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I tried to pry myself up to stand, but my legs were wobbly. They felt heavy and numb, and I couldn’t bear any weight on them. A burning pain seared through the right side of my leg as I pressed my knees together.
I braved a look and wished I hadn’t. Angry, red blisters had formed over my entire right calf where my skin used to be. A particular section was singed down to the muscle with thick, white blisters scattered over the ruined flesh. The site was repulsive. Bile rose in my throat and poured onto the ground in front of me.
I had to get off this frozen beach. My parents told me enough about the cold to realize I wouldn’t last long. My numb fingers seemed to shout at me in agreement. The process had already begun.
My teeth chattered so rapidly that they produced a constant rattling sound, overpowering the crash of the waves behind me. I scanned the rest of the beach. I was alone as far as I could tell. Slowly, I began to crawl away from the ocean, away from my pile of vomit.
It was a painful process and felt as though it would take an eternity to get across the massive beach. I didn’t know where I was crawling to, or what I was crawling from, but I told myself it didn’t matter as long as I kept moving, kept breathing.Just one more push. Don’t lie down yet, I kept repeating to myself.
I could have been crawling through the snow-laden, black sand for seconds, minutes or hours. Time seemed to still, and I lost focus of my surroundings. I could only concentrate on the next inch of land that lay in front of me. One awkward, painful crawl at a time, inch by inch, as I slowly made my way across the unfamiliar beach.
I didn’t see someone approach me until it was too late. I recognized the same pair of black-tip boots as my stomach twisted in knots. I glanced up at the male who wore them. Two lavender eyes burned down at me from above. He no longer wore a mask. A faint, demeaning laugh escaped his mouth as he towered over me with his arms across his chest. Laughing at me, laughing at my poor attempt to escape. His laugh was the last thing I heard ringing in my ears before everything went black again.
The raysfrom the sun streamed through my dorm window as I peeled myself out of bed. Careful not to wake my sleeping roommate, I quietly slipped out of my sticky nightgown and tugged my training outfit over my sweat-slicked legs. I didn’t bother bathing, I was only going to get more sweaty.
Once I accepted that I could do nothing about being in Tennebris, that this was my new reality, I started training. Every morning I woke before classes and ran to the training grounds to practice. It helped me shake off the lingering terror that occurred every night.
I had long since mastered masking the after effects of my nightmare. I forced slow breaths out to control my heavy panting as I got ready, but it wasn’t always like that. Every night was the same. The same nightmare from the day I was kidnapped, the same night sweats, the same jolted wake up call that brought me back to consciousness in a panic right as the male on the cold beach reached me. But at least the screaming had stopped.
The nightmare never changed, and somehow, it slipped into my dreams every night as an ugly reminder that I didn’t belong here. It was the only memory I had from the night I was taken from my home in Lux and brought into the Dark Kingdom of Tennebris.
Elevenyears had passed, and I still couldn’t remember anything about my life from Lux. I couldn’t remember my family, what they looked like, if they loved me, if I had any siblings. I knew that I had a family, but every time I searched my mind for any trace of my parents, I was left with nothing. My only childhood memory was a horrible fragmented one of being ripped away from my home, my island, and the place I belonged. My only memory was that night.
I had long stopped wondering if my parents were alive, if anyone from my island even knew I was missing, or if they believed I had died in that fire. I used to hate myself for dwelling on it. It would send my mind to dark places, making me wonder why I was brought here in the first place, and if those males were coming back for me.
Now, I welcomed it each night, along with the scarred, burned flesh on my right calf and the Luxian markings on my back. They were the only remnants of my previous life. Those three things—my nightmare, my scar, and my markings—were my only reminders that I once belonged to Lux, that I was not crazy, and that I didn’t make up what had happened to me.
When I first realized I was left in Tennebris, I tried to explain myself. After blacking out on the frozen beach, I awoke in a confined room and was only allowed to see one person—mycounselor—until I was deemed ready to rejoin the society. I pleaded with my counselor to take me back to Lux, that I didn’t belong here. I told her my story in the hopes that she would listen, but she never believed me. All she said was that I was a confused, scared, little girl suffering from a traumatic experience. It didn’t help my case that I developed a fear of fire ever since. It took me years to be able to go near an open fireplace or hold a small candle flicker. I chose to sit in complete darkness rather than brave a flame.
It made winters my living nightmare. I soon found out that Tennebris didn’t have a normalnight meansdarkness and day means sunlight.They had six months of constant light, where the sun never set and six months where everything was cast in darkness and shadows. Every building that didn’t have electricity required fire to light the space. It was another reminder to me of how different things were between the two Kingdoms. Another reason I so desperately pleaded with my counselor and wanted to go home.
