Lady Farren ca strutting into the room, her face filled with anxiety and consternation.
In her hands was a little Elf girl, with very short black hair, a scrappy and almost grungy set of clothes, and a permanent defiant expression on her face. It was Lyra.
Michael had never seen her in person before, but he knew imdiately that there was sothing wrong with her. The girl's face was pallid and insipid, with absolutely no color at all—a complete contrast to the lively and rambunctious child that he heard before.
Not only that, but even with Lady Farren holding her close, the little girl was still breaking out in a cold sweat, shivering as if she was out on the dead night of winter.
As the two Elves got closer to them, Michael stepped forward, intending to try and help alleviate so of the girl's pain.
But just as he did, a set of text passed by his vision, staggering him.
"What's wrong with her?" Katarina asked hurriedly.
"I—I don't know. She just collapsed and started to shake! I think… I think her curse is starting to return!"
Suddenly, Lyra clutched her own chest, her face twisting into pain.
Lady Farren's fears had co true. Lyra's Dao Heart had once again shown its fragility.
It was no wonder. The traumatic experience of having been kidnapped by an unknown organization with seemingly no hope of getting out would have stressed even a normal heart, much more sothing that was already vulnerable.
"Lay her down on the ground," Katarina implored.
With the extensive history they had in the Eternitus Consortium, the Curse of the Beastfolks was one thing that they had been researching deeply for so ti.
Everyone knew that the Curse of the Dao Heart was a death sentence, sothing that gave anyone a foreboding sense of mortality once its effects started to show. Once it was confird, there was basically no way of making a recovery.
Most people blad unfortunate luck, deplorable circumstances, or simply a freak genetic mutation that caused these Curses.
But Katarina knew differently. The Curse of the Dao Heart was simply a remnant of the Ancient Era.
Lady Farren laid Lyra down into the ground, with the little girl imdiately turning into a fetal position.
"The Curse of the Dao Heart is due to the abundance of Aubility Power in soone's heart," Katarina explained. "They are a manifestation of extre talent, overwhelming nascent potential, and a hidden heritage that dates back to the Ancient Humans."
Lady Farren frowned. "What does that an?"
"It ans that Lyra is too powerful for her own body. Aubility Power is billowing inside her, causing her heart to insidiously inflate, almost making it burst at the seams.
The Curse of the Dao Heart used to be a gift. It is the sign of a one-in-a-million talent that even the Ancient Humans worship as the pinnacle of strength.
It is scarce, but there are doctrines portraying children with the Curse of the Dao Heart as the people who were all but guaranteed to transcend into godhood," Katarina revealed.
This greatly shocked Lady Farren and the staggered Michael.
The image that she was portraying was in complete contrast to the vulnerable and ghastly appearance of the little girl. How could soone on the brink of death also be the sa one with the potential of ascending above the Nascent Spirit realm?
"But fate is cruel," Katarina grimaced. "What was once a sign of divinity, now beca a mark of death. Gift turned curse, those afflicted with this talent no longer have the proper resources needed to nurture them into maturity."
With most of the Ancient Era texts turning decrepit due to the deteriorating effects of ti, almost no one knew how to cure these curses.
"But she recovered! Her Dao Heart stopped deteriorating," Lady Farren begged. "She just needs to use the Compound Bow!"
Katarina pursed her lips, before reaching out her hands and wrested sothing towards her.
A second later, a rift in space appeared showing a dark storage room filled with weapons and sundry treasures that this Stronghold plundered throughout the years.
An ornate golden chest inside suddenly started to rumble, before its lid blew wide open as an anachronistic Compound Bow flew out towards Katarina's hands.
She held it for a brief second, before pushing it towards the little Elf girl.
Lady Farren's eyes beca filled with hope.
But as the seconds passed and Lyra's condition continued to worsen, her countenance started to turn weary and dreadful.
"Why isn't it working?!"
Katarina sighed. "I'm sorry, but there is no cure to the Curse. Whatever respite she felt must have only been temporary.
It's not uncommon for Cursed Children to feel healthy and lively for a brief period of ti before their conditions worsened."
She wanted to say that no Cursed Child in recent history has yet to go above the age of ten, but decided not to worsen the mood any more.
After all, the only way for a Cursed Child to recover was through—
"Wait," Michael said, stepping forward.
He gestured for Katarina and Lady Farren to give him so space, and despite their confused faces, they acquiesced to his request.
Then, he kneeled next to Lyra. "Hey, can you hear ? You gotta follow my voice, okay?"
With both of his hands outstretched, Michael closed his eyes and focused on the power deep inside his soul, tapping into sothing intrinsic within himself.
"What are you…," Katarina's words dropped off as she felt a change in the atmosphere.
Light, almost ethereal aura penetrated throughout the room, even bypassing Katarina's natural Nascent Spirit defenses. It felt as if gravity itself had lessened, tightens released.
Her eyebrows furrowed. This wasn't Aubility Power. This wasn't magic. It was sothing else entirely… sothing… divine.
A prismatic light emanated from Michael's hands, its glow spreading towards the grimacing Elven girl.
But after being touched by this ethereal light, her expression lightened, relief coursing through her body.
Michael heard ChatJK5's voice echoing in his mind.
[Would you like to awaken Lyra's Talent?]
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