Paul’s conscience returned to him, and his body felt just as heavy and weakened as it had before he fell asleep.

With not enough energy to open his eyes, he limply moved his arm to his eyelids and began to massage them gently. His back felt surprisingly comfortable. The surface beneath him was soft, smooth, and cool. It was a stark contrast to his crusty, old, hard bed.

‘Am I in a hospital?’ The thought worried him. A single day in a hospital bed would take him at least a month of work to pay off.

But the anxiety about losing money was quickly overpowered by the sheer exhaustion he felt. Money could come later. It was a problem for future Paul. Right now, he wanted to savor this sweet, comforting embrace.

‘Dammit, what does that thing even want?’ Paul’s thoughts drifted back to his encounter with that entity, he wasn’t sure whether he sold his soul to some orias.

There wasn’t much he could do now except go with the flow a little. Paul couldn’t didn’t even want to think what might happen if he was too rebellious. And on the other hand, he felt his life might become a bit more exciting this way.

As he massaged his eyelids, he noticed a strange lack of resistance. Probably because his mask was missing.

Afraid that his perfectly average looks might be on full display, he groaned and quickly tried to push himself up. Doctors often used this tactic as blackmail against people from the Garden District. You were never supposed to remove your mask in any place where others could see you, except in private.

His golden amber hair fell in disarray from the sudden movement. A few strands falling out, and his vision started to blacken at the edges. His heart was pounding so heavily that it felt like it was shaking his chest.

“Easy there,” came a voice, followed by support as the owner of the voice softly helped Paul back on the bed, “You shouldn’t force yourself, I’ve heard your condition is bad,” his voice was meek and soft, and it sounded familiar.

His eyes squinted as he tried to open them a little and take a quick peek.

The face that Paul saw was delicate, with glistening skin dusted with freckles. Its proportions were strikingly balanced, almost unnaturally perfect, and a few bandages clung to his skin. Dressed in casual attire. His eyes matched his phosphor-yellow hair, glowing faintly, with square pupils that gave them a sharp, unnatural edge. A wide smile stretched across his face, and his quick, shallow breaths radiated excitement. Paul recognized him immediately.

“You’re alive, how lovely. How’s your sister?” he asked his voice weak and hoarse. His eyes darting around the room as he quickly took it in. The floor was made of polished wooden planks, smooth and gleaming. The walls were a crisp white, painted with golden patterns of grape leaves that curled and intertwined with tableaus here and there. There were five other empty beds identical to Paul’s, each neatly made with heavy, warm blankets, all clean white. Around the beds were simple, sturdy chairs. From the corners of the room, pipes sprawled across the floor, connecting at devices positioned between the beds. These devices radiated a gentle warmth, making the room comfortably cozy.

If Paul could whistle, he would have. ‘Not even the Amber District folks can dream of a fancy room like this’, he thought, marveling at the luxury. ‘They must be from the Argent District’, the district of the rich, strong, and influential. Once considered a step below the nobility, the Argent District had grown in prominence as the nobles’ power dwindled. Nowadays, the gap between them hardly seemed significant.

“She’s out for a bit, talking to some bloodhounds about the incident,” the twin explained. The bloodhounds were the people in charge of keeping magic-related activities under control, usually dealing with strong followers of nefarious gods, terrorists, or generally dangerous individuals.

“Name’s Kaelion,” he said as he extended his left hand, which Paul shook, “Fancy name. Paul”

“You were so awesome, brother!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air, his voice loud and full of energy.

“Hehe, it was nothing,” Paul chuckled as he rubbed his nose, enjoying the praise. The twin nodded excitedly, continuing, “My sister got everything on her phone. You looked so cool!” Paul now realized why she had kept her phone so close. Evidence was always good to have.

“They said you lost a lot of blood.” Paul already had an idea what was wrong with him from his from symptoms. But his confirmed it. He was clearly anemic.

“They tried to give you different blood, but your body kept rejecting it. You’d start bleeding, and your condition worsened. You’ve been out for five days, and we weren’t sure you’d wake up.”

Paul’s heart skipped a beat. He had been standing with one foot inside death’s door. At the same time, he couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the situation. “So you almost killed me?” he asked, chuckling.

The twin went quiet, putting his arms behind his back and avoiding eye contact.

‘He looks like a guilty puppy, Paul thought, feeling a twinge of guilt himself.’ Paul suddenly felt guilty, “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you meant no harm,” Paul said, his tone softer. At his words, the twin huffed through his nose, and his face lit up again. Eager to change the subject, he said, “There’s someone who wants to thank you,” as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

Soon enough, rapid footsteps echoed through the halls, growing louder and faster with every second. As the source of the footsteps reached the door, Paul braced himself for someone to walk in.

Smash!

And an entrance it was as the door exploded into pieces, splinters of wood flying everywhere, while dust filled the room. The loud crash reverberated through the air, and bits of word scattered onto the floor. Paul stared, dumbfounded, as a figure strode through the chaos, brushing dust off his shoulder.

The figure looked somewhat young, his face similar to the twins’ but without freckles. His phosphor yellow eyes with square pupils glowed faintly. His hair was white as fresh snow, long and tied back in a ponytail. He was dressed in black shoes, jeans, and a slightly wrinkled white shirt tucked in with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His build was toned, with hints of muscle peeking through, not exceptional, but noticeable. His air was easygoing and relaxed, as if bursting through a door was nothing unusual.

Paul wanted to laugh really badly, finding the scene far too amusing. ‘Seems like energy runs in the family’, he thought, settling for a sneaky chuckle. He quickly deduced that this must be the twins’ father.

