The moment my question left my lips, the air between us grew heavier, thick with something unspoken. Sindarin's usual calm demeanour shifted—her silver eyes darkened, her fingers stilled against the rim of her cup. Yet my face betrayed nothing. I kept my gaze locked onto hers, unflinching.
She's reacting.
"As you know, my name is Sindarin," she said slowly, her voice smooth but edged with something new. "And you can see my ears—I am an elf." She tilted her head, letting the candlelight catch the elegant points of her ears. They twitched once, as if irritated.
A beat of silence. The fire crackled between us.
"I was born with… special eyes," I admitted, narrowing them slightly as I studied her. The usual auras of mortals—flickering shades of ambition, kindness, greed—were absent around her. Instead, she was wrapped in something… other. "I can see the nature of people—good, evil, and everything in between. But yours…" I leaned forward. "Among the crowd, you were the only one who stood out."
Noting the only thing I saw from her.
Sindarin's stern mask fractured. For a heartbeat, surprise flickered across her face—then, slowly, her lips curled into a knowing smile.
"I see," she murmured. "No lies in your words." Her fingers tapped the table once. "Before I answer, tell me my lord guess."
'No lies? She can sense truth?'
A realization sharpened in my mind. One possibility now loomed larger than the others.
"At first," I began carefully, "I thought you might be a goddess. But the gods are forbidden from dwelling in elven lands. And I've studied them—none are described with elven traits." My pulse quickened. "That leaves only one option: you're a spirit. My suspicion started with the Grimoires you gave me."
Silence.
Then—Sindarin's silver hair began to glow, strands of moonlight weaving through the dark. A soft, melodic laugh escaped her.
"Fufu~ as expected for the one our queen laid eyes on."
'Queen?'
Her smile deepened. "No need to rush things, lord Oberon. Your questions will be answered. You'll I am not the one meant to tell everything. I am here to make connection with lord Oberon."
With effortless grace, she rose from her seat.
"For an elf, you're in such a hurry my lord." Her voice carried a teasing lilt, but her eyes—her eyes were piercing. "It reminds me of… humans."
My blood turned to ice.
Gulp.
'I need to be more careful.'
====x====
The night with Sindarin left a chill that no fire could thaw.
I avoided her after that. Every time those violet eyes found mine, my skin crawled—not with fear, but with the terrible certainty that she could see through me. Peeling back layers I'd carefully constructed.
Thankfully she spend most of her time either with Mother or Laffey. Sometime she shoot a gaze toward me that alone send shiver
My throat went dry seeing the constant gaze of the girl with silver hair.
Aunt Hyrmr swept me into her lap like I weighed nothing. Her arms locked around me—protective, possessive—and her soft curves pressed warm against my back. But there was nothing soft about her next words.
"Your mana..." She hummed against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Is fast for your age my little Oberon."
My heart hammered against my ribs. Not everything—she couldn't know everything—but enough. She'd sensed my control, the unnatural precision of a child who shouldn't be able to hold a candle flame steady, let alone command raw power.
'Calm. I needed to calm.'
"I'm still learning theory," I said, proud of how steady my voice came out.
"Theory?" Her fingers traced idle patterns across my shoulder, light as spider silk. "What part confuses you? Tell me everything."
The invitation hung between us—a trap dressed as kindness.
I chose my words like stepping stones across a river of glass. "Magic circles. I understand the structure, the patterns..." A careful pause. "But I feel like they could be simplified."
Hyrmr's grip tightened, fingers digging in just slightly.
"Hoh?" Her voice sharpened with interest. "That's a dangerous observation. And a sharp one." She leaned in closer, breath warm against my ear, and I felt the weight of centuries in her whisper.
"Think of a magic circle like a bow. Every part—the string, the stabilizer, the limbs—exists for a reason. Remove one, and the whole thing collapses. Or worse..." Her nails traced down my shoulder.
"The arrow flies wild. And you never know who it will strike. Tried not to get confused the different between a magic and spirit magic Oberon."
A full-body shiver rattled through me. "That... makes sense." I swallowed hard. "No wonder Mother forbade me from testing my idea."
"Fufu~" Her laughter bubbled up, warm and rich, but there was an edge beneath it. "Viska thinks she can protect you by keeping you small. But I can tell..." Her lips brushed my temple. "You're ready."
Was I? Or was this a test—another trap to see how deep the waters truly ran?
"I think I'll wait," I said finally, pulling away just enough to meet her gaze. "I'm only five, Aunty. I'll take it step by step."
She sighed, ruffling my hair with something like pride. "Wise beyond your years." A pause. "Is there anything else you want to know, Oberon? Anything at all?"
I hesitated, then asked the question that had been burning in my chest.
"Spirits. What do you know about them?"
For the first time, Hyrmr went completely still.
"The spirits..." She seemed to choose her words like a jeweler selecting gems. "They are our ancient allies. Bound to us through contracts made by our ancestors. In exchange for their power, we wield spirit magic." Her voice dropped to something almost reverent. "They draw their strength from the sacred trees—bridges between their realm and ours. Without those trees, the connection withers. Without the connection..." She shook her head. "We are nothing."
