After a few more minutes of heated banter, Lysandra and Eleanor stared at each other. They stared, just stared. Nothing more. Thus, Ryan and Sera became side characters to a story they were never truly a part of, the two old friends just stared, both confused—both already far too gone.

"I want you to never involve yourself with Ryan, Eleanor. And I want you to give me his soul back."

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "First of all, I don't care what you want. Second of all—I don't have his soul in my hand anymore."

Silence.

Then, Lysandra exploded.

Next thing Ryan knew, Eleanor was gone—Lysandra was gone as well.

He and Sera looked at each other.

Ryan rubbed his jaw. "Is this what you call hard love, sis?"

"Hard hatred, perhaps."

"Nah, you are too naive. Use thy brains. Maybe we'd be like those two when we grow older."

Sera frowned and gave him a small punch in the gut. "Like hell we would be. And I think… there is something wrong with mom. She is very, what can I say, withdrawn? As if she is afraid? I don't know, even her attacks on Eleanor felt weak."

Ryan sighed. "You noticed. Yeah, she seems terrified. Well, my best guess is that she has trauma from the events of her past and just does not like having discussions about it."

"You think so? I thought she was just ashamed."

"What do you mean?"

"No matter what, she is weaker than Eleanor and I have this feeling that she is ashamed of that fact. It probably haunts her. Remember, a person without a gun cannot talk the law with a person who has a gun while they are both in the jungle."

"Well that is true."

"And Ry, do you like Eleanor?"

Ryan rubbed his nose. "Maybe?"

"That's good actually."

Ryan's eyes widened.

Sera stood up. "Bed her soon, she is a great asset to have on your side. I think she is interested."

Ryan was just dumbfounded before his sister yawned and walked off.

For today, there was no training till the dusk, so Ryan did not wait and left for Kaelith as well.

…

Ryan's footsteps echoed through the long corridor as he made his way through the palace. His mind was heavy with the conversation he'd just had with Sera—her words still lingered, sharp and unsettling. But the palace itself had a way of dulling all other thoughts. The high ceilings, the burnished wood of the floors, the distant hum of palace staff going about their business... it all seemed so far removed from the chaos that gnawed at his mind.

His pace slowed as he descended the spiral staircase that led to the lower chambers. The silence of the hallway was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching. As he turned the corner, he found himself face to face with the last person he expected.

A bald man. Completely bald. No hair, not even eyebrows. His skin was unnaturally smooth, almost polished, and his presence had an odd, unsettling quality to it. Their eyes met, and a strange, cold tension gripped the air between them. They didn't move. Not for a second. Just stood there, each trying to figure out the other.

Ryan's lips pressed together. The silence stretched, the oddness of it beginning to gnaw at him.

He wasn't going to blink first.

Ryan's gaze locked with the bald man's, and for a long moment, neither moved. It was as though the world had paused around them, leaving only this strange, silent contest. The air between them was thick with tension, each waiting for the other to look away first, a battle of wills without a single word spoken.

Ryan's eyelids fluttered briefly, the tiniest hint of fatigue pulling at his gaze, but he forced them open, not daring to blink. The bald man's eyes, cold and unblinking, stared back, unwavering. A bead of sweat dripped down Ryan's forehead, but he didn't budge. This was a battle, and he was in it to win.

Time dragged on. Ryan's muscles began to ache, his body desperate for relief, but he held firm. He felt the weight of the bald man's stare, unblinking, as if he too was caught in the same web of unspoken competition. Ryan's mind screamed at him to blink, to break, but he wasn't about to let this strange, bald stranger get the better of him.

They both squinted, the tension in their faces growing. Ryan's brow furrowed, and the bald man's face twitched slightly, as if straining against the pressure. Ryan could feel it—a battle of stubbornness, each man daring the other to break first. His breath slowed, his vision narrowing on the bald man's pupils, willing them to look away.

For a brief moment, Ryan's thoughts flickered to Sera's earlier words. Use your brains, Ry. If you get them in the right moment, you'll win.

With a subtle shift, Ryan adjusted his posture, leaning in just a touch closer, his lips curling into a barely-there grin. And then, the grin became a mocking expression full of imagery—Sera would call it the impression of a monkey.

Unexpectedly.

UNEXPECTEDLY—

The bald man mirrored him, squaring his shoulders, jaw clenched in defiance. Face mirroring a funny monkey. Ryan felt even more challenged. But then, something shifted—something that Ryan couldn't quite place.

The bald man's eyes twitched. His lips tightened.

That's when Ryan saw it—the smallest flicker, the briefest hesitation. The bald man's focus broke, a split second where his eyelids fluttered, just like that.

Victory.

Ryan held his ground, the rush of triumph surging through him. He'd won. He could feel the smug satisfaction flooding through his chest. The bald man's gaze faltered, and with a stiff exhale, he turned to continue his descent down the stairs, defeated.

Ryan walked up, face full of smug satisfaction.

But as the baldy passed Ryan, there was one last act of defiance.

The bald man's hand darted to his pocket, and before Ryan could even react, a few cubes of ice flew through the air. It landed with a wet, icy thud against Ryan's back, slipping under his shirt with a cold shock that made him gasp.

Ryan jumped, his entire body jerking forward, ice sliding uncomfortably down his spine.

Into his pants.

He whipped around, half ready to yell, but the bald man was already halfway down the stairs, grinning like a devil, the sound of his laugh ringing through the hall.

Ryan stood there, blinking in disbelief, feeling the cold bite into his skin, the ice still lodged in his pants. He pulled them out and crushed them under his hand. His muscles tensed, and before he could think twice, he bolted down the stairs after him.

"Hey! Get back here!" Ryan shouted, but the bald man was already running, laughter echoing down the corridor.

Ryan, now fuming, couldn't help but grin.

Then, the baldie was gone.

Ryan huffed, feeling defeated as he climbed back the stairs. A low growl of frustration bubbled in his throat as he scrambled down the remaining steps, each footstep made more urgent by the cold trickling through the fabric.

He turned the corner into the next hall, still tugging at his shirt when he spotted her.

Kaelith.

She stood in the corridor, talking animatedly to a goblin girl, and for a moment, everything around Ryan blurred. He froze again, eyes darting between Kaelith and the goblin girl she was speaking to.

Ryan's eyes snapped to the goblin girl, his mind still buzzing from the absurdity of the prank. But as his gaze settled on her, his feet seemed to freeze mid-step.

She wasn't a goblin anymore.

Gone was the squat, unruly form he remembered. Instead, the girl had grown—at least a foot taller—and her once clumsy, gangly movements had smoothed out into something more graceful. Her skin, once a rough green, now had a polished sheen to it, darker in hue, like weathered stone. Her face, though still sharp and angular, was now undeniably more… mature, more refined.

And her eyes—those wide, almost blank eyes he remembered from before—had shifted. There was an understanding there now, a sharpness that hadn't been present the last time they'd crossed paths. She was no longer the simple-minded goblin he'd seen before. No, now she was something else entirely.

Hobgoblin.

Ryan felt a slight shift in his chest as he took in the change. She stood tall beside Kaelith, her posture straighter, her expression no longer one of naivety. There was a new wariness there now, a quiet understanding that hadn't been there the first time he met her. It was as if she'd outgrown herself in the time since their last meeting.

He couldn't help but stare, taking in every detail. Her clothes, which had once looked a bit large and cumbersome for her frame, now fit her perfectly, molded to her more mature body with an ease that spoke of both feral and calm.

Ryan was full of shock.

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