Chapter 2: Chapter 2

IRIS

The fog hadn’t taken them, just me. Why?

Who were these people, and why had they come to our home? Why did I dream of him, the man with dark eyes and a hoarse voice?

I was sitting on the cold floor of the warehouse, still holding the letter in my hand.

“Pull yourself together, Iris. No one gave their life for you to cry now,” I whispered to myself.

Wiping my tears, I opened the letter. I didn’t think I could even read it, because of the rain.

But to my surprise, the letter was complete.

It was no ordinary piece of paper. As my fingers touched the letter, I felt a tingling sensation—not like static electricity, but like a thousand tiny invisible beings whispering under my skin.

The material felt alive, as if it was breathing, made of something other than wood and ink.

I flinched back, but the strange feeling remained, a gentle pulsing in my fingertips that crept slowly up my arm.

What sort of magic was this? Nothing I was familiar with.

Nothing I’d read about in books.

It was old. It was very strange… And it had touched me now.

“~Dear Iris,~

~trust me and read the following words loud and clear.~

~What was lost, the shadows keep,~

~Till spoken words wake it from sleep.~

~Voice the chant, let no fear stay.~

~Then wish… and steal your power away.~”

~Like a sudden tide, a memory returned—her lullaby, the one she’d sung nightly since my earliest years. The words rose unbidden to my lips…~

~“The walls I built will hold, will last,~

~Till shadows pass and storms are past.~

~But when you crave the strength you lack,~

~Just breathe the words… and take it back.~

~No more to hide…my power unchained.~

~Then feel the dark rise where I reigned.”~

The air pulsated with a wild, unfamiliar energy… thick crimson mist spiraling around me, faster and faster, until the world blurred into a vortex of scarlet sparks.

My skin tingled with raw power, as if some long-lost part of me was surging back, filling the hollow spaces I’d never noticed before.

The fog whirled so violently I could see nothing else… just streaks of blood-red glitter, like embers torn from a forbidden fire.

Then, like a dam breaking, some memories hit. Not in fragments, not in whispers… but in a flood.

Unknown faces. Names that seared my tongue with their sudden return.

The weight of old griefs, sharp as shattered glass.

The taste of spells I’d once wielded, their incantations humming in my bones again.

Magic… real, untamed magic coursing through me like a second heartbeat. It wasn’t recalled. It was an awakening.

For the first time in years, maybe forever… I felt alive.

The fog hit me like a tidal wave, a crushing, scarlet force from every direction.

And it rushed into me, flooding my lungs, my veins, seeping into the marrow of my bones.

It wasn’t just inside me; it was rewriting me.

My skin drank it in like a parched thing, merging with it as if this crimson mist had always been a part of me… lost, and now reclaimed.

Power roared through me, wild and unfiltered.

I was weightless, untethered, floating in the eye of a storm only I could feel.

Every nerve burned with it, every heartbeat thundered with a strength I’d never known.

This wasn’t just energy, it was alive, pulsing in time with my breath, like a second soul waking up.

Then—release.

A shockwave tore out of me in a deafening burst.

Windows exploded into glittering shards.

Pieces of furniture, boxes, the very air itself—everything was hurled back in a violent arc, as if the world had been slapped away by an invisible hand.

I was pressed up against the wall.

The power that spread inside me was so strong that I fell to my knees.

My lungs filled with air. A panting gasp escaped me before I fell to the floor…

The last thing I saw before I passed out on the ground was bright light and mist… They found me.

***

Everything was hazy as I came to.

My head throbbed, heavy like wet sand.

Muffled voices and footsteps slowly seeped into my consciousness.

“And what should we do now? How can we help her when she has this shield around her?” I heard a man’s voice speaking to someone.

His words sounded soft, but tinged with a quiet concern.

Someone hovered near me—I blinked hard, my eyelids fluttering open. They opened hesitantly, and immediately the light pricked like a needle.

The surroundings were just a colored veil, and I fought to penetrate it with my gaze.

Slowly, far too slowly, the world began to take on sharper contours.

Just enough to look around me.

A young man, maybe a few years older than me, was talking to someone. His blue eyes looked worried, and as he ran his fingers through his hair, he exhaled, dropping to his knees next to me.

“Get Avery… she’s awake!” he exclaimed.

The realization that I wasn’t imagining things made my eyes widen.

I panicked and straightened up into a sitting position.

In fear of those strangers, I moved backward. Their voices sounded like buzzing insects… too close, too loud.

Every breath they took was one too many. Were they here to kill me, like my grandparents?

