Deborah's POV
I stared at the man before me, my mind swirling with questions. How could he possibly know me? As far as I knew, I was born in Murias, with no connection to Sky Cities or its people.
Moreover, Maeve had always been in Tirnanog for as long as I could remember.
In Tirnanog, the roles of women were complex—some had positions of importance, some were widows of werewolves, and others lived solely as tools, existing only to bear children. But Maeve didn't quite fit into any of those molds.
In my dreams, Maeve was silent, yet she held a unique presence, something that seemed out of place in Tirnanog's oppressive, barren world.
I couldn't shake the question—how could Maeve be connected to Sky Cities? Or was it that I didn't know her past well enough?
No, I had it wrong.
Maeve was a witch, meant to belong to the Sky Cities' Caersidi. After all, she was a descendant of the Blackwood family, which was evident from the aura of power she exuded.
But this man… he clearly wasn't from the Blackwood family. I was familiar with the characteristics of the Blackwood family; their members carried a certain gentleness in their magic. But this man had a sharp, unfamiliar energy, starkly different from Blackwood's warmth.
I was deep in thought when the mysterious man suddenly interrupted, looking at me directly and speaking in a low tone: "Where is your mother?"
His question made me pause, stepping back slightly as I hesitated. "My mother?" I stammered before I responded cautiously, "You mean Maeve?"
At the sound of the name, a complicated expression flickered across his face, one that seemed to be both astonished and anxious. He frowned slightly, a mix of disbelief and urgency in his voice: "Maeve? No, her name is Mavis."
"Mavis?" I was momentarily stunned, then quickly shook my head in denial, "No, my mother's name is Maeve, not Mavis. It seems you have the wrong person."
The man's gaze hardened, but soon it transformed into something more determined. He muttered, "No, I'm certain I haven't mistaken her. Your mother—where is she? Is she here?"
He was adamant, the urgency in his eyes intensifying.
I couldn't help but feel uneasy, sensing a strange mixture of anxiety and… a deep nostalgia in his expression.
His reaction threw me off, as if his feelings toward Maeve were far more complex than they appeared on the surface—there was a depth of emotion I couldn't quite grasp.
I raised my head and sighed slightly, then replied in a low voice, "My mother… she passed away in Murias."
The man's body visibly tensed at this revelation, and his expression grew more conflicted. He murmured, as if to himself, "Murias? She managed to escape to Murias…" Regret and frustration edged his voice, as if he were lamenting a long-buried decision or a past he wished to undo.
I observed him closely, trying to glean more from his reaction.
His emotions were enigmatic, only leaving me with more questions. Was Maeve fleeing from Sky Cities? Why? And what role did this man play in her escape?
What puzzled me most was the deep feeling he seemed to have for Maeve—perhaps a profound, almost unreachable love? Their past seemed to hold secrets unknown to me.
Abruptly, the man's gaze shifted back to me, softening momentarily as he bit his lip, as though he had made up his mind. Slowly, he said, "Dara, it's me. I'm your father."
I froze, a chaotic torrent of thoughts swirling in my mind—father?
A child born in Tirnanog, with a father?
In my understanding, Tirnanog's children either lost their fathers early or were raised by the community. Their mothers were merely vessels, selected only for their ability to produce offspring.
It was the first time I'd heard anyone claim to be a "father" to a child from Tirnanog.
A sense of absurdity rose within me, challenging everything I thought I knew about my origins.
I forced myself to stay calm as I attempted to respond, "Father?"
A gleam of excitement flickered in the man's eyes.
He nodded and answered, "Yes, I am your father! Dara, I searched for you and your mother for twenty-two years, never giving up. At last, I found you." His voice held a husky tone, perhaps from years of searching and waiting. There was a quiet, deep satisfaction in his words.
However, his expression then darkened with a touch of sorrow. "But… your mother… she…"
I continued to gaze at him calmly, refusing to let his emotions cloud my judgment, despite the inner turmoil brewing within me. I shook my head, denying his words. "Impossible. I was born in Tirnanog. My mother was just a 'breeding tool' here. How could I have a father?"
The man's face faltered slightly, as if my words had struck a nerve. He took a deep breath, gathering himself, his gaze fixed on mine with unwavering certainty. "No, your mother escaped after she was already pregnant with you. Aren't you twenty-two years old, born in July?"
His tone was calm and assured, without the slightest hesitation, as though each word he spoke held undeniable truth, leaving no room for doubt.
Hearing his words, I was momentarily stunned, my mind racing as I recalled the details. It was true—Deborah was indeed born in July, twenty-two years ago.
The clues aligned, and a flicker of doubt stirred within me. Could it be that Deborah was truly the child of Maeve and this mysterious man from Sky Cities?
His voice stayed low but firm, carrying an unyielding authority. "Come with me. Come home.
