Chapter 8. The Dagger

"Breakfast," Mulan said.

Allison groaned and wiped the sleep out of her eyes. The hospital room blurred before her. Where was she? The IBS dorms didn't have beige roofs...

"Breakfast," Mulan repeated. "Come on, Allison."

Allison pushed herself upright. The room came into better focus, and she blinked. "Oh. 'Morning."

"Get yourself dressed," Mulan said. "Come on, breakfast is also in the mess hall. I'll lead you there."

Allison eyed the clock on the counter. 9:16. So there was still an hour and thirty minutes until she could try the portrait lock again.

"Your clothes are on the nightstand," Mulan said. "I'll go."

She opened the door and left.

Allison groaned and rubbed her eyes again. She caught sight of the clothes: plain gray T-shirt, gray sweat pants, gray windbreaker--all with the gold logo of the hospital: the Chinese Yin-Yang, a dragon on the top, a soldier on the bottom, with a pale gold book as a background.

Allison noticed something else by her new clothes. Her old backpack: dark blue, four zippers for four layers...

Allison smiled, immediately feeling better. The hospital had remembered to keep her backpack. Everything was still in there, minus her pocketknife and laptop.

Well, there was no need for textbooks now. Allison took her science, social studies, and language arts books out of her backpack, stacking them onto her desk. Then she removed her orchestra binder, hesitating as she did so. Allison loved the viola. Parting with her orchestra binder was like parting with her music.

No time for sentiment, she thought, removing the binder and placing it at the top of her stack. She zipped up the now-empty backpack, and slung it onto her shoulder. Maybe some weight was missing, but she felt almost normal.

Allison took long, even breaths, mulling over the events of last night. Merlin had said something about fairy tales being real...that guy named Merlin...a fairy tale dragon had raked Jason's hair...she had made friends with a ninja girl named Mulan...

The room and the curtain were her only pieces of evidence that she was not dreaming back in the IBS room.

Allison made her way down the hall, glancing around. The hall was relatively empty. Everyone had probably already went down for breakfast.

She turned into the second hall and began climbing the stairway. The stairs curved the same way as last night...the hall was the same: light green walls, chandeliers on the roof, carpeted floors.

She entered the Mess Hall and began salivating.

Even though Allison had had a large dinner last night, she was instantly ravenous as soon as she smelled the Mess Hall.

Bacon, eggs, fruits, veggies, cereal, oatmeal, porridge, ham, and a ton of other smells combined into one delicious scent of 'Breakfast'. Allison grinned and jogged into the room, savoring the sound of silverware clinking on plates.

"Allison!"

Allison turned. Mulan sat at the same table from dinner last night, grinning. Across the table, a young woman of twenty or so years of age sat there, twirling a knife in her hands.

"This is Red," Mulan introduced. "Her full name is Reyna Diana Anderson, and, when she was younger, she was called--"

"--Little Red Riding Hood," Allison finished. "Guys, really, you know I don't believe in fairy tales."

"It's okay," Mulan replied gently. "Come on, I got your breakfast. The buffet's already closed."

Red had dull black hair cropped short like Allison's, and large, deep-set caramel brown eyes. She looked welcoming, yet firm, flexible, yet stubborn. Seeing the way Mulan smiled at Red, Allison knew that Red was like Mulan's older sister. In a way, she felt a little envious.

"Eat up," Red stated gently. She sounded gentle, but Allison couldn't help but eye the dagger in her hands. "You've got a long day of training."

"Training? For what?"

"How do you think we're going to fight the Wolf? We don't have a choice with training. As soon as Merlin thinks you and that boy Jason are ready, he's gonna plop you into the army, give you armor, and send you out to fight--unless you prove to be strategically smart."

"Fight the Big Bad Wolf? Are you kidding?"

Red frowned. "No. Of course not."

"With guns? I'm a minor. I'm only eleven. I have no clue how to fight. Merlin's made if he thinks I can join the army!"

Red raised her eyebrows. "I joined at age twelve. Mulan joined at age eight."

"What?! Age twelve and eight?!"

Mulan nodded. "Yes. And we don't use guns."

"What--oh." Allison glanced at Red's dagger, then remembered Mulan's bow and arrows. "Why?"

