The final figure stepped out of the carriage, regal and composed.
She wore a tailored grey skirt that fell just below the knee, paired with a shimmering silver blouse that caught the morning light. Towering at nine feet six inches, she carried herself with effortless grace. Her long brown hair flowed past her shoulders in soft waves, and her eyes—warm, intelligent, and piercing—were the color of rich brown.
She was undeniably beautiful.
Her name was Zeliona Athena Zitry, Queen of Zitry.
Ziraiah stared, eyes wide. "Wow," she muttered under her breath. "The people here have next-level beauty."
Eryndor stood beside her, arms folded, his gaze contemplative. "She has more than justified her placement in fourth."
Ziraiah raised an eyebrow. "Fourth? Who's in the top three, then?"
"Second and third," Eryndor replied without missing a beat, "are the elf princess and queen. Respectively."
"Oh yeah," Ziraiah nodded. "Those elves were gorgeous. Even that elf dude—"
Eryndor turned sharply. "What elf, DUDE?"
"You know," she said, squinting in thought. "That guy who kidnapped you and Val."
"…Oh," Eryndor said, his voice flattening.
They both went quiet for a moment, watching Queen Zeliona glide toward them with a grace that made it seem like the world made room for her.
Then Ziraiah asked softly, "So… who's in first place?"
Eryndor allowed himself a faint smile. "Must you even ask? Who, pray tell, is the most breathtaking individual your eyes have ever beheld?"
Ziraiah's gaze dropped. She let out a sigh. "Dear old Mom… I miss her."
"So do I," Eryndor said quietly.
"You're not usually the type to rank people's looks, O Elegant Brother," she said, nudging him. "That's more Val's thing."
Eryndor exhaled with a quiet chuckle. "It would seem I've inherited a measure of his… less cultivated proclivities."
As they spoke, Queen Zeliona reached the group. She passed right by King Juval without a glance, heading straight for Pungence.
"Hello, Pungence," she said, voice smooth and composed. "It's been a while."
Pungence gave a warm smile. "Zeli. You're as graceful as ever. How've you been?"
"I've been well enough," she replied. Then her eyes flicked toward the half-reconstructed estate. "I see Andrea's destroyed the house again."
Andrea folded her arms. "Your stupid husband annoyed me."
Juval, sheepish, stepped forward and slipped a hand behind his back. With a small flourish, he conjured a bouquet of vivid star lilies, shimmering with traces of mana.
He held it out to her. "Happy anniversary, honey."
Zeliona blinked. Then smiled.
"Aww… I thought you forgot again."
"Not this time," he said, a bit proudly.
She accepted the bouquet, leaned in, and kissed him on the lips.
Pungence looked at them with a smirk. "Well done."
Andrea scoffed beside him. "They're getting soft."
---
A gentle breeze rolled over the grassy hilltop, stirring the half-dismantled ruins of Pungence's estate. The mages and workers toiled without rest—walls rising again, support beams floating into place under glowing enchantments, stone reshaping itself with soft, humming magic.
Not far from the reconstruction zone, a large blanket had been spread near the edge of the hill, overlooking the magnificent city of Heful below. The view was serene—crystal rooftops glittered in the morning light, and rivers of blue mana streamed through the city like glowing veins.
Pungence sat cross-legged on the blanket, sipping a cold glass of fruit wine. Beside him sat Andrea, Zeliona, Juval (still nursing his dignity), and the royal siblings—Isabela and Juvian. Ziraiah and Eryndor sat together, legs tucked beneath them, with Ziraiah curiously eyeing the still-floating chunks of masonry being slotted into place behind them.
Isabela had one goal and one goal only: Ziraiah.
She hovered beside the girl, eyes wide with delight. "You are just the cutest little creature I've ever seen!" she cooed, reaching over to pinch her cheeks for the third time in five minutes.
Ziraiah swatted her hand away playfully. "I'm not a pet!"
"But you're so tiny! Look at you!" Isabela leaned down, now practically nose-to-nose with her. "Your hair, your voice, your whole face—it's like you were sculpted for adorableness."
Juvian, eating a pastry with one hand, rolled his eyes. "You said the same thing about that bunny from the palace garden."
"This is different," Isabela said flatly, not even glancing at him. "This one talks."
Pungence raised his glass, waving a hand lazily. "Okay, time for some formal introductions. Eryndor, Ziraiah—this is Juval, Zeliona, Juvian, and Isabela. The Zitry family. Zitry family—Eryndor and Ziraiah. They're siblings."
Andrea threw up her hands. "Is that how you introduce people? What kind of half-assed introduction is that? You didn't even tell them they were Elvheins like you!"
