The crackle of charcoal echoed softly from the fireplace.
Outside, the rain intensified—tapping harder against the windows as the wind began to shake the chalet's frame.
And in the middle of it all, Bell floated awkwardly—suspended between worlds, and under the sharp gaze of the Whispering Winds herself.
Haylee Way.
The Lord of Tempest.
And Bell? Yeah—he's definitely cooked tonight.
* * *
Jonathan stared at Bell, then turned his head toward Lia.
"Where did you find this damnation, Lia?" he asked, clearly unimpressed.
"Now, now…" Haylee interrupted, arms crossed as she sipped her wine. "Let's get a few things straight first. What exactly are you trying to pull here, Bell?"
Jonathan instinctively pulled Lia a step back, away from Bell.
Bell didn't resist—couldn't, really.
Being summoned through Haylee's incantation meant it couldn't vanish or escape easily.
"You're messing with my sole granddaughter, Bell," Haylee said, still watching the swirling wine in her glass. "Tread carefully."
"…Yes, ma'am," Bell muttered, head slumping in defeat.
They all settled again on the sofas near the fireplace.
Outside, the rain thickened into a steady roar, and the fireplace crackled with renewed energy.
Bell floated above them slowly, spinning like a ceiling fan.
"So…" it began, voice low.
"I am—and still technically am to this day—the Lightkeeper's hostage. I'm only allowed to roam freely inside academy grounds."
It paused, looking down at them.
"If I ever try some stupid stunt… like leaving the academy?"
Bell's tone dropped.
"My entire page would be turned to cinders. Instantly. No warning."
"So how could you be here unscathed?" Lia asked.
Bell stared at her, eyes wide, like it couldn't believe the question.
"I guess you haven't developed it yet, have you, dear?" Jonathan said, his tone softening slightly.
Haylee set her now-empty glass down on the table with a soft clink.
"Elves like us can summon beings in their spirit forms, Lia," she said, her tone calm but firm. "If your eyes were awakened, you'd see it—those silver highlights all over Bell's body. It's a sign that it's in spirit form, not physical."
She folded her hands in her lap.
"Using the Rah-su-mon spell, we can communicate through spirit. It can't be traced, and it's far safer than direct contact—where people could be waiting to trap us."
Jonathan stood and stepped closer to Bell, studying it.
His eyes narrowed. He tilted his head.
"…Are you even the same Bell?" he asked.
"The Ashbell I knew died by my own hand—skewered with a wind dagger."
He raised his right hand.
A thin dagger formed from high-pressure air, shimmering faintly in the firelight.
"Just like this."
Jonathan thrust the dagger of compressed air toward Bell.
It stopped—mere inches from Bell's face.
Yet Bell didn't flinch. It stood completely still. Unfazed.
"Alright then," Bell said, voice flat. "I'll come clean."
"I'm Ashbell #444. Compiled from the pages of my predecessors—right after Ashbell #318, who was destroyed by your hand, Jonathan, twenty-five years ago."
Its tone didn't waver.
"I'm actually the oldest of all the Ashbell copies. #1 and #444 were created simultaneously. But I was kept secret—hidden away in Aetherhold… what's now called Westhex Academy."
Bell floated lower, gaze drifting toward the fire.
"To be honest… Lia and her friends were the first humans I ever saw."
Bell paused, floating just above the floor.
"I already had a carbon copy of the memories from the other Bells—all of them. But me? I was just sitting there, in the secret basement of that abandoned building…
For centuries.
Like a forgotten NAS drive—full of data, no one ever came back for."
It slumped its head.
"Noctis doesn't know about this. They think Ashbell #1 is still out there—running free.
And me? I'm just a shadow. A carbon copy."
Across the room, Haylee raised both hands.
A shimmer sparked in the air.
She gently stroked the space in front of her—sculpting it. A long, spectral shape began to take form. Within seconds, she held what looked like an anti-material rifle made entirely of turbulent air.
She tilted her head, aiming the barrel directly at Bell.
"One more lie," she said coldly, "and I'll make your real body back at the academy a hollow husk."
Bell blinked slowly.
Then its expression shifted. Serious. Measured.
"I'll be honest with you, Lord of Tempest," Bell said.
"The Lightkeeper has been playing god for far too long.
This won't end clean."
It hovered lower, voice dropping.
"And that thing—the one that brought destruction across the country?"
A beat of silence.
"It's coming back.
Sooner than you think."
Lia leaned forward.
"'That thing'? What is it?"
Bell didn't answer.
But Jonathan did—his voice cutting clean through the tension.
"It's beyond what you know, Lia. Something your gran-gran, Bell, and I need to discuss in private."
He stood, then turned to her gently.
"Shouldn't you help your mom finish the soup? The rain's coming down hard, and it's getting cold."
Lia crossed her arms and started pouting.
With a dramatic sigh, she stood up and stormed off toward the kitchen.
"Fine! I'll help Mom—whatever!"
