ã€ŠWhisper of Eternity: The Song of Mirror Worldsã€‹


 Days Gone

    The sun''s rays filtered through the half-open curtains, illuminating a festively decorated room in the former capital of the Aurelian Empire, today''s Istanbul, now occupied by Russian forces. It was May 6, 2035, 12:00 (Putin still rules). The apartment had a special atmosphere: the laughter of children echoed with the smell of freshly cooked food. A little girl with ash-blond hair and bright blue eyes ran along the corridor, her eyes shining with joy. Her brother ran after her, laughing, trying to catch her, but each time she deftly slipped away, laughing in return.

    In the living room, my father was sitting at the table. His face was thoughtful, and his eyes were focused on the TV screen, where news about the upcoming holiday on May 9 was on. There were plates on the table, and my mother, with a serious expression on her face, was methodically serving dishes, clearly trying not to pay attention to the discussion of the holiday on TV. My grandmother was sitting next to my father, her wrinkled face expressing irritation.

    "They have nothing better to do," the grandmother suddenly said, "than to show us this crap. I know perfectly well that we didn''t give a shit on May 9th!"

    The father sighed heavily and gently reproached:

    - Mom, speak more civilly, the children are nearby.

    Grandma just snorted.

    - What kind of culture is there? They only impose their own. As if anyone cares.

    Mom, without looking up from serving food, suddenly said, restrainedly, but with a hint of tension in her voice:

    - Why don¡¯t you like Russians so much?

    The father glanced briefly at his wife. The tension in the room was palpable. She was Russian, originally from Russia. Her accent still occasionally came through in her speech, despite the many years she had spent away from her homeland. The father and grandmother, in turn, were former citizens of the great empire of Aurelis, which had fallen apart after the death of Emperor Cassian Aurelis, the ruler who had held the empire in his hands for over a thousand years.

    The grandmother looked angrily at her daughter-in-law.

    - Your relatives just came and now they do whatever they want! They think that the whole world will adapt to them.

    The father, trying not to get involved in the argument between the two women, poured himself a shot of vodka and drank it, trying not to pay attention to the growing tension. Meanwhile, the children continued to make noise and run around the apartment, as if not noticing the family disagreements.

    ¡°During the empire, everything was cheap and high-quality,¡± the grandmother persisted, her voice becoming more insistent. ¡°Everyone was afraid of us. And the food was normal.¡±

    Mom, putting the last dish on the table, coldly retorted:

    ¡ª They were afraid of Russia too. And you lived in lies and tyranny.

    Grandma clenched her fists on her knees, remembering the past:

    - Yes, I remember very well how I cooked a whole table for one eagle (in rubles - that''s eighty thousand)! And my salary was twenty-three eagles. I could feed a family for months! And now you, - she looked at the prepared food with disgust, - cook only cheap stuff, and even the taste is lost.

    Mom couldn¡¯t resist, but answered more softly:

    - There''s nothing you can do. Your empire has fallen.

    The father finally decided to intervene, his voice soft but firm:

    - Let''s end this argument. Today is a holiday, not a day for old grievances.

    After a short pause, both women calmed down, and soon the whole family gathered around the table. The children stopped running and also sat down in their places. It was quiet until suddenly the brother and sister said at the same time:

    - Grandma, you always said that it was easy to live in the empire. Can you tell us about the emperor?

    The sister, jumping up and down with excitement, added:

    ¡ª I saw his portrait in the museum, he is so beautiful!

    Mom couldn¡¯t help but frown slightly:

    ¡ª You should study the history of your own country, not the fallen one.

    The father, sensing the intensity of emotions, quickly intervened:

    - Darling, this is their country too. They have imperial blood in their blood. It doesn''t mean they shouldn''t study Russian history, but the empire is part of their heritage.

    The grandmother looked at her grandchildren with warmth and pride, her voice regained its strength:

    - That''s right, don''t listen to your ugly mother. The history of the empire is ancient and glorious, and it is necessary to know it. Emperor Cassian Aurelis was a real ruler, which the current one will never become.

    The children, inspired, pricked up their ears, and the grandmother, sighing, began her story:

    - When I was ten...

