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    Chapter 6: The Tethered Chains of The Broken Past


    <hr>


    Once they arrived at Adira’s bedchamber, the maids informed them that the bath was already prepared.


    Though it was no longer very warm, Adira insisted on taking it; it had been so long since she had indulged in such a luxury. The mere thought excited her!


    The Duchess ordered the maids to leave, declaring that she would be the one to attend to her daughter today.


    Adira went first inside the room where the bath is. She gradually immersed her foot in the tub, relishing the warm water as it enveloped her skin.


    With a surge of elation, she stepped in fully, her entire body surrendering to the soothing embrace of the water.


    She closed her eyes, savoring the moment.


    This is the life!


    During her training days, they were allowed to bathe only three times a week, and by "bath," she meant wiping themselves down with a damp cloth.


    They could wash their entire body only when they came across a large body of water or when it rained while they were out in the field, making this experience truly exceptional!


    "My child... Will you tell me about it?" A soothing, gentle voice spoke from behind.


    The Duchess gently dampened Adira''s hair before applying a thick layer of shampoo from her hands onto Adira''s head.


    “…Hm?” Adira closed her eyes, savoring the delightful sensation of the massage on her head.


    "Will you share what troubles your mind? About today… I sense something is amiss. It’s not just about the cheesecake, is it?"


    Adira couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of the cheesecake; it was rather silly.


    Sitting quietly in the bath, she reflected on all the things she had longed to say to her mother.


    At last, she spoke with measured tenderness. “ Mom... I am just so, so, so happy.”


    Duchess Constance laughed lightly, "That’s an abundance of happiness. To the point of tears? Hm…"


    “Yep!” Adira grinned.


    The Duchess tilted her head, her tone playful yet curious. “Really?”


    "It’s true." Adira confirmed, her voice bright with sincerity.


    She closed her eyes once more, letting the warmth of the bath soothe her as her mother’s hands worked through her hair, the scent of soap mingling with the soft sound of bubbles forming atop her head.


    “It’s been so long since I’ve done this,” Duchess Constance murmured, a wistful note creeping into her voice. She paused, her hands still for a moment as she reflected. “Now that I think about it... you’ve been calling me ‘Mother’ since you were nine. What’s brought on the sudden change?”


    “I just…” Adira hesitated, her voice faltering as a wave of shame and guilt swept over her. She lowered her head slightly into the warm bath. “I wanted to try saying it again.”


    Duchess Constance’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Does my dear daughter wish to be pampered?”


    They both broke into wholehearted laughter.


    The moment wrapped Adira’s heart in a cocoon of happiness and peace—a rare serenity born from life’s simplest joys and the comforting embrace of security.


    She realized, with a pang of regret, how easily she had taken such ordinary days for granted in the past.


    Her gaze drifted away from the rippling water, her focus shifting to the quiet details of her surroundings. Her eyes lingered on the room peeking through the open door: the ornate divider standing to one side, the soft glow of the lampshade near her bed, and the empty table and chair waiting in stillness.


    She took in every second, imprinting it on her memory like a cherished keepsake.


    Suddenly, three special words filled her mind. The words she had hesitated to say at fifteen, fearing that the adults around her might deem her childish, now felt so precious that if she didn’t express them now, she might never have the chance again.


    "Mom, I love you."


    Duchess Constance seemed momentarily stunned, her hands pausing mid-motion.


    Adira’s voice grew softer, but no less earnest. “I’m so thankful to be your daughter. I love you so much.”


    Flustered, the duchess abruptly resumed scrubbing, her movements hurried and uncharacteristically awkward. “Wh-what’s come over you today, Adira?”


    Adira chuckled, "Nothing, I''m just happy."


    “Happy all of a sudden—has our baby grown up?” Duchess Constance teased, though her tone betrayed a hint of emotion.


    “I’m still the little Adira you know, Mom,” she replied with playful defiance. Then, her voice turned hopeful. “Will you tell me a story?”


    Duchess Constance took a deep breath and sighed. "A story? Aren’t you too old for such things?"


    "Not at all. I told you, I’m still the same little Adira. And I like listening to your voice."


    “…You do?” Duchess Constance raised a brow, trying to suppress a smile. She cleared her throat, adopting a more composed demeanor. “Ahem! Well then, since I’m in a good mood, instead of a story, I’ll share a little special story, a secret of mine.”


    Adira listened intently. Her mother had always been deeply passionate about books and myths, so much so that she had commissioned the construction of an entirely separate building just outside the manor to house her ever-growing collection.


    The nobles mockingly called it The Ostentatious Librarium, whispering that it was built to rival the royal library itself. But their opinions mattered little to Duchess Constance, whose sole concern was her cherished tomes.


    Duchess Constance had designed her own library, naming it The Grove of Arcanum, as it was built near the manor’s garden.


    Once, when Adira asked her mother why she had made the library so conspicuous with its glass walls and small plants, her mother explained that it was her way of showing appreciation for the books that had gifted her knowledge.


    She even went so far as to hire mages to create technologies that would prevent the aging of the book covers and to install a dust collector, ensuring that none would touch the books she had personally arranged.


    Though a lot of noble men have criticized her, she firmly believed that despite women’s societal roles, a woman endowed with knowledge could stand tall and compete in a man’s world.


