CH 2: The One Born Beneath The Silent Sky
As Tod arrived at the cliff with Valerica and Pryce, they saw her, the strange girl everyone in the village spoke of.
Isla stood near the very edge of the cliff, utterly still, the wind tugging gently at her white hair. She didn’t seem afraid of falling. Her grey eyes gazed far into the distance, lost somewhere between the horizon and the sky.
“Hey, Isla!” Tod called out eagerly, waving his hands. “You’ve got visitors! They’re the Saints! Awesome, right!?”
Isla slowly turned her head toward them, her expression blank. Her eyes met theirs for only a moment before drifting back to the clouds.
Pryce scratched the back of his head, glancing at Valerica. “Weird kid” he muttered.
Valerica giggled softly. “She’s… different, isn’t she?”
They both approached, the wind carrying the faint scent of desert sand. Pryce crouched down slightly, trying to sound friendlier. “Hey, kid. Come with us. Our boss wants to see you for a bit.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch. “I’ve even got candy. Brought some as gifts.”
Isla didn’t react. She didn’t even glance at the pouch. Her gaze remained on the horizon, unblinking and unreadable.
Pryce sighed. “Ugh… what’s with this kid?” he asked, straightening up with a helpless look.
Tod just shrugged. “That’s just Isla. She’s always like this, like nothing in the world really matters to her.”
“Great…” Pryce muttered, his brow twitching in mild frustration. “Out of all the kids, we get the one who doesn’t even blink.”
Valerica chuckled again, shaking her head. “Be patient, Pryce. Not everyone’s impressed by your candy.”
He shot her a glare, and she only smiled wider.
“Hey, kid, what are you looking at?” Valerica asked with her usual cheerful smile.
“...Sky.” Isla replied softly, lifting her hand and pointing toward the endless blue above, then to the drifting clouds.
Valerica tilted her head, amused. “Hmm… and what’s so interesting about the sky?”
“It’s… unreachable,” Isla said in her calm, distant tone. “I want to touch them… the clouds.” She slowly opened her hand, then closed it again, as if trying to grasp the moving white shapes in the distance.
Valerica chuckled, eyes glimmering with curiosity. “I see… Well then, want to see something even more interesting? Something cool~?”
Without waiting for an answer, she took a graceful stance, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Isla’s gaze didn’t shift; her eyes were still locked on the heavens, her mind wandering somewhere far beyond.
“Saint Swordsmanship: Sky Splitter!” Valerica declared, slashing upward.
A burst of light followed the motion, and a streak of force cut through the air. Isla’s eyes widened for the first time in her life as the clouds above seemed to part, splitting cleanly in two.
“Heehee~ So? What do you—whoa!” Valerica suddenly stumbled as Isla clutched tightly at her waist, her expression still blank but her eyes burning with newfound curiosity.
“Teach me,” Isla said firmly. “How did you do that?”
Valerica froze, blinking. “Aha… hahaha…” She gave an awkward laugh and looked toward Pryce.
Pryce crossed his arms and snorted. “Tch. Don’t look at me, you’re the one who got her interested.”
Valerica sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, alright. For now, could you come with us? Our leader wants to meet you back at the village fountain.”
“Only if you promise to teach me that.” Isla replied flatly.
“S-sure! I promise,” Valerica said with a nervous smile, not entirely sure when she’d ever have the time to fulfill that promise.
Without another word, Isla suddenly turned and began running toward the village.
“Hey, wait up!” Tod shouted, scrambling after her.
Valerica let out a long sigh as Pryce smirked beside her.
“Guess you’ve made yourself a disciple,” he teased.
“Oh, hush, I'm not taking any.” she muttered, shaking her head with a faint smile. Together, they followed after the strange girl who, for the first time, looked alive with purpose.
In the village plaza, Lady Cateleya waited patiently beside the old fountain, her golden staff resting lightly against the stone. But the moment her eyes fell upon the approaching kid, she froze.
Her breath caught in her throat. Even from a distance, she could feel it, an overwhelming presence radiating from the quiet girl. The air around Isla shimmered faintly, her small frame glowing with a soft, pure white light.
It was white mana, a kind of mana so rare that even the Grand Saintess herself had never seen it before.
Although golden mana was known as the mark of the divine, possessed by saints and gods alike, this was different. White mana was not holy in the same way; it was pure, untainted, beyond the spectrum of known mana colors. It did not belong to mortals, nor even to gods.
A mana outside the cycle of existence.
Lady Cateleya trembled. This was not written in any scripture, nor taught by any sage. Only the words of the Prophet had ever hinted at its existence, a prophecy of a child born with the “light untouched by creation.”
