There are rows upon rows of books on either side of the room. Every nook and cranny of the mountainous rock has been fashioned into a shelf, while in the back, built on a bed of stones, is a bed. The more I look around, the more I realize that this is an inhabited space. Most likely...

"Welcome to my humble abode," the high priestess speaks, appearing out of nowhere to the right. She rests her palms against a wooden table, regarding us intently with those unusual eyes of hers.

"Uhm." I clear my throat. "Why are we here?"

"Why indeed." She smiles, turning her gaze to Wyn. "Who are your parents?"

"The Duke and Duchess of Sigmore," Wyn murmurs in a low voice, tightening her grip on my arm.

Her brows go up in surprise.

"I have not heard anything about Sigmore having a prodigy on his hands," she comments. "In fact, rumors have been swirling for years about his mediocre daughter, diametrically opposed to his son, a celebrated General of Aperion."

"My sister is not mediocre," Wyn bursts out.

The high priestess tilts her head to the side.

"It is rather unusual, is it not? Neither the duke nor his duchess has ever been particularly accomplished, yet two of their children are decidedly...too accomplished. Cerenios I could understand, he is the firstborn. But you? You are the youngest, are you not, and the thirdborn?"

Wyn doesn't reply, her lips trembling as she glares mutinously at the priestess.

"I have not encountered a red-level recruit before, never mind one so young, so you will have to excuse my skepticism," she murmurs as she manifests another sphere. "Please touch it again." She inclines her head toward Wyn as the sphere floats to her.

Gulping down her apprehension, Wyn drops her arm from my side, opening her palms to receive the white sphere. Like before, when the particles bind to her spiritual power, the color becomes deeper and deeper until there's only a bright red emanating from the sphere.

"Sensational," the priestess declares in awe, her eyes glued to the deep red of the sphere. "You are, indeed, a prodigy. Have you manifested any abilities yet?"

Wyn tentatively nods. "One," she answers.

"What is it?" the priestess asks eagerly, taking a step forward.

"I can manipulate matter, like my family, but I am not very good at it..."

"Show me," the priestess demands, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Wyn glances at me as she nibbles on her lower lip.

She presses her fingers against the sphere, and the light intensifies, the shape changing to an elongated lasso that bounces to the ground. Yet the moment it's out of her grasp, the red becomes white again, though still maintaining its new shape.

The high priestess nods. "Is that all?"

"Erm... Yes. I have not trained yet."

"I see. It is a good thing you are here then, for I shall train you."

"What do you mean?" Wyn blinks in surprise.