Liora sat on the chair, legs dangling. Zirus worked carefully, tending to the scrapes and bruises the bounty hunters had left. For Liora, the physical pain wasn't the worst part. The worst was Eishen's gaze.
There was nothing proud in it. His blue eyes glowed with a cold, disappointed light.
"The city is dangerous—I tell you this every single day, my dear Majesty. Yet it seems the words go in one ear and out the other. So I'm going to do something I never thought I would… I had even blocked this function in my own code. But you need to learn the lesson. I'm sorry… you are grounded. No going out for a full day."
Liora deflated instantly. It felt like the worst punishment in the world. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes filled with tears, and she stared at the floor without a word.
Zirus, finishing the last bandage, raised an eyebrow.
"You're turning into a proper helicopter parent… But I suppose that's what happens when a robot starts picking up human habits. It's good… and also kind of terrifying." She sighed. "Anyway, I've patched her up as best I can, but I fix robots, not organics. For anything worse, take her to a real healer, miss… eeeeh…"
Maven, seated elegantly to the side with her legs crossed, had been watching the scene quietly.
"Maven. Maven of Montenheard. It's an honor to meet you all. And I'm sorry—I had no choice but to bring her here. I don't know the city well, and Liora didn't know any doctors."
Eishen folded his arms and sat slowly.
"Thank you. Our Majesty can be… troublesome."
Maven looked at him, surprised, then offered her own apology.
"No, no—don't thank me. I'm the one who put the child in danger in the first place. Besides… if I'm staying here, it's because on the way back she told me her story. And I want to be part of this family. I have no real goal left, nothing waiting for me anywhere else."
Eishen studied her with curiosity. Maven continued:
"After seeing her magic, I'm certain: she is the best Majesty worth following. Tell me—what do you actually know about magic and spirits?"
Eishen rested his hand against his chin, thoughtful.
"Magic is omnipresent. Some races have far more affinity for it than others. I suspected Liora had some, given her people's reputation, but I never expected her to invoke it so instinctively and powerfully. As for me—if I were charged with concentrated magical energy, I could generate massive destructive output, exactly as the Empire would want. Magic is what the Empire tries hardest to fuse with machinery."
Zirus pulled out a small slate and sketched a lumpy, indistinct shape.
"Yes, magic matters. And just like magic, spirits are everywhere. That's how most people see them: blue, floating wisps."
Maven stood up.
"Normally, elves and dragons have strong natural affinity. For example, I see adorable little forms—not shapeless blobs. They're everywhere. I count three in this room right now. But talking with Liora on the way here… I was stunned. Liora, how do you see the spirits?"
Liora glanced at Zirus's drawing, then shook her head firmly.
"No, spirits aren't all blue. They come in lots of different colors, and some have special auras! They like specific things. For example, the soft pink ones hate cruel people… Their size changes depending on their rank. The big spirit that follows Eishen isn't shapeless at all—it's elegant and magnificent. And there aren't three here. There are six."
Everyone froze at her precision. Maven gave a soft, delighted laugh.
"Liora is far more special than I realized. I would like to teach her magic properly. It can only help her—especially if she's going to keep running into danger."
No one objected. Eishen, intrigued, asked:
"Then it's settled. You are now part of the family, Maven… or rather, Maven Noctaveil. Tell me—what exactly is a great spirit, and why does one follow me?"
Maven thought for a moment, then met his eyes directly.
"Spirits are born from magic. But great spirits are born from someone deeply loved by many. If the spirit is still here, it's because no one can forget that person. You are probably not the only one followed by this same great spirit. It can divide itself, appearing to everyone who truly cherished its origin."
Eishen looked down at his hand. Then he rose slowly and walked to the balcony. He stood there, facing the night.
"So… even after death, you never truly leave me, Mother? I keep wondering whether I'm broken… or exactly what you wanted me to become. In the end, I have no answer… and I'm afraid. Are my emotions real? Or am I simply treating these feelings like another mission parameter? I don't have the framework to process so many variables…"
He fell silent, gaze lost among the stars. Behind him, Liora, Maven, and Zirus watched without speaking. For the first time, Eishen Noctaveil showed fragility—not that of a machine, but that of a son still searching for his place.
At the same moment, deep in the elven forest…
Larra stared at the black spirits swirling around her like living smoke. With a violent gesture she raised her hand; a burst of red-violet light scattered them with a pained hiss, as though they had been scorched.
Her gaze then settled on the surviving members of her former clan. They were suspended in reinforced glass cylinders, serving as living batteries for the Empire's machines. Their mana drained slowly through transparent tubes, converted into pure energy and stored in heavy metallic canisters lined up on the ground. Some elves stared vacantly; others trembled faintly. No screams. Only oppressive silence.
Larra did not flinch.
"Zero… I believe we can move out."
The merciless machine sat on a charred log, staring at its own mechanical hands as though seeing them for the first time.
"I sense it… There is a reflective system inside me, but nothing that prevents mission execution. Do not hinder me, elf. You are merely a tool for the Empire… just like me."
Prince Adrien stepped forward, his black cloak snapping lightly in the cold wind. He placed a hand on Zero's shoulder—almost brotherly, almost mocking.
"Easy, everyone… Let's go. And let's capture our targets."
He smiled—cold, confident.
"For the glory of the Empire."
The mana canisters glowed with icy blue light. Machines hummed to life. Larra clenched her fists. Zero rose slowly, red eyes igniting with mechanical fire.
The hunt resumed.
And somewhere leagues away, in the City of the Alliance, Liora Noctaveil slept peacefully—unaware that her sister and her pursuers drew closer with every passing second.
End of chapter.