Chapter Six
The Soulblender Institute
Back at the grand hall, the atmosphere crackled with excitement, vibrant whispers weaving their way through the crowd like a playful breeze. Elizabeth, her heart thudding with intrigue, approached the bustling group, each step filled with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.
A warm invitation soon reached her, urging her to join them on the plush, velvety cushions scattered invitingly around the room.
Turning to the girl with flowing blonde hair beside her, Elizabeth asked breathlessly, “What on earth just happened?”
The girl’s emerald eyes widened in surprise, and a bright smile broke across her face. She leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with excitement. “The heirloom of the Fairy Lord is missing!”
Just then, with a sudden pop that startled Elizabeth, as if conjured by magic, Josephine materialized with a sudden pop, her presence instantly commanding the room.
“Due to some unfortunate incident,” she announced, her brow glistening with perspiration, “our task shall be delayed. Tonight, all of you shall stay here.”
An electric thrill of curiosity surged through the newcomers as they clustered around the marble staircases, their footsteps creating a soft symphony on the polished stone.
They climbed eagerly, drawn toward the mysteries that awaited them in the dimly lit dorm chamber. Josephine led the group to a dank, dimly lit room tucked away at the end of a hauntingly shadowy hallway.
The dilapidated room reeked of rotting roots, the air was thick with the musty odor of damp earth, an unsettling reminder of nature’s dominion over the space. The low ceiling loomed overhead, fragile and precarious, threatening to shower dust upon them if disturbed.
With a flick of her wrist, Josephine tapped her magipen twice on a bewitched piano placed beneath a large gaping hole in the ceiling.
As crimson droplets cascaded onto the keys like a delicate, foreboding rainfall, the piano gave a mournful groan.
Suddenly, its wooden frame shuddering as a dense mist began to pour forth, wrapping around them like a mystical shroud.
With a violent shudder, the piano splintered open, unveiling a narrow, beckoning passageway that seemed to whisper secrets of unknown adventures.
With a shared sense of trepidation yet excitement, they formed a hesitant line and ventured into the tunnel, the sound of water dripping rhythmically from above echoing around them.
As they delved deeper, a mesmerizing crystal door gradually emerged from the shadows, reflecting ethereal colors that danced like starlight. From within, an elegant woman glided into view, her translucent form ethereal, as if she were woven from strands of mist. Gasps erupted among the students, some recoiling in surprise, while a few let out terrified shrieks.
“Ah, Cassandra,” Josephine breathed, her tone a mix of familiarity and respect.
“Good evening, Jessica,” the ghostly woman replied with a bright cheerfulness that belied her spectral nature.
“Are these our newly selected Evil Scarlets?” she inquired, her sharp gaze assessing the newcomers with curiosity.
“Nope,” Josephine replied playfully, guiding the weary students through the shimmering crystal door.
“Cassandra, please dismantle the magic barrier. One of our saviors was meant to reach the S.I. tonight, and we need to ensure our curious newcomers don’t catch sight of it,” she instructed in a hushed tone.
Elizabeth, however, was captivated by the beauty of the space they were now in.
Ignoring Josephine’s conversation with the ghost, she pressed her hands against the doorframe and leaned in with wide-eyed wonder.
What an exquisite sight it was before her!
The hall inside opened up like a treasure chest, with its ceiling soaring to heights that felt like they brushed the edge of the heavens.
A magnificent chandelier made entirely of sparkling crystals hung gracefully above, casting luminous light that flickered and danced like a host of tiny stars throughout the room. Over fifty sumptuous armchairs, upholstered in rich fabrics, were scattered around, offering plush comfort amidst the opulence.
The walls were adorned with grand portraits of illustrious figures, each canvas dripping with history and elegance, and one wall boldly displayed a breathtaking drawing of a luminous crystal orb, glowing softly as if holding secrets of the universe within its depths.
Three elegant spiral staircases spiraled upwards, leading to mysterious smaller halls, their banisters shimmering like the finest silver.
The floor was a dazzling mosaic of glittering crystals and deep red rubies, sparkling under the chandelier’s glow, while delicate, silky curtains floated effortlessly, enchanted to flow gracefully in the air.
With a flourish, the chandelier came to life, flooding the hall with an enchanting light that wove through the magical atmosphere.
“This is perfect!” Elizabeth exclaimed, her voice bursting with joy.
Just as a mesmerizing piece of classical music began to cascade through the air, the newcomers found their places, sinking into the embrace of the opulent winged armchairs.
