The memory is as vivid as it is painful. Helia relived the moment when she was nine years old, the day her mother was buried. The sky was a mournful gray, reflecting the heavy atmosphere. They were all there, standing around the coffin, dressed in black. The dark wood of the coffin glistened under the faint light of the day as it was slowly lowered into the earth.
The marquis, her father, remained stoic, his features impassive, frozen in an unusual coldness. His eyes, usually sharp, did not blink, staring intently at the coffin as if refusing to accept reality. By his side, her brother Lucian, then fourteen years old, struggled not to cry. His face was tense, his fists clenched, betraying his efforts to stay strong, to resemble their father.
Helia, on the other hand, did not possess this strength. She cried bitterly, curled in the arms of her nurse. It was too much for her, this pain she did not yet fully understand. Then, she felt another embrace enveloping her. Elysia had gently pulled her from the nurse's arms to take her into her own. In a soft, almost whispered voice, she murmured, "I am here, Helia," trembling but reassuring. "You are not alone." In that moment, Elysia seemed to her the perfect friend, a pillar in a world that was collapsing.
Helia shook her head sharply, pulling her mind back to the present, far from these painful memories. She was in her laboratory, surrounded by familiar flasks and instruments. On her workbench, she was isolating molecules from new plants she had recently collected. Using solvents to dissolve plant tissues, she separated the various active compounds. Each sample was carefully filtered and preserved for later analysis.
The extracts, sealed in small vials, waited their turn to be examined under lenses enhanced by magic, allowing her to detect the chemical properties and their potential biological effects. The reassuring silence of the laboratory enveloped her work, a routine that was almost calming.
It had been several weeks since her tea with Lady Sera, and her nightmares had dissipated. During this time, she had avoided all contact with Elysia, ignoring her letters and refusing to see her when she had appeared at her door. Helia simply was not ready to face Elysia, not yet.
These weeks of forced isolation had allowed her to reflect deeply. Her entire life had been guided, even controlled, by Elysia. She had never participated in social events, had no other friends, and had even limited her ambitions in the scientific field, all because Elysia had convinced her that these studies were unworthy of a lady. She had conducted research and pursued her studies, but always with reluctance, a constant fear of standing out even more as the odd one in her family and society. But today, her laboratory and experiments were her only comfort.
As she handled tubes and reagents, lost in thought, the door to her laboratory opened softly. Lucille, her loyal maid and the only one allowed to enter, appeared. "Dinner is served, miss. Your father and brother are waiting for you."
Helia nodded, setting her instruments down with some reluctance. The family dinner ritual was a moment she often dreaded. Especially lately, when the discussions almost exclusively revolved around the crisis at the borders.
Around the table, her father and brother were discussing the growing tensions at the borders. The marquis, her father, was deeply involved in managing the crisis, using his skills as a negotiator to secure vital resources for the army, while Lucian participated in the development of military strategies. Helia, usually withdrawn during these discussions, listened this time with particular attention.
She had heard of the crisis for months, but the details had always eluded her, as if the stakes seemed distant. Yet, that evening, an unexpected curiosity pushed her to speak up.
"I heard it was a new species of wild boar causing all this havoc at the border," she said finally, breaking her silence. "How could the situation have escalated this much? Aren't the knights able to control them?"
It was not the first time such a dangerous creature had appeared. With the dense mana emanating from nature, it sometimes happened that too high a concentration at the birthplace of an animal led to mutations, transforming an ordinary species into an uncontrollable threat. Worse, in some cases, the mana energy created improbable hybrids, chimeric species whose offspring should never have been viable, yet they persisted, becoming a danger to the kingdom's balance.
However, this had never truly caused significant problems. Even when these creatures managed to reproduce, they were quickly handled by the imperial knights. Their expertise and organization allowed them to eradicate the threat before it could spread too far. But this time, the situation seemed different.
Lucian, surprised by his sister's sudden interest, turned his head toward her. "It's not that simple," he replied. "This new species is venomous. Their venom causes near-instant heart failure, even from a simple scratch. The losses are already huge, and the soldiers must be extra cautious, which makes the fights much more difficult."
Helia furrowed her brows, a realization dawning on her. Venomous? That word resonated strangely within her. It reminded her of the research, which she had vaguely heard of in the halls of the Academy, about a rare venom that scientists had unsuccessfully tried to neutralize.
She straightened slightly, her thoughts aligning rapidly. "This venom…" she began, thoughtful. "I've heard of research on a similar topic. Perhaps there's a connection."
Her mind raced. She had never really paid attention to this crisis, leaving it in the hands of the military and diplomats. But in that moment, she thought: Why not? She had skills, knowledge. She had nothing to lose by trying to get involved. Perhaps even she could be of use.
"Father, I would like to participate in the research on the antidote," Helia suddenly declared.
Her brother, who had been in the middle of a conversation with their father, stopped dead and turned an incredulous look toward her. "Helia, what are you talking about now?" he exclaimed, clearly surprised by this unexpected proposal.
Helia ignored her brother and turned directly toward their father. "Father, I'm not just an amateur," Helia replied, her voice carrying a rare confidence. "I've studied advanced topics, just like the researchers currently working on this project."