    Not that a lot of noblemen could bark for long, as they were always met with the Duke’s intimidating presence. They were too afraid to anger her husband, though he made a conscious effort not to overshadow his wife.


    Duchess Constance began, "It was before your father received the title of Duke. We were young but already together. Back then, I was a very curious girl, sneaking into the Royal Library at night, thanks to a friend who gave me a key."


    " In one corner of a shelf, deep within a less popular area of the library, I discovered a peculiar book... More like a journal, really."


    Duchess Constance asked, "Do you remember the story of the Siren’s tale?"


    Adira shook her head. "No..."


    Duchess Constance mused, "Well, you were quite young when I last told you." She continued, "But you do know of Aragon''s tradition regarding hair, right?"


    Adira nodded. " That aside from family, nobody else should tie or braid it?"


    " Exactly. Our hair symbolizes our fate. Aside from the owner of the hair or a family member, only our chosen beloved may braid it with a ribbon from himself." Duchess Constance chuckled, her eyes sparkling with reminiscence. "I remember your father trying it for the first time. The braid was so awkward it hardly resembled one. But he tied it tightly... And look, the result is four children playing on the ground!"


    They both laughed.


    The Duchess continued, "In the Siren’s tale, an angel who broke the taboo fell from the sky, only to be saved by a beautiful siren. The angel couldn’t speak because his voice and wings had been taken away by the gods as punishment. Though he could write, the siren could not read, so he could only proclaim his love by braiding her long, lustrous hair with the ribbon that tied the remnants of his feathers together."


    "It was believed that the hair symbolized the woman’s destiny and the ribbon represented the man; when tied together, it signified a connection of their future as a pair. Since then, the tradition of tying hair has become a sacred, silent rule in the Aragon Empire."


    "But…" The Duchess trailed off, piquing Adira’s curiosity, drawing her deeper into the narrative, "In the book I found... it was different."


    "How was it different?" Adira asked.


    "Ahem... Ahem—" The Duchess grinned and spoke with theatrical flair, "Behold! The Promiscuous God of Health and Fertility, Rheos, fell in love once again with a mortal woman! But this time, his fall was heavier than the angel from the siren''s tale."


    "One peculiar day, Myrd left his duties in heaven and remained on earth for an extended time. The three gods left behind, struggled to fulfill the role of the God of Fertility, as they each had their own responsibilities."


    Duchess Constance began washing Adira''s hair as she continued the story. "At first, they wanted to descend and reprimand Myrd for giving them another tedious task. After all, he—a god—had descended again for a woman! A rather frivolous reason! But the God of Wisdom, Tyr, declared, ''A mortal cannot outlive a god.'' So they waited ‘patiently,’ virtuous as they were, but... hundreds of years passed, and the mortal—the lover of Rheos—was still alive and healthy! What’s more shocking was that they remained together!"


    " The God of War, Zephyr, was furious! Hundreds of volcanoes erupted in the west, creating the mountains we know today! He was already busy blessing soldiers at war; taking care of an indolent fool’s problem was too much to ask! He roared, ''Just split them up already!'' Yet, the God of Wisdom was so stressed out that thinking became a monumental task!"


    " Aurelion, the God of Harvest and Prosperity, suggested in his gentle, melodious voice—words one would not expect from him—''Rheos despises men the most; why not turn the mortal into one?'' So they did, combining both ideas."


    "First, they separated the two by thousands of miles, then transformed the woman into a man! Thanks to this, the God of Fertility ascended back to the heavens, it seems he was back to work!”


    Duchess Constance chuckled. "However, the relief was short-lived until the God of Fertility descended once again! They were all left baffled and confused! Had another woman captured this god’s heart? Tyr, being the God of Wisdom, quickly discovered that Rheos had only returned to search for the soul of his beloved! One could only imagine the headaches afflicting the gods at that moment."


    " Rheos, a lovesick fool, continued his search without a care in the world—only for his beloved. He scoured every nook and cranny of the land until he found her soul twinkling on a magical map. To his surprise, he never expected to find her as a beggar on the street! He had searched for so long, traversed every avenue, and yet had not seen a single shadow of his beloved! The thought of encountering a different ''her'' had never crossed his mind. After all, how could it? The truth was, his beloved was unrecognizable due to her disheveled hair!"


    Adira chuckled. “She was definitely having a bad hair day.”


    Duchess Constance laughed as well. “Indeed! However, this man didn’t seem to mind—he gently swept aside the curtain-like hair and saw ‘her’ as a ‘him’! The man who had once been a woman was so embarrassed that he fled the scene!”


    Her voice, laced with excitement, dropped to a whisper as she added, “But do you know what the God of Fertility did?”


    Adira''s eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What?"


    " Instead of being paralyzed with shock—he chased after his beloved while professing his love! The people were incredibly curious about who this beggar was, to be so hopelessly adored and publicly pursued by such a beautiful man without a hint of shame!"


    "With the speed of a god, Rheos easily caught up to him. His beloved, out of embarrassment, covered his face, ashamed of what he had become—only to be gently caressed by Rheos, who confessed, ''I loved you for who you are, not for what you are,'' and then used a ribbon from his sleeve to tie the long, disheveled hair into a braid!" Duchess Constance squealed with delight.


