Level 5 + Miracles In The Making
Sublevel 1 + Her Own Person
In the hall of the High Council, four of the five chairs that sat upon the low platform were filled. Lantis sat in the one to the far right; Zagato in the second. On the opposite side, Eagle sat in the one furthest to the left, and Ferio sat next to him. The middle chair remained unoccupied.
There were now two small tables set up on either side of the platform, forming three sides of a square. Three sat at each table, all in pale gray robes. At the right table, Caldina sat nearest the platform, with Ascot in the center and Aska on the end. At the other table, Clef sat nearest the platform, while Presea was in the center and Geo on the end.
The High Council was silent. They were not here to discuss at the moment --- they were here to wait.
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"You have chosen to accept your destiny, correct?"
Nova nodded in response to the White Lady's question. "Yes. I... I'm not very brave all the time, and I am scared. But I accept."
The fair-haired woman smiled. "Good. Then let us begin the preparations. We must present you to the High Council."
The field of dandelions disappeared, and Nova found herself in a small room with polished wooden floorboards and whitewashed walls. It was mostly bare, save for a tiny little circular platform that sat in front of a series of three full-length mirrors in one corner; a wide wardrobe that sat in the opposite corner; and a small, white table that sat against one wall with a chair pulled up to it and mirror above it.
The White Lady opened the wardrobe doors, peering inside. She called Nova over. "Let me look at you."
She pulled out different articles of clothing, holding them up near Nova and making little noises of frustration. At last, however, she found something she liked, smiled, and draped the clothing over one of her arms.
"Please take off your clothes, Nova," she requested. "You'll need to change."
Hesitantly, the pink-haired girl obeyed. She stood, shivering, her clothing piled on the floor near her, her arms crossed self-conciously over her chest. The White Lady handed her a white cotton chemise, which Nova pulled over her head gratefully.
Humming softly to herself, the White Lady picked up a plain, pale pink sleeveless dress. She handed it to Nova, who slipped it on, glancing down at herself as the White Lady moved behind her, buttoning up the back. The dress fit snugly over her torso, then fell loosely from her hips. She smiled a little. It was comfy.
Her companion gave her another dress, this one a deep crimson, and Nova got into it with a bit of difficulty. This one had long sleeves that traveled slightly past her wrists over the backs of her hands; they were fitted along her upper arm, then fell away at the elbow and down. At her waist, the red cloth parted and swept away, revealing the pink skirt underneath. The White Lady stood behind her, lacing up the dress from the waistline up to the neckline.
After putting on a pair of simple shoes that matched the second dress in color, Nova let the White Lady usher her over to the little platform with the mirrors. She took in her breath sharply as she caught a glimpse of herself in the glass.
"You look beautiful," the White Lady sighed.
Nova turned to one side, then the other, then turned with her back to mirror and looked over her shoulder at herself. "I... I look so different."
"It becomes you." The White Lady beckoned for her to step down, and she did. The woman in the white dress led her over to the white table, instructing her to sit in the chair.
When Nova had seated herself, the White Lady opened a drawer in the side of the table, revealing a series of brushes, combs, and the like. Nova groaned. The White Lady laughed softly, picking up an ivory brush. "Just sit still, my dear. I'll be gentle."
She was. The White Lady managed, somehow, to work out the tangles in Nova's wild, knee-length hair without causing its owner any pain. She could not, however, tame the energetic waves in it, not even after trying several different combs. "Perhaps it's better that I don't," she said with a smile. "It has character this way."
Once Nova's hair was brushed, the White Lady returned to the wardrobe, pulling out a light mantle made of a darker red than Nova's dress, a near-black color. She set it over Nova's shoulders, tying the string in front. She smiled. "Are you ready to face the High Council?"
Nova fidgeted. She was far from ready. "Um... yeah."
"Then let us go."
Nova hesitated. "Um... could I ask a question first?"
The sad, sapphire eyes smiled back. "Certainly."
"What..." She fumbled over her words nervously. "Um, what should I call you?"
The White Lady smiled gently, grasping Nova's hand in hers. "You may call me by my real name," she murmured. "Call me Emeraude."
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The High Council sat in their respective seats, hoods pulled down over their faces to shadow their features. They all stared toward the main doors, awating what they knew was coming.
At last, the heavy doors creaked open. Emeraude, the White Lady, the Owner of the Light of Emeraude, stepped inside. She glided up the white carpet, a pretty young girl clad in red drifting behind her.
Emeraude nodded to each of the High Council. "I now present to the Council the Lady Nova."
