The chopper ride was nothing short of exhilarating. It felt as if gravity had montarily vanished, and my body seed lighter, soaring through the vast expanse of the sky like a bird. The panoramic view, a tapestry of shimring coastline giving way to the vast ocean, was utterly breathtaking. It was undeniably loud and scary, with intense vibrations rattling through the very core of my being, but it was also, surprisingly, infinitely more fun than I had ever dared to imagine.
Just as I was thoroughly imrsed in my own world of aerial wonder, the thirty-minute ride ca to its end. We descended, gracefully, onto the island exactly as he had stated. My initial ntal sketch of a tiny, tree-dotted islet with a quaint mansion was brutally, spectacularly mistaken. The island was vast, a verdant jewel rising majestically from the sea, and the mansion—the focal point of this colossal landmass—was gigantic, an architectural behemoth that dwarfed the landscape. I was reminded once again, with a familiar pang, of our stark differences, of how truly minuscule I was in comparison to Levi’s impossibly grand scale of existence.
To prevent myself from spiraling into another abyss of self-deprecating thoughts, I clapped my hands sharply. As the chopper’s rotors began to slow, Levi leaned close, his presence a sudden, warm weight beside , and carefully lifted the heavy headphones from my ears. The world outside rushed back in, a symphony of natural sounds now muted. He placed both our headphones carefully inside the aircraft’s cabin. "Following our repast," he stated, his voice calm and precise, "I would like to engage in a brief stroll to a particular locale."
“Alone?” I questioned, the word escaping my lips before I could properly censure it, a silent, desperate prayer echoing within that the answer would be negative.
"No, in shared company. It constitutes my chosen thod for rendering certain aspects of my person more comprehensible to you."
Levi’s stated intention for to visit wherever he deed fit, was, truthfully, irrelevant. What mattered, what ward , was the unexpected appreciation for his prior communication, the fact that he had actually inford this ti.
As we began the walk towards the imposing mansion, a butler, stiff and impeccably uniford, erged from the grand entrance, approaching us with a gait of practiced reverence. He executed a deep, almost theatrical bow before Levi, his head lowered in deference, but not before delivering a quick, assessing glance in my direction. “The Lady awaits your presence in the dining room, Master,” he intoned, his voice precise and deferential, yet underscored by a subtle undercurrent of sothing that I instinctively perceived as disapproval, a hint of resentnt, perhaps.
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It imdiately made wonder: who leaves his own mother stranded on an entire island? And the bigger question: who owns an entire island?
Levi does, apparently.
He dismissed the butler with a flick of his wrist. Once the butler had retreated, Levi, to my surprise, extended his arm to , his hand waiting for mine to intertwine with his. He was a little touchy today, and despite my initial bewildernt, I didn't mind it at all. My fingers instinctively wrapped around his forearm, locking our arms together, a strange, electric current passing. The walk to the mansion, though short, was utterly silent, the only sound the crunch of our shoes on the gravel path. Yet, for , the tension was rising with every deliberate step.
Two gigantic, ornate wooden doors, carved with intricate, swirling patterns, swung open silently before us. As we entered the cavernous hall, the mansion’s entire staff—a long, impressive line of people—stood rigidly at attention, bowing in synchronized reverence as we passed. Although I vaguely appreciated the respectful gesture, I felt a bit out of place. This deep, almost worshipful bowing was a bad habit, a ritual that made feel profoundly uncomfortable, almost sick.
I wasn’t sure what Levi was feeling about this display. His face was, as always, a blank, unreadable canvas, devoid of expression. As we continued our silent procession down the endless hall, I started studying his profile, searching for any tell-tale sign. He didn't even grant a passing glance to the bowing workers. He was, after all, a noble man, born into this world of inherited deference. He had spent his entire life, thirty years, with this very treatnt, this constant obeisance.
At the very end of the hall, another imposing, intricately carved door stood, awaiting our approach. Levi paused, his voice low and precise, "This particular chamber serves as the dining room. My mother's appellation is, I daresay, inconsequential to your understanding, though for your information, it is 'Cybil'. I sincerely hope you can discern the inherent irony."
Oh. His mother’s na. Cybil. It ant prophetess.
Levi then raised his hand and knocked, a sharp rap on the heavy wooden door, waiting for the unseen servants within to open it for us.
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