Helia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her brows furrowed as she leafed through a chemistry manual.
The laboratory, bathed in a soft light, was filled with the scent of dried plants and magical reagents. Scattered notes, diagrams, and vials cluttered the tables, bearing witness to the long hours of work they had already spent together.
The weeks that followed had been exhausting, and though Cédric Belmont had proven to be more serious than she had feared, he remained incredibly obstinate. He even seemed to take pleasure in contradicting each of her ideas. Yet, they had made considerable progress, despite the work being far more complex than she had initially imagined.
They had begun by thoroughly analyzing the endocrine system of wild boars, a challenge in itself. The biology and unique properties of the mutated boars made the task arduous. From a young age, these creatures produced hormones in excessive quantities, rendering them aggressive, difficult to control, and causing their reproductive behavior to become even more frenzied.
The objective was to identify substances capable of reducing these hormones while neutralizing the animals' heightened territorial instincts. But that was not all, they also had to find a way to lure the creatures toward a specific bait, which required manipulating olfactory and visual signals.
In theory, it would have been possible to use other animals as live decoys by injecting them with endocrine disruptors, but this solution had a major drawback: amplification magic applied directly within a living being was unstable and difficult to sustain over long periods.
Yet, such magic was essential for the bait to function. Its effectiveness diminished rapidly, significantly limiting its usefulness in large-scale hunting or capture scenarios. Thus, they also needed to design an artificial bait capable of emitting signals strong enough to rival a living lure.
This type of work, combining chemistry, biology, and applied magic, was notoriously complicated. Not only did the substances have to be highly effective, but they also needed to be amplified by targeted magic, requiring precise calculations to maximize effects while minimizing energy costs.
On top of that, they had to design the bait's physical form. This meant drawing inspiration from the anatomy of real animals and creating a synthetic polymer pouch that was porous enough to trap and gradually release the disruptive substances. When adding the challenges of production and field efficiency, the project quickly became a scientific puzzle.
That day, Elyes, a colleague sent by the Mage Tower, was working with them for the first time. He was a man in his thirties, with delicate features and an innate elegance. His neatly tied black hair framed a calm face, accentuated by round glasses that occasionally slipped down his nose when he leaned forward to write.
It was thanks to Cédric Belmont's family connections that they had been able to secure the assistance of a mage so swiftly. Normally, requesting aid from the Mage Tower took weeks, even months. Mages, both precious and rare in the Empire, were constantly in demand. Helia knew that the influence of House Belmont had played a crucial role in expediting the process.
While most noble families, including her own, had their own personal mages, these individuals were typically specialized in fields directly beneficial to the aristocracy. They excelled in crafting enchanted artifacts, erecting protective barriers, and employing the latest magical technologies to optimize estate management and accounting. However, the project they were working on required the expertise of a high-level mage—one capable of manipulating forces well beyond common applications. Only the Mage Tower trained such individuals, making their involvement indispensable.
The room was silent, save for the soft scratching of Elyes's quill as he jotted down observations in his notebook. The laboratory workspace they had been assigned, cluttered with vials, detailed sketches of boar organs, and a prototype bait resting at the center of the table, seemed to exude the tension and concentration of its occupants.
Cédric, lounging casually on the edge of the table, absentmindedly flipped through Helia's notes, scanning her calculations and hypotheses. His expression, initially amused, shifted into mild perplexity as he suddenly furrowed his brow. He remained silent for a second longer before finally breaking the quiet in a falsely nonchalant tone:
"Lady Sterallis, forgive my boldness, but I must admit I had a rather… more picturesque vision of our bait in terms of its form. I was imagining a charming little rabbit piglet frolicking through the underbrush… The boars would be unable to resist, don't you think?"
She slowly lifted her gaze from her notebook, carefully weighing her words before responding, as was her habit. Cédric enjoyed debates, but he also had an infuriating talent for turning them into playful banter.
"Lord Belmont, I understand your perspective, but I fear it would not be sufficient. Boars are primarily guided by their sense of smell, not by sight. A lifelike form might catch their attention, certainly, but scent and taste are essential to hold their interest. An olfactory enchantment seems more appropriate to me."
