Auren leaned against the carved window of his room, watching three silhouettes passing through the courtyard of the manor and heading towards the enchanted borders.
Yuria's unwavering, noble stride, Aelrindel's dignified steps, and Lavinia's departure, still grumbling behind them, slowly faded from sight.
The turbulent torrent of emotions inside Auren had still not settled. The world outside was cruel, but he had yet to fully figure out what awaited him inside.
Just then, Nythar entered through the open door, casually leaning his shoulder against the frame and crossing his arms over his chest.
There was that warm, sincere smile on his face again.
"What happened, little warrior?" Nythar teased, a playful tone in his voice.
"Or did you want to go with them?"
Auren turned around, startled. "N-no," he stammered, avoiding eye contact. "Just... I was wondering where they were going."
Nythar chuckled softly and took a step or two into the room. "Aelrindel and Lavinia have a tough task ahead. Keeping up with Lady Yuria is not everyone's cup of tea," Nythar said with a wink.
Then he tilted his head slightly toward the window. "But what about those down below? Since you arrived here, have you never wondered who those children are who occasionally play in the courtyard?"
Auren remained silent, his gaze shifting back to the courtyard. Of course he was curious, but he hadn't dared to ask.
"You should meet them," Nythar continued, softening his tone even further.
"I'm sure you will get along very well. They are all sweet children, at least as much as you are."
Hearing the word "sweet," a sudden light blush spread across Auren's cheeks. He was someone who had tasted Darven's sword and faced the dark soul within him;
being referred to as a "sweet child" both embarrassed him and secretly returned him to his innocent age.
Trying to hide his blushing cheeks, he bowed his head.
"Who are... they?" Auren asked, keeping his voice very thin.
Nythar was just about to open his mouth and answer cheerfully when faint clicking sounds from the corridor cut him off.
Zirel glided into the room carrying a silver food tray—and, as always, a chocolate chip cookie carefully tucked into the corner of the tray.
"Orphans," Zirel said, taking over the answer in Nythar's stead. Her voice was flat and smooth, as always. "They were rescued by our Lady."
Auren swallowed at Zirel's blunt answer. In his mind, Yuria's cold, unwavering, and terrifying silhouette conjured.
"I..." Auren murmured, beginning to fidget with his hands. "I just can't seem to understand if she is a good person. It's so scary... Her eyes are always closed, but she looks as if she sees everything about me. She is so cold."
Zirel gently placed the silver tray on the small wooden table next to Auren's bed.
On her usual marble-like expressionless face, walled with ice, a momentary, incredibly soft, and sincere faint smile appeared, breaking all that coldness.
Even Nythar raised his eyebrows in surprise at Zirel's fleeting change.
Zirel turned toward Auren, and for the first time, her cold voice took on a protective, sisterly tone.
"You don't need to fear her, Auren," Zirel said. "If she were a bad person, rest assured she wouldn't do any of this. She wouldn't have pulled those children out of that fire. She wouldn't have brought you back to life. She doesn't have to look after the servants here, Aldric, or even Nythar and me... But she does."
Zirel's black eyes drifted for a moment toward the fake sky outside the window.
"There are far more terrifying things outside, little warrior. There are monsters who mistake mercy for weakness, who use power only to destroy. My Lady... she is just a bit cold, that's all. Because she carries the weight of a world larger than you can possibly imagine on her shoulders."
Auren slowly sat on the chair next to the silver tray Zirel had left on the wooden table.
The aroma of the warm food rising from the tray touched somewhere in his heart rather than his stomach. His eyes welled up.
That warm smell of bread suddenly brought to mind their old, dilapidated house in the village.
His sister Lysera's smiling face by the hearth, Sira's usual sweet rush, Thalos's reassuring deep voice, and the faces of the innocent people in the village appeared one by one in his mind.
Now they were all reduced to ashes, mingled with the mud of that dark forest.
Auren looked up from his food and stared at Nythar and Zirel standing in the room.
With the innocent helplessness in his eyes, he asked:
"Is Lady Yuria... very strong?"
Nythar straightened up from the doorframe.
The playful and relaxed expression on his face had completely vanished, replaced by deep respect and seriousness.
Letting his arms fall to his sides, he looked at Auren.
"Yes," Nythar said, without the slightest hint of exaggeration in his voice.
"And stronger than you can possibly imagine."
Auren's brows furrowed slightly, his lower lip trembling.
With the pure, simple logic of a child's mind, he asked the question whose answer he could not bear:
"Then... then why didn't she try to save everyone? If she was this strong, why did she let them take my sister? Why did Sira and Thalos die?"
These words instantly made the air inside the room heavy. Auren's voice was filled with heartbreak rather than resentment.
At that moment, Zirel, who always kept her distance and hid her emotions behind a marble mask, moved.
With silent and graceful steps, she came to the side of the chair where Auren sat. She slowly knelt down, bringing their eyes to the same level.
Putting aside all her hesitations, Zirel reached out and took Auren's slightly trembling small hand resting on the table into her palms.
Though her hands looked cold, her touch was incredibly warm. She looked directly into Auren's emerald green eyes with her black, flat eyes.
"We were late, Auren," Zirel said, with a tenderness and sadness in her voice that had never been heard before.
"Believe me... My Lady wanted to save everyone too. By the time we reached that forest, the destruction had already taken place."
Zirel's thumb gently caressed the back of Auren's hand.
"Auren, never forget this," Zirel continued, as if wanting every single word to be etched into the child's mind.
"No matter how strong you are, you cannot reach everything in the world. Lady Yuria is not an all-seeing God who can reach everywhere at the same time. She is also just a human."
Auren swallowed, holding onto Zirel's hands a little tighter as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"You will understand this much better in the future, little warrior," Zirel said with a bitter smile.
