I slowly straightened my back, feeling my body move more easily, the sensation left me filled with relief.

  I felt my limbs move.

  No fatigue touched my muscles. Each breath was levelled, smooth. My eyes opened slowly, registering the soft light spilling in from outside. The curtains swayed high with the cold breeze.

  The later afternoon light pouring through the window by the bed, the desk beside me still had the old parchments I’d been using and the sheets I laid in were warm.

  For once, I wasn’t overwhelmed.

  There was…peace. Everything felt peaceful.

  Just witnessing those memories didn’t leave me conflicted or uncertain, they left me with a realization, like the sun spilling its first rays over the land.

  The realization that Jiwoo was not a burden anymore. Not a lingering ghost, not some voice I had to silence just to keep myself aware of the wrong I’d down to him. He was part of me. A presence who had helped me in this life—anchored me, even.

  Like a piece, a thread that had held me together even when I wasn’t aware of it—when I thought I didn’t need him.

  Just like Shun was my past, a thread I hadn’t quite let go of…Jiwoo, whose body I had taken, whose soul I had fused with, was the one I unknowingly held on to.

  I felt a breath escape me, my lungs didn’t feel heavy, my expression—I couldn’t tell how I looked.

  Perhaps, relieved...sad...or something too difficult to put into words.

  “I thought I’d seen everything the real Jiwoo had lived…” I thought, letting the words mouth off before I could even let my mind process them.

  ‘But maybe he hid things from me, too.’ I looked down at my right hand, at the multifaceted keystone, still gripped tightly in my palm.

  It looked how it had been, dull, unresponsive and dead. But, I felt like something had shifted in the way I looked at it.

  Something insightful. That this wasn’t just a relic anymore, it was more. A mirror.

  A headache throbbed faintly at my temples—I finally remembered what had happened before I was knocked out cold.

  It was the third dive that had plunged my consciousness—the third time I’d decided to enter the keystone realm in a single day.

  I’d pushed past my limit. Two was all I could manage at this point, but I forced a third—frustrated that I couldn’t make any progress after hitting the metaphysical wall that held me captive to its illusory question. I must’ve passed out from the strain eventually without realising and then witnessed ‘that’. Hopefully, it wasn’t anything too serious.

  Slowly, I rose. My legs felt steady. One hand came up to my forehead, gently massaging. The headache was manageable, but it still stung.

  But, my mind was somehow still focused on the memories I had just seen, so fresh and vivid in my mind.

  And the things Jiwoo had said to me at the end. Perhaps, there was still a part of him inside me that wanted to speak, to be felt and understood, and to feel connected and remembered.

  I clenched the keystone in my hand and after a moment made it vanish into the inventory.

  I stepped toward the open window. My boots clicked softly against the floor, each step echoing in the quiet of the room. There wasn’t much noise—just the soft rustle of leaves outside and the smooth chirping of spring birds.

  I stepped out onto the balcony, leaning forward slightly as I rested my hands on the cold stone columns, taking in the soft breeze that brushed past me.

  Outside, the elven world stretched out before me—trees swaying, the midday light dancing across the surface of the pond. Everything shimmered gently.

  Everything felt still. Peaceful. How it was supposed to be.

  This moment felt almost surreal, like an illusion that could be undone if I took my eyes off it.

  Perhaps, this fragile side of me that I didn’t let anyone see...this was what I was most fearful of. To not let anyone see me break, fail. It clenched at my throat like a vice, choking the air in my lungs.

  Old, very old and buried memories came rushing into my mind like an old wound touched by time itself. In my mind, I saw the world on fire, the serenity that displayed itself now was gone forever. All that touched the earth was a barren land that was covered with the corpses of innocents.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, letting that memory pass on its own, not forcing it down, accepting it. Because, that’s why I was working so hard. Been pushing myself so much.

  I reached out, calling to the mana around me. Without a delay, it responded—not with resistance, but with space. It made way like it was accepting me.

  I took flight.

  The mana parted for my steps, carrying me through the air and beyond the balcony. I rose, gently, toward the spire’s peak—where only one could sit.

  Just enough space.

  Just enough stillness.

  I stool a seat, curled near one end and wrapped my arms around my knees as I rested my chin on my kneecaps.

