Lumine stood before a grand golden statue of a beautiful woman, her features serene and motherly. The light from the morning sun cast a gentle glow over her carved robes, making her seem almost alive. Her father knelt beside her, his warm hand resting on her shoulder as he spoke softly.
"Only those blessed by Goddess Themis can wield the Light Attribute," he told her, his voice filled with reverence. "It is her gift to us, a reminder that even in the darkest times, light will always find a way."
Lumine closed her eyes and clasped her hands in prayer, feeling the warmth of her father's presence beside her. The statue radiated a strange sense of comfort, as if it were watching over them.
Then everything faded.
She woke up.
The morning light filtering through the cracks of the old house wasn't nearly as warm as the dream. She blinked a few times, staring at the wooden ceiling, and slowly sat up. Her father's words echoed in her mind, but reality was far colder than dreams.
He still hadn't come back.
She had waited. And waited. And waited. First, she thought he would return the next day. Then the next week. Then a month passed. The other kids said he was gone, but he had promised. He never lied to her. Never.
But hunger didn't wait for promises. She had learned that the hard way. Hunger clung to her stomach like a leech, gnawing at her insides as lightheadedness and a pounding headache turned sleep into torment
At that time, Zegion came just like how are her father had said that light will always find its way. He brought food as he always did. Then one day he held out his hand and she took it.
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Big bro Z doesn't stay at home much these days. He's always running around, delivering stuff or doing that weird mana core research of his. So, guess what? Yuna's the boss now. And she's waaaay scarier than big bro Z! Even Jin sneaks off to train with Uncle Frank, leaving me stuck under strict Yuna.
Last time, I just wanted to play with the clay toys brother Z made for me and Ludwig, but nooo, Miss Demon had other plans. Since I hadn't finished learning my words, she made me write them all out—twenty times! And not on paper, but on the ground with a stone. The entire backyard was filled with words! I even wrote them big to take up more space so I'd finish faster, but guess what? That witch just swept them away with a twig broom and said, "I don't see anything written here." And I had to start again!
And after that? Praxis lessons. Ugh. I know magic casting is amazing, but I can already use light magic to heal people! Isn't that enough? I even earned some coins from helping adventurers at the Association. That means more sweets for me! But nope, Yuna doesn't care.
At least Ludwig likes studying. He even asks brother Z really hard questions, but big bro always answers like it's nothing. He's the smartest person I know! Ludwig can spend all day learning, but me? No way.
So I snuck out.
Yuna's probably too busy reading a big, boring book to notice I'm gone. Jin's with Uncle Frank. Ludwig's staring at some old dusty scrolls. Perfect escape!
My destination? Solana Store. They just got a fresh batch of honey bread, and I am not missing out! I dashed through the streets, weaving through the evening crowd like a shadow (okay, maybe not that sneaky, but still). I reached the store, bought my honey bread, and savored the warm, golden sweetness as I stepped outside.
Then, as I walked back, I heard it.
An argument.
Gunther's group stood at the corner, facing off against a group of soldiers. In front of them stood a noble boy with short, curly blond hair and a smug expression. A familiar one. I recognized him immediately.
Martin Berry. The son of the Baron Galstone Berry. Martin was no stranger to cruelty. Once, in the Wild Boar Tavern, a simple accident, a small splash of curry from a waiter's tray had been enough to ignite his fury. He had humiliated the poor woman, forcing her into a dogeza until her face pressed against the floor. Even then, it hadn't been enough. With a twisted sense of satisfaction, he had pushed her head down with his foot, grinding her dignity into the dirt. The onlookers had seethed, but no one dared to intervene defying the baron's son was no trivial matter. After that incident, the tavern owner had left town with the woman, some said they had found success in the Laviole Viscountcy. And now, here he was again, ready to stir up more trouble.
"I suggest you hand them over," Martin said, arms crossed. "Echo Stones of that purity shouldn't be in the hands of commoners. It's only natural that I take them off your hands."
Gunther frowned, standing firm. "We found these Echo Stones near the ruins. We're taking them to the Merchant Guild to sell, not to hand them over to you."
Martin scoffed. "Do you have any idea who I am? I could buy that entire guild if I wanted to." He waved a dismissive hand. "Be reasonable. Give them to me, and I might reward you for your trouble."
Gunther remained unmoved. "Not happening."
Martin's expression darkened, his eyes flicking to his side. "Vera"
The beastchild beside him black-striped ears twitching flinched slightly. Mana cuffs bound his wrists, glowing faintly. He hesitated, but before he could react, Martin's hand lashed out.
A sharp slap echoed through the street.
Vera barely moved. He didn't touch his cheek, didn't lower his gaze further. He simply stood there, his expression unreadable.
"Tch, you waste of a slave who can't even listen to the master's orders. I will make sure to teach you well after we return from the banquet."
My fists clenched, but I knew I couldn't act recklessly. Instead, I mimicked what I had seen Big Bro Zegion do countless times spreading my mana gently, letting it blend with the air around me. Hidden behind a house, my magic circle remained unseen, and my mana flow was so faint it was nearly undetectable. A soft glow shimmered from my fingertips, seeping into Vera's skin, dulling the pain and mending the forming bruise before it could settle.
