Chapter One: Haven’t You Heard? 

She was moving. She could feel the gentle bumps of the old road below her as the vehicle she was in moved quickly. It shook, moving from side to side and slowly rocking her back into reality.

Rose blearily opened her eyes, and then jolted. Pain greeted her coldly and her entire body ached. She was wrapped in a large, thin blanket, the world was too bright for her and filled with dots for several seconds.

"Daddy… she's awake!" chirped a happy voice right next to her, although Rose was only able to make out part of what was said.

When her vision cleared, Rose noticed that she was in the backseat of a car. Her tail rested on her lap, and her wings were curled up and tucked behind her. The tips of them smashed awkwardly against the ceiling, and she instantly felt discomfort with them so tightly squeezed together. Because of their bulkiness, Rose was also precariously balanced on the edge of her seat.

Slowly, she turned her head to find a young girl seated next to her with untamed, wild, dark hair, deep brown skin, and sparkling green eyes. The girl beamed at Rose with such unrivaled joy and fascination that she couldn't bring herself to look any longer than necessary. It was such a stark contrast to the reception Rose had previously received that it was unnerving.

"Well, that's good," rumbled a deep voice in front.

Rose dragged her eyes warily toward the older man who was driving the SUV. He was a mirror image of the young girl, although his eyes were the warm color of chestnuts. He caught her gaze in the mirror and Rose saw the corners of his own crinkle as he smiled.

"You know, young girls like you shouldn't be sleeping on the side of the highway."

Why are you not running away from me, or chasing me? Rose wondered. He must have seen her tail and her wings. He must have noticed how her nails had lengthened and sharpened into black claws. He had to have seen the unnatural red glow in her eyes.

"So, where's your home, little lady?" he asked. "I���ll take you there."

Rose immediately felt a gripping fear take hold of her at the mention of going back to that place. Her hands clenched tightly into fists and her face twisted, her bottom lip quivering.

The man didn't seem to notice and continued, "Although, I was on my way to the police station with you, if you would prefer I take you there. Little lady like you shouldn't be out on her own."

"Wh-which police station?" The question barely managed to crawl painfully out of Rose, but she pressed on, "I-I mean… which town?"

"Harrington, of course!"

The small girl giggled and exclaimed with a wide smile, "That's where we live! We just came back from visiting Baba 'n Papa."

The girl started to chatter merrily about her grandparents with Rose only vaguely listening. The runaway child's mind was elsewhere, her thoughts rapidly filtering through her options.

Two towns over, and away from her hometown. The fear slowly drained away, as an overwhelming sense of relief wrapped itself around her like a warm blanket. However, the idea of being near any other adult with a gun… no, near anyone with some form of weapon was not a pleasant one. The adrenaline and terror returned as quickly as it came, causing her to stiffen and shift closer toward the car door. She tried to keep her composure even as to not give anything away, but it was a struggle.

"Here," Rose managed, her voice cracking like splintering ice. "Please, drop me off here."

The man's eyes widened, and he looked ready to protest, however, an unreadable look replaced the spark in his eyes. It was almost as if his questions and concerns were quelled by a veil of fog as he watched her, staring at her as if through a wall of mist. The hazy glaze in his eyes was profoundly disturbing to see. His entire posture slackened for a moment before seemingly returning to normal.

He smiled at her, his eyes still clouded. The man didn't even seem to be looking at Rose anymore, but rather, through her.

"Right away, little lady."

The man pulled up over on the side of the road and Rose scrambled to get out of the car. She stumbled but didn't hesitate. Once she was out of the car, the man pulled back onto the road and drove on without a second's hesitation. She watched the car drive off into the distance, a subtle tremor in her legs made her hesitate walking away. Her mind screamed at her to keep moving—to crawl away if she had to—but her body vehemently protested as exhaustion heavily seeped into her bones.

Now where to?

There wasn't really any place that came to mind for the girl. All her life, she had grown up in the small, hidden-away town of Sherry. It was a quiet, warm, and hearty town that was Rose's very definition of normal. It was where everyone knew everyone. It was the kind of place where you could walk over to your neighbors and join them for a pleasant dinner, the kind where the elderly liked to sit out on porches and tell stories to all who would listen. The kind of place that Rose always thought was safe.

