Her bare feet slap against the concrete ground, the sound second only to her heavy breathing that echoes throughout the ghost of the city. She keeps running but only sees the ruins of concrete buildings with shattered windows and fallen structures.

‘Where is this place? It seems familiar but at the same time it doesn’t.’

She keeps up the run as her white dress twists around her thighs and her hair streams behind her like long gold ribbons. Sweat moistens her bangs, making them stick to her forehead as she pumps her tired arms. She’s suddenly thankful that the dress is sleeveless as it gives her more mobility and keeps her cool, though her lungs are burning like fire. But she still continues to run. Run, run, run – to some destination she still doesn’t know. Or is she running from something?

‘How long have I been here?’

Her sense of time and space is warped. Disjointed. She can’t tell if she’s been running for a mile or a marathon and everything looks exactly the same.

‘Who am I?’

Nothing she knows comes to mind except for the letter “C”. How does she even know that letter anyway? How could she know that, but not know where, when, or who she is?

‘What am I?’

She hasn't seen another living soul for the entire time she’s been here. If she’s any kind of species, she can’t remember the name of it. But she knows that if she’d hear it, she’d remember.

‘I don’t know!’

The sun rises over Terra, the city bustling with morning commuters and businesses opening their doors to patrons. Some step out on the balconies of their apartments to water their plants, while others sit to drink coffee and enjoy their morning paper in the warm, moist weather that only a day in mid-May can have. 

Elen stomps her black Mary-Janes as she dashes down the street, cursing under her breath all the while and hoping nobody notices her school uniform in perfect disarray. Her canvas bag bumps painfully against her hip as she maneuvers the path, making the pentacle pendant on her choker swing wildly.

She curses again as she dodges fellow pedestrians on the sidewalk. “Sorry!” she calls out behind her to a young, red-haired man before turning back to her frenzied rush.

She scans her AIDCard at the train station and then leaps two steps at a time down the stairs. Relieved that she’s on time for her train, Elen makes her way to the closest car. The doors close, snagging her long black skirt which she yanks out before scanning the car’s seats.

She settles on one of the blessedly empty seats before pulling out her compact and combing out her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and straightening her black headband. She puts the mirror away to fix the buttons on her white blouse, tightens the black tie, then straightens her black vest. She then moves the pentacle choker to its proper position before finally laying her bag back on her lap and taking a deep breath.

*GROWL*

Elen’s face grows hot from the passingly curious glances from the other passengers in the car. She shouldn’t have been so distracted by the news station this morning while she was getting ready.

‘The muffins at the station’s café are good. I’ll just buy one and a drink when I—‘

“Here.” Elen glances to her left to see a package of two madeleines appear in front of her. “You can have these.”

She looks up to see a young man with disheveled brown hair and light brown eyes smiling down at her, holding the little cakes. The logo is one that she’s never seen before, but nevertheless takes the package with a “thank you”. Elen opens the plastic and takes a bite of the first madeleine.

“These are really good,” she  praises. Humming in pleasure, she finishes the first madeleine and takes out the second.

The young man smiles wider as he takes the free seat next to her. “I’m glad. I’m the new pâtissier at Café Aphaea. My friend just opened it.”

“You baked this?”

“I graduated from the Hestia Cooking Institute this past March.”

‘Oh. That explains why it’s so tasty. The cooks that train there are second-to-none.’ She folds the now empty plastic wrapper and stuffs it in her bag to throw away later.

“Is that a Terra Performing Arts High School uniform?”

Elen nods and swallows the last of the madeleine. “I’m a second year. I’m majoring in music and dancing.”

“I see. You must work hard… um…” The man scans her bag and focuses on one corner of the flap. “‘Magdelene Grace Magnum’? Lovely name.”

“Thanks. I prefer to be called ‘Elen’, though.”

“Alright. My name is Fredrick Xavier Reynolds. If you ever come by the café, just ask for me and I’ll let you have a dessert on the house.”

“I just may take you up on that offer.”

“Nidaba Station!” yells the conductor, “Nidaba Station!”

Elen says, “That’s me,” and stands to grasp the handle above her.

When the train stops completely, Fredrick speaks up, “I hope we can meet again.”

Elen turns to look at him once more. There’s something about him…

“Perhaps.”

She follows the crowd out of the train’s car onto the platform and climbs the stairs to the street.