    "And then?" Adira asked eagerly.


    Duchess Constance grinned. "The two of them lived happily ever after."


    Adira smiled. "Oh, that was sweet. Rheos loved ‘him’ for who he is, that''s true love isn’t it?”


    Duchess Constance nodded. " Indeed, it was true love."


    They continued to chat for a while, their conversation light and playful, as if they were two teenagers gossiping about love and life.


    However, their conversation was cut short when Adira realized her bath was over. She couldn''t linger in the water any longer, or she would catch a cold.


    Her mother helped her into a casual, comfortable gown. Afterward, the Duchess decided to let her rest in her room, hoping to soothe her state of mind after the events of the morning. Still, given their interactions earlier, she held onto hope that Adira was in a better state now.


    .


    Adira stared blankly at the ceiling. Now that she was alone, she had ample time and space to think.


    The realization came slowly to someone who had been so disbelieving; it had only just struck her. Everything was real. She truly was back.


    The story time she had once shared with her mother was unfolding before her eyes.


    The noisy, annoying voices of the twins, with all their little antics, echoed around her.


    Her strong and dependable older brother was by her side in the garden when she struggled.


    Her bed felt soft beneath her, the furniture in her room looked expensive, and she was once again adorned in an extravagant dress.


    This time, it wasn’t a dream or a hallucination; everything was real. Real. Real and real.


    “This is all real.”


    Her eyes began to sting, and her nose felt as though something were lodged inside it. She sniffed, feeling a tightness in her chest as her face twisted in emotion until—


    “I want to see Father.”


    With a surge of determination, she sprang to her feet, slipped on her indoor slippers, and bolted out of her room. Fortunately, the hallway outside her door was empty, allowing her to rush toward her father’s study without interruption.


    Panting in front of the study door, she realized her stamina was lower than she had imagined. It hadn’t even been that long of a fast walk!


    She grasped the handle and twisted it, revealing her father seated in his usual chair, engaged in his duties as Duke. He looked up in surprise, of course; who wouldn’t be startled by a frantic daughter bursting through the door, breathless and wild-eyed?


    “Duke Hugo,” she began, breathlessly.


    “Uhh…” Duke Hugo seemed both baffled and confused. “Can I help you, my daughter?”


    Adira stepped inside and settled into the couch, still breathing heavily.


    Confused, Duke Hugo stood, took a ceramic teacup and saucer, and placed them on the small table before her. He poured her a cup of tea.


    He cleared his throat, and spoke. “ I only have tea with me right now.”


    Then Duke Hugo sat on the opposite couch, looking bewildered. He regarded Adira with a mix of suspicion and confusion, waiting for her to explain herself.


    However, instead of speaking, Adira suddenly chugged the tea from her cup as if it were mere water!


    Dumbfounded, his mouth fell slightly open in shock. “Is... is something the matter? Are you perhaps dealing with some... internal struggles, Adira?” He fidgeted nervously with his collar. “You know you can always confide in your father, my child.”


    Adira let out a deep breath, a wide grin spreading across her lips. “Dad.”


    “Huh? Me?” The Duke’s eyes lit up, sparkling with delight at hearing his favorite term. “Yes—yes, I’m Dad. You can confide in Daddy!”


    Adira chuckled, a warm sense of fulfillment washing over her. Rising to her feet, she couldn’t hide the smile or the amusement dancing across her face. She dashed to the door. “Thanks, Dad!”


    “What? Thanks for what? That’s it?” Duke Hugo called after her, utterly bewildered.


    “Yep! Bye!”


    She hurried out, leaving her father in a state of confusion as she raced back to her room, a sense of accomplishment propelling her forward.


    It had been a long time since Adira had addressed her parents as “Mom” and “Dad.” Perhaps it was the burden of her noble status that had forced her to outgrow the “babying” phase so quickly.


    From a young age, Adira had been stubborn and overly concerned with how others perceived her. She didn’t want to appear childish before the other noble children, who addressed their parents as “Mother” and “Father.” So, she had eventually followed suit, leaving behind those simpler, warmer terms.


    Even holding her parents’ hands in public had become a source of shame for Adira, a habit that deeply saddened the Duke, though he tried his best to conceal it.


    She knew, deep down, that her father longed for a family where status held no sway—a wish that had driven him and her mother to have another child.


    Fortunately, the twins had grown up to mirror him in many ways: playful and carefree, unburdened by the weight of noble expectations.


    But for the present Adira, such concerns no longer mattered. Even as a child, she had secretly longed to call them by those simple, endearing names and to hold their hands as they strolled through public places if only she didn’t lack confidence.


    Now that the chance had finally come, she intended to seize it without hesitation.


    Once inside her room, still brimming with contentment and joy, Adira plopped down onto her bed, releasing a long, relieved sigh.


    Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a piece of paper on the side table.


    Curious, she stretched out her arm to grab it and discovered that the paper bore childlike scribbles. On it were doodles of four fox faces, each paired with a name: Fan, Fei, Fuo, and Fea.


    A realization struck her—Fiona had mentioned the cubs would remain with her, yet she had not seen them since her arrival.


