"Did he accept the request?"
Sebastian, the butler of the Reinsfield family, sat by the window of his rented inn room. The view overlooked the quiet town below, its streets bathed in moonlight. People wandered aimlessly, unaware of the weight on the butler's shoulders. The silver glow reflected in his pale blue eyes as he spoke into a small, enchanted mirror resting in his hand.
"Not yet," he answered calmly. "He said he needed time to think it over."
"I see," replied the voice on the other end. "Did everything go smoothly with William Jaeger?"
Sebastian hesitated. "I'm not certain, sir. He seemed... interested. But at the same time, he just…"
"Hm? What is it, Sebastian?"
He thought back to the look in William's eyes—distant, conflicted, almost hollow. It was like staring at a reflection of himself.
"He looked like someone who wanted nothing to do with his family," Sebastian said quietly. "As if the knowledge meant nothing to him... like the past was a burden he'd already cast aside."
"That's preposterous," his master said sharply. "It's his family. No matter the circumstances, family always comes together."
—You're too kind to understand, Master.
When Sebastian had explained the history—the sword, the temple, and their connection to the Jaeger name—William had seemed visibly uncomfortable. Detached, even.
"There was something else," the butler added. "Something he said… it caught my attention."
"What did he say?"
"He mentioned... not being pure. It seemed like a comment about his bloodline. But he didn't elaborate. He was cryptic."
A pause. Then his master murmured, "Then what I was told must be true…"
Sebastian's eyes widened. "Master... do you know something?"
"There have long been rumors surrounding that family, Sebastian. And not the kind one speaks aloud. If we had a choice, I'd say it would be best to avoid them entirely. But—unfortunately—we don't."
Sebastian already knew the rumors. Everyone in the higher circles did. The Jaeger family was as infamous as they were celebrated. The same name that echoed through the kingdom in praise also came attached with whispers—scandals, betrayal, even accusations of forbidden practices. None were ever confirmed. But the Jaegers had never tried to deny them either.
They lived above it all. Untouched. Unbothered.
And yet, in their time of need, the Reinsfield family had no other option but to reach out to William—the only Jaeger remotely accessible.
Sebastian looked back at the mirror, hesitating.
"…How is she doing?"
"She's asking for you," his master replied gently. "I told her you'd be here in a few weeks."
Sebastian gave a solemn nod. "I see. Then I'll take no further delays. I'll be at the temple in two weeks."
"Two weeks?" His master sounded surprised. "Sebastian, the trip alone should take far more than that."
"I have a contact nearby," he said, adjusting his gloves. "Once I make it out of the Lost Forest, there's a town not far from the edge. He'll help me reach the temple within that time."
"…You're going to him, then? The great sorcerer?"
Sebastian smiled faintly. "There really is nothing that escapes you, Master."
His master smirked from the mirror. "I'm simply very good at connecting the dots. Very well—I trust your judgment. If you believe it's for her sake, I won't stop you."
There was a moment of stillness, then the master offered a final word.
"Goodnight, Sebastian."
The mirror dimmed, and the image vanished.
Sebastian exhaled slowly. He placed the mirror aside and leaned back on the bed. From a pocket inside his coat, he pulled out a small silver locket. It swung gently in his fingers as he gazed at it in silence.
His mind wandered back to the blacksmith—stoic, distant, unwilling.
—I'll find a way to convince you, Mr. Jaeger. Even if I have to use force...
He closed his hand around the locket.
—I'll do it all for you, my lady.
***
The blacksmith found himself once again in his grandfather's private study. The air was thick with dust and secrets. He had been searching for hours—sifting through old books, parchment scrolls, forgotten drawers—hoping to find some clue about the sword the butler had mentioned. But so far, nothing.
"There has to be something..." William muttered, flipping through another brittle page. "Or was that weird guy lying to me? No... that can't be it."
William had always possessed an odd talent—he could tell when someone was lying. He wasn't sure when it started, but over time, he simply knew. If he hadn't been so bad at negotiations, he might've made a fine merchant.
One thing he was sure of: Sebastian wasn't lying. Everything the butler had said rang true. But even with his uncanny sense for deception, William couldn't fully believe it—not until he saw the proof for himself.
"Come on," he growled, scanning another shelf. "I know the family likes to keep secrets, but something should be documented. They always dump sensitive stuff in here when they don't want anyone else to find it... so where is it?"
He searched every corner—bookshelves, desk drawers, behind paintings, even along the floorboards—for hidden compartments or loose stones. Nothing. Not a single scrap about the sword, the witch, or the temple.
"It's strange... My great-grandfather wrote down everything," William muttered, rubbing his temples. "Every important event, no matter how small. And yet this? Nothing."
Exhausted, he slumped into the old leather chair at the desk and took a deep breath. He needed to focus. Getting frustrated wouldn't help.
