The gentle creaking of the carriage echoed in the early morning air as it rolled away from the manor, its wheels rattling softly over the cobblestone streets. Liora sat quietly, peeking out the small window as the grand building slowly disappeared from view. She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling a strange twist in her stomach. She had expected to feel happy, or at least excited, now that she was with her parents. But the farther they got from the manor, the more strange and heavy everything felt.
Her parents were quiet at first. Her mom still had that smile on her face, but it wasn’t the same as before. Her dad didn’t even look at her, just stared out the window. The warmth from earlier felt like it had been left behind with the manor, and Liora couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. She squirmed a little in her seat, her small fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress, waiting for someone to say something.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why... why did you leave me?” she asked, her voice small and unsure. She bit her lip, glancing from her mom to her dad. “Did... did you ever look for me?”
But the question just floated in the air. Her mom turned to look out the window again, her smile fading completely. Her dad didn’t even flinch, his face stiff and serious.
Liora’s heart sank, and she pressed her knees tighter to her chest. “Did you ever look for me?” she asked again, a little quieter this time, hoping for anything—just a word or even a glance.
It was her mom who finally spoke, but the words weren’t what Liora had been hoping for. “That man with the golden hair,” she said, her voice sounding flat and cold. “The one who brought you to us... Does he have money?”
Liora blinked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Huh? You mean mister Tristan?”
Her dad finally turned to her, though he didn’t seem happy. “Yeah, him. He’s got money, right? You’ve been with him for a while.”
Liora fidgeted in her seat. “I... I guess so? He takes care of us.” She didn’t understand why they were asking about Tristan. Weren’t they supposed to talk about... about her?
Her mom leaned in a little, her eyes narrowing. “Did he give you any money? Or tell you where he keeps it?” Her voice had a sharp edge now. “If you could get some, it would help us out. You want to help your family, right?”
Liora’s throat tightened, and she looked down at her feet, feeling even smaller. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Why weren’t they happy to see her? Why weren’t they talking about how much they missed her?
As they spoke, Liora started to notice something strange. Purple lines floated in the air around her parents, weaving like threads. They pulsed and swirled, growing thicker the more her parents talked about Tristan and money. It made her feel uneasy, the way the lines wrapped around their words.
Her dad’s voice broke through her thoughts. “If you could get some of that money, it would make things better for all of us. Think about it, Liora. Families take care of each other.”
Liora stared at the purple lines, her small hands clutching the edge of the seat. She had so many questions—why did they leave her? Did they really care? But she couldn’t find the words. All she could feel was the coldness in the carriage and the heavy weight in her chest.
The carriage rolled on, the wheels creaking over the cobblestone road, but Liora felt farther away from her parents than ever.
The carriage slowed to a halt in front of a row of small, worn houses. The sound of the driver’s boots hitting the road echoed as he climbed down and opened the door for them. Liora’s mother immediately shifted, her cold demeanor from moments before melting into a warm, practiced smile—just like the one she had shown at the manor.
“Thank you so much,” her mother said sweetly, nodding to the driver. Her father, too, seemed to transform. He scooped Liora up in his arms, his voice suddenly cheerful. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said, though the warmth in his voice felt hollow to her.
Liora stayed quiet, her mind swirling with confusion as they stepped out of the carriage. She blinked as she saw the streets around her, noticing more of the strange lines floating in the air—different colors this time. Blue, red, yellow, and the ever-present purple, each one weaving between the houses and the people they passed. The colors felt strange, almost alive, but no one else seemed to notice them.
They finally reached their house, a small and cramped building, with chipped paint and a sagging roof. Inside, the space was simple—just a few chairs and a table, far less than the grand rooms she’d become used to at the manor. But Liora didn’t care about that. She still needed answers. She wanted to know why they left her, why they never came for her.
Her father set her down on one of the chairs, his tone shifting again, back to that cold, sharp edge. “Listen,” he said, crouching down to meet her eye level. “We need Mister Tristan’s money. If you talk to him and get some, we’ll be able to go to a lot of nice places together.”
