At the far north of the Lesich Empire lay a city called Aurlux, surrounded by cold weather and tall white forests. But despite the harsh climate and relatively young age of the city, it was a blooming paradise in the cold. Inside the barriers were lush green gardens and research facilities—it was a home for scientists.

 While it wasn’t a massive metropolis like Ilifel and small in size, it’s solidified as one of the most technologically advanced cities in the kingdom—let alone the empire—and it was the home of the Ilis family.

 For generations, the Ilis family have been known to produce versed researchers, powerful mages and, on occasion—blade masters. Currently, the heads of the main branch were Amethely and Chely’s parents—youthful scientists in their early forties in the field of magi-tech.

 While the two aren’t gifted in the art of spell casting or swordplay, they were both the ones who constructed many of the marvels around their home city—as developers of magi-tech, they weren’t at home much and moved city to city for work. 

 At a young age, they found out that Chely was a prodigy mage and highly proficient with the blade. As many parents would, they gave her the best possible education in Ilifel under her grandparents—only for one of the sages to take an interest in her. Not wanting to disappoint her parents and younger sister, Chely worked extremely hard to polish her mind and skills so that she could become someone great like her parents and grandparents.

 Amethely, on the other hand, was not blessed like her elder sister. She wasn’t as brilliant; she had no talent for magic, and neither was she bright and outgoing like her sister. But despite not living up to the expectations of her family name, she was loved nevertheless.

 Those who met her describe her as sweet and kind but also shy. Her parents and sister loved doting on her whenever they could. Chely especially loved doting on Amethely whenever she returned home. She’d say, “Ameeee!” while clinging to her and rubbing her cheeks against her.

 “Aww~! This is healing my heart! Aaah, The Sage is just…too mean!”

 “Ehehe~ Big Sister Chely! It tickles! It tickles!”

 And when Chely wasn’t hugging her like there was no tomorrow, Amethely would show her the flowers in the garden she helped care for.

 “They’re as pretty as always!”

 Chely always complimented her and gently stroked her silky silver-white hair, embracing her while carrying her in her arms. Amethely sweetly leaned back with a bright smile.

*Sniff*

 “My fatigue always gets healed,” she would occasionally mumbled in a low voice while teary-eyed.

 At the time, Amethely couldn’t understand why Chely was acting the way she did—she was simply too young to understand the pressure put on her sister three years apart. But in spite of all that…

 “Big Sister Chely, don’t cry! Ame will always protect you!”

 While Chely knew Amethely didn’t know the weight of her words, her heart ached, and tears began streaming down her cheeks.

 “Ame, Bis Sister will always protect you, too!” she said happily while spinning around with her precious little sister in her arms.

 “Ehehe~ Big Sister, we are spinning so fast!”

 The servants who watched the warm sight couldn’t help but smile—it was impossible to, especially when they knew how lonely Amethely was.

 But…

 Those times wouldn’t last forever. As she got older, her parents rarely returned home, and Chely’s return was even more infrequent than her parents’—she was on the path of becoming a hero, and their parents were occupied in other cities for research.

 Yet, Amethely never complained. The caretakers took good care of her. Despite having people around her, she was lonely. On top of that, the Ilis family rarely accepted visitors—the heads were barely home, after all.

 She was busy every day with different classes—etiquette, dance, and flower arrangements. While she enjoyed those activities, she found herself lacking—her parents were great researchers. Her grandmother was a saint. Her grandparents on her father’s side were headmasters of the educational institution of Ilifel and...

 Her sister was a combat prodigy. 

 Compared to them. She wasn’t special. All the people in her family were great people—only she was talentless—slowly, as she grew older, the prestige of her family started to weigh on her. With a strong front, she pushed through, but she could never get the nagging feeling out off her chest—despite her young tender age—she felt utterly lost.

 From discomfort to confusion. From confusion. To guilt.

 She wanted to change. She wanted to live up to their standards. It wasn’t just for them, but mostly for herself—she wanted to stand beside them proudly.

 Thereafter, at the tender age of nine, she’d sneak into her parent’s study to read the contents she wasn’t taught—it was difficult for her to understand and grasp the concepts—she wasn’t taught anything nearly as complicated—even though she was the child of two geniuses.

 In secret, she studied—she didn’t want anyone to know. She wanted to surprise them, hide her hard work and stand with them on equal terms. But what Amethely didn’t realise was—that she was brilliant in her own way, too.

 Not giving up, she discovered something by accident when she learned about the ID everyone was born with—and her ID—something that wasn’t supposed to appear before she turned ten—was there.

 | Amethely Ilis |

 Attribute: Light, Celestistasis.

 Just as the documents and literature in her parent’s study. Amethely didn’t understand completely. But that only meant she had to look for the answer—but with no clues, she tried her best regardless of the things she did understand.

