By day's end, Delphia climbed the Tower's winding stairwells, higher and higher, until the path abruptly ended in a flat stretch of stone wall.
She came to a halt, heart thudding—not from exertion, but anticipation.
Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew the paper talisman. Her eyes scanned the faint sigils inked across its surface; A few she recognized as she held it before her and fed it a thread of mana.
A soft glow bloomed from the parchment, pulsing once—then twice—before the air around her shimmered. With a quiet hum, more of the staircase revealed itself, the glamour peeling back like fog under sunlight. The talisman dimmed but held its form. She tucked it away again, just in case.
Delphia glanced upward, then at the dim corridor surrounding the now-visible stairs. It was quiet. Almost reverent. She stepped forward, each footfall echoing faintly as she climbed.
She passed a landing—and then paused.
A nameplate gleamed against a dark wooden door: Heir Thorne.
She stopped, took two steps back, and stood before it.
The door was carved, elegant, understated. It looked untouched, like it had been waiting.
Delphia inhaled slowly. Then again. On the third breath, she lifted her hand and knocked—confidently, crisply.
Silence.
Then: "It's open," came a voice from the other side.
She exhaled. Shoulders squared. Another breath steadied her. Then she turned the knob and stepped inside.
The heavy, ornate wood door of Zypher's study clicked shut behind Delphia, the quiet thud sealing the both of them in the room. It was a private space—one that few were ever allowed to enter, it seemed. The shelves were lined with books on magical theory and compilation tomes of arcane knowledge, a testament to Zypher's unbound genius.
Delphia stood near the door for a moment, surveying the space before her eyes flicked to him. The dim light from the arcane lights above cast flickering shadows, giving the room an intimate and almost secretive feel.
A few candelabras were lit around the room, interspersing the dark that lingered in the corners. He sat at the gathering area set up adjacent to his desk, in a high-backed chair, his maroon eyes watching her with a mixture of something… else—something heavier, more meaningful; A goblet rested next to him that he seemed to be there a while. She wasn't sure what he exactly meant by doing this, which direction this would go.
She could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable. They had been circling each other for weeks now, engaging in their game of flirtatious quips and careful deflection. But today, the mood felt different, slightly oppressive.
"Take a seat," Zypher said softly, gesturing to the settee across from him. "I would like to talk."
Delphia raised an eyebrow but complied, crossing the room and settling into the middle across from him, its cushions plush beneath her bottom, while the fabric smelled faintly of the incense he burned in this room, that also clung to his body. Being so high up in the tower, this room did in fact have some windows in it, and a small window in the room was slightly ajar; Which lessened the overall smell, but she still found it delightful and calming for her nerves.
She maintained an unruffled front, though her heart was beating a little faster than usual. There was something in Zypher's tone that made her feel like this was no ordinary conversation.
He adjusted his posture in the chair, finding a comfortable position to begin. For a moment, he said nothing, just watching her as if weighing his options. Then after a beat, with a quiet exhale, he spoke.
"I haven't been able to shake this feeling I have," he began, his voice low and soothing, something very pleasant to listen to.
"…for a while now." He was scanning her from top to bottom before settling on her eyes.
Delphia tilted her head slightly forward, feigning innocence, "Oh? Do tell." Her tone was neutral but a smile curled one corner of her lips.
"You're not…" He began. But then, Zypher's gaze sharpened on her. "You."
The word hung in the air between them and Delphia felt her stomach drop, though she kept her expression light and unaffected. A sense of unease churned in her gut as she gazed at Zypher, his piercing stare seeming to see right through her. Her muscles tightened subconsciously and she willed herself to relax.
"What do you mean?" She asked cautiously, already bracing for the worst.
"You've changed," he stated firmly, challenging her to deny it. "Not on the surface, but deep down. It's something fundamental."
Delphia maintained a ghost of a smile on her lips, inside though, her mind was panicking; But, she wouldn't admit to anything until he cornered her directly. Keeping her breathing steady, she took a breath before speaking.
