She smiled softly, a hint of sadness in her expression and said "Those chains are you. But you won't understand, no matter how I try to explain." She couldn't teach him how human-bound relationships worked, how when two people spend enough time together, an invisible connection forms, a bond that binds them. Over time, they start to absorb each other: shared habits, comfort zones, desires, even the same way of thinking.
Theo didn't understand why Emil wanted to go to Zul'vharra when he could at least survive in the slums. Every day, he kept trying to convince him with his words to stay, to save his limbs, to avoid the risks. But Emil rejected his thoughts, his desires pulling him elsewhere. He couldn't live like this, not when he saw others at the Athergate station in luxurious clothes, eating foods he could only dream of. His heart longed for those things. Slowly, piece by piece, Emil started collecting those dreams in pictures, pinning them up in his small, broken home, his shack.
Emil had a path laid out before him, one he believed in, one that called to him. But Theo? He just wanted to stay in his circle, within his comfort, protecting his limbs, never questioning himself. Why? Because asking that "why" would shatter the illusions in his mind, illusions he believed were more beneficial than the truth.
Theo sank into thought as the words echoing in his mind. "A chain for Emil?
Why would I become that? He's my friend… I'd never want to hold him back."
The lady turned to the young girl beside her and said, "Prepare the luggage we should moved now"
The girl gave a respectful nod. "Yes, my lady," she replied, gliding toward the cabinet.
Theo, still adrift in the haze of his own thoughts, felt a knot of confusion tighten in his chest. He opened his mouth, then closed it. "Chains? Obstacles?... what did she mean by that?" He didn't understand but if Emil needed him, he'd try. "What can I do to help him instead?"
She looked at him with calm certainty and replied "Instead of becoming his obstacle, become his source of power. Whatever his dreams are, don't reject them, support them. It's that simple."
Theo nodded slowly, the weight of her words settling into him like a subtle revelation.
Then she turned to the young girl beside her. "We should move now."
As the girl stepped forward, Theo's gaze lingered on her. A sudden thought struck him, sharp and overdue.
"You've helped us so much," he said, his voice laced with gratitude and confusion. "But… who are you? Why are you doing this? We don't have anything to offer, not even money."
"Do you really think my lady needs your money, boy?" The young girl scoffed, adjusting her grip on the suitcase.
The Veiled Lady shot her a cold, calculating look that demanded obedience, then turned away, shifting her stance with effortless grace.
"We've already paid this week's rent," she said. "Stay here. Rest, if you need to.
As for me, if you want answers, follow Emil. Maybe fate will let our paths cross again. And if not…"
She glanced back over her shoulder, a faint smile ghosting her lips. "Just think of me as a dream. I've given him a gift. From this moment on, both your lives will begin to change."
Without another word, the two women left the room. The younger girl carried a worn leather suitcase she'd quietly retrieved from the cabinet.
Theo stared at the door long after it closed, the woman's words hanging in the air like a fading illusion. He could only stare at their retreating figures, still dazed. The whole thing felt unreal like he'd stepped into someone else's story. He didn't yet know there were things in this world that could heal not just wounds, but pain itself and do it so fast, it felt like magic to him.
As the two stepped out of the house, the young girl opened an umbrella to shield them from the rain."My lady," she asked softly, "did you see something in them? You usually don't speak that much to strangers."
The lady tilted her straw hat slightly, glancing back toward the window where the two boys rested."Yes," she murmured. "There's something different about them. Especially Emil."
She said nothing more, and whatever she saw in those boys remained unspoken. The moment faded as the two figures vanished into the rain-soaked alley, leaving only questions behind.
She was no ordinary woman, an Order 4 Echo, a powerhouse unbound by the constraints of law. If she chose to help someone, no one could stand in her way. And yet, the real mystery wasn't just her actions it was her presence. A woman of her stature, walking the lower districts instead of residing in the upper districts? That alone defied reason.
****
Darkness blanketed the city, not from nightfall, but from the thick storm clouds gathering overhead. Rain poured down on the streets of Wanehall Market, turning the cobbled roads slick and shimmering. People hurried in and out of shops, clutching cloaks and hoods, rushing toward carriages to shield themselves from getting soaked.
But one figure walked the streets unbothered, his boots splashed heavily in the puddles, letting the rain drench him completely.
Levi.
His brown hair had turned nearly black, matted by the downpour. Water streamed down his clothes, but he didn't care. He moved slowly, calmly, almost savoring the moment.
He never wasted a moment like this.
When you've seen death waiting around every corner when you know you'll be stepping into a life-and-death battle against Echo organizations and the dark forces that rise with the Domain's opening, these quiet moments with nature become sacred.
