Two months had elapsed since our mystic encounter at the God of Magic’s Temple. The morning air was brisk, filled with a sense of anticipation and the soft chatter of our little family. I watched over our preparations, ensuring nothing was amiss for the journey ahead.

“Does everybody have everything they will need packed up and ready?” I asked, my voice carrying a mix of excitement and responsibility.

“I have my stuffed animals ready, Mommy!” Windy, our daughter, exclaimed with glee, her arms wrapped around her beloved toys.

May, always the practical one, chuckled softly, “Hah-hah, Sweetie, that’s not what you will need on an adventure. You need to pack different kinds of clothes and food for the different forms of weather we will be facing.”

Windy’s eyes grew wide, a look of earnest pleading shaping her features. “Can I take at least 2, Mama May, please?” she asked, giving us her best puppy dog eyes.

May sighed, her resistance melting away under Windy’s gaze. “All right, very well, but only two, okay?”

“Yay, thank you, Mama May! I love you!” Windy’s voice rang with joy as she dashed off to make her difficult choice.

Turning to me, May intertwined our arms, a slight furrow in her brow. “I can’t seem to say no to that sweet daughter of ours. I think it's because she looks just like you did when you were her age, Dear.”

I could sense something more behind her words, a hidden weight in her heart. “What’s wrong, my Darling May? I can sense there’s something on your mind,” I inquired, my hand gently caressing her arm.

May hesitated, then her eyes met mine, filled with a storm of emotions. “I’m worried about whether I will actually be able to unlock my witch’s catalyst. I've been training non-stop for the past two months, but it feels as if I’m not making any progress. Sasha has discovered her affinity for physical enhancement magic, and Aria is making great strides with her light magic. I feel as if I am falling behind, and it scares me that I might not be able to help when it truly matters.”

Her vulnerability was palpable, and it tugged at my heartstrings. “Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, my concern for her evident in my voice.

She shook her head, a small, brave smile forming on her lips. “No, I don’t think so. This is something I have to do on my own. But thank you, my Dear, for always being here.”

I pulled her into a tight embrace, wanting to shield her from her doubts. “I have faith in you, My Darling May. You are strong and determined, and I know you will find your way. We are a team, remember? Whatever comes, we face it together.”

Her smile broadened, and she leaned into my embrace, finding comfort in our connection. It was a moment of quiet understanding, a shared strength that bound us together.

Our moment was cut short as Windy came bouncing back into the room, her decision made, clutching two stuffed animals to her chest. “I’m ready to go, Mommy!” she announced, her face beaming with excitement.

“Ha-ha, it seems you are, sweetheart. Can you go see if your Mama Sasha and Mama Aria are ready as well? We don’t want to be late for the school ceremony,” I replied, my heart swelling with love for our little family.

“Yes, Mommy!” Windy chirped before scampering off to find her other mothers.

Turning to May, I asked, “Are you ready for the start of our adventure party, my Darling?”

May’s eyes sparkled with a mix of love and resolve. “With you by my side, I am ready for anything, my Dear.”

The school ceremony was a flurry of excitement and anticipation. As the Headmistress spoke, outlining the formation of adventurers' parties through the academy's Adventures Guild, I felt a surge of excitement course through me. This was the beginning of something new, something grand.

Our little group - May, Sasha, Aria, Windy, and I - sat together, a unit among the throng of eager students. We listened intently, our minds racing with the possibilities that lay ahead.

As the ceremony concluded, we gathered our belongings, ready to embark on our adventure. It was then that Sister Maria approached us, a gentle but firm resolve in her demeanor.

“May I join your adventure party?” she asked, her voice tinged with both hope and earnestness.

I looked at my brides, seeing the acceptance in their eyes before turning back to Sister Maria. “Of course, we’d be honored to have you with us,” I replied warmly. “Your skills and experience will surely be a valuable addition to our group.”

