[Milliflore]

How pretty it was. The vast scenery of white and blue, as if the ocean and sky collided. My gaze swept across its entirety. Its serenity was like a lullaby, soothing my soul. I don't know where I am, but this was a good break from the turmoil I have back in Greggs.

"We could stay here forever. Above the clouds and away from them."

A hand crept up to my arm, sliding down to my waist. His hold tightened as he pulled me into a tight embrace, caging me into a dangerous distance.

My eyes reached for his face, for I have longed to see him. Yet, he was the first to subdue me in a trance. His nose traced the line of my neck, up and down, in slow motion. I was hypnotized.

I bit my lip and tried to break away, but my fragile body was no match for his strength. His lips moved to my ear, his ragged breathing making my heart pound harder in anticipation.

"You're so beautiful. I want to make you mine."

I hitched my breath. He pressed his lips against the curve of my neck, leaving gentle pecks all over. It was a new feeling, and I loved it. I knew he was dangerous. He got me in the palm of his hands so suddenly.

"MILLI! MILLIFLORE HAMETH!"

I thought I saw thunder striking down to me. My shoulders perked up hearing that soft yet assertive tone. My eyes swept across the area, but I didn't find her.

"I am talking to you through your mind. Come back now. Be quick."

I surveyed my surroundings and found myself on my makeshift bed of leaves, inside my secret hideout in an abandoned nipa hut. I could only spank my forehead.

"It was a dream again. But it felt so real." I sighed.

"Did you have a strange dream again, Milli?"

I jolted in surprise.

"Yes, Grandma. Don't worry; I am well. I will come back now."

The sun was already setting when I walked the path to our humble abode on the rice fields. It was quite a long walk. On my way, I picked up some herbs Grandma could use for her medicine.

When our house came into view, I ran all the way to greet my grandma happily. Yet, an unfamiliar scenery appeared before me.

"Milliflore, help me pack your things."

My face contorted as my ears heard that. And the house, it was a mess. Everything was out of place. And my clothes... My clothes are out of my chest and hanging everywhere!

"G-Grandma, what is this? H-Has something happened?"

As if my presence were nonexistent, her pace in stuffing my bag with my clothes even quickened. I called out to her a few times. She only recognized me after she had zipped it all up and everything was packed.

"You must go, Milli. Away from here. I'm afraid you're no longer safe here."

I blinked a few times. Her statement somehow was hard to conceive.

"What's the reason? Did the... Order find out about us?"

There's only one reason for me to move from one place to another. Everyone knows about it. The Order of the Incandescent, an organization of holy believers and anti-evil, announced their so-called Witch Hunt. 

Ever since, the town has been in a state of turmoil. Even innocents, who were just randomly accused by their enemies of witchcraft even without evidence, were taken by those people. Why would they not? After all, there's a bounty for everyone who catches a witch.

"I'm afraid so, my dear. After all, this grandma of yours has been practicing witchcraft for over the years. Everyone's suspicious of me, and they probably have evidence now." She laughed it off, as if it was something so light.

"I told you, Grandma. We could have just lived off of milking cows and harvesting rice grains." I pouted.

I've been saying this all over again, and so I already know her response. That she and I are witches, and that is our fate that we cannot deny.

To be fair, it's not like I hate being a witch throughout my life. I remember my eyes glittered as soon as I witnessed fire produced from my father's hand. Warmth enveloped me during my mother's snowflake show.

But that was all before. I thought magic was beautiful. I thought wrong. It was destructive. These witch powers are behind my parents' death.

"I don't want to hear complaints from you. This is for the better, especially since you've started dreaming of strange things."

She stuffed the last piece of clothing I have in my bag and threw it to me. She picked up her pen and wrote something on a torn page of her notebook. After writing, she handed it to me. I creased my forehead to an unfamiliar place she had written.

Mix and Kaboom!

Blk 8 Lot 14 Werlock Street

Dressfield City

It sounds shady.

