Chapter 1234: Shadowed Dust

The few grains of grayish-white sand were the “samples” Maggie had brought all the way from Talrond. They were a mysterious substance that Modir Wilde had retrieved from the “other side” while being pursued by the power of an ancient god. The grains lay quietly against the pitch-black velvet background, like faint stars embedded in the night sky. Around their edges, a barely perceptible halo of gray-white light seemed to diffuse outward onto the fabric. The hue was so subtle that even Gawain almost failed to notice it without careful scrutiny.

“…This is the stuff?” Gawain said, a bit surprised as he looked at the sand inside the box. He spoke instinctively, “It looks so unremarkable…”

“Yes, it looks ordinary, but it’s absolutely not something that should exist in the material world,” Maggie said seriously. “Before I arrived, Lady Victoria and Lord Heragor had already conducted some preliminary tests on these grains. They found that the sand doesn’t interact with any magical forces, nor can it be stained by any color. Even when illuminated by colored light, the grains remain a constant gray-white, as if their true form exists in an independent space untouched by our reality. What we see is merely their projection into our world—but their existence is undeniably real.”

Gawain hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then suddenly asked, “…What is Victoria doing now?”

“She’s staying by Mr. Modir’s side—without revealing her identity,” Maggie nodded. “His condition is very unstable. It seems he could be pulled back into the ‘other side’ of the dream at any moment. But the blood bond between Victoria and him appears to temporarily disrupt this ‘pull,’ allowing her to wake him from the dream in time…”

“I heard Modir’s strange condition started after he got close to Talrond,” Gawain said. “Have you considered having him leave that place for a while?”

“Before we set out, we discussed this with Lord Heragor, but he advised against rash action,” Maggie shook her head. “The power of the gods is an extremely strange and tenacious ‘thing.’ Once entangled, simply putting physical distance between you and it is useless. The connection has already been established; divine power can cross space and time. In fact, in worse cases, trying to flee hastily might trigger even more severe ‘backlash.’”

“I understand…” Gawain nodded gently. “It’s like the faith in the gods themselves. If you don’t believe, fine. But once you do, the chains form—and breaking free isn’t so easy. Even the gods can’t always control it.”

He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. Then he glanced at Amber, noticing that the half-elf had been quietly staring at the sand in the box for some time. Usually, she would fuss over any new curiosity for a while, but now she was unusually silent. Her amber eyes were filled with a complex mix of confusion, curiosity, and deep thought.

He immediately thought of Amber’s origins, and the intricate ties she had with the Shadow Realm. His tone softened with concern: “What is it? Does looking at this stuff make you uncomfortable?”

“No… not at all,” Amber finally snapped out of her reverie and shook her head quickly. “It just feels… strangely familiar and comforting, like I’ve been in contact with these things for a very long time…”

“Then your feeling is probably right,” Gawain nodded gently. “This stuff very likely comes from the Shadow Realm—and the Shadow Realm is where you were truly born. Maybe some of those original memories still linger in your subconscious.”

Amber gave a noncommittal “oh” and scratched her head, saying nothing more. Number Thirty-Six, the artificial being, was her true origin hidden beneath her half-elf appearance. As a pinnacle of ancient Gondor’s bioengineering, her body housed the soul of a shadow-dweller. Though she no longer remembered her time as a shadow being, it seemed those lost memories had left indelible traces deep within her heart.

Maggie, however, was utterly confused by the exchange between Gawain and Amber. She clearly had no idea about the Imperial Intelligence Minister’s “hidden origins,” and couldn’t help but ask, “What are you two talking about?”

“Nothing much, just some old stories,” Gawain waved it off casually, then stood up from the desk and picked up the delicate, intricate metal box. “I’ve examined the sample. We ‘laymen’ probably can’t analyze much. We should ask a real expert… What is Lady Enya doing right now?”

Amber shrugged casually, “Who knows? Probably reading the news or drinking tea. Or maybe playing cards online with someone—living a life so leisurely it makes me insanely jealous…”

Gawain sighed as he walked toward the door, muttering, “Don’t say that—I’m jealous just listening.”

They passed down the long corridor from the study to the incubation chamber. Soon, they arrived at Enya’s door, which was slightly ajar. Faint sounds came from inside. At first, Gawain was curious who might be visiting the retired goddess at this hour, but then he heard a distinct “Gao” sound.

Both he and Amber immediately smiled knowingly—the retired matron was babysitting.

Gawain pushed open the door and saw at once a young dragonling perched atop Enya’s eggshell, pretending it was a mountain, stretching its neck and randomly “Gao”-ing in all directions. The golden egg beneath the dragonling rested firmly in a recessed base on the floor, its surface glowing with faint golden runes, radiating a lazy, contented atmosphere. Gawain’s gaze swept the room and spotted another dragonling.

This little one sat seriously in a corner, wearing a metal bucket on its head. In front of her was an iron rack holding a row of half-cooked roasted meats. Head maid Betty was crouched beside the rack, earnestly teaching the dragonling how to properly use spices and cook the meat thoroughly—though how effective this lesson was remained to be seen.

Gawain took it all in and couldn’t help but wear a helpless smile. How to put it? These guys had a surprisingly rich daily life…

“Ah, my friend, good day,” Enya greeted warmly, balancing the dragonling on her eggshell. “You’ve brought guests again… Looks like trouble has found you once more?”

“Yeah, I’m basically here to ruin your peaceful days,” Gawain teased self-deprecatingly. “This time I’ve brought news from Talrond.”

