Iris woke up in a panic, her head thumping. She lay on the bed, covered in sweat. After a moment, she settled down, searched for her fluffy companion, and pulled Winny close to her.
It was just a dream
She saw light filtering through the curtains. The sun was high in the sky. She turned and looked at the clock. It read 10:02. She couldn't recall any pressing tasks and exhaustion begged for more sleep. Still, she needed to attend to herself and Winny. Unlike the real Winny, this husk did not like baths. Nevertheless, for her companion's sake, Iris had to clean it.
Iris slipped off the bed and noticed bloodstains on the sheets. Her hand went to her face—it was wet. She didn't feel the rough texture of the bandage. A wave of panic rose but quickly subsided. Mother’s Gift was on the bed.
In that fleeting moment of panic, Iris lost control over her element. The room tore apart, the window shattered, and the doors splintered into pieces. The whole house shook, though it remained mostly unharmed. She regained control over herself just in time.
Iris picked up Mother’s Gift from the wreckage that was once her bed. Had it come loose? It had happened a few times before, and each time she reacted as though it were the end of the world.
Purple threads extended from her fingers and melded into the grey piece of cloth. It wobbled, and Iris tied it. Using thread as a helping hand was harder than it seemed, but with years of experience, she managed it.
Only after she had it back on her eyes did Iris realize the extent of the damage to the room. Her shoulders slumped in dread, and she felt ashamed for destroying the soft bed. She needed to apologize and, hopefully, repay the damages.
“Iris?” It was Ilona’s voice. She stood at the broken door, staring at her. “Are you alright?”
“I...I’m fine. I lost control for a moment,”
“Is Winny alright?”
“She's unharmed.”
Her element had never harmed Winny. She was an exception to the destruction her element caused. Ilona stepped inside, her eyes fixed on Iris. She clenched her fist upon noticing the blood on Iris’s face but said nothing. Ilona began searching for the ever-sleepy cat in the mountain of cotton before Iris had the chance to.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Ilona asked, her tone warm and inviting.
Iris shook her head. The less she shared her worries with Ilona, the better. She didn't want Ilona's concern, especially after the conversation she had with Laydell. Unlike Laydell, Ilona would force her to live and she would be powerless to deny her wishes. Ilona even showed how willing she was to use her strength to force Iris into what she deems is right. Iris knew she needed to distance herself from here as soon as the tournament ended.
“Alright, you should take a bath. I’ll take Winny with me.”
“No, I need to clean her.”
Ilona nodded and handed her the cat.
…
Hecate sat on her bed, her breath ragged, her fist clenched into the mattress until it threatened to tear. A droplet of wetness fell on the milky white fabric, and Hecate released her grip on the mattress to touch her face.
Tears.
Another sombre dream, or perhaps a nightmare. Did I dream of the Mansion again?
Hecate wiped away the tears with the palms of her hands, her breathing slowly returning to normal.
What time is it?
She gazed at the beautiful fire budgie; it blinked thrice, and its beak displayed shades of violet and yellow. 10:03. Hecate deduced from the Bird clock. How had she managed to sleep for so long? Yet, she still felt exhausted. Hecate forced herself to the edge of bed and sat up.
I should meet Master. Lady Diantha would be gone, and I didn't get to wish her a good day. I missed, after how long? 8 years.
This is the worst day ever.
Her peripheral vision caught something black at the edge. Hecate's head snapped around, her eyes fixed on the dew tree outside. There, perched atop a branch, was that vile creature. Her fist clenched again, and her vision blurred with disgust and rage.
Hecate grabbed an apple and hurled it at the raven. The apple collided with the glass window and exploded into pulp, impregnating the room with its sweet scent. The raven blurred as the juicy fruit slid down.
Hecate leapt from her bed, marched to the window, and forcefully slid it open. The window frame buckled under her anger, and the glass pane shattered, cutting into Hecate's hand.
“I HATE YOU! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Hecate's voice was filled with intense hatred, her shoulders shaking from anger. She didn't even notice the glass shard embedded in her hand, blood dripping from the wound.
The temptation to shoot a fireball to drive the raven away was at the edge of her sanity, but she knew she mustn't. That's what the raven wanted – for Hecate to lose control and kill her.
I will not give in.
“I hate you… Leave,” her outburst slowly faded, leaving behind tears and exhaustion. “Leave, I will not kill you, sis.”
Leiseruly pain seeped in. Hecate turned away.
The raven spread its wings, glancing one last time at the quivering form of Hecate with its amber eyes, and then flew away. A tear fell from its eye and burned away like a dying flame.
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Hecate hissed in pain as she pulled out the shard of glass. Blood splattered on her lap and on the cute pink carpet adorned with her favourite cartoon character. Followed by tears.
This is the worst day ever.
The fire budgie let out a cry, as it always did when someone approached Hecate's room. However, sounds fell deaf to Hecate's ears as she contemplated whether to go to the Healer or burn the wound. A sweet whisper in her ears lured her into thinking that the pain might distract her from the vile bird.
Hecate conjured a ball of fire. It was red, and the heat emanating from it charred the edge of the leaves in the flower pot next to the bed. The flower had been a gift from Ilona, and it usually helped her sleep peacefully.
The doorknob twisted, and Diantha pulled back the door to find Hecate bleeding with molten magma in her hand. “Hecate!” Diantha hurried to Hecate's side. The heat from the fireball was painful to her unguarded skin, and it might even burn her if she got too close. The worry and panic after seeing Hecate’s condition flushed her calm and collected thoughts down the drain.
Hecate looked up and, through her blurry vision, noticed Diantha. She quickly extinguished the flame and concealed her wounded hand.
