The Dread of Damned

Elara entered her mother's room, her eyes catching the sight of Seraphina sitting on the bed, clad in a silver silk gown that clung to her soft curves.

"Come here, my child," her mother said gently, motioning her closer.

Elara moved to the edge of the bed and sat down, her posture calm but questioning.

"Why did you call for me, Mother?" Elara asked, her voice soft and measured.

"Do I need a reason to want to see my lovely little girl?" Seraphina responded with a warm smile.

"No, of course not, but I feel like there's a reason this time." Elara's gaze remained steady, but there was an edge of curiosity in her tone.

Seraphina patted her thigh. "I did want to spend time with my daughter, yes, but perhaps you're right. Come, rest your head here. You're still my little girl."

There was a moment of hesitation, but Elara finally lowered her head onto her mother's soft, comforting thighs. As Seraphina's fingers began to comb through her hair, Elara could feel her tension start to ebb away.

"How have you been, my child?" Seraphina asked, her tone soothing.

"I've been fine, Mother. There's nothing to worry about," Elara replied, her voice steady, but evasive.

"You look fine, but a mother can sense when something is weighing on her child's mind," Seraphina said gently.

Elara shifted slightly. "It's nothing, really."

"Now, now. One shouldn't lie to their mother—that's a bad habit," her mother chided softly, her fingers never stopping their gentle rhythm through Elara's hair. "Tell me, why do you push yourself so hard with all this constant training?"

Elara hesitated. "Do I need any reason beyond wanting to grow stronger?"

Seraphina's voice was patient, probing. "You've always trained, but lately, it's been... obsessive. There must be more to it."

Finally, Elara gave in, her voice quieter now. "I want to protect my brother, to make sure I'm not a burden when he returns, awakened."

"Why would you think you'd be a burden?" Seraphina asked, her tone softening with concern.

"I couldn't finish off that assassin—it was Cael who found his weakness. I've always thought if I had been stronger, he wouldn't have had to get hurt." The confession spilled out, tinged with frustration. "Now he'll return even more powerful. What else am I, if not a burden?"

Seraphina sighed softly. "Those are your own fears speaking. Your brother loves you, loves us. You don't need to prove anything to him."

"I hope you're right." Elara's voice softened again. "But it's more than that. His absence... it makes me feel so alone. Training helps me keep my mind off it."

Seraphina's hand stilled briefly, before continuing its soothing strokes. "I'm not telling you to stop, Elara. Just remember to rest. We may be Nocturnals, but even we are not immune to exhaustion—physical or mental."

Elara looked up, puzzled. "But Nocturnals heal fast. We don't tire easily like humans."

"True, but stress can affect the mind more than the body. A scattered mind can never achieve great heights. Remember, composure is key," her mother advised, her voice steady.

Elara hesitated before asking her next question, her eyes now searching her mother's face. "Mother, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, child."

"Why did my brother confine that woman? Why does he... hurt her so?" Elara's tone was tentative, unsure.

Seraphina's expression darkened ever so slightly. "Her husband was responsible for endangering both you and your brother. Cael's punishment is just."

"Then why not kill her like the families of traitors are supposed to be? Why imprison her?" Elara's voice was curious, but also hesitant.

"She begged your brother for mercy, and he granted it," Seraphina explained, her tone calm but instructive.

"But she suffers... Wouldn't death have been an easier release?" Elara pressed, frowning. "Was her crime truly so great?"

Seraphina's eyes darkened. "She suffers for the one she pleaded to save. But now, I suspect, she realizes that death would have been far kinder. And yes, her crime was unforgivable."

"What was her crime?" Elara asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"She was in the wrong place at the wrong time... expecting mercy from the wrong person," her mother answered, her soft voice now tinged with a dark undercurrent.

"But that's not a crime, Mother. She was just... naïve," Elara protested, confused.

"And that," Seraphina's tone turned cold, "is the gravest crime of all in our world. Being naïve can get you killed—or worse, land you in the hands of monsters. Our world is filled with twisted monsters, Elara." She cupped her daughter's cheeks, locking eyes with her. "Never be naïve. Never."

A tremor passed through Elara's body. "Would my brother ever hurt me too?" Her voice wavered.

Seraphina's face softened instantly. "No, my dear. He will never hurt you, unless... you ask him to. We are his family, Elara. He loves you." Her voice was gentle but firm, reassuring the girl as if etching the truth into her mind.

Elara nodded slowly. "I will always support him. I will never be a burden."

Seraphina's voice dropped lower, coaxing yet certain. "You need to be ready for when he returns, my love. When that time comes, you will give yourself to him completely—your purity, your heart, everything will be his, just as mine will be."

"I understand, Mother. I will give him everything." Elara's voice was resolute as she hugged her mother tightly.

In that moment, the two women sat on the grand bed—the young, athletic daughter nestled in the arms of the mature, soft-bodied mother. Seraphina's eyes gleamed with silver satisfaction, a quiet smile playing on her lips, as if she had just accomplished something profound.