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Third Person POV
The Vermillion family carriage passed through a set of towering, iron gates, and the world seemed to change. The noisy city streets gave way to a serene, private domain where beautiful gardens stretched for what looked like miles. As they rounded a final, gentle curve in the gravel path, the Kira estate came into full view, and Ignara's jaw dropped.
It was not a house; it was a self-contained city of elegance. A sprawling palace of brilliant white stone rose toward the sky, crowned by a massive central dome. Spires and towers of varying heights flanked the main building, connected by graceful archways and open-air colonnades. Fountains danced in wide, clean courtyards, their splashing water the only sound in the tranquil air. The sheer scale of the place was breathtaking. Ignara, who had grown up in the Vermillion estate, a place she had always considered the pinnacle of noble power, felt as if she were looking at a castle from a storybook. Her own home felt like a gatehouse in comparison.
She whipped her head around to face her parents, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and suspicion. "Are we not part of the Royal family?" she asked, her voice a frantic whisper.
Her mother and father both nodded slowly, accustomed to her blunt questions.
"Then why don't we have a huge estate like this?" she asked, gesturing wildly at the impossible view. "Are they doing shady stuff behind the scenes? It must be the Captain's husband! I bet he's running some kind of illegal smuggling ring, or maybe he's blackmailing other nobles, or--"
"Ignara."
The single word from her father, spoken with icy precision, cut through her conspiracy theories. His expression had hardened into a mask of severe disapproval. Ignara's mouth snapped shut instantly. She knew that look. She knew she had just stepped right up to a line that she was not allowed to cross.
Seeing the genuine flash of fear in her eyes, Lord Ignatius's expression softened, but only slightly. He sighed. "You do not understand, daughter," he said, his voice low and serious. "Lord Roderic Kira is not a man you speak of lightly. He is the King's own brother. His influence runs through every vein of this kingdom. The court, the merchants, even the Magic Knights. If he truly wished it, he could create a political storm that could strip both our houses of our royal status within a year."
He leaned forward, his fiery eyes locking onto hers, demanding her full attention. "The Kira family's wealth comes from generations of smart business and their direct ties to the throne. Roderic is their sharpest mind. I am a Magic Knight Captain, a warrior. He is a predator of a different kind. I would rather face Lady Seraphiel on a battlefield than face him in a courtroom. Do you understand?"
Ignara swallowed hard. The weight of her careless words settled on her like a physical burden. She finally understood. This was a different kind of power, a quiet, intricate strength that couldn't be met with a blast of fire magic. To the absolute shock of her entire family, she bowed her head slightly.
"I apologize, Father. I spoke foolishly."
The carriage went completely silent. Her mother, father, and sister all stared at her as if she'd just grown a second head. Lysandra was the first to break the silence, a teasing smirk playing on her lips.
"Is that... are you the real Ignara?" she quipped. "Did they replace you with a polite double while I wasn't looking?"
"SHUT UP!" Ignara roared, her face immediately turning as red as her hair. "I CAN BE POLITE!"
The tension shattered. They all knew their Ignara was back.
Soon, they were escorted from the carriage into a ballroom so vast it could have hosted a small war. Crystal chandeliers the size of wagons hung from a ceiling painted with frescoes of angels and ancient heroes. Waitstaff moved silently through a crowd of finely dressed nobles, their silver trays laden with refreshments.
As the Vermillions began to exchange formal pleasantries, a familiar voice called out. "Ignara!"
Ignara turned to see Acier Silva waving at her, a genuine, happy smile on her face. A matching smile broke out on Ignara's own face, her earlier foul mood completely forgotten.
"Acier! You're here!" she exclaimed, rushing over to her friend. She turned back to her mother. "Why didn't you tell me Acier was coming? If I'd known, I would have come without any fuss!"
Ignatius, Evelina, and Lysandra all shared a collective, weary sigh, a silent admission that they could have avoided the entire hour-long war of wills in the carriage with that one simple piece of information.
The two girls immediately huddled together, their excitement palpable. "I'm so excited! Can you believe we're finally going to meet her in person?" Acier whispered, practically vibrating with energy.
"I know!" Ignara agreed. "I hope she tells us about the time she took down that whole battalion from the Diamond Kingdom!"
As they chattered, Acier's eyes widened as she remembered something. "Wait, Ignara, have you found a magic tutor yet? Now that we're five, we can start training."
"Nope," Ignara said, popping the 'p'. "Father says they're looking for someone 'suitable to handle my shenanigans,' whatever that means."
