The vehicle roared beneath our feet as we left behind the imposing military headquarters. Velka, with that laughter of hers that always knew how to soften any blade, was taking pity on poor Nysha.

  —"That was tasteless, what Irhena did," she said, shaking her head. "The ‘mighty and terrifying’ scaring the little shadow girl… she’s got no shame."

  I chuckled softly. I didn’t know that girl, but the way she’d jumped like a startled cat had made me feel sorry for her.

  —"Who is she?" I asked, curious. "She looks so small, so… fragile."

  Neyra turned to me, that half-smile of hers never promising anything good.

  —"Her name’s Nysha Velm," she said. "They call her the goddess of fear. She might look harmless, but… she can summon the worst nightmares. That makes her a formidable magical girl."

  I swallowed hard, gazing out the window.

  —"So Irhena was trying to trigger her? Set her off?"

  —"Wouldn’t surprise me," Velka laughed, though her tone wasn’t just teasing. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she added, "Beast or not… I’d kill for hips like that."

  Laughter escaped me before I could stop it. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Caelia. Her gaze was cast downward, fingers clenching the folds of her long skirt. Her knuckles were white. She looked… distant. Like she’d gotten lost somewhere inside herself.

  —"You okay, Caelia?" I asked softly.

  She reacted as if waking from a dream.

  —"Yeah… I’m fine," she said quickly—too quickly. Her eyes didn’t meet mine. "Just nervous about the infiltration op. That’s all."

  But I knew then: that wasn’t it. It didn’t match the calm and composure that had always made her so strong. Something had happened in that meeting. Something she didn’t want—or couldn’t—tell me.

  The vehicle pulled up to our assigned apartments. Velka gave me a pat on the shoulder.

  —"Say goodbye to your place for a while," she said in a mock-heroic tone. "We’re going to war, Lyss."

  —"I know," I said, trying to smile.

  —"Where are you going?" Neyra asked, her voice full of mischief.

  —"Just… going for a walk," I said, trying to sound casual.

  But her eyes lit up with teasing delight.

  —"Don’t lie, Lyss. You’re going to see your man… your beloved… your sugar daddy," she teased, making me blush all the way to my scalp.

  —"Enough already!" I mumbled, but Velka gave me a playful nudge.

  —"Go on," she said with a knowing smile. "You won’t see him for a while. Make the most of it, Lyss."

  Caelia finally looked up, her gray eyes as serious as ever—but with something else beneath them, something quieter and heavier.

  —"Just be careful," she said softly. "You never know what’s coming."

  —"I know," I replied, though I wasn’t sure if she meant the war… or my heart.

  —"And you better tell us everything when you get back!" Neyra added, her laughter echoing down the hallway.

  I left them still talking, half-hearing Velka tell Neyra they already had plans to rearrange all my stuff—like big sisters playing house with their absent sibling’s life.

  Seravenn streets

  The mist cloaked the city like a soft veil, but my steps were firm. The air smelled of moisture and cold earth, and every streetlight glowing in the distance felt like a whisper of light in the fog. I didn’t stop. I wasn’t afraid.

  It was strange. I had always moved through darkness, always felt like my footsteps were filled with resentment and tightly coiled rage. But tonight felt different. There was something electric in the air, something pulling me forward with a quiet urgency I couldn’t ignore.

  I walked without seeing more than a few meters ahead, but I knew every step brought me closer to him. The mist didn’t scare me; I had learned not to fear what I couldn’t see. The only thing that mattered now was what I felt in my chest: a fire that didn’t burn, but guided.

  The echo of my boots on the pavement beat in rhythm with my pulse. Everything felt more… alive. The city whispered, breathing with me. Every shadow was a memory of who I had been, but tonight, none of them chased me. Tonight, I walked toward something that waited.

  Toward someone who waited.

  When I reached his door, I stopped. My hand hovered in the air, trembling slightly. It wasn’t nerves that held me back—more like anticipation. Like my whole body knew that the moment I rang the bell, there’d be no turning back. That every step tonight had led me here.

  The need to see him pulsed in my ribs. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. The cold air filled my lungs and reminded me I was still here—that I could still move. At last, I gathered what courage I had left and rang the doorbell.

  A few seconds later, the door opened. And there he was. Silas. His hair a bit tousled, his shirt half buttoned. His eyes widened in surprise, but I didn’t give him time to speak.