She never, ever expected that those once kind people could turn so cruel and violent on her in a second.

It was supposed to have been a lovely birthday. They were going to go out for lunch after Church. Upon the end of mass, when everyone from the town was let out and mingled about, it happened, though.

Rose was on fire.

Not visibly, but on the inside. Every inch of her was filled with hot lava that rushed through her veins. She cried out and collapsed to the ground, screaming and squirming as the pain seared through her senses like white fire purging her blood. The adults had rushed over to her along with several children, all watching with wild eyes as the young girl before them convulsed like prey to possession.

Within a few grueling seconds that stretched on into hours in Rose's mind, the pain was gone… and a tail, claws, horns, and wings emerged instead.

There was dead silence in the Churchyard. A horrible, bone-chilling silence that ate away at Rose as she shakily stood up and examined what had become of her.

She wasn't sure what happened next, it was all a blur to her. One of the women screamed and fainted, children cried out, and then chaos unfolded. Before she knew it, Rose was sprinting away from the mob that had formed, scarcely escaping with her life.

Even now, after having had time to calm down, she couldn't believe it.

Was she a demon? A possessed child? A monster?

Or was she something else?

She didn't know. She desperately, oh, so desperately, wanted to, though. She needed to know why and what was exactly happening to her. But how?

Though more importantly, what did she do now?

The girl had nowhere to go. She knew no one outside of her town, and given their reaction to her appearance, she wouldn't even dare to return there. She could already hear the shotguns firing at her again, but this time she would be close enough they wouldn't miss.

Unintentionally, Rose wrapped her arms around herself and her wings stretched out. She was tired, hungry... and at an utter loss for what to do.

That man and his daughter didn't seem to mind my appearance. Maybe… maybe there are others who won't, too? Maybe… maybe I can… I can find them, and—

A stab of anxiety dug into her at the thought of encountering another person.

She couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to even consider going into another town and risk being caught and hunted down again. Rose slowly lowered to the ground and curled up on herself.

I hate this. I hate this tail. I hate these claws. I hate these stupid wings!

Rose glared hatefully at her claws, tears pricking her eyes and fear making her stomach churn. As the disgust and hatred became so overwhelming, she dug those hideous claws into her disgusting wings. She ripped at them, shredding the thin flesh, blood gushing out as she continued in her crazed quest to rid herself of them.

If I didn't have these, I could go home! Rose thought to herself in panic.

The pain made her stomach heave and she shuddered violently. She looked in horror at what she had done to her wings as cold tears streamed down her face… a half-choked sob escaped her. She lowered her bloodied hands into her lap, bowing her head from the weight of her entire world crumbling around her.

Rose wasn't certain how long she stayed there for, her mind refusing to get over the fact that her entire hometown tried to hunt her down like a rabid dog, and that only seconds ago, she tried to rip off her own wings. Her mind couldn't even process the reality that she had wings.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, the sun was starting to set behind her. The sudden smell of mint and tea leaves entered her nostrils, and Rose's head snapped up from resting on her knees.

In front of her, peering down at her, was a gentleman…

Or so was her first thought.

He was dressed neatly in a dark suit that reminded Rose of a butler on one of those fancy shows on the television she used to watch. His coat tails waved in the breeze, and he had on a bright red scarf that was tucked into his white shirt. He was taller than any man Rose had ever seen, and—oddly enough—he wore a pitch-black cloak with the hood up, the cloak cascading down to the small of his back.

His expression was unreadable because a large white mask covered his entire face. There was a permanent, rather disturbing smile engraved in it, and two large black slits where the eyes should be, although Rose was uncertain if there were any real eyes behind it at all.

The gentleman reached out a white, gloved hand to Rose. "My dear, your wings are in tatters. Such pretty things should be treated with care."

Rose's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. Her cheeks flushed, and she felt nervous around the man. Part of her was desperate to flee, but the pain she felt in her legs and wings reminded her that her chances of escaping were—at best—slim.

