Two years had passed since I arrived in this new world, and while I had adapted to the rhythm of life on the plantation, one thing still set me apart: my hair. Its distinctive black hue felt like a beacon that drew attention, making me feel conspicuously different from everyone else.
One fateful night, a sudden urge for a new adventure gripped me. I had been thinking about venturing into the central town, but the reality of my hair left me feeling hesitant. That's when an idea struck me—Lysander had magic! Perhaps he could work a little magic on my hair.
Excited by the prospect, I leapt out of bed and hastily knocked on Lysander's door. "Lys! Lys! Are you still awake?" I called, each knock growing more frantic.
The door flung open to reveal a grumpy Lysander, tousled hair and half-closed eyes betraying his irritation. "I'm completely awake now because of you banging on my door. Happy?" he grumbled, clearly less than thrilled about being disturbed in the middle of the night.
I couldn't help but smile sweetly at him, despite his annoyance. "Can you do me a favor?" I asked, my enthusiasm bubbling beneath the surface.
He sighed, leaning against the doorframe and rubbing his eyes. "What is it, Nerina? It's the middle of the night."
"I want to go to the central town, but my hair... It makes me stand out. Can you use your magic to fix it? Maybe change its color?" I explained, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
His irritation seemed to fade as he considered my request. "You want me to change your hair color with magic?" he repeated thoughtfully.
"Yes! I've always wanted to go to town!" I nodded eagerly.
Lys sighed again, but this time there was a hint of resignation. "Alright, fine. But let's do this in the morning. If you want to go to town, remember there's a festival in two days."
"Promise me you'll change my hair color?" I urged, excitement bubbling up again.
"Fine, yes, I promise," he said, managing a small smile. "Now, can we both go back to sleep?"
"Thank you, Lys!" I chirped, practically bouncing back to my room. "Goodnight!"
"Goodnight, Nerina," he called after me, shaking his head with a bemused smile before closing his door.
The next morning, before the rooster had a chance to crow, I was up and practically bursting with excitement.
I rushed to Lys' door, knocking furiously, eager to get started. "Lys! Lys! Are you awake already?" I called, my voice filled with energy.
Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a groggy and slightly annoyed Lys. "Nerina, it's barely morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"I know, but you promised!" I replied, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Can we do it now? Can you change my hair color?"
He sighed, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Alright, come in," he said, stepping aside to let me in.
I nearly skipped into his room, plopping down eagerly in a nearby chair.
Lys closed the door behind me and approached, still groggy. "Okay, let's see," he said, studying my hair. "What color were you thinking of?"
"I've always wanted pink hair. Can you do that?" I suggested, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
Lys closed his eyes, focusing his magic on altering the color of my hair.
But something felt off. Instead of the usual warm glow of his magic, there was a peculiar resistance, as if the energy itself was being pushed back.
He furrowed his brow, attempting again with greater concentration, yet the result remained the same.
My hair stubbornly stayed black.
Opening his eyes, he stepped back, perplexed. "It's not working," he muttered more to himself than to me.
I looked up, confused. "What do you mean? Can't you try again?"
Lys shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "I've never had this happen before. It's like your body is rejecting my magic."
My eyes widened in disbelief. "Rejecting your magic? But why?"
He hesitated, clearly puzzled. "I'm not sure. Magic is usually straightforward, especially for something simple like changing hair color. But for some reason, your hair just… won't change."
An unsettling feeling crept over me. "So, I can't change my hair color?"
Lys gave me a sympathetic look.
"It seems so. Magic typically works on everyone, but your hair is behaving differently. Perhaps it's because your hair is naturally this color, and it's not meant to be changed."
With a feeling of heavy disappointment settling in my chest, I slumped slightly in the chair. "I guess I'll just have to stick with black hair, then."
Lys attempted to cheer me up with a gentle smile. "Don't worry about it. We can think of something else," he said supportively.
I forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "Thanks for trying. I'll go prepare breakfast now."
As I left his room and headed to the kitchen, a wave of disappointment washed over me. For the first time since arriving in this strange world, I felt genuinely downcast.
My black hair, far from a trivial matter, now became a reminder of how different I truly was.
Throughout the day, my usual joy in routine chores faded away. I moved through preparation, tending to various tasks, but the lightness of spirit was absent.
Lys, noticing my subdued demeanor, offered me space but also concern in his glances. His kindness did little to lift my spirits.
When Glenn stopped by during his patrol, his familiar banter failed to spark my usual joy. I managed to smile and chat with him, but it felt forced and hollow.
By evening, I was emotionally drained. I replayed the morning's events in my mind, wrestling with my disappointment. My black hair—while once a part of me—had now turned into a heavy reminder of my difference, of my unassimilated identity.
Lysander's earlier promise echoed in my mind, a flickering hope. I wanted to fit in like the people in this place. But for now, I felt stuck, longing for a change that just wouldn't come.