Iris exited Clandestine Feather Bar, her maid intimately following her. She handed a glowing gemstone to the waitress guiding her from the beginning. The waitress gratefully accepted the reward while profusely praising her benefactor.

After giving her business card to the waitress, who too gave her name card to her patron, Iris sauntered out of the crowded street. Lantern-lit walkways housed sparse groups of men and women hurrying to their objectives, some returning homes, others starting their night work, and even more indulging in their blissful holiday.

These people entered Iris’s eyes and left as swiftly as they appeared. They unconsciously kept their distance from her, the lady of unapproachable temperament. Her maid, in her neatly arranged uniform, glared at all who dared to peep at her mistress’s veil.

“You’re frightening them, Antina,” Iris said. “Their curiosity won’t soil your mistress.”

“Their thoughts leak out of their eyes. I hate that.”

“Minding the insignificant will only stress your lovely heart.”

“No matter of yours is insignificant, Mistress.”

“It is when compared to you.”

Antina was about to raise more counterpoints when her eyes jumped to an inconspicuous figure peeking out of a corner of a storefront building. The unknown girl, whose face was hidden under a hood, looked around the jewellery display. Despite constantly examining crystal necklaces, she always had Iris at the corner of her determined eyes.

“How was the bar?” Iris said. “Have you ever indulged in such a vivacious place before?”

“Mother’s been to all.”

“But you’ve been to none.”

“I’ve always followed her, no matter where, no matter when.”

“And now was your first lonesome.”

“I was with you—”

“A part of you was.” Iris turned to her maid. “I hope the other parts went elsewhere.”

“Your maid is ashamed.”

“My maid is lovely.”

Iris steadily sauntered about the crowds until a carriage obstructed her path. She turned to face the hooded girl who emerged from the store.

Xiaotan took a nervous deep breath as she drew back her cloak. Her bright blue eyes twinkled, the faint glow of mystique fading in and out. She raised her head, looked apologetically at the maid behind Iris, and rested her right hand on her chest. Her short black hair fluttered as a strong gale passed her, chilling words in her throat.

“I’m sorry, Lady Iris. I didn’t want our meeting to be this sudden, but I have no choice.”

“A problem of urgency?” Iris smiled.

“Could you spare me a bit of your time?”

“The current mood is perfect for a serene chat.”

“But the current place is not so.” Xiaotan looked down at her feet. Her heart clenched. She couldn’t find the exact explanation. “Will you follow me?”

“She won’t,” Antina said. “Delighted to me you, Miss. I’m Antina, Lady Iris’s maid.”

Xiaotan peeked at Iris, who maintained her amused expression. “Xiaotan Revelor. My questions are sensitive. I . . . don’t want to cause any misunderstanding.”

“You misunderstood me. I’ll take you to an outdoor café. A fruitful discussion requires a fanciful setting.”

Following Iris and her maid, Xiaotan cut through the lessening crowd out of the street of jewellery and into a street of picturesque views, of bakeries and candy shops. Despite the setting sun dyeing the sky in a dim purple tone, the lanterns hanging on the poles warmed the atmosphere with yellow radiance.

This wavering light led Xiaotan to a café decorated like an antique building, with artificial cracks and carefully grown vines coating the walls. Sitting atop the street slope, the store overlooked the dusk landscape, of workers returning home, of birds fleeing darkness, and of buildings lighting up in waves.

Her eyes glazed over the faraway people. Their silhouettes melded into one, their differences made insignificant. She snapped back only when a waitress came to take orders.

After taking the order, the waitress respectfully left the table. As she walked away, her silhouette momentarily distorted; the sounds of her footsteps vanished, leaving only contemplative silence.

Xiaotan narrowed her eyes and turned to her mentor.

“Will I ever be as good as you?” she said.

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“Did you notice anything?”

“The air appears quite different.”

“Is my perfume that lovely?”

Xiaotan blushed. Iris chuckled.

“Which side of me do you want to know?” Iris said. “At what length will you go?”

“As far as you allow, Lady Iris.”

“You trust me that much?”

“Without you, I wouldn’t have the chance to step into this side of the world.”

“It’s you who grabbed the opportunity.”

“And it’s you who presented it.” Xiaotan lowered her head. “You showed me the door, guided me through it, and lifted me up until I could fly by myself.”

Iris shook her head. Her silhouette shivered as if she were trembling. “You can be too stubborn at times.”

“I learned a lot from you.”

The waitress returned with the order. While savouring her colourful bubbly drink, Iris looked outwards. The sprawling cityscape merged into an ocean of shadowy tides, rising and falling according to the shifting clouds that blocked the setting dusk light.

“Clouds give beautiful shades to sunlight. Aren’t mysteries what make life so charming?”

The crowds passing by the café failed to distract Xiaotan. Compared to her Iris’s unreadable air, their muffled monotony registered not in her sight. She focused solely on her mentor’s every word, every gesture, every hint.

“Life can only be more charming when experienced in full,” Xiaotan said.

“I’ll be waiting.”

“On the Holy Resurgence Day . . . where were you, Lady Iris?”

“Where should I be?”

Xiaotan held her cup of hot chocolate in front of her nose. The cocoa’s dark aroma sparked her brain; she examined her mentor with her eyes half-closed. Her mentor carefreely leaned on her chair.