“For tonight, this will be your sanctuary. Should you have any questions, refer to the parclose,” Josephine instructed, gesturing toward the radiant crystal screen that pulsed with gentle light. “And remember to sleep before midnight,” she added, casting a meaningful glance toward Elizabeth before vanishing in a shimmering flash of golden light.
“Sleep before midnight, how peculiar,” Elizabeth muttered to herself, the weight of intrigue settling in her mind.
As she pondered the warning, Emily, the golden-haired girl, approached her again, taking a seat and casting nervous glances around the luminescent hall.
“Emily,” she introduced, extending her hand toward Elizabeth. The two girls exchanged warm smiles, their hands clasping briefly.
“Elizabeth?” Emily continued, her voice laced with an inquisitive edge. “Why are we not allowed to stay up all night?”
“I’m not quite sure,” Elizabeth admitted, her tone thoughtful. “What do you think Josephine meant by ‘midnight’? The witching hour, perhaps?”
“Nah, that’s impossible,” Emily retorted, her voice barely above a whisper, worry etching across her face.
As dusk settled over the enchanted hall, Elizabeth rose and stretched, the energy of the day washing over her.
As the afternoon sun cast warm golden rays through the window, she and Emily found themselves deeply immersed in a spirited conversation about the enchanting world of magic.
Their chatter flowed effortlessly, weaving together vivid stories from their favorite fantastical novels, like the adventures of brave wizards and sly fairies. They exchanged delightful anecdotes filled with whimsical spells and extraordinary creatures, each more wondrous than the last.
Laughter erupted as they played imaginative games, pretending to cast spells with imaginary wands, their eyes sparkling with excitement as they created elaborate scenarios that transported them far beyond the confines of their everyday lives. The air was thick with creativity, making every moment feel like a page out of an enchanting tale.
Emily’s smile radiated warmth, even as she once again stumbled in their game, unable to transport her little soldier across the miniature battlefield in their game, ultimately losing once again.
“I wish I could get my hands on those swords,” Elizabeth sighed suddenly, a heaviness creeping back into her thoughts.
How could a spirit so vibrant be confined to a life so predictable?
Life without the exhilarating rush of true adventure felt painfully mundane, as if she were just a passenger in her own existence.
She yearned to break free from fragile boundaries, to soar through starlit skies, and perhaps embark on her own epic adventures, filled with thrilling moments that would bring her heart alive.
Yet, Emily seemed to harbor a different perspective. As she listened patiently to Elizabeth express her yearning to be a guardian of sorts, a frown creased her forehead. After Elizabeth finished speaking, Emily regarded her with a pained expression, shaking her head gently, as if sensing the weight of a reality Elizabeth had yet to grasp.
After a moment of stillness, Emily wrapped her arms around Elizabeth in a tender embrace, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. They lingered in silence, the world outside fading away, cocooned in a moment of warmth and connection.
For Elizabeth, it was an indescribable sensation, perhaps the best feeling she had ever known.
But nestled in the warmth of Emily’s arms, an urgent whisper tugged at her heart, hinting at something profoundly significant that she had overlooked earlier. She felt an indescribable pull, as if something grand awaited her—a calling she was just beginning to understand.
It was a whisper of destiny, an invitation she felt deeply, hinting at an adventure just beyond her reach.
Just as she prepared to pour herself another glass of bubbly champagne, a glimmer of something caught her eye. It was a slip of folded paper resting on the polished wooden desk, its edges slightly rumpled as if it had been waiting patiently to be noticed. The warm glow of the room seemed to dance off the paper, inviting her curiosity to unfold its hidden message.
Elizabeth waited until everyone had departed, then quickly retrieved the letter and began reading:
“I have already discovered your secrets. We are special; we do not belong here in the Ethereal House.
We have been blessed, but the blessing is also a curse; they infused themselves into us, guiding us toward immortality.
Meet me in the living room tonight at midnight. I will tell you everything I know.
We have a quest to save our institution from the Evil Scarlet.
Sorry, I cannot share more now, as this letter might fall into the wrong hands.
P.S. I also hear voices echoing inside me when I encounter trouble, offering helpful clues and information. I think you've probably experienced the same feeling too.
Trust me.
From the main counselor in S.I.”
Elizabeth's wristwatch beeped.
She cast a fleeting glance at it, the hands hovering at three minutes to midnight, casting a foreboding shadow in the dim light of the room. Her heart raced, each beat echoing in her ears like the distant tolling of a clock.
With a sense of urgency, she rose from her chair, her footsteps barely making a sound against the wooden floor as she began to pace restlessly. The chill of the night crept in through the slightly ajar window, causing her to shiver involuntarily. She peered into every darkened corner of the room, her breath quickening as she half-expected to find someone lurking there, hidden somewhere.
