Glassy eyes stare into a reflection unknown.

  Tifalla never once thought that she would, one day, look at herself and fail to recognize who stared back. Her features were still undeniably her, but something was off; a distortion she couldn't quite place. She tried to lean closer in order to pinpoint the error, but she promptly and harshly yanked back by her hair into her seat. While the servants worked, she had nowhere else to go. She silently stared at her reflection and the reflection stared back.

  Her eyes looked lifeless, weighted by exhaustion and dread. Her lips, scarred and glossy, were pressed into a line as thin as could be. Her braids were being manipulated, pulled in different directions and tugged into form in order to accommodate her newest hairstyle. It resulted in a beautiful half up appearance that was both loose but refined. If it were any other occasion at any other time, Tifalla would have looked at herself with joy. To be made beautiful was, in her eyes, a blessing she could never take for granted.

  But Tifalla knew it was pointless. It was dressing up a doll to be burned in a pyre.

  Perhaps that was where her distant feelings stemmed from. Tifalla felt as if she were being mocked somehow. That all of this was a waste. The cruelty of nature would mar her skin and ruin her hair. The makeup painted onto her face was just that; paint. It would chip, wash out, and fade. She was being given one final curse from Cantabile; a farewell gift she never asked for. Could she not die under her own terms?

  When hands finally left her, Tifalla was ready to leave. Only, a visitor kept her planted in her chair, causing the already silent room to grow even quieter.

  Heavy footsteps padded past the door, stopping just shy of Tifalla in her seat. She looked up and met the eye of Tawhale. The thin strip of scarred flesh across his nose caused her to then look away. For a time, neither had anything to say. The aides within the room were clearly troubled by the silence of it all, but even they couldn't have been blind to the situation at hand. A man talking to a living corpse were usually stories of fantasy. In that moment, fantasy became reality.

  Tawhale spoke first. He was a punctual man who did not harbor the same sensibilities as most. He held up a long and thin box before Tifalla.

  “Your final gift,” he said curtly.

  Tifalla would not waste his time. She opened the box and peered into its contents.

  A hairpin sat waiting. It was bigger, heavier, and far more refined than any she had worn in the past.

  “Place this into your hair.”

  There was little warmth in his tone. He spoke as if he had nothing to do with it. Even so, Tifalla could see his face. The tense jaw, the downcast eyes just as glassy as hers, he was restraining himself to remain professional. This was all a part of the ritual. Tifalla recalled reading records of old. Councilmen gave priestesses a parting pin to place in their hair. It was a final wish for them to return alive.

  How amusing was that?

  For the first time since she woke up that day, Tifalla smiled. It was not a bitter or angered smile; she smiled with resignation and weariness. She smiled to reassure and comfort.

  “Thank you,” she said. “It's beautiful.”

  She spoke no lies. The pin was remarkable. Though heavy in weight, the feathers protruding from it gave a sense of light grandeur. With her thick winter robes, lace veil, and her bell, Tifalla thought she would look divine. So much so that she surely would not recognize herself in the mirror.

  The aides placed the pin into her hair and her veil fell over her face. It was a small act of mercy for a day in which she would see none. She stood up and met Tawhale's eye more closely. When she did, something was hastily pressed into her hand.

  She looked down and saw a charm. A single teal bead sat attached to sturdy paper. Inscribed on it were symbols she recognized written in dark ink.

  [ Safe Journeys. ]

  [ New Metamorphosis. ]

  She looked at Tawhale as she held the charm close.

  “I believe you will return. You must return. Until the very end, fight,” he said firmly.

  Tifalla chuckled. “Oh, you know I can't. Another Aria–”

  “I don't care if we must suffer another Aria of Chaos, you–!” he exhaled, calmer. “You must live.”

  His words made sense to her, but the reasoning behind it was elusive. He knew better than anyone what an Aria ruled by a Virtuosa of time could be. Even so, he insisted she try to live?

  “Sir, I don't understand. You know what's at stake.”

  Tawhale shook his head. “And I don't care. Fight, survive, live. If, for no one else, do so for me. I do not want to dig your grave.”

  His hands closed her fingers around the charm. They were cold, but gentle. Tawhale was a careful man, but rarely did she ever hear this much emotion in his voice.

