"I don't know why you want to go to Mr. Jethro's house," Vesperion said, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. "But you should keep this in mind: if you go there this time, you will be greatly disappointed. You won't gain anything from that journey."
Darcelle paused, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Huh?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. She hadn’t expected this response at all.
Vesperion's eyes narrowed, studying her reaction. "Now that I’ve told you this, are you still going to waste your time trying to get to Mr. Jethro’s place?" he asked, his tone a mix of warning and curiosity.
Without a second thought, Darcelle stood tall and confidently answered, "Of course I will still go." She began walking toward him, her steps steady and purposeful. "I don’t know the way to Adolphus Noble School, and I have to see Mr. Jethro first, as per the last wish of my father," she explained, her gaze unwavering.
Vesperion said nothing for what felt like an eternity. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and perhaps a bit of frustration. His eyes seemed to wander, and Darcelle could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind as he processed her answer.
Then, after what seemed like an unusually long pause, he held his hand out toward her, a gesture that caught her attention. In his palm lay a small, delicate bracelet—its silver chain glimmering faintly, as if infused with a hidden magic.
"This is an ornament of the greatest witch of all time," Vesperion began, his voice carrying a reverence that made Darcelle pause. "Her name was Maria Varga."
Darcelle’s curiosity was piqued, and she instinctively stepped closer, her gaze fixed on the bracelet. It was beautiful, but there was something more to it—an aura of power surrounding it that she couldn’t quite place.
Vesperion continued, his tone growing more serious. "I have added a drop of blood from you inside," he revealed, his eyes locking onto hers. "This will allow you to pass through the protective shield surrounding Mr. Jethro’s place. Hence with this, it should help you cross it without being noticed or turned away."
Darcelle blinked in disbelief as she took the bracelet from his outstretched hand. She examined it closely, feeling a faint warmth emanating from it as if the bracelet itself was alive with magic. The delicate design seemed unassuming, but there was no mistaking the significance of the charm. It held a power she hadn’t fully understood—until now.
"You’re giving me this?" she asked quietly, her voice full of awe and uncertainty. Her fingers brushed over the smooth surface of the bracelet, almost as if she were afraid it might vanish at any moment.
Vesperion nodded solemnly. "Consider it a gift… and a warning," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "This journey you’re on is not without peril. There are forces at work that you cannot yet comprehend. But this bracelet will aid you in getting past one of the many barriers in your way." He paused, his gaze unwavering. "Whether or not it will truly help you achieve what you seek, only time will tell."
Darcelle tightened her grip on the bracelet, a sense of resolve settling over her. She didn’t fully understand everything Vesperion had said, but she knew one thing for certain: this journey was hers to make. No matter the risks or disappointments that awaited her, she would not turn back.
"Thank you," she said, her voice quiet but firm, her eyes meeting Vesperion’s for the first time with full determination.
"You may now take your leave," Vesperion said with a casual gesture towards the door, his fingers sweeping in the air as if ushering her out. Yet Darcelle remained rooted to the spot, her expression far from the finality he’d expected. She didn’t budge.
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"I have another question..." she said, her voice hesitating slightly as she looked up at him. "It’s about a friend of mine."
Vesperion’s eyes narrowed, a knowing glint flashing in them. "A friend? Or do you mean the man you're in love with?" His words were laced with amusement, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Darcelle’s face flushed with surprise, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Eh? No, no, no!" she quickly interjected, waving her hands in front of her face as if to ward off the suggestion. "You misunderstood," she added, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "Other than my father, this friend is the second person who’s treated me well," she said with a small, fond smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Vesperion arched an eyebrow, watching her carefully, clearly amused by her flustered response. Darcelle seemed to regain her composure after a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want to see him again, and… be able to thank him," she added quietly, her voice softening as she cast a fleeting glance at Vesperion. She looked away almost immediately, as if the confession was more than she had intended to share.
Vesperion didn’t immediately respond, his gaze flicking to her face for a brief moment before he sighed, shifting his posture. "I’ll answer your question," he said with a certain cold finality, "but this shrine... it has its own set of rules."
Darcelle looked at him, confusion furrowing her brows. "What is it that you want?" she asked, her voice more curious than demanding.
Vesperion’s gaze drifted away from her for a moment, his posture becoming even more aloof as he tilted his head slightly. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at her through his peripheral vision, as if considering the request before responding. "First things first," he began, his voice a low murmur, "you should tell me your deepest, darkest secret."
Darcelle blinked, her heart giving a slight jolt at his words. "Deepest, darkest secret?" she echoed, her tone one of confusion. She didn’t know whether to be offended or puzzled. Her brows furrowed in genuine uncertainty as she tried to comprehend what he meant.
Vesperion chuckled softly, a quiet, dark sound that made the air around them feel heavier. He turned back toward her, his gaze piercing and almost predatory. "Don’t worry about it too much," he said, his voice now tinged with a bit of playfulness. "I will answer your question. But consider this a favor. One day, you will have to pay me back." His words were coated with something unspoken, something that made the air crackle with a subtle tension.
Darcelle’s expression softened, her eyes brightening with gratitude. "Really? Thank you so much... thank you," she said, her words bubbling out with a genuine warmth.
Vesperion raised an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping onto his face. "I haven’t even told you the price you’ll pay, so why are you so happy?" he asked with a hint of amusement. He exhaled sharply, clearly not bothered by her enthusiasm. "Anyway, forget about it. The person you’re looking for is at Adolphus Noble School," he added, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
"Adolphus Noble School?" Darcelle repeated, her heart skipping a beat. Was this a coincidence? The same school her father had mentioned? She couldn’t help the flicker of hope that ignited in her chest.
Vesperion nodded, his gaze impassive. "That’s where you’ll find him. But don’t waste any more time standing here," he said, his tone shifting back to the cold indifference that she had grown accustomed to. He waved his hand dismissively, and the massive doors to the throne room creaked open, revealing the dark, mysterious expanse beyond.
Darcelle’s heart fluttered in her chest as the doors opened, her thoughts racing. "Thank you so much," she said, her voice trembling with excitement. She lowered her head in a graceful bow, an expression of deep gratitude on her face. Without another word, she turned and sprinted toward the exit, a light, joyful giggle escaping her lips as she ran out of the room. Her heart soared as she imagined the journey ahead, her mind filled with the hope of finally finding her friend and fulfilling her father’s last wish.
As soon as the doors closed behind her, a presence materialized in the shadows—a figure stepping silently into the room. It was Helios, his tall form casting a long shadow across the stone floor. He moved to stand beside Vesperion, his gaze following Darcelle’s retreating figure. Neither of them spoke for a moment, the air thick with the quiet understanding between them.
Finally, it was Helios who broke the silence, his voice low and measured. "Do you think she’ll succeed?"
Vesperion’s lips curled into a barely noticeable smile, his eyes reflecting a depth of thought. "Perhaps," he said simply, his tone enigmatic. "But her journey is just beginning, and there are far more dangers ahead than she realizes."
The two figures stood together in quiet contemplation, watching Darcelle disappear into the distance, each of them lost in their own thoughts about the fate that awaited her.