1 month later
reaching forward, a dark mirror apeared within my grasp, and than i flicked it out of my hand...  it began to spin in the air... and than began to circle around in front of me....
[ Mirror of Desire, Reflect my will... ]
i spoke ever so slowly....
and immeadiatly after the last word was finished.... a mirror reflected all the continents under my reign.... and soon after a portal for each ruler appeared,
and they began to step through it... the leader of the ebon blade and Northrend, one of my first and most powerful creations, stepped through the portal, slowly... and his cold blue eyes... wielding shadowmourne in his hand....
souls swirled around him and his blade... and he was followed by two ebon blade knights.....
he was the leader of the northern borders of my realm.
"My god..." his voice cold and frosty.... but filled with a sense of vague inner warmth... warmth for his creator perhaps? his god? his belief?
"please sit, arthas." a throne like the one in icecrown, formed at my will... it was completely covered in snow, and frost, along along with skulls... the bones of a dragon...
"by your will..." he got up from his kneeling position, and sat down upon the made throne by his god... melting his icy heart... for but a moment....
the two knights stood at his side...
holding their rune blades in a ceremonial position...
slowly another entity stepped through the portal... it was a dragonid... with black scales across his forelegs and forearms.... he wore a simple black kimono, across his body.... his white skin, was a creamy white..... while his eyes were red.... his hair red hair went down his back tied up in a pony tail.... with two large horns extending out from his temples, completely black in colour like ram horns....
this was Hains....equal in power to Arthas.
"Hains...."
he kneeled down on knee... and arched his back, with his fist to the ground... 
"my god."

than again with my will... a black obisidian throne was created on one side, opisite arthas...
soon 6 figures began to appear through one of the portals...  clad in dark gothic gowns, or tuxedos.... 
"council."
"my god." x6
than small, thrones appeared....
and finally Julius appeared with Five pairs of black wings upon his back.... he wore a drapped roman gown across his body.... he was perfect in appearance, with long straight hair.... and baangs framed his face, his eyes were compeletely black, like endless pools.... 
"julius...."
he slowly flapped his wings, creating a massive gust in the throne room, tinged with a dark aura, the wind turned a mild black....
no one was phased in the room, everyone had their kinks, even if they were created by a god....
he kneeled down placing his hand where  his heart is... and kneeled down before me.... 
i created a throne for him, as well, witch i gestured for him to go and sit, and he did so, without hesistration....
"how are my orders being handled?"
it was arthas who answered first... 
"Northrend, has been handled... stray demons that were leaderless have been brought under me.... shown... the power of their king. and their god!"

Following a chuuni otaku with a large disregard of human life, who gets reincarnated with 5 wishe

Elijah Adler stared at his tall reflection in the mirror. The buried anger lingering in his blue eyes as he stared at his own bare chest. The pale slashes of flesh spanning from his right shoulder to his left hip. The air around him grew thicker as he stared. The maid behind him who walked in with a somber expression now hid her head low, staring at the ground. All traces of sadness gone, replaced by fear. Elijah knew it was fear of him, fear of that look that he gave every morning as he stared and remembered why he did what he did. Why he put up with it all. 
"Rosita." He growled. The maid's head snapped up, fear still lingering in her eyes as she refused to make eye contact even through the mirror.
"Yes, my lord."
"We will have a visitor, soon. Go make tea and bring it to the study. No one enters once he's arrived. Understood?"
"Yes, my lord."
Elijah watched as Rosita ran off, out the room and down the corridor. Clearly feeling fortunate to be rid from the "demon". The staff had no idea he knew of their nickname for him. If they did they would feel even more fear, wondering when the vengeance would strike. But how could he avenge that which was true? Sure, he wasn't a literal demon. With red eyes, black wings, and a hunger for the blood of innocents. But he wasn't an angel, either. His anger was his personality and he knew that all too well. 
After dressing, Elijah walked off to the study. It was large, and others might even call it magnificent. But to him, it was a cage of memories he'd sooner like to forget. But the nightmares weren't going to let that happen. They reminded him, every night. 
As he stood staring towards the large window behind his desk he heard the study door open. Rosita walked in with a large figure following behind her. She set the tray of tea down on the desk and scampered out the room almost in a panic. 
"Elijah, my boy!" A Cheshire grin spread across the man's face sending Elijah's nerves into a frenzy. Adam. Elijah's father, was a bulky man who's height daunted most men. His near black eyes seemed almost soulless when they bore down on you. He wore a black suit with a grey shirt and a deep red tie. His facial hair framed his face with shar lines. His blond hair was slicked back making the angle of brows look that much more devilish. Elijah hated this man with every fiber of his being. But he had to push those emotions down, for now. 
"Father. Please sit." Elijah painted a smile on, one he knew would never reach his eyes.  
"I hadn't expected you to actually see me. It's been some years." Adam sat in the chair opposite the desk as Elijah leaned his hip against it. 
"It has," Elijah forced a smile, "better late than never, though, correct?"
"Of course, dear boy. Have you thought more of my proposition?"
"Yes. I'd like to meet her. Only, I'll be doing it on my own terms. I won't be telling her the nature of the meeting."
"Her father has already agreed. Why on earth should she not know?"
Elijah stood straight and strolled to the chair behind his desk where he sat sat and stared at his father, trying to not convey the ice he felt for the man. "You let me worry about that, deal?"
"Very well. As long as it happens I suppose it doesn't matter how." Adam walked back to the door of the study. "Just remember, you'll still be answering to me  boy." 
As Adam left Elijah smiled at the door, the ice finally making its appearance in his eyes. Rosita opened the door with her head bowed and walked over to where the tea sat, untouched. 
"Tell Samuel to prepare the car. I'll be leaving."
"Yes, my lord. Will you be back for dinner?" 
"I'm not sure. I'll have Samuel call you with that information. Now, leave." 
Rosita rushed out, never having met Elijah's eyes. Fortunate for her. She has learned. Had she looked up her fear would have grown. Elijah's face still held all of the rage he had pent up while his father sat in front of him. 
"Just wait, father. You'll be answering to me soon enough."

Elijah held onto hatred like The Beast held onto the rose in his lonely castle, like Ariel clung to her human items in the dark cave beneath the ocean. It was all he had for years. Now he had to train himself to let it go when around her and it nearly killed him, literally. 

Alissa was about find out who she really was and it wouldn't be easy trying to control herself. Especially when she finally began to really feel the emotions of her past. Could she find a way to live with the man who she felt betrayed her?

The demon and the damned is a story of mistakes and retribution, hatred and love, demons and angels. Whose side will you take? Follow me on an adventure I hope you'll like.
~Panda

Updated every Friday.