    “Is this... what Fiona meant?”


    Tentatively, she spoke, “Hello...? Fan, Fei, Fuo, Fea...”


    To her astonishment, the drawings began to stir, as though responding to her voice. Slowly, new scribbles appeared beside each fox, forming words that seemed alive on the page.


    Fan - pAawers bak!


    Fei - Tras prend wid layf~


    Fuo – pen pen go awie rejenereyshon


    Fea - en lay ten ment


    Adira furrowed her brow. What she read left her utterly speechless. “Wh-what is this terrible writing...? Why is it spelled out like... every individual syllable?”


    After reading it aloud a dozen times, she finally deciphered the message: Powers back, trust friend with life, pain pain go away regeneration, enlightenment.


    Her head tilted as she pondered the meaning of these cryptic words. Then, as if struck by realization, she exclaimed, “Ah! The cubs! You guys... This must be what Fiona was talking about back then!”


    She murmured to herself, “Fiona said her children also saw my memories... Is this what they concluded after seeing them?”


    The drawings began to move again, their tiny heads bobbing up and down in unison.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    “...You can hear me?”


    The doodled fox faces opened their mouths in what resembled grins, nodding enthusiastically.


    Adira held the paper closer to her ear, but there was no sound. She frowned in thought, then tried, “I’ll ask you a question. Nod for yes, shake your heads for no, okay?”


    The cubs nodded in agreement.


    Adira considered her questions carefully, framing them for simple answers. “Can you guys speak?”


    All four shook their heads. Fair enough.


    “Can you write your replies on the paper?”


    They shook their heads again, but this time, the words hard and long taym appeared, scribbled messily next to their doodles.


    “Okay, we’ll keep it simple then. This works, right?”


    They nodded again.


    Encouraged, Adira pressed on. “Do these wishes mean they’ll happen in the future?”


    The first three nodded, but Fea shook her head, leaving Adira puzzled. Fea seemed startled for a moment, then quickly began nodding as well.


    “...Okay?” Adira replied hesitantly. “Do I need to do something to achieve these... wishes?”


    She wasn’t entirely certain what these were—whether they could still be called wishes or something else entirely. After all, they had decided this was what was best for her, shaping it from fragments of her own memories.


    Though they appeared hesitant at first, as if deeply contemplating, the first three eventually made their decision and nodded. Fea, however, shook her head once more, her doodled expression turning dejected.


    Adira felt concern wash over her, she gently asked, “ What’s wrong Fea?”


    Fea looked down, seemingly unable to keep up with the other three.


    “It’s okay... Don’t be sad... You’ll get used to it with a little practice, okay?”


    Dejected, Fea nodded slowly.


    Adira sighed. She tried to pour mana onto the paper, but nothing happened.


    For a moment, she was confused, then remembered that her core had not matured yet. In fact, she probably didn’t even have a core at all, since she hadn’t had the time to cultivate her abilities in this new life yet.


    However some part of her, perhaps the muscle memory of her past, made her believe her mana was still there.


    Well, Fiona had mentioned that anything tied to her soul would eventually return. Did this mean her magical abilities and accumulated mana weren’t entirely linked to her soul?


    This might be a discovery worth exploring. Most devotees believed magical abilities were divine blessings bestowed by the gods, so most of them believed it was also connected to the soul, as the human soul is considered to be a gift from God as well.


    She rubbed her chin, contemplating her possible life at the academy. “Could this be a hypothesis worth presenting...?”


    Her musings were interrupted as bright lights suddenly flared before her. No—it was the paper itself, glowing with a radiant white light!


    The fox doodles turned their tiny heads toward Fan, the first in the line of drawings.


    The light was blinding, but it dimmed in bursts, allowing Adira to glimpse Fan’s doodle. The letters beside it were fading, disappearing entirely as the glow subsided.


    As the light vanished, a searing heat surged through Adira’s body. Her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed, clutching her chest as an inexplicable pain wracked her form.


    Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she gasped for breath, her body feeling as though it were being carved with a blade and lashed by an invisible whip from all directions.


    Adira grabbed the sheet and bit down hard, stifling her scream to keep it from escaping into the hall. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the realization striking her like a blow.


    “This... This is...” she murmured, her voice trembling.


    A thick, warm liquid trickled from her nose. She wiped it away instinctively, her fingers coming away stained with crimson blood.


    Panic coursed through her as her eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—to help her. Then they landed on the door.


    No!


    With a groan of frustration, she reached for the side table, gripping its edge tightly as she tried to lift herself.


    Her legs buckled, but she forced them to hold, stumbling back onto the bed.


    She tried to focus on breathing, dragging air into her burning lungs, but her insides felt like they were on fire.


    Her throat constricted as though a lump had lodged itself there, choking her. Her nose began to clog, and the metallic tang of blood filled her mouth. She swallowed hard, forcing it down, her teeth gritted against the pain.


    The agony was unbearable. It seared through her like white-hot blades, carving into her body and soul alike. It wasn’t just physical—it was a torment that gnawed at her very being.


    This very sensation brought back the horrific memory of her near-death experience—dying itself!


    Terrified yet, in her desperation for air, she could only focus on breathing, pushing the nightmare aside.