  I simply let the moment pass on in silence, it felt enough, and yet now, overwhelmingly heavy.

  But, there were parts in the memories I’d seen that I didn’t had answers for. I had seen how the siblings had endured and lived.

  Their love, strength and bond for one another.

  And yet...even now, something about this memory didn’t make sense.

  If I remembered correctly, Jiwoo and Jihye were together after their parents had died, until Jihye had officially turned eighteen to take Jiwoo’s custody for herself.

  Then, how? Why were they still together? Before Jihye had reached legal age, how were they able to stay together without a legitimate legal guardian?

  If I remembered correctly, Jiwoo and Jihye didn’t have many relatives. Their father was an only child—aside from one very distant uncle who hadn’t contacted them even when their father was alive—and their mother was an orphan from the beginning. So, she didn’t have any clear relatives who would help her orphaned children later.

  So, the legal system should’ve separated them, buried them in different homes or in an orphanage. That’s how the world worked.

  I frowned, digging deeper into the memory, only to come up with nothing—just straws to grasp at.

  But they weren’t separated.

  And someone made sure of that. Someone I never saw. Not even mentioned in the memory.

  Like a shadow outside the frame. A whisper beneath the silence. An individual who had helped two poor children to stay together and live.

  “Who helped us…?” I muttered.

  I waited.

  No answer. I was only met with silence.

  Just the soft unravelling of light—like the memory had shown me all it was allowed to. And then…it faded. Or perhaps, the memory had shown me everything it could and this was something that even Jiwoo was unaware of.

  He was still a kid, all he wanted was to stay by Jihye’s side, so, he didn’t care about the other things and never questioned the reason even after he had grown up.

  But, who was this unknown individual who had helped two strangers kids and kept them together, giving them aid to continue to live?

  Perhaps, a friend of Jiwoo’s father? No, that wasn’t possibly. When I’d first looked into Jiwoo and Jihye in the beginning days of my regression, I didn’t find any suspicious information about the two.

  Or any external help. Because, I wasn’t that focused on the two at that time. All I had found out was that Jiwoo had taken a loan out for thirty million won.

  I remembered again, it was like a hollowing sensation, something I could’ve never imagined, yet something that hit so hard.

  I let the weight of it settle down on me like heavy blanket. I didn’t push away the guilt, I accepted it. It was suffocating, heavy and unbearable, but I didn’t run from it.

  I let my head relax, feeling a sigh build up, looking at the eastern side of the town shown from the spire top. The bustling town the late afternoon light that shone brilliantly.

  “I lived his life, but I never truly understood the weight he carried.” I let those words out, they drifted into the shallow wind, but the realization that had come to me...

  At first, I just figured back then that it was something dumb he did. Some financial mistake he made when he was young.

  But, the truth was far more than I could’ve thought.

  Perhaps, my previous thoughts weren’t even necessary in this moment. The mysterious person—if there was one—who had helped Jihye and Jiwoo, I can always look into it if I got the opportunity to go back home.

  They helped the siblings stay together. Perhaps, an individual who had taken pity over two children who had been abandoned by fate.

  I sat in silence, the weight of each breath somehow heavier than before. Maybe it was the guilt still clinging to my bones. Or maybe it was the truth—the whole truth—that now lived inside me, carved like a scar I could never wash off.

  Jiwoo…

  Just from that last interaction, I figured something out. Something bold—but, maybe the truth I didn’t want to accept.

  He hadn’t fought me back then—not even when he had materialized as the mimic. Until the end. I used to wonder why—why he never clung to life the way others would. But now I know.

  It wasn’t surrender. It was sacrifice.

  Even back then, he had pushed me to an edge I didn’t want to go, but that had allowed me to realize what I was lacking, he had helped him. He has been helping me since the start.

  Like a guardian.

  But, he was alone. Always was. No guardian. No friends. Just quiet persistence in the background of a world that never once looked at him properly. But he never let that stop him. His strength wasn’t loud. It wasn’t flashy. It was stubborn. Quiet. And hopelessly human.

  And in the end…I let that sigh roll out finally as I leaned back. He made the only choice he could.

  Like Icarus, he rose knowing the sun would burn him. And when the heat came—when life started to slip—he didn’t turn away. He let his wings burn.