The furniture loomed like silent sentinels, and she could almost convince herself that eyes were watching her from the depths of the darkness. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and the chill of the night seemed to seep into her bones, intensifying the sensation that she was not alone.
Suddenly, a voice spoke behind her, "Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth spun around, her heart racing, and her gaze landed on a captivating woman. The lady stood poised, her luxurious shoulder-length hair cascading like molten gold down her back, shimmering softly in the dim light. Sharp, piercing eyes sparkled with a fierce intelligence, catching the faint glimmers of the darkness surrounding them, as if they held secrets waiting to be unveiled.
"You must be?" asked Elizabeth bravely.
"Veronica de Angelo." The lady said without emotion.
She then indicated Elizabeth right through the armchairs and reached the end of the room, where the painting of the crystal orb stood.
"This ain’t any normal painting; this is the place where all magic arises." Whispered Veronica as she touched the canvas where the orb had been painted, or at least looked as if it had been painted.
In a matter of seconds, the orb began to emit a radiant, pulsating glow that illuminated the surrounding area with a warm, inviting light.
Its surface shimmered with hues of deep azure and vibrant gold, as if capturing the essence of twilight and dawn in a single mesmerizing sphere.
The very air around it seemed to vibrate with energy, creating a tangible sense of anticipation that hung thick in the atmosphere.
And a voice, crisp and ethereal, rang inside Elizabeth, "Make me proud, Elizabeth, you are the chosen one. I will protect you. Go inside and accept the power I shall give to you."
Elizabeth's pulse quickened as she darted her gaze around the dimly lit room, every corner shrouded in an unsettling hush that seemed to swallow sound whole.
The air was thick with tension, leaving her senses tingling with an eerie anticipation.
Veronica stood across from her, radiating warmth and energy, a broad smile illuminating her face like a beacon in the shadows.
"Stop pretending, Elizabeth; you can hear it too," she declared, her voice imbued with a playful challenge, as if she were inviting Elizabeth into a secret that was too exciting to ignore.
In that pivotal moment, the luminous orb hovering between them pulsed with intensity, its outer shell shimmering in a kaleidoscope of colors, each hue more vibrant than the last.
Wisps of crystalline vapor spiraled dramatically from its surface, coiling and unfurling like ghostly ribbons in the air. Suddenly, a beautifully crafted wooden door emerged from the swirling mist, the rich mahogany grain glistening as if freshly polished.
A gleaming doorknob, made of solid gold, materialized with elegant precision, casting delicate shadows that flickered and danced under the orb’s warm, evocative glow.
“What are we gonna do next?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes wide with anticipation. Veronica leaned against the ornate wall, a smirk playing on her lips. “You are going to choose,” she replied, her tone casual yet weighted with significance. “You can remain a spy within the enigmatic confines of the Ethereal House, return to Midgard where everything is predictable, or take the plunge and open the door to embrace your true specialty.”
Elizabeth stepped closer, her hands instinctively pausing midair, caught in a moment of hesitation. With the choice so clear in front of her, doubts crept in like shadows.
Wasn’t her, just a few hours ago, proclaiming a thirst for something exhilarating, something that would break the monotony of life?
Weren't the dreams she shared with Emily, filled with sword fights and daring quests, the very essence of her longing for a life beyond the mundane? Yet, as she stared down the path before her, wasn’t there a nagging question echoing in her mind: was she truly ready for the epic journey that felt so alive in novels?
Could she truly become the heroine of her own story, or would she forever remain a shadow in Midgard, waiting for a spark that might never come? What if she stumbled and failed—would that mean she had let down not just herself, but everyone who believed she could rise above? Yet, isn’t there a deep-seated urge within her to test her limits, to venture into the wild even when fear grips her heart? Wasn’t it the very notion of failure that held her back, instead of shoving her toward greatness?
Could she afford to let fear dictate her choices, or was it time to truly step into the light and embark on her own legendary journey?
Yet, deep inside, she felt an undeniable spark of longing—a fierce desire to try, to explore, to embrace everything this new world had to offer.
The memory of her promise to Victoria, her sister whom she was determined to protect, flashed through her mind. The thought of disappointing her galvanized Elizabeth’s spirit. She couldn’t let fear keep her from taking a chance.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, something that felt like fate had offered her on a silver platter, and turning it down seemed unthinkable.
