It was time for the Gift-giving ceremony, or the main part of it , Seed-giving.

Mirielle’s turned toward the three survivors, even if her eyes are covered it is gleaming with a subtle amusement. She had watched them carefully, observed their stories, their pain, and their desires. She knew exactly what each of them needed, and so, as a gesture of divine favor, she would grant them powers, the likes of which would help them in their journey in Enlierau.

In front of them, Mirielle’s vessel, Rachyl, presented three seeds—glowing softly in her hands, each one pulsing with an almost otherworldly energy. These seeds would bloom within the survivors, transforming them into the beings they wished to become.

The goddess’s voice echoed softly in the hall as she spoke.

"Zephyrine, Riven, Mysterika," she intoned, her voice carrying the weight of divinity. "Eat these seeds, and the powers you desire will grow within you."

Zephyrine stepped forward first, her heart pounding. She had died because of her meekness, unable to stand up for herself, and her beauty had been the cause of her downfall. Loved by many, including a woman who shared her heart, she had fallen victim to jealousy and rivalry that ultimately ended her life. But now, as she activated her Veil of Radiance, a shimmering light surrounded her, exuding beauty and power in equal measure. The aura could shield her from harm and disorient those who sought to control or overpower her. She smiled faintly, realizing that her once-perceived weakness had become her ultimate strength.

Next was Riven. Once frail and sickly, his life had been spent bedridden, trapped by an illness that he could never escape. He clenched his fists, feeling the immense power coursing through him thanks to his Tank Resilience. His body, now unyielding, could withstand any injury or pain, immune to the frailties that had once defined his existence. As if Mirielle knows what his power was she summons Rachyl to give Riven , Nexarion—a very durable one a previous metal , and he can just break it at his will, showing the audience his immense strength.

Together, they stood transformed—not just in their physical capabilities, but in the way their new gifts symbolized the triumph over the tragedies of their past lives.

Finally, it was Mysterika’s turn. She stepped forward but she had no clear memories, no desires to guide her, and without that direction, the seed might not work its intended magic.

As she consumed the seed, she felt a strange emptiness, a stillness, as though the seed recognized the absence of her true self. For a moment, nothing seemed to change. Her body didn’t glow with power, her strength didn’t surge like the others. Instead, there was only a faint flicker of something, an uncertainty that left Mirielle amused. The goddess’s eyes twinkled, as though she understood perfectly what had transpired.

"Perhaps," Mirielle mused, her voice soft, "you will find your power when you find your purpose, Mysterika."

The audience watched in silent reverence as the three survivors stood before the Kadohara, each of them irrevocably changed by the divine gifts they had received. The atmosphere was thick with the weight of the moment, the vast, cavernous hall echoing with the hum of energy that now surrounded them.

The ceremony continued with the presentation of honors and gifts to the researchers, but it was clear that the true focus of the day was on the three survivors. They were no longer mere mortals—they were touched by the divine, and their fates were now entwined with the Kadohara’s will. The journey ahead would be one of power, discovery, and self-realization.

As the ceremony concluded and the hall began to empty, the survivors stood at the heart of the chamber, their minds racing with the newfound strength within them. They had been chosen, and now, they would have to navigate the path ahead—one that would lead them to face their pasts, confront their desires, and ultimately, discover the true extent of the powers they had just unlocked.

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As the grand ceremony concluded and the towering hall began to empty, the survivors stood at the heart of it all, still processing the magnitude of what had just occurred. Their new powers, the medals of honor, the divine favor—they were now part of something much larger than themselves. But, as Mirielle’s presence faded into the background, Rachyl, her vessel, stepped forward to address them.

"Before you venture out into the world," Rachyl said, her voice carrying a soft yet firm command, "know this: Mirielle offers you a place here, within her domain. You need not leave in haste. Take your time, discover what it is that you truly seek. You can stay in this place, bask in the comfort of Mirielle’s protection, or you can choose to explore the nations of the Kadohara. You have the freedom to decide."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Her words hung in the air for a moment, an invitation laden with possibility. The survivors exchanged glances. The weight of their newly acquired gifts was still settling in, but the offer before them was undeniable. A place in Mirielle's domain, a safe haven, or the chance to step out into a vast, unexplored world.

"You may also choose which nation you wish to live in," Rachyl continued, her eyes softening. "The vessels of each nation will guide you. Though they are closest to the Kadohara, they are not mere servants—they are the laborers of our gods. They work tirelessly to maintain the balance, but they are also the bridge between mortals and deities. If you wish to explore a nation, ask them. They can guide you."

Zephyrine felt a stirring in her chest. The possibilities were endless, but one thing was clear: she had made up her mind.

"I think... I think I need to go on a journey," she said quietly, turning to Riven, who had been standing by her side the entire time. "I need to find out what I truly want. This power—this gift—will be with me, but I need to understand what it means before I can truly embrace it."

Riven nodded, understanding in his eyes. They had been through so much together, and though the bond between them was strong, they knew that their paths could no longer be intertwined in the same way.

"Perhaps it’s better this way," he said softly. "We’re both still discovering who we are, and the world is vast. It’s better if we don’t try to hold each other back."

