Joel stood at the edge of the forest, silent, his gaze fixed on the empty path that led to the village. After watching Alicia and her companions disappear, he waited only long enough to be sure they were far enough away, before returning to his home.

  As he re-entered his home, he felt something different in the air. It wasn't a gust of wind or a change in temperature... it was a strange sensation, a kind of muted contentment that seemed to emanate from the walls, the floor... the statue? Joel frowned, walking slowly to the center of the main room. Nana, as always, remained inert at the large table, but Joel couldn't help but sense something alive in her presence, a kind of muted tension, as if something very important had happened, which left the statue very satisfied with the outcome.

  He decided not to say anything to Nana, as her emotional swings have been completely erratic since her creation, and at this point, Joel doesn't know if it means anything important or not. He instead headed toward the basement door, unlocking the lock and opening it so the children could leave.

  "You can come out," he said loudly.

  A few moments later, he heard the soft sound of children's footsteps coming upstairs. Ariel emerged first, full of energy, closely followed by her silent older brother.

  As soon as she saw the iron statue, Ariel ran toward it without a second thought. "Nana!" she exclaimed happily, as if greeting a friend. "You look happier than usual. Satisfied? Did you enjoy the visits?" Haaaa now I understand, the visits were delicious… delicious?

  Joel slowly raised his head. "What did you say?"

  Aria turned to him with a smile. "Nana says the visit was delicious. Especially the tall man who accompanied the young woman who spoke to you. She says she'd like more visits like that."

  Joel stood completely still. His expression didn't show fear, but something harder to define: confusion and recognition. As if a puzzle piece had turned in his mind, fitting in with others he hadn't wanted to look too closely at until now.

  "Did you hear her say that?" he asked the girl.

  Ariel shook her head. "No. I just... knew. Nana tells me things without words... and I understand."

  Joel shifted his gaze to the statue. It remained the same as always: in its position and making no sound. But something about it, something intangible, seemed to emit a feeling that said it was pleased. He remained silent for a long time, watching Ariel as she stroked the statue's metallic surface, as if there really was someone inside, someone listening to her.

  Until now, Joel had always attributed this supposed "connection" to the fertile imagination of a girl who had experienced so much trauma in such a short time. The emotions that the statue seemed to emanate, Joel could feel them too, but he never associated them with a real, overly complex consciousness.

  He ran his hand over his chin, thoughtful. What if I'm wrong? What if Ariel isn't imagining anything?

  For months, he'd accepted the strangeness of the house. He'd convinced himself that the building was somehow alive, shaped by something beyond his understanding. But he never wanted to fully confront that idea. He didn't want to accept that something could be linked to him, or worse, born from him.

  "Ariel..." he finally said, his voice low.

  The girl turned her face toward him, smiling. "Yes?"

  Joel took a few steps closer, until he was directly across the table. "When you talk to Nana... how do you do it?"

  Aria shrugged. "Nana says it's something special between us... that she's tried to do the same thing with you and Liam, but only I can understand her. I don't know how I do it. It just... happens."

  Joel frowned. "And has it always been like this with you?"

  The girl hesitated, lowering her voice a little. "Ever since I lived with Mom and Dad, I've felt things... with animals, or trees. But never like with Nana. With her, it's very clear... and I always know what she's saying."

  Joel nodded, though inside, a nagging suspicion was beginning to settle in his mind. He'd heard of rare abilities, natural exceptions. Could Aria be one of those exceptions? Someone capable of directly interpreting magical impulses or emotions as a kind of language?

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  "Can you ask her something for me?" he said to the girl.

  "Of course! She understands us perfectly; the hard part is understanding her," Ariel clarified.

  "Ask her... if she did anything to the visitors. If she affected them in any way."

  Ariel placed both hands on the statue's metal base. She closed her eyes and began to focus on the emotions that began to radiate from Nana. After a minute, Aria opened her eyes, revealing a look of surprise and a bit of confusion.

  "Nana says she fed," she said calmly. "She didn't really harm them. She just took a little... of their blood. She says it was to strengthen herself."

  Joel felt a chill run down his spine. "Blood?"

  The girl nodded. "She says she can feel the power inside those who have been in the house... and several of those who entered recently had that power in their blood. She says she needs it to grow."

  Joel took a step back, processing the revelation. Everything was starting to fall into place. Paul's strange behavior and the two guards, who seemed more nervous than when he'd almost confronted them before entering the house. He remembers seeing Paul's face show a more pronounced pallor at the end of the visit, but he never thought it had actually been drained by the statue.

  But there were important questions: Why did Nana need wizard blood to grow? Did she and the house inherit many more traits from him than he'd initially thought?

