The exact nature of the ?ther remains the subject of many a theory. However, it is safe to say that the six elements found within the ?ther are the foundation for all of them. These elements, in standard order, are Quintessence; Flux; Wonder; Radiance; Aspect; and Entropy.

  Excerpt from 'Introduction to the Workings of Magic'

  Down on the street, people were yelling and screaming.

  It was all that Cilla could hear as she sat in the dark closet and clutched Ibbi, her only stuffed toy, close to her chest.

  Earlier today, her mother had been angry. Angry at the uniformed men that marched through the street. Cilla didn't understand why her mother was so angry at them, but she had told her to stay inside rather than go out and play with her friends. Sulking, she had spent some time at the kitchen table with her grandmother until the noise came.

  It was something Cilla had never heard before. It was like the sky itself had shattered and its pieces—each made of a different material—rained down upon the roof of the house, every impact making a different sound.

  Her grandmother's face had turned a shade of grey similar to her hair upon hearing it, and she told Cilla to hide. With Ibbi in hand, Cilla hid in the closet as she always did when something scared her.

  And there she sat still. Waiting.

  Did the soldier men do something bad? Cilla wondered. She had seen fights before from the window. Men hitting each other, and sometimes women too.

  More time passed and the screams and other noises receded further until Cilla could no longer hear anything. Silence now joined the darkness she had secluded herself in, leaving only the feeling of the rough cloth of Ibbi's fur against her cheek.

  Where's mommy?

  Usually her mother would have retrieved her from her hiding place by now before berating her for being such an easily frightened child.

  Yet no such thing happened now, and Cilla found that the closet no longer provided the security she wanted.

  I'm scared. Where’s mommy?

  Cilla slowly pushed open one of the closet doors, causing a soft creak to punctuate the otherwise eerie silence.

  She listened, yet heard nothing. There was no stumbling either below or above her. No footsteps or closing doors. No soft tinkling of glass or plates, no voices.

  Cilla carefully stepped out of the closet and shuffled towards the kitchen where she had last seen her grandmother.

  The kitchen door was open, and Cilla peeked around it.

  Her grandmother was no longer there. The chair she had been sitting in was shoved away from the table.

  A cold draught passed over Cilla's thin, bare arms. She shuddered.

  Walking on her toes, she checked every room of the apartment that was her home. There was nobody to be found.

  When she entered the tiny entrance hall, she saw that the door that led towards the second-floor landing stood open. It was the source of the draught she felt, and she walked towards it.

  Where is everyone?

  In the stairway she stuck her head between the railings to look down. There was nobody there either, yet she did notice something odd.

  Why is the floor green?

  The ground floor was normally covered with beige tiles, yet now several of them had turned a light shade of brownish green. Only next to the bottom of the stairs could Cilla spot some that retained their normal appearance.

  Did somebody spill soap?

  She retracted her head and with Ibbi in hand, started to descend the stairs.

  I need to find mommy, Cilla thought. If she wasn't in the house, she had to be in the backyard.

  Upon reaching the first floor, she hurried her pace. The people who lived there had a mean dog that barked and snarled whenever it saw her.

  With a speed that brought her close to falling, she took the last steps before reaching the ground floor, where a peculiar smell instantly entered her nose. It smelled similar to the time she had her face covered with dirt, only with an underlying stinky smell she did not recognize.

  “It stinks, Ibbi,” she said to her toy.

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  She eyed the green tiles in front of her and noticed that they weren't covered with anything. Instead, they had simply changed colour entirely.

  Feeling desperate now, Cilla looked back up the stairway to see if anyone was there, yet the entire town-house seemed abandoned. If she was to find anyone, she would need to go outside.

  The front door stood wide open as well, and Cilla could see the street behind it. Yet a large patch of the strange green tiles barred her way, and she was afraid to step on them. Both her mother and grandmother had told her stories about children who turned into monsters because they touched strange things.

  She stood in doubt for a few moments until her desire to find her mother overcame her fear. With great care, she shuffled forward and stuck out a single foot to tap on one of the tiles.

  Nothing happened.

  Emboldened, she shifted her weight onto her foot. The tile instantly cracked and she felt her foot sinking into the ground.

  She shrieked and hurled herself backwards, hitting the stair-post.

  Tears sprang to her eyes as she started to wail.

  “Mommy! Mommy, where are you?” She held Ibbi close to her chest as she gasped for air between each sob.

  Nobody came to her.

  After crying for a while, she could no longer bear being alone. With tears still flooding from her eyes, she ran forward across the green tiles. With every step she could feel the stone shatter beneath her weight, yet she kept running towards the door.

  And then she was out, her feet now hitting the solid cobblestones of the narrow street in front of her house.

  Her tears stopped as she looked around in wonder. The sight before her was familiar, yet strange at the same time. The houses she had known all her life were still there, but some of them had changed. Their shapes and colours were distorted, making them look like a badly constructed dollhouse her uncle had once given her. Everything smelled weird too. The street’s usual smells were mixed with ones more exotic; some nice, some terrible.

