Yao Yao just stared at him.
She didn't realise she'd stopped breathing until her lungs pushed back, forcing in a sharp breath that jolted her heartbeat out of rhythm. The words replayed in her mind, heavier now that they had fully landed.
The Spirit King. Elyas.
Kaireth watched her quietly, studying her with a curiosity that felt almost patient, as if her reaction mattered more than the truth he'd just dropped.
"You didn't know," he said at last, his voice pulling her back into the moment.
Yao Yao tried to speak. A thought had been there a moment ago—maybe even a question—but it slipped away before she could hold onto it. All that came out was a weak sound that didn't quite form a word.
Kaireth tilted his head a little. "And you've been hoping the king of our realm would… contract you?"
She flinched as if someone had flicked a pebble at her forehead.
Put like that—
Put exactly like that—
It sounded insane. Was that really what she'd been doing?
Everything replayed at once, rushing back in a flood she couldn't stop.
Every hopeful thought.
Every ridiculous stunt.
Every argument she'd thrown at him with the confidence of someone who clearly hadn't understood the weight of who she was talking to.
No wonder he'd looked at her the way he did.
Arrogant? Yes.
Unbearably so? Also yes.
But at least now the pattern made sense.
Her mind spun as the pieces fell into place—Rui's obedience, the way the plants bowed to him, the thick magic that lived in every corner of that castle. And the quiet luxury she had half-admired and half-resented. She'd told herself they were just old spirits, maybe from some powerful lineage with generations of wealth behind them.
She had never once considered this.
Kaireth stayed silent, giving her space to think. When she didn't answer, he finally asked, "So where is Elyas? I need to speak to him."
Yao Yao pointed toward the door without hesitation. The movement felt automatic, like her body was answering long before her thoughts caught up.
Kaireth nodded and turned to go.
He didn't make it past two steps.
A sudden pull stopped him. He looked down.
Yao Yao was holding onto his pants.
Her fingers dug into the fabric with surprising strength. She looked up at him, eyes wide and pink under the chamber's light, mouth parted as if she were still remembering how to speak.
Kaireth blinked. "What…?"
She swallowed, tightened her grip, then pointed to the stone floor.
"Teach me," she said quietly. "Just—teach me how to conjure something stronger. A water ball. Anything."
Her voice was thin, the way someone sounded when they knew they couldn't afford to wait even one breath longer.
"I only need one," she whispered. "Just one that actually works."
***
The chamber Elyas stepped into was bright.
Light poured through an open ceiling far above—showing a stretch of sky that shouldn't have existed at this depth. The whole space felt like it had carved its own place between the world above and the world below.
Shelves filled the room in uneven rows, stacked high with books that looked as old as the place itself. In the center grew a massive tree, rooted straight into broken stone. Its roots stretched everywhere—over the floor, across shelves, into the cracks of ancient slabs. Its branches spread wide, holding leaves of warm gold that shifted gently when the air moved.
Water threaded through the roots in steady streams, shallow enough to cross but constant, rising from somewhere far beneath the chamber. The sound of it circled the tree like a rhythm.
Small lights drifted between the branches—each one a different color—gliding in circles around the trunk.
Then, a faint rustle came from the far shelf.
A rabbit—though not quite a rabbit—rounded the corner. It was larger, standing upright with a stack of books held neatly against its chest. Thick fur framed its face, and its ears twitched as it set the books down on a root-woven table.
When it saw Elyas, its ears wagged left and right in a bright, happy sway. It hop-walked toward him with a small squeaking sound—excited, obviously pleased to see him.
Elyas looked down at it, expression unchanged, and rested a hand on its ears. His palm pressed firmly, sliding once along the fur. The ears folded down at once, the rabbit going still in a shy little slump before its whole body brightened again.
A second later, it wrapped both arms around his leg, burying its face into the fabric with a happy wiggle. The smile stayed wide as it rubbed its cheek against him, completely content.
Elyas let it cling, already turning his attention back to the tree.
The door slammed open.
Rui stormed in so fast the lights drifting near the branches scattered in alarm. He kicked the door shut behind him and marched across the chamber.
"Your Majesty, I truly do not understand what you're thinking." His voice rose with each step. "Are you seriously planning to contract her? Why bring her here—what is this supposed to be? Because from where I'm standing—"
Elyas raised a finger to his lips without looking at him.
"Shh."
The sound echoed lightly in the chamber.
"Shh," he said. "This is a library. Keep your voice down."
Rui froze. "A—what library? This place—this—what are you—"
A sharp hiss cut him off.
The rabbit had turned, fur puffed, ears flat, glaring at him as if he had committed an unforgivable sin.
Rui stared. "Why are you even angry at me?!"
The rabbit hissed again, louder.
"You're too loud," Elyas said, still not looking at him.
"I—this—" Rui dragged a hand through his hair. "Fine. Then explain. You wake up after centuries, and suddenly you want to contract a human? You refused before. What changed?"
Elyas didn't answer.
Rui exhaled, trying again. "What exactly are you planning?"
Elyas let out a short breath that passed for a laugh and stepped forward, moving into the shallow streams without hesitation. Rui followed to the edge, stopping as Elyas approached the tree, lifting his head to the golden leaves.
"It's been a while," he said.
The tree rustled—a slow, heavy sound.
One of the drifting lights reshaped itself, wings forming, then a small body. A fairy blinked awake and circled him once. The other lights stirred but did not change.
The tree stayed silent.
Elyas stood there for a moment before turning slightly, gaze toward the door behind Rui.
"You told me once the girl would be the end of me," he said quietly. "I now see that it wasn't Elisie you'd meant."
He looked back to the tree.
"It's the girl right outside the door, isn't it."
The tree held still for a long moment. Then, a single leaf fluttered downward.
"Yes."
Rui froze.
The word sat in the air long enough for his thoughts to stumble. His eyes widened first, then narrowed slightly as he tried to process what he'd just heard.
When he finally found his voice, it sounded uncertain. "End…? What end? What is going on? This is the first time I've heard anything like this."
Elyas didn't look surprised. Not even a little.
"I thought so."
His tone stayed calm, but his eyes sharpened.
"Why her."
The tree didn't answer.
Rui waited. Elyas waited longer.
But the tree stayed silent.
Elyas stepped closer, water shifting around his boots. He stood beneath the branches, looking up as if searching for the face of whoever he was speaking to.
"Elisie is gone," he said. "If I fall too… what happens to this realm?"
He rested a hand lightly against a thick root, fingers tracing the rough bark.
"You're not telling me," he said. "Not because you don't know, but because you think nothing will change even if you do."
The leaves trembled faintly.
Elyas waited.
Still, nothing came.
He exhaled and stepped back.
"Then at least tell me this," he said. "Why is the abyssal inside the girl?"
This time, the answer came after a long silence.
"The girl," the tree said, "carries a piece of Elisie."