_{This RP Takes place in the world of Isekai Hell. If you want to Rp with us, just message me! Check out our interest check! roleplayerguild.com/topics/196759-ise…)}

Location: Solstice Pavilion, Grand Duchy of Roran
Time of day: Mid Morning
Weather: Pleasant. Slightly cloudy but warm.

The Solstice Pavilion shimmered like a jewel at the heart of the capital — a cathedral of glass and alloy, where steel met starlight and crystal conduits wove like veins through its walls. Soft-blue energy lines pulsed beneath the marble floors, illuminating intricate sigils carved between each polished tile. The hum of arcane generators blended with the clinking of silver and the low murmur of the crowd.

Beneath a vaulted ceiling of mirrored panels, hundreds had gathered — nobles, artificers, and chefs from every corner of the Duchy. Their attire sparkled with embroidered light-thread and magi-tech ornamentation; every outfit seemed designed to prove its wearer’s superiority. The air was thick with perfume, ambition, and the faint ozone scent of active mana arrays.

Along the central promenade, rows of preparation stations gleamed — part kitchen, part laboratory. Alchemical burners glowed beside induction plates; levitating trays held ingredients midair as contestants fine-tuned their recipes. Dishes sizzled, simmered, and sometimes sang with ambient resonance. Above it all, a massive holographic crest revolved slowly: the four-pointed emblem of Lord Varion Thales, encircling a faint seven-star motif that shimmered just enough to draw the eye.

The spectators — nobles in layered finery — whispered praises and judgments with the same delicate tone. Every laugh was polite, every compliment a veiled comparison. Here, pride wasn’t a sin. It was currency.

The competition was unlike any the Duchy had ever hosted — a contest not of one discipline, but of all. The “Grand Exhibition of Taste and Talent,” as the flyers proclaimed, invited any citizen, artisan, or noble bold enough to prove their brilliance. There were no limits, no specific craft demanded. Cook, create, compose, enchant — the more talents one could display, the greater their chance to impress the judges.

Clusters of nobles leaned against the marble balustrades encircling the main floor, chatting over crystal flutes of amber wine. Performers and inventors adjusted their displays while judges’ assistants reviewed lists and recalibrated the scoring crystals at the stage’s edge. The faint hum of aether-powered lighting panels flickered over the gathered competitors, casting them in a wash of cool, shifting color.

The competition hadn’t yet begun. Attendants were still arranging registration stands along the east wall, inviting latecomers to sign their names and declare their chosen talents. Each name briefly glowed upon a hovering display before vanishing into the Pavilion’s central registry: Cooking, Alchemy, Music, Dance, Swordsmanship, Art, Invention…

A sense of restless energy filled the air — laughter, nervous excitement, the faint crackle of mana whenever someone’s experiment misbehaved. The Pavilion itself seemed to hum in anticipation, as if the building’s very walls were waiting for the curtain to rise.

Near the front stage, five ornate chairs stood behind a long crystalline desk. Four were already occupied by figures of wealth and reputation — a blend of inventors, artists, and noble sponsors — each reviewing their notes or speaking in low tones with aides. The fifth chair, framed in pale gold filigree, sat empty.

And that emptiness was all anyone could talk about.

Whispers passed from group to group, too soft to be caught but clear in intent. The fifth judge hadn’t arrived. There’d been a last-minute withdrawal. They were searching for a replacement, someone of suitable prestige.

Some claimed the missing judge was detained by politics. Others swore it was deliberate, a test of the Pavilion’s adaptability — a subtle challenge to prove that the event itself was as flexible as the talents it celebrated.

Whatever the reason, the uncertainty gave the evening an edge.

Aslan’s most gifted and most vain had gathered in one place, all vying for recognition before the first word of the contest was even spoken. The air glittered with laughter and pride, but beneath it ran a hum of impatience — the sound of egos waiting to be unleashed.

Aedrianna stood just inside the Pavilion’s grand entryway, beside the quiet, armored presence of Lord Edwin Stormcrest. The murmur of voices from the main hall spilled around them — a blend of laughter, clinking glass, and the faint hum of mana channels running through the walls.

Her attire reflected the evening’s refinement: a silvery-white gown threaded with faint blue and violet filigree that shimmered under the crystalline lights. Split panels along the skirt revealed a practical alchemical weave beneath, giving the ensemble a balance of elegance and readiness. The Belmonte crest rested at her collar, a sapphire gem catching every flicker of the Pavilion’s glow.

From the small satchel at her hip, a tiny white-and-blue mana beast pup peeked out. Its fur glimmered like fresh frost, eyes bright as it curiously watched the crowd before retreating back into the safety of her bag.

In her hands, Aedri held a folded flyer — the same one that had been plastered across notice boards and tavern doors all over Aslan during the past week. The metallic ink gleamed faintly as she tilted it, the elegant four-pointed crest at its top revealing, in the right light, a faint seven-pointed star hidden within its design.

“You wouldn’t think something tied to a cult would look so big and flashy,” she murmured, voice soft enough to be lost beneath the ambient noise. “I wonder how closely this family’s actually involved… or what they’re even trying to do with all this.”

The pup gave a quiet chirp from her bag, and Aedri smiled faintly but didn’t look away from the crowd.

“When we found this flyer earlier in the week, I thought it might’ve been coincidence,” she continued, tone even. “But that same pattern — the one that was etched into the coin you took from that cultist — showing up again here? It’s too deliberate.”

She folded the flyer neatly and slipped it into her belt pouch. The Pavilion was alive with color and motion: contestants adjusting displays, nobles exchanging pleasantries that dripped with competition, attendants darting between stations trying to maintain order. The atmosphere was bright, but beneath it, something thrummed — like static before a storm.

“So we’ll blend in. Register like everyone else. Let them think we’re just another pair chasing recognition.” Her voice lowered, calm and deliberate. “Whatever they’re hiding, it’ll show itself sooner or later.”

Her gaze drifted toward the registration counters across the hall, where a small line had already begun to form.

“Let’s see what kind of people come here to show off their pride.”

​
@Moonberry

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baron] B, [Apprentice Lancer], [Power Potential], [Get Looped], [Dark Knight], [Knight in Black], [Dark Horseman] - #0E0101
Noteworthy Skills: [Resilient Surprised], Regeneration F
Asset Goal: ?

Edwin’s icy-blue eyes scanned the chamber, his nature easily picking up how pride overflowed it. After all, how could it not? The baron was a creature of pride himself, yet his own was grounded in more palpable reasons.

“This sort of looks is perfect to hide the rot and weakness underneath.” Answering Aedrianna, the dark armored knight stood beside her, arm hooked around hers initially. With his orbs gleaming towards all the opulence in luxury of that place, he found himself at home, truly, except for what was lurking under this façade.

“It could very well be that what was attained was only thanks to the cult’s influence, or perhaps the hopes are for this organization to rise this family over a stagnation that it might have hit on its own.” Those were his best thoughts about the motivations on why would seem to be tied up to it.

Turning his head towards her, Edwin flashed a knowing smile. “Too much coincidence is a telling sign of no coincidence at all.” Nodding, he continued. “Indeed, let’s participate and find out what these whelps are actually planning.”

He then leaned over his lover, his face approaching hers until they were a hair width apart. “Take care, my darling. Give them hell and, if you need my presence, you need just to call me.” Keeping the close, almost touching distance for a moment longer, the dark horseman retreated.

Soon enough, his heavy footsteps began as he strutted towards the Pavillon’s central registry. Only half-way towards the counter, had his armed unhooked from Aedrianna, not he suspected the surrounding nobles would even have noticed: they seem too focused inward to notice anything at all.

And, upon reaching the registry, he put on his most prideful display. Or was it arrogance? Both walked hand-in-hand, after all. “What a quaint little competition, it is being held here.” He began towards whoever was tending the registration, tone half amused, half unimpressed. “It certainly caught my eye that there is even a swordsmanship competition, as I was led to believe ‘Duchy folk’ don’t have the most developed physical abilities.”

With the briefest stings of condescension, he flashed the person a smile. “Might take a gander at it and see what this place can offer in the more physical of matters. Lord Marcher Edwin Stormcrest from Ryke.” While saying his name, it was as if he expected that alone was enough to have his presence in it confirmed.

It has been a few weeks since Noelle got the nauseating curse removed from her by the witch. Ever since she regained some colour to her skin as she was able to keep her belly full, or at least keep anything she ate in her belly. Yet she felt empty. The last few years were a haze to her. She knows good things have happened, but can't recall precisely what.

