Nyra hesitated at first...
The air around her seed to still, as if the world itself held its breath. Before her stood a woman whose beauty was not of this earth; she was radiant, silver-white, and shimring with an otherworldly glow.
Her presence was both soothing and unnerving, like the calm before a storm. Nyra felt the weight of sothing ancient, sothing vast, pressing against her chest. This was no ordinary being. This was... sothing beyond comprehension.
For a mont, doubt clawed at her. Her instincts scread to run, to flee from the unknown. But Nyra was not one to back down. With a sharp exhale, she steeled herself and sat down, her crimson eyes locking onto the Lady in White with a fiery intensity.
"Alright," Nyra said with her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "So, are you finally going to tell who you are?"
This ti, her tone was firm, less wary, and more commanding. She wasn't asking. She was demanding.
The Lady in White chuckled with a sound so soft and lodic it seed to dance on the air. Her amusent was palpable, as if Nyra's impatience was a delightful little quirk she found endearing. Experience tales with My Virtual Library Empire
"As I've already said, little one," the lady began, her voice like a gentle breeze, "I have had many nas over my short millennia of existence." She folded her hands elegantly in her lap, her movents fluid and deliberate.
"So have called the Celestial Pearl. The boldest of adventurers have whispered my na as The Starry Companion. The drears, the poets, those with souls touched by art, have nad The Muse."
She paused, her lips curving into a small, almost nostalgic smile. "And most recently, a little child I t not too long ago called The Lady in White."
Nyra blinked, her expression being unreadable. Then, in true Nyra fashion, she crossed her arms, gave a slow nod, and said, "Mmm. Never heard of you. Yep."
The Lady in White laughed with a warm, genuine sound that seed to fill the space around them. It wasn't mocking; it was affectionate, as if Nyra's blunt honesty was a rare treasure. Her gaze softened, becoming almost maternal, patient, knowing, and filled with an infinite understanding.
"I'd be surprised if you had, little Nyra," she admitted while tilting her head slightly. "But… I had thought so of your people might still rember ."
Nyra's brows furrowed. "My people?"
"Yes."
A heavy pause hung between them, thick with unspoken aning.
"Wait," Nyra said, her voice being sharp. "You an humans?"
The Lady in White's lips curved into an amused smile, and she rested a delicate hand against her glowing cheek. "Oh my… Do you truly believe you are human?"
Nyra stiffened, her body going rigid. "I'm… not?"
The Lady's expression softened, her silver eyes filled with a quiet sadness. "Mmm. While it is true that your people share a connection with the humans, you are not the sa. The humans created by my sister were gifted superior ntal abilities. But your kind... were made for sothing else. Sothing greater. You were given superior physical capabilities."
Nyra stared at her, unblinking. The words felt wrong, like shards of glass cutting into everything she had ever known. They didn't fit. They didn't make sense. Her mind raced, trying to reconcile the truth being laid before her with the life she had lived.
"Humans have superior ntal abilities." Nyra scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Yeah, right. That's a joke. You're lying."
The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable, sharp, and raw. "Humans are nothing. They're at the very bottom of the slave hierarchy. And if I'm not human, then whatever I am was treated even worse than them."
She stood abruptly, the chair of white roses shifting beneath her with an almost imperceptible creak. Her hands clenched into fists, her body trembling with barely contained emotion. "So don't stand there and tell they're 'special.' Because from what I've seen, they're just as weak, if not weaker, than the rest of us."
The Lady in White sighed softly, her gaze never leaving Nyra. There was no anger in her eyes, no judgnt, only patience and understanding. She didn't rise from her seat. She didn't argue. Instead, she simply said, "There's no need for such fire, little Nyra."
Nyra's breath ca in sharp, uneven bursts, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to contain the storm raging within her.
"While it is true that humans possess great ntal power, it has long been dormant," the Lady continued, her voice calm and asured. She folded her hands in thought, her silver eyes distant, as if recalling a mory from another age.
"Their own blindness sealed it away. Their greed and ambition cloud their vision and limit their potential. It is not that they lack power... but that they can no longer see the gifts my sister gave them."
