5:00 AM – Outskirts of Raiverstone
Silence cloaked the place,
and in a small cabin, Leo sat on a low wooden chair in front of a narrow table.
The flickering candlelight cast a trembling shadow over his tired face,
his half-closed eyes focused on a raw block of wood.
His sharp knife moved slowly—peeling, carving, digging—
as if it wasn't carving a face… but unearthing something within him.
He was carving features that needed no thought:
a small nose, wide eyes… features etched in his heart before his eyes.
He wasn't good at talking about her,
but he sculpted her in wood as if it were the only way to understand himself.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
"Leo!"
Maria's voice thundered through the dawn like a slap.
Startled, his blade slipped slightly across the wood's surface.
He quickly hid the piece behind his back and stood, flustered.
Maria entered without permission, wrapping her cloak around her with one hand,
her eyes ablaze with anger.
"Have you lost your mind?! We've been waiting for you for half an hour!"
He stammered, averting his gaze:
"I… got a little carried away."
She stepped closer, looked at the table,
and saw the melted wax pooling in a small dish,
the scent of burned wood filling the air.
She stared into his eyes:
"You're carving again, aren't you?"
He didn't answer—just looked out the window.
His fingers still clenched the trembling knife.
She sighed, then said in a soft tone:
"Leo… haven't you finished it yet? I've waited for it a long time.
And every time, you say: just a bit more… Let me see it. It's okay if it's not done."
He gripped the knife tighter, then gently pushed her toward the door:
"Impossible. Forget it. Come on—we're late."
She stopped, stared at him with a look filled with both frustration and reproach,
then muttered in surrender:
"Fine… fine."
They left the room.
As the door closed, Maria suddenly stopped and said:
"I'll head to the bathroom… go on ahead."
He nodded lightly and walked off.
As soon as she confirmed he was gone, she rushed back into the room,
chuckled softly, and whispered to herself:
"Sorry, Leo… I've waited two weeks. I won't wait any longer."
She approached the table,
and gently lifted the cloth covering the work.
She froze.
A familiar face… carved in the wood, with painful precision.
Her fingers trembled as she passed her hand over it,
then she closed her eyes for a moment and gently replaced the cover.
She said nothing. Just walked out… as if she had seen nothing.
Later – On the Wagon
Maria sat beside Leo, her gaze fixed and silent.
On the other side, Norail watched them both with the eyes of an experienced mother,
while Grent drove the wagon in silence, eyes on the road.
"This road… wasn't like this before.
I think Kain cleared it for us."
No one replied.
Norail exchanged a quick glance with Maria, then calmly said:
"What did you do, Leo, to upset her?"
Leo forced a smile and said:
"She's impatient.
I told her I'd show her the sculpture when it's finished—but she insisted."
Maria said coldly without turning:
"I don't want to see it anymore. Don't worry."
Leo tried to lighten the mood:
"Maria… I'll finish it within two days, I promise. Marleyo's promise!"
She didn't respond—just leaned her head against the wood and said:
"I didn't sleep well… I'll get some rest. Don't bother me."
She closed her eyes, pretending to sleep,
while Norail stared at Leo for a long moment,
and Leo simply shrugged… as if he had no answers.
Upon Arrival
Grent stopped the wagon near the trunk of a large tree.
"We're here. Come on—unload the supplies… be careful, there are sharp tools in the back."
Everyone began moving.
Suddenly, a voice echoed from above:
"You're really late this time."
They looked up.
Lyara was standing on a branch, smiling confidently,
her wavy hair falling over her shoulders.
Grent laughed:
"Oh, there's my beautiful girl!"
She leapt down gracefully and hugged them one by one.
When she reached Maria, she paused and asked:
"Are you alright?"
Maria replied in a calm tone:
"I'm… fine."
"Are you sure?"
Leo stepped in:
"She wanted to see what I was carving,
but I wanted to finish it first. You know… when she insists, nothing stops her."
Maria shot him a sharp look, then moved on to carry the supplies.
Lyara grabbed Leo's arm and whispered:
"Would it have killed you to show it to her?"
He sighed:
"Just two more days… can't she wait?"
"As if you don't know her, Leo!"
He laughed and said:
"Alright—when we return, she'll see the sculpture."
