High atop Forbidden Harmony's territory, Blossom Lake mirrored the heavens in its serene beauty. A riot of color surrounded its clear, still waters, where hundreds of varieties of flowers bloomed in vibrant profusion. In the center of the lake, an island blossomed with its own floral tapestry, the edges framing a crimson pavilion. Beneath its shade, a woman in red furrowed her brow ever so slightly.

Whoosh--

A sudden gust of wind rustled the flowers, carrying a figure clad in white to the pavilion steps. The woman, delicate and breathtakingly beautiful, landed with a surprised bow before the figure in a scarlet dress that accentuated her curves.

"Headmaster," she addressed the woman in red respectfully, "have you concluded your retreat?"

The woman in red shifted slightly, her gaze falling upon the newcomer. The beautiful woman in white met those cold eyes and instinctively dipped her head in a gesture of deference.

"Angelica," the headmaster's voice, laced with a hint of steel, cut through the air, "has everybody really forgotten Forbidden Harmony these days?"

A jolt shot through Angelica as she looked up at the headmaster, Rachel Redrain, a name that was a potent brew of reverence and terror.

Prior to her ascension, the Order was merely a chaotic cabal, plagued by infighting and petty squabbles. Upon becoming headmaster, she immediately launched a campaign of conquest, unifying surrounding factions under her banner. Three decades of relentless warfare followed, solidifying Forbidden Harmony's dominance. Yet, Rachel's ambition went beyond mere conquest; she spent the next thirty years consolidating power and resources, earning the moniker "Celestial Witch." After another decade of restructuring, she deemed the Order self-sufficient and retreated into solitary study for sixty years.

"Please instruct me, Your Eminence," Angelica pleaded, her voice trembling as she knelt before the headmaster.

Angelica White, one of the Order's four revered Arch-Protectors, enjoyed the Celestial Witch's unwavering trust and acted as regent in her absence. If the Order's reputation, once fearsome, had waned in recent years, it could only be her fault. How could she not panic?

Rachel Redrain stared at Angelica White with an unnerving stillness. Sixty years of seclusion, meticulously planned for a smooth breakthrough, shattered by a surprise attack at the most crucial moment. Her assailant wasn't someone from the Order, but a rogue mage wielding the pristine spells of Azure Mountain. To make matters worse, the attacker harbored a hidden toxin within her own body, a vile concoction that erupted upon death, contaminating everything in an inescapable final act. Toxin invasion, loss of control during her breakthrough, burning desire, these were the disparate pieces Rachel was forced to assemble, leading to yesterday's events.

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The attack was unlike anything she'd encountered, a self-destructive ploy strictly forbidden to the likes of Azure Mountain mages. Yet, that's exactly what her assailant had done.

"Any whispers from those self-righteous guilds?" A regal tilt of Rachel's chin punctuated the question.

Angelica shook her head rapidly. "Nothing substantial. Azure Mountain, the closest to us, has been preoccupied with the Guild Conference. Doubtful they'd have the resources or the audacity for another confrontation, especially considering our past attacks upon them."

A chilling smile played on Rachel's lips. "Really?”

Angelica didn't dare to answer. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken questions. Finally, Rachel spoke, her voice cold like ice. "Maintain secrecy about my emergence. You remain in charge, but a purge is necessary. Let's check out how many vipers have infiltrated our ranks?"

A sliver of relief washed over Angelica; she had expected something worse. "Yes, headmaster," she stammered. The air crackled with tension, the only sound the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. Angelica held her breath, waiting for the inevitable storm to break.

Then, with a sudden shift, Rachel's voice softened, almost conversational. "Angelica, are you not a spy from another faction?"

Boom!

The question struck like a physical blow. Angelica slammed her forehead to the ground, voice trembling. "Your Eminence, how dare and how could I ...?"

With an imperceptible nod, Rachel cut her off. "You are dismissed."

As Angelica rose, her body wracked with nervous tremors, Rachel's voice stopped her once more, a cold edge returning. "Oh, and Angelica? Consolidate the Order's records. Highlight the key decisions of recent years. I need to understand what's transpired in my absence."

"Yes." Angelica's voice filled with awe and respect.

After Angelica retreated from the island, Rachel raised a hand to her mouth, a ragged cough tearing from her throat. She doubled over for a moment, her shoulders shaking as she fought to regain control.

Sixty years ago she trusted Angelica White. Now, after all this time, her faith in Angelica remained... unshaken, yet only Angelica knew the location of her retreat. When the attack happened, her first thought was that Angelica betrayed her. The very thought was unsettling. But so far..., she could continue to use her.

With a sigh, Rachel closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting to another. John Riversong, she mused, a name she needed to uncover, but should have forgotten. This stranger, this boy who had inadvertently and perhaps reluctantly become her savior, was destined to remain a stranger.

Under the cloak of night, she sensed a flicker of warmth pulsing from him, timid yet full of passion. A blush crept across her cheeks. Could he tell that she was as inexperienced as he was? She was surprised to find herself wondering about his thoughts on the previous night. Why should she care? They were worlds apart. Only a bizarre twist of destiny had them share one of their most intimate moments. She acted out of necessity. He was not given a choice.

He wasn't conventionally handsome, but somehow intriguing. In that desperate scramble, her toxin-fogged mind had sought not attractiveness, but insignificance, someone incapable of exploiting their encounter or posing any threat. That encounter should have been their last. Yet, deep within, she knew it wouldn't be. With these thoughts, her figure blurred, and in the next instant, she vanished from the lake.