In the Open Cage

Chapter 30

Pitch blackness surrounded Misa. She was immaterial, floating in an intangible world. Had she fallen asleep? Misa didn't recall herself drifting off to sleep.

She paused to think over what had happened. She'd been sitting on a couch in a lounge that served as a waiting room for those who had business with the royal council. She and Royle had gone there after breakfast because Royle and Leira had planned to discuss her joining the purgehouse as a reward for her contribution to the success of the treaty.

The last thing Misa could remember was the silence after Royle and Leira were called to the throne room. Then, she was pulled into her mind. Perhaps, she'd dozed off.

"Misa." Her name echoed. Strange because it wasn't exactly a voice that had uttered her name. It was more like a concept. A meaning that rattled through the expanse of her mind.

"Who's there?" Misa reached out in the darkness. She recognised the buzz that electrocuted the space around her. It was the magic. She could feel it coursing through her, calling her name, planting the knowledge of spells and a hundred years of wisdom in her head.

Yet, it was strangely unfamiliar. Misa couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was as if the magic had somehow changed, yet it was barely noticeable, and Misa could only sense that it was off. Just a bit...off. As if she was tasting food she had eaten all her life and couldn't quite tell if the chef had added or taken something out of the seasoning.

Misa moved towards the magic, through the blitz that prickled at her as she approached the chest that contained it. It was spilling over with the excess magic, too small to hold everything Tika had accumulated over the years. Misa pondered over it. She needed a bigger chest.

As if in response, the chest grew. Still too small to hold everything, but Misa saw its edges enlarge. It was wider, longer, deeper. Misa stepped back, shocked that she had somehow created a larger reservoir just by a single thought.

"Misa." It was louder, buzzing from all around her. It was the magic, Misa realised. The magic was calling her. Every part of it called to her, and it was as if a cluster of bees covered all four walls of a small room, each buzzing out her name. A cacophony that made Misa's head hurt.

Misa backed away, pushing her palms into her ears. "Stop it! What are you doing?"

"I am you," the magic responded. "You are me."

"What?"

"I am you." It drilled into her. "You are me. I am you."

"No!" Misa stumbled back, shocked when she felt the magic rush around her like water. Somehow it had encircled her, still spilling from the chest. "Stop!"

"I am you." The magic pushed against her rejection.

Misa fell in shock when the magic began to take shape. It started out as a fuzzy figure of a woman, white and flickering like a dying light. Misa could immediately identify it to be Tika.

"Tika?" Misa said, relieved to see the witch. "Tika, it's you! You have no idea how much I've been wanting to talk to you. Nisha-she's planning something. You know her well enough. You must—"

But the figure didn't reply. Instead, Tika's silhouette shattered and exploded into dust. Misa watched in horror as the pieces began to knit together almost immediately, taking the form of someone else entirely. This time, it was not weak or faded or even a misty figure. Misa's jaw slackened in horror, and she was unable to utter another word.

Standing before her, taking the full shape of a person, was...her. Misa blinked. She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. There was no way this was happening. Misa watched her mirrored form waver as if it were made of water that never sat still.