The Red Soul

Chapter Sixteen

Things had quieted down in Ovèrio. Everyone had gone home. The twins were with Amaeron, to report about Akratis and Diva. Myris herself wandered around the corridors.

Akratis was a big blur to her. For half the time, she had had no idea what the conversation with Diva was about. They needed Elyos, that was the only thing she sure of. Why... no idea.

She sighed and looked outside. She was somewhere on the higher floors of the castle. Lumar walked in the garden far below her. Despite the height, Myris was still able to see its gigantic size. He slumped by the lake, where a black wolf lay in the grass. A female, Myris thought, looking at the slimmer figure.

Putting her hands in the pockets of her wide brown pants, she turned to find her way out. She thoughtlessly wandered through the castle. There was not much she could think of without getting frustrated. It was only small pieces she had received today, but the big picture had passed her, right when she needed the whole story. All the disapproving stares intended for her were still clearly etched in her mind, but the reason for that contempt was missing. And that only made it hurt more.

Yet, what pained her the most was that she recognized those gazes. She had looked with the same disgust at Fyrian and the others.

With her hand already on a railing, Myris wanted to descend a flight of stairs. However, she stopped when she heard a soft tune. She turned slowly and closed her eyes to listen better. It was music.

Surprised, she started to search for the source of the sound. An enticing melody echoed through the halls, attracting her like flowers attract bees. It was soft and sweet.

She reached a closed door. Silently, she pushed it open, revealing a tower. Myris looked back doubtfully but decided to go up the winding stairs. The sound grew louder every step of the way, and Myris knew the instrument producing it was a violin. She hardly dared to take the final steps, afraid that music would stop as soon as she reached the top.

A round room with a view of the entire area within the mountains welcomed her as she stood in one of the highest towers of the castle. Window sills between pillars had been transformed into small cushioned seats. The white floor was dotted with white petals, which came from lilies. Together with ivy, they bloomed on the walls and whirled down from the flower pots hanging above Myris. The rest of the room was empty, except for one person.

“Cearen?”

The boy did not answer. His eyes were closed, but green light still escaped from under his eyelids and filled the room with a soft glow. It eased the pain in Myris' feet from walking the whole day. His face was both focused and relaxed as he stepped back and forth on the rhythm, silently dancing with himself. His fingers pushed gracefully on the strings while the bow ran along the lines, producing an unprecedented melody that could even make the stars dance. Tones powerful enough to satisfy a storm.

Myris remembered how dark Akratis was, unlike the boy in front of her, whose smile was like the rays of the sun. He had all but belonged among the dark atmosphere in Akratis. Myris had noticed, the longer he was in that terrible city, the more the light in his eyes went out. His slender body seemed as fragile as the petals surrounding him. But as fragile as he might seem, his music was the most powerful she had ever heard. The inner calmness it conveyed spread through her body.

Her hand went to her cheek, over which a single tear rolled. She had been walking restlessly through the hallways for the last hour. She had hoped to get answers soon about what was going on, not realizing that all she needed right now was the beauty of Cearen's music. The song he played was like serendipity generated from his hands, coming from his heart. And from this room, he could share it with the whole castle.

The music stopped. A surprised expression came to Cearen's face when he saw Myris, which turned into a shy smile. Blushing, he put the instrument away and his bright eyes slowly dimmed to their normal glow. Then he noticed the tear.

Without taking his eyes off her, he walked over to her and placed his hand on her cheek. A deep sigh left Myris, which Cearen saw as a sign to pull her into a hug. The scent of vanilla and roses entered her nose and her muscles relaxed completely.

Myris had not heard the approaching footsteps and was shocked when Fyrian and Viera emerged from the opening in the floor. Her face turned white. She carefully broke away from Cearen's embrace, as Fyrian and Viera stood side by side staring at her and Cearen.

“Ah, Cearen, don't give all your love to Myris alone. We're there too!” Fyrian complained teasingly.

“Yes, where are our hugs?” Viera added with a pouty lip.

Cearen rolled his eyes and quickly gave Myris another radiant smile before Viera and Fyrian joined them.

Fyrian grabbed Myris and put his face on her neck. His gaze had not left hers all the time. “Looks like we'll have to go to Elyos again,” he muttered to her shoulder.

“Right now?”

Viera snorted. “Absolutely not. All I want to do now is go to sleep.”

