Soon, the cold wind blows the thick, opaque clouds into the horizon as the sky becomes a gradient painting of blue and orange. As the sunset settles, Layla and Amelia gather on the porch and sit on polished wooden chairs with carves and mouldings. As they gaze across the damp street, they enjoy tea while conversing.

"I can't believe that kids these days study for eight years," said Layla.

Amelia took a sip from her tea. "I know. Back in our days, we only had four years of education," she said.

"Imagine. What if kids in the future study for fifteen years?" Layla shook her head.

"Oh, am I not just glad that we are born early?" Amelia smirked.

"I'm not," Layla stated as she exhaled through her nose.

"Oh..." Amelia's gaze softened as she slowly took a delicate sip of her tea.

Layla blew out a deep breath through her mouth. "I want to thank you once again for agreeing to do this. I know you will miss your family... not being able to see them for years only to educate that... adopted kid of ours."

"Aw, no! Do not worry! I can send them some letters instead," Amelia said. Suddenly, she gasped and questioned Layla. "Oh, wait! That kid. Oliver. He... he isn't your biological son...?"

"Yes. Alexander and I are infertile. Thus, we don't have the physical capability to bear a child. So, we have no choice but to adopt one," Layla explained with a deep, monotonous voice. "...Then, we heard that there was a Podeshire in the adoption centre, and no one had taken him yet because people were afraid to adopt him, so we took our opportunity and brought that kid as our own."

"Why were people afraid to adopt him?" Amelia inquired as she placed her teacup on a round table.

"Remember, his family got assassinated—his whole family! He was also supposed to die. But he was lucky enough to survive. So, think about this... what if the assassins are looking for him to finish their job? What if those assassins find that Podeshire living among us? Would his adoptive family get harmed as well...?" Layla leaned closer to Amelia's face as her voice slowly became faint at each word.

"Oh, good grace... y-you're right. But, since you adopted Oliver, aren't you scared? What if those assassins find him living amongst you all...?" Amelia asked as she placed a palm before her lips.

"No worries. We faked our address on the forms when we adopted that kid! And those assassins won't even recognize him once he is old enough," Layla said. "Besides, we do not even let him go outside."

"Aww... you're such a caring and protective mother..." Amelia thought.

"Oh, no, no, no... we are not letting him go outside—not because we are afraid that he might get killed by the assassins. We only do not want him to have a friend that he might gossip about how we toil him," Layla clarified with a smirk.

"Oh..." Amelia forced herself to form a smile as her glance fell onto the ground.

     Layla gazed at the sky. As the sun began to sink into the horizon, its golden beams of sunlight danced across the atmosphere, reflecting vibrant, warm colours in Layla's eyes. She stared at the heavens, watching the clouds turn thin each second.

"...Is your daughter reserved?" Layla asked while gazing at the sky.

"My daughter? Sophia...?" Amelia grabbed her teacup and looked at Layla.

"Yes," Layla nodded. "Do you think she can marry that Podeshire kid?"

Amelia started panting. Her smile reached her ears as she placed the teacup back on the table. "R-really!? Really!?"

"Well, I am the one who is asking you..." Layla bit her lips and glanced at Amelia.

"My child!? My child will be part of the Podeshire lineage!?" Amelia grinned as she gave her keen answer. "Of course! Yes!"

"Also, their children will inherit that kid's elemental powers," Layla whispered into Amelia's ear.

"T-that's amazing!" Amelia stuttered.

"Do you know what that means?" Layla asked.

"What?" Amelia tilted her head and smirked.

"More children to command!" Layla chuckled.

"Oh..." Amelia sighed as her gaze lowered.

     The sun has completely set from the horizon. The dim ambience of the street lamps gives the area an eerie sight. Clouds shroud the moon from the sky, casting a darker shadow around the place.

     Inside the adoption centre where the Remaining Podeshire formerly resided, a young blonde caregiver at the front desk read a novel while leaning on a wall. Alone and busy reading, she felt immersed in her imagination, placing her into a state of unawareness. She stared at the writings as she leaned the book closer to her face.

     Suddenly, a tingling sensation dashed across the caregiver's nerves. Every hair in her skin rose. Her insides then trembled like a volcano. She quickly lowered the book from her face and scanned the clear windows with bright red curtains. She looked back and forth, seeing no one.

     Neglecting her feelings, the caregiver pushed aside her fear and resumed reading her book. She then pulled up a seat at the front desk and sat on it. As she folded the pages, figures began to pass by the windows, but she didn't notice them.

     A sudden, sharp knock hit a window on the caregiver's left side and startled her. She jumped from her seat and gasped, frozen in place as she stared through the glass of darkness. She then gathered her courage and slowly approached the window.

     As the caregiver peeked through the window, a vent on the ceiling silently opened, and a pair of legs slid through. The caregiver remained scanning the empty dim streets through the crystal-clear glass. Distracted by the loud, passing carriages, she failed to hear a tall, broad body slithering through the vent hole.

     Whoever was in the ceiling's vent finally leapt to the floor and landed quietly; his feet didn't produce a stomp. The man straightened his back as he glared at the clueless caregiver. With a quick yank, he snatched a pistol from his black coat's pocket and aimed at the caregiver.

     The caregiver overheard the noise behind her. She glanced at the window and saw a man's reflection on the glass. Fear rushed down her spine, knowing someone was behind her. She embraced her book on her chest and closed her eyes, refusing to turn around.

     The man was none other than the same person who entered the adoption centre to seek the Remaining Podeshire. His hair began to turn grey like ash as wrinkles crept on his skin like a vine. Nonetheless, he masked his lower face with a black cloth as his eyes glowed like the ocean under the sunlight.

"Come here... now!" the man ordered as he pointed the pistol at the caregiver.

The caregiver quickly raised her hands and dropped her book as she slowly turned around and faced the man. Tears glistened in her eyes as she begged, "Please, don't kill me..."

"I won't..." said the man. "I just need you to be quiet... okay?"

She nodded. "Hm..."

"I just need to ask you a few questions," the man whispered loudly.

"Alright... alright." Her body quivered in fear.

"...Do you know... Oliver Podeshire?" the man asked.

Quickly nodding, she answered. "...Yes."

"He used to be here. That means you have his record?"

"...Yes..." she hesitated to utter, but fear demanded her to speak.

"...Give me his current address, now...!" he said, restraining his voice.

     Immediately complying, the caregiver steps towards the front desk and opens a drawer filled with books and envelopes. She snatches a record book out. Then, she turns the pages with haste.

"What. Is. His. Address!?" the man asked with a deep voice, slowly losing patience.

"...It's block six of Everstreet, s-section two, City of Asbranne!" she read anxiously.

The man snatched the book from her hand and ripped off a page. "...That's it. Be still..." he remarked.

     No more replies come out of the man's mouth. He immediately proceeds to the front door, leaving the woman feeling guilty, afraid and confused. The doorway slams shut, sending a wave of echo across the lobby.