"Defeating a dragon," Raquel continued, her voice heavy with the memory, "was almost impossible for him. He understood his capabilities, his limitations. He was a practical man, not prone to flights of fancy. But he didn't give up. He knew he had to prove himself, to earn her trust."
"He started researching, trying to find the weakest kind of dragons. He learned about crystal dragons, creatures that resided in the Azure Peak, or what people called the Azure Range. Even fighting one of those was a death wish, but he was determined."
"He understood that he needed a different approach. He began experimenting with creatures that shared similar biological characteristics with crystal dragons. He found information about crystal moles, or 'molusicals,' as some texts called them. They were small, fast creatures, but they possessed a crystalline structure in their bodies."
"He captured one, a feat that took hours of patience and careful magic. They were quick and agile, but his gravity magic was precise enough to ensnare one. He began experimenting, trying to understand their crystalline composition, their weaknesses. But every experiment failed. He couldn't replicate the dragon's resilience, couldn't find a way to weaken their defenses."
"Then, he took a… a rather unorthodox path. He took wet sand, fine and malleable, and covered the crystal mole entirely, encasing it in a thick layer of it above the skin of the creature. He then used his second affinity, fire, to expose the sand to intense heat, almost like radiation."
"His first attempt was to simply dry the sand, hoping to turn it into a protective shell, a kind of statue. But it wasn't enough. The crystalline shell of the mole remained unaffected. He pushed himself further, beyond his limits, maintaining the intense heat for hours. Finally, the sand began to crystallize, transforming into a hard, crystalline substance that encased the mole completely."
Areion spoke, his voice low and resonant, mirroring the somber tone of Raquel's tale. "He used his gravity magic, to zer force inside new crystal, to burst the skin outward. He peeled it away, like the skin of a fruit, exposing the vulnerable core of the creature." He looked at Raquel, his crimson eyes reflecting the understanding that passed between them. It was as if his tongue moved of its own accord, driven by a deeper connection to the story.
Raquel nodded, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Yes, like that. He was able to kill the creature. He finally had a plan. But… fate was cruel."
Her voice faltered, the weight of grief settling heavily in the small shed. "The kingdom fell into despair. She died on the front lines, protecting her people. Her corpse was brought to the capital city, Lorium. It was said she fought seven great mages alone, before… before she fell."
"He cried. He cried a lot. For the first time, not for himself, but for someone he cared about. Someone he considered a mother." Her voice cracked, a raw emotion escaping her carefully constructed composure. "But… he wasn't allowed to touch her corpse. He wasn't allowed to mourn her properly. Even after she was buried in Valhalla graveyard…"
She paused, her gaze locking with Areion's. "You probably went there, like any other noble child. You probably heard about her sacrifice, her courage. But you never truly understood. You never knew how privileged you were to stand before her tomb, while for years, my husband sat outside the graveyard gates, waiting for her to rise, to take his hand, to teach him again. But that day… it never came."
"Over time, he learned. He learned from his mistakes. He understood the meaning behind her request, the reason she sent him to face the dragon. But he never told me what it was. He never explained the significance. Hopefully," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, her gaze piercing, "hopefully, you will know it before it's too late, my lord."
Raquel finally fell silent, leaving Areion and Romona in a stunned silence. The weight of her story, the raw emotion that permeated the small shed, hung heavy in the air.
A heavy silence settled over the small shed, the air thick with the unspoken emotions that hung between them. Areion, his usually composed demeanor fractured, shifted uncomfortably on his stool. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.
"I… Ah… mhm… I don't know what to say," he stammered, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "I don't think I can…"
Romona, her expression mirroring his own discomfort, nodded in agreement. "We can't say much," she murmured, her voice laced with a quiet empathy. "But we can feel for him. How he must have felt, his entire life…"
Raquel nodded, a sad, knowing smile gracing her lips. "Yes," she said, her voice soft. "He started teaching kids from… ungrateful circumstances. Kids like himself, years ago. He did it for years. During the day, he managed the public library. And at night, he taught these children."
"Over time, his influence grew. He was appointed to the royal library. He understood that the knowledge contained within those walls shouldn't be confined to the nobility. It should be accessible to everyone."
Her voice hardened slightly. "So, he started allowing kids to take books, to learn. He called it lending. But to some nobles, it was stealing. 'Scum,' they called him."
Romona, her gaze fixed on the untouched tea in her hands, seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then, she spoke, her voice low and hesitant. "And… where is he now?"
Raquel's eyes immediately welled up with tears, the grief she had been holding back finally breaking through her composure. Romona, her heart aching for the old woman, moved quickly to her side, gently wiping away the tears that streamed down her face. Areion remained seated, his expression a mixture of sadness and understanding, his gaze fixed on Raquel.
Raquel continued, her voice breaking with emotion, "They took him. They said… they said… they said…" Her voice trailed off, lost in a sob.
Romona gently guided Raquel to the cramped bed in the corner of the shed, laying her down as she was clearly exhausted from the emotional toll of her story. She looked at Areion, her eyes filled with concern. "It took a lot from her, Your Highness. I think we should let her rest. I understand why you wanted to come here now."
Areion stood up from the stool, his features softening as he looked at Raquel's sleeping form. He almost imagined Vivienne lying there, worn and weary. He opened his mouth, his voice barely a whisper. "Mateo. At least we got a name."