Noa, Vionette, Elina, and Lina stood in the center of the room, the glowing runes of the teleportation circle at their feet dimming like dying embers.
They had left the heavy lifting of the new world to others—leaving Lucien to weave the golden threads of Aurelyth's treasury into their own, and leaving the shattered crown of Eryndor for Roswell to piece back together in the quiet wake of their passing.
They pushed open door and stepped into the hallway. The castle felt different now—larger, perhaps, or simply more silent. At the first grand staircase, the group split. Lina and Elina shared a quick, knowing look, a silent agreement to trade formal reports for the comfort of their own corners, and drifted away with a stubborn grace.
Vionette and Noa continued toward her office, their footsteps tapping a rhythmic duet against the polished stone. As they walked, the daylight began to pour through the towering lancet windows in thick, honeyed columns, turning the corridor into a gallery of gold and shadow.
From a nearby crossroad, a figure emerged, her movement as fluid as a mountain stream. Seliora stopped when she noticed them, her expression softening instantly.
She was a vision of quiet, silver-threaded elegance, wearing her signature floor-length white gown. The fabric hugged her waist before flowing gracefully to the floor in soft, swaying layers that whispered against the marble. Silver embroidery traced delicate, labyrinthine patterns along the neckline and sleeves. A simple silver hairpin anchored her hair, highlighting a beauty that felt remarkably refined.
Vionette's reaction was a reflex. Before Noa could even register the change in her posture, she bridged the distance between them and latched onto his left arm with a grip of iron.
She didn't say a word, but she leaned into him, her eyes fixed on her sister as if using him as a living shield against whatever 'royal lecture' might be coming their way.
Noa looked down at her hand, his mouth slightly ajar in a silent protest. He turned his gaze toward the approaching Seliora, a weary sigh escaping him.
Why am I part of the package deal for the scolding?
"I heard the news. You really did win with those numbers."
Seliora came to a halt, a slow, radiant smile spreading across her face—a sunrise that seemed to officially declare the war over.
Noticing the lack of an immediate reprimand, Vionette's posture shifted. She let go of Noa's arm and took a deliberate, feline step forward, tilting her chin up with a proud, sovereign grace. Her crimson eyes shimmered with a mix of fierce triumph and the simple, grounding relief of a child returning to the nest.
"You bet! I told you, didn't I?"
"Yes, yes, you did." Seliora's gaze was brimming with the quiet, overwhelming pride of an older sister who had spent the last week holding her breath. "I've already handled the preliminary reports and notified the citizens. The bells haven't stopped since the first messenger crossed the gates."
"Thank you, sis."
"What surprised me most from the reports, though," Seliora's voice dipped into a tone of genuine awe, "was that there was not one single casualty from our side. Not one."
Hearing the compliment, Vionette's ego flared in the best way possible. She planted a hand on her waist, her smile brightening until it seemed to rival the sunset bleeding through the glass behind her.
"I care abou—"
"But more than that," Seliora interrupted, stepping forward to bridge the final gap.
She pulled Vionette into a sudden, deep press, her administrative mask finally dissolving into the trembling vulnerability of family.
"—I am just happy that you are not injured."
Seliora's eyes fluttered shut, a few stray tears escaping to track down her cheeks as her mouth pulled into a shaky, inward smile. It wasn't the hug of a high official to a General; it was the desperate, grounding embrace of a woman who had spent the last week mourning a sister she wasn't sure would ever come home.
Vionette was taken aback, but she felt the slight tremor in Seliora's hands. While the war had been a foregone conclusion for those who knew Noa's strength, for Seliora, it had been a week of impossible, terrifying silence.
Vionette hugged her back, resting her chin on Seliora's shoulder.
"I'm back, sis. Don't worry."
The sunlight radiated through the corridor, while the birds in the garden trees sang in a rhythmic, joyful choir as if the world were finally breathing again.
But as the warmth of Seliora's heart seeped into her own, Vionette felt that recurring, jagged reminder of the one enemy she couldn't outrun.
I will find a way somehow.
Beyond the borders she had just redrawn, beyond the kings she had just toppled, she was still hunting for a victory that the world wasn't ready to give her—the victory over fate.
Noa, watching from the side, carved a satisfied smile on his face. Seeing the two sisters finally whole again was a better victory than any kingdom he had annexed.
***
Noa opened the door to Vionette's office. With his hands shoved casually in his pockets, he bypassed the formal chair and collapsed onto his favorite chaise lounge. He landed with a heavy thud, head resting on his palms and legs crossed in a lazy, victorious stretch that made the furniture groan.
"…A festival, huh?" He watched Vionette enter the room behind him, her graceful stride barely making a sound on the thick rugs.
Vionette sank into her chair, scanning the mountain of reports Seliora had flawlessly finished while she was away.
Then, pushing the heavy paperwork aside, she pulled a fresh, blank sheet to the center of the desk. With a satisfied hum, she dipped her quill and began writting.
"We have a mountain of tasks before us," she nodded, her eyes fixed on the ink.
Noa watched her for a moment before pulling out his own book—the one that held the soul of Acheron's design—and began filling the blank pages with his own erratic scrawls.
