Chapter 148: The Shelter That Wasn’t
Riley stared in disbelief.
Of all the things to encounter after performing that supposedly legendary tracking blood ritual with the use of one glorious toothbrush, he had not expected this. He had braced himself for a battlefield. He had steeled his nerves for a dungeon, maybe even a cursed chamber crawling with kidnappers and monsters.
And yet here they were.
Still inside Silvara. Standing near a small building that was... under renovation.
A construction site.
"What," Riley muttered flatly, "is this?"
Beside him, Kael stood with his usual calm, golden eyes scanning the area.
"My Lord," Riley pressed, "please tell me this is really the right place."
"Yes."
The curt reply was followed by the faintest twitch of annoyance in Kael’s expression. He elaborated, his tone cool. "It tracks the presence of mana."
"But unlike common rites that only chase after one signal, this one drags out all of them. The faintest, the strongest, the aggressive, the lingering. From afar, it gives only the direction. But up close, it manifests in visible traces for the tracker."
Riley blinked. "So... you see everything?"
Kael’s jaw tensed. "Yes, everything."
He could see everything to the point of annoyance.
Tracking the mana signatures of ancients, for example, was something he would refuse to do even if threatened. Not only did it block vision, but it also flooded everything with distracting and annoying colors.
And yet he not only performed it without coercion, but he even went as far as to steal a toothbrush.
But instead of the twig being thankful for this grace, he even questioned their destination and how they were going to reach this point.
Granted, the human was dizzy from jumping gates and had to cling to him for his puny life, but Kael was sure he’d given more concessions today than he had in the last millennium.
Especially since he clearly hated this method of doing things.
But Riley, who still had a vice grip on him, refused to let go until he got the answer that mattered. "Then, My Lord, if you’re actually seeing everything, why this place?"
Kael, however, did not immediately pry Riley off. For some reason, the dragon lord simply carried him like that, walking forward as if lugging a particularly stubborn bag.
Riley, who had been clinging tightly without thinking, suddenly became very aware of the distance between them. Or rather, the lack of it. Their faces were far too close. He could feel the faint warmth of Kael’s breath when the dragon lord tilted his head, and that was enough for him to stiffen.
"I’ll— I’ll go down," Riley blurted, flustered.
Kael’s golden eyes flicked to him briefly. Then, without argument, he allowed it. Riley slid down awkwardly, his feet hitting the ground faster than his dignity could recover.
Only then did Kael speak, his tone calm but final. "Because this was where it stopped. And for some reason, the mana signatures were confined only to the palace proper, the garden, and this place. There were no traces near their temple."
"Wow," Riley dusted himself off, then breathed, trying to wrap his head around it. "Was he that sheltered?"
"Mn. Elven royalty are normally unregistered until they reach puberty and manifest. Considering the official list of House Elowen, the one missing is certainly a child."
Riley took that in quietly before his brow furrowed.
"But, Sir, if that’s the case, do they also have to live estranged from family?"
Kael gave him a look. "What do you mean?"
Riley gestured around them at the shabby structure. "Well, because isn’t this an orphanage?"
It was really an orphanage, no doubt about it. The question was why the Elven Prince’s mana traces would end here. And more importantly, where was everyone else?
Several possibilities came to mind. Maybe the prince had been adopted. Maybe he had been on a tour. Maybe there had been an accident. But Kael had said the mana signatures overlapped, which meant this was a place the elven child often frequented.
In the end, Riley found his own answer when he noticed a drawing tacked up on the wall.
It showed several children holding hands, surrounding a boy who was a little taller. The details were crude, but one thing was obvious. That boy was always drawn differently. He wore a small cape. His clothes were shaded in colors, unlike the rest.
"My Lord, I think he volunteered here." Riley’s hand hovered near the drawing. He was careful not to touch it, but his brow furrowed as he noticed something else. "Strange. There isn’t much dust."
He swallowed, suddenly uneasy. "Sir, about the orphans—"
"They’re gone too," Kael finished for him, his voice cutting away the hope Riley was trying to cling to.
Riley felt his chest tighten. "Because who would renovate while leaving everyone’s clothes and items?"
He had seen them himself. Small shoes were still lined neatly near the door. Little toys were scattered across the blankets, the kind of trinkets no child would willingly leave behind unless they wanted to have difficulty sleeping.
If that were the case, then this was not just one kidnapping. It was something much larger.
Riley turned to ask Kael for more, but his boss was not looking at him anymore.
The dragon lord was staring out the window.
The orphanage was nestled close to a lazy-looking stream. In any other circumstance, Riley would have admired the view. Trees lined the edges, their leaves whispering softly in the wind. Wildflowers dotted the bank, and the stream’s gentle shimmer looked almost inviting.
But Kael’s face was grim, and Riley did not like the look in his golden eyes.
"My Lord, what’s wrong?"
"The mana signatures. They actually don’t stop here."
"Huh?"
"They stop right there." Kael raised a hand and pointed toward the stream behind the orphanage.
Unable to see the mana signature, the human could only follow the dragon’s pointed hand. His stomach dropped, and a curse slipped past his lips.
The stream.
Ah hell! Anymore of this stinking shit, and he might develop serious issues with taking a simple bath!
They were out of the door in no time, the dragon lord striding ahead with that same steady determination.
But Riley lingered, his stomach churning with unease. His eyes flicked once more to the scattered belongings left behind. The toys on the beds. The tiny shoes lined up against the wall. The colorful drawings still pinned in place.
Would those be "renovated" too?
He hoped not. But then again, he’d hoped for so many things, but considering how that usually turned out, he just reached out and snatched up the small box of crayons.
He thought about taking the toys too, maybe just to soothe his nerves, maybe as some kind of proof that these kids had been here. Had been real. But for some reason, it felt wrong to take those.
The crayons, though. Those would be fine.
Worst-case scenario, if the children were simply away, maybe on some trip or vacation, they would not miss a few pieces of wax.
He stuffed them into his pack, fingers lingering a moment too long on the box before following Kael out into the open.