Narisva Starisnova

Narisva Starisnova, also known as the Scourge of Nemesis.

The most powerful first year student of Minafallen and a true enigma. At the age of eighteen, she is said to have killed more than 47,000 Krepsunas.

This earned her the title of Scourge of Nemesis, a title feared both by Krepsunas and beings alike.

Not much is known about her. She is a very beautiful woman with a very cold logic that is so disturbing that one would think that she is a villain. Living in the northern continent of Xypelia, they are warriors who deal with constant battles with the Xypelians, an unknown race in Spheraphase who names the continent after themselves.

And she is twenty three years old, six years older than Vastarael himself.

However, when it comes to height, he easily dominates her. This was proven when the two of them met in front of a park in one of the city's districts.

For the civilians who always wanted to see how handsome the Prince of Anqerise was, they got to see his face for the very first time as he walked onto the streets.

The children playing in the park froze when they saw him. One of the children accidentally kicked a ball that nearly hit his face but he easily caught it without any effort.

"Oh sorry mister! I didn't mean to..."

The boy's voice paused when he saw the man holding the ball on his hands.

He was wearing a black jacket, a white turtleneck and pants with a pair of glasses framing his face. The man knelt on one knee and handed the child the ball. Other children ran towards him, thinking that the boy was in danger.

All of them were speechless by how incredibly handsome the man was. For the girls, they thought that he was a very handsome prince.

Which wasn't far from the truth...

"Here. Be careful where you his the ball next time. You might actually hurt someone."

His smooth voice and ethereal looks made all of them utterly speechless. He carefully handed the ball to the kids before he rose up.

"Thank you... mister..."

"You're welcome. Have fun playing."

As the man left, the kids were left in amazement. The man's features were too good to be true. The human body holding the ball felt like he met a role model.

Their parents, who had been watching from nearby benches, also found themselves drawn to him. The mothers whispered among themselves while the fathers exchanged glances of grudging respect.

Even the tiniest of infants, nestled in strollers, cooed and reached out toward him, captivated by his ethereal presence.

Teenage girls walking along the park's edge stopped in their tracks, their conversations forgotten. The students clutched their books tighter, their cheeks flushing as they watched his every step. His curly white hair, illuminated by the sunlight, gave him an almost angelic glow.

Among them were both humans and elves and for once, they shared the same reaction. The elven women, renowned for their beauty and grace, could only gape at him, their thoughts racing. How could anyone, even among their kind, possess such perfection?

He continued walking, oblivious to the stir he'd caused, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Despite the countless pairs of eyes following his every move, his demeanor remained effortlessly composed.

To the world around him, he was a god walking among mortals, an embodiment of beauty and charm that left everyone in his wake utterly speechless.

Little did he know that with just revealing his face, he already had a lot of admirers and a fan club would be made soon.

"Seriously, Prince of Anqerise, must you cause such a commotion on a peaceful late morning?"

The curt yet melodic voice cut through the low hum of the park as Vastarael turned toward it, startled. His golden eyes widened at the sight of the woman standing before him.

For a moment, he was utterly speechless.

If Elyonari was the embodiment of jovial beauty, radiating warmth and vitality, then Narisva Starisnova was her opposite: a cold, mature beauty who carried herself with a grace that bordered on ethereal.

Her hair was like the night sky itself, a cascade of deep black speckled with shimmering stars.

Today, it was tied into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her delicate face in an almost accidental perfection. Her skin was porcelain pale, untouched by the sun and kissed instead by the icy embrace of the cold of her homeland, making her look like a queen born of frost and starlight.

Her starry eyes locked onto him. Even her gaze felt like it weighed more than mere mortals could bear. She wore a simple white sleeveless summer dress that clung to her figure in all the right ways, flowing gently in the soft breeze.

The simplicity of her attire only emphasized her beauty, as though she didn't need extravagant garments to captivate the world.

"You look stunningly beautiful, Supreme Commander Narisva."