  He let me in.

  That was his final act. His only rebellion. His only mercy to himself.

  Knowing that his sacrifice could lead to a better world, a life where his loved ones could be protected.

  He didn’t cling to the body. He gave it to me.

  And now I live with that. I breathe in a life that isn’t mine. I carried memories that don’t belong to me. I chase goals he never got to finish. I carry his ghost like a second shadow.

  And even now…even after everything…

  I’m not sure I’ve earned the right to call it mine. Perhaps, I never would.

  But that was fine. That was enough. I didn’t have to carry more than I needed to.

  Like an inner strength, I felt something inside me stir, and I remembered Jiwoo’s words from moments ago.

  Maybe...I couldn’t fix everything...not on my own. Not all alone. I burdened myself with things that were never mine to carry, I just let that guilt trap me under its weight for so long.

  But, it wasn’t wrong.

  I looked down at my palm, calloused and worn, and I clenched it firmly. I felt a thin, gentle smile pulling at my lips, it left me complicated.

  I did thought that becoming Jiwoo would mean erasing him. Deep down, I wanted to ignore this...just like I did with Shun. I wanted to escape him, to leave him trapped in the dark forever.

  But in the end, both of them were always there. Just waiting for me...pieces of me that I needed to move forward.

  Just like how I needed acknowledgement...they did to. They weren’t my enemies, but my strength.

  And, I’ll walk forward anyway. For him. Them.

  For Jiwoo. For Shun.

  I let the moment pass on as I quietly sat, unmoving, the soft noises coming from outside the palace walls allowed my mind to be distracted for a while.

  It was the last day of the festival of the verdant moon. The politics had taken most of my time and when we did make plans, it was on the last day of the festival.

  Without Ramus’s help, it would have taken us longer than just two days. He was a lifesaver. And, I couldn’t repay for all he and his family had done for me.

  Just a few hours ago, I remembered how Aurora had nagged both Mordian and I. She was adorably grumpy, like a kid—but, it was her right.

  She had been ignored by us due to our tasks and we didn’t have time for any other stuff.

  But, even now, I found her expression cute. I focused my mind on Aurora’s face, her expressions, and soon I found that final piece fall inside my heart.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  I had been rejecting my own emotions for so long—deliberately so, because I thought these were just superficial feelings born from circumstances and our time together.

  At first, Aurora had been nothing but another stranger to me. But, circumstances let to things that allowed me to care for her as a companion—even now, she showed me a side of myself that I had refused to look at.

  She always made me realize—like a quiet warmth I never knew I needed, the light that reached into the corners of me I’d long tried to hide from even myself—amidst the storm I pushed against, that I had to think for myself, to not lose myself under the burden of my responsibilities. Her words, worry and warmth always left me grounded and contradictory.

  But, I didn’t know just when this concern for her had development into feelings.

  Even without knowing the whole of me, she stood by my side—quietly, stubbornly. She always smiled her way through things, but I knew even she was scared at times—like how she had opened up to me in the orcen world before our counterstrike against the demons.

  Now, I worried for her. Cared. Would remember her when I couldn’t meet her for days—even when I was in the blessed springs.

  I leaned my head against my arm resting atop my knee.

  But, these feelings were always accompanied by the guilt of my past life. More precisely, Rachael.

  I didn’t know when it started, but I knew it was there now. A warmth I couldn’t deny—a care for Aurora. But that didn’t mean I was ready to give it a name.

  I let my head sink deeper into my arm, biting the inside of my cheek.

  It was true, I now had feelings for her. But, it was also a fact, that I hadn’t met Rachael in this life, not yet. But her shadow still walked beside me. And now, Aurora’s light was starting to fill in the cracks I didn’t know were still open. Was it wrong to feel warmth like this? Was it betrayal?

  I don't know...

  I sighed—quiet, long, almost bitter. Maybe I didn’t need to have the answers right now. Maybe it was enough to feel...and not run from it this time.

  I tried to relax my mind, but just in that moment, I felt the system, a window popped open in front of me. The window loomed ahead like an anomaly in space.

  It had been a long while since I got any word from the system. Ever since I came to the elven world, the system had been dormant, and I had waited for its response.

