Two weeks of grueling travel ensued.
The return journey lacked the frantic urgency of the mission's onset. After nearly half a month of traversing the wilds upon his Lilacorn, Seraph finally reached his destination.
He re-entered Sanctus under the shroud of midnight. A bloated, golden moon hung suspended in the firmament, casting its soft hue upon the earth. The silvery lunar aura caused the Stormcloud Citadel to shimmer with the brilliance of a gemstone set amidst the dark.
Whilst the night was often the favoured hour for magis to pursue their crafts, the demon hunters had long since departed for their vigils, and the rest had succumbed to slumber.
The Stormcloud Citadel had descended into a profound silence, guarded only by the knight golems who stood along the galleries, as mute and lifeless as they were every day.
Seraph paced through the familiar gloom of the corridors. The pale luminescence from mageia torches and the crystals clutched by the knight golems offered a guide, yet their radiance paled in comparison to the brilliance of high noon. Still, the young man had always savoured such hushed hours; his heart found a peculiar serenity whenever the silver moonlight resonated with the mana within his veins.
As the young magis advanced through the silence toward his chambers, he glimpsed a girl with flame-red hair. Evelyn stood lingering beside a knight golem, a solitary figure cloaked in the shifting shadows.
'Evelyn... what business brings her here at such an ungodly hour?' Seraph mused.
His shadow stretched past her in the stillness. He offered nothing but a faint, polite smile as he moved to pass without further address; the hour was late, and he had no desire for Evelyn to perceive his presence as a threat.
It was then—
"Wait..." Evelyn's voice echoed through the vaulted silence.
The young man's stride faltered as if ensnared by a spell. Seraph regarded her with genuine astonishment; he had not expected her to actually hail him. They shared no intimacy; in truth, the only girl with whom he held any closeness was Marina, a bond forged through ten years of shared growth since their early days.
He knew Evelyn only by sight. Despite their occasional encounters, they remained strangers who did little more than exchange passing glances along the galleries of Sanctus.
"Greetings, Evelyn. Do you still pursue the arts at this hour? While diligence is a magis's sturdiest ally, the deep night is a treacherous foe to a lady. I trust you hold your wellbeing in equal regard," Seraph greeted her, his tone impeccably civil.
"I..." Evelyn hesitated, her head bowed so low that her ruby-red tresses cascaded over her cheeks, as if shielding her bashfulness from view.
Seeing the girl remain mute, Seraph dared not intrude upon her silence any longer. "Fatigue must have claimed you... I wish you a peaceful night," he uttered, resuming his stride.
"You..." Evelyn whispered, her voice barely a ripple in the air.
Seraph turned back, his brow furrowed in quiet curiosity. Evelyn attempted to retreat further into the golem's shadow to evade his scrutiny, yet the amber flicker of the mageia torches betrayed her.
She possessed none of Marina's gentle grace, nor Lenora's sweetness; she lacked the refined charm of Sophia. Her features were sharp, carved with a striking clarity. Her face was a perfect oval, reminiscent of a falling droplet, while her brows arched with the lethal precision of a recurve bow. Her eyes held the reflection of a fierce, smouldering fire; coupled with her vibrant hair, she was the quintessential image of a high-spirited warrior.
"Is there something I might assist you with?" Seraph inquired, his suspicion mounting.
"Might I have a word with you?" Evelyn asked, her tone flat and devoid of emotion.
"At such an hour?" Seraph countered.
"Mmm... you're seldom ever free on other days," the girl replied with a curt nod.
"Yet, should anyone witness us conversing in the dead of night, it may tarnish your reputation." Seraph remained uncertain of her intent.
"Your chambers, then..." Evelyn muttered, averting her gaze.
"My chambers?" Seraph repeated, as if doubting his own hearing.
"Yes... would it be a burden?" Evelyn locked her gaze onto his, her intensity unwavering.
"No burden at all... it is quite an honour for my humble quarters to be graced by so fair a lady. If it does not displease you, pray, follow me," Seraph remarked with a relaxed cadence, gesturing for her to follow.
The young man remained unconvinced that this was the most prudent course of action; yet, perhaps the girl harboured a desire to consult him on some mageia theory, given his former tenure as an Assistant Curator.
As the pair crossed the threshold, they were met by a lifeless, abyssal dark. With a sharp flick of Seraph's fingers, the mageia candles ignited instantly. Within the Stormcloud Citadel, chambers were partitioned by scale; once an acomage ascended to the official rank of magis, they earned the right to a more expansive suite. Such resources were the prerogatives of status, escalating with one's rank. Yet, of late, Seraph had been so consumed by his missions that he'd neglected such formalities. Even Marina had begun to lament that his visits had grown far more infrequent than in days past.
Seraph's private quarters, though personal, remained remarkably cramped. Furnished with only the essentials, the chamber was of such stark simplicity it could be deemed lowly if measured against the opulence of a Grandmaster's suite.
"You may take a seat upon the bed," Seraph remarked as he hung his white cloak.
Evelyn moved to sit in a hollow silence. Since following him, she'd scarcely uttered a word, her gaze tethered to her small, tightly clenched hands. Seraph found himself unable to decipher her thoughts. He drew a chair to sit opposite her.
"What matter is it that you wish to discuss?" Seraph asked, piercing the silence.
A heavy quietude swallowed Evelyn for a long moment. She looked up, her emerald eyes fixing upon him like a predator weighing its quarry. Yet, the white-knuckled grip of her hands betrayed the burgeoning anxiety within. In the room, there was only the flicker of candles and the spectral glow of the moon; the stillness rendered the atmosphere oppressively stifling.
"Must I have an agenda simply to speak with you?" Evelyn asked, her emerald orbs scrutinising him with a cold intensity.
Seraph met her gaze in silence, his mind momentarily failing to process the girl's remark. The labyrinthine workings of her thoughts were something he had never quite managed to navigate.
"I don't follow," he replied, his confusion palpable.
Evelyn offered no clarification, remaining cloaked in a persistent quiet. There was only the rhythmic cadence of their breathing, harmonising with the distant chorus of insects from the Forest of Gems beyond.
Between them, the silence of the cramped chamber began to weave a peculiar, heavy atmosphere, partitioned only by the spectral beams of the moon.
"The weather's quite nice today, don't you think?" Seraph ventured, his mind hitting a dead end in the stifling air.
"..."
Unfortunately, his query sank like lead into the molten depths of the girl's simmering silence—a volcano of resentment poised to erupt and swallow him whole. Her emerald eyes remained luminous, like fireflies trapped in the moonlight, dissecting him as if she intended to peel him back and scrutinise the very core of his being.