[Realm: Uhorus]
[Location: Verdantis]
[Capital City]
Lucinda blinked once, then again, as if a second look would sohow make the scene before her less absurd.
It did not.
The large bed remained firmly lodged into the thick stone wall of the hallway, half embedded at an awkward angle. Splintered wood and torn velvet sheets hung from the cracked fra while dust slowly drifted through the cold castle air. One leg of the bed twitched before finally snapping loose and clattering onto the carpet below.
For a long mont, nobody spoke.
Fiona’s ears twitched sharply beneath the ornants covering them, her salmon-pink eyes narrowing as she stared at the destroyed furniture with visible disbelief. Victoria looked no less confused, though unlike Fiona, there was amusent creeping into her expression, the corners of her lips threatening to curl upward.
Lyra rely stared at the bed with the exhausted expression of soone who had already dealt with this exact situation several tis today.
A small sigh escaped the Court Mage.
"You prude! You cannot keep confined to this space against my will!" a youthful yet shrill voice exclaid from deeper within the room beyond the shattered doorway.
The indignation in the voice echoed through the hallway.
Victoria tilted her head slightly toward the now doorless room, one brow lifting with poorly concealed interest. "Well, soone seems quite lively."
"Lively is certainly a word for it," Lyra murmured under her breath.
Lucinda glanced toward the Court Mage imdiately after hearing that tone. There was sothing strangely familiar about the exhaustion in Lyra’s eyes now. It was a deeply personal fatigue of soone forced to babysit.
The three followed after Lyra as she approached the ruined doorway.
Another voice suddenly rang out from inside the room, smoother and imdiately recognizable.
"Perhaps you shall be allowed outside once you display even a modicum of maturity. But judging by current events, that appears well beyond your present capabilities."
Lucinda’s eyes widened slightly.
"...Is that...?" she started quietly.
Fiona and Victoria both visibly stiffened as realization crossed their faces as well.
They ca to a stop before the destroyed entrance.
The room beyond was enormous.
Far too luxurious to rely be called a simple chamber.
Another massive bed rested near the far wall beneath flowing red curtains threaded with gold. Elegant white wardrobes lined one side of the room, polished to such perfection they reflected the chandelier light overhead. The chandelier was alight with a violet illumination, casting light across the expansive chamber. A richly woven violet carpet stretched across the floor while expensive decorations sat carefully arranged atop shelves and tables.
And then there were the stuffed dolls.
Far too many stuffed dolls.
Dozens of them.
Bears, rabbits, wolves, cats, creatures Lucinda did not even recognize—all piled atop the bed in overwhelming excess.
It was cute, disturbingly cute and completely at odds with the tension in the room. But none of those things held their attention for long.
Lucinda’s gaze slowly shifted forward.
Then stopped entirely.
Her breath caught.
There were two occupants within the room.
One was imdiately recognizable.
Their own Court Mage of Galadriel.
Guinevere stood near the center of the room with the sa elegance Lucinda had co to expect from her. Her dark violet hair was tied into a simple yet refined ponytail while a sleek black dress draped neatly over her figure. Long elegant gloves covered her pale arms, and despite the destroyed doorway and embedded bed re feet away, her posture remained unbothered.
As though this entire situation was rely mildly inconvenient.
But even Guinevere was not what held their attention.
No, it was the other girl.
Lucinda found herself staring before she could stop herself.
The girl possessed a beauty so striking it almost felt unreal at first glance. Snow-white hair frad her face, styled into a slightly ssy updo that sohow only enhanced her appearance rather than diminishing it. Red eyes stared back with intensity, deep and vibrant like fresh blood.
She looked young.
Perhaps only a year or two older than herself. Yet there was sothing deeply unnatural about her.
The girl wore a black corset fitted perfectly against her form while a ruffled black lace collar wrapped elegantly around her neck. At its center rested a crimson teardrop jewel that imdiately drew the eye. Detached sleeves wrapped around her arms, black fabric lined with red trim and tied together by ribbons, leaving her shoulders exposed.
Beautiful and terrifyingly familiar.
Lucinda’s eyes narrowed instinctively.
Transformation magic.
That had been her first assumption, it had to be. But almost imdiately she discarded the thought.
There was no magical distortion, illusion or transmutation.
Nothing.
Lucinda could feel magic exceptionally well. Any active transformation spell would have been obvious to her instantly. But there was absolutely nothing altering the girl before them, which ant what they were seeing was real.
The realization hit her all at once.
Fiona inhaled sharply beside her.
Victoria’s smile disappeared entirely.
Lyra quietly observed their reactions without interrupting.
Lucinda stared at the white-haired girl in silence as sothing slowly settled into her chest.
That familiar essence buried beneath the surface, her mouth parted slightly before words finally escaped.
"Another spawn of Octavia."
The room beca very quiet after that.
The white-haired girl blinked once before pointing directly at Lucinda with imdiate accusation.
"You!"
Her voice carried sudden excitent now.
"You’re the one radiating that irritatingly familiar feeling!"
Lucinda stiffened. "Excuse ?"
Guinevere imdiately pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Please refrain from referring to resonance as ’irritating,’" the Court Mage sighed tiredly.
"But it is irritating," the girl huffed, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "It feels like standing near a mirror that keeps glaring at ."
Victoria slowly glanced toward Lyra. "You neglected to ntion there was another spawn of Octavia hidden inside Verdantis’ capital."
Lyra looked entirely unapologetic.
"It slipped my mind."
"It slipped your—"
"To be fair," Lyra continued calmly, "this is not sothing one would believe. And as you can see, she is rather bratty."
"I can hear you, old woman!"
Lyra’s eye twitched slightly.
Fiona, anwhile, had not taken her eyes off the girl once.