The woman in the white dress swept herself away, taking her seat in the center chair upon the platform. Out of nowhere, two young servants emerged, carrying pillows with delicate articles set upon them. One had the princess's small, simple tiara, which she handed to Emeraude with a deep curtsy. As Emeraude put it on, the second servant approached. She fell to her knees and bowed her head, holding out the soft, plush pillow. Upon it sat the glowing sphere that contained the Light of Emeraude.
Emeraude lifted the little glass sphere in her two small hands; the servant retreated, vanishing. The sad-eyed woman slowly embraced the Light, and it melted into her body, releasing a warmth and radiance that was not present in the past.
The princess sat up a bit straighter now. A calmness seemed to have fallen over the hall.
"Nova," Emeraude said gently, "has been told of the role she is meant to play."
Uncomfortable as she stood before the platform and between the two long tables, Nova shifted her weight between her feet nervously. She glanced at all the Council members --- their faces were shrouded.
"Does she understand it in full?" asked Presea calmly.
"Quite," Emeraude confirmed.
Clef spoke next. "And she has accepted her destiny?"
"Yes." Emeraude's deep marine eyes met Nova's tear-filled blood-red ones. "Nova has agreed to take up my position as the new Owner of the Light.
"And," she continued, "it shall no longer be known as the Light of Emeraude, but now as the Light of Nova."
The pink-haired girl blushed, muttering to herself, "It doesn't sound quite as good."
"My dear, it doesn't matter how it sounds. All that matters is how you handle it."
Nova bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut against tears. Damn, why was she crying? She never cried. "I... I'm..." Internally, she cursed her stammering. "I'm..." Nova drew a deep, slow breath, calming herself and attempting to maintain her pride. "High Council, I'm very frightened."
"That is understandable," Geo replied evenly. "The responsibility you are taking up is no light one." Her was rewarded with a simple nod from Nova.
A deep, soul-shuddering sigh escaped the cranberry-eyed girl. She placed one hand over her chest, longing for the aching emptiness to be there, all the while knowing that it was not and never would be again. She was Nova. Hikaru was Hikaru. They were separate --- they had to be separate - and she would have to be her own person now.
An odd determination began to burn in her heart. Nova snapped her head up, her fiery eyes piercing those of Emeraude. "Tell me what to do."
Sublevel 1 + Her Own Person
In the hall of the High Council, four of the five chairs that sat upon the low platform were filled. Lantis sat in the one to the far right; Zagato in the second. On the opposite side, Eagle sat in the one furthest to the left, and Ferio sat next to him. The middle chair remained unoccupied.
There were now two small tables set up on either side of the platform, forming three sides of a square. Three sat at each table, all in pale gray robes. At the right table, Caldina sat nearest the platform, with Ascot in the center and Aska on the end. At the other table, Clef sat nearest the platform, while Presea was in the center and Geo on the end.
The High Council was silent. They were not here to discuss at the moment --- they were here to wait.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"You have chosen to accept your destiny, correct?"
Nova nodded in response to the White Lady's question. "Yes. I... I'm not very brave all the time, and I am scared. But I accept."
The fair-haired woman smiled. "Good. Then let us begin the preparations. We must present you to the High Council."
The field of dandelions disappeared, and Nova found herself in a small room with polished wooden floorboards and whitewashed walls. It was mostly bare, save for a tiny little circular platform that sat in front of a series of three full-length mirrors in one corner; a wide wardrobe that sat in the opposite corner; and a small, white table that sat against one wall with a chair pulled up to it and mirror above it.
The White Lady opened the wardrobe doors, peering inside. She called Nova over. "Let me look at you."
She pulled out different articles of clothing, holding them up near Nova and making little noises of frustration. At last, however, she found something she liked, smiled, and draped the clothing over one of her arms.
"Please take off your clothes, Nova," she requested. "You'll need to change."
Hesitantly, the pink-haired girl obeyed. She stood, shivering, her clothing piled on the floor near her, her arms crossed self-conciously over her chest. The White Lady handed her a white cotton chemise, which Nova pulled over her head gratefully.
Humming softly to herself, the White Lady picked up a plain, pale pink sleeveless dress. She handed it to Nova, who slipped it on, glancing down at herself as the White Lady moved behind her, buttoning up the back. The dress fit snugly over her torso, then fell loosely from her hips. She smiled a little. It was comfy.
