"Don't call me milady!" she cut him off sharply. "Call me Sophia! And besides, I am your work!"
In that instant, she thrust a Sanctus Scroll directly in his face, blocking his path. Seraph stared at the document in utter confusion. Ordinarily, a scroll remained in the practitioner's possession; he had never seen an outsider hold a mission document belonging to a magis of Sanctus.
"What is the meaning of this?" Seraph asked, staring at the scroll, uncomprehending.
"Open it and see, Mister Magis..." Sophia flashed a sweet, enigmatic smile.
Seraph cast a look of utter disbelief at the girl. Yet, he found himself powerless against the tide of curiosity. He snatched the Sanctus Scroll and unfurled it. To his astonishment, it was indeed a mandate assigned to him—an escort mission.
The mageia glyphs explicitly designated the task: to protect Sophia and Nahreb during their transit back to the Loveless Grand Opera. Furthermore, the registry of guardians listed but a single name: Seraph.
The Loveless Theatre was situated in the pulsing heart of the Capital, a fair distance from Jewel Hill on the fringes of Arkpolis. However, by carriage, the journey would take less than an hour.
"We are within the sovereign bounds of Arkflame," Seraph inquired, his suspicion flaring. "Why would you possibly need an escort?"
"Do you truly believe Arkpolis is that hallowed?" Sophia countered with razor-sharp conviction. "How else could Nahreb have been abducted if every corner of this city were truly safe?"
Seraph fell silent. He had once been a nameless orphan; though it had been years, he had scoured every vein of the Capital. Arkpolis was a realm of both radiant light and absolute sable. He had witnessed its filth firsthand. Often, beneath the most luminous districts, a nauseating darkness lay coiled and hidden.
"I won't refuse this mission... but I have one question for you first," Seraph stated, his head bowed, his voice resonant and deep.
"Speak..." Sophia replied with the smile of a victor.
"Who issued this mission to you?" Seraph pressed, his eyes narrowing with a heavy, pressurized intensity.
"Tee-hee! Don't you realize that my worshippers are scattered across every corner of the world?" Sophia giggled, her joy even more radiant than before.
"Sigh... a lead actress is truly a formidable entity," Seraph exhaled, finally surrendering to the whims of fate.
✧ . ✶ . ✡ . ✶ . ✧
Seraph sat inside the carriage with Sophia and Nahreb. The three of them sat in a shared silence, broken only by the velvet smoothness of the vehicle as it glided forward. The majestic vistas of Arkpolis flowed past the windows and silken curtains; occasionally, clusters of children would chase them, waving at the passing carriage.
Sophia was a master of discourse. She possessed a natural gift for breathing life into even the most tedious topics—whether it was the shifting weather or the state of Arkflame—transforming them into something vibrant and captivating.
Even though Nahreb remained eerily still, his gaze fixed on the vacant seat before him;
Even though Seraph offered little more than cold brevity to her banter;
Sophia still managed to keep the atmosphere colorful, weaving threads of thought and dialogue into every turn of the journey.
Before long, the carriage came to a halt before a majestic structure. Above, a grand sign declared: 'Loveless Grand Opera.'
It was the Grand Theatre of Arkflame, an edifice so immense it resembled a basilica more than a mere stage. The building rose higher than five stories and spanned a width greater than five manors combined. Its facade was guarded by towering white pillars, each intricately carved with grand, meticulous patterns. The sheer opulence of the place felt as though it could swallow an entire mansion whole.
The Loveless was designed with exquisite precision and a singular identity. The ascending staircases were so vast that humans seemed like mere specks upon them. Surrounding the entrance were posters of performers, rendered by the finest painters. Every inch of the theatre radiated the pinnacle of artistic achievement and the mageia of the arts.
As the carriage docked, an attendant rushed forward to swing the door open.
"Welcome back, Young Mistress, Young Master... The Goddess be praised that you are safe," Arvid said, letting out a heavy sigh of relief.
"Where is Father?" Sophia was the first to descend, her question sharp and authoritative.
"Err..." Arvid hesitated, the words catching in his throat.
"Is he not here?" Sophia pressed, her voice demanding the truth.
"The master has departed for a gala with..." Arvid cast a fleeting glance toward the young magis before continuing, "The gala hosted by Lord Barthus. Shall I send word to him? To let him know you've both returned safe and sound?"
"Don't bother. Even if he returns, he'd only get in the way of our rehearsals. Besides, Loveless runs far better in his absence," Sophia replied with chilling indifference.
She swept into the building with haste, her stride charged with authority. Her long skirt trailed across the floor like lavender clouds. Before long, Seraph and Nahreb followed in her wake.
Inside, they were greeted by the sight of a truly opulent theatre. The forecourt served as the ticketing zone, flanked by boutiques offering merchandise dedicated to the actors and the countless plays currently in production. Along the walls hung various mageia portraits, with Sophia's image reigning supreme among them. Further in stood several massive hall doors, shielding the palatial auditorium that housed the stage itself.
The Loveless was a Grand Theatre themed in crimson and gold. The stage was built to immense, professional standards, while the seating consisted of plush, oversized velvet chairs. Every corner was infused with a refined sense of luxury.
The interior felt as hallowed as a sacred basilica. At its zenith lay a golden dome adorned with fresco paintings of exquisite, intricate craftsmanship. The seating tiers spiraled upward, capable of accommodating two thousand spectators.
The sheer majesty of the architecture seemed to bind the very souls of its visitors, anchoring them to the theatre forever. The soaring ceilings, painted with depictions of deities, appeared as unreachable as a cosmic vision, while the light from a thousand crystal chandeliers danced upon the velvet curtains.
The interior of the grand hall was as stately as a royal castle—a monumental, celestial cavern shimmering in gold, designed to serve as a stage for the masters of the opera. Every inch was decorated with an opulence that rivaled a sovereign palace.
Seraph found it impossible to fathom how far this theatre might have evolved, or how much more immense it could have become, had they lived in an era of tranquility—if Laurasia were not besieged by the eternal demon war.
Near the stage, the air was thick with the frantic diligence of the crew. Groups of performers were clustered together, rehearsing their lines with a gravity that suggested they were already submerged in the world of the play.
The moment Sophia stepped into the grand hall, her persona underwent an instantaneous transformation.
When she was with Seraph, she was a willful girl, alternating between smiles and pouts; her moods shifted with a celerity that eclipsed the changing seasons. But as she entered the Loveless, she became a commander—fierce, aggressive, and serious to a fault.