"I've matured, Zypher. Change is usually the result that follows."
Zypher let out a soft, humorless laugh, deciding to attack directly.
"No, you're not the Delphia I knew. The one I remember was... let's say, a bit more: impulsive," He ticked a finger on his hand, counting.
"Eruptive," Two.
"Reckless," Three.
"And, wouldn't you know it—a tail on the Crown Prince trying to garner his affection."
Four. Clearly, he had studied the original Delphia well.
"But, now?" He questioned, pausing a moment in his speech to look at her. "You've become calm, withdrawn from everything, yet calculating and immensely knowledgable. And then there's the way you look at me."
Delphia's eyes flickered, but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"You look at me as if you actually like me," he said, leaning forward slightly, his gaze piercing.
"Someone who has hated me from the moment she met me five years ago, is interested in me?" His question trailed off as he just stared at Delphia, his eyes flickering up and down her form once more as if he was looking for something.
"Where did all that resentment go, Delphia?"
The inflection of his voice did not change once; Still slow, still soothing, still pleasant. His question hung there as he stared at her on the settee, she refused to budge and leveled her gaze at him.
"What exactly are you getting at, Zypher?" Delphia finally asked, evading the main question. "If I do like you—does the break the rules?" She quickly followed her previous question with this, smirking as she challenged him.
A small smile broke out on his face too after hearing the question.
"See. That is what I'm talking about. Four months ago you barely deigned me with a response that wasn't snippy, now you're openly flirting with me." Absentmindedly, he ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes, something adding to his allure without intention. "Of course you are allowed to like me, I'm not saying that."
He finished then took a small sip of his drink next to him.
"What I am getting at, is that I'm nearly absolutely certain... that something happened to you. Something possibly similar to what happened… to me."
The already silent room grew even quieter, the tension becoming almost tangible. The ticking of a clock on the wall seemed to echo loudly in the space, the only other sound was the collective breathing of those present.
Delphia felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart skipping a beat.
He was just a normal Villain, I'm positive of that! What the hell could have happened to him?
Zypher sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I died," he said, his voice calm as he spoke. "Three-and-a-half months ago—at a different point in time—I died, and then I woke up… in my younger body, on November 28th, 1552." This time he took a larger pull of his drink, watching her reaction intently.
Delphia stared at him, her brain crashing and now rebooting.
She had known Zypher was different—had sensed it in their interactions—but hearing him confirm it was another thing entirely. He had regressed, just as she had transmigrated. They were both anomalies in this world now, people who were given a second chance.
Zypher's eyes were unflinching as he spoke.
"I'm not sure what caused this phenomena to happen, but I know for a fact that I died; There was no way to survive what had happened to me. And since I 'woke up,' events have been matching themselves exactly as I remember, except for one... You."
He paused and straightened himself in the chair before speaking.
"You're not acting like you were at all previously. And while you may have spun tale that everyone seems to believe, I don't buy it. Something happened to you for you to change so abruptly."
Delphia leaned back on the settee, body finally relaxing, her hands falling to her sides as she started tapping the fingers of her right hand against the cushion as she considered her next move.
She knows for a fact that The Rose of Avalon never mentioned or advertised anything about Zypher being a regressor, so this is completely new. And the fact that both their events happened at the same time, that's too big of a thing to be a coincidence. She regarded him across from her, his physical appearance like a roman painting, how his eyes were earnest even though what he was saying was unbelievable, and thought for a moment.
He's way too perceptive, but I don't see the need to lie anymore if he's already figured this much out… I don't think telling him the truth will hurt anything.
"I don't doubt what happened to you." She started, and Zypher's eyebrows rose. "I believe that anything is possible, and I also believe that your intuition is abnormal." Delphia said steadily, her voice calm but firm as a small smile ghosted her lips
"I'm not the Delphia you knew, because... I'm not the original Delphia."
Zypher didn't move. The silence stretched, heavy and strange. For the first time, they were no longer adversaries. Just two should-be-dead people, meeting in the flesh.