Chapter 1 - Get An Earful

Prologue

My form floats in the air, light as a feather. Discomfort nags at my senses.

Just moments ago, I crouched amongst the wreckage of my crumbling home.

There had been endless screams ricocheting through my skull, and in a futile attempt to dull the noise, I pressed one hand to my ear, but all it did was smear blood everywhere.

With my other hand, I cradled my child, his tiny puckered lips the source of the clamor. The hand that rocked him moved on its own as if by instinct.

I cannot recall if I was rocking him, shivering from the cold, or foolishly moving to prove that I still had fight in me, that I would live...

Just before, I had dared to look back. My lover’s insides lay sprawled on the ground, red on white, blindingly stark. I may have vomited there, maybe on myself.

The acidic stench of sulfur and vomit was unbearably nauseating, making my eyes water and my senses dull. Tears rushed up again, burning as they spilled over my skin.

Moments before, the shards had pierced my chest. But I couldn’t lie still. His tiny limbs were now soaked with my blood, his suffocating screams piercing my soul.

I close my eyes as exhaustion consumes me. His voice gradually drifts away, and then it turns eerily quiet. A soft nudge at my shoulder signals that I should move forward.

I resist, delaying the inevitable for as long as I can. I don’t know how long I remain there, motionless.

When I finally open my eyes, my surroundings have changed, and my hands are bare. No longer in my wrecked home, I drift in an unfamiliar terrain.

My form floats in the air, light as a feather. A discomfort nags at my senses. Endless trees surround me, shrouded in fog. A single, blinding ray of light pierces the darkness.

The apparitions around me urge me toward the river Lythe. Their voices slither through the night, merging into one: “Leave the mortal realm behind,” they whisper. “Drink from the river.”

“No.” The sound that escapes my throat feels foreign, detached. The pain is too raw, carving at my insides. “Not yet, please,” I beg. I pray. Perhaps, for once in my short, miserable life, someone, or something, will heed my call.

To my utter surprise, they do.

Squinting against the blaring light, my surroundings shift once more.

-

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, can you all just shut up?” Saying that Ran De Ophelia woke up on the wrong side of the bed would be incorrect; he never slept.

It is said that Hyacinth City never sleeps, and perhaps to no one does this statement ring true, as much as it does for Ran. Young Miss Asma, the Ophelia manor maid sneaks out of the estate every night at midnight like clockwork. She does not venture far, however, for just behind the gate her young lover seeks her out with flowers and promises of a future that does not involve serving snobs.

Further beyond the gates, the farmers tending the Ophelia gardens, get a head start on their work, plowing the fields, or gathering by the trees with jugs of wine and snide remarks about their masters. Their laughter carried on the wind under a bright full moon.

They eventually tire and return to their cottages, a time during which Ran is allowed respite for an hour at most. Respite before the city beyond the walls awakes. Merchants setting up their stalls in the bazaar, travelers docking by the shore, Auntie Halima and her ever-shrill screech beckoning Nahro out of bed, "Set up the wagon, boy," she yells. "Light up the fire, bring forth the dough, spread the thyme," order, upon order, as Nahro drags his feet and responds with a yawn.

  The farmers' children get an early start too, each with a different set of responsibilities. Little Jiujiu runs around the street with the latest gazettes, "Get Hyacinth Spills for 2 copper coins," he shouts wagging his arm as he flaunts the heavy papers, "News of Prince Anu of Scorpia's betrothment, Reesan soldiers captured at the border, Investigating missing Hyacinth boys," his voice carries through the streets, "Get your news for 2 coins only!"

Soundwaves from somewhere up close, rouse Ran from his city stupor, a boy scratching at something making a noise that gets the hairs on Ran's hands standing. "Butterflies, make them go away," he screams sobbing. Ran tosses and turns, bringing his hands to his ears, and finally getting up. Sigh, he's not ready to start the first day of the semester.

Cursed with the gift of spectacular hearing, Ran never truly slept unless through a medically induced knockout. Which is almost every day, however, for the last month Nana had decided that he should learn how to tune and filter the sounds, cutting off his supply. Since then, the sound frequencies have jumbled together like static turning his brain into a foggy mush soup.

He wondered how anyone expected him to show signs of intelligence when he had to deal with constant overstimulation of his sensory receptors. It was already lucky he hadn’t severely damaged his head from banging it into the wall to make the noises stop.

  A thought he’d dwell on if he weren’t already late for the academy. He jumped up, detangling his bed head, then picked out the black school uniform, and sprinted to the transportation portal.

He made it just in time to see the rest of the kids already lined up in rows and columns in the courtyard, while the chief principal, Mostafa AzVard, headed the assembled students with his best authoritarian expression.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ran sagged his shoulders. The consequences of tardiness, he could deal with. At least on school premises, the magic arrays heavily muffled his abilities, which were honestly his only concern.

“Late as usual, take your place with the rest of the slackers,” Principal Az scolded, turning around to continue the morning announcements.

“Good morning to you too, sir,” Ran huffed.

“Silence, Ophelia,” AzVard snarled, but before he could turn around to discipline the students who had started to chat amongst themselves, Ran countered, “I do admit, I miss you too, sir." The professor raised his finger threateningly, about to give Ran an earful.

Squinting his eyes to block his face from the sun, Ran was ready to cut his losses short and appease the principal when he noticed a rippling from the portal. He chuckled lightly to himself; with AzVard’s temper, whoever is arriving now is gonna get the worst of it.

Surprisingly, the unlucky face that shimmered through the portal was that of his twin sister.

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