  — I threw myself into his arms. My forehead against his chest, my hands gripping his waist like I feared he’d vanish if I let go. His scent wrapped around me instantly—warm, a little like wood and ink, like a hidden corner of home I hadn’t known I needed.

  It calmed me. Softened everything I carried. In his arms, the weight inside me eased.

  Silas took a moment to react, but once he did, he held me tightly. I felt his head lower and press a kiss to the crown of mine, as gentle as a whisper.

  — Come in —he murmured—. Come on.

  We stepped into the living room, our hands still intertwined like the world itself couldn’t break them. We sat on the small sofa by the window, and for a while, we didn’t say anything. I just felt the warmth of his palm against mine, the way his fingers brushed mine softly, like a steady, silent comfort.

  — I missed you —I said finally, eyes cast downward. It was ridiculous, I knew. Only a few hours had passed since I’d seen him, but I felt it in every part of me.

  — I missed you too —he said, and his voice always made me tremble, just a little. His eyes shone, and the smile on his lips—the calm one—made me feel safe—. I didn’t think you’d come back so soon, honestly.

  I smiled too, though mine carried a quiet sadness.

  — I have to make the most of this evening… because tomorrow, at dawn, I’m being deployed to the northern front. And after that… Eiswacht. For an espionage mission.

  I saw his eyebrows knit together, a flicker of worry passing through his expression. But then he sighed, and his hand tightened around mine.

  — I’ve always known you were extraordinary —he said softly—. And even if I worry, I know this is your duty… and I could never ask you not to follow it.

  I stayed silent for a moment, searching for the words. Then I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around my back, warm and firm.

  — Silas… is it too much? —I murmured—. Dating a Magical Girl. A “goddess.” Everything that comes with it. The deployments, the way people see me out there… and how our love has to be secret, hidden. Isn’t it all too much for you?

  He bowed his head and brushed my hair with his lips. I felt his breath warm on my temple, and his voice was steady when he answered.

  — Maybe I never expected my partner to be… a living goddess —he said with a soft laugh—. But I also never expected to care so little about any of that.

  He pulled back slightly to meet my gaze. His fingers traced the edge of my cheek, barely touching me.

  — Because that’s not all you are, Lyss. To me, you’re not a symbol. Not a weapon. Not a goddess. You’re… human. You’re a woman. You’re you. And that’s what I love.

  I bit my lip, feeling the warmth rise in my cheeks. I let his fingers linger along my skin, and my hands found his, needing that anchor that reminded me of who I really was.

  And in that moment, as his breath mingled with mine, I realized—I didn’t need anything else.

  After talking for a while on the couch, Silas stood up and offered me his hand.

  — Come —he said with a soft smile—. I want to show you something in my studio.

  I followed him, our hands clasped once more. We entered the small room filled with papers, sketches, and the organized chaos that always smelled of ink and wood. He pointed to a chair beside the desk.

  — I want you to draw something —he said.

  I blinked at him.

  — Draw? Silas, I don’t know how to draw.

  — That’s not the point —he replied with a gentle laugh—. It’s not about how it looks… It’s about what you put on the page. I want to see what you see. What you feel.

  I hesitated, uncertain. But there was something in his voice—that warmth, that quiet reassurance—that made me nod. I picked up the pencil with trembling fingers and looked at the blank sheet.

  At first, I thought of him. Of his eyes, of how he looks at me and holds me when the world seems to collapse. But with every stroke, I felt something deeper pouring out of me. Something that burned, that weighed. As if the pencil wasn’t just my hand... but my heart itself.

  When I finished, I didn’t know what I had drawn. A mess of black and red lines, twisted and sharp. It looked like nothing... and at the same time, like everything. The resentment. The rage. Everything I am and everything I fear.

  I looked at him, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  — I don’t know what this is —I said in a low voice—. It just... came out. I’m sorry if it’s... too much.

  Silas took the drawing carefully. His eyes scanned it slowly, without looking away. Then he set it on the table with reverent care, as if he didn’t want to wrinkle even a single line. He looked at me directly.

  — Lyss... —he murmured—. You may see something dark here. The fire and the fury. But I see something else.

  I stepped closer, trembling a little.

  — What do you see?

  He smiled —that smile, so sad and so full of tenderness at the same time.

  — I see who you are —he said—. And that doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t drive me away. It just anchors me more to you.

  His hands found my face, his thumbs brushing my skin like a whisper. And in that instant, I understood I didn’t have to hide anything. Not the resentment, not the anger, not even the fear. Because he didn’t love me despite those things. He loved me with them.

