CHAPTER 66: CHAPTER 65 - THE VIOLET DAWN OF A CHOSEN

As if the crystal possessed a will of its own, the floating dodecahedral prism began to pulse slowly, releasing faint rhythmic light. The moment Mira’s bloodied palm touched its surface, the crystal reacted instantly.

The soft glow intensified, and the prism’s surface trembled slightly. Veins of light traced along its edges, flowing like living currents. Blood from Mira’s hand was drawn in, absorbed into the core of the prism like a stream of deep crimson.

Mira flinched.

Instinctively, she pulled her hand back a little, but she didn’t let go. Her eyes remained fixed on her palm, watching as the blood continued to flow into the crystal, unstoppable and precise.

A flicker of panic rose in her chest. She turned to Lyrienne, looking for answers. But the noblewoman remained silent, her calm gaze locked on the prism. Her expression alone was enough to assure Mira that everything was going according to plan.

Slowly, the fear began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of wonder.

After a few seconds, the blood flow stopped. Then the prism began to shift.

The blood inside did not vanish. Instead, it started to swirl, forming a miniature vortex as though reacting to some unseen alchemical force.

A red light emerged from deep within the prism.

"Red means Dull," Ashtoria said quietly, her voice steady and composed. "It’s only the beginning. The prism will continue changing until it finds the color that best reflects her nature."

Riven stood behind Mira, holding his breath. His eyes never left the crystal, as if he could determine his sister’s future by the pattern of its glow.

The red began to fade.

Gradually, the prism turned orange. The light pulsed softly, like the warm flicker of a lantern just before nightfall.

"Orange means Flicker," Ashtoria continued in an even tone.

Moments later, the orange shifted again. It brightened into a sharp, vibrant yellow, glowing like sunlight on polished gold.

"Yellow means Kindled. It’s the point where a person begins to have a strong potential to become Awakened," she explained.

Riven’s heart beat faster. He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

And then—it turned green.

But this time, the reaction was different. The green light burst outward from the prism, forming patterns like tree roots or spreading veins that danced in the air.

"Green means Attuned," said Ashtoria. "A level capable of walking the path of a Lawbearer."

Riven exhaled, a deep sense of relief filling him. That was more than enough. Attuned was a solid foundation. It meant real potential. He nodded slightly to himself, grateful and proud.

But the peace didn’t last long.

The green began to shift.

And then—blue.

This wasn’t just a shift in hue. The blue radiance surged out, reflecting across the ceiling and the floor. The prism began to rotate gently, and streams of blue light spiraled around it, orbiting like miniature stars.

Mira stood mesmerized. Her wide eyes sparkled as if witnessing a miracle from another world.

Lyrienne narrowed her eyes, her gaze sharp with focus.

"Blue means Resonant," Ashtoria stated flatly. "A rare and excellent talent."

Riven couldn’t speak. His sister... was Resonant. It was more than he had hoped for. That level of talent was usually only found among the elite of noble bloodlines. ’The world really is unfair,’ he thought—but this time, that unfairness had favored someone he loved.

And just as that pride settled in his chest, it happened.

A new light flickered inside the crystal.

Purple.

Just a speck. Barely noticeable.

But slowly... it grew. Swelling, consuming the blue spiral from within.

Within seconds, the entire prism had turned purple.

And it didn’t stop there. The violet radiance erupted—not as a beam, but like a river of magic, flowing and spinning around the room. The dark stone walls reflected the hue like twilight swallowing daylight whole.

Mira stood frozen. Her hand was still resting on the surface, now engulfed in shimmering violet.

Even Lyrienne, who had remained composed throughout the previous stages, couldn’t contain her reaction. Her eyes widened, and she drew a sharp breath before whispering in a trembling voice:

"No way... A-Rank Talent... Chosen."

Riven froze.

He felt weightless, as if the ground beneath him had shifted. Slowly, he turned to Ashtoria, searching her face for confirmation. She didn’t say a word but gave a faint nod.

In that moment, everything changed.

His little sister...

Mira...

was a Chosen.

Riven stared at her. She was still small, still innocent, but now bathed in the glow of a legacy that only a rare few had ever carried.

A few moments later, the violet light began to fade. It flowed gently back into the prism, swirling peacefully like a storm that had finally passed.

When calm returned, only one color remained.

Purple.

It rotated slowly within the now sacred-looking crystal.

Mira carefully lowered her hand and looked up at Riven, her eyes brimming with quiet hope.

Silence settled over the room again as the last traces of light dimmed and the prism continued its gentle spin, radiating a stillness that felt almost holy.

Ashtoria stood motionless, her composure untouched, although something in her eyes had softened.

Lyrienne, in contrast, looked completely disoriented. Her wide eyes hadn’t blinked since the violet glow appeared. Her body was stiff, as if even the slightest movement would shatter the moment.

But Riven...

Riven smiled.

A true smile. Wide, warm, and utterly sincere. His gaze never left the girl standing before him—his sister. The one he had raised and protected, now glowing with a light that marked her for greatness.

He opened his arms.

And without hesitation, Mira ran into them. She threw herself into his chest, crashing into his embrace with the force of a thousand unspoken emotions.

Riven laughed softly, lifting her off the ground like he used to when they were smaller, spinning her in one complete circle. Mira laughed along, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Did you see that? Huh?" Riven said, holding her close and looking right into her face. "You’re Chosen, Mira. You’ve got A-Rank talent. Do you even know how insane that is?"

Mira giggled, nodding. "It’s crazy! Like a dream!"

Riven ruffled her hair. "You know what that means, right? All that rice, soup, and bread I gave you growing up? Totally worth it!"

Mira squinted, still smiling. "So basically... I was your food investment?"

Riven burst out laughing. "Hey! Food’s expensive, alright? And you always ate like four people!"

Mira poked him in the ribs. "So I’m just your fattened cow now?"

"Whoa—no, no!" Riven backed up, grinning and shaking his head in mock surrender. "You’re not a cow. You’re... my little food-devouring sister."

She pinched his side, making him yelp.

When the laughter died down, Riven gently lowered her to the floor. His eyes softened as he looked at her—his voice quieter, deeper.

"You’re my sister. The one I’m most proud of in this world."

And for a moment, the world had no more need for words.

Behind them, Ashtoria observed in silence. Her expression appeared unchanged, but if one looked closely, they might notice something unusual. There was no smile on her lips, yet something in her stillness seemed to crack—just slightly.

It was the kind of stillness worn by someone who had never known what it felt like to be cherished, and who was now watching it unfold right in front of her.

Her hand curled slowly at her side. Not out of jealousy, but as if she were trying to grasp something that kept slipping through her fingers. A childhood she had never known. A home that had never existed.

Still, her gaze remained locked on Riven.

Not on Mira. Only on Riven.

And that gaze never left him.

Not even for a moment.

Lyrienne turned her face away and exhaled slowly, only now realizing she had been holding her breath the entire time.

And in the center of the room, beneath a vault of silent stone and shimmering echoes, the prism continued to spin.

As if to quietly acknowledge the presence of one marked by fate.

A Chosen.