He stood barely taller than a sapling, his form was both delicate and ethereal. His hair, the color of freshly fallen snow, cascaded down his shoulders in a curtain of soft waves. Each strand seemed to shimmer with an inner light, catching stray sunbeams and holding them captive. It was as if moonlight itself were woven into his hair, a halo of pale luminescence that framed his face.
His eyes, the color of embers glowing in the dim room, held a depth that seemed to defy his youthful appearance. The irises were flecked with gold, like molten metal trapped within the ruby red. Long, dark lashes like spiderwebs cast a delicate shadow on his cheeks. His skin was the color of porcelain, so pale it seemed almost translucent. A faint blush of the palest rose hues his cheekbones, a hint of life beneath the surface. His features were delicate and sharp, a pointed chin offset by full, soft lips the color of a red blush on a rose petal. A dusting of fine, white freckles danced across the bridge of his small nose.
He brushed away a strand of hair on his forehead, his gestures almost like works of art in themselves. His fingers were small and slender, tipped with perfectly rounded nails that gleamed like polished pearls. The delicate bones hinted at a life spent more with mundane activities rather than manual labor, yet the hands held a surprising strength when he clasped them together.
Lyra shot up from her chair, eyes wide as her gaze bore into Mikoto. His right brow quirked up at her reaction.
"What's with the surprise?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "Back at Emberreach, weren't you theorizing that I might have been a spawn of Octavia?" She remained quiet as her eyes drank in his appearance from head to toe. She placed her right hand on her desk before pushing it aside as if the weight of it did not exist. The distance between them was not a lot to begin with, so she reached him instantly. Then she placed a hand on his chest as if to grope something that was not there. An apparent vein bulged on his forehead as he slapped her hand away. "You damn pervert! What are you feeling me up for!?" Despite his outburst, she just looked extremely perplexed.
"You... you are male?" She questioned with knitted brows. Mikoto furrowed his own.
"Obviously," he answered with a dry gaze, a gaze that quickly turned to a glare as she cupped both his cheeks with her surprisingly soft hands, squishing his cheeks together. "What are you doing?" He managed to get out as she stared at him intently.
"No illusion spell, this is real," she mumbled out, the shock not leaving her face as he got out of her grasp. "A second spawn of Octavia, one who's male." Contemplation filled her mind as she stared at him. He was a spitting image of the Goddess. Were it not for his flat chest area and short height, he would be mistaken for the other spawn of Octavia. Thoughts ran through her head rampant as she sought a conclusion, and by gathering each piece of information she had of this boy, she came to a conclusion. "You were not always a spawn of Octavia," she uttered after a while.
"You have the right of it, but I won't bore you with the details," he said as he waved her off with his small hand. "Anyway, is your curiosity satiated yet?" She remained silent still. Mikoto knew there would be shock if he was discovered, but it seems he had underestimated said shock. Lyra's gaze was piercing him, dissecting his very being as if he should not have existed. It was like she was trying but failing to wrap her head around his very existence. Truly she could not be blamed; this was the boy who claimed he came from another world.
And now there was this, two spawns of Octavia in the same era. Such a thing had never been recorded in the world's history. It was something not just unlikely but extremely impossible, yet here was the proof. A second spawn of Octavia, and as if that was not enough, the second spawn is male. The absurdity only continued to grow. Octavia favored women as her kin, yet here he was. As one who found comfort in knowledge and whose own knowledge was vast, Lyra could not help but find herself confused.
"I still have many, many questions," Lyra admitted with a frown. She needed the answers.
"Well, I'll answer them when you give something in return for this," Mikoto stated. "What do you know about Arcane Ascendance?"
"I know a lot," she answered quickly. "But if you want a more specific answer, I have records on each Inheritor. When they ascended, how they ascended, their personality data. Of course, I have records on just Arcane Ascendance as a whole, theories on how to achieve it, theoretically of course. And what the requirements could theoretically be."
"Then give me all of it."
"You are asking for a lot; some of this information would help you fight and best the Inheritors in battle," she mused. "I may even be seen as a traitor for giving you this information."
"Pssh, I can beat all the Inheritors regardless if I had the information," Mikoto proudly stated with a smug smile that Lyra found cute.