    Her body felt like it was being crushed under an invisible weight. Nails of pain pricked her skin from all directions. In desperation, she grabbed a pillow, pressed it against her face, and screamed into it.


    She couldn’t endure it any longer; the pain was too much. Tears trickled down her face, despite her unwillingness to cry, as she screamed as if this would force the pain out of her body.


    No matter where she turned, it felt as though she were being stabbed, whipped, and beaten—yet there was nothing physically there to harm her.


    The pain came in relentless waves, each more unbearable than the last. Her vision blurred, her breaths shallow and rapid as fury sparked within her.


    ‘What the hell is going on!? Why am I feeling this kind of pain now!? I thought I—’


    With monumental effort, Adira forced her dominant arm to move. Her muscles trembled as if resisting her will, but she managed to form a circle with her index finger and thumb—a gesture performed instinctively.


    Mana, warm and electric, surged from her core through her arm and into her fingers. It was a feeling she hadn’t expected to experience again, not after travelling to the past.


    Only then did she realize what she had thought earlier—that she was supposed to lack mana this time. However, strangely enough, she did now! But there was no time for pondering!


    A layer of mana formed in the space between her two fingers. She glanced over, and despite the pain, the suspicion of what she was about to see made her stomach churn.


    Please! Let it not be–


    The mana rippled, and suddenly, black smoke began to coalesce in the room. Shadows formed, drifting like vapor, filling the space with an oppressive, unnatural stillness.


    Adira’s breath hitched as her worst fear materialized.


    Before her were the spirits of those she had slain in her past life.


    How is this possible? The sword–


    Adira’s heart raced. Her chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of her memories.


    Their forms were faint but unmistakable, their gazes fixed on a distant, invisible point. They didn’t even spare a glance at her. Unlike before, when their faces were contorted with hatred, they now seemed... calm. Almost detached.


    The curse of that damned sword... it should have been broken already, shattered and left behind with her lifeless body. Yet here they were—spirits that had no place in this time, following her as a cruel reminder of her sins.


    After all, every time someone died in the presence of the sword, their soul would be forcefully claimed by the blade she had once wielded. Such was the curse of that weapon, and the one who bore its weight would be its wielder.


    The return of the past to haunt her was terrifying in itself.


    Was the path of evil truly her fate? Was that why these souls followed her? For a moment, it felt as if life itself had drained from her, leaving her feeling like an outsider—one who had taken the life of the Adira who should be living a normal life now.


    What Fiona had said echoed in her mind—that Fiona had taken the soul of the Adira from this time to replace it with her own. Though they were the same Adira, the life she had lived was different, regardless of whether this Adira came from her own past.


    No, it can’t be, it doesn’t make sense! This is MY past! This is-


    Her thoughts fractured under the weight of guilt and confusion. Even if this was her past, the presence of these spirits was a haunting confirmation: no matter how much she tried to change, the shadow of her sins would remain.


    A metallic liquid rose in Adira’s throat, and nausea swept over her like a tidal wave. She squeezed her eyes shut, her nails digging painfully into her palms as she fought to suppress the rising panic.


    But this time, the pain was too much to contain. A harsh, racking cough tore through her, and blood burst from her mouth, staining her dress, the bed, and the floor in violent splotches of red.


    Her vision blurred, dark spots creeping into the edges as her strength waned. She knew she was about to lose consciousness.


    Trembling, she reached for the paper with the four foxes, her hands shaking as she grasped it. With the last bit of her remaining clarity, she willed it into her dimensional pocket, ensuring it would stay hidden, and though her vision were blurry, she caught a glimpse of a weapon she utterly detested hidden within.


    With a sharp wave of her arm, the dimensional pocket sealed shut. Her gaze then flickered toward the bell pull on the far side of the bed, the distance suddenly seeming insurmountable. Her knees were numb, her legs unresponsive, and even the soles of her feet tingled with sharp, electric pain. She couldn’t move.


    With no other choice, she rasped out, “Ju... Judith...” Her voice was barely audible over the pounding in her head. She spat out the metallic liquid pooling in her mouth and tried again, her throat raw and burning. “Judith!”


    Still, there was no answer. Desperation surged through her, and she summoned the last reserves of her strength to kick the vase of flowers on the bedside table. The ceramic shattered with a loud crash.


    “JUDITH!” she screamed, the effort sending fresh waves of agony through her body.


    At last, the hurried sound of footsteps echoed from beyond the door. Relief swept over her as the door creaked open.


    “…Milady?” came Judith’s voice, laced with concern.


    “Oh my God!”


    Adira barely registered her maid’s face before her vision went completely dark. Her head lolled back against the bed, and she surrendered to the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.


    <hr>


    A figure of an elegant woman, clad in a red garment, appeared in the center of an endless abyss.


    Adira reached out, but when she opened her mouth, no words came.


    She wanted answers if returning was something she truly deserved, knowing that the past still lingered, ready to chase and haunt her.


    Suddenly, three fox heads appeared in front of her. All three chanted in unison: "Safe, safe, safe!"


    What?


    The foxes'' faces seemed almost worried, even guilty, though they continued their chant: "Safe! Safe! Safe!"


