Before I knew it, I found myself in an entirely different place—a cramped storage room filled with cleaning supplies, the sharp scent of chlorine stinging my nose.
Octevia, still gripping the back of my shirt, tossed me to the floor without a second thought.
“Ach,” I whimpered as my tailbone slammed against the hard floor again.
Octevia looked down at me, her expression as indifferent as ever, but now with a sharp, icy glint in her eyes.
“Hi, Rivinna.
It’s been a while,” I said, trying to break the silence, my nerves flickering across my face.
“How long has it been?
Four years, maybe?”
“Who are you?” Octevia finally asked, her tone cold and direct.
“What?”
“Stop playing dumb.” Her voice was sharper.
“The Asmari I knew never once dared to meet my eyes, and I was told you had a one-star aspect.
So tell me—what demon has possessed my young brother?” The way her hand loomed over the hilt of the katana made it clear she was ready to strike me down at any moment.
Sweat formed on my palms and brow as my heart pounded at record speed.
I wasn’t sure if she would actually strike me down, but if she did, no one would come to save me.
It didn’t help that she was the stubborn type.
She wouldn’t believe what I had to say, especially if she believed she was right.
Who was I kidding?
I was just like her.
But honestly, she was insane.
Who threatens their own brother after years apart just because he’s changed?
And possessed by a demon?
That’s your first conclusion?
“Isn’t it a bit unreasonable to assume I’ve been possessed by a demon?” My voice remained steady, betraying none of my inner turmoil as I met her gaze without flinching.
In truth, I couldn’t stand—my knee was so weak I couldn’t muster the strength.
The scars Octevia left on me ran deep.
“You have ten seconds to tell me how to get my brother back, or your head will be rolling on the ground.
Nine.
Eight.” This woman might actually kill me.
I felt my face pale, panic settling deeper by the second.
“Don’t be ridiculous—it’s me, Asmari.
Remember when you threatened to kill Valeria and me for eating your entire chocolate stash when we were six?
You beat us senseless.”
“Six.” She gripped the hilt of the katana.
“Or when I was eight, and I looked at you for too long, so you broke my arms.” She kept counting down, expression unreadable.
My heart pounded even harder, desperation clawing at me as I scrambled for more memories.
“Or when I was nine and Fiona and I were playing and laughing too loud, so you beat us so badly that Fiona ended up in the hospital.
Or when Sylvia tried to protect me from you and you beat her up instead.” Yeah, that’s basically all my childhood memories of her.
Not that it was my fault—she made it her life’s mission to torment us when we were kids.
“Four.” Her countdown was agonisingly slow; I felt four heartbeats pass before she continued.
Then I dredged up a memory I’d rather forget—but desperation overruled pride.
“Or back when you used to claim you hated Azrial, but at his funeral you cried even more than I did.” I saw her grip on the hilt freeze for a moment, her whole body going rigid.
For a second, I thought it worked—until she continued.
“One.” Wait—wasn’t she just at four?!
Then her hand closed around the hilt, and she disappeared from my sight.
I instinctively shut my eyes.
Darkness enveloped me, my heart hammering painfully in my chest.
Ten seconds passed in absolute blackness.
Strangely, it felt almost comforting.
Is this death?
It was surprisingly painless.
Maybe dying isn’t so bad after all, I thought.
But then a warm hand pressed gently to my head.
I frowned inwardly—I didn’t think you could feel anything after death.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from above.
“Are you planning to keep your eyes closed all day, Mari?” Confused, I blinked them open.
What I saw stole the breath from my lungs—Octevia, a faint but proud smile playing on her lips as she gently ruffled my hair.
“You’ve grown some balls, Mari.
You never even looked in my direction when you were younger.” I blinked, bewildered.
I was so stunned I couldn’t find my voice, my jaw opening and closing as a flood of questions raced through my mind.
Was this the same Octevia?
The one who made it her hobby to make my life miserable?
The same Octevia who never smiled and always looked as if the ground itself had offended her?
Maybe I should be asking if a demon possessed her.