Myris looked over Fyrian's shoulder. The sun had already disappeared behind the mountains. The music had stopped her mind from pondering, so she now felt how much energy this day had cost her. She watched Viera and Cearen walk down the stairs and wanted to follow them, but Fyrian did not move.

As soon as they no longer heard footsteps on the stairs, Fyrian stood upright. Doubt was on his face as he wiped a stray tuft behind Myris' ear. “Myris, would you mind sleeping in my room tonight?” he asked softly.

Warmth enveloped her body as she nodded shyly. They had not spoken much about the two of them yet, but Myris felt the euphoric feeling spreading within her every time she was with him. She never would have imagined that the one she tried to kill, would also be the one she would eventually turn out to like this much. But she did, and as she studied Fyrian’s eyes, the feeling seemed to be reciprocated.

Happiness glistened in his eyes as he took her downstairs.

His room was not much different from hers or Viera's. It was also divided into three sections, with a balcony overhanging the lake. The room was tidy, unlike the paint splatters and loose sketches that lay on Viera's floor. Only his desk was overloaded with paper and notebooks, and several weapons were scattered throughout his room. A sword leaned against the desk, and several daggers lay on top of the fireplace.

Fyrian disappeared to the wardrobe. Myris took this moment to open one of the notebooks. It was full of letters she could not read. She turned a few pages, but the whole book was in a different language. Some pages were very messy. Rules were completely scratched out and the sides were also completely filled with writing. Other pages were very neat, with the symbols in a rhythmic order.

“They're poems, written in my mother language.” Fyrian popped up behind her and kissed her cheek, making her close it in surprise. He had a bronze coloured nightgown on his arm. She looked at him apologetically, but Fyrian did not seem to mind that she had just snooped through his things uninvited.

He caught her again because she had not heard him coming, which confused Myris. Normally, he was parading around with great strides and you could hear his voice roaring four floors higher. Yet, sometimes, he was quieter than the wind, just like that night in the library.

With a curious look, she accepted the nightgown from him. “You write poems,”

Fyrian raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Don't I look like a poet?”

Grinning, Myris shook her head. Cearen reminded her of a poet with his gentle character, or Viera with her dreamy love of art, not Fyrian with his muscular body, who used his fireplace as a weapon rack.

A defeated sigh left Fyrian's mouth.

“But I think it's great that you write them,” Myris mentioned. “I don't know many poems, only little children's verses.” She looked at how many were on the table and those were just some separate pages, not the filled notebooks. She wondered how many he had written and what they were about. “Do you also recommend them to others?”

He held up his shoulders and picked up a leather booklet from a pile. “Not many people know about it, I prefer to keep it to myself. Which doesn't really work, as Elyos steals as many as possible for his library collection.”

“He steals them?”

Nodding, Fyrian flipped through the booklet. He circled a few words with a quill and moved on to the next page, then added some in the margin. He looked as if he was thinking deeply, looking over the sentences. “Yes, but sometimes I also give him some. I assume he would like to have them because he loves literature very much. Viera, Cearen and Amaeron also like to read them, but Elyos is mainly enthusiastic when I finish one again. Somewhere, I am glad that he likes my poems. You see, it is difficult to gain Elyos’ attention, let alone a positive reaction. So, I am happy that I can attain that. However, he also has a few poems I would rather have back.”

Myris tilted her head. Elyos did not strike her as a person that would get enthusiastic fast, did not even seem to have a proper concept of that emotion, or emotions in general. “And you can't just get them back?”

“Oh, I tried, but there was no use. Seventy guards, glittering jewellery and a lot of paper cuts. If Elyos wants something, he'll get it and you won’t get it back.” Fyrian smiled at the memory.

Suddenly Myris eyes widened. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Your eyes.” Just like Cearen, Fyrian's eyes were now a brighter orange. The furniture had been given warm orange shades. She had not wanted to disturb Cearen as he had seemed so peaceful, but now she grabbed Fyrian's wrist in worry.

Fyrian also noticed and blinked, diminishing the light. Then he pressed Myris, who was still looking at him, closer to him. “No worries. When we sometimes feel very strong emotions, our eyes lit up. The brighter, the more powerful. It is also sometimes used as a sign of dominance. But in this case, it portrays my happiness at the moment,” he explained and chuckled briefly. “You can say… that just talking to you makes me light up on the inside.”

Myris blushed, then gave him a chased kiss on his lips. Due to his height, she had to stand on tiptoe to reach him. Fyrian realized how she tipped her toes and put the book down so he could lift her. Myris quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. She seemed to weigh nothing in his arms with the ease with which Fyrian carried her to the bed. He laid her on the bed affectionately, but also with a slight roughness, and began kissing her neck, his hands sliding over her body.

