"So, you're actually going to head there to get them?" Selyndra asked, finally breaking the thick, sacred silence.
Eiden didn't answer immediately. He remained still, staring down at the letter from his mother resting in his hands. The harsh "dumbass" and the desperate "come home" seemed to carry equal weight in his mind.
"…Yes," he said softly.
Selyndra pushed herself off the windowsill in one fluid, graceful motion and began walking toward the door. She paused, placing a hand on the frame. "I'll speak with Zanders. I'll ask him to arrange a heavily guarded carriage to escort us to the Whitecrest Clan's village." Her boots clicked rhythmically against the stone, the sound fading as she disappeared down the long hallway.
Dyuke sat quietly for a few more seconds, then stood, snapping his grimoire shut. "I'll be going now. That's all I needed to deliver."
"Wait."
A commanding voice echoed through the chamber as King Zanders entered, Selyndra following closely at his side. "Selyndra asked me to have my knights escort you," Zanders said, his expression grave. "But I'm afraid they wouldn't be strong enough to handle even a single black ogre on those roads. Dyuke—I'd prefer if you handled the escort instead. Bring fifty of your mages. And I ask you three—Selyndra, Iris, Vaelus—to go with him."
Dyuke nodded without hesitation. "Got it. I'll have my mages at the gates by tomorrow morning."
The room grew quiet once more as the leaders left to discuss logistics. Selyndra hopped back onto the table beside Eiden, adjusting her golden hair with practiced elegance.
"So… I guess we'll be leaving soon," Iris murmured. "On the road to the Whitecrest village."
Vaelus glanced out the window, watching a carriage roll down the stone trail toward the bustling town beyond the lake. "Very well, then," Iris said, standing up. "I'm going to chill in the springs in the backyard for a bit."
"Hm. That's not a bad idea…" Selyndra thought aloud, hurrying after her. "Wait up!"
"I'm going to the library," Eiden said as he stood, his grey eyes already distant. "I'd love to read a grimoire."
"Off to read something you've already read a thousand times?" Vaelus snickered.
"Yup…" Eiden replied, his black cloak billowing as he walked out.
That night, the springs behind the castle glowed with a soft, ethereal blue light. Steam rose in lazy curls, dancing in the cool air. Iris was submerged up to her nose, her black hair floating around her like dark silk. Selyndra sat on the stone edge, her light brown skin luminous under the moonlight, her golden hair catching the light like threads of gold.
"It's nice tonight," Selyndra murmured. "This wind is… relaxing."
Iris let out a long, contented exhale. "Yeah… it is."
"You know, Iris… I've got a question for you," Selyndra shifted, her voice turning smooth. "What do you think of Eiden? Relationship-wise. Would you date him?"
Iris's cheeks flushed a violent shade of red instantly. She bolted upright, standing fully in the water. "Absolutely NOT!" she yelped.
Selyndra smirked. "Hmph. And why not? I think you and him would make a nice couple."
Iris scoffed, stepping out of the water. "Eugh, no. He's too violent. Too dangerous." She grabbed a towel. "In my opinion, you two would make a great couple. You grew up together. You have more chemistry than anyone else in the Great Sages."
Selyndra stood, her golden hair draping over her shoulders like a waterfall. "Is that so…?" she whispered, her eyes drifting to the glowing water. "I guess I could see it. He cares for others… and he is strong." She began walking toward the castle, her voice dropping lower. "He's very tough, though. Over the years, I've seen how he reacts when women flirt with him. He doesn't care. He doesn't even flirt back. If I tried the same thing right now… I wouldn't even have a chance—"
Iris smirked. "Hmph. You thought about seducing him, didn't you?"
Selyndra shot her a glare, her cheeks burning pink. "I don't have time for this foolishness!" She marched toward the door.
They reached their shared bedroom, and Selyndra grabbed the knob, her hand trembling slightly with frustration. Iris caught her hand. "Hey. Look at me. If you ever want to approach him, just do it. He's not a bad person. He might even ask you on a date. Don't be afraid."
Selyndra's expression softened. "Hmph… you're right. I shouldn't be afraid of considering it. I was just worried because… as pretty as I am, I've never actually been in a relationship."
Selyndra turned the knob. "But now that I've said all that," she added with a teasing smirk, "what kind of guy would you—"
Iris froze. Selyndra stopped, too. "Behind you…" Iris whispered.
Selyndra slowly turned around. Her heart nearly stopped.
Eiden was sitting on the ottoman beside the large white bed, calmly reading his grimoire. On the left side of the bed, Iris's red robes were neatly folded; on the right, Selyndra's white dress lay perfectly pressed.
The room was deathly silent.
Eiden closed his book. "Oh," he said casually, "you two got back sooner than I thought. I folded your clothes and freshened them for you." He stood up, clipping the grimoire to his waist. "Sorry for staying here so long. I'll be going." He walked past them and disappeared into the hall without a second glance.
The silence that followed was agonizing.
"…Did he hear us?" Iris whispered.
Selyndra turned her head slowly, her face blank with shock. "He folded our clothes. That means he was in there for a while."
Selyndra buried her face in her hands. "He definitely heard us."
Then Iris snorted. A giggle escaped, then a full-blown laugh.
"Don't you dare laugh," Selyndra glared, though she eventually climbed into bed. The room smelled faintly of lavender—a cleansing spell he must have cast.
"What do you think tomorrow will be like?" Iris asked as she turned out the light.
"Chaotic," Selyndra answered. "And Civilar… we have to deal with the thought of him, too."
The Next Morning
Dawn broke over the island, painting the castle walls in liquid gold. In the courtyard, the four Great Sages stood ready. Eiden was a pillar of stillness, his black cloak rippling in the morning breeze. Beside him, Selyndra stood poised like a goddess, Iris was a striking contrast in her crimson robes, and Vaelus flashed a sharp-toothed smirk.
The sound of hooves thundered across the bridge. Fifty mages in blue cloaks rode in perfect formation, their auras humming with power. At the front, two leaders guided a reinforced carriage etched with silver runes.
Dyuke stepped forward, his own cloak fluttering. "Eiden," he called out, "your escort has arrived."
The fifty mages dismounted in unison, forming two perfect lines. The air itself seemed to vibrate with magic. The journey to the Whitecrest Clan—and to Eiden's past—had finally begun.