Chapter 1251: Speculations About the Twins

The swirling dust suddenly stilled.

Under Amber’s control, the shadowy sand suspended in midair transformed into a frozen tableau—a stage locked in time. Towering pillars, indistinct distant scenery, and three figures standing center stage all hung motionless before Gawain. He leaned in, eyes fixed on the two figures standing before Modir at the heart of the scene. Though the shifting sand illusion was blurry, he could just make out that they were two women, faintly bearing elven features.

No finer details could be discerned—after all, this illusion was confined to such a small space, and images formed from drifting sand could hardly be sharp. Moreover, these images were drawn from the deepest recesses of Amber’s memory, extracted from fragments long eroded by time and of unknown origin. That such a complete scene could be conjured at all was nothing short of a miracle.

“This scene was pulled from the deepest ‘recordings’ within the shadow dust,” Amber’s voice came from beside him, thoughtful. “These sands replaced half of Modir’s body, so their records likely contain fragments of his lost memories. And this scene is clearly the most vivid among them all… Two women, and elves at that. Does that ring any bells for you?”

Gawain didn’t answer immediately. He kept studying the two indistinct faces, and after a long moment, he spoke with near certainty: “They’re the elven twins—Filna and Relna.”

Amber blinked in surprise. “That sure sounds confident.”

“It’s the only possibility I can think of. I’ve seen records of those twins from Veronica and Beltira, and I can faintly recognize the similarities in these sand illusions,” Gawain nodded gently. “Unless you have another idea?”

“…Then I trust your judgment,” Amber said without hesitation, though her brow furrowed slightly. “So the last people Modir Wilde saw were those twin elves. After that, he underwent some kind of ‘transformation.’ He might have been split into two entities—one trapped in the Shadow Divine Realm, becoming that book called ‘Wilde,’ and the other left in the mortal world, half his body replaced by shadow dust. His memories were torn apart, and he forgot all of this…”

“And now you’ve retrieved this buried memory from the dust on him,” Gawain said gravely. “At last, we have a lead.”

“This is completely unexpected. I’m telling you—Filme couldn’t have made up a story this wild,” Amber said, eyes wide. “I never would’ve guessed those twin elves would be involved in the end! How did Modir Wilde get tangled up with them? According to the timeline we know, those twins were already the leaders of the End of All Things cult back then…”

“Not just leaders—they had even visited the borders of the Divine Realm. When they returned, they were likely replaced by some kind of ‘inhuman entity’… I don’t even have words to describe them,” Gawain said solemnly, as various clues began to form and connect in his mind. “The End of All Things cult went off the rails from the start, but to fall so fast and become the most dangerous and extreme of the three major dark sects—that had to be because of these two ‘divine realm insiders’ hiding among mortals.”

He paused, eyes drifting back to the frozen sand “stage,” his tone tinged with confusion. “But like you said, how did Modir Wilde even meet them? That great adventurer disappeared while active in the northern wastelands, but from what we know, the elven twins were secretly developing the dark cult in southern Ansu or near the southeastern border of Typhon at that time—Beltira remembers that period clearly.”

“And the meeting place itself is curious,” Amber pointed at the sand. “Look at these pillar-like structures, the beams connecting them, and what looks like a dome overhead. I’m no architecture expert, but I’m sure this isn’t the style of any northern kingdom. The Silver Empire’s architecture is somewhat close, but their domes use a different kind of support…”

Gawain said nothing, studying the sand-formed “building” for a long moment before breaking the silence thoughtfully. “Have you considered another possibility… about the elven twins who met Modir here?”

“Another possibility?” Amber was momentarily caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“All signs point to the fact that the Relna sisters who returned from the Divine Realm border during the Gondor era were likely replaced by some indescribable force. The real elven twins may have been left forever in the Divine Realm, beyond human reach. So…” Gawain slowly said, his tone serious as he pointed to the two figures standing before Modir in the sand illusion, “the two elves here might not be the ‘freaks’ from the End of All Things cult.”

Amber’s eyes widened as she grasped Gawain’s line of thought, stunned. “You mean Modir Wilde actually met the ‘original’ Relna sisters? The ones lost at the Divine Realm border? Then this scene here…”

“I’m only speculating,” Gawain cut her off, fingers tapping absently on the tea table. “The clues are fragmented and tangled, hard to piece into a whole. But think about it—Modir was split into two parts, one in the Shadow Divine Realm, the other half replaced by shadow dust. That kind of change couldn’t have happened in the mortal world. Meanwhile, the ‘elven twins’ we know were cultists active with the fallen druids in southern Ansu six centuries ago—there’s no way they crossed paths with Modir, who was already in the north. And finally…”

He paused, looking into Amber’s eyes with a low voice. “You said these pillars and domes don’t match any known architecture on the continent. What if this place is actually a ‘Divine Realm border’?”

Amber blinked, stunned, then slowly realized what he meant. She glanced at the sand-formed scene with a near-horrified look, murmuring, “The Divine Realm border… Can mortals even survive going there? Not every Divine Realm is as ‘harmless’ as the War God’s… And how did Modir even get there?”

