Edin dried himself and dressed in a hurry. It was almost six o'clock in the evening; he would be late for dinner. He only had a few minutes. He hastened his footsteps as he trod down the stairwell and paced towards the dining hall. If he could walk fast enough, he should be able to make it in a minute.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. No, he could not make it. He was supposed to be the one preparing dinner. If they were to dine at six, he should have been in the kitchen by five o'clock at the latest.

He was not running late—he already was.

He dashed towards the kitchen. The sound of simmering soup, clanging metal, and clinking of dinnerware rang from the room. He opened the doors. Arden was already inside, supervising the work of her magic.

She turned around to face him. Though he could not see her eyes, he could sense them narrowing into slits. It was one of those moments where one would be thankful her bangs were long enough to conceal her upper face. Had they not existed, one would be at the receiving end of a razor-sharp glare.

"You're very late. What were you up to?"

"I-I was showering."

She sighed. "Edin, I know how nice warm showers and baths can be, but this is not the time. You know I work six days a week and come home every evening fatigued from work. I have to protect at least a dozen towns, take care of you, and manage a million other things. The least you could do is not delay my dinner. Look, I'm starving!"

A grumble sounded from where she stood.

"That's how hungry I am."

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

She snorted. "You're lucky I don't have a night shift today. Wait in the dining hall. I've done everything for you."

Her tone cut him like a chef's knife slicing through butter. With a meek nod, he walked towards the door and left.

Edin mentally cursed himself as he made his way towards the dining hall. He had no excuses. There was no excuse for him to linger in the shower for nearly two hours when he had a task to do—and it was not a hard one, either. He worried about her hating him. His inner voice told him not to. She had chided him a couple of times before, but that did not stop her from looking after him. Even after all the mistakes he had committed, she would often tell him that it was understandable since every person was prone to them.

Except Arden. She never made mistakes. At least, Edin had never seen her commit one. He wondered if she ever had.

After a long and straight stroll from the end of one wing to the end of another wing of the castle, he arrived at the dining hall. Like the rest of the castle, the dining hall was opulent. A long table stretched from one end to the other. Though it was long enough to accommodate sixty-four diners, it had only thirty-two chairs and had only seated two for the past few years. Stained glass paintings were framed within the stone walls, its enchanted shards radiating the illusion of sunlight pouring into the chamber. If that was not bright enough, the row of cut-glass chandeliers hanging from the arched ceiling was even more radiant.

Arden entered not long after, leaving the doors open. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and watched the table set itself. Four glasses were filled: two smaller glasses to hold the finest red wine, and two cylindrical ones for cool mineral water. Silverware marched across the tablecloth before resting next to porcelain plates and bowls. A symphony of savory scents diffused throughout the hall as ceramic dishes brought their food. First, small bowls of salad made with vegetables fresh from the nearest farm, topped with crunchy croutons and tossed with extra virgin olive oil and a drizzle of vinaigrette; next, steaming-hot bowls of wild mushroom and truffle bisque, with slices of warm and crusty bread on the side; and for their main course, a whole rotisserie chicken seasoned with a dozen herbs and spices, served with savory potato purée and grilled asparagus. Metal utensils plated each dish, constructing each course like an artist sculpting a statue.

Edin salivated. In contrast, Arden showed only the slightest hint of appetency. She often showed the slightest hint of any emotion for that matter—lest one push her close to the extremes, as Edin had unintentionally done.

The chairs pulled themselves out of the table and the two took their seats. They reached for their napkins, unfolded them, and placed them on their laps. They then dined.

Roughly ten minutes had passed. While Edin was already having his first bites of meat, Arden was still emptying her bowl of bisque. She slightly lifted her chin while the corners of her lips lowered a little. Upon noticing that, he slowed down.

As she dipped her spoon into the soup, she asked him, "So, when did you leave home?"

His mouth was still chewing a succulent cut of chicken. He swallowed. "About five minutes after you left. What was your errand?"

"I picked up some files from some offices in Laeten, including the Civil Registry."

He only nodded his head. The next few minutes passed in silence—well, not total silence, for they still made sounds with all their cutlery-wielding—as they focused on their food and beverage. Neither party felt the need to exchange words over their meal. Arden carried on with her dinner as though Edin did not exist. Years of living alone made her accustomed to dining as though she were without company, even if there was another presence at the table.

As for Edin, he could not clearly recall any instances of eating or drinking before Arden rescued him. The most he could muster were still images of his hands handling meat with the aid of a fork and knife. He did not remember whether he was eating at a table or on a bed, whether he was dining alone or with family, or anything else. After observing her quiet attitude towards dining, he assumed that casual conversations were not preferred at the dining table. His amnesia, strangely enough, did not erase his table manners. He knew how to handle a fork and knife, wipe himself with a napkin, and chew with his mouth closed. Although, one could argue that it was thanks to intuition and muscle memory that he recalled how to do such things. It was not like he knew everything either. Sometimes he would observe his mentor and follow her move if he was unsure. Other times, when he would commit an impropriety, she would express her disapproval with the faintest frown. It was during their first meal together when she supposed that his background was likely not as noble as hers.

"Anyway, we both know that I've been training you for two and a half years," she said. She had finished her soup and moved on to her main course. "You've progressed so quickly; I think you're ready."

"Ready?"

"Ready to become a guardian," she elaborated. She paused to sip some red wine. "We'll be starting the recruiting process very soon. I've already spoken to my fellow seniors about it, and we agreed that you can join this time."