Liora’s small face scrunched up, her heart pounding as she tried to ask once more. “But... why didn’t you look for me? Did you even—”
Before she could finish, her father straightened up, brushing off her question like a fly. Her mother’s face twisted, her voice turning icy. “Stop playing games, Liora,” she snapped. “You either get the money or you can sleep outside.”
The harshness of her mother’s words made Liora shrink back in her chair, her eyes wide with disbelief. Why was her mother talking to her like this? What had she done wrong? Her small hands gripped the edge of the seat, her breath coming in short, shaky gasps. The room felt colder, and those purple lines—why were they still there, swirling around everything?
Without thinking, Liora reached out and grabbed one of the purple lines. It hummed under her fingers as if it had been waiting for her touch. She barely had time to process what was happening before the line passed through the empty plate on the table. Suddenly, with a faint pop, another plate appeared, an exact duplicate of the first.
Her mother’s face turned pale the moment she saw it. Her eyes widened in horror, and she pointed at Liora with a trembling finger. “Get out!” she screamed, her voice shrill and panicked. “Get out of this house! What are you?!”
Liora flinched, recoiling back into the chair as her mother’s scream pierced the air. Her heart felt like it was breaking into tiny pieces, and she stared at her mother in shock. Why was she so angry? What had she done wrong?
Her father stepped in, trying to calm her mother down, but when he turned back to Liora, the warmth was gone from his eyes. His voice was tight, measured, like he was forcing himself to stay calm. “Liora,” he said, holding out a small coin toward her, “can you do that again?”
Liora looked up at him, her hands trembling. The coin gleamed in the dim light of the house, but the cold feeling in her chest only deepened. She didn’t know what to say, so she just sat there, her fingers twitching as the purple lines danced around her, more vivid than ever.
Liora obediently waved her hand, following the purple line only she could see. As her hand moved through the coin, it seemed like nothing happened, but then—pop—another identical coin appeared beside it on the table. She stared at the two coins, feeling the strange power in her fingers, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Her father, however, looked thrilled.
He leaned over the table, eyes gleaming as he picked up the coins. “Would you look at that! We’re going to be rich!” His voice brimmed with excitement, the coins in his hands almost glowing in his imagination as symbols of opportunity.
Her mother’s reaction was far colder. She watched with a rigid, calculated gaze, her lips pressing into a thin, unforgiving line. There was no shock or fear—just something sharper, an unsettling quiet as she observed Liora’s display. Her fingers drummed lightly on the edge of the table, and the disdain in her eyes grew with every second she spent looking at her daughter.
“Get her out of here,” her mother said, her voice low and clipped, lacking any warmth. It wasn’t fear that edged her words, but a deep, simmering bitterness. “I don’t want her here.”
Liora flinched at the words, her heart tightening in confusion. “Why...?” she whispered, her voice small and hesitant. All she wanted was to be with them, to stay. Why did her mother want her gone?
Her father barely acknowledged the tension, too engrossed in the possibilities Liora’s ability could offer. “Come on, calm down,” he said, brushing off his wife’s coldness. “This is the break we need. Morgan’s not here, and this girl can change our fortunes! Just look at what she did with a coin!”
The mother turned her gaze from Liora to the duplicated coin with a sneer, her expression hardening. Whatever thoughts were running through her mind, they weren’t ones of joy or hope. They were bitter, filled with something darker, a rejection that was rooted in more than just Liora’s presence.
The father continued, his voice growing more excited. “We’ll be rich! She can make anything we need. This could set us up for life!”
The mother crossed her arms, her gaze heavy with resentment, but she said nothing. Her silence, colder than any words, lingered in the air. It was clear she wasn’t convinced, but she wasn’t going to fight either. Liora wasn’t the daughter she ever wanted, and now, seeing her like this only deepened the divide between them.
Liora’s small voice broke through the tension. “I just want... to stay with you,” she murmured, her eyes pleading.
But neither of them truly heard her. Her father’s eyes were still on the coins, and her mother’s scornful stare lingered, seeing Liora not as a daughter but as a reminder of something she could never escape.
Her father smiled broadly, holding the coin up. “You can do that again, right?” he asked, eager and almost dismissive of everything else. “Just one more time.”