  I moved my gaze over the shimmering window, and saw the contents written over it.

  『CONTINUE DUNGEON TRIALS?』

  『Yes』??『No』

  That’s all it said, no fancy words or other confirmations, but with this, I knew I could continue my journey ahead.

  I had recovered enough in the last six months and gotten better at wielding mana and my affinities with it.

  For a moment, I kept my gaze fixed on the screen hovering in the air—its glow flickering softly like it was waiting for something more than just a choice. Maybe it was. Maybe I was.

  I stared at the prompt, unmoving. The silence around me pressed in, as if even the world was holding its breath.

  But, I just waved the window away for the time being. Its glow dissipating into thin air with a soft hum, a gust of wind swept through the spire.

  I slowly adjusted my head, looking back at the town outside the walls and the long horizon.

  There was a sudden shift in the air, and I could already feel it in my bones. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

  From somewhere, Mordian descended—his athletic form folding as he landed without a sound at the edge of the rooftop opening. The stone didn’t even groan beneath his weight. His long robes rippled like whispers in the wind, catching the sunlight as if they were stitched from itself.

  He stood there, silent, regal. Watching me.

  I could feel his restrained gaze, his questions that always scrapped at the back of my head, but he never dared asked, perhaps, to not appear overbearing.

  But, I was sure, he knew what I was feeling right now. Mordian could read me like an open book, even the slightest shift in my demeanour.

  But he just stood there. Not one word spoken. His presence brought me solace.

  I didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. Just being near Mordian brought a kind of calm I couldn’t explain. Like the weight on my shoulders got a little easier to carry.

  I felt my lips part, a soft smile replacing my previous expression.

  This time, I looked at him, his long golden hair flowing in the quiet wind, bathed in the warm sunlight, his sharp eyes looked back and for a moment even he didn’t say anything.

  “How’d you find me?” I asked, not question, just curiosity. I had hid my presence to not let anyone notice I was here.

  Mordian didn’t say much, just, “You tend to come to high places whenever you have something pressing on your mind. You used to do that in the orcen world.”

  I looked at him for a moment, surprised that Mordian had caught on to that. And, more surprising was that, I hadn’t realized before that I used to do that, a lot.

  I let the moment pass on, my eyes glued to his side profile, despite his stingy and indifferent side, he had done well to observe me and some of my patterns.

  “What’s wrong?” He let out, looking back at me.

  I shrugged and pulled back, but the smile on my face didn’t falter. “Nothing.” I said back. “Just...thanks for everything, man. Everything you have done for me, everything you had to endure because I was selfish enough to drag you into it.”

  Mordian’s brows furrowed like usual, but his expression seemed confused for once.

  I could already tell what he was thinking.

  “I just wanted to put it out there—you know, if something ever happens.” I let my words roll slowly. “That meeting you was perhaps fate.” I added with dry humour at the end.

  Mordian’s gaze lingered a second longer than usual before he finally replied, voice quiet but certain.

  “Fate…or consequence. In the end, I never minded either.”

  I let his words sink in for a moment, I was quiet, but a simple smile played on my lips.

  Yep, that’s something Mordian would say.

  For a while, neither of us said anything. The silence was comfortable, but beneath it was something deeper—unspoken.

  My voice slipped out before I could catch it.

  “Do you ever miss those days? When you used to be a prince…a warrior of the dragon race?”

  I hadn’t meant to ask it. It just came out—like something cracked open inside me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who needed to feel human today.

  Mordian didn’t answer immediately. His eyes slowly drifted to the horizon, the breeze ruffling the edge of his robe. For once, he looked…distant.

  “There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t dreamt of them,” he said at last, his tone softer than I’d ever heard it in all our time together. “Those peaceful mornings, training under the sun…the smell of the mountain breeze…sparring with the others in the courtyard. Those hunts we performed together.”

  He paused, as if tasting the memory. His face softened ever so slightly, a hint of a smile over his stoic features.

  “We trained under Elder Shukr. A Pantheon of the old lineage. I wasn’t the best—far from it. But Shukr…he was patient. He believed even the weakest buds could bloom into something unshakable, if given the time. He let us fail, fall, and rise again. The most patient man I ever knew.”