"Oh." The mixed emotions were evident in his short response. Clearly, his encounter with a beast had affected him.

"Are you scared?"

"A bit."

"Don't worry, you won't be alone. You'll be paired up with another recruit once you start, and you'll only be stationed in less dangerous areas."

He gave a short nod.

"Earlier, you said you slew a beast. Which one was it?"

"It was a glæsseling, I think."

"A glæsseling?"

"I'm not sure if I remembered the name correctly. It's the black and red beast with its knees bent backward, really small eyes, and big nostrils. It also had a really long tongue that almost pierced me."

"It was a glæsseling. Wow. I'm surprised you managed to kill it. It's far from the weakest beast out there, although, it's not the strongest one either."

He gulped. Coincidentally, he was sipping wine at that time.

"Anyway, I've borrowed another spellbook from a minor archive in Ildor. I have a feeling this one might work."

"I hope it does."

"I hope so too. Have you managed to regain any memories yet?"

He shook his head. "I only get brief flashes here and there, but that's it."

"We'll try again after dinner."

And no more words crossed the dining table after that. They had dessert about forty minutes later. After the table had been cleared of their previous courses, two small plates floated into the hall, each carrying a slice of soft, smooth, blueberry cheesecake. One of his favorite desserts, among a laundry list of favorites. Edin picked up his dessert spoon as soon as he spotted the plate passing through the door. His mentor, on the other hand, was more patient—or simply less excited. They took roughly the same amount of time to finish their dessert.

After their evening meal, they headed to their respective bathrooms to brush and floss their teeth. They then met again at the main hall before heading to the basement together. It was a far cry from the typical castle dungeon, which would have rows of dimly lit cells that housed the souls of foes, dead or alive. No, Arden's basement was far more comfortable and welcoming. Yellow-tinged lighting from sleek lamps illuminated the basement. A line of wooden bookcases, offering a selection of tomes and novels, leaned against the left wall. Console tables were fixed to the opposite wall, holding small flower vases, framed portraits, and other decorations. Soft sofas and armchairs, with plush pillows resting on their seats, made the area look more like a lounge. At the far end of the room was a single aisle with three doors, each leading to a vault or storage area of some sort.

Arden summoned a pair of tufted armchairs and positioned them so that they faced each other. The two each took a seat across one another. She opened the spellbook, placed it on her lap, and turned to a page she had bookmarked. She read the instructions.

"Of all the flashes from your past that you remembered, which one was the most vivid?" she asked him.

"It was when I was creating fire and lightning," he replied.

"Describe it in as much detail as you can."

He took a deep breath. "It was dark. There was darkness all around me, and I was struggling against it. I remember firing a bolt of lightning, but it didn't really work. I used blue fire instead. And then I got hit somehow, and I fell."

Arden looked up from the book. She then outstretched her arms. "Close your eyes and hold my hands."

He did so promptly.

"Take a deep breath."

He inhaled.

Arden's body glowed a bright white as light magic flowed from her core, forming vines that emerged from the top of her shoulders and slithered down her arms. Edin shuddered as her magic entered him through his palms.

"Do you see anything?"

"I see that memory, where I was fighting."

"Is it clearer?"

"It's not."

"Try. Look at the darkness. Is it shaped in some way?"

"They're shapeless." He squirmed. "My head hurts."

Arden felt a force pushing against her magic. She channeled more of it through her arms. She clasped her hands tighter. "Focus, Edin."

"My head hurts!"

Boom. Dark magic burst from his head and severed their connection, sending the two of them flying into the backs of their armchairs. Edin reached for his forehead and massaged it.

"Are you alright?"

"The pain's dissipating," he said, panting. "It felt like my skull was cracking open from the inside."

"Well, the good news is your skull is still intact. Are your memories back?"

He paused. He then shook his head, saying, "No they're not."

She sighed. "The curse really is strong. I've never seen anything like it."

"Is there someone else you can ask to help break it?"

"I have. Remember when I extracted a sample of your curse and asked some experts about it? None of them recognized it, nor did any of them have an idea on how to break it."

"But we will break it, right?"

She gave a firm nod. "We will."

In the back of her mind, she wondered why he would be cursed in the first place. Though she sensed potential in him, she did not find him to be extraordinarily powerful. Perhaps most of his power was still not unlocked.

"Anyway, since you didn't go to any of the academies, you'll have to pass a test if you want to enter the Guild," she informed. "The test is next week. I think we've had a long day already, so I'll tell you more about it tomorrow."

"Okay."

"I'll be doing some more work in my quarters." She rose from her seat. "Good night."

"Good night."

They then left the basement, splitting paths once they reached the first floor.

Arden retreated to her private space to pore over some documents. A beeping sound emanated from her nightstand. Someone had messaged her. She stood up, walked towards it, and picked up her phone. It was one of the officers from Laeten's biometrics department. Edin's biometric data had no match with anybody in their database. Arden sighed. So far, she had not found a single match.

Meanwhile, Edin spent his time gazing upward from his bed. His mind was occupied. His battle against the glæsseling. His hidden past. His readiness to become a guardian. It was the last item that kept him awake. Perhaps he was merely lucky that he made it out alive that afternoon. Perhaps he would end up injured the next battle—or worse, dead. He shook his head. No, Arden herself said that he was ready. If she believed in him, then he should believe in himself.

Edin tucked himself under the blanket and rolled to the other side. Another image flashed in his mind. He shuddered.

He saw a red liquid. Against his will, his mouth watered.