Elysia wakes up slowly, blinking against the soft morning light that filters through the window. The familiar scent of the room—her room—grounds her, but there's a heavy fog in her mind. She blinks again, trying to shake off the disorienting haze as she sits up, feeling a dull ache in her muscles.
For a moment, she simply sits there, piecing together fragments of what happened before her consciousness slipped away. The spell, the root, Aria's mother—the memories swirl in her mind. She remembers Zen's arms catching her just before everything went dark.
Pushing the covers aside, she stands, a little unsteady on her feet, but manages to make her way to the door. She descends the stairs slowly, trailing her hand along the railing for support, and hears a faint sound coming from the kitchen. As she rounds the corner, she finds Zen standing by the stove, focused on whatever he's cooking, his back to her.
"Master…" her voice is quiet, still slightly hoarse from the exhaustion.
When Zen notices her at the doorway, his expression stays calm, though there's a subtle glimmer of concern in his eyes. "You're awake," he says, walking toward her. "How are you feeling?" His voice is measured, professional, but she senses the underlying worry.
Before Elysia can answer, he reaches for her wrist, checking her pulse. "Any dizziness? Pain?" His eyes study her face carefully, like a doctor assessing a patient.
Even though he's a skilled mage, Zen also finished his medical training, often switching seamlessly between acting like a healer and a doctor.
In this world, even though magic exists, there are limits to what it can do. Mages are born to fight dark forces, their power derived from the Heavens to protect against corruption from the Devil realms. But magic cannot erase natural sickness or diseases brought by nature. Healing magic works only on curses, dark spells, or ailments related to magical corruption. For everything else, doctors are still necessary—and they're often busier than mages.
Elysia blinks a few times, her mind still groggy as she processes his question. "I'm… okay, I think. Just a bit tired." Her voice comes out hoarse, the weight of the previous day's events pressing down on her.
Zen nods slightly, letting go of her wrist. "That makes sense. You used a lot of power—it's taken a toll on your body."
Her thoughts quickly shift to the events that led them here. "What about Aria and her mother?"
Zen straightens, his tone still even. "Her mother has been buried properly. Aria is still in custody. The Magical Bureau hasn't made a decision yet."
She feels a small knot of worry tighten in her chest, but before she can speak, Zen catches the look on her face. "You did a good job yesterday. You succeeded. The dark magic was destroyed, and her mother's soul has been freed. She should be proud of herself."
She opens her mouth to protest. "But Aria—"
"We can talk later." His voice is gentle but firm. "For now, you should rest. Take a bath, and I'll prepare a meal for you."
Elysia only nods, feeling too exhausted to argue, the weight of his words slowly sinking in as she heads upstairs.
-----
After cleaning herself up, Elysia sits on the edge of her bed, her mind drifting back to the recent events. She replays everything—the spell, the dark magic, the weight of Aria's mother's soul in her hands. The image of that man with the white hair and red eyes lingers in her thoughts, stirring something deep inside, but she pushes it aside for now.
A knock on the door pulls her back to the present. "Can I come in?" Zen's voice, calm and steady, comes from the other side.
"Yes, Master," she replies, sitting up straighter.
The door opens, and to her surprise, Zen steps in carrying a tray. He walks over without a word, his steps measured and precise.
"Master, you didn't have to bring the food here. I was about to come down," she protests, quickly standing up.
He doesn't respond immediately, his expression calm as usual. Instead, he simply hands her the tray. "Eat," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Elysia nods, taking the tray from his hands before sitting back on the bed. Zen, without another word, walks over and settles into the chair by her desk. She plops down on her bed with the tray resting in her lap. Glancing down, she notices a bowl of warm porridge and a glass of chocolate. Simple, but comforting.
The room falls into a quiet stillness, and she can feel Zen's piercing gaze on her as she hesitates, her spoon still untouched. It's like he's studying her again, gauging something she can't quite figure out.
"Master, what's going to happen to Aria? Are they really going to punish her?" she asks, the worry in her voice obvious. She knows all too well the severity of punishments for dark magic involvement. The higher the degree, the harsher the punishment, and death was not off the table. The mere thought makes her shudder.
Zen remains composed, though she can see a flicker of thoughtfulness in his eyes. "The decision is still uncertain. Considering she's still a child, they might be more lenient. Moreover, it's not like she sought out the dark magic on her own."
