The table was set simply, but generously. Smoked meat, garden vegetables, fresh bread. Rebecca and Miranda served with warm smiles, and the baby's giggles softened the atmosphere.
And yet… a persistent tension lingered.
Zéphyr, silent, kept casting glances at Meliodas and Zeldris. Not hostile—yet heavy with buried thoughts.
Meliodas noticed, but remained focused on his meal. Zeldris, meanwhile, kept a watchful eye on everything.
Trying to ease the mood, Miranda gently addressed the two brothers:
"So, what brings you to the Isle of Renewal?"
Zeldris set down his fork and sat up straight.
"We were looking for Zéphyr."
Zéphyr froze. He slowly raised his eyes to Miranda… then to them.
"You were looking for me? Why?"
Meliodas answered bluntly:
"We have questions. About our family. Our bloodline."
A silence settled in. Miranda lowered her gaze, then slowly stood, holding the baby in her arms.
"I see. In that case, I'll leave you men to talk."
She turned to Rebecca.
"Sweetheart, can you go lay your little brother in the crib? It's getting late."
"Okay, Mommy."
Rebecca made a detour toward her father and kissed his cheek.
"Good night, Daddy."
"Good night, my darling."
She offered a warm smile to Meliodas and Zeldris.
"Good night to you too."
"Good night, Rebecca," they replied in unison.
Miranda leaned toward Zéphyr, whispered something in his ear, and then quietly closed the door behind her as she left the room.
Silence returned—heavier this time.
Zéphyr sighed and straightened up in his chair.
"I'm sorry about earlier… the choking. I may have reacted a bit too harshly."
Zeldris raised an eyebrow, then replied calmly:
"It's fine. I could tell you weren't really trying to kill me."
Zéphyr cracked a faint smile. He seemed a bit more relaxed.
"Your names again? Meliodas and… Zeldris, right?"
"That's correct," Meliodas said.
Zéphyr crossed his arms.
"So… you want answers. Ask your questions."
Meliodas didn't waste time.
"For starters: Why isn't your name in any demon clan records? Why has your memory been erased? And most of all… how are you still alive after three thousand years? Where have you been? What have you done all this time?"
Zéphyr clenched his fists. A mix of anger, pain, and resignation flickered in his eyes.
"So… they really went that far. They erased me completely…"
He raised his gaze, looking at each of them in turn.
"Alright. You want the truth? You'll get it."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze burning with resolve.
"I'll tell you why my name was forever struck from the history of the demon clan… and why that bastard Demon King—our father—wanted me dead."