Then she remembered the hug with Cearen.

“Fyrian, aren't you jealous, are you?” she asked carefully.

“Jealous of what?” Fyrian looked up and slid his eyes over her. Then he hoisted himself up, placing his hands beside her head. His white hair fell in strands across his face. Under the shadows created by this, she could see his wide-open eyes. “You're not going to tell me you ate the last ice flower?”

She looked at him confused. “Ice flower?”

“Yes, the ice flower. You know, the pale blue and white flowers whose leaves are just as hard and cold as ice at first, but as soon as you put them in your mouth they soften and you chew on a fresh and sweet deliciousness!” At the thought, Fyrian's licked his lips. “If you've eaten it, I have to push you out of bed.”

Myris frowned. “Are you really thinking about food now?”

A defensive look came on Fyrian's face. “Those things only grow in glacier ravines and are therefore very hard to get. Not even Cearen can make them rise from the ground.”

Myris swallowed when she heard the name, which Fyrian did not miss. Like puzzle pieces that fell into place, he understood what was going on. “Cearen? You are afraid that I am jealous of the Cearen?”

Myris looked away ashamed. “I thought because Cearen and I were hugging...” her voice died away.

With some shuffling, Fyrian lay down beside her, laughing. “Cearen hugs everyone who wants or needs it. He is easily attached to others. After all, he is the Soul of kindness, a title he wants to be worthy of. So no, the only thing I can be jealous of about him is his non-existent desire to punch people like Ragnos in the face.”

Relieved, Myris snuggled up to Fyrian, who put his arms around her. “After all, I trust you would never do anything like that.”

Myris hummed in agreement.

Fyrian tilted her chin and kissed her more intimately this time. He threw the nightgown that Myris had grabbed firmly on the floor and started to remove the rest of their clothes. He wanted to pull Myris sweater over her head, but she stopped him.

She wrapped her arms around her in doubt. It was not that she did not want this, she just really wanted it, the desire was running through her veins, but something was holding her back. She turned away from Fyrian's questioning look, dared not look into his eyes.

Then she felt a hand on her cheek, which turned her head back to face him.

“You don't have to hide anymore,” he whispered, stroking her ear with his lips. She bit her lip for the most part, but she still could not.

Fyrian smiled reassuringly and sat on his knees on the bed. Slowly he got rid of his shirt and then turned around.

Myris put her hand to her mouth. He had not worn a shirt either during the night they had first kissed, but it had been too dark then to see his skin properly. Now She could see a long white wound running along his upper arm. A scar resembling a bite marked his left side, and several streaks crisscrossed his back, the scars covering his body like constellations. They looked old, but they did not belong, should never have been there in the first place.

She wondered how they came there and why they were still there in the first place. Could Cearen not heal them as he had done with her wounds? Or was the boy too late, or not even there at all when it happened? How many wounds had he endured that were healed in time, no longer visible to the eye?

As she was lost in thought, she had not realized Fyrian had taken off her shirt as well. He examined her in silence. His eyes ran over her body, along her breasts, to her back that was covered with scars. There were many, the bigger ones mainly between her shoulders. Other ones were smaller but also reached her sides, and some even her stomach and chest where her ribcage was still slightly sticking out despite the healthy meals she had these days.

 Normally, she was more used to bruises, occasionally with a broken bone. However, some scars had not been there yet for very long. They could have still been red and welted if it had not been for Cearen’s magic.

Even if she could see his damaged body, a sign that she was not the only one that had suffered, tears still fell with a sob as she thought back at how many times they had broken and ruined her body. Even if she had obeyed; had not moved a single hair in days, they always hurt her, followed by the black needle.

One hand placed on her stomach, the other held her head. Myris could feel herself burn as Fyrian began kissing her back, caressing every scar with his lips. “You are strong,” he said breathlessly.

To stop the tears, Myris closed her eyes and let herself be completely lost in Fyrian's touches.

Red light began to spread throughout the room.

When Myris woke up, she was welcomed by a delicious scent that rose from the floors below. Fyrian was still sleeping with his arm around her, his breathing still slow. Somewhere Myris wanted to close her eyes again and snuggle up to his warm body, but her stomach was rumbling. Still, she could not resist stroking his hair with her hand. She smiled at the view of the man lying half on her. One of the so-called most powerful warriors of Olèrian, a legendary High Soul… pouted in his sleep.

