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10. [PAST] The Truth

  The night was eerily quiet as Elysia stormed out of her house, the door creaking on its hinges behind her. The biting air stung her cheeks, but her thoughts were far too loud for her to feel the chill. Her mother's words echoed in her mind, cutting deeper than she expected. She wasn’t just frustrated—she was lost, trapped in a labyrinth of questions and expectations. Her mother wanted her to stay. The world demanded she follow the ritual. But Elysia wanted neither.

  As her boots crunched against the frost-bitten path, her feet carried her instinctively to the only place that might have answers. The Virtis.

  The Virtis lived on the outskirts of the mand, in a shadowed castle that loomed like a forgotten specter against the night sky. Its jagged towers seemed to pierce the stars themselves, and the soft, otherworldly glow of purple lights spilled out from its windows, painting the surrounding trees in an eerie hue. The closer Elysia got, the heavier her chest felt. By the time she reached the massive gate, her palms were clammy, and her legs felt like stone.

  She hesitated, her knuckles hovering over the door. "I can do this," she whispered to herself, the words trembling as much as her body. Finally, she knocked. The sound echoed like a hollow drumbeat through the night.

  The door creaked open slowly, revealing a figure cloaked in deep purple. The thick hood obscured their face, making it seem like a void stared back at her. The silence between them stretched uncomfortably long before Elysia managed to stammer, "Vi...Virtis. I...I apologize for coming so late."

  The figure remained still, their shadowed gaze boring into her. Elysia’s breath hitched as she instinctively took a step back, the weight of the Virtis’s presence pressing against her like a storm. Then, without a word, the figure stepped aside, leaving the door open just enough for Elysia to enter. The invitation—or was it a challenge?—hung in the air.

  Swallowing her fear, Elysia stepped inside. The interior was unlike anything she had ever seen. The walls glimmered faintly with runic symbols, shifting and twisting like living ink. Shelves lined with books bound in metal, ancient artifacts, and glowing orbs filled the cavernous hall. The air buzzed faintly, as if the castle itself were alive and watching her.

  The interior was bathed in the same purple glow, casting long, wavering shadows on the walls. The air was thick with an unidentifiable scent—something ancient and metallic. Shelves lined with peculiar objects loomed in the corners, their shapes indiscernible. Books with metal covers sat stacked on tables, their spines etched with runes that seemed to shift when glanced at.

  Elysia shuddered. This wasn’t a home; it was a domain.

  "Th-thank you..." she murmured, her voice faltering.

  The Virtis who had opened the door disappeared into one of the many shadowy rooms without a word, leaving Elysia alone in the vast central hall. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint hum of the glowing lights. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling very small and very foolish.

  Before she could second-guess her decision further, a faint sound—like fabric rustling in the wind—caught her attention. Her breath hitched as she looked up. Descending from the shadowed ceiling, hovering as though gravity had no claim on her, was the head Virtis. Her form was regal, her dark cloak trailing behind her like liquid night, and the air around her seemed to hum with an unseen force.

  Elysia's knees nearly buckled, but she forced herself to stand, bowing her head in an automatic gesture of respect.

  "I... apologize, Virtis, for disturbing you this late," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of her nerves.

  The head Virtis did not reply immediately. Instead, she began to circle Elysia, her movements slow and deliberate, her bare feet soundless on the stone floor. Elysia felt the weight of the Virtis’ gaze, though her face was still obscured by her hood. Each step seemed to stretch the silence, amplifying the pounding of Elysia's heart.

  Finally, the head Virtis stopped in front of her. When she spoke, her voice was calm but carried a gravity that seemed to fill the room.

  "Elysia Ogijya."

  Elysia flinched. Hearing her name in that voice was like being struck by lightning. She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Y...yes. Aiaris Ogijya's Aul."

  "I know who you are," the Virtis said, her tone unchanging. "A Light-blessed fairy, born to a bringer. A rare occurrence in your mand."

  Elysia's mind raced. How did the Virtis know so much about her? Was it her duty to know everyone in the mand? Or was there something more sinister at play? Doubts and regrets clawed at her resolve, but she stood her ground, even as her legs threatened to betray her.

