“Thank you,” Nocte murmured as she reached for the hot chocolate.
She hugged the cup in-between her hands and breathed in the warm steam. She could taste the vapour swirl down her throat, open her lungs, and settle over her heart like a warm blanket. Feeling the buzz of heat in her fingertips, she looked to her digits and shook at the sight of her ink-stained hands. In response, the hot chocolate slipped over the rim of the cup and gathered in the saucer.
She cursed, both for breaking her composure in front of the maid and for losing a sweet drop of much-needed heaven.
“Would you like more milk, milady?” the maid (bless her!) asked, as if Nocte had not been acting like a fool, throwing ink bottles every which way and collapsing suddenly onto the floor in a fit of tears.
“No, Trillium,” she spoke hoarsely, throat swollen from the cry. “Thank you.”
The maid, Trillium, curtsied and left the room, closing the door softly on her way out and leaving Nocte and Lit Sek to themselves. No one said a word as the orc sipped on his tea patiently.
His cup, unlike Nocte’s tea cup, was a gàiwãn, more of a bowl with a lid to keep the liquid warm. He seemed to appreciate the Xonese-styled dishware as he took another sip. Sitting at the other side of the living room, and across from Nocte, Lit Sek knew she needed time to settle before anything serious could be discussed. And so he gave her time by setting his tea down and picking up the steamed bun waiting on his plate.
“Mmm,” he admired after a good swallow. “This is a good mān tou.”
Nocte smiled, glad for the distraction. “My chef, Iris, is from Zyrinth, but she’s trained in Xonese cuisine.”
Lit Sek nodded, munching on the bun.
Her smile faded then, and she brought the cup to her lips to hide her waning expression. The fact of the matter was that her sifu had come unannounced, with no prior warning. She could only guess as to why he was suddenly in front of her. Perhaps something had happened?
“Everything is… well?” she asked carefully.
“So far,” Lit Sek answered.
Nocte felt a spike of alarm.
“So far?” she enquired.
“Yes, exactly that,” he said calmly. “Everything is well, so far.”
Nocte didn’t know how to reply to that. The “so far” in Lit Sek’s answer seemed to hold weight; enough weight to sit heavily on her mind; enough weight to make Nocte suspicious of her sifu’s sudden visit.
“Good,” she said as an afterthought. “Do you want more mān tou?”
“No, I’m fine,” the orc said, taking another sip of tea.
Another silence ensued, this one awkward and prebuscent. Nocte fiddled with her cup, no longer feeling the urge to drink as Lit Sek sat there stone-like, worn and ancient.
“I came from the Yin Manor,” he said, breaking the silence. His orcish half got the better of him, the impatient half.
“Oh,” she murmured, setting the hot chocolate aside. “And how is my bro – Lord Yin?”
Her stumble was not missed, but simply ignored as Lit Sek answered, “Well. He had called for a meeting two days ago with us and the Dark Moon Sect.”
Nocte’s eyes drifted to the floor. She grew quiet, not knowing what to say or how to act. Six months without seeing him, without seeing them, had made her family seem like strangers. Strange enough that she was no longer privy to their affairs or going ons.
She felt like she was on the outside.
And it felt normal.
“It’s funny how fast people can adapt to their situations,” she said, more to herself. “I feel like I’m standing still – very still, and I don’t think I want to move.”
Lit Sek frowned then. “You don’t care about the meeting?”
She cared. Of course she did, but what would caring leave her with?
“Insomnia,” she thought, smiling at her humourless joke. “How are the others?”
She could not bring herself to ask, “How is my mother?” She was not brave or strong enough to meet the answer yet.
“They are just as well,” Lit Sek replied. He decided not to call her out on her changing the topic – not when she had that face on. “They are capable Elders, as many had expected.”
“Of course,” she said.
Six months ago, when Gash had been ushered into the leadership of the Yin, he had been quick to replace the Elders whom Nocte had killed in her brief period of madness. It hurt, of course, (more than words could say) when Gash had chose everyone but her – everyone but the traitor.
She understood. Of course she understood. She would never say it out loud, but she was even a little grateful of Gash. By not being a part of the Yin Council, she wouldn’t have to face her family after her shameful betrayal. And thus, Gash had spared her of further embarrassment, whether he had meant to or not.
