Cassian stared at Cecilia's retreating form, his throat tightening. Blood streaked the ground in a long, uneven trail where the Baron's broken body dragged behind her.
The chimera followed at her heel, obedient, eerily calm, like a hound that had just tasted its first kill.
Vivian rubbed her arms as if suddenly cold. "C-Cassian… did you see her eyes?"
He swallowed hard. "Yeah."
"She looked…" Vivian struggled for the words. "Like she was enjoying it."
Cassian didn't answer. Because the truth was worse Cecilia hadn't just enjoyed it.
She thrived in it.
Vivian bit her lip until it trembled. "We were fighting for our lives and she—she was watching us. Not even worried. Not even—"
"She only stepped in when we were about to die." Cassian's voice came out rougher than he expected. "She could've saved us so much pain. But she just stood there."
Cassian clenched his jaw. He remembered vividly the cold, expressionless stare Cecilia had given the knights, the way she moved only when their blades were inches from their throats. As though she were testing something. Measuring something.
Maybe them.
He exhaled shakily. "She's not like us."
"No," Vivian said, her voice breaking a little.
They both flinched at the truth of it.
But then Vivian's gaze drifted to the chimera, the small one, the one Cecilia had gently coaxed out of the shadows. It walked beside her now, almost protectively, its expression fearful yet… trusting.
They watched Cecilia disappear into the darkness of the forest path, dragging the Baron like a butcher hauling meat to a table. And yet neither of them moved. Neither could take their eyes off her.
Off the girl who had fought like a demon, smiled like a predator, and walked away with a chimera at her side like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Because deep down, they feared the truth. They hadn't just discovered a dark lab tonight.
They had discovered the darkness inside Cecilia.
And it was far, far worse.
"Are you sure you should be acting like that in front of them?" Nox's voice drifted beside me, quiet but sharp. "They're still children. They're not like you."
I paused mid-step, glancing back at Cassian and Vivian. They stood a few paces behind, pale and shaken, their eyes fixed on me with a mixture of fear and confusion.
Nox was right they were still children. Soft-hearted. Naive. Fragile in ways I no longer remembered how to be.
"But this is the only way I know how to protect them," I murmured. "The only way I know how to show I care."
A bitter smile touched my lips. "I just… wish it didn't have to be this way."
I turned forward again, refusing to let myself linger on their expressions. If I hesitated, I would waver. And I couldn't afford to waver, not now.
"And this chimera?" Nox pressed, his tone growing heavier. "You do realize the spell you're planning to use is dangerous. You haven't forgotten what happened the last time you cast it… have you?"
I froze. Of course, I hadn't forgotten. The memory was carved into me along with the scars it left behind.
"So what?" I said, voice low. Yes, the spell has consequences. Severe ones.
My gaze drifted to the small chimera trailing behind me, its mismatched eyes full of terrified hope. "I'm not leaving him behind. If I can save him, I will—without a second thought."
Nox sighed, the sound exasperated but tinged with reluctant affection. "You're impossible. Absolutely impossible."
I shot him a grin, sharp and unapologetic.
He shook his head, defeated. "What am I going to do with you…"
I stepped into the clearing, the chimera-child clinging to my cloak like a trembling shadow. The moonlight pooled over us like spilt mercury, cold, silent, expectant. Perfect for this kind of magic.
"Stay back," I warned without looking at Cassian or Vivian.
They stopped immediately, but I could feel their fear tightening the air behind me like a coiled wire.
I knelt before the chimera.
Its stitched skin quivered; its mismatched eyes flickered with both fear and trust.
"Do you still want this?" I asked quietly. "Your body… will hurt. Your memories will burn. You might forget everything. You might remember too much. Once we begin, you can't turn back."
The chimera nodded. A tiny gesture. A brave one.
I exhaled slowly, raising my hands.
Nox's presence settled behind my shoulder as a firm reassurance.
"Fine," I murmured. "Let's begin."
The first pulse of magic cracked the earth.
Light blue, sharp, and alive, a burst emanated from my palms, forming a circle around the child. Runes flared to life at my feet, slithering outward like serpents awakening after decades of sleep.
Wind whipped through the clearing, though the trees stood completely still.