He leaned against the table, adopting an exaggeratedly dramatic posture as he crossed his arms.
"Ah, the eternal pragmatism of Lady Sterallis! Very well, but tell me, how many mana stones must we sacrifice for this noble cause? Because, unless I am mistaken, the Empire has yet to adopt the generous model of unlimited mana rivers."
He was right, but she remained convinced that the urgency of the situation justified additional expenditure. She pressed her lips together, quickly considering a response.
"You are correct, the energy cost is an important factor. But even with a convincing form, if the bait does not release sufficiently potent scents, it risks failing to attract the boars. Perhaps we could…"
She trailed off and turned her head toward Elyes, who continued writing calmly, as if he had not heard a word of their exchange. Helia took a breath before addressing him.
"Mage Elyes, what is your opinion on the matter? Do you think a compromise is possible?"
The mage looked up, adjusting his glasses. He carefully set down his notebook before responding, his composed tone betraying a hint of reflection.
"Lady Sterallis, Lord Belmont, I understand both of your viewpoints."
He paused, his gaze settling on the prototype at the center of the table.
"Why not consider a combination? We could design a bait that employs a tangible, sufficiently realistic form to trigger the boars' instincts while integrating an olfactory enchantment, but one limited to a restricted area around the bait. This would reduce mana expenditure while increasing overall efficiency."
Helia nodded, her mind already racing through the possibilities of this solution.
"That could indeed work. We could shape the polymer pouch to resemble a basic yet evocative form and concentrate the enchantment on specific pheromones."
Cédric gave a slight nod, his tone still measured.
"That sounds reasonable. We will need to test various mana dosages, but it is feasible."
"Perfect," Elyes concluded with a smile.
"In that case, I will prepare a few samples while you refine the bait's structure. We can proceed with the first trials this afternoon."
Helia immediately resumed her work, refocusing on her sketches and notes. Cédric, for his part, began drafting designs for the lure's shape.
After a grueling day of work, she decided to head down to the clinic to check on her patients.
The night sky cast diffuse shadows upon the stone walls, and the cool air in the corridor was a welcome relief after hours spent in the saturated atmosphere of the laboratory. The apparent calm of the place contrasted sharply with the turmoil still stirring within her.
Upon arrival, she exchanged a few words with one of the attending physicians, a man with graying temples, before walking down the hallways. She took the time to consult a few files, verifying the treatments administered to the knights and their effects. She observed the patients with an analytical gaze, noting improvements here and there.
Everything was proceeding smoothly in the utmost serenity when, suddenly, her heart clenched as she stepped out of the patient quarters and into the hall, where she recognized a familiar silhouette.
Elysia was there.
The shock struck her like an icy blade. Her breath hitched for an instant, and a shiver ran down her spine. The images of their last encounter forced themselves upon her with unbearable brutality.
She had spent weeks burying that pain, crushing it beneath mountains of work, refusing to think about it. But a single glance at this woman was enough to make everything resurface.
She straightened her posture and took a deep breath before stepping forward, her face impassive.
"Lady Elysia," she said in a formal tone. "What are you doing here?"
Elysia lifted her gaze to her, and a delicate, almost innocent smile curved her lips.
"Oh, Helia, what a coincidence. I came to visit a family member."
Helia discreetly clenched her fists.
She knew exactly whom Elysia was referring to. One of the knights under treatment was a distant cousin of hers, someone she had never seemed to care about before. This was an excuse, a façade too fragile to be believable.
Suspicion crept into her, awakening an instinctive alert.
She gave no reply and was about to turn on her heels when Elysia's voice stopped her.
"I hope it doesn't upset you too much to see me again… because of last time."
Helia froze.
"I'm sorry," Elysia continued, her tone feignedly gentle. "But you know, love took over."
A chilling wave coursed through her. There was no need for her to clarify, they both knew exactly what she was alluding to. The public humiliation. Adrian. The broken engagement.
Elysia let out a soft sigh, a regretful smile at the corner of her lips.
"We used to be so close… It pains me to see what we've become."
Helia, holding back her emotions with all her strength, left the room without another word.
