The trail led upstairs, toward the castle tower—her old bedroom. Just then, a figure erged, descending the staircase unsteadily. An old man, appearing to be in his mid-sixties, with a head of white hair, stumbled down. His face was flushed red from drink, and he was clad in nothing but a bathrobe. He had only one arm; his left was missing.
It was Henry Pembroke.
The once-elegant and disciplined butler was a shadow of his forr self.
"Lady Envy…" he muttered reflexively, his voice thick with disbelief. His eyes widened as he stared at her.
"I've co back to retrieve sothing I forgot," Envy said, her face devoid of emotion. There was no trace of hatred or anger—her expression was utterly indifferent. To her, the man who had once betrayed her, Henry, was nothing more than a roadside pebble, unworthy of any feeling or acknowledgnt.
She walked toward the staircase where Henry had descended, completely ignoring the conflicted expression on his face. As she passed him, it was as if he were invisible—a re obstruction she barely noticed.
"Lady Envy! I…" Henry began, his voice trembling as he tried to call out to her. But she didn't stop. Without so much as a glance back, her figure disappeared beyond the angle of the staircase, vanishing from his sight.
Envy's mind remained calm. She truly felt no anger or hatred toward Henry. In truth, she blad only herself for her own naïve stupidity. She had assud he could handle her decision to move on from her first love, rlin, and pursue soone who intrigued her more deeply—Daniel.
She had believed that Henry could accept her decision, maintaining their bond as master and servant or even as friends, without further complications. After all, so much ti had passed, and Henry, as a mage, was nearing the end of his lifespan. She thought he had co to terms with it by now. But she had been wrong—terribly wrong. She had been too trusting, too naïve.
Henry had betrayed her out of spite, seeking revenge. That betrayal had cost her dearly. She'd been forced to reveal magical phenona to the world, inadvertently causing the Hightower to lose much of its influence. In the end, she had barely escaped, reduced to preserving only her soul.
Envy pushed these mories to the back of her mind as she entered what was once her room. It had changed. While many of her belongings were still in place, the wrinkled and creased bed sheets suggested it had been slept in repeatedly.
She ignored the disarray and approached a large, human-sized silver mirror. Its surface glead unnaturally, untouched by the passage of ti. The enchantnt she had placed on it kept its reflection pristine—almost indistinguishable from modern glass mirrors.
Muttering a spell in ancient Latin, she activated the mirror. The surface began to ripple, as though the silver had turned to liquid, shifting and undulating like water disturbed by a water bug. The mirror reflected not the room she stood in but an entirely different scene.
The scene of a moonlit lake, its tranquil surface shimring under the soft glow of the moon, with a charming gazebo situated on a small isle at its center.
Without hesitation, Envy stepped into the mirror, disappearing into its silvery depths.
"Lady Envy!" Henry's panicked voice echoed as he ran into the room, just in ti to see her vanish into the enchanted mirror.
After Envy disappeared into the mirror, Henry walked toward it and stopped to examine its surface. The once-fluid reflection had solidified, returning to its normal state, as if the otherworldly scene he had witnessed monts ago was nothing but a fleeting dream. He attempted to pull the mirror away from the wall, but it wouldn't budge. The fra was firmly embedded, and he could sense enchantnts preventing any attempt to remove it.
Panting heavily, exhaustion began to take its toll. He sank onto the bed, staring listlessly at the mirror. His heart ached as though it had been repeatedly stabbed and torn apart. The pain of being ignored by Envy was far worse than any reprimand or curse she could have hurled at him. He would have preferred her anger—even her hatred—over this…. cold… indifference.
It felt as if all the feelings she had once harbored for him had evaporated, leaving nothing behind. He might as well have been invisible, nonexistent.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
A series of sharp knocks echoed from the lower floor, interrupting his thoughts. Startled, Henry stood and made his way downstairs to see who could be visiting at such a ti.
—
Within the space inside the silver mirror, Envy walked toward the gazebo. In one corner, two items were protected by a heavy shielding spell powered by her own blood, etched into the ground to maintain the barrier's strength.
The first item was a long staff, crafted from an unknown wood, its head encasing a strange blue mana light floating within a root-like cage. The light wasn't rely decorative; it emanated from a purified mana gem capable of enhancing spells severalfold. The second was a wooden box adorned with intricate designs.
Murmuring an incantation, Envy dispelled the protective shield surrounding the items. She reached out, gently touching the staff with care, her expression tinged with lancholy. Her eyes reflected a mixture of sadness, disappointnt, and heartbreak.
Then, she opened the box. Inside lay a blue robe, faintly emitting the musty scent of aged fabric. Though old, its vibrant color remained preserved by an enchantnt so potent that even Envy herself didn't fully understand its origins.
"rlin…" she whispered, clutching the robe and the staff tightly to her chest. mories she thought she had buried surfaced with startling clarity.
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She rembered the strong hand that helped her when she stumbled during her desperate escape from those who hunted her. She recalled the fading figure who had taught her advanced and powerful spells—spells that beca the foundation of her strength to this day.
She also rembered giving her heart, body, and soul to that fading figure, whispering sweet nothings in monts of intimacy. A single tear glistened as it rolled down her delicate cheek. She still missed him, even after more than a thousand years. It had been so long—too long for her.
"Why did you lie to , rlin?" she murmured, gazing at the robe and the staff one last ti. "You promised you'd co back to …"
After a lingering mont, Envy places the staff in the sa place and places the robe hanging on the staff. Not keeping it in the box.
"Goodbye… rlin. I need to move on… and… thank you… for everything," she murmured softly before stepping out of the mirror's space.
Outside the mirror, she returned to the room. There was nothing left for her here anymore. Though this very place, the castle built upon this ground, was where she had once lived with rlin, her first love—those were the tis when she felt most alive, when she was truly happy. But now… there was nothing left for her.
She placed her hand on the silver mirror, her expression tinged with lancholy and deep nostalgia. For a brief mont, her eyes betrayed a flicker of longing before hardening with determination.
Mana surged from her dainty fingers, flowing into the mirror. The surface rippled violently as if under imnse pressure. The mirror began to distort and collapse, its once-pristine form crumpling under the weight of her magic. The portions embedded deep within the wall broke free, crumbling into dust as the mirror slowly disintegrated.
The space within the mirror dissolved entirely. The gazebo, the staff, and the robe—all vanished into the void, lost to the sea of nothingness, slipping forever beyond the bounds of reality.
Two tears rolled down her cheeks as her heart felt the ache of loss. Yet… a part of that weight was lifted. In the place where the sorrow had lingered, she felt a sense of relief. Now, she could truly accept the truth—the reality that rlin was forever gone and would never return to her. It was ti to embrace her future, the life she would build with her new love, Daniel.
At that mont, a sudden mana fluctuation drew her attention. It was coming from the courtyard outside. Soone was fighting there!
Envy rushed down from the tower to the first floor and stepped into the courtyard outside. There, she noticed several figures surrounding a one-ard man—Harry Pembroke. The figures were mages, dressed in a mix of luxurious suits, jackets, and windbreakers, the kind of clothing that could only be found in high-end brand stores.
Among them stood a man in a robe, his face obscured by a wooden owl mask. He appeared to be the leader of the group, as the others frequently glanced at him, seemingly seeking directives.
"Mr. Pembroke, this is the last ti we're asking: where is rlin's heritage?" the man in the owl mask demanded. He produced an old notebook from his inner pocket and held it up. "I know Lady Envy kept it here. You might not know the exact location, but tell —where are the most likely places she could have hidden it?"
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