In case you didn't read the extra note...here it is!
Extra note: This was one of the first fanfics I ever wrote a long time ago, but I gave up on it. I was rereading it, and I think I might keep working on it. However, I do need some advice, as I feel like I wrote myself into a wall back then and i am not sure where to scrap it from. That's why I'm posting it early just comment on what you think went wrong, and I will rewrite it into a better version, if not i will just go on with my other fanfic
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Elizabeth Hale rarely left her house.
The academy was the only exception, and even there she moved through its halls like a ghost, trying her best to stay silent and unnoticed. Social awkwardness clung to her like a second skin, not that she minded. She actively avoided people. She preferred the quiet corners of her home, the training grounds beneath it, and the familiar comfort of her bed. Outside, the world was too loud, too distasteful, and far too dangerous. People died every day. Death had become ordinary, the direct consequence of the plague that had reshaped humanity, the Nightmare Spell.
The academy she attended existed for one purpose, to prepare teenagers for the Nightmare Spell. That strange force had descended on the world years before she was born, a disaster that settled into human life and was eventually treated like any other natural calamity. But it also pushed humanity to evolve. People with extraordinary strength and abilities began to appear, individuals who transcended the limits of normal humans. They became the awakened, the only ones capable of facing the nightmare creatures born from the depths of the Spell.
Awakened saved lives, so they were admired. Every piece of media revolved around them. And because admiration brought fame, and fame brought money, they became icons of the new age. Almost everyone aspired to become one.
Her older brother had been one of the awakened.
Without him, her family would have remained trapped in the cracks of poverty, buried somewhere in the slums. Instead, his awakening lifted them into comfort. Elizabeth was born into that newfound luxury, unaware of the harsh struggle that existed before her. Her parents treated her brother as if he were their golden ticket. Over time they forgot he was a person at all. To them he became a source of income, a machine that brought prestige and money to their family name. They forgot the monsters he faced every day, they forgot he stood inches away from death each time he fought.
But he never complained. He carried the burden alone. Elizabeth had been too young to see the weight he bore, and she took it for granted too.
Eventually he ascended to the rank of Master. Their lives improved even further. When he told their parents he had been selected to participate in a third Nightmare with a group of awakened, they celebrated. They were already thinking about how they would spend his earnings and what opportunities he would bring them, not the danger he would face. It never crossed their minds that their son could die.
Elizabeth remembered the last day she spoke to him clearly.
She had just finished a training session with him and was doing her final set of exercises when he told her the news. The wooden sword slipped from her hand and hit the ground.
"Why do you have to go? Aren't you already powerful? Why do you want to become a saint?" she asked.
Her brother paused, genuinely surprised by the question, and laughed. She remembered his laugh, warm and tinged with something her worry free mind had not understood at the time. Sadness.
"Are you worried about me?"
She nodded. Even back then she knew the dangers he faced every day. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair.
"Aw, how sweet, but don't be. I will be just A ok. After all, I have to become strong so I can protect you, our family, I mean."
She huffed. "I can protect myself. Just you wait. When I awaken I will be more awesome than you ever have been."
A melancholic smile touched his lips. "Honestly, I would rather you remain ordinary."
She scowled. "You always say that, but I bet it is just so you can hog all the attention like you do with Mom and Dad."
He blinked, then smiled again, the kind of bright smile that seemed to illuminate the surroundings, radiant in a way only awakened could be. She knew all awakened, especially Masters, had that otherworldly beauty. She had seen his colleagues. But none were as striking as her brother, not to her. Whenever he smiled she could never stay angry. It was annoying, but she could not bring herself to hate him. At worst she sulked until he teased her and laughed, and then her irritation melted away.
"When I come back, I will show you the awesome memories I get from the big bad monsters and tell you stories about my adventure, okay?"
She remembered nodding, pretending she was not excited.
"Stop talking like that already, I am no longer a kid. I just turned ten, remember?"
He grinned and tried to tickle her, earning a half laugh as she pushed him away.
"You are still a kid in my eyes."
Despite her attitude, she loved him more than anyone. He had always given her far more attention than their parents. He was the person she was closest to in the world.
She had been worried, but she believed he would return. To her, he always seemed unshakeable, unbreakable.
Months passed. She trained every day, feeling giddy imagining how shocked he would be when he saw her improvement. Months turned into a year. The quiet panic she kept buried began to spread like frost. Her parents started showing signs of worry too. Another year passed. Even then she refused to accept what her heart already knew.
The truth arrived on the day she came home from her first afternoon at the academy.
Strangers stood at her front door. They wore finely tailored clothes and she could tell at a glance that they were awakened, their unnatural beauty only making the grief on their faces stand out more sharply. Her mother was sobbing and her father looked hollowed out. When they all turned to her, the heavy silence that followed told her everything.
Elizabeth understood before anyone spoke.
The awakened who had gone into the Nightmare with her brother stepped forward. They tried to comfort her and told her how he had sacrificed himself to save them, how he had died a hero. She did not care about the title. She did not care about the story. She wanted to hear it from him, not from strangers, but that was impossible now.
Whatever small hope she held shattered. Her world collapsed.
After that day she stopped going out. She stayed in the training grounds, refusing to make friends or meet anyone. Her parents became consumed with clinging to the influence her brother had left behind. They fought desperately to maintain the life he had earned for them. They managed to secure government positions and became even busier. The small bit of attention they once gave her disappeared.
They became strangers she merely lived with.
Elizabeth felt numb. The following years blurred into a single loop. Train, eat, sleep, repeat. She no longer knew why she trained. She had started because she wanted to surpass her brother. Now that he was gone there was no reason. But training soothed her mind, it kept her calm, so she continued.