  Mordian trailed off, surprisingly he was a little more talkative today. “I had heard that he even trained my father in his younger days. Elder Shukr was a man well-versed in the dragon race—a member of a race that was our oldest and loyalist ally.”

  There was something in Mordian’s tone...almost tragic. His tone carried the weight of something lost. And in his eyes, that look…haerith. A longing so deep, it could only belong to someone who’d already accepted they could never return home. A quiet ache for a home long gone, unreachable no matter how far he flew.

  But beneath that ache, there was something else too—an ember of resolve. The kind that refused to let history bleed itself into the future.

  I leaned forward, arms resting on my knees.

  “Is he still alive?” An almost stupid question to ask, but I felt like it was appropriate in this moment.

  Mordian was quiet, the wind brushing between us like a whisper, his thoughts felt like an open book. His voice came low, almost uncertain.

  “I would like to believe he is.” He said, his tone reverent. “Among the ash’ari, he was revered. One of the oldest Pantheon to ever live—perhaps spanning several millennia. If anyone could endure what’s happened to our world...it would be him.”

  I nodded slowly, taking it in.

  And right now, I was grateful to be here—with him.

  I took in all of his words, sorrow and pain, listened, looking at the dragon who had tragically lost everything in a matter of moments, stripped of his title, his linage, his people.

  There was no one to remember him as the prince of the Astrionyx clan. Unlike me, who received another chance at life, the past tragedies I experienced were now a shadow that loomed over me, but he...he still carried all that weight and loss with him everywhere—fresh and haunting.

  To alleviate the mood, I tried to shift the conversation in another direction, looking at the setting sun that produced soothing rays of golden mixed with orange. “It’s the last day of the festival.” I said, looking at the decorations on the town buildings still hung.

  Mordian didn’t speak, so I continued. “We did make a promise to go with Aurora. I think it would be a good change of pace for us both.” I said, rising to my feet as I saw the setting sun, the light dimming just slightly. “All that politics has made me tired. I just want to let loose one last time before we make way forward.”

  As I spoke, Mordian turned to me, his feet already half in air, understanding what I was implying.

  He turned to me. “Then we should hurry before Aurora gets angry again.” He said, but his tone was dry and expression stoic again.

  “Yeah, “ I said back, as I followed Mordian from behind and we both entered my room through the open balcony.

  ***

  I strode through the hallways of the palace with Mordian in tow. We ventured deeper into the halls before we stopped before two large gates, the main entrance of the palace.

  Elder Ramus was there to greet us. The old elf still looked like he had some humorous joke held beneath his kind smile. His chestnut eyes glanced at me, his face beamed slightly—the kind I’d seen him make only to family.

  I nodded back, acknowledging him. Beside him stood Gramps. His presence were attentive, but that aloof and disinterested expression made me smile coyly.

  “What are you doing here? Don’t want to go back to your lonely hut in the woods?” I teased as I inched closer.

  Gramps crossed his arms, I registered two elven guards clad in armour near the gates, they tensed up as I said, but Gramps gave me a sly grin.

  “No, I thought I would spend some quality time with my family once in a while.” He said back, like he genuinely meant that.

  I raised my brow in perplex. “Ramus, is he really that antisocial and broody Gramps I saw when I came here?” I asked Ramus from the side and he chuckled. “Talk about character development.” I said almost exaggeratingly.

  Gramps scoffed and gave Ramus a sideways look. “Six months—six damn months—I trained this brat, and now he talks like I’m some forest cryptid.”

  Then he looked at me, his gaze sharp but amused. “Careful, Jiwoo. Keep poking fun, and I might start charging you for all that wisdom I gave you.”

  I laughed, wholeheartedly, feeling my heart alleviated. “Sure...” I said plainly. “That so called wisdom that consisted of sarcasm, dry jokes and every five minutes of you crying about how it was a pain to train me.”

  He paused for a beat, knowing almost everything I said was true, even Ramus nodded his head in agreement, but Gramps added with a slight smirk. “And yet you still turned out halfway decent—so either I’m a miracle worker, or you’re just too stubborn to fail.” He crossed his arms and acted all coy.

  He glanced at Ramus with a mock sigh after a second longer. “Probably the second one. Kid never knew when to quit. It was painful sometimes to keep up with him—who trains days on end and still has the energy to thrash the blessed springs after that.”

