The teleportation circle flared around Lara's boots, golden and yellow fire entwining like celestial threads with demonic pulse.
Aliyah, still nestled in her arms, hummed contentedly as if they were arriving at a pastry shop instead of the most uptight palace in the known realms.
They landed in the inner court of the Celestial stronghold—an immaculate garden of crystalline flowers, luminous marble, and suspiciously clean air.
No sooner had Lara's boots touched the polished stone than a ripple of gasps echoed from a nearby procession of robed attendants.
One Celestial woman shrieked and dropped her scrolls. Another staggered back as if scorched by Aliyah's sheer presence. A young acolyte yelped and ran into a hedge.
Aliyah squinted at them. "Is it me, or are they even jumpier than last time?"
"It's you," Lara muttered, sighing as two more servants scattered like pigeons. "Definitely you."
Aliyah grinned like she'd won something.
They didn't bother to announce themselves at this point, Lara figured their arrival was loud enough.
A few minutes of walking through too-clean halls, under hovering lanterns and murals of pale saints with judgmental faces, and they finally reached the northern wing.
The private wing. Sarisa's wing.
And there she stood.
Tall, motionless, carved in grace and light.
Sarisa.
Her moonlight hair was unbound, flowing like silver rain down her back. Golden tattoos shimmered faintly along her arms, curling like constellations—old runes, ancient Celestial marks that glowed with inner power.
The sheer sleeves of her robe caught the light, drifting like mist, but it was her eyes that hit Lara the hardest.
One silver.
One a piercing aqua, too sharp, too knowing.
Gods, those eyes.
Sarisa's gaze swept over them, lingering on the soot marks on Aliyah's cheeks, the rumpled tunic, and Lara's slightly scorched jacket. Her brow lifted a fraction of an inch.
Aliyah made a small, brave wave. "Hi, Mommy ."
"You skipped your entire curriculum today," Sarisa said, voice calm as ever—but with an undertone that made the air colder.
Lara cleared her throat. "Technically, she teleported out of it."
"Which makes it worse."
Aliyah squirmed in Lara's arms. "I already know how to read Ancient Celestial. Mostly."
Sarisa's eyes narrowed. "You set your tutor's sleeves on fire."
"He insulted my drawings."
Lara coughed to hide a laugh.
Serisa folded her arms, gold tattoos glinting. "We talked about this, Aliyah. If you want to draw infernal dragons eating the Moon Palace, you may do so in your sketchbook. Not on the walls of the sacred corridor."
"It was blank!" Aliyah protested. "It was begging for a mural!"
Serisa turned her cool gaze toward Lara. "And where, pray tell, were you during this?"
"Tracking two fugitives." Lara raised an eyebrow. "Successfully, I might add."
Sarisa arched one elegant brow. "Did you also bring your daughter as a sidekick?"
"She brought herself."
Aliyah snorted. "Teleportation is easy when you've got brains."
"Aliyah," Sarisa said sharply. "That's enough."
Lara winced. Not because of the words, but because of the tone—sharp, clipped, no-nonsense.
It wasn't the Sarisa she remembered from those early days—back when things had felt light, when the three of them had shared makeshift meals at Malvoria's half-burnt dining table, when bedtime stories and wine had come with laughter, not schedules and court decrees.
Sarisa had always been strong. But now, she was strict. Poised. Wound tight like a blade waiting to strike decorum into the world.
And Lara, despite herself, missed the version who used to get caught mid-yawn during planning meetings.
"I was going to bring her back right away," Lara said, adjusting Aliyah in her arms. "But someone decided to turn it into a chase across half the canyon."
Aliyah beamed again. "It was fun."
"No, it wasn't," Sarisa said coldly.
Lara looked at her. Really looked.
There were faint shadows beneath her eyes—signs of long nights. The golden tattoos on her arms shimmered faintly, pulsing in rhythm with her breath. She was beautiful, radiant even. But distant.
Aliyah squirmed again. "Can I go to Kaelith's room if she is there now? Please? I swear on the sacred noodles I won't set fire to anything until tomorrow."
Sarisa didn't smile. But she nodded.
Aliyah wiggled down from Lara's arms and sprinted off before either woman could blink.
"Thanks, Mommy ! Bye Mama!"
Her voice echoed through the corridor before the door slammed in her wake.
Silence.
Lara rubbed her temples. "She's too fast."
"She's undisciplined," Sarisa replied flatly.
"She's four," Lara countered. "And brilliant. You know that."
"Brilliance is no excuse for disrespect." Sarisa turned away, walking toward a carved window arch. "If she's to grow into her place in this world, she needs guidance. Rules. Order."
Lara frowned. "She's a kid. She needs freedom. Joy. You remember what that feels like, don't you?"
Sarisa didn't reply.
The tension stretched between them like a drawn bow.
Lara finally crossed the room, stopping beside her. Outside, the sun lit up the courtyard gardens with pale golden light.
Two young Celestians strolled by and stopped dead when they saw Lara's flame-colored jacket. One of them bowed so stiffly they nearly fell over.
Sarisa didn't seem to notice.
"She misses you, you know," Lara said quietly.
Sarisa's eyes flicked toward her. "She sees me every day."
"She misses you. You used to laugh with her. Now you barely blink."
"I don't have the luxury of laughter."
Lara turned fully. "Since when? You're not queen yet."
"Yet." Sarisa's jaw tightened. "But I will be. Sooner than expected. My mother is already preparing the transition."
Lara's stomach tensed. "You didn't mention that."
"I was waiting for the final confirmation," Sarisa said, too calmly. "It came this morning."
A quiet beat passed.
"That's... big," Lara said.
Sarisa nodded. "And dangerous. There are factions within the Celestial Court that still view Aliyah as an anomaly. A liability."
Lara bristled. "She's the strongest child I've ever met. And smarter than half your council combined."
"She has your fire," Sarisa murmured. "But it burns black."
Lara looked away. "She'll learn to control it. I did."
Sarisa exhaled slowly, her tone softening a fraction. "I don't want her hurt."
"Then stop shutting her out."
"I'm not—"
"You are." Lara met her gaze. "You're turning into one of them."
Sarisa's lips parted, but whatever she was about to say died on her tongue.
They stood there, the weight of five years pressing between them.
Unspoken truths. Unfinished conversations.
Lara could see it in her—beneath the polished surface, beneath the queen-in-waiting armor.
The woman she remembered was still there. The one who held Lara's hand the night Aliyah was born.
The one who whispered stories of star spirits and chain magic until their daughter fell asleep in her arms.
But that woman was retreating. Drowning in duty.
And Lara didn't know how to reach her anymore.
Before either could speak, a distant crash echoed through the halls—followed by laughter. Kaelith's laughter.
Then a high-pitched squeal.
"ALIYAH NO—NOT THE INKWELL—"
Sarisa's head snapped toward the corridor. "Not again."
Lara almost laughed. Almost.
Instead, she turned to leave. "I'll go."
"Lara—"
"Don't worry. I'll remind her she's not allowed to summon miniature fire elementals during storytime."
Sarisa blinked. "That's what she did?"
"She said Kaelith was getting bored." Lara smirked. "She was trying to entertain her."
Sarisa pressed her fingers to her forehead.
Lara paused at the door, glancing back. "Just… remember, Sarisa. You don't have to lose yourself just because they expect you to wear a crown."
Then she vanished down the hall, chasing echoes of laughter and footsteps laced with ash and light.