Years later she stood quietly in the dim training hall, her wooden practice blade in hand. Her movements were clean and precise, almost unnaturally refined from repetition. Her breath remained steady. Her jet black hair was tied back in a ponytail that swayed behind her. Her fierce green eyes narrowed as she shifted, imagining an attack coming from her left. She stepped aside effortlessly before stopping in place.
Her lean, toned body glistened faintly with sweat, the lines of muscle drawn tight beneath her training clothes. She exhaled in frustration and let her arms fall to her sides.
"I still can't defeat you, it seems."
In her mind she had been sparring with her brother. She had learned about an old sport called boxing and a technique they used called shadowboxing, where one fought an imaginary opponent. She adapted it to fight him. Over the years her imagination became so vivid she often struggled to separate imagination from reality.
She was almost certain it was a sign of a mental illness, but she did not care.
"Aw, don't feel bad. You have gotten better yourself. I am pretty sure you are stronger than most normal people. Since I won again, don't forget to water the plants at my grave," the illusion of her brother said as he jokingly poked her cheeks.
Her brows knit together. Maybe she had gotten too good at this, his annoying habits had carried over perfectly.
Her brother had shared almost every feature she had but more masculin, he had a sharp jawline, the same green eyes, the same lean-athletic build although slighly on the bulkier side. The only real difference had been his hair. Where hers was tied neatly, his had always been a mess of unruly black strands that refused to stay flat no matter what, sticking out in every direction like he had just rolled out of bed.
"No, it is not that I do not want to, but a Nightmare Gate appeared there a few days ago and the place is a mess. Not sure your grave is still standing."
Her imaginary brother chuckled.
"Just make a makeshift one in the garden."
She rolled her eyes and lifted her sword again. "I do not want to. Ready up, that was just a warm up."
Before she could continue, a knock sounded. She turned toward the entrance.
Leaning against the wall was a girl with long, wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes. Her leather jacket did little to hide her figure or her alabaster skin, and the air around her seemed to grow lighter just because she was there. She looked like a princess from the fairy tales Elizabeth used to read.
"Still talking to yourself, I see. You know you should check in with a professional, right?"
Elizabeth smiled faintly. "Oh please, I am perfectly fine. A little imagination never hurt anyone, Saint Tessie."
Saint Tessie returned a playful smile. "Oh darling, you have no idea. And I told you not to call me Saint, didn't I? Just Tessie is fine."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Sure, Saint Tessie, I will remember that. Also, I thought I locked the door. How did you get in?"
Tessie smirked. "Brave of you to assume a measly lock could stop a saint."
Elizabeth sighed. "Common courtesy still exists, you know. Also, instead of standing there, why do you not help me train a bit? That would at least be helpful."
Tessie chuckled, amused by her antics. She picked up a wooden sword and walked toward her.
Most people would have called Elizabeth's tone toward a saint disrespectful, but Tessie was her only friend. She had been one of her brother's colleagues, someone who had visited her after surviving the third Nightmare. She made time out of her busy schedule to check on Elizabeth over the years until their bond formed naturally. Elizabeth later learned that Tessie had been fond of her brother, deeply so. Apparently they had been lovebirds during that Nightmare and had planned to marry once they conquered it. That future never came.
At first Elizabeth had been hurt. She thought Tessie visited only out of guilt. Tessie admitted that had been true at the beginning, but now she saw Elizabeth as a little sister. They managed to work through the grief and became closer.
Elizabeth was grateful. Without Tessie she was certain her state of mind would have fallen into a darker place.
She steadied her breath and entered her battle mindset. She circled Tessie, who stood in a relaxed stance full of openings. Elizabeth winced at the memory of their first spar, when she had attacked one of those supposed openings and paid the price. Those openings were traps.
Not finding a real opening, she sighed and chose one of the false ones. At least she knew it was a trap. She dashed forward and swung her wooden sword downward. Tessie smiled, sidestepped the slash, and struck at the opening in Elizabeth's side. Elizabeth expected it. She could set traps too, after all, two could play at that game.
Elizabeth halted her swing midway and turned to block with unnatural speed. Their wooden blades clacked. She used her free hand to throw a surprise punch, but Tessie evaded with ease. A wooden knife suddenly appeared in Elizabeth's hand and she slashed toward Tessie's face. Tessie dodged as if she had predicted it long before it happened.
Her assault failed, so Elizabeth jumped back.
Tessie grinned. "Still practicing those hand tricks? I have to say, they are pretty useful in a fight. I thought you were wasting your time learning them, but I guess not."
Elizabeth ignored the comment and rushed in again. After several exchanges she collapsed onto the floor, exhausted.
Tessie watched her with a soft smile. "Not bad. For a mundane person you are close to their upper limit, and your sword style is coming along well. I still think you should focus on the spear, but overall your progress is astonishing. Really, I mean it. You could have easily beaten me back when I was still mundane."
Elizabeth stared at her while catching her breath and managed to say a quiet, "Thank you."
"Well, all in all, you are almost seventeen and still no sign of the Nightmare Spell. Depending on how you look at it, you can consider yourself lucky or unlucky."
Elizabeth remained silent as she listened.
It could be considered lucky not to face the first Nightmare. She knew many who prayed they would never be infected. But she did not consider it lucky. Nightmare Gates were appearing too frequently, entire regions had collapsed, and remaining mundane forever was almost a curse. A gate could appear in your front yard and there would be nothing you could do.
The risk of death for the mundane was high. She did not want to remain ordinary. She knew awakening after seventeen or eighteen was rare. She had worried about it constantly, at least until last night.
"Tessie, about that… I think I am affected by the Nightmare Spell. Last night I felt that if I fell asleep I would definitely be dragged into my first Nightmare."
Tessie's smile froze. Her eyes widened slowly.
"YOU ARE WHAT?"