Nocte turned to the window, her mind rewinding back to March. By then, she had already reached Laurel Tree and had begun to map out the irrigation system of the fields. A message had arrived, placed neatly and discreetly in her hands, that announced that her brother, Gash, had been fully initiated into the Lord Yin position and that Ebony, Occult and Dire were now three of the four Elders.
The fourth was not Nocte. She could still remember the deep sting she had felt when reading the letter.
What really hurt was that the fourth wasn’t even her mother. If her mother wasn’t chosen then it meant her illness was worse than Nocte had thought. Now, in August, Nocte craved to see her mother, a mere glance would suffice.
Surely Malise had noticed her being gone?
Nocte tapped her cup absentmindedly.
But then again, maybe not.
“Your mother is the same,” Lit Sek informed regretfully.
Nocte tensed, her shoulders still and her mouth a firm line. She should be relived, right? If her mother was the same, then she was certainly not worse…
If she was the same, then she was still ill.
Lit Sek pursed his mouth and withheld a sigh. “The school year will be starting soon?”
Nocte’s mind flashbacked to Gash’s letter and felt the familiar burn behind her eyes. She could only manage a jolty nod.
“Then you should get your supplies tomorrow,” the orc advised.
She frowned, adding up her accounts in her head. (She then remembered the untouched reports John had left on her desk. She must get to those soon.)
“You can visit your mother on your way back,” he said.
A sharp intake of breath, as if she had been stung, and she turned to met his eyes.
“Do not look at me like that,” her sifu chided. “Do not run away.”
“I am not running,” Nocte insisted. “I am not going anywhere.”
#
She flipped through her wallet for the millionth time.
Money: Check.
Identification: Check.
Debit Card: Check.
Enough courage to brave the Yin Manor, tossing aside guards if need be while surviving her sister’s psycho psychic glowy purple eyes?
Nocte sighed.
She wished, but unfortunately her wallet was too small for such things. (She knew she should have gone with the bright pink one with the extra pockets. Damn missed chances!)
“Are you sure you do not wish to take the carriage, milady?” John asked anxiously.
Nocte closed her wallet and dropped it in her bag. (A bag! Imagine Nocte turning girly!) “Yes, I am sure.”
John frowned, jarring his glasses when his muscles moved unexpectedly. “Milady, it is not wise to go alone.”
“She won’t be alone, John,” Ivy Armstrong, alias Boreas, said, coming up from behind him. Her dark skin shone like obsidian in the summer sun as she smirked at John’s expression. “We’ll be in the shadows.”
“Like, a ninja,” Christine Evelyn, otherwise known as Zephyrus, added with her customary cellphone in hand.
Nocte looked to the fields as a rush of wind whipped past her. It was a shame, really, that Lit Sek had to leave early this morning for Fog Mountain. She would have liked to have lunch with him, even if she preferred to shop in the morning and laze around at noon.
“Milady,” Kara Sundancer, a.k.a. Notus, hummed. “Your aura is quite muddled today.”
“Anything wrong?” Janelle Huntington – Eurus – worried.
Nocte dug through her shoulder bag and half-lied, “No. A bit stressed though.”
She didn’t want to tell them how nervous she was to visit the Yin Manor after their shopping trip. There was no need for them to know that she was feeling out of her element.
“If you’re worried about money,” Janelle comforted, “we brought our wallets too.”
That startled Nocte and she flustered, “No! I’m fine. I’ll manage!”
Ivy chuckled. “You’ll have to pay us back, so it’ll be all right.”
Nocte frowned. She didn’t like owing anyone anything. John, similarly, did not like such talk.
“Our Ladyship has her debit with her,” he said, refusing to look at Nocte.
He had turned the question into a statement. No loyal servant should question their Mistress.
Just in case, Nocte opened her wallet again and was relieved to find the Debit Card exactly where she had placed it.
“What’s, like, taking Melissa so long?” Christine complained, her perfect nails clacking against her phone impatiently.
“I wouldn’t be taking so long,” a voice sounded almost irritably,“if I wasn’t the only one getting the horses.”
Speak of the devil…
“Thank you, Witley,” Nocte said, smiling at the sight of her horse.
