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Rising Retribution
Chapter 1 : Smoke

Chapter 1 : Smoke

Chapter I: Smoke

The sky was clear. Few traces of clouds could be seen in its expanse. Like a benign artist, the afternoon sun drew shine over Tolva's worn appearance. Rays of light bounced off the town's stone-paved roads and its streets were quiet aside from the occasional passerby, which was per the norm. Tolva never really was a bustling center of commerce. This was an out of the way place, tucked in its own little corner of the world. Rarely did it receive visitors and its size was hardly large enough to warrant the nomenclature of a town. The people here have lived their whole lives without knowing what went on outside.

Water splashed against the ground as Sera withdrew her bucket from the well, some wetting her dress as she set it down. Her arms had grown numb from use.

The local well was never the same after a visitor nearly broke the handle. Now there was the littlest kink in the pulley that made her life all the more difficult. She sighed and picked the unwieldy bucket up, ready to head home and call it a day. Lately the monotony of running constant errands had stretched her days longer than she would like. She steadied her breathing just like how her mother was taught with magic. In through her nose and out through her mouth. The act was nigh like meditation. Sometimes she could even feel the world out around her.

In a different sense of course. There was no magic involved. She had no aptitude whatsoever. Attempts were made before but shortly given up on. Mother wasn't disappointed. She rarely if ever advocated magic. This was a different sense for Sera. Always had been.

Indescribable.

She breathed in again, steadily taking in today's air. It seemed like any other day. Only difference was the morning fragrance. It had a peculiar smell to it—not unpleasant, but different. Instead of their usual local lilac flowers, it was suffused with that of some other mysterious floral essence. This was something new. Something exotic.

Something alien.

Sera didn’t give it that much thought though. If anything, somebody somewhere was probably growing foreign flowers from merchant seeds bought the year before. And aside from strange scents perfusing the air today, it was just a day like any other, a day she could get mixed up with the rest. A day of her mulling about, accomplishing her daily errands, and greeting the same mundane people she knew and sometimes liked.

It was a day she could just forget.

Sera saw her mother walking down the road. The tall woman was carrying a basket of bread.

“Mother!" she shouted to her. "Back from the bakery so soon!?”

Her mother turned toward her, a look of surprise on her face that quickly morphed into a smile.

"Sera!" she called her and waved. "My littlest star."

Sera’s smile stiffened at the sound of her nickname. The name was as old as time and wildly embarrassing. She avoided the gazes of the few townsfolk present to maintain some shred of dignity, but their chuckles definitely didn't help. Nor the fact that she was a full head shorter than her mother. She could thank her blessed father for that. He was a stoutly man, broad and strong, but traded whatever height he could've had for it. Some people sometimes even mistake him for a dwarf.

Sera couldn’t wait until the day her mother ceased the moniker.

"Lucia’s bakery wasn't as busy today,” her mother said. “Everybody's in the square trading with those Ostaran merchants.”

Those words rang in the back of Sera's mind. "Ostarans?" She frowned. "They shouldn't be here for another moon."

She recalled that unfamiliar floral scent.

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"Ah? Well, they're here now." The middle-aged woman said dismissively and adjusted her grip on the basket. "We should head home. Walk back with me?"

Sera was also dismissive. "Yes mother." This matter was much more pertinent. "But can you please stop calling me that?"

"What? Little?"

She stopped to stare at her. "You know what I mean."

Her mother chortled. "My brightest star, all grown up now."

Sera bit her cheek in embarrassment and continued forward, her doting mother trailing after her. The eye-catching pair then walked home in tandem, mother and daughter. Sera was a spitting image of her aside from stature. From her long platinum hair and silver eyes, down to the natural sheen of her rosy lips, they seemed almost like sisters, and were often mistaken as such.

She looked at her mother thoughtfully.

Marianne had barely aged a day since Sera was born. Many had attributed it to her innate magical abilities. Some, her mysterious lineage. Her mother though, never took full advantage of her magical potential, of which Sera was forced to get over her jealousy for. Mary was never one to live a life diving into books, combat, or adventure. She was a simple woman who fell in love with a simple man. It was a life fulfilled, but for Sera, it was a life wasted. Hers was different story. She had more ambition. One day she'd leave this small town to travel the world and see everything she had only ever read in books.

If only she had the same magical aptitudes as her mother did. Or even the same strength as her father.

The rest of the walk was uneventful. The path they walked was devoid of people since everyone was in the town center trading with foreign merchants. Soon enough, the two arrived home to prepare dinner. It was a humble abode with few rooms to count, but they were far better off than most. Father’s family had lived in Tolva for generations while mother was from a merchant family that, nowadays, still stopped by every so often to trade and see how they were doing. However according to the other townspeople that were returning with exotic goods, Marianne’s relatives didn’t show up today. It seemed that for the first time, they weren’t a part of the routinely merchant caravans. It was unusual to say the least. The two decided not to pass by town center because of it.

“Sera.” Her name was called. “Sera.”

The daughter was unresponsive.

“Sera!”

Sera looked up from the vegetables she was dicing, nearly cutting herself. She saw concern spreading across her mother's face.

“Yes… mother?”

“You seem... distracted.”

Sera's thought about everything that happened today. She couldn't stop lingering on it. Nothing fit.

“Ah…” She set her knife down, her eyes wandering listlessly. “I was only wondering… Doesn't everything seem strange? Off?”

Mary narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Are you getting premonitions again?” she asked.

Sera shook her head vehemently. “No! I mean, kind of.” She looked out the window. Unease bubbled beneath her chest. “I can't shake it off. Things are strange and I can't put anything together.”

Her mother was the only person privy to her precognition. Abilities to foretell the future were extremely rare, but not unheard of.

Mary took a step closer and planted a hand on her shoulder, locking eyes with Sera.

“Tell me.”

She looked at her mother for a long time feeling mute. She didn't know what to say, but she knew she had to.

Before time could stretch on any further she erupted in a frenzy of words, "The merchants shouldn't be here yet. The air smells off. I can't smell the lilies. And your family isn't-”

A loud scream from the outside cut her off and her blood ran cold. Endless possibilities rushed through her head. Was it brigands? Marauders? Worse? In her stupor, Mary was already looking out the window. Off in the distance and above the roofs, black smoke was rising. They turned to each other and nonverbally confirmed their suspicions. Her mother placed both her hands on her shoulders.

“Stay here. I'm going to find your father.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’,” she said sternly. She grabbed the kitchen knife and placed it in Sera's hands. “Protect Casifra. Protect your sister.”

Her mother caressed her cheek, but Sera was too stunned to speak. And before she realized it, Marianne was already at the door.

“I'll find out what's happening and bring back Marcus,” she said with one last look.

And then she was gone.

Sera could barely process everything. It was all happening too fast. Today was happening way too fast. Her life seemed to have been upended in mere moments and she had barely done anything.

She tightened the grip on her knife, re-solidifying her resolve, There was only one thing she needed to worry about.

Protect Casifra.

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