Sora lunged for the closet wedged at the foot of her bed, fingers snatching garments as she pulled out clothing that were rather revealing, mostly on the thigh and waste area, that was her style since since she spent her time close to hot areas. As she dressed, a thought nagged at her— who knocks at this hour? Dawn's pale white light still clung to the windows.
Could it be that the sleep-stealing rebellion with the shimmering tablet cost her a client's patience?
There was only one way to find out.
As she made her way downstairs, the wooden staircase groaned under her feet. At the front door, she paused—checking herself to see if she was presentable, palms flattening the daring neckline, thumbs brushing wrinkles from her skirt that barely covered her entire thigh—before wrenching the old door open.
"Good morning," she breathed, a forced smile on her face, her words sugar-coated, already sculpting excuses for her tardiness.
The apology died on her tongue as she set her eyes on the visitor.
There was no impatient customer. Instead, a rather strange looking woman towered over her like a birch tree crowned in endless autumm—golden hair cascading like a golden river, her bangs in form of delicate cockscrew curls, eyes twin pools of lapis lazuli, the very gemstone Sora once ground into pigment for a fine blade. The woman was elegantly dressed in an ivory gown that hugged all parts of her body, revealing curves that would make the bravest merchants loose their way and poets fumble their quills, her luminous skin mirrored the light from the morning sun.
She is beautiful. The thought surfaced unbidden in Sora's mind.
And indeed she was.
The woman resembled a menacing figure, not solely because of her imposing height, surprisingly thick blue eyes. Behind her, four stone-faced guards stood sentinel, their gold armor glinting coldly, but from the giantess's warm and radiating smile—it was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, a little evidence that she was a kind soul with a motherly touch.
The moment the woman's eyes scanned Sora, something shifted, her face lighting up with pure joy as she gasped. Delicate hands flew to flushed cheeks like she was thrilled and at the same time, shocked to see Sora, "After long last, I finally found you!" Her voice, soft and delicate like her appearance curled around Sora like a hearthside embrace, laced with motherly affection.
Sora snapped out of her trance, realizing she had been staring in silence. The woman's appearance was truly enticing.
Sora's grip tightened on the doorframe. "Me?" The word stumbled out, her free hand rising involuntarily to jab at her own chest. Her brows collided, mirroring the tempest in her mind.
"Oh, apologies for rousing you from your slumber," the woman chimed, her lips curled into a subtle smile, she clapped her hands crisply. Her apology, however, carrying the absence of proper introduction.
Sora's brow arched like a drawn bow. How had this stranger perceived her vulnerable state? Dawn's light still clung to the horizon, so she swallowed the question—for now.
The woman cleared her throat before speaking. "I go by the title of Lady Sorelia the Third, one of the great consultants and high leaders of the Bureau of Knights. I would like to speak with you."
A crystalline silence descended as Sorelia stated her purpose. Sora's eyes widened in shock, breath hitched—not at the grandeur of titles, but the one word she'd hungered years to hear.
Knight.
Though, she still found something in what the woman said to be quite alien. She had heard various legends that whispered of orders that forged warriors, but this Bureau of knights was uncharted territory. Yet Sora dipped her chin, acknowledging Sorelia's presence by accepting her invitation.
Sora stepped backwards inside. She then swept an arm toward her humble abode. "Come in," she murmured softly.
This small gesture of acceptance filled Sorelia with immense joy, her eyes sparkling with triumph which Sora found quite uncanny. "Marvelous," she purred happily, her delicate fingers dancing like spellcasting spiders. Then, she turned slightly to the four knights behind her, and with a slight flick of her wrist to the knights behind her—they snapped and turned their backs on them, facing the rest of Titan Forge and the many people who continued with their morning routines.
Sora's gaze narrowed, watching curiously as her eyes traced their disappearance. What orders had been exchanged in that heartbeat? But Sorelia was already gliding inward. But as she dwelled on it, Sorelia casually stepped inside breaking her from her trance. As she did, she casually swept her palm sideways—and the door thudded shut, as though sealed by golden threads of unseen energy.
The loud sound from the door frame spun Sora around, glancing at Sorelia who's smile never wavered an at the door which was now shut. "The winds grow heavy these days," she offered, a brittle laugh clinging to her words.
Sorelia's smiled widened in an uncanny manner. "Indeed it does," her voice echoed like a velvet dagger, remarkably precise.
Sora motioned toward the dinning table, its polished oak surface gleaming like it had been newly cleaned. The candle from last night was nowhere to be found, like it had melted away. "You may sit if it pleases you, I'll brew us some tea." Sora offered, hospitality edges in her tone, but her pulse drummed a war chant.