With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, prepared to confront the choice that would forever alter the course of her life. There was no turning back now; she had to make a decision. The exhilarating, dazzling fate waiting on the other side of that door beckoned her irresistibly, and she could feel the stirring of her adventurous spirit urging her to take the leap.
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With determination etched on her face, Elizabeth lunged forward, grasping the doorknob with both hands.
The soft click of the lock echoed like a thunderclap in the silence as she turned it confidently and pushed the door open with a gentle shove.
Almost simultaneously, a sturdy ladder crashed to the ground with a resounding thud, its wooden rungs worn and smooth from years of use, inviting them to ascend into the unknown depths of the mist-laden realm before them.
But as they clamored up the ladder, the walls of perception exhaled sharply, and Elizabeth felt reality warp around her.
What she had assumed to be an ordinary room spiraled away, replaced in a heartbeat by the tumultuous embrace of the vast ocean.
She and Veronica were catapulted into a churning sea of sapphire waves, the salty spray biting at their skin as they struggled against the currents, the horizon a shimmering line of gold where the sun kissed the water’s edge.
“Hey, stay relaxed, it's no big deal.”
Elizabeth turned and found Veronica gliding toward her, "Here is where we belong."
Elizabeth swam deeper and deeper, and soon her lack of oxygen had made her mind dizzy.
"Breathe, babe." A voice rang inside her.
With her eyelids pressed together as though blocking out the world, Elizabeth took a tentative, shallow breath, half-expecting the voice to play tricks on her.
Yet, to her astonishment, a wave of crisp, invigorating oxygen surged into her lungs, filling her with the sweet essence of nature, as if each breath pulled in the fragrance of blooming wildflowers and the richness of the earth after rain.
"This is fantastic!" exclaimed Elizabeth as they landed on the seabed beyond.
“Wait—we belong here?"
"Indeed, everyone possessing a goddess or god's soul integrated within their own is capable of this feat—soulblenders,” Whispered Veronica earnestly.
“Following the terrible Ragnarok, the bodies of all gods perished and decayed over time. However, their souls remain perpetual. These souls seek out human beings in Midgard who exhibit traces of magic akin to their own, and they pour their essence and magical power into these humans, guiding them toward victory.”
“It remains quite unbelievable, I mean—" Elizabeth laughed.
“Your ability to breathe underwater and hear voices others cannot perceive are both clear indications that you are extraordinary,” Veronica whispered firmly.
She paused and went on, “Here, visit our underwater headquarters, the only place capable of safeguarding our kind. Welcome to the Soulblenders Institute!”
The S.I. stood majestically on the flat expanse of a shimmering seabed, resembling a fantastical vision brought to life. Picture hundreds of thousands of dazzling homes, each crafted from iridescent seashells and lustrous pearls, lining the streets like glimmering jewels. The delicate embellishments of fine silver added a touch of elegance, reflecting the sunlight and casting scattered rainbows across the ground, embellished with delicate silver accents that twinkled like stars against the azure backdrop.
Towering beside these exquisite dwellings were myriad trees adorned with leaves in various shades, their greenish hues soaring high into the sky, creating a lush canopy that danced gently in the salty sea breeze.
The roofs, artfully layered with sand that sparkled in a multitude of vibrant hues, resembled a painter’s palette. The streets and buildings were reminiscent of our own, yet they radiated an otherworldly splendor, each corner revealing artistic details that caught the eye.
The pavement was uniquely fashioned from the warm, rich soil seemingly flowing from the seabed itself. This was lovingly blanketed with a velvety layer of seagrass, inviting bare feet to connect with nature.
In this enchanting locale, an abundance of seahorses were tethered near colorful garden fences, their vibrant forms animated as they conversed with their companions. They tugged playfully at their chains, their curious eyes sparkling, while munching on the delectable seagrass surrounding them.
Scattered nearby were winged children, their laughter ringing like chimes in the air. Some were deeply engrossed in creative scribblings on the ground, while others frolicked with the seahorses, who turned away with a snort of mock impatience, their tails flicking.
At the heart of this vivid landscape loomed a grand marble house, its size rivaling that of a majestic cathedral. Adorned with rich decorations of amber and fine silver, it appeared to shimmer with an ethereal glow, reminiscent of an illusion Elizabeth had encountered aboard the ship.
This architectural marvel beckoned her forward, igniting a familiar sense of wonder.
As the deep, resonant toll of a bell rang through the air, a spectacular sight unfolded. A throng of winged beings burst forth from the main building, riding on magnificent seahorses. Their silvery hair flowed behind them like ribbons of light, and their harmonious voices sang across the open space, blending beautifully with the sounds of the sea.