…
The office was quiet, save for the scratching of quills and the distant sound of servants preparing for the upcoming feast. Eventually, Vionette stood up, walking toward Noa with that effortless, captivating gait. Noa caught her movement and set his quill down.
"So, what grand ideas did you write?"
Vionette reached the chaise lounge and knelt, her knees sinking into the plush rug as she leaned over the handle. Her arms framed Noa's head, trapping him in her personal space as she held the paper over his chest and belly.
"This will do," she said with a proud, satisfied smile.
"Holy~ here I thought mine was unreasonable." Noa lifted his eyebrows, genuinely taken aback by the sheer scale of the festivities she'd scrawled out.
He raised his hands, intending to show her his own sketchbook, but the space above him was suddenly vacant. Vionette had already glided to the foot of the chaise lounge.
"Let's see yours then," she murmured.
Without a moment's hesitation, she sat directly down on him, leaning back until she was draped over his chest. Since she was shorter than him, her head rested just below his chin, her legs resting comfortably over his own.
Noa froze, his mouth half-open in a mix of genuine surprise and a flare of joy that made his chest tighten.
"Careful, there's no space for two on this thing," he smirked, his arms wrapping around her waist so she wouldn't fall.
Is she impatient or what?
Vionette scanned the pages of his book, her face transitioning into a deadpan mask of disbelief.
"Is your head entirely filled with food like Elina? Of course we're bringing the delicacies," she said, her eyes flicking upward to meet his. "You don't have to write a thesis on it, Noa."
"I mean…" Noa closed his eyes, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "When my top priority is already right in front of me, I have to find something else to fill the pages with."
"Really~?" Vionette placed a single finger beneath his chin, tilting his face up as she smiled in a satisfied, dangerous way.
"So, what else do we need to prepare?" Noa asked, clearing his throat to get back to the main topic.
"No. We need to go to Aurelyth first and get their ores for it, then get the artisans and cooks from Eryndor. And from there—"
"Yes! The outfits come first!" Noa's voice rose with excitement.
The prospect of the festival's aesthetics was a priority he could get behind; he was already imagining the new styles he could see 'someone' in.
In his enthusiasm, his grip unintentionally tightened around her waist.
"…What are you doing?" Vionette asked, feeling the sudden squeeze.
"I thought you'd like it?" Noa snapped back but decided to go with the flow.
Vionette didn't pull away. Instead, she pressed her cheek against his chest, her eyes closing.
"And what if I do?"
It's warmer than I expected.
She rubbed her cheek against his chest like a pampered cat, savoring the steady, grounding rhythm of his heart.
BOOOOM!
"WHAT THE FUCK!?"
"!!?"
Noa roared, his combat reflexes screaming as the floor beneath them jumped. Vionette's eyes flew open, her pupils shrinking in shock.
A massive explosion had detonated at the far end of the room where her prized bookshelves had once stood. The stone walls were reduced to jagged rubble, smoke billowing into the chamber like a living shroud, and charred pages of history rained down like black snow.
Noa surged to his feet as Vionette scrambled off him, both of them charging toward the gaping hole in the wall, smoke curling around their ankles.
"Who the hell di—" Noa's threat died in his throat.
Through the clearing smoke and the skeletal remains of the wall, two figures stood in the royal garden below them.
"Big sis… I think it misfired."
"I… guess so?"
Lina stood there with a stiff, nervous grin, the corners of her mouth twitching as she held her staff. Beside her, Elina was a statue of terror. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, her mouth a frozen 'O,' and her dragon tail was sticking out behind her as rigid and unmoving as a spear.
Both of them stared back at the duo through the smoking ruins.
***
A few minutes prior,
"Yes, just like that! Cast it like that!" Elina cheered, her voice echoing off the stone.
"Here I go then!" Lina shouted, channeling her Aether into her staff.
They had come here after Elina agreed to help Lina with her fire attribute. Elina had decided to do it after hearing Lina talk about finally going to an academy back when they were in the Map Room in Eryndor
Shrooom!
The fireball streaked across the yard, impacting the target with a satisfying Boom! Lina was a prodigy; after only three attempts, she was casting spells that would take academy students weeks to master.
"Wow… are you a genius?" Elina asked, her chest puffing out with pride. "Of course, it's mostly because I'm such a masterful teacher." She planted her hands on her waist, grinning.
"Is it?" Lina mused, her eyes distant. "It's still nothing compared to the flames you showed me back in Eryndor."
"Well then," Elina's eyes sparked with draconic mischief. "If you want to see real power, I'll enhance it for you. It'll be a little boost."
"Really!?"
"Yes! Now, cast it again. I'll do the rest."
As Lina begun the incantation, Elina reached out, her fingers weaving ancient draconic runes into the gathering Aether.
She had forgotten, just for a second, that Lina was using a standard staff, not a legendary artifact.
"Oh no! I can't handle it!" Lina screamed as the staff began to vibrate so violently it blurred.
SWROOOM!
The resulting spell tore through the air with terrifying velocity, seeking the stone structure above—which happened to be the one room in the castle Noa and Vionette were finally finding a moment of peace in.