Noelle was standing in the hall of the pavilion. She got word of this event about a week ago when she saw a flyer for the event at one of the local adventure guilds. She thought this was a prime opportunity to advance her music career. To make her name known to influential audiences. But most of all, these kinds of events have many freebies. With food being the main target of the mermaid. Delicious top-grade delicacies you normally can only get in expensive restaurants. Way above the mermaid’s pay grade. And with her tendency not to have a lot of money to her name at any time. The fact that it was “free” was also a major draw to her.

On second thought, this might not have been the most well-thought-through plan. The level of high society was a bit overwhelming. She herself rather liked to be in the more common folk establishments. With the common people. But adjusting to this audience should not be a problem for her. She has become decently adept at playing her part and shows the etiquette that was expected. And she could always let her foreign beauty speak for her. Although the people of the duchy might be known with merfolk due to their bordering the grand lake. Noelle was not from there. A rare sight of a mermaid from the republic, which was reflected in her attire. A nice-looking kimono in the style from her home region in the north of the republic. A style they shouldn’t see here often.
The game plan for this prideful bunch was modesty and flattery. There is nothing these pompous people like more than having their egos stroked, but without selling herself short so she doesn't look weak and desperate herself.

Noelle took a deep breath before she headed to the central registration. Standing in line, her eyes floated around to see if something would catch her eye. The place looked amazing, although all the mechanical and alchemical stuff was a bit foreign to her, it still looked cool though. The people looked as she expected. Clad in the finest of wear with their prideful attitude. It made the mermaid feel a little bit small with how ordinary she herself was. Once she got the the front of the waiting line, Noelle politely bowed to the registry clerk.
"Good morning, miss/sir. My name is Noelle Nishi. I'm a travelling songstress from Kuridan. I would like to register for the music competition" she said to the clerk, declaring her intentions. While the clerk was busy registering her for the competition, Noelle’s attention was drawn by a person she could see at one of the registration booths a bit further. A tall blond man with piercing blue eyes wearing black armour. Noelle picked up that he was entering the swordmanship competition. Well, he did look the part. Just another noble meathead. All brawn, no finesse. Noelle didn’t think much of it. She was now wondering what she should do until the competition was going to start.

The Pavilion’s murmur wavered as Lord Edwin Stormcrest stepped away from Aedrianna and crossed the main floor toward the registration counters. His armor’s steady rhythm against marble drew glances from more than a few of the gathered nobles, their conversations dipping briefly before resuming with new whispers woven between them.

A few of the attendants behind the registration desks exchanged uncertain looks — the sort reserved for those who were unaccustomed to being addressed quite so directly. The clerk before him, a young woman in a navy vest embroidered with the Thales crest, froze only a moment under the Ryken’s sharp tone.

“L–Lord Marcher Edwin Stormcrest,” she repeated quickly, eyes darting between his armor and her registry slate. “Of course, my lord. Swordsmanship— ah— yes, that category is still open.”

Behind her, two assistants bent over a glowing array of sigils that organized participant entries, their hands trembling slightly as they hurried to record his information. The magi-light above their station flickered in rhythm with their nervous energy.

The nearby nobles, unable to resist, began trading hushed commentary.
“Ryke nobility here? How fascinating.”
“He’s a Marcher Lord, isn’t he?”
“No, no — the way he carries himself, he must be one of those mercenary-knights they hire in the borderlands.”
Polished laughter followed, but not loudly enough for him to hear.

Edwin’s mention of “Duchy folk” and “physical ability” earned one or two stiff smiles from the judges’ aides standing near the dais. Lady Avelyne Duross herself — the culinary chemist seated closest to the end of the table — glanced his way, expression unreadable, one brow faintly raised as if curious whether the knight’s arrogance was genuine or deliberate performance.

Across the hall, Noelle Nishi stepped forward in her own line. The crowd made space for her without quite meaning to — not out of disdain, but simple fascination. Her soft voice, the flowing lines of her kimono, and the faint shimmer of sea-colored light in her hair drew eyes even among the nobles too proud to stare openly.

Her politeness was disarming, and the attendant registering her name responded with almost flustered courtesy.
“Ah, a songstress — yes, of course, Miss Nishi. Welcome to the Exhibition! Music will be performing on the mid-hall stage. Please follow the luminescent guides when the announcement is made.”

As her name was etched into the luminous registry, her category — Music, Vocal Artistry — joined the swirling constellation of runes above the central display. A few of the nearby artisans turned at the word songstress, curiosity flashing briefly before returning to their work.

But even amid the chatter and motion, tension buzzed near the judges’ table. A steward whispered urgently to one of the aides; the older man’s face was pinched with worry.
“Still no word from the fifth,” he murmured. “Lord Thales insists we begin on time, but without a full panel—”

The aide frowned, lowering her voice.
“He said he’ll find a replacement. Just keep it quiet until he does.”

Their conversation disappeared beneath the swell of new arrivals. The Pavilion was beginning to fill — artisans displaying prototypes, musicians testing tones, cooks heating their enchanted stoves. Laughter mingled with mana’s hum, though an undercurrent of unease threaded through it all, like a wire pulled too tight.

One by one, names continued to glow and fade across the registry board: Stormcrest, Nishi, Belmonte.

And as the clerks scurried to catch up with the growing list, a faint chime rang through the hall — a reminder that the opening ceremony was meant to begin soon.

Still, the fifth chair at the judges’ table remained empty, its pale gold frame catching every flicker of light like a silent question no one dared to ask aloud.

The Pavilion’s noise deepened as the first wave of contestants completed registration. The faint ringing of mana chimes signaled attendants to begin directing participants toward their assigned staging areas. The Exhibition hadn’t even officially started, yet the Pavilion already pulsed with nervous energy — movement, chatter, and the quiet click of crystalline pens etching last-minute names onto glowing panels.

“Ah— yes, my lord,” the clerk said quickly, forcing a smile. “The swordsmanship entrants are being gathered near the western promenade — that way, if you please. My colleague will escort you.”

The attendant swallowed hard, clearly aware of who he was dealing with.
“R–right this way, my lord.”

The western wing of the Pavilion opened into a wide, sand-dusted ring bordered by low mana barriers. Along its perimeter, a few other contestants were already preparing. The air there was less perfumed and far more charged — the scent of oil, steel, and competition.

One of the duelists, a tall woman in ceremonial red armor, was testing the weight of a blade that glowed faintly with bound fire. Another, a lean swordsman in cream-colored attire, performed small warm-up cuts, the edge of his rapier whistling audibly through the air. Both paused as Edwin approached, their eyes flicking briefly his way — not hostile, but assessing.

From the shadows near the far end, a gruff voice called,
“Another noble, eh? Hope he’s better than the last one who strutted through here.”
The speaker — a broad-shouldered mercenary with a scar across his chin — spat to the side and began strapping his gauntlets tighter.

The attendant, sensing tension, cleared his throat nervously and bowed out of the way, leaving Edwin to take in the competitors as the mana barriers shimmered faintly, waiting for use.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the Pavilion, Noelle Nishi was guided toward the east hall — the Performing Arts Wing.

Here, the atmosphere was very different: warm lights glowed along the edges of a circular stage, and the air smelled faintly of incense and polished crystal. Rows of instruments lined the walls — everything from stringed harps and lutes to experimental magi-harmonics and wind-craft pipes powered by mana breathers.

Performers milled about, tuning, stretching, humming — each surrounded by their own small bubble of self-importance.

A pair of attendants waved her forward.
“Music competitors will take turns on the mid-stage. Warm-ups are permitted until the judges signal readiness,” one of them explained briskly, clearly repeating a rehearsed line for the hundredth time that evening.

Nearby, a tall elven woman in an elaborate gown was practicing scales that shimmered with light as she sang — her voice magically harmonized with itself, leaving faint trails of gold in the air. Another contestant, a short, sharp-eyed man with dark curls and a silver flute, watched her with irritation, tapping the mouthpiece against his palm.

When he noticed Noelle being escorted in, he gave a lopsided grin.
“New blood? Try not to make the rest of us look bad too early.”
His tone was playful but edged with condescension.

The elven singer, overhearing, simply arched a brow and resumed her glowing scales, the air humming faintly around her.

The attendants, oblivious to the undercurrent, smiled politely.
“Please make yourself comfortable, Miss Nishi. The first round will begin shortly — once all judges are in attendance.”

When Edwin moved toward the registry, Aedrianna lingered a moment longer beneath the Pavilion’s crystalline archway. The crowd’s hum seemed louder now — laughter masking unease, confidence hiding curiosity.

She joined the registration line, smoothing the folded flyer in her hands before tucking it away again. Nearby, two aides spoke in hurried undertones over a clipboard glowing faintly with mana.

“Lord Thales still insists on starting on schedule.”
“But one of the judges hasn’t arrived. We can’t open without a full panel.”