 Not too long after her discovery of her ID, she was able to use some light magic—it was her only clue, and she could use it from her imagination alone—but it strained her young mind, making her dizzy, exhausted and burned out.

 Of course, her little secret soon came to light as one of the servants stumbled upon her when she’d been practising light magic with the little mana she had—then, passing out on her bed. Her worried parents caught wind of it and asked why she didn’t tell them.

 Amethely began to tear up and confessed that she wanted to surprise them all—she wanted to be like them and didn’t want to burden them with her lack of talent. While speechless, they’d both giggle in delight, asking if she wanted a tutor to teach her.

 Her answer was clear, and her eyes brimmed and sparkled as she excitedly nodded. Seeing her so excited, a chuckle couldn’t help but escape their lips. They’d wonder if they spoiled her too much and felt like hopeless parents.

 But deep inside, they knew she would likely not succeed due to her lack of mana. But not only was she lacking in mana compared to other children her age—her mana was thin and weak, meaning she’d find difficulties activating most simple spells—and other than the strange lettering of her name and the unknown Celestistasis attribute—her attribute for light didn’t help her case. While it was a rare elemental attribute, it was the one that required a large amount of mana—just a little behind the activation threshold of the void attribute.

 However… none of that mattered to them. As long as Amethely was happy—that was all that they asked for. Both knew she’d been lonely, even with the loving caretakers and servants—at the end of the day, they go back to their own families. Only she was alone. They themselves were rarely home, and her elder sister Chely was taken in by a Sage, and they barely saw her either—even less than Amethely.

 Still, they couldn’t stop what they were doing. They felt guilt toward their daughters—for leaving them alone. They felt like horrible parents. But. They had a duty—it was for the betterment of this cruel world. It wasn’t for wealth. It wasn’t for power—they were doing all that they could to improve the lives of those in the empire—after all. This was a world where the cruel, treacherous mistress rewarded those who climbed the ladder of mana.

 …

  …..

 …

 As the years and seasons passed, Amethely found herself staring into the distance, watching the airship near the horizon. The warm coastal winds of Ilifel caressed her cheeks gently as her hair danced freely in the air. But amidst this tranquillity, she found her anxious hands resting on her chest, clenched and pressed against them—the worry was drowning her.

 Whenever she thought of Alum, she saw herself in him—it was strange. They weren’t alike at all. She loves him. She loves him deeply—with words, with action—but her deep affection couldn’t stop him from leaving.

 Unlike her. Alum was a prodigy in all aspects—she found it difficult to understand. She wasn’t one—there was no way for her to.

 The first time he cast magic was frightening—his overwhelming talent scared her. He’d destroyed most of the training grounds; he learned swordsmanship to such a high degree just in a week of sparring with her—she didn’t expect to actually react seriously to his every move in the spars so soon—it scared her. It was like he’d run past her—and leave her behind.

 (Compared to him… I’m…)

 “Lady Amethely, you need to adjust your mana some more to reduce the cast time.”

 “I-I’m sorry…”

 It was a memory from childhood. She remembered how much she’d practised—she’d just learned how to cast a basic offensive spell. [Light Arrow] and [Light Bullet]. They were the most basic form of light magic outside of creating light itself. It took her five seconds to cast—it was too much time spent channelling. But that wasn’t all…

 “Hmm, it is still on the very weak side…”

 “I’m sorry, Teacher Rein.”

 “You shouldn’t be, Lady Amethely. Some might find it a pity that Lady Amethely’s attribute is light. However… In my opinion, what attribute could suit My Lady more? My Lady, you are such a bright, hard worker. Your kindness, your bright smile—it warms anyone just to see you work so hard, me included. That is why. I believe in you, My Lady.”

 “I-I see… I-I will do my utmost—and more!”

 Recalling those memories made her somewhat melancholy, and a soft sigh of longing escaped her lips. “Al… be safe—I’m already lonely without you…” With those words lingering, the airship disappeared under the horizon. As she turned around, a familiar face entered her mind. “Sir Rigeld?”

 “You sure love him a lot,” he suddenly said.

 The abruptness surprised her, but the words brought a smile to her face, and a faint blush surfaced as she sheepishly averted her eyes. “That… I do…” she softly replied.

 Rigeld, who’d been leaning on one of the pillars, walked up to the railing. He gazed into the distance—the view over Ilifel, the ocean and the vast plains and mountains—all of it basked in the golden hue of dusk.

 “Still, to think I’d find you at the top of the Grand Diloth Tower…” he chuckled. 

 “W-Well…”

 But soon, Amethely realised that—despite his playful words, he bore a sober complexion.

 “It’s about Al.”

 “Huh…?”