Vulas sat in the dim quiet of his room, shoulders tense, eyes locked on nothing in particular. The sting of humiliation still clung to his skin like smoke.
"You look troubled, nephew."
The voice came smooth and low from somewhere behind him.
Vulas turned sharply, but only for a second. His expression broke into something lighter, almost relieved. "Uncle Kolvar."
An elven man stepped out of the shadows near the corner of the room, his presence unfolding like a slow breath. Kolvar didn't smile, but his sharp eyes gleamed with something close to amusement. Tall and composed, he wore a charcoal coat left open at the collar, silver streaking his dark hair like cracks through obsidian. His presence was quiet, but it carried weight, subtle, confident, unbothered.
"I heard you made quite the scene," he said, pouring himself a drink without asking. "What was it this time? A toast gone wrong? A lover's quarrel? Or did you simply insult the wrong people again?"
Vulas launched into it, anger spilling in sharp, bitter lines. "It was that girl. No one even blinked when she struck me, and then they threw me out like I was nothing. All of them ....."
Kolvar took a seat and listened without interrupting, letting the heat burn out of Vulas's words.
"I swear, I'll make them pay for this," Vulas growled. "They'll see."
Kolvar patted his shoulder. "How could my nephew suffer such insult," he said softly. "It's unacceptable. We'll answer it in kind."
Vulas met his eyes, breathing a little steadier now. There it was again, that quiet promise. The one person who never treated him like a disappointment.
Kolvar paused for a moment, gaze thoughtful. "But going to Hilchester Gorge isn't all bad. If you're smart about it, it might be your fastest path to the First Order."
Vulas's eyes lit up. "Really?"
But the spark faded just as quickly. His shoulders dropped. "But Hilchester Gorge is chaos. The terrain is unstable. The storms, unnatural. People vanish there, Uncle. It's not just wild beasts, there are things down there that remember you... things that shouldn't."
He hesitated. "It's not just dangerous. It's a death sentence if you're not careful."
Then his expression shifted. "Besides, I found someone. A girl with a pure divine attribute. If I can just use her, entering the First Order would be easy. No need to crawl through the Gorge."
Kolvar turned sharply. "What? Are you serious?"
Vulas nodded. "Yes." He explained briefly about Enira, and how everything that happened stemmed from her.
Kolvar thought for a moment. "This might be even better. If you enter First Order at the fastest pace in Hilchester Gorge, and then use that girl to reach Second Order, you'll advance quicker than anyone your age. It'll cut down years. You'll be a prodigy."
Vulas's eyes lit up again, the fear replaced with something closer to hunger.
Kolvar gave a small nod. "Don't worry. I'll make the arrangements for you there."
"Thank you, Uncle," Vulas said, voice warming. "You've always looked out for me, more than anyone else ever has."
Kolvar gave a low chuckle. "Haa... ha. Get ready. Things are about to move fast."
With Vulas gone, the room fell into stillness. Kolvar lingered by the window, gaze unfocused.
"Pure divine attribute…" he muttered, almost to himself. "That boy's luck is absurd. If only I had found her first... what a waste."
He exhaled through his nose, quiet and bitter.
Kolvar had once followed the same path. In fact, he was the one who had led Vulas down it, taught him, shaped his choices. Back then, Kolvar had searched everywhere for someone with the pure divine attribute. He never found it. In the end, he had to settle for a lower-tier version.
But now, even if he had it, it wouldn't help him. He'd moved past that point. There were other things he was after now.
Kolvar stepped back from the window and vanished. Shadows folded around him like smoke, and when they slipped away, he was elsewhere.
A quiet chamber lit by soft crystal panels, walls carved with faint geometric grooves that pulsed now and then with light. Two figures were already there, waiting.
The man was broad-shouldered, dressed in a layered storm-gray coat with dark bronze clasps down the front. A narrow blade hung low at his hip, partially hidden beneath the folds. His hair, a deep ocean blue, was tied back in a tight knot. Scaled ridges traced along his cheekbones and down to the edge of his jaw, catching the light in dull glints. His ears tapered back, finned and narrow, half-covered by the collar.
Beside him stood an elven woman, her gown a muted violet trimmed with narrow strips of polished glass that shimmered faintly when she moved. Her hair was pale cyan, cut to a medium length that framed her face cleanly, the strands shifting like silk when she turned. Her eyes held a quiet intensity, steady and watchful.
The man spoke first, voice low and even. "Any leads?"
Kolvar shook his head. "No. It's hard to pinpoint anything. There are too many people in Rulmose, too much movement. I even tried following Phyrra's boy toy, but nothing. No trail."
The man's eyes narrowed. "Are we even sure it's real?"
The woman exhaled sharply, and a thin ripple of pressure rolled across the room. "I don't care if it's real or not," she said, voice tight. "I just want revenge for my brother."
Kolvar's voice was calm. "Settle down, Anarzee. Veydris's death won't be in vain. We will find out what happened to him."
He looked between them. "Phyrra went to great lengths to erase every possible lead. But Veydris mentioned Rulmose before he left, that's all we have. We just need to keep digging until something cracks. That thread will lead us back to your brother."
In truth, Phyrra had wiped every trail for a reason. After the incident with Veydris, she didn't want anyone interfering again. Unlike the others, she knew exactly what the elves were capable of. Even if this was just some remote, backward planet, it was still unwise to act openly. Better to keep things quiet.
