Chapter 28

The park was an unusual sight, a lush haven where nature seemed to defy logic. Towering trees intertwined with vibrant flowering vines, while bushes and exotic plants sprouted in places that shouldn't have supported them—stone paths, shaded alcoves, even patches of stone benches. A gentle mist hung in the air, giving it a serene, almost magical atmosphere. X inhaled deeply, letting the clean, crisp air fill his lungs before releasing it with a satisfied sigh.

"Wow, that feels... different," he said, pressing a hand to his chest. "The air here is unnaturally fresh."

Sarandel was scanning the area, her eyes focused as if searching for something in particular. "A dryad lives here. It makes sense—the magic of this place is like the heart of the city," she explained, her tone casual but focused. Suddenly, she paused, staring intently between a cluster of trees. "She's there. Follow me," she instructed, heading off the paved path and into a denser, almost hidden forest grove within the park.

X trailed behind her, pushing aside low-hanging branches. "Wait, dryad? Singular? Didn't you mention there were three?" he asked, ducking under a particularly large branch.

Sarandel glanced back over her shoulder, giving him a look as if he should've already known. "They all live in different parts of the city. Their magic needs to spread evenly across Grealand, and this way they cover more ground."

As they moved deeper into the grove, Sarandel trailed her fingers along the bark of the trees, as if feeling for something. "Right, of course," X muttered, sidestepping a gnarled root.

Eventually, Sarandel stopped in front of a particularly grand oak tree, its bark thick and old, exuding a quiet, ancient energy. She pressed her ear against it, listening.

X raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" he asked, glancing at the tree with mild suspicion, half-expecting it to be some magical illusion.

Sarandel withdrew and answered nonchalantly, "Waking up a sleepy dryad," before knocking on the tree as if it were a door. The entire tree shivered gently, its leaves rustling as if responding to her touch.

From within, a sleepy voice called out, "Who is it?" The feminine voice sounded muffled and groggy, like someone being awoken from a deep slumber. Slowly, out of the canopy, a figure descended.

Her form was ethereal, with pale skin, almost luminous in the light, with chestnut hair flowing down her back in soft waves. Her eyes, a vibrant green, glimmered like the leaves in sunlight, and faint patterns of vines traced delicately along her arms, hinting at her connection to nature. She wore a gown woven from leaves and flowers, but it clung to her figure naturally, accentuating her graceful, human-like appearance. Her beauty was gentle yet undeniable, almost enchanting, though her face was still marked by sleep. In comparison, Sarandel's beauty was more radiant and commanding, exuding a divine allure that was both captivating and overwhelmingly perfect, whereas the dryad's charm was more tranquil and harmonious with her natural surroundings.

X blinked in surprise. "Huh. She looks exactly like what I imagined a dryad would look like," he said with a smirk, watching as Cyrilla rubbed her eyes, still waking up.

"Who are you?" the dryad asked groggily, her voice soft as she floated gently to the ground.

Sarandel crossed her arms, her tone neutral. "Do you not recognize me, Cyrilla?"

The dryad squinted at her, trying to make sense of the figure before her. Then, her eyes widened in realization. "Wait a second..." A bright smile lit up her face as she practically lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Sarandel in a tight embrace. "Auntie!" she exclaimed, her voice suddenly full of energy and excitement.

"Auntie?" X raised an eyebrow, watching the rather one-sided embrace between Cyrilla and Sarandel. The dryad clung tightly to the goddess, while Sarandel seemed unaffected, her expression unchanged.

"Yes, Gaia and I are sisters, which makes Cyrilla my niece," Sarandel explained, gently prying herself free from Cyrilla's grasp. The dryad released her with some reluctance, her bright eyes now fixed on X.

"Why are you here, Auntie?" Cyrilla asked, brushing off the reunion. Then, her gaze shifted back to X, brimming with curiosity. "And who is this?" she added, tilting her head as she examined him closely, her interest clearly piqued.

X offered a smile, though his mask concealed it. "Hello. I'm… X. I work with your aunt," he said, motioning toward Sarandel.

Cyrilla's curiosity only deepened. "Work with her? Are you a god too?" She leaned in closer and suddenly began sniffing him. "You don't smell like one," she remarked, her tone puzzled.

X recoiled slightly, visibly uncomfortable for the first time. "Wha—what the heck?" he muttered, taken aback by her strange behavior.

Before the awkward moment could stretch any further, Sarandel reached over and tugged Cyrilla's ear, pulling her back. "Ow!" Cyrilla winced as her aunt scolded her.

"How many times have I told you not to do that, young lady?" Sarandel said, her voice firm but not unkind.

"I'm 784 years old! I'm not young anymore!" Cyrilla protested, her voice a mix of indignation and childishness.

Sarandel didn't relent, twisting Cyrilla's ear slightly. "Ow, ow! Sorry! I won't do it anymore!" Cyrilla cried, flailing her hands until Sarandel finally let go. The dryad immediately rubbed her ear, pouting in pain.

X crossed his arms, amusement creeping back into his voice. "And here I was thinking dryads would be more… elegant."

Sarandel glanced at him, her tone dry as she replied, "Don't think of my niece as the average dryad. Most, if not all, are far more graceful than her."

Cyrilla pouted harder, glaring at her aunt. X couldn't help but think, *Is she really over 700 years old?* as the dryad whined, "I'm right here, Auntie! Did you come after all this time just to make fun of me?"

Sarandel sighed, shaking her head. "No, Cyrilla. He wanted to meet a dryad, so I brought him here."

X uncrossed his arms, smirking behind his mask. "And I got more than I bargained for," he muttered, eyeing the dryad, who immediately turned her back to them with a childish huff.

"Hmph! Is that really the only reason you came down to visit me?" she asked, her voice carrying that same childish annoyance, though there was a hint of real curiosity in her tone.

"No, we had something else to attend to," Sarandel admitted. "But again, he wanted to meet a dryad, so I figured you'd suffice."

"Something else?" Cyrilla perked up, her playful demeanor fading as she grew serious. "Is it the demons?"

Both Sarandel and X tensed at the mention of demons, their playful banter vanishing in an instant. Sarandel's expression turned deadly serious as she grabbed Cyrilla by the shoulders. "What demons?" she asked, her voice sharp, tension filling the air.

Cyrilla's wide eyes darted between her aunt and X, a nervousness creeping into her voice. "You… didn't know?"

Sarandel closed her eyes for a moment, a wave of frustration briefly flashing across her face before she steadied herself. "I was… away," she said through clenched teeth. Opening her eyes again, they burned with determination. "Cyrilla, I need you to tell me everything you know. Understood?"

Cyrilla nodded quickly, her earlier playfulness gone, replaced by a seriousness that showed she understood the gravity of the situation. "I'll tell you everything."