“What’s wrong, Mari?” She tilted her head, feigning innocence, her face still mostly indifferent but with a teasing glint in her eyes.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She knelt and started squeezing and stretching my cheeks, just like Mother did when I was younger.
“You’ve really grown,” she said, her expressionless face now holding a quiet pride.
“I’m sure Father would be proud.
After all, with a performance like that, you’re bound to become the Black Star.”
“I still don’t understand how you got a legendary sword, or how you learned about the cult, or how you got a new Aspect.” She paused, still playing with my cheeks.
“But I’ve decided I won’t make you tell me.
I’m still trying to be a better sister, so bear with me.”
I didn’t answer her—not because I didn’t want to, but because I physically couldn’t.
She squeezed my cheeks gently, spoke softly, and looked at me with genuine sisterly affection.
It wasn’t even the last thing I expected—I’d never expected it at all.
Even seeing it with my own eyes, I couldn’t believe it.
My mouth hung open in disbelief, my body trembling at her touch; I couldn’t help it.
The trauma she’d left was etched deep into my skin.
“Maybe I was wrong,” she said.
“Maybe your balls haven’t quite dropped yet.” Her voice was teasing but retained that familiar indifference.
“You’re trembling this much over a little prank.”
Her words snapped me out of my shock, my face twisting in disbelief.
“A small prank?” I scoffed, my lips curling into a snarl.
“You threatened to kill me.” My tone was heavy with exasperation.
“Well, you’re alive,” she retorted, as if that justified everything.
I pressed my lips together.
“No wonder you barely have any friends.
“Why?
You never seem to mind when Mother does it.” Her tone was mocking.
I flicked her hands off my cheeks.
“You know exactly why I don’t like it.
And what’s with this sudden change of character?
I thought you hated your siblings, considering how you tried to murder us when we were younger.” She didn’t flinch.
“A lot can change in four years.”
“You mean a lot changed four years ago.”
She made no attempt at arguing.
If it was because of what happened four years ago, that would explain her change.
It wasn’t just maturity.
“Azrial—you blame yourself for his death, don’t you?” Octevia stayed silent.
“I never thought the sister who always argued with him would be affected so deeply.”
“Is that why you’re taking his role as the caring older sibling now?” I saw a small, wistful smile curl up on her lips.
“Everyone in the family was affected by the firstborn’s death,” she said, neither denying nor confirming the second part.
“But it seems you were affected the most.” Octevia shook her head.
“I’m not sure that’s fair to say.
Everyone was affected in their own way.
Mother became more protective of her only son, Valeria’s personality completely changed, Fiona became less cheerful, and Sylvi even cried.”
I snorted at that last part.
“But if anyone suffered most, it was Narrisa.”
“Narrisa, huh,” I said, rolling the name on my tongue.
A sad smile crossed my lips.
“Yes, sister-in-law definitely suffered the most, though she was the best at hiding it—if I didn’t know her, I’d never have guessed she was still grieving because of my brother’s death.” Pity clouded my features.
“Well, are you going to sit there all day, or are you finally going to stand up?” Octevia asked, trying to break the sad moment.
She extended her hand to me, and I took it, letting her pull me to my feet before I brushed dust from my clothes.
“So what now?
Are you going back to the evaluation?” Octevia shook her head.
“No, I’m not.” My brow furrowed slightly.
“Why not?”
“I want to make up for being a bad sister.”
“By giving me even more trauma to work with?” I could have sworn I heard her snort, but when I glanced over, she was completely expressionless.
“It was just a prank.”
“You made me believe I was dead for a good twenty seconds, Rivinna.
How is that a prank?” My voice was exasperated.
“You’re just overly sensitive.”
“And you have absolutely no grasp of social decency.”
“Are you going to stand here all day or actually follow me out of this room?” I rolled my eyes, but I wasn’t finished.
“You literally have an evaluation.
Can you just abandon it?”
“I don’t need to be there.
The only reason I even bothered showing up was because of my baby brother.” An uncomfortable shiver ran through me at those words.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to this new version of Octevia.