Mist coiled across the azure lake, catching fragments of sunlight and scattering them into ribbons of color. The air was fragrant with lotus and rain, and in the heart of it stood a girl whose very presence bent the light around her.
Leina.
Her silver hair flowed down her back like molten moonlight, strands catching every hue of dawn. Her eyes — a deep crystalline blue — shimmered like calm water touched by sunlight. The faint glow of essence circled her skin, weaving through her every breath, painting her in a halo of shifting brilliance.
Each movement she made was poetry — measured, silent, fluid. Water rippled to her rhythm; light followed her like a loyal companion.
Before her stood the Hall of Reflected Realms, a temple of glass and still water, where illusion and reality became one.
She inhaled deeply, letting her dual elements flow. Water essence surged from beneath the lake, rising as threads of liquid silk, while light curved and intertwined with it, refracting into endless shapes.
Within moments, the air bloomed with a thousand reflections — forests, skies, and silver towers made of light and mist. She was crafting a world.
Her master, Mistress Seraphyne, watched from a platform of crystal. "You've reached the Sixth Stage," she said softly. "Your control has matured — but your heart still trembles. Show me that you can sustain the Mirage."
Leina closed her eyes. The world she created shimmered, solidifying. Birds of light took flight, rivers of silver flowed, and distant stars appeared within the mist — her very essence woven into the scene.
But then, in the center of it all, a figure appeared.
A boy standing beneath a storm-torn sky, lightning dancing across his hands, eyes fierce yet kind.
Daniel.
The illusion wavered. The stars fractured.
Leina gasped, losing her focus. The world shattered into shards of glass and falling mist, and the lake below rippled violently.
Mistress Seraphyne's voice echoed. "Attachment disturbs balance. You seek clarity, yet your heart yearns for what it cannot reach."
Leina bowed her head, her voice quiet. "I know, Master. But sometimes… it feels like he's still out there. Like his essence calls to mine."
Seraphyne's gaze softened. "Perhaps it does. But light cannot chase storms, child. It must learn to stand on its own."
Later that night, Leina stood at the edge of the lake, the moon reflecting in her eyes. The water mirrored her beauty — serene yet lonely. She lifted her hand; a small orb of light floated above her palm, warm and pure.
"Daniel…" she whispered. "Wherever you are, don't get lost in the storm."
The light in her hand flickered, pulsing faintly — almost like an answer. A thread of lightning, distant but alive, shimmered across the night sky far away.
She smiled faintly. "So you are alive."
Her reflection wavered as if agreeing, and the lake's surface rippled — forming, for a fleeting moment, the outline of a thunder-shaped sigil before fading back into silence.