It was hard to tell whether I was dreaming or not. But it must have been a dream, because I was looking at myself as if I were another person. When I looked at my body which had been stripped down to a simple night gown, it was riddled in deep purple and black marks all over my body. It was disgusting. There were fresh cuts and gashes that peeked out from under the edges of the night gown as my body was made to lay on its stomach so people could inspect it. Had I fallen in my dream? Had my body been attacked?

The bruising was so severe, it was hard to find even a normal piece of skin on it at all.

This was a nightmare.

There was a maid in tears by the bed—I dimly recognised Lettie. She was looking at my body as if it were no more than a corpse. "Who could have done this?"

"Who do you think?" Came another voice, but I couldn't see who. "The wench that tried to kill me. Clearly she chose the next best thing."

Lettie looked as if she were about to let out a sob, but she glanced at—me?—and held it in. "How did we not notice? I was sure my magic would have detected–"

A sneer. "She was always good at disguises. How else do you think she became the insect's mother?"

The hatred in the voice was like venom.

Was the voice talking about me?

It continued, and I tried in vain to move in my dream, but was stuck in place. There was another person beside my body on the bed. A female with scales all over her body and hair that floated as if she were submerged underwater.

"Fix her." It was a command.

The female placed a hand on my back and it began to produce a warm light before fading again. She shook her head, her beautiful hair glistening with the movement. "I cannot. These have been here a long time. The magic cast on her to hide the bruises from sight, also hid the bruises from her body itself. The user performed strange magic. She will have to recover on her own. Any magic used to heal her will only make it worse."

"If you can't fix her." The owner of the mystery voice dropped a few degrees and I saw Lettie pale as it spoke again. "Your life might as well be for forfeit."

The female didn't even flinch. Instead, she calmly rose and spoke with authority. "If you command me to use magic on her, she will certainly die. My powers do not work against chaotic energy." Her reptilian eyes flicked to someone behind me. "You would know."

It became quiet.

The voice was void of emotion. "Well, if she dies, incinerate the corpse. I don't want this disgusting smell lingering."

Lettie paled and as I was about to hear the voice speak again, it became muffled and drowned out as my consciousness faded. The dream slipped away.

***

Pain. Raw. Aching. Pain.

That was all I could feel as I was enveloped in darkness. The ache was everywhere. In my bones, in my eyes, in my head.

How long had it been? I didn't know.

Every time I tried to open my eyes, it was as if I had hundreds of kilos resting on them, keeping them sealed. Every time I tried to sense where I was through my fingers or body—I got no response.

The only way I knew I wasn't dead was because I could hear voices that would sometimes be around me. They would either speak to me, or with one another.

"How long will it take?"

"I don't know."

Was this some extreme form of sleep paralysis? My mind was racing. How long would I be stuck like this?

There was no escape. I couldn't force my consciousness to fade out either. My body had become a prison for my mind.

I need to get out.

This continual loop went on for some time until it became quiet and I heard someone enter the room.

Lettie?

They were quiet, but I could feel them. My anxiety rose.

Then I felt it. I felt something touch my forehead. Before I could even begin to feel elated, it was suddenly as if my consciousness became excessively tired. It was almost as if someone had flipped a switch in my mind.

There was no stopping it. I didn't even have time to think about who was in the bedroom before I faded back into the darkness.

That was when I really began to dream. Images flashed in my mind, of a woman with beautiful blond hair and green eyes. Her face would stay like that for a few seconds, before it would then morphe into some grotesque grin of utter madness. She stood over me laughing and behind her was the figure of someone else hidden amongst the shadows.

It lasted like this until I felt something shift within me. As if something had been lifted off my chest. After that, I felt my consciousness begin to return.

When I finally aroused my sleep, I could feel it.

I was able to move.

At first, my eyelids struggled with the movement, but I was eventually able to open them enough to notice a young girl placing some dressings on my arms.

She had pure white hair and porcelain skin. Her white eyes glowed as she whispered some words under her breath as she touched the cloth she had just placed on my right arm. After a few moments, the cloth began to cool down until there was a slight, soothing chill.

She had to be around the same age as Edythe, surely. Unless they had dwarves in this world?

The girl methodically placed each individual cloth on my arms, enchanting them to cool down as she went.

I stared at her as she worked without realising my presence. How could someone so young already know magic?

Was I already that far behind?

There was something different about her as well—much like everyone else at this mansion. Her white eyelashes hung over her silver eyes which looked focused as she worked.

At one point, she raised another cloth from the bucket of water beside my bed, and as she enchanted some more of her words, the cloth froze solid right before my eyes. It looked as if it had been pulled out of a freezer where someone had left it in there and forgotten about it. There were crusts of frozen ice that flaked off the cloth and slowly floated onto the covers of my bed.

The girl frowned as if in concentration, her gorgeous eyes completely focused as she spoke again. As she continued to speak, the ice slowly began to disappear—as if being coerced to leave and find residence some place else. After a few more moments, there was no longer any traces of ice left and she placed it onto an empty space on my arm.

It was cool against my skin. I could feel the ache in my arms ease slightly.

By the time she made her way up to my face and made contact with my eyes, she froze. Slowly, her eyes widened as if she was disbelieving.

I was about to open my mouth to say it was okay, but I didn't have the energy.

Instead, she stumbled backwards as if she had seen a ghost before disappearing out the door.

After that—all pandemonium ensued.

It was safe to say that I had been asleep for just over a week. Nearly two.

Two weeks.