    The light seemed to soften, and time began to recede. Memories took her back to her childhood. In a small classroom of an old school sat a girl with ash-blond hair and bright blue eyes. She carefully wrote down the teacher''s words in her notebook, her thoughts wandering between the lesson and dreams of a great future that seemed so real then.

    The teacher looked up at Marie and held her gaze. At first his brows were slightly furrowed, but then his expression softened. He understood that the girl had simply become engrossed in something else, as often happens in history lessons.

    "Mary," he said with some severity. The girl jumped, her ash-blond hair swaying slightly from the sudden movement.

    ¡°Yes, I am!¡± she blurted out, and her face turned slightly pink with embarrassment.

    The teacher looked at her carefully, pursing his lips.

    - Next time I won''t repeat it twice. What are you writing there?

    Marie looked hesitantly at her notebook, noticing that instead of history notes there were formulas written there.

    ¡°And I... am doing algebra,¡± she admitted, looking at the teacher with a guilty smile.

    The teacher sighed and shook his head.

    ¡ª Algebra during history class? It was just in time that you decided to do it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she whispered, lowering her head, but her eyes were still looking at the teacher, waiting for his reaction.

    "Sit down and listen carefully," said the teacher, but his voice was already softer. "We are now talking about a very important person, namely the first Empress Marie Aurelis."

    Marie felt her interest increase and she sat up straighter, ready to listen. The other students also turned their attention to the teacher.

    "The Empress Marie Aurelis," the teacher began, his voice deepening as if he himself had delved into the past, "was the wife of Cassian Aurelis himself, the immortal ruler who still rules the empire. Marie became his wife at the age of thirty. She was a duchess, and her position was always a matter of some controversy among the nobility.

    The teacher paused, looked around the classrooms and saw many children listening with obvious interest.

    "Marie had no political power in the country," he continued. "All the power was always concentrated in the hands of Cassian, and many thought that she would be just a shadow of her husband. But Marie was not like that. Even though she did not participate in state affairs directly, her influence was felt in every part of the empire.

    Marie (the one sitting at the desk) sat, her eyes fixed on the teacher. Her interest grew. Images flashed in her mind: what might this empress look like? Was she as strong as Cassian, or was her power different, softer, but no less influential?

    The teacher continued in the meantime:

    ¡ª Marie was not a woman willing to hide behind her husband. Her support and ability to behave in high circles made her a respected and beloved figure among the people. She was involved in charity, built orphanages, organized holidays and always made sure that the people felt cared for. But despite her good deeds, she always remained in the shadow of the great Cassian.

    Marie couldn''t help but feel a little sad. She wondered: what would it be like to be the wife of an immortal ruler? To be with someone who would live forever, knowing that your life would end? She imagined Marie looking at Cassian, knowing that one day her time would come, and he would remain, ruling the empire. Her thoughts filled with questions and doubts.

    ¡ª The Empress, as they say, ¡ª the teacher smiled slightly, ¡ª was not only smart, but also incredibly beautiful. Her image has been preserved in portraits: lush hair, light eyes that expressed both wisdom and gentleness. But what attracted people to her even more was her inner light, her kindness and strength of spirit.

    One of the students raised her hand.

    - But why didn''t she have power? If she was so smart and strong, couldn''t she help Cassian run the empire?

    The teacher frowned, considering the question.

    - That''s a good question. The thing is, Cassian Aurelis is immortal. He himself has seen the birth and fall of many states. He has seen how people change, and he understood that everything is transient. That''s why he kept power in his hands, not allowing it to be divided. Marie could have helped him, but I think she understood that her role was different. She supported him emotionally, was his pillar, his advisor. And in this, her strength was no less significant than her power.

    Marie listened, her gaze fixed on the teacher. Her thoughts were mixed up: she tried to imagine what it was like for Marie to live next to such a person who had outlived the centuries. She felt some invisible connection with this story, as if their fates were somehow similar.

    The teacher, noticing the girl¡¯s thoughtfulness, addressed the class:

    ¡ª Empress Marie became a symbol of devotion and fortitude. Her life is not a story about politics or wars, but about how one can be strong even in the shadow of a great ruler.

    Marie (sitting at her desk) tilted her head slightly, thinking. Her hand lightly squeezed her pen, as if she was about to make a new entry, but her thoughts carried her far from her school notebook.

