The decision to choose between light and dark has resurfaced after 17 years. Which path will one take?
another teenage romance or a journey to find oneself?
> All the writing work is my own<
> None of the pictures used are my own, credits...
I entered my house with Rufus still droning on about the transformations of the last three girls. He had mentioned earlier how he felt the urge to befriend the last girl because she seemed different.
With a tired yawn, Rufus flopped onto my bed, his presence signaling his intent to spend the day at my place. His relaxed posture contrasted with my own weariness as I made my way to the bathroom. The day had been long, and I yearned to shed the weight of exhaustion that clung to my body.
In the bathroom, I reached for the bracelet encircling my wrist, a token given to each of us. With a simple tap, its magic triggered, restoring my attire to its previous state. Despite this ability to change our clothing at will, our physical appearances remained unaltered until the choosing ceremony next year.
Under the soothing spray of the shower, I let the warm water wash away the fatigue of the day, my mind drifting to the events that had transpired. The looming choosing ceremony weighed on my thoughts, a pivotal moment where our paths for the coming year would be solidified. But for now, I savored the tranquility of the moment, knowing that respite was fleeting.
After drying off and dressing, I exchanged a few words with Rufus before stepping out into the cool evening air. The unchanged physical appearance was a constant reminder of the transformations we had embraced, a testament to the journey that lay ahead. With determination coursing through my veins, I set off towards the hills that marked the border between our village and the Werewolf's Kingdom, eager to explore the adventures that awaited beyond.
As I continued to run, my thoughts kept drifting back to Zaria, her image lingering in my mind like a haunting melody. The urge to follow her, to unravel the mystery behind her sudden departure, tugged at the edges of my consciousness once more. With a shake of my head, I pushed aside the persistent thoughts and focused on picking up my pace, determined to outrun the tangled web of emotions that threatened to ensnare me.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally came to a stop at the foot of a magnificent cliff. Its lush green slopes stretched out before me, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I allowed myself to be enveloped by the serene beauty of the landscape, the tranquility washing over me like a soothing balm for my troubled mind.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As I approached the figure perched on the hill's edge, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over me, blurring the lines between reality and memory. Without pausing to consider, I found myself drawn toward the familiar silhouette, my steps guided by an inexplicable pull.
As I drew closer, the features of the person began to coalesce into a recognizable form, and to my bewilderment, it was Cyria. Or was it? Her presence seemed simultaneously familiar and foreign, her white eyes holding a glimmer of recognition yet shrouded in uncertainty.
We locked eyes in a silent standoff, the air thick with unspoken questions and unexplained connections. Time seemed to stretch and warp around us, trapping us in a surreal limbo where the boundaries between past and present blurred beyond recognition. Without words, we communicated in a language of shared confusion and inexplicable resonance, each lost in the labyrinth of our own thoughts.
