Arcane Arts Capital, Lokiya.
The magictech lamp on the bedside table emitted a soft orange glow, illuminating the soft, white bed and the faces of the boy and the girl. Enola lay there, propping her chin with her hand, gazing at the sleeping boy's profile on her lap, just as she did every morning.
On ordinary days, Shiayar always carried an air of mystery. Although he was the same age as Enola, his every word and action bore the maturity of an adult. He meticulously planned all their actions and strategies, making it difficult for anyone to see through him.
But the sleeping Shiayar would reveal his childish side.
Like his innocent sleeping face.
Or sometimes, when half-asleep, Shiayar would wrap his arms around her waist.
And then he would mutter absurd sleep talk like, "HEHE, my little Ennie, HEHEHE... my little Ennie," "Ennie, take me away...," or "Ennie, we're going to have an entire basketball team—no, a football team!"