“Grandfather, I just installed that door! You’ll scare our guest,” the young twin complained, rushing over to fuss at the old man.

Grandfather? Holy mother of the 4th prince, he looks better than both me and his grandchild combined, Paul thought. Not that he was particularly stunning, but either way, only the strongest mages could slow their aging like this. And he might just be standing in the presence of one.

“Watch your tongue, you cheeky brat. That’s your ‘hero,’ not just a ‘guest,’” the old man said, locking the twin in an arm hold. The younger man squirmed and fought to break free, but the elder’s arms didn’t budge, like a mountain. As he realized it was futile, the twin groaned dramatically, “Okay, alright, I get it! You’re embarrassing me!” as he started to pout.

Their little scuffle dragged on, until Paul, growing bored of watching them, cleared his throat loudly enough to get their attention.

“Oh, how rude of me! I’m Erythion” the old man exclaimed, releasing his grandson. In a flash, he appeared beside Paul, moving so quickly Paul barely tracked him. “Thank you for saving my clumsy pieces of sunrise,” he said, extending his left hand. Paul quickly shook it, he couldn’t afford to be disrespectful, “Paul. I just was doing the right thing.”

“Of course, I don’t plan on letting you leave empty-handed after such a great deed,” the old man continued, grabbing a nearby chair, flipping it around, and sitting with the backrest hugged to his chest. “You need to recover, at least. I’m afraid you’re in no condition to go anywhere, and you’ve been here a long time. How about I contact your relatives or friends to visit you?”

“There’s nobody, don’t worry,” Paul replied with a flat smile.

“Oh, you poor thing. The great goddess of luck has forsaken you,” the old man said thoughtfully before brightening. “How about you stay with us until you’re fully recovered? I’ll treat you like family!” He beckoned the twin to bring his own chair.

“I wouldn’t dare trouble you,” Paul said, his heart quickening slightly, unsure of the man’s intentions.

“What are you talking about? I’ll even kick this useless brat out from the dinner table if I need to make room.” The old man’s tone was so earnest and energetic Paul couldn’t refuse further without risking offense.

Changing the subject, the old man said, “You know, I didn’t expect someone from the Garden District to move like that, know such tricks, or have such power,” the old man said, his curiosity evident but not overbearing. Still, Paul understood the suspicion, after all, it’s not every day a talented man like him comes out of the sewers, and he could be related to something dangerous for all the old man knew.

Paul decided to open up a bit. It wasn’t that he felt threatened, but he himself didn’t know the full picture, so having someone with more authority look into things might give him a lead so he could investigate himself. And cooperating would give a better impression.

He shared his family history, the notes left behind, his activities as a child, and his life as an adult. He even mentioned that the crying mirror had detected no mana or birth blessing in him at a young age. He provided his ID, address, and other details, though he omitted anything about the tar entity.

The old man listened intently, one finger covering his lips, his eyes darting thoughtfully. “You don’t mind if I send someone to your place, right?”

Paul hesitated briefly, his family’s home was their legacy. But in the end, he didn’t think the information inside there was too valuable to a great mage, or at least he hoped as he’s never had the chance to interact with other mages.

He put on his fakest smile and said, “Go right ahead.”

Taking out his own phone, he dialed a contact and he told the person on the other side of the phone to send some people at the address, and he gave the details of Paul’s ID. The old man didn’t seem to want to hide anything, and so talked the entire time in front of Paul.

“I’ll keep you updated if I find anything,” The mage said. Paul was feeling a bit more at ease. Maybe this could lead him toward uncovering his family’s past.

“On another note,” the old man began, stroking his hairless chin, “we’ll wait a few weeks for you to get back into top shape. Then, I’ll bring in a new crying mirror and a divinity globe to run some proper checks.”

“That’s fine,” Paul replied and nodded.

“Oh, and I’ll also have you spar with one of the twins, or maybe both at the same time. Or, if you’re up for it, one of my people. Depends on how strong you really turn out to be.”

Paul tilted his head. “I’m fine with that, but… why?”

“I need to get an idea of your skills to know which school to place you in. Your fight with that bastard was too short, and you had the advantage of surprise. I can’t make proper decisions based on that.” The old man stated as he shrugged.

“Thank you,” Paul said, grateful for the thoughtfulness.

“Don’t mention it. Now—” The old man grinned wickedly. “Let me share some embarrassing pictures and stories about my grandchildren.”

“What?! No, please, not again!” the twin yelped, as he jumped from his chair, stepping closer to his grandfather as if ready to intervene.

The old man calmly placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, locking eyes with him like a commander staring down a recruit. His grin widened.

“Yes. Again!” he shouted triumphantly, pumping his fist in the air

 

The banter had been going on for some time. The young man was slouched in his chair, arms crossed, pouting like a child as his grandfather gleefully pulled out picture after picture and rattled off embarrassing stories. It was as if the old man had been present for every second of their lives.

Paul couldn’t help but feel like he now knew the twins better than their parents probably did.

It didn’t seem like the mage would run out of stories anytime soon, but thankfully, his phone started ringing. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up and pulling out the device.

As he answered the call, the lively grin on his face faded slightly, the corners of his mouth dipping. “Mhm… I see. Could you take a look into it?” he said in a neutral tone before hanging up.

Turning back to Paul, his expression grew more serious. “My people visited your place. They found the door broken into.”

Paul blinked, his stomach sinking as the old man continued, “The place has been picked clean.”