Without interacting with anyone, Catalina carries a cart full of chocolate milk, a plate of rice cakes in the flavor of birthday cake, and a bowl of raspberries, planting them on a table in an empty study.
Sliding onto the chair, she sticks a straw into the cart of chocolate milk. Her communicator morphs into a book shape, displaying her email mail. She clicks open the document sent by Shadeen, zooming in on the bold words spelling Gemini.
The occasionally sound of crunching and swallowing fills the room, her eyes roaming over the relic links—Ambassador of Climates, Everlasting Fairytale, Blood Angel Metatron, Infinite Fool, Phantom Slayer, Silent Wisdom, Blue Raven, Prince of Deception, Heavenly Hope, Laughing Goddess, Mighty Ruler.
'Only eleven available?'
While the sages are the ones who bestow relics in the first place, the owners can decide whether to share access to their attribute, given it's their tale that crafted it.
Catalina thoughts wander, sucking her into a pool of disquiet. 'Why don't the sages make a law that everyone who crafted a relic enables it for usage? Is it the same reason as to why earth doesn't share its method of zodiac paths?'
'Greed is more fulfilling when you are the only one pursuing. Who did I overhear say that again? Ah, yes. My grandma. I miss her.'
Slamming her mind with countless thoughts to conceal her grief and longing, she recognizes the title of Kian Sagan, his relic incorporating the strongest ice, known as red ice, that can freeze even heat or fire.
People claim him as a fake brother of Hael Melpomene because he is adopted while Hadeon Demios is blood-related and the eldest of the brothers. Those in possession of dragon traits can live for a very long time even if they don't ascend the limits of mortal life, making Hael the oldest pillar and Hadeon the oldest council head.
From what she has heard growing up, the three brothers, Hael, Kian, and Hadeon fought for the position of pillar through gentle means, taking over a hundred years because of it, using a bet on who could gain more popularity that would surpass the previous Pillars of Winter Clan.
In the end, Hael came out on top a decade ago, his reputation as Snow God earning him it. Meanwhile, the two other brothers' gotten in their own conflict over a woman named Kahlei. In one of their journeys across the Elysian Cosmos, they met a beautiful fae and both fell deeply in love.
Hadeon gave up pursuit of Kahlei, his people pleasing tendencies breaking his will of desire. As he stepped aside, distancing himself from Kahlei, he ended up pushing Kian and Kahlei together, but his feelings never went away.
A couple years later, she met a tragic fate. Hadeon blamed Kian and even went as far as to change his last name to Kahlei's, putting a semblance of a line between them, vowing his hatred publicly.
Catalina finds their past to be distressing and sad, her empathy for the older figures in her life overwhelming.
She heard of Kian's relic through her relatives, but not the actual lore of it. Not wanting to think of the past any longer and curious of what she'll need to do to gain Phantom Slayer, she presses the link to the relic information, an eagerness swelling in her chest, followed by a tremor of nervousness.
The tale of Phantom Slayer unravels in her ears, the voice deep and smooth: "In a world managed by a god whispering as a speaker of fate, a faded soul lingered in the depths of her old hometown, praying for the return of home. Answering her prayer, a league descended on mercury and welcomed her into heaven in the form of bonds.
Overjoyed with her new life; the girl found peace and love in Kian Sagan, but in the distance—realms away, in the grove of her world a wail echoed like rain. Years later, she wished to see her world again.
Upon their return to mercury, the speaker of fate declared the girl her property, stating only a blade forged in dragon scales can free her.
Kian ravaged realms and fought dragons to forge the fated blade that would free his love, and on the day their destiny danced on the string of fate—a truth was untangled, for the girl was a phantom with the fate of a ghost. The ghost being the dragon he slayed, making her salvation her very doom. As he reached for her one last time, ice claimed her the same way it claimed the dragon, freezing her in a crystallized death.
