A tall figure approached from ahead.
Her long emerald hair flowed with each step like a stream of liquid jade, sunlight scattering across it in countless glimmering fragments.
Almost instinctively, Isis turned to look—and the moment he saw her face clearly, he forgot to breathe.
Not because of any overwhelming pressure, but because of the smile on her face.
It was the kind of unguarded, gentle warmth that only family could show.
And then there was her beauty—so exquisite that even the gods would be envious.
"Isis."
Her voice was soft and clear, light as the wind.
"It's been a long time. You've grown quite a bit taller."
Riveria Ljos Alf stopped three paces away and tilted her head slightly as she looked him over, her emerald eyes reflecting the boy's figure.
"It's been a long time, Auntie."
Isis pressed his lips together, then, as if finally confirming that the person before him was not an illusion, broke into an open, defenseless smile.
"But Auntie, you're still just as beautiful as ever. Exactly the same as in my dreams."
Riveria froze for a moment.
She remembered the second time she had returned home. Isis had only been four then. She had stayed for more than a month, and that little child had followed after her the entire time, calling her "Auntie, Auntie."
Eight years had passed. She had assumed his impression of her would have long since blurred.
Though for elves, eight years could feel like eight months, for Isis it had been a true and full eight years.
And yet he had said he had seen her in his dreams.
Riveria lowered her lashes, the curve of her lips deepening a little more than before, then reached out and lightly flicked him on the forehead.
"Such a sweet talker. Just like your mother."
Those four words were spoken so softly that they were nearly swallowed by the wind crossing the front courtyard, but Isis heard them clearly.
There was longing in his aunt's voice.
Though she had only met this nephew of hers a few times, the bond of blood ran deep.
And beyond that, there was also simple affection by extension.
Riveria might have despised the life and rules of the royal family, but her relationship with her elder sister had always been exceptionally close.
Even after leaving Alf Forest, they had remained in contact through letters. That bond had never faded.
The first time Riveria returned to the forest after leaving was when Isis was born. That alone showed how much she valued this family tie.
So of course she loved Isis for his mother's sake as well. And with how obedient and sweet-tongued he was, there was no reason for Riveria not to dote on him.
"You didn't run into any danger on the way, did you?"
"Honestly… wouldn't it have been better to travel with a merchant caravan? You really insisted on wandering all the way here by yourself."
Riveria asked in concern first, then gently knocked him on the head in mild reproach.
When she had first received her sister's letter, she had actually planned to send someone to escort Isis to Orario.
The road from Alf Forest was not especially far, but it certainly was not close either. And Isis was only twelve. Having someone accompany him would have been the safest option.
But by the time the letter arrived, Isis had already begun his journey.
And his reason for refusing both the caravan and an escort had been very simple: he wanted to see the scenery along the way and experience things for himself.
It was the sort of reason that was hard to reject. Children had to grow up someday, after all.
So in the end, after enough pleading from Isis, his mother had agreed to this "absurdly dangerous" request.
Quietly using magic to probe his condition and confirm that he was unharmed, Riveria finally relaxed a little.
"I didn't run into any danger. See? I'm perfectly fine."
"I just wanted to enjoy the scenery along the way."
Isis spread his arms as if presenting himself for inspection.
Seeing him act so clownish on purpose, Riveria smiled helplessly and only tapped him lightly on the head once more.
"Now that your mother has entrusted you to my care, I can't let you do as you please the way you did at home."
Riveria's tone turned into a gentle warning, making it clear that this was Orario now, not Alf Forest.
There were rules here—many of them. He could no longer act however he pleased as before.
"I would brave fire and flood for you, Auntie."
With a solemn expression, Isis placed one hand over his chest and performed a formal elven salute—his posture so perfect it looked as though he were swearing fealty before a royal throne.
Riveria could not help but laugh at how serious he looked.
Naturally, Isis understood that once he had left home, no one would indulge him anymore. So he had already resolved himself to cling tightly to his aunt's thigh, figuratively speaking.
All he could say was…
Having connections really was amazing.