The two dragonlings noticed Gawain and Amber’s arrival and immediately stopped playing. They let out sharp chirps and flapped their wings as they ran to the door. First, they raised their wings and lowered their heads, each “Gao”-ing twice to greet Gawain and Amber. Then they noticed Maggie standing silently nearby.

The little dragons’ faces instantly showed a human-like curiosity. They tilted their heads, recognizing the draconic aura in the newcomers—but there was something different about it. Unaware of the ancient history of the dragon race, the dragonlings grew nervous and timidly folded their wings.

This made Maggie, who had been about to smile and greet them, freeze awkwardly. She stood at the doorway, unsure where to put her arms after raising them slightly. Gawain quickly noticed and was about to break the silence to ease the tension. But just as he opened his mouth, the two nervous dragonlings suddenly seemed to realize something and burst into joyful “Gao” calls.

They hopped around on the floor, flapping their wings as they approached Maggie, stretching their long necks to nuzzle her hands. Maggie was caught off guard, and when she finally reacted, she was tangled up by the two little creatures. She looked helpless and a bit puzzled, glancing toward the softly glowing “former goddess” in the center of the room.

“Relax,” Enya chuckled gently, her tone soft and warm. “They just found you a little unfamiliar before. Dragons never mistake their own kind.”

“Have the two little ones been named yet?” Gawain asked, glancing at the dragonlings now playing around Maggie.

“Not yet. Melita and Noretta think it’s better to wait until they grow a bit before giving them official names,” Enya smiled. “But they do have nicknames now—Melita just gave them yesterday…”

“Nicknames?” Gawain was surprised, a smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t know that—what did Melita call them?”

Enya’s tone held a hint of resignation: “Meli and Nore…”

Gawain: “…Is that even allowed?!”

“I think it’s pretty casual too, but the little ones seem to like it,” Enya said casually. “Enough about that. You have business here today, right?”

At the mention of business, Gawain’s expression grew a bit serious. He glanced back at Betty, who was standing by, and waved her over. “Take the two little ones out to play for now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Betty nodded immediately, quickly patting the dragonlings on their heads. With a casual call, the two genuine dragons obediently followed her out, like dogs being led home by their owner.

Once Betty and the dragonlings had left, Gawain approached Enya and opened the metal box he’d been holding. “Take a look at this.”

As the gray-white sand inside the box was revealed, the faint golden runes on Enya’s eggshell flickered and paused for a moment. Her tone shifted instantly from lazy to extremely serious. “Where did you get this?”

Seeing Enya’s reaction, Gawain knew he had come to the right place.

“This might come from a lost divine realm,” Maggie quickly explained. “A mortal being, pursued by the power of an ancient god, brought it back from a dream into the real world. It seems you know something about its origin?”

“…This is Shadow Dust, a blessing from the Lady of Night’s sacred realm. Ever since the Voyager left this world and the Lady of Night herself vanished without a trace, neither the mortal realm nor the Shadowlands have been able to produce dust this pure again,” a solemn, low voice echoed from within the golden egg, tinged with both memory and melancholy. “These grains exist in the fleeting intersection of light and shadow. They are a divine ‘eternal product.’ No color or light in the world can alter the form they present to mortal eyes. Wherever they spread, that is where the Lady of Night’s divine kingdom extends… Yes, this substance comes from a lost godly realm. This is the very essence of the Lady of Night’s kingdom.”

Listening to Enya’s explanation, Maggie’s expression suddenly shifted. Her eyes widened. “Wait—these grains are the Lady of Night’s kingdom itself?! If we take this out, wouldn’t that mean—”

“Child, it’s unwise to talk about toxicity without considering dosage. Have you noticed the grayish-white aura extending from those grains? Even though these sands have long since severed their connection to the Shadow’s source, the ‘kingdom’ they spread is limited to just that.”

“Uh…” Maggie’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I guess I was a bit too anxious just now.”

“That’s understandable. After all, this involves divine power—an ancient deity who escaped the hunters during the Voyager era and remains missing to this day,” Enya said softly. “I was startled myself when I first saw these.”

“I remember you mentioned the Lady of Night’s disappearance,” Gawain suddenly interjected. “You said she might be in some strange ‘hidden’ state, and you could even ‘sense’ that she’s still alive…”

“But that was the ‘me’ of the past,” Enya replied calmly. “Now I’ve lost the ability to perceive other gods. All I have left is the experience and knowledge to help you identify these ‘relics.’ Even the old me… couldn’t help you find the Lady of Night’s whereabouts. She’s hidden very deeply.”

“…Is there any viable lead, then?” Maggie pressed on, unwilling to give up. “Is there any way we can find clues about that lost divine kingdom?”

“I have none. The mortal you mentioned earlier, chased by ancient godly power, is probably your only lead,” Enya answered immediately. “Judging by your attitude… that mortal must be quite special?”

“…That’s actually the other thing we wanted to tell you,” Gawain said with a soft sigh. “You should know this mortal—his name is Modir Wilde, a human adventurer active six hundred years ago. You met him in the Tower of the Reverse Tide.”

For a moment, the hatchery fell silent. Enya’s egg showed no visible expression, but Gawain could almost feel the gravity radiating from her, as if it had taken on substance. After several seconds, the voice of the ancient dragon god finally came from the golden egg: “It seems I made a grave mistake back then… What’s happening at the Tower of the Reverse Tide?”

Just as Gawain had expected, upon hearing Modir Wilde’s name, Enya immediately connected it to the Voyager’s legacy—the towering spire that linked Modir and Talrond, bridging six centuries between then and now. It was the key nexus most likely to lead matters into the realm of the gods.

“Nothing’s happened yet,” Gawain sighed softly. “But Heragor is deeply worried.”

(End of chapter)