Zephyrine’s heart ached slightly at the thought of parting ways with Riven, but she knew it was the right decision. They had both been given the chance to change, to grow, and that meant venturing out alone to find their true selves.

"I’ll miss you," she said, a smile breaking through her serious expression. "But we’ll keep in touch. We have these..." She held up the communication device they had each been gifted—an elegant, intricate device that would allow them to stay in contact no matter the distance. "I’ll send you a message every day if I have to."

Riven smiled, nodding in agreement. "And I’ll do the same. You can’t get rid of me that easily."

As they shared a final, meaningful glance, Zephyrine turned to walk away, leaving Riven to start his own journey, one that would take him into the heart of this new world. With each step, she felt a sense of clarity washed over her—this was the beginning of something grand, but it would be hers to decide.

Meanwhile, Mysterika stood at the edge of the gathering, still unsure of what path to follow. The gifts she had received were unlike anything she had ever imagined, yet they held no clear meaning for her. She had no desires, no memories, nothing to guide her. It was a void, a space within her soul that left her feeling empty and disconnected from the world around her.

Just as she began to retreat into herself, the researchers approached her.

Verde, always practical and direct, approached her. "Mysterika," he said gently, "our responsibility to you is done. We’ve completed our work for the Soul Incarnate Doll Project. You are valuable to the research, but without clear memories, it is difficult to move forward. There’s no more we can do for you here."

She felt lost with his words, until Isolde smacked him in the back.

"How about exploring the world to gain new memories," Ravenwood suggested, interrupting Verde's words. His gaze thoughtfully. "Perhaps... perhaps it will help you recall some of the old ones, too."

Mysterika looked at him, a soft frown on her face. There was something in his words that resonated with her, a flicker of possibility, though it was still a shadow of a thought. "New memories?" she repeated, testing the idea in her mind. "I suppose... I could try."

Ravenwood nodded, his expression kind. "The world is full of stories, of people, of places. You might find something that sparks something deep inside you—something you’ve lost."

Mysterika felt a small stir of hope at his words, a possibility she hadn’t considered before. "Maybe..." she said, her voice quieter. "Maybe that’s what I need. "

With a small, determined nod, she looked toward the horizon. Elwes, ever compassionate, placed a hand on Mysterika’s shoulder, offering a soft smile. "Don’t feel like you have to stay here," she said. "Your body—your very origin—is Demulanyo. You can float anywhere you want, go anywhere. The world is vast, and you deserve the chance to see it through your own eyes. The truth of your journey is yours to uncover."

"I will," Mysterika whispered, her voice barely a breath. "I’ll go."

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With a soft exhale, Mysterika allowed herself to lift from the ground. Her body rose slowly, as though gravity itself hesitated to release its hold. She hovered above the land, her eyes drinking in the vast, sweeping landscapes that sprawled beneath her. The world, with its forests, mountains, and sprawling cities, was unfamiliar, yet it beckoned to her as if it held secrets she was meant to uncover. Each new sight stirred something deep inside her—curiosity, awe, and an unsettling emptiness.

She drifted from one horizon to the next, her thoughts a blur. What was I meant to find? The question clung to her, unanswered, as her mind swirled with confusion. The beauty of the world was undeniable—wild forests painted in golds and greens, the jagged peaks of mountains that seemed to scrape the heavens, and the delicate shimmer of distant cities like jewels dotting the earth. All of this... and yet, I feel nothing.

Time passed. Days blurred together as she floated on, carried by a strange yearning, a silent whisper against the air. The emptiness in her chest never seemed to wane, no matter how far she traveled or how breathtaking the world became. Why does this place feel so... hollow? Her hunger grew, her body longing for rest, for warmth, but still, she pressed on. Every inch she covered seemed only to widen the void inside her.

One evening, as the sky bled into hues of purple and pink, exhaustion caught up with her. Her wings faltered, fluttering weakly against the weight of fatigue. Just a little further, she thought, willing herself to keep going, but her body had other plans. She collapsed onto a wide stretch of grass, her form sinking into the earth as hunger and weariness overtook her. She had flown too far, lost in the beauty of a world she could not fully grasp, and now, she was paying the price. The ground beneath her felt cold, as if the world itself was echoing the chill inside her.

I can't keep running... she thought, eyes closing in a wave of helplessness. But even as sleep beckoned, the emptiness lingered, a shadow she could not escape.

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When Mysterika awoke, she found herself in the arms of an old woman, her face weathered by time, but kind. The woman had found her in the woods, collapsed and alone. On her back, she carried a small child, wrapped in cloth. The child’s eyes were wide, curious, and Mysterika found herself staring into them, searching for something she could not name.

"Don’t worry, dear," the woman said in a soothing tone, "you’re safe now." Mysterika gazed at the woman, unsure of what to say, or even what to do. She far from everything she understood. But for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel completely alone.

As the old woman carried her to a small cottage, Mysterika realized that perhaps her journey was just beginning. She had no clear path, no memories to guide her, but the world was vast, and the kindness of strangers might be the first step in finding her way.

So the story has truly began.