Chapitre 2: The Lilies Park
Marina walked slowly through the park, her hands tucked into the pockets of her gray jacket, the standard color assigned to the children of Ien. Her blue eyes drifted absently from one flower to another, but her gaze seemed distant, as something deeper was tormenting her. Her blonde hair struggled to maintain the neat bob cut and swayed slightly in the wind, though she seemed not to notice.
The Lilies Park stretched out like an oasis of tranquility, surrounded by a frame of unparalleled nature and beauty. Its structure resembled a kind of campsite, but with a mystical aura that only the Blendbreeds could perceive. At the center of that almost sacred place, two plazas were bordered by twenty-four different houses arranged in a perfect double circle, forming a layout reminiscent of the infinity symbol.
The buildings, some simple and others elegant, varied greatly in size and style, yet they all blended harmoniously with the surrounding environment, as if nature itself had intended to integrate them into the landscape.
The natural garden that adorned every free space in the park was a spectacle of colors and fragrances. The white lilies, which gave the place its name, swayed gently under the light wind, their petals shimmering with a luminous glow, as if they themselves were releasing the mana particles that permeated the atmosphere.
Tall and majestic trees offered shelter from the October sun, their branches arching naturally over the pathways, creating shaded and peaceful trails. In the middle of the park, small gravel paths led to different locations: the beach, with its shimmering sand and waters that gently lapped at the shore; the arena, where the Blendbreeds could train their skills or challenge each other to improve; and finally, the temple promontory, a raised area overlooking the entire park, where the main administrative building and the temples dedicated to the gods stood.
Every breath of air was filled with mana, a pulsating energy that vibrated through the leaves of the trees, seeping into the skin and thoughts of anyone who stood there.
The Blendbreeds were brought to this place to learn about their true nature, to discover what made them special. For some, it was nothing more than a refuge, but at the same time, it served as a school, a temple, and a battlefield—both physical and mental—where the identities of the new generation were forged.
Marina crossed the central plaza, the beating heart of the park.
At its center, a monumental statue dominated the space: four heroic figures sculpted with solemn expressions and poses that suggested a great battle in progress. They were the lost heroes, legendary Blendbreeds from Daffodils Academy who had left an unfillable void only a few years prior.
I wonder what happened to them. The gods lost four valiant generals for their army.
Every time the girl looked at that statue, a sense of melancholy and mystery crept into her heart. She tried to recall their names, but for some unknown reason, her usually sharp memory decided to betray her.
Their names were… why can't I remember them? They're on the tip of my tongue.
She spent a few minutes reflecting before letting out a frustrated sigh. One of the most prominent traits of Ien's children was their near-photographic memory, so she couldn't understand why the information was slipping away from her.
She waited another moment before shaking her head in irritation and moving on. Her thoughts shifted to Shirei, the supposed Forbidden Heir she had met that morning.
Lyceum had asked her to keep an eye on him, but he had suddenly vanished at the end of the lesson, and she had no idea where to find him.
Marina stopped for a moment, her thoughts fixated on him. Where could he be? Her mind failed to provide an answer.
I need more information to form a valid hypothesis.
Ever since he had disappeared, the morning chatter around her had faded into background noise as she focused on solving an enigma that was consuming her from within. She couldn't explain what she was feeling, but she sensed that she had met someone who had the potential to be truly intriguing.
And my curious nature only pushes me to seek more information about him.
There was something about him, beyond the latent memories, that drew her in.
His father's influence, perhaps? That is, if he really is his divine parent.
Assuming Shirei was a son of Cragar, Marina wondered how he had managed to survive for so long without reaching the park—if he had been fleeing from monsters all that time or if he had been taken away to Daffodils Academy after his sudden memory loss.
The mystery of the violet-eyed Blendbreed had definitely captivated her.
There's no point in thinking about it if I can't find him first.
Marina acknowledged before resuming her walk. Her destination was the Seventh House, the home of Ien's children.
As much as she hated to admit it, being a daughter of the goddess of wisdom came with responsibilities—not just toward others but also toward herself. After her early years at the park, she had even been deemed perfect for teaching lessons as a member of the staff.
Always being the guiding light for newcomers, the mentor everyone sought, was a burden that sometimes weighed heavily on her. And yet, despite it all, she deeply loved Lilies Park. For her, it was one of the few places where she could truly find peace—far from the chaos of family responsibilities and the expectations that had loomed over her since childhood.