  "H-how do you know me?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

  The head Virtis paused. Then, with deliberate slowness, she reached up and pushed back her hood.

  Elysia’s breath caught in her throat. None in the mand had ever seen the face of a Virtis—not during the rituals, not during their rare appearances. The face before her was both beautiful and otherworldly, with sharp, angular features and skin that shimmered faintly, as if dusted with stars. Her eyes glowed with the same eerie purple light that filled the castle, and her expression was unreadable, a mask of power and mystery.

  "I know you," the Virtis said, her voice softer now but no less commanding, "because I am a Virtis. And the Virtis see all."

  Elysia stood frozen as the Head Virtis settled into her grand chair, the fabric of her dark purple tunic pooling around her like liquid shadow. The silence in the castle pressed against Elysia’s ears, heavy and suffocating. The air itself felt different here—thick, charged, waiting.

  The Virtis tilted her head slightly, her glowing eyes unwavering. “You look scared, my child. Don’t be. Sit.”

  Elysia’s throat tightened, her voice resisting every attempt to come out. She swallowed hard, shaking her head weakly.

  “N-nn-no. Thank you. I… I just came here—”

  The Head Virtis leaned forward, cutting through her hesitation with a voice as cold as the stone walls. “To seek answers. I know.”

  Elysia flinched.

  “I… I want to go to Valfala.”

  A slow, deliberate hum escaped the Virtis as she studied Elysia. “Hmmm… I see. You want to see Valfala, don’t you?”

  Something about the way she said it sent a ripple of unease through Elysia’s spine.

  And then it broke out of her, raw and desperate:

  “I want to know what’s there that makes every fairy of our mand so eager to die. Why? What’s there that makes them walk into the flames with a smile?”

  The Head Virtis stood.

  Elysia stiffened as the woman began to approach her, each step slow, deliberate. The floor beneath her feet didn’t creak, didn’t make a sound—it was as if she was gliding.

  Then she lifted a single hand, swirled her finger in the air—and the world around them shifted.

  A wave of light rippled outward from the Virtis’ motion, swallowing the eerie, shadowed hall in a blinding radiance. The heavy, ancient walls of the castle dissolved. The air became fragrant with an intoxicating sweetness. The purple glow of the castle’s lamps melted into warm, golden hues.

  Elysia gasped.

  She turned sharply, her breath catching at the sight before her.

  They were no longer in the castle.

  They stood in an endless expanse of pure white light, a realm so beautiful, so serene that it seemed to hum with divinity itself. In the distance, towering structures of shimmering crystal gleamed under an eternal sky of gold and silver. The air pulsed with warmth, and the scent of blooming flowers filled her lungs, though she could see none. There was no weight, no fear—just endless tranquility.

  The Head Virtis extended her arms.

  “This,” she said, her voice velvety smooth, “is Valfala. The paradise where our Phinix resides. The end destination of our journey. The place where the Light returns. Now you see, my child… this is why they are willing to walk into the flames.”

  Elysia spun, taking in the breathtaking scene, her heart pounding.

  “This is beautiful,” she whispered in awe. “This… this is incredible.”

  A place like this—if it was real—then maybe…

  But then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

  The light fractured, the warmth vanished, and in the span of a breath, the cold, dark castle swallowed them once again.

  Elysia staggered back, the shock of the transition leaving her disoriented. The air returned to its unnatural stillness, the metal-covered books once again sitting in their eerie glow, and the shadows in the corners watching like silent spectators.

  Her skin prickled.

  She turned sharply toward the Head Virtis, her mind catching up, the wonder melting into something else.

  Suspicion.

  Her breath came unevenly.

  “How…” she hesitated, struggling to voice the realization that clawed at her chest. “How did you do that? It felt real. It looked real.”

  The Head Virtis said nothing.

  She only watched.

  And that was when Elysia’s heart started to race.

  She had seen something real.

  But it wasn’t Valfala.

  It wasn’t paradise.

  It was an illusion.

  A trick.

  The truth hit her like ice-cold water, her eyes widening.

