Chapter one

A/N: Well, here's chapter one! I hope it lives up to y'all's expectations. This is dedicated to my friend Abbey, who this is written for. Luv ya, Abbey!!

Chapter One

The Illuse and the Mesmer.

Two fairy sisters locked forever in an eternal battle. No one remembers why it began, or how long it has gone on. Is the war simply because they have always been warring, or is it something deeper? Is it something that was engrained into our very souls, or is it simply because we always have hated each other? I tend to believe the former.

Whatever it is, it is part of who we are.

The Mesmer truly despise the Illuse, calling them conjurers and purgers. The main reason is, perhaps, that the Mesmer cannot control the mind of the reclusive Illuse.

The Illuse abhor the Mesmer, calling them deceivers and swindlers. Theough the Mesmer cannot mentally control the Illuse, they are masters of deceit and all kinds of acts.

Where does this leave me? The two halves of me repel each other, tearing me apart. The two halves of me are locked an a deadly dance for control… and neither will win.

I'm half Mesmer, and half Illuse. I fight succumbing to drowning in the constant pain. You could say… I fight insanity.

You all use the word 'insane' so lightly. You have no idea what it's like.

I feel constantly on the edge of oblivion, cursed to walk the fine line between control and insanity for eternity. My mind feels like it is going to snap in two pieces, leaving me in faint, but constant pain. And you know what? I fight to keep myself there. If I did not, I would be torn apart. Do you understand what it truly means to lose control? You lose control and get grounded. I lose control and find myself facing an eternity alone… well, more alone than I already am. My two selves are fighting for control, and soon I'm going to be the casualty.

I'm not going to say that every second is spent fighting for control. No, at times, I feel almost normal. Almost.

In that mindset, I entered the small, crowded aircraft. I could feel every heartbeat around me, and every breath of air. I suppose that the humans in the aircraft could not smell the staleness of the air, but every breath felt like poison in this tin can.

In any case, the airplane rumbled under my feet and chatter surrounded me as people strapped themselves in for the ascent. The tin can shuddered and lifted into the air sluggishly.

Wow! I…

Ugh. I should have never…

I really like Vanilla…

I shook my head violently, massaging my temples with the tips of my fingers. Being half-Mesmer, I only hear thoughts sometimes. I would compare it to walking through a crowd and hearing snatches of conversation, but all the time. I rarely hear a complete thought, and when I do, it's disconcerting. I can sometimes tune it out, but usually I'm dealing with other things.

I was drawn back to reality by Mrs. Verity, my new foster mother.

"Abbey. Abbbbeeeeyyyy. EARTH TO ABBEY," she said sharply.

I jerked my head up as sharply as her voice. "Yes?" I asked. I made my voice especially careful and calm for my foster mother most of the time. If I used anything else, she often looked alarmed.

"I said, do you want to put on your parachute now? I'd put it on. You never know if the plane is going to crash or go wrong. And be careful to put it on over your parka…" she said nervously. She turned to her seat neighbor, babbling nervously.

I nodded. "Mmm… Okay," I murmered, sure she was no longer paying any attention to me. I pulled my parachute out from the rack and tried to get all the right straps in the right place. After about five minutes, I stood up and tapped the flight attendant on the shoulder. "Would you show me how to…" I gestured to my sad attempt to get all the straps in the right places. Shaking her head, the attendant quickly had me strapped in.

"There's always one…" she muttered, amused.

I rolled my eyes expressively and turned back to my seat, only to see it filled by a blue-eyed girl that looked about my age in a pink parka.

"Um, that was my seat," I stated calmly, with a slight edge in my voice.

"Well, you, like, left it, okay?" she said, blowing a bubble with her gum and popping it loudly. Her friend, standing beside her, gave me a nasty look.

I closed my eyes and prayed for patience. "I only left to get my parachute." I said through gritted teeth.

"You still left," the girl said, rolling her eyes.

There seemed to be a lot of that going around lately.

"She's maaad," whispered her friend, enjoyed.

I turned sharply and headed toward the emergency door and slumped against it.