For the first time, Isis truly understood how wonderful it felt to be related to the right person.
"Hey… Riveria, did your family mix something downright unfair into your bloodline?"
A voice came from diagonally behind them, carrying a lazy tone that made it impossible to tell whether the speaker was complimenting or mocking them.
Isis turned to look.
A crimson figure came sauntering over with half a grilled meat skewer hanging from her mouth, her ponytail swaying left and right with her carefree stride.
Crimson hair. Crimson eyes. A short-sleeved top worn half open, paired with jeans—she looked like she had just wandered out of some back-alley tavern.
Tilting her head, she openly swept her gaze across Isis's face several times without the slightest restraint, appraising him the way a merchant might inspect a newly unearthed antique.
"Hm…"
She pulled the skewer from her mouth and pointed it toward Isis in the air.
"The eyebrows look alike, the nose too, and even the line of the chin matches. Riveria, is this really your nephew? Not some kid you secretly raised yourself?"
At Loki's behavior, Riveria merely shook her head helplessly and chose to ignore the last remark entirely.
"Loki, let me introduce you. This is my elder sister's child—my nephew, Isis."
Her smile faded slightly as she made the introduction.
Then she turned to Isis.
"Isis, this is Loki, the patron deity of our Familia."
A trace of surprise immediately appeared on Isis's face. Clearly, he had not expected that this woman—so casual and street-ruffian-like in appearance—was actually Loki, the patron god of one of Orario's Twin Kings.
You really couldn't judge a person… no, a god by appearances.
He quickly withdrew his scrutinizing gaze, replacing it with respect and courtesy, and gave a proper greeting.
"My respects, Lady Loki."
It was only the most basic courtesy.
Not to mention that she was a god—and the very patron deity of the Familia he would soon be joining. Isis naturally treated her with due respect.
"Aw, don't be so tense and serious."
"But seriously, kid, you really are ridiculously good-looking. Your brows, your eyes, that face… there's definitely a resemblance to Riveria."
"If you told people you were Riveria's son, plenty of them would probably believe it. And if that happened, the nickname 'Mama-san' would really stick for good."
Loki stepped forward and patted Isis on the shoulder, as casual as ever while he stood there wearing a trace of nervous reverence.
The final syllable of her teasing never got the chance to come out.
All Isis saw was a flash of emerald light.
Riveria's staff moved so fast it left only an afterimage, followed by a crisp, heavy thud that allowed no room for negotiation.
Thunk.
Loki's head visibly dropped.
Riveria lowered her staff and said nothing, her face expressionless.
But the fingers gripping the staff had turned faintly white.
"Loki."
Her voice was calm—so calm it sounded like the last sliver of clear sky before a storm.
"No alcohol for you this month."
"No! Ya-me-ro!"
Loki immediately squatted down on the spot with both hands over her head, her crimson ponytail drooping as the majestic aura of a god who judged all things shattered into pieces.
"I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong, Riveria! It was just a joke! Half a month! Cut me a deal! At least leave me some dignity in front of your nephew!"
"This is me leaving you dignity."
Standing nearby, Isis's mouth twitched.
He looked at Loki squatting on the ground and yelping—the patron god of one of Orario's Twin Kings, the deity of the strongest Familia.
Then he looked at Riveria, calmly withdrawing her staff and standing there without the slightest change in expression—his aunt.
A ridiculous thought rose in his mind.
Had he somehow mistaken who the real boss of this Familia was?
Seeing the stunned look on Isis's face, Riveria reined in her emotions and rubbed her forehead helplessly.
In front of Isis, she still had to maintain her image as a proper aunt.
But Loki really was asking for a beating…
That said, once Isis joined the Familia, he would get used to this soon enough. So Riveria offered no further explanation.
"Come. We'll head back to the Familia first, and then Loki will grant you Falna."
"O-Okay…"
And just like that, Isis, still half-dazed, was led away by Riveria's hand toward the Loki Familia's home, with Loki trailing beside them, constantly apologizing and trying to placate her.
Seriously…
Which one of them was actually the patron god here?