"You may serve as an intern here for two months," a commanding voice proclaimed with clarity, cutting through the jubilant atmosphere. "During this time, you will master combat skills, learn the art of quick reflexes, and cultivate the ability to improvise. At the end, only the bravest will earn their place."
Veronica led Elizabeth to a small, unassuming shack that stood in stark contrast to the surroundings—a glimpse into the chaos of her new reality.
Heart racing, she inhaled deeply, her fingers trembling on the doorknob. With a determined twist, she opened the door and stepped inside, instantly engulfed by the whirlwind of sights and sounds.
The interior erupted in mayhem, with apprentices chatting excitedly while engaging in frantic spell-casting, their laughter interspersed with the clattering of swords clashing against one another.
Amongst the chaos, Elizabeth scanned the chaotic scene, spotting younger interns experimenting with potions, many of whom were her age. They were engaged in various levels of training—some bending bows with concentrated effort, while others collided swords in a cacophonous display of enthusiasm. Nearby, younger children rolled around joyfully on the dirt-smeared floor, oblivious to the stern counselor overseeing their antics. In the far corner, she spotted a composed girl, older and seemingly wise beyond her years, who quietly sketched intricate images on the ground with deft, steady hands.
As if on cue, Veronica, their stern counselor, strode in, exuding an aura of authority. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her posture radiated disapproval. With a sharp clap of her hands, the cacophony fell silent, all eyes darting toward her, the air thick with tension.
"Haven't I told you enough times," she announced, her voice cutting through the stillness, "that only six of you shall remain after this internship? Prepare yourselves!" With her words echoing in the still air, the door slammed shut with a resonating thud.
"Such a bossy one," Elizabeth overheard a fellow intern mumble under their breath, a mix of empathy and frustration evident in their tone.
Seeking refuge from the frenzy, Elizabeth found solace in a secluded corner, her heart pounding as she absorbed the overwhelming sensations. Just then, a soft voice broke the silence—a woman approached, offering Elizabeth a sharp, blood-stained sword. It glinted ominously in the dim light, a relic of battles fought and lessons learned.
The ensuing weeks were relentless, each day beginning with the crack of dawn. Elizabeth trained fervently, her body weary yet her spirit unyielding. Aside from brief meals, her days became a relentless cycle of combat practice with a dwindling group of dedicated fighters.
Gradually, she honed her instincts; the sting of a sword slashing toward her chest no longer elicited panic, nor did the pain of a new scar distract her. Instead, her instincts sharpened—she mastered the art of dodging and charging with precision, gaining invaluable knowledge about antidotes and healing strategies from the woman who had given her the sword.
What drove her most were the triumphs she tasted in her battles; victories that filled her with a deep-seated satisfaction, keeping her awake with exhilaration long into the night.
———————————————————————
Thud! Crunch!
The heavy door didn’t merely open—it swung forth with an explosive force, crashing against the wall.
Elizabeth woke with a start, her heart racing, and quickly scrambled upright. Panic flickered in her eyes as she glanced at her wristwatch, the numbers blurring through the haze of sleep.
“How could I oversleep?” she gasped, disbelief mingling with fear.
“Sleepin’, eh? That’s how you lot repay me? Taking it easy every single day?” The voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. It belonged to Veronica, who strode into the room with an air of authority, her presence palpable like a storm about to break.
“Haven’t I told you before? Not everyone can afford to slack off. If you keep this up, I promise you, your end isn’t gonna to be a whole lot of fun,” she continued, her eyes scanning the room with disdain.
Veronica’s gaze landed on a boy no older than Elizabeth, barely tall enough to meet her defiant stare. Without hesitation, she marched over, snatched a gleaming silver sword from the corner, and pointed it at him with an almost predatory intensity.
“You! Come here. Fight with me. Let’s see what you’ve really got. If you think ‘taking it easy’ will get you anywhere, think again.” The kid stood up, hesitating, his eyes wide with a mix of uncertainty and fear.
But Veronica wasn’t going to give him a chance to hesitate.
She gripped him by the collar, pulling him forward with surprising strength.
“C’mon, punk! You must’ve trained hard, right? Or are you too scared to face me?” she taunted, drawing back her sword and charging at him.
The atmosphere was charged with tension; it almost felt absurd.
Elizabeth watched the scene unfold, a part of her wanting to intervene, as she sat there, frozen on the spot.
It was pretty hilarious. Oh, god, I hope you’re there.
With a swing of her sword, Veronica cut through the air, her movements precise and deadly. The boy flinched, panic overtaking him as the sword slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground with a resounding thud.
