𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟐- 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒 - 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭

When I opened my eyes, it felt as though I were being embraced by a gentle, protective warmth, wrapped in a soft cocoon. The darkness around me was not unsettling, but rather comforting, like a sanctuary offering me peace. The steady rhythm of a heartbeat pulsed through the air, echoing through my very being. It was like a lullaby, familiar and constant, a song that had been playing forever. I felt weightless, drifting in a fluid world that cradled me from all sides, offering the kind of safety only a true refuge can provide.

Where am I?

In this space, time seems to lose all meaning. There are no days or nights, no ticking of the clock. Everything blends into a continuous rhythm, a seamless flow that calms my senses. The heartbeat, the soft liquid around me—all of it merges into an unbroken melody, a song with neither beginning nor end.

Moments stretch endlessly, merging with each other until they lose their shape. Time is irrelevant here. There is only the now, a tranquil, eternal moment. There is no past to burden me, no future to fear. Just this peaceful existence.

But again, where am I?

As the thought of leaving this safe haven stirs within me, a wave of emotions crashes over me. I feel a deep connection to this place, this dark cocoon that has shielded and nurtured me. The thought of departing is both thrilling and terrifying.

I feel a sudden sadness at the idea of leaving behind the steady heartbeat, the protective fluid, the sense of security that has been my world for what seems like an eternity. To step beyond its boundaries fills me with both wonder and fear. The unknown waits ahead, its mysteries both enticing and intimidating.

Yet, there’s a flicker of curiosity too. What lies beyond this embrace? What new experiences will await me? What would it feel like to exist outside this safe, dark cocoon? The unknown stirs both excitement and apprehension.

Am I still in the portal? Has time passed, or was it all just a dream?

As I finally emerge from the comforting darkness, the first thing that strikes me is the light. It is bright, almost blinding in its intensity. My eyes, so accustomed to the soothing dimness, squint instinctively against the harsh glow. The light floods my vision, overwhelming me with an array of unfamiliar colors and shapes. Everything around me is new, and yet, there is something captivating about it.

Along with the light comes a chorus of sounds. The heartbeat that once surrounded me is gone, replaced by a constant flow of voices. Some are soft and gentle, others sharp and demanding, but all are foreign to me. The rustle of movement, the murmur of conversation—it all swirls around me, creating a sensory overload that fills my ears.

The air is different too. It feels cooler, more expansive. I can feel it on my skin, brushing against me in a way the liquid never did. It is a stark contrast to the warmth I once knew.

Despite the overwhelming sensations, there’s an undeniable sense of awe. This new world is vast, full of potential. It is strange, yet beautiful, and I am eager to learn all it has to offer.

But then, I hear it.

"Abomination!"

The shout is jarring, filled with raw fear. I turn toward the source, my eyes locking on the man who uttered the word. He’s dressed in an elaborate white robe, the fabric flowing down to his feet, held in place at his waist by a golden belt. His face is pale, and his wide, terrified eyes are locked on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Demon!" he yells again, his voice trembling, eyes frantic.

Demon? What is he talking about? My heart races, confusion clouding my thoughts. My lips part to speak, to demand an explanation, but nothing comes out. I open my mouth, straining to find my voice, but it’s as though it has been stolen from me. Silence. I can feel the panic rising in my chest, but no sound emerges. Why can’t I speak?

The man seems to understand my distress, his gaze deepening in horror. He stumbles backward, losing his footing as his hands flail in desperation.

"Demon! It’s a demon! My Lord, you must decide! You cannot raise a demon child!" His words slice through the air like a blade, each syllable filled with terror.

Demon child? My mind spins, the words not making sense. What child? What demon? I try to focus, to comprehend, but everything is slipping away. What is he saying? Why are they calling me a demon?

Another voice rings out, cutting through the tension like a whip. It’s full of anger, of fury.

"This is my daughter you’re referring to, Priest!" a man’s voice demands, sharp and venomous.

"My Lord, listen to the Priest!" a woman’s voice interjects urgently, her tone laced with fear. "No one must know of the birth of such a creature!"

My confusion deepens, each word pushing me further into a haze of incomprehension. What are they talking about? Why do they call me a demon? What did I do wrong? I want to scream, to shout at them, to demand answers, but my body refuses to obey.

I look toward the woman, whose urgency is palpable in every word.

"My Lord," she continues, her voice rising with a mixture of fear and authority, "for the sake of House Clemente, listen to us. We must hide the child. We cannot let the world know she exists. No one can know."

The man they call "My Lord" is silent for a moment, his face creased with confusion. He looks lost, overwhelmed by the situation.

"What should I do?" he asks, his voice filled with helplessness.

The Priest answers, his voice now cold and commanding. "I will create a barrier to shield her until she comes of age. Only then will we see what fate has in store."

"I’ll name her first," the man says, but the Priest immediately protests, his voice rising in fervor.

"No, My Lord!" the Priest insists, stepping forward. "Never name a demon. If she remains unnamed, her life will not be cursed."

I’m stunned. What do they mean by “never name a demon”? The air thickens with the weight of their words. Why are they acting as though I’m not here? As though I don’t exist in this moment, like I’m some invisible force, not even worth their full attention? Why can’t they see me? Do they know I’m real?

I try to move, to speak, but my body is not mine. It feels alien, so small, so weak. I can’t even lift my hand, let alone stand. My arms and legs feel like they belong to someone else.

Then, I scream—or I think I do. But what I hear is not the clear, strong voice of an adult, but the helpless cry of a newborn. A baby. A tiny, fragile baby.

A baby? What’s happening to me? Why am I in this baby’s body? This isn’t right. This is all wrong. I wasn’t supposed to come out of the portal like this. I should be me. I should be the person I was before. What happened? What did I do wrong? Where did I come from?

The man who had shouted before picks me up with trembling hands, his movements rushed, desperate. His gaze shifts, and I follow it, my eyes locking on a woman lying on the floor, unconscious, her body draped in bloodstained sheets. Her swollen belly still rises and falls with shallow breaths, but something in the sight of her—of her condition—stirs something deep within me.

It hits me like a crashing wave.

I came from her womb. The portal, the strange sensation—I emerged from her body. The journey through the portal led me here, to this woman. I feel a sinking horror as I process the truth: something went terribly wrong. This was never supposed to be the way I came into this world.

I try to focus, to sense any magic, any connection to this strange new world, but there’s nothing. No power. No energy. Nothing. Is it because I’m not supposed to be here? Is it because I don’t belong in this world? My mind reels with this question. Have I lost everything? My powers? My purpose?

And the worst part? I’m trapped in the body of a newborn, helpless, incapable of even moving my limbs with any real control.

How will I ever find Maia now? How will I navigate this world when I can’t even control my own body?