Desiree gasped, and raised a hand to her mouth in shock. Where her bungalow had previously stood, there was now a large half-timbered building. She frowned in confusion. Was she going mad? Her home had been a simple one-storey bungalow with plain, whitewashed walls, identical to the other buildings in Walnut Close. But what stood before her was a large, three-storey building, with a black timber frame surrounding a pale plaster infill. As she gazed upon this new structure, she wondered where it had come from, and what had happened to her bungalow.
She looked around. There still did not seem to have been any reaction at all from any of her neighbours. Surely they must all have heard the impact as the falling piece of sky crashed into her bungalow? Had not one of them even looked out of a window to see what was going on?
But the cul-de-sac was still deserted. Not one of her neighbours had emerged from their own modern semi-detached house to investigate the loud crash. Not one of them was staring in horror at the debris that now littered the road. Not one of them had rushed out to check that she was alright.
She frowned angrily, annoyed by the implication that none of her neighbours cared about her well-being. What if the falling piece of sky had destroyed their home? She would certainly have rushed out of her home to check that they were alright, and to offer any assistance she could. She sighed. Perhaps they were all too worried about what would happen if they were seen outside during the day. But surely the authorities would be understanding, given the circumstances?
She shook her head. Confusing thoughts were hurtling around her head. The bungalow had been destroyed. Her bungalow! The sky was falling in. The sky! Her head was pounding, and things were not making any sense, so she closed her eyes and tried to think rationally.
How could the sky crack? It was the sky, not a glass bowl! How could a piece fall from the sky and destroy her home? That was clearly a ridiculous notion. Even if the sky were actually a glass bowl that had cracked, a small piece of glass would not be enough to completely destroy her home. And where had this large timber-framed building come from?
She felt a sudden gust of wind, and heard the soft rustling sound of the leaves in the trees. It sounded like they were whispering furtively among themselves. Her head pounded. Was this all a delusion brought on by her headache?
Desiree opened her eyes, and looked around once more. There was a nagging thought in the back of her mind. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there seemed to be something different about the world. She looked upwards, confused. There were no cracks in the sky. How could there be? How could she have imagined that there were? Now she was absolutely certain that she was going mad.
She sighed in resignation, and looked around at the fragments of debris that were scattered across the road. Clearly, something bad had happened. Had something crashed into her home? Or was she imagining the debris as well?
She rubber her temples. Her headache was still pounding away. She tried to concentrate, and focussed on the large timber-framed building that stood before her. As she cast her eyes over the structure, taking in every structural and ornamental detail, a wave of relief washed over her. The slate roof was still intact, and the timber frames did not appear to have suffered any structural damage. None of the windows appeared to have been broken. There was some minor damage to the plaster infill, but that could easily be fixed. Whatever it was that had fallen from the sky, it didn't appear to have caused any serious damage to her home.
Rubbing her forehead once more, she stumbled wearily along the path leading to the front door of her house. She stepped absent-mindedly over the small pieces of debris that were scattered across the path. As she opened the door and stepped inside, these small fragments of brick, tile, plaster, and glass all seemed to melt into the ground, as if they were cubes of ice left outside on a hot summer day.
Desiree closed the door and leant wearily against it. Her head was still throbbing. She wasn't certain that she knew what was going on any more, or even if she believed what she had seen with her own eyes. She sank to the floor in despair, and placed her head in her hands. Was this what going mad felt like?
Inhaling deeply, she attempted to pull together all the disparate thoughts that were running around in her head, to try to make sense of everything that had happened. Had she seen cracks form in the sky, or had she imagined it? If the cracks had been real, what had happened to them? Did a piece of the sky fall to the ground, or had she imagined that as well? And why was there still that nagging thought in the back of her mind that something had somehow changed?
She clambered unsteadily to her feet, using the door handle as a support, and staggered into the front room. She carefully made her way around the coffee table, worried that she might collapse at any moment, and slumped into her rocking chair. Still breathing deeply, she reached forward and picked up her mug. She took a sip of the tea. It was stone cold. She sighed with disappointment, and struggled to her feet.
She noticed that the book she had been reading was lying on the floor next to the fireplace. She groaned as she bent down to pick it up. Her back still hurt from her earlier fall.
As she stood back up, still groaning, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the small mirror above the fireplace. She frowned. Something wasn't right. She stared at her reflection for a moment, puzzled. Certainly it was her. 45 years old. Dark skin. brown eyes. Long black hair. And yet, there was something not quite right. Weren't there pictures above the fireplace?
She looked around the room. Everything seemed to be in order. Her rocking chair sat next to the coffee table, opposite the brown leather couch that lay against the wall to her left. The wall to her right contained the sooty, blackened fireplace with its ornate mahogany surround. Within the fireplace sat a small mound of chopped wood, ready should she ever need to light the fire for warmth. Directly in front of her, against the back wall, sat the ornately carved oak sideboard and the solid oak bookcase stuffed with tomes on a variety of different subjects.
She frowned. There was definitely something not quite right about the room, but she couldn't work out what it was. She glanced down at the book in her hand, and smiled ruefully. Sighing deeply, she tossed the book on to her rocking chair and headed out of the room, along the hallway, and into the kitchen.
She tipped the contents of her mug into the kitchen sink. As the cold tea swirled down the plug-hole with a soft gurgling sound, she shuffled wearily over to the worktop behind the door, where the kettle stood waiting to be used. She placed her mug on the worktop, and retrieved a fresh tea bag from the nearby caddy. She dropped this into the empty mug, and inspected the kettle. There was clearly not enough water left to make a mug of tea.
She picked up the kettle with a mournful sigh, and shuffled back over to the sink. Holding the kettle under the cold water tap, she filled it with just enough water for a fresh mug of tea. A thought suddenly occurred to her as she shuffled back across the kitchen. Why do kitchen sinks have separate hot and cold taps? Surely having a single tap would be better? That way, you could easily mix hot and cold water to get the temperature you wanted.
She placed the kettle back on the worktop and switched it on. Suddenly frowning again, she looked back at the sink. She could have sworn that her kitchen did have a mixer tap. But the evidence was there before her eyes. She shook her head sorrowfully. She must still be imagining things. Like the cracks in the sky earlier. Had it all been brought on by her headache? 
She looked around, frowning once more. She was beginning to get the same feeling in the kitchen as in the front room. Something was not quite right. For one thing, she couldn't remember where she had put the painkillers. She pulled open the nearest drawer, and peered inside. There were a variety of items within the drawer; batteries, food bags, even a torch. But no painkillers. She rooted through the other drawers in the kitchen, her search becoming ever more frantic. Was she losing her mind? It seemed that she was losing her memory, at least.