As she kept rambling, Pungence stared at her with a blank expression, his soul visibly exiting his body.
Zeliona chuckled softly and placed a hand on Andrea's arm. "It's okay, Andrea. You know that's how he is."
She turned her gaze to the two newcomers, her brows lifting slightly. "Their complexion is similar to yours. Black hair, green eyes... Don't tell me they're your long-lost kids, Pungence?"
Pungence leaned back, resting on his palms. "They're not. I found them in the Beniek Ruin."
Ziraiah's gaze dropped to her lap, fingers curling slightly at the memory.
"They were with the Black March," Pungence continued, tone sobering. "There was a Leporid healer too. When I saw them, I couldn't leave them there."
Juval nodded, rubbing his chin. "So that was them, huh? The ones Gozay told me to ask you about?"
"Oh, yeah," Pungence said, smirking faintly. "Speaking of which—Gozay says hi."
Juval's face twisted into a sneer. "Tell that fool I said he still owes me dinner."
Zeliona arched a brow at Pungence. "You went to Ignir?"
"Briefly."
"Without saying anything?" she asked, voice sharp.
Pungence blinked. "You know how I am."
"I do." She sipped her wine, then offered a knowing smile. "That's why I remember what you said the last time we met."
He tilted his head. "Which was...?"
Zeliona leaned in just slightly. "You said—next time I saw you, you'd be married."
Pungence choked, spraying his drink into the wind. "When did I say that?!"
Andrea burst into laughter, clutching her side. "Him? Married? That's the funniest thing I've heard all year."
Pungence wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You're both ridiculous."
Zeliona crossed her arms. "Everyone has a family now. Juval and I have the twins. Andrea has half the city calling her Aunty Ann. Moody Gozay settled down and had his family. Even the others now have families. But you?"
"I can't have kids," Pungence said simply.
Andrea grinned like a shark. "If he could, he'd have thousands by now."
Pungence pointed a finger at her, exasperated. "Damn it, woman. Do you ever stop?"
"Not when I'm right," Andrea said sweetly. Then she tilted her head and added, "Before these kids came, each day he would come home with several whor—"
Before the word could fully leave her mouth, Pungence—still seated—slid his hand beneath Andrea and, with a single motion, hurled her into the sky like a missile.
"—oooooores!" Andrea's voice faded as she disappeared into the clouds.
Everyone's jaws dropped.
Zeliona leaned forward, arms crossed, staring up at the sky where Andrea had vanished. "Pungence," she said, her voice even, "tell me you didn't just fling her into orbit."
Behind them, several workers stopped what they were doing. One mage tilted his head. "What was that?"
Pungence turned to Zeliona. "Don't worry. She'll be fine. She always gets on my nerves. She'll land... eventually."
Ziraiah and Eryndor stared at him, stunned.
Pungence looked over at Juval. "You better put up a barrier before she comes back—and a strong one too."
Juvian looked up at the sky, unconcerned. "Aunty Ann's going to be really mad."
Juval let out a long sigh and snapped his fingers. A thin shimmer of mana expanded outward from his palm, forming an invisible dome around the hilltop. "Fine. But when she crashes through that shield screaming vengeance, it's on you."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Pungence muttered.
Ziraiah, still cross-legged on the blanket, glanced nervously at the sky. "She's… coming back, right?"
Juvian leaned toward her with a crooked smile. "Aunty Ann always comes back."
Pungence took another sip from his glass, then pointed lazily with a finger. "Back to what we were talking about. As that woman said, these two—" he gestured toward Ziraiah and Eryndor with a nod, "—are Elvheins. I already told Juval this, they had some sort of limiter in them. It's why they're so small."
Isabela turned to Ziraiah again, brushing her hand over the girl's sleeve. "So you're an Elvhein. I suspected it. But I had my doubts because you're ao tiny. Uncle Pungence is huge."
Ziraiah rolled her eyes. "Enough about my size. I'm not tiny—you're just too big."
Juvian tilted his head, still munching on a pastry. "But Eryndor is bigger though."
Pungence shrugged, still seated comfortably on the blanket. "I don't know how the thing worked. Maybe it's because he's a man. Or maybe it was put in him later. I don't know." He sipped his drink, then added nonchalantly, "But I had them removed. So… they should grow normally now. I think."
Zeliona arched an eyebrow. "You think?"
"I've never dealt with this before," Pungence muttered, then glanced skyward with mild concern. "Did I throw her too hard?"
Meanwhile, Eryndor leaned in quietly, his voice low. "When things settle… can you help me find my brother? Valerius."
