◆ Sienna ◆

Pain.

It’s the first thing I recognize as consciousness slowly returns to me. Every inch of my body aches, as if I’ve been thrown from the highest tower of the castle and somehow survived the fall. Even the simple act of breathing sends waves of agony through my chest.

What happened..?

I shift and realize with a start I’m lying on something hard and cold. 

Stone? The floor of the crafting room?

With great effort, I force my eyes open, only to squeeze them shut again as the world spins dizzyingly around me.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Slowly, carefully, I try again. This time, the room stays relatively still, though the edges of my vision are blurry. Just as I thought, I’m on the floor of the crafting room, surrounded by… destruction. Tables overturned, glass shattered, scorch marks on the walls.

And then it hits me. A memory, vivid and overwhelming, crashing over me:

I stood there, before the transmutation circle, my heart pounding in my ears. The raw materials—lead, mercury, sulfur, sitting innocently in their respective places. 

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and reached out with my senses, feeling the elements laid out in front of me. The soil from Zion, water from Salem, Galilea fire, and the air of Bethel kissing my skin. 

I drew on my power, feeling it build within me. It coursed through my veins, something hot and electric. My hands began to glow with an otherworldly light as I channeled the energy into the circle.

The air grew thick, heavy and suffocatingly so. The hairs on my arms stood on end. And in that moment, I felt connected to everything—the castle, the island, the very fabric of reality itself.

And with a final surge of will, I released the power.

The world exploded into light and sound. Raw energy crackled through the air, so intense it felt like it might tear me apart. I screamed, the sound torn from my lungs by the sheer force of the transmutation. It felt like I was being unmade and remade, molecule by molecule.

Through the maelstrom, I saw it forming—a red glow at the center of the circle, growing brighter and brighter until it was painful to look at. The Stone took its shape, condensing centuries of alchemical knowledge and power into a single, perfect form.

And then, nothing. Darkness engulfed me, and now, I’m lying here.

I lost consciousness.

But the Stone. I crafted the Philosopher's Stone. 

And I survived.

…

I’m alive.

The realization fills me with adrenaline, momentarily overriding the pain. I push myself up, my arms trembling. My gaze is drawn inexorably to the crafting station, and there, amidst the chaos, I see it.

The Stone.

It sits on the table, a bright red jewel that seems to pulse with an inner light. Even from here, I can feel the power radiating from it, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It calls to me.

With shaking hands, I reach out and grasp the Stone. The moment my fingers touch it, I gasp. It’s warm, almost hot, and I can feel it pulsing in time with my own heartbeat. Power flows from it into me, through me, as if recognizing its creator.

I did it. I actually did it.

A hysterical laugh bubbles in my throat, but it’s cut short as I notice the state of the room around me. Deep cracks run through the walls and ceiling, a testament to the raw power unleashed in the Stone’s creation. It’s a miracle the whole castle didn’t come down.

In the next moment, as if summoned by thought, I hear it—banging on the door, the shouts of guards. And then, a voice that makes my blood run cold.

“Sienna! Open this door now!”

My father.

The initial elation of my success evaporates in an instant, replaced by a cold, hard fear. 

I have to run. 

Now.

I scramble to my feet, ignoring the aching of my muscles. The Stone goes into one pocket of my pants, the vial of the Elixir of Immortality into the other, both hidden beneath my cloak. My eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape route.

There—a window. It’s high up, but if I can reach it…

I clamber onto one of the few remaining intact crafting stations, my fingers scrabbling at the window latch. It’s stuck fast, probably warped from the energy released by the Stone’s creation.

“Sienna!” My father’s voice is closer now, snarling. I can feel the power of his alchemy trying to break through the seal I placed on the door. It won’t hold much longer, I know it. “What have you done? Open this door now!”

“I’m sorry, father,” I whisper, though I know he can’t hear me. Then, steeling myself, I ball my hand into a fist and punch through the glass raw.

Pain lances through my hand as shards slice into my skin, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I clear away the remaining glass and haul myself up and through the window.

The cool night air hits me as I tumble out onto the castle roof. Below me, I can hear shouts, see torches being lit in the courtyard. 

They know something’s wrong, but they don’t know what. Not yet.

Without a second thought, I take off running on the slick tiles of the roof. Years of sneaking out have made me adept at this route, but never have I taken it with this much desperation.

Careful. One wrong slip and this’ll all have been for nothing.

As I reach the edge of the roof, I don’t hesitate. I leap, using every ounce of my enhanced strength to propel me forward. For a heart-stopping moment, I’m airborne, the ground sickeningly far below. Then I hit the branch of the old oak tree.

The impact jars every bone in my body, but I don’t slow down. 

I can’t. 

I scramble down the tree and take off running into the forest that borders the castle grounds.

Behind me, I can hear the clanging of alarm bells, shouts of confusion and anger. And something else—howls. The Galilean warriors have released their beasts, the rare and vicious creatures—grizzly wolves.

My heart pounds in my chest, each beat seeming to whisper: Faster, faster, faster.

I run like I’ve never run before, the blood of royalty in my veins giving me speed, strength, and stamina beyond that of the average Elonian. But it’s barely a match against Galileans, against the true beastmasters and their familiars. I can hear them behind me—the padding of paws, the snap of jaws.

The wolves are gaining.

I burst out of the treeline and into a ravine, the rocky ground uneven under my feet. But I don’t slow down. 

I can’t. 

To slow is to die.

A howl splits the air, closer than the others. I risk a glance back and my heart nearly stops. A massive wolf is running along the top of the ravine, parallel to me. As I watch, it gathers itself and leaps.