Soon she had searched through all the drawers in the kitchen, without locating any painkillers. She was certain that she had some left, that she hadn't already used the last ones. In desperation, she flung open the door of the cupboard containing the glassware and other drinking vessels. Ah! There they were! Nestling behind one of the spare mugs. She shook her head, a mix of relief and confusion etched on her face. What on earth had possessed her to hide the painkillers there?
As she retrieved the small box of pills from their hiding place, she sighed in resignation. Perhaps this was just another side-effect of her headache. Or perhaps she was going mad. Either way, there wasn't much she could do apart from take some painkillers and wait for her headache to subside. She opened the box and tipped two small white pills out on to the worktop, before placing the box back in its hiding place among the tumblers and mugs.
While she waited for the kettle to boil, she leaned wearily against the worktop and looked around the kitchen. Perhaps if she worked out what was wrong in here, she would be able to work out what was wrong in the front room as well.
It was a reasonably well-appointed kitchen, with a free-standing gas cooker and large fridge-freezer. The sink sat in the corner by the window, separated from the cooker by a small draining board. Jars of herbs and spices lined the worktops that ran along two of the walls. Various culinary implements hung from hooks on the wall. Some of them she had rarely used. Others she barely recognised. She sighed again. She still couldn't work out exactly what it was that was wrong. She turned and glared at the kettle. It seemed to be taking a long time to boil.
Sighing impatiently, she looked out of the kitchen window. The garden outside was in need of some attention. She screwed her face up and tried to remember when Martin, the gardener, was next due to come round. It must be in the next couple of days, judging by the length of the grass, but she couldn't remember exactly when. She sighed again, and looked back at the kettle. It still hadn't boiled. Why was it taking so long?
Suddenly, she froze. She was sure there had been another splintering sound, similar to the previous ones only much quieter. It had seemed to come from one of the rooms upstairs. A puzzled expression crossed her face. But her home was a bungalow, wasn't it?
She moaned in anguish and shook her head violently from side to side, to try to banish the confusing thoughts that were flooding her mind. Of course her home wasn't a bungalow. Her home was a large three-storey house. Why was she imagining that it was a bungalow?
She sighed and rubbed her temples again. If only this blasted headache would go away, she would be able to concentrate properly. She thought she had better go and investigate this latest noise. In any case, the kettle still hadn't boiled yet.
She strode purposefully out of the kitchen, heading along the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. As she passed the line of family photographs that hung on the wall, they started to sway gently in the light breeze generated by her passage. In the front room, the rocking chair started to move slowly back and forth, creaking softly with each change in direction.
She tilted her head to one side as she climbed the stairs, listening for any further noises. But it was still deathly quiet. She stopped at the top of the stairs, and looked out of the window. The branches of the nearby trees were swaying gently in the breeze, but she could not hear any birds singing, or any sounds of traffic on the nearby main road.
She groaned. Maybe the pounding of her headache was drowning out all other sounds in her head. She rubbed her forehead, and pushed open the door to the bathroom. She glanced inside. Everything appeared to be in good order. Nothing was broken. She pulled the door shut behind her, and moved along the landing towards her daughter's bedroom. She could now hear a soft, fluttering sound, like a piece of loose fabric flapping in the wind.
She pushed open the door, and looked inside. The bedroom had lain empty for the past few months, as her daughter was away at university. She looked around the room. There was a thin layer of dust on every surface, but nothing appeared to be broken, or even out-of-place. She frowned as she looked at the large mirror on the side wall. Behind the mirror, the paint was flaking off the wall, in places revealing the bare brickwork. She had intended to repaint the entire wall at some point, but had never quite got around to it.
She turned and walked out of her daughter's bedroom, closing the door behind her. She pushed open the door of her own bedroom, and peered inside. The room was dark. She was briefly overcome with panic, as she wondered why the room was dark, and what terrors were waiting for her in the darkness.
She took a step backwards, and the feeling of panic subsided as quickly as it had arrived. She shook her head and tutted, chastising herself for her gullibility. Get a grip, Desiree! She had simply forgotten to open the curtain that morning. She strode purposefully over to the window and pulled the curtain back.
Light flooded into the room. She looked around, and sighed with relief. Nothing appeared to have been broken. The mirror on the wall was crooked, so she straightened it. The ornamental owl on the bedside table was facing the wrong way, so she turned it around. Nothing else seemed to be out-of-place, so she turned and headed out of the room.
As she moved along the landing and approached the door to her mother's bedroom, the fluttering sound became louder. Nervously, she gently pushed at the door, suddenly worried that a window had broken and a bird had flown into the room.
The door swung gently open, and she hesitantly looked into the room. There didn't appear to be any birds flying about, or any loose pieces of fabric flapping in the breeze. But the fluttering sound definitely seemed to be coming from within the room.
She cautiously entered her mother's bedroom, and looked around. The window was thankfully not broken. She couldn't see anything else that could have caused the earlier splintering sound, nor anything that could be causing the fluttering sound that seemed to echo around the room.
She shivered, although there was no breeze in the room. Just standing in her mother's bedroom made her uneasy. As she turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of herself in the large mirror on the wall. She stopped, as if frozen in place. The fluttering sound seemed to be emanating from the mirror itself. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, it seemed to move and shimmer, like a piece of fabric caught in a stiff breeze.
She blinked, and the image reflected in the mirror suddenly changed. She was no longer staring at her own reflection, but an image of her mother. She frowned uncertainly. For some reason, that seemed to make sense. She was in her mother's bedroom, after all. But how could that make sense? Mirrors reflect what is there, in the room. She sighed with despair. Maybe she was going mad after all. 
She glared suspiciously at the reflected image of her mother. Her mother seemed to smile back at her. Nervously, she approached the mirror and placed her hand lightly on its surface. Her mother did the same. The mirror seemed to vibrate in response to her touch, or to her mother's touch. One or the other.
Ripples began to form on the surface of the mirror, radiating outwards from her hand. She frowned. She knew that these ripples were no more than an illusion, the light playing tricks on her mind. Like the reflection of her mother. She was seeing things that clearly were not there. She could feel the mirror beneath her hand, a simple sheet of crystalline glass, solid and unyielding.
As the ripples moved back and forth across the surface of the mirror, they began to merge together, forming a regular, rhythmic oscillation. The reflected image of her mother warped under this oscillation, changing shape like a reflection in one of those distorting mirrors often found at funfairs. She thought she could hear her mother's voice, chiding her. "Be a good girl," the voice seemed to whisper.
She lifted her hand away from the mirror in shock. Almost instantly, the ripples faded from view, along with the reflection of her mother. In its place was an image of a sturdily-built man in his late forties, with dark brown skin, brown eyes, and tightly-cropped black hair. He was standing before a mirror in the hallway of his home, adjusting his tie.
Desiree smiled, and nodded in understanding. She knew what needed to be done.

