When they arrived right in front of that enormous, ornate door of the dining hall, Aelrindel stopped his steps. Tapping his staff lightly on the ground, he turned toward Auren.
"Alright," said the old elf in a relaxed tone of voice. "See you around."
These three words rang like an alarm bell in Auren's mind. The idea of facing that enormous, noisy, and unknown world behind the door all alone settled like a massive stone in his stomach. Just as Aelrindel turned his back to leave, Auren lunged forward in panic and gripped the edge of the elf's long robe tightly with his tiny, trembling hands.
Aelrindel stopped where he was. He looked slowly over his shoulder behind him, at the boy who was clinging to his robe with his green eyes wide open. He took a deep, weary breath.
"What more do you want from me, child?" Aelrindel grumbled. He leaned slightly toward Auren with his tall body. "At this rate, you won't even be able to go to the bathroom without someone by your side."
He raised his long index finger and tapped Auren slowly on the forehead, just as he had done in the room earlier. Tap.
Auren flinched and held his forehead but did not let go of the robe; he only shook his head helplessly.
That centuries-old harshness on Aelrindel's face inevitably softened in the face of the boy's trembling state. Leaning on his staff, he let out a deep sigh.
"Look..." he said, adjusting his voice to the most compassionate tone possible. "I am trying to help you. There is nothing bad behind that door. If there were, I would have walked through that door with you, wouldn't I?"
Auren slowly lowered the hand holding his forehead. His fingers gripping the robe loosened at Aelrindel's logical and reassuring words. He nodded slightly, hesitantly.
"Good," said Aelrindel. He reached out with his large, calloused hand and affectionately stroked Auren's gray hair. "Now go inside and find yourself something to eat."
As the old elf turned his back and walked away with heavy steps down the black marble corridor, Auren watched him leave until the very last second. When Aelrindel disappeared from sight, he took a deep breath, grasped the handle of that massive door with both hands, and pushed.
The moment he stepped inside, a massive wave of noise mixed with the smells of warm, fresh bread and roasted meat hit his face. The dining hall was quite literally an enormous place. It was adorned with long, wooden tables, crystal chandeliers, and giant windows. However, the thing that truly caught Auren's attention was the crowd.
It wasn't only filled with children his own age. There were fifteen- or sixteen-year-old youths talking seriously at corner tables, and much younger children running around elsewhere. Everyone was minding their own business, free and cheerful. Yet, this crowd and hum were too much for Auren. Without even daring to approach the counters where food was being served, he took refuge in an empty spot at the very end of one of the long tables by the wall. He had neither a plate nor a tray in front of him; he was just watching his surroundings with his hands clasped on his knees and his head bowed.
Before long, a loud and rude voice echoed right beside his head:
"Hey! This is my spot!"
Auren jumped in his seat and raised his head. Standing before him with a steaming tray of food in his hand was a boy with messy blonde hair and red eyes shining like fire. The boy's posture was careless, and his gaze was impatient and arrogant.
In a panic, Auren tried to leap to his feet, saying, "I-I'm sorry, I'll get up right away," but at that moment, two more people appeared right behind the blonde-haired boy.
"Stop being rude, Flyrion!" said a very calm, elegant, and delicate voice.
The owner of this voice was a girl with whitish hair that faded into mint green at the tips. Her posture was so noble and the expression on her face so intelligent that she stood in complete contrast to Flyrion's boorish attitude.
Right next to her, another girl with flame-red hair and wild, yellow eyes popped out. She had a huge, unstoppable grin on her face. Dropping her tray onto the table with a loud clatter, she looked at Auren excitedly.
"Never mind this idiot!" said the red-haired girl, shoving Flyrion with her elbow. "You're new, aren't you? I've never seen you around here before! Do you know how to hold a sword? Have you ever fought?"
Despite taking an elbow, Flyrion grumbled and placed his tray right across from Auren, practically slamming it onto the table. "Fine, you don't need to get up, stay seated. But you don't even have food, so why are you occupying the table? It's so stupid."
The mint-green-haired girl sighed elegantly and sat down next to Flyrion, diagonally across from Auren. "Please don't mind him," she said in a soft and polite voice. "Sometimes Flyrion can forget what the words coming out of his mouth mean. I'm Nymesia."
Nymesia extended her hand gently toward Auren. Auren softly shook that hand with trembling fingers. "I-I'm... Auren," he murmured.
The red-haired girl threw herself into the empty chair right next to Auren and energetically chimed in. "And I'm Elaris! I'm the best sword user around here. Of course, that blonde head stuffing his face across from you claims otherwise, but I always thrash him in training!"
Flyrion forcefully swallowed the bread in his mouth and fixed his red eyes on Elaris. "Who are you thrashing, huh? If you hadn't tripped and fallen into the mud last time, you would've taken that wooden sword right to the head!"
"I didn't trip, you cheated!" shouted Elaris, her yellow eyes flashing with the desire for battle.
Ignoring this noisy duo, Nymesia turned her intelligent gaze directly to Auren. Looking at the empty space in front of the boy and his timid demeanor, she smiled.
