Staring into my bathroom mirror, I smudged a thumb across the darkened skin.

For the third consecutive day, I'd dozed off while studying. Now, soft granuals of pigmented charcoal marred my cheeks like a puckered tattoo.

"Nox erat et toto sidera..." Latin.

"She'veę req ouli a..." Kabralhi.

"It was night and all the stars..." English.

Across my face, all three written translations had become smeared and illegible.

You see, since my arrival, the department had never bothered to keep their distain for me a secret. On the contrary, The Fray had done everything within their power to make my life a living hell.

Even today, my professor had halted me as she dismissed the class.

"Ayra, you don't seem to be as attentive during my lecture as the other students."

Her lipstick-stained teeth flashed with each snarled word.

"That may be the standard with your kind, but you know that The Fray demand excellence. I'm assigning you an out-of-class project, and if you're unable to complete it, I'll be forced to end your retainment here."

And so, while my colleagues spent their weekends in the Sparring Commons or Campus Arboretum, I had been relegated to translating one thousand lines of the Illiad into English and Kabralhi.

Loudly enough for me to hear, a student had whispered, "She's lucky to even receive this much grace" as another boy, a Grifter with coiled silver hair, had snapped his cold eyes in my direction. I'd kept my head low as his black daggers carved into my back.

Though ethnically Fray, Grifters were those born with strange and unsettling features -- red eyes, silver hair, odd markings, and so on. For a long time, they'd been unjustly persecuted by the Uppers. But somehow, even the untouchables of The Fray had elected to spitting at my feet.

The assignment was only a veiled threat after all. Everything was here. Though native-bornes hadn't spoken it for centuries, Kabralhi was the undisputed tongue of The Fray. In that, each task I received stood as an admonishment.

While you're here, you must live like us. Speak like us. Hammer us down your throat until your voice has turned Fray. Foreigners are not welcome.

For these reasons, I mostly tried to stay under the radar in class. I was thorough in completing my schoolwork. In performing well enough.

Just as taught, I made sure to only raise my hand to the questions others knew, even as the Headmaster purposefully overlooked me. And, should she ever dare to call, I was cautious not to overexplain. I was succinct and meek. I never argued when corrected, even as I was given every reason for doing so.

I was careful.

The Elders had always warned me that anything less than perfect would get me killed. And further, that perfection, uncontested perfection, could draw a fate far worse.

"There are many things more terrifying than death..." one Elder used to tremble.

"You won't understand until you've seen it."

There were rumors that the last foreigner brought to The Fray, Ekele Adoro, had ranked #1 in every sector as a first year. Not long after that, a body was found upside-down in The Culpit with its tongue staked to the floor.

And so, over the last few months, I had fought against the feeling of slowly withering away -- hollowing out from the stress of fear and sleep deprivation and tip-toeing. I reminded myself that this was life or death.

They wanted nothing more than to break me. They wanted to use me as the example for my relatives -- a justification to upholding The Severance. To subjugation.

I felt for the necklace hanging from my neck. My fingers rubbed across the intricate grooves, the pear-shaped teardrop thumping softly above my heart.

I brought the fissured grey orb to my lips, closing my eyes as I willed it for strength. When I retracted, an edge snagged on my bottom lip causing bright red blood to wet my chin. I swiped my tongue across the dead skin.

"Keep this with you, Ayra. Let it breathe for you." My mother's voice had cried when she cast her prayer into the odd jewelry.

Let it breathe for you.

I'd always wondered what she meant.

The memories I had of my late mother were few and far between, spread thin between the Elders' fables and the sparce interactions I'd had with her as an infant. Still, I'd decided for myself that her necklace would represent my seedling of hope - what our people called "O'se". It was an ideal I'd tethered myself to in place of fear.

I looked at the smeared blood staining my mother's heirloom before giving myself another once over in the mirror.

_O'se. __O'se. __O'se. _

Though, mostly hidden behind wide frames, the light bruising beneath my eyes was unmistakable. My afro of curly hair was matted and untamed and the rims of my eyes offered a gradient of scarlet. With the state I was in, the painted black marks adorning me looked almost intentional.

I bared my teeth, wondering if I likened the mythical creatures from all those stories I'd been forced to translate. A centaur or Chimaira. Cheiron. Thetis. Leucrocotta. Adze. All the mystical folklore from ancient Anatolia to West Africa._ _ Then, delirious but determined, I grabbed a new piece of charcoal from the desk.