The spell had swallowed every other sound.
The chimera screamed.
Its voice tore the night open, a sound too human and too broken.
Its body convulsed violently, seams ripping, bones contorting. Flesh writhed beneath the light, shifting between what it had been forced to become and what it had once been.
Blood spattered across the glowing symbols, sizzling as it hit the lines of the array.
My vision blurred. The magic clawed into me, demanding more.
It didn't matter.
The runes changed shape, tightening, stabilizing, forcing the body into coherence.
Bones reformed. Flesh knits cleanly.
The stitched abomination slowly shrank, reshaping into the fragile outline of a small boy.
The final surge of mana ripped through me like a hundred blades. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted iron but didn't stop.
With a final flash, the circle shattered.
The boy collapsed forward, unconscious but breathing normally.
It was done.
Silence crashed over the clearing.
When I turned toward Cassian and Vivian, their faces were pale, eyes wide, stunned, and awe-struck.
Vivian took a shaky step forward.
"C-Cecilia… What was that? What did you just do?"
"Something stupid," Nox muttered behind me.
Cassian stared at me as if he didn't recognize the person standing in front of him.
I ignored him and lifted the small boy gently into my arms. He curled instinctively against me, breathing softly.
Cassian flinched as if the tenderness itself frightened him more than the spell.
Vivian whispered, barely audible, "You… saved him. You really saved him."
"I told him I would. And I don't break my promises."
Cassian and Vivian said nothing more there was too much they didn't understand, too much they'd just seen.
Too much darkness.
Too much of me.
I felt it finally felt the consequences of the spell like a tidal wave tearing through the edges of my control.
My vision wavered. My breath hitched. The ground tilted.
"Vivian," I said tightly, pressing the small boy into her arms, "hold him."
Before either of them could speak, I turned and bolted toward the forest.
"Cecilia—!"
"Don't follow me!" I shouted, voice cracking. "Stay where you are!"
As I stumbled deeper into the trees. Every step burned, every heartbeat sent another pulse of agony ripping through me. The spell's aftershock clawed down my spine, cold and suffocating.
By the time my knees buckled, I barely caught myself on a tree trunk.
Then the first wave hit.
A violent shudder cut through me, and a mouthful of blood spilt past my lips, splattering hot across my hands, my shirt, the dirt. The metallic taste drowned my tongue, thick enough to choke on.
I sucked in a breath, sharp, jagged, and another spasm wracked my body. My fingers dug into the bark, knuckles white, but the world still spun.
"I told you," Nox's voice drifted through the shadows, angry yet unbearably soft. "I told you, and you still did it. You nearly killed yourself this time."
He stepped out of the darkness beside me, and even as he scolded me, his hand pressed to my back, steady, supportive. His touch kept me tethered to the world I was slipping from.
"You may have a tremendous reservoir of mana, Lia," he continued, tone tight with restrained frustration, "but you drained it down to the bone. You were one breath away from death."
Another cough tore through me. Blood dripped down my chin. My lungs shook.
"Heh… hehehe…" The laugh that escaped me was weak, broken. "I won't… do it next time."
Nox's grip on my shoulder tightened.
"You always say that," he murmured, the irritation in his voice unable to hide the worry beneath. "But I know you."
I slumped down the tree, barely able to keep myself upright. My muscles trembled relentlessly, my vision flickering like a dying candle.
"This will be the last time," I whispered, though the words were slurred, breathless. "I promise…"
"You're terrible at promises," Nox sighed.
He guided me down gently until I was sitting against the roots, my body still shaking with pain.
"Rest," he said firmly. "Those kids can wait."
His shadow curled around me, warm and protective, shielding me from the night air as the pain continued to reverberate through every bone.
I don't know how long I sat there, trembling.
Minutes? Hours? Time had lost meaning beneath the ache clawing through my bones.
Nox crouched beside me, his presence a firm against the world's sharp edges. "You need to stay still," he murmured. "If you move now, you'll tear your mana vein again."
I wanted to answer, but my throat burned too much to speak.
Then—
"Cecilia!"
My eyes snapped open.
No…
I told them not to follow.
Branches cracked, leaves rustled and two silhouettes burst into the clearing, breathing hard, eyes wide.
