My eyes open slowly from a dreamless sleep, the light bringing my vision into focus. Mom has already left the room, while Rose lays beside me, sleeping on her side, her stretched apart legs visible as bumps in the crumpled blankets.

I sit up, focusing my mind just below my heart, where the energy of my mana pool ought to be. But I still find nothing. Is my illness permanent? Was the dream of Kenneth sifting through my mind just an illusion of false hope?

I cope and get out of bed. On the dining table, there is some cooked fish and fruit. At the back of the room, the elderly couple sleeps in chairs by the fire. I eat some fish and fruit for breakfast. Then, my mother walks in through the front door. She tells me good morning, orders me to look after Rose while she scouts for remaining monsters, then leaves.

Rose wakes up shortly after. She eats some breakfast, then stares longingly at the door. I try to distract her by starting a sightspotting game, giving her hints on objects in the kitchen and outside the window. But Rose cannot stand still, and grows impatient of making incorrect guesses.

"Rose, what do you want to do?"

Rose walks slowly and awkwardly in a squiggly line. She is unusually restless.

"I want to... climb a tree."

"You cannot leave the house right now. It is too dangerous."

"I KNOW. It is morning. I am not THAT stupid."

"You look like you are about to make a run for the door."

"I am NOT. I am going to work out."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Rose falls forward onto her hands and starts doing push-ups. In other words, exercise. I am disturbed by her level of energy this early in the morning. At the same time, she seems to have found a way to occupy herself. If she is so self-sufficient all of a sudden, why should I bother looking after her? I would rather go do something else.

"Are you going to keep doing that until Mom comes back?"

Rose says something unintelligible, which I interpet as a 'yes'. So, I discharge my role as Rose's bodyguard, and return to the solace of the bedroom.

I sift through the crates, deciding which book to to read. I select a book on the political history of the eleventh dynasty of Cantor. I adjust a pillow on the bed, and sit down. I sigh. Peace at last. I open the cover of the book, letting my eyes sink into the words.

Then, my entire body shudders as I hear loud and awful screams coming from the foyer.

I drop the book and sprint outside the bedroom. The three demon children are screaming and running through the house, and Rose has joined them. The elderly couple has sat up in their chairs, no doubt awoken by their behavior. The lone parent stands in front of the other bedroom door uselessly, meekly scolding their behavior.

The screaming and stomping of Rose and the other children pierces my ears and rattles my skull. I feel a deep rage boil within me. I step outside of the bedroom. I refuse to stand idly by as these spoiled brats rip away my solitude.

I command my mind to break through the barrier separating my mana pool from my body, and pull hard. I feel pain in my hands, my arms, my legs. Horrible, piercing, unintelligible pain.

But then the energy starts to flow within me. It is generous. It is enough to kill.

I begin to focus a lethal lightning spell into my hands. This is a crucial moment, worthy of my pain. I do not care if I injure myself, if in the end it brings me satisfaction. I could kill them all...

But death will not teach them a lesson.

With the return of magic comes the return of my inner voice of reason. I assess the situation. The screaming, stampeding children have so far refused to acknowledge my presence. The incompetent adult is unarmed, but I do not want to risk becoming defenseless against them. I will only punish one child. It will be sufficient, if the terror inflicted is deep enough. And they will serve as an example for the others.

I look to Rose, as she screams and spins and smiles spitefully. The child who was shy and meek, but then adopted the chaos to terrorize me. The child who insists she is not my sister, yet has a name so similar to my own. The child who pretends to be stupid, but then turns around and psychoanalyses my father as if she has known him her whole life. How deceptive and two-faced she is! What other secrets are you hiding from me, Rose?

I coalesce my energy into a ball upon my tongue, and focus my will upon her screaming face. My mind, idle in magic for so long, converges quickly upon the word with singular rage.

My voice booms, echoing through the house far louder than any child could counter.

"SILENCE!"

The burst of energy leaves my body. The voidfire lesions deepen in my hands, my arms, my legs. The pain is almost unbearable. But I plaster away my grimace and replace it with a proud smile, as I watch Rose collapse on the ground and look up to me with horror.

