Epilogue

Same day — Delmare Estate, Western Wing of the Capitol

The great stone balcony smells of lavender and salt. Below, white cliffs fall into the churning sea. Above, storm clouds gather like gossip.

Ravia Sel kneels—robe pressed and still damp at the edges, hair tied sharp, posture flawless. Her satchel lies open beside her, filled with sealed scrolls and crystalline samples pulsing faintly in their vials.

The man before her leans against a marble column, backlit by the approaching dusk. He wears no crown. He needs none.

Elowen Delmare, the Duke of the Azure Court, stares into the horizon with the patience of tides. His long coat ripples in the wind, blue threads flickering like deepwater lightning.

“I trust your journey to the lowlands was quiet?” he asks, his voice low and deliberate.

Ravia nods once. “It was, my lord. The slimes responded to controlled mana infusion better than expected. Their absorption rate tripled when exposed to condensed holy residue. I’ve recorded everything.” She gestures to her notes.

He hums. A sound like the sea dragging rocks back into itself. Then:

“And… did you take on an apprentice while you were there?”

Ravia hesitates for a beat—not out of doubt, but precision.

“Yes.”

His eyes shift slightly. Just enough to show interest. “Tell me about them.”

She smiles faintly, the kind of smile she rarely allows. “A girl. Ten years old. blessed by water god. She mastered basic manipulation in under a day. And binding spells by the end of the week.”

Elowen’s brow rises. “That fast?”

“Faster,” Ravia replies. “She has control. Focus. Discipline. If she keeps going at this rate, she’ll reach 3 circles before twelve.”

“And her name?” he asks, folding his arms, face unreadable.

She looks up, voice calm.

“Elara Add.”

A long silence.

Then, slowly, the Duke exhales. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips—not mocking, not polite. Proud.

“Elara Add,” he repeats, almost to himself.

He turns back to the sea.

“Good,” he says at last. “Very good.”