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墨書 Inktalez
Leonard stormed out, leaving the room enveloped in a heavy silence, a silence woven from betrayal and disbelief like a shroud.
The crackling flames in the fireplace seemed to mock this cold stillness, each pop and hiss punctuating the unspoken words with exclamation marks.
Aelia stood frozen, her hand still tightly gripping the exquisite wooden bird that Luna had quietly slipped to her moments before.
This little bird appeared to be a harmless trinket, yet it concealed a hidden compartment containing a crumpled note.
The note detailed Leonard's infidelity, the painful specifics etched into her mind.
The world felt as if it were spinning out of control.
The firelight flickered in her eyes, casting not warmth but the cold glow of shattered dreams.
Her breathing quickened, a choked gasp lodged in her throat.
Three-year-old Luna, with her angelic face, gazed up at her mother with wide, intelligent eyes.
She reached out her small hand and patted her mother’s skirt, an action far too mature for her age.
This touch was meant to soothe and reassure Aelia, but in this chaotic moment, it felt like a sharp needle, piercing through to remind her of the harsh reality.
The room began to stir with movement.
Whispers scurried like frantic mice across the floor, brushing against the heavy tapestry and echoing off the arched ceiling.
Qin Si, Aelia's loyal maid, hurried to her side, worry etched across her face.
Her hand hovered above Aelia's arm, the air thick with unspoken questions.
Finally, Aelia stirred.
She closed her eyes, trembling as she took a deep breath, the wooden bird pressing against her palm.
When she opened her eyes again, the firelight reflected off her glacier-like, cold gaze.
She turned around, scanning the room and landing on each astonished face.
Their stares and the unasked questions weighed heavily upon her.
Yet deep within her icy gaze, a spark ignited.
Not warmth, but something far more dangerous—determination.
In other parts of the vast castle, the looming pressure of an impending crisis also enveloped the residents of Glory Castle.
Her elder brother's leg twisted at an unnatural angle, a constant reminder of the magic backlash that had left him disabled.
He gazed out at the darkening sky, the gray clouds mirroring the desolation within him.
He clenched his fists, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface like a simmering pot.
He longed to protect his family, bravely facing the impending storm, but his broken body felt like a cage, trapping him in a helpless prison.
Second Brother paced anxiously in the room, like a whirlwind of worry.
He ran his fingers through his hair, the image of his betraying friend—the one who had lured him into the Magic Trap—haunting his mind.
He could feel the Evil Magic clinging to him, like Parasitic Vines slowly draining his life force.
Despair gnawed at him, like a merciless beast clawing at his sanity.
The youngest, Third Brother, hunched over in front of a dusty ancient book, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on his face.
Regret consumed his heart.
He had squandered his talent, chasing fleeting pleasures instead of honing his magical skills.
Now, faced with a crisis that could tear his family apart, he felt the sting of wasted potential.
He slammed the book shut, the sound echoing his frustration.
He had to do something—anything—to make amends for his past Error.
Lucius watched this scene unfold from the shadows, a tightening sensation in his stomach.
His family, his home, everything he cherished was hanging by a thread.
He was filled with an unsettling certainty that sent chills down his spine; he had to take action.
Turning towards the library, his footsteps echoed in the silent corridor as his mind raced, plotting and planning.
He had to find a way to save everyone.
Back in the hall, the tension in the air was so thick it felt almost tangible.
A bitter, metallic taste lingered, mixed with the acrid scent of impending doom.
Aelia's face was etched with cold fury as she gripped a wooden carving of a bird tightly, her knuckles turning white.
She stared at Luna, her fiery gaze making the little girl seem even smaller.
"Luna," she said softly, her voice nearly drowned out by the crackling fire, "tell me everything."
The girl met Mother’s gaze with unwavering maturity that belied her age.
A strange, knowing smile emerged at the corners of her lips.
"Mom," she began, her voice gentle yet firm, "there's so much you still don't know..."
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