'Are you okay?' Ren's voice carried a note of concern.

After a quick self-assessment, Clada responded, 'I think I'm fine.'

He had anticipated feeling the scorching heat or at least some sensation from the flames, but there was nothing. One moment he was engulfed in blue flames, the next he found himself in an entirely different location.

Lorn's parting words echoed in his mind; 'See you in six months.' All this while, Clada had assumed their departure from the island would be a conventional one, perhaps by boat. But the concept of teleportation hadn't even crossed his mind.

Had the twins experienced this just a day prior, they would've been utterly astounded. But given the recent turn of events, they were beginning to become numb to the once-unthinkable.

Lamenting the hasty departure, Clada thought, He didn’t even give me a chance to pack anything. Disappointed that they hadn’t traveled with Lorn, the twins redirected their attention to the new environment.

They found themselves in a stark, cold chamber. Greyish stone composed the walls, floor, and ceiling. In the corners, unlit torches sat waiting for a spark.

The room carried a musty, moldy scent, and spider webs draped from the ceiling, suggesting long periods of neglect.

There were no windows, and the door stood shut. Yet, a soft blue glow suffused the room, providing just enough illumination.

Glancing down, the twins identified the light's origin. They stood on a platform etched with web-like patterns that radiated in random directions. Each line shimmered with a blue hue reminiscent of the fire that had transported them here.

Taking a step off the platform, Clada moved towards the door. But as he did, an unexpected voice sounded from behind him.

"To think Master Lorn would expend one of his emergency routes for someone like you," a voice remarked, its rough yet velvety tones unmistakably feminine and tinged with disdain.

Someone like me, is it? Clada mused internally. He turned deliberately to face the speaker. Sitting cross-legged, a woman appeared before him, seemingly in her mid-twenties. Her features were sharp, complemented by vivid golden eyes. Her neck-length brown hair framed her face, while her dark ensemble concealed much of her skin. Still, the outfit couldn't obscure her striking silhouette.

The thick, dark clothing suggested durability, possibly able to withstand some blows. Resting by her side were two neatly sheathed short swords, arranged in a precise manner.

Compared to the poised woman, Clada might as well have been mistaken for a vagabond. His unkempt black hair stood as if it had waged wars against brushes and emerged undefeated. Sun and dirt had darkened his skin, while his clothing, fashioned from animal hides, bore tatters and signs of wear. At first glance, he didn't leave a favorable impression.

Yet, Clada's dark green eyes studied the woman intently, his expression remaining impassive, offering no reaction to her words.

Seeing no response, the woman's brows knitted in mild irritation. "I heard you can't converse in any of the common tongues of our continent and are fluent only in Echoloch," she said, giving him a once-over. "I suppose I misheard and you are simply mute?"

Clada held her gaze steadily, causing a mix of discomfort and irritation to creep into the woman's demeanor. Just as she was poised to break the silence, Clada remarked, “I simply didn't find it worth responding to.”

His words heightened her annoyance, but she reined in her emotions. Shaking her head, she thought, I don't have the time to squabble with a retard right now.

Exhaling audibly, she rose, signaling with her hand for Clada to follow. As she approached and opened the door, revealing a corridor reminiscent of the room they were in, she noticed Clada hadn't budged. Glancing over her shoulder, she said with a hint of impatience, “I said, follow me!”

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As Clada fell into step with her brisk pace, she began, “Master Lorn instructed me to assist you in settling here and to provide whatever you might need. However, we both know that you're no child in need of coddling," she remarked, casting him a mocking glance. "You are free to go anywhere in this mansion. I'll guide you to your room. if you need anything, ask the servants. They've been informed about your arrival."

Unable to contain his excitement, Ren mentally nudged Clada, 'Ask her when we can explore the outside!'

Seizing the opportunity, Clada inquired, “Am I permitted to leave the mansion? I'd like to wash up at a nearby river.”

