Jared gave a slow, deliberate nod, the gold flecks in his eyes catching the lantern-light. “All right…” murmured, each word tight with intent. “First stop, the Linford residence. We need to see the situation for ourselves.”
Moments later, the trio slipped back into the night-dark streets, their footfalls quick yet unhurried, as though drawn forward by the same unspoken urgency.
The Linford residence spread across an entire city block, its slate roofs and cedar pillars lit by muted lanterns that whispered of centuries gone. Every arch, every courtyard doorway, carried the hush of aristocratic history.
As Luna crossed the threshold with Jared and Flaxseed close behind, rows of liveried servants bowed deeply, their voices blending into a gentle chorus of welcomes that rustled like silk in the quiet halls. Zachary hurried forward, his silver hair still perfectly parted. “Ms. Linford, you have returned!”
Luna tipped chin in greeting. “Zachary, has my father come home yet?”
“Mr. Linford arrived only moments ago,” Zachary answered, lowering his voice. “He is waiting for you in the study.”
Luna’s eyes brightened in an instant. “My father is really back?”
Zachary nodded once. “Yes, returned only a short while ago.”
Before another heartbeat passed, Luna was already racing toward the study, skirts swirling like pale clouds. Jared and Flaxseed exchanged a glance and followed at a quieter pace.
Inside, a middle-aged man sat alone beneath a hanging oil lamp, his robe hanging loose around his thin shoulders. Shadows bit into the hollows of his cheeks. and exhaustion clouded the once-keen intellect behind his eyes.
But even diminished, the lines of his face left no doubt, this was Luna’s father, Marvin Linford.
Luna burst through the doorway.
“Father!” Her voice quivered with relief and admiration. Marvin looked up, a weary smile unfolding like dawn. “Luna, you’re back…”
But when his gaze drifted past to Jared and the bespectacled Flaxseed, the smile froze, brittle as winter frost.
“And these two are?” Marvin asked, confusion furrowing his brow. Luna stepped aside so companions were clearly visible. “Father, these are my friends. They’ve come to help us.”
Marvin considered that, a crease of puzzlement still etched between his eyes. “Help us? What trouble could possibly face the Linford family?”
Luna’s color drained. “Father, don’t you remember attending the Sixth Hall’s public lecture?”
Marvin’s eyes flickered with emptiness. “Sixth Hall… Lecture?” He rubbed his temples. “I… I remember going to some important gathering, but the details are gone…”
The Sixth Hall harvested his soul. That must be why his memories are missing!
Marvin shook his head slowly. “Truly, Luna, it is all a haze. I recall the journey, yet nothing of what was discussed once I arrived.”
The realization sliced through Luna like cold steel, father’s soul had indeed been taken. She pressed a trembling hand to chest, fighting the swell of dread. She lifted chin with new resolve. “Don’t worry, Father… We will find a way to restore your memories.”
Marvin nodded, but the bewilderment in his gaze lingered like fog that refused to lift. Jared and Flaxseed watched the exchange in wordless discomfort, neither eager to speak the grim truth.
Jared remembered seeing Marvin back in Blackwind City, the night souls had swirled around the plaza like startled birds before plunging into Jared’s waiting palm. He had converted them into a cultivation resource without a second thought.
Those souls were gone forever, retrieving them was as impossible as coaxing smoke back into a burned-out candle. Yet could not bring himself to voice this to Luna.
An uneasy silence wrapped around him, heavy and unspoken. Marvin’s soul, what little remained after the carnage, had flowed into Jared like smoke drawn into a bellows.
During that moment of panic, the assembled cultivators, duped by shadowed illusion, turned their weapons on Jared. After such betrayal, couldn’t care less about them.
Flaxseed toyed with the tassel of his gourd and whispered, “So… So, what do we do now?”
Jared paused, brow knitted. “We go to the Eastshire Lord’s Residence. Perhaps Lord Eastshire knows a solution.”
“Yes, the lord sent my father. We must find him!” Fury burned across Luna’s freckles, turning usually gentle eyes into storm clouds.
The trio set off, boots ringing against Eastshire’s cobblestones as dusk slid toward night.
***
The Eastshire Lord’s Residence loomed at the district’s heart, larger than the Linford residence and dripping with opulence.
Two rows of armored guards flanked the gate, gazes sweeping every passerby like whetted blades. One guard thrust his spear across their path. “Halt! State your business!”
“I am Luna of the Linford family,” said, stepping forward. “I demand audience with Lord Eastshire!”
The guard’s eyes flicked over silk sleeves. “The lord is occupied with state affairs. No visitors!”
