Shortly before Lucius and Elian arrived at the mansion, Albert was having a private conversation with Margareth in the main hall.
— So you finally accepted a new apprentice, Mistress Margareth? — Albert inquired with genuine interest.
— Yes, Albert — Margareth replied in a measured voice —, and please, even though we share the sacred bond between Master and Disciple, you cannot forget that you currently hold the position of Count, while I had my titles officially revoked. I was demoted to the status of Archmage.
— Even so, Mistress... — As Albert tried to object to her words, Margareth interrupted him firmly.
— Still, the fact remains unchanged. I was demoted. Remember what I perpetrated during the conflict.
— At least allow me to address you as Mistress when we are in private — Albert requested deferentially.
Margareth exhaled a deep sigh before replying:
— Very well. When we are completely alone, you may use that address. However, do not forget: when anyone else is present — even a member of your own family — you must refer to me simply as Margareth. Understood?
Albert nodded respectfully, turned to Belle, and instructed seriously:
— Belle, this matter must remain in absolute secrecy. Do not share it with anyone. Not even with your mother.
Belle perfectly understood the gravity of her father's request. She was fully aware of the deep respect and admiration her father held for his former mentor.
— Mistress, forgive my indiscretion... — Albert hesitated momentarily before continuing —, why did you accept another disciple, having previously declared that you would never take another apprentice? Did something significant happen that made you reconsider that decision?
— It is an extremely personal matter... however, I believe I can share it with you. Could you ask Belle to withdraw to another room? I do not consider it appropriate for her to hear this narrative. Perhaps, in the future, she may understand the circumstances involved.
Albert readily agreed, turned to his daughter, and asked her to leave. A few moments later, one of the mansion's servants led the young girl to another part of the residence.
— You have partial knowledge of my past, do you not, Albert? — Margareth inquired. He confirmed with a discreet gesture. — Then you surely remember that I experienced death... for a few seconds. To be absolutely precise, for a little over sixty seconds.
She paused significantly, took a sip of the tea that one of the maids had served moments before Belle's departure, and then continued:
— With Elian, the situation was similar. However... considerably more serious. Elian, in reality, was born completely lifeless. I was present. I witnessed it personally. He remained in a state of clinical death for five full minutes, Albert. Five. There is no scientific or arcane explanation for such a phenomenon. And the only documented precedent of someone who returned from that state... is my own case.
Margareth fell silent for a moment. Her gaze lost focus, as if revisiting a distant and disturbing memory. When she spoke again, her voice carried a contained, yet perceptible emotion.
— His body was completely cold, Albert. Do you understand the meaning of that? — He nodded gravely. — After such a prolonged interval without vital signs, it would be absolutely impossible for him to survive. The arcane arts, however powerful they may be, are not omnipotent. They can temporarily suspend the process of death, postpone the inevitable... but they do not have the power to truly bring someone back. At most, they can prevent the final transition.
She inhaled deeply, her voice slightly choked by the vivid memories.
— Albert... that day, I witnessed an authentic miracle. I have no adequate words to describe what happened. I do not know if it was mere chance, destiny's design, or divine intervention. But it was, undoubtedly, a miracle in its purest essence. Maria was shedding inconsolable tears... and I was consumed with guilt. I blamed myself for not having arrived in time, for not having been able to save that innocent child. My only wish at that moment was to be able to go back in time.
Margareth fixed her gaze directly into Albert's eyes, with impressive intensity and seriousness.
— And then, after five minutes of absolute despair... he let out a cry. But it was not the characteristic cry that announces the beginning of life. It was a cry laden with pain, with deep regret. Do not question me about how I obtained such a perception. I simply... felt it. — She sighed slowly and heavily. — And immediately afterward, came the feeling of relief. Not just from him. From the mother. From the father. And also from myself.
That extraordinary experience left an indelible mark on her consciousness. Not merely because of its unusual nature, but because it awakened in her inexplicable sensations — reminiscences whose origin she herself did not know.
— Was that the reason you accepted him as an apprentice? — Albert asked.
