The carriage rolled forward, wheels creaking over uneven road.
Violet sat across from Calla, pressed against the window.
Her violet eyes tracked every tree, every snowbank, every bird that scattered from the path.
"Mother, look at the scenery!" Her voice carried genuine excitement. "It's so beautiful!"
Calla's smile remained perfect. "Yes, dear. It's really beautiful."
She watched Violet's face—the way her eyes lit up, the small smile playing at her lips, the energy radiating from her small frame.
Everything about it was wrong.
***
Calla's POV
The carriage bumped over another rut in the road. I barely noticed.
My attention was fixed entirely on the girl sitting across from me.
She looked happy. Actually happy.
Staring out the window like a child seeing the world for the first time.
Her eyes bright. Her face flushed with health and excitement.
Disgusting!
That disgusting smile.
I can't stand looking at her.
Even with the dyed black hair, those silver roots keep showing through.
Like weeds pushing through cultivated soil. Persistent, disgusting.
Yet she sits there, alive and energetic, when she should be dying.
My fingers tightened on my bag.
The poison I gave her last time was concentrated.
Stronger than any previous dose. It should have put her in bed for weeks—writhing in pain, coughing blood, barely able to move.
Yet here she is. Walking. Talking. Smiling.
How?
My mind raced through possibilities.
Is Maria tampering with the medicine? Diluting it? Replacing it with something harmless?
No. Maria's too trusting. Too naive. She wouldn't even think to question me.
Garrett, then? Did that brute somehow figure it out?
But he's never shown any suspicion. Never questioned. Never interfered.
So what the fuck is going on?
Something is wrong. Something has changed.
And if this continues—if her body keeps recovering instead of deteriorating—she might awaken her Mana Heart.
That cannot happen.
I need to stop it. By whatever means necessary.
I need to know what's changed. What's protecting her. What's keeping her alive when she should be rotting from the inside out.
***
The town approached gradually.
Dirt roads gave way to cobblestone streets. The forest thinned, replaced by cultivated fields and wooden fences.
Smoke rose from dozens of chimneys—homes and shops and workshops clustered together like mushrooms after rain.
Greyhollow's main town wasn't large by capital standards, but compared to the scattered cottages where Violet lived, it felt almost metropolitan.
The carriage passed through the market district first. Stalls lined the streets—merchants hawking fresh bread, dried fish, winter vegetables stored in cold cellars. People bundled in thick coats moved between vendors, haggling and gossiping in equal measure.
Then came the craftsmen's quarter. The rhythmic clang of a blacksmith's hammer. The acrid smell of tanning leather.
A carpenter's shop with fresh-cut timber stacked outside, wood shavings scattered across the ground like yellow snow.
Children ran through the streets despite the cold, playing games Violet recognized from her childhood.
Their laughter echoed off stone walls.
The carriage turned onto a wider street paved with better stone. Buildings here were taller, better maintained.
Signs hung above doorways—a painted sword for the weaponsmith, a mortar and pestle for the apothecary, a stylized flame for the mage's supply shop.
And there, at the end of the street—the Adventurer's Guild.
A three-story building of dark wood and grey stone. The guild's emblem hung above the entrance—a compass rose surrounded by crossed weapons.
People moved in and out constantly—warriors in worn armor, mages in traveling robes, scouts with bows slung across their backs.
The carriage stopped nearby.
Calla stepped out first, offering her hand to help Violet down.
"Come, little bird. This way."
They walked past the guild entrance. Violet caught glimpses through the open doors—quest boards covered in parchment, a bar where adventurers gathered to drink and boast, weapons and equipment displayed on walls like trophies.
Magical instruments gleamed in shop windows. Crystal orbs that measured mana capacity. Enchanted compasses that pointed toward magical phenomena.
Scrolls sealed with wax that promised knowledge to those who could pay.
Warriors in plate armor negotiated with merchants.
Mages examined spell components with critical eyes.
A young woman in leather armor argued loudly with a guild clerk about payment for a completed quest.
It was alive. Vibrant. Dangerous.
Everything Violet had been kept from her entire life.
Calla's hand on her shoulder guided her past all of it, down a side street toward a quieter building.
***
Violet's POV
She smiled at me—that warm smile that might have melted me in my past life.
But now it just stokes the fire burning in my chest.
Rage building brick by brick.
Still, I need to act like a child. The naive little girl she thinks I am.
I need to make sure she doesn't suspect. Doesn't learn.
Doesn't discover what's really happening.
The problem is, I don't know what she's planning.
We stopped before a building with a brass nameplate beside the door: Mana and Soul Study Room.
My stomach dropped.
No. Not this.
Calla pushed the door open. A bell chimed softly.
Inside was dark—thick curtains blocked most of the light. Incense burned somewhere, filling the air with sweet smoke that made my head feel fuzzy.
An old woman sat behind a desk, her face deeply lined, grey hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her eyes were milky white—blind, or perhaps seeing things normal eyes couldn't.
Calla approached with that same gentle smile. "I would like a complete mana and mana circuit check."
The old woman nodded once. "Follow."
She stood with surprising grace for her age and led us through a doorway into an inner chamber.
This room was darker still. No windows. No light except from glowing crystals embedded in the walls at regular intervals.
In the center of the floor, carved into the stone itself, was a mana circle. Complex geometric patterns intersected with runic script that pulsed faintly with inner light.
The old woman gestured toward it. "Stand in the center, little girl."
My heart hammered against my ribs.
This was bad. Very bad.
If she examines my mana circuits, she'll see they're not damaged. She'll see the poison hasn't taken root. She'll know something is wrong.
And then—
Calla's hand landed gently on my back, pushing me forward.
"Go ahead, dear. It won't hurt. The nice lady just needs to check that everything is working properly."
I stepped forward on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else.
The mana circle waited.