HE HOLDS A SWORD in his hand, the tip grazing her chin. There's a silence that entails them, the boy and the younger girl looking at each other.
Then they break into fits of laughter and he jabs the plastic sword on the ground, laughing even more when it bends and falls from his grip. She looks like his sister, from the way she laughs and the way she hits him.
Zeila closely watches them from behind the curtains, holding her breath so as not to startle the two.
Where am I?
The curtain flutters around her and she reaches to grab it. The white she pulls encompasses her and leaves her in a new surrounding.
This time she finds herself standing in the midst of a hall that ran further than her eyes could see. Adorned with golden frills, the walls and ceiling were coated in a lustrous shade of silver.
What is this place?
Zeila walks — unaware that she may be lost — and drinks in the exquisite architecture. Her steps halt, ears perking up alarmingly when she hears something, someone in particular. Before her mind can process her thoughts, her curious self finds the source of the sound, making her stand in front of a door.
A single peep is all it takes for fear to corrupt her mind.
Her heart plummets against her chest, roaring at the whirlwind of terror that cascades upon her. She hears a scream so piercingly loud, her bones rattle at the sound of it; cries of help coil around her, forcing her into paralysis.
She wants to run, she wants to cry, she wants to tear away the feeling of distress crawling on her skin, but she just stands there, petrified. His laugh strikes her like lightning and the last thing she sees before everything fades is his wicked smile and the fiery gaze he has fixated on her.
It's time to meet, little one.
C H A P T E R 0 2
The world remains a kaleidoscope of colors.
Zeila jerks, panting for air. Amidst the blurred vicinity, she is able to grasp a sense of reality. She feels her chest heaving heavily, almost ready to leap out. There's a faint ringing in her accompanied by goosebumps that rise with the haunting memories of a dream she fails to understand.
Everything feels disoriented, someone seems to be getting closer to her. Zeila recognizes the warmth draped across her shoulder: Hyejin. She can see her trying to tell her something, but the words fail to reach her ears against the shrill ringing.
It takes some time for Zeila to stand up with Hyejins aid and when she exhales her first relieved breath, she sees the pale look Hyejin has.
"Zeila!" Hyejin cries out, tugging Zeila by her shoulder. "Are you alright?" There is panic evident in her voice and a glint of confusion she hides behind her perturbed expression.
Zeila nods her head. Despite the reassurance that she was safe, her mind doesn't stop but crawl back to the malevolent scene she had witnessed; her words lay tangled in the web woven by the haunting memory, unable to blur out that it wasn't real. That it was a nightmare and nothing more.
"Here, drink," Hyejin rushes a bottle to Zeila, helping her sit down on the table (they had previously taken from the van).
She gulps the water without visible hesitation and hands it over to Hyejin.
YOU ARE READING
The Last Guardian || KTH
Fanfiction"It's the broken heart that weilds the mightiest sword." A kingdom torn to shreds; a royal court thrown into turmoil; a horrendous fate and a fallen queen. The guardian has been slained and the last warrior to weild the sword has gone missing. There...