And she already knew where Myrra was. That was enough for now.
She was the one who had directed Carion, after all. Few in the Quiet Testament could recognize the Lord's Blood, even if it stood right in front of them. These three certainly couldn't.
The man spoke up. "What did Giullis say?"
Kolvar's gaze didn't shift. "He doesn't want to get involved."
"Seriously?" the man muttered. "It's the Lord's Blood. Not even a little tempted?"
"I couldn't read anything from him," Kolvar said flatly.
Anarzee scoffed. "Forget him. He's too busy licking that bitch Phyrra's boots."
Kolvar didn't react. "It doesn't matter. We can still use his youngest son."
The room went quiet. The man and Anarzee waited for him to go on.
"He should be ready soon," Kolvar said. "I'll be taking him to that place in Hilchester Gorge."
The man gave a small nod. "As you think best."
Anarzee stepped away. "You two do what you want. I'm going to Rulmose myself. I can't just sit here anymore."
Kolvar's voice turned firm. "Be careful. Rulmose isn't a place to stumble through. You won't even know how you died there."
She didn't answer. Just turned and walked away, sharp steps echoing softly, her gown hugging the curves of her hips as it moved.
Kolvar watched her go, eyes fixed on the smooth, silent motion of her retreating back.
The man beside him spoke gently. "She'll be fine. She's not foolish enough to drown herself in grief."
Kolvar was silent for a long moment. Then, quietly, "I hope you're right."
While that conversation was unfolding elsewhere, Ian was happily finishing his meal, unbothered and relaxed.
Just then, Eryndor approached them. He stopped beside Ian.
"Ian," he said, lowering his voice slightly, "Director Thessalia is looking for you."
Ian groaned but stood up, brushing crumbs from his hands. "Alright, alright." He left with a quiet sigh.
As he walked off, Myrra turned slightly. "Brother Eryndor, why don't you sit and eat with us?"
Eryndor glanced at Erina, then quickly looked away. He hesitated. "I still have some things to take care of. I'll join you another time."
Before Myrra could say more, he turned and walked off, catching up to Ian.
Myrra watched him go. "He seems really busy…"
Ian made his way through the quiet corridor toward Director Thessalia's meeting room, the same one they'd used before. He adjusted his coat, knocked once, then stepped inside.
Thessalia was already seated, reviewing something on a holograph. She looked up and offered a warm smile.
"Ian. Thank you for coming."
He nodded and stepped in. "Of course, Director."
She gestured to the seat across from her. "I just wanted to thank you properly. Your help was the reason this event went through smoothly."
Ian offered a polite smile. "I'm glad I could help."
She slid a small display across the table. "And as agreed, your compensation. Though I added a little more."
He opened it, eyes widening at the sum. "This is… more than generous."
"Fair," she said, simply. "And well-deserved."
She leaned back slightly. "Also, Master Malon saw your work firsthand, how you managed to stabilize the circuit arrangements that even he missed in hurry. He's very impressed."
Ian blinked. "Master Malon?"
"He's the one in charge of arcane systems at the museum. He'd like to meet with you. Possibly discuss further opportunities. If you're interested, I can set that up."
Ian didn't hesitate. "Yes. I'd be glad to."
Thessalia smiled again. "I thought you might say that. And, he's also an alumnus of Rulmose."
That caught Ian off guard, and his smile grew. "Really? That's… even better."
"Exactly." She continued, closing the projection in front of her. "I'll arrange something for the end of the week."
Then, her tone shifted, lighter, but laced with something unreadable.
"Also," she said, "there's someone else I'd like you to meet."
Before Ian could ask, there was a soft knock at the door.
Thessalia turned toward it. "Come in."
The door opened, and a man stepped in.
Ian blinked. For a second, he wasn't sure what he was seeing. Then it hit him.
Human. Actually human. It was the first time Ian had seen one in this world.
The man wore a high-collared coat of deep forest green, layered over a charcoal-gray tunic with subtle copper threading that caught the light when he moved. His dark trousers were tucked into polished boots, each movement smooth, efficient, deliberate.
Thessalia stood. "Ian, this is Lambert Crovan."
The man offered his hand, his smile polite but faintly curious. "It's a pleasure."
Ian took it, still watching him. "Likewise."
As their hands touched, Ian felt it, something subtle threading through his core. A presence scanning him, like a quiet pulse moving beneath the surface. Deep, precise. Not invasive. Just checking. He didn't mind.
They sat.
Lambert leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other. "Lady Thessalia has spoken quite well of you," he said. "Naturally, I was curious. It's not often we see someone like us walk through these doors."
Ian gave a small nod, still adjusting to the strangeness of this meeting. "I wasn't expecting to meet another human either."
They sat and talked a little longer, nothing important, just polite conversation. Lambert didn't ask about Ian's origins, but he did share a little about his own. Nothing too detailed, just enough to paint the picture. He was here to make acquaintance, that was clear. A quiet gesture of connection. Thessalia interjected now and then, guiding the flow of the discussion, keeping it light.
At one point, Lambert smiled faintly. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate. And if you find yourself in the federal capital, Fylsneas—let me know. We'll make sure you're well taken care of."
Ian smiled, nodding. "I'll keep that in mind."
They exchanged contacts, a few more parting words and with that Ian stood, offered a polite farewell, and stepped out.