Birds chirped on a warm afternoon, their melodies mingling with the laughter of children frolicking in the playground. The joyful sounds traveled far across the landscape. Nearby, a solitary girl about four years old stood under the shade of a tree, observing the playful scene with a thoughtful expression. Her long bleach-white hair danced in the gentle evening breeze, framing her face and cascading down her back. Her golden irises, striking against her bronze skin, revealed a longing to join the other children in their games.

  “Why are you not playing with the others, Miss Mashal?” a gentle voice inquired from behind her.

  Startled, the girl whipped her head around, the momentum causing her lengthy hair to swing and smack lightly against her face. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her chest tightened with surprise. However, upon recognizing the familiar presence of the person who had sneaked up on her, she quickly composed herself. With a small shrug, she tried to play it cool, as though the unexpected voice hadn't phased her at all.

  Her eyes met those of a kind woman who smiled warmly down at her. The girl's initial surprise faded into curiosity as she pondered the question. She glanced back at the children, their laughter and games beckoning her to join. Yet, her shyness, a sense of being different held her back.

  The gentle presence beside her seemed to understand, offering quiet companionship without pressuring her to speak. Together, they stood under the tree, the girl's gaze drifting between the vibrant scene of play and the comforting presence of her companion. In that moment, she felt seen and accepted, her unique qualities acknowledged without judgment. It was a small but significant step toward finding her place in the world around her.

  “They don’t want a freak like me playing with them.”

  “You are not a freak. You have something special they do not possess.” The kind woman processed their next set of words. “Which makes them scared of you. If they do not want to take the time to get to know you, then they are not worth your time.”

  “They call me names and it hurts.”

  Cia kneeled and patted her on the head.

  “You are Adalissie Mashal. Nothing more, nothing less.” Cia reached her hand out toward Adalissie. “Now come. Your mother awaits.”

  Adalissie held on tightly to Cia’s hand, her small fingers intertwined with those of her caretaker. Her heart felt heavy with the weight of unspoken worries and the deep longing that came from missing her mother. It had been months since Adalissie had last seen her, ever since the unexpected collapse in her study.

  The doctors had tried to explain her mother’s condition, but their words were complex and distant, a tangle of medical jargon that felt beyond her young comprehension. All Adalissie understood was that her mother was unwell and that she wanted desperately to see her smile again.

  She glanced up at Cia, the woman who had become a steady presence in her life during this difficult time. Cia’s face bore the signs of her own sorrow; the trails of dry mascara marked her cheeks, evidence of tears shed in moments of solitude. Despite her own grief, Cia had remained a source of strength and comfort for Adalissie, offering reassurance and warmth when it was needed most.

  “Is mommy okay?” Adalissie asked.

  Cia’s voice cracked. “Yes, little one. Everything is fine.”

  The drive to the hospital, although relatively short, stretched on interminably for Adalissie. Each passing minute felt like an eternity as a whirlwind of troubling thoughts swirled in her mind. She stole glances at Cia, noticing the silent tears that escaped when Cia believed she wasn’t being watched, each one a testament to the shared weight of their anxiety.

  As they arrived at the hospital, Adalissie was greeted by the sight of doctors, nurses, and government officials gathered outside, their presence adding to the gravity of the situation. She rubbed her eyes, momentarily blinded by the bright lights of the lobby, and felt a knot tighten in her stomach. The officers who escorted her through the hallways did so with a solemnity that only deepened her apprehension.

  The quiet of the corridor was punctuated by the faint shuffle of feet and the soft murmur of subdued conversations. Nurses paused in their duties to bow their heads in sorrow as Adalissie passed, each gesture a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of her visit. The sight made her heart sink further, a palpable ache settling within her chest. She felt tears beginning to form again, droplets that splashed onto the back of her hand before she hastily wiped them away.

  Entering the room, Adalissie was struck by the sound of sporadic beeping from the machines surrounding her mother's bed. Tubes and hoses connected to the frail figure lying there, a stark contrast to the vibrant woman she remembered. Strangers filed out silently, leaving Adalissie alone with her mother, the room echoing with the rhythmic hum of medical equipment.

  Her mother’s voice, though raspy and weak, broke the silence with a gentle tremor. Each word she spoke carried the weight of love and longing, a testament to their bond despite the physical frailty that had overtaken her.

  “Is my daughter here yet?”

  Adalissie darted toward her mother, releasing Cia's hand in her haste. Cia took a step forward but quickly hesitated, choosing instead to give them space for their reunion, knowing how important this moment was for both of them.

  "Mom!" Adalissie exclaimed, clutching her mother's hand tightly. The warmth of the touch was both familiar and reassuring. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice colored with concern and the multitude of questions that had been building up over the months.

