The mory of the eting with Rethusa, Captain of the Artemis Familia, lingered in Draco’s mind…..a brief, vital encounter that had smoothed their return into the city.
He recalled the unexpected clarity in her gaze, a stark contrast to the grim, dust-choked haze during his conflict with Mors.
That those distant silhouettes he’d barely registered atop the city wall during the final, bruising monts of the fight belonged to the…..fad huntresses familia……was a surprising revelation.
After their swift exchange, the Artemis Familia had granted them passage, leading to this mont: the Bahamut Familia, depleted, wounded, and running on sheer adrenaline, finally arriving at their destination…..the Stardust Garden, ho of the now fallen Astraea Familia.
However, several people were missing from the initial group.
Not long after re-entering Orario, their patron goddess, Bahamut, and her companion, Aasterinian, had been approached by a ssenger from the Loki Familia.
The ssage demanded their imdiate presence at Babel tower for an ergency eting of the deities.
The agenda was twofold and critical: to discuss the volatile state of Orario following the recent chaos, and, more urgently, to address the brazen, unknown perpetrator of Astraea’s death.
With such an influential deity eliminated by an undetectable assailant in the city's heart, a chilling paranoia gripped the city.
Smaller familia’s feared their deities might be the next target, their sense of safety annihilated by the ease, and brazenness with which Astraea had been struck down.
Draco, as captain of the Bahamut Familia, also had a summons awaiting him: a planned evening eting involving the Guild and various Familia captains.
Despite the weariness that had settled deep into his bones, and the urgent mandate Aasterinian had given him…….a mandate tied directly to his continued existence……Draco refused to rest.
His imdiate priority was not his own failing health, but the status of the girls in the Astraea Familia.
They were friends, allies, and now, tragically, adrift.
He needed to offer them solace, yes, but also a future.
The Bahamut Familia, though triumphant in their recent trial, was threadbare and desperately needed to expand its numbers and its strength.
What better candidates were there than those they already trusted, those who understood the sacrifices of the familia life?
He intended to recruit them, but first, he had to break through their walls of grief.
Approaching the gate of Stardust Garden, an ornate but now somberly shadowed entrance, Draco paused.
Each muscle scread in protest, a dull, pervasive ache that spoke of deep, unmitigated trauma. He ignored it, gripping the cool tal handle of the front gate and slowly pushing it inward.
The gate responded with a protest of its own….a loud, piercing, rusty squeak that cut through the city's ambient noise, announcing their arrival.
It was not one of the Astraea girls who responded, but Eleni, who had gone with Clair alongside the grief-stricken familia.
The front door swung open, and when Eleni spotted the figures wading through the dusk-light, her face transford.
Relief and joy overwheld her earlier anxiety.
She bolted forward, clearing the distance between the porch and the gate in long, desperate strides.
“Draco-nii! Michalis, Dimitra, Nikolaos, Vasiliki, Vasileios!” Eleni called out, her voice thick with emotion, cycling through the nas of every mber of her familia, confirming their safety in a single, emotional rush.
“You are all fine! We were worried sick!”
Eleni and Clair, having left Edas Village shortly after the Loki and Astraea familia, had been plagued by uncertainty, the concern for their own kin eventually eclipsing even their worry for the fallen goddess’s followers.
Seeing them stand, battered but whole, confird their safety and brought a wave of blessed relief.
“We are glad to see you are okay, too,” Draco replied, managing a tired, strained smile as he gently pulled away from her embrace.
The lightness of the mont, however, was unsustainable.
His expression instantly tightened, folding into the serious, focused mask of a captain.
“How are the Astraea Familia girls doing? What is the situation inside?”
Eleni imdiately frowned, the joy leaching out of her features, replaced by a deep furrow of frustration and sorrow.
She took a long, steadying pause before answering.
“They are not good,” she finally admitted, her tone hushed.
“None of them want to speak. Ever since they arrived ho, everyone just split up, went to their rooms, and locked their doors.”
Eleni threw her hands up in a gesture of helpless exasperation.
“There’s been no response, no matter what Clair and I have done. They won’t eat, they won't drink, and they won't talk to anyone…not even each other.”
“Sigh. You cannot bla them, Eleni. They have every right to feel this way,” Draco explained, his voice softening with empathy.
“They have just lost the one person who gave them strength, who gave them purpose. Do not be angry at them.”
“I’m not mad at them, Draco-nii,” Eleni insisted, her fists clenching at her sides.
“I’m mad at myself because there seems to be absolutely nothing I can do to help.”
Nikolaos stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over the quiet, imposing house before asking the practical question that hung over them all.
“So what do we do now, Draco-nii?”
“We will stay here for a while,” Draco stated firmly, already planning his next move.
“I will try talking with them, one by one. You all need to rest up and get sothing to eat. You are spent.”
“Hai,” ca the chorus of tired agreent.
Draco took the first step over the threshold of the gate, intending to stride toward the front door, but the ground suddenly seed to tilt beneath him.
A sudden, sickening wooziness washed over him, a pressure building behind his eyes.
His legs, which monts before had carried him, felt unstable and weak, like columns of crumbling sand.
Driven by pure instinct, his dragon-like tail snapped out on reflex, wrapping tightly around the wrought iron fence post, anchoring him to the spot.
The move was subtle, but the sudden, desperate lurch of his body was not.
“Draco-nii!” Michalis, Eleni, Nikolaos, Dimitra, Vasileios, and Vasiliki yelled in unison, their voices sharp with alarm as they rushed forward to stabilize him.
Even Clair, who had been hovering near the doorway inside, ran out, concern etched deep into her features, demanding to know the source of the sudden clamor.
