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Something flickered in Madam Valliere's eyes—perhaps a hesitation; perhaps a thought. Lita had no inkling of her mother's pondering, but the silence in the room was unbearably deafening.

"No,"

said Madam Valliere, her voice hardened.

"She stays here. With me."

Sylana's smile didn't fade, but the intensity came from a chill in her eyes.

"You would let that energy go to waste after everything, sister?"

Her tone was sharp and delivered as a quiet challenge.

"Think about that carefully. The enemies of this family grow stronger. Maybe Lita's emf power would ensure the continuity of the Valliere legacy."

Madam Valliere's eyelids went down, though her face was a mask.

"This is my decision to make, Sylana, and I have made it."

For a few moments, the air thick with unexpressed intentions and unsaid truths, the tension hung between the two sisters as Lita could hardly breathe. Sylana's gaze lingered on Madam Valliere for a second longer then returned to Lita.

"Very well,"

Sylana finally spoke, her smile back again.

"But the offer stands, Lita."

She again reached out and brushed Lita's cheek with her cold fingers.

"When you are ready to embrace your true potential, you know where to find me."

Thus saying, Sylana retreated, her icy presence pulling away, though long after she had gone, cold remained in the room.

The temperature in the room became denser as Sylana stood in front of Madam Valliere and Lita. She opened both of them to her eyes as they looked like shards of glass, crystal-clear, at Lita, before speaking in a soft, controlled voice.

"Lita is no ordinary child, sister"

Sylana said, stepping closer to both of them. While gazing down at Lita, she looked down at her admiringly with an attention flickering almost toward the nearest thing resembling admiration. "That child has a destiny, and through its coming to pass, weapons and magic may be equally mastered. And in the world, there would be few given birth with such ability."

Madam Valliere was impassive, her expression unreadable in listening to it, though Lita could notice a slight adjusting of her mother's posture—perhaps unease or annoyance. No, Sylana increased insistent.

"You know what that means?"

She had Lita's cold fingers, reaching out into Lita's arm gently. It sent out a shiver through Lita's body. "With proper training, she could be a force beyond anything we've seen in this family. The bloodline we share, the power we possess-it lies dormant in her now and is waiting to be awakened. She is meant for greatness, for far more than you have offered her."

Madam Valliere's eyes narrowed just a fraction.

"I know her potential,"

she replied coolly.

"But her path will be determined by me, not you."

Sylana's smile waned and the icy facade looked like it started to crack a little; a glimmer of frustration crossed her face.

"You're wasting her,"

she said sharply.

"Keeping her cooped up in this mansion, denying her the chance to sprout into what she is meant to be. With me, she could learn to control both magic and blade-something even you couldn't master."

Madam Valliere's gaze darkened, but she held her ground.

"Lita stays with me,"

she said firmly.

"Her future is for me to decide."

Sylana's grasp on Lita tightened for a moment; the touch was as cold as ice. Lita felt some strange charge of energy from her aunt- something cold, yet powerful, which instilled a sense of fear and curiosity. Sylana looked down at her with something resembling pity before turning back to her sister.

"You're so mean, sister,"

Sylana said, her voice mocking but with a trace of real bitterness.

"You refuse to see the potential right in front of you because you're too afraid to let her surpass you. You cling to control, but you're doing her a disservice."

Madam Valliere's eyes blazed, but she remained silent, refusing to be baited.

Sylana released Lita, and her smile returned, but it was colder than she had ever seen before.

"You mark my words, dear sister,"

she said softly.

"Lita will outgrow you. And when she does, I will be there to guide her. She deserves more than your chains."

Without waiting for a response, Sylana turned, and her cloak billowed behind her as she strode toward the door, leaving the room steeped in tension. But she turned back one last time to glance at Lita.

"Remember, Lita,"

she said, almost sweetly.

"I will be there when you step into your own."

And with that, Sylana disappeared, leaving behind an icy chill that lingered long after her departure. Lita was frozen in place, her mind reeling with questions and unquenchable curiosity. What was this power that her aunt saw in her? What did it mean to wield the magic and the weapons?