Aedri’s attention flicked their way — her expression polite, neutral. Missing judge. The idea sank quietly into her mind like a pebble dropped into still water. She wondered, for just a moment, whether that absence was part of the strange pattern she and Edwin had been tracing since they’d found that coin.

When her turn came, the clerk looked up with a trained smile.
“Welcome to the Grand Exhibition. Name and category, please?”

“Aedrianna Belmonte. Vocal performance.”

The pen scratched across the registry tablet.
“Of course, Lady Belmonte. The east wing is reserved for the singers and performers — you’ll find the attendants there. Good luck.”

She thanked him with a nod and stepped aside — just as a small motion tugged at her hip. The pup, impatient with the confinement of her satchel, had wriggled halfway out, paws on the rim and tail flicking like a wisp of silver smoke.

“You little escape artist…” she murmured with faint amusement, lifting the tiny creature into her arms as she followed the glowing path toward the east wing.

The sound of music grew clearer with every step: voices rising and falling, the metallic ring of instruments tuning, the pulse of mana amplifiers humming beneath the marble floor.

And then she saw her.

Noelle — standing beneath the stage lights, sea-colored hair catching gold and blue reflections from the crystal sconces.

For a heartbeat, Aedrianna forgot where she was. Her breath caught, and a rush of warmth filled her chest so suddenly it almost hurt. The last time she’d seen her friend felt like another lifetime — because, in truth, it had been.

Her throat tightened, eyes stinging before she could stop them. She drew a slow breath, composing herself as best she could, the smile that followed luminous and trembling all at once.

She crossed the distance in a few measured steps, the little mana beast nestled against her arm like a piece of living starlight.

“Noelle! I’m so happy to see you again! I could hug you— can I? How have you been? It feels like it’s been… far too long.”

Her laughter was soft, carried by genuine joy that broke through the Pavilion’s polished veneer. For the first time since entering the grand event, Aedrianna looked wholly, unguardedly alive.

​
@Moonberry
@Tellussoil

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baron] B, [Apprentice Lancer], [Power Potential], [Get Looped], [Dark Knight], [Knight in Black], [Dark Horseman] - #0E0101
Noteworthy Skills: [Resilient Surprised], Regeneration F
Asset Goal: ?

Edwin was thoroughly delighted by the discomfort he caused to the clerks who signed him up, making a point of staring directly into their eyes during the signing process. And, when catching wind of the commentary of him being a mercenary, the grin which was splattered across his face just widened. The perfect first impression had been delivered.

After having his registration confirmed, his gaze slid towards some songstress that had registered just after him. Unimpressed, her ogling of the food made him think she was some homeless runt that had stumbled into the contest. “A pity.” He rumbled to himself, thinking of the drastic tainting of the whole event: it was worse than mere cultists, it seemed.

His attention then drifted towards the judge’s aides, if only for a moment, his armored hand tapping against the shaft of his three-pronged lance, creating a methodically metal clink in set intervals. That was, until his gaze landed upon Lady Avelyne herself. He stared back at the woman, openly and undisguised, his expression stony. He would keep the gaze, as an almost primal contest of dominance, daring not to glance away. Not until she did so.

And more and more contestants showed up, likely eager to show off their meager, insignificant skills, a certain scene caught his sight, making his golden eyebrow arch: Aedrianna calling out for the famished, destitute wretch. ‘Aedrianna, you should focus your efforts in ways that actually give you a better return… but I guess your pure heart brings you to help the miserable. I will fix that, in due time.’ He thought to himself, fully misplacing how the two came to know each other.

“To the Western Promenade it is. I do hope that the magic from the Duchy is actually effective in lessening slashes, cuts and bruisers, or that you, at least, have some cleric at the ready. I would hate to be blamed for not controlling my own strength.” He told both of the clerks, tone chilling, rumbling, filled with both malice and promise. A brutal beast covered by a thin layer of etiquette. No warmth could be found in him at that moment.

He stepped into the sandy arena just as he had crossed towards the register: heavy steps that did nothing to conceal his presence. Much on the contrary. His azure eyes glanced over the place of battle itself and then towards the competition.

His expression was unchanged, keeping its chiseled features, almost as if it was a marble bust. Yet, there was a glint of interest behind his azure orbs, one that heralded that maybe, just maybe, there would be some fun in addition to pulling the cur out of his hidey-hole. “Let me guess, you are all from outside the Duchy, fighting for yourselves or earning some coin from a noble to do it in their place?” He blurted that out, voice loud enough for it to carry, as his expression changed to a knowing grin.

Upon noticing the curiosity in the room upon Noelle calling herself a songstress, the mermaid smirked internally. The self-imposed title was being received better than she expected. Although if these people thought it meant what she meant with it was the question.
As she waited till she was guided towards the stage for the competition, Noelle overheard some of the aides panicking about the last of the judges who had yet to show up and about this “Thalas” person going to hopefully solve this issue in time. It sounded troublesome, but ultimately of no concern for the mermaid. She was there [strike]to feast on freebies[/strike] to make her music heard. With or without that final judge, it will happen.

There was a faint chiming sound from the magic crystals to announce to the contestants to go to their designated areas. A kind aide helped Noelle to the eastern hall to prepare for the music competition. The plan was for each of the acts to perform their acts at the central stage when they were called. That should give Noelle ample time to prepare. She had an idea of what kind of show she was going to put on to knock these stuck-up buffoons off their pantaloons!

Noelle looked around a bit to see what other contestants there were. Her gaze fell for a second on an elegant elf with the scales that resonated with her voice. Those scales looked so cool, changing colours with the pitch of the elven woman. Then Noelle’s attention was drawn by a voice calling her fresh meat. Noelle looked at the sharp-eyed man. She noticed the arrogant undertone in his voice [Insight E]. He was underestimating the little mermaid. "Why, thank you. It is a major boost to hear the confidence of someone of your renown." she answered the man with a brimming smile "But you should focus yourself on your own act. Don't want to see you get so easily outdone by a common travelling musician like. That would be embarrassing," she retorted with the same bright smile. A silent challenge and jab at the man’s ego. Noelle was confident she had the skills to do at least well in this competition.

Noelle was wondering which song she should sing in the first round. She shouldn't go too hard in this round. She should leave the best for the final to really hit it home. Then again, giving her the best now might also be fun. Really showing these bozos what they were dealing with! Decisions, decisions.
Suddenly, someone called out her name. Noelle turned around to see that it was a girl of around her age. Long blond hair with the tips coloured in various colours. Noelle felt like she had seen this girl before, but she couldn’t remember from where. The girl asked many questions. But it didn’t reach the mermaid's ears. It happened so fast. Without thinking, without words, Noelle stepped forward and hugged Aedrianna. Her body moved on its own. Not by mind but by command of the heart. A tear rolled down her cheek as she was embracing the girl. Noelle held on for a few seconds before she snapped back to reality. "Oh! I’m sorry, I'm sorry. I don’t know what just came over me" She profoundly apologised as she stepped back "I..I hope I didn’t insult you or anything… My name is Noelle, Noelle Nishi. And who may you be?" Now she was closer to Noelle. Aedrianna could notice that, although this was definitely the same person she had known before. There was something different. Noelle’s eyes were dull. The light that was in there before has quenched. The only glow left in it is a tiny yellow coloured circle around her pupils.

The moment Noelle’s arms wrapped around her, Aedrianna froze. Her mind went utterly blank — not out of fear, but because the world seemed to stop.

That warmth… that scent of sea breeze and lavender. It was the same as she remembered.

For one long heartbeat, she let herself exist only in that memory — laughter echoing between them beneath the stars, Their singing together as they walked along the roads they traveled. And when the fair lights reflected in the water that last night, Aedri had promised herself that friendship like that didn’t fade.

But now… it looked like it had been stolen from her.

When Noelle stepped back, stammering apologies, Aedrianna blinked away the tears that threatened to form. Her chest ached, but she managed a fragile smile all the same.

“You could never insult me, Noelle.” Her voice trembled softly before steadying, her words threaded with emotion she couldn’t quite contain. "We traveled together for a year and a half almost! I'd like to think we understand each other well enough to greet each other warmly...right?" She chuckled nervously, suddenly wondering if maybe the memories that she'd regained weren't all that right. Did Noelle not remember her?

"You helped me find the Skythorn blossom...and we traveled to the Ryke fair together...I know that doesn't sound like a lot but..."[/color] she hesitated, suddenly feeling hyper self conscious. Perhaps those golden memories weren't all that golden.

The words faltered. Suddenly, every memory she’d held so dearly felt fragile, uncertain. Perhaps what she remembered wasn’t the whole truth after all.

