Chapter 58: Chapter 58

"No—no, it’s okay, you can just stay here..."

I quickly raised my hand in front of the driver, stopping him from following.

The air was cool and faintly sweet, carrying the scent of wet earth and morning mist. We were already standing by the lakeside, the car parked behind us, its wheels half-sunk in soft soil.

I looked around, trying to match the place with what I remembered from the book — the old willow, the uneven stones, the quiet ripple that caught the light just right.

Somewhere here. It had to be.

"But my lady," the driver said hesitantly, taking a cautious step forward, "I really should walk you to Lord Drake for your safety—"

"Hmm?" I turned, blinking at him. "Oh, right. I forgot to ask... what’s your name, sir?"

He looked startled by the question. "Ah—" Straightening immediately, he brushed invisible dust from his coat and bowed slightly. "Forgive me, my lady. I’m Marek, of the Kirin Clan."

"Kirin Clan?" I echoed, curiosity slipping into my tone. "What’s a Kirin?"

I tilted my head, trying to recall if I’d ever read about them before. "Is there even a mythical creature named Kirin?"

Marek blinked, clearly unsure if I was teasing him or not. "Yes, my lady," he said carefully. "We’re descendants of the qilin... a guardian beast once called a celestial protector, before the world began dividing us into ranks and clans."

I blinked at him, then frowned. "So, technically, you’re like... a holy driver?"

He coughed, looking faintly offended. "A descendant

I grinned. "I’m sorry, I’m just kidding."

A corner of his mouth twitched, but he stayed polite. "It’s okay my lady, time changes and we do anything we can to survive."

That earned a quiet smile from me. "I agreed."

I glanced back toward the lake. The mist had thinned just enough to reveal the long stretch of silver water and a cluster of trees near the far side. One of them stood out, it was taller, looked older and its branches seemed heavier than the rest.

I pointed toward it. "Hey, Marek... that old willow tree over there, the really big one... do you know anything about it?"

Marek followed my gaze, eyes narrowing slightly. "The willow?"

"Yeah," I said, stepping closer to the edge of the path. "It looks... ancient. Like the kind of tree that is really... special?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he exhaled quietly, almost as if he’d been hesitating. "That tree’s been here longer than anyone in this region, my lady. They say it was already old when the first settlements were built."

I tilted my head. "So it’s a historical tree."

He gave a short, hesitant nod. "Historical, yes... but also sacred. Some say its roots reach the veins of the land itself... that it drinks from old magic, older than the clans."

That made me pause. "Older than the clans?"

"Yes." Marek’s tone dropped lower. "The elders say the willow marks where the last Phoenix flame once fell. When the world was still shifting after the war."

I blinked, suddenly alert. "The last Phoenix flame?"

He gave a cautious shrug. "Just... an old tale. No one knows for sure if it’s true. But travelers who rest under that tree often say they hear whispers in the wind. Some even claim the lake glows faintly when the air’s still."

I stared at the tree again. Its long branches shimmering faintly in the distance, their tips brushing the water’s surface.

It looked like any other tree... and yet, somehow, it gives me goosebumps.

"Right," I said finally. "Definitely not... creepy at all."

Marek’s mouth moved, though he kept his voice even. "Would you like me to accompany you closer, my lady?"

I shook my head, eyes still on the willow. "No. I think I’ll take a look at... myself."

The driver hesitated, glancing around the fog-laced water before bowing slightly. "But, my lady... forgive me for saying this, but I don’t see any glimpse or hint of Lord Drake nearby." His tone grew careful, almost nervous. "Are you certain he asked to meet you here?" Latest content publıshed on novel{f}ire.net

I blinked, my confidence wavering for half a second. "Uh—yes," I said, stretching the word a little too long. "He just... didn’t want anyone else to know, I think."

Marek’s brow furrowed, the kind of expression that said ’he’s too polite to call you out, but he definitely doesn’t believe you.’

"I see," he said finally. "Then, please, do be careful. The lake can be unpredictable."

"I’ll keep that in mind," I replied quickly, hoping my voice didn’t sound as guilty as I felt.

I turned toward the willow again, quickening my steps before he could start asking more questions. The grass dampened beneath my boots, and the mist curled thicker around my ankles.

Behind me, Marek called out, "My lady! If anything happens, call me immediately!"

"Got it!" I said, waving a hand over my shoulder.

The truth was... I had no idea what I was expecting to find. Maybe a spark of recognition, a trace of the story’s original scene, or just... a sign that something from the novel still followed its script.

But as I drew closer to the willow, the air around me shifted. The breeze faded, the sounds of birds and insects dimmed, and the surface of the lake grew perfectly still.

I slowed down when I caught sight of something near the water. A figure.

Her pale dress brushed the lake’s surface, the hem darkened from the damp. Her hair was the same color as mine and almost the same length too. She stood so still that for a second, I thought she might’ve been a statue.

Curious, I leaned forward slightly, trying to see her face but instead, I saw someone else. A man, standing under a smaller willow tree a bit to the left of the lake. He’d been looking at the woman... more like gazing at her.

I furrowed my brows. The man looked strangely familiar. "Wait..."

I squinted my eyes... even though yes, I was already wearing my glasses, just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.

"Confirm!" I whispered under my breath, my heart jumping. "Auren Lysander!"