Her hand went from his hair to his back, where she stroked the many scars, contrasting the raw skin with her soft touch. She had long desired to be held again just once, a single touch of the finger would have been enough for her. She had not asked for love because she never expected to get it again. All that she had asked for in that tower was a sign, a touch, or even just a whisper. She had only wanted a small sign to remind her that she was still there, that she had not gone with the shadows. And now she had received that touch, that little assurance that she had not lost herself. But she had not only received that sign. She had received so much more, so much more than she actually deserved.

In response, Fyrian shuddered at the touch. He opened his eyes. When he realized who he was lying on, he gave her a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” he muttered to her stomach.

Myris kissed him on the top of his head and shuffled away from under him so he would not have to see the tears that had appeared in the corners of her eyes. It gave her a disappointed groan from Fyrian's side.

“Get dressed now, I want to eat breakfast,” she said, trying to make her voice sound normal, while she picked up her pants off the ground. Still, a small hiccup escaped from her throat. She looked carefully out of the corner of her eye to see if Fyrian had noticed, but with a new pillow to embrace he had closed his eyes again.

Quickly putting on her moss green blouse, she walked over to him. She leaned over him and pushed gently. There was no response, even when she hit him with a second pillow after a few more tries. She could hardly believe that the same person who did everything every night, except for sleeping, could not be awakened. Shaking her head, she grabbed her socks and boots and left the room.

She was about to go down the stairs when two slender arms wrapped around her neck. Startled, Myris dropped the wool socks.

“Calm down, it's just me,” Viera yawned, picking up the socks. Even though Viera was already dressed in black trousers and a grey sweater that was longer at the back, she blinked with her still swollen eyes, as if she was not quite awake yet. Now that they were standing side by side, Myris noticed how small Viera actually was. Even while Viera was older and already wearing her black boots and Myris not even wearing her socks, Myris was still nearly half a head taller.

The older woman looked around dazed. “Where's Fyrian?”

Myris sighed heavily. “Still in bed.” She chuckled when she saw the Viera’s eyes darken.

“Of all the days he chose to sleep in! Normally, you would find him nowhere near a bed, but exactly this day he thinks it is a good day to start hibernation! If I had known that, I would not have come out of bed either.”

Myris chuckled at Viera’s lament. The past few days, she'd discovered how fond her friend was about sleep, and how irritated she could get if there was a shortage, unlike Fyrian, who normally had more energy in him than was right for him, even for a Fae. Myris was sometimes amazed at how these two could be twins when in many ways they were just the opposite of each other.

They both walked through the corridors, while Myris laughed as the blue soul kept ranting about how irresponsible her twin brother could be. However, her body froze when she heard Viera mumbling how she would not help her brother if everything went wrong.

She remembered what they would do today.

“Is there a big chance that things will go wrong?” she asked anxiously so that Viera focused on her.

Viera grasped her hands firmly, cursing. “No, there is not. Diva will remain calm in front of Elyos. If he comes along, we don't have to worry,” Viera assured her.

Myris looked doubtfully at her and swallowed once before nodding.

“And if things go wrong, at least we have good reason to take those bastards down.” Myris heard the secret hope in Viera's voice. She wanted to laugh at the comment, but she was not quite convinced yet, probably because Viera herself looked uncertain when she heard her own words.

When they entered the dining room, they were greeted by a cheerful Cearen, who was wearing a fleecy beige sweater, showing his soft features even more. Surprised, Myris looked at the new glasses that balanced on his nose. With the large round glasses, the green irises of his almond-shaped eyes seemed even larger, while he brushed his black hair out of his right eye. Myris could not describe him other than cute. Still, she noticed that he looked pale.

As if Viera's grumpiness had never existed, she kissed Cearen lightly on the cheek as a greeting and sat down on the pillows.

Myris, thinking of what Fyrian had told her last night, also hugged him. However, not used to doing this spontaneously, she blushed slightly. She also tried to remember gestures to convey a small ‘thank you’ for yesterday, but they had fled her because she had not practised for a long time. Fortunately, Cearen realized what she wanted to do and gave her a grateful smile.

Sitting down next to Viera, she stared at the food in front of her. Bacon and eggs along with fruit, yoghurt and toast were spread around the table. The wonderful scent almost made her drool.

Viera also made a sound of satisfaction. “Oh Cearen, you really shouldn't have done this!”