She threw a little fit on her way out, muttering under her breath.
As soon as she disappeared into the other room, the air in the chalet shifted—quieter, heavier.
Jonathan folded his arms. His expression darkened.
"Now that it's just us," he said, eyes narrowing at Bell.
"What exactly is going on here? Are the Noctis and the Lightkeeper still at war?"
Bell floated lower, its tone grim.
"Yes. They're still at war.
And both sides are abusing the time loop—badly.
So badly, I can feel the sky straining. It's going to tear open again… a black slit across the world, just like before."
Jonathan rubbed his temples and dropped his hand to his neck, exhaling hard.
He looked at Haylee.
"…The Witness," he muttered. "That's the name, isn't it?"
Haylee nodded solemnly.
"Yes, it is.
The Witness is the reason we're even out here, Nathan.
You were decapitated by one of Noctis's super soldiers, remember?"
Jonathan winced at the memory.
"But the Witness didn't allow it," she continued, her voice quieter now.
With a flick of her hand, a fresh bottle of wine drifted from the second floor—sailing down on a current of wind. It landed gently beside her.
"The Witness bends dimensions like threads. It doesn't change fate—it corrects it.
It's not an agent of destiny. It's an observer. A regulator.
It sees what's wrong… and resets it. Without favor. Without mercy."
She lifted a new glass beside her.
POP.
The cork flew off by itself.
The wine poured smoothly into the glass, as if the bottle were obeying unseen hands.
"I still remember how we were locked up in the cells of Archivum Noctis," Jonathan said, pulling his hair back with both hands.
"They were siphoning your power, Mom…"
His voice trailed, then picked back up with a faint chuckle.
"But when the Witness suddenly popped into the middle of the Noctis lab? I swear, I've never seen anyone—not even the Lightkeeper—look so freaked out."
He laughed under his breath, unable to hold it in.
"Can you imagine how embarrassing that was?" he grinned. "You pull out a light blade, all dramatic—only to watch the light bend away under the Witness's presence?"
He covered his face, laughing harder now.
"You try to stab someone," Jonathan said, chuckling, "and the blade just turns away.
Like—nope. Not today."
Haylee sipped her wine, her gaze distant.
"That's how the Witness works," she said calmly.
"For the ones causing harm, their memories are reset.
But for us—the victims—we live on.
We're returned to the day where they should've never touched us in the first place."
Bell hovered quietly, then let out a faint jeer, masking its nerves.
"…Any more questions, Lord of Tempest?" it asked, voice carefully measured.
Haylee didn't even look up.
"Nope."
She swiped her hand through the air—
FWMP.
Bell vanished instantly, as if the space it occupied had never existed.
"Daaaaad! Gran-gran! The soups done!" shout Lia from the dining area.
Haylee and Jonathan looked at each other and shrugged it away. They both stands at the same time and headed towards the dining room.
* * *
They gathered at the dining table, sharing the warmth of a quiet meal.
Haylee lifted her spoon, tasting the soup with a thoughtful pause.
Then her eyes widened.
"Damn, Victoria… how are you this good at cooking?" she said, clearly impressed.
"I just do my best, Mother," Victoria replied, bowing politely again.
"Yeah, Mom, this stuff's good. Nom nom nom," Lia said through a mouthful, dipping sourdough bread into the soup.
THUD.
Victoria kicked Lia's shin under the table.
"Ate mindfully, please," she hissed through gritted teeth.
"…Yes, Mom," Lia mumbled, slowing down her chewing.
Eventually, dinner wound down. As everyone finished, Victoria collected the plates and brought them to the kitchen.
Haylee folded her hands under her chin and turned to Lia.
"So, Lia… about the Compass Rose."
She rested her jaw on her interlocked fingers.
"You want to unlock it?"
Lia shrugged.
"Not really, Gran-gran."
"I've known since I was a kid that I've been under your blessing," Lia continued, lifting a hand as if to politely counter. "I think it'll unlock when the time is right."
Haylee laughed, full and bright.
"Ahahahahah… Spoken like a true wind master."
Then her tone dropped, voice firm.
"But I'm not just wind, Lia. I'm the Lord of Tempest. The raging wind.
It's not gentle. And it never will be."
Lia nodded.
"That's why, Gran-gran," she said softly. "That's exactly why I'm waiting.
When the time comes, I'll harness it. But for now—I want to focus on my studies and become a good doctor."
Jonathan smiled.
"Well. There you have it, Mom."
He looked at Lia, ruffling her hair with a grin.
"She's got the elf blood in her, sure—but this part?
This is the elf side too—choosing freedom over destiny."
"Daaaad!" Lia groaned, trying to fix her hair.
From the kitchen, Victoria couldn't help but smile as she washed the last of the dishes.
Victoria stepped out from the kitchen, drying her hands with a towel.
The sound of rain had softened into a gentle drizzle. Jonathan glanced toward the window and spoke up.
"Should we head back? I think the rain's finally let up... though it's already late."