Xiōng, a powerful black warhorse, had been given to her by her parents for her thirteenth birthday. Nocte remembered how utterly chaotic that birthday had been – gifts being flung at her from every which way. Those were the good times – the times when her father was still alive, her mother was normal (or as normal as Malise could be) and everyone was talking to her…
Xiōng nudged her then and she almost fell over if not for grabbing the reins quickly enough. She wanted to scold the horse, but planted a kiss on his nose instead. She knew he meant well.
“Caw!”
Nocte looked over to her raven, Yōng. Yōng was Nocte’s gift for her fourteenth birthday. Both her horse and her raven had helped her endlessly through her trials and tribulations over the years. They were wonderful gifts from her parents – as if her father knew she’d need them later.
She kissed Yōng on her head softly before getting up on her horse – the Winds mimicking her action with their chosen horses.
“Ready, mistress?” Witley asked.
Nocte dug into her bag and withdrew a large key ring. There were a total of ten Keys, one for each capital city of the Empire (including the capital city of Xon), one for Měi Fèng’s private office, and the last being for Laurel Tree – each a different colour. The Gate Keys were a present from Měi Fèng during the Empress’ coronation back in April, a perfect gift for emergency travelling.
Nocte chose the key with the name “Zhōng” inscribed on the bow. With a buzz of chi in her fingertips, she inserted the key in the air and turned it clockwise. A short, heartbeat later a gate opened up in the air, a tall rectangular doorway.
“Happy shopping, milady.” John bowed as Nocte dropped the Keys back in her bag. “Come back safely.”
“I will, John,” Nocte promised. “Be well.”
John bowed again as Nocte and the Winds slipped into the Gate.
With Yōng at her shoulder and Xiōng close, Nocte saw the swirl of colours glide past her. Three heartbeats later, the colours spun and settled into a solid green and blue, of grass and skies. There was a breeze, untouchable until they stepped out the Gate and onto the ground. In a rush, the wind tangled her hair and she wanted to smile – wanted, but couldn’t. If she could pause Time, she would pause it at the precise moment when the air was cool and the sun was warm.
But life had no pause button, or a rewind one.
There was only play.
“Mistress?” Witley called. “Shall we go?”
Nocte snapped from her thoughts and forced a smile.
The Gate had spit them out beside the main road leading to Zhōng, the capital city of the Xonese Empire. Although not early in the day, the mass of people making for the city was still numbering high for the morning. Ever since the short war over the Xonese throne, businesses and trades people had been eager to invest in infrastructure, taking all they could due to the poor economic state. Some even hoped, with a young, inexperienced Xonese Queen in the palace, to even dupe the government of funds.
Funds that Nocte was not willing to part with.
“Hey!” a man cried. “Thief! Thief!”
Xiōng jolted straight, Yōng bristled and even Nocte held on for a fast chase, but they hadn’t needed to act when a beautiful brown mare flew onto the road and proceeded to weave through the packed crowd. A flash of brown skin, a spark of brown eyes and a skim of dark braids – Nocte knew, exactly, who the rider was.
She looked to Witley, who smiled and bowed her head, as if she had just performed some mystical trick.
“Ah!” the thief exclaimed when the mare blocked his way.
“You have the nerve, boy,” the rider spat, “to steal from innocent people.”
Catching the rider’s eyes, Nocte didn’t know whether to feel relieved or a deep trepidation.
Was she courageous enough to face her? At that moment?On that day?
“No,” Nocte whispered.
But if push came to shove, she was going to have to face Aman.
She sighed as the population stopped to stare at the rider who was of Iavindat descent, pretty and tough. Bow on her back, arrows at the saddle and mace at her hip, Aman Rafiki was Nocte’s best friend from Athena Academy – way before Evil had come into the picture. It was strange, Nocte thought, how even after years of being away from each other, they could still survive through a test of love and friendship, and even through their duties to the Empire.
It was as if they had enough faith in each other that nothing could break them.
As if the deities had given Nocte one thing – just one thing – to help her through the tough times – the times of being alone.
Several city guards had come to the scene of the crime and that was when Nocte realized that the thief was but a young boy, possibly six or seven. He was pale and dark around the eyes, and Nocte could tell, just by looking, that he had been one of those children who had seen the horrors of the civil war months ago.
