Tales of chronicles

On the inside, the temple was most likely crumbling apart; out here, the walls began caving in around them.

"There's no time for thinking about that right now,"

Flare said as she yanked Lita's hand and dragged her towards the exit.

"We need to get out of here, or we'll be buried alive."

Together, they raced for the light at the end of the corridor, the temple crumbling behind them. Just as they crossed the threshold, the entire structure collapsed, a massive cloud of dust and debris rising into the air.

They stood outside, breathing harshly, and watched as the once mighty Temple of Shadows fell apart into rubble.

Then came a moment of silence.

Then Flare turned to face Lita and said solemnly,

"This is not the end. Seraphis will come back for you. Expect him next time."

Lita nodded, determination washing over her. She knew the fight against Seraphis was in its infancy. Now, though, it wasn't just a fight to survive. It was a fight for her family, future, and identity.

And she would not face it alone.

As the rubble settled and the dust began to clear, Lita and Flare sat on the ground catching their breath. Exhausted but thankful to be alive, their hearts still pounded with the mixture of battle and near-escape that had just happened. The evening air, cool and sweet, felt like heaven after the warmth suffocating darkness of the temple.

Lita glanced at Flare, who was still tense as she viewed the settings.

"We are fine,"

said Lita, with slight relief in her voice.

Flare nodded but did not speak. Still, her hawkish glare kept darting about, keeping an alert attitude brought on by unholy silence while they maunted the other forest about them.

Then came footsteps out of the mist, slow, deliberate, and armed with power. Flare tensed instantly and stood up in front of Lita as if this was a reflex. Her body was tight and rigid, eyes flashing around her as she kept her hand on the hilt of her blade. Whoever was coming had an overwhelming presence-dark and huge.

Footsteps grew louder, came closer, each sending chills through Lita's spine as if the air was humming with a strange and unsettling energy.

"Stay behind me,"

Flare whispered low and sharp.

A familiar voice then broke the silence as the figure emerged from the mist. 

"Well, well... I grant you a singly simple job -taking care of a child- and this happens,"

the voice said cold, cutting the fog with the cleanness of a knife. There was even a measured calm in the tone, but its sharp rage was unmistakable. 

Lita's heart flinched to a stop. She knew that voice.

And then her mother stepped out from the mist.

She was tall, graceful, and exuded a strange mix of intimidating grace and awe. Her long hair was dark enough to follow her like shadows, and beneath them, brilliant but unpredictable eyes were recording odd values. The aura around pulsed dangerously-like calmness most of the time but threatened to explode violently, making it impossible to know what she would do next.

Flare, upon seeing her, immediately lowered her guard, stepping aside as if by reflex. But Lita mother expression remained cold, her eyes fixed on the both of them with barely restrained anger.

"Madam Valliere-Dear,"

Flare said, bowing her head, though her voice was buttressed with uneasiness.

"I-"

"Silence."

Her mother's voice was hard, demanding immediate compliance.

"Do you have any idea how close to losing her you have come?"

Flare's fists clenched fiercely, obviously trying to keep calm.

"It wasn't-"

"I gave you one job,"

Lita's mother went on, her voice gaining volume.

"One. Simple. Task. Protect her. And here I find you dragging my daughter into a temple filled with death and danger."

Lita felt the weight of each one like a blow: she had never seen her mother angrier than seraphis-the cool model to which her demeanor was dropped into a fury so barely contained. 

"I-"

Lita began, but her mother glared at her with such a cold and frosty stare that the words froze in her throat. 

"You do not even understand the kind of dangers you've been exposed to,"

her mother said, her voice very quiet but with an undercurrent of menace.

"The world outside this mansion is not for you, Lita. And as for you…"

Her gaze turned back toward Flare, who remained silent but visibly tense under the pressure. 

"I trusted you,"

Lita's mother continued, closing the distance to Flare.

"Of all people, you would know what happens when I am disappointed. One job, Flare. One. Job." 

Flare's eyes darkened, but she kept her head lowered. No more to meet her master's gaze.

"Madam Valliere, I… failed you." 

"Yes, you did,"

hissed Lita's mother, her aura bubbling with stormy rage but reined in.

"And I do not take failure lightly." 

Several long breaths fell into silence, a blade ready to fall. The presence of Lita's mother became too overwhelming, too terrifying, so that even the wind seemed to breathe out for a moment. 

Then with a gesture that seemed too kinetic for any amount of holding books together, her mother reached forward to grab Flare by the collar, so that she bounced effortlessly off the ground. 

Normally composed and unflappable, Flare flinched as her mother tightens the grip on her. 

"You will not fail again,"

her mother says, voice low and deadly.

"Do you understand?" 

Flare nodded, her expression pained.

"Yes, Madam." 

Her mother released Flare, allowing her to drop to the ground. Flare caught herself but did not stop from gasp-heavy breathing and regained composure shortly after. She stood back up, her head still bowed in submission. 

Lita, who witnessed all this, felt fear and confusion in equal amounts. This was not the mother she knew, the calm, composed lady who had always treated her with a slight, distant but gentle affection. This was a completely different transformation-an awesome and furious forces that could not say into control. 

She turned to Lita, softening her countenance but still carrying a sharp edge in her gaze.

"You are not to leave the mansion again, Lita. Do you understand?" 

Lita nodded, so softly that she could hardly be heard:

"Yes, Mother." 

The expression of her mother remained unreadable for a moment before she breathed out a long, slow breath, and some of the tension finally showed.

Once she was out of earshot, Flare let out a long breath she had been holding, her hands trembling a little.

"That was too close."

Lita remained speechless.

"She was so… angry."

Flare nodded, now nervous, an uncommon sensation for her.

"An enraged mother is something nobody wants to experience."

She glanced at Lita.

"But we survived. That's what matters."

But even as Flare spoke, Lita could feel the change in the atmosphere. The memory of Angéle's wrath was the reminder that thick darkness still blanketed the remnants of the little sorceress's home, and the consequences would not be readily forgettable.

As the mist faded away, it became apparent to both of them that the next time that Seraphis—or someone else who would desire their lives—crossed their paths, they would not be allowed any mistakes.

Her mother's icy reprimand cut through the stillness like a knife as Flare remained stony, her shoulders tense. 

"You are a disgrace to our family, Flare,"

her mother spat, venom coursing through her tone like an arrow imbued with a dark magic.

"I entrusted you with my most precious responsibility. And instead, you let your emotions cloud your judgment."

Flare's fists clenched, and she bowed her head even lower, the weight of her failure heavy upon her. Lita, standing silently behind her, felt a pang of guilt. This was not how it was supposed to have happened. 

"I am impressed, however."

The edge had softened, but not by much, in Lita's mother's voice.

"You defended her with your life. For that, you've earned some redemption. But don't mistake that for forgiveness. You broke the oath to keep Lita inside the mansion, to keep her safe."

Lita's mother paused. Her vibrant gaze cut through Flare and onto her daughter.

"Forget the outside world, Lita. It isn't supposed to matter to you, never has, never will."

Just as she was about to go on, a faintest of sounds bare footsteps approaching from behind. It was so quiet and subtle that even Flare, with her assassin's hearing, would never have caught it.

But Lita's mother did.

Without turning around, she spoke in a voice laced with venom.

"Your life is over…."