A gentle movement drew her back — the tiny mana beast pup in her arms squirmed, letting out a soft, crystalline chirp that broke through her spiraling thoughts. Aedri’s gaze softened. The small sound grounded her.

Before she could say more, the Pavilion’s crystal chimes rang sharply overhead, scattering the moment like shards of glass.

“Performers! Please gather — performance numbers are being assigned! First round begins shortly. Number one will open the stage!”

Aedrianna glanced up as the glowing sigils flickered to life above the stage. Her number shimmered faintly — 13. The last to perform. Of course.

Her eyes drifted to Noelle once more and she offered a delicate smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Somewhere, beneath the polite composure, a quiet ache lingered — hope that maybe, just maybe, she’d misread that reaction after all.

The Pavilion’s radiance intensified — a crescendo of light, sound, and expectation.
Energy coursed through the conduits like living veins, bathing the crystalline walls in gold. Conversations fell to a hush as the ceiling mirrors shifted, focusing the illumination toward the center stage.

The air held its breath.

And then, the great doors at the Pavilion’s far end burst open.

A hush rippled through the hall as the missing judge finally arrived.

He was impossible to mistake — tall, impeccably dressed in white and gold robes trimmed with prismatic thread, his cape trailing like liquid starlight. Each step clicked sharply upon the marble, his polished boots leaving faint trails of mana light in his wake. A jeweled mask framed the upper half of his face, though his smirk was plain enough — the practiced smile of someone who knew exactly how long people had been waiting for him.

“My apologies for the delay,” he said, voice smooth and confident, carrying easily across the hall without amplification. “A show of pride deserves to begin with proper attention, after all.”

He bowed — barely. It was more performance than courtesy.

An attendant scurried forward to pull out the empty chair, nearly tripping in the process. The new judge sat with a casual elegance that bordered on arrogance, one gloved hand lifting a silver monocle to inspect the contestants below.

At center, the Performing Stage unfurled — panes of glass and alloy cantilevering outward with a sigh of steam. Resonance wards glimmered to life along the lip of the platform, and a single, brilliant beam found the empty heart of the stage.

An auburn-haired attendant stepped forward with a glowing ledger, voice precise and sure.

“Performers, to order! First round begins now. Each act will have five minutes to display their craft before the judges confer.”
She glanced at the roster as numbers bloomed in pale light above waiting competitors.
“Opening the Exhibition… Number One. Noelle Nichi”

The crowd quieted. Silk rustled. Someone’s nervous scale cut off mid-note.

Across the Pavilion, the Western Promenade thrummed with a different promise.

Mana barriers rose around the sanded ring, casting a cool blue ellipse that rippled over stamped footprints and chalked range marks. Attendants finished their checks and retreat steps, palms raised to signal the field was hot.

A registrar lifted a baton, voice carrying cleanly to the outer rail.

“Preliminary Bout One is set! Edwin Stormcrest of Ryke will face Captain Ral Orvin of the Thales City Guard.”

A stir ran through the onlookers. The Guard captain stepped from his mark, steel catching the Pavilion’s light.

“Lord Stormcrest.” A measured salute, soldier-straight. “We show them form before force. On the signal.”

From the judges’ west platform, a herald raised the start sigil.

“Combatants — present.” The mana field thrummed, louder. “Begin on tone.”

A crystalline chime poised on the edge of release.

Two stages. Two trials.

​
@Moonberry
@Tellussoil

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baron] B, [Apprentice Lancer], [Power Potential], [Get Looped], [Dark Knight], [Knight in Black], [Dark Horseman] - #0E0101
Noteworthy Skills: [Resilient Surprised], Regeneration F
Asset Goal: ?

Upon seeing the baton being raised, Edwin shifted his stance: he slid his right foot backwards, steel boots scrapping against the sand; left leg, now taking the forefront of himself flexed slightly, knee bending a few ticks. Meanwhile, the grip on his three-pronged lance shifted, rather than holding the armament with a single hand, it was now held with two, tip pointed against the ground momentarily.

It was as if he sensed he was about to be named one of the contestants for the first round, even more his name was uttered and his ‘hunch’ was right.

Edwin’s icy blue stare gazed upon his adversary, the predatory edge on it was unmistakable. There was, however, a silent hum that left his lips. “A captain of the guard? Well then, Captain Orvin, shall we see what comes about first: spectacle or might?” With the question being thrown to the air, the marcher lord lunged.

Sand was kicked up in the air as he began charging against the captain, the sound of the heavy plated armor groaning and moving against each other, catching the light that illuminated the pavilion and swallowing it whole, ominously. [Action 1]

And, upon reaching his opponent, the Baron swang, rather than thrusted, moving his lance in a wide sweeping motion, hoping to slam the hefty shaft against the sides of the captain. [Action 2]

“Just a warm-up!” He uttered, pulling back one of his arms and shooting forward the other, now attacking with the end of the lance instead, using the blunt tip as a mace, aimed at side of Ral’s face. [Action 3]

Actions:
1 - Charge towards his opponent - Athletics F - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown
2 - Wide Sweep - Fighting Style [Lance] E + Deflect F - Grade E 1 Post Cooldown
3 - Basic Attack

STR A (6) + Fighting Style E (2) + Lance B (5) + Combo (1) = 14 Base Effectiveness

CD: E 0/1

Noelle listened to what Aedrianna said to her. The girl really spoke as if she knew Noelle. Yet Noelle absolutely can’t remember the things she said. Well, to be more precise, she can’t remember the whole Skythorn mission and travelling with Aedrianna. But at the same time. Noelle didn’t think she was lying. She knew Aedrianna wasn’t lying. The way she spoke [Insight E] and the emotion in her tone [Empathy E]. They were genuine. This girl was speaking the truth, or at least she whole heartily believed she was telling the truth.
Combined with the fact that the timeline of things Aedri said coincides with the foggy parts in Noelle’s memory. Makes her believe Aedri might be telling the truth. Although there was no way to prove it to be true. This was so frustrating!

Noelle bit her lip. What was she to do? She didn’t want to upset Aedri. Yet to lie and comply to know her was wrong, too. Noelle let out a deep breath. How painful this might be. It had to be done.
"I… I’m sorry miss. Know, I believe what you say isn’t a lie, it’s just…" Noelle’s eyes were mournfull."I…I can’t exactly remember any of the things you just said" Noelle’s eyes were cast down "Eversince I came back from that swamp I… I have problems remembering things… so sorry if I can’t remember looking for the skyARG!!!" Noelle suddenly grabbed her head when she tried to think back to the quest for the skythorn. While most other memories are clouded in fog, thinking about the Skythorn was just an empty void, which trying to access just hurt her brain as she was pulled into that void, grasping at something that wasn’t there anymore.

The soft chirp of the mana beast broke Noelle from her thoughts. Recovering from her brain attack, she composed herself again. "I'm okay" Noelle said, giving Aedrianna an apologetic smile. But there was something on the mermaid’s mind. The skythorn blossom. Although she can't remember looking for it, she knows she had heard of it. But from where? "Oh right! Nan Pass" Noelle remembered the book she picked up in Nan Pass was opened on the page about the blossom when she found it. She was about to reach for her satchel to get the book when the pavilion crystals chimed, announcing that the competition was about to start. "I’m sorry miss. Seems it’s our time to shine now. Let's talk some more later. I have a couple of questions I'd like to ask" Noelle said, giving Aedrianna a polite smile before she turned her eyes to the glyph above the stage.

They were going to announce the order in which the acts were going on stage. Noelle hoped not to have to go too soon. That way, she could gauge a bit at the quality of the competition and plan her first act accordingly. But also because, due to the distraction with Aedrianna, she forgot to decide which song she was going to play.
"Wha!?" This was the worst possible position she could have. Noelle was the first to perform. "shit, shit. What am I to do now? What should I play!?!?" she panicked on the inside. She still had no idea what to do. But she had to decide quickly now.
She looked around, hoping for some inspiration. That was when her eye fell on Aedrianna. Something stirred within the mermaid. A memory speaking to her "That can work" Noelle felt confident now she remembered the perfect song to play.

Noelle got on the stage. With lyre in hand she walked to the centre. "Okay Noelle. This is it" She took a deep breath before she faced the crowd with a friendly smile on her face. "greeting good people. My name is Noelle Nishi from Kuridan. Pray I hope my performance this day may be enjoyable" Noelle bowed politely before she got in position to play her song.