Time seems to slow. I can see every detail—the wolf’s powerful muscles bunching, its teeth bared in a snarl, its eyes locked on me. It’s going to catch me. It’s going to—

No. I didn’t come this far to die here.

I plant my foot and pivot, gathering all my strength. As the wolf descends, I jump to meet it, twisting in the air. My foot connects with its side, and I feel ribs give way under the impact. The wolf lets out a yelp of pain as it’s knocked off course, tumbling down into the ravine.

I land hard, the breath knocked out of me, but I force myself back to my feet. 

I can’t stop. 

Not yet.

I run until my lungs burn and my legs feel like they’re on fire. But finally, finally, I see it—the edge of Bethel. And there, hidden in the shadows, is the entrance to the tunnels that run beneath the waters dividing the islands of Atlantis.

My heart sinks as I spot the guards posted at the entrance, watching, waiting.

Of course, it’s guarded.

…

Damn it!

I duck behind a large boulder, my mind racing. I can’t take them head-on. I know it. Not in my current state. But I can’t turn back either. The howls of the wolves are getting closer by the second.

There’s only one option.

With trembling hands, I reach into my pocket and pull out the Stone. Its warm glow pulses against my palm. I’m not ready for this, I know. I’m not ready to draw on this kind of power. I haven’t recovered from creating it, let alone learned to control it.

I don’t have a choice.

I close my eyes, focusing on the Stone, feeling its energy flow into me. For a moment, it’s overwhelming, threatening to consume me. But I grit my teeth and push through, forcing the energy to bend at my will.

I focus on the air around me, the wind blowing softly, and I command it. The Stone pulses brighter, as if eager to comply.

Taking a deep breath, I step out from behind the boulder. The guards spot me immediately, shouting and drawing their weapons. 

But they’re too late.

With a gesture that feels both foreign and innate, I unleash the power of the Stone. The air around us comes alive, whipping into a frenzy. I see the guards’ eyes widen in shock and fear as their feet leave the ground.

In a heartbeat, they hang suspended, and then—

I push.

The guards are flung backwards. They slam into the rock face on either side of the tunnel entrance, slumping to the ground, unconscious.

The backlash of the power nearly knocks me off my feet. I stagger, my vision hazy, but I force myself to stay upright. I can’t falter. Not now.

With the last of my strength, I stumble towards the tunnel entrance. As I pass the prone forms of the guards, a wave of guilt washes over me. I never wanted to hurt anyone. It was never part of the plan.

But it’s too late for regrets now.

I throw myself into the tunnel entrance, tumbling down into darkness. I lie there for a moment, gasping for breath, my entire body screaming, aching. The Stone pulses in my hand, a constant force.

I’m not safe yet. I need to go deeper.

Pushing myself up, I raise the Stone in my hand. Its warm glow illuminates the dank tunnel around me. With a thought, I direct its power towards the burnt-out torches lining the walls. They come alive, flames dancing in hues of blue and green.

The raw power flowing through me is intoxicating. I can create fire from nothing, summon water from dry air, command the very elements themselves. 

Is this how the Reaper feels? 

This power… it feels endless, an abysmal ocean of pure, raw energy.

I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. Right now, I need to survive. My new abilities won’t matter if I don’t make it somewhere safe. Somewhere me and the Stone won’t be found.

So I press on, deeper into the tunnels, until I reach a crossroads. Three paths stretch out before me, the crossroad from the map I branded into my memory, the crossroad that leads to Zion, Salem, and Babylon. I pause, listening. In the distance, I can hear the echoes of howls and barking. 

They’re still coming.

My hand goes to my pocket, my fingers closing around me vial with the elixir. 

I know what I have to do.

Now, it’s time.

With trembling hands, I hold both the Stone and elixir. The Stone pulses in my palm, as if it knows what’s coming. As if it can read me. I focus all of its power inward, compressing it, concentrating it.

A blinding light erupts from the Stone, so bright it hurts to look at. The heat is too much, searing my palms, but I don’t let go. I can’t let go. Not until—

Crack!

The stone shatters into a million glittering shards in my hand. But even like this, I can feel the power thrumming through each tiny piece.

I’m almost there.

Quickly, I uncork the vial from the elixir. The liquid inside seems to shift and swirl, glowing a deep purple, almost black. As I pour the shards of the Stone into the elixir, it starts heating up, the glass vial growing warm in my hand.

This is it. No going back now.

Without hesitation, I bring the vial to my lips and drink.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then—

Pain. Unimaginable, all-consuming pain.

It feels like every cell in my body is being torn apart and put back together, a pain even more intense than the crafting of the Stone itself. I fall to my knees, unable to hold back a scream of agony that echoes through the tunnels. My vision blurs, the world around me dissolving into a kaleidoscope of color and shadow.

No. I won’t die. 

I. Will. Not. Die.

Through the haze of pain, I’m dimly aware of changes happening to my body. My hair, falling in front of my face, lighens from brown to white. My skin, once sun-kissed and warm, grows pale.

But the howls are getting closer. I have to move. I have to run.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I force myself to my feet. The tunnels spin around me, blurring together. 

Which one is it?! Which one leads to Salem?

…

Go. Just go!

I pick a direction at random and start running. Each step is agony, but I push through it. I have to. The alternative is unthinkable.

I can’t go back. I won’t.

I can see light ahead—the end of the tunnel. 

Just a little further. Just a little—

The world tilts sideways. Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision. 

No… Not now. I’m so close. So…

Then, darkness.