We're just going to let her take our seat? A too-convincing voice in my head whispered.

Mm-hm, I thought, feigning nonchalance. In truth, I had begun to struggle for control the moment the girl had began to talk, with her sharp, high voice. I rubbed my hand along the strap of the parachute where it rubbed uncomfortably and glanced around at the blue chairs that were dotted within the tin can.

So easily taken care of… the voice sighed, regretfully.

No.

Just think, one moment, and she would be silenced forever. All it would take is…

N. O.

The voice took on a silky, layered tone. Resisting what you are will eventually destroy us…

Well, that's the first time you've said that today! I snapped back disdainfully.

We know what we are meant to do… We are meant to kill, to control… Why do you resist our calling? The voice grew slower, every word ringing with sincerity. I could feel myself half-believing it.

Shaking my head, a reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair, twisting it in my grip. The sharp, steady pain felt good, distracting me for a moment from the voice and it's seductive promises. The plane had leveled out, and we were flying over the empty Alaskan tundra

For a moment, I stared down at the dizzying drop and remembered why I had agreed for this trip.

If there's one redeeming factor in my problems, it's flying. There's almost nothing that could ever, ever compare to the sheer speed and power of burning through the air faster than a bullet from a gun. There's only one thing better than that… And that's falling.

I can practically see the eyes rolling. Why fall when you have wings? Well, what can I say, I never claimed to be completely sane, anyway There's just something in the sensation of falling that totally, completely wipes my mind of everything but pure enjoyment. Something that ALL of us enjoy.

We could go now… came the ever-present voice, slightly miffed at being ignored.

I attempted to subtly whack my head against the wall. Something pressed down under the corner of my forehead. A mighty squeal erupted from the door as it snapped open, much, much faster than it should have. A mighty force sucked me from the plane, planning to drop me into the open air. Faster than any human could, I twisted midair, grabbing onto the edge of the doorway, barely clearing my fingertips. I could feel immense pain cutting into them, and I was torn away within seconds. There was a scream, abruptly cut off as the door slid shut behind me. I tumbled though the air, barely catching a glimpse of the pilot's face. His eyes were dark. Too dark for his super-pale complexion.

Mesmer.

I immediately and skillfully panicked.

I had opened the door myself, even I knew that. But who had closed it? The pilot? The attendant? The girl in the pink parka?

The ground grew closer at an alarming speed. The wind whipped past me and the sheer joy of free fall enveloped me. It took me a few seconds to jerk myself back to my annoyingly frightening reality. Coming back to my senses, I jerked the cord. Idiots, I thought smugly as the parachute streamed out above me.

Immediately, I noticed something had gone wrong. It wasn't spreading out above me, instead, flapping like laundry on the line in the wind. "It's ripped?" I exclaimed to the open air. The parachute offset me, and suddenly I was pinwheeling through the air, the parachute strings wrapping around me. I struggled against the constricting cords. Just before my hand was pinned down, I grabbed the string for the emergency parachute pulling hard just as three strings pried loose my grip and pinned my hand to my thigh. The emergency parachute billowed out just like it was supposed to and my tumbling came to a halt. The ground was still approaching at an alarming speed, however, as I had gotten to the parachute a bit late, but I wouldn't die… I hoped.

My feet hit the ground hard. I could feel the jarring impact throughout my tied-up body as I landed in a snowdrift, face down. Struggling madly, I twisted until I was face-up to the icy air. The hood of my parka had fallen down, and my light brown hair was wet and full of snow.

I would die if I couldn't get free in a matter of minutes. I could already feel the cold surrounding me, slowly digging its claws deeper and deeper into my skin.

A movement caught my eye.

Underneath my dark yellow emergency parachute, something was wiggling. With a roar of anger, a giant bear-like thing burst from the parachute. It lifted its nose into the air, its red-brown fur wet. Impossibly quick, it launched itself at me, one huge paw on either side of my shoulders. It breathed superhot doggy breath into my face, and heat emanated from it. It snarled in my face, eyes almost crazed.