  Then he looked back at me, softer this time. “But kid, I’ll take credit anyway. Old man’s gotta have something to brag about when the forest gets quiet.”

  We all smiled, even the guards seemed to join in as they heard, their smiles were reserved in the presence of their Lords, but the mood felt light and warm.

  After a few minutes, I heard footsteps from upfront, where two individuals were approaching the gates.

  I saw Lady Ariem—just the way the woman carried her weight, the maturity in her stride, the quiet authority in her gaze. There was a grace to her presence, the kind that didn’t beg attention but commanded it.

  Even in her age, she possessed a timeless allure—less about beauty and more about the weight of who she was. A woman shaped by years, by choices, by power—and it showed in every step she took.

  But, my attention went to the girl next to her, and for a moment I felt spellbound. My eyes followed her every movement, the slightest sway of her hair, the twitch of her rosy lips, the way her eyes seem to catch my gaze immediately and move away.

  Her hair was tied behind her head, allowing her bangs to part like curtains and revealing her porcelain face that glowed like the moon. Her teal eyes complimented her gunmetal hair excruciatingly so that I couldn’t seem to pull my gaze away.

  Aurora came standing just a few inches away from us—serene, composed, and as breath-taking as ever.

  The blouse she wore was soft in hue, like moonlight diluted through morning mist. It clung delicately to her form, not tight, but graceful—emphasizing the gentle slope of her shoulders and the quiet confidence in her posture. A satin ribbon was tied neatly at her collar, subtle yet elegant, resting just above where her heartbeat would be.

  The fabric shimmered faintly as she moved, not with extravagance, but with grace. It was like she didn’t wear the clothes—the clothes simply became part of her. Her long silvery hair framed her face perfectly, a few loose strands brushing against the soft curve of her collarbone.

  My eyes went to her long ears, a pair of beautiful sapphire gems hung at their base.

  Aurora inclined her head slightly, I finally realized that I had been staring at her the whole time.

  She took a step even closer. “Shun, what’s wrong? You’ve been looking at me like that for a while.”

  I coughed dryly, seeing Gramps smirk mischievously, before he could say anything inappropriate like he always did, I spoke.

  “No, just...you dolled up pretty well today.” I felt humour graze the back of my tongue almost instinctively, like I always did in her presence.

  A grin replaced her face as she spoke. “Well, after all this time you made me wait, I can finally go to the festival like I intended with you both. And I didn’t doll up, my beauty...it’s all natural.”

  I smiled, feeling warmth spread through my chest. Just by seeing her smile, I felt my heart beat faster, my eyes never leaving her, and her cheeks started to turn pink slightly.

  Then, without wasting another moment, the guards pushed the gates open and Aurora marched forward with Mordian, Lady Ariem and Ramus beside them.

  Just as I was about to make way forward, Gramps pulled my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulder and whispered.

  “You better make the time with her worth it. I know about the money you won from Ramus, so, buy her a gift.” Gramps said seriously. I felt his grip firm over my shoulder. “She was pretty disappointed when she didn’t get anything from you. That’s the first I’ve seen her be that eccentric about her birthday.”

  Gramps pushed me forward, as I stepped out of the gates. “So, make it count even if it’s a late gift, my foolish disciple.”

  I felt the light outside fall over me as I looked above my shoulder, a reassuring smile over my face. “Bet on it.”

  ***

  By the time we left the main gates of the palace and made way through an alleyway that was a few buildings away from the palace—which of course, Aurora let us to, we soon blended in with the heavy crowd that was gathered in the capital city of the elves for the last day of the verdant moon festival.

  I looked around, peeking through my cloak which protected my face as I saw several elves, orcs and dwarfs.

  The elven festival buzzed with life, lively chatter echoing through the town as colourful lights sparkled in the night, and folk music filled the air. Aurora’s gaze flitted from stall to stall, her expression alight with awe, a childlike smile gracing her face. I stepped closer, adjusting her cloak so it just barely concealed her face, letting her enjoy the festivities freely but safely.

  I had given her the cloak of nyx, for better concealment and for the public to not recognise her in this crowd. The artifact worked brilliantly and it allowed her to conceal her presence perfectly.

