The memory of the previous night’s unnerving encounter lingered heavily in Lysandra’s mind as she tried to settle into sleep on the second night. Her son’s voice, or what she believed to be Agonon’s voice, replayed in her thoughts, stirring a tumult of emotions within her. The vividness of the encounter made it impossible for her to dismiss it as a mere dream or a trick of her mind.

Lysandra lay on her bed, her eyes staring at the ceiling as she wrestled with the memories, trying to make sense of the impossible. She forced herself to calm down, hoping to find some respite in sleep.

However, just as she began to drift into slumber,

“Mother…I am waiting for you…”

The whisper, carrying the same familiar tone as before, jolted Lysandra awake. She gasped, her heart pounding as she quickly sat up, her eyes darting towards the balcony. There, the same winged shadow stood, a silhouette that sent shivers down her spine.

“Agonon…” Lysandra gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and shock. She rushed towards the balcony, desperate to reach him, to confirm that it was indeed her lost son.

But, just like the previous night, the shadowy figure took off into the sky as she approached. Determined not to let him leave this time, Lysandra followed without hesitation, her wings carrying her swiftly into the night air.

As she emerged onto the balcony and hovered in the sky, her eyes frantically searched the darkness for any sign of Agonon. But once again, there was nothing. The night sky was empty, devoid of the figure she so desperately sought.

The repeated disappearance of the shadowy figure left her reeling with confusion and frustration. The encounters felt too real to be mere figments of her imagination. Yet, the lack of any tangible evidence of Agonon’s presence was bewildering.

And so she wondered if it was any expert of one of their enemies trying to play a trick on her. She scanned her room and the balcony for any traces of mana that could have been left behind by a mindforce expert.

Even just a mere whisper from a mindforce expert would carry mana that manipulates one’s mind. And given her power and having mastered the Arts of Mana Echoes, it can’t be hidden from her sight.

But to her confusion and disbelief, there was none.

How could this be…Does this mean that what she saw and heard was real? Or were multiple powerful experts doing this to her? Then, there was a possibility they could work together to hide their traces.

But the latter explanation didn’t seem plausible. No enemy can get anywhere within a hundred miles of the Dracan Palace.

No…there were enemies nearby.

“Queen Lysandra, is there something you are looking for at such a late hour?” Asher called out, his tone laced with a hint of curiosity.

Lysandra’s response was immediate and sharp, her eyes narrowing into a cold gaze as she turned to face him, “You… Why are you awake at this hour?” she demanded. Her voice carried a warning edge as she continued, “Whatever you are planning… don’t push it. You aren’t as safe as you think.”

“What-” Asher, about to respond, was cut off as Lysandra swiftly flew back to her room, leaving no room for further conversation.

Asher watched her retreating figure, a smile playing on his lips as he turned back into his room. –

On the 3rd night,

Lysandra took extra precautions. Determined not to be deceived or disturbed, she erected powerful magical formations around her room, designed to ward off any hostile mana that might infiltrate her space and trick her senses.

With the formations in place, Lysandra felt a sense of security and control.

She lay down in her bed, trying to push aside the disturbing memories of the past two nights. The visions of her son, whether real or imagined, had deeply unsettled her.

Despite the vivid recollections tugging at her mind, Lysandra focused on clearing her thoughts, seeking the peace of undisturbed sleep.

However, as she drifted into slumber,

“Mother…I need you.”

The whispered plea jolted Lysandra awake. Her heart racing, she sprang from her bed and charged towards the balcony without wasting a second.

There, on the balcony, stood the winged figure resembling her son Agonon, his back turned to her.

As Lysandra reached out, desperate to touch him, to confirm his reality, the figure ascended and vanished into the night, like a wisp of smoke.

“Agonon!” she cried out, her voice echoing with despair and confusion. Lysandra scanned the skies, her mind reeling, “You… You can’t be real…” she whispered to herself, disbelief and shock evident in her voice.

The realization that she had seen her son despite the protective formations shook Lysandra to her core. This wasn’t an illusion or a trick of her mind or someone playing tricks on her; it was real.