Apparently they been told that my body would only wake up when it was ready, but they were not given a time period. It was strange to go from such utter peace to now be in a position where I almost had to learn to walk again.

After nearly two weeks of not using my legs as a child, the muscles had wasted slightly—bringing me back to my infuriatingly slow pace. I would have to exercise each day to try and restore what had been lost.

All that effort. Gone.

What I also now had to cope with was the intense pain every day. I had pretty much become a walking pile of bruises. All my arms, my legs, my neck and my face were covered in deep purple bruises. The additional scars on my back and fresh wounds everywhere else did nothing for my mood either. It was painful enough trying to sleep each day, let alone trying to get up each morning.

Lettie also brought me outside each day, obviously hoping that some sun would help my recovery process. Anytime I passed by maids and servants alike, they would always give me that same look.

Pity.

It angered me—not because I was ashamed, but because I knew that this would have been a lot worse mentally if Edythe had to have gone through this. She was only a child. How was she meant to know that they weren't upset at her, but her circumstances?

But I knew better.

And I didn't care.

They could think what they want. I didn't know the history behind these marks either. Only Edythe knew.

Only Edythe had suffered.

It sent shivers down my spine every time I saw myself in a mirror, imagining what would have had to have been inflicted on this body to induce such physical trauma.

Torture.

There was no other explanation.

But it had never mentioned this in the novel about Edythe. It had mentioned her mother, but only in brief moments, about her absolute beauty and grace and how Edythe had failed to inherit any of that.

It never mentioned the scars. It never mentioned the bruises, the cuts, the dark purples marks which crept all that way up to her neck, peeking out of every dress she wore. It never mentioned how no amount of layers could cover the extent of damage done to her body. All because of her beautiful, graceful, sadistic mother.

How disgusting.

Clearly madness ran down both lines.

Edythe had no hope.

Then I remembered the figure I saw in my dreams, and the absolute revulsion that made me want to puke every time I tried to conjure up that image in my memories.

When I had first had my emetic event—Lettie looked as if I had been about to die. She had been giving me breakfast in bed, spooning the food into my mouth (much to my embarrassment) because I had been too weak to lift my arms on the first few days out of bed. She was determined that I get my strength back.

Until I had one spoonfuls too many and all her effort landed on the floor and my dress. That event had also not been due to that fact that I was extremely full. I had also been trying to remember the images which plagued my dreams at night. I had stopped doing this after that figure entered my mind, bringing with it an extreme desire to vomit and pass out.

Clearly this body remembered things that my mind did not.

Since that incident, Lettie had been hesitant about giving me full meals. It had been decided with the chef to reintroduce food to me in small portions, slowly getting bigger the more my body adapted to amounts after going days without. Apparently they had fed me mana while I slept to help sustain me.

How convenient.

Throughout this whole dilemma, I already knew not to have expectations. It was childish of me to presume that everyone cared. Clearly with my body like this, everyone did NOT care about Edythe.

It was when I was outside with Lettie, relaxing in the sun and being supported by pillows, that Lettie realised she had forgotten something. After doing a quick search, she was about to take me back inside with her when I pleaded that she leave me out here. It was so nice outside.

Inside was stifling. Especially when you couldn't move.

Although she looked reluctant, I resulted to begging. "Pleeeaaassseee. I like it out here. I'll be careful. I won't move."

Well, I can't move.

After a few seconds, she smiled. "Okay miss. I'll be right back."

When she disappeared, I closed my eyes. Isolation was so hard to come by now. I had almost taken it for granted back on earth. It truly was a luxury.

With my eyes closed, I began to feel myself drift off with the afternoon breeze. This weather truly did feel healing.

I froze as the voice shattered my silence.

Surely not.

I opened my eyes to find Kael standing over me, his red eyes looking at me as if he were assessing some tool. Yet judging from the crease in his brow—he hadn't figured out the usefulness of the tool yet.

I was stunned. Holy shi*t. What a burn. To a three year old no less.

He had rendered me speechless. What did I say to that?

I bit back the urge to retort with emotion. "I don't want to hurt again."

It was a simple, yet truthful response.

After my dangerous reply at our last meeting and Kael reaching out to me, it had resulted in a whole world of pain. I never wanted to experience that again. I was even right to say it felt more painful then my death on earth. I had only been partially conscious in my death.

I had been fully conscious when Kael sent my body writhing in pain.

Kael's frowned deepened, as if he didn't know how to process what I had just said. Had he been expecting a smart response? Surely not, I was only three. Just what kind of expectations did he have of me?

Had my sudden seriousness caught him off guard?

His calculating gaze made me think that was not the case. He was just playing with me like how a kid would use a magnifying glass to burn an ant.

I was getting whiplash from the sudden change in direction of his questions. Was he being serious? Did the pillows keeping my body upright not give him any hints?

Feeling scorned, I attempted to lean forward to try and stand, but not before my muscles spasm and I lost my balance. Without any warning, I suddenly tipped forward in a beautiful display of clumsiness.

But I was stopped only centimetres before I touched the ground. After a moment of shock, I felt two hands grab me around my waist and raise me into the air.

Still, he raised me up until we were eye to eye. My legs dangled in the air below me and all that kept me from plummeting to my death was his decision to keep hold of me.

With hands outstretched, we stared at each other. Both unsure what to do. I couldn't even guess what was going through his mind. His stone-like face remained impassive. His eyes bore holes into my soul.

My body was rigid, like a cornered mouse.

What was he planning to do?