TRANSCENDENCE 3

Savannah stared at herself in the mirror. The scar was hideous, puffed up and red. No healing magic could fix this, no bandage, no medicine… She was scarred for life. A hand rose to gingerly prod at the tissue. It stung to the touch. Despite the Rosengard’s healing, she still hurt.

And she was still ugly - all because some old woman got pissed over a bench.

She turned the mirror over, face down against the concrete of the alleyway. It was dark and musky, but it was home. She wished she had a bench to sit on.
(Savannah)
She also wished she knew more. Savannah yearned for revenge - she yearned to go back in time with more powers, more strength, better aim and maybe some armor. Sakura was sub-par at fighting, but she was privileged and experienced. The only difference between her and Savannah were circumstances.

Oh, how Savannah wished her circumstances were better.

If she were in control of her circumstances, right now, she’d be knelt over Sakura. Her knee would prod downwards into her chest, cutting off her wind and pinning her to the ground. Her skin, so soft, wrinkle-free (she called herself old?), fleshy and defenseless… burnt. Singed at the touch of Savannah’s fingertips. It’d blister at first, boiling up into hot red welts. But Savannah wouldn’t stop.

She’d be scarred for life.
(Savannah)
Savannah fell out of her daydream. She stared at her hand, which held down the mirror, as if it could jump up and attack at any moment. She got it after her last meet up with Blo - she realized she needed to see herself more often.

If she wanted to keep up a reputation, she needed to keep up her appearance.

Her thoughts wandered back to what she could do, what she could learn. Savannah knew that her potential hadn’t been met to it’s fullest, no, it would never be. Not until she could crush every dissenter, every naysayer.

While she dabbled in ideas and her small knowledge of magic, learned from excerpts from books and the rare meetup with another magi like her, her hand trailed to her scar.

And then it hit her.
(Savannah)
What if she could turn back time? What if Savannah could control the bend and flow, the decay and ripening of the world itself? She could imagine it now - Sakura’s beautiful face withering, plump cheeks thinning to emaciated jawbones… her knees give out and she falls to the ground, begging for mercy, recalling her denouncements…

“Snap out of it,” Savannah barks at herself. A quick rake of the nails against her wrist shakes her out of her fantasies, and reality presents itself before her.

She had never heard word of time magic, but nothing was impossible. If a woman could literally shatter a tree, Savannah could literally bend time. Where was the best place to learn information?

Byson. At once, Savannah gathered her things and began the travel back, back to Sakura, back to the ookami, back to the bench.

But this time, she wasn’t looking for trouble.
(Savannah)