Time Waits for No One

Calamitas leaned back, stretching her arms above her head as if this were all a simple exercise. "Hypothetically. Let's say you had to fight me. What would you do?"

Reilan's sharp intake of breath was almost drowned out by the sound of my own heartbeat.

I stared at the woman before me. A Grand Sorcerer. A mentor to my father. Someone who had spent years shaping warriors.

And she was asking me—a five-year-old child—to strategize against her?

But something in my chest tightened. She's not joking.

A test. A challenge. A chance to prove myself—not just to Calamitas, but to myself.

My mind raced.

[Great Sage Notice: Tactical analysis available. Would you like—]

Not yet.

I forced myself to breathe. Think. I had seen the way Calamitas moved. The way she watched people. Always analyzing. Always calculating.

A direct attack wouldn't work. That much was obvious. But what about something else? A misdirect? A trap?

My fingers twitched, my mana instinctively stirring before I caught myself. No magic.

Then—

"I wouldn't fight you." The words left my mouth before I could second-guess them.

Calamitas' expression flickered—just slightly. "Oh?"

I met her gaze, steady. "I'd make someone else do it."

Silence.

Then—

Calamitas threw her head back and laughed. A full, delighted sound. "Oh, you're going to be fun."

Her laughter didn't stop quickly. It rolled through the room, bouncing off the walls, utterly unrestrained. It wasn't cruel or mocking—no, it was something else. Genuine amusement.

Reilan, still tense, frowned. "You think this is funny?"

Calamitas wiped a nonexistent tear from the corner of her eye, still grinning. "Absolutely."

I didn't move, waiting for the moment to shift.

"You're not wrong, you know," she continued, tilting her head at me. "The smartest fight is the one you don't engage in directly. Let the right person do it for you. It's pragmatic. It's strategic." Her smirk sharpened. "It's also exactly what I would have done."

Reilan let out a breath, clearly unconvinced. "So, what? That was the right answer?"

Calamitas gave a noncommittal shrug. "There is no right answer. Only the one I like best."

Something about that made my stomach twist.

She was testing me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she already knew what she was looking for. And that? That was even more unsettling than the question itself.

The door creaked open before I could ask another question, the sound sharp and deliberate. My mother stepped inside, her gaze sweeping across the room before settling on me.

Lelyah's expression was unreadable, but the tightness in her shoulders told me everything. Her gaze flicked first to me, then to Calamitas—cold, assessing. "That's enough for now." Her voice was clipped, but there was an edge to it—controlled fury simmering just beneath the surface. "And you," she turned her attention fully to Calamitas, "failed to inform me my daughter was awake?"

Calamitas' grin didn't fade, though a flicker of something—amusement, perhaps—crossed her features. She lazily tilted her head, as if gauging how far she could push this. "Ah. The queen has spoken," she mused, not the least bit apologetic. "I was preoccupied, you see. Besides, she's your daughter, isn't she? Shouldn't a mother just know?"

Reilan let out a quiet breath of relief, though his shoulders remained tense, as if bracing for Lelyah's response.

Lelyah's eyes narrowed, her voice dropping into something quieter, deadlier. "Do not test me, Calamitas. You may have been invited here, but that does not make you welcome."

Calamitas let out a thoughtful hum, tapping a finger against her chin. "You're fierce. I can see why he married you now. A man like Satoshi wouldn't settle for anything less."

Lelyah's lip curled slightly. "And yet he still didn't warn me about you."

Calamitas spread her hands in mock innocence, though there was something measured about the way she watched Lelyah. "Oh, but wouldn't that have been boring? I was merely seeing for myself what kind of potential she held."

Lelyah's eyes narrowed, her patience splintering. "Boring? You think this is some kind of game?" Her gaze flicked toward Reilan, catching the way his posture remained rigid. Something was off. "What exactly have you been discussing in here?" Her voice dipped lower, cold as steel. "You tested her, didn't you?" Lelyah's eyes flicked back to Chiori, noting the way she sat upright, alert despite her recent recovery. Then to Reilan, whose jaw was clenched so tight it could have cracked stone. "I can see it all over her. She's too aware. Too focused." Her breath hitched. "What did you do?"

