As they drew closer to the estate, its true scale gradually revealed itself. From a distance, it had appeared enormous, an imposing silhouette standing against the sky, but now the finer details became clearer. The estate was broad and commanding rather than absurdly massive, with high walls, a wide entrance, and carefully maintained grounds that spoke of its importance.
Elifero slowed as he noticed a large gathering in front of the main entrance. People stood in two orderly rows, all facing a towering statue positioned at the centre of the courtyard. The statue was imposing without being monstrous, its presence commanding attention rather than inspiring outright fear. Something about it seemed to demand silence from those gathered before it.
Elifero stared at the scene. The people surrounding the statue wore traditional clothing unlike anything he had encountered since waking in the village. Their garments consisted of vibrant layers of fabric decorated with intricate floral patterns, while beads and polished stone necklaces rested against their chests. Colourful ornaments had been tied around their waists, adding to the ceremonial appearance of their attire.
Each person held something in their hands. One by one, they stepped forward to present their offerings. Some carried flowers, others held small wrapped objects, and a few brought what appeared to be food or handmade ornaments. Each offering was placed or cast near the statue's base before its bearer quietly returned to the line.
Elifero frowned, trying to make sense of what he was witnessing.
What are they doing?
He attempted to focus on the statue, but the entire scene seemed strangely distant. The vivid colours blurred together as people of all ages moved through the orderly lines, their figures passing beneath the statue's long shadow. It almost felt as though he were watching everything through a veil of fog. He blinked several times, hoping to clear the strange sensation, but before he could ask Olian what was happening, he noticed her changing direction.
"Wait."
Olian had already stepped away from the main road and begun following a narrow passage that curved along the side of the estate. Elifero glanced towards the entrance, then hurried after her.
"Hey. Why are we changing routes?"
Olian didn't slow down.
"The estate is right there, isn't it?"
"Just keep quiet," she replied. "And follow me."
Elifero stared at her back.
"That's not really an answer."
Olian ignored him, leaving him to hesitate briefly before sighing and following her.
The passage was narrow enough that two people would struggle to walk comfortably side by side. Tall walls bordered both sides, shielding the path from the view of those gathered at the front entrance. Elifero could now understand why he hadn't noticed it earlier. Unless someone already knew the route existed, they could easily walk past without realising there was another way into the estate.
After several minutes, the passage opened into a smaller courtyard behind the building. A heavy wooden door stood ahead, flanked by two guards carrying long spears. The moment they noticed the approaching figures, their posture changed, and one stepped forward to block the way.
"No unauthorised personnel are permitted through this entrance."
His sharp voice brought Elifero to an immediate halt, but Olian continued walking as though the warning had nothing to do with her.
"It's just me."
The guards froze. Recognition crossed their faces almost instantly, and both lowered themselves onto one knee.
"Our deepest apologies, Young Miss Olian."
Elifero blinked.
Young Miss?
One of the guards bowed his head.
"We were informed of your arrival, but we did not expect you to use the rear entrance instead of the front."
Olian stopped before them.
"It's fine."
Elifero looked from the kneeling guards to Olian, then back again.
"You know these people?"
She gave him a sideways glance.
"You could say that."
His curiosity grew, but before he could ask anything else, Olian addressed the guards.
"Considering what is happening at the front entrance, I decided not to use it. I find it uncomfortable."
The guards nodded as though they understood precisely what she meant. They rose and moved towards the door, preparing to let them through, but one of them suddenly noticed Elifero. His hand tightened around his spear.
"Stop."
Elifero froze as the second guard stepped forward.
"State your business here."
Elifero opened his mouth, but no words came out. He barely understood why he was there himself, let alone how to explain his presence to two armed guards.
"Or leave," the guard continued, his expression hardening. "You have three seconds before we remove you by force."
Elifero's heart slammed against his chest.
Three seconds?
His breathing immediately grew shallow. He didn't know what to say or how to react, and the growing tension left him struggling to form a coherent response.