Wildbridge was a sleepy town. Nothing much happened there. Well, not since... Martin. And that suited Serina just fine. But everything was about to change. Or had it already started changing, and all that was about to happen was that people were going to start noticing? Well, it's difficult not to notice when people start turning up dead. Murdered. Especially when you're a senior member of the Serious Crime Investigation team.

Meanwhile, many light years away on the non-aligned planet of Jahanna, changes were already afoot, and there were whispers of rebellion and revolution on the streets. But death is not far away here, either. As the well-oiled machinery of the bureaucracy begins to stutter and creak under the weight of murder and betrayal, just how far will the Council go to maintain the status quo?

How could the events in Wildbridge possibly have any bearing on Jahanna?

And what exactly happened on Bershevah?

--English is not my native language (i'm french)--
At first, Lee Yon was an ordinary employee, in just a few months she grew into an ordinary team leader - usually exploited by her company, hated and criticized by her interns, constantly stressed by them and always ready to work for others - . Over the years, she quickly realized that despite her efforts nothing would change: the company would remain the same whether it did or not. If she stopped she would be the only one in trouble and she couldn't afford it. Lee Yon was not poor but neither was she rich, she was in between; she earned enough so that as soon as she could send some money to her parents, pay her rent and sometimes have fun (a little cake, books ...). If we were to follow the stereotyped course but for the most part true of life, in a few years she would have to get married, have children while working and when their situation stabilizes, stop working to take care of them. Nonetheless, she didn't want that kind of life, she wanted one where she was free to do whatever she wanted.
"Why is life so unfair?"
Her life would become even more so a year later when she met Director Yang, the new head of her department. A thirty-something with multiple political contacts and jaded with life. He was immediately struck by the beauty of Lee Yon: her milky white skin, her large black eyes, her long onyx hair, her luscious red lips and especially her indifferent behavior towards him. He offered her many things but she always refused. So much so that after a while his excitement over his cold responses quickly gave way to frustration and annoyance. Without her noticing, he used her and he succeeded in staining his reputation forever. From "the cold boss" that she was, Lee Yon had become "the slut who sold her body to climb the ranks." But all this she did not notice until too late: and although aware of the situation at that time, she could not defend herself. Her recordings of Director Yang harassing her, her complaints, and all other evidence she presented were dismissed. Her world, although already very small, was crumbling.
A woman even if she is weak who harasses you with lawsuits and complaints becomes quickly disturbing when you have a public image to protect. Thus, director Yang, one afternoon at the end of working hours, carried out his plan.

♦♦♦

1st Detonation
The first bullet had fired into the air to lodge in Lee Yon's right leg as she tried to escape. The throbbing pain caused by it made her cry out. She barely hung up on the mirror of an empty car and glanced back, avoiding looking at her bloody leg. About fifteen - not - twenty men in black suits approached her, each one with an evil look on their faces. In this empty parking lot all alone, she had no chance of getting out.
- "If you get down on your knees and beg me, maybe I could take you as my mistress, who knows?"
Lee Yon remembered Headmaster Yang's mocking phrases as she clenched her teeth. The more she thought about it, the more her long-buried emotions took place on her sweaty face; anger, fear, shame, sadness. She did NOT want to DIE but especially not in this way. She stumbled up slightly and began to walk straight ahead. The support of her weight on her injured leg made her close her eyes, from them flowed large tears mixed with dried blood.
As fast as lightning, a violent noise reached her ears, she did not understand until too late what it was.
2nd Detonation
A bullet far more painful than the first, Lee Yon fell to the rocky ground in the parking lot, scratching her skin as she passed. Her left leg was now in the same condition as the right.
*Footsteps*
*Footsteps*
Headmaster Yang's subordinates were now only a few feet away from her as Lee Yon looked around looking for an escape, a person called ... but she saw nothing, no one. Her tears flowed even harder. Soon, she was able to hear what her pursuers were saying who had slowed their pace - it was true that a woman who could no longer use her legs and even if she crawled would not go very far -:
- "The boss said not to kill her. He didn't say anything else!"
- "It's true, and I saw that it's a real beauty!"
- "How are we going to organize ourselves? The chief before and the others ..."
- "What are you talking about there is not just one hole!"
-"You are right-
Lee Yon's eyes froze: they didn't just mean to kill her, he wanted to **** her too! Her death which she had earlier internally qualified as "despicable" would now be "dishonorable, disgusting and traumatic"! Lee Yon took a breath, her disgusted gaze planted in their directions. Her eyes immediately met those of the men in suits. One of them even waved to him.
"Disgusting." she thought
She took a deep breath, her eyes closed.
- "I'd rather die than become a sex slave for you, waste bunch."
Blood soon spilled into her mouth, her eyes fluttered for a short moment as they closed permanently. She had committed suicide by biting her tongue. (Author / Yes, it's possible!)

♦♦♦

When the next day, Lee Yon woke up to birdsong. She noticed right away that something was wrong. The parking lot was gone, no more bullies but she was now in a devilishly luxurious room; with large golden windows, a huge four-poster bed she was sitting on, typical western furniture brand new and above all looking extremely expensive, a silver telescope and even a wardrobe - which was the size of an average room - decorated with diamonds. No doubts, she was not at home! Her doubts were confirmed when she saw the long curly red hair that had taken the place of her black hair. Lee Yon grabbed the gold-framed mirror that rested on one of the nightstands that surrounded the bed. She let go of the mirror after seeing herself in it and sat back down on the bed with her eyes closed, her brow furrowed.
<Unreally soft milky white skin, large blue eyes protected by long azure lashes, long curly red hair, and full red lips.
<Tasha Bellion, the only princess of the empire of the same name.
<One of the most beautiful, not to say the most beautiful woman on the continent.
in the novel "Flower's love". A secondary character who has almost always had a rich and peaceful life. So what was the problem? Lee Yon -Tasha- sighed:
"Why did I have to reincarnate in the body of a cursed girl? And be the older sister of the male secondary character, a bloodthirsty punk!"

Lee Yon, promising young team leader.

When she woke up from her assassination attempt, she was no longer in her world, she was now in a world that was both familiar and foreign to her.

She had become the elder sister of the villain, the second masucline role in the novel "Flower's love": Tasha Bellion, the only princess of the empire of the same name.

A secondary character who "almost always" had a "rich" and peaceful life.

A pawn frequently used by the villain who "hardly" used it.


So what was the problem?


This girl has a curse that takes her word away and because of it people are treating her like crazy. MUTE AND DISRESPECTED

And she's the older sister of the evil emperor, a bloodthirsty punk! IN RISK OF DEATH AT ANY TIME


- "Hmm ... Can we survive?"




Author: - "Who knows?"

---------------------------------------------------
You want a novel with R-18 (a little late), isekai, black magic, a vengeful and badass character (at times, by name she's the type to ignore you if you pissed her off) or just a little novel to pass the time. THEN YOU ARE WELCOME ! 

---
○ Info:

 -Pinterest- The cover is not mine, I just edited it a lot!

-Language- I am FRENCH ! So sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes.

-Outputs- Are irregular except during the holidays or when I have time.

-History- My first on the platform so be nice :D


Thank you in advance ! good reading ;)

       



   I groan against consciousness as crimson light flares across my eyelids. There is a sound I cannot place, though I find it soothing. I open my eyes and feel a jolt of fear as I realize...I have no idea where I am! Looking around, the walls of the room are marbled and elegant. The furniture appears antique. There are large round widows across from the bed; with stained glass panels on hinges that swing outward, they are open. Black velvet curtains drawn back. 
    Standing and crossing to the window; a warm, soft breeze washes over me. Light glints off water from a beach; waves lapping against the shore just yards away. The scene reminds me of a fairytale. The water is so blue and clear I can see the ocean floor. The sand white, with tiny specs of color. The sun is high in the sky yet. I shake myself, pulling my attention back to my main concern; nothing I am seeing tells me where I am or how I got here. 
      Turning I start scanning the room in more detail.  Ahead is the bed with its antique metal frame. It is outfitted in rich purple silk and large fluffy pillows. To my right is an ornately engraved metal door with a curved handle. Depicted are runes I've never seen before surrounding a strange symbol engraved delicately into the metal. I walk over and try the handle, my heart sinks as it only jiggles in my hand. 
"Fuck." I curse to myself softly.

