1: Floris
(Three years ago)
The quiet of my home, broken only by the chirping of crickets.
I slowly opened my eyes, disoriented, my hands outstretched before me — reaching for something I couldn't remember.
A hollow sigh slipped from my lips as I let my hand fall heavily onto my forehead.
Then, a strange sensation.
Water — trickling from the corner of my eye.
I sat up abruptly, confusion swirling in my chest. I touched my cheek with trembling fingers, staring at the dampness in disbelief.
Why... was I crying?
That hollow, haunting sensation gnawed at me again—an aching certainty that I had forgotten something.
Something that had scarred me so deeply, the memory itself had been buried beyond reach.
Throwing aside the blanket, I climbed out of bed and moved toward the vision board mounted right in front of me.
The board was a chaotic mess of strings, photographs, articles—all centered around a single face.
My fingers brushed against the photo of a girl, taped right at the center, as if drawn to her.
A whisper escaped me, filled with quiet longing and uncertainty.
"Does it have something to do with you?" I murmured.
The strings connected her to dozens of leads—painstakingly collected over the years—but the bigger picture remained maddeningly incomplete.
Answers remained just out of reach.
"...Sister?"
Before the tears could fall again, I forced myself to move.
I needed a distraction—anything to escape the crushing weight inside my chest.
I headed to the bathroom and began filling the tub with warm water, adding the milk just as Mom always insisted.
It was one of her strange habits, one of the many things she drilled into me: "Take care of your body. Keep it perfect. You're special."
I never really understood it.
Maybe it was about appearances.
Maybe it was something more.
I just follow her without question though.
I sank into the cloudy water, letting it envelop me, hoping it would wash away the invisible cracks splintering inside me.
As the milk-scented steam rose around me, I closed my eyes and whispered, almost pleadingly, to the silence:
"What am I forgetting?"
I must've dozed off for a while, lulled by the warmth of the water, when a sudden knocking jolted me awake.
Knock-knock-knock!
The rhythmic pattern wasn't random—it was deliberate, familiar.
Mom.
I climbed out of the tub, quickly wrapping myself in a robe. By the time I made it to my room, she was already there, waiting.
I sighed. "Did you unlock my door again using your keys?"
She grinned mischievously, jingling the keys in front of my face.
"If I have them, why wouldn't I use them?"
Without waiting for permission, she stepped forward and enveloped me in a warm, familiar hug.
"Did you bathe in milk like I told you so?" she asked, inhaling deeply, her nose twitching with satisfaction.
When I nodded, she beamed. "Good. I'm so glad you visited this lonely old mother of yours."
"Mom," I said, annoyed but smiling, "I always stay here when I have time. You know that. You're all I have left, anyway."
She chuckled and pulled back, teasing, "That's because you don't have a boyfriend yet."
A mock sob escaped her lips as she dramatically wiped away an invisible tear.
"If I'm gone, what will you do?"
I rolled my eyes, a soft laugh escaping despite myself.
"Mom... We've talked about this."
Still, the playful warmth in the room couldn't completely erase the heavy, unspoken truth lingering between us.
"But anyway," I continued, smoothing down my robe, "I'll be leaving later. My day off's over. I need to get back to work."
She sighed dramatically, her eyes glistening with mock tears.
"You're such a workaholic, Kaelynn Sinclair. Don't you ever think about settling down? Finding someone to share your life with?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes slightly, a small smile tugging at my lips.
"Mom, I'm still 22 and he'll come when he comes. Until then, I'll wait."
She huffed, crossing her arms.
"You're saying that excuse again—" she began, her voice already laced with a familiar exasperation.
I lifted a hand, gently cutting her off.
"Mom, I need to change. Can you head downstairs and have your breakfast? I'll be down in a minute with my things."
She opened her mouth—probably to protest again—but thought better of it. With a dramatic sigh, she threw her hands up in surrender.
"Fine, fine. But don't think this conversation is over, young lady!"
I chuckled softly as she finally retreated, the sound of her slippers fading down the hall.
As soon as the door closed behind her, my smile slipped away.
For a moment, I just stood there, feeling the weight of a loneliness even my mother's warmth couldn't fully erase.
My name is Kaelynn Sinclair, 22 years of age.
Since my 12th birthday, I've worked as a secret agent for Floris, an international covert organization.
A family connection fast-tracked my entry. The first two years were spent in rigorous training—a process that usually took four to six—but thanks to my prior martial arts and self-defense skills, that mom made me took. Also, my innate strong magic skill, I finished early.
By fourteen, I was already deployed on active field duty.
I was young, too young but I needed to do it.
My sole reason for joining Floris?
To find justice for my sister.
I quickly changed into my usual attire—black shorts, a white crop top, and a black leather jacket—then headed down to join Mom for breakfast.
After a warm meal filled with light teasing and laughter, I headed out and tossed my bag into my customized white McLaren 720S and hit the road.
Thanks to diplomatic immunity—and a healthy disregard for speed limits—I shaved four hours off the usual six-hour drive to the Floris base, nestled deep within a secluded forest.
The base's perimeter was protected by a sophisticated barrier—a failsafe that redirected unauthorized individuals to harmless remote locations.
A massive gate, ringed by surveillance cameras and hidden sensors, stood before me. Two tall posts rose from the ground, scanning my car and me from every possible angle. Floris kept detailed records on every agent, information locked down so tightly that even governments couldn't touch it.