  Hearing her mother’s voice after such a long time was a balm to her soul. Tears streamed down her cheeks, yet, despite the situation, a smile spread across her face, bright and full of unguarded joy. It was a complex mixture of emotions—relief, happiness, and an overwhelming urge to fill her mother in on everything she had missed.

  "Today at school..." Adalissie began, her voice a little breathless from the whirlwind of emotions. She wanted to share every detail, every small triumph and challenge she had experienced while her mother lay in silence.

  “My precious daughter.”

  The blonde, dark-skinned woman lay motionless, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, seemingly unaware of the intensity with which Adalissie clung to her arm. Adalissie’s smile slowly faded as she noticed her mother's distant gaze.

  "Mom?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

  Her mother turned her head slightly, her voice soft and filled with an almost ethereal calm. "You are destined for great things, my love," she said, a weak laugh escaping her lips. "I wish to see the new era you bring. I am so sorry that—"

  Before she could finish, the room was pierced by the shrill, continuous tone of a machine, signaling the end. Adalissie’s eyes widened in fear as she glanced frantically between her mother's peaceful face and the ominous machine. Instinctively, she looked back at Cia, who stood frozen in the doorway, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed quietly.

  Suddenly, a flash of light, brighter than the sun, filled the room. Adalissie, overwhelmed by emotion and confusion, kneeled beside her mother, her heart aching with a mix of loss and bewilderment. In that moment, a miraculous transformation occurred—white, feathery wings unfurled from Adalissie's back, spanning the width of the bed and enveloping her mother in a protective embrace.

  Cia, eyes wide with shock but driven by love and the need to comfort, rushed into the room. She wrapped her arms around Adalissie, offering warmth and solace to the grieving child. As the brilliant light began to dim, Adalissie's wings drooped, reflecting the weight of her sorrow and the enormity of what had just transpired.

  The hallways outside were no longer silent; the sound of hurried footsteps and urgent voices approached, drawn by the miraculous display. Inside the room, however, time seemed to stand still, as Cia held Adalissie close, whispering words of comfort and reassurance.

  In the stillness that followed, Adalissie felt the profound impact of her mother's final words and the weight of her own emerging power. It was a moment that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another, filled with uncertainty but also with the promise of the great things her mother had foreseen.

  ***

  Thick smoke swirled through the dimly lit room of the run-down apartment, curling around the worn furniture and clinging to the faded wallpaper. Outside, the wail of sirens briefly penetrated the paper-thin walls, a familiar backdrop to the life inside. The acrid scent of burnt skin, mingled with the smell of smoldering paper, seeped out through the unsealed front door, a testament to the harsh realities of this neighborhood where such occurrences were tragically routine.

  In the oppressive haze, a teenage girl sat silently, her eyes watering from the smoke, or perhaps from something deeper. The sizzle of a cigarette being extinguished punctuated the stillness, followed by a quiet whimper from the girl as the mid-thirties woman beside her lifted the cigarette from her arm. Remarkably, the burnt skin healed almost instantly, leaving no trace of the injury—a phenomenon that seemed as normal in this household as it was extraordinary.

  The woman, frustration etched into her expression, reached for another cigarette, her movements sharp and practiced. She exhaled a cloud of smoke, then turned her gaze to the girl sitting next to her on the threadbare couch.

  “Be a good girl and get Mama more Hellhounds from her room,” she instructed, her voice carrying both a command and a weary resignation.

  With watery eyes, the girl looked at her drunk caretaker and whimpered, “Cia...”

  “Now, Adalissie!”

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  Cia hurled the empty Hellhound box across the room in a fit of frustration, the cardboard skidding to a halt against the wall. The clatter echoed through the small apartment, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence that usually filled the space. Feeling defeated, Adalissie dutifully carried out the task she'd been given, resigning herself to the familiar routine as she made her way to Cia’s bedroom.

  As she stepped into the room, a wave of dread washed over her. This once-happy home had become a place of tension and unease ever since Velcun, her foster father, had entered their lives. Memories of better times resurfaced unbidden, times when Cia would come home from work with takeout in hand, her face lighting up with a smile as they settled in to watch movies together. Those evenings had been filled with laughter and warmth, a cocoon of safety and love where Adalissie could let her guard down and simply be a child.

  But those days felt like a distant dream now. Velcun had changed everything. His presence brought an edge to the air, a sharpness that sliced through the comfort they once shared. On nights when he came home early, the atmosphere in the apartment shifted to something darker. He would give Cia pills that made her zone out, transforming her into a shadow of the vibrant person she used to be.

  Adalissie missed the motherly Cia, the woman who had taken her in and made her feel cherished. As she rummaged through the clutter to find another pack of cigarettes, she vowed silently to hold onto those happier memories, to remember the Cia who had once been her anchor in a turbulent world.

