Sitting on the porch, Ada's eyes wandered over the scenery, the golden sunlight dancing through the ice. The cold air raised goosebumps on her skin as she lost herself in thought. Loneliness and anxiety filled her lungs, her heart, her mind, and her body. Like the scene before her—the sweet warmth of the sun merging with the coldness of the ice—she felt a deep conflict within. Grateful for Astra's intervention that day, she knew darker events could have unfolded, leaving her soul to regret her death and her detachment from her land and family.
Yet, it was Astra who liberated her from that torment. But at what cost? Living in this foreign place, she might never return to her people, who would be engulfed in remorse and sadness, haunted by the knowledge that she would never be with them again.
Ada didn't want to form attachments to this place; she felt she didn't belong. It rejected her in the most gruesome way—erasing her from existence. It wasn't even sending her back but consuming her fully. She hated this world. Why had she come here? What had happened that day? Why was she ambushed? No one, apart from her family, knew of her departure to Draphil.
Ada was spiraling into a maelstrom of darkness and despair, each thought a jagged shard cutting deeper into her mind. Who could want her dead? Was her family safe? Panic surged within her, a relentless tide washing over her as she realized her powerlessness in this strange world. It felt as if an enormous black mamba had coiled around her spirit, squeezing tighter with every desperate breath.
The air was thick, almost suffocating, making it a struggle to breathe. Each breath became a battle against the constricting weight of her fear, the pressure tightening around her chest like a vice. Her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage as if trying to escape the turmoil within. As she plummeted deeper into this shadowy abyss, her vision began to blur, the edges of reality fading into an indistinct haze.
Heat pulsed in her skull, a chaotic storm of emotions swirling uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her cheeks, each drop a testament to her anguish, her silent cries morphing into desperate wails. The weight of her despair clawed at her throat, forcing a heart-wrenching scream that reverberated through the stillness, raw and unfiltered. She convulsed, her body a vessel of torment, every fiber of her being crying out for relief.
Hours slipped away as Ada cried and screamed, her voice echoing through the stillness, a haunting melody of despair. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the landscape, but for Ada, the beauty of the world outside felt like a cruel mockery. Shadows stretched long and deep, engulfing her in a suffocating darkness that mirrored the turmoil within.
As the sky transformed into a canvas of vibrant oranges and purples, the first stars began to twinkle, distant and indifferent to her suffering. The cold breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of night—a sharp contrast to the warmth of the fading sun. It felt like a gentle caress against her tear-streaked face, yet it chilled her to the bone, deepening the isolation that clawed at her heart.
In her mind, the black mamba coiled tighter, a manifestation of her darkest fears and overwhelming hopelessness. It slithered through her thoughts, suffocating any glimmer of hope, squeezing the breath from her lungs. With every passing moment, the weight of her despair grew heavier, pressing down on her chest like an iron shroud.
As night enveloped the world, Ada's screams turned raw, her throat aching and voice hoarse. She pressed her hands against her chest, attempting to calm the relentless pressure that felt as if it would crush her from the inside. Tears continued to flow, each drop falling like a silent star lost in the vast expanse of the night sky.
The beauty of the starry night was stark against her internal chaos, the twinkling lights a reminder of everything she felt was out of reach. The darkness around her seemed to pulse with her anguish, a stark contrast to the serene night that unfolded just beyond her despair.
Finally, as the last light of day slipped away, Ada's vision blurred further, the world fading into shadows. The cold breeze carried the sound of rustling leaves, a gentle reminder of life continuing, even as she felt herself slipping away into the depths of her own darkness. With one final, shuddering breath, she succumbed to the void, the night swallowing her whole.
In the living room, at the windows, Astra was looking at Ada, her heart aching to see the young woman in that state. She understood Ada's emotions—being taken to an unknown place, the feeling of powerlessness in the face of this situation, and the despair of having no possibility to contact her family. From Astra's point of view, the only way to help Ada was to make her a successor; that way, the possibility of transferring her knowledge could be very helpful for Ada to find her way home. But she couldn't force the decision upon her; it should be her choice. After what seemed like an eternity, Astra finally decided to join Ada on the porch. The breeze of the night was glacial, and Ada was shivering. Astra sat next to her, focusing her gaze on the horizon. The landscape was covered by the shadows of the night. Neither of them spoke, as they sat in the whispering silence. Finally, Ada decided to open her mouth, turning her gaze to Astra. She looked at the beautiful woman; after living here for almost a year, she discovered that Astra was the heart and core of this place. Every morning, her hair would turn black, just like the night, in contrast with the whiteness of this place when the sun covered it, reflecting her beauty even more. And every night, her hair would turn white, just like the snow being covered by the sun. She was a living yin-yang with this place; Ada had studied her every move.
"If you continue to look at me like that, I will have a black hole forming on my face," Astra said, turning her face to make eye contact with the young woman.
Ada's face was red from the cold, her eyes puffy from all the crying. Her complexion was not good to see; she had lost a few pounds from all the anxiety over her situation.
"I think we should get inside; the weather will get worse!" said Astra, while getting up.
Ada followed her with her eyes as she saw her enter the house. She turned her head to the landscape in front of her, feeling as though she was being watched, and the cold breeze shivered her body even more. With perplexity, she decided to go inside, with the burning feeling of being watched.
In the creepiness of the night, a shadow was standing, merging with the darkness of the night. That thing was watching the woman sitting on the porch of the house with caution. It was his mission. How could his master send him here to this inner realm, on top of that, this cold one, and guarded by that woman? He watched as the woman looked into the dark and then entered the house, and he himself disappeared into the shadows.
The light inside the house went out.
The dawn air was cold but refreshing; the newborn light of the sun was emerging to dance on the snow and on the frozen lake. In front of the house, the scent of the green grass dancing and merging with the sun was ensorceling, pulling you into a beautiful torment of feelings, protecting you from the coldness of the realm while also being one with it—a magnificent contrast.
Inside, silence ran through every brick and wood. The soft sound of a footstep could be heard from the first floor, dragging on the wood. In a long light blue gown, Astra was coming out of her room, heading toward the stairs. Suddenly, a very ominous cold breeze broke through her back. This didn't feel like a good premonition...