  Elysia took a step back, horror creeping into her voice. “Wait…” Her breath hitched. “That—that wasn’t real, was it?”

  The Head Virtis didn’t answer.

  Instead, she took a slow, measured step forward, her glowing gaze locked onto Elysia’s like a predator watching its prey.

  Elysia staggered back again.

  “You… You created that,” she said, her voice growing shaky, her mind spinning with the implications. “That wasn’t real. Valfala isn’t real.”

  Still, the Head Virtis said nothing.

  But she smiled.

  And it was the most terrifying thing Elysia had ever seen.

  Elysia’s breathing quickened as realization crashed over her like a tidal wave.

  “There’s no Valfala,” she whispered, the words tasting like betrayal on her tongue. “It’s… it’s all a lie.”

  The Head Virtis took another step forward.

  “No.” Her voice was as cold as the night outside. “You are right.”

  The words felt like a dagger in Elysia’s chest.

  The world spun.

  The floor beneath her feet felt unsteady, as if she had stepped onto thin ice, and below her was a truth too dark to comprehend.

  The sacrifices. The songs. The joy. The flames.

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  All of it.

  A lie.

  Her stomach twisted violently, her knees threatening to buckle.

  And then, beneath the crushing weight of revelation, another thought surfaced—one far more terrifying.

  If she knew now…

  If the Virtis had let her see…

  Then what happened next?

  The Head Virtis watched her carefully, her eyes flickering with unreadable intent.

  Elysia’s blood ran cold.

  She wasn’t supposed to know.

  And now, she was trapped.

  Elysia stood paralyzed, her breath shallow, her heartbeat deafening in her ears. The truth she had so desperately sought was now unraveling before her, and it was nothing like she had imagined. It was cruel. Twisted. A nightmare disguised as a sacred path.

  She was never meant to know.

  And now, she would never leave.

  The Head Virtis smiled, her dark lips curling like a serpent coiled and ready to strike. The glow of the purple torches cast long, flickering shadows across her face, making her eyes gleam with a sick, eerie delight.

  “The life itself is a false reality, my child.” Her voice was soft, almost soothing, as if she were telling Elysia a bedtime story. “One day, you were just a happy little thing, playing with your mother, learning to sew. And the next… you decided to seek the truth.”

  She took a slow step closer, her presence suffocating.

  “But tell me, child… what is truth? What is reality?” She leaned down, her face inches from Elysia’s, her breath impossibly cold. “There is none. Even reality itself… is just another illusion.”

  Elysia’s knees nearly buckled. “P-please,” she stammered, her voice cracking. “Don’t kill me. I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

  The Head Virtis chuckled, and with a flick of her wrist, a swirling mass of raw, crackling purple energy coiled around her fingers like living tendrils. It pulsed, radiating power—power unlike anything Elysia had ever seen before.

  “Oh, Elysia.” Her tone was almost pitying. “You are a Light-blessed one. Did you know that?”

  Elysia swallowed hard, her body trembling.

  “And not just you,” the Virtis continued, examining the raw energy in her palm with fascination. “There are many Light-blessed fairies in your mand. Each one brimming with untapped potential.”

  She chuckled, the sound both velvety and venomous.

  “And yet… none of you ever even tried to use the power you carried within you. Never tried to feel it. To command it. To bend reality itself.”

  Elysia’s mind reeled.

  Light? Power? Had something always been inside her? Inside all of them? Why had no one told them?

  The Head Virtis tilted her head, watching Elysia's expression shift. “Yes,” she murmured, her voice teasing, “I see that look in your eyes. You’re beginning to understand, aren’t you? That the very thing which makes you who you are—your precious Light—has been wasted on you.”

  Her expression darkened.

  “Which is why we take it.”

  Elysia’s breath hitched.

  She finally understood.

  They weren’t just guiding the mand. They weren’t protectors of sacred traditions.

  They were stealing the Lights.

  “Why?” Elysia choked out, her hands trembling. “Why are you doing this? What do you gain from controlling us?”

  The Head Virtis smiled like a satisfied predator. “You do ask questions, after all. But, poor child…” She exhaled dramatically. “This will be the last question you ever ask.”