Lyara nodded, mock-threatening:
"You'll show her the sculpture, or I'll have Dark pounce on you."
He smiled:
"I stand by my word."
Inside Kain's Cabin
Kain welcomed them warmly:
"I thought you'd forgotten the way."
Grent stepped forward and shook his hand:
"Blame Leo this time."
Leo said while placing the supplies:
"I got carried away carving… forgive me, Kain."
Kain asked with a smile:
"What are you carving now?"
Leo replied hesitantly:
"I can't say just yet."
Lyara chimed in, holding her father's hand:
"Don't worry, Father… Leo can't keep secrets—he'll spill it himself in a few minutes!"
Everyone laughed and began unpacking the supplies.
Kain's cabin wasn't large,
but it was full of unspoken things:
wooden shelves, carving tools, and Leo's works filling the corners.
Norail arranged herbs, Grent fixed the threshold,
Leo cleaned and sorted the tools,
while Maria sat by the window, silently staring into the distance.
Kain noticed, approached her, and said in a low tone only she could hear:
"Is it that he hasn't carved your face… that makes you this way?"
She gasped, quickly looked at him,
then at Leo working far away.
Kain placed a hand on her shoulder and said:
"Maria… Leo doesn't carve what he likes.
He carves what troubles and confuses him.
Carving is his only way to understand himself—he doesn't know how to express otherwise."
He patted her head and left her stunned.
After Unpacking the Supplies
Lyara said with excitement:
"Now that we're done… shall I show you what I found two days ago?"
Kain raised a brow:
"What did you find this time?"
She placed her hand on his arm:
"A secret… just for the three of us."
Leo stood and looked at Maria:
"Will you come?"
She looked at him sharply and said:
"Don't you want me to?"
He replied, surprised:
"Maria, how can you think that? As if we'd go without you?"
Lyara grabbed her hand:
"I found this place for you… if you don't come, we won't go!"
Maria smiled and said:
"Alright… let's go."
At the door, Norail called from behind the stove:
"Be back before sunset—or next time, Grent and I will bring the supplies alone!"
Lyara replied with a grin:
"I promise… we'll be back before the stew is ready!"
And they left.
Inside the Forest – Half an Hour Later
The ground grew damper,
the trees thicker,
and the light dimmed the deeper they went.
Leo said:
"Are you sure? This place feels eerie."
Maria replied sarcastically:
"Afraid? Go back then… we'll carry on."
He snapped:
"What nonsense is that?"
Lyara laughed, then pointed ahead:
"We've arrived."
She brushed aside the branches,
revealing a rocky opening where dim water dripped,
and behind it, a small cave with moss hanging from the ceiling,
and at its center, a gentle waterfall flowing into a pool surrounded by violet and white flowers.
Lyara whispered:
"I called it… Marella. Your special place, Maria."
Leo stepped forward, amazed:
"It's… like paradise. How did we not find this before?!"
She replied:
"I was following Dark and Vala… they led me to it."
Maria sat by the pool, running her hand over the flowers:
"They're… beautiful. I've never seen anything like them."
Leo sat across from the waterfall and said:
"Not even the greatest sculptor could replicate this beauty."
Maria looked at her silently, then murmured:
"Thank you… Lyara."
Lyara said:
"I wanted it just for us. The three of us."
Leo said:
"Let's make a pact… if we ever part ways, let's return here."
Maria replied:
"Let it be our compass… when we're lost."
Lyara's eyes sparkled as she said:
"Marella… our secret compass."
Elsewhere, in a place that echoed the forest's calm,
the Queen sat in silence,
reshaping the fate of the kingdom… with a cup of tea.
Eron – The Royal Palace
The Southern Balcony – A Clear Morning
The sun had risen slightly in the sky,
and the only clouds left in the horizon were scattered like threads of cotton.
The southern balcony of the palace overlooked a wide fountain courtyard,
its waters dancing to the tunes of the western wind.
Queen Alessandra sat in full elegance,
her white dress embroidered with silver threads, gracefully draped over the armrest of a juniper-carved chair.
Her hand rested calmly beneath her chin, eyes following the flight of a small bird across the sky—
but there was something in her features that could not be seen… a soft tension that did not declare itself.
