Ivy isn't there, when I turn again, neither is Grace, or Margo. “Guys?” I groan. The lack of my friends isn't the only weird thing, though. The halls look older, there are portraits of people I don’t recognise, with candlesticks and no electricity. “Guys!” I shout again. Black, sticky looking vines decorate the walls, climbing over every surface. Without any confirmation, I know I'm alone. I slowly creep forward, down the hall. “GUYS!” I yell. Under my breath, I mutter curses. Looking over my shoulder every twenty paces, I parade the halls dramatically. Whatever this is, it's some kind of trick. Someone's messing with me. That’s the only explanation. Meaning, if this is psychic there would be personal mementos to whoever was doing this. When you're trying to break inside of someone else, to see their fears, you have to expose yours. Anything could show me what this is. In this dreamscape, or nightmare land, if you will. I feel energy coursing through my veins, the way people describe how magix feels. Weird. I can't do much magix, I've never been able to. Can I do magix in a dream? Is this a dream? Thinking of the candlesticks coating the walls, I think of the heat fire possesses, think of its spark, seeing the gentle glow of light in this cold, damp replica of Grimrose. Another candle flashes sparks when I wave my hand, the energy not dampening like it normally does whenever I attempt magix. A devilish grin escapes my mouth. If I can do magix that means…
I think of this place, the portraits, waiting for a way into the other person's mind. Even though I personally can’t do much magix, I've studied every single book on how to use it. A face flies into view, a man, who reeks of death. This whole place does. I push harder, seeing his dark black hair, scruffy beard and deadly eyes. His broad shoulders. I put him at late twenties. He walks with confidence, with an oddly familiar step. I reel him in closer, transporting him into this mental prison. His eyes light with surprise as his feet land evenly on the floor infrount of me, his steps echoing against the hall. “Well, well, Eliza, I must say I've never had anyone do that before,” he says, regaining his balance as I glare at him. My dark anger makes the candles that still burn rise. “Let me out of here,” I say sternly. He laughs, a full-on, head back, shoulder shaking, laugh. “Oh Eliza, I don’t need to do anything. Just let yourself out. You know you can." He takes a step closer. I copy his motion. I continued forward, now only 15 feet away from him. “Who the hell are you?” I demand, pushing the flames off their candlesticks. The fire rolls onto the oil paintings that don the walls. He smiles, looking away from me. “I'm like you,” he says while making eye contact. 10 feet. “And who is that, exactly?” I question. 5 feet. The flames grow, and I don’t stop them. “Eliza, do you realize you're using elemental magix?” he comments. That made me stop. Only members of the Kari can use elemental magix. This is a mindscape with so many things on the board. It wasn’t real. Besides, he's just trying to screw with me. This is all a dream. “Before you think to ask, no, I'm not letting you have special powers in here,” he states plainly. “I'm simply showing you what you can do if you let yourself. If you stop being so scared about what you can do,” he says mockingly. 2 feet. “You expect me to believe you,” I state. He laughs. It's a disgusting sound. “No, I do not. I’m simply showing you who you could be. I’m giving you a little taste, so you’ll crave more,” he murmurs, power reaping off of his voice. Suddenly, it feels like there is no more air in the room. It's a trick, Eliza, break out of it. I smile grimly and push him away, bringing air back into the room. That was easier than I thought. But then his smile disappears. He raises his arms and pushes black smoke towards me. Gasping for breath, I put up my hand, caught off guard by this unexpected hostility. Who the hell is he? An inky, golden symbol spreads onto my palm, deferring the smoke away from me. I raise my other hand and push him away again, lifting him off of the ground. He looks at me, shocked. “Never underestimate me,” I say as I push him again. “Just because outside of this I have very little magix doesn't mean I won’t kick your ass in here.” I swipe away his second attempt to send a slicing shard of darkness towards me. He stares at me, mouth parted, anger boiling in his eyes. I continue walking towards him as he slowly stumbles backwards, conflicted about what to do. He makes the mistake of settling on speaking. “This is all a game, Eliza. And you’re already losing,” he says as I pull a gooey vine around his legs. “The one thing you should never do is assume you'll win,” I spit as I wrapped another vine over his torso. “If it's a challenge you want, if the real world is too easy for you,” I continue, wondering if I'm going too far. I have no idea who this guy is, but he knows me. No. He has to let me back, release me from this hell. “Tell me who you are,'' I reply, giving him a little slack by dropping my previous topic. “You already know who I am, Eliza. We've met before, before all of this,” he says gesturing to the dreamscape. “I didn’t bring you here. You transported yourself, I just gave you a door. You’re not as non-magical as you like to believe,” he says calmly, still evading my question. I'm so confused. I can do magix. Well. No, I tell myself. This is a dream. I take in his features once more. He's so familiar, and that's when it hit me. Immediately after I realize, I tighten the vines around him. “Michel,”I say, the name like mud on my tongue. The destroyed paintings, burned to a crisp, crashed to the ground behind me.