Liora nodded quickly, her heart desperate for the approval she craved. Even though they didn't seem to care about her, she believed that if she just did it again—if she made more coins—her father would love her. Just like how Mister Tristan, Cedric, Magnus, and Miss Elysia cared for her. All she needed to do was make them happy, and maybe... just maybe, they would be a real family.
She waved the purple line again, her small hand cutting through the air as it passed over the coin. Another coin appeared, and then another. The pile grew steadily as her father’s grin widened with each new coin that popped into existence.
"Yes, that's it!" he exclaimed, his voice full of praise—but not for her, only for the coins. He gathered them up, stacking them in neat little piles, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Keep going, Liora. Make as many as you can."
Her mother stood nearby, arms still crossed and lips pursed, not saying a word. Her cold gaze flicked between Liora and the growing pile of coins, but no warmth ever touched her expression. She remained distant, as if she didn’t see her daughter at all—only the power she had.
But Liora didn’t stop. She waved the line again and again, creating more coins as her father became more pleased by each new one. Every time her hand moved, she thought that maybe this was the moment where they would turn to her and smile, where her mother’s icy exterior would soften and her father’s excitement would be for her, not just for the gold.
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But no matter how many coins appeared, the warmth she longed for never came. As the pile of coins grew larger, her father’s face filled with joy. He barely looked at her anymore, his eyes glued to the shimmering gold she had created. Liora, however, struggled to even glance at him. Her heart felt heavier with each passing second. She could feel her mother’s presence fading, as she turned without a word and left the room, disappearing into another part of the house.
Liora’s chest tightened. She had wanted to stay with them, to finally know the love of a real family, but this wasn’t the love she knew. This wasn’t like the warmth she felt with the team—Cedric, Tristan, Magnus, and Miss Elysia—or even the kindness Miss Sibylia shared with the orphans. It was something cold, empty. They didn’t want her—they wanted her power, her ability to make coins.
A knot formed in her throat, and she felt like crying, but she quickly shook it off. She was a strong girl now, and strong girls didn’t cry. She wanted to go back to Miss Elysia. She didn’t belong here.
Gathering her courage, she looked up at her father and quietly asked, “Can we go back to the manor now?”
The moment those words left her lips, his joyful expression vanished. His face turned pale, and his gaze shifted from the coins to her, wide with fear. Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist—hard. The grip hurt, and Liora winced as he dragged her toward the back room, his voice harsh.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, pushing her roughly inside. The door slammed shut behind her, and she heard the sound of a lock clicking into place.
Liora stumbled forward, falling to the floor. She looked down at her wrist, still aching from the grip, her mind racing with confusion. What had she done wrong? She’d given him what he wanted—the coins. She just wanted to go back, so why was she locked in this room?
Tears stung at her eyes, but she blinked them away, thinking of the warmth in Miss Elysia’s hugs, the safety in Cedric’s quiet strength. That was love, wasn’t it? Not this—this cold, empty house where her only value was the coins she could make. Refusing to let tears fall. Slowly, she stood up, wiping her face as she looked around the room. That’s when she saw it—the faint glow of a green line stretching across the floor. She didn’t know what it did, but she was too curious to ignore it.
Tentatively, she reached out and touched the line.
In an instant, her body flickered out of existence. She felt strange, weightless, as though she wasn’t really there anymore. But she could still see everything—the room, the walls, even herself. It was as if she had slipped into the line itself. She could move along it, her body flowing through the walls like a shadow.
Liora’s heart raced, but this time, it wasn’t from fear. She reached the end of the green line and reached her hand out, pulling herself back into the room. With a soft pop, she reappeared, her feet touching the ground.
She didn’t understand what had just happened, but she knew one thing—the lines could take her away from here.
With a determined nod, she touched the green line again, her body disappearing once more. She moved along the line, this time pushing forward until she reached the street outside. The city stretched out before her, but she didn’t hesitate. Liora continued to follow the green lines, slipping from one part of the city to the next, passing through walls and buildings as if they were made of air.