  Unfortunately, like her house, the street was abandoned.

  “Mommy?” she said hesitantly.

  “Cilla,” a voice whispered nearby.

  She spun around as she recognized the voice. It was her grandmother; she was sitting against the wall of the town-house.

  “Mischa, where's mommy?” Cilla asked as she began to dash towards her grandmother.

  After taking two steps, she halted. There was a large red stain on the windowsill next to her grandmother’s head, with more streaks of red running down towards the ground.

  Despite being only one hand and one finger old, as a resident of River's End she knew all too well what that sight meant.

  “Cilla,” her grandmother said, trying to lift her arm. “Are you alright?”

  Cilla nodded vigorously, causing Ibbi's stuffed legs to flap along.

  “That's good,” her grandmother replied with a hoarse voice. “You remember where your Aunt Anvina lives?”

  Cilla nodded again.

  “You must go to her. Run as fast as you can.”

  “Where's mommy?” Cilla asked. A droplet of blood slowly made its way down the wall, and she followed it with her eyes.

  “She's no longer here, child.”

  “Why not?”

  “Something terrible has happened.”

  Even Cilla understood that much, and again she warily eyed her strange surroundings.

  “But what about you?”

  “Don't mind me, child. Just run and do not stop. No matter what you see or hear, keep running until everything looks normal again.”

  “I'll need my coat,” Cilla said. Her mother always said she needed her coat. But she didn't dare cross the green tiles again, so she walked past her grandmother towards the small corridor that ran towards the back of the house.

  “No,” her grandmother said, her voice sounding weaker than before. “Don't go there, Cilla. Go to your aunt.”

  “I need my coat,” Cilla repeated, and she stepped into the narrow alleyway that ran between their house and the one beside it.

  At the end there was a wooden door that led to the backyard. It was slightly ajar, and Cilla pushed it open with one hand.

  She was met by the sight of many large white sheets hanging from washing lines. As she took a few steps forward, the wind blew one against her. It was sticky and heavy, wet with water.

  Upon seeing a half-filled clothes basket, she halted. That's ours, she thought. Maybe mommy is here!

  “Mommy!”

  A soft whistling sound came from somewhere behind the flapping clothes, and Cilla immediately rushed in that direction. “Mommy?”

  She advanced under several wet tunics, making her hair wet, until she encountered yet another strange thing.

  The large bedsheet on the last washing line wasn’t moving with the breeze like the other clothes. Instead it stood unmoving, with a fine maze of dark lines across its surface.

  Cilla reached out a finger and touched it. The sheet did not budge, as if it was a stone wall.

  “Mommy?” Cilla asked again, stepping away from the sheet. Other things nearby had changed as well. A pair of woollen trousers shimmered with continuously changing colours, and the wool appeared to have grown, curling wildly in all directions. The two legs now appeared swollen, as if something was inside them. There were also some strange-coloured puddles on the ground that gave off a dirty smell that made Cilla pinch her nose.

  Again, a faint whistling sound came from behind the solidified bedsheet.

  Cilla gathered up all her courage and stepped around the sheet, to be greeted with the familiar figure of her mother.

  Yet it was only the figure that was familiar.

  Part of the cotton dress her mother wore had vanished, exposing her right leg. The frays at the edges of the cloth looked like yellow, glistening steel razors. Her leg itself had turned a light shade of orange, and had completely stiffened. The upper half of her torso and most of her head were similarly affected. Part of her curly brown hair, which Cilla had inherited, had turned a dark maroon, except at the ends where the tips emitted a dim white light as if they were burning. One of her eyes had turned into a glass orb with a hint of hazel visible inside. Her other eye looked at Cilla, yet there was nothing of the usual tenderness her mother regarded her with. It was cold, and Cilla shivered as she looked at the creature standing before her.

  The mother-like creature whistled again and took a step forward, pivoting on her orange leg.

  Cilla screamed and ran away as fast as she could. Back through the wet clothes, back through the door, back to the street.

  “Cilla,” her grandmother whispered as she bolted out from between the two houses. “Is that you?” She was unable to turn her head to look at Cilla.

  “Mommy is sick,” Cilla said as she started to sob again. “She needs a healer.”

  “She can't be healed anymore. She's a demon now.” Her grandmother tried to move her head slightly, which caused violent spasms in her legs. “You must go as I told you.”

  “No, I don't want to leave. I'll stay with you,” Cilla said.

  Behind her a three-tone whistle came from the alleyway.

  Cilla jumped towards her grandmother and crawled into her arms. She felt cold, yet Cilla did not care as she made herself as small as possible.

  The sound of the whistling grew louder and was joined by approaching footsteps. Her grandmother no longer spoke.

  Cilla shrieked again when the demon finally rounded the corner, and she pushed her face against her grandmother.

  The whistling drew ever closer.