      Crossing to the window again, I look down trying to judge if I can jump. The edge of the window stands 50 feet above the ground. The walls of the building are a grey stone flecked with black mica. There will be no jumping. Frustrated, I sit below the window, placing my head in my hands in anguish. A sense of doom settles around me and sobs fill the air as I cry.

     🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹


      I jerk awake suddenly, disoriented. I realize there is a woman standing over me! I have only enough time to think, 
"I must have cried myself to sleep."
The woman crouches faster than I can react and thrusts the end of a vial full of liquid in my mouth. Reflexively, I swallow tasting copper; my face scrunches and I gag. She then holds up a mirror silently showing me my own reflection.
    The mirror flashes glinting like silver and is framed with shinning gemstones. Studying the girl in the mirror; in shock I forget my surroundings. I reach out touching the mirror for she is not familiar. The girl is a pale porcelain doll, both beautiful and timeless.  She has the kind of eyes women would die for, large and youthful. Irises sapphire blue and as clear as crystals. Dark tresses, curled into soft ringlets frame her angular face. Curls brush her shoulders as I shake my head in wonder. Starting with shock, I watch her eyes,
"No..." I whisper. 
"Your eyes." A lilting voice whispers in my head.  
I stare harder swearing I must be seeing things. 
I could have swore I saw...
The mirror clatters to the floor with a loud clang as my ears roar and darkness swallows me again. 

        🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

       The first thing I notice when I next awake is scent, something near me smells delicious! I slowly open my eyes and peek around me. I sit up, realizing I am still in the room. Now there is a table in the center where there wasn't before. Sliding out of the bed with no memory of getting back into it, I approach the table. On it is a mirror, a goblet full of ruby colored liquid and a note. The note reads;

"Drink when hungry.
Don't be alarmed by your reflection.
I'll return after darkness falls."
—Kisses,
                 Ava

      Picking up the mirror as curiosity courses through me, I gasp. The same girl shines back at me from before. Memory returns to me of her eyes glowing with amethyst fire. My reflection stiffens with shock. 
"My eyes look normal now..." 
In confusion I blink, just to make sure. Nope. Still blue. Studying my reflection closer, I smile and jerk almost dropping the mirror. The eye teeth on my top jaw are now small fangs!My tongue flicks over them curiously and I nick the skin slightly. The wound heals itself so fast I don't even bleed! Running my fingers over my ears I feel the ends taper to a point and my hands start to shake. Strange lettering appears and disappears at random in many colors over my fair skin. The only thing that seems to have remained the same is my long, raven-black hair and the sapphire blue of my eyes. 
    My stomach growls distracting me and almost against my will I sniff the air again. I find myself leaning closer to the goblet and it dawns on me that this is where the smell is coming from! I try to resist but soon I can think of nothing else. Retreating, I slide my back against the wall beneath the window. I stand and lean out the window desperately trying to smell something else; anything else but to no avail, the smell still assails me. I curse softly, and start to pace. 
    Without knowing how, I'm standing at the table holding the goblet in my hands. I stare into the dark red liquid, feeling the cool metal of the silver goblet beneath my fingers; gingerly I bring it to my lips. I intend only a sip, but as the liquid touches my throat I groan softly!
                  
                 
                 🔹🔷Euphoria.🔷🔹


My senses intensify. I can see dust motes in the air around me. Patches of light in different colors flash in and out in the air like lightning. The lights smell like familiar and unfamiliar things: grass, campfires, incense, rain, and other smells I can't place. I can hear whispers, nothing in any language I understand. 
      Nothing though, compares to the taste. I can't even begin to accurately describe it. The best I can offer is it is like all my favorite foods and a five course meal, one taste after another.
    Before long, the cup is empty and I'm left wanting more but I'm no longer hungry. I try to remember why I should be afraid, why I should be cautious, but my mind is suddenly hazy. I lay back down in the bed and fall into slumber.
       I don't sleep long, for when I wake it is just passing twilight.  Memory returns and sitting up, I tense. The woman will be coming! I sniff the air but I don't detect anything new yet. My ears prick though with the sound of footsteps which are still far off. Twenty minutes tick by on my internal clock which is almost never wrong. Her scent begins to reach me. It is subtle, but unlike anything I have ever smelled. I sniff trying to identify scents; coconut, patchouli, and palo santo. There is also something else; a musky, wild, smell I can't place. Lost in my thoughts, the knob on my door jiggles and the lock clicks. The door swings inward, opening wide. 
       The woman glides through the door, this time I can see her clearly. She wears a cloak that looks velvety soft in bright emerald around slender shoulders. Her hair, thick and curly, is auburn. It seems to glow with an eerie fire. Her skin, snowy white like mine, flashes with the same script rainbows. It is her eyes, though, that hold my attention. Infinite age, Soulful depth and wild raw power look at me appraisingly through amethyst stained glass. I am instantly, hopelessly, captivated. 
"Who are you?" I asked breathlessly. 
Her voice is lilting and flowing like the winds as she replies, 
"Your Salvation."

                         🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷

My cover picture is too large I guess...and I have other images that go with the story that I can’t insert D:

Li Xiuying locked her bedroom door; she didn't want any more uninvited visitors. She then proceeded into the bathroom. 

Li Xiuying stood in front of her floor length mirror and looked at herself.  She saw a 23-year-old woman in pajamas' staring back at her.

Li Xiuying pulled her fingers through her short bob. A trace of sadness in her eyes. She once had luscious black locks that reached down to her waist. She recalled how her mother would brush her hair for school and before she went to bed. 

However due to working around the clock, she didn't have time to manage it, so Li Xiuying made the decision to cut her precious hair which reminded her of her mother's love. 

Li Xiuying was fair to the point you could see her veins through her delicate paper-like skin. She was very thin and looked like she hadn't eaten a decent meal in years. 

Her face had the potential to be beautiful but it now looked haggard. 

Li Xiuying's eyebrows were delicate. Her large brown eyes framed with long lashes looked weary. She had dark circles and eye bags. Her cheeks looked hollowed out. She had a small button nose and lips the color of a dusky pink sunset, that was cracked and peeling.

Li Xiuying had never really cared about her appearance or health. She was always focusing on work and didn't want to waste time on trivial matters like her appearance but it would be different from now on.

Li Xiuying stared at her reflection in the mirror: "From now on I will love myself enough to make up for the lack of love from others. I only have this one body and I will cherish it."

Li Xiuying took a quick shower and walked back into her room wrapped in a fluffy white towel.

She looked at the shelf above her desk which held her beauty supplies. It was bare apart from a moisturizing cream and a lip-gloss.  She took the moisturizing cream and started applying it to her body.

Li Xiuying: "I need to go shopping."