"Now you're talking," Mulan said, smiling. "We don't use guns because metal is a mortal resource. That is more modern. Fairians and mortal tools...we don't mix well. Besides airplanes, cannons, catapults, and occasional tanks, we don't use modern technology. Our battle has already turned to cold warfare."

"But if this Wolf is real, can't we use guns to turn the tide on him?"

"No. As I said, Fairians and mortal tools cannot combine. Fairian blood is special. Because fairy tales were created in the old times, we are created specially to use the resources from the Old Times, fight how we fought in the Old Times, etc..."

"Oh. But second-timers...they are born in the...New Times?"

Red nodded. "Correct. But it is your first life that matters, because that is when you started. Your second life is merely given to you because you have a second chance. Your first life is the starting point of both your lives."

"Oh."

"Eat your breakfast," Mulan urged. "Or else breakfast will end. We've got a long day of training."

Allison didn't ask anything else, though her head was still buzzing with questions, all originating from the main question: Are fairy tales real? She knew they could not be real, though everyone here seemed totally convinced that they were.

Allison started on her breakfast. Slices of pineapple, mango, and strawberries were lined in one plate, cinnamon oatmeal dusted with sugar in a bowl. There was a small cup of honey yogurt, sprinkled with nuts and raisins. Two strips of bacon (healthy, Mulan said, because of the 'magic' in the hospital) laid in another plate. Two crispy golden flapjacks, topped with thick, sugary maple syrup and a dot of butter, resided in the last plate.

"Oh gosh," Allison said. "This is good."

"You haven't had anything like this before?" Mulan asked.

"Yep," Allison responded, digging into her oatmeal. "The IBS food was all disgusting and moldy."

Both Red and Mulan laughed, and Allison suddenly had a sense of being in a family.

Family. That word brought up a whole new subject.

"Guys," Allison said, swallowing, "if I'm a second-timer...does that mean I don't have a mom, a dad, and other relatives? That I'm an orphan?"

"Technically..." Mulan began. She dug her fingernails into her apple. "Well, the story says that you were adopted by Arielle, the evil queen. Remember, it's your first life that matters. So, if that's the case...you do have a mom and dad, it's just that the adoption records are probably gone by now."

"Adoption records," Allison repeated. "So that means I'll never know--"

"No, not that!" Mulan exclaimed. "No, I never said that. It's just that it'll be a bit harder to find who your parents are."

"A bit," Allison said. "Thanks."

Mulan patted Allison's back. "It's okay. You belong here, and you're our family now. Don't worry."

That just made Allison worry more, but she didn't have time to ask.

Merlin was standing up, clearing his throat. "Attention. Attention."

It seemed strange to Allison that Merlin hadn't been there last night at dinner. Maybe he had been out doing old-man stuff.

"Attention!" Merlin shouted. The crowd quieted down, and he cleared his throat. "Ahem. We are here today to welcome two new members to their new home: Jason Yang and Allison Yin!"

There was a large round of applause.

"Quiet!" Merlin ordered. "Applause later. I request one thing from all of you: to be as generous, courteous, and well-behaved as you possibly can for the new members of our family."

Allison glanced in the direction of Prince William Charming. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and winked.

Allison turned away. Jason, however, looked like he wanted to vomit. He stared wide-eyed at Merlin, clutching his gut. Beside him...three little pigs? Jason had made friends with the three little pigs?

Merlin continued his speech. "Red, Mulan, take Allison to the Weapons Room to get her fitted up. Hammy, Bacon, Porkers, do the same with Jason."

The three pigs stood up and grunted something to Jason. Jason grinned and followed them out of the Mess Hall.

"We need weapons?" Allison asked Red. Mulan was taking their trays to the drop-off.

"Of course," Red exclaimed. "How else would you fight? No guns allowed. Would you fistfight? Nobody can fistfight a wolf, much less the Wolf."

"Okay," Allison said. She was still pretty confused. Fairy tales were not real. They could not be real.

Mulan came back. "Wait," she said. "I need to wash my hands." She vanished out the door.

"Why does everyone think fairy tales are real here?" Allison asked Red.

Red stared at her. "Because they are."

"Uh, this might be impolite...but how old are you?"

Red's stare turned into a scowl. "Twenty-one years old."

"Sorry for asking."

"Think before you speak."

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence. After a while, Red spoke again.

"Sorry. That was a bit mean."

