Until the Sun dies [English Version] [Hiatus]

Chapter 7.1 | Rarama

Rarama exercised perfect control over her body. All her muscles were contracted to make her as immovable as a mountain. Her breathing was perfectly regular.

Inspiration. The blood in the bowl in front of her began to stir, like a tiny scarlet sea.

Expiration. The hemoglobin flew into the air and surrounded the Lympyre with a multitude of droplets.

Inspiration. The red liquid began to spin around her, faster and faster, until it almost formed a cocoon separating her from the rest of the world.

"Excellent!" exclaimed the professor, clapping his hands.

Rarama's concentration shattered, and blood fell to the ground.

"Magnificent! Wonderful!" he continued, using his power to put the hemoglobin back into the container. "What control, at your age! It's impressive! I give you the maximum score. I had never seen that. Pure talent. Well, it doesn't matter, next!"

The girl returned to her desk while another student stepped forward, glaring at her. She ignored him, just as she paid no attention to her classmates who struck her with their eyes for having won the teacher's good graces. It passed over the head of the Lympyre.

Still, she was mentally ruminating. The professor had spoken of « talent ». Maybe he thought he was paying her a compliment, but it had the opposite effect. To speak of « talent » was to denigrate everything Rarama had done to get to this point.

The sleepless nights to practice, over and over again, until her nose bleeds.

The myriad hours of developing and controlling each of her muscles.

The sacrifices made to push her body to its limits, in order to force her power to act to prevent her from dying.

And he dared to sum up all her sufferings in an almost disdainful word. Talent.

As if everything was innate.