The black-haired boy, who was busy pouring tea that smelled like citron, stopped his actions and grinned happily. Unlike Myris' failed attempt, his hands were quick and smooth at making sentences.

Myris looked questioningly at Viera, who gave her a small smile as she placed some eggs on her plate. “Cearen is not going with us today and felt guilty. That's why he wanted to make amends by making a delicious breakfast for us.”

A small ‘oh’ left her mouth. It explained why he wore such comfortable clothes instead of more practical clothes, as she and Viera wore. She also did not have to ask why he was not coming. The pale skin and small bags under his eyes that Myris had now noticed said enough. Nodding again, she began to scoop up her plate.

As soon as Fyrian had joined them and gulped down his breakfast in a few minutes with loud complaints from Viera and laughter from both Myris and Cearen, they headed for Elyos.

Soon Myris was back at the birch gate of the gigantic library. This time, the large doors were closed and two guards stood before them, blocking their way.

Fyrian raised an eyebrow at the guards. The left one took a step forward. “Sorry Fyrian, but Elyos has given us very clear orders not to let anyone through, and certainly not you.”

Fyrian shook his head in irritation and sighed. “Yes, I am aware. If we were welcome, he would not have blocked the portal instead of making us take the long way.” He waved his hand at the guard who looked apologetic for stopped him from going any further. “It's all right Talem, you are just doing your job. I just don't understand that you still work for him at all.”

Myris was surprised by the informal way the men exchanged words. There was a light, relaxed attitude on Fyrian's side. The guards themselves were no longer so stiff.

She observed them more curiously. The man named Talem… or actually it was just a boy, Myris thought surprised when she looked closer, was the most nervous of the three. He was not very tall and muscular compared to the older man next to him. He was human just like her. He had tinted skin and Myris could also see traces of his short brown hair. With dark brown deer eyes, he looked up at Fyrian, a glimmer of admiration and enthusiasm in his gaze. The older man, who was a Fae, seemed to have a lot more experience. Nevertheless, he also looked at the white-haired Fae with awe.

The older Fae nodded with a chuckle. “I sometimes wonder, but at least you do not get bored here quickly.”

With a half-grin, Fyrian whistled low. “Don't let Elyos hear it, Norag. Speaking of the bastard...” He took a few steps back, standing in front of the balcony above the gate. He pursed his lips and placed his hands around his mouth. “I know you can hear me Elyos! Come on out old man or else I'll come in!” He shouted to the higher floors.

For a moment there was no answer. Then the glass doors leading to the balcony were thrown open and Elyos stepped out. In his hand, he had a chalice from which, like the last time, small circles of smoke came out. He looked at Fyrian unmoved. Only his long dark brown hair that flowed with the wind, indicated that he had not suddenly turned into a statue. But that also applied to Fyrian. Without blinking he stared back, his jaw tight.

Viera did move. She sat quietly with her foot rooting in the ground, throwing annoyed glances at the others. She was not worried about the strange cataract contest, as if she already knew the outcome, but as soon as Talem stepped towards her and Myris, she jumped up in surprise. He smiled gently, but Viera turned her gaze back to the ground. Myris even saw relief on her face when she realized that Myris was the one he was walking towards.

Myris self was stunned when he bowed slightly. “You're the High Red Soul, are you not?” he asked hopefully. His last of his professional demeanour had faded, and he stared expectantly at her with wide-eyed eyes, which resulted in him receiving a punitive look from the other guard. But when she confirmed his suspicion with red cheeks, Norag also took a step closer.

“So, you really came back. The High Souls are complete again,” the older man murmured under his breath.

Talem rocked back and forth on his feet, looking delightedly at his fellow guard. “You know what that means, Norag! We'll be free!”

Just as Myris came closer to ask what they meant, Elyos got up abruptly. Without saying another word, he walked back inside. As soon as the glass doors closed behind him, Talem and the older guard immediately went to their old positions and opened the birch gate.

Satisfied, Fyrian and Viera entered. The guards both quickly stole a last glance at Myris with joy in their eyes before closing the doors again behind them.

The halls of the library, previously full of people and creatures, were now empty.

“It would be assumed that locking a door and blocking a portal would convey a sign of undesirability for guest.” Elyos's deep voice echoed through the stone hall as he walked down the stairs, taking a gulp from the chalice as soon as he halted in his steps.

