The sitting room was warm and comfortable.

Azael settled onto the sofa beside Arista at the edge of the arrangement, and let himself quietly observe.

Lucas sat near his mother with the composed ease of someone who had spent his entire life in rooms like this one. Unhurried. Attentive.

Christina had dropped onto the sofa beside him but was already angled sideways, one leg tucked beneath her, treating the formal seating arrangement as a loose suggestion rather than an instruction.

Celestia’s gaze moved briefly to one of the maids standing near the wall.

"Go. Bring coffee and tea. And arrange something suitable to eat for our guests."

The maid bowed and slipped out of the room without a sound.

"Guests?" Aeliana’s voice was composed, her expression perfectly even. "I thought this place was still my home."

Anyone who didn’t know her would have taken it at face value. Anyone who did could hear the thread of dry amusement underneath.

Celestia glanced at her sister. Something in her expression shifted.

"You’re right," she said, leaning back against her sofa. "Calling you a guest isn’t appropriate. Forgive me.

" A brief pause. "That aside, how have things been? Is everything running smoothly?"

"On our side, yes," Aeliana replied. "Nothing significant has happened over the past month. Eveything is good."

Callius leaned forward slightly, and his expression shifted into something more serious.

"What about the organization? You captured one of their members after the attack on your city. Have you managed to get any useful information out of—"

Sabrina’s elbow connected firmly with his ribs.

"Ouch—" He turned to her with open irritation. "What was that for?"

She gave him a look that said everything without saying anything.

Celestia spoke before he could pursue it further, her tone carrying its usual unhurried authority.

"Callius. We gathered today for a family visit. Not a for those kind of things. Those matters can wait for a more appropriate time."

Callius blinked. Then the realization crossed his face. An expression of a man who has said the wrong thing in the wrong room and is only now catching up to that fact.

"Right." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about that, Big Sister Aeliana."

"It’s alright," Aeliana said, and her voice was genuinely unbothered.

A brief, easy quiet settled over the group.

Then Celestia’s gaze moved slow and deliberate. Then it landed on Arista.

"Fifth core level," she said. A statement of something she had already sensed the moment Arista had walked into the room. "You’ve come a long way. Also...you reached that stage more earlier than I thought."

Arista sat up slightly straighter. Coming from anyone else, a compliment like that would have been pleasant. Coming from Celestia, it landed with considerably more weight.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Hearing that from you is genuinely an honor."

Lucas glanced at Arista from across the arrangement. He was twenty six. Close to her in age and had reached the fifth core level himself not long ago. His core burned a light gray, cool and controlled.

"We’re at the same level then," he said. There was nothing competitive in it. He was more happy for her. "Then we should spar. After this, when everyone’s done here. We should hit sparring grounds."

Arista’s eyes lit up with immediate interest. She said with wide smile."Sure."

"Good." Arista looked pleased with herself.

"Good that both of you want to test each other’s progress," Aeliana said, and though her voice stayed level there was something quietly approving in it.

Callius turned toward Liana, shifting gears with the ease of someone who moved through conversations without much friction.

"Liana, you’re joining Eternum Academy next month, aren’t you?"

"Yes," Liana replied.

"Then you should talk to Christina before you go. She’ll be entering her third year. Your senior." He gestured toward Christina with a nod. "Ask her anything you want to know. She can answer better than any of us."

Liana turned to Christina.

"Sister Christina, I’d like to ask you a few things about the academy, if you don’t mind."

Christina waved a hand easily. "Of course. Let’s talk after we’re done here though."

"Of course. As you say."

"And don’t forget Azael," Aeliana added, glancing around the group. "He’s entering the academy this year as well."

That landed differently.

The room shifted. A few heads turned to Azael with surprise.

Celestia raised one brow by a fraction.

"I wasn’t aware of that," she said. There was mild surprise in her voice. It was genuine, "I knew that he was cured. But I had the impression he was still... adjusting. To being around people."

"He has changed considerably," Aeliana said. "And there is something else I haven’t mentioned yet." She paused for a brief moment. "He awakened phoenix fire."

Silence that falls over a room when something unexpected has been said and everyone needs a moment to process it.

They had known Azael was cured. That much had reached them. But phoenix fire was something else entirely. That was new information, and the weight of it showed on every face in the room in slightly different ways.

Evan, who had been sitting quietly beside his father with the patient, watchful energy of a child waiting for something interesting to happen, leaned forward with wide eyes.

"Dad." His voice was urgent with six-year-old seriousness. "Is phoenix fire something great?"

Callius looked at his son, and something warm and easy moved across his expression.

"It’s the rarest fire in the world," he said. "Some people call it the Flames of Life. It’s not just strong– it’s unique. There’s nothing else quite like it."

Evan’s blue eyes went wide.

"Wow."

He turned and stared at both Azael and Arista with the kind of open, admiration that only small children deliver without embarrassment.

Azael looked back at him and offered a small, quiet smile.

Celestia’s gaze moved to Azael. Those frost-clear blue eyes settled on him steadily, and even though her expression didn’t shift, there was something different in the quality of her attention. Something sharper and more considered than before.

Azael felt it. He kept his expression even, but something in his chest registered the weight of that gaze instinctively.

"A late bloom," she said. "But a rare one." A brief pause. "Azael. I look forward to seeing your progress."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." He inclined his head. "It’s my honor."

Celestia’s expression moved slightly. Something between mild amusement and mild impatience.

"You don’t need to address me so formally," she said. "We may not be blood related, but by every other measure I am your aunt. You can call me that."

Azael’s lips curved into a calm, easy smile.

"I appreciate that," he said. "But calling Your Majesty ’aunt’ somehow doesn’t feel right either." A brief pause. "Especially when you look far too young and beautiful for the title to make any sense."