The sisters walked side by side through the quiet streets of Windmere, their boots making soft sounds against the cobblestones as the sun dipped low in the sky. The salty breeze carried the scent of the sea, and the waves crashed gently in the distance, a rhythmic lullaby that filled the air with a sense of calm. But tonight, that calm did nothing to ease the tension between Yasmin and Yucca.
The sky above was streaked with shades of pink and gold, the last light of the day casting long shadows across the buildings that lined the streets. The city was a study in contrasts—beautiful yet worn, ancient stonework meeting modern touches, like the lanterns that would soon flicker to life as the evening deepened. But for the sisters, the beauty of the city was lost in the weight of everything that had happened.
Yasmin, with her characteristic energy, tried to lift the mood. She bounced on her heels as they walked, her bright hair catching the fading light, but it was clear her usual spark was forced. “So,” Yasmin began, trying for a lighthearted tone, “did you hear about that old fisherman by the docks? He swears he saw a sea serpent the size of a ship out there last night.” She laughed, nudging her sister with her elbow. “Can you imagine? Maybe he just had one too many drinks.”
But Yucca barely reacted, her gaze distant, her silvery hair fluttering in the wind. She offered only a faint, distracted smile. “Yeah... maybe,” she said softly, her voice lacking its usual firmness.
Yasmin’s grin faltered. She had been trying for days to draw her sister out, to get her to open up, but Yucca had been... different since they’d returned from Valarian. The investigation into Marcelline’s web of manipulation had shaken everyone, but it seemed to have hit Yucca harder than most. Yasmin had tried to coax her back to herself with jokes, with stories, with anything that might bring back that spark in her sister’s eyes. But it was like there was a wall between them now, something Yasmin couldn’t break through no matter how hard she tried.
The two continued in silence for a while, the sounds of the city fading as they neared the cliffs that overlooked the sea. Windmere was designed so that no matter where you stood, the ocean was always visible, a constant reminder of the vast world beyond. Yucca’s steps slowed as they passed a small, weathered bench overlooking the water, and without a word, she sat down, staring out at the horizon where the sun was beginning its descent into the sea.
Yasmin hesitated for a moment, then joined her, the tension between them thick enough to choke on. The two of them sat there, side by side, watching the waves roll in, the sky ablaze with the colors of sunset. The silence stretched on, heavy with unspoken words, until finally, Yucca took a deep, shuddering breath.
“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say,” Yucca began, her voice low and trembling. “I... I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
Yasmin’s heart tightened at the sound of her sister’s voice breaking. She turned to face Yucca, her eyes wide with concern. “Hey, Yuc... you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?” Her voice was soft, all her usual bravado stripped away.
Yucca didn’t look at her, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the sun was slowly sinking. “I thought I was stronger, Yas,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I thought... I thought I could resist her. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop her, no matter how hard I tried.”
Yasmin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone gentle. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, Yucca. You’ve always been—”
“No.” Yucca cut her off, shaking her head. Tears glistened in her eyes, catching the fading light. “You don’t understand, Yas. You weren’t... you didn’t feel it. Marcelline... she didn’t just control people. She owned them. And I... I gave in.”
Yasmin’s heart ached at the sight of her sister’s tears. Yucca never cried. Yasmin reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on Yucca’s shoulder. “What are you talking about? You were under a contract, yeah, but that wasn’t your fault. You were trying to survive.”
“It wasn’t just survival,” Yucca whispered, her voice raw. “It was... it was like she crawled into my mind, Yasmin. I knew it was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t have signed that contract, shouldn’t have let her in. But it didn’t matter. She... she made it feel like it was my idea. Like it was the only choice I had.” She finally turned to look at Yasmin, her eyes brimming with anguish. “I knew I didn’t need that power, Yasmin. I knew it, but I still... I still took it.”
Yasmin’s throat tightened. She didn’t know what to say. All her life, she had looked up to Yucca, the sister who was always calm, always in control. To hear Yucca speak like this, to see her so broken, was more painful than any battle Yasmin had ever fought.
“Yucca,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper, “you did what you had to do. We all did. Marcelline... she was a monster. She twisted people. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
“But I do,” Yucca cried, her voice cracking. “I blame myself every single day. I let her get into my head. I let her make me believe that I was nothing without her, that I needed her power to protect you, to protect us. I signed away my will, my choices, everything... and I can’t take it back.” She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. “I... I’m so sorry, Yasmin. I’m so sorry I wasn’t stronger.”
