Listening to her, I found myself entranced by the childlike quality that infused her voice. It was a voice that seemed to come from a place of naivety and purity, yet it held an alluring undercurrent of something older, something beyond the years she appeared to possess. There was a melodic cadence to her speech, drawing me in like a hypnotic melody. It was as if her words possessed a mystical power, gently coaxing and ensnaring my attention, tempting me to explore the depths of her enigmatic persona.
As fear tightened its grip on me, I couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread that accompanied her presence. The implications of her question weighed heavily on my mind, and I was acutely aware that my answers could determine my fate in this encounter. Struggling to control the trembling in my body, I managed a hesitant nod, my head moving upward and then downward in a motion that conveyed my assent. It was a gesture that spoke louder than words, a silent affirmation that confirmed her inquiry.
In response, her gaze locked onto mine, her eyes penetrating into the depths of my being. I could practically feel the weight of her disappointment emanating from her, a palpable sense of dissatisfaction that seemed to seep into the very air around us. The hiss that escaped her lips was not just a sound, but a manifestation of her displeasure, a stark reminder of the perilous territory I now found myself navigating.
In that moment, time seemed to hang suspended, the tension between us almost tangible. I struggled to maintain eye contact, feeling the weight of her presence like an oppressive force. Her disappointment seemed to linger in the air, casting a shadow over the fragile thread of communication that had been established between us. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to flee, to escape the danger that she represented, yet I remained rooted in place, a mixture of fear and curiosity keeping me in check.
The dichotomy of her voice and the aura she projected was overwhelming. The cuteness that disguised her lethal intent, the innocence that hid the ancient darkness within her, these contradictions danced in the air like an intricate web, trapping me in its intricate threads. I realized that I was caught in a delicate balance, teetering on the precipice of a decision that could seal my fate.
"This is a waste of time," she stated flatly, her gaze swinging towards the door. "The three of you can come out from behind the door. I have tested this master's son, and I can confidently say he is a disappointment."
I seethed inwardly at her assessment of me, the flames of anger fanned by her words. But the fear she had injected into me with the unleashing of her intense bloodlust kept my voice locked in my throat. The retorts I yearned to unleash remained a silent storm within.
Then, the significance of her mention of "three of you" struck me like a bolt of lightning. My eyes darted towards the door, capturing the sight of Mavka, Hermione, and Jade emerging from the shadows, their figures moving from the periphery to the forefront. My gaze collided with Mavka's for an ephemeral moment, a fleeting connection broken by her swift aversion. Hermione darted towards me, her voice soft and hesitant, laden with apologies. She explained that she wished to intervene but Shinobu's insistence on assessing my potential, verifying whether I was the prophesied child destined to quell the brewing war, had overridden her intentions.
As Hermione's words swirled around my mind, I grappled to grasp the concept of being the "child of prophecy." Just as I was about to vocalize my bewilderment, Hermione cast a spell on me. A cascade of brilliant lights enveloped me, shattering the shackles of fear that had immobilized me moments before. My body, once held captive by terror, was now a canvas of freedom. With newfound mobility, I rose to my feet, turning to Hermione with gratitude reverberating in my gaze. "Thank you," I murmured, my voice laden with the weight of emotion. Her cheeks flushed, a delicate hue of red painting her features. Her response was gentle, a whispered echo. "You're welcome."
Her words, though kind, were barely audible, lost amidst my thoughts. I asked her to repeat herself, and as she complied, she stammered her way towards Jade. Her face, now dyed in crimson, bore the traces of embarrassment. She embraced Jade, her actions evoking curiosity and a hint of amusement. What had Hermione struggled to say?
I exhaled audibly, grappling to decipher Hermione's actions. Frustration gnawed at my patience as I turned my gaze to Mavka. My steps propelled me towards her, an expression of ire etched onto my features. As I moved in her direction, I couldn't help but recollect the name "Shinobu" from Hermione's earlier reference. The same girl who had unleashed that torrent of intense bloodlust upon me. I made an effort to avoid meeting her gaze, my focus instead shifting towards Mavka as I passed by her. Upon reaching her, I mustered an angry tone, mingled with the glisten of unshed tears. "Why didn't you save me when I cried out for help?"
Mavka, her eyes avoiding mine, offered a feeble response. "Shinobu insisted on testing your latent potential. I tried to intervene, but she was adamant about assessing you. I gave her specific instructions to limit the release of bloodlust, preventing you from passing out."
Her words only fueled my frustration, an ember that burned within. I turned my head, directing my accusatory glare towards Jade. "Did you know about this too?"
An insidious smirk curled Jade's lips, her eyes glinting with mischief. Her silence spoke volumes, confirming my suspicion. The realization that they were all in on it intensified my ire. "I won't talk to you guys anymore," I declared vehemently, my words punctuated with a finality that hung in the air.
Mavka, undeterred by my resolve, closed the distance between us. Her hand found its way to the crown of my head, a gesture of solace and a plea for forgiveness. "Please, find it in your heart to forgive me. I couldn't challenge Shinobu's giving you a test your potential."