FLASHBACK EPISODE 5

FLASHBACK EPISODE 5
Tessa's point of view

The man’s bootstep creaked on the wood above me, slow and certain. I could hear Jeremiah thrashing against the soldiers, yelling my name. I tried to press myself deeper into the shadows beneath the floorboards, but it was no use. He knew. He was coming for me.

The cold grip of his magic filled the room like a storm before lightning.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

And then the wind howled.

A flash of violet light burst through the slats, and the entire house shook. Wood splintered. The floor above me cracked. A deep roar of power threw the man backward through the front door.

Then I heard her voice.

“Tessa!”

The trapdoor above me flew open, and my mother reached down, her hair disheveled, her cloak torn. Magic shimmered in her eyes as she grabbed me and pulled me into her arms. I couldn’t stop sobbing.

“Mama,” I whimpered, clinging to her as she pulled Jeremiah beside us.

She looked at both of us—wild, terrified, determined. Her hands were trembling, but her voice was firm.

“You listen to me. Both of you. You have to go. Now.”

“What? No—” Jeremiah started, his voice breaking.

She grabbed a leather pouch from her belt and pushed it into his hand. “There’s money. Enough to get you through the lower provinces. You’ll go east. Stay off the roads. Don’t use names. Don’t trust anyone.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Mama, no—please come with us—”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.

“They’re here for her,” she said, barely above a whisper, her gaze flicking to me. “They’ll follow you if I go too. I need to hold them back.”

Jeremiah clutched her wrist. “We can’t leave you.”

“You must.” Her voice cracked. “Your father is already gone.”

My knees gave out.

I turned to look—past the smoke, past the bodies—and there he was.

My father, still and lifeless in the middle of the room. His hand was outstretched toward us, but his eyes no longer saw.

“Mama—” I tried to reach for him, but she pulled me back into her arms, holding me tighter than she ever had before.

“I love you,” she whispered into my hair, kissing my forehead. “You were born for more than this. Promise me you’ll keep each other safe.”

“I promise,” Jeremiah said, his voice raw.

She raised her hands, chanting words I didn’t understand. Magic swirled around us, thick and golden. It made my skin tingle, my lungs tighten.

“Close your eyes,” she said.

I didn’t.

I watched her until the last moment.

The light exploded around us, and I felt myself being lifted—wind roaring in my ears, the house spinning away beneath me.

When we landed, we were outside, behind the house, in the edge of the forest. I could still hear the chaos behind us—shouts, steel, fire.

Jeremiah pulled me to my feet.

But I couldn’t move.

The last thing I saw before he dragged me into the trees was the house—our home—bursting into flames.

The explosion lit the entire sky. Smoke curled into the heavens, thick and black. It swallowed everything. The soldiers near the blast were thrown like dolls. The shockwave knocked trees sideways. It was a spell my mother had never taught anyone else.

A final act of war.

A final act of love.

We ran.

Through the streets, over shattered cobblestones slick with blood. The village was unrecognizable—smoke, screams, broken walls. The place where we played hide-and-seek was gone. The training circle burned. The elders’ tower crumbled in the distance.

Jeremiah gripped my hand so hard it hurt. I stumbled, tripping on a piece of rubble, but he didn’t let go.

“We have to go,” he kept saying. “We can’t stop.”

I looked back once.

Just once.

The sky behind us glowed red and orange, the colors of fire and grief. The coven—the only home I had ever known—was gone. My mother’s spell had made sure they’d never find her body.

Somehow, I knew.

That was the last time I’d ever see her.

We didn’t speak for a long time after that. We just kept running, through alleyways slick with rain and ash, down hidden paths only Jeremiah remembered. The leather pouch she gave us was clutched in his hand, and it felt heavier than any treasure. Not because of the coins inside—but because it was all we had left of her.

By the time we reached the edge of the forest, my legs had given out.

Jeremiah stopped and knelt beside me, wrapping his arms around me as I broke down.

“I want to go back,” I sobbed. “We have to go back. What if she’s still alive? What if—”

He didn’t say anything.

Because we both knew.

We stayed like that, huddled between the trees, until the stars came out.

And even then, we didn’t look up.