After the game, the lake's surface glimmered like melted glass. Elias lifted his robes as he stepped into the shallows, pale skin flashing like porcelain under the sun. Somewhere, unseen, a figure nearly toppled from their perch at the sight.
"Come," he beckoned.
The children hesitated, their eyes darting across the water's ripples as though monsters lurked beneath.
"Don't worry," Elias said, smiling faintly. "I brought extra clothes. And a separate spot for you, Leya."
Ellen dipped a toe cautiously. "Is it… necessary?"
"Yes. You stink," Elias deadpanned.
Ellen's jaw dropped, making Leya burst into laughter. Even Lucien smirked before quickly hiding it.
Then Lucien muttered, "But… I can't. I'm still hurt."
Elias crouched in front of him, eyes calm. "Not anymore." He pulled the boy's arm gently forward. The bandages unwound with a flick of his fingers, falling to the ground like wilted leaves. Underneath—smooth skin. No cut. No bruise.
Lucien blinked hard. "No way. How…?"
Elias tapped his lips with a finger, as though telling a secret. "Magic. Poof."
"Then why even bandage it?" Lucien demanded, his face dumbfounded.
"Oh, that?" Elias stood proudly, hands on hips. "I was just practicing my nursing skills."
The boys stared at him. Elen snorted. Leya muffler her laugh.
While, Lucien exhaled sharply, somewhere between relief and irritation.
---
But the truth of Lucien's wound still lingered in Elias's mind, those from past. He had seen the shallow gash—scratches from rough hands, the kind that came not from accident but from conflict.
The edges of the wound were jagged, as if Lucien had caught the strike while shielding someone else, which Elias could pinpoint.
Wound healed but Scars remained as proof.
Elias hands had trembled just slightly as he healed it.
That fear never showed on his face. But beneath the calm, his heart had hammered.
---
Now, waist-deep in the water, Elias loosened his robe, letting the dappled sunlight fall across his bare shoulders. His skin was smooth, flawless. No scars—despite the countless battles he had endured.
Lucien muttered to Ellen, voice sharp with envy, "Why's his back prettier than my face?"
Ellen smirked. "Even my back is better."
"You dare—" Lucien began, only to be cut off by Elias's even voice, spoken without turning:
"Beauty is useless if you can't read the truth in someone's eyes. That will save your life far more than looks ever could."
The lake stilled. The boys fell silent. And for a moment, even the sunlight seemed to pause.
---
Elias arched a brow, deadpanning, "Both of you, come here. Wash yourselves properly."
The boys startled, then obeyed with more restraint than noise, submerging quickly. Elen emerged sputtering, shaking his wet hair like a dog, while Lucien surfaced more slowly, suppressing the shiver that clung to him.
Elias sighed, steady hands dragging Lucien upright by the collar. "Truly impressive," he said flatly, though his eyes softened at the edges.
Elen forced himself deeper, until the water reached his waist. He froze, fingers tightening around Elias's arm before he caught himself.
Elias shifted closer, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It won't swallow you. Stay by me."
Elen nodded stiffly, pretending he wasn't relieved.
Elias's tone softened but carried weight, the kind that stuck. "You asked me once how to tell if someone means harm. Listen to what they avoid saying. A liar hides silence between words. A friend will never ask you to doubt your worth."
His hand lingered on Elen's shoulder.
"And remember—there's no single truth. Everyone believes themselves right. What matters is this: whose 'right' protects, and whose destroys? That is the difference."
A hush fell. Only the lake moved, lapping gently against their knees.
Elias combed his wet hair back with one hand, droplets sliding down his collarbone. That was when he felt it again—the unmistakable stare drilling holes in his back.
His lips moved faintly, his eyes flicking toward the trees.
'Stop Perv'
The stare didn't waver. If anything, it grew hotter.
---
The stare didn't waver. If anything, it grew hotter. Elias exhaled through his nose, faint amusement tugging his mouth. He tipped his head back, stretching lazily, very aware of the hidden audience who refused to look away.
Then his voice lowered again, almost too soft for the children to catch:
"In a fight, don't waste time asking what's fair. No fight is fair. Ask instead—what keeps you alive, and what lets you protect each other. That is the only right answer."
The boys were quiet, the weight of the words rippling deeper than the water around them.
Ignoring the unseen culprit who clearly wasn't about to behave anytime soon.
---
The Perv… Ahem… Spy's POV:-
Hidden in the crook of a branch, she steadied herself, though her eyes refused to blink. The boy was unfair—utterly unfair. His robe slipped away and suddenly her world narrowed to pale skin and the kind of body sculpted not by vanity but by quiet, merciless discipline.
She pressed her lips together. I shouldn't be staring… I'm on duty. I'm his shadow, not some lovestruck fool.
Her eyes trailed lower. …but who told him to have a back like that?
The lake shimmered, water lapping at his waist, sunlight catching in the droplets that rolled down his chest. The spy's toes curled against the bark. Even the water looks lucky right now… tch, jealous of water.
I've truly lost it—or maybe I lost it long ago.
Elias flicked the water with his toes, cool ripples spreading outward. She tilted her head, utterly fixated. Even his ankles are pretty.
Wait!! What the hell..? Ankles!!!
What's wrong with me?! She clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling the squeak.