She then went and opened her wardrobe. A winter coat, five sets of smart wear, one set of casual clothes, a hoody, three sets of pajamas, socks and underwear. She also had two pairs of smart shoes and a pair of Dr.Martens.  Compared to Li Yu Yan's closet she seemed like a pauper. 

Li Xiuying: "I seriously need to go shopping."

Li Xiuying didn't mind what little she had but sometimes it was nice having a few extra things you wanted instead of simply just what you needed.

She put on a basic white underwear set, followed by a pair of blue jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt. 

Li Xiuying switched on her laptop to do some online shopping. She first looked up "must-have beauty products."  She decided that she would go shopping for clothes in-store.

Li Xiuying had put several items in her basket and was checking out. When she finally recalled that her uncle had all her bank and credit cards! She has no money!!! How could she fund her nice life without any funds?

Li Wang had made her open various bank accounts and credit cards in her name and then kept them for himself. He even kept her online log-ins a secret. His excuse was that she was too irresponsible to handle such large sums of money.  

In the past, she would always have to ask permission to use a debit card and even then her uncle would type in the card details and wouldn't let her be present.

Li Xiuying sighed: "I'm a 23-year-old woman who has the lives of people in the palm of my hand yet I can't even buy face cream on my own. It's time for me to take charge of my own life." She was far too ambivalent about everything in her past life.  

Li Xiuying grabbed her rucksack and put in some documents, ID and her hoody. She also grabbed a few protein bars and a bottle of water from her desk. 

Li Xiuying turned her phone off and put it in a desk drawer. It had been bugged by Sun Yu. She only came to know this several years later when she inadvertently overheard a conversation between her uncle and Sun Yu. 

Sun Yu had bugged her phone so that all calls and messages were recorded and sent to her uncle. There was also a tracking device in her phone. Her uncle had given 10000 Yuan to Sun Yu and promised there would be more if he kept working for him.

Li Xiuying felt a sharp pain in her chest: 'Without realizing anything I had been living in a cage, it was large enough that I couldn't see the metal bars enclosing me and thought I was free. '

She shoved her laptop & charger and hard drive in her bag. Her uncle never thought to do anything to her laptop because she would share all her work with her beloved big sister Li Yu Yan anyway. 

Li Xiuying put on her Dr Martens and went to open her window. She leaned over and reached for the large black pipe on the side and slowly began descending. Li Xiuying climbed down with some difficulty. Usually climbing down the pipe would be an easy task but due to her weakened state, she was struggling. Li Xiuying had been good at climbing every since she was young due to her father taking her to climbing walls and frequently taking her to the park to climbs trees. 

Li Xiuying eventually reached the ground. She kept her back to the wall and rubbed her sore hands together. Li Xiuying slowly followed the wall around to the garden at the back of the house. When she finally caught sight of her target in the distance she started sprinting towards the fence on the far side.

Li Xiuying is the youngest surgeon the world has ever seen. 

Once upon a time, her work had meaning; to save lives. But soon surgery lost all of its meaning to her, she became an operating machine. She didn’t even meet the patient until they were unconscious on her surgical table like a piece of meat waiting to be carved. 

She neglected love, friendship, beauty, her health all to work tirelessly like a dog and continue to make her family happy. Even when she had no more left to give; they made sure she gave.

But betrayal came swiftly and suddenly and Li Xiuying met her untimely end at the hands of her most trusted and loves ones. 

All the world’s a stage and it seems it is not yet time for Li Xiuying to exit. She finds herself waking up in her bed, 8 years in the past.
 
She is granted a second chance at life.

............................................................................................

This is a slow romance novel 

The novel may have realistic elements but it is a Work of Fiction.

There will be medical cases and scenario's included due to the main character (Li Xiuying) being a doctor. I have tried my best to explain as much of the medical terminology as possible.

...........................................................................................

My heart pounds in my chest.
I wake in a large bed, the size appropriate for a noble.
My head is throbbing uncomfortably with the newfound memories, and oddly enough… my old life begins to fade. I can only grasp the outlines of the woman that I was before Valentine. Nevertheless, the night where I wept over Prince Percival is fresh in my mind.
I slip off the mattress and examine my surroundings. My room is ridiculously vast, straight out of a fairytale. A chandelier hangs low in the center, the walk-in dressing room is packed to the brim, the connecting bathroom displays a large tub for soaking and spotless sliding doors lead to the balcony.
But before I can enjoy my luxuries, I need to keep in mind what I came for. Strolling to the nearest mirror, I contemplate my new reflection.
"Wow…"
Valentine Scarlet was indeed as unspeakably enchanting as the readers had imagined. Thick dark eyelashes framed piercing mauve eyes. A thin and sharp nose accompanied glossy cherry lips. Fiery hair like liquid flames dripped down in perfect waves. I had just woken up, but I could've easily made every man in the kingdom fall to his knees.
Every last one of my new features was irreproachable. I knew that I had stepped into a novel where the characters had no human blemishes, as the author had crafted an impeccable villainess. The body I had taken on could outshine any of the supermodels back in my old life, even without makeup.
I never had much appreciation for my miserable life before entering the book, but now I was even more grateful for the reckless wish I had made when Percival died. If I knew that I would look like this, I would've hopped into here long ago!
*Knock knock*.
My head swivels towards the door, the interior monologue interrupted.
"Val, are you awake?"
Whose voice is that? It takes me a moment to utilize my new memories.
"...Jay?"
"Yeah, what are you doing? You're normally up by now."
I wrack my brain. Jay Scarlet. Maestro of seduction. An unfeeling man who hides behind a facade of charisma. Does he always come to wake me up? What time is it? God, what day is it? How far back in time have I travelled?
"I'm feeling a little unwell today, Jay."
He's silent for a moment. I hold my breath, praying that he leaves.
But the door to my room is thrown open, and Jay stomps in.
"What do you mean, unwell?"
He's tall, with broad shoulders and rippling muscles. His jet black hair is pushed back, except for a stray strand that tickles his eyebrow. Though I read his description in the book before, it's certainly different to have him stand before me.
His chemise is mostly unbuttoned and I try not to stare at the exposed skin of his upper chest. What's more, the few buttons that he actually fastened are threatening to pop, holding on for dear life. A blush steals across my cheeks but I shoo it away.
"Ah, uh, Jay-"
He raises an eyebrow and I quickly scramble away from the mirror. I'm sure Valentine never acted so ungracefully before.
"I woke up with a terrible headache."
He tilts his head, eyes glancing almost imperceptibly over my nightgown before returning to my face.
"You do look a little sick…"
Jay crosses the room in three strides and stands before me. The smell of his cologne invades my nose.
"Right. So I will be having breakfast alone," I try to explain, taking a step back.
"Is that so..?"
He closes the distance again and lets his fingers trail down my cheek.
"You aren't so guarded today. Actually," he delicately tilts my chin up, "You're being quite shy."
I swat his hand away and glare, doing my best to impersonate the formidable Valentine.
"Oh, now I recognize you."
I huff and stomp up to the window, purposefully turning away from him.
"Aren't you planning on leaving?"
I hear him chuckle.
"Alright. I'll tell the servants to bring the food to your room. Rest up, Val."
The door shuts and I let out a shaky sigh of relief.