“He’s Modir the great adventurer—someone who can transform himself into an ‘artificial shadow dweller’ and roam the Shadow Realm seven times over without dying. I’m not surprised he somehow blundered into a Divine Realm border,” Gawain muttered with a strange expression. “And speaking of surviving… look at Modir’s current state. Can you really say he ‘came back alive’? Maybe his bizarre condition is the price he pays for glimpsing the Divine Realm…”

Amber nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly snapped her fingers. “Wait! If your theory holds, Modir met the lost Relna sisters at the Divine Realm border nearly six centuries ago… But those sisters disappeared during the Gondor Starfire era! That means they survived at the Divine Realm border for four whole centuries?”

“At least four centuries,” Gawain said seriously, pointing to the sand illusion. “They look well enough here, and given elves’ lifespans, if they’ve survived there for four centuries, they could live many more years—maybe even…”

“Maybe they’re still alive now!” Amber suddenly stood up from the tea table, frowning in disbelief. “My god… Is that even possible? The elven twins lost at the Divine Realm border a thousand years ago… and now you say they might still be alive? This…”

“We’re speculating too far,” Gawain said, watching Amber’s excitement and urging her to calm down. “All our guesses so far are based on limited indirect clues and assumptions. And I don’t think the elven twins are really still alive—that’s beyond just a miracle. Instead of chasing these wild theories, we should focus on the real issue: Modir himself.”

Amber finally cooled down. She frowned, carefully studying the shadow dust floating above the tea table. Then she snapped her fingers, and the dust vanished instantly. Turning to Gawain, she spoke seriously: “At this stage, I can intervene with the shadow dust on Modir to ‘stabilize’ him. I’ve roughly figured out that the dust resonates with the Lady of Night’s Divine Realm, which is why Modir gradually established a connection with ‘that place’ in his dreams. I don’t know the mechanism behind this resonance, but suppressing it temporarily isn’t difficult.

“Of course, this is just a stopgap. I can keep Modir here for now, but as long as his split state continues, his memories, soul, body, and that book problem won’t be resolved. I have no clue how to fix that yet—the easiest thought is to try contacting the Lady of Night. But so far, visits to her Divine Realm by either Modir or me have been random events. We probably can’t figure out the pattern anytime soon…

“I do have another idea: try some kind of ‘summoning’ in the real world to forcibly pull that book called Wilde from ‘there’ to here, then see if we can merge it with Modir…”

Gawain glanced at her. “That idea’s even less reliable than the first. If we could pull ‘Wilde’ over from ‘there,’ we’d definitely be able to contact the Lady of Night. And even if you did manage to bring that book here, how do you plan to merge it with Modir? Throw them both in a big vat and stir?”

“So I guess we just put that on hold for now,” Amber shrugged with a ‘not my problem’ look. “For now, I can only stabilize the adventurer’s condition, at least to keep him from being pulled ‘over there.’ How to solve the rest… that’s a problem for smart people like you and Victoria. Plus, we still need to figure out what to do about that ‘tower’ near the West Coast. To fully fix Modir’s issues, we’ll have to push things back a bit.”

Gawain had to admit Amber’s words were practical. Honestly, the intelligence they’d extracted from the dust far exceeded expectations. Until more clues surfaced, it was wise to focus on other pressing matters.

“You make a good point—we still need to save enough energy to deal with that ‘tower,’” Gawain sighed softly, a rare moment of straightforward agreement with Amber. “At least for now, Modir’s condition can be temporarily stabilized. Victoria’s side will definitely be grateful to you…”

“Whether they’re grateful or not doesn’t matter,” Amber said with a grimace. “Just picturing that icy look on her face when she says thanks gives me chills. But if she’d be willing to share a few bottles of the Golden Leaf Wine and Frostgrass Winter Dew from Winterhold’s cellar, that’d be great—I’ve been craving those rare vintages of hers for ages…”

Gawain’s curiosity was piqued. “Wait, you’ve been to Winterhold? How do you know what’s in Victoria’s cellar? She’s not exactly the type to chat about that kind of thing with you…”

“She wouldn’t, but her nephew would!” Amber said proudly. “I got the scoop from Findir. He says his aunt’s cellar is full of treasures—if you get caught sneaking a drink, you get seven days of punishment; if it’s a bigger offense, it’s two weeks; and if you really mess up, you get thrown off the castle terrace. I’m not asking for much—just half a cartload of the two-week punishment level would do…”

Gawain: “…?”

…

At the same moment, deep within the blasted wastes of Gondor, shrouded beneath a veil of filthy clouds.

On the barren plains stood jagged ruins—what had once been a magnificent, advanced city centuries ago was now a landscape of shattered walls and broken bones. Ravaged by corrosive winds and dust, the skeletal remains of buildings twisted into grotesque shapes, steel and concrete claws clawing at the sky. Scattered around the ruined city were hardened fragments of what used to be the public transit roads connecting the cities, now almost fused into the earth, swallowed by sand and soil.

Yet amid this desolation and lifelessness, a patch of surprisingly vibrant “vegetation” had taken root, spreading over a small area in the city center.

Dark green vines coiled around toppled, crumbling buildings; unknown shrubs sprouted from rusted steel and decay. Twisted treants swayed their withered, ugly crowns, bustling back and forth within this tangled network of vines and bushes. At the very heart of their activity, dozens of large, grotesque mutants—covered in bony spikes, their faces like melting, flowing red sludge—worked feverishly under the direction of some treants, digging through the ruins of a massive structure.

Near the excavation site, atop a weathered platform jutting from the ground, two figures looked down on the busy “construction site” not far below.

Elven twins, sisters Relna and Filna.

(End of chapter)