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record XIX: toska//ansiedad.

“Come along now,” called the sweet voice of an elderly woman.

The sun danced within the strands of her greying hair and warmed up the world around it. Flowers swayed to a sweet song of summer, painting the bright, blue sky with life.

“To where...?” asked a young boy with long, ginger hair and pointed ears. His willowy limbs were covered in gashes and bruises and his face was pale and sickly.

“Why, to home, of course!” replied the older woman.

“B-But...I’m a Faerith Lied.”

“I know.”

“Of the Fabelwesen class.”

“I know.”

“That means I’m a monster...all I am meant to do is kill and be killed.”

The young boy began to sob. He lifted up his long, bony hands to cover his sleepless eyes.

“I’m a horrible, disgusting monster...”

The older woman walked closer to the boy and touched his thin, tear-stained face.

“No, you aren’t, my dear. You are a precious, beautiful creation.”

She brought the young boy into her arms.

“I’m so happy you’re alive...”

As she wrapped her arms around the sickly child, darkness swallowed up the sunlight. The flowers wilted away, and the once beautiful blue sky turned into grey storm clouds bursting with lightning and thunder.

The woman grabbed tightly to the boy as she slipped to the ground. The boy began to scream out her name. Tears burst from his eyes. As he looked around him, he saw familiar bodies, all devoid of life.

“You never should’ve been born...” chanted the cryptic breeze in its deep voice. The thunder joined in with an earth-shaking rumbling. The lightning added it’s sharp, electrifying voice to the mix.

The boy screamed as loudly as he could, pleading for them to stop talking. The dead flowers began to crawl up onto his legs, and with their strength, they began to pull him down into the dirt.

“Even the earth cries for your demise...” called the flowers. The boy sank into the dirt, with mud splattering his emaciated body. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He looked into the eyes of Evangelique, who had been there the whole time, watching the deplorable scene unfold.

He stared hopelessly into her eyes. Lifeless, haunted, lost...the boy called for Eva with his glassy, fading eyes.

Evangelique shot up from under her covers. Beads of sweat covered her brow and cheeks. She sat up in her pure white bed and wiped her face vigorously.

Her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings. Her breath was heavy, and she thought her herself to be like one who stood on the peak of a mountain--grasping for breath and dithered.

Fear painted her small, porcelain face, making sure it seemed as if she had seen a spirit.

“Tsubaki...” whispered Eva as she looked into the mirror in her room. Tear stains had dyed the edged of her eyelids red. She clasped her hands together. They shook severely.

“Elohim...please protect him. Give him strength...”

It had been a week since she last saw Tsubaki. She had been too busy to visit him or anyone else. Orientation for the school and preparation for the upcoming semester gave her no time for socialization outside of the university.

“Are you nervous?” asked Cordelia as she put a stack of dusty books upon Eva’s classroom desk.

“Not as much as I thought I’d be,” replied Eva as she stared out the window.

She remembered the first day she walked into the classroom. On that day, she talked to Tsubaki for the first time. She had gotten to know him a bit better since then, but he still was very mysterious to her.

“Your students are very kind,” mentioned Cordelia. “So they shouldn’t be too difficult to handle.”

Cordelia looked at Eva, whose shoulders drooped down. She began to walk closer to her, setting her hand on her back.

“Is there something the matter?” asked Cordelia tenderly.

Eva turned away from the window, surprised by Cordelia’s touch and concern.

“No, nothing at all!” replied Eva.

“Evangelique, if something is wrong, then--”

“The kiddos are here!” declared Cyril in a songbird tone. Behind him, young boys and girls of middle school age walked into the classroom and sat at their assigned desks.

Althia, Ago, Yasha, and Augustine followed behind the children, making sure each child found where they were supposed to sit. Other teachers came to join in on watching Evangelique’s orientation.

Evangelique inhaled, dusted off her violet dress, and quickly walked to the front of the room.

“Good afternoon, children,” started Eva. “I’m glad to see you all are well today.”

“We are happy to see you too, Matron De’Sejour,” chimed the class.

She smiled politely and looked at her students. They were all nicely dressed in their dapper, navy blue dress suits and lovely, frilled dresses. Each one of them was healthy and happy.

Then she saw him--a half-starved, ginger-haired boy with terror in his emerald eyes.

Evangelique gasped as she tripped up on her own feet. She felt herself move backward and shortly after, found herself sitting on the front of her large desk.

“Eva!” shouted Yasha. Both she and Ago ran towards her.

“Are you alright?” asked Ago, concerned.

