"You fail, and not only will the Matriarch hear of your incompetence… but your family—".
She stopped, letting the silence do the rest, she stopped and took a good look at the poor trembling girl.
Her expression softened for the faintest of seconds, then her gaze drifted toward the river of fire below, eyes distant, as if she were seeing a memory instead of the present.
"The choice between love and family…". She murmured, voice low but heavy with old weight. "I've stood on this bridge before, Lyra. And I made mine."
Her hand rose and patted Lyra's shoulder, not unkindly, but with the firmness of someone passing on a burden rather than comfort. "Choose wisely."
She turned and walked away, leaving her words behind, like a blade still twisting in Lyra's chest.
*****
"Are you okay?"
Levi raised his head slowly, blinking against the sting of sweat that clouded his eyes. The voice belonged to the woman who had pulled him back from death earlier.
Her words suggested concern, but her face betrayed nothing— cold, unreadable, as if carved from stone.
"Yeah…". Levi rasped, his voice unsteady. He forced a shallow laugh. "Yeah, I'm fine."
The look she gave him told him she didn't q believe a word of it. Suspicion sharpened her gaze, cutting into him more than his own pain did.
Levi was currently doubled over again, clutching his stomach as though trying to keep his insides from spilling out.
Sweat poured from him in waves, hissing as it struck the scorched tiles beneath, each drop releasing a faint mist. His breath came shallow, labored, and his knuckles turned white from the force of holding himself together.
Levi watched as she walked away, clearing not believing his words.
'Now that I think of it, she does look similar to Nayla'. He didn't notice the similarities before, due to the size of her chest. But now he could draw the connection.
'The hell's that bitch waiting for?'. Levi cursed in his head, glaring at Cecilia. The leech inside him squirmed, restless, as if tired of its cramped little apartment and eager to explore the world.
But its unwilling landlord had other plans— gritting his teeth, refusing its sudden eviction notice.
****
"What's wrong with you?" Cecilia's frown cut toward him. The boy looked pathetic— bent over, pale, dripping sweat like a man in fever.
"No- no nothing to worry about, my lady." Levi's voice strained, unconvincing.
Cecilia didn't press further. Whatever plagued him wasn't her concern. Her thoughts shifted instead— did Lyra tell him? But a glance at her bodyguard dispelled it— Lyra stood stiff, playing nervously with her thumb. No scheme there.
'Even if she tried something, I could put her down'. Cecilia assured herself. Levi? He wasn't worth considering. A commoner without an Avatar was as dangerous as ash in the wind.
Without another word, she stepped into the rippling air ahead.
***
The house was silent when they appeared inside, its wooden frame recalling an ancient Japanese manor. But the room itself was stripped bare—except for two things.
First, the carvings. Symbols wound across the floor and walls in endless spirals, an array etched into the very bones of the house.
Second, a mound of ashes. Not dull gray, but faintly glowing gold, like embers that refused to die.
Cecilia's brow furrowed. 'Where's the artifact?' Her gaze drifted back to the ash. 'Hidden underneath?'
She moved closer— but the air in front of her rippled like disturbed water. Her eyes sharpened as a memory clicked.
"I found some runes near the artifact," Lyra's voice echoed in her head. "It requires… a soul sacrifice."
Slowly, Cecilia turned toward Levi. Behind him, Lyra trembled, dagger clutched in her hand.
Cecilia's voice came soft, sharp as glass. "In your next life… do well enough to be born as a noble."."
Levi frowned, about to demand an explanation— then blood erupted from his mouth. He looked down. A blade jutted through his chest, pinning him in place. His body quaked once, then collapsed lifelessly onto the floor.
Cecilia flinched. She'd expected this, but the sight— the sudden stillness of a body— was harsher than her imagination allowed. She couldn't let Lyra see the crack in her composure.
Lyra stared at her bloodied hand, face blank, like part of her had died with him.
Then the array lit. Carvings burned blood-red, humming with power. The rippling air ahead dissolved into nothing, as if it had never been.
Cecilia's chest tightened as her eyes lingered on Levi's body. He had served her since she was ten. Whatever else she told herself, the pain of his loss was real. But she forced it down. Now was not the time to mourn.
She turned and stepped toward the golden ashes— just within reach— and took a moment to observe the fragrance of the divine energy of the three legged golden crow.
But then something sharp stung her, just underneath her hip.
Pain shot into her hip and up her spine.
Her breath caught. A burning spread quickly through her body, heat racing up her veins, draining her strength. She collapsed hard, vision blurring.
The last thing she saw before the dark took her was something slithering from her side— a parasite, clumsy as if it was unfamiliar with it's own body.
Then, blackness.