Olivia's magical workshop was steeped in a heavy silence. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass ceiling, casting soft, bright shadows on the green marble walls streaked with silver veins that seemed to pulse with a living current. The large wooden table at the center, adorned with crystal orbs that shimmered with swirling light, floating quills, and bowls filled with enchanted liquids, stood as if bearing witness to the moment. Shelves stretched to the ceiling, brimming with ancient scrolls, weathered books, and jars where the dust of stars glowed faintly. The scent of frosty mint and luminous night-blooming flowers lingered in the air, though the fireplace, with its sky-blue flames that once radiated gentle warmth, now seemed colder than ever. Through the large arched window, silk curtains swayed lightly in the breeze, revealing a distant view of the tribe.
Olivia, still standing by the table, gazed at Rio with eyes full of doubt. His question about divine emissaries—something that shouldn't have formed in the mind of a five-year-old boy—had deeply unsettled her. Yet she had a mission from William, the leader of the Sun Tribe: to train and guide Rio. She couldn't let this moment disrupt her calm or jeopardize her task. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the table's edge and forced a smile onto her lips with visible effort. But within her, doubt and fear continued to churn.
On the other side, Rio sat on a velvet bench, his white hair glinting in the light, his silver eyes reflecting an uncanny intelligence. He knew he'd messed up. His question about the emissaries was too big, raised too soon. As a reincarnated soul from another world, brought here with X's help, he should've been more cautious. He didn't want to stoke Olivia's suspicions—or anyone else's—any further. He'd spent years grappling with William's doubts and had learned to mask his emotions. So, with a shy smile and an embarrassed expression, he said:
"Olivia, I think I got too serious! Let's talk about something else—like… how do those gates work?"
Olivia stared at him for a moment. Rio's attempt to change the subject was obvious, and it deepened her suspicions. Rio wasn't just a little boy. His intelligence, his way of speaking, even his feigned calm—none of it fit a five-year-old. A complex persona sat before her, one that didn't align with his age. Until now, Olivia had only intended to teach him, but a new goal took shape in her mind: to understand Rio, to uncover who he truly was and what he was hiding. From that moment, her responses grew sharper, more deliberate, each word part of a plan to probe his mind.
With a calm but measured voice, she said:
"The gates, huh? Alright, I'll tell you. These massive frameworks run on ancient magic. There's a kind of magical current in them that connects two distant points. You just step inside, close your eyes for a moment, and when you open them, you're somewhere else."
Rio, with exaggerated enthusiasm, replied: "Wow, really? So it's like a magic door! Who made them?"
Olivia leaned closer, her eyes fixed intently on his face. "No one knows, Rio. They've existed since ancient times, before any civilization even formed on the Parmis continent. Some say the gods built them, others think it was a lost race. What do you think?"
Rio paused for a beat. He knew Olivia was cleverly testing him. With a laugh, he said: "Me? I don't know anything! Maybe dragons made them, right? They're strong!"
Olivia smiled, but it lacked warmth. "Maybe. What made you ask that question?"
Her voice was soft, yet it carried a sharp curiosity, as if waiting for Rio to let something slip.
Rio shrugged and said: "I don't know, I'm just… curious! The world seems so amazing—how could I not be?" His heart raced, but he kept his voice steady. He couldn't afford to fuel Olivia's suspicions further.
Olivia fell silent for a moment, then walked to a shelf and picked up another scroll. As she unrolled it, she said: "Alright, curiosity's a good thing. Let's talk more about Parmis."
Her gaze settled on Rio—kind, yet unnerving.
From that point on, teaching Rio was no longer just instruction; it became a subtle game. Rio asked questions, Olivia answered, but with every word, she sought to pierce the depths of his mind, searching for the hidden truth behind this strange boy sitting before her.
