After briefly discussing their plan, the children wasted no time and rushed toward the guest cabin where Selin was currently staying.
Having spent several days in the village, the elf found the slow-paced rural life surprisingly refreshing. While she loved Yggdrasil with all her heart and considered it the most beautiful continent to live on, sometimes it helped to change scenery and gain a new perspective. Thus, she decided to extend her stay just a little longer.
Despite feeling slightly uncomfortable and ashamed for having failed to fulfill the expectations placed upon her, Selin was thick-skinned enough to push those feelings aside. She knew she had given her all—and that thought offered some solace. She also wanted to aid the elders in their ongoing search for ways to heal her patient. Her experience and medical knowledge, which diverged significantly from the elders' traditional views, could help shed light on the boy's dire condition.
Just as she laid out her tools and was ready to begin sketching the new painting she had been postponing for days, there was a knock at the door. Selin flinched. No one usually disturbed her unless it was absolutely necessary.
When did I become so careless that I didn't even notice someone approaching my house? she thought as she stood up to greet her visitors. Upon opening the door, she saw no one at eye level—only when she looked down did she spot two children waiting at her doorstep.
"Gray? Grace? What are you two doing here?" Selin asked, surprised by the unexpected visit.
"Aunt Selin, you don't want to see us?" Grace countered with a question of her own.
"Of course not! I'm happy to see you both. Honestly, I thought you might be upset with me… for not being able to heal Gray."
"Aunt Selin, please don't think that way. We know you did everything you could, and we're very grateful to you for that," Gray replied, scratching his nose bashfully.
"Yeah, sorry, Auntie. We didn't mean to make you feel neglected," Grace added.
"No worries. I'm just glad you came. So, what brings you here?" Selin asked, eager to change the subject.
"Oh right! Aunt Selin, can you help us with our schoolwork? Everyone else in the village is busy and doesn't want to help," Grace explained, remembering their mission.
That request genuinely surprised Selin. She had seen firsthand how deeply the villagers cared for the twins. Still, despite her initial shock, the plea filled her with a quiet joy. It felt like an act of trust—proof that the children didn't hold a grudge for her failure to heal Gray. And even though she rationally knew she wasn't at fault, a small part of her still felt like she had let them down.
Fortunately, she was blissfully unaware of the twins' true motivation—for them, she was the final card up their sleeve. Pleased by their visit, Selin invited them into the house. It was the guest cabin, built for the rare travelers who passed through the village.
Though it rarely saw use, the cabin had been fully furnished and could comfortably accommodate two guests. Thanks to the power and skills of the villagers, constructing such a building was no burden at all.
Currently, the cabin was filled with various forest landscape paintings Selin had made during her stay. Though the children thought the artworks lacked a narrative, they appreciated the lifelike depiction of scenery. The deep green jungles of Yggdrasil stood in stark contrast to the violet thickets of Nightingale. It was atmospheric.
Looking around, Grace asked, "Aunt Selin, do you have a painting of the Tree of Life? I've always dreamed of seeing it with my own eyes."
"Little Grace, even if I painted the Tree of Life from memory, I could never capture its majesty or vastness. The Tree is sacred—it sustains all life on Eridania. How can a mere mortal convey its beauty? Not even a god could manage that," Selin responded with reverence.
"Do you think I could see it if I visited Yggdrasil?" the curious girl asked again.
"He-he-he, only if the elven elders deem you worthy. You must understand—the Tree of Life isn't some tourist attraction anyone can just walk into," Selin chuckled.
"I'm sure they'll let me in," Grace grinned. "But Aunt Selin, let's get back to our schoolwork. Sunset isn't far off," Gray cut in, bringing the conversation back on track.
"Alright," the girls agreed in unison.
Soon, they began quizzing the elf on all the questions they had yet to answer. Selin was surprised by how advanced the topics were for such young students, but being highly educated, she helped them with ease.
An hour later, their assignment was complete. Thanking the elf, the children ran home, exhausted both emotionally and physically. All they wanted now was a soft bed and deep, dreamless sleep.
The next day, they headed to the blind elder's hut full of energy. This time, they were well prepared and ready to impress.
Throughout the lesson, a faint smile played on the elder's lips. A trace of approval flickered in his unseeing eyes—it was clear the children had done exactly what he hoped. Toward the end of the class, during which he had barely intervened, the old man suddenly asked:
"Gray, Grace, don't you have something to ask me?"
After a quick, whispered exchange, they decided to speak honestly. They already knew they couldn't beat the elder at his own game, and their trump card would soon be leaving the village anyway.
"Grandpa, why did you make it so hard to complete the assignments you gave us?" Grace asked with a tinge of resentment.
"Yeah, you told us to study a topic, and we did. Why did you ask the villagers to get in our way?" Gray added.
"He-he-he. My little friends, tell me—why do you think the information we discuss in our lessons is so important?" the elder asked in response.
"It will help us survive, even if we're all alone," Gray answered. He already knew his sister disliked such questions.
"Exactly. Information is the foundation of any society's growth. Awareness allows you to make sound decisions, assess risks, and weigh opportunities. As I've told you, knowledge is power. And any form of power comes at a cost. While your current goal is to absorb as much knowledge as you can, you must also learn to value what you're being given."
"We understand, Grandpa. But you said yourself we should learn as much as possible! How are we supposed to learn more if it's so difficult to get answers?" Gray asked, still a bit confused.
"My dear boy, more doesn't always mean better. What we gain through hardship, we value far more than what is handed to us. That's just human nature. I don't want you growing up expecting everything to be served to you on a silver platter. I want you to learn how to uncover the truth on your own, to discern lies from facts, to think critically and creatively. Tell me honestly, who was the first to detect the problem?"
"I was," they both said.
"Not surprising. Gray, you always work hard and study more than your sister. But why do you think she was the first to realize there was a problem and even figured out a solution?"
"I don't know," Gray replied honestly.
"By trying to remember everything from our lessons, you became so focused that you forgot to look around. Your thoughts lost their creativity, and your eyes their awareness," the elder explained. "Grace, on the other hand, always stays true to herself. She's unbound by rules and conventions, learning through experience and never afraid to challenge what we teach. On the flip side, your sister lacks the focus to thoroughly understand the information—she could miss details even if they were laid out in front of her."
"Then what should we do, old man? You don't like that Gray's focused, but you also disapprove of my learning style. What do you want from us, anyway?" Grace huffed, still annoyed at his manipulations.
"Ahahah, little Grace, I'm not scolding you. I'm pointing out your weaknesses so you know where to improve. Everything in moderation. Great accomplishments require balance. Remember—information can be false, outdated, or incomplete. Out in the world, you must be discerning to avoid straying from the path."
"How about a little game?" the elder offered with a smile. "If you succeed, I promise I'll convince your mother and Constantine and Constance to take you to one of Nightingale's cities."
"Really?" the twins asked in sync.
"Of course! Have I ever lied to you?"
"Alright, what's the game?" Grace asked, eager to get started.
"It's simple. This time, you'll have only one question to research. I won't tell the villagers what it is, but they'll know you're investigating something and will try to figure out what it is by watching your actions. Their job will be to interfere—giving you false information or dodging your inquiries if they suspect you're doing schoolwork. If by next month you've gathered reliable, well-supported data, I'll make the trip happen."
"Easy!" / "Umu!" the children responded in unison.