7 The Game

The moment she opened the door, the whole room fell into silence. Ten puffy dresses and extravagant suits converged in the banquet space, and their owners' eyes spilled out malice at the out-of-place commoner. A lady pulled up a peony fan to cover her lips that jerked into a frown.

Mira glanced around without fear, assessing each individual she met eyes with. In the middle of the glorious hall was a head full of golden hair with many nobles surrounding him.

"Who let a beggar come in here?" A woman stepped forward. She had ice blond hair twirled up in a meticulous bun, and her arched eyebrows tightened at the sight of Mira. "Are you lost, girl?"

Like Louis said earlier, only nobles were typically invited to the game.

Mira smiled politely, "No. I apologize for my unconventional dress, but I do have an invitation to the game." Mira slipped in her invitation between two fingers to show the crowd. "It has already been verified by a priest, but feel free to come up and verify yourself."

The blond woman eyed the letter warily. It was below her status to touch a commoner's possession.

"Your Highness?" She looked at the golden-haired man, her eyes dotted with blossomed clouds.

"Let her stay. She can be a foil with the other impostors."

Murmurs entered the crowd at his decision, and Mira squinted to take a better look at the golden-haired man. His sharp eyes were the shade of powder blue instead of sapphire like the 2nd Prince.

"Odd," Mira thought, "Shouldn't all Kimora princes have sapphire eyes?"

The prince faced the group again, his arm raising an alcoholic drink. He smiled, "Let us continue the banquet as it was. Chapelmaster, play the music."

The violinists and pianists started their musical notes again. The instruments whispered ephemeral sounds in their hands and reached each ear as the initially hesitant nobles began to dance. They paired up between themselves, dancing the three fourth steps they were taught since birth.

Meanwhile, Mira decided to go to the food section after most nobles stopped watching her. She walked below a cream chandelier to the red-clothed tables that were filled with untouched pastries.

Each dessert was more glazed than the last, and after not being able to eat for who knows how long, Mira savored the artistically crafted pieces of bread. She sipped the Earl Grey tea without much pretense, finding the teacups too short for her liking.

A few nobles gossiped among themselves at the commoner's lack of etiquette, pushing all that food and tea down her throat. Mira could hear them speak since they weren't private about their views, but such childish acts were too little to garner her attention.

Knock, knock, knock.

A recognizable series of knocks at the door ruptured the flowing instruments and dances into a standstill. Some held their breaths at the identity behind the door.

"May I come in?" An ethereal voice asked. It carried a youthful, sweet tone that could soothe any soul.

"You may," the prince spoke on behalf of the Kimora participants.

The door opened, and each noble gave a deep bow to the owner of the ethereal voice. The person had platinum white hair that stopped at his cheeks, snow-like eyes that curved upwards, and porcelain skin with a tinge of blush. He was dressed in white from top to bottom.

"I am the Scribe of the True Half game," he said. "In modern words, a host, if you may. I have given this speech to every other kingdom but Kimora thus far, so I will cut to the chase so as to not make you all wait any longer."

The Scribe pulled out a hand from his covered sleeve and flicked at his side. Glowing butterflies flew out of the hand, as if they came to birth from thin air. They daintily drifted off across the room, and people stared at them in awe.

"We have revised the rules for this year to accommodate a loophole the kingdoms exploited in the last game," the Scribe smiled from ear to ear. "These butterflies will confirm the legitimacy of the participants here by hovering over one's head. If it glows green, you are safe. If it glows red…" His smile grew even wider. "You will receive the Wrath of God—"

He paused to eye at the crowd, and as if on queue, a burly man gulped down his saliva, but looking around, no one dared to move. They were inert, even as the butterflies drifted towards each of them.

Dainty, paper-thin wings flickered towards each and every person present, and the man's smile widened as he continued, "—Also known as death."

Not a second after he finished the sentence, a loud voice echoed through the silent room.

"Move!!" The burly man shouted, shoving himself against the crowd. Vigilant of his heartbeat's spike, three butterflies shot to target him, their speed quickening to bees.

Three other nobles rapidly followed suit, hustling to exit the room. Mira stuffed another muffin in her mouth as she calmly watched them rush past her. Other than the burly man, the three other nobles dropped dead like flies as butterflies were made red over their heads.

The blond woman gasped at the sight of new corpses. She glanced at the Crown Prince as if to tell him to do something. Yet, his sharp eyes focused on the Scribe without acknowledging the fresh bodies on the floor.

"Now, as the butterflies are glowing your respective colors, I will be going over some information of the game," the Scribe pulled out a paper scroll. "I am the Scribe of God, a loyal servant tasked with helping the proceedings of the True Half game."

"The True Half game is a gift to the people of Syre to find true love and happiness, the core values that our God believes in. The aim of this game is to find your True Half, which all have received a single memory of when you received the invitation."

Mira bit the inside of her cheek. Her receiving half meant trouble.

"Your True Half is not limited to your romantic soulmate, though they tend to be of the majority compared to platonic soulmates. Winning the game will grant you a Holy Blessing that will give you the utmost prosperity and wealth for the rest of your lives."

"It will take place over the course of a year, 365 days, in the four empires of Syre. This does not include days of travel, but it does include days of break," The Scribe said as he whisked the butterflies back into his sleeve. "There are residential castles within the Royal Palaces for the True Half participants to reside in. In each room, you will find a monthly allowance, a rulebook, and a personal servant provided on the behalf of the Church. If you have already brought a servant, you may choose to discharge the servant upon meeting them."

Mira could see how frantic most of the nobles were from the sudden deaths of their friends. They were sweating, trembling, and spacing out; they couldn't hear the Scribe at all.

While she was used to it.

Death, that is.

"There will be multiple rounds throughout the True Half game, with 1-3 different games hosted at each kingdom. At each game, there will be an opportunity to earn Memories in the form of Memory Shards or Memory Pieces. Memory Pieces are easier to gain, but they are usually smaller and they cannot guarantee the presence of your True Half in those gifted memories."

"At any point in the game you decide you know who your True Half is, you and your perceived True Half must make the True Half vow before me. If you're right, you can gain the Holy Blessing without needing to partake in the rest of the game. If you're wrong," the Scribe stared at the unconscious men on the ground, "you die. Quite simple."

All the participants gulped. Sweat came down their foreheads like ghostly tears, while others tried their best to keep calm.

The game's information they were given paled in comparison to the real thing; for these pampered nobles, their class kind's deaths were not a simple pastime. Especially with three freshly dead bodies lying by their side, feelings like guilt and regret quenched their burning throats.

The Scribe, as if not seeing the participants' faces, continued.

"By the end of the game, every participant must make their True Half vow with their perceived soulmate. Abstaining from this vow will result in disqualification. As for rules, there must be no cheating nor killing, and more can be found in the rulebook in your designated room. But when all's said and done," his eyes glowered white, "find your soulmate at all costs."