  She returned to the living room with the cigarettes, placing them beside Cia with a quiet sigh. The routine continued, but Adalissie's heart held onto hope that one day, the warmth and laughter might return, and the oppressive shadow of Velcun would be nothing more than a memory.

  Adalissie searched the room thoroughly, her past experiences guiding her to where she knew she would find what she was looking for. In the dresser's top drawer, hidden beneath a pile of socks, she discovered the last remaining carton of cigarettes. As she reached for them, a familiar sensation prickled at her mind—a small tingle, like an itch, that quickly escalated into a throbbing ache.

  She paused, bracing herself against the growing discomfort. The itch intensified, transforming into pure, searing pain that seemed to radiate from deep within her skull. It was a sensation she had endured before, a relentless assault, but had learned to bear. Adalissie clenched her jaw, determined not to let it overpower her. She focused on her breathing and pushed through the pain, willing herself to move past it and carry on.

  With the carton in hand, she made her way back out of the room. Despite the pain, she maintained her composure, knowing that she couldn't afford to show weakness. Her resolve was a testament to her resilience, a quiet strength that had seen her through many challenging moments.

  As Adalissie stepped into the hallway, the pain intensified to a level she had never experienced before, crashing over her like a tidal wave. Not daring to yell, Adalissie shut her eyes and clasped her head, trying to cage the overwhelming suffering that had taken hold. This pain was different from before—more intense, more consuming, and somehow charged with an energy she couldn't quite comprehend. As the sensation washed over her, she felt a shift deep within.

  Her dark brown irises flickered, transforming into an illuminating gold that shone brightly, casting a warm, radiant light down the dimly lit hallway like a spotlight. The glow was intense, almost otherworldly, a manifestation of something powerful and profound within her. Through the haze of pain, Adalissie sensed that this was more than a mere physical transformation; it was an awakening of something dormant inside her.

  Spots on her back itched as the skin tore sprouting wing joints. Strands of blonde and white blended into her brown hair. Tiny bone stubs broke through her skull, releasing some of the pain. She squatted and pulled her legs close to her chest while she tightly closed her eyes.

  “No, not now.” She mumbled as she rocked back and forth. “Please stop.”

  Down the hallway, a door slammed open followed by heavy footsteps coming toward her. A human male towered over the scared girl.

  “What did I tell you about using your powers in my house, freak?”

  The man unbuckled his belt and wiped it off his pants with a crack. She knew what came next, and her body froze. She wanted to scream, but the lump in her throat prevented her from letting out a peep. One, two, three strikes from his waistband, leaving red marks on her skin that healed as quickly as they formed. Her heart pumped faster, and she experienced an unfamiliar might swell deep inside.

  The tiny bone stubs on Adalissie's forehead elongated and twisted, forming large, imposing horns that curved upwards, lending her an otherworldly appearance. As the transformation continued, a pitch-black ooze seeped from her scalp, cascading down to drape over her once-pristine white hair, staining the carpet.

  The transformation continued to sweep over Adalissie, altering her appearance in profound and unsettling ways. The whites of her eyes turned into a deep obsidian, creating a stark contrast with her pupils, which had deepened into a glowing ruby red, radiating an eerie light. The change in her gaze gave her an intense, almost hypnotic presence, as if she could see into realms beyond the ordinary.

  Her teeth elongated into sharp, prominent fangs that gently pressed against her bottom lip, a reminder of the raw, untamed power coursing through her. Her fingertips darkened to the same pitch-black hue as her hair, the transformation completing a look that was both fearsome and ethereal.

  “Velcun, ka rad daidh no uravnaio!”

  A small flame flickered to life at the tip of Adalissie's finger, casting a warm, flickering light that contrasted sharply with the darkness of her transformation. Her ebony wings fanned out pushing up against the walls of the hallway. As she spoke, her lips moved with a fluid grace, but the voice that emerged was not her own—it was deeper, resonating with confidence and authority. The sound was enough to send a chill through Velcun, striking fear deep into his core.

  Velcun stumbled backward, his back pressing against the hallway wall in a desperate attempt to gain some distance. He struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what he was witnessing, his mind racing with disbelief and dread.

  As the flame danced on her finger, it illuminated her features—the twisted horns, the glowing ruby pupils, and the obsidian eyes—painting a picture of raw, unbridled power. She was no longer the girl he thought he knew; she was something far greater, a being of potential and mystery that defied his understanding.

  Velcun’s instincts screamed for him to flee, but he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing and formidable figure before him.

  Lengthy black-tipped nails gently coiled around Velcun’s throat, pushing him up the wall further. The ruby glow of her eyes pierced deep into his core as his trachea caved in from the pressure of her hold.

  “I’m not… sorry… for what I did… you ungrate–”

  The sudden crash of bottles shattering on the hardwood floor in the next room snapped Adalissie's attention away from Velcun. She released her grip, and Velcun's body crumpled to the floor.