As Liora moved through the lines, darting from one part of the city to another, she passed through the fort. For a brief moment, she spotted Mister Caelum sitting in his office, rubbing his temples with a weary expression. He looked like he was waking up from a long, restless sleep, his face lined with exhaustion, still recovering from the ordeal of last night. His brow furrowed, and he winced slightly, as if a dull headache still lingered. But Liora didn’t stop. She had to reach the manor and kept moving, leaving Mister Caelum behind as she continued through the lines.
Finally, she reached the edge of the street near the manor. Her heart leaped as the familiar sight came into view. Without a second thought, she touched the last line and popped out in front of the manor’s gates.
But they weren’t there.
Liora’s eyes darted around, searching the front of the manor, but the wagon they always used was nowhere in sight. A wave of confusion washed over her. They must have already left. They must be at the ship station, she thought, trying to remember Mister Tristan’s words about going to an island. They’re probably at the ship.
Without wasting a moment, Liora touched another green line, slipping away from the manor’s gate and heading toward where she imagined the ships would be. She didn’t know exactly where it was—she’d never been to the docks before—but she followed the lines instinctively, moving through the city like a shadow. Each jump took her closer, the salty smell of the sea growing stronger with every move.
Finally, she popped out just beyond a row of tall wooden buildings and saw it—the dock. The ships bobbed gently in the water, and there, just ahead, was the ship Tristan, Cedric, and the others were boarding. Her heart leaped with relief. Miss Elysia was already stepping onto the deck, and the ship was starting to sail away.
No, wait! Liora’s mind raced as she realized they were leaving. She couldn't let them go without her!
Quickly, she reached out for another green line. It was faint, but it connected to the side of the ship, stretching just far enough. Liora moved along the line, her body flickering as she leapt through the space between her and the ship. She pushed herself forward, just as the line started to fade behind her.
With a final effort, Liora popped out beneath the deck of the ship, landing softly behind a cluster of barrels. She breathed out in relief, her small body trembling from the strain of using the lines for so long. The gentle rocking of the ship beneath her feet made her feel light-headed, and she leaned back against the barrels, her heart still pounding in her chest.
She had made it. Just in time.
Feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over her, Liora closed her eyes for a moment. Maybe she would rest for just a bit... Then she'll surprise them.
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Liora sat quietly, gently patting Faylinn's soft fur, her eyes wandering between the adults as they discussed her presence. The atmosphere on the ship was tense, and though she didn’t fully understand, she could sense the weight of their conversation.
“We can’t bring her along” Cedric insisted, crossing his arms. “This isn’t just another fight. Argoth is different—he’s more dangerous than anything we’ve faced. Bringing Liora with us would only put her in harm's way.”
Magnus, who had been leaning against the ship’s railing, gave a slight nod toward Liora. “She’s proven herself, Cedric. You saw how she handled herself back in the city with Caelumbras. She’s not just some helpless kid.”
“I’m not saying she’s helpless,” Cedric countered, his voice firm but measured. “I’m saying she’s a child. We’re about to face someone more dangerous than Caelumbras ever was. I can’t knowingly bring a child into that fight.”
Tristan, finally spoke up. “I agree with Cedric. Argoth is a different beast, and we can’t risk Liora’s safety.” He paused, glancing at the horizon. “But we’re already halfway there. Turning back now would cost us precious time.”
There was a brief silence as the team considered their options. Elysia, who had been listening quietly, stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Liora’s shoulder. “I’ll keep her safe,” she said with calm determination. “Liora’s strong, but I won’t let her face danger alone.”
Tristan nodded, his decision made. “Elysia, you’re in charge of her. Keep her out of harm's way.”
Magnus clapped a hand on Cedric’s shoulder. “Look, once Killian’s men arrive, she’ll be fine. They’ll keep an eye on her, and we can focus on Argoth.”
But Cedric’s jaw tightened. “What if they don’t come in time? What if something happens before they arrive? I can’t shake that possibility, Magnus. It’s not something we can ignore.”
As the ship sailed through the open sea, the tension slowly began to ease. The day stretched long, and the warm sea breeze carried with it a sense of fleeting peace. Cedric, trying to distract himself from his concerns, decided to take Liora to the side of the ship with Magnus.