Acier gave her a look that said, 'I know exactly what that means.' She quickly put it aside, her expression turning conspiratorial. "I have a plan," she whispered. "What if... what if we become friends with her son today? If Lady Seraphiel likes us, maybe... maybe she'll agree to take us on as her students!"
Ignara's mind exploded. The idea was brilliant. Her? A student of the strongest female knight in the kingdom? "Yes!" she agreed instantly. "Let's do it!"
Just then, a royal announcer's voice boomed through the hall, silencing the ambient chatter. "Presenting the hosts of this auspicious occasion! Lord Roderic Kira, Lady Seraphiel Kira, and the young master, Michael Kira!"
The crowd parted respectfully, and the Silvas and Vermillions were ushered to a front-row position befitting their royal status.
The Kira family walked out onto the raised dais. A collective gasp went through the room. The nobles watched in awe at Lady Seraphiel's radiant beauty and Lord Roderic's commanding, yet understated, presence. But most eyes were fixed on the small boy standing between them. This was the first time most of the kingdom's nobility had ever seen the Kira heir. He was the prince from the stories, with golden hair and golden eyes, a regal posture, and an elegant, serious expression that seemed far older than his five years.
"Wow," Acier breathed, her eyes sparkling with childlike admiration. "He looks so cool." She turned to share her excitement with Ignara but was met with a bizarre sight.
Ignara was pale, and tiny beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. Her expression was a strange, unsettling mix of raw fear and manic excitement.
"Ignara? Are you okay?" Acier asked, her voice laced with concern.
Ignara nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving Michael. "You know how I'm really sensitive to mana, right?"
Acier nodded. Ignara's ability to feel the flow and strength of magic was well-known, even among the adults of their houses.
"It normally helps me guess how strong someone is," Ignara continued, her voice barely a whisper. She pointed a trembling finger at Michael. "That... that thing... is not a person. It's an endless pit of mana. It's terrifying." A wild, predatory grin suddenly split her face. "I want to fight him."
Acier's jaw dropped. She knew Ignara was strong. She knew she was strong. But for Ignara, who feared nothing, to call someone terrifying... the excitement to meet the Kiras was now mixed with a heavy dose of shock and apprehension.
The Kira family descended from the dais, greeting their most esteemed guests first. Seraphiel greeted Lord Ignatius with a respectful nod. "Captain," she said, a greeting between two equals. She then squealed with delight, pulling Virelia and Evelina into a warm, genuine hug. "It's been too long, my friends!"
She turned to their daughters, her smile impossibly bright. "And look at you two! Acier! Ignara! You've grown so much since I last saw you." She leaned in and whispered, "I was there the day both of you were born, you know. I helped deliver you."
The girls stared at her, completely star-struck. The legendary warrior had been there at the very start of their lives. Then the questions erupted.
"Is it true you're the strongest knight?"
"Why aren't you the Wizard King?"
"Can you tell us about the Battle of the Crimson Plains?!"
Their parents quickly and apologetically calmed them down. After the family talk, the adults all turned their attention to Michael, offering their birthday wishes. Michael greeted them politely, bowing his head slightly as he had been taught, his composure flawless.
With the formalities over, the three children were gently nudged to a quieter corner of the ballroom to talk amongst themselves.
Acier, ever the diplomat, introduced herself first. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Michael. I am Acier Silva."
Before Michael could respond, Ignara stepped forward, her fiery eyes sizing him up, ignoring all decorum. "I'm Ignara Vermillion," she said, her voice sharp with intensity. "How strong are you?"
Michael was taken aback for a second, then a small, genuine smile touched his lips. It was a refreshing change from the stiff, formal nonsense he was used to. "My strength is a problem I'm trying to solve," he answered honestly. "I have too much mana, and not enough control."
The girls' eyes widened. That resonated with them. They shared their own stories, Acier talking about her struggle to form her precise silver magic into powerful attacks, and Ignara complaining about how her flame magic always wanted to explode out of her. They talked happily, easily, finding an unexpected common ground in their shared burden of immense, untamed power.
Away from them, their parents watched with pleased smiles. Seraphiel, completely overwhelmed with emotion, was crying tears of joy onto Roderic's expensive suit jacket. "He made friends," she sobbed dramatically into his shoulder. "My little sunshine finally made friends!"
All the adults sighed, already used to her mood swings.
The party eventually wound down. As the guests began to leave, Seraphiel invited the girls to visit the estate again in a week for a less formal get-together, and perhaps some light training. They both agreed with an enthusiastic "Yes!"
As Michael watched them go, he felt something new and unfamiliar. For the first time in his life, he was actually looking forward to what came next.
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