Pungence didn't even pause. He gave a small, serious nod and cast a glance at the group. "You can speak freely. Juval and Zeliona are family. You can trust them."
Lying flat on the blanket, Juval raised a lazy hand without looking. "You can. I don't gossip."
Zeliona gave his leg a playful smack. "Hush."
Eryndor paused for a moment, then offered a quiet nod. "I shall explain in due time. For now, I merely… required the asking."
"Don't worry," Pungence said. His voice carried weight now. "I planned on making him my student from the moment I met him. I will find him."
Juval sat up on one elbow, brows raised. "Your student? Did I hear you right?"
Pungence nodded once.
Zeliona gave him a skeptical look. "After all these years… Thousands of people have begged you to take them under your wing—and you turned every one of them down. Why him?"
Pungence rested his elbows on his knees. "You didn't see what I saw. That willpower… that fire. He really impressed me. I will have him."
Isabela, still coiled around Ziraiah like a curious feline, perked up. "You have another brother? How many of you are there?"
"Just three of us," Ziraiah replied casually.
Zeliona's gaze shifted to Pungence. "How were your parents able to give birth to three? Isn't it hard for Elvheins to reproduce?"
"That's what I said," Juval chimed in, nodding emphatically.
"They're not like me," Pungence explained, gesturing broadly. "I've got several kinds of DNA in me. If I ever had kids, they might come out… well… hideous."
He pointed at Eryndor. "But him? He's purely Elvhein."
Then he turned to Ziraiah. "She comes really close, but she's got human DNA too."
Juvian tilted his head again. "So… you guys are half-siblings or something?"
Eryndor's gaze sharpened. He sat up straighter. "We do not employ that ter.." His voice was firm, almost cold. "I would prefer your refrained from doing so as well."
Juvian blinked. "Sorry—didn't mean to offend."
Zeliona looked between the two, then back at Pungence. "Are you saying they're rarer than rare breeds?"
"Yes," Pungence said flatly.
Just then, a loud, piercing voice echoed from the sky above.
"Pungence!!"
Everyone looked up.
Diving down like a furious meteor—hair wild, nightgown flapping, arms glowing with retribution—was Andrea.
Pungence's face dropped. "Here she comes…"
With a thunderous boom, Andrea slammed into the invisible barrier—only to be swallowed by its elastic surface. The magical shield wobbled and rippled like a giant jelly, absorbing the full force of her impact before gently bouncing her backward.
She tumbled through the air with flailing limbs before catching herself in midair. Hovering just beyond the shimmering dome, she roared, "You're not sleeping in this house tonight, Pungence! You hear me?!"
Below, Pungence leaned back on one arm, biting into a piece of fruit and muttering, "And I sleep so well in that bed, too…"
Evening arrived. As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, golden light bathed the restored estate in warmth. The mages and workers had done the impossible—rebuilt the manor from its scorched skeleton into a perfect replica of what once stood. The structure gleamed with clean lines, fresh stone, and subtle enchantments humming beneath the surface.
Inside, the great dining hall was lively once more. The long table stretched beneath a canopy of chandeliers, laden with roasted meats, golden breads, crystal decanters of elven wine, and platters of steaming vegetables. Laughter and idle chatter filled the space as they ate together—Juval regaling Zeliona with exaggerated tales, Juvian mock-challenging Eryndor to an eating contest, and Isabela hovering beside Ziraiah with a spoonful of dessert in hand.
"Say ahh," Isabela sang sweetly, nudging the spoon toward Ziraiah's mouth.
Ziraiah leaned away, her brow furrowed. "Stop that. I'm not a baby."
Isabela pouted dramatically. "But you're so small and cute."
Ziraiah crossed her arms. "If you keep doing that, I'll get angry."
Juvian snorted into his cup, and Pungence chuckled from the head of the table, wine glass in hand.
But then, in the middle of a lull in conversation, Eryndor placed his fork and knife down gently on his plate.
He looked straight at Pungence and said, calm but clear, "Pungence… I require you to instruct me in the use of Bravo."
The room fell utterly silent.
Silverware clinked against porcelain as hands froze mid-bite. Chairs creaked. Juval, Zeliona, and Andrea turned sharply toward Pungence, their expressions shifting from amusement to still, guarded awareness. Even the air in the room seemed to pause.
The children looked between the adults, confused by the sudden change in tone.
Pungence didn't move for a long beat. Then he slowly leaned forward, resting both hands on the edge of the table, his eyes fixed on Eryndor.
His voice was low. "What… did you just say?"
---
To Be Continued...