    Marie, sitting at her desk, carefully opened a blank page in her notebook. Her gaze, inspired by the teacher''s story, thoughtfully froze on the white paper. Her hand slowly reached for a pencil. She imagined the image of the first empress: a woman with lush blue hair, her eyes - deep, blue, like the purest morning sky. Each stroke on the paper was careful, verified, as if Marie was trying to catch something magical and eternal. She began with the face - soft features, a calm and thoughtful expression, framed by long wavy hair. Each curl was drawn with attention to detail, as if alive. The empress''s eyes, large and expressive, looked into the distance, reflecting the wisdom of the centuries.

    Meanwhile the teacher continued:

    ¡ª The empire is currently ruled by its ninth empress. Although times change, the very essence of the empire remains unchanged. The current ruler continues the work of her ancestors with dignity, but we must not forget about those who stood at the origins ¡ª those who laid the foundation of this great power.

    One of the students sitting near Marie raised his hand.

    "Master, I have a question." There was a hint of curiosity in his voice. The teacher nodded, allowing him to continue. "What color was the first empress''s hair and eyes exactly? And also... my mother said that the first empress was Lucy, not Marie. Is that true?"

    The teacher smiled, his eyes shining slightly, as if he had been expecting this question.

    "A very good question," he began, sitting down on the edge of his desk to make his answer more casual and personal. "The first empress did indeed have two names. Her name was Marie Aurelis, but she also had a second name, Lucy. The name Lucy was given to her by the Emperor Cassian himself as a sign of special closeness and respect. It was not used in official documents, but in the Emperor''s family circle she was often called by that name.

    Marie (the one sitting at the desk) slowed down her drawing a little, listening attentively, but her hand continued to draw the soft lines of the empress. She had already drawn the delicate blue hair falling in waves on her shoulders, and stopped at the eyes. These eyes, blue as a deep ocean, embodied something distant and unattainable. Marie seemed to feel a connection with this woman from the past, her difficult fate.

    "As for her appearance," the teacher continued, "Marie had bright blue hair and deep blue eyes. Her appearance was considered unusual even in those days, when the diversity of the empire''s peoples was enormous. This hair color became a symbol that linked her to the legends of the skies and seas. Marie was not only a beautiful woman, but also a symbol of calm and wisdom.

    ¡°Why did Cassian name her Lucy?¡± the student persisted, his eyes shining with interest.

    The teacher paused for a moment, thinking.

    ¡ª It was a gesture of special significance. Emperor Cassian was known for his coldness and distance from most people. But he treated Marie differently. Her second role, as the wife of an immortal ruler, was not easy. Lucy, translated from the ancient language, meant "light," and Cassian gave her this name as a sign that she was a light to him in his long, dark life.

    Marie, still drawing, felt the teacher''s words penetrate her consciousness, and this inspired her even more. Her hand confidently added the final touches to the drawing: gentle shadows on the face, the light playing in the hair, and a slight smile that was barely noticeable, but gave the image a special humanity.

    When she finished, an image appeared before her ¨C a woman with long blue hair, blue eyes full of inexpressible depth and wisdom. A quiet smile shone on her face, as if she knew something important that was not given to others to understand. This was the image that Marie wanted to embody ¨C an image of strength, femininity and hidden pain. She looked at her drawing and felt that she had finally captured the edge that connected history with the present.

    The teacher continued, looking at the class with a kind smile:

    ¡ª That is how Empress Marie became for us a symbol of strength in the shadow of the great Cassian. She did not rule the country directly, but her presence and support were no less important for the formation and prosperity of the empire.

    The bell rang, interrupting the quiet rhythm of the school day. The teacher looked at the class, already a little tired from lessons, with a smile and said:

    - That''s all for today. Don''t forget that tomorrow we''ll continue studying the history of the empire. See you.

    The students began to gather their things, noisily discussing their plans for the rest of the day. Marie, taking her time, carefully folded her notebook, glanced at her drawing of the empress, and quickly hid it in her backpack. She always tried not to attract unnecessary attention to herself - there was no point. She had almost no friends at school, and most often she walked home alone. It did not bother her much, but sometimes she felt a little lonely, especially when she watched the other children happily walking in groups, chatting and laughing.

