Blizzards swept across a frozen landscape of ice and snow. A young girl with orange hair appeared, landing lightly on the snow-covered ground. The storm raged around her, reducing visibility to little more than swirling white.
A red aura shimmered around her, shielding her from the biting cold. A large backpack hung from her shoulders, and clutched in her hand was a heavy tome adorned with intricate gears.
She looked confused at first, scanning her surroundings. Then, after a moment, she turned south and began walking.
After about an hour, the silhouette of a massive mountain emerged through the white veil. At its base, partly hidden by drifting snow, was an entrance.
Inside, the air shifted. The cave felt unexpectedly warm, walls lined with rows of softly glowing torches. Ancient inscriptions curled across the stone.
She moved as though she knew the cave well, passing by several side corridors without hesitation. Occasionally, shadowy figures emerged from the darkness, bowing respectfully as she walked deeper.
Finally, she stepped into a vast chamber where many tunnels converged. One entrance stood apart: a large black metallic door etched with the image of a dragon. It slowly creaked open as she approached.
Beyond lay a grand hall, its scale befitting royalty. At the far end sat a woman on a throne — dressed in black, her skin marked by dark scales. Her hair and pupils were the same deep, endless black.
Seeing the fragile girl enter, the woman's expression softened into a smile.
"How was the reunion?"
Her voice carried both warmth and quiet amusement.
Amy ran forward, dropping her heavy bag at the steps before the throne. She climbed up and leaped onto the woman's lap.
"I met someone new," Amy beamed, happiness bright in her eyes.
The woman hesitated. Amy often hid her pain behind playfulness — but today she seemed genuinely joyful.
"You know my friend from when I was small? I saw her yesterday," Amy explained, words tumbling out.
The woman frowned slightly. She knew Amy wasn't originally from this world; it should have been impossible for anyone else from Amy's past to appear here — unless the gods themselves had intervened.
Then a memory stirred: Saramiel's prophecy. Patting Amy's head gently, she asked:
"Can you describe this friend of yours?"
"Sky blue hair and eyes."
The woman's thoughts caught. Only one person came to mind who matched that description: the Elven Queen who had disappeared years ago.
"Hmm... strange... But I'm glad to see you finally smiling."
She pulled Amy closer. After a while, the girl drifted into sleep in her arms.
Left in silence, the woman's mind turned inward. Could it be that she returned? The queen had vanished while pregnant; if this girl existed, perhaps the queen was still alive, hidden somewhere in the world.
"Elna... I wonder where you are."
---
The bodies were carried back to town. Seras and Zin walked side by side through the dim streets. Zin's seal had fractured in his earlier rage — a seal placed long ago by his master, grandmother, grandfather, and great grandaunt.
They must have sensed it by now. If the seal fully broke, he knew he could never return to Elnor.
"You seem worried about what'll happen when that seal breaks," Seras teased lightly. "Don't worry — you'll just have to stay with my husband."
She always stretched the word husband playfully, which made Zin cringe. Despite her age, she still looked deceptively young; some mistook her for Ephini's sister rather than ancestor.
Zin forced a sigh, pushing aside the thought. More pressing was the question lingering in his mind: Who exactly is Gilly?
---
They descended into the lower part of a building where Valmor's office was. Inside, several figures had gathered to discuss recent events.
Seras sat opposite Valmor, with Zin beside her. Pom stood quietly against the wall behind them, with Penre beside him. On Valmor's other side sat Pom's father, Asrck, near Ephini. Finally, there was a human named Vesta, present as an observer.
Much had happened since Gilly's arrival. They had come together to decide what must be done.
"I think we should hand her over to the Elven authority," Penre suggested first.
Ephini's gaze fell, sadness flickering in her eyes.
"But I believe we can handle it ourselves, given she's Elna's daughter... What do you think, Asrck?"
Pom's father stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"I won't lie — losing my son-in-law is painful. But I can't blame her. It seems this was always her destiny."
"Saramiel's prophecy, right?" Seras murmured, rubbing her temple. Since Gilly's arrival, she had been under immense strain — even the gods watched her now. Zin alone knew just how deeply the truth ran.
Penre raised a hand again.
"Then let's at least assign a guard to watch over her."
Ephini shook her head.
"That's a problem. Remember what happened at the cabin, where her friend was kept?"
A heavy silence fell over the room. They were running out of options.
"Do we hand her to the Divine Council?" Valmor asked. It seemed logical, yet everyone knew the council's hidden agendas — she might face even greater danger there.
Keeping her in town also meant risking everyone's safety, especially if the prophecy had already begun to unfold.
"But this must be kept secret from the royals," Seras's voice cut through, sharp and clear.
They all nodded.
"I suggest we put her into training," Asrck said at last, "and when the time comes, send her away. It's the least we can do for Elna."
Penre frowned.
"I don't like keeping her here — but if anything happens, you'll take responsibility, right?"
He fixed his gaze on Seras. She laughed softly, her eyes glowing. The air in the room grew oppressively heavy.
"Just because you reached Apex rank doesn't make you special," she said, releasing the pressure with a calm smile.
"Your nasty attitude never changes," Asrck chuckled, trying to ease the tension.
Penre, however, felt the threat sharply. He glanced at Pom, who whispered:
"Don't provoke her. She has a longer history than you realize."
Penre's mind raced. This woman, Seras — always present in the village, looking young but not related to Ephini. Slowly, the truth dawned. His eyes widened as he turned to Zin, who avoided his gaze.
"Ah... seems he figured it out," Zin muttered.
The room turned to Penre. He had realized: Seras was one of the royals — and of the ancient generation of elves.
"No need to apologize," Seras said softly. "Just remember courtesy. If it were Katharine, Elin, or Saramiel, you might be dead or at least badly injured."
Penre lowered his head in acknowledgment.
The meeting shifted back to its main purpose: how to prepare Gilly for the future that awaited her.