  I couldn’t help it. After his words, after the way he looked at me with that mix of fire and gentleness, I kissed him. It was a kiss that made me tremble, one that burned and had nothing to do with the cold night or the city’s mist. My heart was pounding so fast it hurt, and my lips barely knew what to do. It was clumsy, inexperienced... but honest. Because it was the first time I’d felt something like this, something so big it threatened to shatter me from the inside.

  Silas wrapped his arms around my waist and, without breaking the kiss, lifted me to sit on the edge of the table. A few things fell to the floor with a dull thud, but I didn’t care. All I could feel was the heat of his hands on my skin, the weight of his body against mine, and how every touch made the rest of the world vanish.

  His kisses were both gentle and urgent, and his warm breath made me tremble even more. I slid my hands over his shirt, trembling slightly, but needing to feel him closer, to know he was real. One by one, I undid the buttons —carefully, but with growing desperation. When the fabric slipped off to the side, my hands found his back, his chest —and it felt like touching living marble. Every muscle, every line of his body was there for me. And it made me feel more alive than ever.

  I pulled away slightly to catch my breath. The silence that wrapped around us was dense, charged, as if our breathing were the only thing that existed in the world. I looked into his eyes. He gave me the faintest smile.

  Then I began to unbutton my own shirt. One button at a time, my fingers moved downward, and although I couldn’t tear my eyes from his, I felt my blood boiling beneath my skin. But as I reached the bottom, my mind stumbled over the memory of the scar that marked my body. Shame hit me all at once, and I raised my arms to hide it, pulling away from his kiss.

  Silas froze, surprised.

  — Did I do something wrong? —he asked, his voice a whisper full of warmth and care.

  I shook my head, swallowing hard.

  — No... —I murmured—. It’s just... this scar... I’m afraid it’ll make you see me as... less.

  He looked at me with a calm that unraveled me completely.

  — Can I see it? —he asked, with that voice of his that always felt like a shelter.

  I nodded, even though every part of me was trembling. I lowered my arms, letting the soft light of the studio reveal the scar that traced my skin —a reminder of what I had been, and what I still was.

  Silas said nothing. Instead, he leaned in and began to kiss the scar, from where it began to where it ended. His lips were warm, gentle, and each kiss felt like a promise. He kissed the marked skin with such tenderness that it drew a breath from me. Then he ran his tongue carefully along the line, as if he wanted to memorize every shape, every story my body carried.

  — Scars aren’t bad —he said finally, his forehead resting against mine—. They’re just memories, or stories... of the person who wears them. And I love everything you are, Lyss.

  Those words made me tremble —but not from fear. It was something deeper. Something that made me kiss him again, pouring my whole heart into it. Silas removed my shirt with a gentleness that made me smile, though I couldn’t stop trembling. I was left in just my upper underwear, and I felt his gaze slowly explore every part of me.

  He kissed my stomach, then moved up along my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones. He even placed a soft kiss where my breasts began —and it made me sigh, overwhelmed with warmth. I answered in kind, kissing his skin, feeling every heartbeat, every breath of his as if they were my own too.

  The connection grew, as if everything we were merged in that moment. And even though a part of me wanted to give in completely, I knew I couldn’t. Not yet. Not with dawn looming and duty calling my name. Outside, a solitary bird sang. A faint, premature call. The prelude to the morning.

  I pulled away, breathing hard.

  — Silas... —I said, my voice trembling—. I want to stay here with you, but... tomorrow morning I leave for the front. I can’t stay the whole night.

  He nodded, though I could see in his eyes that he understood. He held me against his chest, and his warmth wrapped around me like a shield.

  —It’s alright —he said—. Here, now… it’s enough.

  And in his arms, I knew that even if I couldn’t stay, I would always come back.

  Still breathless, I pushed myself up a little, resting my hands on the table to pull away slightly from his body. But he was so close… his bare torso still in front of me, the dim light outlining every curve and shadow. I couldn’t help myself —my fingers moved across his skin almost without thought, tracing it softly and tenderly, as if my touch could remember him better than my eyes.

  Silas looked at me with that calm that always made me feel so safe, and his hands found my skin too. They traveled down my back slowly, almost asking for permission, barely grazing the curve of my waist, suggesting what might come if I allowed it.

  I shivered. A part of me wanted to give in completely, to lose myself in his heat and his body. But… I couldn’t. Not tonight.

