Chapter 37
Lucien stood still for a moment, letting the white robe rest comfortably over his newly awakened body. The soft fabric clung to his frame in a way that subtly revealed the broadness of his shoulders and the lean strength now sculpted into his form. The ambient glow from the open bud at his feet cast a gentle, ethereal sheen over him—like a divine garment suited for a hero from the old hymns.
Turning back, Lucien’s mismatched eyes met Aurorwen’s golden gaze. She had been watching him. Her lips were slightly parted, not in shock, but in a quiet, almost reverent awe. Her earlier composure as a dignified emissary of the Church seemed temporarily displaced by her visible surprise—perhaps even a bit of hesitation—as she examined the full extent of Lucien’s transformation. He had not simply grown taller; he had matured in presence, in air, in something that made even someone as poised as her feel the shift of atmosphere.
It was Lucien who broke the silence, his voice a calm but curious baritone now deeper than the childlike tone he once carried.
"How long... was I out?"
His eyes drifted downward, toward the glowing bloom beneath their feet. The bud—now unfurled—radiated a dim, pulsating light. It looked less like a plant now and more like something ancient and holy, a vessel for secrets too old to be understood.
Lucien pointed a finger toward it, not accusingly, but with quiet fascination.
"And what is this?" he asked. "Where did the Root of the World go?"
Despite how natural the questions flowed from his lips, there was a calculated avoidance in his tone—a careful omission. Not once did he mention the fact that she had held him in her arms while he was butt naked. Not once did he allow his gaze to linger in discomfort or judgment. He moved past the moment as if it were a distant fog, long since burned away by the light of the awakening.
Aurorwen tilted her head slightly. Her golden eyes shifted from Lucien’s striking face to the radiant bloom, as if searching for the words. Her white-gloved hands folded neatly before her as she answered in a soft voice.
"It’s been about an hour," she said, her voice clear in the stillness. "The glowing bud appeared the moment you touched the Root of the World. As for the root itself... I don’t know. It disappeared. My theory is—this bloom we’re standing on—it might be the Root, transformed."
Lucien nodded, taking in her words without interruption. Inside, however, his thoughts spun.