Devils Tied By A Flower

The sun had set, casting the field of flowers and the ruined orphanage into a shroud of darkness. The two lords, Caelum Avernal and Seraphina Crimsonvale, had silently agreed to remain at the site for the night. It was an unspoken truce born not of camaraderie, but of necessity.

Caelum stood at the edge of the field, his violet eyes watching the girl closely. Lyra's silver hair glimmered faintly in the moonlight as she wandered among the flowers, seemingly unbothered by the chill of the evening. He frowned, his thoughts a tumult of unanswered questions. Where does she sleep? What keeps her safe in this desolation?

Turning to one of the guards who had accompanied him, he issued a quiet command. "Send a raven to the manor. Inform them of the situation and instruct them to await further orders. For now, station yourselves near the perimeter and keep watch over the Crimsonvale camp."

The guards bowed in acknowledgment and dispersed, leaving Caelum momentarily alone. He approached Seraphina, who was preparing a makeshift camp beneath the remnants of an old oak tree.

"Crimsonvale," he said, his tone clipped but devoid of hostility. "Take the child in for the night. She can't be left out here."

Seraphina's crimson eyes flicked up to meet his, her expression unreadable. "And why not take her into your camp, Avernal?" she countered, her voice smooth but edged with challenge.

"Because you've already earned her trust," he replied simply. "Make use of it."

She studied him for a moment longer before letting out a soft huff. "Very well. But don't expect this to become a habit."

Seraphina beckoned to Lyra, who skipped over with a small smile. "Would you like to stay with me tonight?" she asked, her tone surprisingly gentle.

Lyra nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes! I've never had anyone to stay with before."

As Seraphina led her to the camp, she handed the girl a soft blanket. Lyra sat cross-legged near the fire Seraphina had kindled, her wide blue eyes reflecting the flames.

"Tell me, Lyra," Seraphina began, settling opposite her. "How do you live here, day and night, with no one around?"

Lyra tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "I just do. The flowers keep me company, and they tell me where to find food and water. Sometimes, they even warn me when there's danger."

Seraphina's brows furrowed slightly, but she kept her voice calm. "Warn you? Of what?"

The girl shrugged, twirling a strand of her silver hair. "I don't know. Shadows, maybe? But I listen to them, and they keep me safe."

The simplicity of her words unsettled Seraphina. The child spoke as though the flowers were alive, as though they possessed a sentience beyond the natural world.

Meanwhile, Caelum had set out from his camp, his steps purposeful and quiet as he moved through the shadows of the ruined orphanage. He scanned the area meticulously, his sharp eyes catching every detail: footprints worn into the dirt, the faint remnants of a path leading further into the woods, and the distant cry of nocturnal creatures.

Stopping by a collapsed wall, he knelt and examined the ground. His fingers brushed against an object half-buried in the dirt—a child's wooden toy, weathered and broken. His frown deepened. Other children were here once, he thought. But where are they now?

Rising to his feet, he signaled for one of his guards to join him. "Search the perimeter and report back anything unusual," he ordered. "No matter how small."

The guard nodded and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Caelum alone once more. He turned his attention to the woods bordering the field, his instincts prickling with unease. The silence here was too complete, too unnatural.

Back at the Crimsonvale camp, Seraphina was still speaking with Lyra, though the girl's answers only deepened the mystery. Lyra pointed to the stars above and said, "The flowers tell me stories about the sky, too. They say the stars are like flowers that never fade."

Seraphina's lips twitched into the barest hint of a smile. "That's a lovely thought," she murmured.

Lyra's gaze shifted to Seraphina. "You're like a flower, too," she said brightly. "But you're a rose. Pretty, but with thorns."

Seraphina chuckled softly, shaking her head. "And what about Lord Avernal? What kind of flower is he?"

Lyra giggled, her eyes sparkling. "He's not a flower. He's like a big, scary tree. Strong and quiet, but kind if you get close enough."

Seraphina glanced toward the field where Caelum's figure was just barely visible in the distance. Her expression softened for a fleeting moment before she turned back to Lyra. "Get some rest now," she said, tucking the blanket around the child. "Tomorrow, we'll figure out what to do next."

As the night deepened, the two camps settled into an uneasy stillness. Caelum continued his solitary search, his mind racing with possibilities. Meanwhile, Seraphina sat by the fire, her thoughts unexpectedly preoccupied. Lyra's earlier words lingered in her mind.

"And what about Lord Avernal? What kind of flower is he?" Lyra had asked, her innocent giggle echoing.

"He's not a flower. He's like a big, scary tree. Strong and quiet, but kind if you get close enough."

Seraphina had felt her cheeks grow warm, an unfamiliar sensation that infuriated her. Why was she thinking about him? Of all people—her sworn rival, the one she had clashed with countless times in battle, the very embodiment of everything she detested. She shook her head vehemently, scowling into the flames. Ridiculous, she told herself. There's nothing kind about that man.

Lyra, oblivious to her turmoil, had already fallen asleep, wrapped in the blanket Seraphina had given her. Seraphina sighed and leaned back against the tree, glaring at the distant figure of Caelum as though her gaze alone could set him ablaze. And all around them, the flowers swayed gently in the night breeze, their secrets buried in the shadows.