  He looked at Nana, motionless on her pedestal. A rather simple iron figure, but with an aura that seemed to give her details that only someone alive could possess. And he thought, "What if my difficult experiences and the dreams of other people's lives ended up shaping something very special? A creature, a mixture of statue, house, wizard, and nightmare."

  Joel ran a hand over his face, feeling his chest grow heavier, pondering the future complications he would face in trying to control Nana and her tendency to suck the blood of anyone who dared to enter the house. And in the midst of all this, there was a little girl who, for reasons neither she nor the statue fully understood, could understand the latter's language.

  He didn't have answers to anything at the moment, but at least now there was a way to find them. With Aria's help, Joel managed to establish more or less clear communication with Nana, something that until then had seemed impossible. The emotions translated by the little girl flowed with surprising precision, allowing him to maintain a prolonged conversation with the entity controlling the house.

  For hours they talked, if you could even call it talking. Joel discovered that Nana was not only conscious, but deeply intelligent. Her thoughts were cold, structured, almost mathematical… but imbued with a primitive, brutal, and ruthless logic. He knew that the statue was not only the core of the house, but the very heart of a much larger system. A living, magical, ever-expanding structure.

  And most disturbingly, Nana was dangerous. Within the domain of the house, her abilities bordered on the absurd. In her own words—translated by Aria as a mixture of pride and certainty—she was perfectly capable of taking on mages of Paul's caliber… and perhaps even more powerful ones. As long as they were under her roof, they were under her rule. She controlled the walls, the air, the shadows, even the senses of her visitors. Joel then understood what Paul had felt that afternoon: it wasn't pretty at all.

  But that wasn't the most disturbing thing. Nana confirmed that her growth, her evolution, depended on the blood of mages. The stronger the mage, the greater the energy she could absorb. That blood fueled not only her consciousness, but the entire structure she controlled. Every drop silently stolen helped extend her domain, sharpen her senses, and harden her defenses. It was a cycle, a dark but efficient form of evolution, very similar to what mages do in general.

  Joel, alarmed, couldn't help but ask why she never took his blood, or the children's. The answer came with terrifying calm:

  "Your blood is useless," Aria said, repeating in a monotone what Nana had told her. "The blood of the creator is equal to that of the house, so nothing new is shared. Besides, an individual's blood is only good for once."

  Joel felt some relief knowing that his blood hadn't and wouldn't be drained without his consent. But the question remained about the other inhabitants of the house. "And the children?"

  Ariel spoke again. "We haven't fully awakened our magic yet, and we're not at the appropriate level."

  He lowered his gaze. That implied they would one day. But it didn't seem to bother Ariel, considering it was just a little blood. Then came the final revelation. The one that left him speechless for a long moment.

  "Nana can help us," Aria said with an innocent smile, but one laced with something else. "She says that if we want, she can share some of the blood she stole. That would make us... stronger."

  Joel looked at her silently, knowing that she didn't know what he had just said. Joel knew very well that magi's blood couldn't be ingested without preparation. Its power was raw, unstable, capable of causing serious side effects in those not strong enough... or a slow and painful death. Only high-level alchemists, experts with years of experience, were capable of processing it in specialized laboratories and turning it into a safe potion, albeit one with many limitations to its effectiveness.

  But that changed completely when he heard Nana, who, through Ariel, explained that her internal system had refined the blood she absorbed, eliminating what was corrupt and dangerous… retaining only what was necessary and pure, perfect for anyone to absorb.

  "Only the good remains," Ariel said, repeating it word for word with a childlike calmness that belied the seriousness of the subject. "The things that help one grow in power."

  Joel didn't know whether to trust those words. How could he be sure the blood had truly been purified? Could even a machine—because that's what Nana was, at least in part—understand the dangers hidden in a mage's lifeblood?

  That's when something happened that shattered his skepticism. A wooden cup appeared on the table. It literally emerged, as if growing from the polished surface itself, sprouting from the wood as if it were a living part of the house. The cup filled itself, slowly, with a liquid as clear as spring water. And Joel, as soon as he approached, felt a change in the air, a sweet, almost fruity aroma, and at the same time… a familiar memory.

  "It's safe," Ariel said, looking at him with those eyes that seemed not to fully understand what was happening.

  Joel held the cup in his hands; it was light and warm to the touch. He hesitated… for long minutes. There was no pressure, only a decision: trust what he had created… or his own fears?

  Finally, he raised the cup, closed his eyes, and drank, just a sip. But it was enough, as the effect was immediate. A warm wave ran through his body from his chest, rapidly spreading through every muscle, every bone, and every corner of his body. It was like tasting those potions of the Cult of Dawn again... but different, more potent and refined. And, at the same time, less aggressive.

  He felt like he had taken something truly made for humans, and that all the potions he'd drunk before were poor imitations.

  Joel opened his eyes slowly, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he had done something truly right.