[Performance D] [Magic C] [element water] [Magic AOE D] [Control environment F]

The song started calmly and slowly as she started playing the sorrowful tune. As the first verse started, a light mist started to roll over the stage. Noelle was completely focused on her music as she went into the first chorus. After the chorus came the second verse. With the same fragility and emotion, she sang the verse. She knew she had sung this song before. To a dear friend who was at her deepest point. When the second Chorus started, bubbles started to appear around her, spreading out over the stage. As she repeats the chorus, some of the bubbles start to float up causing the light of the crystals above to be refracted through the bubbles causing a light washing through the hall, reminiscent of the light one could see on the surface of the sea. During the bridge, Noelle made the bubbles shift around a bit causing the light to imitate a wave pattern as if the room was underwater. It was time for the final. As she went into the single to last chorus, Noelle calmed down the volume. Gathering power for what was about to come. Then as the final chorus was initiated, the ground beneath Noelle’s feet lit up as her magic circle activated. Energy started to swirl around her as more bubbles appeared from the circle spreading around. Going into the outro, the bubbles start to fly around. Dancing through the air in circles with a pace matching the upbeat music until… as she struck the final note, all the bubbles simultaneously popped into a pretty, sparkly finally.

When the sparkles and the mist cleared Noelle bowed before leaving the stage. <"That went well i think"> She said letting out a deep breath. That was way scarier than she had anticipated for her first time playing on such a big stage. But she felt she did well. Now it is time to see how the others were going to do.

The Pavilion breathed as one — its lights dimming to a soft marine glow as the first notes of Noelle’s song drifted into being.

The mermaid’s voice rose like water breaking through silence. Each chord from her lyre shimmered outward in concentric ripples, spreading across the air until the entire hall seemed submerged in her melody. The mist rolling along the floor caught the chandeliers’ glow, bending it into pale ribbons that shimmered around her like moonlight through waves.

When the bubbles began to rise, refracting light into slow-moving currents, gasps rippled through the audience. Even the nobles who had entered with raised brows and folded arms now leaned forward, the reflections of soft blues and silvers swimming across their jeweled collars.

Lord Aurelius Vayne watched through half-lidded eyes, chin resting lightly on his palm. When the final note faded and the bubbles burst in cascading sparks, he exhaled once — slow and deliberate.

“Artistry in restraint,” he murmured for the other judges to hear. “A touch of humility to make the pride shine brighter.”

Lady Avelyne inclined her head, murmuring into her crystalline slate. Around them, polite applause swelled into genuine enthusiasm, a few spectators even rising from their seats.

For Noelle, as the last echoes faded, something strange stirred beneath the relief of finishing. It was not the satisfaction of performance alone — it was exhilaration. A heat blooming in her chest, quiet but insistent, whispering that she had never sounded so divine, that none could match her voice. It was a fleeting thought… yet its echo lingered long after she stepped down from the stage.

In the western arena, the air trembled with a different rhythm — the clash of metal against metal.

The signal chime had barely faded before Edwin’s charge sent sand spiraling skyward. Each strike from his lance resounded like thunder sealed within the mana barrier, the force behind it shaking the very air. Captain Ral Orvin met him with solid, disciplined parries, yet each deflection rang louder, harder, until sparks flared where steel met steel.

Gasps and shouts rose from the crowd.

“He’s forcing the Captain back!”
“That’s not swordsmanship — that’s siege warfare!”

The noble spectators watched with morbid delight. In their private boxes, some whispered bets were being exchanged with glittering coins and knowing smiles.

The final swing sent the Captain staggering — not defeated, but winded, sweat glinting across his brow. The bout was called there, before injury or pride turned to insult.

Lord Aurelius had risen from his seat during the exchange, one hand pressed to his chin in amusement.

“Unrefined, but magnificent,” he commented, voice carrying enough to be overheard. “There is pride so heavy it crushes lesser men beneath it… delightful.”

Applause thundered from the stands. And as Edwin stood beneath the barrier light, that same pulse of foreign warmth crept through him — pride swelling, sharpening. His confidence felt more real than ever, like the entire hall itself agreed with him. The sensation was subtle, yet intoxicating, and it did not fade even as the next duel was called to the field.

“Did you see that swing—?”
“The Captain nearly went down.”
“He fights like a siege engine given a heartbeat.”

Even the competitors who had tried to keep their composure now watched Edwin with a blend of admiration and wary calculation. No one wanted to be his next opponent… and no one wanted to be the fool who backed down either. Pride was the air everyone breathed here.

Captain Ral Orvin straightened, rubbing the side of his jaw with a begrudging smirk.

“Strong.”
He didn’t say too strong. But the word hovered between them.

From the judges’ dais, Lord Aurelius Vayne gave a languid clap — slow, deliberate, the sound somehow sharper than it should have been.

“Spectacle and dominance in equal measure,” he praised. “The Pavilion rewards such conviction.”

And in that instant — subtle as a thread pulled taut — a warmth swelled in the air around Edwin. Not foreign enough to alarm, but sharp enough to feel like the Pavilion itself was agreeing with him. Feeding him. Affirming him.

A touch too intoxicating.

As the officiator dismissed the fighters to await the next bracket call, attendants rushed in to reset the ring and assess the mana barriers for strain. In the bustle, the western arena grew briefly chaotic — perfect cover for a sharp eye or a curious lord to slip unnoticed.

An attendant hurried toward Edwin, bowing stiffly.

“My lord Stormcrest — the next match will take some time to prepare. You may rest or… ah… make use of the competitor facilities behind the stage. The door just past the western pillar leads there.”
A nervous beat.
“Lord Thales encourages competitors to familiarize themselves with the Pavilion’s amenities.”

A polite way of saying: You’re free to move as you wish, so long as you stay out of trouble.
Which, of course, the staff assumed he wouldn’t do.

The path indicated — an archway half-shadowed behind a row of display banners — was momentarily unguarded as attendants rushed about preparing the field. A thin trail of light ran along the floor beneath it, guiding toward storage halls, maintenance corridors, and the back passages that wound behind the main stage.

No one seemed to be watching it closely.

The judges’ attention had already turned to reviewing the next pair of swordsmen.
Spectators were buzzing with commentary about Edwin’s performance.
And a host of servants were struggling with an inventory cart that had jammed against the western wall.

If a man wished to investigate discreetly — to follow the pulse of mana that hummed unnaturally beneath the Pavilion tiles, or to check the judges’ staging area from a different angle — now would be the moment to vanish without notice.

The evening pressed onward, act following act —
An artificer unveiled a miniature storm contained in crystal, lightning dancing obediently along etched glass.
A noblewoman in radiant crimson wove fire into living silhouettes that danced until they collapsed into a bow of embers.
A young scribe painted illusions midair, conjuring scenes of triumph and applause from nothing but mana-ink and will.

Every success fed the growing hum that filled the Pavilion. Every boast, every smile of satisfaction added to the unseen current building within the walls. The air itself seemed to shimmer faintly, like heat rising from a forge.

At the judges’ table, Lord Aurelius sat back, eyes glinting gold beneath his jeweled mask. The faintest smirk curved his mouth.

“Yes,” he whispered, barely audible over the crowd. “Let it bloom.”

When the next chime sounded, the attendants turned once more to the ledger.

“Next to the stage… contestant number thirteen.”

A hush rippled across the spectators as the spotlight shifted, seeking the performer who had waited patiently at the edge of it all.

Somewhere in the east wing, beneath the fading echoes of applause and the shimmer of mana light, Aedrianna Belmonte felt every gaze turn toward her.

The stage awaited — her turn had come.

​
@Moonberry
@Tellussoil

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baron] B, [Apprentice Lancer], [Power Potential], [Get Looped], [Dark Knight], [Knight in Black], [Dark Horseman] - #0E0101
Noteworthy Skills: [Resilient Surprised], Regeneration F
Asset Goal: ?

Spectators and judges couldn’t be even more correct: each of the blows coming from Edwin weren’t merely performative, not simply a feast for the eyes, no. He fought to crush, to maim, to win, even if not putting his full strength in his initial opening against captain. And each one of them blows were delivered with an unchanging expression on his face, lips flat. Only his azure orbs narrowed infinitely at each one of the strikes. And finally, when the fight was called off, Edwin being declared the victor, the dark knight stopped his own lunge, three-pronged lance a few inches from the Captain’s jaw.

“It seems our demonstration comes to an end, Captain Orvin. Luckily, it was just that.” He said with a scoff, raising his arm which firmly gripped his weapon above his head, allowing the briefest of smiles to appear on his lips.

