Evelyn's POV (through Arthur)
It took us nearly two days to bury the dead. The vampires had tried to wipe out the entire village, killing as many as they could. When the last grave was filled, silence hung heavy in the air.
Alice was the first to break it. "We can't rebuild here. Every house is gone, and there aren't enough of us left."
Jenny nodded. "If we go to my father, he can help. The survivors could start again in another village. We could even rebuild the orphanage there."
So it was decided. Alice, Adam, Jenny, and Alex would escort the villagers to safety. I, however, excused myself. I told them I needed to take the boy—Lucas—somewhere safe. I promised to rejoin them soon.
By the time I arrived at my family home, dawn was breaking. My real body—my original self—was out hunting rabbits with Father. Mother was at the door, cradling my youngest sister, Avery.
For a moment, I realized how suspicious I must look: Arthur, a grown man who seemed to appear out of nowhere, carrying an unconscious child on his shoulder, standing in front of a woman's house while her husband was away. I half expected her to slam the door in my face.
But she didn't. She looked at me, then at the boy, and simply said, "Bring him inside. Lay him in your brother's old room—it's empty while he trains to be a knight."
I carried Lucas to the room and set him down on the bed. As I turned, Mother was watching me closely.
"So," she said softly, "this is what you've been doing with the Mirror Image I taught you. I do wonder, though… why shape it like this?" Her lips curved in a teasing smile. "Is this the type of man you find attractive?"
I nearly choked. After coughing and calming myself, I forced a reply. "No—it's just… this form looks heroic."
She raised an eyebrow. "Heroic, hmm? And how did you know I'd recognize it wasn't real?"
I frowned. "Because Arthur looks like a real person. How did you know otherwise?"
Instead of answering, she only shrugged. "A hunch. Still… something about him feels familiar."
The awkwardness was unbearable, so I quickly excused myself, leaving Lucas in her care.
Later, when my true body returned from hunting, I sat beside Mother to help with her sewing. She asked me quietly, "Who is that boy? And isn't this Arthur—the one people whisper about as the hero of this generation?"
I shook my head. "Arthur isn't the hero. The boy is."
Mother didn't even look surprised. That unsettled me more than anything. It made me wonder if she knew more than she let on.
"The vampires know, too," I added. "That's why they attacked his village and tried to wipe out everyone—to leave no witnesses. They know he's the next hero."
Mother finally set down her needle, her gaze calm but sharp. "Then this may be the safest place for him. Better here than in the hands of those who would exploit him. We can protect him, guide him, train him to become the hero he's meant to be."
Her words eased me, but also filled me with a strange tension. For the first time, I felt the weight of what it meant—not just to protect Lucas, but to prepare him for the burden only a hero could carry.