CHAPTER VIII
Nexa's point of view:
The next day, just like always, I was preparing to leave for the emerald-green mountains, where I trained young children on how to harness and control their magical powers. That place — high, quiet, tucked away from the noise of the world — was where I found some semblance of peace, even if only briefly.
As I was about to step outside, Jenny stopped me at the doorway, her brows slightly furrowed, her voice a little hesitant.
"Nexa… yesterday I noticed something strange."
I turned to her, curious but guarded. "What did you notice?"
She looked around as if to make sure no one else was listening. "I overheard your father talking to one of his old friends… he said that a special force is being formed to investigate the recent string of murders. And this force… it could include creatures even more powerful than you — humans, vampires, witches, maybe even draculas. Anyone."
For a moment, I stood still. The wind blew softly through the open doorway, but inside me, a storm had started to rise.
I simply replied, calm but unwavering, "Maybe they exist. But none of them are more powerful than me."
Malti, who had been quietly listening from behind, stepped forward. "Nexa, that kind of arrogance doesn't suit you."
I gave her a sharp glance. "This isn't arrogance, Malti. It's confidence. In myself. In what I've become. And in what I can do. Don't distract me with useless gossip — I have better things to do."
Jenny wasn't convinced. She tilted her head, her eyes filled with a strange mix of concern and curiosity. "But Nexa, if all your powers… your instincts… your aura is so much like the devil's, then why are you training children? Why help them when you're walking such a dark path yourself?"
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. My voice dropped a little, cold and laced with irony. "So they can become like me — devils in disguise. Only stronger."
I didn't wait for a response. Without turning back, I walked away, leaving the heavy silence hanging in the air behind me.
Somewhere deep down, I knew their questions weren't baseless. I had felt the shift in myself — my growing hunger for control, my indifference, my pain that slowly twisted into power. And yet, I still trained those children. Maybe I was building an army. Or maybe… just maybe… I was trying to rewrite the story I never had.
Today, I was going to teach the children something very delicate, yet powerful — how to control objects without moving their hands or feet, relying solely on their inner powers and the movement of their eyes. It was a lesson in discipline, not destruction — and for children gifted with magic, one of the most essential things they could ever learn.
I stood before them in the lush meadow atop the mountain. The sun peeked gently through the trees, casting dappled light across their young, eager faces. Their eyes sparkled with curiosity, some with nervousness. I could sense their excitement. But I knew this lesson wasn't just about magic — it was about understanding the self.
"As magicians, as creatures of energy and spirit," I began, "we only need two things to master any object, any force. Do you know what they are?"
Some looked at each other, unsure. Others waited for me to answer.
"Focus — on the object," I said clearly, "and confidence — in yourself."
I let those words linger in the air for a moment.
I then placed a single red apple on the flat stone at the center of the training circle. Its skin gleamed in the sunlight. I looked at the children.
"Now," I instructed, "move it. Don't touch it. Don't blink. Use your vision. Use your energy. Let the apple feel your intention."
The students began to practice. Some squinted in determination. Others trembled with frustration. A few managed to make the apple wobble. I watched them, correcting their posture, adjusting their concentration. This — this was the art of awakening magic. Not spells. Not potions. But control of the mind and soul.
Just then, I sensed a presence behind me. I turned to find my Guru — the one who had raised me, who had once believed that even someone like me could be taught to choose right over rage.
He approached calmly, respectfully, and said, "Nexa, there is a new admission today. A young girl… But her elder sister wishes to speak with you first."
I raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "Speak with me? About what?"
"She wants to be certain," he replied, pausing for a moment, "that you are not teaching… harmful magic."
I laughed softly under my breath, not out of offense but out of the irony of it. Harmful magic? That line had always been so thin for me — almost invisible.
"Ah, so that's what this is about," I said, my tone cool, composed. "Very well, Guruji. I'll come with you."
And with that, I turned, my long coat fluttering slightly in the breeze as I followed behind him. My students watched silently. I didn't offer them reassurance — because I knew they needed to learn to trust themselves, not me.
As I walked toward the unknown elder sister waiting for answers, a part of me was already prepared for judgment. People always feared what they didn't understand — especially when that something looked like me.
After a while, my guru gently placed a hand on my shoulder and gestured toward a small girl standing nearby. "Nexa, meet the new student."
I walked up to her — a sweet-looking child with curious, wide eyes and a faint nervousness on her face. She couldn't have been older than seven or eight.
I knelt slightly and gave her a warm smile. "What's your name, little one?"
She hesitated just for a second, then replied softly, "Raavi."
"Raavi," I repeated, letting the name linger on my tongue. "That's such a lovely name. It suits you."
She gave me a shy smile.
"Alright, Raavi," I said gently, "your class is just around the corner — take the left turn from here and then go straight ahead. You'll see the others waiting. Go on now."
She nodded and said, "Okay," before scampering off with quiet footsteps, her braid swaying behind her.
As I stood back up, brushing the dust off my coat, my guru turned to me again and said, "Now, there's one more person who would like to meet you."
I followed him a few steps forward until we reached a tall woman standing with her back to us, her long black hair falling over her shoulders as she spoke to someone on a call. I couldn't see her face, but the sound of her voice… something about it stirred a feeling inside me — something oddly familiar. A chill ran down my spine, not from fear, but from recognition.
Her voice was calm, measured… and known.
And then, she turned.
Our eyes met.
I froze.
"Riru?" I whispered, as if the name itself had become a ghost in the wind.
Her expression mirrored mine, shock rippling across her face. "Nexa? You're the teacher?"
My heart thudded. After all this time — after everything that had happened — here she was, standing in front of me, looking older but just as fierce, just as sharp as I remembered.
Before I could say anything more, my guru looked between us and smiled, completely unaware of the storm beneath our composed expressions. "So… you two already know each other? That's wonderful. That makes things easier."
Easier?
No. This just made everything infinitely more complicated.
Because Riru… she wasn't just a girl from my yesterday night. She was a crazy girl. A memory. A decision I never got to make. And now — she was standing right here, in my world, sending her little sister into my care.
What were the odds?
Or perhaps… this wasn't chance at all.
To be continue....