  —Silas… —I whispered, pressing my forehead to his—. If I let you keep going… I won’t be able to stop.

  He understood. I saw it in his eyes: the same desire, but also the same tenderness. With a sigh, he gently stepped back and picked up the shirts we had dropped. As he did, I noticed how his gaze lingered on my neck and shoulders… where his kisses had left marks. Small reminders, burning and sweet.

  —Are they very obvious? —Silas asked, his voice barely a thread, a bit embarrassed as he handed me my shirt.

  —You worry too much —I said with a soft smile, buttoning it up—. I’ll figure out a way to explain it.

  I chuckled softly, and as I dressed, I saw I’d left my own marks on his skin too. That… made me smile. As if somehow, we were two halves of the same story, marked by what we’d shared.

  We dressed quickly, but neither of us wanted to break the moment. We walked to the door together, still holding hands. When we reached it, Silas looked at me with a spark in his eyes that made me tremble.

  —Do you want me to walk you back? —he asked, his voice low, full of that warmth that always wrapped around me.

  I would have loved to say yes. But I knew it would be dangerous… that it was better to leave this love in the shadows, at least for now.

  —No. If someone sees us… it could be risky. Especially with these marks —I said, unable to keep from laughing a little.

  Silas laughed too, and then, with all the solemnity of a vow, said:

  —I’ll wait for you, Lyss. Right here. And when you come back… I’ll still be here. But please… be safe. Promise me you’ll return.

  I held his gaze and kissed his lips, soft and slow, like a promise.

  —I promise. I’ll be fine. And I’ll come back for you.

  I pulled away with a sigh that ached in my chest, but turned before I could change my mind. I stepped into the mist of the night, still feeling the warmth of his hands and the weight of his words.

  And as I disappeared into the fog, I knew that no matter how far the war called me, no matter how much distance stood between us… nothing could erase what we had just shared.

  When I returned to the complex, I could still feel Silas’s warmth on my skin and the echo of his words in my chest. But the moment I stepped in front of the elevator, I saw her: Velka. She was standing there, arms crossed, staring ahead as if I were invisible.

  I stood beside her, trying to get my breathing under control. The soft buzz in my legs and the faint heat on my neck still pulsed beneath my skin. The elevator arrived, and we rode up together. Silence stretched between us like a taut thread. Even the bland background music from the panels sounded unbearably loud.

  Suddenly, Velka let out a sigh and murmured with that voice of hers that always managed to rattle me:

  —So… did it hurt?

  I didn’t know what to say. Not because I was angry, but because the heat rushed to my face all at once. I just stayed quiet, staring at the elevator door as if it led to another world.

  When the doors opened, Velka grabbed my arm before I could react.

  —My apartment. Now —she said, with a tone so serious I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or panic.

  I tried to resist, but it was useless. Velka dragged me to her door, opened it, and gently pushed me inside. Caelia and Neyra were already there, speaking in low voices.

  Velka stood me in front of them like a trophy.

  —Look at what they did to your precious girl —she said, her tone swaying between mockery and solemnity—. All battered and bruised. I didn’t know my famed goddess of wrath was also a beast of lust.

  Neyra burst out laughing, doubling over as tears streamed down her face.

  —By all the veils, Velka! —she gasped—. I can’t with you!

  Caelia kept her composure, though I saw her lips twitch with a barely restrained smile. I was so red I felt like I might explode.

  Caelia stood up, her gaze gentle yet firm as she inspected my neck and shoulders.

  —As natural as it is for you to come back like this… your secret must be kept —she said—. These marks could betray you.

  —Velka —she added with a sigh—, heal them. We can’t risk anyone noticing… and I want Lyss to feel good about herself, not like she did something wrong.

  Velka nodded, focusing. As she worked, Caelia stepped aside and showed me something I had never seen before: a scar on her neck, so fine and precise it looked like part of a broken chain.

  —You don’t have to be ashamed, Lyss —she said, her voice softer than ever—. We all carry our marks.

  I stared at her, surprised, and something in my chest loosened. I didn’t feel quite so alone anymore. Velka, with a tired smile, added:

  —You’re going to have to tell me how you got that scar someday. I’ll remind you when the time comes.

  Caelia just nodded.

  —That moment isn’t now.

  Then she turned to Neyra, who was still chuckling.

  —Start getting everything ready for tomorrow. Data, strategy, anything that might help.

  Finally, she looked at me.

