This evening, the Hydral Manor was enveloped in an extraordinary tranquility.
The lord of the manor, accompanied by his lady, had planned a brief sojourn to the Lost Sea.
The servants, too, conducted themselves with impeccable decorum, remaining within their quarters. Mr. Flamelle, ever considerate, had ensured his son was afforded ample space for solitude.
Ansel lay on the sofa, engrossed in a tome whose ancient, gold-embossed script testified to the preciousness of the knowledge it contained.
"The Flamefeast, divine beings marked by 'fire,' symbolize not merely the power of the [essence]. "
"The [Fire], owned by the Flamefeast, constitutes the [Source Flame],which they alone can wield and control, representing the [Foundation of All]."
"Therefore, the Flamefeast, nourished by the Source Flame, possess the power to dismantle anything, even the abyssal essence of Hydral itself, turning it into their sustenance."