Chapter 104.5: Interlude Elia 2

Dinner that night was a quiet affair.It hadn’t always been like that.

There was a time, not so long ago when meals were filled with laughter, warmth, and happy chatter. Her mother would tease her father, who would grumble good-naturedly before launching into some exaggerated tale to try and draw a laugh from “his women”.

Elia had always loved those moments. The easy closeness, the certainty that home would always be safe, no matter what happened outside.

But everything had changed since the whispers of rebellion had crept into their lives.

Silence had replaced laughter. Suspicion had taken the place of warmth. And every conversation was either full of grievances or smothered by the only thing her parents seemed capable of thinking.

Elia forced herself to eat. Chew. Swallow. Smile.

She had spent the day at Ogden’s shop, pretending to visit Rhea while discussing far more dangerous things. The old alchemist had always known too much about what was happening in Floria, but instead of pressing her for information or accusing her of conspiring against the King’s peace, he had offered something far worse: a choice.

Elia could look away. Pretend she didn’t see what her parents and the others were planning. She could keep quiet and simply wait for the outcome, however bloody it might be.

Or, she could try to do something about it. At the very least, she could buy Nick enough time to do whatever it was he planned to do.

So she had agreed.

Now, seated at the same dinner table where she had grown up, across from the two people who had raised her, she felt like a stranger.

She knew what they were doing and planning, and they had no idea she was trying to stop them. They wouldn’t understand why and would see it as a betrayal.

“Elia,” her mother’s voice was light. “What did you do today?”

It sounded like an innocent question. But was it?

A part of her—a pitiful, wounded part—longed to trust them. Longed to believe that it was merely small talk. That there wasn’t a concealed trap in those words.

For a moment, she felt the overwhelming urge to break down. To throw her plate down. To shout at them. To demand why they were doing this, why they had let themselves become people she barely recognized.

But she crushed the feeling before it could surface. Instead, she took a small breath, smiled, and said, “I was with Rhea for most of the day.” That much, at least, was true. “Then I trained for a bit. Actually, I wanted to show you something tomorrow.”

Her mother’s ears twitched slightly. “Dear, you know we have to begin our plans soon. Is this really that important?” She asked dismissively.

Elia knew she had never been the most diligent when it came to combat training. Not out of laziness, but because she had never felt the need. She was a fast runner and a good scout, and if she ever found herself in a real fight, she would have already made a terrible mistake.

She had spent the whole day preparing with Ogden. Laying the groundwork. Creating the illusion. And now she had to sell it.

Before she could reply with her canned answer, her father interjected. “Of course,” Teo said smoothly. “We’d love to see it.”

He didn’t question her. Her father had always been observant, and now she couldn’t tell if he was simply encouraging her or playing along because he had already seen through her.

Elia forced herself to take another bite of food, pretending she didn’t feel the way her stomach twisted into knots.

The night passed in a blur after that.

She exchanged the usual pleasantries. Laughed when she was supposed to. Smiled at all the right moments until she could finally retreat into her room.

But all the while, her mind was elsewhere. She kept replaying her conversation with Ogden and Rhea in her head, trying to convince herself they had covered every detail.

The Elixir of Dancing Embers was the key, and she had to believe it would work.

A rare potion crafted by Ogden himself, it was designed to enhance her fire affinity beyond her natural abilities and create an illusion of superior skill. While it won’t turn her into a nine-tailed fox, it might make her a convincing enough two-tails to deceive her parents and the other beastmen they would surely invite to watch her after they realized what she had become.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

With a sigh, she tipped her head back and drank the whole thing, repressing a gag at the ashy taste. It would take twelve hours to reach the appropriate strength, and she’d need everything she could get to fool her parents.

Sleep was predictably restless.

She dreamed of Nick, running through the forest, fighting against shadows she couldn’t see. He called out to her, but no sound came. She tried to reach him, but he was always just beyond her grasp.

Elia woke up just before dawn, her heart pounding. She stayed in bed for a few minutes, watching as the first hints of sunlight bled across the horizon, casting the trees in golden hues.

And then, she got up. There was work to do.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down the front of her tunic.

She had barely slept, and everything felt wrong, but she was out of time.

And so, when she descended the stairs, she kept her posture straight, her tail tucked just enough to appear nervous but not uncertain, and her ears pointed forward in apparent eagerness.

Wulla and Teo were already at the table.

“Come, sit,” her mother smiled, gesturing to the chair beside her. “You need to eat before we go out.”

Elia hesitated, and that hesitation nearly shattered the mask she had so carefully put on.

She had grown so used to the distance between them and the sharpness in her mother’s tone when she spoke of what their people were going through that the sudden warmth felt foreign. It hurt, but it was so.

Elia forced a small smile and sat down.

A wooden bowl of porridge sprinkled with bits of bacon and nuts was placed before her.

