There were two kinds of people who approached Xavier L'Amour.
Those who hated him.
And those who wanted something from him.
So far—
no one had truly seen him.
Until Elowen Mireille.
---
The Simulacrum Forest still felt too vast.
Too silent.
Too alive.
Xavier walked without a clear destination.
Or more precisely—
he was walking away from where Caelum was.
Away from reality.
"…Temporal affinity."
He muttered softly.
Even he, who did not understand magic, knew what it meant.
Time.
An element humans should not possess.
And Caelum—
possessed it.
"Heh."
Xavier gave a small smile.
A hollow smile.
"Monster."
"Who?"
The voice came from behind him.
Xavier turned around.
Elowen stood there.
As always—
calm.
Elegant.
And somehow—
she did not seem like she belonged to the same world as this forest.
"Oh. You."
Xavier put his hands in his pockets.
"Nothing."
Elowen looked at him for a few seconds.
As if trying to read something.
"You're lying,"
she said.
Directly.
Without hesitation.
Xavier chuckled.
"Wow. Are you always that honest?"
"No,"
she answered.
"Only when necessary."
Silence for a moment.
The wind blew softly.
Leaves moved.
The world felt normal.
For a moment.
---
"I saw you earlier,"
Elowen said.
Xavier raised an eyebrow.
"Saw me?"
"You almost died."
She said it like a fact.
Not an accusation.
Not a mockery.
A fact.
Xavier shrugged.
"But I didn't die."
"Yes."
Silence.
Elowen stepped closer.
"Weren't you afraid?"
That question—
was strange.
Xavier didn't answer immediately.
Afraid?
He almost died.
Several times.
He should be afraid.
But—
"…Not really."
That was his honest answer.
Elowen did not look surprised.
As if she had already expected it.
"Why?"
Xavier smiled slightly.
Not sure why he was answering honestly.
"Maybe because I always survive."
Silence.
Elowen stared at him.
Deep.
Too deep.
And for the first time—
Xavier felt uncomfortable.
Not because he was scared.
But because—
he felt seen.
Truly seen.
---
"Xavier."
She called his name softly.
"Have you ever thought—"
She stopped.
For a moment.
"What if one day…"
"…you don't survive?"
The world felt silent.
That question—
was simple.
But heavy.
Xavier opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
He had no answer.
Or maybe—
he didn't want one.
---
And at that moment—
something changed.
Elowen turned her head.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"We're not alone."
She whispered.
Xavier tensed.
"What—"
He felt it.
Something.
A presence.
Heavy.
Cold.
Wrong.
From behind the trees—
something appeared.
Not a wolf.
Not a normal monster.
Its body was tall.
Too thin.
Its skin was black like a shadow.
Its face—
did not exist.
Just a blank surface.
A Void Wraith.
A monster that should not exist in this layer.
Xavier did not move.
His body—
refused to move.
His instincts screamed.
Run.
RUN.
But his legs did not listen.
The Void Wraith moved.
Not walking.
Not running.
It—
existed.
Closer.
Closer.
Clo—
Elowen stepped forward.
In front of Xavier.
Her hand rose.
Light appeared.
Soft.
Warm.
But—
strong.
Very strong.
"Lux."
She whispered.
The light changed.
Into a spear.
Made of—
something more than just light.
Light Arcanum.
The Void Wraith stopped.
For the first time—
it hesitated.
Elowen thrust.
Not fast.
Not slow.
But—
certain.
The light pierced the Void Wraith.
Silence.
Then—
the monster disappeared.
Not destroyed.
Not dead.
Erased.
As if the light said:
"You should not exist."
And the world—
agreed.
---
Silence returned.
Elowen lowered her hand.
Her breathing was slightly heavy.
But she was not injured.
She turned around.
Looked at Xavier.
"Are you okay?"
Xavier didn't answer immediately.
He stared at her.
The light from earlier—
still lingered in the air.
"Heh…"
He gave a small laugh.
"Yeah."
Always.
Always okay.
---
But inside him—
something moved again.
Stronger.
Clearer.
For the first time—
his luck did not save him.
Someone else did.
And for some reason—
that felt different.
Uncomfortable.
Unsafe.
And a little—
painful.
---
Elowen smiled slightly.
"Let's go back,"
she said.
Xavier nodded.
And for the first time—
he followed someone.
Instead of walking alone.
---
Far away.
In something that had no form.
No name.
No meaning.
Something—
was still watching.
Not because of his strength.
Not because of his talent.
But because—
a small crack
had finally appeared
inside
his luck.