"We're glad to meet you, Auren," said Nymesia, with that mature voice that calmed the atmosphere. "How old are you? When did you get here?"
Auren was left bewildered among these three completely different characters he had encountered for the first time in his life. A battle-crazy red-haired girl, a constantly grumbling rude boy, and a smart, polite girl shining between them.
"I..." Auren gulped, tugging at his t-shirt with his hands. "I'm eleven years old... And... I just got here."
Elaris pounded the table in excitement. "Great! We're around that age too. That means you'll be joining the sword training with us!"
As for Flyrion, he bit into the apple on his tray and shrugged. "He doesn't look much like a warrior to me. Look at him, he looks like he'd blow away if the wind blew."
Even though Auren bowed his head, those dark and bloody thoughts in his mind had begun to dissipate for the first time, thanks to the energy of this bizarre, cheerful, and chaotic table. For the first time, he felt that there truly was nothing bad behind that massive oak door.
As the loud bickering between Elaris and Flyrion continued with crumbs flying over the table and threatening hand gestures thrown in the air, Nymesia let out an elegant sigh. She had grown tired of this endless childish fighting between the two. Grasping her own full tray with both hands, she quietly got up from her seat, walked around the table, and sat directly next to Auren in that empty chair.
Seeing this noble girl sit next to him, Auren flinched slightly and drew his shoulders in a bit more.
Pushing her tray right in between the two of them, Nymesia looked at him with a soft smile. "We can eat together," she said in a polite voice. "There's no need for you to go and wait in line. There probably isn't any food left anyway."
Auren blinked in surprise. "Why wouldn't there be any left? The hall is so big..."
Giggling, Nymesia pointed with her finger to the furthest corner of the hall. When Auren looked in that direction, he saw a rather plump boy who had completely occupied a single table, with a literally sky-high pile of massive empty trays in front of him. The boy was wolfing down the giant piece of drumstick in his hand in one go.
"He..." said Auren, unable to believe his eyes.
"Yes," said Nymesia, trying to suppress her smile. "The kitchen staff hasn't found his limit of being full yet. So, it's best you share with me."
Auren felt his cheeks blush with embarrassment. His stomach was growling with hunger, but partaking in someone else's food made him terribly shy. "B-but you'll go hungry..." he murmured.
"Not at all!" Nymesia insistently pressed a fork into his hand. "Please. I can't finish it all anyway."
Unable to resist the girl's sincere and warm insistence any longer, Auren took the fork and cut off a small piece of meat from the tray. The moment he put the food in his mouth, that deep emptiness in his stomach was filled with a warm feeling. As he shared the same tray with Nymesia, those timid walls in his mind were slowly melting away. The conversation he started hesitantly picked up speed as the minutes passed.
"Where exactly is this place?" Auren asked curiously, his eyes scanning the giant hall. "I mean... there's sunlight, but it's as if the sky is fake. Who gives the training? Can you ever go outside?"
This bombardment of questions caught the attention of Elaris and Flyrion, who were just a short distance away and on the verge of tearing each other's hair out. Both of them instantly stopped fighting and leaned toward the table, toward Auren.
"We don't go outside," said Flyrion with his mouth full. Shrugging, he looked around. "Actually, none of us really know exactly where this place is either."
"Yeah, outside is forbidden!" Elaris chimed in. "There's no door or path to exit from anyway, so where are you going to go?"
Nymesia slowly put down the fork in her hand and leaned a little closer to Auren. She lowered her voice slightly, as if sharing a hidden secret. "Actually... Once, an older girl who attends sword training told me that this place is deep, deep underground, inside a massive cave."
Auren's eyes widened in astonishment. He raised his head and looked up at that bright, warm light. "Inside a cave? But there's a sun above us, a sky..."
"That's exactly why Lady Yuria is an incredible person!" cried Elaris, her eyes shining with pure admiration and stars. "She personally made that fake sun, this giant manor, and that sky above us just for us! So as not to leave us in the dark..."
Even the rude and cranky Flyrion nodded respectfully at these words. With his mouth full of food, he grumbled, "She really is very powerful; I couldn't move out of fear the first time I saw her," with an awe in his voice that he couldn't hide. "Only someone unparalleled like her could build a world like this inside a whole cave."
Taking a delicate sip of her tea, Nymesia turned to Auren and smiled with that mature voice. "This is a sanctuary Lady Yuria built for us, Auren. Luxaris's eyes might be everywhere, but this is the only place where those bad men will never find us. Everyone our age here has their own unique talent or a path they want to learn."
"And our Lady's commanders teach us those paths!" Elaris eagerly interrupted, slapping her hands on the table. "Especially Sister Zirel and Brother Nythar! Brother Nythar is very loud, but the way he swings a sword is unbelievable! And Sister Zirel is like a shadow; you can't even see her walking! I'm going to be just like her one day!"
"Don't forget Master Aelrindel," Nymesia reminded her gently. "He teaches us history, ancient languages, and the foundations of magic."
