Chapter 9I blinked, disoriented, as I found myself in a dark, unfamiliar room. It was a stark contrast to the place I had been before, and as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I realized that I was looking at a younger version of myself. I stared down at my small arms and body, marveling at the transformation.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and a blinding light flooded the room. A tall, slim figure stood in the doorway, its long tail swishing behind it. A wave of fear washed over me as recognition dawned on my face. It was Professor, the lizard-man who had trained me all those years ago.
"Lion, it's your turn today! Come out, child," Professor said, his voice echoing in the small space as he moved away from the door.
I stood up, my movements sluggish with lingering sleepiness. "Where are we going, Professor?" I asked, my voice high-pitched and childlike.
Professor's reptilian features twisted into what might have been a smile. "What do you mean? Training, of course, child. Maybe today will be your lucky day, and you will unlock your magic skills?"
I followed Professor out of the room, my small feet padding against the cold floor. The hallway stretched out before us, its walls lined with strange, glowing symbols that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.
As we walked, fragments of memories began to surface in my mind. I remembered the grueling training sessions, the hours spent practicing combat techniques and trying to summon the magic that lay dormant within me. I recalled the frustration and disappointment that had filled me each time I failed to produce even the smallest spark of power.
But there was something else, too - a sense of unease that crept up my spine as we made our way through the twisting corridors. It was as if the very air around us was charged with a malevolent force, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.
Professor led me into a large, circular room, its walls lined with ancient tomes and strange, glowing artefact's. In the center of the room stood a raised platform, its surface etched with intricate runes that seemed to shimmer and dance in the dim light.
"Step onto the platform, March," Professor instructed, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Today, we will push your limits and see if we can awaken your true potential."
I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the platform. Something about it felt wrong, as if it were a gateway to a world I wasn't meant to enter. But Professor's expectant gaze bore into me, and I knew that I had no choice but to obey.
I stepped onto the platform, my heart racing as I felt a surge of energy coursing through my body. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before, a raw, untamed power that threatened to consume me entirely.
"Now, try to control it and let it out as your form of magic," Professor instructed, his voice calm and steady. "Close your eyes, child. Your imagination and knowledge are what controls your magic."
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to focus on the energy that pulsed within me. I thought of my friends, how they had already mastered their own forms of magic - fire, wind, earth, water, and even higher-level elements like ice and lightning. A sense of frustration and anger welled up inside me, and I felt a sudden, sharp crack.
Without opening my eyes, I pursued the feeling, pouring all of my strength and imagination into it. More cracks echoed through the room, and I heard Professor scream. I thought it was a cry of excitement, a sign that I was finally unlocking my true potential, and I pushed myself even harder.
But then, a wave of dizziness washed over me, and I heard a deafening crack. My eyes flew open as I fell to my right, my body crumpling onto the platform. To my horror, I saw that the surface beneath me had been destroyed, reduced to a pile of rubble and debris.
I looked up at Professor, my eyes wide with shock and fear. He stared back at me, his expression a mixture of amusement, terror, and excitement.
"I didn't want to," I stammered, my voice trembling as I gazed at the destruction I had caused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
Professor's expression quickly shifted, his eyes narrowing as he approached me. He helped me to my feet, his grip firm but gentle. "Don't worry about that. Can you move?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
I nodded, testing my limbs as I stood. Professor placed his hand on the platform, and to my amazement, it began to regenerate, the rubble and debris melting away as the surface reformed itself. He murmured something about having to charge it again and recreate cycles, his words barely audible over the hum of magic in the air.
"It's enough for you today, child," Professor said, turning back to me with a weary smile. "Let's continue next time, shall we?"
He turned his back, and at that precise moment, a series of knocking sounds echoed through the room. I spun around, my heart racing as I tried to locate the source of the noise.
Suddenly, my eyes flew open, and I found myself back in my room at the safehouse. I bolted upright, my head swiveling as I took in my surroundings. I was back, the dream still fresh in my mind.
"So it was just a dream," I murmured, sinking back down onto the bed. My heart was still pounding, and I could feel the lingering sensation of the magic that had coursed through my veins. It had felt so real, so vivid, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just a simple dream.
