Cyr had watched the seires of events, a mixture of astonishment and confusion on his face, he shrugged as most leapt from the window. He mereley stood to the side when they exited. His hands in his trenchcoat and his head looking down at the bed...
Everything... Was turning... Grey again, his eyes dulled and closed. Infront of him... he saw... everything... changing.
Cyr was in room... different to the one he was now. Light softly beamed through the dusty window. The room was long, and completeley empty, apart from a mirror.
Cyr gazed into the mirror, his reflection looking back at him. He was the same age, but... He remembered this mirror from somewhere... The figure slowly morphed, growing long, light ears. Where previously stood the dark-haired, striking young man, now stood an elven girl. Her face was gaunt, her hair brown, short and unkempt. A cocky grin matted on her face, her hands on her hips. Wearing a loose, black tank top, Her loose jeans stained.
"Emma...?" Cyr said, before everything swirled into whiteness, the elf-girl was still standing there, dancing in the blinding light. The light slowly enveloped her, the same, happy grin on her face as she faded. In the last few seconds of the display, her face saddened as she gazed at Cyr. "Emma!"
He was back in the hospital room, his face a painting of horrified awe at the vision. He slowly reeled his head back, rubbing his temples in stress. He slowly exited the room, trailing his hand along the wall.
As he peered around, moving down the hallways. Somthing was odd, he heard voices yelling, and he moved to a nearby room.
"WE cannot risk it! We have to do somthing! You've seen the fire in these children's eyes!" A outraged, seemingly old man stormed angrily within the room.
"No." Said a second, calmer voice. "These things sort themselves out with time."
"You hold onto pointless traditions! Traditions that will only make the situation worse! Within the last few days, the hospital wing has been flooded! And who is to blame for this? The students! Fights between them have been increasing massiveley!" The man bellowed. His voice struck like boulders, banging his fist angrily on the table as he yelled.
Cyr knew this all too well, one who had recently come to the wing was a teenager, one year older than himself. A teenager with firey hair, Blaze. Cyr cursed himself for making the situation worse, and continued on.
Then he froze, the same teenager who was just in his thoughts was standing defiantly in the midist of the hallway. His hands aflame and his eyes glaring angrily at Cyr.
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