  —Tomorrow, you’ll be at total war, Lyss. Be ready. I want you all dressed and prepped by 0330 for mission review and one last round of training.

  Velka groaned theatrically.

  —It’s midnight, Caelia. Are you really only giving me three hours of sleep? And couldn’t you pick a gentler time? We’re ladies, not soldiers!

  Caelia raised an eyebrow at her.

  —You should’ve thought of that earlier, Velka. You’re the one who insisted on waiting for Lyss.

  Velka opened her mouth to reply, but found no words. With a defeated sigh, she said:

  —I surrender. I’m going to bed.

  —You should —Caelia said, with the faintest smile—. It’s not tomorrow. It’s in a few hours.

  I thanked her for what she said about the scar, and she returned a smile that made me feel seen, accepted. As I passed her, I felt a subtle gesture—her palm resting gently on my shoulder. She didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.

  I left the apartment and walked back to mine, still carrying the warmth of their hands on my skin and the echo of their voices in my ears.

  I closed the door behind me and stood in silence for a moment. I could still feel the tingling of Velka’s touch, Caelia’s gaze anchoring me, and Silas’s memory like a whisper that refused to fade.

  Everything that had happened tonight—with him, with them, with myself—felt like a whole life lived in miniature.

  I walked to the window, and the mist was still there, quiet and patient. I thought of the life I could’ve had… if I weren’t a Magical Girl. But it was just a thought, a soft flicker. I let it go with the fog.

  And just before I closed the curtains, I found myself thinking:

  I didn’t know how much it would hurt to leave him… until I was alone again.

  I went to my room, let myself fall into bed, and closed my eyes. Tomorrow would be another story.

  Or maybe… the real beginning of them all.

  Far from there...

  The Hall of the Veils was bathed in a bluish gloom, lit only by emotional crystals floating gently in the air, pulsing with a dim glow. The hooded figures of the Seven Veils stood aligned on either side of the obsidian table, their faces barely visible beneath ritual cloaks.

  The Queen Mother of Seravenn watched the holographic map projecting the attacks from the previous night. Her eyes, as cold as a blade, followed the red dots blinking over the military zones and industrial sites that had been devastated.

  It was Commander Elore Stryvann, the Fourth Veil, who broke the silence with a hard voice:

  —They didn’t target magical centers or training academies. Their objective was factories, supply depots… the backbone of our military force. Not our magic.

  —They aimed to break Seravenn’s spine —murmured Minister Sael Vynther, the Third Veil. Her voice was soft, but carried the sharpness of one who crafts and dismantles histories—. If the people see the nation’s strength falter, it will be harder to uphold the cult of our daughters.

  —It wasn’t just a military strike —added Doctor Cirelle Thaynn, the Fifth Veil, in her clinical, emotionless tone—. It was a message. A reminder that the war we believe we command… could swallow us whole.

  The Second Veil, Lady Daryenne Maelstrid, clenched her velvet gloves with a faint creak.

  —Project Aurora —she said—. That word emerged from the Eiswacht spy, and now we see it woven through every explosion. It may threaten the magical purity of our blood… a weapon that devours what we are.

  Ambassador Myra Haldenn, the Sixth Veil, did not speak. Only a subtle gesture from her spokesperson, a young man with a clear and steady voice:

  —Our informants confirm that Aurora is not just a weapon. It is… a promise of dominion. An experiment that could shift the balance of power across the continent.

  The Queen closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her gaze was tightly contained fire.

  —Whatever it may be —she said softly, though each word thundered in the chamber—, we cannot allow the heart of Seravenn to be this vulnerable again. Shadows of the Crown are tasked with unraveling Project Aurora… and, if necessary, destroying it.

  High Instructor Venesse Aerla, the Seventh Veil, bowed her head with almost reverent devotion.

  —Our daughters are more than sword and shield —Venesse said, her voice laced with maternal warmth—. They are heart, soul… and light. We must guide them, not just arm them. For duty without love also leaves scars.

  A heavy silence followed. Even the Queen, the symbol of serenity, seemed to tremble slightly—something only the Veils could sense.

  —If they fail… —began Sael Vynther, but the Queen cut her off with a firm gesture.

  —They will not fail —the Queen said, though her tense fingers on the table said otherwise—. We cannot afford it. If we fall, let it be with dignity… and let our wrath consume whoever dares to steal our heart.

  The Hall fell silent, as the emotional crystals continued to pulse—like a heart beating for the entire kingdom.