He glanced at the disorganized pile on the desk—a mess left behind from his last visit. With a sigh, he began to straighten the papers. As he moved a small stack of books aside, one title caught his eye.
"The Tears of the Three Princesses."
"This again?" he said, picking it up. "Isn't this just some old fantasy tale?"
As he opened the book, a hidden envelope slipped out and landed softly on the desk. Curious, he set the book aside and picked it up. It was addressed simply: "To my beloved."
The handwriting was unmistakable—Ludas Jaeger. William recognized it instantly. He hesitated.
"Should I open it...? It feels like an invasion of privacy. But... three Jaeger generations have passed. I doubt he'll mind now."
He broke the seal and unfolded the letter. His eyes scanned the page. It was, indeed, written by Ludas—and to his surprise, it mentioned many of the same things Sebastian had spoken of: the sword, the battle, the witch.
"So it's true…" William whispered. "He wasn't lying."
The confirmation shook him. All his life, he'd kept his distance from the Jaeger family. Even as a child, he'd felt the coldness, the weight of something unspoken. Then he was sent to live with his grandfather—Ludas's son—who had severed ties with the rest of the family altogether.
Life with his grandfather had been peaceful, simple, and far removed from the expectations of nobility or legacy. It had been an escape.
But now... the past was clawing its way back.
If he accepted Sebastian's request, he would have to face it all—them. Was it worth it?
"I should just walk away. But... what is that witch hiding? And that sword…"
The letter didn't go into much detail about the weapon itself, or the dark witch. But the mystery gnawed at him. What kind of sword could slay such a being? What secrets might be locked away in the witch's hidden library?
"Maybe... maybe there's something there," he whispered. "Something about my curse."
He continued reading—until a particular section at the end caught his attention.
"Hm? What's this part here…?" His voice trailed off. "Huh—?!"
His hands trembled. He stared at the final paragraph, unable to move, his body going rigid. He took a slow breath, trying to calm the rising nausea.
What he had just read changed everything.
Of all the secrets the Jaeger family buried, this one was the darkest. And now, he knew it. That made him part of it.
He felt sick.
But the decision was now clear.
"If I go," he whispered, gripping the letter tightly, "I might finally get the answers I've been searching for... starting with that library."
***
"Master, you're back!"
William slowly pushed open the door, trying not to make a sound. But it was too late—Nicolas had already spotted him.
"Don't call me 'master,'" William said, closing the door behind him.
Nicolas rushed over, clearly relieved. His grin was wide, his energy contagious. "When I noticed you'd suddenly left, I started to worry."
—I see… I made him worry.
William gave the boy a pat on the head, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
It was strange, hearing someone say they were worried about him. The last time that happened, he was still a boy himself—years ago, before his grandfather passed. He remembered sneaking out into the forest one night, only to be surrounded by wild creatures. He'd climbed a tree and stayed there until sunrise.
When he returned, his grandfather had wept with relief... before scolding him so hard his ears rang.
"I just needed some air, Nicolas. That's all." William paused. "Hm?"
He noticed something behind Nicolas's back.
The apprentice flinched, nearly dropping whatever he was hiding. William stepped closer and caught a glimpse of it.
"Is that…"
Nicolas gave up trying to conceal it and proudly revealed the object—a finished bell.
"Look! I did it!" he beamed. "Come on, praise me for my magnificent craftsmanship!"
William took the bell and inspected it carefully. Every detail was as he had instructed. He flicked it with a finger. The soft, clear chime echoed through the room.
"Hmm… not bad. Sounds just like a real bell," he said with a nod. "Great work. So, you can actually do a decent job."
"That… almost sounded like a compliment."
"I'll have you forge a few daggers tomorrow. We'll need them for the trip."
Nicolas tilted his head. "Trip? Wait, does that mean—?!"
"Yes," William said. "We're taking the butler's request. We'll be traveling with him. So behave, alright?"
Nicolas scrunched his face in mock disgust. "Ugh. It doesn't please me to interact with such evil creatures… but fine."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."
There was a pause. Nicolas shifted, clearly wanting to say something more.
"Listen, about earlier—I wanted to ask…"
A knock at the door cut him off.
They both turned toward the sound, then back at each other, uneasy.
"I-I'll get it," Nicolas offered, already heading for the door.
William scratched his head. "Uh… sure."
—It must be Sebastian. But it's not the time we agreed on.
"U-uh, Master...?"
William looked up—and saw Nicolas frozen in place, trembling. He was pointing shakily toward the entrance.
Standing in the doorway was a young woman with silver hair and crystal blue eyes. Her face was pale, her breath labored. Beads of sweat clung to her porcelain skin, and her hand clutched tightly at her chest.
She looked like she was on the verge of collapse.
"Lucy?!"
William rushed forward just as her knees buckled. She collapsed into his arms, barely conscious.
"Lucy...!" he called, holding her tightly. "Hang on—I've got you."