An unsettling silence settled between the two of them.
The elf broke it, her voice light and cheerful, acting as if nothing had happened.
"Why did you run away from ho?"
Isolde paused, curious to hear what he would say. Lugh spared the elf a passing glance before replying.
"Because I didn’t want to die."
The words struck like a gunshot—blunt, cold, and final.
"Huh? What do you an by that?"
She asked, her tone now uncertain.
"Is that your final question?"
Lugh retorted, a quiet edge in his voice. The elf flinched. She was already regretting agreeing to this stupid rule.
Lugh took a mont to consider his final question.
It was strange, really. He had been the one to set the rules this ti, and yet he found himself echoing the sa question he had once asked the priestess, Xhi.
"What is your na?"
The question rang out through the room, just as it had once echoed within the sacred halls of the temple.
Xhi’s reaction had been peculiar. She hadn’t spoken aloud. Instead, her voice had brushed directly against his mind.
My na is Xhiraan. You shall not speak this na out loud, nor share it with anyone. There will be consequences—terrible ones—if you do.
She had smiled afterward, a wide, unnerving thing.
The elf in front of him reacted differently. Although taken aback, her eyes sparkled with interest.
"My na? Selaphiel... Von Heim."
Lugh frowned. Selaphiel? But that was—
"Yes"
She said smoothly, interrupting his thoughts.
"I share the sa na as your eldest sister. In fact, I’m the one who nad her after myself."
"Ah, I see."
An interesting detail, but nothing too important.
Selaphiel nodded slightly, brushing a lock of pale blonde hair behind her ear.
"Now it’s ti for my final question"
She said. Her voice turned thoughtful, almost playful as she pondered it. Finally, she spoke.
"When and where did you awaken your magic?"
"That’s two questions."
"Okay, then... where?"
The when was obvious. It had to be the year he ran away from ho.
"The Devil Sea."
Lugh’s tone was calm—too calm. If there was ever a mont where both won visibly lost composure, this was it.
"The... Devil Sea?"
"Huh? What are you even talking about?"
"Weren’t you in Drakensmar? How did you even get to the Devil Sea?!"
Lugh clapped his hands mockingly, imitating soone particularly irritating.
"I’m sorry, but you’re fresh out of questions."
The smile he wore felt wrong on his face, like a mask worn backwards.
"No, I’m being serious now! What is your connection with the Devil Sea?!"
Was it just him, or did Selaphiel seem agitated?
As expected, this family had so serious underlying issues. The kind that festered beneath the surface, unnoticed during his entire childhood.
They peppered him with questions, their voices overlapping, but Lugh remained silent. Stoic. As if born mute.
Selaphiel’s hand twitched at her side, a faint pulse of mana rippling through the air. She considered using more forceful thods, but stopped herself.
From what she had witnessed in the garden, his effortless command over birds, the near-flawless, undeniably elven healing arts, that bone-chilling mont he transford another person into a mirror of himself—Lugh held a vault of secrets.
And he wasn’t in a hurry to open it.
No matter. She had ti. And ti was all she needed.
She settled back into her seat, lips pursed in contemplation. She was just about to speak when—
The door burst open with a thud.
"Mother, you have to see this!"
Tall, with long black hair and heterochromatic eyes—one gold, one violet—it was Selaphiel, eldest daughter of Isolde. Known more casually as Sela.
Isolde’s ears perked, her expression unreadable.
If it had been Lirienne who barged in, that would’ve been expected. But for her eldest to do so? It had to be important.
Sela froze when she saw the occupants of the room.
"Lugh!"
Her voice was sharp, startled.
What was he doing here?!
Her hostility flared, but was imdiately replaced by confusion upon seeing soone else.
"Mirelle?"
No. The ears—
"Grandmother!"
The elf gave a soft chuckle.
"My, my. Look how much you’ve grown. Humans really are sothing else."
Then ca the hug—quick, tight, overflowing with warmth. It was the first ti Lugh had seen his eldest sister abandon her composed exterior.
The elf remained seated, content to let her granddaughter nearly pounce into her arms.
Lugh took ntal notes. Every reaction, every gesture, a new page in the ever-growing dossier he called Selaphiel.
Hmm.
The elf glanced at him, then at the granddaughter’s sudden shift in deanor, before turning to Isolde.
Isolde spoke quickly.
"The actual culprit has been caught... and erased. Lugh wasn’t responsible for Lirienne’s wounds."
"I... see."
Sela’s voice still held a tinge of disbelief.
"But he could use magic!"
She protested, pointing at him.
"That’s what we’re trying to understand."
"Oh?"
"We’re getting off track"
Isolde interjected.
"What did you co here to tell ?"
"Ah, right!"
Sela pulled out a folded newsletter, its pages deep black, the text inked in shining white. An underground bulletin, circulated quietly throughout the shadows of the Ophris Kingdom.
"It’s about Lyra Cross!"
Lugh perked up, ever so slightly. The movent didn’t go unnoticed by the won in the room, though none chose to comnt—yet.
"Lyra Cross?"
Selaphiel the elf raised an eyebrow, combing a hand through her flaxen hair.
"Ah!"
She exclaid.
"You an that unruly child?"
"Unruly?"
Lugh asked, his interest finally piqued.
"Why yes, I rember it like it was yesterday. She was a real nace at our balls. Once, she switched the drinks and got all the children drunk... before proceeding to rob them blind."
A bemused smile curled her lips.
"Gold, necklaces, jewelry... The Cross family had to send out apologies for weeks."
A faint smile graced Lugh’s face, genuine, for once. It stopped the room. Even the elf blinked.
Selaphiel quickly added,
"Too bad she stubbornly refused to learn magic. Not even basic force control."
"Well that’s the thing"
Sela interrupted, unfurling the final line of the article.
"The news says she challenged the patriarch of the Cross family to a life-and-death duel!"
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