Orin returned from his training with Hvarj, his body weary but his spirit invigorated by the day’s revelations. As he entered his room, he found Lysandra and Tio waiting for him, their faces etched with worry. "Orin, we need to talk," Lysandra said, her voice trembling slightly. "We found something in the library. Morgana cursed the royal bloodline, she was trying to get her Water magic back, but every attempt was unsuccessful, fueled with anger and despair, she cursed the royal family. One of the descendants would destroy the Elves leading them to dark times. We don’t know if the curse it’s real, but if so it’s dangerous. We need to leave this place. It's not safe.” Tio nodded in agreement, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a sense of urgency. "Lysandra's right. The curse foretells betrayal from within. We can’t risk staying here any longer.” Orin, sensing their fear, took a deep breath and tried to calm them down. "A curse can always be broken," he said, his voice steady. "But my training is far from complete. If I leave now, I might never gain the mastery we need to defeat Eileen and her coven. We need more time.”

Despite Orin’s reassurances, the night was restless. The shadows of Morgana’s curse loomed over them, casting a pall of unease. They went to sleep, each of them lost in their own thoughts and worries about what the future might hold. The following morning, Orin met Hvarj at a small lake outside the Great Palace garden. The air was crisp and the sun's rays danced on the water’s surface, creating a serene backdrop for what was to come. Hvarj’s face was stern but kind as he addressed Orin. “The Syren's Whisper you heard is a rare sign of greatness,” Hvarj began. “Today, we will test your powers further. I want you to separate the water of this lake, creating a path through it.” Orin looked at the expansive lake, feeling a pang of uncertainty. He didn’t know where to start. Sensing his hesitation, Hvarj placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Listen to the water’s voice,” he instructed. “Feel its flow and let it guide you.” Orin closed his eyes, blocking out all distractions. He focused intently, reaching out with his senses until he could hear the faint, melodic voice of the water. Opening his arms and hands with his palms up, he felt a rush of energy as the water responded to his call. Instead of creating a path, however, the water surged toward him, flowing into his body in a torrent. Hvarj watched in astonishment as Orin drained the lake, absorbing all its water. The power coursing through Orin was immense, and Hvarj could see the strain it placed on him. Suddenly, a massive wave of water exploded from Orin’s hands, refilling the small piece of land and recreating the lake. Orin staggered back, shock and confusion evident on his face. “What just happened?” he asked, breathless. Hvarj approached him, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and concern. “Your connection with water is very powerful but unstable,” he explained. “You didn’t just listen to the water; you became one with it. This shows immense potential, but also great danger.” Orin felt a pang of embarrassment. He had wanted to protect his friends and himself, but his lack of control had made him feel vulnerable.

He looked at Hvarj, his resolve hardening. “I need to learn to control this. I need to protect my friends.It’s time to be honest, Hvarj. I am a direct descendant of Merlin and Viviane’s bloodline. I know I can trust you.” Hvarj’s expression softened. “I sensed the magic of Merlin and Viviane within you, Merlin was my mentor, he was a noble soul, Viviane, indeed, was a grateful Water magic master,” he said gently. “I am here to help you and your secrets are safe with me.” Orin felt relieved, he needed Hvarj’s trust and help. Hvarj continued “To control water, you must understand its flow. This requires a combination of your time-bending abilities and your water magic. Focus on the movements, not just the voice.” Orin nodded, determination shining in his eyes. He extended his hands towards the lake, concentrating on the water’s movements rather than only on its voice. Blue threads of energy emerged from his fingertips, weaving their way into the water. He felt the threads infiltrate the water’s depths, becoming part of its very essence. Raising his hands, Orin willed the threads to form a web, containing the water on each side. As he moved his hands, the water obeyed, separating to create a walkable path through the lake. The feat required intense concentration, but Orin managed to hold it, his heart pounding with the thrill of his achievement. Hvarj watched with pride. “You’ve done it, Orin. You’ve learned to control the flow. This is a significant step in your training.” As the path remained open, Orin felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He had begun to master the water’s flow, understanding its rhythms and movements. This newfound control would be crucial in the battles to come.