I walk closer to her so I can witness her suffering more clearly. The mouth of Rose opens and closes stiffly like the mouth of a stranded, gasping fish, as every scream, utterance, and grunt she attempts is deprived of sound, and her lips and tongue likewise refuse to move, making it impossible to discern any meaning from her face. And her legs, once so effective at making stomping sounds, now lie stiffly upon the ground. I am especially proud of that part. Usually, the spell only works on the voice.

Rose then claws at her throat with her hands, trying in vain to scrape away the intangible spell which now affects her.

I step my shoe upon Rose's hands to stop them moving, so that I can look clearly into her face.

"Tell me, Rose, how did it feel to think you were the only daughter? Were you an obedient, happy child? Or a rule-breaking, cynical one? Just kidding! I do not need to know the answers! Because I already know what they are."

The three other kids say "ooo" and giggle to themselves. They have huddled on the other side of Rose, so mystified by the terror I have inflicted upon Rose, that they have stopped stampeding. So, you children think this is a spectator sport? Fine. You watching is all the better to observe the lesson.

I prepare to pick apart Rose's ego. "I know a lot more about you than you think, Rose. I know your last name is Matterhelm. I know you are much smarter than you pretend you are..."

My mother crashes open the front door and runs toward me.

She shouts, "What are you doing?!?"

I smile. Perfect timing. "Do not step closer, or I will kill her."

My mother's feet freeze onto the floor, and she looks at me with agony.

"I know that look. That is a look of a mother who is afraid for her daughter's life. Is Rose your daughter? Do not lie to me."

My mother pleads, "What terrible evil have you brought upon us, my child? What demonic spirit has compelled you... or magic, perhaps... such that you could kill Rose, the child you slept with, and not think twice of it? Yes, it is true. Rose is your sister. Please do not torture me in this way, for this lie I have told you."

"Why did you hide the truth from me?" I snap.

My mother flinches. "I was afraid you would leave me again, if you thought I had replaced you."

"I already told you the reason I came here! You knew I was not homesick. Tell me the real reason."

"That is the real and only reason. I swear by it." My mother hesitates. "Perhaps I have been irrational," she repents. "I do not even remember the reason you gave me for your return. My mind may have filled in some gaps. But that is of no consequence compared to the very fate of my younger daughter that you now hold in your hands. Please, Iris. Let your sister go."

No. I will not. Especially because you asked. Rose is my only leverage. And I like her under my foot.

"When did Rose spawn?"

"Three years ago."

"Why did she spawn?"

"She was a product of me and your father's love."

"Do you still love each other?"

"Of course we do."

"Do not lie to me!" I yell.

My mother flinches again.

"Well... if I'm honest, I wish we could have spent more time together. But with the war going on, and all that, it can't be helped."

I sigh, feeling unsatisfied. I sense the energy left inside me. It will last a few minutes. My mother is still hiding how she really feels. She distrusts me. And Rose is still a stranger to me. I want the truth. But this questioning is getting nowhere.

And I do not want just the truth. I want solitude. I want to be free of the chaos of humans which behave like animals. I want to have a room, just for myself, at all hours of the day. And I want adults to stop patronizing me and start treating me with respect. All these things I could demand for myself, if only I had enough magic. But I am too weak.

I cut off the flow of my magic which sustains the Silence spell I placed upon Rose. She should have learned her lesson by now. And I need to preserve what remains of my body.

I look down at the damage, and see the silver lesions glowing brightly on my arms and through my clothes.

------------

The next day, my mother brings me behind the house to speak with me privately. She lectures to me on the importance of controlling my emotions. Then she starts talking about my magic.

"Iris, I do not know what motivates you to use magic in this way. Those glowing white webs which grow upon your skin... they are from a disease, a parasite. I do not know how else to explain it. But it is clearly slowly killing you, each time you try to use its power. And it seems to also be corrupting your mind. Such magic has no place in humanity. It is dark magic. I am not certain I can convince you to stop using it. There is a large part of your life which is hidden from me now. And I really, really wish you would tell me about it. But since that's not going to happen, I merely ask that you keep your dark magic a secret. Not for my safety, but for yours. Can you promise to me that you will do that?"

