Historias Everglen's POV
An idea struck me suddenly—what if I asked Aldren to sponsor me?
If I recalled correctly, Aldren held a high-ranking position in the elven kingdom, meaning his word carried considerable weight. He could easily arrange for my admission without raising any suspicions. Considering my sudden interest in the academy, this was the simplest way in.
Perfect.
Aldren always visited me frequently, staying for a week or two before leaving again. It had been a long time since his last visit, but I knew he wouldn't ignore my call—not when I had never once used a communication scroll to reach him.
I walked over to the place where I kept the scroll, carefully picking it up before tearing it in half.
A few moments passed.
Then, a faint glow appeared before me. The light shimmered as it grew stronger, forming the translucent figure of Aldren Vaelthorn. His sharp emerald eyes widened in visible shock, and for once, his usually composed expression was replaced with concern, worry… and slight panic.
"Historias?" His voice was tense. "Are you alright?"
I sighed. "I need you to come here."
Without waiting for his response, I cut the communication.
I could only imagine the look on his face.
Aldren had always been the one to visit me. I had never once used the scrolls to contact him, so the fact that I did—only to cut the connection without explanation—was probably driving him insane.
I leaned back and waited.
Sure enough, in less than three hours, Aldren arrived at the castle. That was the fastest I had ever seen him travel.
The moment he saw me standing there, perfectly unharmed, his worried expression twisted into something else.
I could sense the irritation rolling off of him in waves.
"You," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "are absolutely insufferable."
......
Aldren Vaelthorn's POV
It had been a quiet day in the council chambers—boring, as usual. Discussions about trade routes, border security, and political alliances droned on, the same old affairs that I had long since mastered but never particularly enjoyed.
I was only half-listening when a familiar sensation suddenly washed over me.
A communication scroll.
From him.
My eyes widened as I felt the unmistakable mana signature of Historias Everglen.
I barely registered the elven noble beside me asking if I was alright—I wasn't. My mind raced with possibilities. Historias had never used a communication scroll before. Not once. It had always been me reaching out, me visiting, me making sure he was still alive and not buried under a pile of ancient books.
Something had to be wrong.
I excused myself from the meeting, stepping outside into the courtyard before activating the scroll.
His figure appeared before me, standing tall and composed as ever. At least, he looked fine, but that only made my unease grow stronger.
"Historias?" I spoke quickly. "Are you alright?"
His golden eyes met mine, completely calm. "I need you to come here."
Then he cut the connection.
I stood there, completely dumbfounded, before letting out a sharp breath.
"That absolute—"
I didn't even finish my sentence before I moved.
I didn't walk. I didn't take my time.
I rushed.
Through teleportation, high-speed travel, and a considerable amount of mana expenditure, I reached the Everglen Forest in just under three hours—perhaps the fastest I had ever traveled in my life.
When I arrived at his castle, expecting some kind of catastrophe, I found him—standing there. Relaxed. Completely fine.
A long silence passed between us.
"You," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, "are absolutely insufferable."
......
Aldren's POV
I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" I snapped, crossing my arms. "Do you have any idea how fast I got here? I left a council meeting mid-discussion. A meeting. With nobles. Do you know how much paperwork I'll have to deal with now?"
Historias just stared at me, unfazed.
"Oh no," he said flatly, "how tragic. You left a meeting."
I clenched my jaw. "I thought you were in trouble! Do you know how much mana I spent getting here in under three hours?!"
"That sounds like a you problem," he replied, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.
I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. "You never use communication scrolls. Not once in six hundred years have you ever reached out to me first. Then, out of nowhere, you call me, say three words, and cut the connection without any explanation. What in the world was I supposed to think?!"
Historias tilted his head, looking genuinely confused. "That you should visit?"
I almost lost it.
"Of course I'd visit! But not like this! I was expecting some sort of disaster! A void outbreak, an ancient seal breaking, you getting kidnapped—"
"Who would kidnap me?"
"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"
I glared at him, waiting for a proper explanation.
He simply sighed, crossed his arms, and said, "Aldren. I've lived alone in this castle for a thousand years. Do you really think I'd call you over something trivial?"
"YES!"
There was a beat of silence.
Then, to my complete and utter frustration, Historias had the audacity to smirk.
"Fair point."
I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Why did you call me, then?"
He finally straightened, expression turning more serious. "I have a favor to ask."
That caught my attention. Historias never asked for favors.
"Go on," I said cautiously.
And when he told me, I nearly lost my mind all over again.