"You're quite boastful," she murmured as she took a seat on her desk that now sat unevenly on the floor. "I suppose such emotions are warranted when you match someone of the crown prince's strength. But the Inheritors of Verdantis are all rather unique individuals; each one has their own way of battling. You may find it difficult to best them."
"Maybe, but I just need to prepare my own spells for the occasion," Mikoto waved her words off. "Now about those records..."
"Fine," Lyra relented surprisingly easily. "Though it may take a while to gather them all, a day at most."
"I see, thanks then. Oh, and just remember..." Mikoto smiled at her brightly. "...don't go telling anyone about this or I'll kill you~" He gave a two-finger salute, and then his form vanished with a pop of displacement in the air. Lyra stared at where he stood moments ago, mulling over her thoughts.
"Hmm, he's much too cute to dissect."
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"And that concludes that," Mikoto concluded as he reappeared on the bed within his cabin. ("This gives me some semblance of hope. I need to dissect Arcane Ascendance if I can't just replicate it. That is all I can do for now.") He let his body fall onto his bed as he blankly stared at what was above him.
"How tedious," he murmured to himself. Everything here was so, so tedious. How long would it really take to learn Arcane Ascendance? If he had a detailed manual on the subject, then it should not take so long. However, there was no guarantee that he would actually be able to do it, and therein lies the problem. He was chasing after a goal that was not likely to give him results. It was frustrating chasing a goal like this, but for now, this was the only avenue he had available.
Even with theories and hypotheses on world travel magic on his person, there was not much he could do to put those things into practice. His magic was simply not on that level currently, and so he was left with Arcane Ascendance. A means to boost him to the next level, it was not assured that it would help, but it was all he could do now. Chasing a loose goal was better than being idle.
("I think I'll still participate in the festival. The way Lucinda used Arcane Ascendance seemed specific; she was tapping into something, her face was one of focus. As if she was trying to recall a certain memory from the past. Maybe she was trying to feel a certain emotion to make transforming smoother? That could be the case, I guess, but that does not help me in the least.") Annoyance showed on his face at his lack of knowledge. ("Maybe I can learn something by watching the other Inheritors use Arcane Ascendance. Suppose I should take countermeasures.")
He recalled a memory of Professor Eugene talking about all the Inheritors. He did not remember their names, but he did remember the Gods.
("There were two Inheritors of the God of space and time; Rheya mentioned his name too. But space and time, how much control would they have on these things? Could they stop time? Reverse it maybe? And what of space? What exactly does that entail in a larger sense? Teleportation should come easily innately, maybe even manipulating gravity. Or on a broader scale, creating a black hole. I doubt they can create one with an event horizon. At most, they might be able to create a point of attraction. At any rate, I'll assume those two have every ability that has to do with time and space. I'll make counter magic appropriately.")
("Then there was an Inheritor of the sun Goddess. Maybe they possess an ability that could grant them the power to summon something on the scale of the sun itself? Easily countered, but they probably possess large destruction capacity. I'll keep my guard up at any rate.")
("Then a spawn of the God of darkness, I believe. I can't begin to think of what kind of large-scale abilities he might have. I should avoid him then and focus on the others who are more straightforward.")
("Speaking of straightforward, there's the last one, the only one I actually met. Dante apparently the strongest of all the Inheritors. Normally I'd assume it was all talk, but being the spawn of a Goddess that also governs over war helps with the instincts. Unfortunately, it doesn't make me a battle expert, but at the very least, I can gauge how strong a person is. If I had to gauge Dante, I'd put him on par with Selwyn. Physically speaking, he must be a monster; he's an obscure guy compared to the others, but from what I heard, he's a spawn of the God of strength. I heard all knights dedicate themselves to the God of strength and participate in rituals to exchange their ability to use magic for greater physical abilities. It wouldn't be outrageous to assume his physical abilities surpass my own. But raw strength is not everything, yet how is it that someone who's merely a spawn of the God of strength is considered the strongest of the Inheritors? I can't know for certain, but I'll register him as the strongest threat in the festival along with Selwyn.")
Before his mulling could continue, he heard a knock on his door. He perked up as he rose from his bed to place his mask back on.
("Guess my mulling can wait.") He thought as he stood up from his bed and approached the door. ("For now, all I can do is wait.")