She looked back at the walls. 

Architecture and art had become her mental escapes. 

When she lost himself in projects or structures, when she imagined buildings, cities, bridges that defied gravity, her mind was freed from worries. Every detail of a column, of an arch, of a chiseled window, allowed her to isolate herself from that oppressive weight, to find order in the chaos. The precise lines and structural calculations gave her a sense of control that always seemed to elude her in her life.

She wondered which of her parents she had inherited those passions from and smiled unconsciously.

But despite these moments of escape, her mind always returned to the bond that united 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 didn't see. It meant anticipating the consequences of one's own actions and those of others, being aware of the possibilities and dangers. 

That awareness, however, had distanced her from her peers. While the 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 carefree like the others, and this made her, in the eyes of many, distant, perhaps even cold at times. Even inside herself, her soul was full of complex, often conflicting emotions.

Maybe that's why I get along so well with other excluded people... I identify with one of them and I feel at ease.

She wondered if Ien was watching her now. Perhaps the goddess was always there, lurking in her thoughts, ready to intervene if necessary. What would she think of her? Marina often reflected on that question. Her life was a constant search for answers, for a deeper connection with the mother who had created her. 

Had she lived up to the expectations Ien had of her? It was hard to say. 

I wonder if she even thinks I'm special, I'm not his only daughter after all.

Sometimes, her brain offered her no clear answers, only more questions.

At times like this, she felt slike he was walking a thin line between two worlds. On the one hand 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 hand, she would have thrown everything to the wind to realize her desire to simply be herself, a girl with dreams and aspirations, with uncertainties and fears. 

“A teenager…”

What was her place? Was she destined to follow in the footsteps of others before her, to be a beacon in a world of constant turmoil, or could she have chosen a different path? One that would have distanced her from her legacy, perhaps.

It was in those situations that time in the Lilies Park seemed suspended. The days passed faster, yet Marina felt trapped in a sort of stasis that distracted her. 

It had happened to her before.

She wondered, by chance, if Shirei, like her, had felt like a prisoner of a destiny he hadn't chosen. Perhaps, in the shadows, he was seeking an escape from his legacy as a son of Cragar.

Assuming he's his father.

Marina slumped against the pillow, trying to clear her mind. The last thoughts about Shirei continued to haunt her, but somehow, she had to accept that there were no immediate answers. There was no point in continuing to look for clues when she had already analyzed everything she had seen. She had memorized everything in her 'visual records', but the reality was that unless he decided to show up, any search would be a journey into the dark.

She sighed heavily, resigning himself to the fact that, for now, Shirei would remain an unsolved enigma. That thought left her feeling empty, as if her purpose had been taken away from her. 

It was early and the day already seemed directionless. Dalia, her best friend, was probably still asleep. She had a habit of waking up late, leaving Marina alone in the early hours of the morning. The solitude, which usually offered her space to reflect, seemed a little too overwhelming at that moment.

With a start dhe decided to get up. 

She couldn't stay there, locked in the room, trapped in her thoughts. She needed something to comfort her, something familiar and reassuring. 

Nebula, her horse, immediately came to mind. 

In the stables, with her, she could always find some peace. She was the only being who seemed to understand her without the need for words, and that deep bond was often the only refuge in moments of confusion.

Marina quickly straightened her gray sweatshirt and walked out of the house. The cool morning air hit her again, a relief after the stifling heat of her thoughts. 

The Lilies Park had completely abandoned the silence of the early morning. Sunlight filtered through the golden branches of the trees, creating long, sinuous shadows on the path that led to the stables. The garden of white lilies, which Marina had always admired, seemed less bright that morning, perhaps reflecting her gloomy state of mind. 

Even the flower petals, usually glowing with mana, seemed weighed down by the morning dew.

Her pace was slow, punctuated by regular steps on the gravel of the path. The light wind that caressed her face seemed to bring with it a promise of serenity, but Marina couldn't get rid of the knot she felt in her chest. 

Her thoughts inevitably returned to Shirei, to the mystery that continued to gravitate around his figure. 

Lyceum, did you really have to introduce him to me? You know how I am. Now I can't get it out of my head!

But every step she took towards the barn helped clear her mind. She knew that Nebula's calm would bring her back to the present.

After a few minutes, she finally reached the place, an elegant but simple building, built of golden wood and light stone, like other various secondary structures in the park, such as the cabin on the beach. 

She entered, immediately breathing in the familiar smell of fresh hay and animals. She stopped for a moment in the entrance, listening to the delicate sound of hooves scraping the floor and the calm breathing of the horses resting in their stables. She walked between the rows of boxes, until she reached that of Nebula, her rust-colored horse.

As soon as the animal saw her, it raised its head and snorted softly, as if it had recognized her immediately. A small smile made its way onto Marina's lips. 

“Hi, Nebula,” she murmured, finally feeling some peace return to her heart.

Marina watched the thoroughbred, losing herself in the slow movement of his breathing. The animal's deep eyes observed her with a silent calm, almost as if it could understand what she could not express in words. Its coat shone in the morning light, rusty hues framing its powerful muscles. 

Nebula was a majestic horse, a thoroughbred who did not belong to the mortal realm. It was more than just an animal: it was a part of her, a constant companion in a world that often made her feel isolated. The only memory she had decided to take with her upon her departure.

“I wouldn't have abandoned you there for anything in the world.”

Nebula gave a small neigh, as if to greet her. Marina smiled, more out of habit than out of real happiness, and grabbed a brush hanging on the stable wall. She began to rub it over its coat, an automatic and almost ritual gesture. The bristles ran lightly over the horse's shiny hair, and as she performed that repetitive motion, she felt the tension slip away, as if her thoughts could find some sort of momentary peace in that simple affectionate act.

“It's been a strange morning, you know?” She asked her companion rhetorically, as if the horse could really understand. 

“I can't stop thinking about this new guy, where he might have gone and why he disappeared so suddenly.” 

As she spoke, her voice lowered, as if she was confessing that she was on the edge of normal etiquette.

“Maybe it's stupid to worry so much, but I can't help it.”

Nebula seemed to listen to her, her steady breathing and the slight shake of her mane were the only response. Marina continued brushing in silence, finding relief in that calm interaction. Yet, her heart was still restless. Despite the comfort she found in caring for her horse, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen.

Then, like a whisper carried on the wind, something tried to catch her attention. At the edge of the view, among the golden woods that surrounded the park, a sudden glow peeked through the trees. Marina continued brushing without turning around, her heart racing slightly. Among the foliage, an ethereal figure took shape. It was not clearly visible, but it almost seemed like a wolf of light, a transparent and brilliant apparition, moving gracefully through nature. The mana seemed to resonate in Ien's daughter's chest, awakening to a small extent the powers she tended not to use.

Marina's heart began to pound as she tried to imagine what or who might be behind her. 

She wasn't sure what that meant, but she knew it wasn't a coincidence.

Ien. It had to be her mother. 

The goddess of wisdom had sensed her mood and was trying to communicate with her, although not directly. The strange sensation was a mere manifestation of divine power and presence, perhaps a reminder that she was never truly alone, even in moments of doubt.

The apparition vanished just as it had materialized, dissolving into the shadows of the trees, before Marina could decide whether to turn to look at it or not. 

Maybe her mother was watching her. 

Perhaps, in some way, she had always watched over her.

Marina lowered her gaze and continued brushing Nebula, with slow and careful movements. 

“It's probably just what I need,” she whispered to the creature, “To know that my efforts don't go unnoticed.”

Nebula snorted again, as if to confirm her words. That reaction made Marina smile, who clapped her hands and announced:

“Good, girl! It's time I told you about this morning's lesson!”