As Aeren returned to human nature, he began experiencing all the emotions he had forgotten. The moment these feelings flooded back, frustration overwhelmed him—he had become unaccustomed to the burden of human sentiment.
Aeren felt strange about the emotions stirring within him as his heart began beating faster and faster with each passing moment. There was nothing he could do to control his racing pulse.
He started changing and becoming increasingly confused about his identity as he observed these transformations within himself.
Aeren fell silent, barely knowing what to say now. His heart pounded relentlessly while Nil held him tighter and tighter. She could hear his heartbeat clearly—a sound that felt foreign to her. Previously, she had sensed that his heart had stopped beating entirely, but now she could distinctly hear it pulsing with life.
"Nil, release me—you're suffocating me," Aeren spoke to her, but this time without the cold, emotionless tone or false politeness she had heard countless times before.
Nil smiled and released him, looking into his face to see a different Aeren—one who appeared subtly changed. She could detect slight shyness in his expression, so faint she could barely discern it, but she recognized that he felt embarrassed about the situation. This realization made her smile widen.
"Oh, Aeren. You don't need to be shy. We've shared everything together," Nil explained with a gentle smile, noticing even more bashfulness cross his features before it quickly vanished.
"Yes, you're right," Aeren replied, and calmness returned to him as though he had changed momentarily before reverting to himself again. However, this tranquility differed from the serenity he had possessed when he existed beyond humanity.
Nil observed Aeren's composure, and her smile faded as irritation crept in—she felt frustrated that she had reminded him of their shared past.
While she pondered this situation, someone knocked at the door. Both Aeren and Nil's attention shifted toward the entrance as Nil composed her emotions and Aeren adopted a more calm and serious demeanor.
"Come in," Aeren spoke with measured calm, though his voice carried enough authority to reach beyond the door. The door opened, and an elderly butler entered the room.
The old man surveyed the situation with confusion, unable to identify who they were. However, he had been informed that these were important guests whom he must serve with utmost dedication.
Standing near the door, the old man bowed respectfully. "My lord and lady, do you have any requests for me? I was commanded by the guild master to do my utmost to satisfy your needs."
Both Aeren and Nil regarded the old man with bewilderment, observing his white beard and hair—an extraordinarily rare sight in this world. No one here aged and died with elderly appearances due to magic's influence, which made Aeren particularly curious about him.
"State your name," Aeren requested.
The old man raised his head from his bow and looked at Aeren, still unable to recognize him. Nevertheless, he had been ordered to satisfy their requests, so he couldn't disappoint them and would serve to the best of his ability.
"My apologies—I am called Morkel," he introduced himself politely while observing them carefully.
Aeren watched him silently, contemplating his circumstances. How could someone become aged in this world? I understand aging conceptually because I've witnessed elderly people before, but in this realm, there's no natural aging process. People might grow older through magical depletion, but their magic ages—not their physical forms.
Aeren could no longer suppress his curiosity, and without his former abilities to read people's, this fascination began consuming him. Yet since aging concepts didn't exist here naturally, he doubted the old man Morkel would have answers.
"Clean this entire space and arrange everything to look more presentable," Nil commanded the old man as Aeren's curiosity continued gnawing at him internally.
Aeren turned toward Nil and noticed the same curiosity reflected in her eyes, though she handled it more skillfully. When his gaze returned to the old man, his inquisitiveness became unmanageable.
Morkel looked from Aeren to Nil, heard her command, and bowed. "Yes, leave all cleaning and arrangement matters to me. You two may enjoy the outside view while I prepare everything."
He spoke with polite respect evident in his bearing. Morkel had expected to be asked for something inappropriate, but her request seemed perfectly normal.
"Oh, I'm meeting with someone—arrange this like a conference room with soundproofing," Nil provided her final specifications and rose from her seat.
Meanwhile, Aeren's eyes remained fixed on the old man's face, desperate to understand this anomaly he had never encountered in this world.
His curiosity devoured him from within while Nil and Morkel conversed, but his focus remained locked on the man's white hair, beard, and wrinkles covering his entire body.
As he continued staring, his curiosity finally broke free. "Morkel, did your magic abandon you?" Aeren asked, and both Nil and Morkel fell silent.
Morkel was shocked by Aeren's insight—he had never imagined anyone could discover that he couldn't use magic. He began trembling as he met Aeren's penetrating gaze.
How is this possible? How could anyone determine that I possess no magic? Even others who can sense magical abilities assume that if they cannot detect someone's power, that person must be tremendously powerful—beyond their perception. But he saw through me completely.
As these thoughts raced through Morkel's mind while he stared at Aeren, he could barely remain standing and wanted to kneel in supplication. However, he controlled his instinct to beg and stood proudly, meeting their gaze directly.
"My lord, you have an excellent eye. But I wasn't abandoned by magic—someone stole it from me, and I was still able to kill him," Morkel spoke with confidence, thinking: I barely survived that encounter. I begged him to let me live, so he told me that if I gave him my magic, he would spare me. I agreed happily, but afterward, my body began changing into this form. I don't care about mere physical transformation.
Morkel lied to them but showed no deception on his face as he studied both Aeren and Nil. He could see awe in their expressions, which made him smile internally while maintaining his external composure.
"I killed him, but I never recovered my magic," Morkel displayed sadness and even produced a small tear, thinking this performance should suffice.
As he watched Aeren and Nil, he could no longer perceive them clearly. They had transformed into cold, calculating beings the moment he finished his fabricated story.
Aeren observed him and began thinking: Does this mean he lost his fate and became a fateless person? But he's too weak—just an ordinary human with limited time remaining. If someone granted him magic, would that create fate strings for him? No one here possesses the power of creation except Nil. Because of her dark and light spirits, she can create anything she desires.
Let's conduct a new experiment on him and see if Nil could control his strings.
With this thought, Aeren turned toward Nil. She was watching Morkel with pity, which confirmed that she wanted to help him.
"Do you want magic?" Aeren's voice echoed throughout the room, and Morkel's head snapped toward him in shock. He could barely believe his ears—what had he just heard from Aeren? He couldn't trust his hearing anymore and locked his eyes on Aeren.
He wanted to say yes, but he couldn't determine whether he had heard correctly.