The mories of both her lives pressed against her mind, an unbearable flood of mories from two separate existences tangled together, making it difficult to distinguish past from present. She couldn’t tell what was connected to this life and what was her past, and that would be dangerous if she was going to blend in.
Morena sat up slowly, the silk sheets pooling around her waist as she exhaled, forcing herself to regain a calm mind, settling the flowing thoughts.
She needed order.
"AI."
She muttered, her voice still hoarse from sleep.
"Sort my mories into separate files and sub-files. Classify each main file as past life and current life, then sub-classify them as important and mundane."
[Processing request... Organizing mory data...]
A strange sensation washed over her—like a fog being lifted, revealing things that had been buried within her mind. It was as if all the thoughts ca to a silence. She could now sense her mories dividing, forming distinct, structured files in her consciousness, no longer tangled in a chaotic ss, ones she could access and understand with a re thought.
Her past life... she barely focused on it.
The images and emotions attached to that existence were blurred, incomplete. A world of technology, glass towers, and numbers. There was knowledge, but it was distant, lacking the vividness of her current reality. Had she been soone important? Who was she? What about her family, friends?
The details were frustratingly hazy, and she felt no urgency to dwell on them.
Instead, her focus shifted entirely to the present—this life.
[Current life files loaded... Displaying core information.]
A new wave of mories surfaced, clear and sharp.
She had been born noble, yet from the mont of her birth, her existence had been overshadowed by tragedy.
Her mother had died giving birth to her.
A woman she had no mories of, a ghost of the past who existed only in old paintings and whispered conversations, one that had haunted the heart and mory of her father for years.
Apparently, she was a lot like her. Her father often told her that, but she didn’t know how true it was.
After her death, her father, Damon Ravenscroft, remarried. It wasn’t one of love but rather necessity. His second wife was the daughter of a rchant, and she bore two more children—her half-siblings.
Her brother, twelve years old and the preferred heir in the eyes of the elder council. Not because of rit, but because of tradition. He was the firstborn male, and in this political landscape, it was the preferred choice.
And then there was her sister, sixteen, caught between worlds, a noblewoman with no defined role beyond political marriage.
Or rather, she would be, if not for her capabilities. She was born with an elental core, one she could use to beco a proper warrior, and because of this sole fact, she had a higher position in the eyes of the elder council than her.
And then there was her father, the man whose approval she had spent her life chasing.
Damon Ravenscroft.
A warrior first, a noble second.
A man who had not inherited his title but carved it out of blood and battle. He was a Rank 2 warrior, maybe not one of the strongest in the Brightburn Kingdom, but a man who had fought in the last great war and erged as an earl through his strength alone.
He was respected, feared, and admired.
Yet... even he doubted her.
She had been trained since childhood, expected to follow in his footsteps. She had been forged in the harsh discipline of the Ravenscroft lineage, enduring grueling lessons in swordplay, tactics, politics, education, and warfare.
Yet none of it mattered.
None of it could change the truth.
She was flawed.
[Elental core analysis... Displaying data.]
A sharp pulse went through her mind as information appeared, confirming what she already knew.
Elental warriors.
The foundation of power in this world, sothing even adults dread of being.
Unlike ordinary people, warriors were born special. They were born with an elental core. A core was vital to a warrior; without it, one could never be a warrior. It could absorb and refine elental energy from the environnt, strengthening their bodies, enhancing their speed, and even wielding the elental abilities tied to their elental affinity.
Fire, water, earth, wind, light, dark. Even elents such as ice, lightning, and so on existed.
Yet only 1 in 100 people were born with an elental core.
She was one of them—or rather, she should have been.
[User’s elental core: present, but severely damaged.]
[Current status: unable to sense or absorb elental energy.]
Her hands clenched into fists.
The core was supposed to be the source of her strength, the key to unlocking true power, and without it, she was no different from a commoner with a sword.
Her father had never admitted outright that she was a disappointnt, but she could see it in his eyes. The uncertainty, the hesitation. As much as he loved her mother, as much as he wanted to make her his heir, he couldn’t bring himself to commit.
The reason the elder council pushed for her brother instead.
It was not just because he was male. That tradition could be overlooked if she was strong.
No, it was because she wasn’t strong enough.
She inhaled deeply, forcing the anger back down.
She wasn’t going to accept this weakness.
She had an advantage—one that no one else in this world possessed.
"AI, analyze my elental core. Tell exactly what is damaged and what my options are."
[Understood. Scanning elental core damage...]
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