The knocking repeated, and I quickly went to the door. September was standing there, his youthful face etched with concern. "Hey, you okay? You seem pale," he said, his eyes searching mine.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Yes, just a strange dream," I replied, my voice still shaky from the vivid memory that had invaded my sleep.
September nodded, a hint of understanding in his expression. "Not the first time, you always have the most bizarre dreams." He paused for a moment before adding, "Aren't you hungry though? Last time you ate was like one day ago."
Now that September mentioned it, I realized just how famished I was. The events of the past few days had left little time for proper meals, and my stomach growled in response to the thought of food. I nodded, grateful for the distraction from the unsettling dream.
"Then I'll wait for you at the kitchen," September said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He turned to the right and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I closed the door and quickly dressed, eager to join September and satisfy my growing hunger. But as I stepped out of my room, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. I had no idea where the kitchen was.
I stood there for a moment, my mind racing as I tried to recall any details about the layout of the safehouse. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to conjure up a single memory of the place. It was as if my mind had been wiped clean, leaving only fragments of my past and the unsettling dream that had haunted my sleep.
I turned to my left, surprised by the unfamiliar voice that had addressed me. An old man stood there, his posture impeccable and his crystal-clear blue eyes seeming to pierce through my very soul. Despite his age, he appeared fit and strong, with a stance that exuded confidence and skill.
"Mister March, good to see you again in this house," he said, his voice calm and measured.
I stared at him, trying to place his face in my fragmented memories, but coming up empty. The man seemed to sense my confusion, and he offered me a gentle smile.
"Assassin told me about your condition, and I will try to help you as much as I can," he continued. "Let me reintroduce myself. I am Alfred, the butler of this place. I was a warrior before, but I prefer this kind of life now."
He bowed slightly, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the class and elegance he displayed. It was a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that had surrounded me in recent days, and I found myself instantly drawn to his calming presence.
"Now, are you going to have your breakfast? I will show you where the kitchen is," Alfred offered, his eyes twinkling with kindness.
"Yes, please," I replied, a smile spreading across my face. It was a relief to have someone like Alfred around, someone who seemed to understand my situation and was willing to help me navigate this unfamiliar place.
As we walked through the halls of the house, I couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of it all. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and paintings, and the floors were made of polished marble that gleamed in the soft light. It was a far cry from the dark, dank prison cell I had woken up in just a few days ago, and I felt a sense of gratitude wash over me for the chance to be here, even if I didn't fully understand why.
Alfred led me into a spacious kitchen, where the scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling bacon filled the air. My stomach growled in response, and I realized just how long it had been since I had eaten a proper meal.
As I entered the bustling kitchen, I was taken aback by the sheer number of people gathered there. It was a far cry from the quiet, intimate setting I had expected, and I found myself feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden influx of activity.
January caught my eye from across the room, waving me over with a friendly smile. I said a quick goodbye to Alfred and made my way towards my friends, weaving through the crowded space.
"I didn't expect so many people," I admitted as I took a seat near January and the others.
January grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Did you really think that we are the only ones who live in this mansion?"
I scratched my head, feeling a bit sheepish. "Well... I didn't really think about it, to be fair."
It was true - I had been so caught up in my own struggles and the whirlwind of events that had brought me here, that I hadn't stopped to consider the other inhabitants of this grand house.
As I looked around the table, I couldn't help but notice how different everyone seemed today. January, in particular, was practically glowing with energy and good humor. It was a far cry from the tense, guarded demeanor he had displayed during our escape from the prison, and I couldn't help but wonder what had brought about this change.
September and August were engaged in their usual antics, joking and play-fighting with each other as they ate. December, ever the quiet one, had his nose buried in a book, only pausing occasionally to take a bite of his bacon and bread. And then there was April, who seemed to have taken on the role of unofficial pet-sitter, feeding a massive dog that looked more like a small horse than a household pet.
It was a strange, eclectic group, but as I sat there among them, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. These were my friends, my allies, and even though I still had so many questions about my past and my purpose, I knew that I could count on them to stand by my side.
For now, at least, I could allow myself to enjoy this moment of peace and camaraderie. The future was uncertain, and I had no doubt that there would be plenty of challenges ahead, but for now, I was content to simply bask in the warmth and comfort of this makeshift family.