What the...
Elara wrinkled her eyebrows as an onset of migraines attacked her brain. Why would she, as an officially rock dead person feel migraines?
Her lips twisted in displeasure as she lifted her hand to massage her head. The soft fingers glided against her forehead feeling completely different from the calluses she previously carried.
Did the gunshot only put her in a coma? Was her brother somehow still alive? He must be, they were orphans after all and no one else would pay for her medical expenses. Perhaps… he managed to recover?
Elara groaned, battling the pain as she forced her eyes open and found herself in a disorienting environment. It seemed like a cave?
Where am I?
The drip of water sounded, its echo clouded Elara's already disconcerted thoughts of her surroundings. She had a feeling she was outside from the sound of crickets, but other than that sense, she could only smell the acrid odor of burning lingering in the air.
"Well, you are resilient, aren't you?" a cold, male voice remarked.
A gloved hand tilted her face to the side, revealing a pair of piercing, red eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes.
The rich wine-like swirls seemed to scrutinize her, capturing her attention with an intensity that momentarily silenced her thoughts.
"You have the most beautiful eyes." Her voice was still soft from her slumber and came out almost dreamy.
The stranger withdrew his hand abruptly.
Her head once again lopped to the side, and another wave of migraines attacked her brain. Damn. Who said that death was eternal peace? Inside she cried miserably. She would definitely make that liar experience it first hand.
With difficulty, she looked up at the person who had previously turned her face. The man seemed to be around her age, maybe slightly younger.
His face still carried small traits of youthfulness, but not a single emotion was expressed on his beautiful visage.
If she were to describe him with a single word, it would be "statue." Yes a beautiful yet emotionless piece of rock.
She was tempted to ask him if he was an angel despite her lack of belief in religion, yet seeing his look of disgust as he watched her, she felt it was better not to speak.
"Elara, you've grown so quiet. Weren't you howling just moments ago about how you were going to have me locked up forever?"
The man laughed eerily. In the middle of the room sat a pot boiling, releasing the smell of burnt herbs.
Underneath it was a fire casting shadows on the walls of the cave and emphasizing the high cheekbones and pale skin of the teenager in front of her.
His almond-shaped eyes tilted up. "I always find it so entertaining when I get that look from you people. Oh my, a commoner attacked me. How dare he?"
He stirred the pot and sat down on a log next to it. The dirt from the log marred his all-white robe, but he didn't seem to mind as he lounged carelessly with his back against the stone wall.
Without glancing at her again, he hummed softly and flipped open a book.
The entire time, Elara quietly observed him. Her mind tried to structure the occurrence, but she was at a loss. From over-thinking too much, she felt a wave of nausea attack her stomach. She didn't know what was happening, but for some reason she felt like she wasn't quite dead.
Did her brother maybe sell her to a psycho for money?
"You, who are you?"
Her voice was now raspy and slow as it came out. The man paused turning the book's pages.
Without looking up, he responded, "Did you lose your memory during our fight? Tragic. You took an awful defeat."
"We fought?"
Finally, his eyes looked up in inquiry. "Did you really lose your memories? Ah, no worries you won't need them anymore soon regardless. How about you just sit there quietly, okay? The brew is nearly done, and once done, so will our little rendezvous."
Irritation grew in her mind at the man's flippant remarks. She went to get to her feet, but couldn't summon the power to stand up.
Christ. She was weak before, but she could at least stand. It felt like her body was made out of rubber, lacking any bones.
"What do you want with me?" She spoke more to herself than the teen as she surveyed the place again. It seemed like she wasn't the only person here, and there were two other people sprawled out on the ground across from her. One had their eyes open and was looking around in a panic, the other wasn't moving.
Their clothes were similar to the man's, draped in white robes, tied in the middle.
Looking closer she could see an emblem on their shoulder of a sun hovering over a mountain range.
Her eyes squinted at the sight, trying to read the words. The format seemed English, but she had never seen words quite like them. Weirdly enough, however, after focusing on the abnormal words, they came into focus,
[Rising Sun].
That name seems familiar... Elara rubbed her head as another wave of headaches attacked her mind.
"What do I need with you? Well just your heart, darlin'." Her eyes made eye contact with the teenager whose eyes lazily looked at her. A small pull tugged at his rosy lips, bringing on the image of cruelty.
Her eyes slid from him to the boy chained up on the ground again. Their eyes met, and with the unfiltered horror in his eyes, she could confirm once in for all, alive or dead, she was royally fu*ked.