Home? I scoffed inwardly, a touch of sarcasm in my response: "Home? Why would I go with you?"
He looked at me, his gaze filled with an emotion that felt complex and genuine. "Because you are my daughter."
Daughter? A cold shiver ran through me as I met his gaze, then replied with measured calm, "What proof do you have that I'm your daughter? I've never met you; you're a stranger to me."
His expression didn't waver at my challenge. Instead, he smiled faintly, a knowing look in his eyes as though each of my responses only confirmed his suspicions. He spoke softly, "You look almost identical to your mother, Mavis."
I hesitated, feeling a slight tremor within me.
I looked like Maeve?
An image of Maeve from my dreams surfaced in my mind. Her face was faint, blurred, but there was a resemblance, a similarity. Still, that wasn't enough reason for me to go with him.
I forced down any flickers of doubt and replied calmly, "Even so, I can't abandon Tirfothuinn and leave with you."
He paused, a momentary flicker of confusion crossing his face before he cautiously asked, "You can enter Tirfothuinn?"
I fell silent, my gaze dropping as a slight unease crept over me.
This barrier around Tirfothuinn had always been an invisible wall for me. The "Demon" mark within me had led Sanctuarium to reject me, keeping me on the outskirts of its sanctuary. Was it possible he bore the "Demon" mark as well? Could it be that Deborah's inability to enter Tirfothuinn stemmed from the fact she carried his gene—a "father" from Sky Cities?
Watching the struggle on my face, he actually smiled.
I had guessed correctly; he, too, bore the "Demon" mark.
Then he gently held my arm, helping me to my feet. I tried to stand but felt an overwhelming weakness wash over me, my legs trembling beneath me. Sensing my discomfort, concern softened his expression, and he asked quietly, "What's wrong, Dara?"
I forced myself to meet his gaze and replied softly, "I overused my magic; I'm a bit exhausted."
A low chuckle rumbled from him, tinged with a strange warmth, as if this confirmed his suspicions. "Of course. Mavis was a witch, after all. You really are my daughter."
His eyes sparkled, as if he had rediscovered something precious long lost.
For a moment, the severe lines of his face softened with joy, his eyes shimmering with barely contained emotion.
A faint smile curved his lips, and for a fleeting instant, his eyes grew misty, as though the years of searching, the endless patience, had finally borne fruit.
His hands trembled slightly, his breaths quickened, as if even he struggled to believe that this was truly happening.
While I tried to process his emotions, he bent down suddenly, his arms wrapping around me and lifting me off the ground in a strong, secure hold.
The action was gentle yet decisive, as though he were cradling something delicate.
There was a strange warmth in his embrace, one that made me feel… safe, almost as if I could let down my guard for just a moment.
I was taken aback, unsure how to react—allowing myself to be held like this, feeling an unfamiliar sense of calm.
Should I go with him?
To Sky Cities?
A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind.
Three underground cities still awaited safe migration. But right now, Sky Cities posed the greatest threat.
以下是未完成部分的英文翻译:
Perhaps, setting foot in that mysterious city would be the key to unraveling all the mysteries.
This man's insistence on my identity—whether it was mistaken or otherwise—could be an opportunity to act as the situation demanded.
Once in Sky Cities, I could find out which family he belonged to, and perhaps even uncover the true culprit behind the massacre of the Lee family.
Besides, Chad stood beside him. While I didn't know Chad completely, I knew enough that perhaps I could use him to gather more information.
After weighing my options, I finally made up my mind to follow him to Sky Cities. This might be my only chance to uncover the truth behind this entire conspiracy.
He carried me steadily toward the small aircraft.
I could feel his heartbeat, strong and even, and hear his steady breaths, which brought an inexplicable sense of calm.
As we walked across the beach, the wolves around us cast glances in our direction, filled with surprise and confusion.
When we passed by Matthew, I couldn't help but glance back at him.
He still held his wolf form, his white fur rippling slightly in the breeze, majestic and powerful.
But there was an unmistakable look of sorrow and reluctance in his eyes—a reluctance that made my heart ache.
Clearly, he didn't want me to leave Tirfothuinn, much less venture into the dangers of Sky Cities.
But I knew that for Tirfothuinn, for the remaining three underground cities, I had to take this path.
I needed to stop the mastermind behind these conspiracies, prevent further obstruction of the migration from the underground cities, and protect Tirfothuinn from future threats.
Even if I tried to stay, this man would likely destroy Tirfothuinn without hesitation and forcefully take me with him.
With a determined look, I turned my head, refusing to glance back at Matthew, and resolved to board the aircraft and seek answers in the Sky Cities.
Just as I was about to step into the aircraft, a sudden low and urgent roar echoed from behind me.
The familiar sound, brimming with raw power, filled with both anger and sorrow, caught me off guard.
I turned sharply, only to see Matthew sprinting toward me.
Then, a gunshot rang out.