Like grains of sand basking in the midday sun, Artair’s heart was quietly sparkling and crumbling.

Was I crazy? Why did I see this?

Despite doubting my eyesight and mental state, I couldn’t look away from those eyes.

Those eyes… made me chase this child here breathlessly, all the way here.

Artair barely managed to speak in a composed voice.

“His Excellency the Duke of Chelsiers will give you everything. The world you inherit will be perfect, noble, and flawless.”

“…”

“You might not imagine this, but there are parents in the world who are ashamed of magic. Some husbands mistreat their wives just because they gave birth to a child who is a mage.”

A voice layered with implied despair, each layer varying in intensity.

A blue, deep, and quiet pessimism gradually consumed that child.

… and in the softly colored shade, something dazzlingly bright flickered.

A voice, dark and calm, flowed from the depths of the boy’s abyss.

“You are perfect now, so stay perfect.”

“…”

“Pretend you didn’t hear anything and go back, young Duke Chelsiers. To the people who suit you.”

The child’s pain, sorrow, hardships, and trials.

They chased me here, shaking me to my core and transforming me into someone I didn’t know.

It was the first time I was fascinated by someone else’s despair.

I asked, as if spellbound.

“And if I go back, what will happen to you?”

The words fell on the boy like a meteor.

From deep blue despair suddenly emerged a glowing spark. Strong and fierce, flickering and crackling.

In the dark, damp swamp of pain, a fire burned on the child’s face.

It was beautiful.

Hope shone because of despair, will was revealed in crises, and anger burnt most fiercely when fueled by humiliation.

So, I asked again.

“Knowing there’s another possibility, will you stay <as is>?”

“… what does it matter?”

His immediate retort, brimming with the rashness of a ten-year-old, contained raw emotion.

But I still couldn’t leave Artair.

“If you want to run away, run away. I’ll make it possible.”

A faint light returned to the boy’s eyes, covering all scars, cracks, and pain.

My reason was slowly being restored.

But the feeling of being out of my mind persisted.

I looked at Artair with a scattered mind. His expression was also strange.

Wanting to hold on to a handful of hope, yet unable to fully trust, he cupped it in his hands.

The boy asked faintly.

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

For a moment, I couldn’t answer.

I didn’t have a particular reason.

It wasn’t something I was doing out of any rational motive.

Suppressing a sigh, I said.

“Firstly, no matter how much you dislike it, you’ll come again. Just as your father dragged you here today. So, even if you’re uncooperative like today, it’ll only inconvenience others.”

“…”

“Secondly, if your family is expelled from the council, you’ll soon lose your independence and be incorporated under Chelsiers. Your family’s territory is in the east.”

Artair blinked. I continued.

“Then the one I’ll likely face won’t be your father, but you.”

Having spoken hastily, I knew my words would easily fall apart under scrutiny, so I pressed on without giving him time to think.

“Lastly, your talent is real.”

The expression of rising bewilderment froze.

“No matter what your parents say or think, magic is not something to be ashamed of, and you have potential.”

I stated it clearly.

“If you want to go to the Magic Tower, I’ll help you.”

A peculiar expression slowly appeared on his tense face.

After all, it wasn’t easy for a child to remain indifferent when hope was within reach.

The boy, staring at me, asked slightly belatedly.

“… the price?”

A wise question.

Given the harsh reality he faced, it was natural he couldn’t expect help without a cost.

“Not needed now.”

“Why?”

“Because whatever you can offer now, I can easily obtain.”

It was a plain fact, yet his complexion, which had momentarily softened, stiffened again.

“That means… you’ll demand a price later that might be hard for me to give.”

“What were you expecting?”

“…”

“If you think positively, it might be something easy for you to give, even if it’s hard for me.”

But the boy’s face remained mottled with layers of complex emotions.

Purple anxiety. Dark green suspicion. Dark blue fear. Wrapped in pale desperation.

