Her eyes froze over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth. She's in there, I know it. But it's like she just took a huge step back from life. Morgan wanted to reach in and tell her it wasn't hopeless, but she was dead. Morgan had seen the blood. But they said they found no body. She wanted to rekindle her heat but her insides were too damp with uncried tears. But she was dead. Dead and gone.

The uncried tears broke out. She could hear them like Krysti was in the other room sobbing but she wasn't. It was a dream, wasn't it?

Krysti cried like her brain was being shredded from the inside. Pain flowed out of her every pore. From her mouth came a cry so raw that made Morgan suddenly wet with tears. She was struggling...struggling to be free from whatever it was. She grabbed onto the chair she was tied on, violently shaking and from her eyes came a thicker flow of tears than both her and Morgan had cried for even their own mother's death.

Morgan broke as Krysti tears flowed. She wanted to help. She wanted to be there. But how? her twin was dead. Morgan kept staring at the mirror. Her twin, her dead sister was crying and clawing as best as she could to free herself. Free herself from death or from something mortal? Morgan did not know which.

She didn't know why but she ran. She ran out the door as her twin's cries grew louder. She figured she couldn't help. Or was it just cowardice? She ran and ran not knowing where the door would lead to or what was outside this room. She had never left the room and didn't understand why she chose to now.

There was no wind; the air was more stagnant than that of the room. But somehow the trees swayed. Large ugly things with no hint of chlorophyll. The ground was boiling lava strangely Morgan couldn't feel the heat or pain. A door was shut and behind her the house, the room had disappeared but Krysti's cries could still be heard.

Along with the trees were flowers. Dying flowers like a garden abandoned years ago. The place looked familiar to Morgan but she couldn't pin it down. She walked slowly taking in every detail. Weirdly she didn't feel scared, or worried. Just empty.

The sky was dark and filled with crows circling like they had found a common prey. Between the trees eyes glowed, red, yellow and green. As she kept walking the trees leaned towards her. That's when she panicked. The crows cawed and dove in. Pecking on her. Some to the eye, some to her arms. They were everywhere.

The trees closed in on her. For a moment it felt like hell on earth. And then she realized, "I was their prey."

The echoes of her scream was enough to send Morgan's back straight; up like a bolt in pitch darkness as cold sweat washed over her face and chest—heart trying to escape through her throat. She touched her eyes and arms. They were bruises, small purple scratches, the largest was the one under her right eye. These proved the dream was real. But how she couldn't remember stepping out of her bed. Let alone walking to an abandoned garden.

Nights lately, hadn’t been at all easy for Morgan; the death of her sister three days back had shaken her, uprooted her sanity—She kept remembering the scenes that had occurred after they found her drenched in her sister's blood on the snow ground, sobbing and begging them to take her instead.

The world had turned into a blur, and so had all the sounds. The taste. The smell. Everything was gone. She paused trying to hold back the strange feelings rumbling inside me but she couldn’t. A lone tear traced down my cheek, then the floodgates opened. Tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down my face. Her chin trembled like a small child. She breathed heavier than she'd ever had before. She was gasping for air that wasn’t there. A part of her was dying inside.

No No. She wanted to scream but she couldn't. Her throat couldn't even voice out her emotions. Krysti, no. Come back, Krysti. Not in a million years, would she have thought she'd lose her sister so early. Especially not now. When they finally won their first match in Ravdorak.

She fell on her knees. Her twin's blood stained the white dress that reeked of puke, sweat adding to its horrific image. But Morgan didn't care. I want her back. Take me. Take me instead. She couldn't help but blame herself. Would Krysti still be here if they had just left earlier? If she had done something? If she hadn't drank so much? All those questions filled her head. She was suffocating from grief and the realization of her sister's death might have been her fault as much as Maia's.

Dawn was breaking when the school caretakers had found her; she didn't want to leave but they insisted—dragged her through the bloody snow. "Look for her. Her body. Please," she cried. Though there was a lot of blood, Krysti's body was not there...or any trace of Maia.