Then came the wave of confidence, of swelling pride. All the heads nodded to him, how could they not? The baron stood there as an apex of his own kind. Maybe even more than that, he was an example amongst every creature. “This is what -proper- stock looks like. Enjoy while I’m here, for no one else will ever come close.” Snapping his fingers, letting a metallic -plink- echoed from the epicenter of the arena, he strode away, corners of his lips curling upward for a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Of course, that is the least that can be offered: a place to rest between the fights. I’m expecting exotic treats, both food and women, to be available for sampling.” There was a thud against the attendant’s chest as Edwin’s balled fist just entrusted the heavy lance into their care. “Make sure it is oiled and sharpened, really to be used against the next whelp I’m supposed to ‘pretend fight’ with. Now, off you go.” Shooing the attendant with one hand, he dropped the act.

This was the perfect moment for investigation, while the fools were distracted. He began walking towards the archway, steps much lighter than usual. And, following the light to a certain point, the nobleman had begun his investigation in earnest.

CD: E 1/1

For a moment, all Aedrianna could do was stand there — heart trembling, breath caught in her throat — as Noelle’s apology hung between them like something fragile and half-broken.

The ache that followed was soft, but it was real.

Noelle didn’t remember.

Yet the hug… the warmth… the tear that had slipped down Noelle’s cheek…

Those weren’t lies. Those were truths her heart remembered, even if her mind could not.

Aedrianna lifted a hand, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she steadied herself.

“It’s alright,” she whispered, smiling through the faint shimmer of tears. “We’ll figure it out together. Whenever you’re ready.”

The mana beast pup pressed its cold nose to her arm, sensing her emotions. She exhaled, the breath trembling — but calming.

Noelle turned toward the stage, determination in her step, and Aedrianna stepped back to watch.

When the lights dimmed and the first notes rose from Noelle’s lyre, Aedri drew in a silent, stunned breath.

The melody…
That song…

Mist unfurled across the stage.
Bubbles danced like drifting lanterns.
Light bent through them in soft, oceanic waves.

Noelle didn’t merely sing.
She transformed the entire hall.

Her voice — clear, wistful, powerful — stirred the crystal panels overhead. The magic responded to her rhythm, as if the Pavilion itself remembered the sea.

Aedri pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the swell of pride in her friend, bright enough to outshine the ache of lost memory.

And yet… something odd flickered at the edge of her senses.

For the briefest moment, Noelle’s aura glowed brighter — sharp, warm, swelling with a pride that did not entirely feel like hers.
The Pavilion seemed to hum in response, like a beast purring under its breath.

Aedri frowned, a soft crease forming between her brows.

But then Noelle struck her final note, and the entire hall erupted in shimmering stardust from the bursting bubbles. Applause surged like a crashing tide.

She had been magnificent.

Aedri clapped until her palms stung.

While the stage reset and another competitor took the stage, Aedri glanced across the Pavilion toward the western arena — just in time to see Edwin’s lance sweep through the air like a force of nature.

Even from a distance, his presence swallowed the space around him.
Steel clashed, sand kicked up, and the Captain staggered back beneath the sheer weight of his assault.

The crowd roared its approval.

And beneath that roar, Aedrianna felt a strange pulse — a faint flare of mana tugging at the edges of her awareness.

Edwin straightened, victorious. For a breath, she saw something flare behind him — a faint golden shimmer, like the Pavilion was whispering yes, good, more.

Her lips parted, unsettled.

Before she could dwell on it, the crystals chimed sharply overhead.

The sigils above the Pavilion shifted.

It was her turn.

She'd been so lost in the emotions that Noelle's song had enticed, and watching Edwin's prowess; that she'd missed all the other contestants before her.

The crowd shifted, murmuring.
Judge Aurelius leaned forward in interest.

Aedri inhaled slowly, setting the pup down on a chair near the back of the stage.

“Wish me luck,” she whispered to it.

It chirped supportively, as she turned towards the stage.

She drew in another deep breath, and straightened her back and shoulders. Lifting her chin, she strode outside with the grace of someone who'd done this walk a thousand times or more. And she had. She'd done this a hundred thousand times. That thought alone drew a bit of pride in her step. She felt something swell in her chest. A feeling she was familiar with as well. The early days of being an idol. Enjoying the idolization and love of the fans.

As she stepped onto the stage, the light of her magic shimmered around her. And with every step it was as if her entire visage had changed. Rather than the blonde hair with the pastel blues and pinks and purples,her hair shimmers a raven black. Shining blue and violet in the light above. Her eyes shimmered between blue and violet. The dress she'd been wearing was suddenly shifted to a black gown with plenty of overlapping layers and chiffon.

She reached the center of the stage and there was no question in her confidence. The pride of her craft from a previous life time oozing from her.

She began to sing.

Softly at first — a single, pure note. But that single note suddenly multiplied. Like three of her were singing alongside her.

Her magic responded instantly.

The air shimmered.

Light bled into color, swirling around her like ribbons of aurora.
A projection unfurled behind her. Suddenly it was as if the stage behind her was a night sky. Blinking light shimmering and flickering in and out behind her. And the image of shadowy figures started dancing behind her, in rhythm to a percussion that seemed to be coming from all around.

The night sky illusion deepened, constellations blooming behind her like memories awakening.
As she moved, the stars moved with her — drawn to her voice, orbiting her wrists and shoulders like living light.

Her voice rose, stronger with each note.

She wasn’t just singing.
She was becoming.

Becoming the girl she once was on Earth.
Becoming the alchemist-nomad she had grown into here.
Becoming something new — something woven from both lives, from every death and rebirth in between.

Her singing multiplied again in shimmering echoes, her magic catching the sound and fracturing it into layered harmonies that filled the Pavilion like a choir of starlight.

Illusionary petals drifted across the stage — pale, weightless, luminous — dissolving into sparkles when they touched the ground. Behind her, the shadow-dancers spiraled upward, dissolving into galaxies that winked out as she hit her high notes.

With each step, ribbons of silvery mist swirled around her ankles, blooming outward like wings taking shape behind her silhouette.
The illusion never overtook her — it accompanied her, responding to the rise and fall of her mana as naturally as breath.

Her voice soared.

And the stage answered.

When the chorus burst forth, the entire sky behind her exploded in soft radiance — clouds of pastel starlight swirling like blooming nebulae. Golden dust rained from overhead in a slow, dreamlike cascade. The ground beneath her glowed faintly, tracing an intricate magic circle of shifting constellations.

For a moment, everyone watching forgot to breathe.

This was no simple bard.
No wandering singer.
This was a girl who had lived and died and lived again —
and her soul was singing.

Aedrianna felt it too.

For the first time since arriving in this world, she felt whole.
Not just a survivor, not just a mystery to herself —
but someone who was meant to shine.

Power, beauty, presence — all of it swelled within her chest until her heartbeat felt like it could spill from her ribs.
She felt radiant.
She felt unstoppable.
She felt proud — fiercely, brilliantly proud.

And as she sang the final lines, her magic built to a crescendo.
The illusion behind her gathered itself into a single brilliant star, pulsing with every note of her voice until—

A final burst of golden-white stardust swept across the stage, dissolving into tiny motes that drifted upward like rising prayers.

The lights softened.

The illusions faded.

And Aedrianna stood alone again, hair returning to soft pastel-blonde, dress settling back into its silvery-white shimmer.

The crowd erupted.

Applause, cheers, gasps —

But the judges—

The judges did not clap.

They whispered to one another behind folded hands, eyes cold as glass.

Lady Avelyne leaned toward her crystal microphone first.

“Excessive. Over-decorated. This is a talent competition, not a fireworks display.”

A ripple of confusion passed through the audience.

The next judge barely hid their dismissive sigh.

“Her illusions attempted to compensate for uneven technique. Style without substance.”

Aedrianna’s smile flickered.

She stood very still.

The third judge shrugged as if already bored.

“Derivative. A pretty lightshow, nothing more.”

Gasps.
A few people protested under their breath.
Someone whispered, “Were they even watching?”

Then Lord Aurelius Vayne, the newly arrived judge, leaned forward with a lazy, razor-sharp grin — the kind that cut more than any blade.

“She believes herself a star,” he drawled.
“But stars are only bright when the sky around them is empty.”

The Pavilion fell silent.

It felt like the air itself dimmed.

Aedrianna felt something in her chest — that beautiful, swelling warmth of confidence — suddenly contract.
As if invisible fingers pinched the light inside her and snuffed it smaller.

Her shoulders softened.
Her posture curled in by barely a fraction — but noticeable.
Her voice, when she spoke her polite thank-you, trembled.

She bowed.

And as she turned to walk offstage, the swell of pride she had felt moments before trickled out of her like water through cupped hands.
She held her smile — but it was thinner now, faintly brittle at the edges, haunted in her eyes.

The audience still applauded loudly, defiantly.

But Aedrianna barely heard it.

For reasons she couldn’t yet understand, every step carried a growing meekness —
as though the Pavilion itself was quietly whispering:

You don't deserve to shine.