When it was apparent to the man that Rose would not take his hand, he retracted it and rummaged through his coat pocket instead. With ease, he pulled out a small, glowing blue vial along with a white handkerchief. He popped it open and dabbed some of the goo onto the handkerchief.

The stranger then knelt to Rose's level, causing the girl to cringe away from him, a soundless whimper caught in her throat.

"This will heal your injuries, my dear," he said gently, reaching out and grasping her leg. "Although, I can see a fair few have already finished."

Rose eyed him warily as the man wiped the bullet wound at the side of her knee. The ceaseless burning immediately soothed, and she gasped, the man seemingly smiling behind his mask as he watched.

"May I see your wings again, dear girl?" he inquired. Rose couldn't help but notice that he spoke with a subtle English accent.

Can I trust him? Rose wondered, even as she tentatively stretched out a wing towards him.

Maybe it was only hopeful belief on her part to humor him. Maybe some part of her trusted him on instinct... she wasn't entirely certain. All she knew was that the man was kind enough to help her, and his strange medicine was healing her injuries.

He gently wiped some of the goo on her wings and Rose watched, transfixed, as the holes and tears melded themselves whole and the pain slipped away.

He repeated this process with each of her injuries and Rose observed in silence, watching him do this. When all her injuries were healed by the mysterious azure balm, Rose finally seemed to have found her voice.

"Who are you…?" she asked, trembling. "What do you want?"

The man chuckled and raised his left hand, placing it over his heart and bowing. "Pardon me, my dear. You may call me Nigel. I have come to fetch you."

A shiver ran through her. "Am I going to hell?"

He laughed at that, although it came out more forced than the previous chuckle. "No. I do not believe you are, child. Pay no attention to those humans. You are no more a demon than I am."

"A-are you a demon?"

He tilted his head. "Not since I last checked."

Rose's hands clenched into fists. Now that the pain subsided, and she was reasonably confident in her ability to defend herself from the stranger, she mustered some renewed courage and energy, even if it was only meager compared to the chilling fear still inside of her. She swallowed roughly.

"You… you said you were here to fetch me. Y-you sound like you… like you know what's going on. Can you—no—will you tell me?"

He nodded and, slowly, sat down next to her, tucking away the vial and handkerchief. "I will do my best to answer your questions, my dear."

"Why am I like this?" Rose demanded, gesturing towards her monstrous features.

"You turned ten today," he said. "A full decade since you had come into this world. In your particular case, that would mean your magic has begun to awaken. Due to your—ah—upbringing, your magic had previously been sealed away. Though when that seal was broken earlier today, your magic released part of your true form."

"Magic…" Rose repeated, incredulous. "Magic. There is no such thing as magic."

The man pointedly looked down at her tail that rested in her lap. Rose flushed.

"W-well that can be explained some—some other way!"

"Really…" Nigel scoffed, bemused. "Do tell."

"I-I don't know, but surely—"

Nigel raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. Sparks of red light ignited at the tip of his fingertips before a small fire bloomed to life. Orange, red, and yellow danced together in an unnatural fashion, filling the air with a warmth that radiated compassion and kindness. Rose couldn't understand it, but what she felt was too strong to ignore. She knew, deep inside her heart, that fire was one made with kindness.

Nigel held the entrancing flame out to Rose, and the tips of the fire waved to her, like she was an old and dear friend. Rose shook her head, tangled black hair slapping her face as she did so.

"Th-that could just be a trick…"

Nigel tossed the fire into the air and it formed a small ball before circling around Rose repeatedly. It zoomed around her so quick that it left behind an unending red trail in the air.

Then another snap of his fingers caused it to stop, disappearing into nothing and taking its gentle warmth with it.

Rose was speechless. Magic. Magic.

She couldn't believe it. In all her life, Rose had only dreamed of such a thing happening to her. There was magic in the world—she was magical. A sort of warmth and excitement bubbled over within her at the thought, and Rose could hardly fight the grin on her face.

She looked up at Nigel excitedly, pain and fear momentarily forgotten in place of childlike wonder. "And I can do that?"

