It had already been a month since Pearline arrived at the Laventhren estate. Thankfully, Elysia was now fully healed—thanks to Lady Amira.
During this time, Amira had shared with Pearline the story of how she once knew Kaelen, her father. She had promised to take care of Pearline and Elysia, but made one thing very clear.
"This is Laventhren—we value strength," Amira had said. "Now that I've taken you two in, you must prove yourselves. Even if I approve of you, the rest of the family will demand a good reason to keep you. If I cannot provide one, I won't be able to protect you further. So I will give you knowledge, strength, and help you in whichever way I can to stand on your own."
True to her word, Amira declared she would personally train both Pearline and Flora.
The training was intense and comprehensive. Alongside magical and martial lessons, Pearline and Elysia studied under esteemed professors—scholars of the highest repute—who taught them history, geography, mathematics, literature, and more. Pearline dove headfirst into her studies. Her mind grew sharper each day, just as her body grew stronger.
.
.
Time passed quickly, and before long, Pearline had turned nine.
Now, she stood in one of the estate's open courtyards, practicing sword swings against the air—each movement clean, focused, and free of magic. It was one of Lady Amira's firmest rules.
"If your body is strong," Amira had said, "you'll have more energy to cast spells. Even if you're a half-mage, you must not rely on magic alone."
Pearline took those words to heart. Every morning she trained with fierce determination, her muscles aching and hands blistered—but her spirit burned brighter than ever.
And yet, one mystery remained unsolved: Pearline's inability to consume meat. It was still a life-threatening condition, with no clear cause. Amira had summoned healers and scholars to investigate, but none had found an answer.
Despite this, Pearline pushed forward, training harder than ever—for soon, she would enter her first magic circle under Amira's guidance. Since it was her first time, Amira had chosen a Stellar circle—a low-tier circle safe enough for a beginner, yet filled with opportunities.
From her lessons, Pearline had learned that stepping into a magic circle was like opening one's eyes to a strange new land. Each circle revealed a unique realm, no two alike. Some were peaceful. Others, terrifying.
While a few circles had detailed maps, many remained incomplete. Explorers only dared to go as far as the paths allowed. Some circles defied mapping altogether. Others hadn't even been discovered yet.
Within these hidden lands lay enchanted items—relics of immense power. Some could elevate their finder to greatness. Others could bring only ruin.
Despite the danger, people still chose to enter. The powerful might survive and return stronger. The unprepared? They rarely returned at all.
Amira also warned Pearline about the state of the world. Chaos, she said, was spreading like wildfire. War had become normalized. Unknown forces that attacked without warning, slaughtering innocents like insects.
"If this continues," Amira had murmured, "I wonder if we even have a future left."
Pearline remembered those words well as she took another swing at the air, sweat dripping from her brow.
Then—suddenly—a soft giggle broke the silence behind her.
She turned sharply, sword half-raised.
It was none other than Eira.
"Eira! It's dangerous here, you could've gotten hurt," Pearline said, lowering her blade, worry etched on her face.
"No worries—I was with her, making sure she didn't wander too close," came another voice.
Elysia stepped into view, arms folded, smiling slightly. "You really think I'd let her near a swinging sword?"
Eira giggled, unfazed, and ran straight into Pearline's arms, hugging her tightly as if none of the scolding mattered.
"You little monster," Pearline laughed, wrapping her arms around the small girl before launching a gentle tickle attack that sent Eira into another round of giggles.
Eira was Lady Amira's daughter—now almost four years old. Her father had died in battle before he ever had the chance to see her face. Since then, Amira had kept Eira close to her heart—a living reminder of the love she'd lost, and the strength she still carried.
After a few moments, Pearline stopped and leaned in, rubbing her nose playfully against Eira's. "So~ are you done with sword practice for today, hmm?"
"Yes!" Eira beamed. Then, tilting her head with her biggest puppy eyes, she added, "Now can you please cook that soup for me? Pleaaaase? I want to have it…"
Pearline tapped her chin dramatically, putting on a thoughtful expression. "Hmmm… let me think about it. Well, yes, I guess we can do that—since you worked so~ hard, then why not?"
Pearline stood up, gently tossing Eira high into the air and catching her with ease, the little girl squealing with delight.
"First," Pearline said, holding Eira in her arms, "we need to gather some fresh vegetables from the garden. Then we make your favorite veg soup!"
"Can I help too?" Eira asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Yes, of course! Let's go!" Pearline grinned.
With Eira in her arms and Elysia jogging behind them, the girls raced toward the estate's vegetable garden, laughter echoing across the courtyard.
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Somewhere far away...
A house whose walls were scorched, windows blown out, and ash swirling in the night air like dying snowflakes. Inside, the only light came from the flickering flames of a broken chandelier, casting warped shadows across the cracked marble floor.
At the center of the ruin, a chessboard sat atop a bloodstained table. Two figures faced each other—one, a tall man cloaked in layers of black shadow, the other, a woman draped in a black silk cloak. Between them, the board gleamed with strange, twisted pieces.
"Checkmate," the man murmured, sliding his final piece forward with a click.
"Tch," the woman scoffed, reclining in her chair. "That's exactly why I don't go on missions with you."
"Don't make that face," he said smoothly. "Next time, you can suck the life out of the target. But this time—I won."
In the corner of the room, a man was chained to a cracked pillar—bloodied, bruised, and burning with elemental fire that pulsed weakly beneath his skin.
"Let me go!" he screamed, eyes wild with terror. "You monsters! You'll regret this! I swear—!"
The man rose without a word and walked toward him.
"No—NO, GET AWAY FROM ME!"
The prisoner thrashed, but the chains held tight. The man knelt beside him and removed his glove, raising his palm in the air toward the captive.
With a guttural scream, red energy surged from the prisoner's chest and was drawn into the man's hand like blood pulled through a needle, and now only a brittle skeleton remained, slumped against the chains was seen.
The man stood, dusting off his coat.
He licked his lips.
"Yum~"
The woman watched him with narrowed eyes, disgust curling her lips.