Arlon lowered his hands and let the magic dissolve around his fingertips. His eyes met Zephyrion's, calm but unyielding.
"It's me," he said simply. "I'm Arlon. And she's June."
June stepped forward beside him, still quiet but standing tall. Her presence alone added weight to his words.
Zephyrion didn't move at first. His eyes flicked between them, searching for signs—subtle tells, cracks in the illusion, a mistake only the real Arlon might avoid.
But there was none.
The fact that he wasn't attacking was already proof that he wasn't here to attack.
Otherwise, he could have killed Zephyrion together with the others here easily.
Zephyrion could feel the power inside him.
But he still wanted to be sure.
So, he used the most basic test anyone could think of. He asked what they had talked about last.
Arlon answered with ease since he remembered.
The pressure faded from the air.
"…You've changed," Zephyrion finally said, voice lower now, no longer aggressive.
