The Dark Covenant: Mage Wars

THE BLOOMING WARRIOR IV

Martha descended the creaking wooden stairs, her eyelids weighed down by the lingering embrace of slumber. The struggle to acclimate herself to the daylight that seeped through the barely parted curtains was evident in her every blink. Her quest began with a scan for her daughter's presence—there was only one place she could be found at a time like this.

With each step, deliberate and measured, she trod with care, careful not to fall victim to her own home—her clothes would get caught in the oddest of places, tripping her. The journey led her to Alicia's chamber, a rite etched into her daily routine. There, Martha intended to burst forth, flinging wide the curtains, and awakening her prone-to-oversleeping child. Yet, a strange feeling filled the room as Alicia, always a heavy sleeper, evaded her mother's sight—where could she be?

Martha's journey led her to the living room, where she eventually found her. Alicia stood bathed in the gentle radiance of the sun, her gaze drawn outward, toward the garden of blossoms, painting their Manor's entrance. Perhaps the years of service and training in the army had changed that little girl Martha once knew—it had been long enough for something to alter her daughter, anything.

"By the gods, you're up before the sun today," Martha said, joining Alicia on the balcony.

Alicia smiled. "You act like it's a rare sight, Mother."

"It is," Martha said. "You should have become a knight sooner. It would have spared me many sleepless nights, and my voice some strain."

"Come on, I wasn't that bad," Alicia said, her eyes twinkling. "I was a darling child."

"Is that so?" Martha said. "Well, if that was your darling side, I best not think of your disruptive side."

They laughed together. Martha's eyes then settled on the sword resting against the balcony rail.

"What?" Alicia asked softly, sensing her mother's curiosity.

"Nothing," Martha said. "It's just... time flies so fast, doesn't it?"

Alicia's smile faded.

Alicia's smile tugging her cheeks loosened, just for a moment. She tried to force it back but Martha caught it—nothing ever escaped that woman's insight, nothing. She could see the storm brewing inside her daughter.

"I know you don't like to talk about him much," Martha said. "But it's alright. Words are not as important as memories, and your face tells me everything," Martha's voice was soft and soothing as if she was treading on thin ice.

"What face?" Alicia asked, caught off guard.

"I know you better than you know yourself, daughter," Martha said. "Did something happen last night between you and the king?"

"It's nothing to worry about, Mother," Alicia said. Her eyes fell back to the sword once more. 

Martha despised blatant lies. But she had grown to ease her maternal touch to one lie, one she had disregarded and allowed to fester too deep a wound within her daughter's mind, and her tongue with which she perpetuated it. It gave her comfort, albeit a temporary one. While her tongue and mind would often engage in falsehoods, her eyes never did. Perhaps this was because Martha knew herself well enough to recognize her own deceitful emotes in her daughter—they were mirrors of each other, both in body and mind. And perhaps it was with this shared union of traits that she knew what Alicia needed most of all at that moment. She knew.

"Come with me, daughter," she said, resignation in her tone.

Alicia followed her mother's lead.

The dawn broke over Heagen town, a gentle awakening from the night's slumber. A thin mist hung over the land, cloaking everything in a soft embrace. The sun, a shy but persistent guest, cast its first golden rays through the thick canopy of trees, creating a play of light and shadow.