And now, standing before her, was that very child.
“...hmm..” Isla came to a stop in front of Cateleya, tilting her head slightly. Her gray eyes met Cateleya’s golden ones, calm and unreadable.
“Lady Cateleya, we brought the girl,” Valerica said, bowing slightly.
Cateleya gave a small nod, her expression unreadable. Slowly, she reached out, resting her hand atop Isla’s head.
The instant her palm touched the girl, her body stiffened. Her pupils constricted. It was as if every breath had been stolen from her lungs. The mana coursing through Isla’s body was unlike anything she had ever felt, ancient, boundless, and defiant.
Cateleya’s holy insight surged, and in that moment, she understood. 'White Mana… not divine like the gods and saints… not mortal… but something born to oppose the heavens themselves.' she taught as Isla's mana is rejecting her powers. Then, her eyes widened further as realization struck. 'This is it. The mana of a God Killer!'
She withdrew her hand slowly, her voice trembling as a faint smile spread across her lips.
“Yes… at last,” she whispered. “The hope we’ve been waiting for.”
“Wait—seriously!? This kid!?” Pryce exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief. “So the old prophet was actually right!?”
Valerica, meanwhile, let out a relieved sigh. Knowing Isla was the one they had been searching for eased the guilt in her chest, at least she wouldn’t have to break her promise to the child.
“Village Elder,” Lady Cateleya said calmly, “we will be taking the girl with us.”
One of the Holy Knights approached and gave a brief report. “Grand Saintess, the goods and supplies have been distributed to the villagers.”
Cateleya nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze never leaving Isla.
The Elder stepped forward, fidgeting uneasily. “I… I have no say in that, Grand Saintess. It’s just…” His voice trailed off, shame clouding his expression. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that his family had forced Isla out of their home, that they’d seen her as a burden, a strange child who brought only trouble back then.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Elder.” Isla said quietly. Her tone was distant, but she bowed with sincerity.
The Elder’s eyes glistened. She was the daughter of his late friend, and though his family had cast her aside, he had always cared for her like his own, even checking on her daily to see if she is okay in the cliff.
“Sorry,” Isla added, frowning slightly. “I won’t be able to bring meat to the village anymore.”
The Elder shook his head quickly, tears threatening to fall. “No, Isla… you’ve done more than enough for us. We’re the ones who should be apologizing. None of us realized how much you’ve been helping, how capable you really are. And still, we turned you away…”
Isla tilted her head slightly, her expression unchanging but her words soft. “It’s fine. Everyone was just hungry.”
The Elder lowered his gaze, overcome with guilt as the girl he once neglected spoke with such quiet understanding.
The Elder, his family, and the other adults in the village froze. Their eyes widened in shock and realization. Isla, the quiet, aloof girl, had understood everything all along.
She wasn’t just strange or detached. She knew the village’s needs, and that was why she always returned with boar meat and fish. She stayed outside the village not out of rebellion, but because she didn’t want to be a burden to anyone.
A heavy silence filled the plaza before soft sobs broke out.
“I-Isla… we were wrong…” one of the Elder’s sons said, his voice trembling. “We thought you were just lazy and strange!”
A woman covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “And yet you still helped us… even after we cast you out…”
“Please, forgive us, Isla!” another villager cried, bowing deeply. “We don’t deserve your kindness!”
Isla blinked, confused.
Isla's dull gray eyes turned to Cateleya, who was gently holding her small hand. “They’re weird.” she said plainly.
Pryce snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. Valerica chuckled outright. “I didn't expect those words from her,” Pryce muttered under his breath.
Lady Cateleya only smiled softly, warmth in her gaze as she looked at Isla. Then, turning to the villagers, she spoke with calm authority.
“Take this as a lesson,” she said. “To always be kind, to see beyond what is strange or different. Perhaps fate brought this child to your village for this very reason… to remind you that the world needs compassion more than ever.” Her words hung in the air, heavy and gentle all at once, then Cateleya and Isla turned to leave, the Holy Knights following close behind. The villagers gathered at the edge of the road, waving and calling out.
“Take care, Isla!” the Elder shouted, voice breaking.
“Come visit us again!” cried another.
Tod ran ahead, waving both arms high. “Isla! Make sure you come back with toys and stories!”
The other children joined in, laughing and cheering. “Yeah! And bring sweets too!” “Don’t forget us, Isla!”
Isla turned slightly, her white hair fluttering in the wind. For the first time, her lips curved into a faint, almost invisible smile. She nodded once, then turned back toward the path ahead—toward the Saints, and toward her destiny.
Thus, the one born beneath the silent sky took her first step toward fate.