Their conversation in the magical workshop stretched until sunset. The sunlight filtering through the stained-glass ceiling faded, giving way to orange and red shadows that streaked across the green marble walls with silver veins. The wooden table, with its crystal orbs and magical bowls, glowed faintly in the dusk. The shelves of scrolls and books stood in heavy silence, while the scent of frosty mint and night-blooming flowers mingled with the evening chill. The fireplace's sky-blue flames still emitted a quiet warmth, but the arched window, its silk curtains now still, framed a view of the tribe settling into the night's peace.
As night fell, it was time for Rio to return to the palace. Olivia, with a cautious smile, said: "I think that's enough for today, master Rio. We'll continue tomorrow."
Rio nodded and replied simply: "Thanks, Olivia. Have a good night."
He rose from the velvet bench and headed for the door. Outside, Elian awaited him, his black armor gleaming like a tall shadow in the dim sunset light, his glowing red eyes fixed on Rio from beneath his mysterious helmet.
The tribe lay in relative stillness. The cobblestone streets, bustling with voices and the scent of fresh bread by day, were now empty and quiet. Only the sound of Rio and Elian's footsteps echoed on the stones. On the way back, Rio's mind was a storm of thoughts. He didn't know what would happen if his true identity—a reincarnated soul from another world—was revealed. Would his family reject him? Would the tribe fear him even more? Yet he was certain he couldn't hide the truth from them forever—not from Maria, Adrina, Nadia, Setia, or even William, the people he'd grown attached to. This duality weighed on his mind, making his steps heavier.
Elian, walking beside him, tilted his head slightly and said in a deep voice: "Are you alright, master Rio?"
Lost in thought, Rio flashed a quick smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… a little tired." He didn't want to to disclose anything away—not to Elian, not to anyone.
Elian nodded, though his enigmatic air remained beneath his helmet. In a calm but weighty tone, he said: "Good. Because that's the only answer a man should give—especially if his family asks. You always say you're fine, even if you're not."
Rio froze mid-step, his feet rooted to the cobblestones. He looked at Elian in surprise. A strange feeling stirred within him—a warning bell, or perhaps a hint. Elian took a few steps forward, then stopped and glanced back. His red eyes glinted in the darkness beneath his helmet, his face still hidden. For a moment, a deep silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words.
Rio wasn't sure what Elian meant. Had he seen something in him? A secret, a doubt? Quietly, he asked: "Always?"
Without moving, Elian replied: "Yes, always. It's the only answer you should give." His voice was like a lesson—simple yet profound, as if it held a meaning Rio would one day grasp more fully.
Rio stared at Elian for a moment, unsure of what to say. But something clicked inside him—Elian was teaching him a lesson about concealment, about surviving in this world. He nodded in acknowledgment and said: "Alright, I get it."
Then, with calmer steps, he continued alongside Elian.
As they neared the palace, Rio's mind still buzzed with questions, but a new feeling had emerged—a sense that he needed to be more careful, to learn how to navigate this strange world. The palace's lights glimmered in the distance, and Rio knew this was only the beginning of his journey.
Some time later, Rio and Elian approached the palace under the silence of night. Moonlight bathed the courtyard's cobblestones, casting long shadows from the dragon-carved columns. A cool breeze swept across the Sun Tribe's floating island, the distant roar of a waterfall tumbling off the cliff's edge resonating in the air. As they entered the grounds, Rio's gaze fell on Setia. His sister stood in the middle of the courtyard, her face glistening with sweat, clad in a magnificent white gown of shimmering, delicate fabric. The dress, with its subtle folds and silver threads, glowed in the moonlight, as if woven from enchanted silk.
With every movement, Setia seemed to flow like a stream of gentle light. She practiced with clenched fists, her motions oddly slow yet precise and focused, as if lost in another world, oblivious to her surroundings.
Until that moment, Rio had never seen Setia like this. His playful, mischievous sister, always full of laughter, now bore a serious, determined expression—as if she'd transformed into someone else entirely. Curious, he stepped toward her. Sensing his approach, Setia took a deep breath, unclenched her fists, and abandoned her strange practice. Her eyes met Rio's, and suddenly, with a warm smile, she rushed over and enveloped him in a hug, kissing his cheeks with her usual cheerful tone: "Rio! Where've you been, you little troublemaker? How're you?"
