THE VOID. 

It was dark yet peaceful. A place where he can pretend what an afterlife would be. 

At least to him, it did feel like what was described in books he read. Though he doubted it. Nevertheless, for the moment, it would be his afterlife, a life when his eyes closed and his mortal body asleep. Wondering in that dark world where he usually alone and occasionally met one wondering soul like him.

Yet it had been years he did not meet that soul who sometimes acknowledged his existence there. Maybe she had finally found her place in her world that was so far away from his. 

That soul – she, always sits by the pond so big that he never knows existed, and in her version of the void, she 'told' him it was made of white ceiling and white walls; trapped yet not suffocating.

Whereas his void was black and nothing else. Somehow, he envied her for that pond she had. They never really talk, not verbally. Ironically, he could understand her still.

The void that he thought was his afterlife is a dimension created between black and white, between the land and the sky, and between that world and another world. 

A place where souls that were left hanging for their sins, unwanted by the dead and no place to call their own. Even time has no rule to that dimension. It does sound harsh when he first heard it which he understood later.

It was a place for souls that kill their mortal bodies.

Slowly he opened his eyes. The sunlight that passed through the leaves that swayed left and right swished by the wind. Another moment he cherished every time he opened his eyes. The peacefulness and tranquility which later interrupted by the sound of laughter so nasty that he nearly put a curse on that voice.

He sighed heavily.

His hands that rested on his stomach were released and he let it fell to his sides. He continued to hear whatever nonsensical argument that was transpired between those youth without having any urge to interrupt them. 

By the sound of it, it seemed the one who was getting bullied was having her situation under her control until...

The young miss showed up.

Ah, drama.

He should have his tea with him if he had known this was going to happen near him. Maybe, instead of only tea, he should have scones together. That would be lovely.

When he saw that large bully was going to the young miss front hair, he immediately attached himself to the tree branch that he was lazily laying to, making him look like Gibbon at a zoo. He had sensed from miles away, a magic surge so fast that he has to thank the stars that he didn't fall off from the tree and make a fool of himself. Not like certain someone who dared to anger that person by touching his proud person.

Really, that Kai kid had it coming.

He heaved an exhausted sighed.

He should get ready now. Any minute Stella would be left alone after that group of bullies went away and followed by a weirdly-satisfied-angry kid. Youth, such an unfamiliar word on his dictionary. One that never existed until that day. The day that his fate finally took a turn.

Before that, he had to enchant a few things first. He doesn't want Stella's errand boy to come running here ruining his plan.

Slowly, he dropped his body on the flat earth. Flexible and smooth. Not a sound heard. Even Stella didn't even notice his arrival.

"Afternoon miss," he called with his usual smile.

"Mr. Knight," she replied politely.

Her reaction did not show any kind of changes, as if she had anticipated his whereabouts. Her lack of emotion somehow has become her weapon with a two-sided blade. Yet, in her unfazed greeting, he saw a slight tremble at her hands. It was momentarily but progress that he had wanted to see though, the trigger was not what he had in mind.

I mean, a school fight?

Nonetheless, the result what was important.

"EF-FAN, miss. I thought we had agreed on that," he said jokingly.

She stared at him blankly. "Ah, sorry."

"Said it as you mean it, miss."

"I am sorry, Mr. Knight," she said doing the same mistake with the same monotone-like voice of her. "I mean Ef–"

He held up his hand. He bit his lips. "It's okay, miss." 

People said the third time was a charm and he somehow wanted to give up being so persistent on a trivial thing like this.

"Now," he redirected his topic. He lifted his finger and flicked it once towards Stella's pinafore pocket.

As on cue, her hand wanders to her filled pocket. "What is this?" she asked.

"You've met Mrs. Trimme I presumed. So, this is your first task, miss. Deliver my message to whoever name written there then, meet me after today's classes end. You know where is my office right, miss?"

She nodded twice. "Yes."

Effan head perked up. A thin smile formed. "Someone's anxious," he said.

"Yes?"

An idea popped inside his head. A nasty one. "Say, miss?"

Although hidden, Effan somehow could picture Stella's blinking her curious eyes.

"Can you give me your hand, miss?" he asked while he held out his right hand.

Obediently, Stella gave him her right hand.

He clasped her hand carefully. It felt familiar. A shadow of that small hand he always saw, then had become a reality to him. Stella's hand-fitted him perfectly. 

Slowly he placed himself near her and he whispered to her ear, "close your eyes and count to three."

The enchantment that he had put around them started to waver. That person had found them.

"1," he counted.

"2," she relayed.

Just as their little bubble world dissolved, he grinned wolfishly to that errand boy who must have run away from his class since his protective spell had activated by Kai. "3."

