By the time they reached the mansion, the sun had begun its slow descent.
The estate loomed behind wide iron gates— climbing along the stone walls, high windows catching the light. It was not too extravagant, but noble in its bearing.
The courtyard was big and wide, edged with neat hedges and a fountain whose water sparkled faintly in the afternoon glow.
Servants poured out at once.
"Master Elias has returned!"
Elias and the children returned to the mansion after wandering the market and eating too many things. Lucian, worn out, had fallen asleep in Elias's lap. Carrying him carefully, Elias held the twins close as well.
The mansion looked like something out of a fairy tale—the garden blooming, the tall white walls glowing in the evening light, everything around them whispering welcome.
"Is it true?" Elen asked softly, eyes wide.
"I don't know…" Leya replied, though her voice trembled with hope.
Elias looked at them and smiled, calm and steady. "Oh… it's true after all," he said. Somehow, the quiet certainty in his tone made both twins breathe easier.
The knights moved ahead, opening the gates without a word. As soon as Elias stepped forward, they bowed deeply, as if his very presence pressed them down. The air inside was sweet with flowers, warm with the smell of home.
Elias walked slowly, his clothes tugged on by the twins from either side, while Lucian's small hand clenched weakly at his shirt. He glanced down and murmured in his calm voice, "You'll be a normal child soon… walking with no worries."
The twins turned to him at that, but he only smiled back.
At the steps stood the butler and his wife, waiting like statues. The moment they saw him, they moved as though they had been standing there for hours. The butler bowed deeply.
"Welcome back, master. We have waited for you a long time."
Behind him, maids came running. Gardeners, cooks, even the smith—everyone dropped their work and came, bowing deeply, smiles breaking across their faces. The sight was overwhelming, so warm it almost felt heavy.
But Elias stayed perfectly calm. "It's alright. This is normal," he said, and that simple assurance eased the children's racing hearts.
The butler's wife couldn't keep up her dignity for long. Skirts rustling, she ran to him like a mother to her child. Though he wasn't truly hers, it never mattered—love born from the heart always outweighed blood. She hugged him carefully, making sure not to wake Lucian. Her voice trembled with relief and scolding all at once.
"You've gotten so thin again… are you hurt? Oh, child, are you alright?"
The twins said nothing, but their hands tightened on Elias's clothes.
When Mrs. Hema gently tried to take Lucian, he stirred at the unfamiliar touch. But Elias only patted his head and whispered, "There, there," close to his ear. Lucian instantly calmed, his breath softening against Elias's chest.
Hema smiled kindly at the twins then. She didn't press them, didn't force words or touch—only offered her hand gently. With a nod from Elias, they followed her.
Their new room was simple, yet beautiful. Nothing too grand, nothing to make them feel like outsiders. Every piece of furniture seemed chosen with care.
"Rest for now," Hema said warmly. "I'll call you for dinner later. Clothes and other things are already in the wardrobe. If you need anything, ring the bell beside the bed."
Three beds waited for them.
"Share this room until you feel safe," she added. "Later, if you wish, we'll give you your own. It's your choice."
The twins exchanged a look and nodded. It all felt unreal, but right.
Lucian was laid down gently in the softest bed he had ever touched. The others flopped onto theirs, sinking into the warmth.
---
Meanwhile.... Elias returned to his office. He sat at the desk, took out paper, and wrote simply—his hand steady, his words direct, almost too plain for a letter to a king.
> I need something.
The herbs that grow high in the cliffs—roots with a silver sheen, and the dark blossoms that only open at night. They're hard to find, I know.
Send them soon, alright?
Don't ask what for. Just trust me.
And about meeting you… hmm. I'll think about it.
You see, I'm a father now, after all.
– Eli
They weren't herbs that healers or physicians would ever name. Their use wasn't written in medical texts.
Elias knew of them only because of that book—the one that had shown him fragments of his past. In the wrong hands, they were poison. In the right hands, they could mend what no ordinary medicine could.
It wasn't the kind of letter nobles would dare send to their sovereign, but Elias wrote as if he were speaking across a table. Simple, blunt, with no masks between them.
Direct, yet filled with warmth.
"Ting! Ting!"
Elias rang the bell. The butler entered.
"Send this to the king," Elias said simply.
The butler bowed and took the letter, his eyes shining with something unspoken.
---
When the room fell quiet again, Elias reached for the book.
Its pages lay still, pale under the lamplight.
He opened it.
The script was there—where before, there had been nothing. As though the parchment had been waiting all along, ink hidden until the moment he looked.
A new herb. A quiet clue.
Not revealed earlier, not late—only now.
The serpent's breath. A vine veined in violet, found only where shadows linger. One leaf, no more. The rest brings silence to the heart.
Elias studied the words without change in expression.
It was not alive, not guiding—yet it gave, piece by piece, step by step, always just ahead of him.
Elias's gaze lingered on the page only a moment longer.
The script had returned, as always—silent, inevitable.
Another herb. Another step.
He closed the book without hesitation.