Yasmin’s heart shattered at the sight of her sister breaking down. She reached out, pulling Yucca into a tight embrace. “No, no, Yucca,” she murmured, her own eyes welling up with tears. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were trying to protect us, to protect everyone. Marcelline was the one who twisted everything, not you.”
Yucca buried her face in Yasmin’s shoulder, the tears flowing freely now. “I just... I don’t know how to live with it, Yas,” she whispered. “The things I did, the things I let her make me do... to you of all people, how do I move on from that?”
Yasmin held her sister tighter, her own tears mingling with the sea breeze. “We’ll figure it out, okay?” she said fiercely. “We’ll get through this, Yucca. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. You’re stronger than you think. You’ve always been stronger than you think.”
For a long moment, they stayed like that, holding each other as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky awash with the colors of twilight. The city of Windmere was quiet around them, the sea a steady, comforting presence in the background.
Yucca slowly pulled away from Yasmin’s embrace, wiping the last of her tears with a shaky hand. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, their eyes reflecting the shared pain, relief, and determination that had brought them here. But then, as the sun finally sank beneath the horizon, leaving a deep indigo glow over the sea, Yasmin couldn’t help but let a smirk tug at the corner of her lips.
“Alright, enough of this sappy crap,” Yasmin said, her voice returning to its usual playful lilt. She gave Yucca a light punch on the arm. “We’ve got a grumpy old master to face, and if we’re late, you know he’ll go on one of his famous rants. Something about ‘respecting the ancient traditions of the Arcane Forge’ or whatever.”
Yucca rolled her eyes but a faint smile ghosted her lips. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get going. Knowing Master Draslyn, he’s probably pacing his chamber right now, working himself into a fit.” She took a deep breath, her expression more at ease now. “Thanks, Yasmin. I... needed that.”
“Hey, anytime, sis. That’s what I’m here for.” Yasmin winked, then turned on her heel, her cloak billowing behind her as she led the way back through the city streets.
As they made their way through the winding alleys of Windmere, the sisters fell back into an easy rhythm, the weight of their earlier conversation lifting with each step. The streets were quieter now, the last of the vendors closing their stalls, and the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs was almost soothing.
“You know,” Yasmin said with a sly grin, “if Draslyn gives us too much grief, we could always tell him we were busy saving the world. Again. I've got a handful of excuses ready, actually.”
Yucca shot her a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Or you could, I don’t know, just not aggravate him for once? Maybe try to keep your mouth shut for five minutes?”
Yasmin laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, come on. Where’s the fun in that? Besides, you know he secretly likes me. Keeps him on his toes.”
Yucca just shook her head, but the warmth in her eyes was undeniable. The playful banter was a welcome change from the tension of the last few days, and as they turned the corner that led to the Arcane Forge, Yasmin couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope that things were finally starting to look up.
The Arcane Forge loomed ahead, its tall stone walls glowing softly with magical wards that kept the structure protected. As they approached the grand doors, the ever-familiar scent of burning incense wafted through the air. Yasmin paused just before they entered, turning to Yucca with a grin.
“Alright, let’s see if we can get through this without you rolling your eyes so hard they fall out of your head.”
Yucca snorted. “Only if you don’t give him a reason to extend this meeting by another hour.”
“Deal,” Yasmin said with a wink.
They pushed open the heavy wooden doors, stepping into the dimly lit hall. The soft glow of enchanted orbs cast long shadows on the walls, and the scent of old parchment and incense hung thick in the air. An apprentice who had clearly been waiting for them nodded curtly and led them to Master Draslyn’s chambers.
Master Draslyn’s office was as imposing as ever. Rows of ancient books lined the shelves, and strange artifacts from distant lands cluttered his heavy oak desk. The man himself was standing with his back to the door, staring out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. His presence was a solid, unwavering force, like an immovable mountain.
Without turning around, he growled, “I hope you two have an excellent explanation for the chaos you’ve left in your wake.”
“Master Draslyn,” Yasmin began, her voice dripping with forced cheer, “we’ve missed you too.”
Draslyn turned, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of the two sisters. His graying hair and the deep lines etched into his face gave him a look of perpetual irritation, but today, there was something deeper behind his eyes—something bordering on genuine concern.
“Enough of your nonsense, Yasmin,” he snapped. “I’ve spent the last two days dealing with the fallout from your little ‘adventure.’” He jabbed a finger at Yasmin. “Do you have any idea how many reports I’ve received about a certain red-haired magist blasting through an ancient cathedral? Do you know how much damage control I’ve had to do?”
