[Realm: Uhorus] 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

[Location: Verdantis]

[Capital City]

Lucinda had thought that stepping outside the chamber would ease the pressure sitting against her chest.

In some ways, it did.

The air beyond Alyssia’s room felt clearer against the lungs despite the cold climate of Verdantis. The silence outside lacked the suffocating atmosphere as well. There were no cramped walls hemming her in and no crowded room filled with truths capable of overturning everything she thought she understood.

And yet the gnawing sensation remained.

She could not tell whether it was unease, disbelief, or lingering shock from everything she had learned thus far. Perhaps it was all of them together, tangled tightly enough that she could no longer distinguish one feeling from the next.

Lucinda stood quietly within one of the courtyards belonging to the old Verdantis castle.

It was beautiful in a way that seemed unnatural. The castle itself had carried the cold look expected of Verdantis—stone walls, towering halls, and old architecture touched by snow. Yet the courtyard felt like something stolen from another land entirely.

Green hedges lined the cobblestone pathways with meticulous care. Flowerbeds bloomed with vibrant colors. Bushes had been trimmed into elegant shapes, and vibrant grass spread beneath their feet untouched by even the smallest trace of snow.

Which seemed absurd.

Because beyond the courtyard walls, Verdantis remained buried beneath winter.

Lucinda’s eyes drifted upward briefly.

The sky was still the same, and snow still fell beyond the invisible boundary surrounding the courtyard. Yet none of it crossed into this place.

Then realization came easily, a spell.

A relatively simple one at that.

Not simple in scale perhaps, but simple in concept. A barrier preserving temperature and environment. Ordinarily, Lucinda would have remained alone with those thoughts, quietly attempting to organize the chaos inside her head.

But Alyssia stood beside her.

"Cosmos atrosanguineus. Lotus berthelot ii. Impatiens psittacina..." Alyssia spoke quietly, though her tone carried visible disapproval. "...and more."

Lucinda glanced toward her fellow spawn.

Alyssia’s red eyes were narrowed sharply at the flowerbeds around them as though personally offended by their existence.

"What fool planted these here?" she muttered.

Lucinda blinked.

"What do you mean?"

Alyssia turned her head slowly toward her, giving her a look so flat and unimpressed that Lucinda almost felt embarrassed for asking.

"These flowers are not suited for this climate," Alyssia stated as though explaining something painfully obvious. "Verdantis possesses harsh winters, powerful frost currents, and minimal natural heat beyond certain regions." Her gaze shifted back toward the flowers. "If the barrier maintaining this courtyard were to collapse, these plants would die almost immediately."

"Oh."

Lucinda blinked once.

Truthfully, she still did not entirely understand why Alyssia sounded so bothered by it.

"I am sure a preservation spell could maintain them," Lucinda offered carefully. "Even if the barrier failed."

For some reason, Alyssia’s expression only became drier.

"What would be the point then?" she asked.

Lucinda paused.

Alyssia stepped toward one of the flowerbeds, crouching slightly as pale fingers brushed gently across a red petal.

"If everything must survive through force alone," she murmured quietly, "then eventually none of it is truly alive anymore."

Lucinda opened her mouth instinctively.

Then stopped.

"Oh," she almost said again.

But silence felt more appropriate this time.

The wind moved softly through the courtyard.

The barrier surrounding the area dulled most of the brutal cold native to Verdantis, leaving behind only a small chill that stirred Alyssia’s pale hair and shifted Lucinda’s lightly behind her.

Lyra had intentionally left them alone.

Or rather, "given them privacy," as the Court Mage had phrased it.

Apparently because they were both spawns of Octavia. Meanwhile, the others remained inside discussing matters Lucinda suspected were equally important. Normally she would have appreciated the chance to gather herself quietly. Instead, she found herself increasingly aware of the person standing beside her.

Her fellow spawn of Octavia.

Someone who should not have existed, someone from three hundred years ago, and someone who looked close enough to Lucinda that they could have passed as sisters.

There were countless questions clawing at her mind.

Too many.

And yet strangely, she found herself hesitating to ask any of them.

Her gaze drifted toward Alyssia again. The white-haired girl had gone quiet, eyes lingering across the flowers with an odd softness to them.

"Merely ask what you want to," Alyssia suddenly stated.

Lucinda stiffened ever so slightly.

Alyssia did not even look toward her.

"Staring will avail nothing."

Lucinda blinked, caught off guard before awkwardly clearing her throat.

"Right... sorry." A brief silence followed, then, somewhat uncertainly, Lucinda spoke again. "So, do you like flowers?"

Alyssia hummed quietly.

"I suppose so."

Her answer came simply enough, though her gaze remained fixed ahead.

"I used to maintain a personal garden," she continued after a moment. "Not particularly large, but enough." A pause followed. "Though admittedly I spent more time wandering the courtyard than tending to the flowers themselves."

Lucinda listened quietly.

Alyssia’s expression softened ever so slightly; it was small enough that someone less observant might have missed it.

"Back then," Alyssia murmured, "the courtyard was louder."

