The home was peaceful—a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside Elysia.
Aiaris, calm and warm, sat across from her daughter at the fine, sleek table.
The meal was perfect.
Too perfect.
Elysia took a spoonful of Murito, savoring the taste like it was a memory of a different life.
"Mmm… still the same, Mum. Still the same taste… I missed this so much."
"It’s your favorite from childhood."
"It still is. Especially the way you make it."
"I’m happy you came home. Tell me about your school."
Silence.
Elysia froze.
Her grip on the spoon tightened.
She couldn’t tell her.
She couldn’t tell her what had happened.
How could she?
The murder. The betrayal. The fugitive life.
She glanced subtly at Fiesa, who stood by the living room, arms crossed, watching without emotion.
Elysia forced a smile.
"Oh… it’s great. Just… awesome."
Aiaris didn’t suspect anything—at least, not yet.
She took a sip from her glass before asking:
"And your two teasing friends? What were their names… Livia and Trigaha?"
Everything inside Elysia shattered.
Her fingers curled.
Her chest tightened.
Livia and Trigaha.
The ones she murdered.
With these hands.
She choked.
Coughed violently.
Aiaris jumped up, alarmed, and poured her a glass of water.
"Ely! Easy! Here…"
Elysia grabbed the glass, drinking hurriedly, trying to steady her breath.
She felt Aiaris’s comforting hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles—
And that only made it worse.
She couldn’t take this.
She had to get out.
Now.
"I’m going to the bathroom."
Before Aiaris could respond, Elysia was already gone.
Inside the Bathroom – Elysia’s Breaking Point
She shut the door.
Leaned against it.
Heart pounding.
Breath uneven.
And there she was.
Waiting.
Like always.
Fiesa.
Standing in the corner, calm, cold, unreadable.
She always showed up when Elysia was at her weakest.
"Embrace it. You have to tell her."
Elysia’s eyes burned.
Fiesa would never understand.
Fiesa was her creation, born from rage and revenge.
Fiesa didn’t feel pain the way Elysia did.
She didn’t feel loss.
She didn’t feel guilt.
She only existed to destroy.
And the worst part?
She was right.
Elysia’s fists shook.
"Just go away. Leave me alone."
"You know that’s impossible. We are one."
"Why are you even here?! You’re not making this any easier! This is all your fault!"
"Let me show her. Tell her the truth if you can’t."
"It would break her."
Fiesa waited.
No reaction.
Just silence.
She wasn’t cruel.
She wasn’t kind.
She was just there.
And that was worse.
Elysia stumbled back, gripping the edge of the sink.
Her mind flashed back to that night.
The Head Virtis.
The ritual.
How she begged for her life.
She should have let them kill her.
She should have just died that night.
Tears welled up.
Her reflection in the mirror blurred.
"I shouldn’t have begged her to let me live.
It’d be better if that Head Virtis had just killed me."
Fiesa’s expression darkened.
And for the first time, anger crept into her voice.
"You’re still so lame. So weak. So scared."
That was it.
The last push.
Elysia snapped.
Her fist clenched.
Purple light erupted from her hand, and she swung at Fiesa.
But—
Nothing.
Fiesa didn’t move.
Because she wasn’t real.
The punch landed on the wall instead, leaving a small crack.
And Fiesa just stood there, watching her fall apart.
"NO!"
- "This anger will make me stronger.
Not you."*
Elysia fell to her knees.
Her whole body shaking.
Tears streaming down her face.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
She was so tired.
So messed up.
So lost.
She covered her face with her hands, sobbing.
"What do I do?
I’m so messed up right now…"*
Fiesa watched her.
Silent.
Unmoving.
Because for all her power—
For all her cold strength—
Even she didn’t have an answer.
Location: The Red-Lit Castle of the Virtis – Midnight
A shadow moved through the darkness.
Hooded. Silent. Unfazed.
She walked across the central courtyard, passing the blood-red fountain, the dim light casting her long silhouette against the stone path.
She didn’t sneak.
She walked openly.
Because she was expected.
The tall, ancient doors creaked open—without a knock.
As if someone inside already knew she was coming.
The Virtis Castle was different from the rest of the realms.
In a world where technology thrived, where realms were filled with holographs, levitating platforms, and energy systems,
This place was frozen in time.