“It can't be,'' I add simply, placing another vine around his torso as he struggles to free himself. “If I were like you, if you are actually who I think you are, you’d be able to kick my ass in no time,” I state. And with one swish, I'm proven correct. He releases himself from the vines just before I push him 20 feet backwards, my fear overpowering the adrenaline. He's wrapped against the far wall, feet dangling. “I almost had you,” he laughed, running out of air. I knew he wasn't trying, and he knows I know that. “Tell me, Michel, who the hell am I?” I ask. But it's not a question, it's a demand. He chuckles but there's no humor behind it. I look into his eyes, and I see not fear nor anger, but amazement. “You show more potential than I ever did, you know that?” he says. I'm very close to him now. Roughly 2 feet. I can't even begin to process this. You’ll have time later. Think, Eliza, think. You have to get out of here. “How?” I ask. “Well, it's simple really. I breach into your mind, invite you here, and when your subconscious walks in, I wait for you to lock the door on yourself. Then you're neutralized, and I can go on my merry way. I didn’t think you'd be able to pull me here, though,” he explains. I wrap another vine over his neck. “That wasn’t my question. You know it, moron,” I say through gritted teeth as he tries to push away the vines. I'm almost touching him now, breathing heavily as I attempt to hold him in place. "Eliza, Eliza, Eliza,” he mutters, “It's a shame, really. We could have been partners.” I glare at him. “You said you were trying to trap me here.'' Once again, he laughs. He thinks it's actually funny. “Things can be forgiven. You should’ve never been born, you know. You were an abnormality.” My hand is centimeters away from his chest. “There was never supposed to be two of us at the same time.” I was still confused. The only way any of this was possible was if he really is… no. But if he is, that makes it all make sense. It would also make me… The thought makes my blood boil. “Well, I guess the universe decided to put me here anyway.'' I say, pressing my hand to his cloaked chest. I push energy into him, pushing him out of my mind. But he overpowers me, raising me to be eye-level with him. He chuckles. “Magix always finds a way to destroy one of its miscalculations. You're destined to kill me. That, my dear child, is why you're like me. Nothing is permanent. Not even death. Something always overpowers it.” He smiles, his hand gliding over my cheek. From the shock of everything, the vines that once bound him to the wall slowly receded “Who are you?” he asks. It's a challenge, but I have no choice, not anymore. Not now, not now that I know. “I'm a reaper,” I say, mortified. He releases me to the floor. “Yes, Eliza. You and I are reapers, the strongest mages ever to walk the planet. destined to collide.” he pauses abruptly, stalking towards me “ I tried to stop you earlier, But now, now you know who you are. This could get fun” he murmurs, grimly “One of us has to go. And it won't be me,” he says, speaking slowly, like I'm a 4 year old. I rise from the ground unfazed. Is this still a dream?. “I'm a reaper,” I say again, like a mantra “If I'm a reaper, then that means I’m… I’m…” I began, so conflicted. “Yes, Eliza. You're not weak, but I wouldn't call you strong,” he says, telling me what I didn’t dare to think. I don't get it, though. Why is Michel doing this? Why would another reaper want to make me know who, what i am. “It will all make sense in due time,” he mutters, like he's talking to a child again. Maybe he is. “I underestimated you once, but I won't do it again.” He pauses, the truth is, I won't be pushed around like this, reaper or not.“I am the reaper.” I say slowly, mockingly. “ you aren't.'' I step forward. '' if one of us hast to go.'' I began, lifting him off the ground. “ it won't be me.'' I state, dropping him as I drop back into reality, the words he said engraving into my head. You are a reaper, Eliza. Just like me.
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