Meanwhile, Lysandra and Tio were back in the palace library, poring over ancient texts. They were determined to find any information that could help them understand the curse and find a way to break it. They knew that time was of the essence, and every moment spent in the Elves' realm brought them closer to potential danger. Lysandra and Tio were back in the palace library, their faces a mix of frustration and determination. Hours of poring over ancient texts had yielded no new information about Morgana's curse. The weight of their mission bore heavily on their shoulders, knowing that every moment spent in the Elves' realm brought them closer to potential danger. As they sat at a large pine table surrounded by towering stacks of books, the door to the library creaked open. Prince Huter, a tall, slender Elf with an air of quiet intelligence, stepped inside. He had always found solace among the dusty tomes and forgotten histories of his people. The pressure from his mother, Queen Duhilen, to follow the path of his ancestors and prepare for kingship suffocated him. The library, with its endless corridors of knowledge, was his refuge. Huter's eyes lit up with curiosity as he spotted Tio and Lysandra amidst the sea of books. He approached them, his steps silent on the polished ice floor. “Good evening,” he greeted them, his voice soft yet filled with genuine interest. “May I ask what you are researching?” Lysandra looked up, her guard immediately up. She was wary of involving the Elves any more than necessary, especially the prince. But Tio, sensing an opportunity, was more open to the idea. He knew that Huter’s knowledge of the library could be invaluable.

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Tio decided to play fairly, and asked, “Do you have any reports or books about Merlin's visit? We're trying to understand how the Elves became the keepers of water magic.” Huter’s face brightened. “Yes, I know exactly what you’re looking for. Merlin visited our realm many times.” Huter began, his voice filled with the excitement of sharing a story he loved. He told them about Merlin and Viviane's relationships with the druids, with Hvarj, and the royal family. He recounted the stories about the day Merlin came and chose them as the Keepers of Water magic, detailing the ceremony and the Elves’ initial struggle to master the powerful element. The young prince’s enthusiasm was palpable, his words painting vivid pictures of ancient ceremonies and long-lost traditions. Huter's excitement decreased, and he began to whisper. “But Morgana also came here when the Elves' druids were still ruling the city. There are also reports and books about Morgana’s visit. She came to the druids, asking them to get back her Water magic. They tried to help her, but her attempts failed every time. The power was lost, but not her ability to use spells to control water.” He continued, “Okilj, the supreme druid, told her that she wouldn't be able to get her power back; it was gone forever. Morgana, fueled with hate and revenge, started fighting the druids, killing one after the other only Okilj survived. It was that day that Okilj chose my great-great-grandfather as king of our kingdom. Before she left, Morgana cursed my family, proclaiming that one day one of their descendants would destroy this paradisiac place.”

Huter confessed, his voice trembling slightly, “I’ve always worried about that curse. Given my disinterest in politics and royalty, I’ve feared that I might be the one to bring about the destruction.” Tio reached out, placing a comforting hand on Huter’s shoulder. “You have a pure heart, Huter. I can sense it. You won't be the one to destroy this place. Indeed, you can help us prevent it.” Lysandra noticed the budding connection between the prince and Tio. She, too, believed in Huter’s purity of heart and felt confident he would help them. “Huter,” she said gently, “we need those ancient books. Do you think you could help us access them?” Huter hesitated. “The most ancient and powerful books are kept in the attic, and only those with royal permission can go there. But I can gather the information you need and bring it to you.” The three of them devised a plan. Huter would retrieve the books and bring them to a safe place where they could study them without arousing suspicion. Meanwhile, Lysandra and Tio would continue their research in the library, maintaining the appearance of scholars delving into the history of water magic.

That night, under the cover of darkness, Huter made his way to the attic. The palace was quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. He carefully navigated the winding corridors and climbed the steep staircase that led to the attic. The door was heavy and creaked as he pushed it open, revealing rows of ancient tomes and scrolls. Huter moved with practiced ease, his fingers brushing over the spines of books that had not been touched in centuries. He selected the texts he knew would be most useful: detailed accounts of Merlin’s visits, descriptions of the rituals performed by the druids, and records of Morgana’s curse. With the books safely tucked under his arm, Huter made his way to Tio’s room, where Lysandra and Tio were waiting. He placed the volumes on the table, his eyes shining with excitement and a hint of apprehension. “These should contain everything you need,” Huter said. “But we must be careful. If anyone finds out we’re studying these texts, it could be dangerous.” Tio and Lysandra nodded, their gratitude evident. “Thank you, Huter,” Lysandra said softly. “We’ll be careful.” For the next several hours, the three of them poured over the ancient texts, their minds racing to piece together the information they needed. They discovered detailed accounts of Merlin’s interactions with the druids and the Elves, descriptions of the powerful spells and rituals used to bind the Water magic to the Elves, and, most importantly, intricate details about Morgana’s curse. Lysandra read aloud from one of the books, her voice filled with tension. “Morgana’s curse is tied to the bloodline of the royal family. It’s designed to awaken under certain conditions, specifically a time of peace and prosperity. The curse will find the weakest link in the chain, the one most susceptible to the lure of power.” Tio frowned. “So it could be anyone in the royal family, not just Huter.” Huter nodded, his expression grim. “Yes, it could be anyone. That’s why it’s so dangerous. But now that we know how it works, we might be able to find a way to break it.”