Elyos… Myris had to look twice before she fully realized that the dark-skinned Fae was actually Elyos. She had not been able to see him very well from the balcony, but now she blinked in surprise. He wore a white silk skirt, of which the bottom layer was orange, all layers decorated with yellow edges. A cape in the same orange and yellow tones, with a high collar and long flared sleeves, hung loosely around him, allowing her to see his muscular chest.

She stared at it open-mouthed. A black stone was shining just below his collarbones. It was not like the little gems as those in Viera's and Fyrian's necklaces. No... this one seemed frigid and radiated strong energy- more dangerous energy. It scattered small black lines that marked the skin around the stone. Myris had to admit that he was even more intimidating than he already was before.

“It would be assumed that you know better than to try to keep us out.” Viera bounced back teasingly as if she had just been no quieter than Fyrian and Elyos.

The latter clicked his tongue, then saw Myris staring at him. He tilted his head, causing the chain around his horn and ear to shake back and forth, making it jingle. His yellow eyes seemed more distant than before, almost dull in their sockets. And yet they seemed to look beyond the scene before him, not leaving the smallest details unnoticed. Myris suddenly saw that there were indeed many more years behind the man than she realized.

With a final gulp from his chalice and a face full of disgust because of its contents, Elyos turned away to glare at Fyrian again. “I may have let you in, but that does not insinuate I will accompany you to that withered heap of a city too.”

Fyrian held his hand through his hair. “Of course, you still refuse...”

With a tap, Elyos put the chalice on a round table by the stairs and walked over to Fyrian. “Did you expect anything else? Did you foolishly except I would say yes? The only reason I would go back to that place, to her, is to personally destroy that city and everyone in it.” His voice was warningly calm.

“And I wouldn't stop you, even gladly help you,” Fyrian countered, “but you know we can't do that because of the contract. After all, we need Diva's help.”

Elyos eyes narrowed at the name. “That contract was nonsense from the start. If Amaeron wants Diva's assistance so badly, he should go himself. I'm not going.”

Myris did not understand what was going on, and it made her anxious. For the first time, Elyos conveyed a recognizable emotion instead of being impassive as normal. But it did not appear to be good as the only detectable emotion was that of hatred. Pure sickening hatred.

 What help could Diva give them that they went to such lengths to get Elyos with them? The fae simple stood before them, unmoving. His appearance did not indicate to be a threat, seemed relatively calm and controlled other than his sharpened eyes and lowered voice. Yet, without doing anything, he was still imposing. Even Diva or Akratis could not make her body tense up this bad. He was terrifying.

“You're the only one who Diva want to talk to. Without you, she won't even let us into the city anymore.” Viera tried to convince him, but even she was cautious around him. Yet, Elyos did not budge.

A smile appeared on his face and it scared Myris how little emotion was present in it. “Too bad for her that I don't want to talk. I am staying here.”

Viera snorted loudly. Her hands were clenched into fists. “Too bad for her? You mean too bad for us! How should we ever make an agreement with her if you don't cooperate?”

The Fae looked at her from the corner of his eye, completely unaffected by the fierceness with which Viera spoke and her aggressive attitude. “We'll figure out another way to-”

“You know better than us that there is no other way! If you do not help us, we won’t get any further.”

Myris was startled by the slight despair that she could hear in Fyrian's voice. She saw in Elyos' face that he also had not missed that undertone. He started pacing, avoiding Fyrian’s and Viera's begging looks. Just as Myris thought they had convinced him, Elyos went up the stairs and disappeared back to his private home.

A new silence fell over them. Fyrian sat down on the stairs, defeated. Feeling the same disappointment course through her body, Myris sat down beside him and put an arm around him. She looked a little helpless at Viera but raised her eyebrow in surprise when she saw Viera looking in the direction Elyos disappeared to with a smirk.

Myris did not understand why Viera looked self-assured. Elyos did not seem to be the type to back out just like that. Not without a proper reason at least, and who knows what that man considered to be a proper reason.

She shook her head. What difference did it make? Elyos had not budged, and now they were left empty-handed. Could they not convince Diva in any other way, or would she be just as stubborn? They would probably find out soon.

Fyrian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. Then he got up and started walking towards the doors. Myris wanted to follow him, but she noticed Viera still standing unmoving as if she was waiting.

Then the door above the stair opened again, and Elyos appeared with a paper in his hand. He pushed it in the hands of a confused Fyrian and pointed at it with a strict face. “In return, I want another poem similar to this one for my collection.”

All three of them sighed in relief by hearing the new deal.