Just as Sora turned to prepare the hot steaming refreshment for her so-called guest, Sorelia called out, "No, Sora—that won't be necessary," Sorelia interjected, her tone now honeyed, the cryptic edge replaced by a warmth that felt too practiced.
Sora froze. Her expression shifted from guarded wariness to pure terror.
Sorelia immediately noticed the lethal shift in the atmosphere. Sora's posture unraveled—shoulders tightening, eyes widened like a cornered animal. It was as of a defensive wall crukbled into raw, trembling dread.
Sorelia's gaze sharpened, concern flickering across her face. "What seems to be the problem?, has something gone amiss?" she inquired, her voice gentle as she tilted her head. But the room had already betrayed the truth: a strange coldness prickled the air, and Sora's breath came in shallow bursts.
Slowly, Sora's fingers around the back of the chair that was closer to her, gripping it tightly until her knuckles screamed.
Sora's fingers slowly curled around the back of a chair, gripping it tightly. As Sorelia observed this reaction, realization dawned upon her—she had said something wrong. Something obvious..
Slowly, Sora's fingers curled around the chair's wooden spine, grip whitening until her knuckles screamed. Sorelia stiffened, finally recognizing her fatal misstep.
From the moment of their meeting, Sora had never offered it. Not to the neighbors or even the townsfolk, not in the seventeen years she'd hidden in this nameless hamlet. Yet here stood a stranger who wielded it like a dagger meant for young assassins, how was it possible?
Before Sorelia opened her mouth to offer any explanation, Sora moved quickly, acting on instinct. Without hesitation and a feral snarl, she flung the chair at Sorelia, aiming for her chest.
But with a single flick of Sorelia's wrist, an effortless gesture, the chair halted midair, quivering as though pinned by a dozen ghostly hands that couldn't be seen by Sora. Dust motes swirled around its suspended legs.
Sora stumbled back in utter shock, her breath hitched, face drained if color. Magic. Real magic—not tavern tales or children's rhymes that her mother used to sing for her during her younger days. The kind that tasted of iron and ozone.
So. The the knights had been keeping secrets like this from society.
Sorelia sighed, the chair drifting gently to the floor. "Ah," she said, her smile bittersweet. "What a hospitable way to treat your guest" she added sarcastically.
Sora's jaw tightened, her fists clenched at her sides as she faced Sorelia, who remained completely carefree, lounging with infuriating nonchalance amid the tense atmosphere. "Tell me," she growled, her voice deepening, her pupils dilating as they glowed brightly with a dim golden light, "Who or what in the world are you?"
Sorelia gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her open mouth. "What am I? Now, that is not a very hospitable thing to say," she replied, her voice softer, almost as if she was enjoying the confrontation.
That only infuriated Sora even more. "Answer me!" she shouted, her voice echoing with raw frustration.
Sorelia's whole demeanor shifted instantly. "Now patience, little storm," she murmured, her voice suddenly warm but her expression betrayed such words. "After all, I'm here to unravel your mysteries—if you let me." Her eyes then suddenly changed, swirling with an eerie cosmic effect, pupils bleeding into an unnatural hue that froze Sora's core.
A grin spilt Sorelia's lips, exuding nothing but an unsettling and predatory aura of amusement. At that moment, the orange shimmering tablet materialized before Sora again, its glow etching a warning that haunted the young woman:
[Multiple high-level threats detected. Please proceed with caution.]
Multiple high-level threats? Sora's gaze darted. But there was only one person who stood there and that was Sorelia and she didn't seem to acknowledge the tablet's existence—almost as if she wasn't aware of its presence. Yet, that vacant, unsettling smile made Sora feel as though she was being watched from every possible angle, like as if eyes crawled over her skin.
The tablet began to distort, and a new message appeared, that would humble the Sora:
[Number of threats detected: 100000000000000000000000]
Sora glanced at the numbers and at Sorelia who already noticed the fear in her body, like she was aware that Sora knew of her terrifying and unknown ability. Sora's body began to quiver.
But she needed to stay calm. She had no idea what this woman was capable of, and she wasn't ready to find out the hard way. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself before locking eyes with Sorelia. Her expression remained composed. "You're going to answer every question I ask," she demanded.
Sorelia clapped her hands together, her eyes gleaming with childlike excitement. "Of course," she said. "Why don't we begin by taking a seat?" She gestured toward the chairs.
Sora hesitated but ultimately obliged, lowering herself onto one. Sorelia followed, settling into the chair opposite her, positioning herself so she could meet Sora's gaze directly.