Draco leaned back, his expression turning serious as he resumed the conversation they had started before Ais had challenged him.
"As I was saying earlier, Riveria... what do you think your family will do to the place? To the home? No personal effects of Rize-san survived the destruction, except for a few small items I keep with me. I have nothing left of that place but the land itself. I wouldn't want strangers...even well-meaning ones…..rummaging through the ruins. It's essentially a grave."
Riveria opened her mouth to offer a rebuttal...but the words died in her throat as Draco interjected.
"No offense, Riveria," Draco continued, his voice dropping an octave, "but most elves and high-elves aren't exactly known for their tolerance of other races. I've seen how they look at anyone who isn't one of them.' I can only imagine the worst when I think of them visiting a place that was built on the love between different kinds. If you can personally guarantee me they won't do anything weird, disrespectful, or sanctimonious, then I'll consider telling you the location. But until then..."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Riveria looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
She thought of the elven council, of the elders who spent their centuries debating the superiority of their lineage and the sanctity of their woods.
She thought of their coldness toward the 'short-lived' races.
Draco was right.
Even if they went there to honor Rize-san, they would likely spend the entire time 'cleansing' the area of what they perceived as lesser influences.
The frustration of being unable to defend her own people burned in her chest.
"I..."
Before she could finish, a soft moan came from her lap.
Ais stirred, her small hands clutching at Riveria's robes with a desperate, white-knuckled grip.
"Hmm... mama..." Ais whispered.
The word was a fragile thing, loaded with a grief that hadn't yet been processed.
Her eyes remained closed, but her face contorted as if she were facing a storm.
"Shhhhh, you are safe. I am here for you," Riveria cooed, her voice dropping into a melodic lilt. She leaned down, pressing her forehead against the girl's, transferring her calm to the child.
Ais seemed to respond to the touch.
The tension left her frame, her breathing evening out.
Then, with a sudden, sharp jolt, her eyes snapped open.
She sat up so quickly she almost bumped heads with Riveria.
She blinked, her head tilting with a look of confusion as she surveyed the garden.
Eventually, her gaze landed on Draco.
He was leaning back in his chair, watching her with that same unnerving, calm smile.
"Ais, are you okay? Are you feeling better?" Riveria asked, her hand hovering near the girl's shoulder.
Ais didn't answer.
She didn't even look at Riveria.
Her entire world had narrowed down to the man sitting across from her….the man who had swatted her aside like a fly only hours prior.
Draco didn't look away.
He let the silence stretch, testing her resolve.
Finally, he spoke three words that broke the tension like a hammer to glass.
"Want a rematch?"
He saw it immediately….the spark.
The confusion in her eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, burning intensity.
It wasn't hatred; it was something purer.
She had found a wall, and she had decided that she would either climb it or tear it down.
Draco felt a twinge of concern; he knew that once she started pestering him for fights, she wouldn't stop until one of them fell over dead from exhaustion or she fell unconscious.
Thwack!
"Stop ignoring me!" Riveria snapped, her hand coming down on the top of Ais head with a sharp pop.
"Ow!" Ais yelped, finally breaking her stare-down with Draco to clutch her head.
She looked at Riveria with wide, betrayed eyes.
"You just recovered from a beating, and yet here you are, eager for another one," Riveria scolded, her voice rising in pitch.
"Have you no sense of self-preservation? You are a guest in this house, and you will act with the dignity befitting your station!"
Ais looked down at her lap, her shoulders hunched as Riveria launched into a full-scale lecture. Draco watched with amusement, leaning his chin on his hand.
It was rare to see the "Nine Hell" mage lose her cool, but Ais seemed to have a unique talent for it.
When Riveria finally stopped to catch her breath, Draco cleared his throat.
"Ahem. While I would love to beat you to a pulp again, little one, you should first eat your lunch. A warrior is only as good as the fuel in their belly."
Riveria, regaining her composure, nudged the covered plate toward Ais.
"Eat. Now."
Ais didn't argue.
She pulled the plate toward her, though she still glanced at Draco out of the corner of her eye.
"Wait a second," Draco interjected.
He reached out his hand, palm up.
"Let me warm that up for you."
He didn't reach for a staff.
He didn't recite a long, poetic incantation.
He simply breathed.
A faint shimmer of white appeared over the bowl, followed by a soft, misty vapor that smelled of rain, and then a sudden, localized burst of warmth that made the meal hot once more.