Who knows if you'll even be alive in the next?
He wandered slowly in front of a shop, pausing to study it for a moment before moving to the next. The rain poured down, but the market was still alive, people haggling over potions, enchantments, and elixirs. The world around him was bustling, oblivious to the storm.
"Echoes are already preparing for the Domain fights," He thought, his gaze drifting over the busy crowd. "And here I am, without a single Echo memory to my name. At this rate, I'll be nothing more than a spectator, watching the shattered veil of the Domain fall into their hands."
A sharp breath escaped him. "Before I can even think of protecting the Domain, I need to sharpen my skills. I'll have to practice in the arenas, control my aura with more precision. And maybe… just maybe, I'll find a worthy Echo memory from one of the challengers."
With deliberate slowness, he stepped toward the carriage, his boots splashing against the rain-slicked cobblestones.
Before long, Veylan and Dorian emerged from the shadowed street, their cloaks damp from the downpour. Veylan bowed slightly, his voice cutting through the drumming rain. "Young Master, the contact has been made. Shall we return to the estate?"
"No," came the reply, sharp and decisive. "Head to the arenas."
The carriage lurched forward, its iron-rimmed wheels groaning against the wet stone, the sound blending with the relentless patter of rain. Inside, Dorian sat across from him, wiping the droplets from his spectacles. His face was drawn tight with unease.
He studied him for a moment before speaking, his voice laced with dark amusement. "Worried about the two thousand Solari you lost to Lysander?"
Dorain adjusted his glasses with a sigh. "Yes, two hundred solari is too much. I don't understand how I'm agreed on that sum, I can't possibly earn that kind of money." His worry was justified. Fifty solari could sustain a commoner family in leisure for a year. Even most noble kids barely saw five solari in monthly allowance. If he failed to pay, the humiliation would be twofold: defaulting on the bet and forfeiting the arena fight, branding him incompetent. The weight of his predicament pressed down on him.
Then, Levi's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Do you want to earn that money?"
Dorain's eyes flickered with hesitation before sharpening, his earlier distress vanishing beneath a surge of anticipation. "Yes," he replied eagerly, fingers tightening in his lap. "Can you do it? If we can secure that much money, I'll make Lysander regret ever looking down on me."
Levi's response was calm. "Don't celebrate yet. There's a condition you must lose to Lysander in the arena."
Dorain stiffened. "Lose? What's the point of earning the money if I'm just going to surrender?"
Levi added with a half smile. "Then forget it. Earn the solari yourself."
"You..."Dorain's jaw clenched, indignation flaring but he swallowed his retort. Levi was a sovereign, not someone to challenge lightly. And the truth was undeniable: he couldn't amass such wealth in time. Lysander could demand the duel any day, and even Levi couldn't freely withdraw funds from House Veylmont, not without scrutiny.
After a tense silence, Dorain exhaled. "At least give me a reason. Why throw the fight?"
Levi remained still, eyes fixed on the rain-streaked window, his expression hard to read.
Dorain's frustration boiled over. "You know I'm in this mess because of you. You pushed me to try something new, something my family never dared. And now you stand there, indifferent?"
Levi's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "Ah, Dorian, you still don't see it, do you? we live among the elite, the top nobel families. Everything we do must be precise, calculated... for profit. In your mind, power is measured by the aura you project in the arena, the strength you flaunt in front of others beating your enemies, proving you're the strongest. But let me tell you, that's not true power.
True power lies in control. Control over those around you. Imagine the people in your life, your enemies, your allies dancing on the strings of your will. You can make them do your bidding, use them to eliminate rivals, amass wealth, or achieve any goal. That's the real art of influence and power."
Dorian's brow furrowed, a slight doubt creeping into his voice. "But... you're just playing with my mind again, aren't you? Words, always words. Show me first. Show me how to make them dance at my command, and then... I'll consider it."
Levi's smile remained inscrutable, his voice lowering to a whisper of calculated intent. "Well, if that's what you want, then tonight, I'll show you how to manipulate the emotions of others how to play on their greed, their desires and bend them to your will. But first, you'll need to step into a role. A performance. A script I'll write for you."
Dorian's brows knit in confusion. "Performance? What kind of performance?"
Levi's eyes glinted, a spark of mischief lighting up his gaze. "A performance that will make the audience believe what you want them to believe. Trust me by the time we reach the arena, you'll understand. I'll teach you how to become a master performer. For now, just watch and follow my lead. Stick to the script I give you, and I'll ensure you play your part flawlessly."