As Inoue's eleventh birthday approached, the atmosphere in the orphanage seemed to crackle with a strange energy. Children whispered excitedly in the corridors, their voices echoing off the worn stone walls adorned with faded tapestries depicting scenes of a bygone era. The air was tinged with anticipation, a sense of something momentous on the horizon.
In the dimly lit room where Inoue spent much of her time training with Sister Marry, the atmosphere was no less charged. The scent of incense hung heavy in the air, mingling with the gentle sound of water flowing from a nearby fountain—the focal point of the room, its surface shimmering with the faintest hint of magic.
As Inoue stood before Sister Marry, the nun's expression was one of solemn determination. In her hands, she held a cloak of deepest black, its fabric soft to the touch yet imbued with an undeniable sense of strength. Alongside it lay a set of leather armor, its surface worn but well-cared for, a testament to the craftsmanship of its maker.
"Inoue, my child," Sister Marry began, her voice gentle yet firm, "as you embark on this journey, it is imperative that you keep your identity hidden from those who would seek to do you harm."
Inoue nodded, her gaze fixed on the cloak and armor before her. She reached out, running her fingers over the smooth leather and rich fabric, a sense of anticipation building within her.
"But why must I hide who I am, Sister Mary?" she questioned, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Sister Mary's expression softened as she placed a comforting hand on Inoue's shoulder. "There are forces at work in this world that would stop at nothing to see you fail," she explained cryptically. "For now, it is best that you conceal your true self until the time is right."
With a sense of resolve, Inoue donned the cloak and armor, the weight of their significance settling over her like a shroud. The cloak enveloped her in its dark embrace, its hood casting shadows over her features, while the leather armor provided a sense of protection and strength.
As she surveyed herself in the mirror, a feeling of unease washed over her. The cloak and armor felt foreign and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort of her usual attire. Yet, beneath the surface, she sensed a newfound sense of purpose stirring within her—a determination to face whatever challenges lay ahead, guided by the wisdom of Sister Mary and fueled by the power of her newfound magic.
And so, as the day of her eleventh birthday dawned, Inoue stood alone by the window, her red eyes gazing out into the night. With each passing moment, her resolve grew stronger.
As the clock approached midnight, Sister Marry rose from her seat with a gentle smile, gesturing for Inoue to follow her. Together, they made their way to a secluded garden in front of the orphanage, where a small table and chair awaited them amidst the fragrant blooms and softly swaying trees.
Inoue gazed around in awe at the tranquil beauty surrounding her. Moonlight danced on the petals of the flowers, casting a soft, silver glow over the garden. The air was alive with the soothing symphony of rustling leaves and chirping crickets, a melody that seemed to beckon her into the embrace of the night.
Inoue settled onto the grass, her red eyes curious as she watched Sister Mary pour herself a cup of tea. The moon cast a soft glow over the garden, lending an otherworldly ambiance to the scene.
"Come, child," Sister Mary said, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness of the night. "Sit with me. It is time."
Inoue obeyed, taking a seat opposite Sister Mary at the table. The scent of jasmine and lavender filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly cut grass.
Sister Mary poured herself a cup of tea, her movements deliberate and serene. She took a sip, her gaze fixed on Inoue with unwavering intensity. "Midnight approaches," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you ready, Inoue?"
Inoue nodded, her heart pounding with anticipation. She could feel the energy of the garden thrumming around her, a tangible presence that seemed to pulse with life.
As the clock struck twelve, a hush fell over the garden, and golden lights began to shimmer and dance in the air around Inoue. The soft glow illuminated her features, casting her in a warm, ethereal light.
Inoue closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the magic of the moment. She felt a sense of calm wash over her, a tranquility that seemed to seep into her very soul. For the first time in her life, she felt truly at peace.
With a surge of radiant energy, the transformation began.
Golden dust swirled and twirled around Inoue, enveloping her in a shimmering cocoon of light. She felt a tingling sensation spread through her body, like a thousand tiny needles pricking her skin.
Inoue's heart pounded in her chest as she felt herself being lifted up, as if carried by invisible wings. She could hear the sound of her own heartbeat, steady and strong, echoing in the stillness of the night.
And then, with a burst of blinding light, it happened.
A soft glow illuminated her features, casting her in a warm, ethereal light. The black dye that had obscured her hair dissolved away, revealing strands of golden blond hair that gleamed in the moonlight.
Sister Mary watched as Inoue's soul awakened before her eyes, a testament to the girl's inner strength and courage. In that moment, she knew that Inoue was destined for greatness—that she possessed a light that would shine brightly in even the darkest of times.
And as the golden lights finally faded away, leaving Inoue bathed in their gentle glow, Sister Mary smiled, her heart full of hope and pride. For in that moment, she knew that Inoue's journey had only just begun.