Out of nowhere, a translucent screen had appeared before her eyes, shimring faintly in the air like an otherworldly projection.
[System Notification]
Mission: Unite the Hearts!
Objective: Bring harmony to your three wives and strengthen their bond.
Details: Your wives are passionate but divided. To fulfill your role as the center of this union, you must find a way to bridge their differences and foster teamwork.
Reward: Personality Points
Penalty for Failure: Increased conflict (and potential destruction of everything you hold dear).
Ti Limit: Until they can stop arguing for at least five consecutive minutes without intervention.
"Potential destruction of everything you hold dear" wasn't exactly subtle. Argider had sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as another wave of bickering reached her ears.
"You call that precise? That was embarrassing!" Faeralys had taunted, her arms crossed as she hovered in the air, her fiery aura blazing like a second sun.
"At least I don't need to fly to dodge a simple strike," Fialova had shot back, her voice calm but cutting, her blade spinning with deadly grace.
"Oh, please," Esralda had chid in, tossing her hair with a dramatic flair. "Both of you are reckless. If anyone deserves to teach Argider, it's obviously . I have refinent."
Argider had let out a long, weary sigh, the mission notification still hovering in her vision like an uninvited guest. She had tried waving it away, but it stayed stubbornly in place, as though mocking her.
"Refinent?" Faeralys had echoed with a laugh, flas curling around her hands. "You tripped over your own vines ten minutes ago."
"Better than setting the entire courtyard on fire!" Esralda had snapped, vines rising around her protectively as she glared at the fire-wielding tsundere.
"Enough!" Argider had shouted, her voice cutting through the din. For a brief, miraculous mont, all three of them had stopped, turning to her with expressions ranging from surprised to mildly annoyed. "I have to study magic this ti. What about the three of you try to teach ?"
The late afternoon light spilled through the grand windows of the palace library, dappling the shelves of ancient tos in golden hues. The scent of old parchnt and leather-bound volus mingled with the faint hum of magical energy, a soothing atmosphere—at least until the voices of three very different won shattered the tranquility.
"I'm just saying," Faeralys said, crossing her arms and flipping her fiery hair over her shoulder, "if she's going to learn magic, she should start with fire. It's the most dynamic and versatile. Plus, I'd be the best teacher. No offense."
"That's laughable," Fialova shot back, leaning on a nearby table with her ever-present air of calm confidence. "If she learns fire first, she'll just burn everything down before she understands control. Lightning is sharper, faster, more precise. And, as a knight, I know how to teach discipline."
"You two are ridiculous," Esralda interjected with a dramatic sigh, seated languidly in a cushioned chair as though she were holding court. "Chlora magic is clearly the superior choice. It's elegant, refined, and—let's be honest—far less destructive. Argider deserves magic that matches her natural grace."
Argider, perched on a stool with a book clutched to her chest, watched the three of them argue with growing unease. Her wives' bickering had beco a common occurrence, but she couldn't help feeling like she'd unleashed sothing dangerous by ntioning her desire to learn magic. She cleared her throat, attempting to cut through the noise.
"Maybe I should just… figure it out myself?" she suggested weakly, though even she didn't believe it.
"Absolutely not!" the three chorused in unison, turning toward her with a level of intensity that made her instantly regret speaking.
"You need proper guidance," Faeralys insisted, planting her hands on her hips. "Otherwise, you'll end up like Esralda here, fumbling around with plants and hoping for the best."
Esralda gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know I've been remarkably successful with my Chlora magic. Besides, at least I don't set things on fire every ti I sneeze."
"That only happened twice!" Faeralys retorted, cheeks flushing.
Fialova pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly. "Enough. We're supposed to be helping her, not comparing egos. Let's focus on assessing her abilities."
The three turned their attention back to Argider, who suddenly felt like a specin under a magnifying glass. She shifted uncomfortably on her stool, clutching the book tighter. "I an… I don't even know where to start."