That night, sleep eluded her. Lying in bed, she stared at the vaulted ceiling, her mind tormented by the unexpected encounter. Why had Elysia come here? What was she truly after? Every memory of their shattered friendship overlapped with her current doubts, forming a whirlwind of emotions she could not escape.
Was it mere coincidence? Or was she planning something?
With irritation, she threw off her blankets and rose, slipping on a robe before opening the window to breathe in the cool night air. She could not let Elysia worm her way back into her life.
The next morning, she arrived at the laboratory as usual, trying her best to push away the thoughts that had plagued her all night.
Without paying attention to the other researchers, she made her way to her workbench, donned her white coat with a mechanical gesture, and opened her drawer to retrieve her belongings.
At that moment, Cédric passed by.
Unlike his usual self, he neither looked at her nor greeted her. His expression was oddly closed off, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his jaw tense. This was uncharacteristic of him.
She frowned slightly but made no comment. After all, they were not close enough for her to inquire about his well-being. Perhaps he was going through a difficult time?
She then opened her drawer to retrieve her main notebook… but it was not there. A chill ran through her. She shuffled a few papers aside, checked under her instruments, in the other compartments of the drawer, then on the nearby shelves. Nothing. Her notebook was gone.
Her heartbeat quickened almost imperceptibly. That was impossible. No one ever touched each other's belongings in the laboratory, it was an unspoken rule that everyone adhered to scrupulously.
"Where is it…?" she murmured, sifting frantically through her notes.
The noise of her search caught Cédric's attention. This time, he approached, looking intrigued.
"Are you looking for something?"
She lifted her gaze to him, a hint of concern in her eyes.
"My notebook… It's missing."
A deep crease formed on his forehead.
"Your main notebook? The one where you record all your progress?"
She nodded, her throat suddenly tight.
"I always leave it here… No one touches other people's things, so where could it be?"
He crossed his arms, his expression growing more serious.
"Are you sure you didn't take it somewhere else yesterday?"
"Absolutely certain. I used it just before leaving, then put it back here, as always."
She quickly scanned the laboratory, questioning her colleagues, but their answers were unanimous: no one had seen her notebook or noticed anything unusual.
A crushing weight suddenly bore down on her shoulders. That notebook contained weeks of experiments, dozens of crucial notes on her research into the antidote. Even if her progress had been slow, every detail recorded in it was essential for the next steps.
A slight panic began to creep in, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she placed a hand on the cold surface of her workbench.
"This can't be… If it's lost…"
Cédric, who had been watching her in silence, lightly rested a hand on her shoulder, his tone deliberately soothing.
"Relax. I understand your concern, but listen… I have a copy of everything regarding our progress on the bait. The formulas, the results of our tests, the adjustments we made… You haven't lost everything."
Helia took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside her. True, the bait was only one part of the project, separate from the antidote, but at least some of the data was preserved.
"I know… But that notebook… It contained all my personal notes. Not just the results, but also my hypotheses, my avenues for improvement…"
Cédric nodded slowly.
"I understand. But for now, focus on what we have. We'll find your notebook. It couldn't have disappeared without reason."
At his words, she briefly closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before reopening them. She turned slightly and met his gaze.
He was still standing there, facing her, his hand resting on her shoulder.
Her own anxiety had dissipated, but another thought suddenly took root in her mind: since when had Cédric been this serious… and kind? She wondered, scrutinizing him intently as if she could solve the mystery just by observing the features of his face.
That was when she noticed a subtle shift in his expression. A fleeting tension, almost imperceptible. His usually composed features wavered for a fraction of a second.
Then, abruptly, he withdrew his hand and averted his gaze with an uncharacteristic awkwardness.
"For now, let's focus on the bait."
His voice remained steady, but something in it rang differently.
She frowned slightly, puzzled. Why was he reacting this way? Was it just her imagination, or had she truly caught something unusual in his demeanor?
She opened her mouth, hesitated, then thought better of it. Understanding Cédric's strange behavior was the least of her worries right now.
She tried to pull herself together, but her voice betrayed a hint of unease when she replied.
"You're right…"
A hint of despair crept into her tone, and she inwardly seethed at showing such vulnerability.