Irfin narrowed his eyes, arms crossed again, a fla twitching behind his ear like an irritated spark.
Irfin: "So, why’d you suddenly rember us after eighty-nine years, huh? Got bored of playing queen in so stone castle?"
He crossed one leg over the other, his tone laced with sarcasm. Then, without waiting for her answer, he jabbed a finger toward her.
Irfin: "Let tell you beforehand—I’m not doing a damn thing without a contract."
Neris (softly): " neither."
Aeros: "No freebies this ti~"
Terra (nodding): "Even the earth doesn’t move without purpose."
Evelyn only lifted an eyebrow, calm and amused.
Evelyn: "I knew you’d say that. That’s why..."
She stepped back slightly and gestured to the intricate pattern etched into the earth—now softly glowing, threads of golden, blue, green, and red light weaving through the circle like veins.
Evelyn (coolly): "This ti, I made a contractual spirit circle."
All four spirits turned their gaze toward the ground.
The once decorative-looking pattern now pulsed with power and precision—ancient bindings layered into each symbol, each quadrant woven with the essence of their own elental realms.
A mont of silence hung in the air.
Then—
Terra: "She wasn’t playing this ti."
Neris: "The balance is perfect."
Aeros (grinning): "Ooh... tricky little witch. I like it."
Irfin (clicking his tongue): "Hmph. Fine. Whatever."
The circle pulsed once—bright and blinding—before settling into a steady glow. But the power didn’t sink into the ground.
It moved to her.
One by one, the spirits stepped forward— to bind themselves to her.
Irfin was first. He scowled, but his fire dimd as he approached Evelyn. With a short sigh, he pressed two fingers against her chest, right over her heart. A flicker of fla passed from him into her, and a fiery mark flared against her skin before fading.
Irfin (grumbling): "Tch. Eighty-nine years and you’re still two steps ahead, little witch."
Evelyn (smilingly): "You wouldn’t have co if you didn’t want this."
He said nothing—but he didn’t deny it.
Neris, the water spirit, ca next—graceful, serene. Her translucent robes flowed like river currents, and her presence quieted the wind itself. She stepped close to Evelyn and placed a cool hand gently on her forehead.
Neris (softly): "Still stubborn. Still reckless. Still... you."
A wave of calm surged through Evelyn’s mind, and a glistening crest of water shimred briefly over her brow before vanishing into her skin.
Then ca Aeros, the wind spirit, spinning lazily through the air with a mischievous grin, his pale hair flaring in all directions, caught in a breeze only he could command. He hovered before Evelyn, then leaned down and pressed his hand against her shoulder.
A gust swept through her cloak, wild and playful. A swirling mark of wind twirled into existence along her collarbone, glimring before fading.
Aeros: "You better make things interesting this ti, as usual~"
Lastly, Terra stepped forward. Silent, steady, her presence grounding. Moss still clung to her shoulders like old mory, and earthy fragrance lingered around her. She t Evelyn’s gaze, calm and grounding, then slowly reached out and pressed her warm hand against Evelyn’s spine, between her shoulder blades.
A deep hum vibrated through Evelyn’s bones as a mark like polished stone blood across her back.
Terra: "The contract is made."
As the final mark settled, the glow of the circle faded. It had served its purpose—only a vessel, not the bond itself.
The real bond lived in her now.
Evelyn exhaled slowly, her fingers curling slightly as the new weight of their essence settled within her.
The glow from the circle had faded, but the weight of its significance still lingered.
Evelyn turned to face the four spirits fully now. The wind tugged gently at the edges of her cloak as she t each of their gazes in turn.
She told them everything.
She began with herself. That she was Evelyn now—the first Princess of Cristiane now. A title that ant little to her in truth, but it offered a place to stand, a na to move under, and for now, that was enough.
Then she spoke of her true purpose.
She was building her own Guardians.
Each one of them—Inexperienced, yes—but each gifted beyond asure. Each one bore raw strength, fierce loyalty, or a deep, innate sense of justice. But raw power alone ant nothing. Without guidance, without purpose, it would burn out or be twisted into sothing cruel. Evelyn had seen it happen too many tis before.
She couldn’t allow that again.
She had tried—tried to teach them what she could. But she was still only a child in this world’s eyes. Her every word, every step, was watched. She couldn’t reveal too much, couldn’t risk drawing attention to the strange depth in her gaze or the unnatural insight in her hands. Too much guidance would stir suspicion.
She needed instructors.
Not just warriors. Not simple tutors from the palace. She needed beings who had shaped the world, who understood what power ant—and what responsibility cost.
The spirits remained silent at first, absorbing her words carefully.
Then Irfin scoffed, crossing his arms.
Irfin: "So, you want us to teach them."
Evelyn t his eyes without flinching.
Evelyn: "Although you are hot-headed. I suppose you can be a good instructor. All of you can. You’ve lived longer than empires, survived wars peoples have forgotten, and shaped magic before it had a na. That kind of knowledge... I can’t find it anywhere else."
There was no mockery in her voice. No charm, no manipulation. Just plain, steady truth. And in that, sothing sharper than any flattery.
She knew she had no right to ask this of them—not after the way she disappeared. But this wasn’t about her anymore.
Evelyn: "They need you."
Evelyn looked at each of them.
Evelyn: "Not just to beco stronger. But to beco sothing more."
None of the spirits spoke right away.
But their silence wasn’t resistance.
It was the kind that ca before a choice that mattered.
Then Irfin gave a short huff.
Irfin: "Well. If I have to babysit so hot-headed brat, they better not cry at the first burn."
Aeros (lazily looping overhead): "Ooh~ I want the wild one. The reckless one. The one who falls off a cliff and still laughs."
Neris (softly): "Well... if you believe in them that much, I suppose the least I can do is try to teach them."
Terra said nothing, but nodded once. Her approval was always quieter—but firr than stone.
Evelyn smiled—genuine. She knew they would agree. She was sure that even if the world turned its back on her, even if no one else trusted her, they would.
That’s just how stupid they were.
Loyal to a fault. Predictable in their stubbornness. Bound not just by the contract—but by sothing older, sothing deeper.
They always were.
She turned her gaze toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to rise, brushing gold against the frostbitten trees. The cold air bit at her skin, but she didn’t flinch. There was warmth inside her now—fourfold, fierce, and ancient.
This ti, she would not repeat the past.
This ti, she would build sothing that could endure even after she was no longer there.
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