Hearing her voice brought relief—but also a sharp sting. It reminded me of the words she had hurled at me in that vision. I knew it hadn't truly been her, that it was the Qliphoth trying to tear me apart… yet it had felt so real that it still hurt, even months later.
"Come in, Manu," I answered, softening my voice. I extinguished the candles and incense before she stepped inside.
She opened the door slowly, as though afraid of disturbing me. But it wasn't just that. There was something in her eyes—a hesitation, a weight that didn't belong to her usual lightness.
"Did something happen?" I asked, smiling. Not the polished smile I gave Elise's patients, nor the cold smile I reserved for strangers, but a real one—the kind only my family ever received.
"No, Eli," she replied, timidly. "I just wanted to know if you wanted… to play."
I knew "play" wasn't the right word. Manu was almost nine now, and ever since she had started learning spells with Elise, she always used that word whenever she meant training. I never corrected her. I found it endearing.
"Of course," I said, trying to hide my own anxiety. "Let's go to the back."
Her eyes usually lit up when I said that, but now they stayed dim. That alone put me on alert.
We walked side by side into Elise's backyard. The sky was beginning to turn shades of gray and orange, and Brumaria's cold wind swept through the cracks between houses, carrying with it the scent of smoke and fresh bread.
Our new house was nearly finished. In a month we would be able to move back. What still remained was the completion of the Dark Throne's branch. Once it stood ready, we would finally return.
I would have a month with my family before my departure. The thought filled me with that same strange mixture of joy and sorrow—an aftertaste of sweetness laced with grief that followed me with every step.
"What do you want to do, Manu?" I asked, as I always did, letting her lead the training.
She walked to the same tree where, weeks ago, I had asked her to land five magical strikes. She touched the bark with her fingertips, then looked at me with that determined gaze of hers.
"I want to show you what I've learned with Elise," she said, firm, though there was still a flicker of childish excitement in her eyes.
Since our return from Askov, Elise had intensified Manu's training. And honestly, I couldn't have been more pleased. It was a comfort to know she would be more prepared to defend herself, and that she would have something to occupy her once I left for Cainã.
"Of course, Manu. Let's see what you can do now," I replied, letting my tone carry a hint of challenge, almost to spark her courage.
That's when I noticed Maria and Elise in the backyard as well. My mother watched me with a serene smile—the kind that warmed even the coldest corners of my heart. Elise, on the other hand, was as serious as ever—but there was something hidden in her face, something I couldn't name, that unsettled me. Perhaps it was only the tension that had clung to all of us these past months.
I turned away from them and focused on Manu. She was already shaping water before her. Droplets gathered, spinning in the air until they formed a liquid sphere. I had always known her affinity was water—she had been skilled at forming spheres and fine, cutting jets. But this time, something was different.
The sphere compressed, edges sharpening, until it hardened into a crystalline point.
"Oh…" I murmured, genuinely impressed. "You're managing ice?"
There was no mockery in my voice—I was truly surprised. I immediately recalled what Iolanda had told me: to form ice, it wasn't enough to manipulate water. It required cooling it to crystallization—which demanded affinity with wind as well. I had never imagined Manu could reach such a fusion.
She hurled the ice spear at the tree. It wasn't as fast as my spinning stone spear, but it cut through the air with strength, embedding itself firmly in the trunk.
"Impressive, Manu!" I exclaimed, stepping toward her, my excitement plain. "How long have you been able to turn water into ice?"
"For about two months," she replied, more animated now, her childish pride unmistakable. "But that's not all."
She pointed her hand toward the ground. The damp grass shivered, and a thin mist began to rise, creeping low across the yard, tendrils of icy fog snaking outward. The air grew colder, my breath briefly turning to vapor.
"Fire and water?" I asked, confused, glancing at Elise and my mother.
"Yes," Manu replied, before either of them could speak.
She gave me no time to process. With another motion, two more spears of ice took shape before her. They were smaller, slower to solidify, but they were there—sharp, glinting in the late sun like teeth of crystal.