"I—"
"He's my guest."
Olian's voice cut through the tension. Both guards immediately turned towards her.
"Treat him as you would treat me."
The change was instantaneous. Their expressions softened, their spears lowered, and without another word, they stepped aside.
Elifero remained still for a moment before finally releasing the breath he had been holding. His heartbeat gradually began to settle as Olian turned towards him.
"Come on."
He followed her through the entrance, only to discover that the estate felt entirely different from what he had imagined. It wasn't as vast as it had appeared from outside. Instead, its interior was refined, quiet, and old, carrying the atmosphere of a place that had preserved its history for generations.
Paintings decorated the walls, most depicting women dressed in elaborate ceremonial clothing. Some appeared young, while others looked ancient. Along the corridors, relics rested behind carved frames and within glass cases: metal objects, jewellery, decorated staffs, small statues, and countless things Elifero couldn't identify. Everything seemed carefully preserved, as though each item had survived from another age.
He found himself slowing down, his gaze wandering from one wall to the next as he tried to take in every painting and artefact.
"Are you coming?"
Olian's voice pulled him back to the present.
Elifero hurried after her.
"Sorry."
She shook her head, and they continued deeper into the estate until they reached a large wooden door decorated with intricate carved patterns. Olian stopped in front of it and turned towards him.
"This is the Chief's chamber."
Elifero looked at the door, then at her.
"Okay."
"Wait here."
He frowned.
"Why?"
"I need to speak with her alone." Olian placed one hand against the door. "It won't take long."
Elifero stared at her.
"You said that very confidently."
She ignored him and entered, allowing the door to close behind her.
Elifero sighed and waited.
An hour passed.
By then, he was sitting against the wall beside the door, his arms folded and his head resting against the wood behind him.
"It won't take long," he muttered, closing his eyes. "Right."
Another few minutes passed, followed by several more. Eventually, boredom overcame him. His eyelids grew heavier, and before he even realised what was happening, Elifero had fallen asleep.
Inside the chamber, Olian's conversation with the Chief eventually came to an end. The old woman gave a small nod.
"You may let him in."
Olian looked towards her.
"The boy?"
"Yes." The Chief smiled faintly. "I would like to meet him personally."
Olian stood.
"Alright."
She walked towards the door and opened it, only to find Elifero fast asleep against the wall, his head leaning awkwardly against one knee.
She stared at him.
"...Seriously?"
Olian nudged his shoulder, but he didn't respond. She tried again, this time pushing him more firmly.
"Wake up."
Elifero's eyes slowly opened.
"Huh...?"
He lifted his head and blinked at her.
"Is it time to go?"
A yawn escaped him as he stretched his arms. Rather than answering, Olian grabbed his wrist.
"Come inside."
Elifero blinked.
"What?"
"The Chief wants to see you."
Any remaining sleepiness vanished immediately.
"What?"
Olian pulled him to his feet.
"Come on."
Elifero stumbled after her and stepped into the chamber.
There, for the first time, he saw the Chief.
She was old. Very old. Elifero couldn't immediately tell whether she was approaching a hundred years of age or had already surpassed it. Short and thin, she appeared almost fragile beneath her clothing. Wrinkles covered her face, her hands looked delicate, and her skin was dry and aged. For one strange moment, he wondered whether she might simply collapse if she stood up too quickly.
She's the Chief?
The thought had barely formed when something else caught his attention.
Pressure.
Elifero stopped moving. His chest tightened, and the room suddenly felt heavier. Not physically—not exactly—but as though something invisible were pressing against him. His body stiffened, and his feet refused to move.
The Chief hadn't spoken or even shifted in her seat, yet Elifero's instincts were screaming at him.
Careful.
His skin prickled, and a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.
Why do I feel like this?
He glanced towards Olian. She stood calmly beside him, apparently unaffected by whatever he was experiencing.
How is she standing there like nothing's wrong?
