Instantaneously, my lungs gasp for air and suck in a huge gulp of oxygen. White light fills my vision for several long moments, blinding me before everything becomes a mix of vivid colours. Inside my body, I surge with life. My veins flood with existence and my mind buzzes with animation. It's exhilarating. My thoughts thrash around inside my head like a monster - it takes a moment to focus.

Where am I?

More importantly, who am I?

"Hello."

I turn, seeing the tall man for the first time. His hair, blacker than a starless night, is slicked back and falls down to his shoulders, exposing his wide forehead. His eyes are a bright penetrating green that I almost don't want to look into. He has sharp, menacing facial features, but wears a sadistic grin on his face as he stares me down. He is dressed in green and leather and has on shiny black shoes.

"I did good." He says, studying me from head to toe, making me glance down at myself. I wear a vibrant purple gown that flows to my bare feet. The material is soft and very beautiful. I bring a hand to my hair; curls, falling down to my waist. The strange man takes a few steps towards me, feet echoing in the small chamber. His cold hand strokes my face, making me shiver.

"Who are you?" I hear my voice whisper. Is that fear laced within the core of my voice?

His eyes sparkle. "Who am I? Don't you wish to know who you are?"

"Well, yes. I suppose I do," I agree hesitantly. "Can you tell me who I am?"

The man drops his hand from my cheek. "I created you. A girl made of air and out of my own thoughts. You were manifested within my own mind and I brought you to life. You are the result of magic."

Magic? Puzzled, I drop my gaze. "So... I am not... real?"

"To me, you are as real as everything else. But to others you are nothing but a figment of my imagination. You are invisible - like a ghost."

I look down, processing what he just said. His stare makes me uncomfortable so I avert my attention elsewhere. Away from the stranger's forceful gaze. Looking around the room, I see a golden chair, a stack of books piled in the corner, a lone mirror, a small bed with a side table adorned with berries, and nothing else. As I soak up my surroundings I realize that it's missing something... It's almost like the room of a prisoner.

"Do I have a name?"

He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips. "Auzreha."

It's a pretty name, I don't mind it. I say my name slowly, learning the feel of it on my lips and letting it drop of my tongue. Satisfied but still wary, I glance around me for a second time, aware of the man's stinging gaze. To my right and left there are two windows. Large windows that I'm surprised I missed at first glance. I place my hand upon one and flickering golden streaks follow my skin. I tap it and the gold pulses with me, blossoming at the contact. How interesting...

Across the hall, I notice there are many others in rooms similar to this one. The creatures all have horrid appearances - some with terribly disfigured faces that send shivers crawling down my spine - and they don't exactly seem pleased to be in this predicament. There are no doors out of this room, no way of exit or entree at all. In that moment I realize I actually am in the room of a prisoner. Inside, my heart practically stops. My breath catches. I whip around, wide eyed. The man has a funny look on his face; one that resembles pure arrogance and haughtiness.

"Who are you and why did you create me?" I hiss the words at him in attempt to seem brave, but I can't help but notice my knees trembling under my gown. To feel less helpless, I clench my fists. But I'm overly aware of the clammy sweat that forms in my palms.

"Now, now. That is no way to talk to your creator," He croons. I wait for an answer as my thoughts come up with awful scenarios as to how this could go, and finally he continues.

"I'm bored here," is his reply. "There's nothing to do but read these books that Mother has given me for an eternity. I wish for you, to keep me company."

I let his words sink in and settle in my bones. In short, I am an invisible girl who was created because a magical criminal is bored? Talk about pathetic.

The gaunt man steps forward suddenly, cornering me against the glass. His emerald eyes, flickering like a fire ready to demolish, settle on me dubiously.

"Kneel to me."

I hesitate, pure fear radiating throughout me. His brow furrows at my denial to his request. He releases a haughty laugh, tilting his head. Then he stops, sardonic smile falling.

"I said kneel!"

Immediately I oblige, dipping my head and hoping he cannot see how wide my eyes are. The cell floor is cold beneath my fingers, which are long and thin and trembling. The stranger sighs pridefully.

"Is this not simple? Your natural state? Learn it. You were made to be ruled."

I do not move until he backs up, and when he does I get to my feet quite slowly. Staring at him, I lower my voice. It's hardly a whisper now.

"Please, who are you?"

He sits down in the gold-rimmed, blue velvet chair and crosses his legs mockingly. "My name is Loki. Loki of Jotunheim."