Alethea is a kind-hearted girl carrying the weight of the Magic Dimension on her shoulders. Read as she tries to find her place in a world full of chaos, while she herself is anything but. Adjusting to a life filled with danger when all she wants is...
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Alethea's POV:
Darkness. It surrounded me, pulling me under like an endless void. I was lost in it, floating in this suffocating nothingness. Then, through the haze, I heard voices. They were distant at first, muffled, as if they were trying to break through a barrier too thick to penetrate. But they were familiar, so familiar. Someone was calling my name.
"Alethea..." The voice was gentle but desperate. Who was that?
Then came the cold—a biting, sharp chill that clawed its way up my skin. I could feel the ground beneath me, hard and unyielding. And then something softer, warmer... Strong arms wrapped around me, cradling me close, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt... comfort.
"Thea!" That voice again, clearer now. Familiar. Urgent. "Please wake up! Please! I can't lose you, so please..."
My body was heavy, sluggish, as I tried to respond. My eyes fluttered, my lashes damp with the lingering remnants of tears I hadn't realized I had shed. Slowly, the darkness faded, replaced by the soft glow of dim light filtering through the cold air. I blinked, and the world slowly came into focus.
Amber eyes—bright, worried, and filled with concern—looked back at me, inches from my face. "Thea?" the voice called again, softer this time. Familiar warmth washed over me as I stared back into those eyes, realizing who they belonged to.
"...Stella?" My voice came out in a weak whisper, barely audible.
Her face softened in relief, her grip on me tightening as if she was afraid I would disappear if she let go. "Oh thank the stars, Thea. You're awake," she said, her voice thick with emotion. Her blonde hair shimmered in the dim light, casting a soft glow around her face. I could see the tear stains on her cheeks, the worry etched into every line of her expression.
I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my body, sharp and relentless. I winced, sucking in a breath. Everything hurt. The bruises, the cuts, the exhaustion—it all came crashing down on me at once, and I felt like I was being crushed under the weight of it.
I looked around, feeling a disorienting sense of vertigo as I took in the scene. We were standing on what remained of an ancient stone building, the ruins floating in a void that seemed to stretch out endlessly in every direction. Large, jagged stones drifted through the air like weightless debris, and the red-grey mist that filled the space made it feel as though we were trapped in some strange, twisted dream.
This place—wherever it was—felt wrong. It was as if the very air was thick with malevolent energy, and I couldn't shake the unease that settled deep in my bones. My muscles ached, my bruises a constant reminder of the torture I had endured. But there wasn't time to dwell on the pain. Not now.
