The Hero's confusion only deepened as his gaze fixed on the girl before him. At first she seemed ordinary — just a terrified youth scrambling in the dirt. But then he noticed them: two mechanical arms, hovering just above her real ones, shifting and whirring with a faint metallic hum.
She was dressed strangely too, a vest thrown over a simple tank top, her purple-dyed hair messy but striking. There was a nervous sharpness in her eyes, though her whole body trembled.
As he stepped toward her, she scrambled backward, kicking up leaves.
"H-hey! Look, I don't care that you're the Hero, alright? If you try anything funny, you'll regret it! I'll… I'll make sure you're in big trouble!"
The Hero paused, tilting his head, his long hair swaying across his face. For the briefest moment, his expression almost softened with confusion.
"You some kind of… idol?" he asked.
The girl blinked. "W-what? What's an idol?"
He froze. The word had slipped out before he realized it. The Hero looked away, his lips pressing into a hard line. Right… this isn't home. Idols don't exist here.
Still, the thought had come naturally. With her bright hair, her striking appearance, and the way her mechanical arms almost floated behind her like a stage prop, she certainly looked the part.
The girl rose cautiously, her shoulders tense, her strange arms shifting protectively around her as though ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"My name's Lilly Draconia," she said, forcing strength into her voice. "Lilly, court engineer."
The Hero stiffened. For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then his expression shifted, confusion melting into something far heavier — frustration.
"…Lilly," he muttered. "You've grown since the last time I saw you… back when you were with your brother."
Her eyes widened.
The name Draconia was no ordinary one. The Draconians were a family of immense importance, whispered to carry the blessing of a divine dragon itself. They had produced warriors, leaders, and above all — magicians. Among them, none had shone brighter than Geralt Draconia.
The Hero's best friend.
And now, staring at Lilly's face, the old wound burned again.
Lilly must have seen it, the storm behind his eyes. She lowered her gaze, her voice quieter. "…I'm sorry. For showing up like this. But my brother told me… if I was ever in trouble, I should find you."
The Hero had not expected that. For a long moment he simply stood there, silent, as the past pressed down on him. He wanted to walk away. He wanted to drown it all in silence. But he couldn't ignore Geralt's name.
With a tired sigh, he pulled the bottle from his side and sat heavily on the ground.
"Fine," he muttered, motioning with a hand. "Sit. Then tell me what it is you need."
Lilly hesitated, her strange arms twitching nervously. But slowly, she lowered herself to the ground across from him. The spark in her eyes hadn't faded — if anything, it glowed brighter now that she was finally face-to-face with the Hero she had sought.