Calamitas tilted her head slightly, eyes gleaming with knowing amusement. "I tested her, yes. But nothing cruel, nothing that would leave lasting harm. Just a simple question, a scenario. And she answered correctly. Not with blind panic or reckless desperation—she calculated. That kind of instinct isn't something that can be ignored. It's already a part of her." Her gaze flicked back to Chiori, something unreadable in her expression. "You think you're protecting her, but you're only delaying the inevitable."

Lelyah's breath hitched, her fingers curling at her sides. "She is five. A child, not some soldier to be tested at your whims."

Calamitas exhaled, almost as if bored. "And yet she handled it better than most adults would." She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "Face it, Lelyah. You're afraid because she's already more than just a child."

Lelyah inhaled sharply, her control slipping. "Get. Out."

Calamitas, for the first time, truly stilled. Her smirk didn't fade, but there was a flicker of something—something weighing whether or not to push further. Then, she exhaled sharply through her nose, her gaze flicking toward Lelyah with a sudden, assessing look.

"If you're so eager to send me away, then fine. But tell me, Lelyah—what do you plan to do instead?" Her voice was quieter now, lacking its earlier playfulness. "You act as though keeping her ignorant is the same as keeping her safe. But you and I both know that's a lie."

Lelyah's hands curled into fists. "Don't pretend you care."

Calamitas let out a sharp laugh. "Care? No. But I am interested. And I don't invest my time in things that don't matter." Her gaze flicked toward me, something unreadable behind her sharp eyes. "That girl of yours is going to be forced into something far beyond your control, no matter how much you fight it. The only question is—will she be prepared? Or will she shatter the moment the weight becomes too much?"

Lelyah's breath hitched, but she refused to break eye contact. "And you think you're the one to prepare her?"

Calamitas rolled her shoulders, a slow grin spreading across her face. "I know I am. But whether you accept that or not?" She took a step back toward the door. "That's your problem, not mine." Then, with a slow, deliberate exhale, she rose from her seat, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off the conversation. "I've gotten what I needed for now. No reason to overstay my welcome." But as she turned toward the door, her gaze flicked briefly back to me. A knowing glint in her eyes. "We'll talk soon, little star."

Reilan stepped forward, subtly positioning himself between me and Calamitas as she moved to leave, but she paid him no mind. Instead, her attention returned to my mother, her voice lowering just slightly. "You can push me away all you like, Lelyah. But sooner or later, you're going to realize that I'm the only one who can help her."

With that, she strolled toward the exit, her presence lingering even after she disappeared from sight.

Lelyah remained still, her breaths controlled but tight. The silence left behind by Calamitas' departure stretched heavy between us. I shifted slightly, expecting my mother to speak first, but the words never came.

Reilan, his posture rigid, was the one to break it. "Lady Lelyah… are you alright?"

She exhaled sharply through her nose, her fingers pressing to her temple as though warding off a headache. "No."

I lowered my gaze, gripping the sheets beneath me. I knew this was more than just frustration—this was fear, concern, and something deeper, something I didn't quite have words for.

"She's dangerous," Reilan muttered, his voice tight. "We can't trust her. You know that."

Lelyah finally turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "I know exactly what she is. And I also know that Satoshi allowed this to happen."

Her words landed with weight, the unspoken conflict between my parents growing heavier in the space between us.

"What do we do?" Reilan asked, glancing at me briefly before looking back at my mother. "She's not going to stop pushing, and Lord Satoshi… he knew about her before this. That means he must have already considered it."

Lelyah was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, she turned to me, her gaze softer but still firm. "We'll talk later. Get some rest."

Her words weren't an end to the conversation—just a temporary pause.