“What are you doing?” In the midst of her emotional turmoil, Lysandra was startled by the sudden appearance of Drakar in her room. Lysandra, momentarily caught off guard, quickly composed herself. She turned to face Drakar, who was surveying the room for any sign of disturbance, masking her inner turmoil with a calm exterior, “I just had a bad dream,” she explained with a slight shake of her head, “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” She was aware that her outcry for Agonon might have carried beyond the walls of her room, possibly alerting others, including Drakar.

Drakar’s expression was stern, his gaze piercing as he addressed her, “You can’t let Agonon’s death hold you down and make you weak. You can’t afford that as my queen. I have given you enough time, Lysandra. But if you continue to feel this troubled, then I will have to let someone fix it for you,” he warned, his tone firm and uncompromising.

Lysandra quickly reassured him, keen to dispel any concerns about her strength and resolve, “No, that won’t be necessary,” she responded firmly. “I won’t give you any more reason to think I am going to let this hold me back. Once that alien is dealt with, I will move on.”

Drakar nodded, “That won’t take too long. But until then,” He glanced at the defensive unique formations around her room and added,”…keep a hold on yourself. Everyone is watching you,” he ordered before vanishing as abruptly as he had appeared.

Once alone, Lysandra allowed herself a deep breath, closing her eyes, her fists clenching.

–

On the 4th night,

Lysandra couldn’t sleep and sat up on the bed, her gaze glued to the balcony while the formations she had placed in her room yesterday were nowhere to be seen.

Her expression was vacant, and her eyes weren’t blinking as hours continued to pass. But no matter how much she eagerly waited, he never showed up.

On the 5th night,

She couldn’t sleep, and her anxiety only increased as she stared at the balcony. Why wasn’t he showing up again?

She could hear his voice echoing in her mind, calling out to her, seeking her as if he were in trouble.

What if he was really a ghost? A wandering or lost soul. She didn’t know if such things were real, but she had heard tales of their existence.

She would have dismissed them as absurd stories, but now she found herself wanting to believe in them, especially after realizing that what she saw and heard was real.

But hours passed, and it was already sunrise, and she was still sitting on the bed, her eyes glimmering with disappointment upon seeing that he didn’t show up.

On the sixth night, Lysandra, driven by a deep yearning to see her son again, prepared herself to sleep. She hoped that, as in previous nights, Agonon or his ghost might appear if she were asleep. Reluctantly, yet with a sense of purpose, she consumed a potion to induce sleep, her heart heavy with a mix of hope and apprehension.

“Mother… are you there?”

Lysandra awoke to the familiar, haunting whisper. This time, however, she restrained her impulse to rush towards the balcony. Instead, she rose slowly, cautiously, from her bed, as if any sudden movement might frighten away the shadowy, winged figure that stood there.

“Agonon… Is that really you? Can I come close to you… at least let me look at you…” she asked, her voice trembling, her usually cold eyes filled with a desperate longing, yet she remained rooted to the spot.

“I… I want to, mother, but I can’t… I am trapped,” the figure murmured in a low, gruff voice, laden with a sense of helplessness.

Lysandra’s eyes widened in confusion and hope, “I don’t understand, son. Where are you? I will come there and break you out myself,” she pleaded, her maternal instincts overriding her regal composure.

“You can’t. Only that alien can do something… I can’t stay here any longer. I will be waiting for you, mother,” the figure said before vanishing into the night.

“Wait! I don’t understand…” Lysandra stepped onto the balcony, reaching out to the empty space where her son had just stood, “Agonon…” she whispered, her voice a mix of despair and determination.

Then, her expression hardened as she gazed down from the balcony, her fiery red eyes narrowing with resolve and a newfound sense of purpose.

Meanwhile, Asher lay relaxed on his bed when he noticed a note slipping under his door. He picked up the note and it glowed briefly upon getting touched by his mana and the contents were revealed.

A smile formed on his lips as he picked it up, murmuring, “Right on time…”