I kept walking, and this idiot kept chewing on my hair.

  A vile, squelching sensation. Irritating to the point of shivering. At some point, I simply couldn't take it anymore and dropped to my knees, grabbing him by the chin.

  "GIVE IT BACK! Now!"

  He unclenched his teeth reluctantly, looking somehow offended. I felt everything inside me cramp from hunger. There was almost no strength left to maintain the vessel.

  SNAP. SNAP.

  Two short bursts of mana, and two strangled birds appeared in my hands. I was about to swallow my prey whole, but I saw his face. He was staring at my hair as if calculating which side to start chewing on again.

  "Aaaargh! Here! Choke on it!"

  I shoved one bird at him. We ate quickly, like animals, and moved on.

  Two hours later, my patience finally snapped. I dumped him onto the grass.

  "COME ON! GET UP! WALK YOURSELF! My back isn't made of iron!"

  Zenkhald tried to get up. He made one uncertain movement, swayed, and collapsed face-first into the dirt again. Hopeless. Pathetic. An empty piece of meat.

  "So what am I supposed to do with you?" I grumbled.

  At that moment, a girl stepped out from behind the trees. She walked confidently, calmly, as if this forest belonged to her by birthright. But that wasn't what made me tense up. Behind her back, swaying rhythmically in the air, levitated an entire arsenal of weapons: swords, hammers, spears. And trailing behind was something huge, square, and wrapped in old chains.

  I instantly took a fighting stance, feeling the white glow concentrating in my fingers.

  "WHO ARE YOU?! Don't come any closer! One move, and I'll erase you!"

  The girl stopped. She shifted her gaze from me to Zenkhald, lying in the dust, and... smiled. So warmly, so kindly.

  "I mean you no harm," she said. Her voice vibrated with hidden power. "I am his sister."

  "Sister?" I frowned. "What kind of 'sister'? Another human invention to denote ownership?"

  She didn't answer. She stepped closer, ignoring my snarl, and lowered that square thing to the ground. It turned out to be a book. But so massive that it could be used as an altar.

  Seeing the tome, Zenkhald changed. On his own, without my yelling, he crawled over to the book and touched the cover with his palm.

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  And it began.

  Glowing yellow lines crawled along his arms, biting under his skin. They branched out, covering his entire body. A blinding light burst from his eyes and half-open mouth. But a second later, the yellow glow was replaced by a thick blackness. Then yellow again. The colors fought inside him, spilling outward.

  I felt this cold. When the book began to radiate darkness, the air in the forest froze. It wasn't just magic—it was the Void, making even my hair, the Demon of Oblivion's, stand on end.

  The girl straightened up, watching the process. Greg still kept his hand on the cover, shuddering from the flow of information.

  "My name is Mira," she said, looking at me. "Mira Helvard. And you, it seems, have already met my brother. He is Zenkhald Helvard."

  "So what?" I said, trying to hide the trembling in my knees. "You can see he's broken, why did you bring this?"

  "You're the Demon of Oblivion, right?" Mira said. "Why are you dragging him around if he disgusts you so much?"

  "It's just... I'm going to kill him," I snapped. "Personally. When he becomes tasty enough."

  Mira smiled again.

  "I have a feeling we'll get along."

  We stood and silently watched Zenkhald. This lasted a long time—about thirty minutes, until the light inside him faded and the lines retreated under his skin. He simply went limp and fell next to the book.

  Mira walked over to him, crouched down, and gently touched his hair.

  "Sleep, Zenkhald," she whispered.

  There was so much affection in her voice that it made me sick. And at the same time... for some reason, very envious.

  POV: Aurora

  Mira left just as she had appeared—without unnecessary words, leaving her "little brother" rolling in the dust. I decided the world wouldn't end if I slept for another hour.

  I woke up to a strange sound. A rhythmic, muffled tapping.

  I opened my eyes and froze. Zenkhald was sitting on the ground, hugging his knees, rhythmically rocking back and forth. His gaze was fixed on nothingness, and his lips were feverishly whispering to the void.

  "They're here... they're everywhere... no, they're not... erased... empty..."

  "Hey," I called out, getting up.

  He didn't answer. I stepped closer, and then he sharply threw his head up. In his eyes—one blue, the other black—splashed such terror that I involuntarily stopped. Zenkhald began to back away, crawling away from me on all fours.

  "Who... who are you?" he wheezed, pressing his back against a tree.

  He froze for a couple of seconds, scanning me with his eyes, and then... Suddenly he lunged forward, grabbed a lock of my hair, and shoved it into his mouth.

  "IDIOT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I shrieked, tearing my curls from his jaws.

  Zenkhald blinked, and the madness in his eyes subsided a little. He spit out the hair and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

  "I... I remember. You were dragging me around, right? I think I was unconscious. Or something like that."

  He stood up, swaying, and stepped right up to me.

  "Who are you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

  "You're so annoying..." I grumbled.

  I created a water sphere above my head and brought it down on myself, furiously scrubbing the saliva from my hair. Disgusting. It sticks to the skin, hanging like icicles... I hate it. Zenkhald silently watched my water procedures.

  "I can feel your essence," he said suddenly. "You're the Demon of Oblivion. That means you're the one... So what's your name?"

  I wrung out my hair and glared at him.

  "Secret."

  Zenkhald nodded seriously, as if I had just given him the title of an empress.

  "Secret, then? Alright. Beautiful name."

  He wanted to add something else, but I simply didn't let him open his mouth. I exhaled heavily and strode forward along the path.

  "Let's go," I tossed over my shoulder.

  He trudged behind. I heard his steps, felt him turning his head from side to side, studying every bush as if seeing it for the first time in his life. His memory had returned, but his personality, it seems, had become even more unbearable.

  We walked in silence.