I nod reluctantly. Never have I felt so misunderstood and insulted, that my mother has mistaken this horrible illness as my magic. But there is truth in her words. Her irrational fear is the truth I wanted, the true sign of the disdain she really feels for me. Her disdain is a warning of how others in this town will perceive me. They will feel a fear and hatred, free of the tempering of a mother's love. I will never belong here.

And, after I have threatened to kill Rose, I do not think my mother will ever treat me the same.

I am alive and safe, for now. But the road forward is clear. I must exile myself on my own terms.

A few nights later, my strength recovered, I lay awake in bed, waiting for my mother and Rose to fall asleep. Then I slowly lean out of bed. I tiptoe across the room, and take a sword, sheath, satchel, and leather armor from the crates.

I equip myself slowly and quietly, and grip my sword tightly. I tiptoe to the bedroom door, and turn the knob. The hinge of the door creaks. I pause and look behind me. Mother and Rose are still asleep in bed.

I continue opening the door very slowly. I step across the large front room, unlock the front door, walk around to the eastern side of the building, and begin my exile.

As I walk through the stumps and into the forest, I see a familiar, grey-robed figure, leaning against a distant tree. His hood is down, his face illuminated by the moonlight, revealing a stern and concerned Kenneth Forthright.

I walk up to him. His presence so close to my house is an unsettling coincidence, but also a relief.

"Master, I did not expect to see you here."

"I was worried you wouldn't come out," Kenneth says. "Sarah was getting close to turning you into a skeleton. She was convinced you had given up your apprenticeship, and that somehow your soul was free for the taking like one of those animated corpses she fishes out of the earth, and had a necromancer bureaucracy to back her up. Ridiculous, I know."

He pushes himself upright from the tree.

"I'm sorry I couldn't just take you back. Standing and waiting was part of the bureaucratic agreement. You're lucky to be alive right now."

"I am sorry, master. I promise I will not run away again."

"Running away wasn't even the half of it," Kenneth argues. "That Silence spell you cast a few days ago was incredibly reckless. Not only were you sick, but the spell itself is forbidden and should never be cast."

"Why not? I just wanted some kids to shut up."

"That makes it even worse!" Kenneth sighs with disdain. "Look, I don't expect you to understand since you're still a young apprentice. Just promise me you will never cast it again."

"I promise."

"Good." Kenneth leans back against the tree, and says no more.

"Are you still going to take me back?" I ask.

Kenneth mocks me, "I don't know, Iris, am I?"

"I still want to be a void mage."

Kenneth stares down at me with cynicism. "Then prove it."

I can feel the pressure from my master's call to allegiance. I think back to my parents. My father is either dead or missing. My mother no longer trusts me. I was a fool to think she wanted me back. She distrusted me, even before I learned magic.

My master, on the other hand, has earned my trust. The knowledge he has given me has made me what I am. He respects me. His rules and punishments have gravity to them. They have shaped me and brought me closer to my ambitions. Thanks to him, I see the world now as it truly is: a world of mostly automatons, capable of intelligence, but missing an unspeakable truth. I understand now why I always felt like I did not belong.

I drop onto my knees and bow my head.

"Master, please take me back," I tell him. "I promise I will never run away from you again. I want to be your apprentice again. I want to become a void mage. I will even expose myself to the deep void, if that is what you think is best."

Kenneth kneels down and places his hand on my shoulder.

"Nothing would please me more," he says, "than for you to be my apprentice again. But with these wounds you have, it will take time before you are ready for the void again.

Kenneth lifts his hand from my shoulder with mercy. He offers his hand to me, and I use it to pull myself up.

We walk through the forest, until Sarah, dressed in her brown robe, stands before us.

"She wants to continue her apprenticeship," Kenneth says.

Sarah looks at me and smirks. "I thought so."

Sarah closes her eyes and furrows her brow in concentration. A moment later, she opens her eyes, nods to us, and holds out one hand to each of us.