“The Scarlet House. They call it a den of snakes.”
I endured a pathetic lifetime of getting harassed and deceived. Perhaps that is why I found comfort in Prince Percival, the main character of the novel “Twisted Minds”: he was just as miserable and alone as I was. But the Prince meets a tragic end in the Scarlet House, a mansion where all the most twisted antagonists reside. So I beg the Gods to give me a chance to change the story, even if I must venture into that nest of vipers myself. Thus, I reincarnated into the book as Valentine Scarlet, one of the most beautiful and powerful women of the Scarlet House. The real villainess might've contributed to Percival's death, but I'm planning on saving him.

The sun was  just shining through the thin white curtains that danced in the breeze of the open window, letting in the ocean air. The room was large and filled with a comfortable looking sitting area with an upholstered couch against the wall, with matching arm chairs to either side, around a low round wood table. This sitting arrangement faced a standing area with a large wooden wardrobe, wooden dresser and in between them was a full length mirror framed in polished carved wood.
In the reflection of this mirror stood a man in his early twenties wearing two pieces of a three piece suit. He had sandy blonde hair, in a well kept crew cut. He stood around 1.8 meters tall and his features were sharp, as he was on the skinny side, but it did help to push him over to just being considered handsome, despite his rather pale skin.
Kaleb was currently adjusting his cuff links as he observed himself in the mirror. The only word he could find to describe the finished result was ... 'pretentious'. As he was for the most part a shut in, hence the pale complexion, who was either engrossed in his work or his video games, sometimes to the point of forgetting to eat, hence being rather skinny. The expensive suit, the cuff links and even the well kept hair, to a certain extent, were not really his style. 'But', he thought with a sigh and a slight smile, 'I guess it makes sense to wear this on my wedding day'.
He and Stephanie had graduated college in the spring and were now having their June wedding in Hawaii. The plan was then to spend the rest of the year on a sort of world tour honeymoon. 'This is seriously going to cut into my savings' Kaleb thought with another sigh. Although money wasn't too much of a problem for Kaleb, as he had developed an app with his best friend Anthony, who was also his best man. The app had gone big in their junior year and Kaleb was still seeing profits. To top it off they also had several other projects in the works, in fact Anthony and he had plans to start their own company.
As Kaleb continued to stare at his overly fancy reflection it became more and more humorous to him and he couldn't help snickering. He never had any money growing up and he didn't even own a suit until he got to college. After all his parents had passed away in a car accident when he was very young leaving him an orphan and he had gone to live with his Godparents. His Godparents were well meaning, warm people, the problem was they already had 5 kids before they took in Kaleb. This, paired with the Dad's job as a mechanic, had led to a distinct lack of luxury in their household. With such humble beginnings, Kaleb felt uncomfortable surround by such excess and clothed in such luxury. Like the carnival cutout characters that one would put their face through, the wrongness of it was comical.
To be honest, even after Kaleb made all that money, he hadn't really changed his lifestyle that much. Initially, about the only thing he did was buy nicer computer gear. The change in lifestyle came after he met Stephanie.  She pulled him out of his life in a darkened studio apartment and showed him a life beyond the screen Kaleb worked and played on.
Stephanie would often comment about how hard life must have been for him growing up.  While Kaleb would be the first to admit it wasn't easy he wouldn't have called it hard. After all, his little ragtag family had always had enough and they always looked out for each other, including him.
As he reminisced on all these pleasant memories, Kaleb finished his last adjustments in the mirror he let out one last sigh. This was the sigh of a nervous groom who had gotten ready entirely too early and now had nothing to due but stress. It was barley 7 a.m. and the wedding didn't start until 4!
'I'm just going to have to go find Anthony and annoy him for a couple of hours' Kaleb thought, quickly making his way to the door. As he grabbed the handle he was slammed into the door as his ears were flooded with a horrific shattering sound from behind him. Kaleb felt the blood flowing from his nose, as he went to grab his nose to stop the stream he felt a change in the room. He grabbed the door handle with both hands as the force in the room instantaneously reversed, the explosion becoming an implosion sweeping him off of his feet and pulling him toward the center of the room.  As Kaleb looked into the room, though his tear filled eyes, he saw what looked like a crack had appeared.
The crack that appeared in the center of the room went from ceiling to floor and looked as if someone had shattered the fabric of reality like it was glass. It looked like the room had been torn in half as a spiderweb of veins continued to crawl around the rift further tearing chunks of reality into the abyss. It was like the initial force was the puncturing of a vacuum and now the forces were once again trying to find equilibrium by sucking everything out of the vacuum.
Kaleb was now hanging from the doorknob as he looked into what seemed like the mouth of Hell. As he looked on in horror the furniture and wall art was dragged away, and an unusual movement to the side of the room caught his eye. It was a ball of black light, as odd as that was, that seemed to be completely unaffected by the ever increasing pull of the rift. This black ball, about the size of a soccer ball, seemed like it was writhing around as its outline continually shifted and it crashed around the room. It looked like it was almost in agony.
Just as he became aware of this odd entity, its seemingly random writhing brought it hurtling toward Kaleb's head! As he tensed for the impact Kaleb was shocked when it went right though him like a ghost. As he turned around to see where it had gone, he suddenly felt like his brain was exploding! His vision went white as he grabbed his head in agony.
"Found you" he heard echoing in the recesses of his fading consciousness as he plummeted into the rift.

Torn from his comfortable life, his love and even his World; Kaleb is forced to a dangerous reality due to his lineage of Dragon's blood. 

In this new World where magic and power reign supreme, Kaleb is thrown into a society of dark truths, where the strong prey on the weak and the Dragons and their decedants are hunted even by the Gods.

