In a world where ancient forces and dark secrets intertwine, a mysterious hybrid emerges, both human and demon.
Its mere existence disrupting the fragile balance between light and dark. Chaos, destruction, bloodshed, that's what is gained from this...
Irene stood alone in the moonlit clearing, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she readied her bow. She hadn't held it in years—since before Ambrose and the birth of her daughters. The weight of it felt familiar, yet foreign in her hands. Tonight, however, was not about comfort. It was about preparation.
The forest was still, the only sound being the rustle of leaves in the wind. Irene knew that soon, this silence would be shattered by the chaos of battle. That. . . . demon was still out there, and after Ambrose's death, there was no denying the truth any longer. She would have to return to the Exorcist Order. She grimaced at the thought. But to do that, she had to train—reclaim the warrior she once was.
She drew an arrow from the quiver strapped to her back and nocked it, her muscles tense with the effort. Irene raised her bow, aiming at a makeshift target she had set up in the trees. She inhaled deeply, feeling the energy in her body begin to surge. As she exhaled, she loosed the arrow, watching it streak through the air with a trail of shimmering light behind it.
BOOM!
The arrow exploded on impact, the flash of light illuminating the forest for a brief moment before everything returned to darkness.
'Flashbang Arrow. Still works.'
She couldn't deny the thrill of feeling her powers again—the rush of energy that coursed through her veins, the precision of her shot. But with that thrill came an overwhelming sadness. Ambrose should have been here, watching her practice, encouraging her with that smile of his. Instead, she was alone. She would always be alone now.
Her thoughts drifted back to her daughters—Blossom and Cherry. How long had she been hiding this part of herself from them? All these years, she had tried to shield them from the darkness that was a part of her world, a part of who she was. But Ambrose's death had shattered that illusion. The past was no longer something she could run from.
Irene raised her bow again, this time firing a rapid succession of arrows, each one exploding in a brilliant flash. Her movements were swift and precise, muscle memory guiding her as if she had never stopped. But beneath the surface, her emotions churned—anger, grief, and a fierce need for vengeance.
"Vengeful Barrier." she whispered, summoning a shimmering wall of energy before her. It pulsed with power, responding to her emotions as it always had. The more anger she felt, the stronger the barrier became.
Her mind flashed with memories of Ambrose, his smile, his laughter, the way he had always made her feel safe. And now, he was gone—taken from her by that demon's hand. It enraged her. The barrier around her flared brighter, crackling with energy as her rage boiled over.
The blast of energy that followed sent a wave of light rippling through the forest, flattening the grass around her. Irene lowered her bow, breathing heavily as the barrier flickered and faded. The power inside her was still there, stronger than ever, but it didn't bring her the comfort it once had. Now, it felt like a burden—a reminder of everything she had lost.
A sound in the distance made her freeze, and she instinctively reached for another arrow. But as she turned toward the source, she saw a familiar figure standing at the edge of the clearing.
"Mom?" Blossom's voice was soft, hesitant.
Irene relaxed, lowering her bow. "Blossom. . . what- what are you doing here?"
Blossom stepped forward, her eyes wide with awe as she looked around at the destruction her mother had caused. "I woke up and. . . I heard noises. I didn't know you could do all this."
Irene swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed. She had never wanted her daughters to see this side of her—the warrior, of what she used to be. But there was no hiding it now. "There's a lot about me that you don't know." she said quietly, looking away.
Blossom approached cautiously, her gaze fixed on her mother's bow. "Were you training?"
Irene nodded, her heart heavy. "Yes. I used to be part of the Exorcist Order. Before I met your father."
Blossom's eyes widened in surprise. "An exorcist? You were one? Like. . . the ones from the stories?" Her shock being quite evident.
She stifled a laugh. "Yes and no." Irene said, her voice barely above a whisper, a soft smile graced her lips. "Stories tend to make it sound more tame."
Before Blossom could question what she meant, her mother continued to speak.
"But I left that life behind when I married your father. I wanted to protect you and Cherry from this world."
Blossom was silent for a moment, processing the weight of her mother's words. "So... why are you training? Is it because of what happened to Dad?"
Irene looked down, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped her bow. "Yes." she admitted, she had nothing to deny. "I can't sit back and do nothing anymore. I have to stop whoever did this to your father. I have to protect you and your sister."
Blossom's expression hardened. "I want to help."
Irene's head snapped up. "No, Blossom. This isn't your fight." Her response came out sternly.
"Why not?" Blossom's voice was firm, her eyes flashing with determination. "If you have these powers, maybe I do too. And if there's something out there that killed Dad, I want to help you stop it."
Irene opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her lips. She saw the fire in Blossom's eyes—the same fire she had felt when she first joined the Exorcist Order all those years ago. Her daughter was just like her.
With a sigh, Irene lowered her gaze. "Blossom, this life... it's dangerous. You don't know what you're asking for."
"I don't care." Blossom said, her voice unwavering. "I want to fight. I want to protect Cherry. And I want to avenge Dad."
The conviction in Blossom's voice left no room for argument. Irene knew that once her daughter made up her mind, there was no stopping her. ". . . Alright." she said quietly. "I'll teach you. But you have to promise me something."
"What?"
Irene met her daughter's gaze, her expression serious. "Promise me that you'll never let your anger control you. Power like this—it can consume you if you're not careful."
Blossom nodded solemnly. "I promise."
Irene took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her decision settle on her shoulders. "We'll start tomorrow."
As Blossom smiled, the determination in her eyes unwavering, Irene couldn't help but feel a pang of fear deep inside her. She had trained to protect her family, but now she was training her daughter to walk into the same danger she had once faced. It was a path full of darkness and uncertainty, but there was no turning back now.
Tomorrow, their training would begin, and Blossom would take her first steps toward a world Irene had tried so hard to shield her from.
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