Chapter 13

The heavy wooden door creaked open as I entered the familiar yet imposing corridors of our family mansion. The soft glow of candles illuminated the grandeur of the Raven estate, a stark contrast to the adventures and challenges I had faced in the labyrinth. My heart raced as I knew the consequences of my actions were about to unfold.

"Amy, where have you been?" Luka's voice, tinged with concern, echoed through the hallway. His worry was evident, and I felt a pang of guilt for causing him distress. The labyrinth had brought us closer, and I hated to be the source of his worry.

Before I could respond, Aunt Rosalie's stern voice cut through the air. "Amaryllis Violin, do you have any idea how worried we've been? You disappear for two days, and we have no clue where you are. This behavior is unacceptable."

I lowered my gaze, avoiding eye contact with both Luka and Aunt Rosalie. I knew I had crossed a line, but the lure of the labyrinth had been too strong to resist.

Uncle Aureus's voice, authoritative and measured, spoke from the doorway of his private study. "Come in, Amaryllis. We need to discuss your actions." The gravity in his tone made my stomach churn with anxiety. I followed him into the study, the heavy door closing behind us.

Seated behind his desk, Uncle Aureus looked at me with a mix of disappointment and concern. "Amaryllis, sneaking out and defying the rules is not befitting of the Violin family heir. We've raised you with a sense of responsibility and duty. Your actions reflect not only on yourself but on the legacy of your parents."

"I didn't mean to cause trouble," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "I just wanted to explore, to experience something beyond these walls."

"Amy, we understand your desire for exploration, but there are rules in place for a reason," Luka interjected, his eyes pleading for me to grasp the gravity of the situation. "We care about your safety."

Aunt Rosalie, though her expression held a mix of concern, wore an air of stern authority. "You're not just Amaryllis Violin; you're a symbol of your family's strength. Sneaking out jeopardizes not only your safety but the reputation of the Raven name."

Uncle Aureus leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "We cannot allow this behavior to continue. As the heir, you have a responsibility to uphold the values and traditions of the Violin family. Sneaking out endangers not only yourself but our entire legacy."

"I understand," I whispered, the weight of their expectations pressing down on me. But, amidst their admonitions, I couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, suffocated by the rigid expectations placed upon me.

Aunt Rosalie's scolding continued, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of rebellion. They were focused on my lineage, my duty, but what about my own desires and aspirations? The labyrinth had offered a taste of freedom, and I yearned for more.

The discussion stretched on, each reprimand feeling like another layer of confinement. I felt the sting of being controlled, molded into a predetermined role. The labyrinth had shown me a world beyond these walls, and I couldn't reconcile that newfound freedom with the constraints imposed by my family.

As the lecture continued, I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of frustration. Did they truly understand the complexities of the labyrinth, the choices I had to make? The reprimands felt like an imposition, a stark reminder that my desires were secondary to the expectations placed upon me.

After what seemed like an eternity, Uncle Aureus sighed. "Your magic lessons will be much harsher, Amaryllis. No excursions, no more defiance. You need to focus on your studies and the responsibilities that come with your position. I will make sure that you forget about sneaking out."

The weight of his words settled upon me, and I nodded, a gesture of compliance more than understanding. Luka tried to reduce my punishment but his father was unyielding. The labyrinth had changed me, and I couldn't easily slip back into the mould they had crafted for me.

Exiting the study, I felt a mix of resentment and determination. The labyrinth had shown me a different world—one where I wasn't just an heir but an individual with desires, dreams, and the courage to forge my own path. The confinement of my family's expectations clashed with the newfound freedom I had tasted, and I knew the struggle between duty and autonomy was far from over.

My Uncle Aureus Raven was previously Aureus Violin but he married my Aunt Rosalie Raven, the heiress of the Raven family. This was a big incident a few decades ago because he was the older brother so leaving his family legacy behind to marry her, seemed really surprising for many. After my Uncle resigned, everything related to the Violin household was managed by my father. He married my mother and then had me, his heiress. While, his brother managed the affairs of the Raven household along with his sister in law.

But, my parents died and now he is with the responsibility of raising the Raven household heir and Violin household heir.

As I reflect on the labyrinth adventures that altered the course of my life, I'm also drawn to the changes within the confines of the Raven estate. The shift in dynamics, especially in my magical training, was as profound as the mysteries hidden in the labyrinth's depths.

Uncle Aureus, ever focused on the preservation and enhancement of the Violin legacy, intensified my magical lessons. He was unyielding, pushing me beyond the boundaries of conventional mourning periods. The mourning clothes, once a symbol of my grief, now bore the weight of my accelerated magical education.

The halls of the mansion echoed with incantations and the soft hum of magical energy as Uncle Aureus spared no effort in sculpting me into a formidable magician. Many marveled at my rapid progress, acknowledging my strength and resilience. However, beneath the veneer of praise, whispers of skepticism lingered.