"Why don't you stay the night?" Haylee offered. "I wouldn't mind the company."
So they did.
Victoria and Jonathan settled into the guest room downstairs, while Lia shared Haylee's room on the upper floor.
Later that night, Lia lay in bed, tucked under the blanket up to her neck, eyes blankly tracing the lines in the wooden ceiling.
"Gran-gran?" she asked softly.
"Hmmm?" Haylee replied from the bed beside her.
"…Where's Grandfather?" Lia asked.
Haylee didn't miss a beat.
"Who do you think is sitting in the Noctis holding cell right now?"
Lia flinched. "Sorry…"
"Don't be," Haylee said, voice quiet. "This is the way."
They both fell into silence. The room softened. Their eyes drifted shut.
Until—
CRASH.
The sound of glass shattering ripped through the quiet.
Both of them jolted upright. Lia threw off her blanket. Haylee was already on her feet, eyes locked on the stairwell.
They crept to the railing and looked down.
The lights were out. Pitch black.
But Haylee's gaze flickered—activating something beneath the surface.
She scanned the room below. Her breath caught.
Armed figures moved through the dark, black-clad and silent.
Victoria and Jonathan were being held at gunpoint.
Haylee's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Stay down, Lia… This is way out of your league."
Sweat beaded on her brow.
"Noctis special forces," she muttered.
"Of course their timing would be perfect."
"Cover your ears, Lia," Haylee said, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.
"For things are about to get loud."
Then she leapt clean over the railing.
Lia dropped to the floor, hands clamped over her ears, curling into herself as the chaos erupted below.
RAT-A-TAT-TAT!
The machine gun fire tore through the darkness.
Bullets punched into walls and shredded through the ceiling above.
BANG! BANG!
Muzzle flashes lit the room in sharp bursts—
And in those flashes, Haylee blinked from one side to the other, dodging bullets effortlessly, her body duplicating into flickering mirage doubles.
THUD.
The last man dropped, choked unconscious by Haylee's hands.
Breathing steadily, she turned and knelt beside Jonathan and Victoria—helping him carry her still-unconscious form gently to safety. Then she flipped the main breaker and the lights buzzed back on.
Upstairs, Lia still sat curled in the hallway, hands over her ears, trembling.
Haylee walked over and knelt beside her, placing a calming hand on her head.
"It's over now, Lia," she said gently. "You're safe."
* * *
Downstairs, Victoria slowly woke.
Jonathan helped her up as she groaned, confused and bleeding from the nose. They began packing immediately. Haylee joined them—moving swiftly. This place was compromised.
"They must've been tracking our car," Jonathan said, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, Mom."
"Don't be," Haylee replied calmly. "I've got hundreds of safe houses scattered across the country."
She pulled him into a hug.
"I'll contact you once I reach another one."
Then she turned to Lia.
The girl stood straight, hands clasped in front of her, looking unsure.
"Come here, you," Haylee said with a wave.
Lia stepped forward.
But as she got close—
Haylee pointed two fingers like a pistol and gently tapped Lia right on the collarbone.
FLASH.
A burst of green Aether rippled across Lia's body like wildfire—veins of light spreading outward before compressing back into the mark. It now glowed faintly.
Lia gasped and stumbled back, breathing hard, like she'd just sprinted a full kilometer.
"Wh—what did you do, Gran-gran?" she panted.
Haylee slipped on her sunglasses.
"It'll help you. If things get weird again—or if you're ever in real danger like tonight."
She threw her Birkin bag into the passenger seat of her coupe, slid into the driver's seat, and slammed the pedal to the floor.
The car screeched away toward the horizon.
Victoria and Jonathan stood beside Lia, watching the taillights fade into the rain-kissed night.
"When am I gonna get a Birkin like Mom's?" Victoria said, half-joking, nudging Jonathan.
"When I'm as rich as her," Jonathan muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
* * *
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
"Ms. Vernoux. There's someone asking for you on the phone in the common room," the dorm matron called from behind the door.
Lia stirred from her slumber, eyes squinting, hair messy.
Ugh... felt like I was having a nightmare...
"Coming..." she called back.
She washed her face, grabbed her robe, and made her way to the common room—still half-asleep.
Lia picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"How's it going, Lia baby?" said the voice on the other end of the line.
"Gran-gran? How long has it been—two weeks?" Lia asked, surprised.
"Yep. As you can hear, I'm alive and well. Living in the southern part of the country now—where the ocean's blue and the sand is pink. Come visit me when you get the chance, okay, dear?" Haylee said warmly.
"Yes, Gran-gran…" Lia replied.
"And one more thing. Be careful with Ashbell. Don't let it fool you—
It was born as a tool to dominate.
And remember... they still have your grandfather in their holding cell."
A pause.
"Love you."
CLACK.
The line went dead.
Lia sighed, then glanced at her reflection in the glass door nearby.
The Compass Rose mark on her collarbone glowed softly.
Faint.
Green.
Sometimes.
* * *