    Adira was too confused. She turned toward the woman in the distance, whose back was turned to her. "Fiona..."


    However, her vision blurred, and suddenly, a baby was cradled… in her arms!?


    A man’s voice sounded next to her ear, “ That’s a good name.”


    WHAT!?


    “..ra..”


    “..ira..”


    “Adira…”


    Adira groaned, her head pounding as a sharp, bright light pierced her closed eyelids. She squinted against the glare, blinking multiple times as her vision slowly adjusted.


    The blurry shapes around her sharpened, and she saw the concerned faces of her parents—the Duchess and Duke—looming to her left. On her right stood William, his brow furrowed, and a man dressed in white who appeared to be the family doctor.


    It was the doctor’s voice that had been calling her name.


    “What... happened?” Adira croaked, her throat dry and her voice hoarse.


    Duke Hugo’s face lit up with pride, and he leaned closer, speaking with enthusiasm that was far too loud for her sensitive ears. “Your core has matured! It has taken shape at such a young age—”


    “Hugo!” the Duchess interrupted sharply, giving her husband a glare that silenced him.


    “Sorry...” he mumbled, taking a step back, his excitement momentarily dimmed.


    Adira closed her eyes, her body still feeling sore as she tried to process the situation. She vaguely registered her mother’s hushed voice as she turned to the doctor, questioning him in soft but urgent tones. Though Adira couldn''t make out the entire conversation, certain words floated to her ears, tugging at her thoughts—core, mana, blessed.


    She forced her eyes open again, focusing on the man in white as he patiently explained to her mother.


    “Cores are a significant milestone, Your Grace. They are the tangible manifestation of mana within the body,” the doctor began. “For most individuals, the formation of a core occurs around adulthood—typically in their twenties or even later. But in rare cases, such as with the pope or those believed to be ‘blessed by the gods,’ cores can mature during adolescence, sometimes even earlier.”


    He adjusted his spectacles, his gaze turning to Adira as he continued, “For Lady Adira to experience such early core development is extraordinary, a sign of immense potential. It is something seen in only a handful of individuals throughout history.”


    Duke Hugo couldn’t help but interject again, albeit in a slightly quieter tone, “See? I told you our children are  exceptional!” His chest puffed with pride, and he shot a smug glance at the Duchess, who merely rolled her eyes in response however a faint smile can be seen.


    Adira lay there, listening to the exchange, her thoughts racing. The words “blessed by the gods” made her stomach churn uncomfortably.


    She wasn’t blessed—she knew that. This core, this pain, and this overwhelming situation weren’t divine gifts.


    They were remnants of her past, a harsh reminder of the curses she bore—curses that clung to her, all thanks to the cub that had granted her the return of her ability.


    Still, she said nothing. Instead, she forced a small, tired smile as her parents continued to fret over her, their voices blending into a distant hum.


    Her gaze drifted to the ceiling, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. If her core had truly matured, then her mana was back—whether she liked it or not.


    “Did Lady Adira perhaps experience a traumatic event or a mental breakdown recently?” the doctor asked.


    The three family members fell into contemplation, submerged in their own thoughts as they sifted through their memories.


    Noticing their silence, the doctor added, “ Was there any moment when she experienced intense emotion?”


    “Ah!” William exclaimed, his brow furrowing as a realization dawned. “Yes, two days ago. Before she collapsed in her room, she had been staring into nothingness for hours. Then, quite suddenly, she began to cry.”


    “Cried?” The doctor’s expression betrayed his confusion.


    “Yes,” William confirmed, glancing at the Duchess with a knowing look. “It was an unusual day. My sister wept inconsolably and acted quite out of character. Her emotions were undeniably intense.”


    The doctor stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It’s difficult to draw conclusions, but there have been accounts of similar phenomena—albeit under different circumstances. Historically, during the days of the coliseum, when gladiators fought to the brink of death, some manifested their cores, granting them extraordinary magical abilities. These abilities often emerged as a means of survival or to alter the tide of battle.”


    Duke Hugo, who had remained silent, murmured, “I know someone like that.”


    All eyes turned to him.


    “The Emperor,” the Duke began, his voice steady yet solemn. “His core manifested during a pivotal battle when we were young. I will never forget that moment since it turned the tide in our favor. But Adira? She has never wielded a blade. Combat seems inconceivable for her, given her frailty, look at her—she’s so thin!”


    “Indeed!” Duchess Constance interjected sharply. “Do you truly believe our daughter could be mistaken for some crude barbarian?”


    Adira lowered her gaze, torn between laughter and frustration. She was neither a barbarian nor a so-called blessed one that’s for sure.


    “ Then how did her core mature so suddenly?” Duke Hugo wondered.


    “That…” The doctor hesitated, uncertainty evident in his voice. “That remains a mystery. However, rest assured, it is neither unnatural nor alarming. In fact, such occurrences are often seen as a blessing—an honor, particularly for a family as distinguished as the Ducal House of Laskaris.”


    The weight of his words settled heavily over the room. Her core’s awakening at such a young age could indeed be considered extraordinary—a divine gift bestowed upon the Duke’s daughter, 2nd lady to that of the princess of the Empire.


    Yet, for Adira, such accolades meant nothing. Status, titles, and privilege were luxuries she had long disregarded. All she could feel now was a growing unease.


