Two long days had passed.
Time was flowing slowly, very slowly for Auren within those safe but equally foreign walls of the manor. Nevertheless, he had begun to emerge, even if only slightly, from that frozen, completely introverted state of the first day. Nythar's endless cheerful stories and the sincere smile on his face were melting the ice inside the boy millimeter by millimeter. Although Zirel still maintained her marble-like expressionless face, there was always an extra chocolate cookie or a sweet snack on the tray every time she came to Auren's room. Auren noticed Zirel's small "clandestine" kindnesses but remained silent. These two opposite characters were trying to re-weave the boy's shattered sense of trust stitch by stitch.
On the morning of the third day, Auren dared to crack open the heavy oak door of his room for the first time in days. Slipping through the door he had opened only as wide as a crack, he stepped into the manor's grand, black marble-clad main corridor. With silent steps, holding his breath, he hid behind a thick pillar at the top of the grand stairs. There was activity in the massive hall below.
Below, Aelrindel, the wisest of the group, and the lazy Lavinia were preparing for the journey. They had draped long, dark travel robes over their shoulders. Nythar and Zirel were standing in the middle of the hall to see them off. Aelrindel tapped his staff lightly on the ground, producing a dull thud, and looked seriously at the pair before him.
"Zirel, Nythar," Aelrindel said, a tone of definite instruction in his voice. "Dote on that child until we return. Open him up a bit, bring him out of his shell, and most importantly, gain his trust completely. Because when I return... we will begin his training."
At these words, Zirel's usual expressionless face suddenly faltered. Her black eyes widened slightly, and an irrepressible objection crept into her voice: "Training? Aelrindel, have you lost your mind? He is still so small! Even if he has recovered physically, his mind is still shattered. We cannot push him!"
Aelrindel sighed softly at Zirel's unexpected protective outburst. "Don't be angry with me, Zirel," the old elf said, spreading his hands. "My Lady wished it so. And we have no authority to question the things she sees."
As the atmosphere in the room grew heavy for a moment, Nythar crossed his arms over his chest with his usual curious demeanor. "Fine, but where are you going in such a hurry? The bloody raids on Auren's town and the eastern border have exhausted the people's patience; a secret wave of rebellion is growing. The surroundings are like a beehive right now because one of Luxaris's chief spokesmen was just assassinated. Is it really a good time to go out when every corner of the world is swarming with alert Luxaris dogs? What is it that pushes Lady Yuria into such turmoil?"
Aelrindel answered, lowering his voice further: "Lady Yuria is looking for someone. An Elder friend she knew from the old days... a long time ago."
Nythar's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "An Elder? But are there any Elders still living in the world besides the known ones?"
"It is likely a deep matter directly concerning my Lady," Aelrindel said, as if wanting to cut the subject short. "It is not for us to question, Nythar. Our duty is to track and open the way."
Hidden behind the pillar, Auren was engraving every word he heard into his mind. Training... Another living Elder... He held his breath, trying not to make a sound. However, there was something he was unaware of at that moment: those four formidable warriors in the hall had known of his presence, his heartbeat, and his breathing from the first second he hid behind the pillar. They simply showed nothing and did not break the game so as not to startle him.
Just then, Lavinia's weary voice was heard from a corner of the hall as she tried to sling her backpack over her shoulder. "I really can't believe it..." Lavinia murmured, wrinkling her beautiful face. "We've barely just arrived. I just got rid of that damn mud; I haven't even properly seen my bed. At least I could have rested a little! What would happen if I slept for three days?"
Aelrindel rolled his eyes at Lavinia's never-ending whining. He walked quickly toward her, grabbed the girl by the collar of her robe, and began dragging her toward the exit. "Stop whining, Lavinia, start walking. We must be ready to depart when Lady Yuria arrives!"
Lavinia objected, saying, "Hey, you're wrinkling my robe!" but submitted to being dragged, unable to resist the old elf.
A few seconds later, all sounds in the manor's grand hall suddenly ceased. The mana in the air became so dense that even Auren felt he had difficulty breathing behind the pillar. At the top step of the grand stairs appeared Yuria, with the black-green embroidered blindfold covering her face, her flawless pale skin, and her slightly wavy poison-green hair. Her steps made no sound on the marble. As she passed by them, Nythar and Zirel bowed their heads respectfully.
"Let's go," Yuria said, dominating the entire room with just a single word.
As she headed toward the door, her steps suddenly slowed. Although her body was turned toward the door, she turned her head slightly over her shoulder. Her invisible gaze from behind the blindfold she never removed locked onto the thick marble pillar where Auren was hiding with pinpoint accuracy. Auren froze where he stood. Yuria's eyes were closed, but she clearly saw the boy's soul trembling, hiding there. A short, silent moment passed. A faint, unreadable expression appeared on Yuria's lips. Then she turned her head forward again and disappeared toward the manor's exit, walking down the dark corridor. Aelrindel and Lavinia, who was still grumbling as she was dragged by her collar, followed after her.
Auren slowly slumped to the ground, leaning his back against the wall behind the pillar. His heart was pounding in his chest. Training would begin. He would grow stronger. But first, he now knew that he had to completely break down this invisible wall between himself, Zirel, and Nythar.