  She turned away briefly, pacing leisurely, her presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier.

  “You know of Light, don’t you?” she mused, running her fingers through the air as if painting something invisible. “The force that makes us fairies. The essence that defines our existence.”

  She turned back to Elysia, her eyes glowing brighter.

  “But you have only been allowed to know what you needed to believe.”

  Elysia’s throat tightened as the words seeped into her mind like poison.

  “That a fairy has only one Light. That Light cannot be created, nor transferred. That it is divine and untouchable.”

  A slow, eerie chuckle escaped her lips.

  “All of it—WRONG.”

  The word echoed in the vast, empty hall like the crack of a whip.

  Elysia shook her head, her mind screaming in denial.

  “No…” she whispered.

  The Head Virtis took a sharp step toward her, her dark cloak billowing unnaturally.

  “With a Light, one can become a Phinix.”

  Elysia’s eyes widened in horror.

  “And once a Light is corrupted, it can be controlled. Shaped. Molded to obey the will of its master.”

  The purple energy in her hands crackled violently.

  “This is why you have power, Elysia. This is why some of you are Light-blessed while others are Light-bringers. But what you never realized… is that you were all nothing more than a resource to be harvested.”

  Elysia’s body went cold.

  Her stomach twisted violently, bile rising in her throat.

  The rituals. The sacrifices. The burning.

  All of it.

  Not for Valfala.

  Not for some divine paradise.

  It was for her.

  For the Virtis.

  For power.

  The Head Virtis exhaled sharply, her lips curling into something sinister. “All these years, you fools offered your Light in the name of Valfala.” She spread her arms wide. “And every single time, those Lights came to me.”

  She slammed her hands together.

  A gust of power surged through the room, making the walls tremble.

  “IT WAS ALWAYS FOR ME.”

  Elysia stumbled backward, her breath ragged.

  Her wide eyes darted toward the door.

  She had to get out.

  Now.

  “You…” her voice trembled, barely above a whisper. “You’re a murderer.”

  The Head Virtis tilted her head, amused. “Murderer?” she echoed, placing a delicate hand on her chest as if insulted.

  Then she smiled.

  A slow, wicked, knowing smile.

  “Oh, my child… What else do you think gods are?”

  Elysia’s blood ran cold.

  She turned sharply, her gaze locking onto the door.

  A way out.

  But the moment she took a step back—

  “Ah, ah, ah.”

  The Head Virtis raised a hand.

  The air around Elysia thickened instantly, pressing against her body like an invisible weight. She gasped, feeling the force grip her limbs, freezing her in place.

  “You weren’t thinking of leaving, were you?” The Virtis whispered mockingly.

  Elysia’s heart pounded. She struggled against the unseen force, her lungs heaving, her body refusing to move.

  She was trapped.

  The Head Virtis smirked, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her.

  “You’ve learned too much, little one.”

  Her fingers curled—

  And the purple energy around them flared—

  “I think I’ll be taking your Light now.”

  Elysia screamed.

  Elysia’s eyes fluttered open to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the thatched roof. Her body ached, exhaustion still clinging to her limbs from the previous night’s terror. But before she could process her thoughts, the first thing she saw was her mother.

  Aiaris sat beside her, watching her with the quiet relief only a mother could hold.

  The moment their eyes met, Aiaris smiled. A small, genuine smile—not of scolding, not of frustration, just relief.

  “Thank the stars, you are okay.”

  Elysia sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her face. She tried to smile back, but it faltered. Her expression shifted to something heavier—guilt, sorrow.

  “I’m sorry, Mum. I shouldn’t have—”

  Aiaris raised a hand, cutting her off gently. “Later.”

  She stood, stretching slightly before turning toward the door. “Go and make yourself clean. I’m making us Vahi.”

  And then she left the room.

  Elysia blinked after her, confused.

  No scolding. No anger. No lecture about responsibility or the dangers of running from home. Just... Vahi.

  She should be furious with her. Should be threatening to punish her.

  But she wasn’t.

  And somehow, that made Elysia feel worse.