My heart hammered against my ribs. I hadn’t gotten far enough.

Grandma’s last gift was this escape, and now I was sitting here as if I had voluntarily sat down in their lap.

Like a lamb leading itself to the slaughter.

I heard a girl panicking behind me. “Girl… watch where you’re going. You can’t just crawl around and push us with that shield. What’s wrong with you?”

I stopped my movements to look at the situation.

If they wanted to kill me, I would be dead by now. Wouldn’t I?

The blue-eyed boy spoke in a calm voice. “Put your shield down, please, and let us help you.”

He seemed to be really worried; his eyebrows were drawn together, while his eyes radiated incredible compassion.

The girl who was standing behind me spoke urgently. “You should hurry, we don’t have much time left, we will soon have company, and even your shield won’t help you there. Please allow us to help you.”

I turned around, looking at her in confusion.

She was tall, with raven-black hair that fell over her shoulders, every single strand like a masterpiece.

Her face was delicate, like a doll with high cheekbones. Her nose was fine and straight from her forehead, only to refine at the tip into a tiny, charming snub nose that gave her appearance a playful touch.

But it was her eyes that captivated me: a deep purple like a starless night, but with a hidden sparkle, as if they held the whole universe within them.

Her black leather suit hugged every curve of her body like a second skin, emphasizing her narrow waist and the graceful length of her legs—not intrusively, but with a natural elegance that radiated pure sensuality.

“Maybe she doesn’t understand… or hear us,” I heard another female voice say.

A beautiful girl with fiery red hair was standing in front of me and looked at me with pity.

They were unlike anyone I’d ever known—their faces foreign, edges carved from some unknown beauty. Gorgeous… almost out of this world.

I was confused, watching them argue with each other as they each tried to overpower the other’s voice.

“Girl, you have to remove your shield and come with us, we are running out of time. When you used your powers, enormous energy was released and your location is not only known to us,” the black-haired girl said to me.

I was confused by everything that was happening around me. Who were these people?

And then I noticed the red glow around me and remembered what had happened before I passed out.

Like liquid ruby light, it pulsed in impenetrable layers around my body, sometimes as deep as congealed blood, sometimes as bright as the glowing tip of a forge.

The light in it was not static but moved in eternal swirls, as if an invisible wind were sweeping through the color itself. Each wave threw off sparkling reflections that danced on my skin like tiny lava sparks.

Sometimes the tones would condense into an impenetrable purple, only to melt into translucent garnet seconds later.

It was as if I was wearing an orb of ghostly flame—a second skin of pulsing power that breathed when I breathed.

“You idiots! Can’t you see that you are scaring her with your behavior!” a deep male voice shouted.

At the sound of the voice, I turned to see a man stride into the warehouse.

He closed the distance between us, then dropped to one knee in front of me.

I had never seen a man like him in my life. He was tall and muscular, with dark hair and deep blue eyes that sparkled like two dark oceans.

His hair was slightly tousled, with single strands falling over his forehead.

His face was perfect, as if it had come straight out of the most beautiful painting—every detail masterfully drawn, every line harmonious.

The sharply cut cheekbones looked as if they had been created for the marble of ancient statues, while his high forehead gave him a noble, almost imposing touch.

His mouth, narrow and yet full, formed into a smile that balanced somewhere between seduction and challenge.

Every line, every tiny wrinkle, when he frowned, seemed deliberately drawn. Even the shadow that loomed beneath his chin looked like a deliberate detail.

It was more than masculine beauty. He was a force.

His body, as if carved by the gods themselves, was a living statue of elegance and powerful grace.

The world around me fell silent for a moment. My eyes were glued to him as if time had slowed down.

His every movement was choreographed—smooth, powerful, and irresistible. He filled the room without trying… without even moving.

My gaze locked onto him, helpless, as if the rest of the world had blurred into insignificance.

Every breath I took felt like stealing air meant for him.

I didn’t just see him; I felt him, like a pulse in my own veins.

It wasn’t an obsession. It was an inevitability.

My eyes traced the lines of him—the deft movements of his hands, the broad sweep of his shoulders… until they finally climbed to his face.

And there it was: cruel perfection carved in marble.

His lips parted, shaping words I should have understood.

But all I heard was the hollow scream of my own pulse, a deafening roar between us.

His pupils dilated, his eyes fixed on my lips. He tilted his head to one side, watching me.

The question clawed at my throat. Who was he? Why were they here?

But the silence swallowed it whole, leaving only the terrible certainty: they hadn’t come for answers.

They’d come for me.