Leora stood for a moment, her hand still slightly outstretched in the space where Feyric had just been. A faint, puzzled frown creased her brow as she watched him practically bolt from the room.
Give your best? she mused, a small, bewildered smile touching her lips.
That was odd. Her mind, however, quickly returned to the more pressing, and far more perplexing, matter of her brother.
She was still reeling from the bizarre spectacle on the stage, the impossible voice, the sudden, humiliating surrender of Hammer-King, and most of all, the crimson earring.
She was about to turn back to the magical projection, eager to rewatch the bewildering events and perhaps find some answers, when a loud, familiar voice cut through the lingering silence of the participants' cabin.
"Leora!!"
Her head snapped up, her blue eyes widening, and a radiant smile, bright enough to banish any lingering shadows of despair, bloomed across her face.
The voice was unmistakable, a fiery, vibrant sound that belonged to no one else. It was Eira.
Eira burst into the cabin, her hair a wild, untamed cascade around her shoulders, her spear still clutched in her hand. Her face, usually alight with a mischievous grin, was etched with a rare concern.
She moved with the raw, unbridled energy of a storm, her eyes, immediately finding Leora.
She scanned her from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury, any lingering distress. "Are you okay?" she demanded, her voice tight with worry, her usual boisterousness subdued.
Leora nodded, a profound weariness settling over her now that the adrenaline had begun to recede. "I... I lost hope for a second out there,"
she confessed, her voice soft, almost a whisper. "On the stage, surrounded by all those people, who all hated me, who all wanted me dead, and said such humiliating things to me." Her gaze drifted, unfocused, as if reliving the moment.
"It reminded me of that day." A shiver ran through her, a phantom chill of a past trauma. "And I lost my composure. But then, just like that day, he came. Like a beacon of light in the darkness, and he saved me."
A self-mocking smile, tinged with a deep affection, touched Leora's lips. "Sometimes," she mused, shaking her head faintly, "I don't know who is older among us, him or me."
Eira's eyes blazed with a fierce, protective anger. Her fists clenched around the shaft of her spear. "Those old geezers! And those worthless, lust-hungry bastards, past their prime, with nothing better to do but spread hate!"
Her voice rose, a low growl. "No matter where you're from, don't you and we worship the same Lord? What is the difference? The Lord created all of us equal!"
Her words were a passionate defense, a loyal roar against the injustice.
She then turned her attention back to Leora, her anger momentarily forgotten in the face of a new curiosity. "I heard Hammer-King surrendered? What did Lucian do? I mean, Kai?"
Leora let out a small, genuine laugh, a sound of pure amusement. "Haha, well, his real name is actually Lucian. I just went with the flow that day when he introduced himself as Kai."
She offered a small, apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry."
Eira waved a dismissive hand, her concern already shifting. "Well, whatever. I don't care about his name, as long as he's not causing too much trouble."
Her eyes narrowed. "Now, tell me everything. What exactly happened out there?"
Leora recounted the bewildering events on the stage, her voice gaining animation as she described Lucian's impossible, omnipresent voice,
The way it had cut through the crowd's venom, the chilling threats he had hurled at Hammer-King.
She described the brute's terror, his complete mental collapse, and his humiliating surrender. And then, she came to the most perplexing part.
"And then," Leora said, her voice dropping to a whisper, her brow furrowed in confusion, "he showed Hammer-King something. A crimson, cross-shaped earring. He said... he said I defeated you yesterday, and that I gave it to him as a prize."
She looked at Eira, her blue eyes wide with genuine bewilderment. "When did you and Lucian fight? How did he get that earring?"
Eira stared at Leora, her eyes widening in disbelief, then narrowing into slits of pure, unadulterated fury. "I fought him?" she roared, her voice rising to a dangerous pitch, her grip tightening on her spear until her knuckles turned white.
"That coward?! I know how he got that earring!" Her face, usually so expressive, was now a mask of simmering rage.
She clenched her fists, her entire body trembling with indignation. "Dad... just wait. Let me get home." The words were a promise of swift, brutal retribution.
Eira spun around, her gaze sweeping the cabin, searching for her elusive target. "Where is Lucian now? I need to take back my earring!" The demand was laced with a desperate urgency.
Leora, despite her own confusion, felt a pang of amusement at Eira's predictable fury. "Now that you've asked, even I don't know where he is," she admitted with a shrug. "Your fight is over, right? Did you win?"
Eira nodded, her anger momentarily forgotten in the face of her victory. "Yes, it was a quick one. And there's a long time before the second round starts. We can roam around the Guild Hall, and I can tell you more about how everything works here."
She was already planning their next move, her restless energy returning.
Just as they were about to leave the cabin, a Guild guard, a stoic man in polished armor, entered. He moved directly towards Leora, his expression unreadable, and handed her a small, folded piece of paper.
"This was from your brother, Miss Light of Eye," he stated, his voice flat.
Leora took the note, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.
She unfolded it, her blue eyes quickly scanning the familiar, elegant script. A small message, concise and utterly Lucian, was scrawled across the parchment.
Leora, it began. I wish for you to reach the four-person rampage, or whatever they call it. And yes, I won't watch your other matches. I just came to this Guild for some fun, but there's nothing interesting here. So, I have left now. You are on your own, now.
Hahaha. And tell Eira I am not giving that earring back. If she wants it, tell her to talk to her father.
Bye...
At the bottom, scrawled in a flourish that perfectly captured his mischievous disdain, was a large, mocking laughing emoji.
Eira, who had leaned over Leora's shoulder and read the message as well, let out a strangled gasp. Her face, already flushed with anger, now turned a dangerous shade of crimson.
Her eyes, wide with disbelief, then narrowed into slits of pure, incandescent rage. "Dad!" she shrieked, her voice echoing through the cabin, a furious, vengeful cry. "You are gone today!!"