It was over in less than twenty seconds.
Ais began to eat, but Riveria stopped.
Her palm halfway to her mouth, her eyes fixed on Draco's hand as if he had just performed a miracle.
"What is it?" Draco asked, noticing the intensity of her gaze.
"How?" Riveria asked, her voice breathless.
"How what?"
"How can you use magic in such a way?" Riveria's voice was no longer that of a guardian or a diplomat; she was a scholar, a seeker of truth.
"No chants. No channeling of magic through a catalyst. It was almost instantaneous, and you blended fire and water elements to regulate the temperature without turning the food into ash or soup. It breaks every law of magic I know. I have been curious since we first met, but I never found the opportunity to ask without being rude."
Draco paused, he looked at Riveria and saw the genuine hunger for knowledge in her eyes.
This wasn't mere curiosity; it was the obsession of a woman who had spent a many decades mastering a craft only to see someone else bypass the fundamental rules of that craft with a flick of the wrist.
He took a moment to choose his words.
He couldn't give her a "half-assed" answer.
She would see through it in a heartbeat.
"Magic, for most people, comes from the blessing known as Falna," Draco began slowly.
"You speak the chant, you follow the rules, and the world responds. For some, a bit of study, repetition, and control can produce multiple effects like your magic."
He paused.
"But for me… it's congenital magic. However, my congenital magic works in a unique way….it's more like a muscle. I don't ask the fire to burn. I simply recognize that the fire is already a part of the world, and I move it. It's not about the words; it's about the will."
Riveria leaned in, her eyes narrowing.
"But congenital magic shouldn't be that strong or fast to cast. I've seen many types of congenital magic back home… the stability… the control required to do that without a chant to focus the mind is…"
She was cut off mid-sentence.
"I know—almost impossible. But it works for me, or more specifically, my race, and to some minor degree for other special people," Draco said, his eyes landing on Ais.
"Others, you say?" Riveria clung to that word, her body subconsciously leaning closer.
"Yeah. To a limited degree. I mean, haven't you noticed that my sister, Vasiliki, can cast her ice magic with no chant—albeit with less potency? She was born with ice congenital magic." Draco replied.
"Are there any limits to what type of congenital magic?" Riveria asked.
"Yes. There are limits. Like I can only use elemental congenital magic, so any experience or training I could pass on is in that area." Draco replied.
"Makes sense. I did notice that you could use many different elements," Riveria muttered, lost in thought.
"So what exactly do you want from me? I don't believe that you would freely answer my questions and lure me in without wanting something." Riveria asked, her expression turning serious.
"Hahaha. Looks like I got caught." Draco chuckled sinisterly, pulling his hair back.
"Just so you know, I won't do anything weird for the knowledge," Riveria said with a frown.
"Weird!" Draco repeated the word, playfully.
"Whatever could you mean!" Draco said.
"Tsk. Dirty-minded kid. I simply meant not doing anything against my principles," Riveria corrected, noticing the weird nuance.
"Whatever you say," Draco replied.
Ais, on the other hand, looked confused as she stared back and forth between them, unable to pick up on what they were discussing.
"Anyway, what do you want?" Riveria asked, getting back to the topic.
"I want you to personally teach my familia mages concurrent chanting," Draco requested.
It was something that had been on his mind for a while—concurrent chanting was a dangerous skill to be learned without expert supervision.
"Is that all?" Riveria asked skeptically.
"Do you not know the value of the knowledge you possess?" Riveria probed.
"I do. That's why the teaching will be limited to you and this little one," Draco said, pointing at Ais.
Ais looked up at the mention of her name, tilted her head in confusion, then resumed eating.
"That makes sense, but the training can't be indefinite. You have to name a specific period of time," Riveria said, entering her negotiation mode.
"Why can't it be? It's not like you don't have various obligations to your familia, meaning you won't always be available—even if I stated a specific period of time. So it's best to leave that unspecified. Just teach them until you feel they can use it safely." Draco said.
Well, I don't know when I'll be leaving the city. But I have to wrap things up within the next few months… Draco mused.
"Although what you say makes sense, it…" Riveria said, but was interrupted by a sudden scream.
Draco's head snapped toward the front gate of the house, his eyes sharpening.
His tail, which had been resting lazily on the grass, twitched with sudden, rigid tension.
"It seems," Draco said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register, "that our afternoon is about to get a lot more interesting. We have guests at the gate."