Her companion gave her another dress, this one a deep crimson, and Nova got into it with a bit of difficulty. This one had long sleeves that traveled slightly past her wrists over the backs of her hands; they were fitted along her upper arm, then fell away at the elbow and down. At her waist, the red cloth parted and swept away, revealing the pink skirt underneath. The White Lady stood behind her, lacing up the dress from the waistline up to the neckline.
After putting on a pair of simple shoes that matched the second dress in color, Nova let the White Lady usher her over to the little platform with the mirrors. She took in her breath sharply as she caught a glimpse of herself in the glass.
"You look beautiful," the White Lady sighed.
Nova turned to one side, then the other, then turned with her back to mirror and looked over her shoulder at herself. "I... I look so different."
"It becomes you." The White Lady beckoned for her to step down, and she did. The woman in the white dress led her over to the white table, instructing her to sit in the chair.
When Nova had seated herself, the White Lady opened a drawer in the side of the table, revealing a series of brushes, combs, and the like. Nova groaned. The White Lady laughed softly, picking up an ivory brush. "Just sit still, my dear. I'll be gentle."
She was. The White Lady managed, somehow, to work out the tangles in Nova's wild, knee-length hair without causing its owner any pain. She could not, however, tame the energetic waves in it, not even after trying several different combs. "Perhaps it's better that I don't," she said with a smile. "It has character this way."
Once Nova's hair was brushed, the White Lady returned to the wardrobe, pulling out a light mantle made of a darker red than Nova's dress, a near-black color. She set it over Nova's shoulders, tying the string in front. She smiled. "Are you ready to face the High Council?"
Nova fidgeted. She was far from ready. "Um... yeah."
"Then let us go."
Nova hesitated. "Um... could I ask a question first?"
The sad, sapphire eyes smiled back. "Certainly."
"What..." She fumbled over her words nervously. "Um, what should I call you?"
The White Lady smiled gently, grasping Nova's hand in hers. "You may call me by my real name," she murmured. "Call me Emeraude."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
The High Council sat in their respective seats, hoods pulled down over their faces to shadow their features. They all stared toward the main doors, awating what they knew was coming.
At last, the heavy doors creaked open. Emeraude, the White Lady, the Owner of the Light of Emeraude, stepped inside. She glided up the white carpet, a pretty young girl clad in red drifting behind her.
Emeraude nodded to each of the High Council. "I now present to the Council the Lady Nova."
The woman in the white dress swept herself away, taking her seat in the center chair upon the platform. Out of nowhere, two young servants emerged, carrying pillows with delicate articles set upon them. One had the princess's small, simple tiara, which she handed to Emeraude with a deep curtsy. As Emeraude put it on, the second servant approached. She fell to her knees and bowed her head, holding out the soft, plush pillow. Upon it sat the glowing sphere that contained the Light of Emeraude.
Emeraude lifted the little glass sphere in her two small hands; the servant retreated, vanishing. The sad-eyed woman slowly embraced the Light, and it melted into her body, releasing a warmth and radiance that was not present in the past.
The princess sat up a bit straighter now. A calmness seemed to have fallen over the hall.
"Nova," Emeraude said gently, "has been told of the role she is meant to play."
Uncomfortable as she stood before the platform and between the two long tables, Nova shifted her weight between her feet nervously. She glanced at all the Council members --- their faces were shrouded.
"Does she understand it in full?" asked Presea calmly.
"Quite," Emeraude confirmed.
Clef spoke next. "And she has accepted her destiny?"
"Yes." Emeraude's deep marine eyes met Nova's tear-filled blood-red ones. "Nova has agreed to take up my position as the new Owner of the Light.
"And," she continued, "it shall no longer be known as the Light of Emeraude, but now as the Light of Nova."
The pink-haired girl blushed, muttering to herself, "It doesn't sound quite as good."
"My dear, it doesn't matter how it sounds. All that matters is how you handle it."
Nova bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut against tears. Damn, why was she crying? She never cried. "I... I'm..." Internally, she cursed her stammering. "I'm..." Nova drew a deep, slow breath, calming herself and attempting to maintain her pride. "High Council, I'm very frightened."
"That is understandable," Geo replied evenly. "The responsibility you are taking up is no light one." Her was rewarded with a simple nod from Nova.
A deep, soul-shuddering sigh escaped the cranberry-eyed girl. She placed one hand over her chest, longing for the aching emptiness to be there, all the while knowing that it was not and never would be again. She was Nova. Hikaru was Hikaru. They were separate --- they had to be separate - and she would have to be her own person now.
An odd determination began to burn in her heart. Nova snapped her head up, her fiery eyes piercing those of Emeraude. "Tell me what to do."
