Chapter 77: Talking To Iridelle

The sun hung low in the sky, its warm golden light spilling over the rooftops of Rakhshan as the hum of the town softened into the serenity of evening. Inside Natasha’s workshop, the glow of enchanted lanterns bathed the room in a soft, otherworldly light. The scent of metal and magic lingered in the air, blending with the faint floral notes that wafted in through the open windows. Alaric leaned against a cluttered workbench, his fingers absently drumming against the polished wood as he studied the necklace before him.

“You know,” Alaric began, his voice carrying an edge of curiosity, “I think I might have an idea for stabilizing your necklace. It’s a bit unconventional, but it could work.”

Natasha’s brows lifted, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she turned to him. Her crimson hair fell in loose waves over her shoulder, and the faint smudge of soot on her cheek only added to her charm. “Oh? Don’t keep me waiting, Alaric. Spill it.”

Alaric smirked, enjoying her enthusiasm. He reached for the necklace, the cool metal smooth against his fingers. “The problem lies in how the enchantment draws power. It’s too dependent on a single source, which creates instability in the spell matrix. What if we used a dual-source enchantment instead? One source could provide stability, while the other amplifies the magic’s strength.”

Natasha’s mouth parted slightly, her expression shifting to one of pure admiration. “Dual-source enchantment… That’s brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that? Balancing the energy could solve the fluctuation issue.” She leaned closer, her excitement infectious. “But what kind of secondary power source are you thinking? A gem? A talisman?”

Alaric nodded. “A gem would be ideal. Something small but potent—enough to act as a stabilizer without overwhelming the primary source. If we channel your own magical energy through the primary enchantment and use the gem as a buffer, it might just work.”

Natasha clapped her hands together, her voice bubbling with excitement. “I love it. Let’s give it a try!”

For the next several hours, the two of them immersed themselves in the intricate process of reworking the enchantment. Natasha’s nimble fingers deftly adjusted the necklace’s design, incorporating a flawless sapphire that shimmered with latent energy. Alaric watched her work, occasionally offering suggestions or steadying her hand when precision was paramount.

“I’ve missed this,” Natasha confessed after a while, her voice soft but warm. She glanced at him, her crimson eyes meeting his. “Working together like this. It reminds me of the academy—late nights in the workshop, you always coming up with ideas that made the rest of us look like amateurs.”

Alaric chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Don’t sell yourself short, Natasha. You always had a knack for turning my half-baked ideas into something extraordinary. It’s why we made such a good team.”

Natasha’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she quickly returned her attention to the necklace. “Stop flattering me and hand me that etching tool.”

Alaric grinned and complied.

The necklace, now re-enchanted, began to emit a steady glow as Natasha whispered the activation words.

The gemstones pulsed with a soft, even light, and the spell hummed with power, stable at last. Natasha’s eyes widened in delight.

“It’s working!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with triumph. She turned to Alaric, her face alight with excitement. “Alaric, we did it! I can’t believe it. The enchantment is perfect.”

Alaric’s smile softened. “It was a team effort. Your craftsmanship is what made this possible, Natasha. I just threw an idea into the mix.”

Before Natasha could respond, the workshop door creaked open, and Iridelle stepped inside.

The elder Khysarel sister’s presence was as graceful as ever, her long blue hair shimmering faintly in the enchanted light.

Her sharp violet eyes widened as they took in the sight of Natasha holding the glowing necklace, her expression shifting from curiosity to admiration.

“Sister, you’re just in time!” Natasha said, practically bouncing on her heels. She held up the necklace with a wide grin. “Alaric helped me fix the enchantment! It’s finally stable!”

Iridelle stepped closer, her gaze lingering on the necklace before moving to Alaric. “Young Master Alaric, I’m impressed. Natasha has spoken highly of your talents, but I didn’t realize your expertise extended so far into the realm of magical artifacts.”

Alaric inclined his head modestly, though he couldn’t miss the note of genuine admiration in her voice. “I’ve always enjoyed a good challenge, Lady Iridelle. Your sister’s work is exceptional—it just needed a little nudge in the right direction. And since I have somewhat good magic control, I could provide her with a different perspective, which was coincidentally what she needed to resolve this.”