  “The priestesses of time are my responsibility. I cannot protect you directly. But I can give you this. I can give you a reason to live if one does not exist. Do not let their words infect you. You do not have to die.”

  Before he could reveal too much of his heart, Tawhale turned to leave her behind. Tifalla would get no answers. All she had was one man's wish.

  To live… was she allowed?

  She looked at the charm in her hand.

  Someone wanted her to live. To win, even.

  Tifalla felt something shake inside her. The quiet resolve she had spent so much time building began to tremble.

  She didn't want to die. That was the one feeling she had to quash in order to maintain her tranquility. Now, those instincts returned— fear returned.

  Tawhale's back as he left seemed so small. He was her caretaker for four long years. She didn't expect such feelings to boil over in her final hour. But she knew then that she was a fool.

  “Thank you! I–”

  What? Was she planning to live now? After the promises she made and the goodbyes she had?

  Tifalla didn't know. She couldn't make any more promises.

  But a small, wounded part of herself wanted hope.

  “I want to see you again, Sir! May I?”

  Was she allowed to have such a desire?

  Tawhale stopped. He turned his head over his shoulder and he smiled. It was small and barely noticeable, but there all the same.

  “You may, Tifalla. I hope to see you again soon.”

  The door closed behind him. With it, the last chapter of her life ended before her eyes.

  Tifalla was a storm of emotions as Virtuosas were pulled from their rooms. She saw nearly every face with their own hairpins, furred coats, refined robes and veils. That is, except Laetitia. Tifalla saw the remnants of her pin thrown to the ground in pieces. She didn't have a moment to question it before they were brought outside of Cantabile.

  The cheers and jeers of many were a haunting symphony. Tifalla felt dazed beneath the gazes of so many. Though few stares were directed at her; though no one said goodbye to her, Tifalla felt like someone in the crowd was wishing her a safe journey.

  She held her tacet bell with her newly added charm brushing against the metal.

  The roar of noise left her heart in a frenzy.

  She had a choice to make as they marched down Cantabile's mountain. With every step, she drew nearer and nearer to that ever so imposing decision. She could not back away from it, nor avoid it. She could feel her fingers twitch and shake with every shuddered breath taken.

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  To live or to die.

  Tifalla had an answer. It came easier than she expected. That part did not leave her so fearful. What came beyond her decision was what did. She had to ask herself; ask him—

  “My Lord?”

  His answer came quickly.

  “Yes?”

  Tifalla could see her cold breaths fall from her mouth in puffs. As each Virtuosa stood before the forest, their starting line, she prepared for the signal to commence the race start.

  “If I were to live– if I were to survive– would you stay by my side through it all?”

  Her heart pounded in her ears. She could see the other Virtuosas nearby. Their starting points were spaced, but not by much.

  “I will remain at your side… you will not bear the burden alone…”

  “Please–” she thought.

  3…

  “Don't force me to do this alone.”

  2…

  Her eyes squeezed shut. The grip on her bell tightened.

  “I won't. In death, and in life, I will be with you,” he said.

  1…

  For a moment, Tifalla could feel a warmth against the back of her hand. She could see a broad, fragmented hand covering hers. It gently lifted her hand up and placed it to her chest. Her heart hummed beneath her fingers.

  Live. She must live. She must continue to let this organ beat.

  “My power is yours.”

  BEGIN.

  When Tifalla pushed herself forward, she found herself covering far more distance than she expected. She leaped far, landing on clumsy feet as she ran forward into the forest. Her feet moved faster, her legs pushed her harder, and within seconds she was deep into the thicket, well hidden behind trees. She stopped herself as a scream rang out. Though it came from quite a distance, Tifalla could still hear the conversation playing out following the shrill noise.

  “IT HURTS!”

  That was Dali's voice.

  “What's in Fantasia are you all doing?!”

  That sounded like Laetitia speaking.

  “What we're meant to do. Michi, hold her tighter. She won't cease her squirming,” Sirene spoke next.

  “Let her go! She poses no threat!” Laetitia yelled.

  “I'm afraid that won't be possible.”

  Fabienne was with the group. Michi seemed to be as well.

  “She has to die. It's over if she makes it far enough. Don't waste your time with her, Ophirius's chosen, she's a filthy child of darkness,” Sirene said.

  Tifalla felt her stomach churn. Dali continued to cry. Yet, what came after worsened Tifalla's nausea.