"Welcome back, Agent Iris," a calm AI voice greeted me as the scan concluded.
The gate swung open with a low hum, revealing a long road leading toward a gleaming glass tower on the horizon.
Rows of towering elms lined the path, their leaves fluttering under the hidden lampposts and ever-watchful security eyes.
As I drove through, I passed a group of new recruits jogging under the strict gaze of a supervising officer.
"Agent Iris!" they called out in unison, some waving enthusiastically. "Welcome back"
I smiled and waved back, their bright faces a reminder of my own grueling early days. Their heavy breathing and stumbling steps contrasted sharply with the effortless precision I'd been molded into.
Finally reaching the agent's private parking lot, I eased my McLaren into a spot and stepped out, my boots clicking sharply against the polished ground.
Above the main building, the Floris logo—sleek, simple, and silver—gleamed proudly.
Inside, a chorus of greetings met me as I entered.
"Welcome back, Agent Iris!"
I returned their salutes warmly, acknowledging everyone, though those in royal blue, deep purple, or gold uniforms—our elite officers—barely glanced my way.
Their presence was rare in the lobby, they would mostly be found on the higher floors of the building and yet... today, the air buzzed with their activity.
Something was definitely up.
Before I could investigate further, a service robot rolled toward me, offering assistance with my bag.
I handed it over with a polite thanks—despite knowing it wasn't programmed to respond to pleasantries—and continued on.
I was almost at my quarters when someone practically tackled me.
"Iris, you're back!"
Agent Lavender, with her signature lavender hair and sparkling purple eyes, threw herself into a hug.
Laughing, I patted her head fondly.
"Lavender, you're stronger than you look. Ease up, or I might not survive long enough to finish my mission."
She pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"You say that every time! But seriously, you came back at the perfect time."
I lifted an eyebrow.
"Oh? Something big happening?"
Her playful grin widened.
"Yeah. Let's talk about the upcoming Blooming Hierarchy tonight. You'll want to hear this."
"Let me just change first," I said, reaching for my bag.
Before I could take a step, Lavender stopped me, her hands pressing lightly—though a little too hard—against my chest. I let out a low groan.
"Oh, shoot, sorry! I forgot you're an E-cup," she said, laughing as she pulled her hands back, her purple eyes dancing with amusement.
I rolled my eyes at her. "Seriously, Lavender?"
She only grinned wider. "You can change later. Come on, let's go!"
Resigning myself to her energy, I quickly instructed the robot to deliver my luggage to my quarters. It beeped in acknowledgment and rolled away, leaving me to trail after Lavender.
As we walked through the bustling halls, she filled me in on the upcoming Blooming Hierarchy—Floris' agent ranking and awards ceremony. It was basically a high-stakes event where the top agents would be recognized... and where your status could skyrocket—or crumble.
Just as we rounded a corner, the brooch on Lavender's blazer caught the light and shimmered softly—an unmistakable signal.
She glanced down and sighed dramatically. "Duty calls," she said, already backing away. Then she grinned and shot me a wink. "Catch you later, Iris. After you win first place—the Lotus Rank."
I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head as she darted off down the hall, her hair bouncing with every step.
I laughed to myself, the sound light and a little shaky with excitement. Then I stood up and headed to change into my agency uniform.
When I reached my quarters, I found the uniform I'd left behind still hanging neatly in the closet—untouched, almost like it had been waiting for me.
The Floris agent uniform was surprisingly stylish for something so functional.
For women, it consisted of a sturdy ivory A-line skirt over form-fitting leggings, made from a specialized material tough enough to withstand almost anything.
The fitted white collared shirt felt sleek against my skin, durable yet breathable, and over it went the crisp ivory blazer. Silver metallic prints curled along the collar, sleeves, and hems—elegant but not just for show.
Those designs were actually hidden sensors, monitoring everything from heart rate to body temperature to internal injuries. They could even detect poison in our systems.
(Of course, I don't really get why they go to such lengths. I mean, nearly everyone can use magic. Shouldn't we be able to sense when something's wrong in our own bodies?)
All of it linked back to the Intelligence Office through the brooch we pinned to our left chest—a tiny, elegant lifeline.
(Then again… maybe that's the reason. Headquarters is just scared for us. We're out there risking everything, and this is their way of watching over us.)
The final touch was my knee-high boots, polished and practical, offering protection without sacrificing comfort.
My fingers brushed the flower pin fastened to my lapel—a crowned flower, gleaming proudly. Our ranks at Floris were marked by these tiny blooms.
New recruits started with no pin. Complete a few E-rank missions, and you earned a bud. Move up through D, C, B, and A missions, and petals were added with each level.
But beyond those... beyond even the fully bloomed pins... were the rare sunflower pins, awarded only to agents who completed the near-impossible S-rank missions. Only the elite wore them—Chiefs, Captains, and a handful of legends among us.
I smiled, spinning once in front of the mirror and striking a few dramatic poses, just because I could. There was something about this uniform—it made you stand a little taller, feel a little stronger.
After a few more silly poses, I gave myself a quick, determined nod.
"The Floralis Festival's coming up... and the Blooming Hierarchy is next," I said under my breath, feeling the fire light up inside me. "Time to claim that Lotus Rank."
...