Chapter 39 — Fragile Flower

Maya takes a deep breath, mentally steeling her resolve as she peeks around the corner to where her father is visible. He stands there, his broad shoulders slightly slumped and his face etched with lines of worry, staring out at the horizon with a weary expression. He seems lost in thought, the weight of the impending danger clearly weighing heavily on his mind.

 

"Father?" Maya's voice is soft, hesitant.

 

Her father startles slightly at the sound of her voice, turning with a sharp inhale—his expression shifting from weary concern to immediate, almost instinctive protectiveness. His dark eyes narrow as they land on Maya. 

 

"What are you doing here?" he demands, "I told you to stay inside."  

 

Maya stiffens under his gaze but squares her shoulders defiantly. "I came out because I need to talk to you," she says firmly, "About those bandits approaching our village."

 

Her father's expression hardens at the mention of the bandits, his jaw tensing visibly. He studies her for a moment before sighing heavily and scrubbing one hand over his face—an almost exhausted gesture.  

 

"I see," he mutters after a moment, "And I suppose you're going to tell me you want to help out. Again."

 

Maya lets out a huff of exasperated breath, her tail flicking irritably behind her. She crosses her arms over her chest defiantly, her expression both stubborn and pleading.

 

"You're damn right I do," she says firmly, "Those bandits are a threat to our home and they need to be taken care of. And I can help. I'm not some fragile flower that needs protecting all the time."

 

Maya's father sighs heavily, his expression softening just a little. He rubs his jaw, a tired gesture born from both age and years of worry.

 

"You think I don't know that," he mutters, "...You think I don't see how strong you're getting. But what you don't understand is that I'm trying to protect you from getting hurt, just like I couldn't protect your mother and sister."

Maya bristles faintly at that, her ears flattening in irritation. She takes a step closer, her voice firm but tinged with a hint of pleading.

 

"Father, you know I'm strong. You've seen it yourself," she presses, "But keeping me hidden away and forcing me to read books is not the way to protect me. I need to be out there, using my power to defend our home and the people I care about. You need to let me fight."

 

Maya's father flinches like she’s struck him. His expression flickers between pain and frustration before settling into something dangerously quiet.

 

"You think this is about control?" he snaps, voice low but sharp."I trained you because I wanted you safe—not because I expected you to throw yourself into battle the second a threat appears!"

 

A muscle in his jaw twitches as he glares down at her, the weight of years of grief pressing heavily behind his words."Your sister died protecting others. Do not make me watch history repeat itself."

 

Maya recoils slightly at the harsh words, stung by the raw, unmasked pain in her father's voice. But she doesn't back down, meeting his glare with a determined glint in her eyes.

 

"So what am I supposed to do then?!" she demands, "Hide and hope for the best while others risk their lives?!" 

 

She takes another step closer, her hands clenching into fists—half out of anger, half out of sheer desperation."You can't keep me locked up forever!"

 

The sudden rise in Maya's voice draws the attention of nearby demi-humans—a few rabbits freeze mid-step, their long ears twitching toward her. A few whisper among themselves, glancing warily between Maya and her father.

 

Her father’s expression darkens further at the display of his daughter losing control like this. His voice drops to a low growl—dangerous in its quietness. "You embarrass me," he snaps, "Do you want all these people watching as you scream at your own blood?"

 

Maya flushes faintly in embarrassment as she realizes the growing attention on them. She fixes her glasses and takes a moment to compose herself, her expression shifting from defiant to faintly uncomfortable under the eyes of the other passersby.

 

"No," her voice is quieter now, her shoulders slumping a bit, "I'm sorry..."

 

She sighs, looking torn between irritation and exhaustion all of a sudden. She hesitates before looking up to lock eyes with her father one last time. "But I'm still going to help. With or without your blessing."

 

Her father's expression hardens at her words, a flicker of hurt and anger crossing his face before he schools it back into cold disapproval. He doesn’t reach out to stop her—just watches with that same guarded pain in his eyes.

 

"Then go," he mutters, "But don't come crying to me when you realize how much stronger the real world is than your books."

 

Maya flinches slightly but doesn’t turn around as she stalks off, tail lashing behind her. The whispers of nearby demi-humans follow in her wake like a heavy shadow.

 

The moment Maya disappears down the path, her father's rigid posture sags—just slightly. His hands clench at his sides, knuckles whitening as if trying to physically hold back the flood of memories.

 

His mind flashes back—years ago. A raid by human soldiers in full force, their steel gleaming under moonlight as they tore through their home without mercy, fire burning through their home like a hellish glow. The screams of people fill the air like a twisted chorus of terror. In the midst of it all, her father clutches baby Maya desperately to his chest, fighting for his life as he dodges arrows and blades meant to cut through flesh.  

 

"You have to run!" a female voice yells from somewhere in the chaos. "Take her and go!"

 

His eyes widen—a desperate plea of protest stuck in his throat as his wife's voice cuts through the madness. Her figure was barely visible through the smoke, fighting a losing battle alongside her older daughter.

 

"NO!" he screams, "WE CAN FIGHT!" 

 

Her laugh, bittersweet and resigned in the face of the inevitable. "We're outnumbered. You know that! You have to get her somewhere safe!"  

 

His eyes fall on the tiny girl in his arms and something in his expression hardens and softens all at once.

 

His grip tightens around the baby who stares up at him with wide, scared eyes.