When Morgan was safely secured inside—she kept trying to escape—and clean with warm blankets, they had informed the Council of Magic and Magical things about the occurrence, who in turn sent out a search party for Krysti's body.

Morgan had been sipping her therapeutic hot cocoa when the search team came back and informed there was no body found, and not a trace of the killer either. They'd also inform her she would be called to a hearing, because she was the only witness. The case was a foreign one. In a world of magic, crimes and criminals could be easily traced and with little or no effort put into. But now, there was no evidence of the victim or killer.

A very strange case that the Council would like to elaborate on. The magical world knew how much the Council hated being in the dark or not having full control over events. To them it was a sign of "rebellion" against their power.

Immediately after the search party, visitors—mostly students as most teachers were with the council—flooded the nursing wing; some came with condolences and "Krysti was a good person." But she didn't want to hear any of it. Others came with reassurance that the body would be found and a proper funeral would take place. Morgan wondered how they'd found out about the body. News really travelled fast in Hecate's School of Magic.

After politely accepting the last visitors as best as she could—without having mental breakdowns and hysterically crying—her first Verno visitors came. She couldn't see them but she'd heard them coming. They were chatting in a familiar foreign language—Vernis, the tongue of snakes. Only Verno bothered to learn it as it was their patron goddess' tongue—Venus or Aphrodite, the goddess of love.

Morgan didn't know how to feel about the Verno visiting but she'd figured it was fine as long as they weren't here to mock her, or they weren't Maia. She placed her mug between her laps and stared into the chocolate swirls. Krysti loved hot coco, or anything chocolate related. They would contest who could stuff the most chocolate into their mouth, during Ravdorak season—Winter—and Krysti always won. Sometimes with five more chocolates, sometimes with just one. A tear fell on her cheek and into the cup.

"China?" Morgan resented that nick-name. It would have been cute if it didn't come from this particular person. She tensed and shot her neck up.

"What are YOU doing here?" how could she...how dare she come here when she was the reason. The reason Krysti died. She murdered Krysti and now she comes to pay "condolences." This was the highest insult Morgan had ever received.

She screamed at the top of her lungs, "GET OUT! GET OUT! YOU EVIL THING!" her mug flew at Maia. The hot coco spilled on her before she could dodge.

Teachers and nurses gathered into the room trying to calm Morgan down. "What are you doing, child? Stop that." Ms. Mulberry scolded as they tried to restrain her.

"She killed her. She did. I saw her and...and..." Maia's eyebrow raised in a question like manner. Her arms were crossed.

"I didn't kill your sister." She sounded so believable but Morgan knew not to trust her. She'd seen her. She'd seen the thunder-bolt necklace on that vile creature. No one wore a necklace like that except Maia.

"The creature looked like you and had your necklace." She pulled the necklace from Maia's neck. "See this same one. And Krysti said she saw you lurking around the hallway once."

Maia's eyes widened in surprise. She knew revealing this would get her the reaction she wanted. The reaction she needed. The teachers and caretakers glared at Maia.

Not only had she broken school rules, but this was an evidence. Evidence that the killer could actually be Maia. Maia's and Krysti rivalry was well known among the students and teachers. It was also well known how Verno could take revenge to another level. Or any level to be exact.

The head of the search team—who had been quiet until now—cleared his throat, "Am sorry but we will have to take you for questioning, Ms. Maia." Mr. Alvask looked anything but sorry. His eyes twinkled like a child getting a new present and figuring how it works.

Morgan gave a satisfied smirk. It felt right. Getting Maia questioned and hopefully found guilty. I'm getting justice for you, Krysti.

After the little incident, Morgan was also taken for questioning. She described the events as best as she could, sometimes crying in-between. She could barely remember what Maia transformed into. Mostly because she was puking her guts out from the stench. But, she gave them all she could.

They had promised her they'd get to the bottom of this and if Maia was really the killer, justice would be rightly served. Few hours after the interrogation, the Council called to let the school know a trial for Ms. Maia Callos would be held three days from now. And all the witnesses should be brought to court along with Ms. Maia's items that were found in her room after a search.