She would tell me what I spoke of was impossible as she shoved a folder in my face concerning my parents fromTennebris. It stated that we lived in one of Tennebris’ six villages called LakeWood, and that my parents both died in a horrible fire, making me an orphan. A tragic accident. But I knew better.
I had my scar, I had my Luxian markings, and I had my nightmare.
I often wondered if the pictures in the folder were my real parents, or if they were just random photographs of people who somewhat resembled me. They shared the same brown hair, lean frame, and high cheekbones, but my eyes were different from anyone of Tennebris—sapphire.
An unnatural shade of blue, so bright and deep there was no hope of blending in amongst the varying shades of black, brown, hazel, and green eyes of Tennebris. Unique eye coloring was a Luxian trait, and unlike my back, my eyes were something I couldn’t hide. Blue eyes weren’t completely unheard of in Tennebris, but rare amongst the sea of earth tones.
My counselor claimed I was making stuff up for attention. That was the story she fed me. She brushed it off by saying I was only a child who made up lies to cope with my past. Fighting back only landed me with the label of being traumatized and countless more hours of being detained.
I didn’t care. My first couple of months here, I pleaded with her. I begged for a new counselor, for someone who might believe me, but it was only ever her. I was kept locked in her office for months while I wascoping.
It wasn’t until my counselor threatened me with treason that I learned to keep my mouth shut. She said it was forbidden to live on the wrong soil. Tennebrisians and Luxians didn’t mix. Unless you had a work visa, which I clearly didn’t due to my age, I would either be killed immediately or sent to prison. She also informed me that I would beg for death if I was given the latter judgment.
I had to endure years of her “therapy.” So much that I actually started believing some of the things she told me. It became difficult to separate reality from the fabrications I was spun. I wasn’t able to attend Tennebris’ schools or speak with any other Advenian until I was compliant. The time in isolation landed me with the reputation of being the freak orphan girl. Growing up in LakeWood, the furthest down of the six villages, made it difficult to make any friends. So I kept to myself and I trained.
The crisp air hit my face as I walked outside. I inhaled sharply and exhaled a sense of relief. I’d now gotten used to the cold, rough weather of Tennebris, not that I liked it. We were taught in school that when Luxian users created the shield around the Kingdom of Tennebris, they kept out most of the bitter weather. It never felt like that to me. Every day, I yearned for the warm breeze and blinding sun of Lux. But I would never again see the tropical island that I used to live on. I was stuck pretending to be a Tennebrisian and forced to stay on this frozen patch of land.
Mornings were my favorite part of the day. Peaceful, free, calm. It was the only time I could be myself. It was the only time I felt relaxed. I didn’t have to worry about who was watching me. I didn’t have to be careful to cover the black markings on my back, even though I always kept them hidden out of habit. This early in the morning, the entire school was still sleeping, leaving me utterly alone.
I was greeted by intermittent gusts of wind, breaking through the shield, as I headed toward the school’s gym and training grounds. I embraced my runs every morning. The feeling of my legs moving one after the other, the air filling my lungs, making me believe I could escape the world behind me if I could only outrun it. It cleared my mind. I didn’t think about anything as I sprinted toward the NorthEnd of the school’s campus that housed the athletic arena. I didn’t think about how I was from Lux, that if I was now discovered, I would be killed. I didn’t think at all. I just ran.
LakeWood’s campus was one of the few schools that was named after the town it resided in. It was divided into five different sections. The center of campus, known as the Hub, was where the students’ social life lived. It was home to the dormitories, the library, the Great Hall, auditorium, cafeteria, and a few small tea and book shops. The EastEnd of the campus held the teachers’ quarters. The SouthEnd, the classrooms, and the WestEnd consisted of a pathway to one of the residential areas of the village that typically housed the upper class of the town.
Past WestEnd, was the town of LakeWood, situated a few miles from the campus. The pathway there had an Advenian-made gardenwith picnic tables scattered every so often. On a warmer day during summer, I usually found an empty table to sit and read. Only a few flower patches and bushes were spread out along the path at WestEnd, but I still found myself gravitating toward it.
I never understood why the town or the school I attended was named LakeWood. There were no bodies of water and no woods. In school, we learned that when Tennebris first made roots in this glacier climate, the Luxian ground users changed the layout within the shield. They added unnatural forests and vegetation throughout the six villages. Apparently, just not in LakeWood. Besides the small path of WestEnd, all this dreadful town had were vast, rocky, snow-capped mountains.