"I-I don’t understand..." Fiona’s voice ca out quieter than intended, almost uncertain as the Solkari stared fixedly at the white-haired girl before them. Her ears twitched sharply, her eyes narrowing as though trying to forcibly unravel the scene through scrutiny alone. "This is just so transformation magic, right?"
The question lingered in the lavish room.
The white-haired girl imdiately frowned at the remark.
"As if I would need to resort to so diocre magic to fake my appearance," she huffed sharply, folding her arms beneath her chest with visible irritation. Her red eyes carried an edge to them, proud and cutting in a way that strangely reminded Lucinda of herself at her worst monts during the phase. "And honestly, if I wished to deceive you, I could certainly do better than standing here arguing about it."
Fiona’s confusion only deepened.
Victoria at least masked hers considerably better, though Lucinda noticed the small narrowing of the blonde’s eyes. The older girl was studying Alyssia carefully now, not with disbelief anymore, rely with observation. As though attempting to place together pieces of a puzzle she had not even realized existed until today.
Lucinda anwhile could not tear her gaze away.
Her chest felt tight.
Because she understood now why the mont she entered the room had unsettled her so violently.
"She’s right..." Lucinda finally murmured after several long seconds, her voice quieter than usual. Her eyes remained fixed on Alyssia’s face. "I don’t know how... but that mana... it’s exactly the sa as mine."
Lucinda subconsciously pressed a hand lightly against her chest.
It was unsettling.
No, more than unsettling, it felt almost like staring at a reflection from another lifeti.
"So this must be the important business you were always off seeing to, Lady Guinevere," Victoria finally spoke, smooth and composed despite the circumstance. Though her sharp gaze never once left Alyssia. "I must admit, this is far beyond what I expected."
Guinevere stood near the bed with one gloved hand resting lightly against the opposite arm as she regarded them all calmly.
"Yes," the Court Mage of Galadriel answered lightly. "I have been working on sothing alongside this very immature girl."
"Hmph."
Alyssia imdiately looked offended.
"If I am immature, then you are rely a cranky old woman," she shot back with visible annoyance, turning her head away dramatically.
Guinevere only smiled at the insult.
"That tongue of yours proves my point rather efficiently."
"You provoke on purpose," the girl argued.
"Because your reactions are amusing." Guinevere shot back
Lucinda blinked rapidly at the exchange.
The absurd normalcy of their argunt sohow made the entire situation feel even stranger. Because the girl pouting near the bed did not feel like so mystery.
She looked human.
Annoyed, defensive and embarrassed.
Lyra suddenly cleared her throat softly, drawing everyone’s attention once more before the bickering could continue further.
Her eyes shifted toward Lucinda first, then Fiona and Victoria.
"I suppose introductions are in order before everyone collapses from confusion," Lyra mused dryly. "Lucinda... et your predecessor from roughly three hundred years ago."
The Court Mage gestured lazily toward the white-haired girl.
"Alyssia."
Alyssia imdiately frowned again.
"I am capable of introducing myself, you know?" she mumbled under her breath.
"Yes," Lyra replied without missing a beat, "but I enjoy doing it myself. It reminds of older days." A teasing smile touched the ancient mage’s lips. "When you were significantly cuter."
Alyssia’s cheeks visibly twitched.
"I was never cute."
"You cried because soone stepped on a flower once." Lyra reminded.
Alyssia’s eye twitched at being reminded of sothing like that. "That happened one ti."
"You also threatened to kill a duke over a cat."
"He kicked it!"
"You were still very cute."
Alyssia huffed loudly and turned away again, clearly refusing to dignify the conversation further.
Yet Lucinda noticed sothing important then. Lyra’s expression, it softened when she looked at Alyssia, protectively. As though the girl before them was sothing fragile despite all her power.
Fiona finally stepped forward slightly, unable to contain herself anymore.
"So this truly is another spawn of Octavia?" she questioned carefully. "But this does not make sense." Her brows furrowed deeper. "Mikoto himself was already considered an impossible anomaly. And now there is apparently a third?"
Her voice carried genuine frustration, nothing about this aligned with everything they knew. Or rather everything they thought they knew.
Lucinda silently agreed.
Because if Alyssia truly was another spawn of Octavia, then the implications behind that were enormous, terrifying even.
"Well," Lyra answered calmly, "it is admittedly a rather lengthy story."
The Court Mage folded her arms elegantly where she sat.
"But this," she continued while gesturing lightly toward Alyssia, "is precisely why the Abyssal Warden manifested."
The atmosphere shifted at those words.
Lucinda imdiately looked back toward Alyssia.
"The Wardens sensed her?" Victoria asked.
"Yes."
Lyra’s answer ca without hesitation.
"The Abyss reacts violently toward beings connected to higher divinity. Especially beings like Angels, as I’ve said." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Alyssia has remained hidden. But the tears sense through boundaries, it appears even concealed presences can now be detected."
Alyssia clicked her tongue softly.
"So annoying," she muttered. "I preferred remaining dead to all this nonsense."
Lucinda’s eyes widened slightly at the casual wording, the white-haired girl said it so plainly. As though it no longer mattered.
Victoria however leaned forward slightly, interest sharpening. "You speak very casually about your own existence."
"Because I’ve had a long ti to think about it," Alyssia replied flatly. "A long ti in purgatory gives a rather unique perspective."
The room fell silent again.
Lucinda stared at her.
("Three hundred years.")
Three hundred years ago this girl had apparently existed exactly as Lucinda did now. Another spawn of Octavia, another incarnation and another existence that should not have been possible.
And suddenly Lucinda understood why Lyra had demanded discretion.
They all glanced toward Alyssia.
And despite the warmth of the lavish room, confusion and disbelief were all any of them truly felt.
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