As night fell over Aurora City, the sky above danced with ribbons of green and violet light, casting an ethereal glow across the towering buildings and winding streets. The fad aurora, for which the city was nad, shimred like a celestial river flowing through the heavens, bathing the skyline in its mystical hues. Despite the spectacle above, the city had quieted, with even the most bustling districts succumbing to the stillness of midnight.
Inside the central clinic, tucked away in one of the greater streets, two weary parents slept soundly beside their bedridden child. The faint hum of the aurora outside barely disturbed their rest, as the exhaustion of worry had claid them. The clinic was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of streetlamps from outside offering the barest light.
The door creaked open. A shadowy figure stepped into the room, her arrival as silent as the aurora rippling above. Cloaked in darkness, she moved with purpose, and as her robes swayed, a subtle green mist began to escape, curling into the air like a phantom. It drifted across the room, creeping toward the sleeping parents. Slowly, the gas found its way into their lungs, deepening their slumber until they were completely unaware of anything around them.
The figure approached the sickly child, her footsteps light as she moved closer to the bed. On her shoulders, twin serpents with scales that caught the faint light of the aurora coiled restlessly. Their eyes, glowing with an unnatural erald light, focused on the child, watching with a strange and unsettling intensity. The serpents’ tongues flicked out, tasting the air, their gaze never wavering.
As the green glow from the serpents’ eyes bathed the child in its eerie light, the woman’s hidden face curved into a slow, deliberate smile. The aurora’s light filtered through the window, casting an ethereal glow on the room, but the beauty of the night outside was lost in the shadow of the figure looming over the child.
Esralda stood over the child, her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the aurora that seeped through the window. The twin serpents on her shoulders flicked their tongues lazily, as if sensing her next move. With a delicate flick of her finger, a tiny vial appeared between her slender fingers. The glass was clear at first, no bigger than her thumb, and filled with a liquid that shimred faintly.
Her lips curled into a subtle smirk as she popped off the cork. The instant the vial was uncapped, the liquid shifted—its clarity fading, replaced by a shimring yellow hue. Esralda lowered herself slightly, prying open the child’s lips with graceful fingers. Her eyes glead under the light of her serpents as she poured the contents of the vial into the child’s mouth, her movents precise and practiced.
The serpents watched closely, their erald eyes glowing, reflecting the sa cold satisfaction that played on their master’s face. The child lay still, oblivious to the deadly concoction sliding down their throat.
"It seems like you weren’t enough to gain the attention of the legendary one," Esralda whispered, her voice smooth and indifferent. She stood tall, her serpents coiling as if to mirror her haughty posture.
She turned away, her steps soft and unhurried as she made her way to the door. "Thank you for your service," she murmured under her breath, her smile lingering as she disappeared into the night, leaving behind nothing but the shimring light of the aurora, casting shadows on the walls of the now silent clinic.
The morning sun cast a shimring light through the windows, reflecting the subtle hues of the aurora from the night before. The soft, warm glow flickered across the room, landing gently on the closed eyes of the mother. Her lashes fluttered, and her eyes slowly opened. At first, her vision was blurry, but as her sight cleared, her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened, disbelief flooding her senses.
There, sitting upright on the bed, was her child—alive and well, their once sickly complexion now brimming with health. The sight was a shock. Her mouth opened slightly as her hands instinctively flew to her mouth, stifling the gasp of overwhelming joy and confusion that welled up in her chest.
anwhile, across Aurora City, in the VIP room of Venenum, Lyon stirred from his sleep. Drowsiness weighed on his limbs as he stretched his arms with a groggy sigh. He blinked a few tis, glancing around as he tried to shake off the remnants of slumber.
"Hmm?" Lyon’s brow raised as he realized his feet was planted right on top of Ian’s. He casually stood up, feeling his stiff neck pop, and took in the chaos that surrounded him. The rest of his group was scattered around the room in various, amusing positions.
Graham lay sprawled on top of Ian, his massive fra nearly crushing the poor man beneath him. Kesya, true to her nature, snored loudly, her deep breaths mimicking the sound of a war horn echoing across a battlefield. Assid, ever the ticulous one, sohow managed to sleep with perfect posture, even while seated. Harvestasya, curled up on the floor, hugged Kesya’s leg like it was so sort of magical staff, her peaceful expression contrasting with the chaos around her. And lastly, through the process of elimination, Lyon found Liu’s pair of legs sticking out from under the table, the rest of his body hidden beneath.
Lyon chuckled, rubbing his temples. "What a bunch of idiots," he muttered affectionately, rolling his shoulders as he prepared to wake them up—though, part of him was tempted to let them sleep just a bit longer.
Lyon, still drowsy but amused by the situation, decided to leave his companions undisturbed. The lively bunch deserved their rest after all. As he opened the door to the VIP room, the head waiter was already waiting, bowing courteously.
"Good morning, master," the waiter greeted.
Lyon raised a brow, curious. "Morning," he replied.
The waiter handed over a small parchnt. "The lady with the red hair left a ssage for you."
Lyon unfolded the note, his eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. It was from Cecile, of course.
’I’ve rented the entire Venenum Inn, and yes, I used Esralda’s na for it. Don’t worry about or the others—we’ve got our own rooms and are sleeping soundly. Don’t wake us up!’
At the bottom of the ssage was a playful doodle of a trident. Lyon couldn’t help but smile wryly.
"Looks like I’m on my own for now," he muttered, shaking his head before glancing back at the room.
The serene faces of his companions tugged at his heartstrings, though for a brief mont, his smile faltered. His mind flashed to a distant mory—one from long ago. They were younger then, still wild and brimming with reckless ambition. Even back then, they’d slept like this, without a care in the world, trusting that he would keep watch. Ti had passed, they’d all grown stronger, yet so things never changed.
With a soft, fond smile, Lyon turned back to the head waiter. "Let them sleep. Don’t wake them up under any circumstances," he said, his tone firm but warm. "Also, let them know I’ve hit the streets if they ask."
The head waiter bowed, "As you wish, master."
Lyon stepped out into the cool morning air of Aurora City, the vibrant lights of the aurora still shimring faintly in the sky. With his hands in his pockets and a calm smile on his face, he prepared to explore the city on his own for a while.
It didn’t take long for Lyon to notice the commotion stirring in the city. People rushed through the streets, their voices rising with excitent, practically buzzing with the news. He caught snippets of their hurried conversations as they darted past.
"Did you hear? The child resurrected back!" "No, no! He never died in the first place!" "Co on, let’s check it out!"
Lyon’s brows furrowed slightly, intrigued. A resurrection, or at least the perception of one, was no small matter in any city. He smiled, his curiosity piqued, and casually began walking toward the central clinic. It seed fate was nudging him in a particular direction, and as always, he was more than willing to follow its lead.
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