Arrival

I start off floating in darkness, having no idea where I am.

Not only is it dark, it's cold as well, without light or warmth. I cannot move, but I can feel the space around me growing thicker and thicker, as if I am being encased in some sort of hardening substance.

Once it begins to feel completely solid, I see a light and I hear a voice coming from it.

"Oh, Rachel. I'm so sorry you had to suffer for so long. I did everything I could... Please believe me... Rachel... My little Rachel..."

I do not know whose voice it is, but it causes the space around me to loosen. I also suddenly feel a bit more comfortable- warm and free. Without really thinking about it, I try to move closer to that light. Instead, it moves closer to me.

"If only I wasn't so useless, I could have saved you both. Please, don't hate your father, Rachel. Please, don't hate me."

The voice is now louder, and I can hear it a lot more clearly. I still do not recognize it, but I feel warmer than ever before. The darkness is continually being chased away by the light the closer it gets. I am formless in this space, but I can feel myself moving toward it, swimming through space eagerly.

A part of me is unable to resist the allure of that voice; a part of me wants nothing more than to embrace that light and respond to its voice. I do not recognize that part of me. It is not me. Not me at all.

For some reason, a part of me has become someone else... Or perhaps a part of someone else has become me...

I cannot be sure, but when I hear that voice again I find that I wholeheartedly wanted to find its origin.

"If you cannot live, then I don't deserve to live either!"

I panic suddenly, and begin to swim frantically for reasons I cannot figure out. Perhaps it is that a part of me fears for the life of that person, but it is too confusing. I do not feel these emotions, yet I somehow experience them all the same.

It is an inexplicable feeling.

Nevertheless, I reach the light and grab hold of it. It brightens into something comparable to the sun, filling my field of vision and causing me to shut my eyes. Even so, the light permeates and fills the darkness of my closed eyes, so I open them.

It is still much too bright, and so I blink rapidly and fiercely. The light is gone, and what replaces it is the true sun shining in the sky. I blink a few more times, finding that I am staring at the sun through a hole in the roof.

What a horrible sight it is. Pitiful, undoubtedly pitiful.

Looking away from the sun, I see a man I do not recognize, yet whose face causes me to relax tremendously. His head is buried in the mattress, and he is weeping in silence.

"I'll be with you soon, Rachel. Okay? I'll be with you and Mommy soon."

The words hurt me, and I try to reach for his face. My body is weak, far too weak, and I struggle to even lift my hand. I manage to slightly touch his face, and he seems startled. He raises his head and looks at me, and I see the utter shock in his expression.

In response I try to force a smile, but just moving my hand has left me in a horrible state. This body is horrible, just what kind of body can be so feeble and sickly?

I am unable to ponder this for much longer, because the man all but leaps onto the bed and grabs me by the shoulders. I feel a shock travel down both my arms, and I wince. He notices, and quickly releases me before falling backwards off the bed.

"Yow!"

For some reason, his cry of pain scares me despite my own pain. Instinctively, I call out, "Dad?"

"I'm fine... Just fine... fine... FINE!"

He sits up hurriedly, looking at me with disbelief in his eyes.

"Rachel! How are you okay? Oh, Rachel!"

He reaches forward to hug me, but hesitates before deciding not to. Even so, he very carefully takes hold of my hand with both of his and brings it to his face. "So warm," he says once my hand reaches his cheek.

"Rachel, you're warm! You haven't been warm in years! How is that possible?"

I open my mouth, but I have no words to say. How is it possible? I don't know the answer myself. The last thing I remember is me sitting in my chamber, pouring every ounce of effort into understanding both volumes of the Tome of Life and Death.

No...

The last thing I remember is lying in bed, freezing despite it being a hot and sunny day, slowly slipping toward death.

Something is wrong. There is a duality in my being, and it is becoming impossible to differentiate between the two.

I am Razalith Van Werren... but I am also Rachel Vahn...

