Chaos at the Estella Manor
The annex at the Estella Mansion lay in ruins, reduced to a skeletal frame of devastation. The flames had mostly been extinguished, but acrid smoke still lingered, refusing to dissipate. Gray wisps crawled from the charred debris, and damp ash scattered on the wind, drifting as far as the corridors. Servants clutching buckets screamed as they ran, while knights established a perimeter, carrying the wounded to safety.
Seridia watched it all, yet for a long while, she couldn't utter a word. The place where Ria had been. The spot where she'd entrusted the girl to Barden.
It was completely obliterated.
"Barden."
A cracked voice escaped her lips. The knight standing beside her bowed his head, unable to speak. Seridia's gaze pierced him.
"Where is Barden."
"...Lady Seridia."
The knight bit his lip. A suffocating silence hung heavy. Seridia shook her trembling head. No. It couldn't be.
"Barden took her out."
Only after spitting those words could she draw breath. "He said he'd take her somewhere safe. She wasn't inside the annex."
The knight remained silent. Seridia took a step forward.
"Search for her."
Her voice quickened. "Comb every inch around here. If there's an injured maid, or a silver-haired girl passed out somewhere—right now—"
"Lady Seridia."
Another knight approached from afar, his face grim. "Sir Barden... has been confirmed."
Seridia's feet halted. "Confirmed?"
Instead of answering, the knight stepped aside. A small stretcher draped in white cloth lay there. As Seridia stared, the knight carefully lifted the covering.
A hand charred black as coal. And on its finger, the signet ring—unmistakably Barden's, emblazoned with the Estella crest.
Barden was dead.
Then.
"The girl."
No one answered immediately. Seridia clutched at the stifling silence and asked again. "Her body."
The knight bowed his head. "...Nothing confirmed."
None. No body.
Then she might still...
A faint light flickered briefly in Seridia's eyes. Just then, knights dragged a man from the distance like a sack of refuse. His clothes half-burned, face smeared with blood. Each breath rasped from deep in his throat.
"We found one survivor inside the annex," the knight said lowly. "One of Sir Barden's men."
Seridia's gaze shifted to the man. He lifted his head. Black blood crusted his mouth, but he grinned like a madman.
"This was all Sir Barden's doing."
The surrounding knights froze. Seridia's eyes rippled like disturbed water. The man twisted his bloodied lips in mockery.
"He was always like that. Never dirtied his own hands with blood, always sending others to die without a second thought."
His gaze turned to the collapsed annex. "The plan was to deal with you and the young lady at the tomb, then we'd welcome a new master here."
"But the great man himself must've gotten confused about where the magic would detonate."
The man coughed up blood-tinged phlegm amid the ashes. "Thanks to him, we all burned clean."
Seridia's hand seized the man's collar. "Don't lie."
"Barden said he'd take her somewhere safe."
The man slowly met her eyes. "And you believed him?"
A venomous sneer carved into Seridia's heart. "Did that maid believe him too?"
Seridia's fingertips stiffened. "She was by Sir Barden's side until the very end. Even as the explosion swallowed everything."
Seridia shook her head violently, trembling. "How can I believe you? That Barden rebelled? Don't make me laugh."
Her desperate voice twisted the man's lips into a wretched grin. "Of course you don't want to believe it."
He coughed mockingly, expelling blood-flecked breath. "That Sir Barden orchestrated it all from the start."
"That you yourself... pushed that poor girl into the jaws of death."
Seridia's grip on his collar turned her knuckles bone-white. "...Shut up."
"Lady Seridia."
A soldier approached, pale-faced, holding a small, charred orb. Inside the half-shattered crystal fragment, viscous black magic clung like spiderwebs.
"Found in Sir Barden's quarters."
The family mage stifled a groan. "...Residue of black magic."
Seridia stared blankly at the fragment. The black energy writhed in her palm.
Somewhere safe. That's what Barden had said. He'd take the girl somewhere safe.
She'd believed him. Without a shred of doubt, she'd thrust the girl into peril with her own hands.
Seridia's hand slowly crumbled. Someone called her urgently. But she couldn't respond.
Ria.
Just hours ago, breathing by her side. Eyes that met hers squarely. A voice that trembled but never backed down. Hands awkwardly touching cropped hair. The warmth lingering on her fingertips.
The sensation of holding that girl—it all felt vividly etched into her palms still. As if turning around now, the girl would be looking up at her.
And yet, dead? Just moments ago? Why? Why?
Because I was too late again? Because I fell for Barden's silver tongue?
No. Seridia's breath grew ragged. She'd been late from the beginning. Every time the girl smiled, she'd seen only what she wanted to see.
The uncomfortable expressions. The swallowed words. The hesitant fingertips. They only surfaced in hindsight.
She hadn't cared for the girl. She'd merely projected her own desired illusions onto her.