 

"I can't leave you here, Maylee" he whispers, though the words feel like a lie even as the fight still rages around them. His voice catches, cracking with a raw emotion. "What if I can't find you again?!"

His wife's eyes are sad but she smiles anyway, a small, bittersweet lift at the corner of her mouth. "You will," she promises, her voice unwavering despite her exhaustion. "You always find us."

 

The older daughter, Maelys—still barely more than a girl herself—whirls around with her sword raised, sweat streaking down her face as she shoves another threat back with a furious snarl. 

 

"Stop wasting time, Matej!" she yells at their father, voice cracking under the strain of battle and fear. "Mom’s buying us seconds to run! If you don’t go NOW, Maya dies here tonight!  

 

The words hit like a blade between ribs. He looks down at the tiny bundle in his arms—their baby sister's whimpers barely audible over the roar of flames—and something in him finally breaks. 

 

With one last agonized glance toward his wife who gives him one sharp nod, he turns and runs into the smoke without looking back.

 

Then... everything went quiet.

 

The sight of the weapon being activated—a bright burst of light even through the smoke—is enough to freeze Maya's father in his tracks.

 

He turns just in time to see the beam of energy streak through the air like a shooting star, colliding with the horde of the crowd. The resulting explosion knocks him off-balance, dropping to one knee as it shakes the very ground they stand on. For a long moment, everything goes quiet. 

 

He holds his breath, holding Maya to his chest like his life depends on it.

 

Maya's father—Matej—staggers slightly as the memory slams back into him with brutal clarity. His breath hitches, hands trembling around nothing now that baby Maya is long grown. He looks almost lost, a man haunted by what could've been if things had played out differently. He sighs again, his voice rough.

 

"They... they were still there," he whispers hoarsely, "When that explosion hit..."

 

A muscle in his jaw jumps violently as he forces himself to meet empty air where their bodies should have been. "I didn't even get to see if they were alive before I ran."  

 

The guilt is a living thing—gnawing at him for years until it became part of his bones. And yet here stands Maya, very much alive and fighting just like her sister did all those years ago... and he can't bear the thought of losing another child to a battle.

 

Ace leans against the village gate, arms crossed and eyes scanning the horizon. The weight of her katana at her side is a familiar comfort as she waits for Maya to return from what was clearly a heated argument.

 

Her fingers tap impatiently against her arm—each second stretching longer than necessary. She exhales sharply through gritted teeth when there's still no sign of movement in that direction.

 

"Tch," she mutters under her breath, "If she’s backing out now, I swear I’ll—"

 

The sound of rapid footsteps cuts off whatever threat was about to follow that sentence before it can fully form.

 

Ace's brow arches sharply as Maya jogs toward her, waving with an almost cheerful energy while holding a staff, completely at odds with the tension that had been hanging over the village just moments ago.

 

"What took you so long," Says Ace as her eyes soften "Did you convince him or did he knock sense into you instead?"  

 

Maya skids to a stop in front of her, grinning like she’s won some kind of victory. Her bunny ears are perked up excitedly behind her glasses. "He caved!" she announces, "Guess I'm coming with after all."

 

Ace's eyebrows rise in surprise before she smirks faintly in slight approval. "Finally got that rabbit spine, huh?" 

 

Maya laughs faintly at that, her ears flicking in amusement. "...More like he didn't have much of a good comeback," she says, her smile faltering faintly, "But don't tell him that." 

 

She sighs faintly, looking almost guilty as she taps the staff against the ground absently. "He still wanted me to stay, of course. Even tried the whole 'I can't lose another child' speech."

 

Ace’s smirk vanishes instantly, her expression shifting into something unreadable—somewhere between shock and a sudden, sharp understanding. Her grip on the hilt of her katana tightens reflexively.

 

"He what?" Her voice is low—dangerously so. "...So he let you come because he thinks you'll die out there too? That's not permission. That's him giving up."  

 

Maya flinches slightly at Ace’s tone but nods anyway. "Yeah... basically," she mutters, "But it doesn't matter! I'm here now and I'm not backing down."

 

Ace’s expression darkens further, a flicker of something fierce, almost protective passing through her pink eyes before she schools it back into cold focus.  

 

"Then we don’t wait for them," she says flatly, "If he wants to stand there and watch you from the sidelines like some tragic statue, fine. But you're coming with me." 

 

She pushes off the gate abruptly and jerks her chin toward where distant shouts echo—the bandits nearing their borders at last. "We move now. And when this is over... I'm having words with your father myself."

 

Maya hesitates for a beat, almost apprehensive about the notion of her friend confronting her father—before her expression sets into something stubborn. She nods firmly, determination written across every feature until even her ears seem to perk up in agreement.

 

"Fine by me." she grips her staff firmly and sets her jaw. "Let's give these guys an ass-kicking they won't forget. And then you can yell at my dad all you want."

 

Ace's smirk returns as she notes the stubborn gleam in Maya's eyes—her grip tightening around her katana in turn. "Sounds like a plan to me," she says with a laugh. "I'm looking forward to giving that old man a piece of my mind. Might even give him a few new gray hairs."

 

"But first..."She cocks her head slightly—an almost feral gleam in her eyes. "Let's go kick some ass."

 

Maya laughs at that but nods in agreement nonetheless. A spark in her eyes—almost eager. "They're not going to know what hit them."

 

She readies her staff, her grip firm as she matches Ace's fierce grin with her own. "Let's do this."

 

Ace nods faintly in a wordless agreement and the two push off the gate together, jogging toward the distant battle cries.