"What is she doing?" Isha asked, watching her mother's back.
"I would suspect she is leaving." It was one of the few relatives she did not recognise.
Isha glared.
Others in the funeral grounds began to whisper. Her mother had destroyed father's reputation in one swoop, by leaving the funeral first, before all the ceremonies that would last for days yet. How could she do that? How could she not care about her own son, even if he was a stepson?
She made to follow her mother, but a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her. It was her father. "Father, what are you doing? I need to stop her."
"Leave her be, little doll. The woman can do as she pleases. She is not a prisoner."
"But Father, I can stop her. I have to. She can't leave the funeral like this. What will people think?"
Father shook his head. "We are separated, soon to be divorced. She has no obligation towards me, Isha."
"But she has an obligation to Isham. Him," She said, pointing at her brother's grave. "Does fourteen years of life spent together with him mean nothing to her? How can she do this to us? To him?"
"I had hoped…" Her father began, but shook his head. "But apparently not. Why do you think we're separated? Why do you think I'm ending our relationship with her? She cares not for a family. All she ever wanted was power. More power."
"But I have to try. I'll make her see reason. You will see."
Father shook his head again. "It's futile and you know it. She will only break your … Isha?"
She slipped from her father's grip and ran away after her mother. She heard her father sigh behind her, but ignored it and ran even faster.
In the middle of her run, she used the first skill any [Practitioner] gained.
[Flight.]
Her legs left the ground, and she flew through the air, controlling the speed and the direction of her flight. It was easy for her. She had done this thousands of times before.
The flight skill was barely faster than her run, but it should be enough to get to her mother sooner rather than later, before she jumped through the gateway.
There were no obstacles for her to dodge and weave about, so she reached The Travelling Hub in a matter of minutes.
Was her mother flying too? Why else wouldn't she have caught up to her by now?
The Travelling hub had a pavilion like structure with a single entrance. Four guards were positioned at the entrance. She flew into the hub, no one stopped her.
The Travelling Hub, as the name suggested, had multiple platforms that allowed person to travel hundreds of miles in an instant. Her father had owned thirty-three gateways, each one connected to a different location. One of which was connected to her mother's estate.
Isha knew where it was and flew towards it.
Her mother stood in front of the gateway, which was nothing more than a raised platform of silver and gold.
Her mother looked at her, arms folded. "Took you long enough. Ishvara, I am disappointed in you. I thought you were better at [Flight] skill. You should have bolstered the skill as I taught you."
Bolstering a skill increased its power by two-fold, but it required a consumption of a particularly rare breed of coral stones. Of course, her parents could afford it, but that didn't mean she had to be wasteful.
"You were waiting for me?" She said as she landed, deactivating the [Flight] skill.
"Of course, my dear. Did you think I wouldn't notice my own daughter following me?"
"Oh." That is all Isha could say.
"So, what do you want from me?"
"Where are you going, mother?"
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "I am an Archmage, if you had not noticed. I have work to do."
"How can you leave just like that? What about Isham's funeral?"
Her mother added a carmine coloured coral stone on the gateway platform to activate it. "The funeral is over."
"Part of it, perhaps, but there are still three more days of ceremonies left. You can't leave before that. He is your son, for god's sake."
Mother snorted. "He won't be for long. Your father is divorcing me, haven't you noticed? Unlike you, he's not my biological son. After the divorce, he won't be my son. The law says so. Why should I care for him?"
"How can you say that? You have lived with him for fourteen years."
"Most of which time I spent on my work."
"Father's right, isn't he? You care for nothing but power."
"Well, that's something your father and I can agree upon. You will learn soon enough what power means in this world. Power is everything. Power is freedom. And someday I will have it. So will you. I'll make sure of it."
Nevermind, her mother would do it by taking away her freedom of choice. Did she even hear herself?
"You make no sense. How could you be more free? You always do what you please anyway."
Her mother laughed. Ha-as if she had said something funny. "You will understand the sense of my words. When you grow up. You are young yet."
Mother stepped onto the raised platform as if to leave, but then stopped and turned. "You have one week to mourn your brother. Then you will return home—to me."
"I will do no such thing, Mother."
"Oh, but you will return. You won't have a choice in the matter."
Her mother turned and stepped into the gateway. The entire platform, including her mother, shimmered for a second, then she vanished in a flash of light.
***
She walked back to the funeral grounds. She did not use her skill this time.
Her mother's last words before she had left hung over her shoulder like a hand of an ominous prophecy.
Oh, but you will return. You won't have a choice in the matter.
What did she mean by that? She would have to ask father.
Once she reached the funeral grounds, she stomped towards her father and confronted him. "Father, Mother said I will have to live with her and I won't have a choice in the matter. What did she mean by that?"
"Oh, dear!" Father said, looking around. People were spread around them in pockets of small social groups. Some of them were sipping black wine, a funeral beverage. "I wanted to talk to you about this in a much more … appropriate place. Somewhere you could sit down."
"What did she mean, Father?"
Her father sighed. "If you must know. There are few laws about the divorce we have not talked to you about…"
She did not like where this conversation was heading. "You can't mean…"
"When there is a divorce, mother always gets the custody of her daughter and father his son."
"What kind of stupid law is that? You have to do something about it. You are a powerful noble, aren't you?"
"It is because I am a Lord that I must follow these laws. If I don't follow it, no one else will. The punishments for such actions are harsh."
How bad could the punishment be? He was an important figure in the Empire, after all.
"I don't believe you want to hear about it."
She frowned and pressed him further for an answer, but he wouldn't speak on the matter.
"I don't want to live with her. It's suffocating," Isha said, looking up at the now cloudless sky. Spells were fascinating that way. It could change the weather so spontaneously.
"You won't have to live with her for long, daughter. I saw to that myself. And your mother won't have a choice in the matter."
Those words smelled like one of her father's plot. Even at their own son's funeral, her parents didn't stop plotting. Well, what did she expect? They were highly acclaimed nobility of magical bloodline. "Father, what did you do?"
Father smiled. This was the first time she had seen him smile in many months.
"You, my dear daughter, are going to apprentice under a Greatmage. That is one of the requirement to join the Black Coral Academy. And so long as you wish it, your mother cannot stop it. Nor do I think she will try."
Dear readers,
From the next chapter, it will be back to Michael's POV. I will alternate between their POVs every few chapters.
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No stories are without typos. If you find any, help me slay those monstrosities with your comments. I know you will find some. I've faith in you.
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