I blinked at her, “R-run? What?”

“You really shouldn’t.” The woman in front of us stared down at me, a grim note to her voice, “Better for you to stick around, I have business with you as well, I think.” Her gaze slowed shifted over towards Adeline, “Sparks, I want you to listen to me.” 

She sheathed the sword she was holding, “This won’t make things any easier -- No, I guess it’ll be harder this way.” She scratched her head for a moment, and then continued, “When you trounced the Grivash boy, put him to shame for all to see... I.” A smile had been coming to her face, one that fell with her next words. “I was really proud of you, Sparks.”

Adeline was gritting her teeth, it looked as if she were on the verge of tears.

“Even when you took off his arm, I was proud. The restraint that you showed was admirable.” She took a deep breath, “I would have taken his head if he had said those words to me, regardless of what my brother thought. It may have even been possible to get out of it, as a family. But you evaded capture -- slayed nearly two dozen men and injured more just to protect the sanctity of your actions.”

“I can’t protect you at this point. I can’t justify the things that you’ve done, Sparks. My hands are tied, I have to stop you.”

She returned her focus to me, “Now, you. I almost want to thank you for helping my niece, but…” Her gaze traveled above my head, “That hat, does it belong to you?”

I furrowed my brow, “My hat..? It.. It’s mine, yes. W-why do you ask?”

“I once met a woman who wore one that was identical to yours.” She took one step forward, and I watched as Adeline shrunk back a bit. Her hands had gone pale from how hard she was gripping her swords. The woman’s gaze wandered to Adeline for a moment, but then back to me. It had that same piercing quality as Cairbre’s.

“I-if you knew Morgan, then surely-” Adeline began, but was cut off,

“Don’t speak her name.” She put a finger up to her mouth to shush Adeline, “That Witch may just come back from the dead if you do.”

Adeline looked at her as if she’d just been struck, “W-what in the hells are you talking about..?”

“She was one of the Pioneers.” Her hand rested on the pommel of her sword, “She was gifted with incredible power and was all-too willing to use it, I saw it for myself.”

As soon as she went back to staring at me, it felt as if there were a raging inferno in front of me, threatening to roast me alive. “I heard that even in her final moments, she spoke of having a successor out there, an apprentice who would appear in her place. You’re her, then?”

Everything around me seemed to crystallize, only to clear once more. I saw it all with startling clarity. The city glittered in the distance, artificial lights they made to mimic the daylight. My mind wandered to those baths at the inn, the comfortable bed, the warm meals. The stories Cairbre would tell while acting as if he was put-off by our presence. But beneath it all, there was a warmth-- and.. I would never get to see it again. 

I was going to die here.

I nodded, “That’s me.”

She stepped back, sword pointing towards me, beckoning me, “My name is Josephine Cirix, the Commander of the Crown Hunters.”

She was being courteous before my end. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

I forced myself to stand, my legs nearly refusing from the fear coursing through me. I felt hollow, and that familiar old feeling came back once more. The world felt like a dream, and it seemed like I would wake up at any moment. My mana was nearly out, and I was woefully untrained in using the dagger at my side, even if I was, she would kill me in an instant.

My eyes met Josephine’s, and I spoke.

A year after my apprenticeship began, my master helped me in the most significant way she possibly could have. As soon as I was old enough to think about such things, I cursed the flesh that I was given. Cursed the visage that I saw in reflections. Cursed the fact that I had to curse them at all. I wanted nothing more than to change that reflection, to change the way that others saw me into the way that I wanted to be seen. 

Needed to be seen.

I knew that my body was wrong. I knew it so deeply within my core that I could never escape from it, not even within my dreams. I never thought that another living soul would understand the twisted feeling in my heart. But she did. She understood me. And she fixed me.

I laid back on a large stone disc. Deep, intricate grooves were carved into its face, acting as channels for water that flowed through it with my master’s magic. Sometimes, I could feel it brush against my hair from below. It was warm, but not hot. 

Beforehand, certain lines and patterns across my body were marked with black ink. Horizontal striped lines across my arms and legs, a spiral on either one of my palms, lines running from my ankles to each toe. Every independent pattern was connected through my master’s brushwork. Each part of me was covered in them. Over top of her work, I was wearing naught but linen veils soaked in the same water. It was just barely enough to cover my body from being exposed. They were draped over me like a fine gown.

Not far from the disc, eight pillars of stone rose from the earth, all equidistant from one another. At the top of each pillar rested a wide basin, each one connected by a channel and forming a circle around the space we resided in. She’d told me that water was running through them, as well. The only thing that illuminated the two of us were tall, flickering candles and the bright light of the moon above.

“It’s ready.” My master smiled, “All that’s left is the hard part.” She put a hand on mine, eyes full of gentleness, “Are you ready?”

I nodded.

She stepped away, softly clasping her hands together and bowing her head, as if in silent prayer. She wore a mantle made of ravens’ feathers atop a satin robe, just for the occasion. The plumage shone under the moonlight. Her body swayed, like the tide of the sea itself, “When I was born into this world, I was granted the name Morgan; she who would drink deep of the Sea of Mana and harbor its blessing within herself.”

Her hands separated from one another, left and right rising at her sides and gesturing towards the west and east. I felt the water underneath me bubble and stir ever-so slightly. Tranquil streams of magic flowed from her hands, entering into the flowing channel of the pillars. Slowly, light began to emit from the circle, casting a soft glow on the disc, and me.

Those hands rose higher, arms coiling around one another like snakes. Each movement slow and deliberate. The water in the channel began rising, ascending as if it were bound to follow her hands. A dome of water had formed around us, still spinning and glowing faintly. 

“Through the Sea of Mana you shall be reborn, my apprentice,” Her hands clasped one another again, and gentle drops of water began to fall from the dome, like rain. The sound of pitter-pattering water filled the space, and all I could do was watch the droplets fall. Normally, I would have closed my eyes instinctively. But I couldn’t tear my sight away from this. The moon and stars glittered in every bead of water, locked away in a thousand pieces.

I wasn’t worried, and I wasn’t scared in that moment. There were no anxieties about how I would turn out, no fears that it wouldn’t fix me. In that moment, I trusted her. More than I had ever trusted another soul in my entire life. 

“I grant you a new name -- Sybil.” I felt like I was on the brink of something, something deep within me being shifted and changed. Nothing else mattered except for that change. “She who will bring the future to fruition.”

“My name is Sybil Sagecrest: apprentice to Morgan, the Pioneer of Sorcery.”

Adeline shouted at Josephine, “P-please wait! At least let her go, please! Sybil hasn’t done anything wrong, she-”

“She’s the Witch’s apprentice. That’s enough reason for me. I’ll help you understand, Sparks, but not now. I can’t let another moment pass.” Josephine’s blade didn’t waver for even a second, pointed at me with a singular focus, “I won’t let another one run rampant through the people I love. Not again.”

She reaffirmed her stance, her sword glinting with potential, “Are you ready, then, Sybil Sagecrest?”

I wasn’t. I wasn’t at all ready.

“Yes.” The word came out of my mouth like frigid ice. I wasn’t. I wasn’t. I wasn’t.