Martin's butler, standing just behind him, caught my eye. He had noticed. His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
I stayed silent and took another bite of my honey bread.
Martin turned back to Gunther's group, his anger bubbling again. "You think you can defy me? Hand over the stones!"
Gunther, unfazed, crossed his arms. "No."
Martin was about to retort when his butler stepped forward, his voice calm. "Young Master, if we delay any longer, we will be late for the noble banquet at the Laviole Viscountcy."
That seemed to shift Martin's focus. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before smirking. "Hmph. I suppose you're right. No need to waste more time with these lowlifes." He turned back to Gunther's group, his sneer widening. "Besides, I have better things to do. The Laviole Viscount's eldest daughter is turning fifteen. She's going to the Imperial Rexroth Academy, just like me. Of course, the banquet is held in her honor. Not that commoners like you would understand such prestigious matters."
Saying this, he walked away with the Beastchild, who, for a brief moment, glanced toward the spot where I was hidden. The group of soldiers followed, their presence finally fading into the distance. Only then did Milly's legs give out, and she collapsed onto the ground, her breath shaky and unsteady.
"AHHHH, that bastard! For a second there, I wasn't sure if I was gonna make it out alive!" Milly whined.
Lumine stayed for a moment before turning away, her steps taking her back to the house. As she walked off, she couldn't help but think, if she got a chance, she wouldn't mind petting the tiger boy.
By the time she reached the house, it was evening and Zegion had returned. He was talking with Luna, Ludwig, and Jin seriously. Ohh she might miss something important so she ran towards them.
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Deep within the forbidden depths of the Vichitravana Forest, a ragged group trudged through the undergrowth, their faces pale and hollow with hunger. Their armor was chipped, their clothes tattered—each rip and tear a testament to the hardships they had endured. They were one of the many treasure-hunting parties that had ventured into the forest seeking fortune. Unlike the others, they had survived, but at what cost? Their eyes were devoid of light, as if the will to live had been slowly drained from their souls.
A blonde man, his sabre hanging loosely at his side, exhaled sharply. "Should we return empty-handed, only to suffer again? Or should we risk it all and take those jewels from the inner chamber of the stone ruins?"
A pale woman, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and fear, shook her head. "Nothing is more valuable than our lives. You saw what we saw. Even the aftermath of their battle could kill us."
The blonde man cursed under his breath. "Why the hell are those gigantic creatures guarding the ruins? Dammit!"
The scout of their party, a lightly dressed woman with a signal whistle at her hip, leaned against a tree, panting. Blood seeped from her left arm, and a crude bandage was wrapped around her head, barely concealing the wound beneath. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "We have to leave. Now. Those Titans… they're not letting anyone near those ruins. And the fights they're having… even from a distance, the ground shakes. We can't—"
Before she could finish, a single chirp echoed through the trees.
Her breath hitched.
The blonde man's eyes widened in confusion. The woman who had spoken before stiffened, her face draining of what little color it had left.
Another chirp.
The man holding the shield barely had time to react before a sharp crack echoed in the still air. He looked down in horror. A hole had appeared in his shield, clean, precise as if something had bored through it in an instant.
Another chirp.
His armor loosened, straps snapping apart as if invisible hands were picking him apart piece by piece.
Panic set in.
"We have to run!" the scout screamed, clutching her wounded arm as she bolted.
The others didn't need to be told twice. Years of surviving in perilous situations had taught them to recognize death when it loomed close. They ran, feet pounding against the dirt, their breath ragged. But with each step, more chirps filled the air, a cruel symphony of unseen tormentors.
One chirp, an armplate crumbled, its metal shredded into fine dust.
Two chirps, a blade at someone's side simply vanished, stripped down to its hilt.
Three chirps, an agonized scream as a thin, almost invisible wound appeared on the scout's leg, forcing her to stumble.
The Storm Chirps weren't just hunting them. They were toying with them.
The adventurers had told stories about these creatures. They weren't birds. No, calling them birds would be an insult to anything avian. They were malice-made flesh, tricksters that delighted in watching their prey unravel before delivering the final, unseen blow. They moved too fast to be perceived, and their attacks were nothing but an afterthought, by the time you realized you were hit, the damage had already been done.
The group ran without direction, without thought, the only instinct driving them forward was survival.
By the time they burst from the accursed domain of the Storm Chirps, their bodies were covered in cuts—some shallow, some deep. Their armor? It looked like rats had chewed through it, shredded beyond repair. Their faces were drenched in sweat, their limbs trembling.
A few adventurers standing by the edge of the settlement shook their heads at the sight. Another group had been marked by the horrors of the Vichitravana Forest. One of the onlookers muttered, "Storm Chirps. Nasty little bastards."
The scout barely made it a few steps past the forest's edge before her knees buckled. She collapsed, her body limp with exhaustion. The remaining members of her party wasted no time in lifting her up, their movements sluggish but desperate.
They had made it out. That was all that mattered.
For now.