Natasha beamed at the praise, her pride evident. “See, Iridelle? I told you Alaric was the best. He’s not just the top student at the Verdant Dawn Academy—he’s the top student in the entire Eloriath Kingdom!”

Iridelle’s lips curved into a soft smile, though there was a flicker of something else—something more somber—in her eyes. “It’s clear you’ve both made great strides tonight. Natasha, I’m proud of you.”

As Alaric watched the sisters, he couldn’t help but notice the subtle differences in Iridelle.

She was as stunning as ever, her appearance nearly flawless, but there was a weariness in her posture, a certain heaviness that hadn’t been there eight years ago.

When his Harem God System flickered to life, confirming his suspicions, he was taken aback.

[Overall Score for Iridelle Khysarel: 23

Appearance: 88

Personality: 67 (9)

Status: 5

Pride: 4

Strength: 9]

It was a stark contrast to the last time he had seen her status. Eight years ago, her overall score had been a mere 17.4.

Back then, her appearance had been rated 83, her personality 56 (7), and her status 7, with pride at 5 and strength at 4.

Now, while her strength, appearance, and personality had improved, her status and pride had plummeted to alarmingly low levels.

Something had happened in those eight years. Something that had stripped her of her pride and reduced her standing.

Alaric’s curiosity burned, but he knew better than to press the matter now—not in front of Natasha. Instead, he tucked the thought away, promising himself he’d uncover the truth later.

Alaric spent the day exploring the lively town of Rakhshan with Natasha, the two of them falling into an easy camaraderie.

Their first stop was a garden Natasha had spoken of fondly, one tied to cherished memories from her childhood.

The garden sprawled with vibrant colors, each row of blossoms seeming to compete for attention under the late afternoon sun.

Natasha’s face lit up as she pointed out her favorite spots—a shaded nook beneath a sprawling willow tree, a small bridge overlooking a crystal-clear stream.

Alaric found himself enchanted, not just by the garden but by the way Natasha’s passion brought it to life.

“It’s even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said as they paused by the stream. The sunlight danced across the water, casting rippling patterns on the bank.

Natasha smiled, her cheeks faintly pink. “I used to come here whenever I felt overwhelmed. There’s a kind of peace here that makes everything feel… manageable.”

They wandered on, their conversation drifting from artifacts to their dreams and the peculiarities of Rakhshan.

Later, they visited the town’s museum, an old yet grand building filled with artifacts that seemed to whisper stories of the past.

Alaric examined ancient tools, enchanted relics, and scrolls with wide-eyed curiosity, asking Natasha questions that she eagerly answered.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the town in hues of orange and gold, they returned to the Khysarel residence. The house welcomed them with the comforting aroma of dinner, and they settled into the cozy dining room.

Laughter and conversation filled the air as they enjoyed a simple yet hearty meal.

Alaric noticed how easily Natasha spoke of her dreams for the future, her optimism seemed infectious.

When the night deepened, the house grew still. Kara had prepared a guest room for Alaric, a snug space with a soft bed piled high with quilts. He could hear the faint murmurs of the others settling into their rooms.

Natasha and Kara shared Natasha’s room, while Evanthe, Elin, Zoey, and Sigrid gathered in Iridelle’s quarters.

Iridelle herself had retired to her workshop, as always, turning it into a makeshift sleeping area surrounded by her tools and unfinished projects.

Alaric lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling as the day’s events swirled in his mind.

The night was serene, bathed in the silvery glow of the moon. As Alaric wandered into the garden, he caught sight of a familiar figure standing still beneath the moonlight.

Iridelle’s silhouette was delicate, her arms wrapped around herself as if warding off the chill. Her gaze was fixed on the sky, her expression heavy with a sadness that tugged at Alaric’s heart.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Alaric’s voice broke the quiet.

Iridelle startled, her head whipping around. When she saw him, her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Young Master Alaric,” she said softly, her surprise evident. “Are you unhappy with your accommodations? I can try to arrange something more comfortable—”

“Not at all,” Alaric interrupted with a reassuring smile. “Everything’s perfect. I just have a habit of staying up late. But I couldn’t help noticing you looked troubled. Care to share what’s on your mind?”

Iridelle hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. “It’s nothing,” she replied, her voice strained. “Just old memories. They have a way of surfacing when the world goes quiet.”