“Alright,” Cedric said, crouching beside Liora. “We’re going to teach you how to fish.”
Liora’s eyes widened, a flicker of excitement breaking through the uncertainty of the earlier conversation. “With the vines?”
Magnus grinned, holding up one of Faylinn’s sturdy vines. “These should be strong enough not to snap. Faylinn’s helping out too, so we’ll make a good team.”
Liora giggled as Faylinn, perched on her shoulder, mewed in approval. The small fox spirit sent out another vine, its glowing tendrils wrapping gently around a fishing hook Cedric prepared. They cast the line over the side of the ship, watching as the vine stretched out over the water.
On the other side of the ship, Elysia was busy preparing their next meal. She hummed softly as she worked, glancing over at the rest of the crew with a small smile. Tristan, in the meantime, stood near the helm, occasionally adjusting the wheel as he reviewed the map. The ship’s magic stones kept the vessel steady and on course, but he still needed to guide them through the open sea.
As the day went on, the calm waves and the occasional tug on the fishing lines brought a sense of quiet to the ship. It was a brief respite, but one they all needed before the storm they knew was coming.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to peek through the sky, the warmth of their shared meal and the gentle rocking of the ship set a relaxed tone. They lingered around the table, the last remnants of their dinner slowly cooling on the plates. The conversation had drifted into comfortable silence until Magnus, stretching his arms and leaning back in his chair, broke it.
“You know,” he said, looking out over the darkening sea, “I’ve been thinking... maybe once all this is over, I’ll just settle down somewhere. Haven’t really thought about what that’d be like, but... peace doesn’t sound too bad.”
Tristan chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. “You? Settling down? I didn’t think I’d hear that from you.”
Magnus smirked. “Hey, even I get tired of the fighting. Besides, I’ve seen enough war for two lifetimes. Could be nice to kick my feet up, live somewhere quiet... with plenty of ale.”
Tristan smiled, turning to face him. “Well, if you’re going to settle down, maybe you could do it with me. Having someone like you by my side would be reassuring.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “That so? And what’s in it for me? Big manor? Loads of money? I’m not taking anything less than what Thranak offered me back at the arena!” He laughed heartily, the sound carrying over the quiet waves.
Tristan rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. “If that’s what it takes, I’m sure I can arrange something.”
Magnus chuckled again, clearly amused at the idea of being paid handsomely just to keep Tristan company. But as his laughter faded, Tristan’s eyes drifted to Elysia, who was quietly sipping her tea, a small smile playing on her lips.
“I’ve got plans for her too, once all of this is over,” Tristan said softly, his gaze lingering on Elysia. She glanced up at him, curiosity in her eyes, but he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he turned his attention to Cedric. “And you, Cedric? What will you do when this is all behind us?”
Cedric sat in silence for a moment, his gaze far off, as if the question had pulled him into a place deeper than the open sea surrounding them. “I’ll probably keep moving,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “It’s not something I can just stop.”
Magnus tilted his head, a touch of concern in his voice. “Keep moving? Even after everything?”
Cedric nodded slowly, his eyes drifting to Liora, who sat with Faylinn curled up beside her. “Yeah,” he said, his gaze softening. “But... there’s something I need to ask of you all.” He paused, then looked directly at Tristan. “When I’m gone... I want you to take care of Faylinn.”
Tristan blinked, surprised by the sudden request. He glanced at the small, glowing fox, her fur gently shimmering in the fading light. Faylinn lifted her head slightly, her glowing eyes meeting Cedric’s, as if understanding the weight of the conversation.
“You can’t stay with her?” Tristan asked quietly, though the answer was already clear to him.
Cedric shook his head. “I want to... but I can’t. There’s something for me to do, Something I have to do.”
For a moment, the ship was quiet, the gentle lapping of the waves the only sound. Tristan nodded slowly, understanding, even if it pained him. He thought back to the swirling lights they had witnessed, to the strange and powerful force that had pulled Cedric through time and space. Whatever it was, it was bigger than any of them, and he knew, deep down, that Cedric couldn’t stay—even if he wanted to.
“I’ll take care of her,” Tristan said firmly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. “You can count on me.”