“Your method has benefitted me too much.” Xiaotan raised her right index finger. Soft glows emanating from her fingertip traced her ever-shifting movement. “Despite giving my all, I’ve yet to complete your assignment. But I’ve realised something.”

Iris snapped her fingers. Antina beamed at Xiaotan before reaching for her mistress's hand, which lay still on the soft tablecloth. Mystical flashes appeared in her eyes, dazzling Xiaotan, then vanished as if its existence were only for Iris’s diligent pupil.

“You are . . .” Xiaotan’s voice faltered.

“She’s precious,” Iris said. “A capable maid who understands her mistress.”

“Please don’t misjudge me; I . . . have no ill intention.”

“Patience is her virtue, subtlety her forte.”

Iris fed a piece of her cheesecake to her maid, who calmly nibbled on the spoon as the sugary flavour melted inside her mouth.

Taking a drawn-out breath, Xiaotan clenched her fists.

“Every time I allow my instinct to guide me, my emotions flare up. It felt as if the veil had been lifted. It startled me; my heart poured out feelings I never thought I could have.”

“Were you afraid?”

Xiaotan rigidly shook her head, but she then reticently nodded. “In the mirror, I saw someone unfamiliar, someone resolute. I saw another me whom I am not.”

“Yet you’re so confident in your assessment.”

“It’s not the same!” Xiaotan straightened her back. Her lively voice surprised her. “I would never flash those eyes, would never reveal those desires. Losing control . . . feels too wrong.”

“Is it you who lose control, or is it the world?”

“The world hasn’t changed.”

“You haven’t changed either.”

Thoughts bubbled in Xiaotan’s heart, but they dispersed as swiftly as they formed; she found no rebuttal, no excuse. Her gaze danced around her mentor, ever evading that pair of ambiguous eyes.

“Multiple Secret Organisations took advantage of the chaos during the Holy Resurgence Ceremony.” A hesitant pause. “The Court of Indulgence invaded Royal Magic Academy to free their captive kinds. They . . . also took a few innocent students.”

“Do you believe them evil?”

“I only believe my eyes.”

“What about me?”

Iris’s calm tone, with its subtle fluctuation, its mischievous tremor, discomforted Xiaotan. She suppressed her desire to announce her trust; her intuition soundlessly whispered warnings she couldn’t and wouldn’t hear.

“You’re thoughtful, gentle, and caring.”

“Are those words from your heart, or are they from your mind?”

“Lady Iris, you aren’t . . . evil.”

A playful giggle echoed within the isolation field. Vibrant green vines cast their leaves around Iris. They obscured her silhouette, shielding her as if she were their most precious treasure. Yet her smile pierced through their shades and imprinted itself into Xiaotan’s retinae.

As Xiaotan was about to express her confusion, Iris revealed a deck of handmade cards, whose golden rims shimmered against the soft, flickering candlelight. Each card slipped out of her hand and hovered face-down above the table.

“Whisper me your doubts.” Iris tapped the cards. The engraved lines on the back of the floating cards shone. “Behind them are potential answers. Are you prepared?”

Xiaotan blinked. Her heart raced. Her intuition receded into the back of her mind, but the answer had already revealed itself. She futilely held her breath.

Her movement couldn’t elude her mentor, but she received no playful remarks.

A contemplative silence reigned.

“Why . . . did you show me this?” Her voice quivered.

“Because I like you.” Iris coyly tilted her head. Her hair waved in front of her gleaming eyes. “Your eyes are precious. Don’t you think so?”

Arcane lines manifested in Xiaotan’s eyes as her faded memory resurfaced. Her mother’s voice, too indistinct to recall, spoke words she couldn’t understand. Those important secrets, she wished to grasp them.

A series of cards laid before her. Her mentor leaned on her chair, nibbled on her cheesecake, and conversed with her maid as if paying no attention to her pupil’s dilemma.

“Lady Iris, I trust you.”

Xiaotan chose the card closest to her. A phantom spark shocked her approaching fingers. She drew back in shock, her intuition flaring up. Her chest constricted her lungs, which struggled to fill her body with clarity and comfort.

Iris, frowning, rose from her seat and seized her disciple’s hand. Pale, deathly energy coursed beneath Xiaotan’s fair skin, nullifying all attempts to pry deeper.

A vague outline of a skull, shrouded in purple mist, towered behind Xiaotan. Its hollow eye sockets beckoned all. Iris stared into the abyss. The intense darkness bared its fangs.

Iris gave a bright smile and tapped her student’s palm. Bluish light penetrated the skin and interweaved with the pale energy.

The suffocation lessened, and Xiaotan regained her composure. The ticklish sensation of getting her palm gently stroked by her beautiful mentor reminded her of their inappropriate mood, of their suggestive gesture.

“The opportunity is fleeting,” Iris said. “Do you trust me?”

Iris’s crystalised voice dissolved all that plagued Xiaotan. Her intuition, her knowledge, her rationale, they deafened in her ears, overwhelmed by this unstoppable urge to follow through with her yearning.

She seized herself and closed her eyes, suppressing her survival instinct.

The blue glow pervaded her veins. Her sensitivity amplified into a sharp pain. She gritted her teeth and endured, assured by the tender strokes on her naked palms.

Amidst the darkness, a sea of fog spewed forth. Standing in solitary was a vague figure, a lady whose haze-covered face gave Xiaotan security. Engulfed in a serene yet exhausted air, the lady drew apart her arms while smiling at Xiaotan, her beloved daughter.