Whether she was truly okay. What she really wanted. She hadn't asked, not even at the end.
Her throat clogged. It had been the same with Lucia. She'd realized only after everything ended.
The same with Elishia. She hadn't tried to see the child waiting for her.
And now Ria.
She'd thought this time would be different. That stepping out the door meant she could finally go back without being late.
But again. Late again. She was always late. Always opening the door after everything had burned to ash.
"Mother...?"
It sounded like Elishia's voice. No. She wasn't hearing it. She only saw lips moving.
Elishia's face, staring at her, had gone deathly pale. The sounds around her faded into the distance. The smell of smoke, the knights' shouts, the footsteps rushing toward her—all muffled like echoes underwater.
Seridia reached out. She needed to grasp something. But what? Ria's hand. Elishia's hand. Or the now-empty void.
Her vision tilted slowly. The last thing she saw was Elishia's face, desperately reaching for her.
Seridia collapsed without a sound.
For the first few days, only sobs echoed from Seridia's room. Whenever maids entered to clear glasses, the desk held empty bottles and damp handkerchiefs amid crumpled papers.
Papers scrawled with To Ria. Just that name, alone. I'm sorry. Stopped there. I want to apologize. Torn after that.
The maids cleared them silently. But not all. Seridia snatched a few back.
"Leave them."
Her hoarse voice sounded inhuman, words trailing off. The maids bowed and retreated.
Night after night, Seridia sought liquor. To sleep. Closing her eyes brought it all back: crumbling walls, black smoke, the girl's living warmth.
Unable to sleep, she drank. Thought drunkenness would bring slumber. But the more intoxicated, the sharper Ria's face became.
Cropped silver hair. Eyes staring straight at her. Trembling voice. Those eyes refused to fade.
Days blurred into unknowable time. Then one day, the crying stopped abruptly, like a lie.
At first, everyone sighed in relief. The head maid, the knights, Elishia. They believed the family head had finally accepted reality, gathering her grief.
Faint laughter sometimes drifted from the room. Not loud. A soft, tender chuckle slipping between breaths. The maids felt even greater relief.
With the sobs gone, the mansion's people could breathe a little easier. But strange rumors circulated too.
That the family head sometimes talked to someone. Yet whenever the door opened, only Seridia was inside.
Some said it was a mishearing. Maybe.
Afterward, Seridia began opening her door, venturing out. Save for reddened eyes, she seemed far calmer than before.
She nodded softly to passing maids, faintly smiling at knights' greetings. Someone whispered that before Lucia's passing, the family head had worn such an expression.
The mansion folk cautiously hoped she was truly recovering, bit by bit. Elishia firmly believed her mother had found her footing again.
Especially when Seridia smiled faintly at her.
She realized something was off that evening. For the first time in ages, Seridia invited Elishia to dinner.
The dining hall glowed under ornate chandeliers. The long table gleamed with spotless white linen, scents of fresh bread and warm soup wafting. Thin-sliced meat and fruit slices sat ready.
Elishia paused at the door. Three places were set. Mother's seat. Hers. And...
An empty one. Even before it, soup steamed and silverware waited neatly.
Elishia's gaze lingered there.
"You're here."
Seridia looked up. Her expression was serene, affectionate. "Sit, dear."
Her voice was gentle. Elishia sat slowly, fingers fidgeting on the cloth. Her eyes kept drifting to the empty seat.
"Mother."
"Yes."
"Is someone... else coming?"
Seridia gave an awkward, tiny smile. "I told you."
"There's a child I want to introduce you to."
Seridia's warm gaze turned to the empty seat. Nothing was there. Yet she gazed at it tenderly.
"This is Ria. Say hello."
Elishia's breath caught. Ria. The name snagged in her ears.
She tried to speak. But her lips only trembled; no voice came.
Seridia, as if it were nothing, gently pushed the plate inward. "Careful. It might still be hot."
Elishia watched, fists clenched. Steam rose from the empty seat's soup, but no spoon would touch it.
Yet Seridia selected the softest bread from the platter and placed it on the empty plate. "I prepared this thinking you'd like it."
She paused, as if listening. Then smiled faintly. "Not to your taste?"
"Right, then something else next time."
Elishia's throat stiffened. The meal proceeded quietly. Or pretended to.
Elishia lifted her spoon but barely ate. The soup cooled; her fingers grew cold.
Seridia noticed, speaking softly. "No appetite?"
"...A little."
"No need to force it."
She turned to the empty seat. "Same for you. Don't force yourself."
Elishia's lips quivered. She couldn't bear it anymore.
As she opened her mouth, Seridia spoke first. "Elishia."
"...Yes."
"If you allow it."
Seridia straightened the glass before the empty seat with careful fingertips. "I'd like to adopt this child."