“Y-Yes...I am...” she replied as she clumsily stood up. She looked around her room.

The boy was gone. Eva let out a breath, her lips trembling.

“Now...” began Eva, who brushed her hands through her wavy, maroon hair.

“Miss?” spoke a young boy with a raised hand.

“Yes?” asked Eva.

“Why are you crying?”

Evangelique lifted a hand to her face. Tears trickled onto her fingers.

“I...I...” stuttered Eva. Her voice began to break as tears flooded unceasingly.

“Sister Eva, come with me,” demanded Ago, who had rushed to her side.

She looked at Cordelia, who nodded at her. Ago gently touched her back and led her out of the classroom, into the hallway. Murmurs from other teachers and glances from the students pierced Eva with humiliation and bewilderment.

They turned left, towards the stairs that led to the foyer of the school.

“Ago...” she whispered woefully, her voice shaking beneath her quick movements down the stairs. “What happening to me...?”

“When you become a Lieutenant, the Clansmen you serve under shares his power with you,” began Ago gravely. “Kioku-daya’s powers deal with foretelling and dreams. The visions you keep getting are an outcome of the power Kioku has given you.”

“But...” she sniffled, reminding herself of a small child. “I’m so scared...”

Ago stopped walking down the stairs and looked at her with concern.

“I-I keep seeing Eleanor...and a young boy who looks just like Tsubaki.”

Her knees began to quiver. She grabbed onto her dress, right where her heart was.

“Tsubaki is lost...I can...I....”

Desperate sobs escaped from her mouth; echoing through the open foyer. Glassy teardrop slid down her cheeks, onto her lips. Her hands moved to cover her mouth and silence her cries.

Two strong arms embraced Evangelique from behind, cradling her.

“If something is wrong, then let’s go see him, together,” whispered Yasha. She glanced at Ago, giving him an understanding look.

“We will all go pay him a visit,” stated a voice. Yasha looked up from where she stood. Augustine, Cyril, and Yasha walked down the stairs carefully.

“Eva, if you are hurt, you don’t need to hide it,” said Althia softly.

She walked to Evangelique, stood before her, and clung to her empathetically. Her delicate hands grasped onto the folds of Eva’s dress top.

“Eva,” started Cyril. Though you have been with us for these few months, we have come to care for you. Nothing will change that.”

He walked closer to Eva and put a hand on her head, gently. Cyril came to her side and wrapped his long, blue, silk-clad arms around Althia, Evangelique, and Yasha.

“You don’t have to bear anything alone,” said Augustine quietly.

Evangelique’s cries continued, but this time, they were much softer.

Never in her whole life had she met such kind people, people who would come to comfort her when they had only met her two months before. People she had only just begun to know.

She could feel genuine empathy from them. Their company touched her with lachrymose heart with love and kindness.

There was no way of expressing her gratefulness in words.

“So he lives in Gladiolus Court...” murmured Cyril as he looked around at the cottages nearby. The seven walked together in the snow, carrying a wicker basket of food and tea.

“Isn’t this place a bit dangerous?” asked Althia.

“It used to be,” replied Yasha. “It has cleaned up throughout the years, though.”

“Wasn’t that because of the legendary woman with the saber?” questioned Cyril.

“Yeah, something like that,” said Yasha. She smirked. “They said she was a kind and older lady, yet she was very fierce.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard about her, I hope she’s been alright...” remarked Cyril.

Evangelique felt a pang of sorrow. The aged woman with the saber had to be none other than Eleanor.

She shook her head and looked at the cottage with the number “1703” over it.

“We’re here,” said Eva, walking to the front door. The others stood silently behind her. She knocked gently on the wooden door.

Just as before, there was no reply.

“Tsubaki?” called Eva softly. “Are you home?”

She knocked again. This time, the door opened on its own. A shiver descended her spine as she walked inside cautiously.

The house was like a cold and lifeless cave, abandoned by even the most unsociable nocturne creatures. The smell of rotting flowers wafted from the creaking wooden floors, tinging the air with deathly misery.

Shadows conglomerated together as if to be a crowd watching her. They whispered in their wary tone, introducing a new sense of uneasiness to Evangeline’s body.

“Tsubaki...?” she whispered. Distress danced in her every breath. She noticed the closed door that she believed led to a study.

It was cracked open.

As she walked towards it, she became more terrified. She clutched onto the doorknob, and her heartbeat quickened.

When she opened the door, she looked down--A shriek of unadulterated anguish broke free from her lungs.

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