  The table was set with two cups of steaming Vahi, the earthy aroma filling the small room. Aiaris took her usual seat, her movements calm, unhurried. Elysia sat across from her, staring at the cup in her hands, the heat seeping into her fingers.

  Neither of them spoke.

  The silence was thick, heavy—like the one from last night before she ran away. Aiaris wasn’t looking at her like she always did. No watchful glances. No amused sighs.

  And Elysia couldn't take it anymore.

  “Mum...” she finally said, her voice quiet. “I... I’m sorry. I really am.”

  Aiaris didn’t reply at first. She took a slow sip of her Vahi, her expression unreadable.

  Elysia swallowed. “I won’t do it again. I promise. Please... forgive me.”

  Aiaris exhaled softly, setting her cup down. Then, she spoke.

  “One day, you were playing with Rya.”

  Elysia blinked, caught off guard by the sudden recollection.

  Aiaris continued. “You two got into a fight over a simple question—‘What is outside our realm, Mirgeth?’ Rya said there was nothing. Just our realm, nothing more. But you...” she chuckled slightly, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t accept that answer. You said you couldn’t believe something until you saw it yourself.”

  Elysia furrowed her brows, trying to recall the same memory.

  Aiaris smiled faintly, looking down at her cup. “It was such a small thing. It didn’t even matter. To the rest of us, it never mattered what was outside and what wasn’t. But you… you were never at peace with simple beliefs.”

  Elysia’s stomach twisted. She lowered her gaze, feeling the weight of her mother’s words.

  “Mum, I really am sorry for what I did—”

  “No,” Aiaris interrupted gently. “I understand now.”

  She leaned back slightly. “You can’t live like the rest of us.”

  Elysia’s breath hitched.

  “But I think,” Aiaris continued, her voice softer, “that you learned your lesson last night.” She looked at Elysia carefully. “When I saw you... how scared you were. How you ran straight into my arms, crying. I realized… now you know that it’s easier to live with beliefs without questioning them.”

  Elysia’s hands curled into fists under the table.

  She looked down at her plate, nodding slowly. “I... I get it. And I promise I won’t do it again.”

  Aiaris smiled slightly. “Don’t make promises to change yourself, Ely. You’re already changed.”

  Elysia hesitated, feeling her mother’s careful gaze on her.

  “The scared look is still on your face,” Aiaris said quietly. “It tells me that something bad happened to you.”

  Elysia stiffened.

  For a moment, she wanted to tell her.

  She wanted to say everything.

  That she had gone to the Virtis to be sent to Valfala. That she saw the illusion they created. That she knew the truth now—knew that all the sacrifices, all the rituals, were a lie.

  But she couldn’t.

  Even if she told Aiaris, she wouldn’t believe her.

  She would think it was another one of Elysia’s refusals to accept the faith.

  She would look at her with pity.

  So instead—she lied.

  “I... I got lost,” she said, forcing a small, nervous laugh. “I got all alone in the dark, and I got scared.”

  She stuttered, pretending to fumble over her words, playing the part of the frightened, naive girl. “I... I ruined everything.”

  Aiaris sighed, reaching across the table to place a gentle hand on Elysia’s shoulder.

  She said nothing.

  But the warmth in her touch was enough.

  Elysia clenched her jaw, her mind screaming at her.

  She had to lie.

  She had to pretend.

  She couldn’t let her mother—or anyone—know the truth.

  Because if she did...

  She would end up in the flames, too.

  Elysia glanced at Aiaris again.

  Her mother should be angry. Should be scolding her. But she wasn’t.

  Instead, she simply shook her head with a sigh. “You’re not angry?” Elysia asked, barely above a whisper.

  Aiaris chuckled softly. “No.”

  Elysia blinked, surprised.

  Her mother gave her a knowing smile. “But you scared me to death.”

  Without thinking, Elysia blurted out, “Sorry, Mum. I really am. It was a mistake.”

  Aiaris chuckled again. “I know.”

  She reached out and lightly flicked Elysia’s forehead. “But don’t do it again. This time, if you run away... I won’t come looking for you.”

  She said it with a teasing smile, but there was something serious beneath her words.

  Elysia laughed weakly, before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around her mother.