Without so much as cleaning my cheeks, I went back to work. I deciphered the epic metaphors of Achilles and the dark promises of Hera. I worked until the sunlight dimmed at my window, ushering in pools upon pools of glowing moonlight. I worked until my fingers grew numb and my eyes slowly teased shut. By the time my necklace began to throb against my chest, I'd already unknowingly drifted into a world of neverending night.

"Nox erat..." Latin.

"She'veę req..." Kabralhi.

"It was night..." English. ...

_When the blackness enveloped me, it pulsed though space like a heartbeat, thrumming across my being in vibratory waves. _

The world crashed around like a waterfall, gushing and flooding in a tumultuous current. It was alive -- inhaling in sync with the dark, swallowing the silence in a powerful tempest.

And it smelled almost sweet, a heavy sweetness that filled my throat and wet my tongue, overcoming my entire body with the sensation.

_Almost imperceptibly, the darkness nipped at my skin. The feeling was painless, like the soft prick of an insect. An itch. _

_At first, it curled from my fingers and wrists, snaking up each frozen limb. But then, the sparks quickened up my torso, racing between shoulder blades and igniting my nervous system. It wasn't until they reached the cage of my chest, in a grand surge of energy, that the air was forcefully knocked from my lungs. _

_Pressure suddenly gripped at my neck, an unyielding constriction, as I fought desperately for air. The arms of smoke choked me, lapping at my veins with murderous intent, singeing hot coals into my skin. _

_In a panic, I attempted to reach for my throat, desperate to pry away each tendril of darkness. I was terrified to find that my arms remained paralyzed in place. _

Reality set in like a forest fire.

'I'm going to die.'

'I'm going to die.'

'I'm going to die.'

'I'm going to...'

But then, slowly, and then all at once, the pressure and fear wracking me dulled to an all-consuming calm. The waves of night settled, dampening from a roar to the softest ripple, and the darkness trembled into stillness.

At first, there was nothing.

Then, there was only silver...

_Beautiful, silver eyes glowing hypnotically through the black, reflecting through space like a cluster of constellations. _

The eyes watched me carefully, unblinking in the darkness.

_Little by little, the thick sweetness clouding the air transformed, replaced by something natural and coppery. _

"Your fate is sealed_..." A low, gravelly voice thundered. _

_The air rumbled back into a steady thrum, a rhythmic heartbeat, before a sharp crack carved through the quiet. _

In a mosaic of silver, the blackness was shredded by a flood of stars. Like a broken levy, it poured into my vision until nothing remained but white hot blinding light.

Then my eyes fluttered open.

...

_"Y-you...." _

When I awoke, a pair of familar black eyes stared down at me inquisitively.

I searched my memory before finally connecting them to the Grifter from class, a wreath of shocking silver coils and dark bronzed skin. His hair had been braided back into neat cornrows, empasizing the craftsman-like sculpt of his features.

Full lips and high cheekbones. Thick, furrowed eyebrows. Inky black eyes -- widened eyes that were now concentrated on me in horror.

Had he come to kill me?

I realized suddenly that, with my current position, combat was unlikely. My body still felt affected by my dream, slowed and groggy as if I'd been drugged.

So, before the Grifter could pounce, I threw what energy was left in my body against him. After grabbing under the desk for my hunting knife, I held the sharpened metal to the skin of his jawline. Then, with all the strength I could muster, I used my hips to pin him against the countertop.

"Speak!" I growled.

Without so much as fighting back, the Grifter eyed me as if I were the intruder and he'd caught me in his own dwelling.

His lips formed the words as if casting a spell.

"You're...a Feedling."

"A what?"

His eyes continued to search me as if I were a wild animal.

'Don't draw attention...'

The Elders had warned.

'Don't make a scene.'

"You should be making the case for your life, not accusations_, Grifter._"

I raised the knife slowly as I spoke. Holding his stare, I grazed its metal along the hollow of his neck, feathering it at the bow of his adam's apple.

Seemingly unaffected, the Grifter's coal eyes only lifted to meet my own. From this distance, his gaze was almost punishing.

"Ayra..." his softened voice lulled.

He knows my name?

I tightened my grip on the knife's sheath, adjusting my posture. I suppose it's not too surprising he'd studied the foreigner he'd intended to murder in her sleep.

"Ayra...Look.." he murmured, testing each word. His eyes wandered to something over my shoulder.

I noted that he pronounced my name in a dialect uncommon to Fray. The sounds rolled from his lips in a velvety hum.

Surely, this was an attempt to distract me.

