Chapter 43: A Day in Caerwyn
Mana-filtered sunlight spilled into the suite’s high-arched windows, catching on polished crystal fixtures and gilded furniture with quiet grace. The luxury hotel in the heart of Caerwyn, capital of Velmora, felt more like a noble’s manor than a temporary residence.
Silken drapes whispered in the breeze. Somewhere below, aethercars hummed across canal bridges while enchantments sang faintly from the city’s arcane infrastructure.
Alaric stood by the balcony, sipping a cup of morning tea distilled from elemental snowbuds. Its subtle bite was more meditative than refreshing, which suited him. Behind him, the others stirred lazily.
Aurevia practiced sword forms in silence, blade whispering through the air—graceful, restrained, and precise, like the noble lady she refused to act like.
Cellione sprawled across the velvet couch, flipping through a glossy pamphlet titled "Caerwyn’s Explosive Delights: A Tourist’s Guide to Arcane Mayhem" and muttering things like, "They better let me detonate something."
After ascending to the [4th-Circle]. Celliones thoughts have become increasingly Destructive. Her personality is changing according to her affinity.
This happens to the people who has extremely high affinity towards an Element. So much so that their personality starts to change and leans towards the nature of their affiliated Element.
Serineth on the other hand had claimed the corner of the couch beside Cellione, legs tucked under her, her usual timid air replaced by quiet contentment.
She held a cup of cinnamon-laced cocoa, steam rising gently as she took a long sip.
With the others, her posture was open, her shoulders relaxed—there was no shyness in her smile, only comfort.
Virellen had left before dawn, at Alaric’s request, to speak with her father—Caelthorn Veyron Crydias, a name once heavy with both nobility and coin. She’d gone with a grin and a wink, mischief dancing in her gray eyes.