Even half a year later, the reminisce of darkness still lingered. Some got rich during and after the war, and then there were some, evidently, who had not.
Nocte gave a small nod, a sign, and the Winds broke from her to talk to the city guards. Aman, who was explaining the situation to the guards, saw them coming and stopped the conversation to allow the Winds to deal with the authorities. A shared look between Aman and the Winds permitted Aman to move from the guards and towards Nocte.
The poor boy would be fine.
“Surprise!” the Lady Archer (as dubbed by Empress Měi Fèng) cheered softly when they met.
“I’m surprised, Aman,” Nocte said, obtaining a smile of her own.
Smiles were hard to come by nowadays.
“C’mon.” Aman beckoned for the gates. “Pyralis and Corliss are waiting for us.”
Nocte hesitated.
Aman she could deal with… but Corliss?
The Lady Archer must have noticed Nocte’s expression because she paused also. Nocte was pretty sure Aman knew something was up months ago, but hadn’t drilled her yet. Over the months, they had met very little, what with Nocte busy with Laurel Tree. It was fortunate that they had found the time to call each other.
But not enough for Nocte to spew out all her feelings.
Not enough for Nocte to disgrace herself in front of her friend.
“You okay?” Aman asked tentatively.
Nocte nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Aman didn’t say anything when she led them into the city. Nocte knew that someone should break the silence, but couldn’t bring herself to as Yōng flew to the sky to meet with Aman’s falcon, Elsu. The fact of the matter was that-
“Hey, Nocte!”
She breathed in deep and bore a weight when she looked up to face the perky pigtailed redhead bouncing on the street. Beside the Lady Healer was the Lady Alchemist, her blonde hair now dyed black and bound in a side ponytail that slid down her back. Light meets dark between those two, a happy-go-lucky contrasting a gothic.
After so many months, Nocte could finally look at Corliss in the face without inwardly cringing.
“Hi, guys,” Nocte replied, knowing that her mouth was curved upwards, but her heart wasn’t in it.
Because Corliss…
“You’re late,” Pyralis stated, tone flat as always.
Nocte perked a brow. “I didn’t even know you guys were coming. Witley surprised me.”
Because Corliss was the one who had lived…
Aman chuckled. “Yeah, we kinda planned it on you.”
“We thought to cheer you up!” Corliss said with joy. “You’ve been really busy!”
Nocte’s heart softened and her smile felt real again.
Because Corliss was the one who had lived instead of her father.
“Okay!” Corliss exclaimed, shaking with anticipation. “Pyralis and I spotted a candy store while we were waiting! Nocte, you’re going to love it! It has lollipops and gum and liquorice and chocolate and candy and STUFF!”
Despite her feeling incredibly down, Nocte still felt her pulse skip at the very thought of chocolate. How long had it been since she had indulged?
Too long.
“We should hurry before you two self-destruct,” Aman joked.
Nocte had to admit, she should have gotten together with the girls a long time ago – regardless of her guilt concerning Corliss and her father.
There was more to life than just death.
Shouldn’t there be?
“C’mon!” Corliss beckoned, all but yanking Nocte off of Xiōng.
Aman chuckled, even Pyralis looked amused, and said, “I’ll put our horses at a stable. You guys should go ahead.”
“I’ll go with you,” Pyralis was quick to snatch up Aman’s offer. “I don’t want to witness a sugar rush this early in the morning.”
“Okay, it’s decided,” Nocte said, feeling bubbly. “Let’s go, Corliss!”
“Okay!” Corliss yelled, immediately dragging Nocte off into the busy street to an unknown destination.
She felt a burst of laughter as her legs tried to catch up to Corliss’ unexpected turns and sudden bursts of speed. People looked, but only caught fleeting sights of them, as if Nocte could escape, as if she could out-run them all…as if she could be free.
“Here it is!” Corliss cried out with delight.
Nocte giggled – actually giggled – at the sight of the bright candy store. Corliss had been right, there were lollipops and gum and liquorice and chocolate and candy and STUFF! So much stuff that Nocte started to count her money in her head again.
She should have enough.
“Why are you just standing there?” Corliss asked, starting to get worried. “Do you even want candy?”
