TWO HALVES

Lyra Emberheart had been the subject of great discussion these days. After placing third, she secured a great honor for the Spirituals, but while everyone else was celebrating her success, she seemed to be the only one who couldn't.

Sitting by her windowsill, her chin resting on her palm and her gaze looking out into the world, her breath came out in a steady, slow stream. The wind caught her gauze-like curtains and fluttered her pink nightgown as the sun set.

Her victory was a good thing for the Spirituals, but the ultimate result was that it had emboldened a lot of people.

Despite the clear gap that had been displayed, maybe used the excuse of Aerin as a reason. They felt that if she had paired up with a Spiritual instead, maybe instead of third place, she could have secured at least second, or maybe, she would have made it far closer than it seemed.

The funny part was that Lyra didn't believe they were actually wrong; the trouble was that they blamed the wrong things.

In terms of skill and talent in Force Pill Crafting, she didn't believe herself to be inferior to anyone beneath the Gods. She had seen the geniuses of the Demi-Gods now and she wasn't impressed.

The gap between them lay not in their talent, but rather the breadth of their knowledge. If one had all the talent in the world but no method to apply it, then what good was it?

But that was why her rewards were so good. She had received an Eighth and Ninth Order Standard Force Pill Recipe. If she took her time to study them, she could close the gap...

Just a little bit.

She sighed.

How many blueprints could Celestia study whenever she wanted? What about Verma?

There were just some gaps that couldn't be closed so easily.

Her mind flickered toward Aerin, but the image was immediately overlaid by Leonel, and she sighed an even deeper sigh.

He was so talented, but even he ended up losing everything.

She was smarter than most. How could she not see that the rules had targeted Leonel? And even then, he would have still come out on top had he not had this one, weakness.

She laughed to herself. Was it a weakness to not be perfectly proficient in every secondary profession there was?

She shook her head. Honestly, she preferred Aerin's more low-key personality. She didn't like the spotlight... it was just unfortunate that Aerin had too many worries, as did she.

The fact that he had dared to come as a Sparrow meant that he definitely had a backbone. If not for Leonel taking most of the heat, the discrimination he would have faced would have been absolutely terrible.

However, unlike Leonel, he only seemed to take calculated risks, while Leonel was wild and moved with naked abandon. He just happened to have so much talent and intelligence that things mostly worked out for him...

Until now.

'How amusing. I went from almost being married off to a human, back to being the pawn of a Spiritual marriage...'Content © 2024.

It seemed that one way or another, her family was hell-bent on shipping her off.

"What is this?"

Aerin frowned, looking at the letter in his hand. It exuded a scent he recognized all too well, after all, he had spent all his days in the Gathering of Minds by this exact scent.

He had already read the contents of the letter several times, but he didn't believe for a second that Lyra had sent it.

It had her scent. It had her handwriting. It even somewhat sounded like a series of words she might put in order. But she would never send it, he knew it.

He had only had a few weeks of interaction with Lyra, but he felt like he knew her like the back of his hand.

She was a woman who was quiet and reserved, bordering on shy, even. But she was also very prideful.

Her fight against Aina, at a point where no one else dared to do so, made that plainly obvious. She would never send a letter like a damsel in distress, asking him to come and save her.

Someone was trying to lure him out? But why?

His brows furrowed.

Unlike Lyra's situation, he was in a great one. His Dwarves Race was also celebrating, and he was at the core of the celebrations, but his mood had suddenly plummeted.

Because he knew that he couldn't fall into such a trap.

What could he do even if he went?

The Spirituals wanted to hold a ceremony to show how strong their humans were to prove a point? What place would he have in such a thing?

Aerin crushed the letter and burned it to ash, his gaze flickering.

"Dammit!"

Wind lashed out against the walls of his chambers, his gaze becoming gloomy.

In the end, Leonel chose to go to the capital. His curiosity was sufficiently stoked and he wanted to see just what might be in store for them. In the worst-case scenario, he felt that he and Aina had a better than 80% chance of retreating unscathed.

When they stepped into the capital, he immediately felt that the atmosphere was different.

Masks were no longer an option, so he and Aina settled for using Emulation Spatial Force to change their faces, hoping that they wouldn't run into anyone capable of seeing through it, at least not until they could feel out the situation.

However, they could already feel the glances, not toward their faces, but instead toward their group in general. And it was clear and obvious that this was due to their status as humans.

There wasn't any actual hostility, but it was clear that everyone was curious about what might be going on.

Soon, they made it to their accommodations and the night passed. The next day came and they were all escorted to an arena that seemed divided in two, not physically, but culturally.

On one side, those Ma'at Bubble elders sat, and on the other, there were those of the Kairos.