In his weeping sorrow, he pressed his hand against the glassy surface, with the image of her lips parted in a scream for help tearing apart his last straw of humanity."
Catalina's fingers brush against cold fruits as she stuffs her mouth, brows raised in disbelief. 'His fucking relic involves Kahlei? I can't even escape her existence, and I have never met the bitch!' Shaking her head, she rubs her chest to ease the ache. 'It's sad. I don't like feeling sad about someone I couldn't even attempt to help. So pointless…'
Picking her pace of eating, hoping the delicious snacks will ease her emotions, she thinks: 'I don't see why Uncle Hadeon blamed Kian. It's the speaker of fate's fault. Emotions can cloud logical thoughts….'
'How the hell am I supposed to ignite Phantom Slayer?' Her fingers meet at the bottom of the bowl, and she sighs. 'If it's what I think it is… I don't think I have the heart to do it. Whoever does is a madman.'
She ponders for a few long seconds, debating if she should grab more raspberries, then decides to hurry through the relic information to expand her options of which one she should aim for first. Although they won't be learning how to wield relics or walk in the path of igniting one until next year, she refuses to be unprepared.
She swipes down, eying the words under Ambassador of Climates—a fierce snowstorm that blankets the area in ice and snow, reducing visibility and hindering movements.
She taps on the link to the tale, her eyes widening at the name highlighted in the text. Alastair Holden.
'He attended Lightless? Is he still here? He's around Ziven age so he could have graduated.'
Catalina's first friend, one she views as her true friend, started in her childhood, when she was seven years old. Since then, she hasn't encountered good friends, people who wanted her for the right reasons.
Blocking the memories out, she forces her mind on right now. She bites her lower lip, a slight tremble in her fingers as she clicks play, expecting his voice to resound in the room, but she hasn't seen him since she was ten, so even if it were his voice, she wouldn't know. However, that does not stop the rush of nervous excitement.
"One bitter evening, Alastair Holden visited a small unknown village on the western continent; his arrival brought forth cold clouds that gathered and cast overhead, bringing a storm of snow never seen in the village. The weather was cold as ice and eerie as darkness. Gray fog surged through the modest buildings, bursting open doors and windows, inviting the strange winter in.
The villagers welcomed the boy, unaware he was the cause of the snowstorm, offering him warm food and comfy shelter. The leader of the villagers, with a heart full of kindness, led his family astray by allowing Alastair refuge. The children of the leader grew quickly fond of the boy's gentle smile and treated him as if they'd been best friends forever."
Catalina stomach sinks, unease constricting her throat.
"That very day, in the middle of the night, they dined, savoring the heat of the creamy soup before they huddled together as night carried on. Cold air ruffled the streets; a frostbite slowly ate Alastair from within. At the crack of dawn, when the strange weather finally ceased, the villager's leader awoke to the corpses of his children; both his daughters and sons cradled Alastair, their warmth of vitality evident in Alastair's glowing eyes.
The village leader's scream was both haunting and alarming, awakening every resident in the village. From that moment on, the word demon was shouted to dusk to dawn for the rest of the villager's lifespans, for it was a climate warning to never open your heart, even when it feels right."
Thoroughly disgusted, Catalina shoves herself up, exhaling a long breath, and nearly breaking the table out of frustration and confusion. 'This is insane. To think my gentle Alastair could be so… brutal. He was a kid the last time I knew him, but still… it feels so wrong.'
After calming down, reminding herself that what she perceives is never the full picture, attempting to find hope in that commonality, she begins to theorize the depths of the relic. 'This seems intentional… as the name implies. Ambassador… He was sent there to craft a relic. How old was he when this relic was crafted? It doesn't say. How fucking stupid.'
Making a sound somewhere near a groan and a strangled cough, she tugs at her stranded hair strays, pulling a little too rough, evoking pain in her scalp. She does it a few times before she realizes it's odd and distances her hands from her body, as if they'll break her in half.