“Oh, yeah!” Nocte answered without missing a beat. “Let’s go!”
She should really get some sweets for the village children and for her household staff. They’d been working so hard and Nocte was disappointed with herself for not giving something back.
Corliss squealed when they entered the store; Nocte had to hold hers in as they dashed about giggling and sharing their preferences. Bright candy in bowls that cast light on the floor, glittery wrapping that sparked in Nocte’s eyes and sweet sugar smell in the air. There were free samples – FREE SAMPLES! – that sent them over the edge. By the time Aman and Pyralis had arrived, they were already in a sugar rush, and the other two could do nothing but sigh and acknowledge the fact that it was going to be a long day.
“Not even ten minutes and you guys are gone,” Aman sighed. “Great. That’s just great.”
Nocte giggled as she hugged a bag of chocolates to her chest.
And then the window opened; the beams of sunlight rushed out the shadows. It was as if Nocte’s smile – her carelessness – brought in a warmth the girls had not felt in a long while. Aman’s expression softened and Pyralis’ felt her annoyance subside to a comfort. Even Corliss noticed Nocte’s happiness and felt tears coming to her eyes.
It seemed like everything was back to the good old days, the happiness, the brightness, the innocence, and they held onto that feeling of belonging – however brief it was.
#
After purchasing school supplies and a mini-food fight in the restaurant consisting of throwing salt at each other, the girls were to part that afternoon.
“You’re going back to Laurel Tree?” Aman asked.
And then the door closed; the beams of sunlight were shut out from the shadows. Reality checked in and it wanted its happiness back.
“Yeah.” Nocte’ s answer was hollow.
Pyralis’s eyes tightened at the sudden change of attitude, and Corliss frowned.
But no one pointed it out, still believing that, perhaps, everything would be all right again.
“I should get going,” Pyralis said. “The matron is probably having trouble with the kids.”
Sometimes Nocte forgot Pyralis was an orphan.
Corliss stuck her tongue out and complained, “My parents told me not to be gone for too long. Sometimes they cuddle me too much.”
Aman smirked at the healer’s childish antics. “So we’ll see each other later?”
“I’ll see you at school,” Pyralis told Nocte.
“And we’ll see each other at school,” Corliss reminded Aman.
“We’ll find time to see each other,” Nocte said, but even the promise didn’t sound very promising.
“All right,” Aman said, a tad sceptic. “We’ll call.”
“Okay,” the Lady Healer agreed. “Seeya!”
“Farewell,” the Lady Alchemist said.
“Bye,” the Lady Archer bid goodbye.
“Talk to you later,” the Lady Necromancer, Nocte, said as she watched them step into the Teleportation Gates, leaving her behind.
Sighing quietly, Nocte tugged Xiōng along towards the Gate to Medius. She wondered where the Winds were, but figured that some were probably waiting for her at Medius while others stood close by to watch her depart before following...
“Okay, you can stop acting now.”
Nocte snapped around to see a serious Aman staring back at her.
Her heart leapt to her throat in surprise. “I thought you had gone.”
“I came by horse,” Aman reminded, pointing at her mare. “You should pay attention.”
Nocte swore under her breath, and pretended she hadn’t.
“Well?” Aman asked testily. “Care to tell me everything?”
“Everything?” Nocte echoed questionably, gripping at the reins.
“Yes.” Aman was adamant. “Everything.”
Nocte swallowed. She wondered how she was going to lie out of this predicament, but one look at Aman’s face and all her plans disappeared. Aman was smart, sometimes smarter than Nocte (and no one was smarter than a Yin), and there was no possible way Nocte could get out of this one without being hurt in some way, shape or form.
And she had to tell her.
Six months of hiding from her best friend was not helping their relationship.
Nocte had already cut ties with her family, but with her friends?
Could she live without her friends?
“No,” Nocte relented. “Not here.”
Aman understood. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” Nocte answered.
The archer’s expression took pity. “Sanvalant Plains?”
Nocte nodded limply. “Sanvalant Plains.”
“I’ll go with you,” Aman said, being supportive.
Nocte felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for,” the Iavindat assured as they stepped into the Gate for Medius.
Nocte had no words, much too touched to voice anything.