Cedric offered him a small, grateful nod. “Thank you.”
The weight of Cedric’s words hung in the air, but it wasn’t heavy. Instead, there was a quiet understanding between them—a shared recognition of the burdens they all carried, and the uncertain future that awaited them beyond this journey.
Magnus, sensing the shift in mood, let out a long breath and clapped Cedric on the back. “Don’t get too gloomy on us now. We’ve still got a ways to go before we even think about any of that.”
Cedric chuckled softly, his usual demeanor breaking for just a moment. “Yeah, you’re right.”
The calm moment suddenly shattered as a loud, deafening crack echoed through the ship. Without warning, the wooden hull burst open, and seawater rushed into the lower deck in torrents.
"What's happening?!" Magnus shouted, scrambling to his feet as the cold water flooded around their ankles.
Tristan's eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at the gaping hole that had somehow torn itself into the side of the ship. "We’ve hit something!" he yelled, though deep down, it didn’t make sense. There was no reef, no rock, nothing visible that could have caused such damage. His instincts screamed that something was wrong—terribly wrong.
Cedric's mind raced as he tried to assess the situation. But amidst the chaos of the team scattering to get their bearings, one thought struck him with clarity: this wasn’t normal. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of the anomaly.
“Fay!” Cedric called out, his voice sharp and filled with urgency. The glowing blue fox, always alert to her surroundings, immediately sensed the unnatural shift in the air. She leapt from Liora’s side with an agile grace, landing on Cedric’s shoulder in a flash. As she settled there, her small form seemed to flicker, the soft blue light she emitted pulsing rapidly. Her ears twitched, and she let out a low, guttural hiss, her fur bristling as she turned her gaze toward the flooded lower deck.
Even Faylinn, with her heightened senses, knew something was terribly wrong. The water didn’t behave naturally—it didn’t carry the sound of a usual flood, but something far more sinister, as if it were pulling from a place beyond their reality.
Her hiss grew louder, warning Cedric of the unseen presence. Cedric’s eyes narrowed. He felt it too, the subtle shift of reality that doesn't add up.
Cedric spun toward Elysia, who stood frozen in shock. Her wide eyes locked onto the swirling water, her mind still reeling from the sudden chaos. He shook her shoulder firmly, snapping her back to the present. "Elysia, use your power" His voice cut through the panic like a blade, urging her into action.
Elysia nodded quickly, raising her hands, which glowed with a soft, golden light. The moment her power activated, the water pooling around their legs vanished, disappearing as if it had never been there.
Cedric’s expression remained tense. "Get everyone together," he ordered her, his voice calm but firm. "Take care of them. If you can, put them to sleep before they panic. It’ll be easier that way."
Elysia blinked in confusion. "What about you?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she watched Cedric begin to move toward the stairs leading up to the deck.
"I’ll deal with this anomaly," Cedric replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. There was something far more dangerous at play, and he intended to confront it.
Without waiting for her response, he climbed up to the deck, Faylinn still perched on his shoulder, her glowing eyes reflecting the tension in the air.
As Cedric reached the top, a gust of salty sea wind hit his face, but what he saw made his heart beat faster—not in fear, but in grim realization.
Looming in the distance, a massive creature, unlike anything he had ever seen before, hovered near the ship. Its body was an amalgamation of monstrous parts—a vast, amorphous mass of writhing tendrils, jagged limbs, and deep, glowing eyes scattered across its grotesque form. It slithered through the water, its enormous size casting an eerie shadow over the ship.
But Cedric didn’t flinch. He could sense it—this creature wasn’t real. No physical being could move like that, shift and warp with such ethereal fluidity. His instincts told him exactly what it was.
"Veilith," Cedric whispered, recognizing the demon’s handiwork. This was an illusion—one meant to terrify and disrupt their journey. The demon had likely come to greet them, knowing they were nearing the island.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Cedric’s lips. Veilith’s illusions had always been her strength, but now... now it was time for him to deal with her once and for all.
With a steady breath, Cedric gripped his sword and stepped forward into the night, prepared to face the demon lurking beneath the surface of reality.