    "The signs we’re seeing in lady Adira are often present in students at the academy. There are no abnormalities in her mana flow; it’s just... unexpected. Seeing how it flows so naturally through her meridians, her core must have matured long ago, remaining unnoticed until now."


    He nodded, almost as if convincing himself. "Regardless, this is good news. It’s rare for ladies to develop their cores to such an extent. It’s only a matter of time before you acquire magical abilities—this must be a blessing. Lady Adira, your core will undoubtedly aid you in your academic pursuits."


    Duchess Constance asked, “Doctor, I have a question.”


    "Of course, Your Grace. Please, go ahead."


    "I once had mana flowing within me, but it never progressed to the point of developing a magical ability, as I didn''t take the time to nurture it. Will my daughter face the same fate?"


    The doctor considered her words before replying. “Much depends on how Lady Adira nurtures her abilities moving forward. For now, it is imperative that she refrains from using her mana indiscriminately. What occurred must not happen again.” His gaze turned to Adira, firm yet gentle. “Please, Milady, for your own well-being, do not tamper with your mana heedlessly.”


    Adira inclined her head in acknowledgment.


    Duchess Constance,"I have one last question, Doctor,"


    “Yes, Your Grace?”


    "I have never seen my daughter in a life-and-death situation," Duchess Constance said, her tone laced with concern. "She has lived a sheltered life within this manor, and I’ve never let the children out of my sight for long. How, then, did her core mature to such an extent—an extent that incoming graduates from the academy typically possess—when she hasn’t done anything to cultivate it? Isn’t that, in itself, abnormal?"


    The doctor’s gaze shifted to Adira, scrutinizing her intently, as though attempting to pierce through her very being.


    A wave of unease coursed through her under the weight of his examination.


    For a moment, their eyes met, and Adira felt her breath catch.


    “I believe there is no cause for alarm, Constance,” Duke Hugo interjected, breaking the tension. “These occurrences, though rare, are not without precedent. Perhaps the archives hold similar accounts.”


    The Duchess sighed, her fingers massaging her temples. “Very well. Forget I asked.”


    The doctor bowed. “Rest assured, Your Grace. Lady Adira’s condition is far from dire. The Gods of Aragon will surely watch over her.” He turned to Adira with a kind smile. “After all, my lady, you could be considered one of the divine.”


    Adira’s blood ran cold. Divine?! Absurd! If they discovered the souls she carried within her, they would be the first to cast her down to hell!


    After exchanging their thanks, the doctor departed to attend to his next noble patient.


    After exchanging polite farewells, the doctor excused himself, leaving to tend to his next noble charge. Adira followed his departure with her gaze, grateful for his care yet wary of his words. Trust, she had learned, was not so easily given.


    “Adira?”


    “Hm?” She turned to William, startled by his wide-eyed expression.


    For a moment, he appeared unnerved, as though he had glimpsed something unspeakable. Then he darted a glance toward the door.


    “Brother?”


    He quickly averted his gaze, laughing uneasily. “Ah, forgive me. I must have imagined it.”


    Adira tilted her head, perplexed, but chose not to press further, noting his carefree demeanor.


    After their parents discussed her situation for a while, Duchess Constance instructed the maids standing by to bring her meals in her room, since she had missed several days of both lunch and dinner.


    Later, after much deliberation, Duchess Constance instructed the maids to bring Adira’s meals to her room, citing her recent recovery. However, Adira insisted on joining them for lunch in the manor''s dining room.


    At first, they were worried, but when they saw her walking normally, even hopping, they agreed with a sigh of relief.


    As they strolled through the ornate corridors, Adira’s eyes wandered over the intricate furnishings and sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows. She asked casually, "Where are the twins, Brother William?"


    “They’re studying,” William replied as he walked beside her. “They’ll join us once they’re finished.” He turned to her, a curious glint in his eye. “By the way... how did you do it?”


    “Do what?” Adira asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.


    "Your core—what’s your secret, little sis?" William grinned, giving her a sheepish smile as he poked her shoulder several times. "Spill it! I won’t tell anyone. The only thing I’ll brag about—I mean, share with my friends—is how your core matured at fifteen."


    “Why are you acting like a child, brother?” Adira chuckled, shaking her head. “Wait… fifteen?"


    Her expression changed so swiftly, like the sky darkening before a sudden storm.


    “Of course! What’s with that look?” William raised a brow. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten!”


    “No! Of course not!” she exclaimed, giving him a playful shove. Yet, she couldn’t shake the unease creeping over her. Though it was her own body, something about how young she was in this moment felt deeply uncomfortable


    Ahead of them, their mother glanced back sharply, her elegant brow arched in silent reprimand.


    The siblings immediately fell quiet, adopting a demure demeanor as they trailed behind her.


    Their father, walking beside the Duchess, stifled a chuckle. With a gentlemanly flourish, he entwined his arm with hers, redirecting her attention forward.


    Adira wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, her mind racing. What month is it? When will the devil’s letter arrive?


    As unease threatened to consume her thoughts, the maids pushed open the grand doors to the dining room.


    The sight beyond was hauntingly familiar.