Cassian froze first.
His sword slipped from his hand with a dull thunk as he took in the sight of me pale, blood smeared across my mouth and shirt.
"Cecilia… what…what happened to you?" he whispered, voice breaking.
"What are you two doing here? I specifically said you weren't to follow me."
Vivian ran to my side, knees hitting the ground as she reached for me. "You told us not to follow," she choked out, "but how could we not? You looked like you were dying!"
Her hands hovered over me, trembling violently, afraid to touch.
"Vivian," I rasped, swallowing the iron taste in my mouth, "I told you to stay… with the boy."
"He's safe. But you—You look like you're barely alive."
I lowered my gaze. I didn't want them to see me as this broken, a thin thread of breath away from collapsing completely. Not after everything I'd forced them to witness.
Vivian's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You always act like you're untouchable. Like nothing can bring you down. But Cecilia, you're human too."
Cassian dropped to one knee, fists clenched so tight they shook. "Why didn't you call for us? Why did you run alone?"
Because I didn't want to scare you.
Because you're still children.
Because if you saw this me when I'm barely holding myself together, you'd understand exactly what I am.
But none of those words left my mouth.
Instead, I forced out the smallest breath of truth.
"I… didn't want you to worry."
Their expression crumpled.
Vivian let out a shaky breath. "Idiot," she whispered, voice cracking. "You terrifying, reckless idiot."
And without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around me carefully but desperately.
I stiffened, unused to the warmth.
"Next time," she said quietly, voice trembling, "you don't get to decide alone. We're in this with you."
Their presence pressed in warm, stubborn, painfully sincere.
Nox sighed deeply beside us. "They're not letting you die," he muttered. "Whether you like it or not."
And for the first time, I let myself lean into someone else.
Just for a moment.
Just long enough to breathe.
We soon made our way out of the forest. My steps were steadier now, still aching, still a little unbalanced, but stable enough that I didn't need anyone's shoulder. Not that Cassian or Vivian cared; the moment I so much as wobbled, their eyes snapped to me like overprotective hawks.
The baron hung limp and unconscious as Cassian dragged him across the underbrush, muttering under his breath about "proper punishments" and "vile nobles." Vivian walked beside him, cradling the small boy against her chest with careful gentleness. His breathing was soft, peaceful—too peaceful for a child who had just been freed from a nightmare.
By the time we exited the forest, dawn had broken fully. The morning sun spilt across the village roofs in soft gold, making everything look deceptively serene. For Cassian and Vivian, this was their first real completion of a mission bloody, terrifying, and unforgettable. A memory that would carve itself into who they would become.
We walked in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts.
Then—
"Cecilia," Cassian said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What about the knights? We never found them. Not a single body, not a trace. Where… where are they?"
Ah.
That question.
I stopped walking.
Vivian looked over too, eyes wide with the same unspoken question. They were waiting for an answer I really didn't want to give.
"Well…" I started slowly.
How exactly was I supposed to tell them the truth?
That the knights had been butchered, chopped apart like livestock and dumped into a rotting well behind that cottage, fed piece by piece to the chimeras until nothing human remained?
There was no gentle way to say that.
So I went with the only option left: the truth.
"They were used as food for the chimeras," I said flatly.
"WHAT?!" they both screamed in unison, voices echoing through the quiet village like startled birds.
I winced.
Argh. Why did that come out so bluntly?
"No—I mean—they were…" I tried to fix it, but the sentence crashed and burned immediately.
There was no repairing this. Not anymore.
"…Forget it," I sighed.
From behind me, Nox's dry voice slipped into my mind.
"No, there isn't. You've doomed this conversation."
I clicked my tongue.
They both looked pale and wanted to vomit at the same time.
And I… simply kept walking.
Whether they liked it or not, this was the world they had stepped into.
And there was no turning back now.
The boy stirred long before we had barely crossed the gates of the baron's mansion when a soft, broken whimper escaped the child's throat. Vivian froze mid-step, tightening her hold as his small fingers twitched against her shoulder. His eyelids fluttered open, dazed, glassy, as though he were waking from a nightmare he hadn't truly escaped.
"Easy," Vivian whispered, her voice gentler than I'd ever heard. "You're safe now."