"It's okay. I shouldn't have asked."

Mulan came back, her hands smelling like lemon soap. "Okay," she said. She glanced at Red and then Allison. "Let's go."

The Weapons Room was conveniently located right next to the Mess Hall. Mulan pulled open the door and Allison whistled in admiration.

"Whoa."

The Weapons Room was easily the size of two football fields, with plenty of space for several herds of rhinoceroses. Various weapons were lined against a wall: so many that Allison lost count at the one section right next to her.

"Impressive, huh?" Mulan chuckled.

They walked inside, and the door closed behind them.

"So," Mulan said. "Let's start with short-ranged weapons."

Allison took a look around. "Oh, come on."

Spiked balls, swords, spears, maces, staffs, tridents, hatchets, machetes, hammers, and daggers lined up against several walls. 

"We seriously have to look through all of that?"

Mulan gave her a strange look. "Unless you want to be shish-ka-bobbed by your wonderful friends the wolves."

Allison sighed. "Well, then, let's start."

"A sword and dagger is the easiest to carry around," Red started. "Maces and spiked balls do the most damage. Staffs are the lightest, and tridents can be very fast. Spears are the deadliest short-ranged weapons, being quick, long, and very sharp."

There was a sudden yell and a clatter at the other end of the hall. Allison could barely make out what was happening, but she saw Jason swinging a spear around, sending armor and swords clattering to the ground.

"Oh, gosh, Jason!" Mulan muttered. She started down the hall. 

"Well," Red continued, "we'd better start if you're going to get to your training on time. We do give you half an hour to get started, however. Jason's schedule starts later than yours, because we want to tutor you privately."

"Oh. Well, that's a relief." Allison didn't want a spear-swinging klutz in her training session.

At the other end of the hall, Jason yelled again, swinging his spear. The pile of daggers in the far corner clattered into a mess.

"Jason!" Mulan shouted. "Stop that!"

The three little pigs were covering their heads, trying not to be sliced into pork chops.

Allison caught little snips of conversation.

"Why didn't you stop him?" Mulan yelled at the pigs.

"We tried!" The first one snorted. All the pigs were standing on their hind legs. The first one had on a bright yellow T-shirt with a large smiley face on the back (Allison was sure he had worn the T-shirt the wrong way), and worn-out jeans. The second one had on pink turtleneck with beige khaki shorts decorated with the pattern of palm trees. The third one had a sky-blue sleeveless tank top along with brick red shorts.

"Clean up this mess," Mulan snapped sharply to Jason. "Now."

Together, the five of them began cleaning up the scattered daggers and swords.

"Well," Red declared, "that was some...disturbance. Now let's get to work. What do you want?"

"Um..." Allison felt uncomfortable. This seemed too unrealistic. Weapons for an eleven-year-old?

"It's okay," Red soothed. "I was like this, too. Don't worry, we'll get you something. Just choice which one you like best."

"Umm...well, a sword would be nice?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I think."

"Well, then give them a try."

"All of them?"

"No, just try the ones which look nice."

"The ones which look nice," Allison repeated. "Sure. Something I do every day. Try out swords."

Allison took hold of a jagged blade and pulled it out of its sheath. It was surprisingly light, made of what looked like iron.

"Titanium," Red explained. "Honed and as light as aluminum."

"Oh. Cool. Can I...try more?"

"Yes. Try as many as you like."

Over on the other side, Mulan was yelling at Jason as another rack of swords went tumbling down. Allison tuned out what was going on with Jason and the pigs and started on the next sword, which, as Red introduced, was gold with nickel.

Allison tried another sword: copper. Then a bronze one. Then a sword that could turn into a bottle of sunscreen. Allison thought this was pretty useful, but it was too heavy for her to hold.

Another titanium blade, then another copper one.

"This one's good for you," Red commented. She gestured towards the second titanium blade. "This isn't any regular titanium. It's magically enchanted. It'll cut through almost all the metal in the world, even the enchanted ones. It's extremely useful."

Allison wasn't exactly sure. "You sure this blade is, you know, good for me?"

"Yes. But it's up to you to decide."

"I...well, fine, then." Allison decided to follow Red's advice. After all, Red was an expert on weapons.

Allison sheathed the blade cautiously and held it awkwardly in her hands. "Um, is there any way I can put it into my backpack?"