*Ring… Ring…*

“Fredrick?”

“David. I’ve met her.”

“You have?” David’s voice is still its usual soft, wispy tone, but Fredrick can hear a hint of excitement. “Is she as I have seen?”

“I believe you’re right when you said that she’ll herald a new age. The power I felt from her is greater than even yours.”

“Very good. Be careful in Grove Park tonight. She’ll prove it then.”

“Right, I will. Thank you, David.”

Fredrick ends the call and slips the phone back into his pocket. A woman plops down on the seat Elen had vacated and pulls on her shirt collar in an attempt to cool herself off. Fredrick notes that her brunette hair is disheveled, very different from its normal, immaculate state.

“There’s definitely a great amount of Celestial Power from her,” she says. “But you know perfectly well that it ultimately depends on her Will, whether she can change Earth the way Goddess says she’s supposed to. I don’t know if she’s even able to do that.”

Fredrick laughs and rests his head against the train seat. “You say that, Mystia, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. We’ll just have to trust her.”

Mystia elbows Fredrick. How could he be so lax at a time like this? “You need to shape up.” She reaches in her purse to pull out a card that faintly glows. “I know better than anyone else to leave our fates in the hands of the gods, but we need to be more proactive in this situation.”

Fredrick rubs at his sore ribs, lips pursed. “David has prophesied this more than once and it always comes out the same. How do you think we found you, and restored your memories?” Mystia’s eyebrows furrow, unable to say a word in retaliation. Fredrick simply puts a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mystia. Everything will work out just fine.”

“Daikoku Station!” the conductor calls again. “Daikoku Station!”

Fredrick stands after the train grinds to a halt, looking back to Mystia with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. He mentally shrugs when she returns it with a glare and disembarks the car.

When the train moves again, Mystia drops her head into her hand and rubs at her temple. They’re here. In the same city. That is going to start and now they will be powerless to prevent it. If even one of them would have just stayed away…

“I hope so, Rick. I really, really hope so.”

Elen cringes internally when she slips on a high note. Why is it always that one part of the song that she’s having so much trouble with, no matter how much she keeps practicing? Is she not practicing enough? Elen already practices at least two hours a day outside of school.

Jessie huffs at the soundboard, twirling a lock of her red hair and bored out of her mind. Alex diligently turns the knobs this way and that to adjust the sound while Reggie kicks back without a care in the world. Seriously, how did she get roped into this group?

Jessie sighs and leans her head into her hand. “This is, like, Elen’s sixth take. And the due date for this assignment is coming up! How many more times until she's satisfied? I’m getting sick of this song.”

“‘If you don’t put 120% into something, you might as well not do it at all’,” Reggie says without opening his eyes. “She’s determined and deadly serious about her singing. Something you should try in order to get a better grade.”

Jessie’s cheeks flare as rosy red as her hair. Sure, her grades aren’t the best, but she’s passing, isn’t she? “Practice what you preach, Reggie! You’re in the costume department anyway, so why are you here instead of working on your own quarterly project?”

“I’m here to make sure Elen doesn’t keel over after putting in that 120%,” Reggie replies. That hadn’t been a fun day. “Besides, I’m already done with mine. A beautiful gown Marie Antoinette would have drooled over. So I’m allowed to be here. Right Alex?”

“Yeah,” Alex affirms, twisting one more knob. “But you guys know that Elen has that shadow program tonight so we should wrap this up.” When the song ends, Alex presses a button on the intercom to get Elen’s attention. “We’ve done enough for today. Let's pick it up later.”

Elen glances at her watch and sees how late it’s gotten. ‘Oh, right. And I’d forgotten my guitar this morning.’ She takes off her headphones before exiting the soundproof room and grabbing her bag from an unoccupied chair. “Good work today!” She calls out.

“Break a leg, darling!” Reggie shouts back.

Thankfully it doesn’t take too long for Elen to get back home, the rush hour traffic having already died down. She arrives back at her apartment and makes a beeline to her bedroom to strip off her uniform. After changing into a pair of shorts and a short-sleeve shirt. She slips her dog-tags back under her shirt, and debates whether or not to bring a jacket.

‘Better safe than sorry,’ Elen decides, and snatches her denim jacket from her closet before slipping into sneakers and shouldering her guitar case. Satisfied that she’s ready, she  exits her apartment.