Who's Lyrasia's Favorite?

Lyrasia had always thought she was prepared for anything. After all, being the best student at the academy and surviving Sir Usario's grueling training sessions had hardened her into someone who could handle any curveball life threw at her. Or so she thought.

Today, she had planned for some quiet, uninterrupted training with Sir Usario. The kind of session where she could work on her technique without being distracted by anything—or anyone. Unfortunately, her "little sister" Ruan had other plans.

"Let's go, big sis!" Ruan cheered, her tiny hands gripping Lyrasia's sleeve like an overzealous barnacle. "I'm coming with you today!"

Lyrasia blinked. "What do you mean, 'coming with me'? This is a training session, not a family picnic!" she protested, trying to suppress a panic attack.

But Ruan was already on her back, acting as if she were a princess being carried in a royal procession, her little legs dangling over Lyrasia's shoulders. "I wanna watch you be awesome, big sis! I want to be strong like you!"

Lyrasia paused. Shouldn't it be heartwarming? A younger sibling looking up to you, wanting to be just like you? Maybe in some other universe, it would be. But in this one, Lyrasia's mind immediately went into damage control mode. There's no way this is going to end well.

"Fine, fine," she sighed, resigning herself to fate. "But no funny business, okay? We're just going to practice, that's all."

It was too late. The moment they arrived at the palace, Lyrasia felt it in the air: the tension. And it wasn't the kind that came from a tough training session. No, this kind of tension was purely emotional.

As they entered the courtyard, Sir Usario was already waiting, looking calm and collected. But then Ruan stepped through the gates, and that was when the trouble started.

Meila, the academy's star student and Lyrasia's self-proclaimed rival, turned with alarming precision, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the newcomer. "Who is that?" she asked, her voice dripping with the kind of curiosity usually reserved for science experiments. "Is she—your sister?"

Lyrasia froze, panic setting in. "Uh, yeah. That's Ruan. My little sister." She tried to make it sound casual, but the suspicion in Meila's eyes made her stomach turn. Why was Meila looking at Ruan like she'd just spotted a rat in the royal garden?

Ruan, oblivious to the mounting tension, bounced up and down with all the enthusiasm of a puppy who'd just seen a squeaky toy. "Hi! I'm Ruan! I'm Lyrasia's little sister! I'm gonna be awesome just like her!"

Meila's eyebrow twitched. "Is that so?" she said in a tone that sent a chill down Lyrasia's spine. Oh no. This was not good.

The two girls stood there, silently sizing each other up like two cats circling a mouse. A silent showdown had begun, and Lyrasia was the unwilling prize.

Before things could escalate, Lyrasia blurted, "Okay, okay, we should focus on training now!"

But it was already too late. The damage was done.

As Sir Usario began their practice, the tension between Meila and Ruan reached new heights. With every move Meila made—every perfect parry and flawless form—Ruan responded in kind, though her responses were a little… less impressive.

"Oh, Lyrasia, you should balance your stance like this," Meila said sweetly, striking a pose that would make any knight jealous. Her eyes remained fixed on Lyrasia, no doubt hoping to impress her with her expertise.

Lyrasia raised her sword, about to adjust her posture, when Ruan suddenly appeared at her side, mimicking the same position. Only it was… well, wrong. So very wrong. Ruan's sword flailed wildly as she wobbled on one foot, her face scrunched up in intense concentration.

"Like this, big sis! I can do it, too! See?!"

Meila's eye twitched. "Lyrasia, this is how you do it," she said, voice dripping with barely concealed annoyance. She shot Ruan a look, but Ruan was too busy "perfecting" her sword play to notice. "Watch closely, and maybe one day you'll learn the real technique."

Lyrasia couldn't help herself. A snicker slipped out before she could stop it. Ruan's antics were completely absurd—but they were also adorable.

Ruan, of course, was not one to back down. "I'm not a baby! I'm just as strong as big sis!" she declared proudly. Then, to demonstrate, she attempted a dramatic sword swing that had no effect other than to send a few nearby leaves flying.

"Stop being ridiculous, kid. You're embarrassing yourself," Meila snapped, her cool composure cracking for just a moment.

But Ruan wasn't finished. "You're just mad that I'm gonna be better than you," she said with a grin that was equal parts mischievous and cute. "Big sis likes me more anyway."

That was the moment Lyrasia knew they had crossed the line into full-blown sibling rivalry territory.

Meila's face flushed with anger. "Oh, really?" she scoffed, her hands clenching around her sword. "We'll see about that."

And just like that, the stage was set for a duel—though not one involving actual weapons or skill. No, this was a battle for Lyrasia's attention, and both girls were going all in.

Lyrasia, sensing the impending disaster, tried to steer the session back on course. But every time Meila demonstrated a technique, Ruan would do something even more ridiculous. If Meila spoke, Ruan countered with an exaggerated remark. It was like being stuck between two walls of sheer, competitive energy, with Lyrasia caught helplessly in the middle.

The training session finally ended, though Lyrasia wasn't sure if any actual training had taken place. They all collapsed into the break room, and Ruan leaned in dramatically, her tiny face full of determination.

"Big sis," she whispered, "I bet I can beat her at sword fighting. I'm gonna be the best!"

Lyrasia shot her a look. "Uh, don't get ahead of yourself, kid. I didn't say you were better than Meila."

Ruan pouted, crossing her arms defiantly. "I'm better than her, though. I know it."

As if on cue, Meila, who had been quietly glaring at them from across the room, stood up with a huff. "I'm going to go sharpen my sword," she muttered darkly, shooting a warning glance at Ruan. "Don't get any funny ideas, kid."

Ruan watched her leave, then turned to Lyrasia, a smug smile spreading across her face. "See? I told you I'm better."

Lyrasia sighed, her headache returning with full force. "You're impossible."

And so the rivalry continued. It wasn't about swordsmanship, technique, or even skill. No, it was a full-on, all-out contest for Lyrasia's attention, and at the moment, Lyrasia wasn't sure if she was going to survive it.

"Just wait," she muttered under her breath. "This is only going to get worse."

Somewhere in the distance, Lyrasia could swear she heard Ruan singing, "I'm the best! I'm the best!" while Meila, still sharpening her sword, wore a look of pure determination.