The sun had barely crested the horizon when Jelly's chirpy voice broke through Cyrus's reverie. "Hey, big brother! How was it with the beautiful sister? Did you kiss?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief and unabashed curiosity.
Cyrus nearly lost his balance, stumbling before regaining his composure. He shook his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Big sister seems distracted recently," he muttered, more to himself than to Jelly. His mind wandered unbidden to Leora's face, mere inches from his own, before he forcibly snapped back to reality. Such dreams were lofty and unattainable, he reminded himself sternly.
Jelly's small hand found his, her touch surprisingly comforting. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice suddenly serious. "Don't give up, big brother. Beautiful girls are very capricious."
Cyrus raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "How could you possibly know that?"
A wide grin spread across Jelly's face, her pointed jaw giving her an impish appearance. "Because I am one too!" she declared, jumping forward with childish glee.
For a moment, Cyrus was speechless. Her words, though playful, held a kernel of truth. Good things were indeed worth fighting for. His fist clenched involuntarily, resolve hardening. "I wouldn't give up so easily," he said, his voice low but determined.
"Ow! Hey, big brother, you're breaking my hand!" Jelly's cry of protest snapped Cyrus back to the present. He released her immediately, an embarrassed smile playing on his lips. For a fleeting moment, he felt the urge to push the cheeky girl off the balcony – her words, unfiltered and brutally honest, had a way of getting under his skin.
Together, they made their way to the next training ground – a massive chamber that seemed to stretch endlessly before them. At the far end, a dark room pulsed with mysterious energy, visible through a glass frame. The space was filled with an array of mirrors, their surfaces catching and reflecting light in a dazzling kaleidoscope of energy.
As Neno and the other children arrived, followed closely by Leora, a palpable tension filled the air. The time had come to resume the exam.
Leora's voice cut through the nervous silence. "Today is the mental assessment," she explained, her tone steady and reassuring. "The mirrors in the room will assess the mental stability of the kids. It's a relatively light test – it shouldn't pose too much of an obstacle for them."
Cyrus nodded, but couldn't shake a feeling of unease. "Be careful, though," he cautioned the children. "Don't be careless, and give it your best." Jenny and the others nodded solemnly before entering the chamber.
As the assessment began, Cyrus found his attention divided between the chamber and Neno, who stood to the side, engrossed in an enormous book. Its pages seemed to flip of their own accord, and Neno's eyes darted back and forth, drinking in the information with an almost feverish intensity.
Inside the chamber, the mirrors hummed to life, flashing with vivid, often disturbing images. A man decapitated. A woman hiding a child. A girl fleeing across dirt roads towards the gates of Eldor magic school. As the images became more intense, dark chains materialized, wrapping around the children's bodies – first their legs, then their hands.
Cyrus gasped as he saw one girl come to a complete stop, her body trembling like a leaf in a gale. She looked fragile, like a mirror on the verge of shattering. "Why has she stopped moving?" he demanded, his voice tight with concern. "What is this place?"
Neno's head snapped up from his book. "It's... it's the Mirror of Lamentation," he stammered, his eyes wide with recognition.
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A chill ran down Cyrus's spine. "Why do I feel like the name itself doesn't bode well for kids?"
Neno's words tumbled out in a rush. "In the books of Eldor, we speak of a magical artifact capable of bringing out people's deepest fears from their past – essentially bringing back their demons. If the chains become too heavy, she'll fail the exam automatically."
"Eldor is a real madman," Cyrus cursed under his breath. The thought of facing his own inner demons made him shudder. If he wasn't sure he could endure such a test, how could these children be expected to?
As time ticked by, the exam neared its end. With each step, the chains grew heavier, turning simple movements into Herculean tasks. A few managed to exit, their success bolstering the morale of those still inside.
Cyrus found himself on edge, his eyes fixed on Jelly's struggling form. "Come on, Jelly, you're almost there," he murmured, nearly biting his nails in anxiety. Massive chains encircled her hands, legs, and even her neck – the sight was almost absurd in its severity.
"She can't do it," Neno whispered, sweat beading on his brow. "It would be best to bring her out."
"Shut up!" Cyrus snapped, glaring at his friend. "There's no way she can fail." Even as the words left his mouth, his mind and heart waged a furious battle of will. Deep down, he believed in Jelly's strength, but logic told him the task might be insurmountable.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Jelly lifted her leg with monumental effort, only for the chain to clink violently, shoving her backward. A sickening crack echoed through the chamber.
Before anyone could react, a blur of motion caught Cyrus's eye. Leora had smashed through the door, her movements fluid and purposeful as she entered the chamber. She moved like a sword slicing through shadows, her will as fierce and untamed as a lioness.
The chains, sensing a new presence, began to cling and shoot towards Leora. A deafening sound filled the air as she was forced to the ground, the mirrors humming to life and bathing the room in blinding light. Images flashed by so quickly they were impossible to discern.
Leora gritted her teeth, her body pinned by massive chains. Blood trickled down her side as she dragged herself forward, inch by painful inch. Cyrus stepped forward instinctively, his heart racing. He had learned from the Cube of Myriad Transformation that magical artifacts could adapt – whatever inner demons Leora faced had to be truly terrifying.
"Don't move!" Eldor's voice boomed, freezing Cyrus in his tracks. The older man's face was a mask of eerie calm. "She has to face this on her own. You can't help her."
"She's bleeding, she's sick. She isn't in her best state for this!" Cyrus protested, his hand on the door handle.
Eldor's words cut through Cyrus like a knife. "That's precisely why you can't be with her. Someone doesn't always need protection or rescue. Sometimes, what they need most is for you to trust them. That is the only thing required."
Cyrus's mind reeled. Everything in him screamed to protect Leora, to rush to her aid. But what if she truly didn't need his protection? What if his interference would do more harm than good? A fierce battle of will erupted within him – move in and rush to her side, or stay put and trust in her strength?
With a heavy sigh, Cyrus stepped back. He had seen firsthand how stubborn and capable Leora could be. Perhaps this was simply who she was – a force of nature that couldn't be contained or coddled.
As Leora's body trembled, spitting out a mouthful of blood, Cyrus clenched his fist. "You can do it, Leora," he called out, his voice filled with a mixture of worry and unwavering faith. Their eyes locked across the distance, a silent communication passing between them.
Suddenly, Leora's body began to glow with a divine golden aura. The air crackled with energy as the chains shattered, creating a storm that whipped her hair back. She emerged from the tempest, imposing and charismatic, with the scared Jelly in her arms.
Though Cyrus couldn't hear their exchange, he watched as Leora murmured something to Jelly. The little girl lifted her head, replying with newfound determination. Leora nodded, helping Jelly to her feet. Side by side, the two moved forward, unhindered by the chamber's malevolent forces.
As they neared the exit, their energies seemed to meld, manifesting as a magnificent golden lion that roared in triumph. Leora and Jelly stepped out of the chamber, bathed in the warm glow of their combined strength and resolve.
Cyrus felt his heart swell with pride and admiration. In that moment, he realized that sometimes the greatest act of love wasn't rushing in to save the day, but having faith in those we care about to overcome their own battles. As Leora and Jelly rejoined the group, their faces etched with exhaustion but glowing with victory, Cyrus knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together – not as protector and protected, but as equals united in strength and trust.