Ten years prior.
Serina stood on the balcony of her mothers castle, the cool evening breeze ruffling her dark hair, brushing against her elegantly tailored robes. The world below bustled with life, but she felt detached, like a ghost watching over a vibrant artwork she could no longer touch.
The laughter of children sang in the distance, mingling with the faint sounds of merchants closing their stalls, but none of it reached her heart.
From her perch, she could see the towering spires of the Valerian Mage Academy piercing the sky—it was just on the outskirts of Vahgra, the mage coalition settlement—where her mother rules as leader.
Serina turned away from the view, stepping back into the warmth of the room. The air felt clustered, filled with the scent of incense and swallowed words. She glanced at the wall where portraits of her ancestors stared down, their expressions carved in stone yet somehow alive with expectations.
They had fought hard to maintain their position, each face a reminder of the power and privilege that came with what she had.
Yet, beneath the polished surface of her upbringing was a fractured reality. Her mother had always insisted on kindness and compassion—tenets Serina had come to associate with weakness.
"To rule with kindness," her mother would often say, her voice soft yet firm, "is the greatest strength of all." Serina had clung to those words in her youth, believing them to be a guiding light. But now, as she prepared to face the reality of her mother's teachings, she felt only bitterness.
"Serina?" a voice called softly from the doorway. It was Ilyas, her servant, standing with a worried expression. His light brown hair fell into his eyes, obscuring his worried gaze. "You've been up here for hours. Are you alright?"
"Do I look alright?" she snapped, surprising herself with the venom in her tone. She turned her back to him, staring out at the sunset once more.
"I'm just... thinking."
"Thinking?" Ilyas stepped closer, concern etched on his features. "About what? The academy? The upcoming exam?"
"About my mother," she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And the expectations that come with being her daughter."
Ilyas hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
"She means well, Serina. She wants you to be—"
"Be what? A perfect image to take her place?" Her laughter was cold, slicing through the room like a dagger. "Do you think the world cares about her...us? She's a puppet not a queen...and this castle is a cage? a façade that shields us from truth."
He stepped back, the shadows of her anger creeping into the space between them. "You're not your mother," he said gently. "But there's nothing wrong in being like her, she's a great woman loved by all."
"Really?" Serina turned to him, her eyes blazing. "What if I don't want to be loved by all? What if I want to be powerful? What if I want to be feared?"
Ilyas opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, the door swung open, and her mother stepped in, her presence commanding the room. Lady Alina Marceli, with her golden hair cascading like sunlight and eyes that sparkled with an unsettling blend of warmth and authority, stood before them.
Serina's heart twisted painfully at the sight.
"Serina," her mother began, the softness in her tone a mask for the underlying tension. "I've been looking for you. The council is gathering, and they wish to discuss your future. It's time to show them the potential I know you possess."
"You've protected me for too long, and now, you've blinded me with your false love."
"False love?" Her mother's voice was incredulous, rising to a pitch that reverberated through the room. "You are my daughter! I have sacrificed everything for you!"
Serina felt a surge of rage, the familiar warmth of her magic bubbling just beneath her skin. She stepped forward, her fists clenched. "You think I need your sacrifice? I need freedom!"
In that moment, the air shifted, charged with an unspeakable force. A flicker of magic sparked between them, a crackle of energy that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. "You want freedom?" Lady Alina hissed, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"Then let's see how far you're willing to go."
Serina's heart raced, and she felt the world tilt on its axis. "What do you mean?"
Without warning, her mother lifted her hand, and Serina felt a surge of power wash over her—a torrent of magic that threatened to consume her. But instead of fear, a dark exhilaration coursed through Serina, urging her to embrace the storm.
"Show me!" Serina yelled, her voice echoing like a battle cry. "Show me my true strength!"
With that, the room erupted into chaos. Magic clashed against magic, the air filled with the scent of ozone and the sound of shattering glass. Serina channeled her power, the warmth of mana twisted into something more potent—something dangerous.
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A blinding light erupted from her hands, illuminating the room in a brilliant flash.
"Serina!" her mother's voice broke through the noise, panic lacing her tone. "Don't do this! You're stronger than this rage—dont let
her
take you!"
But Serina was already too far gone, the darkness swirling within her urging her to embrace the chaos. She unleashed her power, and in that moment of fury, she took a step forward.
"This is my strength!"
With a single, devastating surge of magic, she felt the world shift as she aimed her energy toward her mother. The light exploded into a brilliant inferno, consuming everything in its path including ilyas.
Lady Alina's scream echoed in Serina's ears, a haunting sound that would forever be etched in her memory. The last image she saw was her mother's face—shocked, betrayed, and filled with the realization of what her daughter had become.
"Yes Darling, you have made the first sacrifice, and rewards will be given...I assure you this"
Serina's head swiveled for the source of the voice but she found nothing.
"Who are you?" She muttered.
"I am...balance...and that power is the arcane weave."