A steady, rhythmic knock echoed through the quiet room, pulling Zylas from a dreamless sleep.
"Wake up, Zylas. The sun's already up. It's time for breakfast," Grant's voice called out from the other side of the door. It was soft but firm, carrying a weight that would remind one of a father waking his child for school.
Zylas groaned, squinting against the light peeking through the curtains. "Oh… uh… yeah. Coming," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.
He kicked the blanket off and sat up, the events of the previous night hitting him all at once. His hand throbbed beneath the bandages, a sharp reminder of the Drowned projection he had spent hours pummeling. He stood up, his muscles stiff, and stumbled into the bathroom. A splash of cold water and a refreshing shower finally cleared the fog from his brain, though the sight of the silver ring still clinging to his finger made his heart skip a beat.
When he finally made it downstairs, the smell of sizzling pancakes and coffee filled the air.
"Morning, Grant," Zylas said, taking a seat at the table.
"Morning, Zylas. Sit down and eat. A young man like you ought to take care of his physique, especially after the stunt you pulled last night," Grant said, sliding a plate toward him.
Zylas sighed, picking up a fork. "Yes, yes, I get it. I have to listen to what you say."
"I'm happy you understand. It's for your own good," Grant responded with a faint, satisfied smile. "Anyways, eat quickly. You already woke up late. It's almost time for the meeting."
Zylas froze, a piece of pancake halfway to his mouth. "Wait, already!?"
"Yes, so you better hurry."
Panic flared in Zylas's chest. He didn't want to be late for a Paragon, especially the one who might remember him stealing a divine relic. He began stuffing pancakes into his mouth at an inhuman speed, barely chewing before swallowing. He looked like a man possessed. To wash it all down, he grabbed a bottle of soda from the table and gulped it down in seconds, letting out a sharp breath as he slammed the empty bottle back down.
"Okay, I'm done eating," he gasped.
Grant watched the display with amusement. "That was quick. How is it even possible to do that?" Grant asked with surprise.
"It's something that only superior people can learn. You wouldn't know about it." Zylas mocked Grant in a friendly way.
"Oh? Well anyways, we have to go meet your…?" He trailed off, looking at Zylas as if waiting for him to fill in the blank.
"Acquaintance," Zylas said firmly. "That I met once, by chance."
Grant raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"Yes. Nothing more."
"Sure… whatever you say, kid." Grant grabbed his keys, still wearing that annoying, knowing grin.
Zylas was tired of the misunderstandings. "Can we just go already?"
"I knew you were looking forward to meeting her. I was right after all," Grant teased, heading for the door.
Zylas just sighed, choosing silence over a losing argument. He followed Grant outside to the driveway, where the white, pristine car sat sparkling in the morning sun. They climbed in, Zylas in the passenger seat and Grant pulled out of the estate.
The drive back to the Academy was normal. They passed through the giant gates of the school and found a spot in the crowded parking lot.
Inside the main hall, the atmosphere was silent. "She's in that room over there," Grant said, pointing to a door guarded by two heavy-set men. "I can't come in since she requested a strictly private meeting. I'll be waiting out here."
Zylas nodded, "I'll be going then."
"Don't fumble," Grant whispered, giving him a playful shove toward the door.
"I told you, it's not like that." Zylas said back, but he didn't stop walking.
As he reached the door, the two bodyguards stepped into his path. One of them looked at a digital tablet, then back at Zylas. "Zylas?"
"Yes," Zylas replied, trying to keep his voice steady.
"He matches the description," the second guard grunted.
"Alright, you can go inside," the first one said, pulling the door open just wide enough for Zylas to slip through.
The door clicked shut behind him, cutting off the noise of the hallway. The room was luxurious, filled with soft light and the scent of expensive tea. Sylvia Vingólf was sitting on a plush couch, looking perfectly composed as she sipped from a porcelain cup. She looked exactly like she had in the ruins, yet entirely different. The terror and dirt were gone, replaced by the regal aura of a Paragon.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Sylvia asked, her voice smooth and calm.
Zylas took a breath, he walked over and sat on the couch opposite her. "I don't quite understand. Have we met before?"
Sylvia set her tea down slowly. She leaned forward, her red eyes locking onto his with a look of intense doubt. "Have you ever… been stuck in a cave with a hole inside of it?"
Zylas didn't blink. "Weird question, and oddly specific. But no, I haven't." He replied, trying to sound oblivious.
Sylvia hummed, studying his face. "You talk rather casually to me. Most people would act formal after just hearing the title of a Paragon."
"That's… that's just how I am," Zylas responded, crossing his arms.
"Is that so?" Sylvia's eyes didn't leave his.
"Yes, it is. Have you called me here just to ask questions like these?"
Sylvia ignored his jab. Her gaze dropped onto his hand.
"Hey, Zylas."
"Yes? What is it?"
"Where'd you get the ring that you're wearing?" she asked. There was a spark of victory in her eyes now, the look of a predator that had finally cornered its prey.
Zylas froze. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He had spent so much time worrying about what he would say that he had completely forgotten to hide the evidence.
"Oh… I—" Zylas started, his mind scrambling for an excuse. A family heirloom? A gift? He couldn't find a single lie that wouldn't fall apart.
But Sylvia didn't let him finish. She let out a small, soft laugh. "Stop it, Zylas. I don't hold any malice towards you. In the end, you saved me, after all."
She gave him a sweet, genuine smile, one that didn't belong to a cold Paragon.
Zylas blinked, the tension leaving his shoulders. "Seriously? You don't hate me for stealing the ring?"
"So you do remember," Sylvia replied instantly.
Zylas's jaw dropped. He had been baited. He had just walked right into her trap and confirmed everything. He sat back, shaking his head at his own stupidity.
"But yes," Sylvia continued. "I don't dislike you for taking the ring. It was a means to save ourselves, so why would I hold a grudge? And didn't you tell me to just trust you?"
A massive sense of relief spread through Zylas's body. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding since he woke up. He leaned back and gave her a small smile. "Yeah. You're right."
"All that aside," Sylvia said, her eyes returning to the silver band, "what does it do?"
"Huh?"
"The Ring of Eternity. What does it actually do?" she clarified.
Zylas looked down at the metal. "To be honest… I don't really know either."
Sylvia's brow furrowed. "What? Haven't you tried to use it? You went through so much to get it."
"I have," Zylas admitted, his voice dropping. "But it wouldn't activate. It told me it required the blood of a Paragon to work. It said all abilities were restricted."
He looked up at her. "It seems only someone like you could actually make it do something."
Sylvia leaned back, looking surprised.
"Really? I expected some kind of limitation, but I didn't think it would require a Paragon's blood to even function remotely. A "divine relic" that needs an Origin God's apostle to wake it up… it makes sense, in a twisted way."
Without a second thought, Sylvia leaned down and bit the tip of her finger. A small, bright red bead of blood welled up instantly.
"Give me your hand," she said.
Zylas didn't hesitate. He raised his right arm, stretching his hand across the space between the couches. Sylvia reached out and held his hand with her own, her grip surprisingly strong. She hovered her bitten finger directly above the silver ring.
Zylas watched, mesmerized, as a single drop of blood fell. The moment it touched the silver surface, the metal didn't let it smear or slide off. Instead, the Ring of Eternity seemed to shiver. It greedily absorbed the blood, the crimson liquid disappearing into the metal until it was pristine once again.
"That should be enough, I assume," Sylvia said, with an expectant look in her eyes.
Zylas looked at the ring. It felt different now. The cold, dead weight was gone. In its place was a low, vibrating warmth that felt like a sleeping beast finally opening one eye.