"My family made contracts with spirits, right, Aunty?"
"Yes." Her smile carried generations of weight. "And when you have children, they will inherit the same pact. Your father will teach you to harness the power of Wishe when the time comes. But not yet. Not until you're ready."
====x====
For two days, Aunt Hyrmr shared secrets that turned my understanding of magic inside out. Practical techniques Mother had never taught me. Theory that made my head spin. Knowledge that felt dangerous—like handling a blade by its edge.
Every lesson left me breathless.
Every lesson left me wanting more.
On the third morning, they left.
Hyrmr pressed a worn leather-bound book into my hands, its spine cracked with age and use. "Study this. The spells inside will serve you well."
"I will." I clutched it like a lifeline.
Mother stood beside me, her face a careful mask of calm. But I caught the tremor in her voice. "Safe travels, Sister."
"Of course." Hyrmr's smirk was infuriatingly familiar. "Though King Larfal is still furious you let Princess Riveria slip away."
Mother's jaw tightened. "Send him my deepest apologies."
"I'll try." The words dripped with amusement.
Then Hyrmr knelt before me, pulling me into one final embrace. Her arms were warm, her scent like wood smoke and honey.
"Strength matters, Oberon." Her voice softened to something almost fragile. "But you're still a child. Make friends. Cherish the memories. They'll matter more than any power you'll ever hold."
"I'll remember."
And then—Sindarin.
Her violet eyes locked onto mine, and every muscle in my body went rigid. That gaze. That terrible gaze. Like she could strip me bare and read the secrets written on my soul.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Viska." She bowed, graceful as a blade's edge.
Mother returned the gesture. "You're always welcome here."
Sindarin's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She turned to me, and the weight of her attention pressed down like drowning.
"Young Lord Oberon..." Her voice purred with hidden meanings. "Stay on this path. It will lead to greatness." A pause stretched between us, heavy as iron. "I'll await your visit."
The challenge hung in the air—a promise, a threat, a question I couldn't answer.
The carriage rolled away, wheels crunching against gravel, taking them out of sight and out of my life.
Mother's hand settled on my shoulder, warm and grounding.
"Now then, Oberon..." She squeezed gently. "Shall we continue your class?"
I looked down at the book in my hands. At the secrets it held. At the path stretching before me, dark and uncertain.
"Yes, Mother." I raised my head, meeting her eyes. "Let's begin."
And deep in my chest, something ancient stirred—waiting.
====x====
"Lady Sindarin, we'll rest here for the night. There's a small river just beyond those trees—fresh water, I will prepare the camp." Hyrmr's voice was rough from the road, but his eyes held steady concern.
Sindarin nodded, her silver-threaded cloak whispering against the forest's deepening shadows. "Thank you, Hyrmr. I'll return shortly."
The river called to her—not in words, but in the quiet pull of something older. The moment she stepped between the gnarled oaks, the air changed. The water gleamed like liquid glass, so clear she could count the pebbles beneath its surface. Kneeling at the bank, she let her fingertips graze the current—cold, alive.
Bloop!
A single ripple. Then—
The river erupted. Water surged upward in a twisting spire, taller than two men, before collapsing into a shimmering, humanoid shape. Its hollow eyes locked onto hers, and the voice that came was the rush of a thousand streams:
Sindarin start to speak toward a figure made of water for almost half an hour.
The figure bowed, its form trembling with unseen currents, before dissolving back into the river—leaving only silence, and the unshakable weight of destiny.
====x====
Midnight in Wishe Forest was not a time of silence, but of symphony. A hypnotic melody, woven from the chirrups and calls of unseen creatures, pulsed through the ancient trees like living magic. It was a sound that could lull a soul to sleep, but for me, it was a call to wakefulness.
My eyes opened, not with a start, but with a slow, deliberate focus. The last threads of dreams fell away as I pushed myself up, my small frame feeling both fragile and electric with anticipation. My attire was simple: a soft white shirt and long linen pants, over which I threw a heavy black cloak that swallowed my silhouette whole.
Then, I reached for my bag. It was almost comically large, nearly my own size, but a whispered chant of gravity magic made it as light as a pillow in my arms. A necessary enchantment for the treasures it held.
With a deep, steadying breath, I slipped through my open window. Instead of falling, I floated, a feather caught on a gentle downdraft, until I landed silently on the windowsill next to mine. Inside, I saw them—my mother, and just below, Laffey—both lost in blissful sleep. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. Good. They were safe. They were unaware.
Pushing off again, I flew north, towards the great dome that encased our home. Its shimmering barrier hummed with protective energy, designed to sense any disturbance. But I was no intruder.
At the northern edge stood a weathered stone statue, its features softened by time. I placed a hand on its cold shoulder and whispered the words that were my key,
"Yvie pyre Narayana I casita anode." The barrier rippled, accepting me, and I passed through without a single alarm.