Elysia nods slowly, remembering. Yes, Aria wasn't the one who actively searched for the Plant of Life seed. Someone had given it to her deliberately. The man she saw in that strange vision—it could be the same man who handed her the cursed item. She bites her lip, keeping her suspicions to herself for now.
"I've arranged for us to meet Aria today," Zen suddenly says.
Her head snaps up in surprise. "Really?"
Zayne nods, his gaze settling on her with a knowing glint. "Yes, but I will cancel if you're still feeling unwell." His eyes flick down to the untouched meal on her lap. "You haven't even regained your appetite yet."
There's a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as his tone shifts to something lighter, almost teasing. "What's wrong? Can't handle a bit of porridge? Or are you planning to skip meals and make me worry even more?" his words are casual, but there's a subtle encouragement behind them, gently nudging her to eat.
Zen raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by the playful challenge he's set. "If you're too weak to finish this, I might have to cancel our plans," he adds, watching for her reaction.
Determined, Elysia quickly grabs the spoon. "No, no! I'm good now. I'll finish this in a second!"
Zen tugs at a small, almost amused expression, standing up. "Alright, we'll head to the city at noon then. Eat your meal and rest more in the meantime." He pats her head lightly before heading out of the room, leaving her slightly flustered, her cheeks warm from his attentiveness.
---------
The hours pass quickly. She has finished her meal and rested as Zen instructed. By noon, she's feeling more like herself—still tired, but determined to see Aria.
Zen knocks lightly on her door just as the sun reaches its highest point. "Are you ready?" he asks, his voice steady as always, though his eyes study her closely for any sign of lingering weakness. She nods, grabbing her cloak before following him out.
They head into the city, the familiar streets bustling with life. Despite the weight of her mission, there's something reassuring about the routine of the city—the merchants calling out their wares, children running through the alleys, and the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby shop.
They arrive at the Magic Bureau's building, a towering structure of stone and wood, its entrance flanked by two guards. Inside, the atmosphere shifts—quieter, more controlled. The sound of their footsteps echoes off the walls as they make their way deeper into the building.
Finally, they stop in front of a small, dimly lit room. The officer opens the door, and there, sitting on a simple wooden chair, is Aria. She looks smaller than Elysia remembers, her eyes puffy from crying, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Her hands are folded tightly in her lap, and she barely looks up as they enter.
"Aria," Elysia says softly, stepping forward and taking a seat before her.
"You came...," Aria says, her voice trembling as she looks at her. "I'm so glad."
"We're here to see how you're doing," she replies gently, walking toward her. "How are you holding up?"
"I don't know…" Aria lifts her head slowly, her expression one of guilt and exhaustion. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I didn't know what else to do…"
Before Elysia can respond, Zen steps forward, his demeanor steady. "You don't need to apologize right now," he says. "We're here to help."
His voice is calm, but there's a weight to his words. Elysia watches as Aria's gaze flickers between the two of them, her eyes filled with confusion and fear.
She leans closer from her seat, feeling the need to reassure her. "Aria, we believe you. But we need you to tell us everything—how you got the Plant of Life seed, who gave it to you."
Aria hesitates, her lips quivering as she tries to find the right words. "I… I didn't know he was dangerous at first," she begins slowly. "He... he seemed kind. I thought he was helping me."
Zen exchanges a glance with Elysia before gently prompting the young girl. "Who was he, Aria? What did he look like?"
Aria furrows her brow, trying to recall. "He had this… striking hair, almost silver-white, not really gray. It was bright, like metal under light. His eyes were intense, kind of a deep red, and his features… sharp. He wore dark clothing and he didn't look ordinary at all.. That's why I trusted him…"
As Aria explains the man's characteristics, Elysia's heart skips a beat as her descriptions match the man she saw in the vision. Those details—it sounds just like the figure she saw in that strange vision while purifying the seed.
Zen's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, his usual calm composure masking something deeper now—a flicker of recognition, of concern. But Elysia doesn't catch it. She's too focused on Aria's words.
Her heart pounds in her chest as she recalls his presence, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness. But why was he there? Who is he? And why would he involve himself with something as dangerous as the Plant of Life? She keeps these questions to herself, unsure of how to even begin explaining what she saw to Zen. Elysia glances at him, wondering if he sensed the same thing.
Zen, however, remains stone-faced, though his mind is far from calm. White hair, red eyes—it can't be. But deep down, a gnawing feeling of familiarity stirs. Could it be him? The same man from their past lives? He's unsure, unwilling to believe it, but he can't deny the similarities. His thoughts cloud with memories he's kept buried for so long, memories she has no idea about yet. He casts a glance at Elysia, his chest tightening at the thought of her being dragged into this again.