The walls were deep crimson, the lighting was low, and the air thick with the scent of burning incense.
Inside, in the vast living hall, she stood—calm, bold, unreadable.
And then—
She arrived.
The Head Virtis.
She stepped in from one of the many dark doorways, her presence commanding, unshaken.
She was graceful, dangerous, and most of all—patient.
She approached the shadow.
Fiesa.
And stopped.
"Did you get it?"
Without a word, Fiesa reached into her tunic and pulled out a book.
The ancient leather cover reflected the red light.
The title was clear.
‘Shrishgic’.
The Head Virtis took it from her hands without hesitation.
She studied it briefly, then looked back at Fiesa.
"Must've been easy for you?"
Fiesa’s voice was cold.
Emotionless.
"No. Had to kill some fairies."
She expected some reaction.
Some acknowledgment.
But instead—
Nothing.
The Head Virtis only hummed—like it was nothing.
And of course, to her, it was nothing.
Fiesa hated that.
"Hmm…"
(She flipped through the book, eyes scanning the delicate, ancient pages.)
"Does she know?"
Fiesa stiffened.
She knew exactly who she meant.
She didn’t answer immediately.
That was enough of an answer.
The Head Virtis paused.
Her lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.
"Then kill her too."
The air tensed.
Fiesa didn’t respond.
Didn’t move.
But the silence made the Head Virtis raise an eyebrow.
She closed the book deliberately, her fingers brushing the cover as she observed the lack of response.
A faint chuckle escaped her lips.
"Hmmm… I see."
"Leave her out of this."
The Head Virtis took a step closer.
"You know this doesn’t work like that."
Fiesa’s jaw tightened.
Her muscles tensed.
She was holding back.
But the Head Virtis?
She enjoyed this.
"You got what you wanted. My part is over."
She turned.
Ready to leave.
But—
A hand on her shoulder.
A gentle hand.
Yet immovable.
The Head Virtis stopped her.
"We are not done yet."
Fiesa gritted her teeth.
She knew this would happen.
She knew.
"Then you should have killed her when she begged you."
At this, the Head Virtis let out a small laugh—a knowing one.
She tilted her head, watching Fiesa with something between curiosity and amusement.
And then—
She said it.
The one thing Fiesa hated hearing the most.
- "Then how would I have created you?
FIESA."*
Fiesa froze.
She didn’t flinch.
She didn’t react.
But inside?
She was burning.
This woman…
This woman had the audacity to say her name like that.
Like she owned her.
Like she was her creation.
Her property.
Her pawn.
Slowly—
Fiesa lowered her hood.
Revealing her face.
And in that moment—
Fiesa wasn’t just Fiesa.
She was Elysia’s face.
But with eyes filled with something darker.
Something deadlier.
The Head Virtis smiled.
Like a mother pleased with her creation.
- "It’s good to see you again.
Elysia."*
Fiesa clenched her fists.
Her hands twitched with restrained arcane power.
- "This is my final word.
LEAVE HER."*
The Head Virtis only chuckled.
And then, slowly—
She circled Fiesa.
Step by step.
Like a predator studying its prey.
But Fiesa wasn’t prey.
She was something far worse.
But the Head Virtis wasn’t intimidated.
Because she knew something that Fiesa refused to accept.
- "Attachment, I see.
Since when does a Vyshek get attached?"*
Fiesa didn’t answer.
She wouldn’t.
She knew better than to feed into it.
Because the Head Virtis was a master manipulator.
And Fiesa refused to play her game.
The Head Virtis studied her for a moment.
And then—
She smirked.
- "Oh, my dear…
You still don’t understand, do you?"*
Fiesa finally spoke.
Her voice was low. Firm.
- "I understand one thing.
That I will rip this place apart…
If you ever touch her."*
The Head Virtis laughed softly.
And for the first time—
There was something dangerous in her eyes.
- "Ah…
Now that—
That is exactly what I wanted to hear."*
The dim red light of the Virtis Castle flickered against the stone walls.
Fiesa stood alone in the center of the living hall, her stance unshaken, her eyes locked onto the Head Virtis.
The air between them was thick.
A tension—like a blade pressed against skin.
The Head Virtis studied her, almost disappointed.
Then, she sighed.
"Come on, Fiesa… You’re going to betray your creator for that pathetic fairy?"
Fiesa said nothing.
