Sylaphine's Perspective:
1/1/2018 - 12:36 PM
It didn't make sense.
None of it.
My fingers curled against the arm of my throne, nails lightly scraping the golden inlay as I stared at the kneeling man before me. His calmness was unbearable. That expression—so sure, so insolent—only deepened the crack in my composure.
I took a step closer, my wings spreading slightly, their faint hum echoing through the vast chamber.
"What do you gain," I demanded, "by pretending to be under my control?"
Kaiser raised his head, that same cruel smile still carved across his face. "Oh, nothing really," he murmured, standing with a slow, deliberate ease.
"I just like toying with my food."
The words slithered through the air, and I felt heat crawl up my spine. I bit my lip—rage, not embarrassment. My gaze locked onto his, searching, dissecting every twitch, every tone.
What was he after? Why deceive me? Why let the crest bind him only to play this farce?
Then, realization flickered in my mind like a spark.
I closed my eyes, summoning the vision of my fireflies. Their light pulsed through the labyrinth beyond, whispering silent signals of movement. Lucas and Celia—still within the barriers.
Trapped.
I smirked, confidence returning. "It seems," I said coolly, "your companions are still within my layer."
Kaiser tilted his head slightly, amusement curling at the edge of his mouth. "Oh, you think so? Stick around to find out."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're remarkably calm for someone so close to losing everything."
He stepped forward without hesitation—no fear, no restraint—circling me like a predator admiring his hunter.
"Those fireflies of yours," he said, his tone almost gentle, "are very loyal. Networking for information. Quite the intelligent design."
My breath stilled. How does he know? Was it intuition? Or had he seen through the very threads of my magic?
"You better—" I began, but he raised a hand, silencing me.
"Shh." His smirk widened. "Maybe… try looking around your mazes."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked, my voice low and cold.
He met my eyes, mockery gleaming behind those unnaturally calm blue irises. "You don't just see people through your fairies," he said softly, "but through the fireflies scattered inside your labyrinth, don't you?"
My pulse faltered. He shouldn't have known that.
"I could've let that thought wither," he continued, voice lowering almost to a whisper, "but it became obvious. Those artificial fireflies of yours—your creations—shine a bit too bright. Triple the light of a natural one. Quite the giveaway."
I kept my tone steady. "Oh? And what of it?"
He smiled—calm, cutting. "They trust those whose hearts are pure for you. Those who adore you. Love you."
My lips parted, though I masked it quickly with a feigned look of curiosity. Still, the falter was there—he'd seen it.
He took a slow step closer. "Tell me, my lady," he said, voice soft but sharp, "why do you think I confessed my love to you?"
My eyes narrowed. "It was to deceive and distract me, wasn't it? You're no ordinary human—you exploit emotion, twist affection into your weapon."
Kaiser chuckled—a low, amused sound that echoed in the quiet hall. "Oh, that's adorable. But that was only a side goal."
My wings twitched. "Then what was your real goal?"
He looked at me with that maddening calmness. "Did you truly think those confessions were just a game? It was a test. To see if I could trick your fireflies into trusting me."
My heart stopped for a single beat.
That was impossible.
If I recall correctly, Linne once taught him a technique about our fireflies. That they trust those with calm hearts and untainted emotions. But that was only partially true. My fireflies obey my kin—those who love and worship me as their matriarch.
How did he figure it out?
How did he even know they feed me information?
My eyes lingered on him—this false ranker, this man with inhuman precision and a gaze that seemed to see through the very soul.
Ivy hadn't been lying.
He wasn't just playing a role.
He was orchestrating something far greater.
Kaiser's blue eyes caught the emerald shimmer of my wings, reflecting them back at me like mirrors of judgment.
I raised a hand and pointed my finger at him, my patience at its end. "Enough of your insolence. You will tell me how you managed to uncover those secrets."
Kaiser only smiled and lifted his arms in mock surrender. "Ooooh… using magic to smite me again, are we?"
"I won't play your childish games," I said coldly.
"Before you do," he interrupted.
He raised a finger toward me, mimicking my gesture. "Tell me, did you enjoy standing at the center of your own stage—pretending you were the protagonist?"
The audacity of it made my jaw tighten. I gritted my teeth before forcing my composure back into place. "You dare—"
"You've already lost," he said, his tone calm, almost bored.
My eyes narrowed, confusion flickering beneath my anger. "Another desperate attempt to deceive me?"
He laughed softly, the sound dripping with arrogance. "No, Sylaphine. I've toyed with you long enough. Using your own pride against you was… entertaining. Honestly, it was difficult not to laugh earlier."
My glare sharpened. "You mean…?"
"I made you keep me here," he said, his smirk deepening. "So that your pride could 'educate' me. That false sense of control you basked in—it was a leash I handed you myself. You're so obsessed with your image of purity, you can't see the chains it wraps around your logic. I knew the moment I stepped into your palace—you may be older, stronger, wiser… but you're still an open book."
"You speak boldly for a man trapped within my layer," I replied, each word deliberate. "Perhaps watching your companions crushed will remind you of your place."
I snapped my fingers, summoning the vision of my labyrinth—the ever-shifting maze that obeyed only my will. Paths twisted, walls reformed, exits receded deeper and deeper into the void.
"As you can see," I said, voice smooth with satisfaction, "the maze evolves every minute. The exit fades with every shift. Your allies are still—"
My words caught in my throat.
