My dreams were filled with darkness. I plunged into a sea of silence and shadows, tiny whispers prickling at my mind. I sat in the dark of night, just the tips of my fingers illuminated by moonlight. I watched as the jaws of sleep, shadowed by mystery, clutched me like I was a lifeline. When I awoke, though, there was nothing but the opposite- white. My vision was swimming with light, and I was forced to blink a few times before my stunned mind could make out five or so figures standing above me. I felt nothing but faint pricks against my arms and the bitter cold nipping at my skin.

".. containment.. will be able to-"

"No. We'll.. cell with.."

".. heal, that's right.. can keep.. control.."

I faded back into unconsciousness, my dreams filled with something different this time around. I sat in a wide, open field, each thought I had painting a different vision across its grasses. Whispers edged into my mind, telling me thousands of different names, thousands of different stories. Maybe I was an Anna, with a huge family and a perfect, happy life. Maybe I was a Kate, with a life full of adventure and mystery. Maybe I was a Johanna, constantly battling for freedom and a happy life. No, no- I was just Aria. Aria with no memory, Aria stuck in a prison. Eventually, I ended up with a field brimming with lavender, my mind clear like a blank canvas. I could no longer fill it, no matter how hard I tried.

Focusing did nothing but bring the ache of my muscles to my attention. In fact, I was rudely interrupted from my relatively peaceful dream by said concentration. Instead of the slow, steady awakening I would've preferred, I jolted straight up, the back of my head slamming against a harsh metal behind me. My hands soon found the spot on my hand that would now be pained for hours. A tiny bump was already forming. I felt behind me, dainty hands gripping a bar of metal, and then another, then another. Nice job, Aria, you just slammed your head on bars.

Wait- oh. They'd removed my gauntlets, and for the first time since I'd arrived, I could see my hands, dirtied and scraped. My vision evened out, the blurred shapes that made up my surroundings eventually focusing into defined, harsh edges. My gaze quickly scanned the area, and the first thing I noticed was Jace, leaning back into the corner of our cell. After that, I lost my focus of anything else. Out of pure impulse, I pressed myself back against the bars behind me, gazing at him with widened eyes. It wasn't fear, just.. well, it was fear. He seemed to just stare at me with quite an irritated look on his face, each move of his muscles making me flinch away. Jace lifted his hand, gesturing around him. "This, brat, is what happens when you try to go and mess everything up." He hissed, spitting out each syllable like he was a snake, and the words his venom. Before I could shakily retort that I was not a brat, Jace stood, stalking over to me. I shrank back against the bars, cringing, waiting for some blow to come.

Instead, though, my body tingled with a strange, warm feeling. I shifted my gaze, dragging my eyes to where Jace now knelt beside me. His hand was outstretched, fingers only barely brushing against my right arm. The warm, tingly feeling spread from my arm to my entire body, all of my aches and pains feeling as if they melted away little by little. I watched as the scrapes littering my hands and knees cleared up, the skin sealing itself over what used to be bruised and bleeding wounds. His tiny movement was so incredibly cautious, as if he didn't want to lay so much as a finger on me. Like I was dangerous or something.

I felt my expression drop when I realized that we'd been moved here for a reason. I no longer focused on him anymore; just on the thin veil in my mind that hid my memories from view. I dug into it, hurling myself into a world of past events. It took several moments before my mind clicked on what had happened.

The mirror.

When I touched it, I.. changed it. Destroyed it. I tried to force myself to stop thinking about it- it was impossible. My gaze flickered back up to Jace. He didn't look back at me. I cleared my throat slightly, speaking up in a hoarse, raspy voice, though not moving. "What.. what are.." I just trailed off, hoping he'd understand what I was trying to say. Eventually, after moments of awkward silence, he responded, "Fixing your mess." Suddenly, he sat down fully, crossing his legs and setting his hand fully against my arm, as if now sure that I wasn't going to murder him by accident. "You can.. you can heal?" I questioned, not moving, hoping that I wasn't going to mess up his process. Jace scoffed. "No, I turn people into rats." I gave him a quizzical look, not getting his sarcasm. "Yes, I heal." He snapped, brows furrowing in both concentration and irritation at my lack of understanding towards sarcasm.

I glanced down, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Instead, I found entertainment in watching my injuries heal. It was quite incredible to watch- the skin healed entirely, each part of my body losing the ache that I now realized I'd been dealing with the past two days. Or was it three? I lost track at this point. In curiosity, I reached my free hand out to brush my fingers over what had previously been a nasty scrape. It was just healed skin now, only a tinge of pink tainting my delicate arms. Jace quickly snarled at me, "Don't move. It messes me up." I quickly dropped my hand down to my side, whispering, "Sorry." My gaze instead wandered the cell we were in. I assumed they'd just moved us into a different one. Bigger, hopefully.

With closer examination, though, my eyes widened, both sadness and surprise washing across my face. They'd put us in a tiny cell, not even half of the size of our old cells, with no walls. Just bars. There were no blankets, no faucets- just a toilet in the corner. Jace gave a huff, watching me observe our surroundings. "You realize what you did now?"