    When she walked out of the school gates, the weather was warm and sunny, and the streets were bustling with everyday life. As she passed a shop, she noticed a small sign: **"Discounted soda - 0.10 eagle"**. Her eyes lit up, and she quickly turned into the shop, deciding to treat herself to something nice.

    It was cool inside the store. Marie chose her favorite soda, the minty kind, paid with a coin that jingled pleasantly on the counter, and, satisfied with her purchase, walked outside. At that moment, her gaze accidentally caught a familiar figure.

    "Lumine!" she shouted happily, raising her hand in greeting. Her voice was so sudden that Lumine jumped slightly.

    The girl with long black hair and green eyes turned around, her face initially expressing slight confusion, but upon seeing Marie, she relaxed and quickened her pace a little, easily running up to her friend.

    ¡°Hello, Marie,¡± she said with a small, warm smile. Her voice sounded a little tired, but still friendly. ¡°How are you?¡±

    Marie turned the soda slightly in her hand, showing it off.

    "Yeah, it''s fine, I just bought some soda on sale. How are you?" she asked, lifting the cap to take a sip.

    Lumine sighed, but her face remained calm.

    "Oh, that''s okay too. I got an ''I'' at school," she said proudly, referring to her grade, which was equivalent to an A.

    - Wow! - Marie smiled sincerely, her eyes shining. - You''re great! I knew you could do it. What subject?

    Lumine shrugged slightly, her green eyes dimming for a moment.

    ¡ª In math. I honestly didn''t expect it to go so well. The teacher was strict on this test.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy for you!¡± Marie took another sip of soda, enjoying its refreshing taste. ¡°It¡¯s probably easier for you to study at another school?¡±

    Lumine nodded, but a shadow of thoughtfulness flickered in her eyes.

    ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s easier,¡± she admitted. ¡°We don¡¯t have so many students, and the atmosphere is¡­ different. Less fuss, and the teachers are more patient. But, to be honest, sometimes I miss the communication. Everything is too¡­ calm.¡±

    Marie laughed, her laughter soft and warm.

    - How calm is that? You were always so active! I can''t imagine you in silence.

    Lumine also laughed quietly, her green eyes sparkling.

    - Well, maybe it''s for the best. I''ve come to understand myself better. And how are you? Is everything okay at school?

    Marie thought for a second, her gaze wandering along the road ahead.

    - Yes, everything is as usual. Classes, teachers... You know, sometimes I feel like I''m just passing by, leaving no trace. - Her voice sounded a little sad, but not bitter. - I don''t have many friends. Usually I''m alone.

    Lumine leaned a little closer to her friend with a knowing smile.

    "You''re not alone, Marie. You have me. We may be in different schools, but I''m always there." Her words were simple but warm, and Marie felt how it slightly softened her inner anxiety.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Marie whispered, smiling sincerely. ¡°This really means a lot to me.¡±

    They continued walking down the street, chatting about small things: homework, what was on TV, what they were planning for the weekend. Lumine talked about her new hobby - she had started learning to draw portraits, which surprised Marie, because her friend had not shown any interest in art before.

    Soon Marie saw her house ahead. She slowed down, looking back at Lumine.

    "Well, I have to go," she said with a little regret. "But it was great to see you again."

    Lumine nodded, her face lighting up with a soft smile.

    - It was nice to see you too, Marie. I hope we meet again soon.

    ¡°Definitely,¡± Marie answered with confidence.

    They exchanged a few more words, after which Marie headed towards her house, feeling a slight warmth inside.

    Marie quietly entered the house, carefully closing the door behind her. There was a delicious smell inside ¨C perhaps her mother was preparing her signature stew. The quiet clatter of dishes could be heard in the kitchen and the quiet hum of the TV in the living room. She took off her shoes and slowly headed towards the kitchen, where, as usual, she was met by cozy everyday life.

    Mom stood at the stove, stirring something intently in a large pot. She had blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail and expressive brown eyes that usually glowed with warmth, but now her face was focused. She was humming something quietly to herself¡ªher favorite tune from an old movie.

    ¡°Oh, hi, Marie,¡± Mom said, not turning around, but judging by her tone, noticing her daughter as soon as she entered. ¡°How¡¯s school?¡±

    Marie smiled, walked slowly to the kitchen table and placed her backpack on a chair.

