I don’t know how I did it, but somehow, the “dream” ended. It was as if I consciously chose that now was the time to wake up. Like a flip of a switch, the colorful array that was the Cerebellium began to fade. My mind drifted into unconsciousness, and suddenly, grogginess hit me.

  My body was stiff, my feet were cold, and I could feel that my bnkets were only covering half of me. I think my left foot was resting on a pillow; how the hell it got down there, I had no clue. What the hell was my right hand gripping? I squeezed something plush, something, oh, right. It was Bun. My cute, little jabber plush. How the heck did he get up there?

  I could feel the sun's warmth on my face, my vision shifting from darkness to a deep, dark red as light from my window beamed down onto me. My face scrunched, and I grumbled incoherently as I clumsily fumbled for my bnkets. Grasping a wad of fabric, I yanked the covers up and over my face; however, my already exposed feet became only more open to the faint chill that permeated my room.

  I whined softly and pulled my legs up, curling in on myself as I tried to wriggle beneath as many of my messy bnkets as I could. Yet, it was fruitless. My struggle had stirred my groggy mind to the point that the little goblins in my head were beginning to clock in for their daily shift, and the concept of sleep was ever-fading away from my grasp.

  “I hate waking up…” I grumbled tiredly into my soft covers and whimpered. I nuzzled my face into them and clenched my eyes shut, hoping that if I just tried hard enough, I could maybe chase the concept of sleep and tackle it for a few more minutes of pleasurable snoozing.

  “Hey, Luna!” My brother’s voice boomed from behind my bedroom door, which was then quickly followed by his fist banging against it. “Pa wants us both downstairs pronto! Get dressed!”

  I let off something akin to a shriek of frustration as I filed pathetically beneath my warm bnkets. “I’m sleeping!” I protested. “It’s still morning!”

  “It’s ten till noon, you tore,” Varis said with a snort.

  “A-a tore?!” I shot up from my bed, my dark, messy hair clouding my vision. “Did you just call me a torenia?!” He’d essentially called me a sloth or a tortoise. Yet, I wouldn’t get any crification as I could hear him chuckling to himself as he walked down the hall.

  I huffed and grumbled curses under my breath. I brushed my bangs out of my face and tucked my hair behind my twitching ears. I shivered as my pointed tips came into contact with the crisp air.

  “Cursed old man keeping the house so cold,” I huffed and tossed the rest of my covers off and shivered again. I was in nothing but my white nightgown; it was the start of Eunomia, the beginning of summer, yet the house felt like the end of fall, how cold my father kept it.

  I hugged myself and stood up from my bed, which rested against the wall opposite my window. My room was tight, a bit messy, especially now with my bnkets and pillows scattered everywhere. I swear, sleeping, I always seem to be fighting something. Gods have mercy on any brave soul who shares a bed with me, I might just end up suplexing them.

  As stated, across from my bed was my window; below it was my work desk. On it were various books and journals, some of which were just typical reading material, such as Shlondra’s Quest, a fun adventuring series "inspired" by true events; however, I think inspiration is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. Though I've had some textbooks I’ve been studying in my free time, like “Magic. What Is It Really?” by Sardni Malfroy. Or, this one I’ve found fascinating, “The One Power,” by Eisn Doer. Each schor had their own differing view on ether and how magic as a whole works. I had originally thought that everyone in this world had a clear idea of what magic was, or at least a base idea of it. That was certainly far from the truth.

  Sardni, for instance, saw magic as a science. A natural concept that existed, like air or gravity. It was a w of nature that served a specific purpose in our universe, which, under certain circumstances, can be maniputed and controlled within the confines of its restraints.

  Eisn Doer, on the other hand, saw magic in a more spiritual aspect. To them, they said that ether is a gift from the divine—a power the gods had given to us to nurture and grow. In doing so, we’ve become bound to them, and that every aspect of all living life carries a piece of the gods with it, through our wells.

  Reading each of their sides was intriguing, especially when the two were practically taking jabs at each other over specific theories, kinda like a form of sub-tweeting.