Elishia's head snapped up. "Mother, that's—"
"Ah."
Seridia cut her off with a small laugh. "Do you remember that story?"
"The fairy tale I used to read you as a child."
"..."
"About the child trapped in a fairy's illusion."
Elishia held her breath. Seridia traced the glass rim.
"There, anything the child desired came true."
"Favorite foods, loved ones."
"Expensive toys, beautiful jewels."
Only Seridia's soft voice lingered in the hall. "But in the end, the child realizes it's all fake and returns to cold reality."
Seridia smiled faintly. "I always found that ending strange. Why return to the cold reality?"
Her affectionate gaze returned to the empty seat. "Even knowing it's fake."
"Doesn't make the happiness and love felt inside any less real."
Elishia said nothing. Seridia fell silent too. As if their exchange was merely a brief musing on a fairy tale's end, she lifted her spoon again.
"The food will get cold."
Her voice remained gentle. "Eat, Elishia."
"Take your time thinking about the adoption."
"I must've startled you."
Elishia couldn't lift her spoon. The candles flickered silently on the table.
Three place settings. Two people. One empty chair.
Only much later did Elishia rise. "...I'll retire first."
"Yes."
Seridia nodded. "Rest well."
Elishia left carefully. Just before closing the door, a low voice came from behind.
"I must've startled you."
Elishia's feet stopped. It wasn't said to her.
"It's okay."
Seridia's voice was still tender. "Elishia's a good child."
Silence followed, as if awaiting a reply. Then Seridia chuckled softly.
"Yes."
"I think so too."
Elishia couldn't turn. Through the door crack, the table still held three meals. Seridia smiled quietly at the empty seat.
Elishia stood in darkness, door locked, for a long time. The third plate under candlelight wouldn't fade from her mind. Ria. That name too.
From the moment it left her mother's lips, it lodged in her head, unshakeable.
Not a name she'd heard for the first time. Impossible to forget.
The black mage's tower. The dark room reeking of blood. Just before the explosion, the small girl turning back to her.
A voice saying there was a way.
Elishia bit her lip hard. It couldn't be. The maid in this mansion and that girl from then—impossible.
Yet her mother had clearly said it. Ria.
That night, Elishia couldn't sleep. At dawn, she summoned the maids.
"Tell me about the child by Mother's side. Everything. No hiding."
The maids exchanged glances, stammering. "Ria, you mean?"
The name again. Elishia nodded slowly. "Yes."
"A small girl, around thirteen."
"Rare silver hair that stood out. Pale, small face. Light eyes that stared intently."
Silver hair. Pale, small face. Light eyes. They began overlapping with the girl from the tower.
Elishia clenched her hands on her lap. "And I heard she came looking for me."
The maids' faces hardened. "Yes."
"Several times."
"Said she had something urgent for you."
"..."
"Claimed to know you."
The maid looked troubled, eyes downcast. "We didn't believe her. You were unwell... hard to relay."
"Thought it was a child's mistake."
The rest faded unheard. Knows me. Came multiple times. But she'd never met her. Sick. No one believed.
"Where was her room."
Elishia headed to the attic where Ria had stayed. It felt hollow yet strangely warm. Folded maid uniform, water glass on the table.
She approached the old vanity slowly. Between wooden comb teeth, a single strand of silvery hair gleamed like moonlight, precariously caught.
One strand. Elishia stared, then reached carefully.
The moment her fingertip touched—
Shh—
The hair crumbled. Faint light turned to blue mana particles, collapsing like a sandcastle, scattering into the air.
Elishia stared at her empty palm. What had been there vanished without trace.
Strange. A normal person's trace wouldn't dissolve like that. Scatter like mana upon touch, erased as if never there.
That girl had vanished traceless in an explosion before. Then reappeared, miraculously.
By Mother's side. Near her own.
There’s a way.
Ria's voice revived in memory. She hadn't believed then. Couldn't.
But if. Truly there was a way?
Elishia's heart pounded wildly. Fingertips cold, chest burning hot. Thirst surged with shallow breaths.
She didn't know what to call this feeling. Too desperate for fear. Too heavy for joy. Too twisted for hope.
Elishia touched her face unwittingly. Her lips curved up.
Not a smile. Not tears. A warped grin of ecstasy and obsession.
Realizing it, chills ran down her spine. But her hand didn't drop.
Ria.
She might be alive. No. Can't assume dead.
For Mother's sake, she couldn't sit idle. Couldn't leave her mother smiling at that empty seat.
That's what she thought. Had to think.
Yet her heart raced on.
Mother, you want to adopt that child.
Elishia clenched her fist slowly. Strangely, her cooling mind contrasted her racing heart.
I'll bring her back, Mother.
Like the day I lost Lucia's hand. I won't be stupid and lose her again.
This time, never again. Mother.