The blade, now unsheathed, bit harshly into his shoulder. A scream erupted from his lips, his eyes wide with shock as he saw the crimson trickle of blood flowing down his arm.
“Feeling tough now, huh? C’mon—” Veronica sneered, yanking her sword back and slashing toward him again. The blade sliced through the air, a brilliant flash of silver, silencing everyone in the room as they held their breath.
Veronica yanked her sword from its sheath, its blade catching the light as she swung it through the air. The sharp edge cut a gleaming arc, a flash of silver slicing through the heavy atmosphere, causing the surrounding silence to thicken as if everyone momentarily held their breath.
“Hey, stop, challenge me, coward—”
Veronica’s sword abruptly halted mid-swing. She spun around, her eyes narrowing as she locked onto the source of the voice.
From across the room, Elizabeth stood up, eyes blazing with fierce determination.
“Yeah, you’re afraid?” Elizabeth’s voice rang out, laced with defiance.
“Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that!” Her heart raced as she gripped the blood-stained sword, steeling herself for battle.
“Oh, right, you think you've got what it takes?” Veronica replied, a low chuckle escaping her lips as she brandished her sword.
In a flash, Veronica lunged, her blade raised high above her shoulder. It met Elizabeth’s with a violent clang, a shower of sparks flying from the impact. Elizabeth barely had time to react as the force knocked against her shoulder, sending a jolt of pain through her body.
With a quick roll, Elizabeth ducked under Veronica’s next swing, leaping forward with newfound determination. Her sword arced through the air, cutting a line that struck true, slicing through Veronica’s knees. A stream of blood erupted from the wound, painting the ground below in a vivid crimson as Veronica grunted, disbelief flashing in her eyes.
“How on earth—” she gasped, the words barely escaping her lips as she stumbled backward.
Seizing the opportunity, Veronica retaliated, her blade glinting ominously as it met Elizabeth’s forearm with a brutal clash. Elizabeth felt her arms quiver under the force, but she refused to yield. With fierce intention, she caught Veronica’s blade and whipped it aside, forcing Veronica to grasp the hilt tightly to keep it from slipping away.
Without missing a beat, Veronica swung her sword again, delivering a harsh blow that cracked against Elizabeth’s forehead, pain radiating through her skull. Yet the fire in Elizabeth’s eyes burned bright, unrelenting.
She dodged to the side, countering with a powerful punch that landed squarely on Veronica’s shoulder. Veronica staggered back, eyeing the fresh wound with a mix of shock and fury.
Elizabeth saw her chance, her instincts kicking in.
With a swift move, she launched her blade through the air, knocking Veronica’s sword from her hands with a final, resounding crunch. Breathing heavily, both girls stood in tense silence as Veronica finally turned, retrieving her sword with a swift, practiced motion.
She shot one last menacing glance at Elizabeth, a promise of future encounters flickering in her dark gaze, before disappearing into the engulfing shadows of the room.
———————————————————————
Throughout her internship, Veronica made it a point to periodically drop by and observe the progress of the team. As Elizabeth focused intently on perfecting her shots and aiming her throws, she couldn't help but sneak glances at Veronica from the corner of her eye. There was something enigmatic about Veronica's expressions that intrigued and unnerved her. Elizabeth wondered if there was any lingering resentment from their altercation days earlier, and she felt an uneasy tension in the air. With each glance, she tried to read Veronica’s mood—was she scrutinizing Elizabeth's every move, or was she simply observing with a neutral gaze?
Veronica’s expression was often inscrutable, yet in fleeting moments, the counselor's gaze would meet hers, accompanied by the slightest nod—an encouragement that fueled Elizabeth's determination.
On the last day of her internship, Elizabeth’s heart raced with a blend of hope and dread as Veronica entered, clutching a list tightly in her hand.
The air crackled with anticipation, thick with the collective breath held by the interns.
As Elizabeth took her place among her peers, she prayed silently, hoping against hope that her name would be called. Minutes dragged on, each second stretching into an eternity as the soft breeze outside fluttered through the cracks, brushing against her skin, while scattered leaves danced to the ground. Yet time inside seemed frozen, the tension palpable.
One by one, the fortunate interns rose, joyously hugging their friends and erupting into triumphant cheers. With each announcement, Elizabeth’s heart sank a little deeper, her hope dimming with every name called, the gnawing realization digging deeper into her.
The feeling of inadequacy began to creep into her thoughts, whispering doubts about whether she had ever truly belonged, perhaps she had never been worthy enough to stay, merely another moment lost in a sea of talent and strength.