    - Hi, Mom. Normal, as always. The teacher was talking about the imperials again.

    - About the Imperials again? - Mom grinned, turning to her with a spoon in her hand. - It seems like these lessons never end for you. Tell me honestly, aren''t you tired of this story?

    Marie shrugged, picking up one of the napkins from the table and playing with it in her hands.

    - Sometimes yes. But, you know, today was interesting. We were talking about the first Empress Marie. It turns out she had two names.

    The mother looked at her daughter with a smile.

    "Your namesake, then." She winked. "Just don''t forget, you''ll be great too, just without all that imperial stuff."

    Marie giggled.

    ¡°Is dad home?¡± she asked, looking towards the living room.

    ¡°He¡¯s in his usual place,¡± Mom said, nodding toward the room where the television was playing quietly.

    Marie peered into the living room and, sure enough, there was her father. He was sitting on the couch with a newspaper in his hands, flipping through the pages the old-fashioned way, although he could have been reading the news on his phone long ago. His short dark hair was slightly tousled, and there was an unshaven stubble on his face, giving him the look of a man who didn¡¯t care much about his appearance in a domestic setting. He looked relaxed, but focused on something important.

    ¡°Hi, Dad!¡± Marie said, sitting down next to him.

    Her father raised his eyebrows slightly at the sound of her voice and put the newspaper down.

    "Oh, hi, little one," he said with a joking note. "How was school? Saving the world again?"

    Marie snorted and shook her head.

    - Not exactly. Although our history teacher seems to think that we will all become rulers of an empire in the future.

    The father chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

    - Well, if that''s the case, maybe I should start preparing the crown? Although, you know, if you become empress, I could become your personal jester. Can you imagine me jumping around the throne and telling jokes?

    Marie laughed.

    - I think you would even like it!

    - Exactly, - he grinned and returned to his newspaper, not hiding his smile. - And have you already decided who will be your prime minister? Or will Lumine''s friend take this post?

    "Lumin would definitely refuse," Marie replied, narrowing her eyes. "She can''t stand politics."

    Mom, hearing their conversation from the kitchen, loudly intervened:

    - Just don''t dare drag me into this circus! If you become empress, I''ll be retired. Without royal duties, please.

    Her father laughed again, and Marie, catching his eye, realized that in this family one could always count on cheerful moments. She stood up, feeling lighter after such conversations, and headed upstairs to her room.

    Climbing the stairs, she opened the door to her small but cozy bedroom. Inside, everything was just the way she liked it: shelves with books, on which stood figurines and souvenirs, a small workspace, piled high with textbooks and notebooks, and a bed with a soft blanket. She sat on the bed, taking off her shoes, and thought about the past day.

    Marie remembered how they had discussed the Empress in class, and her own drawing. She pulled out her notebook and looked at her drawing again. The image of Empress Marie stared at her from the paper, her eyes glowing with a mysterious depth. At that moment, Marie felt that she somehow felt a connection with this woman from the past.

    "I wonder what the Empress would say to me if she could?" she wondered, imagining a possible conversation.

    But fatigue was gradually creeping in. Marie closed the notebook, put it on the shelf, quickly changed into her pajamas, and climbed under the covers. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard the quiet sounds from home that always gave her a sense of security: her parents'' laughter, the measured ticking of the clock in the hallway, and the muffled sounds of the television.

    *Note: Her hair and eye color came from her great-grandmother, not her parents.

    Years passed. Marie¡¯s ordinary days ¨C school, home, and time spent drawing ¨C flowed like clockwork. Her passion for art became more and more serious, and with each passing year her works gained depth and mastery. When she turned 16, she and Lumine entered the Academy of Artists, fulfilling their dream. The Academy became a new world for both of them, full of inspiration, creative challenges, and, of course, funny situations.

    Years passed, and Marie turned 16. Her passion for drawing not only did not fade, but also became the meaning of her life. Together with her friend Lumine, they entered the Academy of Arts, the painting department. They were full of enthusiasm and dreamed of how they would create masterpieces.