“Lady Diantha!” Hecate spoke, startled, panicked, and anxious. She could see her Lady’s skin that had turned red from the heat of her flame. Her pain vanished in afterthought as the worry for Diantha settled in. Hecate cursed herself for harming Lady Diantha.
“What happened?” Diantha gently asked, her eyes filled with worry. She took Hecate’s hidden hand as she stared at her for an explanation.
“I saw… it, again,” Hecate spoke, her voice lacking energy.
“I see…” Diantha sat beside her. “We need to heal your hand.”
“I will do that…” Hecate’s voice died in her throat under Diantha’s stare. Even if Diantha did not ask her, Hecate knew Diantha had seen her and wanted an explanation. But Diantha would not push her for an answer. Her gentle nature was such—she never forced anyone into discomfort. It left Hecate feeling even more guilty.
“No, I have a healing talisman with me,” Diantha spoke as she pulled a small white box-like object from her coat’s pocket.
“A healing talisman? I thought you did not like carrying those?” Hecate asked, pleading to change the topic.
“Something happened recently, and I decided having one would be better. It seems I was right,” Diantha explained. She broke the talisman and spread it on Hecate’s wound, enveloping the hand in a soothing white glow.
Hecate felt that itch, the most irritating one. She would have scratched it until it bled; she hated talisman’s healing. But she could not scratch her hand; Diantha held it. She could only clench her jaw and bear through it. Perhaps her lady was aware of what she would have done, and that’s why she held it. She was manipulative like that.
“It’s over,” Diantha whispered and patted her head, just like she always did when Hecate did something correct, something good, or anything that Diantha wanted her to do. On God, she would murder a flock of Gigyaki to get that pat.
A smile blossomed on Hecate’s face. “What are you doing here?” Hecate asked. The memory of morning was already buried in some corner of her mind where they would not get in her joyous mood.
Diantha smiled, “I waited a long time for you to come down, then decided I would check myself. After all, the sun could turn blue before my Hella will miss wishing me a good day.”
Hecate’s room was in the tower behind the Mansion, which had been built specifically for Ilona. It was a long walk from the main mansion.
“I don’t know how I slept so long,” Hecate furrowed her brows as she tried to think of a non-existent reason. The next moment, she hugged Diantha tightly. “I’m sorry; I thought I would miss it today. Thank you for not going away.” Her voice was filled with emotion, and she didn't hide anything she felt.
“I know; I will never leave before meeting you. Don’t worry,” Diantha reassured her and patted Hecate’s head.
“You’re always so kind,” Hecate said, feeling overwhelmed with happiness. To be born a vassal of someone so caring and kind. It made her feel like she was part of Diantha's family. She had never once felt like an outsider.
“If I am not, who will be?”
Indeed. Hecate agreed. Diantha was kind, for she was born to fill the role of Mother in everyone’s life who needed one.
La La La…
Hecate’s ears perked up. Iris was singing. The sound lifted the remaining tension from her shoulders. Hecate couldn't help but feel that Iris's voice was magical. Of course, she knew it was magic, but magic alone couldn't make someone's voice so pleasant to hear.
“Why is Iris singing so early in the morning?” Hecate asked as she let go of her Lady.
“Perhaps she is missing… you,” Diantha suggested.
“Right!” Hecate jumped off the bed, deciding it was time to meet her newest family member.
Hecate stopped as she grabbed the doorknob, realizing she had forgotten about her lady. “My Lady, will you accompany me?” Hecate spoke in an exaggerated tone and flourished a perfect bow that she had learned from Felix.
Diantha chuckled at her childish display. “Go ahead, I know you’re very excited to meet her. I’ll be right behind you.”
“As my lady commands.”
Hecate twisted the knob, but before she opened the door, another question gnawed at her. “Lady Diantha, do you think Iris will stay with us after she brings back whatever ath she is searching for?”
Hecate wanted her to stay. Iris looked hurt and weak, even if she was super strong. Someone needing a warm hug, something only Hecate had. And for that, she was shamelessly proud of.
“You just have to convince her to stay if she does not want to. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go anyway. Can you do that?”
Was it a challenge? Hecate thinks so.
“You bet I will,” Hecate declared as she opened the door. Ah! She forgot, turning back to her Lady. “Lady Diantha, a good day to you. May Mother bless us all.”
“May Mother bless you,” Diantha replied with a warm smile, sending Hecate off on her mission.
Hecate dashed through the narrow passage and entered the Mansion from the back door, humming and jumping as she followed Iris’s voice.
Today is the best day ever.
Getting a pat from her lady and now hearing Iris’s joyous hum had lifted her spirits so high that she didn't even slip on the stairs. Hecate walked down the hall when she was assaulted—by the alluring scent of cakes, not just any cakes, but chocolate cakes.
Iris’s voice became a pleasant background tune as her attention shifted to the kitchen.
She must have cake.
As she changed her path to head to the kitchen, she remembered her initial plan to meet Iris. A conflict on the level of the Trinity War waged within her mind. After a deep and long debate, she came to a rather philosophical conclusion: she was going to the kitchen in order to get a cake for Iris as well. Cake would make Iris happy too.
While convincing herself that she was doing the right thing, she noted the lingering Lightning element in the Mansion. She wondered what that was about, but the sweet and delicious scent of cake wiped away whatever little thinking capacity she had.
Today, if Viktor or that old hag tried to bar her from having the cake, they had another thing coming. Nothing would ruin her great mood today.
Hecate stood at the precipice of being discovered as she stared at the tray full of cakes. She had to have it. Her eyes glanced around and discovered the old hag and Viktor both in the kitchen.
Hecate locked eyes with the cruel old hag. Discovered. Hecate cursed under her breath as she dashed for the tray. Now, the cover was blown—it was a face-to-face battle with two of her arch-enemies.
“That’s mine…!” With Iris’s magical voice giving her a boost, she was ready to win this holy war.