They warped away and the only thing that was able to reach them was Gitto's desperate call, "Stella!"

STELLA could have sworn that she heard Gitto's voice but as soon as she opened her eyes, she was in a completely different place and alone. She was in a girl's locker room together with Citra.

"How did you..." Citra said with her mouth agape. She was in her undies, ready to change into sweatpants and t-shirt.

"Why are you changing?" Stella asked. As far as she knows, her next class would be in an hour so why did Citra change her clothes so early? And why was she there, in the changing room?

Citra quickly put on her shirt and sweatpants. "It's Owen's class, Ghotham. You don't want to get kicked out again don't you."

Owen?

Stella swirled around trying to find the clock inside the room. It's 2.30 p.m.

"So, tell me, how did you apparate here? Because you don't have magic and Gitto is a student. No student allowed to apparate. So how?" Citra asked again after she settled down on one of the benches.

Stella questions herself too. 

If she did apparate it must have been because of Effan but to have skipped an hour? But then, she remembered the task Effan gave her. Quickly she fished it out.

A blank folded paper with a name on its back.

"Yea... great. Nice talking to you too, Ghotham. I enjoyed this one-sided conversation," Citra grumbled away and out of the girl's locker room.

Stella followed Citra into the gym and she was bombarded with the twin question or more precisely Jacq Wisdoms. Jill just stood beside him, sour face but still beautiful.

"Where you've been? We've been searching for you and you just showed up now?" Jacq interrogated her like a mother hen. He looked for any possible wound or scratch.

"Do you know how worried we are? How worried your friend is? He's been running around like a mad man searching for you."

"He was?"

"Yes, and he was detained by one of the professors for disturbing the classes. He kept saying that Effan kidnap you and so on that, I don't want to tell you because he sounded like a mad man," Jacq continued.

She did hear Gitto's voice then. She needs to help Gitto but first, "Here," she gave the paper to Jacq.

"What's this?"

Stella shook her head. "I was tasked to deliver it."

"By whom?" he asked not caring for the content of the paper since it was intended for Jill.

Jill took it from his hand and unfolded it. Her facial expression changed. She pushed the paper back to her twin. "It's for you. That bastard played a trick on us," she whispered between her gritted teeth.

And they continued to chatter between themselves with hushed voices. Sometimes, they would look at her and something inaudible for her ear to pick up. They might as well had created their own hemisphere.

Whatever it is, she had done her part and it was easy. Though she doesn't understand the reason behind this simple task, what matters to her at the moment was Gitto's whereabout.

She saw Citra stood near them, together with Donne. The whole class members were there waiting for Owen.

"Citra," she called.

That girl feigned ignorance of her call.

"Citra," Stella tried again and this time she made sure that she stood in front of that girl.

"Oh, what? Now you decide you want to talk to me? Finally, you can see me hah?" Citra commented.

"I'm sorry." As usual, no matter how snarky the comment was.. it never pricked her heart.

Both Citra and Donne bore an expression of disgust. "Just get on with it. What do you want?"

"Do you know where Gitto is?"

Citra snorted. "How should I know."

"Last time I heard, he's in the detention," Donne offered.

Then he might be on his way to class now or...

"Can you help me?"

"What's the matter?"

Stella looked behind her. It was Jacq asking and it seemed like the twins had finished their discussion. "I want to send a paper bird to Gitto."

"Let me help you." Jacq's hand was readied to procure a paper and a pen when a voice stopped him from doing so.

"Until when are you gonna depend on people, Ghotham?"

All heads turned to the top bench above them. The voice was deep baritone like a morning latte yet his expression was darker than the latte itself. It was like that morning he got up from the wrong side of the bed except he was like that every day.

A gentle hand was holding her wrist and it gave her a push to stand firm on her ground. It was the same sensation she had felt back when Jacq shake her hand. "I don't have magic sir," she replied.

"Then why are here in my class?" his voice thundered as loud as her heartbeat was. It made her flinched for the first time.

Stella stole a glance at Jacq. Looking at her friend's grim face. What should she do now? Does she want to get kicked out of the class just like last week?

A foreign rhythm thumping her vein straight to her heart. It shrank a little. "I," her voice quivered and it sounded strange. It was not like her own.

"I what Ghotham? This is war and defenses class and you don't have single basic magic. So, what are you doing here?"

"I..." 

Tear formed in the brink of her eyes. She wanted to hide somewhere but her feet were heavy and her hands were shaking. She held on to Jacq.

"I..." 

Why can't she speak even when she had a proper excuse to tell Owen? Somehow, he looked so big and tall standing above her, that she somehow had turned small and frail. 

What was happening to her?

Her world started to spin and when the instructor's voice boomed calling her name, it sounded so distant and far away. This time there was no knight to catch her or so she thought.