Heila’s fingers ran through the young girl’s silky black hair, urging it to keep it in place, to keep it all together. But her hair was so smooth, it kept slipping away. She felt each and every strand graze her skin, through the gaps between her fingers, shying away, disobedient.
Each strand of hair left a longing smell of fresh jasmine, the fainting scent of her shampoo. A shudder ran through her spine as it slowly dawned on her…
She shook her head as she forced herself back to the task at hand. She picked up the comb she had placed on a chair by her side and ran it through those rebellious black strands of hair, finally giving her a good grip to clasp it all in a decent bun.
The tip of the comb tickled the girl’s neck and the sudden contact with her skin made her jump ever so slightly, but enough for Heila to notice.
Yet, the girl stayed still, her back facing her and her bare shoulders straightened up.
It’s been eight years… Eight years since that night.
The night when Heila had agreed to take her in and sworn to keep her safe, even if the odds were against her.
She remembered it was her first day after her graduation from the Academy and she had just turned eighteen. She had barely become an adult herself, yet she had been tasked right away to take care of a ten-year-old girl…
Though not any ordinary ten-year-old girl…
One who was destined to destroy the world… again.
A ticking time bomb… without a definite countdown.
“I must warn you that you’re doomed to fail, Heila.”
This was what she was told eight years ago when she had gone to pick up the little girl at Mr Clark’s house. Or should she call him by his true name?
Mr… Mastermind of Truth.
Young and naive, she had scoffed at his words. She remembered the rough and cold surface of the round wooden table she had been leaning on. Through a small mirror that hung on the wall, she had caught a glimpse of her own messy chestnut brown hair and the fierce glare in her emerald eyes.
Before that night, for the past two years, she had been taught and trained in the most elitist and rigorous Writers’ Academy… and she had always come out at the top.
She had never failed.
Wasn’t this the whole point of delegating this mission to her?
The Mastermind of Truth had held her gaze, unfazed.
Of course, it was well-known that his prophecies always proved to be true. He was the one and only being in this world who could predict the future.
His words always spoke… the Truth.
He was an invaluable hire, an irreplaceable power, a helpful tool for The Oracles—the trinity of ethereal beings whose sole aim was to maintain peace and harmony on this planet… and prevent the apocalypse from happening yet again.
The last one had completely annihilated their home planet.
“Then I guess I’ll die trying. That’s what we, Writers, always do anyway. Risking our lives to change what’s written so that YOU can live your everyday lives like Humans. Look at you living in this affluent neighbourhood with your wife and daughters,” Heila had replied.
She knew the words had come out of her mouth with more bitterness than she would have liked. But she had sacrificed too much…
The Oracles’ plan had to work.
Truth had laughed.
“Is that so? Wait until you see the penthouse The Oracles have prepared for you for this mission.”
“Except I’ll be using it to host and train the most powerful and dangerous Masterminds of the entire planet… in the hopes that they don’t turn against one another in the end.”
He had shrugged at her comment.
“Whatever happens, you know you won’t die. You’re protected.”
She could never forget the stare he had given her then. His golden eyes had pierced through her soul…
…digging…
…dragging her bare self out from the inner fortress she had worked so hard to build.
Of course… of course, he knew everything. He held the Truth of the entire universe in his palms.
She had stepped back with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Hah, so you’re saying that even if I don’t stop the end of this world, I’ll still live?”
He had smirked. “I suppose. You know I can’t elaborate too much on what’s going to happen. Except for exactly how it’s going to end.”
There, his prophecy again. The prophecy that had been bothering The Oracles for the past ten years, ever since that little girl was born…
A cuckoo clock sang. It hung over the fridge next to them.
Midnight, it read.
Why did he even keep a cuckoo clock? It was such a stark contrast to the modern interior of the two-storey house…
“This clock reminds me of the present. It keeps me grounded. Sometimes, I get so lost in the future that I lose all sense of self… Sometimes it feels like I’m living in a curse.”
His eyes had softened and started to wander past her shoulders.
She followed his gaze: there, on the leather couch, a little girl was sleeping soundly, wrapped in a blanket, her small face hidden by her long black hair.
This frail-looking girl was none other than the Mastermind of Chaos.
The destroyer of worlds.
“How is she?”
“She fell asleep as soon as I took her in. She’s probably in shock. It’s been a long night for her.”
At that moment, they had looked back at each other. Truth had then handed her a small backpack. He had gathered whatever remained of her belongings in it.
“Well, this is it. She’s under your care now.”
Sigh.
“Was that really the only plan The Oracles could have come up with?”
“I believe it was the best alternative for Them to keep her safe while also keeping her under Their control. They’ll be watching closely, as you know it.”
The girl had curled up into the couch and looked so small, so innocent, so… human.
Yet only a few hours ago, her little eyes and hands had destroyed an entire secret base, turning several buildings into dust. Not to mention the people who had been there…
“Raise her well and we will hopefully see this world survive.”
“I thought you said I’m doomed to fail.”
“Of course, you are. She’s Chaos incarnated. She’ll be very hard to control once her powers reach their full potential. If I tell an actor to break a leg before a performance, it doesn’t mean they will break their leg.”
She had rolled her eyes at him.
“Thanks for the encouragement anyway. So, does she have a name?”
“Nya. Her parents named her Nya before they died.”
And now, how time had flown; Nya had just turned eighteen and was getting ready for her first ball: a year-end tradition her school hosted for the final-year students.
“Done,” Heila said as she put down the comb.
Nya stood up and stared at her reflection in the mirror beside her. She was wearing a strapless black dress that draped over her body all the way to her ankles. The silky fabric was pleated from the waist down and swirled around her legs as she moved.
Heila bit her lip. The little girl she once knew now looked like a queen.
She took out the silver necklace she had been hiding in her pocket and placed it around Nya’s neck.
Nya jumped at its cold touch.
“Cherry on top.”
“Heila… you didn’t have to…”
The pendant was in the shape of an eclipse: a silver crescent moon over a black-marbled sphere. It matched the star-studded silver earrings she already had on.
“It’s your early graduation gift, so don’t worry about it.”
After she was done fastening the necklace around her neck, Heila couldn’t help but place her hands on her shoulders and stare at both of their reflection in the mirror.
Nya was staring too. Her outfit was stunning… It stood out against Heila’s purple camisole and plain pair of pants, and the dull, messy bedroom, with clothes, makeup and accessories all over the place.
Heila felt this sudden urge to wrap her arms around her, but instead, she let go of her shoulders and took a step back, feigning to check on her hair bun.
“Great, we’re done,” she said. “Now, let’s go get the boys.”
She went to the door but Nya didn’t move.
“Heila…”
“Hmm?”
Nya turned towards her.
“How do I… really look… to you?”
Heila’s grip tightened around the door knob. She could barely hear the words that came out of her mouth…
“I think you look beautiful, Nya.”
…as her resounding heartbeat echoed through her chest all the way up to her ears.
Then she dashed out of the room.
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