— No. That was not the determining reason. That day, examining him meticulously, I found that his organism was in perfect condition. Absolutely intact. But that contradicted all natural laws. No human being survives five minutes of complete oxygen deprivation without permanent neurological sequelae. Absolutely no one. — She took another sip of tea, her fingers showing a slight tremor, before continuing. — What effectively persuaded me to accept him... occurred two years later, during the birth of his sister, Vivian.
Albert's eyes widened in evident surprise. Margareth sketched a smile — not of joy, but laden with sorrow and deep respect.
— He manifested the awakening as a Spark. At a mere two years of age.
— A Spark...? — Albert seemed torn between astonishment and disbelief.
— Precisely. The same arcane stage that I myself reached, but only at four years of age... and only after the traumatic loss of my mother. He, on the other hand, awakened by simply holding his newborn sister in his arms. — Margareth leaned slightly forward, her voice almost reduced to a confidential whisper. — Albert... can you conceive that that child radiated an absolutely pure feeling of protection? An instinctive and primordial impulse to protect another being with the totality of his soul?
She leaned back again, looking at him with an expression of undeniable gravity.
— What kind of child, at only two years old, reacts to the birth of a sister as if pronouncing a solemn oath to protect her with his very existence?
To this day, Margareth continued to question the origin of that powerful protective instinct that Elian manifested. It was something completely irrational for a child of that age. A phenomenon that, by all natural laws... simply should not exist.
— Lucius humbly knelt before me, begging me to accept his son as an apprentice. My initial inclination was to refuse categorically. In fact, I was absolutely determined to refuse — after all, you are fully aware that he could be formally excommunicated by both the Arcane Nobility and the Pure-Blood aristocracy for establishing a bond with me. — She paused significantly, her gaze momentarily lost in memories. — However, Maria, still exhausted from the recent childbirth, adopted the same supplicating posture. And, despite all my initial reluctance... I ended up yielding. Not out of consideration for them. But for something inexplicable that was born within me at that precise moment. Something that transcends my own understanding.
Albert watched Margareth with meticulous attention. For the first time during that conversation, he noticed a visible weight leaving her shoulders. A sigh that seemed to have been held for countless years.
— Now I fully understand... — he commented softly. — You recognized yourself in him. And that was why you accepted him, even aware of the risks involved, even knowing that he might face rejection from aristocratic society.
— Exactly. — Margareth confirmed, with a melancholic smile adorning her lips.
— But... does he already know? About the supposed "crimes" for which you were accused?
— Not yet. — Her expression acquired an accentuated seriousness. — It is not yet the appropriate time for a child to assimilate such information. When the right moment comes, he will be properly instructed.
A significant silence settled between them. Dense, yet not uncomfortable. As if the exchanged words had fully fulfilled their communicative function.
— That is the complete explanation. — she concluded finally. — Have I satisfactorily answered your inquiry?
— Yes, Mistress. — Albert respectfully bowed his head. — I sincerely thank you for clarifying my doubt.
He rose and adjusted his clothes with characteristic dignity.
— I must withdraw now. Thank you for your hospitality... and for this clarifying conversation. I hope that, soon, I can formally meet your new disciple. Or rather, my junior in the lineage of learning. — he added with a discreet smile.
— He will arrive soon. Today marks his return to studies. I granted him a week of well-deserved rest. It has been ten months of exceptionally intense training... and he has already managed to accumulate twenty-five percent of the Rune's total capacity.
Albert raised his eyebrows in evident surprise.
— Twenty-five percent? In just ten months of training? That is... truly extraordinary. I myself needed approximately a year and a half to reach that level. — he commented with a slight tone of admiration mixed with benevolent envy.
— Ah, Albert, do not let comparisons discourage you. Your daughter, Belle, also showed remarkable speed in her development. What was the precise period? Eleven months, if I remember correctly?
Albert chuckled discreetly and nodded, with paternal pride clearly visible in his expression.
— She has talent comparable to Elian's. — Margareth added, with evident sincerity.
— Well, Mistress... it is time for my departure. I reiterate my thanks for receiving me and my daughter with such cordiality. I am fully aware that this visit, officially, only fulfilled formalities required by the Kingdom... but I want you to know: I never doubted, and never will doubt your integrity.
— I am deeply grateful, Albert. — she replied with a firm voice, though visibly moved. — Your words are of inestimable value to me.