Safe. A fragile word. An unconvincing one, considering the blood drying on my collar and the unconscious Baron Cassian dragged like a sack of grain.
The moment we stepped into the courtyard, the staff erupted in chaos.
"L-Lords!"
"Someone fetch the physician!"
"Master Rowan—he's alive—he's truly—!"
Footsteps pounded against the stone. Servants poured out of doorways, hands to their mouths, eyes shining with disbelief. The head maid, a stern, greying woman who looked like she'd weathered storms far worse than noble tantrums, fell to her knees the moment she saw the boy.
"My sweet boy," she whispered, trembling as she cupped his cheek. Tears slid down her face in silent, painful streaks. "Oh, thank the heavens… we thought— we thought—"
The child flinched at her touch, breath hitching, gaze darting around the courtyard as if expecting monsters to crawl out from behind the hedges. Vivian shifted, shielding him without a second thought.
Cassian dumped the unconscious baron at the servants' feet. The thud made several maids shriek.
"He's alive," Cassian said before anyone could ask. "Barely. But alive."
The staff stared at him then at me. Their stares lingered too long. I wiped the blood at the corner of my mouth before they noticed. Too late. A few gasped anyway.
It wasn't a concern in their eyes. It was fear. Respect. Wariness. No, a hint of all three. They didn't know what I'd done, but they sensed it, the way prey senses a predator passing through the grass.
The boy's small voice broke the tension. "Wh… where's Father?"
The servants stiffened.
Nox murmured inside my mind, "This is your mess. Your line to deliver, Lia."
I exhaled slowly.
"Your father will be arriving soon," I said, stepping forward despite the ache clawing through my ribs. Even though I said I don't know who the boy's father is. The servants might know since they recognize him.
The boy stared at me wide, hollow, searching for truth. And I let him see it: the promise, the violence beneath it, the certainty.
Something in him eased.
The head maid rose shakily and bowed deep, reverent, almost afraid.
"You… saved him. All of us. The household will always be in your debt."
Cassian cleared his throat sheepishly.
Vivian shifted the boy into the maid's arms with gentle care.
And I—
I simply straightened my back and tried not to sway.
The consequences of the spell still gnawed at me, but I forced a small smile.
"We did our job," I said. "That's all."
The maid approached the child gently, hands held out as if soothing a frightened animal.
"It's alright, sweetheart," she whispered. "Come with me—"
The moment her fingers brushed his arm, the boy snapped.
A strangled cry tore from his throat as he thrashed violently in her hold kicking, clawing, twisting like he was drowning in invisible hands. His panic was so raw it scraped the air. The maid stumbled back, struggling to restrain him without hurting him.
"It's okay—it's okay, young master—!" she gasped, but he only fought harder, eyes wild and blind with terror.
Cassian stepped forward, but the boy's gaze flicked past him.
And landed on me.
The instant he saw me—
He froze.
Not calm. Not soothed.
Stopped, knowing I was the only one he could trust in this place
Then, trembling from head to toe, he tore free from the maid's arms and stumbled across the space between us, collapsing against my legs. His fingers clutched at my cloak with desperate strength, knuckles white. His breath hitched against the fabric ragged, broken sobs muffled in the folds of my clothes.
I slowly lowered myself to his level.
The moment my arms came around him, his shaking eased not fully, but enough that he no longer looked like he was drowning. His small hands clung to the front of my shirt, refusing to let go even when I tried gently loosening his grip.
"It's okay," I murmured, brushing a hand over his matted hair. "You're safe now."
He pressed closer, as if trying to disappear into the safety of my shadow.
When the head maid reached for him again, he clung tighter, a tiny whimper breaking from his throat.
"I know," I whispered to him, "but you need to rest. They'll take care of you."
He shook his head violently and buried his face against my shoulder.
I sighed softly.
Even I, who'd seen horrors far worse than this, could feel a sting behind my ribs.
"I'm not leaving," I told him quietly. "I'll be right behind you."
He hesitated…
…then, very slowly, loosened his grip.
But even as the maid guided him away, his eyes stayed locked on me filled with fear, hope, and a small, fragile trust he'd given to no one else.
To be continued...