Every time she walked along the park's paths, she couldn't help but feel a deep connection to that land. It was as if the mana flowing through the air spoke to her, whispering words of comfort and wisdom she had long sought from her mother.
There, among trees and lilies, she could allow herself to be truly herself. No masks, no need to pretend to impress the adults or her house.
There, the pressures of the outside world dissolved, and all that remained was Marina—pure and simple.
She resumed her walk home, and once again, her thoughts returned to Shirei. Her mind lingered on the boy's face, on his calm violet eyes. She couldn't explain it, but she felt that, somehow, their fates were intertwined—as if those purple irises concealed a truth long dormant in their souls.
A void that had once been filled with memories.
Am I really thinking about him? she asked herself, slowing her pace. Maybe the mana is getting to my head. I'm starting to overthink about a Blendbreed, as if I don't see new ones every day.
At last, she stopped in front of the door to the Seventh House. The wind ruffled her hair slightly, and for an instant, she had the eerie sensation that an invisible presence was watching her. She turned around abruptly, but there was no one. Only the park, now growing livelier and noisier, was there to keep her company.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
She made her way to the room she shared with her half-siblings and closed the door behind her with a gentle motion, shutting out the wind and the sounds of Lilies Park.
I should grab some breakfast, I'm still starving, she thought, resting a hand on her stomach.
She had almost decided to head to the dining hall when her gaze paused on her desk. On it was an almost controlled mess—notes, scrolls, and books she had left open the night before. Without hesitation, Marina began tidying up. She put the volumes back in their place and quickly arranged her notes into neat piles.
One notebook, in particular, caught her attention—a folder filled with notes on Cragar's children, which she had left open in a rush, interrupted by the sudden wave of sleep that had overtaken her the previous night.
She flipped through the pages, scanning the information she had gathered during her time spent with her best friend.
Cragar, god of the dead and the Underworld, had offspring of devastating potential. His children were rare, often bearers of chaos and change—like calamities that altered everything in their wake.
And you, Shirei, are exactly that, aren't you?
She closed the notebook with a sigh, pushing those thoughts away for a moment. Letting herself fall onto the bed, she stared at the ceiling as her mind spiraled into a vortex of reflections. Being a daughter of Ien had always filled her with a deep sense of pride, but sometimes she wondered what it truly meant. What did it imply to bear the weight of wisdom? She had never been the kind of person who got lost in the thrill of power or physical strength.
Yeah, I'm growing up… I need to understand what to do with the gifts I've inherited.
She was happy to be a guide for newcomers. Every day, confused and frightened Blendbreeds arrived at the park, torn from their ordinary lives and thrown into a world of monsters, gods, and supernatural powers. It was her duty to help them find their way, to make sense of it all. Yet, she had never experienced that same sense of disorientation.
Since she was a child, she had known she was different—just not in that way. Gods, monsters, and legends had always been part of her daily life. She had immediately grasped the dynamics of the supernatural world, growing up with the awareness that she was meant for something greater.
Or at least, that's what I was raised to believe.
Marina shifted on the bed, sitting up with her back against the wall and her legs crossed. Despite her responsibilities, despite the respect and admiration she received from others, there was a part of her that felt profoundly alone. Few truly understood what it meant to carry the burden of being her.
To smile, to teach, to be the bright presence everyone sought in times of difficulty. Yet deep inside, there were moments when loneliness struck her with force.
She thought a lot—perhaps too much. Often, when her thoughts grew heavy, they turned into a storm that pulled her in.
"Being a Lupi…"
Her gaze drifted back to the walls.
Architecture and art had become her mental escape.
When she lost herself in designs or structures, when she envisioned palaces, cities, bridges defying gravity, her mind freed itself from worries. Every detail of a column, an arch, an engraved window allowed her to detach from that oppressive weight, to find order in the chaos. The precise lines and structural calculations gave her a sense of control that, in her life, always seemed to slip away.
She wondered which of her parents had passed down those passions to her and unconsciously smiled.
But despite those moments of escape, her mind always returned to the bond that tied her to her mother. Ien, the goddess of wisdom, was a distant figure, yet present in her every thought.
Being attentive meant seeing what others did not, anticipating the consequences of one's actions and those of others, being aware of possibilities and dangers.