"That's the point of practice," Fialova said, her tone soothing. "Show us what you can do, and we'll go from there."
Argider hesitated, then reluctantly set the book aside and stood. She extended a hand, fingers trembling slightly. She had felt the stirrings of magic before—lightning crackling at her fingertips, heat building in her palms, the subtle pull of nature around her—but she had never dared to unleash it fully. Now, with all three of them watching, her heart pounded in her chest.
"Just… try not to destroy the library," Fialova added dryly, gesturing to the shelves of priceless books around them.
Argider closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath to steady herself. She focused on the thrumming energy within her, the tangled threads of lightning, fire, and Chlora magic that had been simring since Esralda unlocked her new potential. Slowly, she let it flow.
At first, it was beautiful. Sparks of electricity danced along her fingers, illuminating the dim corners of the library. Tiny tendrils of green began to sprout from the floor around her, curling upward like curious vines. A soft glow of heat radiated from her other hand, the flicker of flas casting warm shadows.
But then it all went wrong.
The sparks grew wild, jumping from her fingers to the surrounding shelves. The vines twisted and thickened, spreading rapidly across the floor and wrapping around the furniture. The flas flared, licking at the edges of the nearest table and sending a plu of smoke into the air.
"Stop! Stop, stop, stop!" Faeralys yelled, rushing forward to extinguish the flas with a blast of her own fire magic, which only added to the chaos.
"Watch where you're aiming!" Esralda snapped, pulling back as a vine nearly tripped her. "She's going to bring the whole place down!"
"Calm down," Fialova said, though her own voice was tinged with urgency as she used a blade of lightning to sever the encroaching vines. "Argider, focus! You're letting it get out of control!"
Argider panicked, the three conflicting elents in her magic surging wildly. She clenched her fists, trying to reign it in, but the energy only grew more chaotic. A bolt of lightning shot from her hand, striking a chandelier and causing it to swing precariously. The vines continued to spread, one of them knocking over a stack of books. The flas crackled louder, threatening to consu the table they had started on.
"Enough!" Fialova barked, stepping in front of Argider and placing a firm hand on her shoulder. Her touch sent a calming pulse of magic through Argider, cutting through the storm of energy. "Breathe. Let it go."
Argider exhaled shakily, the magic dissipating as quickly as it had erupted. The vines receded, the flas flickered out, and the lightning faded into a faint hum. The library was left in disarray—singed shelves, scattered books, and a lingering haze of smoke—but at least it was still standing.
Faeralys let out a low whistle, surveying the damage. "Well. That could have gone worse."
"Could it?" Esralda asked pointedly, holding up a book with a scorched cover. "This was an original text on early Chlora magic, and now it's ruined."
Argider's shoulders slumped, guilt washing over her. "I'm sorry. I didn't an to—"
"It's not your fault," Fialova interrupted, her voice gentle. "You have a lot of raw power, but no control yet. That's what we're here for."
"Raw power?" Faeralys repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's an understatent. She nearly burned the place down."
Esralda huffed, brushing ash off her dress. "Well, at least we know she's capable. Though clearly, she needs my guidance if she's ever going to master her Chlora magic."
"Your guidance?" Faeralys scoffed. "She'd be better off with . At least I know how to teach control."
"Oh, please," Esralda shot back. "You can't even control your temper, let alone soone else's magic."
Argider groaned, sinking into the nearest chair. "I'm beginning to think this was a mistake."
Fialova crouched beside her, offering a reassuring smile. "It wasn't a mistake. Learning magic takes ti, especially when you have as much potential as you do. Don't let their arguing distract you."
Argider glanced at the other two, who were now bickering loudly about whose teaching thods were superior. Despite the chaos, she felt a flicker of determination. "Fine," she said, straightening. "But if I destroy anything else, it's on all of you."
Fialova chuckled, standing and patting her on the shoulder. "Deal. Now, let's try again—but maybe outside this ti."
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