His vulnerabilities were laid bare, while the one extending a hand lacked nothing, making him even more distrustful.

Yes, looking at his face bruised like a sore, I couldn’t hold back a sigh.

Alright, if I must…

“I grew up as a commoner.”

The coldest and most significant weakness I had fell on Artair like hail.

The boy’s blue eyes gradually widened.

For a while, he could only mutter.

“… what?”

I repeated calmly.

“I grew up as a commoner.”

“…”

“The touching story of Duke Chelsiers isn’t all a lie, but at least the parts about me and my sister are half-fake. My father has known about my existence for less than half a year.”

He must have wanted to shout, “Why are you telling me this?” but Artair urgently looked around first.

“No one’s around. If there were, I wouldn’t tell you here.”

“How do you know?”

“How do you think I managed to chase you here?”

“…”

Right. You wouldn’t know.

I spun my finger.

A gentle breeze rose, flowing from my fingertips, brushing the boy’s cheeks and hair.

Realization dawned on the boy’s face.

Ah, this child was Astariol.

And though it would be impossible for someone of such high status… his existence was revealed only at nine years old.

The facts he already knew took on new meaning, being reassembled with each changing expression.

Artheare finally spoke.

“… what if I spread this around?”

I wanted to make you trust me.

The first answer that came to mind was too honest. Inadmissibly so.

I coldly cut it off.

“Is that important to you?”

“…”

“Just think about one thing. Whether you’ll go to the Magic Tower or not.”

The boy’s face wavered again. I calmly observed his turmoil.

I was aware of having revealed a significant weakness.

But a weapon too large was dangerous only in the hands of someone who knew how to wield it.

This child…

‘Is too weak to do so.’

A boy so young and powerless that he couldn’t even handle his own talent, couldn’t bear this.

Artair, being astute enough to sense this… his face paled with chilling fear.

But he didn’t shrink further.

His blue eyes shone resolutely.

“Can you give me time to think?”

“Of course.”

I answered immediately.

If he was smart enough to grasp reality, he would ultimately have only one choice.

To accept my help, even at the cost of his future.

Artair, flustered by my quick response, stood up as I did.

Words that didn’t need to be said.

Time that didn’t need to be spent.

Having wasted enough, I needed to return to Eciel.

The boy who stood awkwardly, his face innocent and confused, finally looked his age.

I found myself observing him quietly.

But such a sudden observation wouldn’t go unnoticed.

His expression gradually shifted to curiosity, meeting my gaze with a mix of doubt and defiance.

‘… he has a bit of a temper.’

In a hopeless situation, unable to decide, anyone else would be hesitant, just watching.

But Artair didn’t hide his rebellious nature.

Even though it wouldn’t improve his situation, he insisted on defiance…

Just as I was absentmindedly thinking this, the persistent blue eyes blinked once.

And something filled the boy’s face.

What was it?

A faint mist. A distant dawn. A hazy, brightening morning. A long, faint horizon.

A beautiful admiration, like all those vague, lovely moments, blossomed fully on the boy’s face.

‘Ah.’

I shouldn’t have let him see my realization… but I couldn’t help but smile.

Artair’s face suddenly flushed.

He seemed aware of his expression, momentarily at a loss, then abruptly ran out.

‘Running won’t change anything.’

I snapped my fingers.

A light breeze seized Artair’s limbs, holding him.

“Let me go!”

“Do you know the way?”

“…”

“Wouldn’t it be more embarrassing to get lost and run into me again?”

The struggling child halted.

Realizing he couldn’t find his way alone and thinking I’d find him faster with my wind, he must have understood.

I spoke with a voice tinged with amusement.

“If you promise not to run again and follow me quietly, I’ll let you go.”

“… I promise.”

The wind loosened and dissipated.

The boy, hiding his flushed face but unable to conceal his red ears, stood there.

I led the way, preserving his last bit of dignity.