Flyrion grimaced as he bit the apple in his hand. "Yeah, but it's so boring! He talks constantly. What I'd really like is to learn from Sister Lavinia how she uses those blue flames of hers. But she doesn't usually give us many lessons." Flyrion shrugged. "Besides, even when passing by her, it feels like she's going to freeze us with those icy glares. I guess she doesn't have much tolerance for us."
As Auren sat with Elaris explaining swords on one side, Flyrion constantly biting into something on the other, and Nymesia bringing him peace, he felt that dark burden on his shoulders lighten for the first time in a long while. These children were orphans just like him, but that unshakable admiration and trust they felt for Yuria had made them a giant family. For the first time, he felt that there truly was nothing bad behind that massive oak door.
The panel shifted. Breaking completely away from the noisy, warm, and cheerful atmosphere of the dining hall, the scene became cloaked in the heavy, dim, and ice-cold silence on the top floor of the manor.
Yuria's personal library was filled with the scent of centuries-old parchments and ancient magic inks. Seated in the leather armchair behind her wide desk, Yuria was silently reading a thick, peeling, ancient leather-bound book in her lap. The black-green blindfold rested on her face like an unshakeable wall sealing off the bottomless darkness in her mind from the outside world.
The room's heavy wooden door opened without making the slightest sound. Chief Steward Aldric glided inside with his smooth, ghost-like steps. Taking the porcelain cup and steaming tea from the silver tray in his hand, he placed it on Yuria's desk without producing even a single clinking noise.
Without lifting her head from the lines she was reading, Yuria reached out, elegantly grasped the cup, and took a slow sip of her tea. She didn't say a word. Just as Aldric bowed his head with the same silence and turned toward the door to leave the room, Yuria's flat, emotionless voice cut through the room.
"What is Aelrindel doing?"
Aldric stopped and pivoted gracefully on his heels back toward his Lady. "He went outside, my Lady," he said in a calm voice. "He is going to check the outer protection talismans and seals surrounding the manor."
Yuria quietly closed the thick book in her hand and placed it on the desk. Turning her head slightly, she looked out toward that pale, magical light. The mind behind her black-green blindfold was weaving a web of strategy much deeper than the suffocating darkness outside.
"Tell Nythar and Zirel," said Yuria, each word carrying an ice-cold and definitive tone of command. "Have them prepare. There are a few places I want them to look into and track down."
That professional expression on Aldric's face turned momentarily grave. "For Lady Devranna, ma'am?"
Yuria gave a slight nod of confirmation without turning her head from the window. "Yes. We have to find her before Valerith does. If Valerith captures her, the end of this world will be bloodier than we could even imagine."
Folding his hands in front of him, Aldric frowned slightly. "You mentioned that Valerith would use her like a weapons factory, my Lady. But could an Elder whose powers are currently sealed be such a massive threat to the entire empire?"
Over her shoulders, Yuria slowly turned and looked at Aldric.
"You are underestimating the nature of Devranna's power, Aldric," said Yuria, with that old tension seeping into her voice. "Devranna does not command fire, wind, or time. She tramples the boundaries of death. She resurrects dead bodies and grants them an endless, immortal existence. Her power grows in direct proportion to the number of corpses around her."
Yuria stood up and approached the window a bit more as her black robe swept the floor.
"And look at the world outside right now..." she whispered. "The Luxaris Empire is waging endless bloody wars with rebels, other kingdoms, and the savages on the borderlands. Every single battlefield on earth, every mass grave, every piece of land watered with blood means a gigantic fuel tank for Devranna's power. The ongoing wars right now serve her dark ability the most."
Yuria's hands gripped the cold marble sill of the window.
"Valerith knows this very well. If Valerith finds Devranna, subjugates her, and forces her to use this power on the thousands of dead soldiers on those battlefields... the Luxaris army will cease to be an army composed merely of mortal men. It will turn into an unstoppable Immortal Army that never dies, feels no pain, and resurrects again even if torn to pieces." Yuria slowly shook her head. "That is when even the seals of this sanctuary will not be able to protect us from their wrath. We must find them immediately."
Yuria slowly pulled her hands away from the window's cold marble sill. A faint but equally chilling smile, kneaded with the experience brought by centuries, appeared on her face.
"For Valerith, killing an Heir is far easier than they believe, Aldric," Yuria said, her voice spreading through the room like a dark prophecy. "I can just feel it... I know he has been planning something flawless, weaving a web stitch by stitch for a long, very long time. If Devranna falls into his hands, he will sacrifice an Heir without blinking an eye, just so he can use that power for his own desires."
For the first time, that unshakeable professional mask on Aldric's face cracked. "But my Lady... An Heir dying means the weakening of the seals on all the Elders. Can he risk that?"
That thin smile on Yuria's lips never faded. Her gaze deepened even further toward that dark void at the bottom of the ocean.
"He will," she whispered. "Even if the seals of the others weaken, he will do it. Because his arrogance is always greater than his fear and the chaos he will unleash."