Whispers of Magic

The bitter smoke of greed

Airi sent a letter back to her father, explaining she would return, but on a condition.

He would still let her do whatever she wanted that didn't stand in his rules.

The head sat alone in his dimly lit chamber, the doors to the back open, allowing the moonlight to slip inside like a silent intruder. He scoffed, a mocking laugh escaping his lips as he held the letter over the flickering candle flame. The candlelight was just bright enough to cast eerie shadows on his hands and face, illuminating his  grin. The edges of the letter curled and blackened, the words turning to ash as the flames consumed them.

"What does she even mean by letting her do whatever she wants?"

Another voice spoke from across the room. The person's face was lit up by the dim moonlight.

"Father, I suggest you let her do what she wills. It will manipulate her into thinking that nothing odd is happening. After all, she is clueless of anything but herself,"
a young girl spoke, her voice tinged with innocence.

She appeared no more than thirteen, her complexion pale and her demeanor as delicate as a porcelain doll. With an air of innocence, she seemed the very embodiment of fragile beauty.

"ah, you are the only daughter I know"
The head's grin twisted devilishly, his voice echoing through the room louder than the chirping of grasshoppers outside. He had once entertained the thought of burning them alive, a cruel idea that now seemed to flicker behind his eyes. Haruka, unfazed by his dark humor, met his gaze steadily.

"I know, father," she replied calm. But as silence settled, a rare contemplation crossed her father's face, drawing Haruka's curiosity.

"Father, what's on your mind?" she inquired, sensing his thoughts drifting into deeper waters.

He looked at her sharply, acknowledging her perceptiveness. "You still possess that keen sense, Haruka. Impressive as always," he praised softly.
"I was considering the resurgence of the Tsumarian magic through that detestable girl."

Haruka listened attentively, nodding in understanding. "She did rise to become a Special Grade. But why does this concern you, father? Surely there's more."

He nodded thoughtfully. "What if she is the one born with the Unseen? The ultimate power we want, so that we could be kings. Could it be linked to her...little magic? Or perhaps, the Panacea's prophecy was wrong?"

"I see your point, father," Haruka responded, mulling over his theory. "But the prophecy must be true as it is considered holy. It states that such a child would be born of combined powers—Six Eyes with Infinity, or Ten Shadow with our Bloodmoon. All of us lack these blood connection, including her."

The head smiled knowingly, his gaze distant as if contemplating a puzzle only he could decipher. "You're correct, Haruka. Perhaps I've been thinking nonsense."
"Soon, we will reach our goal. We have the potential. This time, instead of the first rat, we will accomplish it through her" His expression softened briefly before he redirected her attention. "Rest now. Tomorrow, you'll meet her."

Haruka chuckled lightly, bidding her father goodnight as she left the room. Her footsteps were barely a whisper against the floor, her demeanor shifting subtly as she walked to her room under the darkening sky. Rain began to fall, washing away the smile from her face.

"Their minds are too malleable," she whispered to herself, a hint of mockery creeping into her voice as she walked to her chamber.

Morning arrived all too soon, the gentle patter of dewdrops fell from the leaves and flowers of the garden, settling softly onto the fresh grass and clover below. The night had been marked by a downpour, leaving the landscape glistening in the early light. Today marked the return of the cursed sorceress to her family's main residence, a place she had not seen in eight long years.

Airi stood before the cold golden gate, a structure crafted entirely from pure gold. Its lustrous surface gleamed with such brilliance that it was said even the sun hid in its presence. Yet, to Airi’s eyes, it might as well have been stone.

She observed four men, each with a small silver badge on their suits, the emblem of the Yasuhiros. These men opened the heavy gates for her.
Thier wealth is derived from a chain of luxury hotels spanning Japan, afforded them such extravagant and unnecessary possessions.

Airi entered the premises carrying only a handbag, without any suitcases or additional luggage. The tension between her and the Yasuhiro men was unmistakable; she sensed their nervousness as she passed.

'Well, this is new,' she thought with a tinge of pity. 'Never thought they had any emotions left after all they endured.'

With determined steps, Airi made her way toward the main residence of the clan head. Surrounding the principal house were numerous smaller structures, all reflecting the same architecture. Beds of meticulously tended plants and flowers adorned the landscape, interspersed with stately trees.

The sound of her combat boots striking the natural stone path echoed through the still morning air. She noticed faces peering out from behind windows and around corners, their curiosity barely concealed.

At least twenty servants stood in a line before the residence, awaiting her arrival. They bowed deeply as she approached.

"I knew they wouldn't come out to see me," she scoffed inwardly, noting the absence of the clan leaders.

"Where are my clan members?" Airi demanded, her gaze fixed on a nearby servant.

"Mistress, they are waiting for you in the meeting room. Please proceed there," the servant replied, bowing even lower.

"Hmm..." she muttered, as another servant took her handbag and a third led her toward the designated room.

She entered through the main door, stepping onto floors made from Kuri, a richly colored Japanese chestnut wood. The sliding doors, crafted from a latticework of wooden frames and covered with translucent white paper called Shoji, were adorned with intricate traditional artwork. These were new additions she hadn’t seen during her previous residence.

Soon, she found herself standing before another door, closed and familiar.

"The meeting room..." she recognized it instantly.

A whirlwind of emotions surged within her—rage intermingled with nervous anticipation. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to face the room and the people within, each step heavy with the weight of her past and the bitter future that lay ahead.