But for now, he keeps his thoughts hidden, masking his concern with a calm facade. "We'll do what we can to clear this up," he says, his voice steady but his mind anything but.
Aria lets out a shaky breath. "Thank you... for everything."
Zen shifts in his seat. "The council hasn't made any decisions yet," he says, standing up. "But we'll try to push for leniency, given the circumstances." He turns to her and says. "We should get going."
Elysia looks up at him and nods, but before leaving, she clasps Aria's hand gently. "Don't worry, Aria. This isn't entirely your fault." She tries to reassure her, hoping somehow she can escape the grim punishment that might await.
Leaving the room behind, Elysia and Zen walk side by side through the hallway, each caught up in their own thoughts. The silence is heavy, and her mind races, but no matter how hard she tries to shake the memory of the white-haired man, his image lingers. The intensity in his eyes, the strange familiarity that came with them—it all feels wrong, like he doesn't belong, yet something about him is disturbingly familiar. She wants to tell Zen, but what if it was just a trick of her mind? Just a fleeting vision?
She's jolted from her thoughts when Zen suddenly stops walking. He turns to her, his expression composed as always. "Fetch this book from the library," he says, handing her a small slip of paper filled with notes written in his precise, elegant handwriting. "I need to meet with the headmaster and attend to a few matters. While I'm away, it's better you use your time to find the materials for our next lesson."
She nods, taking the paper from his hand. The mage association building, located in the heart of Linkon Town, is vast and multifaceted. Besides the administrative offices, it houses nearly everything a mage might need—laboratories, training grounds, and, most importantly, the extensive library filled with books on magic, ancient knowledge, and arcane secrets.
"I'll see you again in about two hours," Zen adds before turning and walking away, his robe swishing softly with his movement.
With a quiet sigh, Elysia makes her way to the library. It's a place she's grown familiar with since becoming Zen's apprentice, and soon enough, she finds herself lost among the towering shelves, poring over the books and materials Zen has requested, letting her mind sink into the pages, hoping to distract herself from the unsettling memories of the man with silver-white hair.
--------
About two hours later, Elysia glances at the clock and decides it's time to leave the library. As she steps outside, her eyes wander for a moment and land on Zen, who's sitting on a low concrete block that serves as part of the library fence.
His focus is entirely on a black-and-white cat sprawled comfortably in front of him. His hand inches toward it, moving with such care, but before his fingers can make contact, the cat jumps and scurries away, leaving him hanging awkwardly mid-reach.
"He's still as bad as ever with animals," the sight brings a chuckle to her lips. "Master Zen," she says, walking up to him.
He glances up, his expression faintly shy, his eyes drifting away sheepishly. "I didn't even do anything."
Her giggle softens as she sits down next to him, taking the spot the cat vacated. "You always fails. Every time you try to pet an animal, especially cats, they run away."
Zen sighs, shaking his head slightly. "Maybe it's because they sense my ice magic."
Elysia laughs again, a light, musical sound. "That's not it. I've seen other ice mages who are just fine with animals."
Zen watches her, her laughter lighting up her face, and for a moment, his guarded demeanor softens. There's always something about the way she laughs that stirs something deep inside him. He looks away, his smile fading as silence falls between them both.
After a pause, she breaks it with a quieter question. "Master, do you think Aria will really meet her mother in the next life?"
His gaze turns thoughtful, distant. "Perhaps. Though I said that to her, in reality, only a few people retain fragments of their past life memories. People might meet again from past connections, but recognizing each other? That's rare. At most, they'll feel something vaguely familiar."
Elysia lowers her eyes, realizing his words to Aria were more of a comforting lie than a truth. "I see… so, what you told her was just a little hope to help her let go."
He nods slowly. "Exactly. Hope can be a powerful thing."
Curiosity stirs in her chest. "Is there any case where people truly recognize each other from their past lives?"
Zen's expression hardens ever so slightly. He hesitates. "It happens. But it's considered a rare luck. Even then, the memories are just fragments, like broken pieces of a dream. People usually connect the dots themselves, but… it's not the full picture."
She frowns, wondering. "Is there a way to preserve our memories? To remember everything from one life to the next?"
Something dark flickers in Zen's eyes. His gaze turns away from her, distant, as if he's staring into a past he's not willing to share. "Yes… there is a way."