It was then that she knew that there was much more between them than what she had assumed.
…
After mother Devi showed the three around the mansion, Archie decided to call her father to let him know that she had reached. 
"Hey dad, where are you?"
"Hey… I'm at the office. Did you reach San Diego?"
"Oh yeah, we reached last night."
"How do you like the place?"
"It's amazing. I'm glad mother Devi is here to help us. I already love her."
"Mother who?..."
"Mother Devi? The woman who stays here?"
"What do you mean?... I don't recollect putting anyone in charge."
"Uh… Father…"
"I need to tell you something, but don't ask me anything more."
"Okay… What is it?"
"Mother Devi is the name I gave to Aafira to hide the fact that she was muslim."
"…"
"Architha?"
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Send me a photo of this woman you are talking about."
"Okay. But I doubt there is any issue. You probably just forgot about leaving her here; But why does she go by this name?"
"That's what I'm unsure about… I have to go now, I am a little busy. Take care and be cautious."
"Bye."
It was as if every minute of her life piled her over with questions over questions; it killed her… but none of them could be answered. At least not yet.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, still deep in thought about what really was happening around her, she saw the door to her room open, and in came Augustin. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, styling his hair to a spike.
"And where are you off to?" Archie asked, her eyebrows raising.
"I should be asking why you're not ready…"
"What? To go where?"
"I thought we had an interview at Victorie Lawyers'"
…
"Oh… Today itself?"
"Yep. The sooner the better. Afsah already arranged an appointment." 
"Oh... Afsah...? Now get out; I'm going to get changed."
~
Archie had a hard time deciding what to wear since she didn't know what would be appropriate. She wanted to leave a good impression although finally, she decided on just a simple churidhar top with white leggings. She braided her long hair and ornamented herself with golden earrings and a necklace to match. If there was one thing she was proud of, it was her culture and she never felt the need to hide it in front of anyone, not missing the large black bindi for her forehead. 
After checking herself in front of the large golden framed mirror near her bed, she wore her favourite sandalwood scent and quickly made her way downstairs, thinking that Augustin would have been impatient. 
As she was hurrying down, she noticed Augustin and Afsah standing on either sides of the rails to greet her, along with mother Devi who put her hands together, welcoming her. 
At seeing her so genuinely happy and smiling, she couldn't help but ignore what her father had said on the phone before. She fastened up a little before hugging her ever so tightly, inhaling the smell of rose scent. Archie reached to mother Devi's feet and took her blessings before following Afsah and Augustin back to the jeep which was parked outside.
As she sat behind them two, fiddling nervously with her hands, she started to wonder why Afsah hadn't left yet. Didn't he have work? Why was he- Then she remembered the portrait. He belonged to this mansion nearly as much as she did. He knew her and it wasn't completely fruitless of him to stay here with them both. 
They travelled for so long just to exit the snowy sand although it was much more pleasant than the night before, as the sun shone brightly at the glimmering ice, reflecting on their path like a bed of diamonds. During the ride, although Archie remained silent, Afsah and Augustin discussed her interest in legal studies and how important this was for her. At every point Augustin mentioned Archie, Afsah would glance at her from the rare view mirror, so much to a point where both of them were almost uncomfortable. 
"Although we are basically strangers, Afsah, I feel as though you're my brother. I really wonder why you are still here with us, helping without complaint." Augustin chuckled as he threw his bait to see if he could get anything out of him in regards to his relation to the Krishna's. 
"I mean, how could I abandon the daughter of the US's most well- known business man and his assistant in the middle of Denver? Raj would have been disappointed to know that I hadn't helped." Afsah smirked, looking back up at the mirror to meet Archie's startled expression.
"Haha, yeah…" Augustin quickly responds to avoid an awkwardness.
"Did you contact your father after reaching the mansion?" Afsah questioned, a look of concern taking over his smirk.
"Oh, yeah I did." 
"Hmm.. I mean; you haven't told him about me have you?"
"No, not yet. He'd kill me for living with a stranger." She giggled nervously.
"Stranger.." He murmured to himself 
~
Finally reaching the city, the three were relieved to be around live, breathing, people, as back at Hadraniel's land, the area was isolated and almost in the middle of nowhere. 
Afsah parked the jeep in the parking lot of a large, glass, high class building which stood unique amongst the others. If she was accepted at this law firm, it sure would be prestigious. The three made their way into the building, looking around in awe at the fancy, black and white, modern themed setting of the interior. As they finally got a glimpse of very corner enough to satisfy their eye's need, Afsah took initiative and walked up to the counter, followed by Augustin and Archie. 
Even at first glance, it was quite obvious that the lady behind the counter was quite irritated by their arrival. She let out a quiet groan, subtle but evident enough for the three to notice. 
"And… what may I do for you today?" She muttered, almost as though she didn't want them to notice her words.
Before answering, Afsah remained a painful silence before slowly look down at her name tag which said , 'Jenna.'
"Listen Jenna, we have an appointment for an interview here at victorie lawyers, and it would be great if you could just simply show us to a staff member here, willing to do your job for you."
Archie gulped.
Dumbfounded and stuttering, Jenna fiddles around with the piece of paper in front of her, as if she was looking for something, only to be saved by a staff who had overheard the conversation. 
"Hi, excuse me." Said a voice from behind, allowing the three to turn around and face her.
It was an average looking girl, in her early twenties with dark complexion and long, stiff, braided hair which reached just below her elbow. She was wearing a classic pencil skirt with a frilled green shirt laced with black. Her eyes were glistening underneath her thick, black eyeliner and short eyelashes. 
"My name is Za'Niyah, but you can call me Niyah." She said, honey trickling down from her words as she held out her hand to Afsah
They shook hands, for what felt like a second before Afsah moved away and brought Archie in front the two.
"This is Archith-"
"I am Architha and I had an interview today as a lawyer, here at Victorie"
"How interesting! I'm sorry about Jenna; she seems like she needs a break today." She said glancing and gritting her teeth at a very regretful Jenna. "Have a seat here and I'll let you know the next step in just a moment."
"Thank you."
The three took a seat at a circular table near a large window. The inside of the firm almost looked like an airport, shining at the very reflection of the swept floor. Plants hung down from the ceiling in small golden pots, attached by a black metallic chain, almost but not exactly reaching the sill of the windows.
"Thank you, Afsah and Augustin for coming with me here. I feel a lot more confident about this interview."
"Our pleasure", Augustin says grinning while Afsah remained quiet and deep in thought.
It was still unclear to Archie as to why Afsah was with her at that very moment but more than that, she starting to feel safer, and better. Almost as if she didn't even want a response for it.
A few minutes pass and Za'Niyah returns to the table.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for this long, but follow me inside, the manager is waiting" she said, smiling gleefully at all three of them.
"The manager?" Archie asked
"Oh yes, Christopher Torie. He was free today and thought he would interview you himself for a change." Za'Niyah replied, already walking away.
After speed walking for a minute or so, they walked up a flight of very tiring, large stairs. And another. Archie was about to give up when Za'Niyah shot a glance backwards, where Archie couldn't do anything but to smile through the pain. But after just another 2 minutes of walking (again) they reached a large black door with a sliver knob and on it hung a sign which read, 'Chirstopher Torie.' 
Archie's heart beat faster as Za'Niyah knocked on the door. She had never had an interview before in her life, and she was more pessimistic today than usual, thinking of how she would mess this up. But before she could overthink enough to run outside the building, the door opened, and Za'Niyah left, showing a thumbs up and whispering "Good luck" as she walked backwards. 
In front of them was a large man, nearly taller than Asfash. He had wet, dark, messy hair which dripped water to his forhead. He was wearing a white shirt with a maroon tie, matched with black, shiny, polished office shoes. The first three buttons of his shirt were opened, revealing the top of what seemed like a large, extremely detailed tattoo of an animal and a golden chain which shone against his neck. His shirt held tightly onto his skin, showing his very *drool* figure. Finally reaching his face, he had green, glassy eyes and dimples just like Afsah's. My point is that he was handsome. Very. Handsome. Nearly as much as Afsah. But not quite there.

If she weren’t brown, her red cheeks would have been evident but her thudding heartbeat couldn’t hide.

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