What she said was true. She didn't need to mention that she had already proven her skills by anonymously sharing several of her discoveries, which had significantly advanced various scientific fields. Helia had always preferred to stay in the shadows, carefully avoiding attention.
The marquis furrowed his brow, placing his hands calmly on the table, but his gaze remained stern. "This isn't a matter of skill, Helia. This mission is far too dangerous, especially for a young woman."
"Father!" she exclaimed, stung by his words.
Lucian, irritated by what he considered an unreasonable request, intervened sharply: "I had noticed you've been acting strange lately, but this—this is ridiculous. Do you understand how dangerous this venom is? Just a simple touch can kill you! This isn't a joke!"
Helia crossed her arms and glared at him defiantly. "Believe me, Lucian, I understand exactly what a venom is. I've handled substances so corrosive they could dissolve metal in seconds."
A stunned silence fell over the room. The marquis and Lucian exchanged surprised glances. They had never truly grasped the extent of Helia's work in her laboratories. Lucian opened his mouth to respond, but the marquis silenced him with a gesture.
The marquis spoke more calmly now, weighing each word: "Helia, your brother is right."
But Helia, with gentleness and determination, responded, "Father, the kingdom is facing a crisis. I can help. I know I can. I promise to take all necessary precautions and avoid any unnecessary risks."
The marquis sighed deeply, looking at his daughter with an unusual hesitation. He had always allowed Helia to do as she pleased, letting her make her own choices without too much interference. He worried for her, but deep down, he didn't see himself becoming the authoritarian father he had never been for her.
After a long silence, he slowly nodded. "Very well," he said in a measured tone.
Lucian sat up abruptly, shocked by the decision. "Father, you can't be serious!" he exclaimed, indignation clear on his face.
The marquis turned to Lucian, his gaze firm and resolute. "My decision is final, Lucian." Then, after a brief pause, he added, "I have a meeting with the emperor tomorrow. I will relay your request."
Lucian clenched his fists, his anger boiling over. "Of course," he spat bitterly. "I can't believe you're willing to let her take such a risk. This is madness!"
The marquis sighed softly, then fixed Lucian with a calm yet detached gaze. "You're worrying for nothing, Lucian. Helia is no longer a child. She's old enough to make her own choices."
Lucian opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself, visibly frustrated. His fists clenched for a moment, then, without another word, he turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing heavily down the hallway.
Helia, on the other hand, threw one last look at her father, a slight smile playing on her lips. She was pleased to have secured the permission she had hoped for. Without wasting time, she gave a slight bow and hurried out of the room to begin preparing her research.
Lucille had finally convinced Helia not to lock herself away in her lab for the night. "Miss, you need rest. Leave the research for tomorrow. Go wash up and get some sleep," she insisted, her voice soft but firm. Helia reluctantly agreed. She washed, put on her nightgown, and settled into bed, a book open before her: an encyclopedia of wild boar species.
As she was engrossed in her reading, trying to calm her mind, the door to her room opened slowly. Lucian, her brother, entered, dressed in his nightwear, a faint smell of wine lingering around him. He dropped onto the couch with a tired sigh. Helia raised an eyebrow at him but remained silent.
"It must be nice," he remarked, his tone dry, betraying an underlying resentment.
Helia frowned, confused. "What?"
Lucian leaned back against the couch, his eyes shining with contained emotion. "Always being able to do and have whatever you want."
Helia placed her book on her lap, sighed, and responded, irritated: "Look, Lucian, I don't care what you think. Too bad if you don't believe in my abilities..."
Before she could finish, Lucian cut her off. "It's not about that."
Helia looked at him, confused, waiting for him to continue. He crossed his arms, his face tight. "Father's always been a lot more lenient with you. You just bat your eyelashes at him and he caves. No matter how hard I work, all I get are his reproaches and accusing stares."
She stared at him, shocked by his words. "You think I'm lucky? Father lets me do whatever I want because he doesn't care about me at all."
Lucian shook his head, frustrated. "Stop saying nonsense. We all know that..."
This time, it was Helia who interrupted him. "Lucian, if he's hard on you, it's because he cares about what you do. I don't have that privilege."
Lucian immediately retorted, "It's just because I have to become the next marquis. And don't say that. Of course Father cares about you, more than you think."
Helia let out a bitter laugh. "Oh really? Then explain to me why he didn't come to my graduation? Why doesn't he ever ask about my research or what I do with my life? Why has he never suggested we have tea together like he does with you? Or just take a walk or go out? Why do I hardly ever have a conversation with him outside of dinner? Father has no expectations of me. He doesn't care about me, simple as that."
Lucian opened his mouth, ready to respond, but Helia continued, her voice breaking slightly: "So yes, it's nice to be able to do whatever I want. I can't imagine how hard it must be to have a father constantly on your back, pushing you to be the best you can be."
Lucian, taken aback, murmured softly, "Helia..."
But she turned over in her bed, her back to him. "You can close the door when you leave." She had just uncovered deeply buried wounds, old pains she had been trying to hide for years. Her relationship with her father had always been cold, especially since their mother's death.
Her brother stood still for a moment, staring at his sister's silhouette, before finally resigning himself. He closed the door gently, and silence descended on the room.