Beside her sat Silvara,
her younger sister, in a dark blue dress—
simpler than the Queen's, but no less graceful or commanding.
She carefully peeled grapes and placed them in her mouth without lifting her gaze from the horizon,
as if everything around her was being consumed slowly… just as she did with everything.
Alessandra said, without turning:
"You're not late this morning. That's rare."
Silvara replied calmly, placing another grape in her mouth:
"I wanted to see you before the meetings began,
before your face becomes sharper and more stern."
The Queen laughed softly, though the laugh didn't reach her eyes.
She lifted her teacup and said:
"Is that how I appear?"
Silvara looked at her briefly, then whispered:
"Most of the time… yes."
Silence settled between them.
On the surface, it was a warm moment,
but the air between them was cold—charged with invisible layers of unsaid words.
Alessandra took a sip of her tea, then said in a neutral tone:
"I received a message from our father this morning.
The Prime Minister of Reinhart has come to propose to you."
Silvara responded quickly, her voice sharp:
"And why are you telling me this? You already know my opinion on the matter."
Alessandra gave her a long look, then said:
"Silvara, I know. You're above marrying a Prime Minister.
The Queen's sister should be a queen herself… shouldn't she?"
Silvara replied, though she was suffocating inside:
"Alessandra… is that really what you think?
That even my personal life is tied to your plans, your power, your influence?"
The Queen remained silent, turning her face away.
She didn't want to prolong the discussion again.
At that moment, the door to the balcony opened.
Matthew entered quietly,
wearing the dark uniform of the royal guards, his sword at his side,
his shoulders upright.
He bowed respectfully before the Queen and said:
"Your majesty , you summoned me."
She gestured for him to enter, without a smile:
"Yes, sit. There's something we must discuss before you depart."
He glanced briefly at Silvara, exchanged a subtle look,
then sat at the edge of the table, ready to listen.
The Queen spoke while observing the light's reflection in a glass of water:
"Ryan will be leaving in a few days. His mission is still unclear."
Matthew nodded firmly and said:
"I know your majesty . He asked me to accompany him."
Silvara interjected:
"Strange… Ryan can handle anything on his own."
Alessandra didn't respond immediately.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and said:
"This time… I believe it's beyond Ryan alone."
She then turned to Matthew, her tone more serious:
"Stay alert. No harm must come to the Queen's personal knight."
Matthew remained silent for a moment,
then said with calm confidence:
"As you command, my Queen ."
Silvara looked at him and raised an eyebrow slightly, then murmured:
"Matthew… be careful."
He looked at her and smiled, speaking in a soft tone:
"As you command, Your Highness."
The Queen stood slowly, walking toward the balcony's edge, then asked:
"When will you depart?"
Matthew replied:
"Before sunrise, your majesty ."
Silvara stood behind her, gazing at him, then asked:
"To that city in the west… the one where the coup happened years ago?"
He answered without hesitation:
"Yes, Your Highness."
The Queen turned toward him slowly, her gaze sharp as a blade,
her voice low but filled with authority:
"Matthew… Hesmaril is not what you think. It's not just a coup or a military mutiny."
A moment of silence fell over the scene,
then Matthew said with calm and caution:
"I know, my Queen . What awaits us there… isn't just rebels.
And the fact that no army was sent to suppress or deter that coup has begun to disturb me.
I'm now certain… sending Ryan and me wasn't about quelling the rebellion, nor fixing it.
Because that's impossible."
Alessandra took a step closer, now standing behind him.
She placed her hand on the back of the chair and spoke in a soft voice:
"The rebellion and coup in the East… are in the kingdom's favor.
Don't see it otherwise.
That uprising blocked a southern breach—
the most dangerous region in Elyos.
The king may pretend otherwise before the people,
but he won't lift a finger as long as his plans remain intact.
The East… is an unspoken truce with the South."
Matthew nodded with respect and said:
"I understand, your majesty . I'll try to keep an eye on Ryan…
perhaps I'll discover the real reason we're being sent there."
Silvara looked at him and said finally, in a soft tone,
one untouched by politics:
"Matthew… just be safe. And come back to us quickly."
Matthew smiled and looked down with humility,
then said gently, with deep respect:
"I'll be worthy of the task, Your Highness… and I will return."
