𝕓𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 | 𝔽𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕕.𝕝.𝕙.

Dreams-Chapter two

"Ravlynne, I have a gift for you."

Ravlynne found herself back in her father's study in the house she thought she had left. He was smiling, even though it didn't quite reach his light blue eyes. A younger, six-year-old her was standing in front of his desk. 

"Not again" 

Ravlynne thought tiredly to herself. It was another dream of her past.

"This is Shadow Karaginn, a rare counterclockwise spinning Stamina type bey. I trust you'll treasure it well."

 Theodore Glass reached into his pocket and withdrew a black, sharp-edged bey with silver wings attached to its sides. He placed it into young Ravlynne's palm. She carefully ran her fingers over its sharp blades, awed by the chill of its cool metal body. 

"Wow..."

 Young Ravlynne mouthed. She could feel the power of the bey, silent yet unmistakable, breaking in dark waves in her mind.

"Greetings, young blader. Your name pleases me, Ravlynne. I believe that together, we'll form a powerful team." 

The raven spirit whispered and her silvery-blue eyes glinted. They were the exact same shade and colour of her new owner's. Young Ravlynne's eyes widened in surprise at hearing the strange voice, but she said nothing to her father about it. 

Theodore pushed a launcher across the table to his daughter. 

"This is your launcher. I've hired a trainer for you, someone a connection of mine knows. He'll be here at seven tomorrow. Training starts at seven-twenty. Don't be late."

 With that, he sat back down in his armchair and reached for his briefcase at the foot of the table. Young Ravlynne turned and left, already used to her father's coldness.

Ravlynne looked at Theodore, who was busying himself with a stack of papers. It had been weeks since she had last seen her father, with her flight to Spain, his hectic schedule and double life as manager of American team The Raging Bulls and leader of secret organisation The Snake Pit in Mexico.

She was reminded once again of her resemblance to him, his handsomely-chiselled features, the sharp tilt of his eyes and his proud smirk. Ravlynne had grown up with people cooing over how much she was like her father and she knew that it was true.

It unsettled her. She had seen how brutal he could be, how ruthless he was to his team, how much he valued power and strength, and sometimes she felt the same too, like nothing mattered other than winning, like she would just obliterate anyone who dared to stop her. Ravlynne did not want to eventually turn into a cruel person like her father. 

That was the reason she had specifically chosen BC Sol instead of just joining her father's team. Spain was thousands of kilometres away from America, across the Atlantic Ocean, far away from Theodore and the Snake Pit, far away to let her forget everything and start over again. 

At least, that was what Ravlynne hoped would happen.

The scene shifted, Ravlynne now in a large room with a big arena in the centre. Benches ran down the sides of the room and exercise equipment was scattered around the room. It was a training-and-exercise room and gym all-in-one. 

Ravlynne gritted her teeth. She knew the room well, perhaps even better than her own bedroom, but not because it brought back fond memories. 

She had spent hours training there, shedding gallons of blood, sweat and tears to work herself up to where where she stood today. Her father did not oversee her training; he was much too busy to do that, but he did hire a trainer for Ravlynne. 

That trainer was standing beside the arena, watching another younger version of Ravlynne who was training by it with bey and launcher in hand. 

This time, she was a couple of years older, around ten or eleven. She had grown taller too, and her hair was chopped short. It only brushed her shoulders as she shook it out of her face. Her eyes had a more melancholy look that seemed far too old for her years. 

"Oh no" 

Ravlynne thought to herself as she watched younger her jump, perform a half-spin, hang in the air for a fraction of a second and-

"no no no not that"

-come crashing down, landing heavily on her left foot. There was a sickening snap of a bone. The girl didn't cry out, didn't scream, didn't even make a sound, just curled up into a shaking ball on the ground, her hands gripping her injured ankle. Ravlynne winced, recalling the agonising pain that had shot through her leg. 

The trainer rushed over, helped young Ravlynne to a bench and ran to fetch her father.

He had left the house.

It was the trainer who later brought young Ravlynne to a clinic to get her ankle looked into. The doctor pronounced it as merely fractured and wrapped it up in tight white bandages. Tight, white, blinding bandages. The whole room was blinding with its lights and stark, bone-white tiles. White stars danced across young Ravlynne's vision as the doctor finished tying off the bandages. 

She sat on the chair, gripping Karaginn so much that the sharp blades dug into her skin.

Ravlynne's heart ached for her younger self. She remembered the emptiness, how utterly alone she had felt in that blinding clinic. 

The scene shifted again. Ravlynne was standing in a hallway. Her younger self was in front of her, ear pressed against a closed door at the end of the hallway. 

Young Ravlynne had aged up even more. She was thirteen, almost as old as the current Ravlynne. Her hair had grown back to its original length and was pulled back in a long braid. 

That day, Theodore had abruptly returned in the middle of the day with a few men in business suits and various masks of different colours , dismissed Ravlynne's trainer and shut the girl into her room. She had, however, sneaked out to eavesdrop on his meeting with the men in his study. Young as she was, she could see that there was nothing business-like about them other than their apparel.

"No..no...how many times do I have to tell you, Norman? We're not ready yet. Have them do more research...as of now...we're not strong enough......we need more members......you have someone in mind?...good.........what? Her?......thirteen this year, I think...what about my daughter?...I don't know...she doesn't seem like the type......she's too young too......I'll see what I can do......" 

Young Ravlynne was surprised to hear herself brought up, and she quickly stole away back to her room, afraid that they would discover her.

"What do they want with me, Karaginn? And what did my father mean when he said that he would 'see what I can do'? Who are they?" 

Back in the safety of her own room, young Ravlynne puzzled over what she had overheard with Karaginn.

"......I'm not sure, Ravlynne. It...may have something to do with...the Snake Pit." 

After a long pause, the raven spirit answered the girl. 

"It's...a secret organisation your father leads. They're focused on creating the...perfect bey based on research. I was...one of the many beys they created using parts from ancient beys. I'm afraid I cannot tell you anything else."

Young Ravlynne sat upright. "Why? What-

But it was too late. Karaginn had already fallen completely quiet. The bey would tell her owner nothing more.