Albert withdrew from the room where he had conversed with Margareth. He went to the adjacent room and called Belle, who was waiting for him in respectful silence. Together, they headed for the main entrance of the mansion.
Upon opening the imposing richly carved wooden door, Albert saw two figures slowly approaching along the stone-paved path. An adult man and a child.
"Could it be Lucius and Elian, the individuals mentioned by the Mistress?" — Albert reflected, observing them attentively.
Belle, positioned beside her father, also fixed her gaze on the newcomers with evident curiosity.
The man was of considerable stature, wearing a dark blue wool tunic of superior quality, complemented by trousers of the same material that extended to his ankles. A sturdy leather belt adjusted the tunic to his waist. Over his shoulders, a simple, yet dignified cloak fell naturally. His boots, though showing evident signs of prolonged use, remained in satisfactory condition.
His countenance was marked by strong and defined features. He was, undoubtedly, the face of a noble — not one raised amidst the luxury and comfort of palatial halls, but a noble forged in the adversities of the field, possibly tempered in battles and trials. He appeared to be approximately twenty-five years old. His eyes, a light brown that conveyed serenity, contrasted harmoniously with his dark hair, a black with bluish reflections that shone under the sunlight.
The child accompanying him was dressed similarly, with one notable distinction: instead of a cloak, he wore a dark blue overcoat that almost entirely covered his tiny body. He appeared to be just under three years old. His hair, a golden blonde reminiscent of ripe wheat, was impeccably combed, falling softly almost to his shoulders. His eyes, an intense and vivid gold comparable to freshly polished gold, sparkled under the morning light.
They were, indeed, Lucius Freimann and his son, Elian Freimann.
Lucius approached the entrance and executed an impeccable formal bow. Elian, with surprising grace for his age, replicated his father's gesture with precision.
— Your Lordship, Lord Stein. — Lucius pronounced, with appropriate deference.
— Sir Lucius. — Albert replied, with a discreet nod of acknowledgment. — Margareth... is this child your new disciple?
— Yes, Milord. — Margareth confirmed with characteristic serenity.
Belle, who until that moment had been observing Elian in contemplative silence, was called by her father to formally introduce herself.
— My name is Belle Von Stein, firstborn of Albert Von Stein. It is an honor to meet you. — she declared with a slight nod and a surprisingly firm voice for her tender age.
Internally, however, Belle experienced a confusion of inexplicable sensations. Something about that child aroused her intense curiosity. Elian's golden eyes seemed to exert an incomparable magnetic attraction on her, unlike anything else present in that environment. Belle had recently turned five years old. And, like Elian, she had also reached the impressive twenty-five percent mark of the Rune's capacity at the Spark stage. Nevertheless, there was something profoundly enigmatic and inexplicable about that child before her.
Elian observed her with evident curiosity, tilting his head slightly in an inquisitive gesture.
— Is there something that troubles you? — he inquired, with a clear and surprisingly articulate voice for someone of his chronological age.
Belle almost instinctively recoiled, taken by surprise. However, she quickly regained her composure and denied with a shake of her head, trying to conceal her astonishment.
— N-no... absolutely nothing.
However, deep down, she tried to understand how a child of approximately three years could express himself with such clarity and demonstrate a presence as striking as her own, who had already turned five.
— Come, Belle. — Albert called. — We will have other opportunities to meet, Lucius. Elian.
As she walked beside her father, Belle experienced an indefinable restlessness. A subtle, yet persistent sense of discomfort. Was it apprehension? Curiosity? She herself couldn't precisely identify it. She was only aware that something fundamental had transformed in her perception.
Before entering the elegant carriage, she looked back one last time. And there stood Elian, motionless, watching her directly. Their gazes met — for the second time that significant morning.
Then, something unexpected and inexplicable happened.
A spontaneous smile blossomed on her lips.
She couldn't rationally explain the origin of that gesture or its motivation. It was a genuine smile, devoid of artifice, almost radiant in its simplicity. A smile that, with the passage of time... might evolve into something of deeper meaning.
Belle settled beside her father in the carriage, adjusted her dress with an automatic movement, and, moments before the wheels began to move, formed a definite thought:
— We will meet again, Elian Freimann...