His breathing grew uneven as his muscles remained tense. He felt strangely disconnected from his own body, as though his mind had retreated somewhere deep inside him while his instincts struggled to take control.
Am I going crazy?
The Chief watched him quietly. Elifero forced a small smile, not because he found anything amusing, but because he had no idea how else to react. The atmosphere had become unbearable, and he couldn't understand why.
Olian noticed his strange expression and tilted her head slightly. To her, his nervousness was understandable. Anyone meeting the Chief for the first time would probably feel intimidated. She had no idea that Elifero was experiencing something entirely different.
Then the old woman finally spoke.
"Come closer, my child."
Her voice was gentle and warm.
"There is nothing to fear."
The words cut through Elifero's spiralling thoughts. He blinked, swallowed, and managed a quiet response.
"...Okay."
He stepped forward slowly, one step at a time, until he stood roughly a metre away from her. His instincts insisted that this was close enough, and he had no desire to test them.
The Chief noticed his hesitation, and a quiet laugh escaped her.
"Just as Olian said."
Elifero looked confused.
"You are cautious around people," she explained, her laughter light and harmless.
Somehow, the oppressive sensation in the room seemed to ease. Elifero relaxed slightly, though he remained wary of the old woman.
The Chief then extended one hand towards him.
"Let me see your left hand."
"My hand?"
"Yes."
Elifero hesitated before raising it. Only then did he notice the cut across his palm. A thin wound stretched across the skin, with most of the blood dried but a few traces of red still visible.
"Oh."
He stared at it, trying to remember when it had happened. Earlier, while squeezing through the narrow passage behind the estate, he had lost his balance and scraped his hand against the corner of a wooden crate. At the time, he had barely noticed the injury and had since forgotten about it completely.
The Chief reached towards him.
"I will take care of that."
Elifero glanced at Olian, but she showed no sign of concern. Reluctantly, he allowed the Chief to take his hand.
Her fingers were warm. At first, Elifero assumed it was simply body heat, but the warmth gradually intensified until he felt compelled to look down at their joined hands.
His eyebrows drew together.
"What—"
A faint light appeared beneath the Chief's fingers.
Elifero froze.
Golden-yellow particles began drifting into the air, tiny at first, then multiplying until they floated around his palm like glowing dust suspended in sunlight. The chamber gradually brightened as the particles gathered around the wound.
Elifero's mouth fell open.
The injury began to change.
He stared as the dried blood shifted across his palm—not dripping or spreading, but moving backwards, as though time itself were reversing. The torn skin drew together, the cut gradually disappeared, and the final traces of red faded from his hand.
Then there was nothing.
No wound.
No scar.
No pain.
Elifero stared at his palm and turned it over before examining it again. His breathing stopped for a moment as his mind struggled to accept what he had just witnessed.
There had been a wound. He knew there had been.
Now it was completely gone.
"What...?"
He rubbed the spot where the injury had been, finding the skin perfectly smooth. The Chief chuckled softly, but Elifero could barely pay attention to her. He looked up at her, his voice trembling with disbelief.
"What did you just do to my hand?"
He examined his palm again.
"The scar... it's gone."
He gestured towards the air, searching for words to describe what he had seen.
"And those yellow—"
He stopped, his eyes widening as he tried again.
"Golden things. What were they?"
No one answered immediately. Elifero turned sharply towards Olian.
"Olian."
She looked at him.
"How are you not shocked by this?"
He raised his hand again, almost as though showing it to her might somehow make the impossible event easier to understand.
"Tell me this isn't real."
Olian remained quiet. To her, the problem wasn't whether it was real, but how to explain something so ordinary to her that it apparently seemed impossible to him.
Finally, she spoke.
"Everything you just saw..."
Elifero waited.
"...is real."
His expression went blank.
Olian continued.
"This power has been passed down for generations."
Elifero looked towards the Chief. The golden particles had already disappeared, but he could still feel the warmth lingering in his palm.
"Only the women of this village can inherit it," Olian explained.
She took a breath.
"It is called..."