"Yes, she is very strong. This power fascinates everyone who looks at it from the outside... Perhaps everyone desires to have that power, thinking of it as a blessing. But too much power... is nothing but a curse for a human."
A deep silence settled over the room. Nythar smiled gently, moved by Zirel's unexpected yet heartfelt speech.
As for Auren, with the warmth of Zirel's hand in his palms and the heavy truths he had heard, he felt for the first time that he was stepping on solid ground in his bottomless void.
They hadn't been saved because fate had beaten them to it. But he was no longer alone.
Auren's emerald green eyes filled with tears from the weight of these words.
His small fingers holding Zirel's hands trembled slightly. He expressed the immense helplessness within him with that innocent, heartbreaking question that only a small child could ask:
"But... will I be able to find my sister? Can I see my brother again?"
Inside Zirel's chest, behind those walls of ice, something broke. The cold-blooded assassin struggled to swallow as she looked at this broken child.
She gripped Auren's hands tighter, reassuringly.
"I promise," Zirel whispered, with an unwavering vow that wiped away all the flatness in her voice.
"We will help you."
These words lightened the tons of weight on Auren's small shoulders, even if only for a moment.
He could not stop the warm tears streaming down his cheeks. As his tears turned into silent sobs, Auren suddenly lunged forward and threw his arms around Zirel's neck, hugging her tightly.
Zirel went rigid instantly. Her body was not accustomed to such a display of affection, to such a pure and innocent touch.
Her hands remained suspended in the air, her black eyes widening in surprise.
Yet, when she felt Auren silently crying against her shoulder and how that small body trembled, Zirel's final resistance broke too.
She slowly lowered her arms that had been suspended in the air and reciprocated, tenderly wrapping them around the child's back and hair.
Standing in the corner of the room, Nythar watched this scene with his arms crossed over his chest, a huge, warm smile on his face.
And outside the room... Aldric, peerless behind the narrow crack of the heavy oak door, watched this newly budding bond with a quiet and pleased smile, contrasting his terrifying facial scars.
Hours Later...
In another corner of the world, deep within a dense and dark forest dominated by giant ancient trees that blocked the sky, three silhouettes were advancing.
Yuria walked at the front with unwavering and silent steps, while Aelrindel kept a watchful eye on the surroundings right behind her.
At the very back of the group, Lavinia's endless complaints disrupted the silence of the forest.
"No, I seriously don't understand," Lavinia complained, disgustedly shaking off the mud clinging to her boots.
"When we could fly with magic, or open a portal and go instantly, why do we have to walk in this damp, accursed forest for hours? I can't feel my legs, Aelrindel! Not to mention the bugs crawling into my hair!"
Aelrindel shook his head as he continued to walk, striking his staff against the ground.
"Laziness will be the end of you one day, Lavinia. You know very well that our Lady travels in secret and that we cannot leave a mana trace in the air. So stop whining and pay attention to your surroundings."
"Pay attention to my surroundings? There is nothing here but trees and annoying mosquitoes!" Lavinia rolled her eyes and sighed.
"I think we should rest. At least for a half hour—"
"Stop the arguing," Yuria cut in suddenly. Her voice rang through the forest like a sword.
She stopped her steps, her face covered by the black-green blindfold turned towards the dark depths of the forest. "We are here."
Hearing this word, Lavinia instantly let out a deep "Oh!"
and immediately collapsed at the base of a thick-trunked tree nearby, closing her eyes and already going into rest mode.
Aelrindel, however, looked around suspiciously.
There was no structure, no camp, nor any trace. "My Lady..." he said, clutching his staff tightly.
"Why have we come to an ordinary forest? There is no one here."
Yuria, her venom-green hair spilling over her shoulders and fluttering slightly in the wind, said in a calm and authoritative voice, "Be patient."
"This is not a destination. It is merely a meeting point."
As soon as Yuria's words ended, the heavy silence of the forest suddenly changed.
First, the wind died down. Then, within the massive shadows of the trees, dark silhouettes moving at an incredible speed that the human eye could not catch began to appear.
One, three, five... Within seconds, they were completely surrounded. They stood on tree branches, behind bushes, right in the heart of the shadows.
Not a single sound, a single breath, or even a heartbeat could be heard from any of them.
An ordinary forest had turned into a deadly trap within seconds.
Aelrindel's eyes narrowed instantly, the emerald crystal at the tip of his staff beginning to glow with deadly magic.
As for Lavinia, who had been resting at the base of the tree, she had cast aside that lazy, whiny girl in a matter of seconds.
When she opened her eyes, her ocean-blue irises gleamed with the coldness of a predator preparing to tear its prey apart.
She stood up instantly, blue flames already starting to dance at her fingertips.
"My Lady..." Lavinia said, with no trace of her previous exhaustion in her voice.
There was only pure, bloodthirsty seriousness. "Shall I clear them all out?"
Yuria raised her hand slightly.
Her face beneath the blindfold was completely expressionless.
"No," Yuria commanded. "Wait, Lavinia."
Lavinia reluctantly suppressed her flames but did not take her eyes off the shadows.
From among the dark silhouettes, someone stepping out from the shadow of the trees walked forward.
He wore special assassin attire that clung to his body without restricting movement, as dark as the night. His face was completely covered by a black, patternless mask.
His steps were so light that they did not even make a sound on the dry leaves.
The silhouette approached within a few steps of Yuria.
Then, showing no sign of hostility, he knelt down with incredible obedience and bowed his head respectfully.
A muffled but highly respectful voice coming from behind the mask broke the silence of the forest:
"My Lady..." said the dark figure.
"We received your letter. Our master Eldrian... is expecting you."