Elia’s stomach churned, but she ate.

For a brief moment, as her mother tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as if she were still a little girl, she almost let herself believe that her mother was still her mother.

That she wasn’t just another pawn in their game.

But then Wulla’s hand fell away, and the softness disappeared. “So,” she said briskly, “show us.”

Elia swallowed her last bite of porridge and pushed the bowl aside.

“I need more space,” she said, keeping her voice measured. “And water. I can show you best if we get to one of the streams.”

Her father seemed not to find a problem with that, but her mother hummed, considering.

Elia forced herself to meet their eyes. “It’s a bit too destructive to do here,” she said, giving them the truth but not the whole truth.

A flicker of surprise. Then, a smile of approval. Her mother smiled. “Then we should go where no one can see.”

They moved quickly, slipping past Floria’s northern border, past the patches of farmland, and into the trees.

The morning was crisp and clear, but Elia barely noticed. Her heart beat steadily even as the elixir’s warmth began to make itself known, and her mind ran through every possibility.

Would Ogden’s preparations work as well as he said? Had Rhea done her part? She had no fallback plan that didn’t involve reporting her parents to the authorities, and she wasn’t sure she could do that.

At last, they reached the pond where she used to train with Nick.

The water was still, reflecting the sky in an unbroken mirror. She had shaped it long before she had ever questioned her place in this world, and it felt fitting to come back here for this.

She took her position just shy of the water’s edge, standing where she had once stood when she first showed Nick what she could do.

She breathed in, summoned her mana, and felt the fire of her ancestors respond beyond anything she had ever commanded before.

The elixir was working.

She willed the foxfire into existence, and the world around her changed.

The flames curled and twisted around her fingers, a deep blue, richer than any she had ever summoned before. A second, ghostly tail materialized beside her natural one. She couldn’t feel any feedback from it, of course, since she wasn’t truly tapping into divine power. But it would certainly appear so to anyone watching who hadn’t seen the real thing—which was no one, as that Talent hadn’t manifested in far too long.

Even before she moved the flames or let them touch anything, the water in the pond began to steam.

The grass beneath her feet dried and curled, the earth cracked, and the air distorted in a twenty-foot radius of sheer desolation.

Elia knew it wasn’t only her doing and that Ogden had prepared the ground, ensuring the reaction would be dramatic, but her parents didn’t know that.

Her mother gasped. Her father took a step forward, his golden eyes wide. They looked at her with pure, unfiltered awe for the first time in too long.

Elia flicked her wrist to dismiss the flames, curling her fingers into a fist to hide their slight trembling. Her ghostly tail faded with them, seemingly reabsorbed into her body.

A heartbeat of silence.

Then her mother rushed forward, catching her in an embrace, cradling her face like she had when she was a child.

“You’ve done it, you’ve restored our birthright,” Wulla whispered, her voice shaking with something close to reverence.

Teo’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, squeezing tight. “The ,” he murmured. “You grew a second tail, just like your great-great-grandfather.”

Elia let herself smile, even as her stomach twisted.

Her mother pulled back, gripping her shoulders. “This—this is what we needed, Elia. You are ready. Now, we must tell the others. This is a moment of celebration.”

Elia’s smile did not falter.

If this was what was needed to slow them down—what was needed to buy Nick time—then she would do it all again and again.

“We must show the others,” Wulla abruptly said, switching from childlike wonder to absolute seriousness, “They must know that Inari has blessed us once more.”

Elia wanted nothing less than to be in front of that many people, but this was part of the plan, too, and she played her part accordingly, “But I’m not sure it’s ready. I couldn’t hold it for that long…”

“Oh, don’t be stupid, dear. That is more than anyone else managed. I know your uncle Osmo would have been beside himself, may the ancestors watch his soul.”

From that point, the morning went by in a blur. Her mother was in full organization mode, and when she got like that, there was nothing that could stop her. She sent Teo to gather some of the others who were in their confidence, and they quickly put down a list of those who could be trusted with the knowledge of Elia’s “gift.”

It was a depressingly small one, but two dozen people were nonetheless gathered at the pond in only another hour, and once the last bearkin arrived, the attention fell on Elia.

She looked at her parents for guidance, hoping that one of them would take the initiative to introduce what they were there to do, but they simply stared back encouragingly, and she was left with no recourse but to turn to the waters and prepare for a repeat show.

Turning around, Elia went through the motions of summoning her foxfire once more. It answered even more eagerly, and at her gesture, more and more blue flames appeared out of nowhere, twisting the environment into a barren landscape.

Just as her ghostly second tail was about to manifest, a massive column of fire erupted from the deep forest miles away, capturing everyone’s attention. This was just as well because Elia yelped in surprise as she felt a real second tail appear on her back, and her mind was flooded with System messages.