“We’ll see if you still find it sweet when you have a child of your own or when Manohar discovers that that the children of the Verhen household can already project holograms.” Marth said with a smug grin.
“How do you know about that?” Lith’s heart skipped a beat.
“Kids like to banter. Aran showed his skills to Frey, who in turn told ‘Uncle’ Zogar about it when he visited Zinya. Vastor in turn told me and we’ll do our best to keep Manohar in the dark, but you need to be more careful.”
“If the Queen’s Corps learns about you teaching Light Mastery to the members of your family, the efforts of the Royals to put a leash on your neck will only get worse, especially now that you are single.” Marth said.
“Thanks for the advice. How is it going at the White Griffon?” Lith asked.
“Ryssa can’t wait for the child to be born and the security is as tight as it can. I don’t want to make you worry, but there have been several break ins in the academy. If not for its powerful defensive mechanisms, people like Wanemyre might have been killed.”
“What? How?” Lith sent cold shivers running down his spine.
“They all entered through the forest since our Gate is sealed. It took them a considerable amount of skill to avoid being detected by the arrays, yet they managed to escape our notice until it was too late.
“We only find them when they are dead.” Marth sighed.
“What do you mean?”
“The uniforms, remember? The White Griffon perceives whoever doesn’t wear one as an intruder and it sucks their life away the moment they cast a spell.” Marth referred to the peculiar ability that only the six great academies had.
Not only did they feed upon a mana geyser to sustain their power core, but they also drew their strength from the students. With each spell they cast, the academy would take a little bit of their energy to feed itself.
Intruders, however, would be swallowed whole, keeping anyone without an imprinted uniform from being a threat to the people inside an academy.
“Because of that, we never managed to capture and interrogate one of them. I’m afraid that this is just the calm before the storm. It’s only a matter of time before someone who has received a Balkor card slips up and the bastard makes their move again.”
***
Griffon Kingdom, City of Belius, a few days after Lith left for the Desert.
Almost a week had passed since the last time Constable Kamila Yehval had been at her apartment. After learning about Solus’s existence and breaking up with Lith, she had spent most of her free time at Lutia, in Zinya’s home.
Her work, instead, now kept her away from the military city since, as Jirni’s assistant, Kamila had to accompany her wherever a crime that required her attention took place.
The rest of her working hours Kamila would spend them at the Myrok Household, either examining documents for clues or filing paperwork.
The keys slipped easily inside the lock, yet turning them had never been so hard. Jirni being estranged from her family and her impending divorce only made the parallel between the two women closer, deepening Kamila’s wounds.
She avoided the apartment as much as she could because she could still smell Lith’s presence in the air. Every noise she heard became his footsteps in her head and she often saw his figure moving past a door just to realize it was all in her head.
Her eyes veiled with tears every time she walked through the door as the familiar environment triggered an endless stream of happy memories that now caused her only pain.
The kitchen was the second place where they had spent most of their time together, either cooking or eating together. Kamila could almost feel the smell of their favorite dishes and see Lith’s back while he made her breakfast.
The couch reminded her of all the evenings they had snuggled together, exchanging cuddles while Lith projected a movie or a theatrical play for her. Every time she had a bad day, Lith would prepare for her a heavy blanket, something sweet, and a comfort show.
The bedroom was the place where they had spent most of their time in Belius so it was off limits for obvious reasons. Yet after months, all those things had started to become dull and faded in her heart.
Kamila felt a grip on her stomach while walking through the door but her eyes remained clear and her steps steady. She went to a corner of the kitchen, where a small chest made of wood lay.
Her spirit faltered a bit as she opened the lid with trembling hands, revealing all the gifts that she had received from Lith over the past three years that she had yet to find the courage to get rid of.
On the bottom of the chest, there were her lucky clothes, that she had recovered from the trash bin and put inside a bag. On top of them, everything she had received formed several layers that told the story of Lith’s and Kamila’s relationship in chronological order.
First her gala dress and the jewels that he had gifted her when he had been promoted to Spellbreaker. Then the pieces of lingerie, the bags, and clothes that Lith had bought for her back when she was burdened with the debts for Zinya’s operation.
Everything was in perfect order but one thing.
The Camellia, the very first gift that she had received from him rested atop of the pile of items, shining its dying light as the last remnants of Kamila’s imprint were about to disappear.
The once blooming fire flower was now reduced to just a handful of petals, most of which withered to the point of no recognition. She watched one of them fall off and disappear into specks of red light as if it had never existed in the first place.
The vise squeezing Kamila’s heart became so violent that she had to fight an insistent tear that demanded to be shed as the past few months disappeared and she felt as if she had received the Camellia just a day back.
‘I promised myself that I would throw away this junk right after the Camellia died, yet here I am, again. I wonder if I’ll manage to watch its final moments or if I’ll chicken out again.’ She thought.
After the break up, Kamila had left the mystical flower in sight, to watch it fade and die just like the trust she had in Lith for the past three years. Yet the moment the Camellia started to wither, all of her rage turned into sweet memories and she ended up imprinting it again.
After one failure too many, she had put it in the box, hoping that the flower being out of sight would also bring it out of her mind. After renewing the imprint on the Camellia every day for so long, however, she still looked for it first thing in the morning, until reality slapped her sleepy brain awake.
She could almost hear the flower cry every time she didn’t feed it, almost hear its desperate pleas for help. It tore her heart to shreds because what she felt weren’t the needs of an inanimated object but her own.