In more ways than one, Nocte supposed, Aman was her best friend for a reason. She could tell her anything and not be judged. That was why, when they stepped into the Gate for Dirum, Nocte did not hesitate to confess when they stepped into the Sanvalant Plains.
“It’s Corliss,” she said.
“Corliss?” Aman queried with a perk of a brow. “So all this silence, this awkwardness, is because of Corliss?”
At the sound of it, even Nocte was becoming a bit incredulous herself.
Her jaw hardened. “Remember when Corliss died?”
Aman became grim, but did not interrupt. She must have known that this was hard for Nocte.
Nocte heaved in a breath, suddenly finding herself shaking. Perhaps she wasn’t as ready as she thought she was.
“Well…” She swallowed broken glass. “I didn’t Resurrect her.”
Aman was confused… and then realization dawned. “The sealing bracelet.”
“Yeah,” Nocte said. “Exactly.”
“Then who did?” Aman questioned, and then her eyes grew wide. “Farhat.”
Farhat; a grim reaper belonging to the Low Council. He had followed Nocte around the country for months, saving Corliss… taking her father.
Eyes empty, Nocte explained, “He saved Corliss as a favour to me. By saving her… I owed him later.”
Aman was beginning to put the pieces together, her heart beating loud and dreadfully against her ears. “It couldn’t be…”
Nocte stared ahead, at the long grassy plains, at the horizon where the green cut off the blue so indefinitely. She remembered how she had ran away from home two years ago and how hard she had made Xiōng slip through the Sanvalant Plains in order to get away fast. How ironic it was that now it was her family who didn’t want her and not the other way around.
“Farhat wanted my father,” Nocte continued. “I… had to make a choice.”
A tear came unbidden then and Aman felt so useless, as if she had failed as a friend.
“I had to make a choice between my father and Corliss…”
Aman was speechless, not knowing what to do or say.
Perhaps no one would have known how difficult Nocte’s choice had been. Her family wanted her father. Nocte had wanted both family and friend.
Why?
Why did they make her choose?
“I-I…” Nocte stuttered as their horses pulled to a stop, their birds landing in jittery flurry.
“You didn’t choose,” Aman surmised. “You couldn’t.”
Nocte felt her heart stop.
How could Aman know her so well?
“But it doesn’t matter!” Nocte shouted. Couldn’t Aman see? Couldn’t her friend see just as well as her family? “My father is dead!”
Suddenly, Aman had her in a hug and Nocte felt the tears stop. It really was hard, nowadays, to keep crying when crying was no use.
“You think it’s your fault,” Aman scolded. “That’s stupid, Nocte, and you know it.” She gave her a little shake. “I was there, remember? I heard you father.”
“Nocte. Let me go.”
She squeezed her eyes.
“It’s not your fault,” Aman comforted. “Stop pitying yourself.”
Her breath stuck in her throat.
Pitying herself?
Was that what she had been doing?
A person like her, a traitor like her, did not deserve pity.
“I can’t believe this is the reason for all of this mess,” Aman said. “You didn’t choose your father. You didn’t choose Corliss. Because there was no choice. Look at me, Nocte.”
She lifted her eyes from the ground.
“I know this is hard for you to accept,” the archer said. “But it was your father’s choice.”
“Nocte. Let me go.”
No. Nocte didn’t want to believe it. It was her fault.
Her father was innocent.
“Do you understand me?” Aman asked.
“Yes…” she lied.
“Good…” Aman said, even when she could see through her lie. Drawing away from her friend, Aman couldn’t help but feel a deep, dark sadness at Nocte’s expression. What could she do when Nocte wasn’t letting her in? “You should go see your mom now. Stop stopping yourself. Even if you blame yourself for your father’s death, life goes on. Don’t you want to be there for your family when they need you?”
Nocte hesitated. The problem with that statement was that…
“Nocte?” Aman prompted.
“Yeah…” she answered hollowly with a blank nod. “I want to be there.”
“Good.”
The problem with that statement was that they didn’t need her.
So now she was lost.
