Chapter 513: Chapter 501: Sister from the same Goddess

[Realm: Uhorus]

[Location: Verdantis]

[Capital City]

Lucinda blinked once, then again, as if a second look would somehow make the scene before her less absurd.

It did not.

The large bed remained firmly lodged into the thick stone wall of the hallway, half embedded at an awkward angle. Splintered wood and torn velvet sheets hung from the cracked frame while dust slowly drifted through the cold castle air. One leg of the bed twitched before finally snapping loose and clattering onto the carpet below.

For a long moment, nobody spoke.

Fiona’s ears twitched sharply beneath the ornaments covering them, her salmon-pink eyes narrowing as she stared at the destroyed furniture with visible disbelief. Victoria looked no less confused, though unlike Fiona, there was amusement creeping into her expression, the corners of her lips threatening to curl upward.

Lyra merely stared at the bed with the exhausted expression of someone who had already dealt with this exact situation several times today.

A small sigh escaped the Court Mage.

"You prude! You cannot keep me confined to this space against my will!" a youthful yet shrill voice exclaimed from deeper within the room beyond the shattered doorway.

The indignation in the voice echoed through the hallway.

Victoria tilted her head slightly toward the now doorless room, one brow lifting with poorly concealed interest. "Well, someone seems quite lively."

"Lively is certainly a word for it," Lyra murmured under her breath.

Lucinda glanced toward the Court Mage immediately after hearing that tone. There was something strangely familiar about the exhaustion in Lyra’s eyes now. It was a deeply personal fatigue of someone forced to babysit.

The three followed after Lyra as she approached the ruined doorway.

Another voice suddenly rang out from inside the room, smoother and immediately recognizable.

"Perhaps you shall be allowed outside once you display even a modicum of maturity. But judging by current events, that appears well beyond your present capabilities."

Lucinda’s eyes widened slightly.

"...Is that...?" she started quietly.

Fiona and Victoria both visibly stiffened as realization crossed their faces as well.

They came to a stop before the destroyed entrance.

The room beyond was enormous.

Far too luxurious to merely be called a simple chamber.

Another massive bed rested near the far wall beneath flowing red curtains threaded with gold. Elegant white wardrobes lined one side of the room, polished to such perfection they reflected the chandelier light overhead. The chandelier was alight with a violet illumination, casting light across the expansive chamber. A richly woven violet carpet stretched across the floor while expensive decorations sat carefully arranged atop shelves and tables.

And then there were the stuffed dolls.

Far too many stuffed dolls.

Dozens of them.

Bears, rabbits, wolves, cats, creatures Lucinda did not even recognize—all piled atop the bed in overwhelming excess.

It was cute, disturbingly cute and completely at odds with the tension in the room. But none of those things held their attention for long.

Lucinda’s gaze slowly shifted forward.

Then stopped entirely.

Her breath caught.

There were two occupants within the room.

One was immediately recognizable.

Their own Court Mage of Galadriel.

Guinevere stood near the center of the room with the same elegance Lucinda had come to expect from her. Her dark violet hair was tied into a simple yet refined ponytail while a sleek black dress draped neatly over her figure. Long elegant gloves covered her pale arms, and despite the destroyed doorway and embedded bed mere feet away, her posture remained unbothered.

As though this entire situation was merely mildly inconvenient.

But even Guinevere was not what held their attention.

No, it was the other girl.

Lucinda found herself staring before she could stop herself.

The girl possessed a beauty so striking it almost felt unreal at first glance. Snow-white hair framed her face, styled into a slightly messy updo that somehow only enhanced her appearance rather than diminishing it. Red eyes stared back with intensity, deep and vibrant like fresh blood.

She looked young.

Perhaps only a year or two older than herself. Yet there was something deeply unnatural about her.

The girl wore a black corset fitted perfectly against her form while a ruffled black lace collar wrapped elegantly around her neck. At its center rested a crimson teardrop jewel that immediately drew the eye. Detached sleeves wrapped around her arms, black fabric lined with red trim and tied together by ribbons, leaving her shoulders exposed.

Beautiful and terrifyingly familiar.

Lucinda’s eyes narrowed instinctively.

Transformation magic.

That had been her first assumption, it had to be. But almost immediately she discarded the thought.

There was no magical distortion, illusion or transmutation.

Nothing.

Lucinda could feel magic exceptionally well. Any active transformation spell would have been obvious to her instantly. But there was absolutely nothing altering the girl before them, which meant what they were seeing was real.

The realization hit her all at once.

Fiona inhaled sharply beside her.

Victoria’s smile disappeared entirely.

Lyra quietly observed their reactions without interrupting.

Lucinda stared at the white-haired girl in silence as something slowly settled into her chest.

That familiar essence buried beneath the surface, her mouth parted slightly before words finally escaped.

"Another spawn of Octavia."

The room became very quiet after that.

The white-haired girl blinked once before pointing directly at Lucinda with immediate accusation.

"You!"

Her voice carried sudden excitement now.

"You’re the one radiating that irritatingly familiar feeling!"

Lucinda stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Guinevere immediately pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Please refrain from referring to resonance as ’irritating,’" the Court Mage sighed tiredly.

"But it is irritating," the girl huffed, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "It feels like standing near a mirror that keeps glaring at me."

Victoria slowly glanced toward Lyra. "You neglected to mention there was another spawn of Octavia hidden inside Verdantis’ capital."

Lyra looked entirely unapologetic.

"It slipped my mind."

"It slipped your—"

"To be fair," Lyra continued calmly, "this is not something one would believe. And as you can see, she is rather bratty."

"I can hear you, old woman!"

Lyra’s eye twitched slightly.

Fiona, meanwhile, had not taken her eyes off the girl once.