Her jaw tightened.
The Head Virtis took a slow step forward, eyes narrowing.
"You are not like this."
Fiesa’s voice was calm but sharp.
"If this is meant to keep her out of this, then I won't have a second thought on it."
A slow, knowing smirk appeared on the Head Virtis’ lips.
- "I see it now…
She’s changed you."*
Fiesa exhaled.
Not in frustration.
Not in regret.
But because it was true.
"You won’t understand."
The Head Virtis let out a cold, amused laugh.
And then—
Her smile faded.
And she spoke, voice low and final.
- "No.
I understand perfectly."*
(She took a slow step forward.)
- "If you can’t kill her—
Then I will."*
Fiesa’s heart stopped.
She had expected this.
But something inside twisted violently.
And in that moment—
She knew.
There was only one way this was going to end.
"Don’t make me do this."
The doors of the living hall creaked open.
Three Virtis entered.
They moved without hesitation, closing in around her.
Encircling her.
The fight was about to begin.
Location: Dohi Mand – Midnight
A dark figure stood before a quiet home.
Sattira Dyn.
She had gone against orders.
She had been denied a search team.
She had been ordered to stand down.
But this time, she wasn’t letting Fiesa escape.
Not again.
Her heart pounded.
She was so close.
She knocked.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Silence.
No answer.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
"SATTIRA ENFORCEMENT! OPEN THE DOOR!"
Inside, Aiaris stirred awake.
She rubbed her eyes, confused.
She glanced at the clock.
A Sattira? At this hour?
Slowly, she rose, tightened the belt of her tunic, and made her way to the door.
She opened it—
And standing there, on her doorstep, was Sattira Dyn.
Aiaris tensed.
Not in fear—but in unease.
Sattira knocking on your door this late was never a good thing.
"Yes?"
Dyn scanned her.
Aiaris wasn’t alarmed.
She had no idea.
"Aiaris Ojijya?"
"Yes?"
(Slight hesitation.)
"Is something wrong?"
Dyn tilted her head slightly.
She couldn’t come right out and say it.
Not yet.
So—she lied.
A smooth, easy, perfect lie.
She smiled.
- "Oh, nothing serious! Just some paperwork.
Do Elysia still live here?"*
Aiaris relaxed slightly.
Dyn studied her reaction carefully.
She didn’t flinch.
She didn’t hesitate.
She didn’t know.
Aiaris had no idea what Elysia had done.
That meant Elysia hadn’t told her.
That meant—
She was still lying.
- "Yes… she’s my Aul.
Why? What happened?"*
Dyn smiled again.
A perfectly charming, easy-going smile.
- "Oh! Nothing bad. Actually, she applied for the Sattira.
Just some routine verification."*
Aiaris blinked.
Elysia? Applying for the Sattira?
That didn’t sound like her daughter at all.
But—
Would she really know anymore?
Elysia had been away for so long.
Maybe she had changed.
Maybe—
This was real.
"Oh… I see. But at this hour?"
Dyn shrugged.
A smooth, effortless gesture.
- "Ah, you know how it is. Work schedules are awful.
Plus, this mand is so far from the Uth. I had to take the last Ranit to get here."*
Aiaris nodded slowly.
It made sense.
- "That’s true… Transportation is always a hassle.
Umm… Vahi?"*
Dyn chuckled.
Perfect.
- "Oh, no, thank you.
Actually—can I see Elysia?"*
Aiaris turned slightly, glancing toward Elysia’s room.
She hesitated—just for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Right. She must be in her room. Let me go get her—"
Dyn immediately stood up.
Too fast.
Too sharp.
A mistake.
Aiaris paused, confused.
Dyn quickly recovered.
She smiled, laughing lightly.
- "No, no—how about you go make the Vahi, and I’ll go to her?
I promise, she knows me.
She used to annoy me back in school. I could get some playful revenge."*
Aiaris chuckled softly.
That did sound like Elysia.
She nodded.
"Alright. That’s her room."
(She pointed.)
"I’ll make the Vahi."
Dyn flashed a grin and made her way toward the room.
Her steps were calm, but her mind was racing.
Her heart pounded.
This was it.
She was so close.
She gripped the door handle—
Slowly. Carefully.
She pushed it open—
And then—
Her stomach dropped.
"Not again."
The bed was empty.
Elysia was gone.