#
The curtains had been drawn shut in her mother’s room. There was no light, not even a glow of a candle to keep her mother company. Nocte had snuck into the manor alone, leaving Xiōng and Yōng just outside of the property. Aman had departed minutes ago just before stepping onto Yin ground. Nocte had had to Shadow Travel into her mother’s room; the servants did not appreciate her – not after her betrayal to the Yin name.
Her throat closed up when she spotted her mother lying limp in her over-sized bed. It hurt to see her mother looking so tiny, swathed in feather comforters and pillows. When Nocte had been young, the bed hadn’t looked nearly so big, not with her mother and father occupying it. But now, with just her mother, it seemed so lonely and sad.
“N-Nocte?” her mother crooned.
Her heart twisted and she quickly zipped across the room to take hold of her mother’s weathered hands. Since when did Malise look so old?
“Hey, mom,” Nocte whispered softly, brushing stray strands of hair from her mother’s forehead. “How are you?”
“Hm… good,” Malise sighed, a faded light in her eyes. “I haven’t seen you for months.”
Nocte smiled. “Sorry, mom. I’ve been busy.”
So far, so good.
“So Occult has told me,” Malise said.
Her mother had lost some weight since the last Nocte had seen her, and it seemed her mother had lost her spark. It pained Nocte to see how much pain she had caused her mother.
Aman had been wrong.
It hadn’t been her father’s choice, because her father would never deliberately hurt their family like this – like the way Nocte had done.
“I’ll try to visit you more,” Nocte promised, squeezing her tears back when she noted how cold her mother’s hand was.
“I don’t see why you can’t see me more often, hun,” Malise chided lightly. “We live in the same house.”
Nocte froze.
She tried to explain. “Měi Fèng sent me off to a rice farm, remember mom? Laurel Tree? Remember? I told you back in March.”
“Oh?” Malise scrunched her face as she tried to remember. “I think your father has mentioned something like that.”
And then everything crashed; Nocte nearly broke down.
Her mother was lost.
To everyone.
To her.
Swallowing bitter, bitter tears, Nocte forced a smile. “Y-Yeah, he did.”
Malise frowned. “Well, that new empress is sure keeping you two busy.”
Nocte nodded, not trusting her voice as she trembled. Her grip over her mother’s hand tightened and tightened. She didn’t want to let her go. How could she have had let her go before?
How could she have had let her beautiful, exuberant, wonderful mother fall so hard from so high?
She had failed as a daughter.
Malise yawned, so tired and broken that Nocte almost let out a sob.
“I should let you sleep, mom,” she said, and yet not wanting to leave.
“Mm…” her mother hummed, closing her eyes. “Good night, Nocte. And if you see your father, tell him to visit. I miss him…”
“O-Okay…” Nocte faltered, fearing for a moment her mother had stopped breathing, but when she gave an exhale, Nocte was relieved to see her just fine.
Planting a kiss on her mother’s forehead, Nocte gave her hand a squeeze before standing up from the bed and making for the door. She held her hands close to her heart, remembering the feel of her mother’s hand, and placed it deep in her memories. She didn’t know when her next visit might be.
She stepped out of the room and closed the door, leaning against the wood to plant herself solidly to the ground. Using her sleeve to wipe at the tears in her eyes, Nocte blinked and felt like the floor had opened up and swallowed her whole.
It was Occult, glaring at her with a hardened face.
For a 15-year-old, Occult had sunken eyes of a 50-year-old. Nocte could tell that her mother’s condition was straining for her little sister. With long black hair and straight bangs, Occult looked so dark with her black, lacy dress and that black ribbon in her hair.
“What are you doing here?” the psychic accused.
“I was visiting mom,” Nocte answered, inwardly shaking.
Occult hissed, eyes flashing viole(n)t, “You have no right to be here! Leave!”
It hurt, more than words could say, but Nocte could do nothing but relent.
Occult was right. Nocte had no right to be there.
“I said, LEAVE!” Occult shouted, pushing Nocte to the floor.
Nocte held onto the wall from the unexpected attack. She looked up to see Occult just as frayed as herself, tears in her eyes, red in the face, horrified yet justified. Nocte couldn’t blame her sister for pushing her. She had caused the family too much pain. Occult, especially, when the others had left their mother in her care.
“Just…” Occult breathed, turning her back to her sister. “Leave.”
Nocte struggled for breath and did as she was told.
She left.