He wasn't lying, and Narisva's face betrayed a flicker of surprise before her expression returned to its usual calm.

"You flatter too easily, Prince Vastarael."

Vastarael took a moment to study her closer, still enchanted by her presence. Her rosy lips looked soft and delicate, the faintest natural red enhancing her icy elegance. The way she held herself was commanding without being overbearing, exuding a quiet confidence that reminded him she was not someone to be trifled with.

He smiled faintly, taking a step toward her.

"And yet it's true. You could make the stars themselves envious."

Narisva arched a brow, her lips curving slightly upward into what could almost be called a smile.

"Careful with those words, Prince. You might accidentally make me believe you."

"Should I say it louder, then?"

For a fleeting moment, her composure cracked and she let out a soft, melodic laugh. It was a sound so rare that Vastarael found himself stunned all over again.

Narisva shook her head, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

"You truly have a way with words, don't you? No wonder half the city is swooning over you."

Vastarael chuckled, gesturing to the streets behind him.

"It's not my fault I'm a walking spectacle. Though I can't imagine you haven't caused your fair share of commotion. You did dress up for our... meeting."

Her expression softened, though her eyes still held their sharpness. She glanced around, noticing the lingering stares of passersby.

"Perhaps. But I don't usually stroll through crowded streets like this. Your popularity is starting to attract quite the audience."

"Let them stare. If I'm to share the spotlight with anyone, I'm glad it's you."

Narisva blinked, caught off guard by the remark and for a brief second, her icy facade seemed to melt. She quickly cleared her throat, straightening her posture.

[Hey, not bad. I didn't know you were a smooth talker.]

He didn't expect to hear Phaenora's voice at all.

'I thought you were too busy reading books in the academy library.'

[I was but... I just couldn't miss this. And I'm glad I left the library and came here.]

"You're too bold, Vastarael," he heard Narisva say.

"Am I?" He asked, tilting his head slightly, his smile never wavering. "Or am I just being honest?"

Narisva's lips parted slightly, as though she were about to deliver one of her signature sharp replies, but she paused when Vastarael chuckled softly.

"Sorry. I'm just surprised. For someone with a title so fearsome that even people whisper it in terror, you're speechless. You really are an enigma."

Her eyes widened, her composed demeanor slipping for the briefest of moments. Narisva was rarely caught off guard, but his words struck a chord she hadn't expected. Her title, her reputation, both were burdens she bore with pride, but hearing Vastarael acknowledge them in such an unexpected way left her momentarily stunned.

She quickly masked her reaction, clearing her throat as her starry eyes flickered away from him.

"And yet it seems the so-called Prince of Beauty can't help but poke fun at me."

"Not at all," he replied smoothly. "It's simply refreshing to see the woman behind the title. And what's with that title?"

"Isn't what they call you nowadays?"

"Seriously, I get too many titles every now and then. I really need to conceal my appearance more. It's becoming a bother."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and Vastarael could tell she wasn't sure how to respond. She chose instead to change the subject.

"Where are we going?" She asked, her voice regaining its usual calm tone.

Vastarael's expression brightened as he gestured toward the city skyline.

"I wanted to take you to the highest spire in the city. From there, you can see everything. The rivers, the mountains, even the neighboring towns if the sky's clear enough. I thought it'd be a sight worth seeing."

Narisva's brow arched and a faint smirk tugged at her lips.

"The highest spire, you say?"

She stepped closer to him, her movements deliberate until she was standing just a breath away. Her hand stretched out toward him, her fingers poised as though offering him a lifeline.

"I have a better way of getting there.vIf you trust me, that is."

Vastarael's gaze flicked from her face to her outstretched hand. He hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to take it. Her fingers were cool against his.

Before he could say another word, a faint shimmer of starlight enveloped them both. Gasps echoed from the crowd gathered on the streets as the two figures dissolved into a cascade of sparkling light, disappearing into thin air.