Alaric stepped closer, his tone gentle but firm. “Memories can be heavy, but sometimes sharing them can make them easier to bear. I’m a good listener, Iridelle. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flickering back to him. For a moment, Alaric thought she might turn him away. But then she nodded, her shoulders sagging as if surrendering to an invisible weight. “Alright,” she murmured. “But promise me, Young Master Alaric—you can’t tell Natasha. She doesn’t need to know.”

“You have my word,” he said, his expression serious.

Iridelle took a deep breath, the moonlight catching the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “Nearly a decade ago, my family lived in the Kingdom of Valareth. My father was a renowned artisan, crafting magical weapons for their armies. But as the years passed, he grew disillusioned. The weapons he made weren’t just used against soldiers of other kingdoms—they were turned on innocent people. He couldn’t bear it anymore. So, when the Eloriath Kingdom’s royal family extended an offer of sanctuary, my father seized the chance. We moved here, leaving behind everything we had known.”

Her voice grew quieter, tinged with pain. “At first, things were hopeful. The royal family supported us, and though many nobles were suspicious of our presence, they dared not oppose us openly. But then…”

She paused, swallowing hard. Alaric waited patiently, his chest tightening as she continued. “Nine years ago, assassins came for us. They infiltrated our home and killed everyone—my parents, our guards, our friends. I was just a child, hiding in a secret passage with Natasha, watching as they…” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes tightly.

“They butchered everyone,” she whispered. “And then they set the house on fire. I… I had no choice but to flee, carrying Natasha in my arms. She was just a little child, sound asleep, oblivious to the horror. But escaping wasn’t enough. I had to use a magical artifact to evade the assassins. It drew more energy than my circuits could handle. By the time we were safe, my magic… it was gone. My circuits were broken.”

Alaric’s breath hitched. “Iridelle…”

“I’ve been like this ever since,” she said bitterly. “Without my magic, I can’t create the artifacts my family was known for. All I can make are simple trinkets for common folk, enough to scrape by but not enough to rebuild. Natasha doesn’t know the full truth. She knows my magic circuits are broken, but doesn’t know that they broke while I was escaping with her. If she knows about this, I know that she will blame herself. Moreover, with how things are going on… I’m scared that the Khysarel name will fade into nothing.”

Her voice faltered, the weight of her confession leaving her visibly shaken. Alaric stepped closer, his gaze unwavering as he placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “Iridelle, you’ve been through more than anyone should ever have to endure. But you’re not alone anymore. I can help you.”

She looked up at him, her expression a mix of hope and skepticism. “How? My circuits are broken, Alaric. There’s no fixing that.”

“There might be,” Alaric said with quiet determination. “There are ways to heal magical circuits, though they’re rare. One option is to find an Elder Mage—someone powerful enough to cast a healing spell capable of repairing your circuits.”

Iridelle’s face fell. “Elder Mages are practically mythical, Young master Alaric. The strongest mages in Eloriath are Archmages, and even they can’t do it.”

“I know,” Alaric said, his tone steady. “But there’s another way. There’s a potion—an elixir called Mystic Rejuvenation Elixir. It can heal broken circuits, but it requires rare herbs and a skilled alchemist to make it.”

Iridelle blinked, her eyes widening. “That… that sounds impossible. Even if such an elixir exists, I could never afford it.”

“You won’t have to,” Alaric said firmly. “My family has connections, resources. We can find the herbs and the alchemist. All I ask is that once you’ve healed, you consider working with my Steele family. Your talent as an artifact maker is unparalleled. Together, we could accomplish incredible things.”

Tears welled in Iridelle’s eyes, and for a moment, she looked utterly overwhelmed. “Young Master Alaric, I… I don’t know what to say. You’re offering me something I never thought possible.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Alaric replied, his hand still resting on her shoulder. “Just promise me you’ll fight for this. For yourself. For Natasha.”

Iridelle nodded, her voice trembling. “I promise. And if this works… I’ll dedicate my craft to your family. You’ve given me hope, Young Master Alaric. Thank you.”

Alaric smiled, his heart swelling with satisfaction. “Hope is just the first step. The real journey starts now.”

As the moon shone down on them, Alaric smiled. He had found a way to not only help Iridelle but also to secure her talents for his family. It was a win-win situation, and he intended to make the most of it.