Despair threatened to consume her as she dared to lift her gaze upwards. Just as she teetered on the edge of hopelessness, contemplating an escape into the woods, she heard a name—a name that ignited a flame of hope within her.
Veronica's lips twitched as she uttered the final name, "Elizabeth Jordan."
Elizabeth could scarcely believe her ears. She rose from the ground and slowly approached Veronica, who returned a subtle smile.
"Now, the six of you, follow me," Veronica said.
Elizabeth followed curiously behind Veronica, who was riding a stout seahorse, into the Grand Cathedral. Inside, rows of wooden seats encircled a central area where a higher platform stood. A trapdoor was partially left ajar in a corner behind the platform.
Elizabeth's curiosity about what lay beyond the door was cut short as Veronica bypassed it, entering a spacious clearing at the back of the building, where a large golden-carved fountain stood. In front of the fountain, a group of winged beings awaited.
Upon seeing Veronica, they hurried to greet her. Veronica smiled and motioned for them to approach.
“To the Yggdrasil, I’ll inform the newcomers.”
They nodded obediently and formed a straight line toward the fountain.
Before Elizabeth could even begin to grasp what was happening, they vanished into the shimmering waters of the fountain with a soft, almost magical pop. "Hold my hand!" Veronica exclaimed, her grip firm and reassuring as she intertwined her fingers with Elizabeth's. Without warning, an invisible force pulled them into the depths of the fountain. A rush of fear coursed through Elizabeth; she squeezed her eyes shut, the sound of a splashing wave reverberating like a thunderclap in her ears.
To her surprise, even as she realized she was submerged, there was only a warm, comforting breeze caressing her skin.
Then, as her feet found solid ground, she blinked in amazement, standing alongside her companions near a colossal tree trunk. It towered majestically before them, its gnarled roots snaking through the earth like ancient hands reaching for the sky.
“Let’s give a grand welcome to our new members at the Soulblender Institute!” Veronica proclaimed, her voice ringing with excitement as she gestured widely.
With a mix of trepidation and anticipation, the six newcomers, Elizabeth among them, stepped forward into the vibrant clearing. Their nervous glances flitted around,
She beckoned them forward, and six individuals, including Elizabeth, hesitantly stepped forward into the vibrant clearing. Their eyes darted around in awe and uncertainty, their heart thumping with a mix of anticipation, taking in the enchanting surroundings filled with golden sunlight filtering through the canopy above and the sweet scent of blooming flowers that filled the air.
Elizabeth's gaze was drawn irresistibly to the tree.
Wasn’t this the same magnificent tree that had spirited her and Victoria away to the wondrous realm of Alfheim?The familiar sight sent a thrill racing through her veins, as if the universe were calling her back to adventure once more.
At that moment, Veronica addressed them, cutting Elizabeth off from her daily daydreams, "All of us here had activated our magical wings here, by the Yggdrasil. And today, it is your turn. Now I want all of you to listen carefully—when you kneel beside the Yggdrasil, it will activate your inner magic. After the blanket came, press your entire palms against the rough bark. If the ground starts to shake, do not ever remove your palms. Do I make myself clear?”
All nodded thoughtfully.
“Well, then, form a circle around the tree and follow the instructions I have given you. Good luck!" Veronica instructed, snapping her fingers occasionally.
Elizabeth knelt beside the tree cautiously, as did the others. She could feel its gentle vibrations stretched through her arms. Soon, golden blankets began to fall over their shoulders.
Elizabeth felt a flicker of excitement as the warm, glittering cloth settled around her. At the same time, she felt a stir start in her inner side, sending the quiver of expectation all over her body. She closed her eyes and pressed her palms firmly onto the trunk.
The ground trembled violently, as if it was gonna split away and drag Elizabeth with it. She heard faraway screams echoing so loudly in her eardrums that it hurt as she struggled to keep her hands in place.
The scratchy trunk under her palms cracked open, releasing boiling golden liquid. It was bubbling all over the place, and as her palms grew numb by the second, she lost control of them.
But she did know that her palms were sliding downwards, as if peeling away from the trunk, since she could no longer feel the tree trunk trembling under her hands.
Minutes later, her fellows all let out gasps of surprise as two majestic, white eagle wings emerged from their backs.
But Elizabeth felt nothing but a blur over her eyes. Her entire swollen palms grew sore. And she felt a rush of dizziness, and an overwhelming stupor hanging over her body.
By the time she heard Veronica's whistle, the heaviness of the blanket on her shoulders was suddenly lightened.
Elizabeth trembled and sank to the ground; ashes fell from her coat. She stared, horror-struck. And she didn’t need to ask to find out what had reduced to ashes.