Her brows lift, intrigued. "What kind of way?"
He sighs, his shoulders tense. "But there's a heavy price to pay."
"Huh?" Her heart skips a beat.
"Living with past life memories goes against the nature of the Heavens," he continues, his voice lower, almost distant. "To receive that blessing, something big has to be exchanged. A life like that… it doesn't come without its consequences."
She watches him carefully, noticing the way his expression darkens, the tightness in his jaw. There's something he's not telling her, a secret that weighs heavily on his soul. She wants to ask, to pry further, but the look on his face makes her hesitate.
Most people only knew Zen as the composed, brilliant mage with unparalleled control over ice magic. What they didn't know—what even she was unaware of—was the cost of his magic. Each time he wielded his power, it exacted a price from his body, a secret he kept hidden well behind his calm facade.
The scars that laced his hands and forearms were remnants of that price, evidence of the sharpness of his magic cutting into his very flesh. But he never spoke of it, not even to her. It was a burden he carried alone, a curse from the Heavens in exchange for the one thing he begged them for—the blessing to remember her in his next life. She, however, had no idea that he had known her before, in another life, long before her current memories began. To her, Zen was her master, her guide, and nothing more.
As the silence lingers between them, Zen glances down, his fingers absentmindedly brushing against the sleeve of his robe. His brow furrows slightly, as if he's contemplating something, before his eyes lift to meet hers.
"I have something for you," he says, his voice soft but resolute.
Elysia tilts her head in curiosity as he reaches into the inner folds of his robe, pulling out a delicate bracelet.
Zen's hand gently holds hers as he slips the bracelet onto her wrist. The delicate piece shimmers in the soft light, the silver strands intertwining like threads of moonlight. Tiny, snowflake-shaped charms dangle, each one intricately detailed, resembling crystals formed from his ice magic. The snowflakes glisten with an ethereal frost-like sparkle, almost as if they carried a piece of winter within them. Thin, elegant chains wrap around her wrist, forming a pattern so fine, it looks like they could have been woven from the sharpness of ice itself. It's breathtaking in its beauty, cool yet captivating, and she feels a warmth radiating from it despite the icy design.
Elysia glances at him, confused, her face heating slightly as his touch lingers. His eyes meet hers, and there's something in them she can't quite place—a mix of emotions too complex to read. Longing, tenderness, a quiet fear hidden beneath his composed demeanor.
"This bracelet is imbued with my magic," Zen says softly, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper. "This way, I can protect you better. I'll be able to sense if you're in danger."
For a moment, she's at a loss for words, her thoughts swirling. "Why?" she finally asks, though the question in her heart is larger than that. Is this really necessary? Is this really okay? After all, she's just his apprentice, right?
Zen doesn't respond right away. His gaze drifts as though he's searching for the right words, but all he says is, "It's a duty for a master to protect their apprentice."
His voice is calm, but something about the way he speaks leaves Elysia unsettled. She lowers her gaze to the bracelet now wrapped around her wrist, and as she stares at it, a strange sensation washes over her. For a brief moment, the world around her blurs, and fleeting images flood her mind—disjointed, like puzzle pieces of another time.
First, she sees a dark-haired man, his face obscured by shadows, gently fastening the same bracelet onto her wrist. His voice echoes, soft yet certain: "This will protect you."
The vision shifts. She's walking hand in hand with the same man, both of them laughing, carefree, as sunlight filters through the trees.
Then, the scene changes again. In the distance, a white-haired man waves at the two of them, his expression warm and familiar.
"Elysia," Zen's voice pulls her back to the present, and she blinks a few times, her surroundings coming back into focus. "Are you okay?"
Her eyes meet his, and suddenly, his face—his presence—feels both familiar and strange. A knot forms in her chest, a nostalgic ache that she can't quite explain, as if she're trying to grasp at something just out of reach.
"I— I'm okay," she manages to say, shaking off the disorientation. She offers him a soft, genuine smile. "Thank you, Master. I'll cherish this bracelet."
As she sits there, the weight of the bracelet on her wrist feels heavier now, as if it carries not just magic, but memories—ones she can't quite understand.
"What was that I saw… was that merely a vision, or are they memories?" The thought lingers in her mind, a swirl of confusion. "Whose memories? Why was I there? Were they mine… or someone else's? Who were those two figures?"
The questions multiply, weaving through her heart and mind, yet for now, they remain unanswered—quiet whispers in the back of her thoughts, waiting for clarity.