"Ayra..." He begged again, "You've got to-"

My curiosity betrayed me as I shifted our bodies to subtlely gaze from my peripheral.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I would see on my bedroom floor.

**_O'se. _****_O'se. O'se.

**The bodies of four Fray, if you could even still call them that, were charred and jumbled across a blackened carpet. Though the figures were badly burnt, the redolence of something sweet masked the stench of smoke and flesh. ** ****"_**W-What? N-no...no..."

I jumped back from the stranger in shock, pushing him away as I scrambled for the open window._ **** _"Ayra, please listen..."

As a large hand found my shoulder, l spun around. The knife extended before me in decided intent to defend myself.

The Grifter jumped back right in the knick of time, narrowly avoiding the tine of my blade.

"You killed them? You intend to do that...to me?" I accused, red flashing through my vision.

He looked at me wearily, "...No."

"You killed them." I repeated loudly, voice raising to a frantic shout.

"Shh...No...No. We don't have much time."

The man lunged forward suddenly, capturing both wrists above me with a strength that seemed immovable. I wondered then if he'd only been entertaining my earlier attempts to pin him down.

"Ayra...listen carefully."

I struggled to no avail, spitting in his face before attempting to kick out his feet.

With another overtly swift movement, his body was pressing me flush against the wall.

"Ayra...I didn't kill them...You did. As you slept."

"You're lying." I gritted.

The shakiness of my voice betrayed me.

The truth was that my body had become a bomb, sparking dangerously with the remnants of my dream. As the world spun around me, I could feel my stomach violently churn.

"I can't...explain all of why I was here. The spell can only cover you for so long. But these Fray... They came to kill you. To strangle you and hang you from the culpit. They almost succeeded."

The Grifter's eyes darted to my chest. I followed his gaze to the remains of my mother's necklace. What was once a vibrant freckled stone had now been scorched to a blackened ember. The familiar jagged edges cracked out of place, hanging limply from its charred string.

"I-I don't...I don't understand..."

"You're a feedling, Ayra. There haven't been Feedlings in centuries. I...I had heard stories about them in Rulan but..."

Rulan? Had he only been masking as Fray?

"You must've unknowingly called to a dragon last night. When they select a feedling, they...they're known to operate based on a specific set of conditions. Do you remember doing anything unusual?"

I looked at him as if he spoke a foreign tongue.

"Okay, so no spell casting...check. We can go over the details later. For now, I'm going to take care of this..."

As he gestured to the splayed carnage, another shiver raked through me.

"You should go to the Greenhouse. Ask for Baba Lain and they will help you with your cover. If an Upper were to see this...to know what you are..."

His impossibly black eyes seemed to darken further.

"Not only will they kill you...they'll decimate your entire race for daring to breed a Feedling. Ayra...even if you don't believe me, do not tell anyone about this."

At this, he let go of my wrists, causing me to stagger back against the softness of my bed. My body had become a cluttered heap of emotions. A shadow of flames still lapping at the inside of my skin. Powerful waves of nausea. Fear. Red, hot, crippling fear. A heartbeat that threatened to jump from my chest at any second.

"If...If what you're saying is true....If I did this..."

I played anxiously with the tail of my dagger.

"Why are you helping me? Why should I trust you?"

_O'se. O'se. O'se. _ The Grifter's eyes fell quickly to the floor. He pressed a hand into taut silver curls before bringing a knuckle to his chin.

"Did it tell you its name?" He wondered, evading the question.

"Who? Did who tell me?"

"Nox..." A powerful voice exploded, rumbling from deep and vibrating into my fingers.

"How did you do that?" I asked pointedly, eyes wide at the Grifter's sinister change in tone.

"I didn't...I didn't say anything."

"Liar."

Before he could reply, I jetted from the bed to my bathroom, stumbling frantically before vomiting the contents of my stomach into the pot.

He watched me incredulously.

"Your dragon...it can still speak to you? During the day?"

After wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I lurched for the sink.

In the mirror, the bags of my eyes had softened. My cracked lips had healed and my skin appeared healthier, almost as if I'd had a good night's rest the last few months. My charred heirloom hung by a thread and the black smear of written charcoal still muddied my cheeks. I realized that only one word remained clear across the dark, freckled skin.

"Nox..." The voice repeated "Call me Nox. Feedling, we're going to have so much fun."

And its voice was like a smile from the abyss.

"Oh, you're back again," The darkness crooned.

The smile in its voice was palpable,

"How long have you come to play?"

Vidya's arms outstretched before her as she stumbled into the blackness -- feeling for the walls of the familiar inky coridor.