Rio, thrilled by this sudden change and his sister's joy, laughed and said: "I'm good, Setia! What were you doing over there?"
Setia grinned mischievously. "Trying to catch the attention of the 'Threads'!" She winked at him.
Rio raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Threads? What's that?"
Setia paused, catching Elian's subtle headshake out of the corner of her eye—a silent signal that "it's not time yet." With a loud laugh, she said: "Oh, never mind that! Come on, tell me what you learned today!"
She brushed it off with a joke, but Rio noticed the shift. Still, he didn't want to press her, so he tucked the question away and followed her lead.
Later, Rio and Setia sat beneath an ancient tree under the moonlight, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. The tree's silver leaves shimmered, casting soft shadows on the ground. Rio began recounting what he'd learned from Olivia—about the Parmis continent, the massive gates, the gods, and their mysteries. Setia listened intently, occasionally interrupting with a playful jab: "Wow, Rio, with all these big thoughts, I bet you're some kind of god yourself!"
Elian, standing a short distance away, watched the scene. His black armor gleamed in the moonlight, his red eyes beneath the helmet gazing calmly at the siblings' joy. Then, with a smooth, silent motion, he stepped back and faded away into the courtyard's shadows.
Some time later, at the island's edge—where the ground dropped into a deep, dark abyss—a deathly silence reigned. The nearby waterfall roared as it plunged from the cliffs into the unknown depths below. Elian emerged from the dense surrounding forest, his tall figure and black armor casting a majestic shadow against the moonlight. Beside him walked Nadia, her dark robe billowing, her face cold and furious. With them was a man—a human—his hands bound, his eyes burning with hatred. Elian and Nadia led him to the cliff's edge.
William, leader of the Sun Tribe, stood there. His fiery red hair fluttered in the wind, his crimson, emotionless eyes fixed on the horizon, as if seeing beyond this world. His light armor glinted in the moonlight, his hands clasped behind his back. His presence, even in silence, radiated a deep, primal fear. The waterfall was roaring beside him, but he remained still, like a rock weathered by millennia of storms.
The silence was oppressive until William, with a low, icy voice—without turning his gaze—said: "Do they know?"
The captive said nothing. His face flushed with rage, his eyes screaming hatred, but his lips stayed sealed. In that instant, Nadia moved with savage speed, like a predator seizing prey. Her hand shot to the man's neck, the crack of breaking bone echoing sharply in the air. Before anyone could react, she flung his lifeless body off the cliff with ruthless force. His body vanished into the darkness, and the sound of it striking the rocks below never reached their ears—only the roar of the waterfall filled the silence.
Nadia, her voice thick with anger and impatience, turned to her father: "Now what?"
William paused, his silence colder than stone. Then, with a sidelong glance at Elian, he said: "The elves have been trying to contact us for a while. Go see what they want."
Elian inclined his head with dignity. "As you command, my lord." With a fluid, silent step, he disappeared into the forest, swallowed by the night.
William remained standing in place. His hands were clasped behind his back, his fingers rubbing together slowly, hints of deep thought flickering across his demeanor. Suddenly, he turned his fiery red eyes toward Nadia and said in a calm but weighty voice:
"Keep a closer eye on Rio from now on."
Nadia, exasperated by her father's coldness and indifference, flashed eyes full of anger but nodded without a word. With swift, sharp steps, she turned back toward the forest, her dark robe fluttering in the wind as she vanished into the shadows.
William was now alone. He stared at the moon, its light falling across his face and casting deep shadows beneath his eyes. In his mind, memories of a man with white hair and blue eyes came alive—a man who had always stood by his side, offering a calm smile and a gaze full of certainty. William let out a deep sigh and murmured under his breath:
"I wish you were here now, my friend."
His voice was swallowed by the roar of the waterfall, and he continued to gaze at the moon, as if searching for an answer he would never find.