Chapter 84: The Night we Forgot

The wind in Santossa City carried the crisp scent of pine and the wild, untamed air of the northern hills. It had been raining earlier, and the stones of the estate's courtyard were slick with silver puddles. The storm had long passed, but the tension remained—as though the world was holding its breath.

Carl sat on the veranda, a leather-bound book untouched in his lap, his mind lost elsewhere. The creak of the iron gate caught his attention.

He looked up.

Caveen approached, coat damp from the misty air, his dark hair falling into his eyes. There was a heaviness in his steps—something that hadn't been there during his last visit. It was a weariness not from work, but from something clawing at the inside of his chest.

Carl stood. "Son."

Caveen offered a quiet smile and embraced him. "Is mother home?"

"She's in the garden."

"I need to speak with both of you."

Minutes later, they sat by the hearth in the library, warmth flickering against their skin as Maika poured them tea. Carl leaned forward, eyes locked on Caveen's troubled expression.

"You look haunted," Maika said gently.

"I've been having dreams," Caveen started, hands clasped together. "They started years ago, but they've grown stronger lately. I keep seeing her… a girl. Her face is unclear, but the feeling is always the same. I know she's my sister."

Maika inhaled sharply.

Caveen looked between them. "She calls to me in those dreams. Sometimes crying, sometimes silent. But it's as if she's waiting. Begging to be found."

Carl and Maika exchanged a glance.

"I thought she died," Caveen continued. "I accepted it, tried to move on. But these dreams—they aren't like memories or wishes. They feel like... warnings. Like she's alive, but trapped. Hidden."

Maika's eyes welled. "I used to feel that too."

"You never told me."

"Because it hurt," Maika whispered. "Because I didn't know if I was going mad."

Carl stood and began pacing.

Caveen leaned forward. "What if the Council lied to us? What if they took her that night? Mother, you said she was born radiating power. What if they feared it?"

Carl stopped. The fire crackled louder, as if reacting to the shift in energy.

"I remember the birth," Carl said slowly. "Or... at least I think I do."

"What do you mean?" Maika asked.

"I remember holding you," Carl said, turning to her. "Your body was weak from labor, but you were smiling. You said she was perfect."

Maika's breath caught. "I did. I remember."

"But then it all becomes fog," Carl murmured. "I was told she didn't survive the night. There was no body. No cry. Just... silence and a white-robed seer saying her heart had stopped."

"No body?" Caveen echoed.

Carl's eyes sharpened. "No burial. No proof."

A grim silence fell.

Carl turned to Caveen. "Your dreams might not be just dreams. They could be memories—sent through the blood bond."

"She's your little sister," Maika whispered.

Carl nodded. "It's time we stop mourning her and start investigating."

He walked to his old cabinet and pulled out a sealed scroll wrapped in royal crimson—marked with the insignia of the Council of Order.

"This was the official report they gave me the morning after," Carl said. "I never opened it. I couldn't bear to."

Maika's hands trembled as she reached for it. "Open it now."

Carl broke the seal. Inside was a short document, written in clipped, clinical language:

> "Subject: Elira of House Landon and Vellaria.

Birth: 2:09 a.m., Weight: 7 lbs 1 oz.

Status: Stillbirth.

Cause: Sudden auric collapse due to unbalanced magical saturation.

Disposal handled per protocol. No remains provided."

Carl's face darkened.

"No remains provided?" he repeated, nearly spitting the words. "They handled it themselves?"

"'Sudden auric collapse'?" Maika read. "That's not even a real condition."

Caveen looked between them. "They took her."

Carl stood abruptly. "I'm going to the Temple Archives. I'll find the records from that night."

Maika gripped his arm. "Carl... what if this opens a war?"

Carl met her eyes with fire behind his own. "Then let it."

---

Later That Night – Carl Alone

Carl rode alone under the shroud of night, his mount cutting through the forest path toward the Temple on the hill. His mind spun with shadows of that long-forgotten night.