    Memories of flames, mangled bodies strewn across the grand table, and the acrid stench of blood and charred flesh clawed at her mind.


    However, instead of a horrific sight, the scene before her now was pristine—a resplendent dining hall bathed in the golden light streaming through a grand window.


    The table, adorned with the finest silverware and crystal, gleamed beneath a dazzling chandelier. Beyond the glass, the lush greenery outside seemed to embrace the room with its tranquil beauty.


    “Beautiful…” Adira murmured, her voice barely audible.


    William chuckled. “It’s not like it’s your first time here. Come on, have a seat.”


    He pulled out a chair for her, and she sank into it, her gaze lingering on the intricately carved silver utensils before her. Lifting the knife and fork, she hesitated. They felt strangely foreign.


    “What are you doing, sis?”


    The unexpected voice startled her. She turned to find Cecil watching her suspiciously, arms crossed.


    Colin, who was seated beside Cecil, laughed. “The food isn’t even here yet, and you’re already this eager? Are you that hungry?”


    Flustered, Adira offered a sheepish smile. “Yes, I suppose I am.”


    The twins exchanged puzzled glances but let it pass. They moved to their seats across from Adira and William, while the Duchess settled beside them.


    The Duke, however, broke tradition by choosing the seat next to Adira instead of his customary position at the head of the table.


    “Hugo,” Duchess Constance said, her voice sharp as she fixed him with a pointed stare. “What are you doing?”


    “What?” the Duke replied, feigning innocence. “Can’t a father sit beside his daughter? I worked hard to raise her!”


    He turned to Adira with an expression so imploring it resembled that of a forlorn puppy.


    Unsure how to respond, Adira handed him the napkin from her setting.


    “Hugo!” the Duchess snapped, her palm striking the table with a sharp thud. “Return to your chair at once!”


    Reluctantly, the Duke obeyed, muttering under his breath as he reclaimed the head seat. “This is unfair… Why does your mom get to hear those three special worlds while I don’t? You came from me, after all…” He whispered the last words.


    A faint smile tugged at the Duchess’s lips as she resumed her seat, her irritation dissipating quickly.


    Cecil leaned toward Colin, whispering, “What’s wrong with Father?”


    Colin shrugged. “I think he’s finally gone mad.”


    It was only then that Adira realized what he meant—the "I love you."


    Flustered, her face flushed with heat, she suddenly remembered how she had told her mother but not her father.


    Though she had felt a surge of energy when she first spoke those words, saying them in front of the twins, on the other hand, would surely invite a flood of mischief. Still, Adira couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d try again next time—when she had a chance to be alone with her father!


    Colin, Cecil, and William turned to her, a collective question mark hovering over their heads.


    Before the thought could linger, a procession of maids entered, pushing carts laden with exquisite dishes. delivering their food and arranging it neatly before each of them.


    As a noble family, there were dining etiquettes to uphold. Yet to Adira, the sight of the food rendered her mind blank.


    With lunch served, the family began to eat in silence. Adira’s gaze lingered on the succulent steak placed before her. Its glistening surface, perfectly seared, beckoned her.


    Her mouth watered in anticipation. She gulped, trying to remain calm as she sliced the steak and brought a piece to her lips.


    “Oh my god…”


    The flavor burst upon her tongue, rich and savory, leaving her momentarily breathless! For a fleeting moment, she felt as though she had transcended mortal confines and ascended to a divine plane.


    Then, out of nowhere, Adira recalled her father’s earlier words.


    Fine!


    She had remembered how opportunities were meant to be seized in the present. Determined, she resolved to take action now, making sure she wouldn’t look back with regret!


    Summoning her courage, Adira broke the sacred dining silence. “Father, Mother, William, Cecil, Colin…” She took a deep breath, her voice steady yet earnest. “Thank you. Thank you for being my family.”


    A warm smile lit her face as she added, “I love you all.”


    “...”


    “...’


    “...”


    “...’


    “...’


    The room fell utterly silent.


    The sounds of clinking and Adira’s muffled laughter filled the dining room.


    Suddenly, the twins burst into chaos, their startled reactions causing juice to spill onto their faces as they accidentally sprayed each other.


    The Duke’s napkin now bore the remnants of his interrupted bite, while William sat frozen mid-chew, his jaw slack in disbelief.


    In the corners of the room, maids stifled laughter, their delight evident.


    And then, Adira couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Pfft! Ahahahaha!” She erupted into laughter, her mirth shaking the table as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.


    Her outburst jolted everyone back to reality. The maids moved swiftly to assist the twins and replace the Duke’s napkin.


    Adira’s gaze traveled around the table, taking in the warmth and the humor of the moment. Her eyes finally landed on the Duchess.


    There, in her mother’s gaze, Adira saw something unfamiliar—pride, love, and a softness that belied her usual stern demeanor. Her lips curved into the sweetest of smiles.


    Adira returned it, her own smile brimming with joy. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the steady, comforting rhythm of her heart.


    It wasn’t racing with fear or anxiety, but with the realization that this fleeting moment was a treasure—a simple joy in a turbulent world.


    “Thank you for the meal,” Adira said softly, her gaze drifting to the window, where sunlight poured in, bathing the room in warmth. “And… thank you, Fiona.”