  “It's okay…” a sob broke through. “I– I shouldn't go on. Just please– don't make it hurt. I don't want to do this anymore…”

  The silence that followed was presumably a stunned one. Laetitia spoke first, her tone bewildered and betrayed.

  “You– what? No, that's not–!”

  “If it's her wish to die, then let it be so!” Sirene said with delight. “Only those worthy should live, no? I'm sure you'll understand in due time–”

  “ENOUGH!” Laetitia shrieked.

  Silence fell over the forest once more. Whatever happened amongst the group seemed to cause some sort of alarm.

  Sirene barked orders first. “Michi! Hurry! Deal with her. Fabienne, stop her, now!”

  Chaos broke out. Tifalla saw nothing besides massive rays of light cutting through the skies. Not a single bell had rung. Whatever caused trees to snap and fall, whatever caused the earth to quake, was the innate power of a Virtuosa.

  Tifalla watched as the heavens split before her eyes.

  This was Lord Ophirius' power.

  She could feel the residual tremors beneath her feet. The other Virtuosas were making use of their powers to stop Laetitia. Drawing dangerously close to her location, Tifalla forced herself to push forward to avoid their fight. She didn't know what was said next. She only continued running. It wasn't safe, she knew this well. The more time she stuck around, the better chances they had of catching her.

  She was only able to hear her. What took place between the five ended with a plume of flames and a scream so agonized it struck Tifalla to her core. It sounded final to her. When the noise came to an end, vocal cords burning away in a rising fire, a quiet stillness had settled. Tifalla knew then that someone had died.

  She need not see a body to know that Dali was no more. Laetitia's enraged screams punctuated the death. She failed to protect Dali from Michi. The event forced more urgency into Tifalla's legs.

  This was real. This was happening. There was no time to stand and gawk at it. Tifalla had to swallow the bile rising up her throat. Forward was the only way she could go.

  Even so, her mind went elsewhere. What had Dali done wrong? No, even if she had, it did not warrant such brutality. The youngest of them all, a mere child in comparison, was plucked from the world without a second thought.

  Her screams still rang in her head.

  But that couldn't matter anymore.

  Tifalla was next.

  Footsteps trailed after her, fast and urgent. She didn't dare look back at it. The smell of smoke and encroaching heat were all she needed to know to understand that Michi was hot on her trail. She gave chase like an attack dog, running on her master's orders.

  Butterflies and apparitions surrounded Tifalla in overwhelming numbers. She saw her own deaths, failures, and errors all across the forest floors. One had her hung lifelessly in a tree, her back shattered and useless. Another had her face first in the dirt, body burned to ash. She couldn't tell what she was meant to do. Not a single clear answer showed itself. All she knew was that she couldn't slow for even a second.

  The claw of death raked across her skin over every point of her body. It was disgustingly close.

  The two ran faster than any human should, but Michi had destruction on her side.

  Though she did not turn, Tifalla heard the sounds of a ringing bell. Following it were sounds of blasts filling the woods. Tifalla heard both flame and chaos. Each explosion seemed to push Michi, death, closer.

  Tifalla looked back just once. When she did, staring at her face to face was Michi. She wore a twisted expression of glee, and laughed at the terror in Tifalla's eyes.

  She needed to act. Michi's hand, bright white like a hot iron, was making its way towards Tifalla's face.

  A white apparition appeared. With its face melted away, Tifalla felt raw terror course through her veins.

  Her arm and legs acted quickly. After dodging to the right of Michi's hand, Tifalla's arm swung with her tacet bell in tow. The heavy metal collided harshly with skin and bone, knocking Michi entirely off her pace. She flew, her back hitting and completely snapping a nearby tree as Tifalla made her escape.

  The apparition disappeared. Many more images followed. Tifalla could feel her skin settle, no longer hounded by sensations of pain. Finally, Tifalla could see the forest more clearly. Perhaps she was safer than before? Surely that would have slowed Michi down. What human could shake off such a blow?

  She had no chance to catch her breath.

  Michi returned to chasing her within seconds. Tifalla could see the glow of flames consuming the nearby trees. Michi fully intended to burn everything around her to the ground. Had she lost her mind!?