It sounded ridiculous, but Red nodded. "Yes." She snapped her fingers.

There was a flash of silver light, a bang, and, all of a sudden, the blade was a pocketknife.

"Flip the blade out and it'll turn into the sword."

"Oh. Thanks." Allison noticed how similar it was to the one she had had in the IBS. But even more shocking was how Red had turned it into a pocketknife. "How? How did you--"

"Morgan'll show you. She's the magic expert."

"Morgan le Fay?"

"Who else?"

"Oh. That's...surprising."

"Why does your pocketknife look like that?"

"Wha--oh. I had one similar to that one."

"No wonder."

"What about the swords on the other side of the hall?"

"We can go look, but those are for beefy, strong men. No offense."

"None taken. Can we move on?"

"Sure. Bows and arrows next?"

"Oh, I don't really care...but sure."

Red chuckled. "You should care. Come on, crossbows or longbows or bows?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. Longbows fire greater distances, crossbows have a loading tray and are a bit more modern, and bows are easier to carry."

"I thought you guys can't have modern things."

"More modern doesn't mean thirty-million century modern. Come on."

Allison followed Red to the bows and the quivers of arrows hung over several mangled punching bags. She noticed throwing stars strewn all over the floor.

"Throwing stars? You guys use throwing stars?"

"Easier to set up than a bow and arrow, and still long-ranged. Why not practice?"

"Okay..."

Red handed Allison a crossbow. "How does it look?"

"Are we judging this only by looks?"

"Ah, so you know the difference between quality and appearance. But appearance often reflects the quality in the world of weapons."

"Sure."

"We don't design for looks. We design for speed, strength, and easiness to wield."

"Who designs these?"

"They're imported from highly trusted employers. Usually sponsors of the hospital."

Stranger and stranger. Sponsors for a hospital in a mountain range unknown to anyone else. Fire-breathing dragons. Buff surfer guys who liked her. Now these highly deadly weapons.

Allison decided to not get anyone in the hospital mad.

"No, I don't like this one. It's a little too big for me."

"Well, then, try a longbow. That's what Mulan has."

"Too big, too."

"You're picky."

"Thanks for the compliment."

"I hope that wasn't sarcasm."

"I don't know, either."

Red handed Mulan another longbow. "Come on, these are the best bows from all of the Fairian world. Or what's left of it."

Allison dropped the longbow and picked up a regular bow. "Too small, now."

"Well, this one, then."

Allison put the crossbow Red gave her back onto the rack. "Too flashy."

"There's got to be something you like here," Red muttered. "Come on..."

Jason shouted at Mulan, and another suit of armor toppled over. "Jason!" Mulan yelled. "Stop it!"

Red handed Allison a longbow. "This is softened ivory. Should work for you."

"Yeah, it's good for now." Allison pulled back on the string and bent the ivory a little. It was strange to think of a bow made of ivory...but it was the best option so far.

"You probably don't need armor yet...but stealth boots and equipment for arrows...we'll get those last."

Red took down a quiver of arrows from the wall and slung them over Allison's back.

"You want a dagger?" Red asked Allison. "If your sword is disabled, you can use it in times of need. I personally find a dagger very useful."

"I'll try one of them. I'm not sure, though."

Red brought Allison over to the daggers section on the other end of the hall. "Here," she said. "Take a look around."

Mulan joined them. "Daggers?"

There was something in her voice which aroused Allison's attention. Daggers. Her dream--

Red interrupted her thought. "Allison, daggers are shorter than blades, but they're extremely easy to carry around. "Both Mulan and I like them very much."

Mulan bit her lip, but didn't say anything else. Allison could have sworn she muttered, "this one, but not that one."

"What?" Allison asked.

"Nothing," Mulan sighed. "Just...never mind."

Allison started searching through the pile of daggers. Jason and the three pigs had already left.

"Bronze?" Red asked, pulling a dagger out of the pile.

Allison laughed. "That's basically the same one as yours."

"Same, but not exactly the same. Bronze is very effective. Most Antarians cannot stand bronze."

"Antarians?"

"The Anti-Fairians."

"But aren't they Fairians as well?"

"Fairians are us. We fight for, well, you can call it the good side. We want our kind to stay safe. The Antarians want power."

