Echoes of the Lost Elf

Gareth Valren's POV

Stepping out of our rooms, I stretched my arms over my head, letting out a satisfied groan. "That bath was amazing. I feel like a whole new man."

Darian snorted. "You act like you were dying before."

I shot him a grin. "Might as well have been."

Vaelith leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his usual unreadable expression in place. "Took the girls long enough."

As if on cue, the door to their room creaked open, and Sylphie stepped out first, her golden hair still slightly damp. Reyna followed, rolling her shoulders, looking more at ease than before. Eryndel came last, her silver eyes darting curiously around the hallway.

"I feel refreshed," Sylphie announced, clasping her hands together.

"You look refreshed," I said, earning a pointed look from Reyna.

Before any of us could say more, the air shifted slightly, and the spirits swirled around us, glowing faintly in the dimming light. It took me a moment to realize what they were doing.

"They're calling him," Darian muttered.

A moment later, footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Historias emerged, as calm and composed as ever. The flickering torches cast shadows on his face, but his expression remained unreadable.

"You're all ready?" he asked, glancing over us.

I could already hear stomachs growling—including mine—so I just nodded.

He motioned for us to follow.

Sylphie Norendell's POV

Walking through the castle again, this time with full energy, I could take in even more of the details.

The halls were massive, stretching endlessly with high, arching ceilings covered in intricate carvings. There were large windows, allowing the last traces of sunlight to cast a warm glow against the stone walls. I noticed faint, glowing runes embedded in some pillars—ancient magic, so old that even I couldn't immediately recognize it.

The dining hall was just as grand as the rest of the castle. A massive chandelier, glowing with golden light, hung above a long polished table. The moment we entered, the rich scent of food filled the air, and I nearly let out a dreamy sigh.

Plates were already laid out, filled with dishes I hadn't seen before. Roasted meats, steaming bread, bowls of fresh fruits, and even some kind of golden stew that looked like it had been crafted by gods themselves.

Eryndel took a deep breath. "This smells amazing."

"It really does," Reyna admitted, nudging my side. "You think the spirits cooked this?"

Historias took his seat at the head of the table. "Eat."

He didn't have to tell us twice.

We sat down, barely holding ourselves back as we grabbed our plates. The first bite melted in my mouth, and I almost groaned in delight.

"This…" Darian muttered between bites. "This is better than anything at home."

"Better than anything anywhere," Gareth corrected, already halfway through his plate.

I glanced at Historias, who was casually eating, his expression calm as if none of this was out of the ordinary.

Lyrian, sitting across from him, finally spoke. "Do you live here alone?"

The question hung in the air, and we all turned our attention to him.

Historias barely blinked. "Yes."

"For how long?"

He took a sip of his drink before replying, "Quite some time."

I studied him carefully, but his face was unreadable. There was something in his tone—something distant.

He wasn't telling us everything.

Darian Albrecht's POV

I was halfway through devouring my second serving of roasted meat when it hit me.

"We never asked for your name," I blurted out, looking up at our mysterious host.

Everyone else froze mid-bite, eyes slowly turning toward him. Even the spirits that were lazily floating around the room seemed to pause, as if they, too, were waiting for his answer.

Historias, who had been drinking from a silver goblet, lowered it slightly. For the first time since we met him, his expression shifted. It was subtle—just a flicker of something unreadable in his golden eyes.

He set the goblet down with deliberate calmness, taking a moment before answering.

"…Historias Vaelcrest."

A silence followed.

I frowned. "Wait… Historias? As in Historias Everglen? The same first name as the founder of Castellas Academy?"

Reyna's fork clattered against her plate. "That's right! The head of Castellas Academy was named Historias Everglen! What a coincidence."

Gareth raised an eyebrow. "Your parents must have liked the name."

Historias merely shrugged, taking another sip from his goblet. "Perhaps."

For some reason, I felt like we had just stepped into something much bigger than we realized.

.........