Seraphiel watched Ash with a deeper intensity than before, and as his zafu nudged him toward the center of the stage, she noticed something she'd seen him use once before.
In his hand was a black book adorned with an indescribable symbol.
"His progenitor's artifact?" she asked, as it was the only thing that came to mind.
It carried the same aura she had felt from him as a progenitor, prompting her to raise another brow—he was becoming an even greater mystery.
'So, he's a true progenitor like us... not one of those phonies. But how did he avoid those damned records?' She couldn't wrap her head around it—she knew as much as the oldest beings in this Lower Dimension, those who had lived far longer than before the 21st cycle.
There weren't many left anymore, as most had vanished, seemingly lost to the passing cycles.
Only a few remained, like the Dragon of Chaos, though even his case was different—a truth perhaps known only to Seraphiel and the Elven progenitor.