The vision trembled. The labyrinth—my labyrinth—was empty. Every corridor, every chamber. Gone. Only Lily remained, struggling near the starting gate.
My breath faltered. "Where… where did they go?"
Kaiser tilted his head, amusement glinting in those cruel blue eyes.
He smirked. "Looks empty to me."
I close my eyes and reach out with the Nature's Heart, letting the forest of wishes answer me. The world peels back into winter: hard light, gray sky, and snow hush so absolute it makes every footstep sound obscene.
There—over five hundred meters from my labyrinth—Celia and Lucas walk side by side, breath steaming, scarves flapping. Between them, impossible, stands a second Kaiser Everhart: the same lean silhouette, the same spare coat, the same calmness. A pale lantern of fireflies hangs near the exit of my labyrinth, blinking like a false constant.
"Impossible," I whisper.
I open my eyes and find him before me in the white chamber. The chill in my chest claws at my voice. "There cannot be two of you," I say.
"You can't cast, you bled—this is not a simulacrum or some witch's trick. Tell me: who are you?"
His smile widens. Blue eyes grow darker. He spreads his arms, almost casual. "Of course you wouldn't know. That sort of thing… doesn't exist. Not until Elfie made it."
Elfie…? or Elfina. Ivy's muttered a similar name.. The woman who'd shadowed him, the one Ivy said he was a lackey of. But to weave a living doublé without celestial or cursed power—no human should. My mind sorts possibilities too fast to feel comfortable.
"No need to be in a rush."
He steps forward. " It's simple, really. Elemental magic."
I pull back on reflex, closing my posture. "Elemental? Then where did you draw mana from?" My question comes out clipped; I will not give him more room than necessary.
He answers without pretense. "A mana potion." His voice is flat as obsidian.
I stare at my palms. A cloning ritual that evades detection, yet each twin acts and behaves intelligently. A half‑kilometer between them and still they think as one.
Something that can only be imagined in fiction, ridiculous—and yet undeniably real.
Another worry rises like a cold wind: my fireflies. They reported Lucas and Celia still inside the maze a moment ago. Now they show elsewhere. I push the sight again and find a neat lantern of fireflies at the maze's exit—my own wards, clustered where I'd ordered them to avoid the gate when the passages shifted. How did that lantern get there? How did my fireflies leave? Why can't my senses find the true path? The questions stack and point to the same mastermind.
He's been manipulating and controlling my actions since the beginning… and I thought it was all under my grasp.
Kaiser watches me unravel and smiles cruelly. "How I did it is less interesting," he says, voice soft. "I have some questions for you. If you cooperate—"
"I will answer nothing to a manipulator like you!" I snapped, voice low and cold.
He inclines his head, patient as winter. "Then perhaps you'd prefer having some consequences."
"You'll do what?" My jaw tightens.
He looks at me as if naming an insect. "I will ignite your labyrinth," he says plainly. "Slowly. One chamber at a time. Those little fairies of yours will die slow, painful deaths. And you will watch. You will not be able to bring them back."
Ice replaces my breath. "You're lying again..."
His eyes turn murderous. "I killed Ivy. I can kill the rest of your kind."
My mind refuses rash action. This man is a self-engineered weapon wrapped in riddles; he is dangerous, and Ivy's absence is fact.. He knows a way to bypass my authority of revival.
I must stall. I must find a solution then take any actions.
I nod once—small, deliberate—a seal of temporary truce rather than surrender.
He studies my hesitation and smiles as if tasting triumph.
"Good," he says. "Let me warn you first."
I hold his gaze until my throat aches. He's testing me—pushing for fear. I will not flinch without reason.
"If you lie," he said, voice low and exact, "there will be no second chances. Not for them, not for you. One falsehood and the lanterns go dark. Every heart inside that labyrinth will stop, all at once."
My breath hitched on its own accord. "You're extreme," I said, incredulous. "You threaten a massacre at the press of your whim—over questions? That is cruelty."
"Ahahahh…" He laughed—short, dry, almost pleased
"You call it cruelty because you still don't know anything about me," he said. "This topic is personal. Mercy is a luxury I burned years ago. If blood must be shed to reach a truth, then it will be. I have already stained my hands more than enough to bother with counting graves."
The words landed like iron weights. He didn't plead. He didn't even justify. He stated a fact and let it sit between us, absolute as a tombstone.
I felt fury flare—raw and thin—but beneath it I had to control myself.
It was undeniable he knew things most humans shouldn't; threatening the lives of my kin was not a bluff. Ivy's death even with my blessing still haunted the edges of my vision. I can not take this lightly.
"Very well," I said at last, my voice steady though my insides roiled.
"I will answer to the best of my abilities."
He allowed himself a laugh then—longer, quieter, dissolving into something that might once have been a chuckle. "Ah," he breathed, amusement barely contained.
"Ahahah… you amuse me. I have been indulging this softer portion of myself for too long. Today, the hunter returns."
He leaned forward. His eyes—those merciless blue eyes—fixed on me with a vengeful look.
"I know you were involved," he said, almost conversational, as if remarking on the weather. "I know what you did in the past to create the crisis."
My mind stuttered.
What? I thought. I never— My chest contracted. What crisis was he talking about? I've never met him before… The accusation he laid down was specific and small; it required either confession or a cascade of lies.
His tone did not shift, but the air grew colder. "Tell me plainly," he said.
"Did you have a hand in taking Elfie from my life?"