Chapter 74: "... the next bolt won’t be interrupted"
"LADY RAIKA!"
Running across the well-manicured lawns of green, blue, and crimson was Heather, her eyes swollen with tears, those tears running through her makeup as trails of multicolored lines marked her cheeks.
Raika flashed forward, lightning crackling in her wake.
In a blink, she stood before Heather.
"Heather, what is wrong?" She embraced the young lady, worried eyes demanding an answer.
"Huge... sob... ush... Da... sob... shak... Ura on... Mo... La..." she spoke through sobs, her words incoherent, barely audible amidst the tears.
"What are you saying..." Raika clutched her cheeks between her palms, staring straight into her eyes.
"Snap out of it..."
A jolt ran through Heather’s body as Raika’s shock brought her to her senses.
Her eyes immediately cleared, her pupils dilating as she stared at Raika as if she were only just noticing her.
She was far beyond Elena’s range. Not to mention, she had barely been exposed long enough for Elena’s abilities to have a lasting effect. She continued crying only because of the lingering residue that still plagued her.
The sudden shock overshadowed the overwhelming emotions she had been feeling.
"Aunt Raika..." she called out. "...Why are you here?"
She hadn’t even realized she had rushed to her on her own.
"You called me..." Raika let go of her cheeks, brows raised in irritation.
"Why were you crying?" she inquired.
"Crying?" Heather asked, tilting her head in confusion.
It seemed that as the residual purple mana left her system, it took with it the memories of its influence, or just simply made it hazy.
Feeling a cold sensation on her face, she touched her cheeks, her makeup staining her fingers.
"Huh..." she exclaimed, staring at her fingers in confusion.
"Who is that?" Alaric wondered. It was the first time he had seen Heather.
She looked familiar to him. He remembered the guests at his birth celebration banquet, several of them having similar shades of pink hair, the only point of familiarity he could identify.
Members of the Brigid clan who had joined the celebration.
Unable to remember why she had cried, Heather looked at her stained hands in a daze, Raika watching her with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
"Take this..." Raika handed her a handkerchief. "...Clean it up. The daughter of Hellflame should look the part."
"Thank you..." Confused, Heather took the handkerchief, slowly wiping away the makeup stains, her mind buzzing as she tried to recall what had happened. Once again, the color purple flashed through her mind.
"Purple?"
"Welcome, Your Majesty..." Hugh’s voice sounded, Heather, Raika, and Alaric turning their attention to him.
He walked down the flight of stairs leading to the entrance of the main estate, adorned in a long royal blue overcoat featuring heavy gold floral embroidery and a dramatic flowing cape.
Alaric looked up at him, the latter’s gaze falling on him, and for a moment, killing intent flashed in Hugh’s eyes.
A moment, yet Raika felt it.
Crackle!! Boom!!
Time seemed to freeze as lightning instantly descended upon Hugh.
The lightning was far too fast for him to even notice its descent.
A guard clad in black armor intercepted the attack with a lightning bolt of his own, crimson-red lightning intertwining with the golden tribulation.
The two cancelling each other out.
"What?!" Hugh’s pupils dilated as he noticed what had happened. The maids and guards remained bowed. Even the guard who had saved Hugh returned to his post almost instantly, resuming his bow.
As if nothing had transpired.
"..."
Raika briefly glanced at the guard who had saved Hugh, her brows slightly knitted in frustration, but she didn’t press the matter any further.
He was just doing his job, protecting the firstborn of the Vulcan clan.
"Aunt Raika..." Heather rushed to Raika’s side. "...Please forgive him for his insolence," and quickly knelt, begging for Hugh’s life.
She hadn’t noticed Hugh’s killing intent, but for a member of a fire clan to wear blue, what did that mean if not to mock? Unless it was for a special occasion, perhaps attending a water clan’s banquet.
It could only mean he had deliberately worn it to mock Alaric. Not that Raika had noticed. She had simply reacted to the killing intent, attacking before she even knew its source.
"Get up, Heather. It’s not your place to apologize. The one at fault should apologize." Raika helped Heather to her feet, her enraged gaze settling on the disoriented Hugh.
He didn’t know what had happened. One moment he was walking down the stairs with a condescending look, and then...
A chain of lightning had almost claimed his life.
The residual charge made his hair stand on end.
This wasn’t a power that would have simply zapped him. It was meant to claim his life, his instincts screaming that he had narrowly escaped death.
"I... I am sorry, My lady..." He quickly bowed.
He had always disliked Raika for this very reason.
Fear.
He was a Vulcan, the heir to the Vulcan ruling family, a Third Resonance mage who could go toe-to-toe with Fourth Resonance mages due to his mythical variant and mastery of his power.
Among his peers, he was a prodigy.
Fearing no one, yet he knew when to run. That didn’t mean he was afraid, but in front of Raika, he felt fear.
He had once confronted her after hearing his mother complain that Aiden favored Raika more than her.
A six-year-old child, knowing no better, came to Raika, chest puffed out as he spoke his mind.
Raika didn’t really care whether one was a child or not. Her clan didn’t, so neither did she.
The six-year-old was greeted with a lightning whip for his insolence, leaving a small burn scar on his left bum that faded over time.
He had believed he was stronger, more mature, and had already gotten over his fear. Even today, when he saw her as he descended the stairs, he hadn’t felt anything.
Well, the trigger had yet to come.
Raika’s clear intent to kill him for showing hostility brought those memories rushing back.
In the past, his pride had made him hate her, that dislike seeming to bury his fear. But now, it had been unearthed.
"So he is the one," Alaric thought, believing Hugh to be the one who had sent the assassins after him. For all he knew, Hugh could have even added the bounty.
A foreign nation couldn’t have placed a bounty on his head without help. He must have done it, or at least turned a blind eye.
Raika walked up to Hugh, still bowed, and leaned toward his ear.
"If you look at him again, the next bolt won’t be interrupted." Her voice came out like the whisper of death.