Varithra returned to the Nyxara warcamp, stepping past the tattered banners that fluttered weakly in the ever-present gloom. As she walked, she could feel the wary gazes of soldiers and warlocks lingering on her, some filled with fear, others with silent judgment. None dared approach her, though she had long grown accustomed to it. Ever since childhood, she had struggled to control her Entropic Flames, and the scars left in their wake had instilled terror in those around her. She did not blame them.
As she made her way through the camp, a young man hesitantly stepped toward her. His movements were stiff, as if his body was urging him to turn and flee.
“L-Lady Varessa has summoned you,” he stammered.
Varithra narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
The man swallowed hard, unable to meet her gaze. “She… didn’t say.”
His discomfort was obvious, and she sighed, dismissing him with a flick of her hand. “Fine. I’ll go.”
The man nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get away. She shook her head before making her way toward the dark teleporter at the heart of the camp, the swirling portal pulsing with deep violet energy. Stepping through, she left the battlefield behind and emerged onto her home planet, Nyxara.
The capital city stood as grim and imposing as ever. It was a kingdom of eternal night, where no light had ever touched the obsidian spires that pierced the sky. Unlike Abyssia, where she had witnessed daylight for the first time, Nyxara had always known darkness. The air carried a strange stillness, filled only with the distant whispers of the ever-burning torches lining the streets.
Varithra made her way toward the grand palace at the city's core. As she entered the shadowed halls, she spotted her mother, Lady Varessa, speaking with another woman—Maria, her mother’s closest friend. Varithra had always regarded Maria as a second mother. Unlike Varessa, whose presence commanded fear and respect, Maria had always been warm and kind to her.
She approached and gave a small bow. “Mother. You summoned me?”
Varessa turned to her, her piercing gaze unreadable. “We need to talk.”
Maria gave Varithra a reassuring smile before gesturing for them to follow. Together, the three entered Varessa’s private chambers. Once inside, Varessa sat and folded her hands, her voice cold yet expectant. “Do you have anything to say?”
Varithra stiffened. From her mother’s tone, she knew that she already had the answer.
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She exhaled. “I’ve been fighting the Cursed Child… with a Luminara woman.”
A sharp crack echoed through the room as Varessa’s slap connected with her cheek. The impact sent a dull ringing through Varithra’s ears, leaving her momentarily stunned.
“Varessa!” Maria shouted, stepping between them. “Don’t strike her. Let’s talk this out.”
Varessa’s expression was livid, but her voice remained level, dangerous. “If the Order of Nyx learns of this, they will have both of us executed.”
The Order of Nyx—Nyxara’s ruling council. Her mother was among them.
Varessa turned back to Varithra, eyes burning with anger. “What were you thinking? Making an ally out of the enemy?”
“She is not an ally,” Varithra said firmly. “We just had a common goal.”
Varessa scoffed. “You think that’s an excuse? You expect me to believe you fought alongside a Luminara for survival and not because you hesitated?”
Varithra clenched her fists. “She is still my enemy.”
Varessa shook her head in disappointment. “You are suspended from the battlefield for a week. Use this time to reflect.”
Varithra bit her tongue, knowing there was no use in arguing.
Just as she reached the door, she paused. “Is it worth it?”
Varessa frowned. “What?”
Varithra turned to face her, eyes searching. “The cycle. The war. Is it really necessary to keep killing?”
The room fell into a tense silence.
“Stop,” Varessa said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Do not speak words you cannot take back.”
Varithra looked at Maria, hoping for some support, but Maria merely shook her head, silent. Realizing she was alone in her doubts, Varithra said nothing more and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
—
Varessa remained seated, staring at the spot where her daughter had stood. For a long time, she said nothing.
Maria sat beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re worried about her.”
Varessa exhaled heavily. “How can I not be? She’s been saying and doing strange things lately. She questions things she shouldn’t. And questioning the war… it terrifies me.”
Maria squeezed her shoulder gently. “She is young. She will learn.”
Varessa leaned forward, resting her forehead in her hand. “I just don’t know what to do.”
They sat in silence for a while before Maria finally spoke again. “Are you sure about the ritual? We still need more time to perfect it.”
Varessa’s eyes darkened. “We have to do this. It is the only way to end the war. We must burn every single Luminara out of the cycle itself.”
Maria studied her for a moment before sighing. “Very well.” She stood up, preparing to leave. “Get some rest, Varessa.”
Maria had only taken a few steps when Varessa reached out and grabbed her wrist. Maria turned back, surprised.
“Stay,” Varessa murmured, her voice quieter, almost vulnerable. “It’s been a while… and I’ve been lonely.”
Maria hesitated, then gave a gentle smile. “Of course.”
As she sat back down, their fingers intertwined, and Varessa leaned in. Their lips met in a slow, familiar kiss before the scene faded.
—
Elsewhere, Varithra sat alone in her room, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts swirled—Caelum, Lucielle, her mother, the war…
“Is it worth it?” she murmured to herself.
The cycle, the endless battle, the killing—was there truly no other choice?
For now, she had no answers. But at least for one week, she would not have to fight. And to be honest… she liked it that way.
A world without war. A world without killing.
With that final thought, she closed her eyes and let sleep take her.