That awareness, however, had distanced her from her peers. While others lost themselves in games and jokes, Marina felt she always had to maintain a certain seriousness—a responsibility she could not afford to ignore. She couldn't be as carefree as the others, and to many, that made her seem distant, perhaps even cold at times. Even though, deep inside, her soul was filled with complex, often conflicting emotions.
Maybe that's why I feel so comfortable around other outcasts… I see myself in them, and I feel at ease.
She wondered if Ien was watching her at that moment. Perhaps the goddess was always there, lurking in her thoughts, ready to intervene if necessary. What would she think of her? Marina often pondered that question.
Had she lived up to Ien's expectations? It was hard to say.
I wonder if she even considers me special… I'm not her only daughter, after all.
Sometimes, her mind didn't offer clear answers—only more questions. On one side, there was the duty to be a leader for others, a good daughter for her family, and a source of pride for her mother. On the other, she would have thrown it all away just to fulfill the desire to simply be herself—a girl with dreams and aspirations, with uncertainties and fears.
Just a teenager…
Where did she belong? Was she destined to follow in the footsteps of those before her, to be a guiding light in a world in constant turmoil? Or could she choose a different path? One that might take her away from her inheritance, perhaps.
It was in moments like these that the days passed more quickly, and yet Marina felt trapped in a kind of stasis that distracted her.
It had happened before.
She wondered, for a moment, if Shirei, like her, felt like a prisoner of a fate he had never chosen. Maybe he was searching for a way to escape his legacy as a son of Cragar.
If he really is his father, that is.
She stepped inside, immediately breathing in the familiar scent of fresh hay and animals. She paused for a moment at the entrance, listening to the delicate sound of hooves scratching the floor and the calm breathing of the horses resting in their stalls. Walking down the rows of boxes, she finally reached Nebula's, her rust-colored horse.
As soon as the animal saw her, it lifted its head and huffed softly, as if recognizing her immediately. A small smile crept onto Marina's lips.
"Hello, Nebula," she murmured, finally feeling a bit of peace return to her heart.
Marina watched the thoroughbred, losing herself in the slow movement of its breathing. The animal's deep eyes observed her with silent calm, almost as if it could understand what she couldn't put into words.
Nebula was a majestic horse, one that did not belong to the Mortal World. It was more than just an animal—the only memory she had chosen to take with her when she left.
I would never have abandoned you there for anything in the world.
Nebula let out a small neigh, as if greeting her. Marina smiled, more out of habit than true joy, and grabbed a brush hanging on the stable wall. She began running it over the horse's coat, a gesture so automatic it felt second nature. The bristles glided lightly over Nebula's sleek fur, and as she repeated the motion, she felt the tension slip away, as though her thoughts could find momentary peace in that simple, affectionate act.
"It's been a strange morning, you know?" she asked rhetorically, as if the horse could truly understand her.
"I can't stop thinking about this new guy, about where he might have gone and why he disappeared so suddenly. Maybe it's stupid to worry so much, but I can't help it."
Nebula seemed to listen, its steady breathing and slight shake of its mane the only response. Marina continued brushing in silence, finding comfort in the tranquil interaction.
Then, like a whisper carried by the wind, something tried to catch her attention.
At the edge of her vision, beyond the golden woods surrounding the park, a sudden glow flickered between the trees. Marina kept brushing without turning, her heartbeat quickening slightly.
Among the foliage, an ethereal figure took shape. It wasn't clearly visible, but it seemed almost like a wolf made of light—an apparition both translucent and radiant, moving with grace through nature.
The mana resonated in the daughter of Ien's chest, awakening a fraction of the powers she preferred not to use.
Marina's heart began to pound as she tried to imagine what—or who—could be behind her.
She wasn't sure what it meant, but she knew it wasn't a coincidence.
Ien. It had to be her mother.
The goddess of wisdom had sensed her state of mind and was trying to communicate with her, even if not directly. That strange sensation was merely a manifestation of divine power and presence—perhaps a reminder that she was never truly alone, even in moments of doubt.
The apparition vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, dissolving into the shadows of the trees before Marina could decide whether to turn and look at it or not.
Perhaps her mother was watching her.
Perhaps, in some way, she had always been watching over her.
Marina lowered her gaze and continued brushing Nebula, her movements slow and deliberate.
"That's probably all I need,"she whispered to the creature, «to know that my efforts don't go unnoticed.»
Nebula huffed again, as if confirming her words. That reaction made Marina smile, and she clapped her hands before announcing, "Alright, girl! It's time I tell you about this morning's lesson!"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone