Cloud Thinking

Chapter 351 Perception (Page 12)

The silver moon, like a hook, hangs high atop the ancient spire of the Abraham Magic Academy.

The academy, quiet in the dead of night, shed the hustle and bustle of the day, leaving only the faint glow of magical plants breathing in the moonlight and the rhythmic footsteps of the night watchmen in the distance.

However, in a corner of the noble dormitory area, another imperial princess, the noble Princess White Rose, Stella, who was studying there, was suffering from insomnia, a rare occurrence.

A strange palpitation gripped her, as if something important was being lost, or as if invisible threads were gently tugging at her soul.

After tossing and turning to no avail, she simply got up, put on a thin robe, and silently walked out of the room, following the familiar path to the rose garden in the northwest corner of the academy.

This rose garden is a special sight within the college; it is not large in scale, but it is exquisitely designed.

Because the late Queen Madeleine had a particular fondness for roses, and it was here that she and Claude met and fell in love, Claude built this place in her memory.

Even in the dead of night, the moonlight and the constant temperature array maintained by magic still allowed many late-blooming or magically grown roses to bloom quietly, filling the air with a cool and rich fragrance.

Stella strolled along the cobblestone path, trying to let the fragrance of flowers dispel the turmoil in her heart.

She had recently heard a lot of astonishing news about the North and about Helia—the new policies, the Academy, and the negotiations with various factions…

Her sister seemed to transform and rise at a dizzying speed, becoming...somewhat unfamiliar.

Although they tried their best to maintain a familiar tone in their correspondence, there was always an indescribable sense of alienation and a certain overly self-assured certainty between the lines.

This is different from the younger sister she remembered, who was resilient but still somewhat naive and occasionally showed signs of confusion.

Just as she stopped in front of a cluster of deep blue magic roses called "The Wanderer's Lament," gazing at the petals that seemed to have been condensed with night dew and starlight, a strange fluctuation suddenly came from the air beside her.

The fluctuation was extremely faint; if Stella hadn't possessed an exceptional talent for magical perception, she would have been almost unable to detect it.

She turned around warily, her fingers instinctively reaching for the short magic wand hidden in her sleeve.

The next second, her azure eyes suddenly widened.

Beside the rose bushes, the air rippled gently like water, and a translucent figure, radiating a faint silvery-white glow, slowly materialized.

The figure was slender, with a somewhat blurry face, as if seen through a layer of flowing mist, but one could roughly make out the appearance of a black-haired girl dressed in simple exotic clothing.

Stella found Holly's modern casual attire quite peculiar.

A soul? A ghost? Or some kind of advanced illusion magic?

Stella instantly entered battle mode, her magic surging within her.

However, just before she was about to question him sharply or cast a dispelling spell, her gaze met the direction of the soul's "face".

Despite the blurred features and illusory form, that feeling...

A profound sense of familiarity, originating from the depths of her blood, from the brief memories of their past companionship, and even more so from something she herself couldn't explain—a sense that transcended time and dimensions—swept over her like a tidal wave.

Her heart pounded in her chest as an absurd, impossible, yet incredibly powerful thought crashed into her mind.

She opened her mouth, her voice dry, trembling with a hesitation she herself couldn't comprehend, and tentatively uttered a name:

"A...Aya?"

The moment she finished speaking, Stella herself was stunned.

Why would she call out her sister's name to a stranger, possibly a ghost?

However, the silvery-white soul trembled violently, as if a boulder had been thrown into a calm lake.

On the illusory face, some emotion seemed to surge intensely, eventually converging into a near-collapse of relaxation and an indescribable sorrow.

“Sister…” A faint, directly resonant voice belonging to Helia, yet tinged with endless weariness, echoed in her mind, “It’s me…”

Stella was struck dumb, gripping her wand tightly and taking a deep breath that caught in her throat.

She took a sudden step forward, but then stopped herself, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Reason told her that this was too absurd, too dangerous, and could be a trap, or some kind of mysterious curse or magic targeting members of the Abrahamic royal family.

But the overwhelming, inexplicable certainty and the piercing pity deep within him overwhelmed everything else.

“My…Aya…” Stella’s voice choked with emotion; she didn’t even know how to describe it. “What happened? How did you become…like this?”

"Where is your body? You... is the person standing in front of me really you, Aya?"

A barrage of questions came out of her mouth as she stared intently at the illusory shadow, afraid it would vanish in the next second.

Her reason told her that her sister, the noble Princess Red Rose of the Empire, should be in the North, leading the revolution she had started, and could not possibly be here, nor would she appear in such a strange manner.

But her intuition told her that this was her sister, her real sister, the sister who had always cherished and protected her.

Under the moonlight and amidst the delicate fragrance of roses, Helia's soul appeared even more fragile.

It seemed to take a great deal of effort for her to regain her composure and begin to recount everything that had happened to Stella in the simplest of terms—

The story revolves around the deadly ambush, the invasion and replacement by "Mirror Image," the wager, the name Iros, and how the other party is now impersonating her, implementing seemingly benevolent yet fundamentally flawed reforms in the North.

She concealed the existence of the Snow Nightingale, only saying that she was able to temporarily search for a trustworthy person in this form by using an ancient soul relic.

"...Therefore, the one who now occupies my body and acts in the name of Princess Helia is a being named 'Iros,' born from the convergence of the will of an ancient god and countless fragments of humanity."

Helia's voice echoed in Stella's mind, filled with deep helplessness and anxiety.

"She's confident no one can see through her, and she made a one-month bet with me. Sister, I need your help. Only by exposing her can I get my body back and reclaim my life."

Stella listened to this unbelievable story, her heart filled with shock like a raging storm.

Every word challenged her understanding, but strangely, she couldn't generate much doubt.

Is it because the feeling of the soul in front of her is too real?

Or was it because she already felt a vague unease about the messages about "Heria" coming from the North?

“But…” Stella forced herself to calm down and thought quickly, “Aya, you want me to expose her? I… I don’t know much about your affairs, your schemes, your secret past.”

“Since Iros was able to deceive Ronnie, Philo, Lydia, and even Marshal Hilda and Lord Brot, she must know your words, actions, and relationships very well.”

"How can I prove she's fake? By gut feeling?"

She wasn't making excuses; she was stating the facts.

They are indeed very close sisters, but unfortunately, they haven't spent enough time together and don't really understand each other.

Helia's soul aura flickered, as if she were giving a wry smile: "I know it's difficult. Iros... she's learned it too well, even in some ways, she 'plays' it more perfectly than I am, and more in line with the expectations of those around her."

"However, I feel... that might be the key to uncovering the truth."

"Lydia, with her keen senses, seemed to have noticed something was wrong, though she couldn't pinpoint the exact reason."

"Sister, your intuition...didn't you recognize me just now?"

Stella pursed her lips.

Yes, that indescribable, soul-stirring sense of familiarity.

Perhaps this is what Iros could not completely replicate?

“Furthermore,” Helia continued, “you don’t need to know all the details to prove the truth. Perhaps… you could try to prove something that only the real Helia knows, something that Iros might misunderstand.”

"Some secrets buried deep in our hearts, insignificant to the big picture, belonging only to you and me."

She paused, as if gathering all her remaining strength, and then her speech quickened slightly: "For example... you actually knew all along that I didn't belong here, didn't you?"

Stella's pupils contracted sharply, as if pierced by a silent thunderclap.

She did know.

This truth is not proven by any one event or conclusive evidence, but rather by countless subtle, unmaskable moments quietly pieced together over countless days and nights spent together.

Although she grew up quietly in a secluded manor outside the palace, isolated from the world for many years, this does not mean that she was ignorant.

On the contrary, she was born intelligent and insightful; she understood many things, but she simply chose to remain silent.

Be a quiet observer, a respectable listener, and an audience member who always offers applause and smiles at the right time.

She had long noticed the "abnormality" about Helia that made her feel out of place in the world around her.

That was a character and style of behavior that was completely different from the descriptions circulating in the court of the former imperial roses as either arrogant or mediocre.

That almost clumsy and domineering sincerity of stubbornly caring for and looking after her "strange" older sister, even at the cost of defying the will of her father and brothers and breaking rigid etiquette.

Even later, when she left the court to study at Abraham College, she secretly learned about Helia's actions and new reputation, which had almost no connection with the "past" Helia...

All the clues, like scattered pearls, were quietly strung together by her with astonishing patience and intuition, pointing to an unbelievable yet incredibly clear conclusion—

The Helia she knew and came into contact with was not the same soul as the "Helia" who once existed in everyone's memory.

Perhaps this is why she was able to accept this "new" sister so naturally and reciprocate with sincerity.

Stella never truly understood why this soul, who had suddenly entered her life, would pour such profound emotions into her without reservation—

It wasn't a responsibility based on blood ties, but a deeper, purer kind of affection and protection that seemed to have transcended the barriers of endless time and space.

She didn't understand the source of this love, but she clearly sensed its reality and intensity.

The only way Stella knew to respond to such a sincere, pure, and selfless emotion was to reciprocate with the same, gradually learned sincerity.

She was also clumsily but firmly learning how to love him.

“She’s too confident. She thinks she’s the one who understands me best in the world, but that’s not true.” Helia’s voice was guiding. “Iros can imitate my behavior and deduce my thoughts, but she may not be able to completely replicate those delicate and contradictory emotions.”

“Especially… this part that belongs only to me, this part that belongs to the ‘me’ standing in front of you.”

Stella's gaze gradually sharpened.

Herria's words pointed her in a direction—instead of directly questioning Herria's official conduct, she should look for discordant "rifts" from a private, emotional, and sisterly perspective.