Uncle Aureus was a polarizing figure in the eyes of those who observed the Raven and Violin household. Some admired his dedication to ensuring the Violin name retained its prominence, while others scoffed at what they perceived as undue pressure on a mourning heir.

Regardless of public opinion, my uncle's intentions were crystal clear. He sought to expedite my growth, molding me into a magician capable of shouldering the responsibility of the Violin family. The mourning period, meant for reflection and solace, became a crucible for honing my magical prowess.

The once lenient approach to my magical education transformed into a rigorous routine. Lessons extended into the late hours of the night, with Uncle Aureus meticulously guiding me through intricate spells and esoteric incantations. The boundaries of conventional teachings were pushed, and the magical reservoir within me expanded.

It wasn't just about mastering spells; it was about understanding the nuances, the emotions that fueled the magic. My repertoire grew beyond mere rote learning, delving into the intricate connections between the heart and the arcane. Uncle Aureus emphasized the delicate balance between power and control, instilling in me the importance of harnessing magic responsibly.

The progression from an apprentice to a medium-tier magician was swift, fueled by both necessity and ambition. However, I couldn't ever grasp high tier magic involving the play of emotions until I entered the labyrinth. Uncle Aureus saw in me not just a grieving heir but a potential beacon of the Violin family's strength. The murmurs of dissent outside our estate only fueled his determination to expedite my ascent.

As I reminisce about those challenging times, I recognize the duality of my uncle's motives. He aimed not only to fortify the family legacy but also to empower me in a world where magical prowess held sway. My mourning clothes, once a shroud of sorrow, now bore witness to the transformation occurring within the Raven estate. I wonder if he would have done this because he knows how hard it is to shoulder responsibilities at a young age.

The public eye may cast judgment on the Raven household, but within these walls, I felt the currents of change shaping me into a force to be reckoned with. The mourning period became a crucible of growth, and my uncle, a stern alchemist forging resilience and strength from the raw materials of grief.

The challenges were daunting, the expectations weighty, but I embraced the journey keeping in my mind that my uncle's vision for me extended beyond the confines of our estate. The labyrinth had opened my eyes to a world of wonders, but within the Raven mansion, a different kind of magic unfolded—one that sought to empower, strengthen, and prepare me for the intricate dance of power that awaited beyond our secluded abode.

However, I would still want them to be less harsh on me. Like my parents…

My mother and father… I miss them. The echoes of my father's sacrifice still reverberate through the corridors of my memories, a haunting melody that plays whenever I delve into the past. It was a day etched in sorrow, a day that shattered the tranquility of our once-happy home.

My father, a beacon of strength and kindness, met his untimely end while shielding me from a threat that loomed within the very walls we called home. The incident occurred during a magical experiment gone awry, a burst of unpredictable energy that threatened to consume everything in its path. In that perilous moment, my father, driven by an instinct to protect, pushed me to safety, absorbing the brunt of the magical surge.

I watched in horror as he, who had always been my pillar of support, crumpled under the force of the unleashed power. The agony etched on his face mirrored the pain that seared through my heart. He sacrificed himself to spare me, leaving a void that would forever linger in the spaces he once occupied.

In the aftermath, our once joyous home became a mausoleum of memories, each room echoing with the absence of his laughter. My mother, too, underwent a transformation—one that distanced her from me. Grief can be a cruel architect, reshaping emotions into unrecognizable forms. My mother, burdened by the loss of her husband, withdrew into a cocoon of sorrow, shutting herself off from the world, and inadvertently, from me. After a few days, she left home for work but never returned. Before leaving, she left me at Uncle's mansion, the Raven Estate and asked him to take care of me. I don't think she will ever return.

The void left by my father's departure was compounded by the growing chasm between my mother and me. Where once there had been love and understanding, there now existed a palpable silence, broken only by the occasional whispers of servants echoing through the desolate halls. The once vibrant tapestry of family life now hung in tatters, each thread unraveling with the passing days.

Maybe that's why I sought refuge in a labyrinth. It was, afterall, in this climate of grief and isolation that I sought solace in the world beyond our estate, a world that held the promise of magic and discovery. Little did I know that the labyrinth, with its mysterious depths, would become both a refuge and a crucible—a place where I would confront not only mystical challenges but also the shadows of my past.

Little did I know that the labyrinth, with its twists and turns, became a metaphor for the intricate maze of emotions that defined my life—a life forever altered by a father's selfless act and a mother's silent withdrawal.

But, the labyrinth also gave me the taste of freedom for once. The confinement of my family's expectations clashed with the newfound freedom I had tasted, and I knew the struggle between duty and autonomy was far from over. I am not going to settle for anything less than I deserve no matter what happens. I will go to the labyrinth again. I will get to the topmost floor and finally, become the strongest and finally get out of here. I will also prove to everyone that traditions do not hinder one's life and that duty should never bind you from doing what you really want to. I will be the symbol of power, one, whose story will be sung by generations to come. I will definitely become the strongest.