Madam Valliere inhaled sharply, drawing her face into hard lines as she glared at Lita.
"You will keep away from her,"
she said, her voice carrying the weight of law.
"Sylana's designs are dangerous."
But Lita was left wondering; Was her aunt really right? Did she really have the purported capacity? What would it spell for her future?
After Sylana departed, the atmosphere around the mansion remained tense. Lita stood in silence, enmeshed in her thoughts about her aunt's cryptic words and her potential. Her mother, still standing like a rock, seemed to have wandered off in her thoughts for a moment. She turned toward Lita, who had put on a cold mask of authority.
"Go to your room, Lita," Madam Valliere said sternly.
"You are not to concern yourself with Sylana or what she said. Do you understand?"
Lita nodded, yet inside, her curiosity gnawed her even more. Quietly, she made her way upstairs toward her room with swarming questions in her mind:
What did Sylana mean by
"true self"?
And why was Mother so adamant about keeping her from it? From the very first, Lita had never considered herself special; certainly, she was not someone capable of wielding magic and weapons.
Once back in her room, Lita sat by the window, gazing out toward the foggy garden enveloping the mansion. The ghastly glow of artificial lights was soon eclipsed by the replaying of Sylana's parting words in her mind. Something primal, something waiting to be unleashed, lay within her, and for the first time, she felt long-forgotten pangs of yearning insisting on exploration. All through her life, her mother had kept her sheltered; this was all very well for her mother, who wondered now whether she'd provided Lita with too much security.
Suddenly, there came a soft knock at the door. It creaked ajar a bit, and Flare entered, followed by a frown on her otherwise calm face. She closed the door behind her and approached Lita carefully.
"Your aunt,"
Flare began softly,
"she's not someone to be trifled with. She's dangerous, and you would do well to heed your mother's warning."
"What do you mean?"
Lita gazed up at Flare, confused.
"But she said I had potential, that I could—"
Flare interrupted, her tone sharper than usual.
"Whatever Sylana promised you, it comes with a price. The power she speaks of is real, but it is dangerous. Sylana walks a dark path, and if you follow her, you may lose yourself along the way."
"What if Sylana was telling the truth about another power?"
Lita frowned, her curiosity mingling with doubt.
"Why hasn't Mother bothered to say anything before? Why have I been kept in the dark about this?"
Flare sighed and sat down beside her.
"Your mother is trying to protect you, Lita. The power that runs through your bloodline is not something to be taken lightly. It's not just about wielding magic or mastering weapons—it's about control. And control is something your aunt has always struggled with."
Lita bit her lower lip, torn between the words of the aunt Sylana and those of Flare. On one side, she was being drawn toward the very power Sylana had referred to; on the other were the warnings of her mother and Flare.
That night, sleep evaded Lita. Visions of a strange shimmering light and cold steel tormented her. She saw herself holding a sword in one hand while beginning to cast heavy magic with the other. It was exhilarating, terrifying at the same time, as though she was being tilted into a future that was hazardous and inevitable.