Echoes of the Lost Elf-Chapter 45 - 44 : Erased

When Historias returned to his room, he immediately sensed something was off. A faint shift in the air, the barely perceptible scent of foreign mana—subtle, but unmistakable. His gaze flickered with mild irritation as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Someone was already waiting for him.

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A familiar figure was leaning casually against the open window frame, bathed in the cool moonlight. Black silver-streaked hair framed a face of sharp angles, crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. The faint rustle of wings was the only sound in the quiet room.

Historias sighed, shutting the door behind him. "Why does everyone keep getting in without permission?"

Valak smirked. "You said we'd talk."

"That didn't mean you had to break in."

"I didn't," Valak said with an easy shrug, flexing his dark, membranous wings slightly. "I flew in."

Historias pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course. Demons and their wings."

Valak let out a small chuckle before his expression turned serious. "Where have you been for the past 1,000 years?"

Historias tilted his head, unfazed by the sudden shift in tone. "The Everglen Palace."

Valak's gaze darkened, his fingers drumming against the window frame. "Of course." He took a step forward, his voice low. "And how long has Aldren known about your whereabouts?"

Historias met his stare without hesitation. "600 years."

Valak froze mid-step. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "That bastard knew for 600 years and never breathed a word?" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I should've known. Damn elf is tighter-lipped than a vault."

Turning away, he paced across the room, his boots making soft thuds against the wooden floor.

"How did he even find you?"

Historias folded his arms. "I have no idea. No matter how many times I ask, he refuses to tell me. I suspect he enjoys keeping secrets just to irritate me."

Valak scoffed. "That does sound like Aldren." He studied Historias for a long moment before tilting his head. "Fine. Then why did you come to Castellas? And as a student, no less? You, of all people, playing along with their system?"

Historias leaned against his desk, his expression unreadable. "Because I got tired of staying there."

Valak stared at him, unimpressed.

A few seconds passed before Historias sighed. "Alright, fine. A few days before the Castellas entrance exam, some children stumbled upon the Everglen Palace. They were being chased by a horde of goblins and, in their attempt to escape, accidentally triggered a warped space that transported them directly to my domain."

Valak arched an eyebrow. "And?"

"I asked them who they were, and they told me they were heading to Castellas for the entrance exam. They stayed at the palace for a few days before I teleported them to the academy myself."

Valak's crimson eyes narrowed. "So what's the problem?"

Historias' gaze darkened, his fingers lightly tapping against the desk. "I never saw them at the academy. I checked the records. They never enrolled."

A tense silence followed.

Valak's arms slowly lowered, his relaxed demeanor fading into something far more serious. "You're serious?"

"Completely."

Valak exhaled sharply, his usual smugness vanishing. "Do you remember their names?"

Historias nodded. "Lyrian Ironthorn, Reyna Aster, Darian Albrecht, Gareth Ironwood, Elara Nightwalker, and Cailan Voss." He listed them one by one, his voice steady, but his expression clouded with thought. "They were the ones who stumbled upon Everglen."

Valak's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "You're telling me six kids, who were supposed to be here, just vanished?"

"Not just vanished," Historias corrected, his arms crossing. "It's as if they were erased. No records, no mention of their names, nothing. As far as the academy is concerned, they never existed."

Valak ran a hand through his silver-streaked hair, his wings twitching slightly. "That's... not normal. Even if they failed the exam, there should still be some trace of them in the system. A failed application, a record of their participation—hell, even dorm assignments get documented before students arrive. But you're saying there's nothing?"

"Precisely." Historias' gaze sharpened, his usual nonchalant demeanor giving way to a rare seriousness. "Which raises the question—where are they?"

Valak folded his arms, his fingers tapping against his bicep in thought. "And you're certain they were planning to enroll?"

"They spoke of it constantly while staying at the Everglen Palace. They trained, studied, and even debated which classes they were most excited for. There was no doubt in their minds. Then suddenly... nothing."

Valak exhaled sharply, his tail flicking once in agitation. "That's not just weird, that's suspicious. If something happened to them, you'd think someone would've noticed. Families, friends—someone would be asking questions."

"That's what concerns me," Historias admitted, his fingers idly tracing the edge of his desk. "Six students don't just disappear without a trace. Either they never made it here, or someone ensured they were erased."

Valak's wings shifted slightly, his brows furrowing deeper. "You think someone targeted them?"

"It's one possibility. Or perhaps they stumbled upon something they weren't meant to. Either way, I intend to find out."

A heavy silence settled over the room, the weight of the revelation pressing down on them. The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across the walls.

Valak rubbed his temple. "Great. Just what I needed—another mystery." He let out a sharp sigh. "Alright, I'll see what I can dig up. Maybe there's something beyond the academy's records."

Historias nodded. "Appreciated."

Valak clicked his tongue. "Just try not to get yourself erased next, alright?"

Historias smirked. "I'll do my best."

With that, Valak turned toward the window, preparing to leave.

"You sure do know how to find trouble, old man."

Historias' lips curled slightly. "And yet, you keep showing up to help me."

Valak shot him a glare before leaping onto the windowsill. "Yeah, yeah." With a powerful beat of his wings, he vanished into the night, leaving nothing but a whisper of wind in his wake.

Historias stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty window.

Six missing students. No records. No trace.

He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening slightly around the edge of his desk.

"Just what are you hiding, Castellas?"

..........