Elves were nearly all born spellcasters.

As the nominal leader of her kin, Fawena was naturally a seasoned caster too.

With another Bronze Lantern and magic’s aid, she pierced the sea of fog effortlessly, arriving above Lundeheim.

The Champion and Sorceress awaited her there.

“Good day, Governor,” Shall murmured.

Lyselle had never cared for such formalities.

*Just say what you need. Why waste time on hollow pleasantries when we’re in a crisis?*

Annoyed, she blurted directly at the hurried Fawena:

“Mula’s gone missing.”

Fawena froze mid-gesture of returning Shall’s greeting.

Her gaze instinctively flicked to the Lantern levitated beside Lyselle by Mage Hand.

Lyselle opened her mouth to explain it was Mula’s dropped loot—but Fawena cut in first:

“I see… I recognize this Lantern. I gave it to him myself.”

“?”

Lyselle squinted at her own Lantern, then at Shall’s. She couldn’t spot any difference.

*Maybe Fawena has some secret way to tell.*

*Whatever. Elf business. Like their Matriarch. Like this fog. Riddlers never change.*

Though irked by the cryptic Governor, Lyselle guided the Bronze Lantern—likely Mula’s last relic—toward Fawena with Mage Hand.

Fawena didn’t take it. She shook her head.

“Mula’s gone. His Lantern should go to someone who needs it more… I believe he’d want it that way too.”

Her emerald eyes, shadowed with worry, met Lyselle’s.

“So… would you keep it for now, Sorceress?”

Unable to refuse, Lyselle retracted the Lantern.

Fawena offered a grateful, faint smile.

“Thank you,” she whispered, turning to Shall. “But this isn’t a place to talk. Follow me.”

Holding a third Lantern, she sank slowly into the fog.

The Champion and Sorceress exchanged glances.

After a silent moment, they followed her descent.

The fall was slower than their ascent.

Three Bronze Lanterns carved a five-meter bubble through the fog. Inside it, the Champion, Sorceress, and Elven Governor drifted downward toward Lundeheim.

Fawena’s voice broke the silence from ahead:

“Did either of you witness Mula’s disappearance?”

Brimming with questions, Lyselle answered instantly:

“No. We were investigating missing Elves together when Mula suddenly saw something in the fog and chased after it alone.”

“Shall and I were a step behind. By the time we caught up… he was gone. Only this Lantern and a Pocket Watch remained.”

She nudged Shall to show the watch.

He produced it carefully and offered it to Fawena.

Like the Lantern, she refused it with a shake of her head.

“You found it. Keep it for Mula… for now.”

Lyselle caught the word “for now.”

“So Mula’s unharmed? He’ll return soon?”

Fawena’s reply was firm:

“I don’t know where he is or if he’s safe. But as long as he’s in Lundeheim, we’ll find him—and the others who vanished.”

*Where’s her confidence coming from?* Lyselle thought sourly. *Even we who nearly saw it happen aren’t sure we can bring him back whole.*

*—He might’ve already been erased by the Matron.*

She kept that thought silent, merely echoing Fawena before steering the topic:

“So Elves are vanishing all over Lundeheim?”

Fawena’s expression tightened.

“Yes. Beyond Mula and the ones you noticed, reports pour in from every district.”

“Has this ever happened before?”

“Never.”

“Then the disappearances, this fog, and the mad Matriarch must be connected?”

“…Likely.”

Fawena paused, then shook her head again.

“But we’ve found no concrete link between them.”

Lyselle arched a brow.

“No link? You Elves don’t need me to spell it out—haven’t you considered the vanished ones questioned the Matron before vanishing?”

“You mean…” Fawena frowned deeply. “The Matron took them? As punishment for doubting Her?”

“Exactly.”

“But…” Fawena looked stunned. “Elves have doubted Her before.”

“And your Matron wasn’t mad then,” Lyselle sighed. “Madness makes anyone act against reason. Your Matron’s no exception.”

*She was bluffing.*

*Mad humans break rules. But a mad AI? Who could predict that?*

*She had no choice but to treat the Matron as human.*

To her surprise, Fawena still shook her head firmly.

“No. Not just before… but now too.”

A bitter smile touched her lips.

“Sorceress… if Mother punished disloyalty, why am I still standing here?”

Her voice dropped, laced with irony.

“After all… no Elf in Lundeheim is more disloyal to Her than I am.”

*Right,* Lyselle realized. *If the Matron purges ‘faulty parts,’ why spare Fawena?*

*While others merely doubted, this Governor hired Shall to assassinate the Matron.*

*She’s the ultimate traitor. If I were the Matron, I’d have erased her first.*

*Yet Mula vanished for mere suspicion… while Fawena remained.*

Her theory crumbled.

Fawena drove the nail deeper:

“Among the missing are Elves born alongside me—Her most loyal ‘children.’”

“So the vanished weren’t necessarily taken by Mother. Or if She took them… not as punishment.”

“Then why?” Lyselle pressed. “And if not the Matron, who’s behind this?”

Fawena shook her head.

“I know no more than you do.”

“…”

Lyselle fell silent.

They’d just found a path to the truth—only for Fawena to plant a giant “DEAD END” sign before them.

*If the Matron didn’t take them… who did?*

*Could her wild guess be right? Is Lundeheim’s chaos not just from within… but outside forces seizing the chaos?*

The mystery thickened.

*Bad news. Headache incoming.*

Then Shall’s voice cut through:

“Then tell us what we don’t know. The fog’s truth. Why you call it the Matriarch’s Dream. Why these Lanterns repel it.”

*Good boy, Shall.*

Lyselle fixed hopeful eyes on Fawena.

But the Governor only murmured:

“You’ll learn the answers… but not yet.”

Lyselle nearly fumed at the riddler.

*Maybe I should convince Shall to abandon this quest. Other city-states have revival materials for the Priestess—*

“We’ve arrived.”

Lyselle looked down. Blurry building shapes emerged beyond the Lantern-lit bubble.

Moments later, a structure thrust into view.

—A cathedral.

Fawena landed before its doors.

“Surviving Elves gather here for a council. Your questions…” She glanced back, her tone grave. “May find answers inside.”

[To Be Continued]