CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Seventeen Letters and Seven Silent Years
"The world changed. So did I. Slowly. Like the way morning sunlight creeps across your room."
đď¸ A Morning That Felt Like Memory
The envelope was ivory, thick as silk, its edges embossed with a gold sigil that shimmered faintly in the light. Lavender clung to the paper like a memory.
Velmir sat at his desk in the sunlit study, hands resting gently atop it, unmoving.
The sunlight slanted through the tall windows, casting pale warmth across his sky-blue hair, now grown longer and tied loosely at the nape. The mansion hummed with quiet preparationâgarden drones trimming vines, glass doors gliding open for ocean air.
But inside, he was still.
His eyes, ageless and calm, stared at the envelope as if it were the hinge between two worlds.
It wasn't his birthday. Not yet.
But it would be soon. Seventeen.
Seven years since his soul had settled into this body. Seven years since a voice in the voidâGreat Sageâhad whispered him awake. Seven years of silence, mischief, music, koi, spreadsheets, and trying to understand how a dragon learns to be human.
He turned the envelope once in his fingers and whispered, "Begin with the first."
đ§ The Voice That Never Left
"Would you like to proceed with delivery?"
Great Sage's voice rang inside his mind, calm as always, with that subtle tilt of curiosity.
Velmir smiled faintly. "Let's take it slow. I want to remember who they are."
"Understood, Velmir."
There was a time when hearing that voice had felt surrealâwhen dying on a sidewalk in New York had still clung to his mind like soot. But now, it was just part of him. Familiar.
Comforting.
He drew out a sheet of parchment, dipped his pen into ink scented faintly with bergamot, and wrote the first name.
âď¸ Mina Alcott
Her name curled into place with a flourish. Velmir smiled without realizing it.
"The hurricane of chaos," he murmured aloud. "The one who made me eat chili gummies and once said my eyes looked 'illegal on a child's face.'"
Mina was the first to call him weird and mean it as affection.
Invitation:
"Dear Chaos Incarnate,
I'll be seventeen. You still owe me for the glitter incident. There will be cake. Possibly fire. Please bring neither uninvited frogs nor chewing gum with legs.
â Velmir."
âď¸ Julian Marrow
The hacker. The strategist. The introvert who saw numbers in people and trusted Velmir before understanding him.
"He never asked what I was. Just asked if I wanted to play chess."
Invitation:
"Bring your sarcasm. I'll bring better cake this time. No shrimp pranks. Promise."
He paused.
"âŚMaybe."
âď¸ Mr. Brooks â The History Teacher
A man who looked at Velmir the same way one might regard an unmarked artifact: fascinated, respectful, and just a little unnerved.
"He told me I had the soul of a fallen king. I told him I preferred tea to thrones."
Invitation:
"You taught me empires. Come see mine. It has koi and sparkling water."
âď¸ Principal Margol
The woman who once tried to expel him because he scored higher than the grading software could process. Later, she started leaving welcome letters on his desk without explanation.
"She never said sorry. But she changed the rules."
Invitation:
"Still not a fake student. Still very real. There'll be jazz."
âď¸ A Memory, Quiet as Smoke
The koi pond was still that morning. Velmir stood beside it, a scroll in his hand, fingers ghosting across its ribbon tie.
He thought of her.
Of Natasha.
She'd vanished one morning, without announcement. Just a faint indentation on the couch cushion and an untouched cup of tea.
But he remembered: the way she looked back. Just once.
And that was enough.
He wrote the message slowly, his pen scratching with deliberate silence.
To the human who never asked what I was, but saw me anyway.
I saved a seat. Come or don't. You'll always be welcome.
No encryption. No demand.
Just an open door.
"Send it," he said.
"Message delivered to dormant SHIELD node. No bounce," Great Sage replied.
He smiled.
"That's enough."
âď¸ The Ancient One
Velmir held this invitation longer than the rest. Her visit had been briefâa single afternoon, one teacup, and an expression that said: I've seen what you'll become. And I'm not afraid.
"She didn't ask questions. Only drank in silence."
Invitation:
"To the one who drinks time like chamomile:
Should the moment align, your presence is invited. There will be laughter, stardust, and cake that defies entropy.
â V."
âď¸ Tony Stark
Velmir chuckled just writing the name.
Tony had always called him "Elven Prince" with one eyebrow raised. Never asked what he was. Probably didn't care.
But he nodded once, years ago, after Velmir disassembled a Stark drone and handed it back with the manual edited.
No questions. Just mutual mischief.
Invitation:
"To the man who thinks I'm an alien and has never been more correct:
Sushi, sarcasm, and at least one fire hazard. 7 PM sharp. Bring something snarky."
đ°ď¸ The Pond and the Dragon
By late afternoon, the last of the letters were goneâflown, encrypted, sealed by magic or drone.
Velmir sat beside the koi pond again. His older form nowâtaller, older than his school records claimed. His wings invisible, but folded in the way one folds dreams.
The water moved with the wind, not memory. But his voice, when he spoke, sounded like both.
"I've lived lives with monsters, gods, and voids."
His gaze drifted to the sky, soft and pale.
"But nothing ever taught me more than seven years of⌠this. Cooking. Piano. Learning to lose. Learning to forgive myself."
He looked down at his reflection. Sky-blue hair. Calm eyes. A smile that had taken seven years to feel natural.
"Sometimes I still feel like I'm acting. Like Rimuru's shadow wears my smile."
He let the thought pass.
Then spoke againâquieter.
"But I like being Velmir Elvaris."
"And one day," he added, almost to the wind, "the world will know what that means."
[END OF CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: SEVENTEEN LETTERS AND SEVEN SILENT YEARS]