"I-I don’t understand..." Fiona’s voice came out quieter than intended, almost uncertain as the Solkari stared fixedly at the white-haired girl before them. Her ears twitched sharply, her eyes narrowing as though trying to forcibly unravel the scene through scrutiny alone. "This is just some transformation magic, right?"

The question lingered in the lavish room.

The white-haired girl immediately frowned at the remark.

"As if I would need to resort to some mediocre magic to fake my appearance," she huffed sharply, folding her arms beneath her chest with visible irritation. Her red eyes carried an edge to them, proud and cutting in a way that strangely reminded Lucinda of herself at her worst moments during the phase. "And honestly, if I wished to deceive you, I could certainly do better than standing here arguing about it."

Fiona’s confusion only deepened.

Victoria at least masked hers considerably better, though Lucinda noticed the small narrowing of the blonde’s eyes. The older girl was studying Alyssia carefully now, not with disbelief anymore, merely with observation. As though attempting to place together pieces of a puzzle she had not even realized existed until today.

Lucinda meanwhile could not tear her gaze away.

Her chest felt tight.

Because she understood now why the moment she entered the room had unsettled her so violently.

"She’s right..." Lucinda finally murmured after several long seconds, her voice quieter than usual. Her eyes remained fixed on Alyssia’s face. "I don’t know how... but that mana... it’s exactly the same as mine."

Lucinda subconsciously pressed a hand lightly against her chest.

It was unsettling.

No, more than unsettling, it felt almost like staring at a reflection from another lifetime.

"So this must be the important business you were always off seeing to, Lady Guinevere," Victoria finally spoke, smooth and composed despite the circumstance. Though her sharp gaze never once left Alyssia. "I must admit, this is far beyond what I expected."

Guinevere stood near the bed with one gloved hand resting lightly against the opposite arm as she regarded them all calmly.

"Yes," the Court Mage of Galadriel answered lightly. "I have been working on something alongside this very immature girl."

"Hmph."

Alyssia immediately looked offended.

"If I am immature, then you are merely a cranky old woman," she shot back with visible annoyance, turning her head away dramatically.

Guinevere only smiled at the insult.

"That tongue of yours proves my point rather efficiently."

"You provoke me on purpose," the girl argued.

"Because your reactions are amusing." Guinevere shot back

Lucinda blinked rapidly at the exchange.

The absurd normalcy of their argument somehow made the entire situation feel even stranger. Because the girl pouting near the bed did not feel like some mystery.

She looked human.

Annoyed, defensive and embarrassed.

Lyra suddenly cleared her throat softly, drawing everyone’s attention once more before the bickering could continue further.

Her eyes shifted toward Lucinda first, then Fiona and Victoria.

"I suppose introductions are in order before everyone collapses from confusion," Lyra mused dryly. "Lucinda... meet your predecessor from roughly three hundred years ago."

The Court Mage gestured lazily toward the white-haired girl.

"Alyssia."

Alyssia immediately frowned again.

"I am capable of introducing myself, you know?" she mumbled under her breath.

"Yes," Lyra replied without missing a beat, "but I enjoy doing it myself. It reminds me of older days." A teasing smile touched the ancient mage’s lips. "When you were significantly cuter."

Alyssia’s cheeks visibly twitched.

"I was never cute."

"You cried because someone stepped on a flower once." Lyra reminded.

Alyssia’s eye twitched at being reminded of something like that. "That happened one time."

"You also threatened to kill a duke over a cat."

"He kicked it!"

"You were still very cute."

Alyssia huffed loudly and turned away again, clearly refusing to dignify the conversation further.

Yet Lucinda noticed something important then. Lyra’s expression, it softened when she looked at Alyssia, protectively. As though the girl before them was something fragile despite all her power.

Fiona finally stepped forward slightly, unable to contain herself anymore.

"So this truly is another spawn of Octavia?" she questioned carefully. "But this does not make sense." Her brows furrowed deeper. "Mikoto himself was already considered an impossible anomaly. And now there is apparently a third?"

Her voice carried genuine frustration, nothing about this aligned with everything they knew. Or rather everything they thought they knew.

Lucinda silently agreed.

Because if Alyssia truly was another spawn of Octavia, then the implications behind that were enormous, terrifying even.

"Well," Lyra answered calmly, "it is admittedly a rather lengthy story."

The Court Mage folded her arms elegantly where she sat.

"But this," she continued while gesturing lightly toward Alyssia, "is precisely why the Abyssal Warden manifested."

The atmosphere shifted at those words.

Lucinda immediately looked back toward Alyssia.

"The Wardens sensed her?" Victoria asked.

"Yes."

Lyra’s answer came without hesitation.

"The Abyss reacts violently toward beings connected to higher divinity. Especially beings like Angels, as I’ve said." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Alyssia has remained hidden. But the tears sense through boundaries, it appears even concealed presences can now be detected."

Alyssia clicked her tongue softly.

"So annoying," she muttered. "I preferred remaining dead to all this nonsense."

Lucinda’s eyes widened slightly at the casual wording, the white-haired girl said it so plainly. As though it no longer mattered.

Victoria however leaned forward slightly, interest sharpening. "You speak very casually about your own existence."

"Because I’ve had a long time to think about it," Alyssia replied flatly. "A long time in purgatory gives a rather unique perspective."

The room fell silent again.

Lucinda stared at her.

("Three hundred years.")

Three hundred years ago this girl had apparently existed exactly as Lucinda did now. Another spawn of Octavia, another incarnation and another existence that should not have been possible.

And suddenly Lucinda understood why Lyra had demanded discretion.

They all glanced toward Alyssia.

And despite the warmth of the lavish room, confusion and disbelief were all any of them truly felt.