"Oh." Allison wasn't exactly convinced. Both the Fairians and the Antarians would call themselves the good guys...

"Gold inlaid with platinum?" Mulan suggested quietly. She handed Allison a gleaming golden dagger, bright platinum filling the carved decorations on the side.

"Sorry..." Allison took the dagger. "No. It just...I think it's too long for me."

Red glared at a dagger and tossed it aside. "Rumplestiltskin's kitchen knife. Guess you don't want it."

"I don't."

"This one," Mulan suggested. She handed a titanium blade to Allison. It felt much too light to do any damage.

"How about copper?"

"Won't it turn green?"

"You're smart. That's why nobody uses copper."

"Okay..."

After a few more minutes, almost all the daggers were in the discard pile. Allison was getting increasingly frustrated. All the daggers were either too long, too short, too heavy, too light, too wide, too skinny.

"Is there anything that fits me?" Allison asked, tossing a platinum dagger into the discard pile. "I mean--I don't know about fairy tales...but really..."

"This one?" Red handed Allison another bronze dagger, while Mulan turned paper white.

"No, that's not good. It's too heavy. Sorry, I am picky..."

Mulan and Red exchanged one desperate glance.

"Mulan," Red began. "I'm afraid..."

"No," Mulan said. Her voice wavered. "You know what it did to me. I don't want that to happen to Allison."

"What?" Allison asked. "What's going to happen to me?"

Red tossed the dagger from hand to hand. "Silver. Inlaid with pearl."

"Can I see?"

Red glanced at Mulan, who swallowed and nodded.

"Here," Red winced. "Only a look." She handed the dagger over.

The dagger was silver, gleaming unnaturally. There was a pattern along the side: grooves that curled and waved at each other in an almost mesmerizing way. The grooves were filled in with a lightly-colored pearl, swirled together and pulsating faintly. A large, pearl-colored circle was carved into the hilt, and silver veins formed the Chinese Yin-Yang. Ornate silver carving swirled around the pearl.

Allison tossed it up and down in her hand. It was perfectly balanced. There was a hissing sound, and her eyes widened. The pearl Yin-Yang in the center glowed faintly, as if in response to her actions. Everything pearl began to shine brighter than Allison could describe. She had once looked directly into the sun, and the spots remained for hours. This was brighter. Though the light didn't leave spots, it still was as bright as three suns.

Red shielded her eyes, and Mulan closed her own. Somewhere, in what consciousness she had left, Allison vaguely remembered how bright light was damaging to eyesight.

Then she heard the voice.

So this is the new bearer of the Betrayer. Bear it well... The voice was vaguely feminine, though it was deep and threatening.

"Guys!" Allison shouted. Mulan and Red were now frozen, as if they were trapped in ice cubes.

This dagger is both a blessing and a curse. But for most unworthy bearers...it is a curse.

Allison Yin, you have been given a second chance. Use it well, or I shall quickly end that life. I am the right-hand of the Antarians, yet I am also the head and the eyes...

My dagger does not claim a new owner easily. You must have something in you. Alas, we are on different sides...though we are easily on the same. You bear the Heaven. Many curses have been placed upon your shoulders. Your second life shall end not at my hands, I have seen, but the one who loves you the most. It shall, because that is what happened with all who have bore this dagger.

Be warned, Allison Yin, that our time is coming. We shall enter the fight, I bearing your weapon, you bearing mine. Betrayer is named for a reason. It is made to doubt your love, to turn back upon the ones who love you. Beware, daughter of the Heaven. You are now, from this moment until your second death, bonded with Betrayer.

Allison staggered back, dropping the dagger. The silver blade clanged onto the ground.

"Allison!" Red's eyes were wide. "Weren't you just stand there--"

"I heard a voice," Allison said, unable to prevent her own voice from shaking. "It said, never mind, I'll tell you later--"

Allison's hands were shaking. "Okay, guys, I have everything. Can I go..."

Red took Allison's hands in her own. "No, you don't have everything. You don't need to tell me now, but you must tell Merlin and Morgan. They are our heads. You must. Promise me."

"I--"

"Allison, voices are not heard every day. If you hear a voice, see a vision, you must tell Merlin and Morgan. Promise me."

"I--I promise you."

"Good," Red finished. She let go of Allison's hand. "Get yourself up to your room. Your training starts at eleven-thirty."