Chapter 56
The sun hung high above the western wing of the Velebrandt mansion, casting soft golden beams through the expansive windows of the chamber. The light shimmered against the marble floors, bathing the air in warmth and silence. Within the room, young Lucien lay sound asleep on the velvet couch, his chest gently rising and falling with each breath, the remnants of exhaustion still weighing his limbs like lead.
Miss Lunar stood beside him, her hands slowly withdrawing from his bare upper back. The motion was delicate, almost reverent. Her long, curly green hair shifted lightly with the motion, and her small, pale face held a thoughtful expression as she observed the boy’s form.
"You’ve awakened as an aura user," she finally said in a whisper, more to herself than to the sleeping child.
But Lucien offered no reply.
His eyes remained closed, his face relaxed in slumber. The only sound from him was the rhythmic inhale and exhale of someone deeply at rest.
Miss Lunar paused, then tilted her head, a faint puff of breath escaping her lips. "He probably stayed up all night," she mused aloud. "How typical. Nervous for today, weren’t you?" she added, projecting an imaginary scolding tone toward the unconscious boy. A small smile tugged at her lips, betraying her amusement.
With a soft sigh, she raised her hand and gently dispelled the gray silencing barrier that still cloaked the chamber. The magic dispersed like fading mist, revealing once again the subtle ambient sounds from beyond the chamber walls.
She turned her attention upward, her fingers dancing in precise gestures, forming faint glowing circles in the air. The ancient tongue of druids flowed soundlessly from her lips. Elemental spirits responded—creatures unseen by most eyes, flitting through the room in shimmering wisps of wind and light. One such spirit hovered before her, a curl of air in the shape of a feathered serpent.
"Please inform the Grand Duke and Archduchess that the identification is complete," she instructed calmly.
The spirit twirled once, glowed brighter in understanding, then darted out of the room.
Lunar stood still for a long moment, her green eyes once again drifting to Lucien’s sleeping form. She could still feel the echoes of his power—faint threads of rich, condensed energy like coiled silk, just beneath the surface of his skin. She had seen many types of aura before, but his was particularly refined, almost unnaturally so for someone his age.