“You all need to calm down,” Draco managed, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, straightening quickly and pulling his tail back, trying to project an air of normalcy he did not feel.
The internal pain was a throbbing, white-hot coal in his core.
“I am just… a bit overly tired.”
“B-but, what Lady Aasterinian said…” Vasiliki began, her voice trembling, her eyes wide with fear.
Draco cut her off, his tone firm, bordering on stern.
“I am just tired, and I haven’t fully recovered from my injuries. I am not dying.”
“Eh? Who is this Lady Aasterinian?” Clair interjected, confusion mixing with her worry.
“Yes, and what is this frantic talk about dying?” Eleni added, demanding clarification.
Draco suppressed a deep sigh, realizing he just made things worse.
He briefly, clinically, and emotionlessly recounted the terrifying diagnosis Aasterinian had delivered…..the severity of his internal situation, so which were innate, and others worsened by the prolonged, reckless and excessive use of his powers.
Eleni and Clair stood motionless, absorbing the revelation.
The relief of finding him alive was instantly replaced by the icy dread of his impending doom.
“What!” both Clair and Eleni exclaid in shock, the reality of his condition crashing down on them.
Clair’s composure fractured first.
Her breathing beca shallow and fast.
“W-we need to leave right now! As soon as possible! Lady Aasterinian said she can fix you, right? We need to hurry!” She stamred, bordering on a full panic attack.
“Clair, breathe,” Draco instructed softly, placing both hands firmly on her shoulders, the grounding pressure overriding her hysteria.
Taking in slow, deep breaths, Clair managed to regain control, her fear still visible in her eyes.
“Now, everyone listen closely,” Draco commanded, ensuring his voice carried the necessary weight.
“I said I am fine for now. Stop worrying unnecessarily. As for leaving Orario, that will happen after I get our familia sorted out. Right now, everything is a ss….from our finances to our ho situation. I cannot simply vanish.”
His expression hardened, becoming cold and strategic.
As he spoke, his gaze drifted past Clair, catching a flicker of movent from the darkened windows of the house.
Eavesdroppers.
The Bahamut Familia, though loud and distressed, had unintentionally served a purpose: they had drawn out the residents.
Several Astraea Familia girls were clearly peeking out, unable to ignore the commotion on their silent doorstep.
Draco’s eyes locked onto one window upstairs.
Peering barely past the edge of a lace curtain was the familiar, gaze of Alise Lovell, the captain, the fiery heart of the Astraea Familia.
She needed to know they were here, and she needed to see his resolve.
Draco pulled his hand from Clair’s shoulder and offered a simple, deliberate wave toward the upstairs window.
In an instant, the spell was broken.
Alise closed the curtain with a decisive, silent snap, disappearing back into the comforting darkness of her grief-stricken room.
Draco was not the only one who observed this brief interaction.
Michalis, Nikolaos, Dimitra, Vasileios, and Vasiliki, who were all facing the building, also witnessed the abrupt retreat.
It was a small sign…a tremor in the wall of silence….but a sign nonetheless.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Draco continued, returning his attention to his familia, his voice now gentle but firm.
“You all should get sothing to eat and rest. Do what you need to do to recover. Alright?”
“Hmm,” everyone agreed, subdued but obedient.
With that temporary resolution secured, Draco began heading toward the front door.
He was going to start his mission: talking to each mber individually.
He would begin with Alise.
She was the lynchpin; if he could reach her, the others might follow.
However, before he reached the stone steps leading to the porch, Michalis stopped him, calling out awkwardly.
“Draco-nii, wait,” he called out.
Draco turned, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling the fatigue finally starting to chew through his willpower.
“What is it, Michalis? Speak plainly.”
“Well, uhm…” Michalis struggled, glancing around nervously.
“We don’t have any money. So how and where exactly do we get food?”
A collective, echoing gasp rippled through the remaining mbers of the Bahamut Familia.
The logistics of survival, entirely overshadowed by the recent battles and the imdiate emotional crises, hit them with sudden force.
The harsh reality of life without money.
Draco pulled his hair back, realizing the grievous oversight.
His focus had been so intensely fixed on the strategic and the physical, he had neglected the basic administrative needs of his familia.
“Ah…” he muttered.
“Sorry about that. You are entirely correct.”
He then raised his voice, projecting it clearly toward the silent, imposing house, ensuring that any listening ears upstairs, particularly Alise’s, would hear his every word.
“As for where to get food,” Draco announced loudly, his tone polite but firm.
“I am sure that our friends of the Astraea Familia won’t mind if we borrowed so supplies from their kitchen. We will, of course, reimburse them fully once we regain our bearings”
He paused, waiting.
The silence from the upper floors was total, but the curtains remained closed.
“You heard them,” Draco said, satisfied with the non-verbal permission, or at least the lack of refusal.
“Go grab so food, secure so space, and rest. We have a long day ahead.”
“But they didn’t say anything,” Michalis grumbled under his breath, though he was already walking toward the entrance, his stomach overriding his skepticism.
The others followed suit, eager for the safety and sustenance promised within.
‘Looks like I will have to ask the Guild for so upfront paynt during the eting this evening,’ Draco mused, the financial pressure adding yet another layer to his responsibilities.
He took a final, deep breath, preparing to follow his familia into the ho of the grieving.
The silence of Stardust Garden was deafening, a vacuum where joy and laughter used to reside. It felt less like a ho and more like an elaborate, self-imposed tomb.
A/N: Refer to chapter 205 to rember why the Bahamut familia is broke !
Feel free to read ahead on pat3on, donate and read 1 extra chapter as a free mber.
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