Varessa had finally succumbed to exhaustion, her body curled on Maria’s lap, her breath soft and steady despite the dried tear stains on her cheeks. Even in sleep, her face was tense, as though the grief of losing Varithra had burrowed deep into her very soul. Maria’s fingers glided through Varessa’s dark hair in slow, soothing strokes. It had been hours since Varessa first broke down, clinging to Maria and sobbing uncontrollably. Now, she looked fragile, vulnerable—so different from the strong, commanding woman Maria had always known.

  Maria’s mind wandered as she gazed down at Varessa. She had always wanted to see her happy, to see her smile. Varessa had saved her all those years ago, given her purpose, given her a sense of home. In turn, Maria had sworn to always stand by her side. But now, all she could see was the emptiness in Varessa’s eyes.

  Her thoughts shifted to Varithra. She had trained her personally, watched her grow, spent more time with her than even Varessa could with her duty as one of the member of order of the nyx keeping her away from her own daughter. She knew Varithra better than anyone, and she refused to believe she had fallen so easily. Not without a fight. Not without leaving a trace. If there was even the slimmest chance she was alive, Maria would seize it. If there was even the slightest hope of bringing her back, she would chase it to the ends of Abyssia itself.

  Carefully, Maria shifted Varessa’s head from her lap, placing her gently onto a pillow. She lingered for a moment, hesitating as her fingers brushed Varessa’s cheek, before pulling away and rising to her feet. Quietly, she slipped from the room and made her way to Varithra’s chambers.

  The room was untouched, as if frozen in time. The bed was neatly made, the shelves filled with books Varithra had never finished reading, and on the desk sat a half-written letter, never sent. Maria’s chest tightened. I’ll bring you home. She stepped forward, reaching for a garment draped over a chair—a tunic Varithra often wore. It still carried her scent, faint but distinct. Maria folded it carefully, stuffing it into a bag alongside rations of food and water.

  She returned to her own quarters, retrieving a quill and parchment. She needed to leave a message. Varessa would never forgive her if she disappeared without a word. But as Maria sat before the blank page, her hand hovered, hesitating.

  How do I even begin?

  Before she could put ink to paper, a soft knock came at her door.

  “Ria… are you there?”

  Varessa’s voice. Maria sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment before rising to open the door. Varessa stood in the dim corridor, still wrapped in the blanket she had draped over her shoulders earlier. Her eyes were red, swollen, but her expression was firm.

  Maria stiffened. “You should be resting.”

  Varessa ignored the remark and stepped closer, gripping the hem of Maria’s sleeve. “Why did you leave me? I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.”

  Maria swallowed hard, resisting the urge to pull Varessa into an embrace. Instead, she gently pried Varessa’s fingers from her sleeve and took a step back. “Ressa…I cant. I’m going to Abyssia.”

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  For a moment, there was silence. Then, confusion flashed across Varessa’s face. “Why? There’s still time before the first horn. Did the Order assign work for you to the war camp? I can speak to them—”

  Maria shook her head. “No. I’m not going to the camp. I’m going into the warzone. Directly.”

  Varessa’s breath hitched. “No!” She grabbed Maria’s arm, her grip tightening. “Why would you—at this hour, at that?!”

  Maria exhaled, knowing she couldn’t lie. “I’m going to find Varithra.”

  The words shattered whatever restraint Varessa had left. She clutched Maria’s arm with both hands, her entire body trembling. “Please,” she begged, her voice cracking. “Don’t go. I can’t lose you too. i just cant. I will be completely broken. Please…….stay.”

  Maria placed a hand over Varessa’s, squeezing gently. “I’ll come back. And I’ll bring her with me.”

  Varessa shook her head violently. “Then I’m coming with you.”

  “No,” Maria said firmly. “You’re an Order member. You’re not allowed on the battlefield.”

  “I don’t care about the Order!” Varessa shouted. “Maria, I only care about you and Varithra! You’re my priority—not them, not this war!”

  Maria let out a sad chuckle. “I don’t care about the Order either… but we’ll need their support for the ritual.”

  Varessa froze. Her lips parted as if to argue, but no words came. The ritual. Their plan. The promise they made all those years ago. Maria lifted her hand to Varessa’s face, cupping her cheek and forcing her to meet her gaze.

  “Do you remember our promise?”

  Varessa bit her lip, then nodded. How could she forget? It was the promise they made when Varithra was just a baby in her arms—a few months after her husband had died. The promise to end the war, to create a world where their child wouldn’t have to fight, where she could grow up without bloodshed.

  Maria smiled faintly. “Trust me.”

  Varessa’s resolve crumbled. Tears welled in her eyes, but before she could say something reckless, Maria closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against hers. It was brief, but enough to silence Varessa’s protests, enough to ground her. When Maria pulled away, she whispered, “Have faith. And don’t do anything stupid.”

  Varessa stood frozen, speechless, as Maria turned and left the room.

  The war camp was eerily quiet when Maria arrived. Most of the warriors were sleeping, saving their strength for tomorrow’s battle. The few guards patrolling barely paid her any attention—no one expected conflict after the second horn. It was easy to slip past them, making her way toward the battlefield unnoticed.

  Once she was far enough, Maria stopped and reached into her bag, pulling out a small glass bottle. Inside were bones and ashes—the remains of a creature that had once been a formidable tracker. She knelt and carefully poured the remains onto the ground, then lifted her hands. A deep purple aura surrounded her fingers as she channeled her magic, whispering an incantation under her breath.

  The bones stirred. Shadows coiled around them, forming the shape of a hound—its body translucent, its eyes glowing faintly. It stood before Maria, waiting.

  Animentes, blessing of Zareth. A power to bring any beings temporarily alive from their remains under the control of the caster. Maria was never good in combat with this blessing during her war days but her experience in war for countless years had teach her some trick, enough to defend herself at least.

  Maria pet the hound, it resisted at first, probably sulking that it wasn’t summoned enough. Well, Maria’s day as a warrior has come to an end when she became the strategic captain of the nyxaran forces. Her usual work will be discussing some technique or strategy for the war in the warcamp with the commander.

  She knelt and pressed Varithra’s tunic to its snout. “Find her.”

  The shadowy hound sniffed, then suddenly tensed. Without hesitation, it bolted forward, its form nearly vanishing into the darkness of Abyssia.

  Maria rose to her feet, her heart pounding.

  “Please hold on, Varithra,” she murmured. “I’m coming.”

  And with that, she disappeared into the war-torn night, chasing after the only hope she had left.