"Seraphina! Seraphina! Are you okay? What's wrong?!" Elara dropped to her knees in a panic, reaching out to comfort me.

  "Yeah... I'm fine," I lied, forcing the words out through my gritted teeth. "It's just my period..."

  My right hand dug into the floor to anchor myself while my left hand gripped my throbbing temples. With a shaky breath, I allowed Elara to take my arm. I slowly hauled myself back up, leaning heavily against her support.

  "Are you sure?" Elara asked, looking worried.

  I took a moment to compose myself. "Yes, it's fine. I think I'll head back to the dorm and rest for a bit."

  Elara looked like she wanted to say something else, but she stopped herself. I turned around and began to walk down the hallway, putting some distance between us.

  I hadn't taken more than a few steps when a sudden warmth enveloped me from behind. It was a fleeting hug, lasting only a second, but it stopped me in my tracks. I turned to face her, surprised by the gentle emotion in her eyes.

  Elara reached out and took my hand, holding it with both of hers. She looked down at my palm for a moment before speaking softly.

  "You said everything will be fine," she said, "but you shouldn't burden yourself by suffering alone."

  She lifted her head. When our eyes met, her worried expression melted into a reassuring, beaming smile. "There are people who care for you a lot, you know."

  I felt the tension in my chest loosen just a fraction. I gave her a small, genuine nod. "Thank you, Elara. Really."

  I pulled my hand away gently and resumed my walk, leaving her alone in the quiet hallway as I retreated to the safety of my room.

  I stepped into my room and walked to the window to look outside. My mind drifted to thoughts of who I really was. All this time, I kept reassuring myself that I was Viper, or perhaps an amalgamation of both identities. I kept telling myself that I knew exactly what I was.

  But what if I don't?

  Viper supposedly never had emotions, yet he had chosen to be with Lyra. He was practical in many things, but his emotions were never one of them.

  For the first time, I felt truly lost. This was something completely out of my field of expertise: mental health.

  My gaze drifted from the window to the desk in the corner. There, catching the light, was the candy Kaelen had given me a long time ago. And sitting ominously right next to it was a vial containing a potion I had synthesized myself. Its purpose was simple: to dull the senses, and more importantly, to silence these overwhelming emotions.

  My fingers trembled as they hovered over the candy, seeking comfort. But then, with a sudden jerk, my hand snapped to the vial instead.

  It was a prototype, a volatile mixture I had saved for a desperate future. I knew the risks. One sip could shatter my nervous system or simply stop my heart.

  I held the cold glass against my palm. It offered a simple solution. If it worked, I would become efficient again. I would be Viper. And if it failed... if it killed me... then the pain would stop regardless.

  I should take it.

  y?o?u? ?s?h?o?u?l?d?

  But what if it kills me?

  d?o?e?s? ?i?t? ?m?a?t?t?e?r??

  No. It doesn't.

  d?r?i?n?k? ?i?t?.?

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Maybe I should...

  I popped the cork. The smell of chemical suppression filled my nose as I slowly raised the rim to my lips.

  KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

  The sudden crash of the door bursting open shattered the silence.

  My body reacted before my mind could. My hand jerked downward in a defensive reflex, and the vial slipped from my grasp. It hit the floor, spilling the dark liquid across the wood.

  A maid stood frozen in the doorway, trembling.

  "A-aebe abeidi abe... t-the door w-was... o-open," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

  I stared at her, my face a mask of absolute indifference. Slowly, I lowered my eyes to the mess on the floor. I had spilled it all. The choice had been taken out of my hands.

  I raised my gaze back to the intruder.

  Ah. It's that stuttering maid from before…

  "What do you want?" I asked, slowly walking toward the doorway.

  The maid shrank back, her hands trembling. "I... I w-was... c-checking... the w-windows from outside," she stammered, fighting to form a coherent sentence.

  She swallowed hard, looking past me at the spilled liquid on the floor before meeting my eyes again. "I-I saw y-you..."

  "What?" I asked, looking at her with total lack of interest. I just wanted her to leave.

  Her eyes darted around the room, unable to meet mine, while her fingers twisted together in panic. Suddenly, she remembered why she was there. She reached for a serving cart behind her and lifted a heavy plate, but her hands shook so badly the china rattled.

  "H-hhhere... f-ffood," she stammered, thrusting it toward me.

  My body reacted on its own. I reached out and steadied the plate before her trembling hands could dump the meal onto the floor.

  "Ah. Thank you, I guess?"

  I took the food and set it on the nightstand. Then, without another word, I shut the door in her face, wanting to be left alone.

  I sat on the mattress and looked at the meal. Mushroom soup and steak. It looked decent, but there was a problem.

  There were no utensils.

  I grumbled, covering the dish to keep it warm, and fell onto the bed. My eyes automatically drifted to the desk, to the spot where that vial of poison once sat.

  I threw my arm over my face, trying to block out the world as I felt tired. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to forget the choice I almost made.

  Grumble.

  I shot up, sighing in frustration. I walked to the door and slowly pulled it open, intending to find a fork myself. To my surprise, the maid was still standing right there, holding a fork and spoon in her hands.

  Did she know I would come back out?

  "Were you standing here the whole time?" I asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

  She nodded nervously, but then she did something unexpected. She shakily stepped into my room without asking for permission.

  "Hey, what are you..." I started to protest, but she ignored me, walking straight to the nightstand to inspect the meal.

  "Y-you... h-haven't t-touched it," she stuttered, her expression crumbling into disappointment.

  "I didn't have a spoon," I replied dryly as I shut the door.

  Her anxiety seemed to spike. Her hands fluttered between me and the food before she snatched up the plate. She dipped the spoon into the congealed, cold mushroom soup.

  Suddenly, a faint orange glow enveloped her fingers. I watched the magic at work as she eagerly lifted the spoon to my lips.

  I hesitated. I looked at the spoon, then up at her determined eyes.

  I opened my mouth and let her feed me. The soup, which should have been cold by now, was perfectly warm.

  She pulled the spoon away, her face lighting up with a massive, beaming smile. The nervous fidgeting that had plagued her just moments ago vanished completely. She gently urged me to sit down on the bed.

  My instincts usually kept me on guard, but without thinking, I simply obeyed her.

  I sat there, compliant, as she continued to spoon-feed me with a gentle rhythm. Watching her focus and the warmth radiating from her,

  I studied her closely as I ate. From her speech patterns to her erratic movements, her mannerisms were definitely not normal. There was something distinctly different about her.

  Then I finally realized something.

  This girl... she is very special.