The woman’s eyes flickered erratically, her tone nearly unhinged as she stamred, "He was fighting a giant spider? Why? He was supposed to be the kind of man who’d spend his entire life brooding in his chambers! Why was he moving? Why was he out there?"
Her voice beca a series of jumbled, incoherent murmurs. Her form began to waver, flickering like a candle’s fla in a gust of wind, as if she might vanish altogether.
Tauriel furrowed her brows in confusion. The woman had appeared bound to her fate, as though they were intrinsically linked. Yet her concern, her panic—it was all centered around Einar Sanguis.
"Why do you care so much about him?" Tauriel asked quietly. "Are you... connected to him sohow? Do you know him?"
The woman froze mid-flicker. Her wild mutterings halted, and she exhaled a long breath as if the question had grounded her. "Don’t worry," she mumbled, half to herself. "He’s fine. He’s okay. That’s all that matters."
She then looked directly at Tauriel, her expression a strange mix of sheepishness and lancholy. "Yeah, you could say I know him. Very deeply."
Tauriel gave her a slow nod, she wholeheartedly ignored the ’deeply’ emphasis. "If you say so..." she replied, then added, "By the way, the maids said he was an imposter. The one who invited ."
The woman imdiately snapped to attention. Her floating form leaned in, eyes narrowed. "Imposter? How so?"
"I don’t know the details," Tauriel admitted with a shrug. "But they said the Einar I t had replaced the real one. Then, when he left for so ergency mission in Duskholm, the original returned."
A storm cloud passed over the woman’s expression. Her brows knit tighter with each word. "He was replaced that easily? That doesn’t make sense. The Sanguis line never leaves its children unguarded. There are always safeguards. Always."
Tauriel’s patience was thinning. Her voice sharpened. "Then how do you explain his mory loss? He didn’t rember —he didn’t even rember inviting to the castle."
The woman didn’t reply. She was now absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, her mind clearly elsewhere. "He invited you himself...?" she muttered.
Tauriel let out an exasperated sigh. "Why are you so obsessed with that fact? He doesn’t rember . That’s the issue."
The woman clicked her tongue, irritated. "Whatever. None of that matters right now. What matters is this—harnessing your aether. That’s your focus."
Tauriel crossed her arms. "Yeah? And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
The woman’s expression twisted, sothing akin to sadness creeping into her tone. Still hovering above the earth, she leaned forward. "The reason you can’t harness it is because you’ve never tried. Close your eyes. Feel the fluctuations of the world around you. Feel the rhythm of life."
She reached out and gently clasped Tauriel’s hand in her own. Her voice turned soft and patient. "You’ll sense a strangeness, like sothing out of place. Like a puzzle piece that doesn’t belong. That is your aether. Recognize it. Follow it."
She hovered backward again, eyes drifting to the distant stars. "Once you feel it, imagine you’re in a maze. The aether is you, lost within it. Now find a way through. Navigate that maze until you are free. That’s how you harness it. That’s the conduit to power."
Her tone turned almost dreamy, euphoric even. Tauriel noted the look in her eyes—it was more than passion. It bordered on obsession.
Still, she nodded, doing her best to commit every word to mory. The concept was abstract and strange, but sothing about it rang true. She just had to isolate the anomaly within her surroundings—follow the strange rhythm.
So, Tauriel sat at the base of a tree. Hours trickled by as she imrsed herself in concentration. Silence enveloped the woods save for the occasional whisper of wind.
Above her, the woman floated in a loop of her own thoughts.
’What happened to Einar?’ she mused, turning lazily in the air. ’He never left the castle until the banquet in the previous tiline... So what changed? Why did he go out?’
She paused, eyes narrowing.
’It must be this whole issue with the fake and real Einars. Sothing’s wrong. I need to find out which one’s real.’
Just as she began to drift toward the looming castle in the distance—
"I did it! I finally did it!"
Tauriel’s triumphant voice shattered the silence.
The woman snapped her gaze downward, eyes widening with delight. Below, Tauriel wore a brilliant grin, her cheeks flushed with joy.
A soft smile crossed the woman’s face. ’I’m a genius, after all.’
She descended with elegance, approaching as Tauriel leapt to her feet—
And imdiately fell flat on her face with a loud plop.
The fall tore open her wounds again, sending fresh blood spurting from her legs. Tauriel groaned, writhing in pain.
The woman sighed and facepald. "The blood had clotted. You just reopened it. Are you stupid?"
Tauriel only grinned, teeth gleaming. "I did it. I can feel the aether."
A proud smile curled on the woman’s lips. "Then let’s move on. The next step is to harness it. Now that you’ve located your aether, guide it through the maze. Observe how it behaves. That’s your affinity—your natural alignnt with aether. Work with it, not against it."
Tauriel nodded seriously. She extended her hands, eyes closing in focus. She envisioned herself within the maze again—her aether struggling to escape. It was disorienting at first, the pathways shifting and twisting. But gradually, she learned. One thread found its way through, then another. Then hundreds.
Tiny orbs began to form—pinkish, soft, and glowing with an uncanny light. They floated around her fingertips like dandelion seeds caught in a spring breeze.
The orbs gathered into one larger sphere, srizing in its beauty but carrying an ominous edge.
The orb shot forward and slamd into the ork’s face. His eyes clouded over, turning the sa unnatural pink. He blinked slowly—no longer himself.
Then, Tauriel’s voice rang out, fierce and instinctual.
"Kill yourself."
The ork rose from his kneeling posture, towering over the two of them like a beast awakened. His fingers wrapped around his own neck—
SPLAT.
Green blood erupted from the wound as he tore his own throat open. His body dropped to the ground with a thunderous THUD, twitching once before lying still.
A pink orb lifted from the corpse and floated into Tauriel’s chest, rging with her essence.
Imdiately, her injuries began to heal. Skin stitched together, vitality surged through her veins, and her already striking features seed to glow with newfound allure.
The woman clapped her hands, her eyes glimring. "That’s your affinity... Love."
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