Almost instantaneously, pools of light flooded around her, illuminating the thick muddy walls and swamp-like paths. Everything she touched began to glow.

"What a brave child..." that voice mused, "If you need help with something you should ask, girl. It worries me. Humans usually have no problem with asking things of me."

With the newfound light, Vidya's eyes raised to the far wall where one could fully swallow that brutal image of Death. Its massive frame was perched, like usual, in a throne of blackened branches. Wispy shadows hummed from its very being, swirling and murmuring in soulless encantations. Its shoulders sunk into a boney slouch, adorned from forearm to neck with long dark feathers and a crust of opal crystals. Its eyes were glassy and its head hung heavily from the weight of a spikey ebony crown.

Vidya ran to the figure. Fearlessly, she raised her hands above her, a routine she'd come to develop. Compared to Death, the young girl was smaller than a thimble.

"Brave..." Death tutted again with a chuckle before outstretching a long spiny hand. Vidya hopped into the hand's palm then stumbled back into a criss cross position as Death raised the surface to its face.

"You haven't got much time left, little one."

It murmured once eye to eye with the child.

Vidya played with the black cavernous trenches of Death's palm absent-mindedly.

"I fear you'd be better off with me than those monsters who claim to rear you. I would certainly be more merciful than that hell you come from."

Death searched the child's exposed chin.

Vidya's tiny arms were marked in dark mosaics of blue and purple -- green-yellow blotching around perimeters of the bruises that had already begun healing. Her white eyes stared emptily for all that she could not see and her small ears had swollen shut, promising her nothing but the weary whispers of Death.

"If you must always insist on going back you should at least run away. Lest you find people who will treat a child properly. If these demons loved you they'd stop enlisting me as your sitter. You don't understand how tempting it is to spare you that life -- I've really grown fond of seeing you."

At this, little Vidya's face broke out into a spontaneous smile -- full and toothy. Her hands raised once again from her sides to above her head.

Death shook its head and sighed before bringing the girl to its cheek so she could stand and embrace its fishered hollows. Then it lowered the hand to bestow a kiss on the hair of her head, already matted with mud and leaves.

"I have the power to rid of those people if you ever commanded it of me. Again, you should learn to use your bravery more selfishly. I hope you are heeding my lessons in these meetings we have little one."

Vidya had returned to her distracted playing.

"I've taken your pain away for now, but once you're back, it will be as overwhelming as the last time. I shouldn't tell you this but you're so stubborn so I'll help you. This time when you awake, you'll be in your playpen. Feel your way out of the room and two doors to the left is your home's garden entrance. Wander out soon after you awake -- those monsters left that door unlocked today. Your new neighbor will see you and sense something is wrong -- she will help you."

Vidya shook her head absent-mindedly.

"Oh dear, don't be stupid, you should listen to me."

Death raised the hand again.

"You'll be going any minute now...promise me you'll do as I say. This is the only way if you won't stay here with me."

Death watched Vidya carefully, relieved when she finally gave a comprehensible nod.

"Goodbye little one. I hope the next time I see you is after you've lived a long and happy life. My favorite little child."

And then she was gone, and the blackness returned to its craft of handling the infinite matters of the dark.

The yellowness leaked into the corners of the crypt, signaling that it was Above day.

I stretched myself in preparation, giddy with possibility.

Perhaps today would be the day.

Perhaps I wouldn't be alone anymore.

3...

2...

1...

I lurched my body into yellow, pushing up and against the sand as it flooded around me. There was a slight resistance before the sudden break, and then I was swallowed whole.

The hotness. The dryness. The expanse of yellow.

This was Above.

It was always a task to make the trek -- risky to say the least.

Above was Eden.

Too full of everything and nothing that predator's camouflage seemed sweet, a kindred soul rushing forward.

A yellow mirage.

I waited for you I walked for miles with worn ankles and shoulders burnt from the sun's gravelly rays I waded in the shallowest grave of discernment I struck matches against my fingernails and drowned in solitude I waited for you

pretending to be lighter than I am more gawdy more willing pretending to know love like tendrils of muscle the tempered underbelly pretending to have feeling I waited for you

When everything had gone grey from waiting When the color bursted back into vermillion When the world ended and nothing was left When grass became chemical I'd waited for you

Eyes blinded against the heat And his lips promising me a tangible forever I ran I waited I waited so long that it burned so long that even after my mind diminished this body remembered to wait to find you to reach for you even if your hand extended from another liftime I waited I waited for you