Yasmin bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Well, in my defense, that cathedral was in the way...”
“Yasmin!” Yucca hissed, elbowing her sharply in the ribs.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Draslyn pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting ever having taken Yasmin under his wing. “Let’s start from the beginning. Explain yourselves. What the hell happened in Valarian?”
Yucca stepped forward, her demeanor calm and composed. “Master, it’s... complicated. The mission I was sent on, the one supposedly commissioned by Lady Marcelline—” She paused, her jaw tightening. “It was to assassinate Paola.”
Draslyn’s eyes widened, and he leaned back against his desk, his usually composed mask slipping. “What did you say?” Though he's already read the reports in detail.
Yucca took a deep breath. “Lady Marcelline’s contract... it was to eliminate Paola. But she never told me who my target was until I was already deep in Valarian. By the time I realized who it was...”
Yasmin jumped in, unable to hold back. “By the time she found out it was my girlfriend, it was already too late. Marcelline used her contract magic to control Yucca. She tried to force her to do it, Master.”
Draslyn’s brows furrowed as he processed the information. “And... you’re telling me that Paola, the same Paola the Fallen Star we've been getting reports about, managed to kill Lady Marcelline?”
Yasmin nodded, her expression turning serious for the first time since they’d entered the room. “Yeah. Paola did it. She broke whatever control Marcelline had over everyone. But it wasn’t a plan or some calculated move. She just... did it. She had no other choice.”
Yucca added quietly, “Paola didn’t even know if killing Marcelline would break the spells. She was... desperate. She acted on instinct.”
Draslyn rubbed his temples, clearly overwhelmed. “So, let me get this straight. Lady Marcelline, one of the most powerful figures in Valarian, who had been manipulating contracts and controlling people for years, is dead because of a spontaneous decision made by your girlfriend?”
Yasmin nodded enthusiastically. “Pretty much, yeah. And now it’s raining in Valarian for the first time in centuries. So... you’re welcome?”
Draslyn let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Do you have any idea what kind of chaos this has caused? The council is demanding answers, the nobles are losing their minds, and there are reports of entire estates turning themselves in, claiming they were under her control.”
Yucca crossed her arms, her gaze steady. “And now, Master, we’re trying to pick up the pieces. The contracts Marcelline held were like a web, binding so many people in ways they didn’t even realize. Now that they’re severed, Valarian is on the brink of collapse.”
Draslyn stared at them both, his frustration warring with something that almost looked like pride. “You two... you’re a damned disaster, but you get results. Still,” he turned to Yasmin, his tone shifting to a scolding one, “you can’t keep using your powers so recklessly. Blowing up parts of an ancient cathedral isn’t something I can keep covering up.”
Yasmin had the grace to look sheepish. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I went a little overboard.”
“A little?” Draslyn raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be repairing that cathedral on your own time. Consider it a lesson in restraint.”
“Wait, you mean actual repair work?” Yasmin groaned. “Can’t I just, I don’t know, throw some magic at it? Give up some of my pay?”
“Absolutely not,” Draslyn growled. “You’re going to learn the value of not destroying things you can’t fix with magic. And if you complain one more time, I’ll double the hours.”
Yasmin pouted but kept quiet, her rebellious spirit momentarily subdued.
Draslyn shook his head, his expression softening. He gestured to the two of them, his tone gruff, but with a hint of affection beneath the words.
"Go, both of you. Rest. I'll deal with the council. You've done more than enough for now."
Yasmin offered a mock salute, her usual cheekiness back in full force. "See ya later, old man. Try not to get too lost in the stacks while we're gone."
Draslyn just rolled his eyes, his face settling back into its usual expression of irritated resignation. "Get out of here. I'll call you if anything changes."
Yasmin couldn’t help but shoot Yucca a smug grin as they made their way out of Draslyn’s chambers. “See? Not too bad, right? I mean, I only have to spend a few weeks fixing a cathedral. Piece of cake.”
Yucca rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Yasmin, I’m amazed you haven’t been kicked out of the Forge yet. And now? You’ve somehow managed to rope yourself into the most absurd, dangerous situations... all because of this mysterious ‘girlfriend’ of yours.”
Yasmin’s grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What can I say? Paola’s worth it. Besides,” she added with a teasing lilt, “you know you’re secretly relieved she saved your butt.”
