9 Who am I to You? (1)

The next day arrived and it wasn't different from any other day in Elisium. 373 and the other students had their lectures, ate their meals like normal, and spent their afternoons as they usually did. When it was time for them to leave, all the students filtered out of their classroom while 373 stayed behind like always.

The teachers found nothing suspicious. They didn't know that the little girl with brown hair was meeting someone who she shouldn't meet. She had grown fond of the youth named Michael, and that in the last few days she had trusted him – believed that he was different from the lying adults in Elisium.

Everytime 373 thought about the boy with colorful eyes, she would feel a piercing pain in her chest that just wouldn't disappear. The little girl felt betrayed yet a part of her wanted to drop her defenses and give Michael another chance. However, she lived in a place that was infested with death. The only thing that was waiting for her and the other children in Elisium was death. A mistake was equivalent to pushing the fast-forward button to the hell-hole that lied beyond the thick white walls.

Could she afford to give Michael a second chance? Or would it be a mistake?

The sound of footsteps brought 373 back to reality. The youth with amber-colored hair entered the room silently before closing the door shut behind him. He wordlessly took a chair from the desk in front of hers and turned it around so that he could face her. His eyes were filled with pleading. And although he hadn't said a word, his mind was filled with thoughts of making it up to her and making her trust him again.

The little girl felt her chest grow heavy. In the last few days, Michael Caelum was her haven. Now, she had no idea what he was supposed to be in her life. She pursed her lips and slowly spoke. "Don't… lie to me."

"Ask your questions and read my thoughts." He offered his hand to her as his brightly lit eyes met her deep black orbs. "This way, you'll know that I'm not lying."

373 took his hand and realized that his hand was bigger than hers. She could barely wrap her hand around three of Michael's fingers. The female looked at the male seated in front of her, her lips forming a small frown. "Who are you and where did you come from?"

"I never lied about my name," Michael began. "But you're right: I'm not from Elisium."

She stared at his multi-colored irises as his memories flowed into her mind. 373 saw a woman wearing a white laboratory coat that contrasted with fiery amber hair that was so like her son. There were books, other adults, little children who Michael called friends. In his thoughts, the little female could see people of different skin tones and different backgrounds filtering in and out a collection of buildings that was built on the edge of a forest underneath an infinite blue sky. A finely-crafted gate with golden letters enclosed the buildings from all sides. There were teachers in silken garments, cannons and remnants of a war. It was a place that painted a mesmerizing picture – one Michael had seemed to see a thousand times before.

"Luminae Academy?" 373 whispered as she recalled the words she had seen from his memories.

"It's a school in Myron and it's the oldest school that teaches Alchemy and Magic," the young man in front of her explained. "I was a student under the College of Alchemy and Mystics. That's why I know complicated spells not taught in Elisium."

The girl with brown hair nodded before asking her second question, "Why are you here?"

Michael's lips pursed. His thoughts were jumbled, like he didn't know where to start. There was a girl in a tube that was suspended in a liquid substance, but that was soon replaced by a man that had blood-red hair and tangerine-colored eyes. 373 saw a bulletin posting about an internship position, a recommendation letter, his back among the dozens of researchers in Elisium. These were all small bits of pieces – random fragments that left out the truth. She didn't understand what Michael was trying to make her see. But she knew that he was trying to hide something very important from her.

"Why me?" She inquired. "Why did you approach me?"

373 felt the male's hand twitch in her grasp. She also felt a spell come to life around him, as he was intentionally keeping her out of his head. He looked away and as he spoke, his words came out slowly like he was carefully choosing what he was going to say to her. "Because you're special. You have something they want – something they shouldn't have."

"That's not all, is it?" she murmured. Her black eyes stayed glued to his face. Her voice started small. But with each word, her voice became stronger. "You knew what my Talent was. You know why they want me here. You..."

Her voice quivered. "You knew me..."

His eyebrows were scrunched as he closed his eyes. A hint of pain flashed on his face, marring his handsome features. Michael tried to pull his hand away from 373's grasp. But the little girl tightened her grip, refusing to let go.

She wanted to break his walls. She wanted to gnaw at his defenses and make an opening that was big enough for her to see his soul - to see the truth. And so she asked again, with the intention of breaking through his spell and figuring out the truth once and for all.

"Who am I?" she asked.

"Who am I to you?"

373 felt something break. In a split second, she was surrounded by a blue sky that hung above a field that stretched towards the horizon. Birds were chirping. A refreshing wind caressed her face. A little girl with jet black eyes basked under the light of the sun. 373 felt warmth in her hand and saw that she was holding on to a hand smaller than hers. But the sun was soon replaced with emptiness. The sky disappeared and was replaced by the boring white walls the girl had lived with all her life. The room was quiet. The air was heavy. The warmth she had felt was gone.

Michael had freed his hand from her grasp. His beautiful eyes were wide open. His lips were slightly agape. His hands were trembling, as were his shoulders. From the ends of his amber hair to the tips of his toes, he looked haunted by the beautiful memory.

The youth didn't give her another moment to ask another question. He didn't give her a second to react. Sparks danced around his body as he disappeared from her sight with a quickly cast Adicio. But unlike the usual 373, she didn't give chase. She didn't feed her curiosity – her gut told her she shouldn't.

The small female could vaguely recall a melodic voice and a single question she had almost forgotten.

'Contentus es vere iustus est, pueri?'

'Are you content with just that, child?'

Was she content with the result she gained? Was she content with how things were right now?

Her lips curved downward. Her hands turned into fists at her sides.

Was she content?

No, she wasn't.