Her act went better than she expected and it seems the crowd also liked it. This was all Noelle could ask for. Even better. It felt like she did better than she ever did before. Was this due to playing on such a big stage? No, that’s not it. She has played for a comparable just as many people before at another festival. And she knew she wasn’t playing much better than usual. Then why does this stage make it feel like she was? Something was not right here.

Noelle got off the stage and went to the waiting area to watch the other acts. But not just the other acts, but also if she could notice if something was off. The stage doesn’t seem to have anything out of the ordinary. And there wasn’t anyone in the crowd who was acting more suspicious than expected during the acts. That is, until Noelle’s eyes fell on the jury. Most notably, the one with the golden mask, who was late. The guy gave her the creeps. If anyone was scheming something, it was that guy. Well, if he was thinking he could bind her with some exclusivity contract so that he could completely control her creative endeavours, then he will be disappointed. The travelling songstress lifestyle, Noelle finds way too fun to give up for some promises of fame and glory. Especially from a creep like him

Finally, it was time for the act of the mysterious girl Aedrianna. Noelle watched the performance with interest, and she wasn’t disappointed.
Her voice was beautiful, and how she played with the light was nothing more than stunning. Aedri’s act was the best one Noelle had seen in this round, hands down. And not just that, this was the only one she actually paid full attention to.
When Aedri shifted into the black haired form, something stirred in Noelle. A memory resurfacing. Not from happenings past but from a time before she was in this world. A seaside town. A girl with dark brown hair tied up in a ponytail, cycling home from her job, ear buds in her ears, listening to music. A message on a forum. An idol who died of throat cancer. A song by the idol is playing in the girl’s ears. A smile appeared on the girl’s lips.
So familiar, yet so strange. As if she had seen these scenes before.

Aedri’s performance was over. As the last note silences and the last starlight fades, the crowd erupts in cheers. A deserved compliment for the blond girl. Unfortunately, the judges were not of the same mind as the audience. They dismissed her act as a mere play of fireworks. Show, no substance. Noelle saw how it broke the girl's pride.[Empathy E] She was more than willing to raise her voice in protest with the judge's words, but that would bring no difference. Instead, her efforts were better placed and comforted the now depressed Aedrianna.

When Aedrianna got offstage, Noelle instantly pulled her into a hug. "Don’t listen to what those stuck-up, short-sighted buffoons said. You did great," Noelle said, trying to comfort Aedri "all that matters in the end is not what a single person thinks of your performance but yourself. You gave it your all. If you’re happy with it, that is all that matters" Noelle smiled genuinely "And if it means something. I thought you did great. And if you would listen to the crowd, you will realise I'm not the only one. And what sounds louder? The words of four bitter snobs and the cheers of the crowd?... they are just afraid of the real talent you showed that they couldn’t do do anything but envy it" Noelle let go of Aedri and took a step back "A star shines bright when nothing is around indeed. For it is the light in the darkness. Shining with hope, guidance and determination for those who see it. But it is not when the star is at its brightest. A star can truly shine its brightest when it shines with others, for a sky full of stars will always shine brighter together than a star alone… so… are you ready to show them how bright a star really can shine?"
Noelle hoped that she was able to cheer the girl up a bit. Those judges were really too cruel for no good reason. Too cruel for anyone to deserve that.

The contestants’ resting hall lay just beyond a pair of arched doors at the Pavilion’s rear — a softer, quieter pocket carved out of all the spectacle.

Warm lamplight replaced the sharp brilliance of the main stage. The walls here were paneled in pale wood and brushed steel, threaded with faintly glowing mana lines that pulsed in slow, calming waves. A handful of low couches and high-backed chairs were scattered around in conversational clusters, their upholstery a tapestry of deep blues and violet-grey.

Along one wall stretched a generous refreshment spread:
tiered trays of delicate finger sandwiches, jewel-bright candied fruits, wafer-thin crackers paired with soft cheeses, and tiny glass cups of layered mousse that shimmered faintly with an alchemical sheen. Crystal decanters held chilled fruit waters and light wines, each resting in recessed basins cooled by humming frost-crystals.

Despite the comforts, the air was anything but relaxed.

Clusters of contestants lingered in pockets — a trio of inventors practically glowing with self-satisfaction, one of them laughing too loudly every time someone mentioned “high marks.” A pair of dancers basked in the afterglow of effusive praise, posture loose and expansive, every gesture radiating self-importance.

For those who had received the judges’ favor, pride clung to them like a fine cloak — visible, heavy, almost inflated.
For those cut down, something in their posture looked smaller, movements tight and timid, as if confidence had been siphoned quietly from their veins.

When Edwin stepped through the archway, the atmosphere shifted around him.

A cluster of noblewomen near the refreshments turned almost in perfect unison at the sound of his approach. A heartbeat later, they drifted toward him like petals in a current — fans raised, perfume sweet, smiles painfully polished.

“Lord Stormcrest, was it?” one cooed, eyes shimmering. “Your form in the arena was… breathtaking.”

Another tittered behind her fan.
“I’ve never seen a lance wielded with such precision.”

A third let her gaze slide, unapologetically appreciative.
“Or such power.”

Within moments, a ring of admirers closed around him.

“Where did you train?”
“Are all Ryken knights that formidable?”
“Will you be competing again later, my lord?”

Nearby contestants watched him with a blend of smugness and envy, their expressions tightening as the noblewomen ignored them entirely.

Further across the room, pockets of bitter pride simmered:

“I was told my technique was ‘remarkably advanced.’”
“Some of us simply have standards.”
“Not everyone can handle honest critique.”

On the far end, Noelle had the clearest view of the narrow corridor leading backstage.

Movement caught her attention.

The golden-masked judge — Lord Aurelius Vayne — had finally risen from his seat.

He moved with a smooth, unhurried grace, the faint lamplight catching the metallic etching of his mask and the polished tip of his cane. He stopped beside a young contestant whose performance had been met with tepid commentary.

Noelle couldn’t hear every word, but she saw the judge lean in — too close, too deliberate.

“…wasted potential can still be shaped.”
“I can offer… correction.”

The boy stiffened — then relaxed, suddenly compliant.
A gloved hand rested lightly on his shoulder, guiding him toward a more secluded alcove.

They slipped behind a wall.
And vanished.

Back in the center of the hall, a pocket of space had formed around Aedrianna and Noelle. Their earlier embrace had drawn a few looks — some confused, some curious — but gossip elsewhere pulled attention away again.

An attendant drifted past with a tray of gleaming crystal goblets.

“Complimentary refreshments, honored contestants,” they murmured with a serene smile.
“You’ve all worked so hard to entertain Aslan tonight.”

The words were soft. They should have been comforting.
But beneath them, the Pavilion hummed — not with peace, but with something subtle and unsettling.
Pride shifting, bending, blooming too bright.
Confidence ebbing away too sharply.

High above, faint bells chimed — signaling that the judges were retreating briefly to “deliberate” before announcing the first cuts of the night.

The moment Aedrianna stepped offstage, every ounce of the radiant pride that had carried her through her song collapsed inward like a star folding in on itself.

She didn’t even have time to steady her breath before Noelle was suddenly there — warm arms wrapping around her, holding her together when she hadn't even realized she was falling apart.

Aedri blinked, eyes stinging.

Noelle’s voice — gentle, firm, unwavering — washed over her like a tide.

“Don’t listen to what those stuck-up, short-sighted buffoons said…”
“You gave it your all…”
“A sky full of stars will always shine brighter than one alone.”

Aedri swallowed hard.

Her throat hurt.

Not from singing — from trying not to cry.

She lifted her hands slowly, hesitantly, as if afraid the moment would shatter, and returned Noelle’s hug — soft, almost weightless.

“You… you’re so kind,” she whispered, voice trembling.
“Even when you don’t remember me, you still… you still care the same way.”

Her smile wobbled, but it was genuine — fragile, but bright in its own way.

“Thank you, Noelle. Truly.”

The words were small.
She felt small.

The judges’ voices still echoed in her head — sharp, dismissive, cold.
Each one had left little cracks in the glow she’d carried onto the stage.

Excessive.
Derivative.
A star only shines when the sky is empty.

Aedri felt herself curl inward at the memory.

At her feet, the tiny mana-beast pup trotted up with soft, rapid steps.
It pressed its cold nose against her ankle, sniffing her clothes with confused urgency — as though smelling something on her that didn’t belong.

Its ears flattened.

A soft, uncertain mewl vibrated against her skin.

Aedri tried to steady herself, but —

Then Noelle squeezed her shoulders again, warm and present, and for a heartbeat the ache softened.