Yucca gave her sister a sidelong glance, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll admit that. But let’s be real here, Yas—when did you decide that instead of having one serious relationship, you’d just try to cram them all into one? Seriously, is this your grand plan? ‘If I can’t settle down with one person, why not collect a bunch?’”
Yasmin’s grin only grew wider, the playful glint in her eyes turning almost wicked as she nudged Yucca with her elbow. “Oh, absolutely. I mean, if Paola’s building a harem, I’d be honored to be her latest recruit. I’m the most recent member, you know—right after Ayla and Poca.” She gave a dramatic sigh, clasping her hands to her chest. “I’m thinking of calling myself the ‘Flame of the Harem.’ What do you think? Too much?”
Yucca groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered. “Do you ever stop to think about the ridiculousness that comes out of your mouth, Yasmin?”
“Nope!” Yasmin chirped, practically bouncing as they walked down the corridor. “But seriously, Yuc, Paola’s got something special. And, hey, if she’s into having more girlfriends, who am I to say no? I mean, Ayla’s got that brooding, sword-wielding thing going on, and Poca... well, she’s adorable in that unhinged, Valarian-voodoo-puppet way. It’s kinda hot.”
Yucca shot her sister a sharp look, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not seriously trying to turn this into some kind of polyamorous conquest, are you? Because if you are, I swear, I’m going to drag you back to the Arcane Forge and lock you in the basement until you come to your senses.”
Yasmin’s playful demeanor softened just a bit, the teasing edge in her voice turning sincere. “No, Yuc. I’m serious about Paola.” She paused, a rare moment of vulnerability crossing her face. “I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s... different. She doesn’t just see me as some crazy pyromancer who gets into trouble every five seconds. She gets it. The way she looks at me... it’s like she sees all the chaos and still thinks it’s worth it.” She added, "She's also from another realm."
Yucca’s expression softened, her protective instincts warring with her concern. “And what about Ayla and Poca? Are you actually serious about all of them, too?”
Yasmin shrugged, her grin returning, though this time it was tinged with something more genuine. “Look, I won’t pretend to have it all figured out. But Paola’s got a way of loving people—like, really loving them. She’s got enough heart to go around, you know? Ayla needs someone to show her she can be loved after all that Marcelline crap. And Poca... well, I think she just needs someone who’ll kiss her on the nose and tell her she’s cute.”
Yucca sighed, shaking her head but unable to suppress a smile. “You’re a disaster, Yasmin. But I can see that look in your eyes.” She tilted her head, studying her sister. “I just... I want to make sure you’re not getting in over your head. You’re always chasing danger, and now you’re throwing your heart into the mix.”
“Hey, you know me,” Yasmin said, leaning back with her hands behind her head, her confidence back in full force. “I’m great at balancing the two. Besides,” she added with a wink, “Paola’s worth it. And if that means sharing her with a couple of other girls who are just as head-over-heels for her, well... I’m game. I think it’s kinda sweet, honestly.”
Yucca let out a long-suffering groan, rubbing her temples. “I can’t believe I’m actually listening to this. You’re hopeless, Yas.”
Yasmin grinned, throwing her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Nah, I’m just creative with my love life. But seriously, I’m happy, Yuc. Happier than I’ve been in a long time. And I’ve got you to thank for having my back, as always.”
Yucca gave her a side-eye but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta look out for you. Even if you’re determined to make the most chaotic choices possible.”
***
Ayla wandered the empty halls of the estate, the faint echo of her footsteps the only sound in the vast, hollow manor. The rain pattered softly against the stained glass windows, casting muted, colored shadows that danced across the polished marble floors. The estate, once alive with the constant bustle of servants and visitors, now felt like a mausoleum, its opulent silence pressing in around her like a suffocating shroud.
The past four days had been relentless—a whirlwind of interrogations, questions that cut deep, forcing her to confront memories she had buried so deep that she almost believed they weren’t hers. They had taken everything: copies of documents, letters, contracts—each one a damning piece of evidence she hadn’t even known existed until they were thrust in front of her. The investigators had been thorough, their questions piercing through her defenses like arrows aimed at a fragile heart.
But now, it was over. At least, for the time being. She was alone in this colossal estate, surrounded by the remnants of a life that had never truly been hers. Ayla’s fingers brushed over the cool surface of a mahogany table, once polished to a gleam by diligent hands that were now gone. Marcelline’s servants had vanished almost overnight—either dismissed, imprisoned, or simply vanished, like ghosts dissipating at dawn. There was no one left. No loyal retainers, no comforting presence. Just Ayla, and the oppressive silence of a place that had once felt like both a prison and a sanctuary.