    One morning, Marie and Lumine overslept. The sun was already high above the horizon when Marie suddenly opened her eyes, realizing that the alarm had long since stopped ringing. Panic immediately overwhelmed her.

    "Oh, no!" she cried, jumping out of bed and frantically looking around the room for clothes. "We''re late!"

    She quickly dialed Lumine on the phone.

    ¡°Hello?¡± came the sleepy voice of a friend.

    - Are you still in bed? - Marie almost screamed. - We were supposed to be in class half an hour ago!

    Lumine could be heard standing up abruptly from her bed, followed by the sound of her trying to find her clothes.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    "Damn," Lumine whispered softly. "Why do we always wake up at the worst possible moment? This is so unfortunate!"

    Marie jumped up, pulling on her jeans as she went.

    "I guess it''s our destiny," she said, nodding, though Lumine couldn''t see her. "But you know, I don''t want to miss composition! It''s our favorite subject."

    "Yeah, yeah," Lumine said, "just run, I''ll catch up with you. If you get there first, pretend you''ve been there for a long time."

    Marie quickly ran out of the house, not even having time to have breakfast. She ran down the street, trying not to knock down random passers-by. Her head was spinning with thoughts about how their teacher - strict but fair - would definitely notice their lateness. And what''s worse, it was the very day when they were supposed to hand in their work for review.

    Halfway to the academy, Marie heard a familiar voice behind her.

    - Marie! - Lumine caught up with her, still zipping up her jacket as she ran. Her black hair fluttered in the wind, and her eyes, as always, shone with determination. - You overtook me again, but I''m still in the game!

    Marie slowed her pace slightly, allowing Lumine to catch up with her.

    "What do you think," Lumine asked, breathing heavily, "will they throw us out for being late? Or will they just make us stand at the exit as a monument to being late?"

    Marie laughed, although there was still some anxiety in her head.

    - I hope they''ll just pretend they didn''t notice. But if I have to, I''ll stand there like a real statue, with a sad face.

    Lumine smiled and waved her hand.

    - Well, if we have to be a statue, let''s at least do it with style. We can stand like in ancient Roman frescoes: you - a tragic figure, and I''ll be with an easel, as if creating a masterpiece.

    Marie laughed even louder as she imagined this picture.

    "Or, you know," she added, catching her breath, "we could pretend it was an artistic idea: ''Delay as a performance element.'' I think that would work!"

    "Brilliant," Lumine said, her face lighting up with a smile. "We weren''t late, we were just creating art in motion."

    Marie nodded, pleased with her idea, and they both finally reached the academy, overtaking students hurrying to their classes.

    ¡°This is our moment of truth,¡± Marie whispered, looking at the huge doors of the academy.

    "Let''s not panic," Lumine said quietly, "let''s just walk and smile. Maybe no one will notice."

    They quietly crept into the classroom, trying not to give themselves away. As soon as they entered, their gaze met the teacher, a gray-haired man with sharp features and a piercing gaze. He was standing at the board and seemed to have already begun to notice that some of the students were missing.

    ¡°Enjoy your morning inspiration,¡± he said unexpectedly, without taking his eyes off their faces.

    Marie and Lumine froze, exchanging quick glances before stepping forward.

    ¡°Sorry, we were a little... delayed on the way,¡± Marie said, trying to sound confident.

    The teacher looked at them silently for a few more seconds, then nodded slightly and, turning to the board, said:

    - Sit down. Let''s see how your lateness will affect your work.

    Marie and Lumine breathed a sigh of relief as they hurried to their seats, their hearts still pounding but with satisfied smiles on their faces.

    The days at the academy became a whole new world for Marie and Lumine, filled with colors, ideas, and the daily bustle of creativity. Every morning they met at the threshold of the academy, sometimes sleepy, sometimes in anticipation of a new day, but always ready for something unexpected to come.

    Their days usually began with composition classes. The spacious classroom, filled with easels and models, became their second home. The teacher, always strict and reserved, but not without a sense of humor, liked to joke about their attempts to capture the essence of art.

    "Mari," he said to her one morning, watching her change the position of the figure on the canvas yet again, "it''s as if you''re no longer painting from nature, but your own fantasy world. What do you have there? A fairy or an ancient goddess?"