Then, without another word, she turned and left, leaving Reilan and me in the quiet once again.

The evening air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of life within the estate's walls. Satoshi stood on the training grounds, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he stared at the night sky. The weight on his shoulders felt heavier than usual, and for once, it had nothing to do with combat drills or border security.

Elara's fury was still fresh in his mind, burning like an open wound. He had faced war, bloodshed, and countless battles—but nothing quite matched the sharp, precise pain of his wife's words slicing into him. It wasn't just anger. It was something deeper, something more visceral. Betrayal.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, jaw tightening. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He had spent years ensuring that nothing could touch their family, that Chiori would never be thrown into the chaos he and Hinata had endured. He thought—no, he hoped—that he could keep her safe longer.

But reality didn't care about his hopes.

And now, for the first time in years, he was afraid—not just for Chiori, but for what Elara might do next. She had never been this angry before. This wasn't just frustration; this was a mother pushed to the edge, and he wasn't sure if she would ever forgive him.

"So, are you here to thank me or hit me?"

Hinata's voice broke through the silence, casual as always. He leaned against a wooden post, his wings shifting slightly beneath his cloak, golden eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Satoshi's jaw clenched. "Depends. Did you plan all of this, or did you just throw Calamitas into my house and hope for the best?"

Hinata smirked, pushing off the post. "If I wanted to watch your life crumble, I'd put in a little more effort."

Satoshi exhaled sharply. "She's not supposed to be here. Elara—"

"Elara is strong. She'll adjust."

"That's not the point."

Hinata's gaze sharpened. "Then what is? That she's unpredictable? That she doesn't follow your orders? Satoshi, you're the one who always preaches control—but you can't control what's coming." He took a step forward, voice dropping. "You know why she's here. You knew this was going to happen. The moment you saw Chiori's magic, the moment you realized what she was capable of—you knew. You just didn't want to say it out loud."

Satoshi's fingers curled into fists at his sides. He hated how easily Hinata could cut through his defenses, how easily he could say the things Satoshi had spent years trying to ignore.

"She's five."

"She's also the most dangerous thing you've ever seen, and you're terrified of it."

Satoshi flinched, but Hinata wasn't done. "You think keeping her locked away, hiding her magic, keeping her safe is going to protect her? It won't. You know it won't. You're just afraid to admit it."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with things neither of them wanted to say.

Finally, Satoshi exhaled. "You should have told me."

Hinata's expression softened, just slightly. "I knew you'd fight it. And we don't have time for that anymore."

Satoshi closed his eyes briefly before opening them again, his gaze steady. "And what happens when this isn't enough? When Calamitas decides she wants something in return?"

"She already does."

The voice was not Hinata's.

Satoshi barely had a moment to register the shift in presence before he moved on instinct. His blade was already halfway unsheathed, his body twisting to strike at the sudden intruder who had gotten too close—

A flicker of gold light.

A sharp clink.

His blade stopped mid-swing, an invisible barrier halting its path inches from its intended target.

Calamitas stood there, utterly unbothered, one hand raised as if blocking an attack was the most casual thing in the world. She grinned, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Still quick, old man."

Satoshi clicked his tongue, lowering his blade but not sheathing it completely. His pulse was steady, but irritation clawed at him. "Don't do that."

"What, walk up to my former student in his own courtyard?" She chuckled, lowering her hand. "I expected better reflexes. You hesitated."

"I didn't hesitate," Satoshi bit out. "You cheated."

Calamitas smirked. "Semantics."

Hinata, unfazed by the exchange, sighed. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"

Calamitas shrugged. "If I could, I wouldn't be me."

Satoshi exhaled slowly, leveling a glare at her. "What do you want?"

Calamitas stretched her arms above her head. "Now, now. Is that any way to greet your beloved mentor?"

"You stopped being my mentor a long time ago."

Calamitas feigned a wounded look. "Harsh. And after all we've been through."