She let out a quiet hum, a sound that seed to resonate with the very air around them. Then, with a sudden shift in tone, she raised a delicate hand to her lips, her expression turning playful, almost mischievous.
"Oh dear, look at rambling. We've drifted far from our path, haven't we?"
Nyra blinked, caught off guard by the sudden lightness in the Lady's deanor. The tension in the air seed to dissipate, replaced by a strange, almost comforting warmth.
The Lady in White smiled, her luminous silver eyes locking onto Nyra's once more. "Let's leave this discussion for another ti. Right now, there's still room for one more question before he arrives."
Her gaze was steady, filled with an infinite patience that seed to stretch across the ages.
"Ask anything, little one."
Nyra let out a small, defiant "Hmph." before sinking back into her seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her crimson eyes flickered with thought, darting across the endless white garden as if searching for answers in the shimring petals. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until finally, she broke it.
"Alright then... where are we?" she asked, her voice being strong and demanding at first. But as the words left her lips, a cold unease began to creep into her gut. Her mind raced while piecing together fragnts of mory. Her tone wavered.
"Wait..." she murmured, her voice now barely above a whisper. "I rember... I was fighting that giant worm. I was—"
Her throat tightened, cutting off her words. A chilling realization slithered up her spine, icy and unrelenting.
"Am I... already dead?" The question escaped her lips as a fragile whisper, trembling with dread.
The Lady in White chuckled softly, the sound like a gentle chi in the stillness. She shook her head, her silver hair catching the light as if it were woven from starlight itself.
"Of course not, little Nyra," she said, her voice soothing yet firm. Her luminous silver eyes glead with an otherworldly light. "Thanks to the blood running through your veins, you were able to reach my sanctuary. Your soul is safe... for now."
Her gaze held Nyra's, steady and unyielding. "But the mont that blood runs dry—" she added, her tone calm yet final. "You will truly die."
Silence fell, thick and oppressive. Nyra's fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "So... I'm just waiting for the end?" she muttered, her voice hollow. "That's it? No way out?"
With her head lowered and her crimson eyes darkening with despair. "Is there no way for you to help ?"
The Lady in White tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. "Well," she mused, her voice carrying a hint of amusent, "so people these days call a goddess... but I am not one."
She lifted two slender fingers, the gesture deliberate and graceful. "That being said, there are two ways for you to escape death."
Nyra's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. "Two...?" she echoed, her voice barely audible.
"Tell . What are they?" she demanded with her voice sharp with desperation.
The Lady in White's expression remained calm, her silver eyes unreadable. "The first option," she began, her tone asured, "is for you to beco one of my flowers here in my sanctuary."
Nyra frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What?"
"What people call a'soul' is rely a recording of what you are. A whisper of yourself, made of pure energy. "And energy—" the Lady's voice was steady, unwavering"—is neither created nor destroyed. It only transforms."
She gestured gracefully to the glowing white flowers surrounding them, their petals shimring like fragnts of moonlight. "Using that energy, I could turn you into one of my flowers. That way, you would never die. You would remain here… in my garden. For all eternity."
Nyra's stomach twisted, a wave of revulsion washing over her. "That's not an option," she said instantly while shaking her head. "I'm not spending eternity as a flower."
The Lady in White smiled knowingly, as if she had expected this response. "I didn't think it would be."
"Then tell the second one," Nyra asked with her voice sharper now, edged with desperation.
For the first ti, sothing amusing flickered in the Lady's expression. A small, almost mischievous smile graced her lips. "Ah, the second option..." she mused, her tone light, almost playful.
She rose from her chair, her movents fluid and graceful, and turned toward the endless expanse of the white garden. "Well, that one depends on him."
Nyra blinked, her confusion deepening. "Him? Who—"
The Lady raised a hand, her silver eyes narrowing slightly. "It would be best if you covered your ears, little Nyra."
Nyra barely had ti to process the warning before the air around them shifted.
A presence appeared in the garden, thick, malevolent, and suffocating; it split through the tranquility of the garden like a blade. Black energy surged, writhing and twisting as if alive, filling the air with a palpable sense of dread. It was as if the darkness itself had awakened, hungry and unrelenting.
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