  Explosions both high and low rocked Tifalla's movements. She had to struggle to avoid falling branches and trees as the world seemed to collapse around her. It was rough and anarchic destruction. No rhyme nor reason existed. Michi was simply having fun. A child played with food more elegantly than she did.

  Tifalla had nothing to fight with. Flames gradually consumed everything around her and explosions drew closer.

  From a tree not yet burned, Michi dropped down in front of Tifalla. She stopped in her tracks, narrowly colluding with a burning fist. Her way forward was blocked.

  “C’mere~” Michi purred. “This won't hurt too badly, I promise!”

  She threw another punch and Tifalla stumbled back from it. When another flaming punch came, she dodged it far more cleanly. Every hit thrown, Tifalla managed to avoid using her quick feet. Guided by the butterflies, she moved wherever proved safest, avoiding the yellow spots that signaled injury. She weaved a punch, was narrowly grazed by another, but managed to strike back with her tacet bell, hitting Michi's ribs with it. She coughed, staggered, and growled.

  “Taking the coward’s way out?! You're making this difficult!” she growled.

  With Michi enraged, Tifalla was unable to dodge any longer. Michi moved recklessly and violently. Every punch was monstrous and burning. Tifalla was struck in the shoulder first, burning at some of her layers. Her hits then collided with Tifalla's arms as she used them for defense. The next hit was taken directly by Tifalla's hands, burning the outer skin of her palms. That punch was followed by a sharp right hook into her forearms, burning the fabric and skin beneath. Tifalla could feel her bones groaning beneath the increased pressure, and the burns proved agonizing. Her head spun as pain sent her into a deeper panic. She had never been in a fight with a human before. Was it always this relentless? Tifalla found this comparable to wrestling with bulls at home. They broke bones with ease and threw her small body around like a sack of grass. They were so aggressive when angry. What was Tifalla meant to do?

  One of her uncles advised her on how to properly handle bulls. After scolding her for nearly getting herself killed, he patched up her scrapes and told her what to do.

  Never try to outrun. Bulls are always faster and stronger.

  Tifalla cried out as a punch hit her shoulder. Something was broken and she had no time to figure out what.

  Do not turn away. They will attack your back.

  Michi narrowly hit her square in the face. Her flames licked Tifalla's ear.

  Never run in a straight line. Try to get out of their way while running. Alter running paths to avoid them and use sharp turns at every chance.

  It finally clicked. Tifalla moved sharply to the side, allowing Michi to lunge past her. Her own strength forced her forward, and her body failed to react to Tifalla's precise movements in time. Tifalla shot her leg out from beneath her, tangling it with Michi's. The other woman fell right into the dirt.

  Tifalla resumed running. This time, she dodged and dipped behind large trees to make Michi's path more difficult. It didn't take the woman long to rise from her stumble. She gave chase after Tifalla and caused even greater destruction in her wake. She was frustrated, and with every sloppy movement Tifalla realized she was also getting tired. She was slowly gaining distance on Michi. Even so, she refused to let go.

  The two continued their game of chase when they came across a bridge spanning a ravine. The bridge was wooden. If Michi wanted, she could burn the entire thing down and trap Tifalla. The ravine was too deep to cross any other way. She had to get across as quickly as possible.

  “I'M NOT LETTING YOU GET AWAY!” she screeched.

  Tifalla ran as hard as she could. Michi was still behind, but not by much. She was narrowly caught by her hair before Michi suddenly yelled.

  Tifalla reached the bridge and began running across. When she reached the other side, she saw a figure standing between her and Michi. The Virtuosa of flame nursed a wound on her hand while glaring at her presumed opponent. The short hair was distinctly familiar.

  “Harriet?” Tifalla whispered.

  With a large bird flying to her arm, the woman looked at her with a smile.

  “Run on home, darlin’. I'll see you later,” she said calmly.

  Tifalla looked at her and Michi. The woman was clearly reaching her limit. The smoke from her own flames left her breaths dry, and her body doubled over. Her nose bled from Tifalla's strike, and parts of her clothes were burned or singed. Even so, her smile didn't fade.

  Tifalla shuddered.

  “Thank you! Stay safe, please!” she called.

  “Of course! I can't look bad in front of ladies, can I?” Harriet laughed.

  Still joking at a time like this, huh? Tifalla couldn't help but smile as she ran. Given free entry into the next part of the woods, Tifalla ran into the unknown.