The courtyard beyond the grand windows was awash in green, the garden’s vibrant colors muted under the relentless downpour. Ayla’s eyes traced the edges of the fountain, the water overflowing its basin and spilling onto the carefully maintained paths. Even the meticulously groomed plants, which once thrived under Marcelline’s careful attention, seemed to droop under the weight of the unending rain.
Was this a blessing from the Leviathan? An acknowledgment of her sacrifice? Or was it simply the heavens mourning? Ayla couldn’t decide. All she knew was that the rain had started the moment Marcelline drew her last breath, and it had not stopped since.
A bitter smile twisted her lips. Marcelline would’ve found it poetic, she thought. A final display of power, even in death.
Ayla’s feet carried her deeper into the manor, past rooms that had once been filled with the sound of laughter, of strategizing whispers, of Marcelline’s cold commands. The tapestries that lined the walls—depicting battles, mythical creatures, and arcane symbols—now seemed like remnants of a past that felt more like fiction than reality. She couldn’t help but wonder if those stories had ever truly meant anything to Marcelline, or if they were just tools in her endless quest for power.
She found herself in the library, a room she had always loved as a child. The scent of old parchment and aged leather still lingered in the air, though the shelves were now half-empty, many of the ancient tomes taken by the investigators. Ayla’s fingers grazed the spines of the remaining books, her eyes lingering on titles she had once poured over, trying to understand the woman who had raised her.
But the answers had not been in the books. They had been in the documents she was never meant to see—the ones revealed during the interrogation. The ones that had shattered whatever fragile sense of identity she had left.
Guinenne. The name still felt foreign on her tongue, like a shard of glass lodged in her throat. It was the only thing Marcelline had allowed her to keep, the single thread connecting her to a past she had never truly known. The documents had been clear: Ayla was not Marcelline’s daughter, not truly. She had been taken, ripped away from a family she barely remembered, their faces blurred and distant in her mind. Marcelline had orchestrated their deaths, leaving Ayla an orphan, a child with no one but her to turn to.
A weapon. That’s all she had ever been. A blade forged in the fires of Marcelline’s ambition, sharpened and honed to protect the woman who had stolen everything from her. Ayla’s eyes stung, but she refused to let the tears fall. Not for her. Not anymore.
Ayla walked to the window, her gaze drawn to the city of Valarian sprawling below the mountain slope. The flickering lights of the city were dimmed by the veil of rain, and beyond, the skeletal arches of the Leviathan’s ribs loomed like the guardians of a forgotten era. This city, this entire world, was shaped by Marcelline’s iron will. And now, it was unraveling. The contracts Marcelline had used to bind so many to her service had been severed, their magic dissipated the moment her life was extinguished. Ayla had seen it firsthand—the way those who had been controlled were suddenly left adrift, their minds no longer tethered to Marcelline’s commands.
The fallout was far worse than Ayla had imagined. People were turning themselves in, confessing to crimes they swore they had been forced to commit under Marcelline’s influence, hoping for leniency. The city was on the brink, teetering between chaos and an uncertain future.
And Ayla? She was caught in the center of it all. Not as a warrior, not as a protector, but as the last remnant of Marcelline’s twisted legacy. The investigators had tried to pry more out of her, to understand the extent of Marcelline’s manipulation, the depths of her control. But Ayla had no answers for them—only a lifetime of questions she was still struggling to piece together.
Why had Marcelline spared her? Why had she kept her close, even as she killed the rest of her family? Simply because of her dual affinity? The answers eluded her, like shadows slipping through her grasp. All she had left were fragments, pieces of a puzzle that no longer seemed to fit.
Her eyes drifted back to the rain-soaked landscape, to the distant horizon where the city met the desert. She had planned to leave, to join Paola and Yasmin at Poca’s farm. To put distance between herself and the memories that haunted these halls. But for now, she needed one more night. One more night to sit with the ghosts that whispered in every corner, to try to make sense of the life she had been forced to live.
A part of her longed to flee, to disappear into the wilderness beyond Valarian, to forget everything that had happened. But she couldn’t. Not yet. There were still too many questions, too many loose threads that needed to be tied.
As she stared out into the endless rain, Ayla couldn’t help but wonder if the storm would ever end—or if it would drown them all before the sun could rise again.