  Aiaris hugged her back, resting her chin on her daughter’s head.

  For a moment, Elysia let herself melt into the warmth, the comfort, the safety.

  But in the back of her mind...

  The truth still burned.

  She made her decision.

  She would take revenge.

  Not today.

  Not tomorrow.

  But one day.

  The Virtis had taken everything from her people.

  And she would make sure they paid for it.

  Even if it killed her.

  Days passed, and Elysia played her part well. She no longer questioned the beliefs of the mand, nor did she voice her doubts. To the others, she had finally accepted the way of things. But deep inside, she saw the truth—the rituals, the faith, the songs of devotion—all of it was a beautifully woven deception, a cage of obedience built by the Virtis.

  She helped her mother with the sewing, laughing and smiling as they worked, living a peaceful life. But at night, when the mand was quiet, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts racing.

  Another ritual would come. Another fairy would be burned in the false name of Valfala.

  This time, she knew.

  And this time, she couldn’t watch it happen.

  That afternoon, she sat beside her mother, carefully threading a golden pattern into a deep purple tunic. Her fingers worked, but her mind was far away.

  Aiaris, who had long since mastered the art of reading her daughter, smirked slightly.

  “They say when you run your mind too much, it gets away from you.”

  Elysia blinked out of her trance and chuckled at her mother’s sarcasm.

  “And if you don’t run it at all, it turns into goo.” She countered.

  Aiaris put a hand on her chest, feigning offense. “Oh! A counterattack? My little Aul grows bolder by the day.”

  Elysia laughed softly. But as silence settled between them, Aiaris glanced at her daughter, knowing full well that something deeper weighed on her.

  “So,” Aiaris said after a moment, keeping her voice light, “what’s on your mind now?”

  Elysia hesitated. She placed the tunic aside and took a breath. “Nothing. I was just… thinking about how we could expand our little business.”

  Aiaris arched a brow. “You know, Ely, this isn’t a business. We do this because we’re skilled in it. It’s our work—sewing tunics on order for the fairies of our mand.”

  “And we take whatever they give us in return,” Elysia added knowingly.

  “Right.” Aiaris nodded. Then, with a knowing look, she set her sewing down. “So tell me what you were really thinking.”

  Elysia swallowed, gathering her thoughts.

  She slowly knelt beside her mother, placing a gentle hand on her arm, making sure she had all of her attention.

  She hesitated.

  “I can’t do this for the rest of my life.”

  Aiaris’ expression remained unreadable.

  Elysia continued, her voice soft but firm. “I want to help you. I love sewing with you. But… I—”

  “You want to study,” Aiaris finished for her.

  Elysia’s eyes widened slightly. “You… how did you—”

  Aiaris gave her a small, knowing smile. “Rya told me. She said you want to go to Uth and study Light.”

  Elysia exhaled, caught between relief and surprise. “You knew all this time?”

  “Yes.”

  Aiaris didn’t say more.

  Elysia hesitated before finally asking the question she had been afraid to voice.

  “So… can I go?”

  Aiaris’ hands stilled. Her jaw tightened ever so slightly.

  For a moment, Elysia thought she would say no.

  Then, with a voice heavier than Elysia had ever heard before, Aiaris whispered—

  “Yes.”

  Elysia’s heart leaped. She beamed at first, but the excitement faltered when she noticed the way her mother’s hands trembled slightly, the way she swallowed hard, holding back emotion.

  She knew this wasn’t easy for her.

  “Oh, Mum!” Elysia hugged her tightly. “Come on, don’t cry. If you don’t want me to go, I won’t.”

  Aiaris let out a soft laugh, brushing her fingers through Elysia’s hair. “No, it’s not that. I want you to go. I want you to learn, to see the world beyond this mand. It’s just…”

  She exhaled shakily.

  “I have to learn to live without my only charmer.”

  Elysia felt her own eyes sting.

  “And I have to learn to live without my only scolding and precious mum.”

  They both laughed, and Aiaris pulled her into a tight embrace.

  For now, they held onto each other.

  But in Elysia’s heart, she knew—

  This was just the beginning.

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