"Your kind have a special affinity for fire, so yes, you can," answered Nigel. "However, magic is not all fun. You must learn to control your power, or else it will consume you. There are few worse fates than being overtaken by one's own magic."

Rose's eyes widened, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Could anything be worse than getting shot at? Could anything be worse than being hunted down like a wild animal? How could anything be worse than nearly being killed by people you trusted?

The little girl didn't think it could possibly get worse than that, but on the off chance it could—

Rose swallowed roughly, the lump of anxiety in her throat making it hard to speak. "H-how? Will you teach me how, then?"

"I will," he said, "but I will not be your only instructor. There is a school for Neheburs like us to learn and grow."

"A school? Like… like a boarding school? Away from here? Far, far away?" Rose then caught onto the odd word, her facing scrunching up in complete bafflement. Her tongue wrestled to correctly repeat the weird word she had just heard. "N-nehe-hay-burs? Like neighbors?"

"The school is certainly far away," Nigel continued, "but I cannot take you there yet. The term hasn't started, and there are a few more things that need to be done to accommodate you. And—yes—like neighbors. Neheburs are what we call ourselves in the Community. For now, though… I am here to take you back to the orphanage."

Rose lurched away from him, her eyes burned with fierce panic and dread. "You can't! I won't go back… they'll kill me!"

Nigel shook his head, rising to his feet and brushing off dirt from his pants. "They will not. They are no longer bewitched by your thrall."

"By my what? And they were… what?"

"Your kind have a unique ability…," Nigel explained slowly, carefully. "Your natural magic is something that falls in between Red and Black and is one of the Older and Darker arts. Your kind emit a strong thrall upon the release of this magic. A thrall is a bewitchment, it enchants and ensnares all those who do not have a strong enough magical resistance. Your particular kind of thrall will cause these victims to succumb to blinding fear."

"Fear…" Rose repeated, aghast, tasting a vile bitterness in her mouth. A surge of anger shot through her and she snapped, "They weren't afraid of me. They hated me! They tried to kill me."

"Fear can drive many people to the brink of insanity, and it can bring out the worst in us," Nigel murmured, his tone gentle as he attempted soothing the furious little girl. "Thankfully, as you are still a child, your thrall was weak and did not destroy their minds entirely. I have lifted them from their bewitchment, and they will not fall prey to your thrall again so soon."

Rose didn't know how to feel about that. In place of her fear was only anger and resentment. These burning emotions coiled in the pit of her stomach like a snake readying for attack. It was hard to accept the fact that the people who had betrayed her so harshly had done so because they were incapable of resisting her magic. It was so much easier to hate them and be done with it.

Even if they weren't at fault, Rose wasn't sure she could ever forgive them. Their shouts and gunshots seemed forever engraved in her mind, a disturbing and eerie symphony ringing in her ears every time she closed her eyes.

But Rose doubted she could explain all of that to Nigel. He said he was there to take her back, and she doubted he would accept her reasonings against such… her reasons being unshakable terror and fury.

"What about my wings and tail? And—and, wait! There was a man who picked me up earlier. I-I think he was human, but he wasn't afraid of me. He… he seemed to accept me."

"Your thrall only lasted for the initial release of your magic and would only affect those surrounding you in that area," Nigel answered. "While it would continue to linger in their minds until it was released, it would not spread past that area. The man who helped you earlier likely did so out of the goodness of his heart… he also did not see your true form."

"Why?"

"That would be the Curtain," he said. "Something of which you will learn about in school. And as for your appearance: I will force you back into your human skin. It will be uncomfortable, but swift. After that, I will take you back to the orphanage, and you will wait for me until August 1st. I will collect you and then to take you to our school, Gardenia."

The prospect of attending a magical school brought Rose out of her anger temporarily, several other ideas replacing her initial concerns. Rose shifted nervously.

"What—um—what do I need to bring? How much is it?"

"Your tuition is paid for, and I will take care of your supplies," Nigel reassured her gently. "Now hold still. This will be over soon."

"Wait!" Rose exclaimed. "You didn't say what exactly I am."

Nigel cocked his head. "Dear, haven't you ever heard of a dragon?"