Two: Present

She was cold. That was all she felt when she opened her eyes. Cold. Her body shivered. Her bones ached. Her limbs numb. Yet, she was delighted- almost giddy with joy at the look of frustration on the man's face outside her tiny cell. This man was not him. This man was one of them. Those who had chased her through time and space because of what her father had stolen from them. She didn't know the whole truth, but knew that if they got their hands on their masterpiece, worlds would be destroyed.

"Coolyala, all you have to do is tell me how to open the box. Just tell me how to open it, and I'll set you free. You can go back to living a normal life with the human and his friends."

Milbaral was this man's name. He currently had salt-and-pepper hair, aging pale skin, brown eyes, and a face that looked like it had been in too many fights. His nose was crooked, he had several scars, and his upper lip was malformed, like a piece of it was sliced off and someone tried to sew back together. But the right side of the lip was angled differently than the left- slightly higher. She had done that to him. "What will you do if I told you?" she asked for the thousandth time, knowing the answer but wanting to rile him up. He was too quiet. Too...calculating.

"Put them back where they belong, of course."

Coolyala coughed a laugh. It was funny he thought she'd believe him, especially when she heard him talking to the others. "I am young, Elohssa, but I'm not stupid."

Milbaral smiled. "Indeed, Ylfrettub." She stiffened at the name, wanting to gut him inside out for that. "Tell me, do you even know how they work? Do you know the kind of power they wield?"

She didn't dare answer. Of course Coolyala didn't know. Her father didn't have time to explain anything before he sent her away, told her to protect them.

Milbaral began to pace. "Your father and mother were naïve, Yala. They believed that because they saw one mistake, that we are the bad guys." He looked at her. "We're not. We are trying to help."

Coolyala glared at him. "Maybe we are all naïve, but even I know those weren't meant to be created. Even I know your experiments went wrong."

Milbaral nodded in agreement. "Yes, our experiments did go wrong. But some mistakes are good ones. Some mistakes are meant to be seen to their fullest potential."

She snorted.

He sighed. "We have spent two months playing nice, Yala-"

"Don't call me that!" she hissed.

He ignored her. "Two months playing nice and asking you nicely. I'm running out of patience. You have a week to give me the info before I use more forceful methods."

"I won't tell you!"

Milbaral shrugged. "Not now, perhaps. But in time. A youngling such as yourself doesn't know how to hold back when pressure weighs you down." He gave her a sad smile. "You had so much potential, Coolyala. So much in your beautiful brain that could have been of use to me, to everyone."

She gave an animalistic growl.

He didn't notice as he turned to one of her guards. "Take her to the lowest level and leave her there. Give her twenty-four hours and then see if she talks."

Coolyala gulped down the fear swallowing her heart. She didn't struggle as the guards unlocked her cell and dragged her out. Milbaral watched, a pained expression on his face. She wanted to rip that face off. It was fake!

The guards dragged her down flight after flight of stairs. So many flights, she wondered how far below the surface they were. When they finally reached the bottom, they went down a long hallway lit by torches. The walls were of packed earth, the doors down here were of old wood.

She felt the hair on the back of her neck raise as they stopped before a large, nori door. The metal was glowing subtly, giving off a dangerous pulse. Coolyala began to whimper like the little girl she had once been. One guard opened the door with ease and they dumped her within, shutting it and enclosing her in darkness.

Coolyala stayed as still as stone as she listened to her own gasping breaths. Something was wrong, she knew it. But she didn't know why. She felt it. Felt how the door was not normal, felt how this room-the darkness-was not normal. Her skin crawled.

"Yala, my beautiful youngling!"

She froze. Shutting her eyes, she began praying for the courage she'd need to endure whatever was in here with her.

"Coolyala, why do you cower?" the same, feminine voice asked.

"It's not real. It's not real. It's not-"

"Coolyala, I love you."

Tears pricked her eyes. First her mother, now her father. "It's not real!" she hissed to herself.

"It's okay, Rethguad. It's okay to tell him. We were wrong. And we're sorry for putting you through this."

A hand brushed down her cheek, feeling just like she remembered when her mother did that. "We don't want you hurt, Yala. Tell Milbaral. Let him take care of you. He will give you everything from food and water to protection."

"You're not supposed to be here," she whispered.

"We're not," her father said. "You're just hearing our voices."

Coolyala let the tears go. "He wants to destroy the world. How can you want me to let him?"

"No, youngling. He wants to save it. He has always wanted to save it."

Coolyala shook her head. "No!"

Without warning, there was a blow to her stomach. She cried out, curling into a ball to protect herself in the little way possible. Another blow, this time to her back. Before she could recover, her leg snapped, making her scream.