Before she could release them, the spell collapsed, melting into water that slipped through her fingers. Manu's breathing turned ragged, uneven. Instinctively, I rushed to her.
"Breathe slowly…" I whispered, laying my hands against her back, feeling her body tremble from the strain.
Elise, who had stood motionless beside my mother, finally stepped forward. Maria moved with her, her eyes full of worry and love.
"You're not ready to wield three elements at once, Emanuelle," Elise said. Her tone was serious, yet pride hid within its firmness.
My mother, on the other hand, let tenderness seep into her voice alongside her concern:
"Daughter, you don't need to push yourself so hard. Take it easy."
"I know, Mother," Emanuelle answered, still catching her breath. "I just wanted to show Eli I won't be left behind."
Ah… so that was it. She wanted to impress me. If that was her goal, she had succeeded completely. In these past months, I can't say I've trained much at all. Most of my time had been consumed by the meditations Iolanda insisted upon, saying that without an altar and a divine link, my Qliphothic power would remain unstable. Combat, she said, would be the duty of Elder Marduk to teach me.
Even so, seeing Manu attempt something so daring filled me with pride.
"You're getting strong, Manu," I said, keeping my hand against her back. "I was truly impressed, seeing you handle three elements at once."
She smiled—soft, genuine, the first since we stepped into the yard. But the light in her face quickly dimmed, replaced by hesitation. I noticed immediately.
"Something's bothering you?" I asked, though my eyes drifted toward my mother for answers.
It was Elise who cut in, as if to break a dangerous silence:
"Tell him, Emanuelle."
Manu bit her lip, as if afraid my words would change after hearing hers. At last, she confessed:
"Elise invited me to join the Tower of Wisdom."
"Really, Manu?" I exclaimed, genuinely excited.
And I meant it. I truly was glad. She would receive a good education, be welcomed into a great order. Of course, it wouldn't be the same as me—she would only enter officially when she reached the age for the arcane university. But even so, it was huge.
"Yes…" she replied, but her eyes stayed low, lacking the same enthusiasm.
I frowned.
"Why do you look so down telling me this?"
She gazed at me as if I were the only one too blind to see. The look pierced me. Then, my mother explained:
"She believes joining the Tower of Wisdom would be a betrayal, Elian."
"A betrayal?" I repeated in thought. It made no sense. In what world could my sister ever betray me?
"What do you mean, Mother?" I asked aloud, baffled.
"She thinks that if she joins the Tower, she'll be your rival… your enemy," Elise said, cold as always, though a sliver of empathy bled through her tone.
Enemy? The word echoed in my mind like poison. And then I remembered the argument between Iolanda and Lysander. That must have been where Manu got the idea.
"Never!" The word tore from me too loud, too harsh.
Emanuelle flinched, startled, and the smile she had worn shattered into sadness. Damn it… I'd spoken the wrong way.
"Manu…" I said softer, reaching out and taking her hand. "You could never betray me, nor become my enemy." I held her gaze, steady, unwavering. "Even if we stand in different orders, we will still be brother and sister."
"But…" she tried to argue, her voice breaking.
"Don't worry, Manu," I pressed on, squeezing her hands. "I want to see you as strong as I will become one day." I paused, letting the weight of my words settle. "We will not allow the rivalries of the orders to divide us."
Her eyes filled with tears. She nodded, weeping softly.
"Yes… I'll become strong enough to protect you. To protect Mother and Anthony." And then she threw her arms around me, holding tight, as if to seal the promise.
"I will be her teacher," Elise said, her voice regaining its firm, pragmatic edge. "I have returned to the Tower, and Elder Azemir has granted me authority to guide her." She paused, her gaze cutting toward me. "And I assure you, no one will ever try to use Emanuelle against you, even if you stand with the Dark Throne." She added, matter-of-factly: "She will remain in Brumaria until the day you both go together to the Arcane University."
Her words brought me a relief so sharp it was almost tangible. Elise wasn't only planning Manu's future—she was aligning it with mine, ensuring we would never truly be separated.
A warm wind swept across the yard, stirring dry leaves and carrying away the heaviness that only moments before had weighed over us all.