Chapter 114 The Strange Becomes Stranger

Chapter 114 The Strange Becomes Stranger
Seraph’s POV

“Seraph,” my mother said softly, reaching for my hand before I could stand. “Before I say this, I need you not to worry. And please… don’t panic.”

My stomach tightened instantly. That is never a good way to start anything.
She drew in a breath like she didn’t even know where to begin.

“Your father… he’s gone to see someone. I— I don’t even know how to explain this properly. Strange things have been happening in the village for a long time now. Since after you left.”
I blinked.

“After I left?” I repeated slowly, like she had just slapped me with a piece of beef, but she nodded and continued.

“Yes. People started… disappearing. At first, it was small things. Rumors. But then someone close to us went missing. Just… gone.”
I stared at her, waiting patiently for her to continue, but when she wouldn’t, I spoke.

“I don’t understand.”

She stood, moved closer, then sat in the chair beside me. She took my hand in both of hers and rubbed her thumb across my knuckles the way she used to when I was a child afraid of storms.

“Oh, my child,” she whispered. “I am so sorry. I know how much he meant to you.”

My chest felt hollow. What is she talking about? I started to shake my head slowly, dreading whatever she would say next.

“I don’t understand,” I said again.
Her voice broke.

“Riko. Riko Sett.”

The name hung in the air between us. I waited for something inside me to collapse.
For grief, shock, or rage. But instead, a wave of guilt washed over me.

My face didn’t move. My heart didn’t lurch as much as it should have. It was like she had just told me the weather had changed and the roof might come off with the wind, not like the world was crashing down on me.

“Oh,” I said. Just that.
Oh.

A tear slipped down her cheek like she's watching me fall apart.

“I knew how close you two were,” she continued. “But he’s been missing for a while now. And… we’ve come to believe he isn’t coming back.”

Her fingers tightened around mine.

“Riko is dead.”

Silence. My brain had gone into a mode where I had to decide between panic and relief and world-crushing guilt for not feeling sadder.
Maybe it’s because I’ve known about his death, but still… still.

“That’s why I was so surprised when I saw you. When the others see you, they’ll be just as shocked as I was. Maybe seeing you is hope that he would return too—”

“No, Mom,” I interrupted gently.
She looked at me, and I did what I could to hold her gaze.

“No. I understand. I don’t think Riko is coming back. Ever.”

That surprised her.

I saw it flicker across her face—confusion first, then something like reconciliation.

“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s such a tragedy. He was such a good person.”
I nodded. He was. The best person.
My chest felt tight, but not from grief.

From something else. From the way everything was unfolding wrong.
I exhaled slowly and pushed myself up from the couch.

“I think I’d like to wash up a little.”

“Of course,” she said quickly. “Your father is still at Riko’s house, comforting his father. It’s been hard on him. He goes there from time to time.”
I frowned slightly, then nodded curtly.

“Alright.”

I walked down the hallway toward my room. The door creaked the same way it always had.
But when I stepped inside, I stopped.

It looked… lived in. Not abandoned, which it actually was.

The bed was neatly made, but the sheets were newer. The desk had been polished. There were books stacked on it that I didn’t recognize. A mirror hung where there had never been one before.

It looked like I had been here. Like I had never left.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and let the silence press against my ears.

When did my village become this?

It wasn’t bigger exactly.

But it felt… structured. Refined.
Like it had grown into something else while I was gone. Or like I had never been gone at all.
The thought made my throat tighten.
No.

I shook my head. I was in Lydian.
I remember the air. The castle. The tournament. The blood.

The smell of smoke. I remember Anzel and the sound of—

I stood abruptly and went to the washroom.
The hot water scalded my skin, but I welcomed it. I needed to feel something real. Something sharp.

Steam fogged the mirror.

I watched my reflection blur and reform.
When I stepped back into my room and opened the wardrobe, I almost jumped away in surprise.

White tunics.
Black tunics.
Structured pants.

Fitted sleeveless gowns.

The same type of clothing I wore in Lydian.
I ran my fingers across the fabric slowly.
Why would these be here?
Unless—

A theory began forming in my mind.
What if I didn’t leave?
What if—
No.

No, that’s insane.

I dressed anyway. A fitted sleeveless gown that hugged my waist but wasn’t too long. My hair I tied back the way I used to before everything changed.

Before sacrifice. Before Anzel.
I stepped toward the window. Mom was outside, talking to someone—a lean, dark man in uniform. A guard.

I didn’t recognize him.

When I stepped outside, he noticed me immediately.

He smiled politely, then bowed.
Bowed.

My stomach twisted. That was not normal. I was used to respect in Lydian. Used to being watched. Acknowledged.

But here?

Here it felt excessive and unnecessary.

I turned to my mother after he left.

“Mom… what really happened here? I was gone for a while. I feel like everything has changed.”
She smiled—almost proudly.

“So many things have changed, Seraph. You wouldn’t believe it.”

That didn’t answer anything.

“Why don’t you walk around a little?” she suggested gently. “It might help you feel…
reacquainted. Settled.”

Right. Settled. Like I was the one out of place.

I nodded in agreement.

“Alright. I’ll look around.”

Her eyes scanned me from head to toe. Hair tied back. Posture straight. Clothes fitted.
Almost approving, she waved lightly as I stepped away, leaving me alone.
I fell into step, and just a few steps from our lawn, I could feel how much wider the streets appeared.

And much cleaner.

More people moved about than I remembered. Conversations hushed slightly when I passed.

I had a very strong feeling that nothing here was even remotely as it used to be.
And then I stopped walking.

Because standing directly in front of me—
Face to face—

Was the priest who had sentenced me to… exile on the night of my sacrifice.

The same priest who stood over me and bound me with that spell.

He looked older. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as they met mine. Not a hint of fear or shame or even guilt.

Then he smiled heartily.

And in that moment, with the way he looked at me—
It felt like I had never been sentenced to death by these people.