Sister Maria’s face lit up with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Lady Emily. I look forward to serving and learning from you and your brides.”

As we journeyed away from the school, Sister Maria became an integral part of our group. Her presence brought a new perspective, her wisdom and experience enriching our adventure in ways we hadn't anticipated.

The conversations we shared during our travels revealed more about her than we could have guessed. Her choice to become a nun was driven by a deep desire to serve others, and discovering her affinity for dark magic had only strengthened her resolve.

“A nun with the ability to use dark magic? That’s quite rare,” Aria commented one evening as we sat around our campfire.

“Yes, it’s not common in our line of work,” Sister Maria agreed. “But I believe that magic is a tool, and like any tool, its morality is dictated by the hand that wields it.”

Her words resonated with us, challenging our preconceived notions about magic and its uses. Sister Maria’s perspective on the world, and the kindness with which she treated everyone, quickly endeared her to us.

Over the weeks, Sister Maria proved to be not just a wise and skilled mage but a caring and compassionate member of our family. Windy, in particular, grew close to her, often referring to her affectionately as ‘Auntie Maria.’

“I’m glad you joined us, Sister Maria,” I said one evening, reflecting on the journey so far. “You have been an invaluable asset to our group.”

Sister Maria blushed slightly at the praise. “I was hesitant at first. Dark magic has always been my specialty, and I wasn’t sure how it would be received or how useful it would be on a journey like this.”

Sasha, always quick to speak her mind, disagreed. “Your magic has been incredibly helpful. We’ve faced challenges that we couldn’t have overcome without your unique skills.”

As night fell and we settled in, Sister Maria often shared stories of her life in the convent and her dreams for the future. We listened, captivated by her experiences and insights, growing to respect and admire her even more.

But our peaceful evening was soon shattered. The crackling of twigs and the low murmurs of voices alerted us to danger. Bandits and dark wizards, drawn by the promise of easy prey, emerged from the shadows of the trees.

We sprang into action, our training kicking in as we faced the unexpected threat. Sister Maria stood with us, her dark magic weaving a protective barrier around Windy.

The battle was fierce, and despite our best efforts, we were outnumbered. In a split second of chaos, a curse flew towards me, its dark energy pulsating with malice. Sister Maria, seeing the danger, pushed me out of its path, taking the full brunt of the curse herself.

She fell to the ground, her body limp and lifeless. The sight of her there, sacrificed for my sake, ignited something within me.

“Maria...Maria...Mariaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!” My scream tore through the night, a mix of grief and fury fueling the dark magical power that erupted from within me. The ground trembled, and the air crackled with raw energy as my magic unleashed itself upon our attackers.

Sister Maria’s sacrifice had unleashed a part of me I never knew existed. The bandits and dark wizards were thrown back by the sheer force of my magical outburst, their bodies contorting in pain as they were engulfed in the dark energy I released.

As the last of my energy ebbed away, I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my face. My brides rushed to my side, their faces etched with concern and fear.

Windy clung to me, her small body shaking. “Mommy, what’s happening?” she whimpered, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose myself for her sake. “It’s okay, Windy. Everything’s going to be okay,” I whispered, holding her close, trying to believe my own words.

In the aftermath, we buried Sister Maria under a large oak tree, her final resting place marked by the serene beauty of nature. We stood around her grave, our hearts heavy with loss but also filled with gratitude for the time we had spent with her.

“We will never forget you, Sister Maria,” I said softly, my hand resting on the makeshift gravestone. Her bravery and kindness had touched us all, and in her memory, we vowed to continue our journey with the same courage and compassion she had shown us.

As we walked away from the gravesite, I took Windy's hand, leading her back to the safety of our camp. The loss of Sister Maria was a profound blow to us all, yet it also instilled a deeper sense of purpose and determination in our hearts. Sister Maria had shown us the true meaning of courage and sacrifice, and we were determined to honor her memory in our deeds and actions.