"You should go there tonight. I've already rung its owner. You'll wait there until your aunt arrives tomorrow," she declared.

I stared at her in disbelief.

"Grandma, I don't even know I have an aunt—ARGH!

It happened in a flash. I collapsed to my knees, my body convulsing rapidly. I reached out for my grandma in desperation, but all I could see of her was a fading, blurry black figure. The pain began, a sharp, piercing pain clawing its path up to my spine and ending at my nape. I couldn't stop the stream of tears that fell down my eyes, evidence of how cruel the experience was. It was like my flesh was being eaten alive.

"G-Grandma, I-it's unbearable. Help me..."

With a quick but gentle touch, my grandma reached for the hem of my dress and lifted it up, exposing all of my back. Her faint gasp and uncontrolled breathing didn't escape my ears upon taking a look at it. There was definitely something of importance.

A relentless high-pitched ringing pierced my eardrums, drowning out everything else in the room, including my grandma's voice. She was making out some words I could not recognize. Yet, I know Grandma is not someone to just sit and watch. This pain won't last for very long. With certainty, I can say she is preparing for something wild, another one of her grand rituals to help me overcome this trial.

"Milliflore! Milli! Can you hear me now? Can you see me?"

My chest rose and fell in such a desperate rhythm I could hardly say if I was improving or worsening. My grandma's face slowly came into focus, her worry now more visible to me. She was even panting frantically more than me.

How foolish of my wise grandma. I wished to say I was fine, but my throat seems to have been seized of moisture from all that sudden episode.

Grandma disappeared for a moment, then stormed back with a glass full of water up to its rim. It must have left her mind that I was still weak; she poured the water into my mouth, cascading it like a harsh current of a waterfall. I was definitely parched, but I'm not dying.

"Grandma, be gentle. I'm going to drown." I coughed.

Finally, I saw a glimpse of relief from her. 

Still, I'm not that naive to think everything is fine now. What happened tonight was, without a shadow of a doubt, one of my transforming-into-a-proper-and-powerful-witch episodes. It was a price I had to pay for manifesting a phenomenal power.

Yet, this episode was something almost detrimental. I've read and read a great deal of ancient and massive books about witchcraft, but none of them had told me that gaining powers is life-threatening. Those books only said it was painful. It was probably just me who underestimated its pain.

My eyes found their way to Grandma, examining the expression lingering on her face. She was filled with worry. In my still fragile state, I pushed myself up and greeted her with a smile.

"Grandma, what did you see on my back?" I asked.

Her eyes wandered for a moment. Her hiding something seeping through as she prolonged her time to answer. Then, she let out a defeated breath.

"You have grown a mark up your spine. It is a sign... of your fate as a witch. Do you want to take a look?"

I nodded. Her hands extended, gently supporting me by my shoulder as I regained my balance. Her hands held me all the way to the mirror, never swaying as I turned around to take a look. She helped lift up my dress, and there it was.

A beautiful red vine of roses twisted around the image of my spine, the flowers getting bigger and lovelier as they go up my skin.

"Grandma, what does this mark mean?"

She placed her chin above my shoulder, our eyes both captivated by the mark I have manifested.

"Vines, bones, and roses. Life and death," she breathed.

Life and death. That sounds like something so grand and... deadly serious. I tried to decipher the mystery that is my grandma's face, but I couldn't get a hint from her if it was good or not.

I've heard this from Grandma before. Witches' powers are related to nature and to the great deity, Vuyerre. Not all witches have marks. If one has a mark, then the great Vuyerre must have favored that soul. That witch will surely dominate.

Surely, that must be a good thing for a person pursuing a career in witchcraft, isn't it?

"Does this mean I am a proper witch now? And a favored one?" I scoffed. "I didn't really want to be a witch, but here we are."

How ironic.

Grandma used her hand to gently comb my hair. Her subtle gesture gave me comfort and relaxation, an assurance that I was secure and all is well.

"You have a great and tough journey with you, Milliflore. You must understand and endure. This is the beginning of Milliflore, The Witch."