He remembered faint flashes now—people in silver masks, whispers in foreign tongues, the feeling of being watched even in his sleep. Wards had been cast around the estate, supposedly for "protection." And when he awoke, she was gone.

No crying. No warmth.

Just cold silence.

He gritted his teeth. "They stole her."

His grip tightened on the reins.

He moved deeper, past the publicly recorded scrolls and into the forbidden chambers only accessible to Council members—or someone like Carl, who had once held privileged clearance as Alpha of the Lycan Dominion.

The Archivist, an old blind witch named Margoth, regarded him silently as he presented the amulet of his former station. She said nothing, merely motioned to a locked side door and vanished behind a curtain of shadow.

Carl entered alone.

The room was smaller than expected. Arcane runes glimmered along the walls. Files, bound in iron thread, filled the darkwood cabinets. His hand hovered over each until something drew him—a barely perceptible tug on his blood.

Cabinet V. Section 13. Drawer 4.

He slid it open. Inside was a single scroll, sealed in bloodwax and labeled not with a number, but a name.

"Elira the Nexus."

Carl's heart thudded. He looked around, then broke the seal.

The parchment crackled as he unrolled it. At first glance, it was a series of diagrams—ritual circles, binding glyphs, aura suppression scripts—and then, lines of cold text.

> Subject: Designation - Elira, offspring of Vampire Princess x Carello witch Maika Vellaria and Lycan king Carl Landon of Santossa lineage, identified as Nexus-tier hybrid (Classified: Carellos-Black Line).

Born with power levels exceeding Council-threshold tolerance. Precognition records estimate catastrophic instability within 25 years if left uncontained.

Solution: Consecration Ritual.

Objective: Suppress and reroute magical aura to null state. Remove memories from immediate bloodline through Auric Fog Enchantment.

Action: Transfer to human vessel family. No tracking glyph. No retained identification.

Outcome: Elira's signature now indistinguishable from baseline human. Location unknown due to ritual-induced loss during plague event. Status: MISSING.

Mandate: Search to resume upon manifestation of Nexus echo.

Carl's hand trembled.

"They... they erased her from existence. Hid her power. Erased our memories. And now she's out there, alone... with no idea who she is."

He stumbled back, breath caught between a growl and a cry.

They didn't just take Elira. They used magic to ensure no one remembered—not him, not Maika, not even the witches or Valus. Only a ghost of memory had remained, enough to haunt dreams but never enough to lead them back.

Until now.

Carl rolled the scroll, stowed it inside his coat, and stormed out of the archives.

The Council would answer for this.

---

The Council – Citadel of Veilspire

The air inside the citadel grew tight. A meeting was convened hastily—an emergency circle formed around the Scrying Flame.

Councilor Teyrin stood before the projection—a flickering image of Carl Santossa opening the file titled Elira the Nexus.

"He knows," she whispered.

A rumble of tension coursed through the room.

"He shouldn't have access to the Temple Archives," Councilor Dorn barked. "Those wards—"

"He's the Alpha of Santossa," Councilor Mirna replied. "He walked with kings. Of course he had access once."

Councilor Eshem, oldest among them, tapped his cane. "It no longer matters how. What matters is what he'll do."

Teyrin's face remained stoic. "He has the scroll. And he knows his daughter is alive."

The projection shimmered again. Carl's words echoed from the flame:

> "They erased her... she's out there."

Eshem narrowed his eyes. "Then the prophecy is accelerating."

"What do we do?" another councilor asked.

"We let him search," Eshem said coldly.

"What?"

"We observe. Track. And when the girl resurfaces, we take her again. This time with no mistakes."

Councilor Teyrin turned away, hiding the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

The Council had played gods with bloodlines, sealed power in infants, and wiped memory from entire generations—but Carl Landon had remembered.

And now, the hunt for Elira would begin again.

Only this time, the father was ready.