She shot him a 'took you long enough to realize' glance before saying, "You don't need to venture outside for a shower, food, or anything else. If you require something, simply ask a servant. And if you do decide to go out, ensure you're accompanied. I'm not at liberty to chase after you if you get lost."

The rest of their journey was marked by silence. They walked through numerous twists and turns, passing many rooms, until she abruptly stopped in front of a nondescript door. To Clada's surprise, instead of leading to another room, the door revealed a narrow staircase heading upwards. She ascended, with Clada closely following. At the top, a wooden door with a handle awaited. Instead of turning the handle, she simply pushed the door to the side.

A gust of wind greeted them, playfully tousling their hair as they entered. Before them stood towering shelves, each brimming with books of varying sizes and shapes, from thick tomes to slender volumes.

With its tall ceilings and limited windows allowing only slivers of sunlight, the room had a dim, almost mystical atmosphere. The sheer volume of books was staggering, and Clada struggled to fathom the vastness of the collection before him.

Without pausing for Clada's amazement to subside, the woman continued her stride, strolling through the labyrinth of shelves toward a door on the opposite end of the room.

As they neared the door, Clada's attention was drawn to a desk positioned beside it. Seated there was a diminutive, elderly man with kind, gentle features. A monocle perched on his right eye, magnifying its wrinkled brown depths. Snow-white hair crowned his head, and he donned immaculate black robes adorned with various gems.

Clada's mind immediately flashed to the gem-laden robes of Liora's group, prompting him to wonder if the stones served a similar function.

But gems weren't the only embellishments this man wore; three distinct rings adorned his fingers, and he sported a bracelet on his wrist. To the twins, these ornaments didn't seem out of place or peculiar.

The woman advanced towards the elderly figure, greeting him warmly, "Old Blim, I've returned."

Blim shifted his gaze between the two, then, bowing slightly to the woman, remarked, “Ah, welcome back, Miss Ophelia. I take it this young man is the one you spoke of?” He gestured courteously towards Clada.

Ophelia nodded in affirmation, “Indeed. Master Lorn sees potential in him and has chosen to extend his support. However, as you're aware, I'm in the midst of crafting my soul spell and time isn't a luxury I possess. I'd be truly grateful if you could assist him in my stead.” There was a hint of entreaty in her voice.

Old Blim paused, eyes closed in contemplation, before responding, “I'll do my best to assist him, but remember the primary responsibilities I hold here.”

“Thank you, Old Blim,” Ophelia replied, her face breaking into a relieved smile.

Blim turned his attention to Clada, who stood off to the side, clearly feeling out of place and not comprehending a word of their exchange.

With a courteous bow, Blim greeted, “Welcome to our humble abode, sir. How may I address you?”

Still not grasping the words, Clada instinctively mirrored Blim's gesture, bowing in return. This elicited a faint smile from the elderly man, suggesting approval of Clada's respectful mannerisms.

The two remained in a momentary stand-off of expectant silence until Ophelia suddenly recalled that Clada wasn't versed in the Reil language.

She quickly interjected, “I forgot to mention, the young man only speaks Echoloch.”

Blim looked momentarily surprised, but didn't delve further. From his demeanor towards Clada, it was clear that Blim wasn't one to judge based on appearances.

Switching effortlessly to Echoloch, Blim reiterated his question.

With understanding clear on his face, Clada replied, “My name is Clada. And yours?”

After hearing Lorn's insights on twin souls, the twins had resolved to keep their unique nature under wraps unless absolutely necessary. Thus, on this occasion, Clada introduced only himself.

“I am Blim, Sir Clada. You're welcome to address me as you see fit. If you require anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me directly. The servants, unfortunately, don’t speak Echoloch. While they might not understand you verbally, they are reliable for mundane tasks.”

Before Clada could respond, Ophelia interjected in Echoloch, ensuring Clada could understand, “I must return to continue gathering Nexa. Old Blim, I entrust him to you.”

Blim offered her a respectful bow as she departed the way they had come.

“Now, if you would, please follow me,” Blim prompted.