Lucinda tilted her head slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"Knights training." Alyssia’s eyes lowered. "Servants running about. Nobles arguing over meaningless things. Children hiding from lessons. The kitchens constantly smelled of bread. "A breath escaped her. "The castle truly felt alive."

Her voice remained calm throughout the explanation, almost too calm. Like someone recounting memories they had revisited so many times, the emotions attached to them had dulled from repetition.

"Though," Alyssia added quietly, "three hundred years have passed since this castle belonged to me."

Lucinda froze slightly at the statement.

Three hundred years. Every time she heard the number, it made her more confused. She did not doubt it, but her mind struggled to truly comprehend it. Three hundred years, entire bloodlines could rise and vanish within that span of time. Kingdoms could collapse; history could become distorted.

But Alyssia stood beside her now like someone only a few years older; Lucinda found herself studying her again despite herself.

The similarities truly were unsettling.

("Just how did she come to be?")

Curiosity gripped Lucinda again.

"Was it lonely?" The question left her mouth before she could stop it.

Alyssia blinked once.

For the first time since they entered the courtyard, she finally turned fully toward Lucinda; the expression on her face was unreadable.

Lucinda almost apologized immediately.

Then Alyssia looked away again.

"I always had Lyra," she answered softly.

"You and Lyra do seem close," Lucinda noted idly after a stretch of silence.

The words were simple, spoken more from observation than curiosity, yet they drew an immediate reaction from Alyssia.

A small smile appeared across the pale girl’s face. It softened the sharpness that usually lingered around her expression and, for the briefest moment, made her look even younger.

"She is like a mother to me," Alyssia said without even the slightest hesitation.

Lucinda blinked at the immediate answer.

Something about it surprised her. Perhaps because Alyssia carried herself with so much pride and irritation that it was difficult imagining her speaking so openly about someone else. Yet there was no embarrassment in her voice, no reluctance either.

Alyssia’s gaze drifted back toward the flowerbeds as the small smile remained.

"Despite the vastness of the castle, despite how quiet it could become, I was never truly alone." Her voice softened slightly. "Even on nights when the halls felt empty. Even when everyone else had retired. Even when responsibilities kept her away for days." She exhaled quietly through her nose. "I always knew Lyra would return eventually."

Lucinda listened silently.

"She always did," Alyssia continued. "Sometimes exhausted, sometimes irritated, and sometimes covered in enough blood and dirt that the servants nearly fainted at the sight of her. A small breath of amusement escaped her. "But she always came back."

The warmth in her voice deepened.

"And every time she did, the castle stopped feeling so cold."

Lucinda lowered her gaze slightly at that. There was something sincere in the way Alyssia spoke about Lyra. Not idolization exactly, it was trust that built slowly over years.

"It broke me to leave her," Alyssia admitted quietly. "Even if it was only temporary."

Lucinda’s brows furrowed slightly.

"Leave her?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Alyssia fell silent, the warmth on her expression dimmed just slightly, and then she answered.

"Death came for me."

Lucinda froze; the words were spoken plainly.

"You died?" the armored spawn questioned carefully.

Alyssia nodded once, wordlessly. The wind stirred between them, carrying the scent of flowers through the courtyard. For several moments, Alyssia said nothing else. Her red eyes merely lingered over the rows of flowers ahead as though searching through memories only she could see.

"Lyra had to make a choice." Her voice was quieter. "And she made the correct one."

Lucinda’s confusion only deepened.

Alyssia continued before she could ask further.

"I know how difficult it must have been for her as well." Her fingers tightened against the fabric covering her arms. "More difficult than it was for me, probably."

Lucinda opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Because Alyssia’s expression had shifted.

"I just wish..." Alyssia started softly, then stopped. Her eyes lowered. "I wish I could see my—"

The sentence died there; Alyssia inhaled quietly before shaking her head once.

"No," she muttered. "Never mind." A small huff escaped her afterward, almost annoyed with herself. Then suddenly she glanced sideways toward Lucinda again. "Why am I even telling you all this in the first place?"

The abrupt shift in attitude caught Lucinda off guard enough that she blinked twice.

"...I do not know," she admitted honestly before giving a small shrug. "Perhaps because we are both spawns of Octavia."

"A rather boring reason."

Lucinda let out the smallest breath of laughter despite herself.

Alyssia fully turned toward her then, folding her arms loosely beneath her chest.

"Fine," she declared. "I spoke about myself. You do the same."

"Huh?" Lucinda stared at her. "But what exactly am I supposed to tell you?"

"Anything." Alyssia waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever comes to mind."

Lucinda still looked visibly uncertain, causing Alyssia to slowly close her eyes as though enduring immense suffering.

Then she rolled those crimson eyes dramatically.

"What did you enjoy doing?" Alyssia clarified. "There. A simple question."

Lucinda hesitated.

"Uhm."

Alyssia stared.

Lucinda looked genuinely troubled by the question.

"I am... not sure?"

The stare Alyssia gave her somehow became even drier.

"That is concerning."