Cyril froze, thinking about what he just heard from her. (ADD ABOUT WEARING RINGS AND BRACELET)
But if it's not you, then what is this?
He clearly remembered back in that dream that the pile of flesh was trying to communicate with him somehow.
If it was Rhamn, then it could've been easily explained by her dreaming and trying to talk to him during it, but if she says that's not the case...
"Could it be..." Rhamn cautiously started speaking, "Maybe it's your mother?"
...It's possible. The more he thought about it the more sense it made to him.
He already had a guess that his mother was a similar being to him, so she probably also had a very special heart.
We have a connection with Morpho and others, and you can influence them even at a distance, so it would make sense if she could influence me at a distance...
"Are you trying to say that the relationship between you and your mother is the same as between you and Morpho, Atheris, and Tigris?" Rhamn frowned again.
"So what? She 'created' you in a similar way too? No, that seems wrong..."
How else would you explain this then? Cyril argued back. The more he thought about it, the more convinced of this he became.
He sat up in the bath, startling Atheris who was calmly relaxing already.
That must mean that my mother is alive then? Cyril speculated with more energy.
How else would I have those dreams—no, visions?
No longer in the mood to lie in the bath he quickly got up and went to dress up.
"But, everyone you know told you she undoubtedly died... Even Margaret said so" Rhamn still wasn't sure.
They must be lying then, simple as that.
In no time at all he was dressed in his pajamas, and went out of the bath.
Tigris who was still confusedly lying in his wooden bowl, began hastily climbing out too.
...
Walking down the corridor of the villa Cyril took a few deep breaths to calm down.
Before he thought he didn't care, but now that there was a possibility of his mother being alive, he couldn't help but be more energized.
He himself couldn't believe he was acting like that.
Maybe, it's because she might be the same person as me... Cyril felt an unexplainable sense of comradery towards this imaginative person.
Rhamn walked by his side, her face not sharing any of his enthusiasm.
Quickly Cyril reached the door of the servant's room and knocked on it.
Soon Ophelia came out, she still wasn't sleeping at this hour.
"What is, Master? Do you have suggestions for the design?" She asked.
Cyril shook his head, "Not that. Ophelia, do you think my mother is really dead?"
Not expecting such a question at this hour it took some time for her to process it.
"I am certain of that." She carefully replied in the end.
"But how can you be so sure? You said you've never even met her before." Cyril quickly followed up, not understanding her confidence.
"I simply know, I am sorry I can't say more than that. Arthur should be the one to do that." Ophelia bowed in apology, then looked at him with her cold eyes.
"But Master, why are you questioning this now?" clear curiosity tinged within her voice.
Cyril went quiet for a second, debating if he should talk about it. In the end he decided it wasn't necessary to hide this from her of all people.
"Occasionally I get visions of... a being, it tries to communicate with me, and I think that's her" He vaguely replied, not willing to get into details.
The moment these words left his mouth, Ophelia frowned, an uncertain expression slowly appearing on her face, "Did you not hear a voice before this already?"
"No, this is a different one. I don't hear it even, more like 'aware' that it tries to talk, but nothing else" Cyril quickly tried his best to explain.
"A different one..." Ophelia repeated, in her eyes there was an expression that he couldn't quite understand.
After this she went silent, contemplating something.
Cyril awaited her next words, but the longer he waited, the heavier the atmosphere around them seemed to become.
This continued until Tigris, still a bit wet, ran up to them with his short legs.
"Sorry I left you there" Cyril quickly apologized, put his hand on his fur and cast a spell.
Soon a warm current started slowly drying the mighty tiger's fur.
This interruption seemed to shake Ophelia from her trance.
"I am sorry, Master. I don't know what this other being might be, but it's definitely not your mother. And..." She hesitated for a moment before continuing.
"If you start hearing that other voice more clearly, please tell me about it. Let's try to make sense of that together." Ophelia said in a rarely heard few degrees warmer voice.
It was so rarely heard in fact, that it completely stunned Cyril and he could only nod in response.
With this, Ophelia said goodbye, and went back inside of her room.
Cyril stood in place for a few seconds, finishing drying Tigris, then he picked him up, took one last glance at the servant's room, and left.
"She sounded really confident about her death." Rhamn whispered in his ear.
Even if she were killed before my father's very eyes, I still think there might be a possibility of her surviving. Ophelia said earlier as well, this world has countless spells and no one can claim to know them all.
Cyril didn't give up just yet.
Maybe there is a spell that preserved her life...
Besides, she too didn't know what I've seen with my visions.
They slowly reached Cyril's room. He opened the door and entered.
Morpho was still in her terrarium, already sleeping, which was a rare thing for her.
Holding Tigris in his hand, Cyril slowly dropped on the bed. Despite all the mysteries, there were still lessons tomorrow, and he needed his sleep for them.
Rhamn sat on the edge of the bed, she twirled her black hair and cautiously said, "You know. That maid of yours. Her reaction was a bit suspicious to me, it gives me a bad feeling..."
Cyril tiredly sighed and quickly replied, You say that about everyone I meet. I grew up under Ophelia's care, she wouldn't wish me anything bad. You can calm down.
"Alright." Able to see how adamant Cyril felt about this topic, Rhamn quickly dropped it and disappeared.
Appearing after a second on the other side of the bed, similarly dressed ready to sleep.
"Good night"
And so they went to sleep. This time Cyril wanted to get that dream again.