With determination, I stood up and walked toward the cat, holding the drawing in front of me. Kumo tried to hold me back, but I reassured him with a glance. The cat continued to mumble, his dark eyes reflecting immense sadness. When he noticed the drawing, he froze.

His eyes fell on the sheet, and he examined every detail with heartbreaking intensity. His murmurs abruptly ceased, replaced by a heavy silence. Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up, and warm tears began to stream down his cheeks.

“It’s her… I remember her now…” he murmured in a trembling voice. “Her eyes… her gentle eyes… her fur… Everything is there… It’s her…”

The cat wept, but these tears were different. They were no longer filled with sorrow but with relief, with rediscovered happiness.

“I was beginning to forget what she looked like over time… Only her description remained in my mind,” he said, clutching the drawing to his heart as if it were a precious treasure.

Around us, the dark and gloomy decor of the manor began to change. The walls, once covered in dust and cobwebs, gradually cleaned themselves, revealing delicate patterns and vibrant colors, as if the sadness that had dulled them was being washed away by the light.

Light poured in through the windows again, illuminating the room with a soft glow. The manor seemed to come alive, as if the memory of this cat had brought a touch of life back to the abandoned place.

“I will never be able to thank you enough, young lady. Thanks to you, I could see my late wife’s face again, which I had begun to forget, consumed by sadness,” he said, his voice still trembling with emotion and filled with gratitude.

“It’s nothing, sir…” I replied timidly, but an inner pride grew within me, happy to have done something meaningful.

“My wife passed away a hundred years ago… Since then, nothing has filled the void she left. I had nothing of hers left—no portrait, no tangible memory. I regretted not capturing her image before it was too late…” he explained, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

I remained silent, touched by the depth of his grief. A hundred years… Could they live that long here?

“Thanks to you, I can now wait patiently to be reunited with her,” he said, a sad but serene smile on his face.

“I’m glad I could help in that case, sir,” I replied sincerely.

The cat rummaged through an old wooden box and pulled out an object.

“If you’ll allow me, I’d like to keep this drawing. In exchange, as a token of my gratitude, I’d like to offer you this pinecone.”

“A… pinecone?” I repeated, intrigued.

“It’s a magical pinecone. If you peel off all its scales, you can make a wish,” he explained, handing me the object with a smile.

“A wish? But why didn’t you use it to be reunited with your wife?” I asked, puzzled.

The cat shook his head with a sad smile.

“Such a wish is impossible. Bringing back a loved one from the dead or altering fate is beyond what magic can accomplish… And I didn’t want her memory to be altered by some magical artifice. I wanted to remember her as she was, through my heart, not through magic. But time is merciless.”

“I understand…”

I realized then that some things couldn’t be changed, even with the most powerful magic.

“Thank you very much,” I said, delicately taking the pinecone.

“Thank you again, young lady. You have a natural gift, a rare talent,” he said with disarming sincerity.

I blushed, touched by his compliment.

“The pleasure was all mine!” I murmured, my cheeks burning.

“Well, it’s time for us to go, nya. We need to head back,” Kumo interjected, with a persistence I could no longer ignore.

“Oh yes, you’re right, Kumo!” I replied, suddenly remembering the reality awaiting us outside.

“In that case, travel safely and take care. I’m glad to have met you…?”

“Yui, sir!”

“Yui… I am Mistral.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Mistral!”

The cat smiled, then retreated into the shadows, his silhouette gradually fading until it disappeared completely.

Kumo, who had remained silent until then, approached me.

“Nya, you’re really incredible, Yui.”

I smiled faintly.

“That was a strange experience, but I’m happy to have done something good.”

After the final goodbyes, Kumo and I made our way to the exit.

The manor, meanwhile, continued to regain its former brilliance, bright and vibrant with life. The once dark and oppressive walls were now bathed in light, and flowers had begun to bloom in the corners, bringing touches of color and life to this place that had been steeped in sadness for so long. Even the air felt lighter, purer.

We descended the stairs, crossing the manor, which now seemed far less frightening. The citadel’s doors opened as we passed, letting us leave as if they too were thanking us.

Outside, the sun shone high in the sky, warming our skin after the manor’s darkness. Butterflies fluttered around us, coloring the air with their shimmering wings.

We left the castle behind, leaving a place that, thanks to a simple drawing, had regained some of its former splendor.

“I think I really like this world, Kumo…”

A strange feeling grew within me. One thing was certain—I didn’t want to leave this world. I was starting to feel truly at home here. Somehow, it felt like I belonged.