    Marie was embarrassed, but answered with a smile:

    - Maybe it''s a mixture of both? Art should always be fantasy, right?

    - Yes, but don''t forget that fairies are also subject to the laws of physics, - the teacher chuckled. - Catch her, otherwise she''ll fly away.

    Lumine, sitting next to her, couldn''t help but laugh.

    - Marie, your fairies are a separate universe. They clearly resist the rules of our world.

    ¡°And your portraits are like from another planet,¡± Marie retorted, nudging Lumine slightly with her elbow. ¡°How do you manage to make the eyes so huge?¡±

    Lumine shrugged, looking at her canvas, where the image of the man did indeed have somewhat exaggerated features.

    - Well, sometimes I just draw the way I think is right. And you know, people with big eyes find it easier to express emotions. They can tell a whole story with just one look!

    The teacher just shook his head, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

    "Art is not just an accurate reproduction of reality," he continued, "but also your own interpretation of the world. And I see that each of you has your own unique view on how to show it.

    After these words, Marie thought about her style. Her works were always distinguished by a special softness and fantasy. She loved to introduce elements of magic into her paintings, adding light flashes of light that seemed to come from the heroes of her works themselves. Sometimes these were characters from ancient legends, sometimes - just fictional images. Lumine, on the contrary, always painted with an emphasis on details: her characters always had expressive eyes, bright accents in clothing and even the smallest folds of fabric.

    After morning classes, it was time for lunch, when they could relax a little. They would sit in the academic cafe, exchanging jokes and stories about the lessons that had just taken place.

    "It would probably be easier to draw an elephant today than this model," Lumine said, biting into her sandwich. "She was moving all the time! It''s like she doesn''t understand that she''s supposed to sit still."

    "Yes, I thought she was going to fall asleep in the chair," laughed Marie, washing down her lunch with juice. "Then I decided that her pose was just another level of creative expression."

    "We may be witnessing the birth of a new movement in art," Lumine nodded seriously, pretending to support the idea. "Moving nature." Only for the most patient artists.

    "Yes, yes, definitely," Marie chimed in, figuring out how to depict a continuously moving model. "We''ll have to give her a medal for her contribution to art. And maybe a spinner to keep her busy."

    Laughter rippled through their little corner of the caf¨¦. Academic life was not only difficult, but also full of moments when they could take a break from everything, laugh, and forget for a while that they still had a lot of work to do.

    The days flew by. Each day brought new challenges: master classes where they learned to mix colors, lectures on art history where they discussed great masterpieces of the past, and endless hours at their easels. The academy became their little world, where everything revolved around creativity.

    Sometimes, in the silence of the workshop, they talked about the future.

    ¡°What do you think we¡¯ll be in ten years?¡± Marie asked one day, slightly lost in thought, rolling her hand between her fingers.

    Lumine paused, squinting thoughtfully at her work.

    "I''d like to be a famous portraitist," she said with a slight smile. "You know, painting people is like looking into their souls. What about you?"

    Marie sighed, her thoughts racing ahead.

    ¡ª I always dreamed of creating something that would inspire people. Maybe illustrations for books or something like that. I want to give the world a little magic.

    Lumine looked at her with respect.

    - You know, you already do that. Your works are always special. When you look at them, you really feel something magical.

    Marie blushed slightly, but was glad to hear such words from her best friend.

    - Thank you. But I think we still have a lot of room for improvement.

    ¡°And that¡¯s good,¡± Lumine added with a sly smile. ¡°Because every day we have more and more chances to learn not to be late for classes.¡±

    They both laughed, realizing that despite their best efforts, being late was still a part of their lives. But it didn''t seem like such a big deal anymore.

    Years passed after graduating from the academy. Marie and Lumine went their separate ways, although they remained close friends. Marie had become a talented artist, and her work began to attract the attention of many. Her style was unique: soft brushstrokes, lively details that breathed life, and there was always something magical that fascinated people. Her paintings were not just images, they told stories - every stroke conveyed emotions, made you think or admire.

    She often worked in her small but cozy studio, where daylight poured through the large windows, illuminating her canvases and palettes. One day, as she was finishing a new portrait, the door to the studio creaked softly and a man entered. He was dressed in a white uniform, which immediately caught Marie''s attention. His presence was calm, but somehow tense, as if he had come with an important task.