Straightening up, Elizabeth gaped at Veronica, but Veronica was just as stunned as she was.
As the tree's warmth faded, Elizabeth glanced around. The winged beings whispered and pointed, celebrating the success of the others.
A wave of shame overwhelmed her.
Veronica coughed softly, and the crowd hushed.
“Good, all of you, well done.” Still, she waved at the newcomers encouragingly, though her voice was oddly restrained. "However," with a sharp snap of her finger, her tone turned serious, "as a member of our society, you must complete a task to prove your spirit and courage. You will receive your first assignment one week from now." She then motioned for Elizabeth and two others to follow her before turning to leave.
"You will remain there," Veronica said, indicating a small pearl hut near the flowerbed. She led them to this structure between the cathedral and a vast clearing.
"The lock," she said, pointing to a large pearl key with chains.
Inside, the atmosphere was remarkable. Caribbean blue cushions were stacked in a thick blanket on the ground. Three plush armchairs occupied a corner, the ceiling was high, and a pearl chandelier hung overhead. The scent of seaweed permeated the air.
Decorations of sapphire and silver adorned the room, with a large marble table at its center. They sat down awkwardly on the sofa, scanning the room.
Just then, the lady sitting next to Elizabeth broke the silence. Elizabeth suddenly recognized her, the lady who had nearly drowned back on the ship; her deep sapphire-blue eyes were glinting with sagacity, and a pair of golden spectacles had been placed neatly on her hooked nose.
"Penelope McQuillan." The lady said, smiling. She held out her hand, and the other two shook it.
"Percy Harrison." The man said with a yawn.
"Well, what do you reckon our task shall be?" asked Elizabeth curiously.
"I dunno, but it must be difficult, or I won't be sweating all day in my internship, you know, every night I was praying to be chosen. Do you know something about our task?” Whispered Penelope, turning to Veronica.
Veronica, who was folding her hands to her chest, listened curiously. Standing up, her emerald eyes beaming.
"Just praying our task won't be too difficult. Now, I'd like to show you another miracle."
They locked the door and walked out of the house. Veronica handed each of them a turquoise pill.
Elizabeth gazed at her pill, it was glimmering inside her palms. Noticing that she was supposed to ingest it, Elizabeth appeared hesitant.
She thought for a moment, then finally decided to bet on it. Shutting her eyes, she swallowed the pill in a gulp. Yet suddenly, a strange surge of vitality swirled within her body. Elizabeth felt a sudden churn of energy coursing through her.
Without her noticing, her hands tingled with vibrant green flames in a hush.
"Look at your hands!" Penelope exclaimed.
Elizabeth observed her hands and was in shock to see emerald-green flames flickering above her palms. She raised her hands aloft, summoning an energy bolt that soared into the sky.
"Good luck!" Yelled Veronica as she strode away.
"Terrific!" beamed Percy as all three of them thrust their energy bolt hard toward the ground. With a loud bang, breathtaking beams of iridescent light soared from every direction, forming an incredible rainbow in midair; shimmering in spectacular glows.
“Oh my god—” Whispered Elizabeth as she snapped her fingers; the lights extinguished immediately.
Yet suddenly a gush of emptiness overwhelmed her.
She felt the flames were consuming her energy, and before she could prevent it, thick blood ran down from her nostrils, and she had to rest.
Dragging her exhausted body back into the house, Elizabeth threw herself on the squashy armchair. Percy locked the door and sat down next to her. Elizabeth glanced down at her watch. It was nearly the crack of dawn.
"Let us rest," Penelope suggested as she ascended upstairs to the second floor.
Elizabeth waved goodnight to her friends. And she turned to enter her bedroom with the label 'Elizabeth Juliet Jordan' etched on the door.
Her room was small yet exquisite. A huge seashell stood near the bed, with silky curtains surrounding it.
A small fitting room stood near the restroom, with fantastic carvings decorating the walls. A sculpture of a spinning wheel stood quietly at the bedside table; it spun around by itself, weaving golden and silvery threads that turned into ethereal, multicolored cloud nets that swooped overhead and evaporated in midair.
Etched on the sculpture was a single letter 'F'.
Inside the large seashell, she found a feather with golden words etched on it: 'Fensalir'.
Elizabeth put the feather and the sculpture back into the seashell, then sighed.
Was this all her imagination that she was a soulblender with immense magical power?
Elizabeth smiled as she closed her eyes.
At least for now, she was safe here, and that's enough.
But Elizabeth had no idea about what was waiting for her.