Until—

Her eyes wandered across the resting hall.

And there — in the center of a blooming circle of noblewomen — stood Edwin.

Not simply surrounded.

Adored.

Praised.

Hands fluttering toward him, reaching for him, voices melting around him like honey.
Smiles too sweet. Laughter too bright.

Aedrianna’s breath caught.

The ache returned — sharper this time, sinking beneath her ribs.

She watched long enough to see one woman lean in close, fingers brushing his shoulder.
Another giggled behind her fan, eyes glimmering.

It was a harsh reminder that she was just some girl from the Paizu Mountains.
A girl who couldn’t even impress a single judge, let alone compete with women who moved with polished confidence and duchy-born grace.

Every thread of confidence she’d ever had felt frayed away — severed by the dull blade of the judges’ comments.

The pup, sensing the twist in her emotions, pawed softly at her shoe.

When she stepped back from Noelle, the tiny creature followed — but hesitantly, confused, sniffing the air around her again as if trying to understand what had changed.

Aedri’s smile thinned into something apologetic and brittle.

“Noelle… um…” Her voice wavered.
“I—I’m really glad you’re here. And I’m grateful for you.”

She swallowed, forcing her expression to remain gentle, composed.

“I think I should… go practice for the next round. If I even made it.”

Her fingers curled around the strap of her satchel, knuckles paling.

“I’ll see you soon, alright?”

She turned away too quickly — before her voice could crack.

Her skirts swayed softly as she slipped toward one of the quieter alcoves, shoulders drawn inward, steps faster than her usual measured grace.

The mana pup followed after her—

—but after only a few steps, it stopped.
Its nose twitched again, ears flattening as though it sensed something that made it hesitate.

With a soft, distressed mewl, it padded back toward Noelle.

It sat beside the mermaid’s feet, tail curled tightly around itself, gazing at Aedri’s retreating figure with wide, worried eyes.

​
@Moonberry
@Tellussoil

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baron] B, [Apprentice Lancer], [Power Potential], [Get Looped], [Dark Knight], [Knight in Black], [Dark Horseman] - #0E0101
Noteworthy Skills: [Resilient Surprised], Regeneration F
Asset Goal: ?

Edwin barely made past the archway, when he found himself surrounded by a trio of noblewomen, not exactly what he was hoping to find as he delved deeper into the entrails of the event. And, with the scent of perfume reaching his nostrils, and sweet compliments reaching his ears, he found himself at an impasse.

"It was quite the sight, wasn’t it? Not even close to how I perform on the battlefield, but I suspect you, ladies, got a small taste of it.” With not even a thread of humbleness in his very being, he answered the trio, a self-confident smile, that not quite reached his eyes, present on his lips. “It does take a special kind of man to wield a lance, even on foot, but…” He leaned closer, seizing the jaw of one of them with an armored finger, the steel chilling and voice dropping to a conspirational tone. “... here I am.”

And moving his gauntlet away from the woman, he walked towards the table with the refreshments with commanding presence. Grasping one delicate, crystal goblet, sapphire eyes sliding towards the admirers. “I was trained by the best lancer in the Second Continent, Ser Cedric of Allenport.”

With those words leaving his mouth, eyes began searching about while he poured some of the cool light wine into the goblet. Eventually, his eyes would catch a glimpse of a golden mask in the distance, narrowing ever so slightly at the very sight. “Ryken knights, as competent as they are, are certainly -not- my peers. After all, only the best are expected of a Marcher Lord such as myself.”

Turning around and facing the gathered crowd, he sipped on the light wine, its softness not that appreciated. “Perhaps I will allow for another demonstration of my skills later…” And, upon hearing some whining and envy from certain contestants, he saw his opportunity. “... is that so? A remarkable technique?” His voice was suddenly loud, booming and carrying effortlessly. “Well then, why don’t the three of you explain their nuances to them?” His open hand glided through the air, motioning towards the noblewomen and gathered admirers. “I will leave you to it.”

With a mock bow, he turned around, crimson cape fluttering behind him. Sipping the wine while he watched by the corner of his eyes how much attention was still on him.

Even with Noelle’s kind words, Aedrianna didn’t want to cheer up. The girl spoke appreciative words about the mermaid; those were genuine. But Noele knew that inside the girl was still suffering from despair. [Empathy E] Why does she crave the recognition of the jury so much that she is blinded to the voices around her? What did she have to prove? Noelle wished she could help the girl. But if she just doesn’t want to listen, what could she do?

That was when she noticed movement from the jury table. The masked member got up and moved into the crowd. Noelle tried to keep an eye on him without making it obvious she was doing so. She noticed the masked man approached a man who had gotten lukewarm reactions from the judges. She tried her best to eavesdrop on the conversation [Enhanced hearing F] but couldn’t hear everything the creep said. She did pick up on him saying that wasted potential could still be shaped and that he could offer "correction" when the man leaned in.

That creep was up to no good. Could he be linked with this suspicious atmosphere in the pavilion? Noelle was expecting these snobs to be a prideful bunch. But this was a bit more than she expected. The ones who had good reviews from the jury were even more prideful than usual, while those with less than stellar reviews were just depressed. Not even in denial, as she would have thought some would be, just depressed. Although she doesn’t have any means to detect magical fluctuations or sense the effects of any kind of spell or effect, Noelle felt it in her gills that something was up. Now, only she knew what she might be able to do about it. Or in the worst case, if she discovers something is really wrong, and she can’t do anything about it, she could always escape without regret. Although she has the desire to save as many as she can. Her own safety was always president. Knowingly sacrificing herself for a lost cause would mean nothing. Although given she had the opportunity, if she was to flee, she at least wanted to bring that girl with her. Noelle had no idea why she desired the safety of Aedrianna over anyone else. Yet, unlike the pride, this desire felt natural to her. She dismissed the thoughts as more pressing matters were at hand at the moment.

Noelle watched as Aedrianna decided to seclude herself to practise. "Miss?…" The mermaid didn’t know what to do. She wanted to go after her and try comforting the blond. But no words seem to get through to her. Yet leaving her alone in this state. Who knows what might happen?
But the masked man was most likely up to no good. And investigating what he was doing there behind these walls will hopefully grant her a path to make things better for more people, including Aedrianna.
"You noticed it too, didn't you, little one?" Noelle said when she noticed Aedri’s mana beast had come to her, mewling, distressed. She knelt down and scratched the beast behind the ear "Something is absolutely not right here" Noelle picked up the beast softly petting its head while she held it in her arms [Animal handling E] "I also worry for her. But I suspect something or someone makes her unable to see reason… And I have my suspicion who" The calm facade Noelle was holding up till then broke. The beast could notice her breathing was heavy, her heart beating faster than normal, and her body trembling. "My performance earlier was just a fluke, completely a spur of the moment. I could never pull that off a second time, not this quickly. What if they realise I'm just a fraud? It’s still not too late to run away.Y̵e̴s̴,̸ ̷a̷b̵a̴n̵d̴o̷n̴ ̵e̶v̶e̵r̷y̸o̶n̶e̴.̷ ̷T̵h̸a̸t̴ ̷i̵s̴ ̴a̸ ̸s̶m̴a̶r̸t̷ ̴i̴d̵e̵a̵,̴ ̶d̴a̸r̶l̸i̸n̶g̸.̷ But they rely on me here. Oh spirits help me!! H̵o̵w̶ ̶p̴a̵t̸h̵e̸t̴i̶c̷a̵l̷l̸y̷ ̷c̸u̵t̴e̶ ̸y̸o̸u̷ ̶a̵r̴e̴.̴w̵o̴r̵r̸y̶i̴n̵g̴ ̵f̸o̷r̵ ̷n̵o̴t̵h̴i̷n̸g̵." The pride has clashed with Noelle’s kind and humble nature, turning her mind to distress. She was just holding on to a calm demeanour to not alert Aedrianna those around her.

The faint bell chime announcing the Jury’s retreat reminded her that she had to make a decision now. Follow Aedrianna to make sure she is safe, or investigate for nefarious deeds done by the members of the jury backstage. With a heavy heart, Noelle made the decision.
Still holding the magic beast in her arms, Noelle casually moved towards the wall where she noticed the masked man guide the performer to earlier. Looking around from time to time to make sure she wasn’t attracting the attention of potential trouble. Reaching the wall, Noelle leaned against it right next to the entrance to the corridor that leads behind the wall. She listened to see if she could hear the masked man backstage and, at the same time, make sure the coast was clear so she could slip inside the corridor to follow the masked man. "Just remain calm, okay. The faster we figure out what is going on, the faster we can help her." Noelle whispered to the magic beast while she covertly tried to peek into the corridor to make sure no one was there.