  Drawn by the sound, she moved with purpose toward its source, the flames at her fingertips flickering with each step. In the next room, Cia huddled in the corner, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief. She had upended furniture in a desperate attempt to create a barrier between herself and the being that Adalissie had become. Her heart pounded as she struggled to reconcile the sight of her foster daughter with the powerful entity standing before her.

  Adalissie paused, the ruby glow of her eyes softening as she took in the scene. Despite the fear she saw in Cia’s eyes, somewhere deep within her transformed self, the part of her that was still Adalissie felt a pang of longing, an urge to reassure and protect. The room was tense, filled with unspoken words and emotion. For a moment, she thought Cia would revert back to her once caring self, to ease her pain, tell her everything was going to be okay.

  “S-stay back, you m-monster.” Cia cried, holding out a broken glass bottle.

  Adalissie threw the carton of Hellhounds she still clutched in her hands towards Cia.

  “Mom’s death deeply scarred you in ways others would never hope to understand. I did, Cia. Velcun changed you and not for the better.” Adalissie inched closer to Cia’s face and ran her long fingernail across her delicate features. “You’ve fallen from grace, Cia.”

  “Every time I look at you…” Tears streamed down Cia’s face. “I’m reminded of what I lost. She… You were her world, and I loved her.”

  “I know.” Adalissie’s dreadful form returned to her innocent teenage self. Tears streamed down her face. “Please come back to me.”

  ***

  Adalissie sat alone in her superior’s office, her expression calm and unyielding as objects were hurled her way. Her captain, a towering figure whose presence commanded attention, was in the midst of a full-blown tirade. His arm swept across the desk in a fit of anger, sending papers fluttering like frantic birds and a ceramic coffee mug—emblazoned with "World’s Best Dad"—crashing to the ground, shattering into pieces.

  The captain, known for his intensity and dedication, often spent his off days working out, honing his physical prowess. If his swing had been any lower, the entire desk might have joined the mug against the wall, such was the force of his frustration. Yet despite his intimidating display, Adalissie remained unfazed, her demeanor steady and composed.

  She had faced far worse than her captain's fury during her time in the field and understood that his anger stemmed from a place of concern and responsibility. To him, the recent mission had gone awry, and the risks she had taken were unacceptable. But Adalissie knew that every decision she made was calculated, driven by necessity and the unpredictable nature of their work.

  As her captain's rage echoed around the room, Adalissie waited patiently for the storm to subside, enduring his wrath with the quiet strength that had become her hallmark. Despite the tense atmosphere, she maintained her resolve, ready to explain her actions and stand by the choices that had brought her back here, alone and determined to face whatever consequences awaited her.

  “Tell me again why I have three stiffs in the morgue?” He inhaled deeply and exhaled, attempting to calm himself. “This was a joint operation between three Kingdoms. Do you know how royally fucked we are?”

  “Well, Rorgal didn’t make it, either. Sir.”

  “Is that what you get out of this?” His large hands pulled his chair closer. “Until this fuck up gets resolved, I’m giving you a new assignment. Far away from me and this Kingdom.”

  “Captain-”

  Her superior slammed his fist on the table with such force that the polished finish cracked under the impact. The loud, sudden noise reverberated through the office, a physical manifestation of his anger and frustration. Adalissie sat quietly, absorbing the tension in the room. She was keenly aware of the delicate balance between asserting her perspective and respecting the hierarchical dynamics at play.

  Though she had a strong desire to defend her actions, to articulate the rationale behind the tactics she had employed, Adalissie knew that now was not the time. Experience had taught her that engaging in a debate when he was in such a volatile mood would be unproductive, potentially escalating the situation further.

  “It’s another joint operation, but you are taking a backseat on this. Maybe you’ll learn something from…” The captain adjusted his glasses. “Amzer Bright. Not our jurisdiction, but they are seeking help.”

  Her death grip indented the foam padding on the armrest. She dug deeper before letting go when she felt her fingers poke through the fake leather. Her jaw tensed and she bit down harder, keeping her feelings in check. She wanted to scream. It wouldn’t do any good, but it might make her feel better.

  “When am I leaving?” she asked, calmy.

  “Tonight. We have made all the arrangements for you.”

  He shifted his metal framed glasses that rested loosely on the bridge of his nose. He grabbed a few papers off his desk and stacked them in different piles.

  “Where am I going?” Adalissie asked.

  A few seconds passed before he noticed she had not left. He looked over the frames as they slipped down the bridge of his nose.

  “Black Hollow. A town, if that’s what you want to call it. I’d say it’s more of a fishing village.”

  “So, not worth my time.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Now get the hells out.”

  Dismissed from her superior’s office, Adalissie left the building as calmly as she entered. Tonight, she would depart for Black Hollow. This time, she would be more careful. Another mission like that could end things badly for her in a myriad of ways.