  Meanwhile Mordian and I had regular cloaks. Even if Aurora had exaggerated our names during the ceremony, we were still strangers, unknown heroes who had sided with the tri-union, so they won’t expect us to walk these streets so openly.

  I looked at her for a moment longer, my fingers grazed her cheek unexpectedly.

  I paused, feeling the softness of her cheek, which was slightly turning red as she pulled the cloak even down.

  But, I realised now, I hadn’t had much time to spend with her since I came to her world, making me feel a little awkward now. “Thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing faintly. As I stepped back, I felt a strange pang in my chest, something unfamiliar stirring as I looked down at her.

  ‘I am going to look around by myself,’ Mordian side in my mind. ‘Take your time. And do look for something good.’

  Before I could look at him, his cloaked form blended in and disappeared into the crowd.

  “Where’s Mordian?” Aurora asked, peeking through the gap of her cloak.

  I awkwardly scratched my cheek. “He said he was going to look around by himself.” I said, and Aurora seem to understand immediately.

  I never took Mordian to be like that. And Aurora knew well how to read the room.

  My hand drifted to the back of my neck, rubbing nervously. But, with a breath I spoke. “Then, should we go ahead?”

  And immediately, Aurora nodded in affirmation with a graceful smile.

  We both made way through the streets, kids running with treats that resembled some street foods in the human world but in different shapes, there were many shops and vendor stalls set up.

  I registered many items, from the shops that were near the square, or stalls that were set up temporarily for the festival.

  Some were openly advertising, shouting with vigour which pulled in customers, some had intriguing items that brought in customers automatically.

  One voice seemed directed at us. My hand immediately went to the hood over my head, I covered my ears better, but not my face.

  Even if they knew about my name, they didn’t about how I looked like. The only thing I needed to be careful about was openly showing my ears, so as long as I did that, they would thing I was just any other elf.

  “You there, young man. Take a look at these beautiful pair of earrings, why not buy them for the lady beside you.” The street vendor said. His eyes met mine then went to Aurora, trying to get a peek at her full features, but couldn’t from the concealment of the artifact.

  “She looks like someone beautiful. So, these would go even well.” He said again, raising the pair in his hand, which obviously attracted Aurora’s attention now.

  Even before I could say anything, Aurora was over to his stall, I followed her from behind and her gaze jumped from one to many beautiful accessories placed there. Gems and other kinds of beautiful stones that looked stunning.

  Aurora kept looking, but didn’t choose anything.

  I also looked as other customers came too, but I couldn’t seem to decide what to get.

  Aurora had all the jewels and accessories she could ask for, her status as the princess made wealth seem insignificant, then what was there that I could get her.

  I almost sighed, feeling frustrated. Was choosing a gift this hard?

  But, like Fujimoto had told me, it wasn’t the price or the brand that mattered, it was the feelings of that person who got you a gift that truly mattered.

  I kept looking and then, at the far end of the stall, I saw a silver like string, I reached up and grabbed it with a swish, as I saw the single necklace reveal itself to be two feathers intertwined together, that made a pair.

  “Oh, excellent choice young man.” The vendor said with a cheerful voice. “That is a necklace made for couples, each keep one piece of the feather to show their affection and love.”

  The realization hit me as I looked down at the feathered necklace, but my eyes went to Aurora, she was a few paces ahead of me, her body was bent ahead, looking at the items of another stall just a few feet away, and within the cacophony of loud voices, perhaps she hadn’t heard the vendor.

  I clenched the necklace in my palm gently, my eyes fixed on her cloaked features, feeling my heart beat faster.

  The words of the vendor kept repeating in my mind, and I couldn’t focus on anything else except her. About the couple thing...

  I thought for a moment, but every time I thought not to, these feelings lurched in my heart even strongly. I didn’t know if she would like this necklace—she might see such accessories unnecessary from how she liked to dress up casually, allowing her more comfort over luxury.

  Aurora stood up, and her eyes met mine, a smile beamed across her face, and amongst the entire crowd that was around us, all I saw was her visage clearly while everything else blurred in the distance.

  So, I bought the necklace. I paid the vendor, retrieving the coins I had received from Ramus, and with a smiling face he bid me goodbye as I walked closer to Aurora.