I am the Demon Lord, but I am also the daughter of David and Irene Vahn.

I should know nothing of my parents, but somehow I know of the existence of those two. I know that my mother died when I was just a baby, and that I have always been a weak and sickly child. My father, David Vahn, took steps to ensure that I could be raised in a safe environment. He sacrificed everything, even his dream career, just so I could have everything I needed.

Thanks to that, we ended up living in a crummy house in the slums. We have been unable to eat anything but stale bread and porridge for the past few weeks, but I never complained.

I knew that I was a burden on him, and I knew that I would die soon. It was what I hoped for and longed for more than anything; to set him free. Free of me.

For some reason, though, I now find those thoughts ridiculous.

What disease or sickness exists that I haven't personally engineered through magic? How could I ever have had such thoughts?

My mind splinters, heals itself, then splinters again. Half of me is here, but it is fleeting. The next moment, an entirely new version of me presents itself, and I am forced to believe that this is the real me.

This continues, but I can't focus on it. My father, David Vahn, is looking at me with love and confusion in his eyes.

"I'm not sure yet, Dav- Father. I need some time to gather my thoughts, and to rest."

"Ah, you're right. Dad should give you some time to rest. I'm just so glad you're awake, Rachel. I thought I lost... I thought you..."

He struggles to say it, as if saying it would jinx the situation and cause me to suddenly fall dead. He expresses his joy regarding the entire situation, then finally decides to leave me alone to rest.

I am a bit hot, but I cannot easily remove the blanket. It takes me a whole minute to uncover the upper portion of my body, and I grimace.

It is my body, but it isn't my body. It is thin, gangly and fragile-looking- not to mention grossly underdeveloped. My skin is pale and rough in a lot of places, my stomach has sunk in and I can see the bone of my ribcage under the thin material of the old dress I am wearing.

I recognize it as one of my mother's old dresses, and I recall the dilemma that David has been facing for years now. Without enough money, he could only bring me to live here, in this dilapidated house with not nearly enough room.

In fact, I seem to recall that the room I am currently in is the only bedroom in the house, and that David sleeps on the floor.

It is unacceptable, but I can do nothing about it as I am right now. For now, I must focus on solving the issues with my body, then I can set out making life better for us both.

Closing my eyes, I begin to gather the strips of my consciousness that have been constantly slipping from my grip. The instant I bring them all together in one place, the complete and total amalgamation of memories from both parts of myself come rushing into my mind.

It is overwhelming and I instantly receive a headache, but I have no choice other than to suffer through it. It takes almost three minutes for all the memories to return to me, and when they do I am now able to completely understand my situation.

Irene Edwards, whom David Vahn married, suffered from a condition labelled 'mana inflation.' It is something about which very little is known, since it is exceedingly rare. Aside from causing the magic wells within someone to be dangerously oversaturated, leading to weakness and fragility, it also introduces an unnatural imbalance of mana within a person's body.

That makes it impossible for someone suffering with that illness to learn and perform magical arts. For example: Someone with a regular Magic Well would have about 20 points of mana before any kind of training and growth begins. If that person wanted to use a basic spell, they would use up half a point of mana. For someone with my illness, the mana would fluctuate ceaselessly. Those 20 points would drop to 10 one day, then rise to 30 the next. Meanwhile, the amount necessary to perform a basic spell would also fluctuate.

It was far too difficult- in fact, impossible- to learn anything about magic that way.

As such, Irene suffered her whole life. For some reason, her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother all had and died due to it.

I also 'inherited' the family illness, and have lived with it for 12 years. Sadly, I passed away earlier today. If not for the part of me that isn't Rachel Vahn, I would have been lost forever. Thankfully, Razalith Van Werren arrived just in the nick of time.

It does not matter which of the two I am; I am both.

Razalith and Rachel have become one within me, so I can begin my work. I can give Rachel the life she and her father could only dream of, and I can allow Razalith to experience everything she missed out on as well.