The cold night air grazed her skin, her knees trembling with every step. Branches snapped beneath her feet as she bolted through the dense canopy of trees.
Above her, the moon glowed brighter than usual, its silver rays slicing through the darkness in scattered patches across the forest floor.
Seraph's eyes darted through the shadows, desperately scanning for somewhere—anywhere—to hide. Somewhere that could save her from the danger clawing at her heels.
Her grip tightened around the satchel as she ran, each step heavier than the last. She dared a glance over her shoulder, praying she'd lost them. The silence behind her gave her hope. She stopped, leaning against a tree, gasping for air.
"There she is… catch her!" a voice suddenly rang out, shattering the quiet.
"Shit!" she hissed, pushing herself off the tree and taking off again—breathless, hopeless, begging the gods for mercy. But fate had other plans. Her foot struck a rock hidden beneath the leaves, and she crashed face-first into the dirt.
Gritting her teeth, tasting earth, she forced herself up. She couldn't let them catch her. Not now. Not ever.
To the left, something caught her eye—a cave, partially obscured by moss and stone.
Hope sparked in her chest. Maybe luck hadn't abandoned her after all. She pushed forward, the damp soil clinging to her shoes, her heart hammering in her ears.
She slipped inside the cave, surrounded by shadows. The air inside was strangely warm—soothing compared to the chill outside. She reached out blindly. Her fingers brushed moist rock, the soft bristles of moss clinging to its surface. Pressing her back against the wall, she shut her eyes and whispered a silent prayer.
Footsteps approached. Too close.
One breath too loud, one misstep, and she'd be found.
She held her breath, her heart beating like a war drum against her ribs.
"Where is she?" the voice called again. It was him. She could feel his presence just beyond the entrance.
"I think she went that way," another answered.
"What about this cave? She could've hidden in here," the first voice pressed.
Her heart faltered. Please don't come in here. Please…
Just as he neared the entrance, a sharp clink of stone against metal echoed nearby.
"That way!" someone shouted.
Moments later, footsteps retreated, the voices growing distant.
Only one remained.
He hesitated.
She could feel him—his suspicion. The silence grew heavy as he stood just beyond the mouth of the cave.
Then, finally, he turned and followed the others.
Seraph didn't move until the last sound faded. Only then did she exhale. She crept out, silent as mist, and ran in the opposite direction.
Whatever—or whoever—had saved her, she was grateful.
After several miles, a familiar sight broke through the trees: a small cottage nestled deep in the woods. An exhausted smile tugged at her lips.
Finally… home.
Her legs trembled beneath her as she reached the rickety old door and pulled it open. Warmth wrapped around her like a memory. She bolted the door with care, then made her way deeper inside.
She pushed open the bedroom door.
There, beneath a heap of heavy blankets, lay her mother—frail, but breathing. Steady. Calm.
The bed sagged with age. The sheets were soft but faded. Window frames cracked from years of storms and neglect let in slivers of cold wind. Seraph moved to the wardrobe, pulling it open with effort, and grabbed a scrap of fabric.
Dust filled her nostrils, but she ignored it. She was used to it. She pinned the cloth over the window. Her mother relaxed instantly.
The floorboard creaked beneath her as she stepped closer to the bed. Her expression softened. She reached out, pressing a palm to her mother's forehead.
Normal temperature.
She sighed faintly in relief. Then leaned closer, gently tapping her.
"Mother… Mother…" she whispered, her voice steady despite the night's terror.
Her mother's eyelids fluttered. "Da…ugh…ter," she murmured, voice faint but warm with love.
Seraph took her hand, brushing a strand of hair back. "I brought your medication. You need to take it now." She reached into the satchel and pulled out a small vial of green liquid.
With practiced care, she propped her mother upright and tilted the vial to her lips. Eldina drank it all.
"How are you feeling, Mum?" Seraph asked softly.
Eldina opened her mouth, but a sudden gasp of pain cut her off. Her hand flew to her chest.
"Mother!" Seraph cried, grabbing her as foam formed at her lips.
"What… did you… give me…" Eldina rasped, eyes widening in agony.
Seraph froze, panic overtaking her. She grabbed the vial. It was the same one—wasn't it? She dumped the contents of her satchel onto the bed, frantically digging through the mess.
"Where is it?!" she cried, scattering items in desperation.
Her spellbook was gone. She must've dropped it during the chase.
Her gaze snapped back to her mother—now convulsing, her body jerking violently. Seraph wanted to scream. She wanted to cast something—anything—but Eldina was too weak. The sickness had drained her magic. She was powerless.
Seraph dropped to her knees, clutching her mother's trembling hand, kissing it through hot tears.
"You'll be fine… you'll be fine…" she whispered, again and again, like the words could shape reality.
She squeezed her eyes shut and begged the gods to change their minds, to take mercy. But they didn't.
"I love you…" Eldina breathed—and then her body went still.
The silence was deafening.
Seraph opened her swollen eyes. "Mother…" she choked out. Her chest ached. Her lungs refused to breathe. She reached up and touched her mother's face.
Cold.
No movement. No pulse.
"Mother…" she called again, louder now—but silence answered her.
She stood, trembling, and shook her mother's body.
"Mother!!! Mother!!" she cried, her voice cracking. Still, nothing.
"Wake up, Mum. Please—I beg you!"
Only the wind replied.
She was gone. And there was nothing—nothing—Seraph could do.
She stumbled back, collapsing into the chair behind her. Her fists clenched so tightly her nails drew blood.
She stared at her mother's still form. Memories flickered behind her eyes—the laughter, the long talks under the moonlight, the shared meals, the quiet love…
All gone.
She reached toward her mother again—but the door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall.
A gust of wind swept into the room, making the candle flames dance and the curtains twist wildly.
Seraph turned sharply.
Three women stepped inside, cloaked in a chilling aura of dominance. Smirks played on their lips like cruel secrets. Mockery hung heavy in the air.
One of them leapt forward and kicked Seraph hard, sending her crashing into the chair. Her spine cracked against the wood.
The woman's gaze slid to the bed, her expression twisted with mischief.
"Sorry. For your loss," she said with venomous sweetness.
Seraph rose, rage surging.
"What did you do to her?" she snarled, her voice filled with raw fury.
The woman—Caroline—laughed. The sound made Seraph's skin crawl.
"I just helped you take care of her, that's all."
Her words chilled Seraph to the bone.
Then she remembered—the old woman she had stolen the vial from.
Her eyes widened in horror. "That was you…?"
"One and only," Caroline said smugly, lifting her arms with mock grandeur.
Seraph lunged—but the other two women seized her, forcing her to her knees.
"How can you be so evil… she was your sister, Caroline!" she screamed, voice breaking.
Caroline stepped closer, her tone like poison. "Sister or not, she deserved to die…"
She leaned in, voice icy.
"…And so do you."
With that, she turned, her dress trailing behind her like a royal executioner.
"Bring her," she commanded.
The other two raised their wands. Shackles formed around Seraph's wrists and ankles, binding her tightly.
And just like that—they vanished, leaving Eldina's lifeless body behind…
To rot.