The glass reflected her image with an almost cruel intensity
The reflection blinked. The image did not
Ligia d'Argêntea
Hair like living silver
Eyes violet as a silent eclipse
Red lipstick marking her mouth with ritual boldness
The black, fitted garments clung to her body like trained shadows, ready to follow her every move
She inhaled slowly
The reflection blinked. The image did not
Beside her, Vael bowed in a measured gesture
"It's time, miss"
The voice was not just a statement
It was a calm sentence. Sharp
Ligia looked away from the mirror
She nodded, firm and silent
She walked to the door
Vael opened it with the precision of a royal compass
The corridors seemed to stretch with every step
Soft echoes like trembling bells marked her passage
Turning past a window in the western wing, Ligia stopped
"The moon... is red?"
High above, embedded like a burning wound in the starry tapestry,
the Blood Moon hung in silence
Its crimson glow spilled over the world like an ancient whisper
It was beautiful, absurd—a warning
"What does it mean, Vael" her voice came before she realized it
The butler stopped, still one step behind
"The ancients said it was a message from the goddess Selunara... to her brother, Kaorlun—the God of Chaos"
She looked at him
"I've never heard that. Go on"
Vael nodded
"Before cities. Before mana towers. Even before the first empires... there were only the Stellar Skies
Selunara and Kaorlun. Divine siblings
She, guardian of cycles and order
He, the traveler of dreams and silence"
The story seemed to open invisible doors in the very halls
"They say they danced across the heavens
Created constellations
Shaped stars with their hands
There was no temple. No altar
Only eternity... and each other's company"
Ligia's steps slowed
As if the legend were a real place, being reached with every footfall
"But something happened" Vael continued, voice lower
"Something the records forgot
Kaorlun was lost. Broken
And where dreams once lived... chaos was born"
A chill breeze slipped through a crack
"The Blood Moon marks the day of the fall
Selunara's grief
A plea... or a warning"
Ligia looked at the scarlet sky
The moon seemed larger
As if it were looking back
The system purred in her mind, drowsy
"Too dramatic"
Ligia just kept walking
Night fell like a ceremonial veil as Ligia descended the steps of the main entrance
Her silhouette, outlined by the moon, was a living shadow
Before the iron gates, a carriage awaited her
Black as liquid obsidian
Red arabesques carved in pulsing runic spirals shimmered under the bloody light
The horses, dark as absence, had amber eyes—living torches
Ligia paused for a moment
She looked at the carriage
And entered
Inside, the cushions enveloped her like invisible arms
She looked through the window
The family mansion seemed to watch. Silent. Complicit
A sigh escaped
She closed her eyes
But her mind would not rest
"System?"
[DING!]
The interface floated before her
[Status Tab]
● Points: 18
● Influence Level: Mediocre
● Aura of Presence: 3/100
● Charisma: ...Fix this, for the love of the God of Systems
[System Note: You are tediously BORING. Work on that]
Ligia opened one eye
"Seriously? You gave me a trophy for surviving but call me boring?"
The cat licked its holographic paw, tail twitching with disdain
"Congrats on not dying. But being antisocial in this world is almost as dangerous as cursing a priest with garlic breath"
"The old Ligia was a disaster" she murmured, staring at the carriage ceiling
"A walking nervous breakdown"
"Maybe... I don't know... try smiling?"
She snorted
But smiled
A small smile. But a real one
The landscape rushed by outside
Fields under red light
Ruins lurking between hills
Everything seemed so... beautiful
And wrong
"Vael" she said without turning her gaze "What a strange place. Everything is so beautiful... and at the same time, kind of... twisted"
Vael nodded
"The north of the Empire is prone to prejudice
For centuries they've called us... leeches"
Ligia laughed
Dry. Short
"Aren't we?"
Vael sighed
"Our lineage doesn't need blood to survive
It's a mana conduit, not a necessity
It's a choice"
Ligia looked at her hands
Pale. Almost translucent
"So what does that make me?"
Vael answered without hesitation
"The heir
The one who can be more than all who came before"
The carriage stopped
As silent as if treading on silk
Outside, the trail of white stones was not just a path—it was a tear in reality
The Blood Moon cast its light directly, as if Selunara herself pointed a finger at fate
Ligia took a deep breath
And then, with a calm and inevitable gesture, opened the door
The Ritual was not waiting for her
It was calling her