  Normally, I’d find research boring, and sometimes, I still do. But now and again, a topic or idea would grip me. In this case, magic. Ever since the day I cast my first spell with my mother, I’ve been interested in learning more. Hell, ever since I was born into this world, I’ve had a fascination with magic.

  But as I learned, my parents originally kept me from learning magic because they wanted me to grow up and live a “normal” kid’s life, as they put it. It wasn’t until the Veinrite invasion that my parents decided to reverse this decision. It was too te to come then, I wasn’t even a novice when everything went the way it did… I try not to dwell on what happened all those years ago. The “what abouts” or “I shoulda dones” are pointless to go over. Yet, sometimes, I can’t help but wonder how things would’ve gone if I had just pushed a little harder. Instead of waiting till I was seven to learn magic, what if I started at five? Or even four, I was already talking come then.

  I took a deep breath and shook my head. Let it go. I thought to myself. Think of the sun above clouds, as Truth had said. I took a second breath, held it, counted to five, then released, and with it, the thoughts vanished, like a pne soaring above the clouds.

  When I opened my eyes, I turned my attention away from my study to my bookshelf. To call it a “bookshelf” is a bit generous. While it did carry a handful of books I’ve gathered over the years, it mostly held miscelneous items. Such as the enigma bag my mother had given to me, and my wand. Part of me wished I had a better pce to store it; keeping such a valuable item so openly visible in this room probably wasn’t a good idea. As a matter of fact, it was probably no different than keeping a gun out on the counter.

  Then again, if anyone grabbed it, they’d need to know how to use it. I thought.

  Other such items I had exposed that shouldn’t be were my “womanly” products, Isa had elegantly described them as. I won’t sugarcoat it; they were pads. Last year, the worst point of my life had finally happened. I entered “womanhood” as everyone put it. I won’t get into the details, just know it was foul, painful, and I was practically bedridden for a little over a week. Just thinking about it now makes me shudder and wonder, why the hell haven’t I put these away yet?

  “Once I’m dressed, I’ll take care of you,” I muttered to myself as I eyed the box. Yet, I knew myself too well. That was a lie. I was going to forget the moment I turned away, and sure enough. I walked away from the bookshelf toward the opposite end of my room, where my closet and vanity mirror were.

  While the room itself was cramped, it was long, and on this side, in front of my mirror, I kept things clear and spacious, mainly for one of my new hobbies. Well, it wasn’t necessarily new; I used to do this back in Oren, but now with father’s help, I was able to enjoy dressing up again. Father recently began giving Varis and me an allowance, five coppers a week, which amounted to about two silver a month.

  He started doing this after he got a new job as a security guard for Mr. Rosewall, who also helped us find this new home. After Papa’s first payday, he was shocked at the amount he’d gotten, so much so that he made it out to be that he had to share some of it with Varis and me. He tried to hide it as, “You kids need to learn how to handle money early.” But really, I think he just wanted to spoil us.

  But, hey, I’m not compining. With the money, I’ve been able to afford new clothes that actually fit me. I swear, these growth spurts have been hitting me every week, it seems like. Every month, I have to get new bras and dresses because I’m outgrowing them faster than I can buy them!

  Looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but smile at who I saw. It’s taken ages, it feels like, and multiple sessions of being chewed out by Rational and Truth, but the girl… no, the young woman I saw in the mirror looking back was me. I rarely felt that sensation of disgust anymore whenever I saw myself; that little bubbly feeling of excitement in me was no longer something to feel ashamed of.

  The tall, slim, and curvy girl who resembled her mother almost to a T was me. Luna Ashflow. From sharp, blue eyes, long dark hair, and a little nose, all of it was me. No longer did I feel like a freak pying a role; I was a young, growing elven girl like everyone else my age.

  Running a hand through my messy bedridden hair, I smiled and did a little twirl in my gown in front of the mirror. Admiring myself as the fabric rustled a bit in the air. I giggled to myself and sighed as I stepped over to the closet and opened it, then dread. Absolute dread washed over me.

  Just what the hell am I going to wear today?

  At the time, I was blinded by the inevitable. I was overwhelmed, and the honeyed words he dripped into my ears spurred me onward. Oh, a fool I was. A soddened fool…

  ImmortanJoJo