Morgan inhaled deeply. Today's the trial. The day she had been waiting for so eagerly. She'd hope they would find her guilty or at least a worthy suspect because that was justice. Justice for Krysti. If Maia escaped this she would have to take matters into her own hands.

She shrugged off her duvet and got up. Her roommates were still sleeping and she didn't have any intention to wake them up. She was even surprised to find them still asleep and her screams didn't wake them up. Sometimes she envied their peaceful sleep. They didn't have to face their dead sister being tortured in an abandoned garden.

Morgan was gathering her things for a bath when her eyes landed on the photo frame on her dresser. A photograph, that was all it took for the tears to burst her dam of restraint. She clutched the solid wooden frame tight in her hand, able to see a ghostly reflection of her face in the thin sheen of glass that covered it.

She looked past her own happy eyes and stared upon their faces that had been caught in a moment of perfection. It was the happiest memories that hurt the worst, they were the ones that cut her deepest.

She focused in on their eyes, they were glistening with the twinkle of laughter that once she loved. Now, they laughed at her. They reminded her of what she had lost. A mother and a sister. She clutched the frame tight, pressing it hard on her. She wanted to relive this moment forever. Her, Krysti, and their mother—Lee Bong-Cha.

The resemblance was striking. They all had the same body structure, petite and slim. The same slant almond eyes. The only difference was the twin's hair was raven while their mother's was brown with brown eyes, not grey like the twins.

She set the photo down. The memories swirling around in her head as she did her morning duties—bathing, brushing, and dressing up. By the time she was done, her roommates were awake and Ms. Mulberry came to take her to the trial, giving her a pitiful look. She hated pity looks.

She understood that they didn't mean it like that. But still. It was awful.

They continued their walk from the dorm to the school's entrance, greeting some professors who were escorting students to their first class of the day. Two days ago, a third year had gone missing. This put the school and Magic Council on the edge. They started implementing safety rules; one of them was being escorted by a teacher or caretaker wherever you went. The third year was later found coming out of Maia’s dorm.

At the school entrance, they were waiting for them. Mr. Quail the potions teacher who was leading the Maia and her five Verno witnesses. She was allowed to bring her own witnesses to court with her. As that was a right to the person being tried. Morgan wrinkled her nose at them as she walked towards the other line. She recognized some of them; Medusa, Ariella Kohen, and their substitute Ravdorak captain, Spencer.

In the other line was Blake, Devon, Jordan, and a few others. The teachers lined them up according to their age. Morgan was the youngest and so the last of the Arnomphs. Another safety rule was travelling by Portals, and not the usual pegasi. Older magicians could transport themselves with a transport spell. But younger ones couldn't, at least, not until they'd taken the test and legally licensed.

Portals were mostly everyday objects that were used to transport magicians, demigods or anyone really, from one spot to another at a prearranged time. Some Portals didn't need to be objects to be opened or transported to another point. They were Spell Portals, only few magicians could do this frequently without using a large amount of magic and energy.

"Everyone's here now. The trial is supposed to start in five minutes," Ms. Mulberry said as she checked her watch. "There aren't any more of us are there?"

“Not that I know of,” said Mr. Quail. “Yes, it’s a minute off...We’d better get ready...” He looked around, his eyes landed on Morgan and softened a bit.

He nodded to the door “You just need to touch the Portal, that’s all, a finger will do—”

They all stood there, in a tight circle.

“Three...” muttered Ms. Mulberry, one eye still on her watch, “two...one...” It happened immediately: Morgan felt she was being sucked into a vacuum of endless space and multiple colours.

Her feet left the ground; she could feel Blake and Devon in front of her, her shoulders banging into theirs; they were speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; her forefinger was stuck to a part of the door as though it was pulling her forward and then—

She staggered into Devon and who fell fell him over; the Portal door shot behind them and disappeared. Morgan looked up. Mr. Quail, Ms. Mulberry, and a few Vernos were still standing, though looking very windswept; everyone else was on the ground.

“Thirty minutes passed ten. The trial has already begun,” said a voice.