He then stood,
and with his rising, so too rose the weight of the moment.
He bowed with discipline and said:
"If you'll excuse me, your majesty I must prepare our supplies before sunset."
The Queen nodded silently,
and Silvara simply watched him as he left the balcony.
She said nothing.
They waited until the door closed behind him.
The wind passed again between the balcony columns,
but something in the air had changed.
Alessandra sat back down, her voice now sharper:
"Silvara… stay vigilant. Matthew's departure is dangerous for both of us.
You know that."
Silvara, still staring at the closed door, replied:
"I know…"
Then silence.
The sun had moved slightly toward the heart of the sky,
and the balcony that had seemed peaceful moments ago
now felt like a stage for unspoken questions… and burdens left unsaid.
Later that same evening,
with the traces of tea still on the Queen's balcony,
Minister Lysos was beginning his own game from the opposite side…
For every decision made by day… has a different echo at night.
Eron – The Royal Palace
Minister Lysos' Private Wing – After Sunset
The atmosphere was quiet in the Minister's wing,
and the wooden clock ticked each minute with a steady chime.
In the corner, Sheila was practicing in her head—
repeating the sword moves she had learned today.
She closed her eyes, mimicking the steps silently,
as if dueling an invisible shadow.
On the nearby couch, Desmara sat with tea and pastries,
chatting with Naila about Duke Tharos' daughter, who had recently married into a poor family—
her tone laced with curiosity and subtle sarcasm.
As for Minister Lysos, he was immersed in reading a long document,
his eyes gliding swiftly as if each line carried a delayed poison.
Kara entered, her steps slower than usual.
She walked in without looking at anyone and said, in a measured tone:
"I want to understand something, Father."
Without lifting his eyes, Lysos replied:
"Ask."
She sat before him, her eyes on him—not the paper in his hands:
"Why Ryan? Why is he the one always sent?"
He paused for a second,
then resumed reading, as if nothing had been said.
Kara repeated, her tone heavier:
"Why is he always the one burdened by the king?
Why is he chosen among all the guards… every time? No one knows the reason."
Lysos slowly closed the document,
placed it on the table,
and finally looked at her. His gaze was calm… yet filled with caution.
"Because Ryan doesn't ask too many questions… and doesn't speak much.
And the type of tasks the king orders… require someone like Ryan."
Kara leaned forward, saying:
"Or just say… the king wants to get rid of him as soon as possible."
He didn't respond.
She continued, looking directly at him:
"There's something… and you know it.
Where is he going? And why now?"
Lysos looked away and rose quietly,
walking to a tall window and cracking it open to let in the evening breeze.
He said without turning:
"There's no use drowning in doubt and questions, Kara.
Ryan was sent by royal command, and we are not the ones to question those decisions."
She responded quickly, as if she couldn't bear his evasion:
"But you were there when the decision was made.
And I saw you… you knew where he was being sent."
Lysos sighed, then slowly turned to her.
"Is Ryan's departure what bothers you?
Or is it that you hate being left out… that curiosity is slowly killing you?"
She looked at him, then turned her gaze away, as if thinking how to respond.
She said calmly:
"Yes… that's what bothers me.
That everyone knows… and I don't."
Lysos chuckled softly, then said:
"Leave Ryan and his usual secret mission for now.
I want to ask you something else."
She paused, then said:
"What is it?"
He approached, sat opposite her again,
and looked directly into her eyes:
"Raven… how are things between the two of you?"
Kara's expression shifted briefly,
then she said, with a tone that didn't hide her discomfort:
"Raven and me?…"
Lysos smiled, calm as always:
"Raven cares about you. I see it clearly.
Try to get closer to him too.
Kara, I've spent three years planting the seed of your presence in that boy.
If you don't water it… hmm, I'd rather not think of the alternative.
Do what I told you… alright?"
She turned her face away, stood up, her hand trembling slightly—though she hid it.
She said as she walked to the door:
"As you wish, Father."
He replied behind her, in a low voice:
"You will rule Elyos, Kara.
You… will rule
Aetheron. Remember that."
Kara stepped out, closing the door quietly,
but in her eyes… a spark ignited.
Not just a spark… but something more.
End of Chapter Three – To be continued…