The moment my feet touched the earth outside, the world changed. The air itself felt wilder, freer. I cast the gravity magic once more, not to lessen a weight, but to reject it entirely. Then, with a burst of wind erupting from my boots, I launched myself into the sky.
"Hahahaha!" I laugh freely flied above the night sky.
I was a bird that had finally found the open door of its gilded cage. The familiar, comforting pines of Wishe Forest shrank to a dark carpet below. This was more than flight; it was a silent, soaring dance through a kingdom of clouds and starlight.
====x====
My destination rose from the land below: a solitary hill, its crown littered with the broken bones of a forgotten city. History whispered that this was once a famed mining metropolis from the Dark Ages, an era before the gods. Now, it was a tombstone, and its residents were the things that crawled in the dark.
As I descended towards a flat stretch of land, I felt them. A surge of magical current burst from me, a pulse expanding over half a kilometer.
{Radar}
Life flickered into my mind's eye, a constellation of hostile intent.
Ten... twelve... almost sixty. No wonder the locals gave this place a wide berth.
My feet touched the ground. I knelt, pressing my palm to the cold, unyielding soil and cast a spell of my own design, crafted for moments like this.
{Tremor}
A subtle vibration rippled through the earth, a seismic whisper. And there—a hollow echo. A wall where there should be none.
'Found it.'
As if on cue, a guttural roar shattered the silence. One, then another, and another—an alarm ringing through the ruins. The horde was stirring. I didn't even turn. As I walked calmly towards a mound of rubble, the very air around me thickened and condensed into dozens of sharp, earthen bullets, each one hovering with lethal intent.
"Erasing them all might encourage future explorers…" I mused, the sound of scraping claws and pounding feet growing louder. "A shame. Then I suppose I'll just have them… stay for a while."
Decision made. The air around me plummeted into a deep freeze, a dense, frigid fog boiling outwards. The charging monsters, the moment they crossed into my domain, slowed. Their furious charge became a sluggish stumble, then rigid stillness. A glittering layer of ice crystallized over their bodies, crawling up their legs, over their torsos… and stopping precisely at the base of their skulls.
Bang!
Bang!
Two earthen bullets took flight, striking the frozen heads of the nearest beasts.
Boom!
Boom!
They didn't just die; they shattered, exploding into plumes of dark dust and leaving behind faintly glowing purple crystals.
"So, they do explode and drop items. Just like a video game," I chuckled.
I picked up a crystal, sensing the meagre mana within—equivalent to half a basic spark spell. Useless to me, but perhaps good for a street lamp.
"The surface monsters are weak, as expected. Noted." I filed the information away.
The entrance was just as I'd sensed, buried under the rubble. A flick of my wrist and the earth obeyed, shifting and clearing a path. I marched into the darkness, the man-made walls closing in. Unfurling a scroll, I summoned a soft, guiding light from a willing spirit.
The way was choked with ancient spider webs, a testament to long abandonment. But this was my element. As a master of earth, I could feel every stratum of the mine, sensing the abundant materials I sought for my project. But something else called to me from the deep, something vast and hidden.
"A cavern…" I murmured. "I have to dig."
I pulled a block of stone from the wall, three times my size, and willed it into a spinning, furious drill. It bit into the earth, chewing through soil and rock like soft butter, carrying me down, down, down.
Crack!
BAM!
The final wall gave way, and a brilliant blue light assaulted my eyes, accompanied by the thunderous roar of a thousand waterfalls.
"Incredible," I breathed while glided down slowly while gaze on the cavern.
A soft, ethereal blue glow from bioluminescent algae illuminated a space of impossible scale. A constant, heavy rain fell from the ceiling high above, feeding a raging river far below. And holding it all up were three colossal pillars, each a hundred meters wide, their peaks lost in the misty heights.
"Perfect."
I soared through the cavern to the central pillar, a place accessible only by flight. On its broad, flat summit, I crafted a small altar from the living rock. Setting my bag down, I unrolled my most precious resource: a large sheet of parchment made from the bark of a sacred tree, the ultimate conductor of magic.
Upon it, I had drawn the culmination of my research—a summoning circle perfected from ancient grimoires.
Placing my hand at its centre, I let my mana flow. The circle drank it in, blazing with a hungry, azure light. I closed my eyes, focusing my will, my desire, into a single, clear command.
'I need a servant. One who commands the earth as I do? One of absolute power and utmost loyalty.'
The circle flared, its blue light turning to a blinding, solar gold. It drank deeply, pulling more than half of my reserves in a single, staggering gulp. A new presence flickered into existence before me.
"Come forth and answer my call!"
The golden light dimmed, fading like a dying star. I slowly opened my eyes.
A woman knelt before me. Her long hair cascaded down, framing a serene face. She was dressed in an elegant, long skirt of black and white. My heart hammered against my ribs—a humanoid servant, with her own will and consciousness. This was new. This was dangerous.
The silence was absolute until her voice, clear and calm, cut through it. "I have come."
She slowly lifted her gaze, and her eyes, deep and knowing, met mine.
"My dear Lord, to answer your call."
++++++++++++++
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