Alger P.O.V
I woke in a dimly lit room, the weight of my outer coat gone. As my mind cleared, the memory of the bakery rushed back—the smell of bread, the silver-haired girl, and the sudden darkness. The door creaked open, and a young man stepped in. His hair was as bright as a summer sun, radiating a cheerful, youthful energy that seemed to light up the room even before he flicked the switch.
The light revealed a spacious, elegant room; the furniture looked far more expensive than anything I expected to find above a bakery.
"Who are you?" I asked. My voice came out like grinding stones—harsh and dry, as if I hadn't spoken in years.
"The name's Light," he said, offering a grin that lived up to his name. "My sister, Lunara, is the one you saw yesterday before you checked out on our floor." He handed me a cup of warm water. The first sip was heaven, soothing the fire in my throat.
"Listen, kid. The bathroom is through there. Take a shower, then meet us in the kitchen."
After he left, I dragged my aching body to the bathroom. It was massive—tiled and pristine. I sank into a warm bath, watching the water turn grey as the filth of the streets finally melted away. When I eventually stepped out and caught my reflection in the mirror, I froze.
Beneath the grime was a stranger. My obsidian hair fell in soft, dark curls to my shoulders, shimmering with a faint purple tint. My eyes were a deep, crystalline violet, and my skin was so pale I looked almost ethereal—like a creature made of moonlight rather than flesh.
A knock at the door startled me. "Hey, your clothes are on the bed!" Light called out.
I found the bed freshly made with clean linens. I dressed quickly, the fabric was soft against my skin, and made my way toward the scent of cooking in the kitchen.
The moment I stepped into the kitchen, the scent of freshly baked bread hit me like a physical wave. My stomach gave a loud, traitorous growl that echoed through the quiet room. Both siblings turned, their eyes widening as they took me in. Cleaned of the street's filth, they seemed mesmerized, staring at me as if I were a ghost—or a miracle.
I cleared my throat, the sound snapping them out of their daze. Light was the first to find his voice. "Hey... who exactly are you, kid?"
I looked down at my hands, feeling a sudden wave of shyness. "I don't know," I whispered.
The air in the room shifted instantly. A heavy, worried silence fell over them. Lunara leaned in, whispering something low to her brother. I strained to listen, but their voices were nothing more than a blurred hum against the crackle of the oven.