“Still fishing, I see!” Alishem’s voice was, as always, brisk, almost teasing. “What’s the point of a rod when you could drain the lake and just collect the catch?”

  The fisherman didn’t turn. He stood on the wooden pier, intently watching the barely perceptible quiver of the fishing line.

  “Alishem…” he replied calmly. “That wouldn’t be interesting…”

  “Good to see you, Nerey!” the Lord of Flame said warmly.

  Nerey slowly laid his rod on the pier and stood. His movements were unhurried, precise, as if he had nowhere to rush, just as water feels no hurry on a calm surface. He was a tall, stately man with an almost immovable posture.

  “And you, Alishem,” the Lord of the Seas said with a slight smile, brushing a long, fallen strand of dark hair from his face. “To what do I owe the visit?”

  “What, do I need a reason to visit an old friend?” Alishem laughed.

  “Four thousand years have passed…” Nerey replied with unflappable apathy. “So, there is definitely a reason.”

  Alishem scratched the back of his head.

  “Um… well…” Alishem hesitated, but remembering why he was here, grew serious. “You’re right.”

  Nerey smirked. He had been expecting this meeting.

  Like the other Lords, he had felt the changes—almost imperceptible, yet inexorable.

  “So, what’s the reason? Is it related to the Rift in Fargon?” he asked calmly.

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  The Lord of the Seas was as calm as the surface of the lake on a windless day. He had never been hot-tempered—unlike Alishem and Bark. His power didn’t shout, didn’t strain to break free. Calm as a calm, and as dangerous as a storm.

  Before him stood his polar opposite—the Lord of Flame. Not a rival. But the mere fact of this meeting stirred a faint, unfamiliar anxiety in Nerey’s soul.

  "Even here…" Alishem thought, glancing around the serene meadow where a quiet lake lay like a puddle. "Nerey felt it…"

  “Partly,” Alishem began seriously.

  “So my feelings weren’t deceiving me,” Nerey nodded. “The mana is returning.”

  “That’s only half the trouble…” the Lord of Flame said with a sigh.

  Alishem raised his head and met the gaze of a sea abyss—quiet and calm, yet mighty and profound. The azure eyes of the Lord of the Sea shimmered with all shades of blue, like the sea’s surface in sunlight. His gaze never pressed, never burned, but it felt unsettling: he saw too much and too deeply.

  Nerey exhaled, and a faint smile crossed his face.

  “Well then, brother, let’s go to the house—you can tell me there,” the Lord said, falling into step beside Alishem.

  Nerey’s house stood right on the lake shore—simple, unremarkable, as if deliberately dissolving between the forest and the water. A quiet place, matching its owner’s character.

  “I see…” — having heard the story, Nerey rose from his armchair and walked to the window.

  The sun was already slowly sinking behind the crowns of the trees surrounding the lake, like sentinels guarding something ancient and important. Twilight was descending upon the serene and quiet valley.

  “What do you say, brother?” the Lord of Flame asked after a pause.

  For a few more seconds, Nerey silently studied the landscape, as if trying to memorize every branch, every leaf, every ripple on the lake’s surface—as if bidding them farewell.

  “What is there to say?” the Lord finally said, turning to his brother. “If there is no other way… then there is no choice.”

  Alishem exhaled; the stone pressing on his heart momentarily felt lighter, yet at the same time pressed down even harder than before.

  He slowly rose from his chair and also approached the window.

  “It’s beautiful here,” Alishem said quietly.

  Nerey only nodded silently, returning his gaze, dimmed in the twilight, back to the treetops.