𝐄𝐜𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐬 · 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

The Grand Finale

The second day of the third week of their staying, Murin suddenly senses what’s wrong.

The books.

The tea that Illium keep inside their walls as a great secret.

The knowledge of the Guild.

She tells her suspicions to Siorial only after three more days, having doubted her thoughts and her thoughts of Cyril turning her mind upside down.

But she decides to ask him.

“Cyril?”

“Yes, come in.”

She enters his warm, carpeted room.

“Look at me, Cyril.”

He turns back to see her staff once again pointed at him, a strange remembrance of their first meeting.

He sighs finally and asks, “How did you find out?”

Murin’s heart sinks. She was counting on her suspicions to be false, to know that Cyril was not who she thought, but this…

Does she have tears in her eyes? No. No way. No.

“The books,” her voice wavers, “you said you’ve never been outside the forest yet you have so many books. The Keepers of the Guild are supposed to be a secret. The tea in Illium are only taken to certain people.”

Cyril purses his lips thoughtfully, “I didn’t realise I’d made so many mistakes.”

“Let me see your weapon.”

A bronze-coloured staff appear in Cyril’s hands and his clothes change to a yellow cape, its style much like Murin’s.

It has the Capital’s seal over the heart.

“You were in the Guild before. Who are you?” Murin murmurs, lowering her weapon slightly, “Why are you terrorising and killing more people?”

Cyril - is his name even Cyril? - frowns, “I never killed anyone!”

“Then who was the person I fought two months ago?”

“My-my father. He passed away two weeks ago and I buried him.”

“Why are you hiding?”

“It was just because I was the descendant of a bastard son of Urung, the godforsaken tyrant of the previous Empire so everyone wants my head! It was just because I was the son of so and so that I was banned! And anyway, I never killed just a peasant - I had killed the person who tried to kill you, remember? The servant who came from the neighbouring Empire and tried to throw a poisoned dart at you! Now I’m hunted all over the continent and fear for my life every day just because of my heritage! I - I only tried to protect you…” his voice is lowered to a whisper and strangely, he seems shy.

Murin stares at him.

He sighs and then cancels the concealing spell. His face morphs into the handsome face of someone Murin knew so well.

Murin stares at him. She chokes out a sob, and then casts away her staff and throws herself into his arms. “Alma…Alma Diaz Cyril…I hoped it was you, oh God, oh God, I recognised your voice and I hoped it was you all along these weeks… hoped you were still alive…”

He holds her tight and he smiles, patting her back, “Murin, Murin, dear, dear Murin…”