I take Sarah's hand. Red sparks rise up from the ground and swarm around us in increasing numbers, until all I can see is red light. My body lightens, and then the red sparks dissipate. We are in front of Kenneth's house.

Sarah lets go of Kenneth's hand and says, "I need to talk to Iris alone for a bit. Bureaucracy: you know how it is. The undead army recruiters gotta have stuff on the record."

"Of course, I understand," Kenneth says.

Then, Sarah teleports me again with a swarm of red sparks.

------------

I scream and throw the unfinished book against the shelf.

How could Iris be so stupid?

As the book falls to the floor, it disturbs a pile of pages into the air. One of the pages flies upward and sticks to my arm. I tear it off. I skim the page. It is from one of her study sessions. I throw it aside.

I mean, seriously, what kind of person becomes someone's apprentice, gets tortured because of it, and then COMES BACK FOR MORE?

The book lays backside-up on the ground, refusing to answer the question for me.

I get it. Iris wants knowledge and power. And Kenneth understands her better than anyone else.

But that's because he reads her mind, and then tells her exactly what she wants to hear. He convinces Iris that he's just like her. That the world is so corrupt and broken that she shouldn't feel bad about breaking its arbitrary rules. And that he, who, unlike anyone else, exists outside of this tyrannical world, knows how to make her dreams real.

It is a fantasy, an ideal so high that it can't be reached no matter how far you climb. A fantasy supported by a mountain of lies and false promises so high, that your mind becomes so twisted, that up becomes down, and evil becomes good, and you forget how to climb back down again.

No amount of magical power is worth sacrificing one's soul in this way.

Even if the anti-aging effects of magic have trapped you in the mind of a child, wouldn't you realize at this point that this whole ordeal is too good to be true?

I bend over and pick up the book I threw, and turn it upright. A few pages have stuck to its cover, presenting themselves to me.

I peel the first orphaned page off of the cover and begin to read it. Out of the corners of my eyes, I see the torn fragments at the edges of the page fuse together. The faded flint script beneath my eyes becomes thicker and darker, making it easier to read.

This is from Iris' conversation with Sarah after her return. It belongs next.

I peel off each page from the cover and read it. They are all from the same moment. Most of the words describe Iris recounting to Sarah her experience being away from Kenneth for the past few weeks, how surreal it was to return to her childhood home, yet painful to endure a life without magic. I skim it quickly. The details are already familiar to me.

Iris learned nothing from her experience. She was too deluded, too invested into her years of study. But I can't help but wonder if she could have learned something, if only she stayed with her family a little longer.

I just wish I could go back in time, far away across the other side of the Farland Rifts. I wish I could be in the room with her, like Sarah, and talk some sense into her.

As Iris recounts her story to Sarah, Sarah's guilt and worry can't help but spill out onto her face, in spite of her divine assignment. Sarah really does want Iris to be happy.

Maybe she feels powerless, just like I do. But she opens her mouth, figuring it's worth a try.

"I don't think you understand how lucky you are, to see your parents again," Sarah tells Iris. "My real parents were both killed by miners when I was very young. Then I was adopted by them. I was furious when I found out the truth. It's sort of the reason why I'm a necromancer."

Sarah pulls her head back, reflecting sentimentally. "I used to be a very different person, back then, when I was a Level 1. I was a cold-blooded killer that would do whatever I was told. My hatred for miners was fresh, and I was full of passion after learning the Word of Herobrine and his plans for the world.

"I've changed since then. Now, I think critically about the cause I am part of. Like, yea, there's a lot of death and destruction sometimes, but there's a lot more to it than that, like the dimensional research I'm doing with Kenneth and Miner, for example. And it's not for its own sake, it's because we're trying to preserve nature, and humanity has sinned and stuff.

"Which brings me back to you." Sarah looks down at Iris and smirks. "Up until recently, you have been an obedient apprentice of Mage Forthright, doing everything he has told you. But are you certain now that's the right thing?"

At this point, I can feel Iris considering Sarah's words for a moment, but then she rejects them, and doubles down on her delusions. I throw these pages onto the ground, leaving them to rot. I do not want to embody this darkness.