The Town Hall of Fareday was a hive of bureaucracy. Usually, the stacks of parchment and the endless line of complaining merchants were enough to give Dominique Zennon a mild headache, but today the air felt particularly stagnant. She sat behind a massive mahogany desk, nodding patiently as a local grain trader droned on about tax exemptions for the upcoming festival.
Camila stood by her side, efficiently refilling a porcelain cup with chamomile tea. Everything was routine, everything was normal—until it wasn't.
Dominique's hand froze mid-air. Her fingers, which had been reaching for the tea, began to tremble. A second later, the porcelain cup slipped from her grasp, shattering against the stone floor. The tea splashed across her boots, but she didn't even blink.
The bustling hall went silent as the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Dominique?" Camila whispered, her heart skipping a beat. "What is it? A spill is nothing to—"
"They're gone," Dominique said, her voice a hollow, terrifying rasp.
"Who's gone? The merchants? They're right there—"
"My children," Dominique snapped, her eyes snapping open, glowing with a faint, predatory emerald light. "I can't feel them. The bond… it's been severed."
Camila's face went pale. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small brass compass—a magical tracking device linked to the signatures of Kirian and Liliana. The needle wasn't spinning; it was dead, lying flat against the glass as if the children no longer existed on this plane of reality.
"They aren't on the map," Camila breathed, her voice shaking. "But… that's impossible."
Dominique stood up slowly. The chair behind her screeched against the floor, and a low, rhythmic thrumming began to vibrate through the walls. "Camila," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "Where did they go?"
"They… they went to the Gustave Mansion," Camila stammered, backed against the desk by the sheer pressure of Dominique's presence. "I went there myself yesterday! I cleared the pests! I made sure it was safe for them to explore! I didn't think—"
"Safe?" Dominique's aura flared. A wave of terrifying green energy erupted from her, a visible tide of power that slammed into the walls of the congress hall. The massive building groaned, its foundations shaking as the magic barriers—designed to withstand siege engines—began to crack and spiderweb.
The town officials scrambled for cover, diving under desks as the ceiling tiles began to rain down.
"Get composed, Camila," Dominique commanded, though her own power was making the air hum with the scent of ozone and crushed leaves. "We are going to that mansion. Now. Get the flying carriage ready."
Camila didn't wait to be told twice. She bolted toward the balcony to summon the carriage pulled by the estate's giant eagles.
As Dominique marched toward the exit, her cloak billowing like a storm cloud, a wealthy merchant in a silk vest stepped into her path. He was red-faced and waving a scroll.
"Now see here, Madame Zennon! You cannot just end this meeting! I have been waiting three hours to discuss the wine tariffs, and I demand—"
Dominique didn't stop. She didn't even slow down. She merely turned her head, fixing him with a piercing, emerald gaze that felt like a physical weight on his chest.
"Out. Of. My. Way," she hissed.
The merchant turned purple. "Do you know who I am? I am the head of the trade guild! I will have you removed from—"
Dominique let out a sharp breath, and the world reacted. She unleashed a fraction of her true aura, and the stone floor beside the merchant disintegrated into fine dust. Massive, gnarled roots burst through the masonry, thick as tree trunks, twisting violently upward and nearly pinning the man to the wall. The entire hall rattled as if an earthquake had struck.
The witnesses gasped in terror, the older citizens suddenly remembering a detail that the peaceful years had let them forget: Dominique Zennon was not just a politician. She was the "Viridian Witch," the strongest mage in the Alerian Kingdom, a woman who had turned the tide of entire battles during the Great War.
The merchant looked at the crushing roots, then at the glowing eyes of the woman before him. He let out a soft, pathetic whimper and his trousers darkened as he collapsed to his knees, utterly defeated by fear.
Noticing the panic in the room, Dominique took a deep, steadying breath. The green fire in her eyes receded, and the shaking of the building subsided, though the air remained heavy.
"My apologies for the… interruption," she said to the room at large, her voice cold as ice. "But my children are in danger. And the world tends to burn when I am worried."
The screech of giant eagles echoed from the balcony. Camila arrived, steering the gilded carriage as the massive birds beat their wings against the town hall's pillars.
Dominique stepped onto the carriage without a word. With a sharp crack of the reins, they took off, a streak of gold and feathers soaring through the sky toward the dark silhouette of the Gustave Mansion.
[End of Episode 6]