    Marie looked up from her work, noticing his gaze, closely watching her movements.

    "Excuse me, can I help you?" she asked, putting down her brush and wiping her hands on a linen cloth.

    The man came closer, his face was serious, but his eyes were a little warmer than expected.

    "I''ve been watching you work for some time," he began. "Your paintings... they''re impressive. Very lifelike. I need to assign you something."

    Marie raised her eyebrows in surprise. She was always pleased with orders, but this man was clearly different from the usual customers.

    "What exactly do you want me to draw?" she asked, trying to sound professional, but inside she felt a little uneasy.

    The man smiled at the corners of his lips, but his gaze remained calm.

    - You must come to the palace. There is¡­ someone there who needs to be impersonated. He is a very important person.

    ¡ª To the palace? ¡ª Marie frowned slightly, thinking. She had never worked for such high-ranking people. ¡ª Who exactly should I draw? And why? Forgive my curiosity, but this is a rather unusual proposal.

    The man took a step forward, his white uniform glinting slightly in the light. He leaned forward, as if deliberately creating a little intrigue.

    ¡ª You will find out who exactly when you arrive. As for the purpose¡­ I can only say one thing: this portrait will remain in history. And, of course, you will be paid handsomely for it. The amount they offer will cover any of your expenses for years to come.

    Marie felt a mixture of curiosity and caution. She looked around at her paintings, wondering how her career had gone up to this point. She had been working on commission for people of all levels, but she had never encountered anything so mysterious and important. Moving to a palace? Who could this "important person" be? And what if this really was the chance that would change her life?

    Two feelings were fighting inside her: one was pulling her forward ¨C towards a new challenge, towards the opportunity to try herself in something more, and the other was persistently warning her against such a risky proposal. But the thought of a portrait that could remain in history sounded too tempting.

    ¡°But how can I agree if I don¡¯t even know who I need to draw?¡± she asked cautiously, trying to get more information.

    The man tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying her face.

    - I understand your doubts. But I assure you, it is worth your time. You just need to trust and come. Believe me, this order will be an important step in your career.

    Marie looked at her paintings again. Her mind was spinning: "What if this really is my chance? What if this work is the one that takes me to the next level? But what is this strange feeling? Why do I feel like there is something more behind this offer?"

    The man spoke again, his voice softer, almost confidential.

    "We all face choices," he said, "and sometimes you have to take a step without knowing exactly where it will lead. But I can guarantee you that this work will change your life for the better."

    Marie looked at him carefully. He spoke confidently, but she caught something more in his eyes¡ªa strange, subtle interest. She couldn¡¯t tell if it was just professional admiration for her art or something more personal.

    A short phrase flashed through his mind: "How beautiful. Not only her work, but she herself." He quickly pushed it away, remaining outwardly collected.

    Marie finally sighed and nodded.

    - Okay. I agree. When should I arrive?

    ¡°Tomorrow morning,¡± he replied, smiling slightly. ¡°The car will be waiting for you here at eight o¡¯clock. Take everything you need.¡±

    Marie watched him go, and as she closed the door behind him, she felt a surge of excitement, mixed with anxiety, flare up inside her.

    She never imagined that her life could take such a turn. Taking up her brush, she returned to her canvas, but thoughts about the mysterious order and this strange man did not leave her head.

    "What awaits me there, in the palace?"

    The next morning, Marie was still in doubt when she heard a car pull up outside her house. She looked out the window and saw a black, shiny car with tinted windows. It was strange: she hadn¡¯t given anyone her address. How could they know?

    A whirlwind of thoughts immediately started spinning in her head: "I didn''t say where I live... How would they know?" Her heart began to beat faster. She listened, then gathered everything she needed - brushes, paints, canvases - and went downstairs. When she left the house, she was met by the same man in the white uniform who had come the day before.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± he said with a slight smile, opening the car door for her. ¡°Please, get in.¡±

    Marie felt a slight tremor in her hands, but she gathered herself and got into the car. It was comfortable inside, the smell of new leather and the soft seats gave her a strange sense of luxury. As the car moved smoothly, she tried to calm down, but the tension did not go away. She glanced briefly at the man in uniform who was sitting next to her.

    "What is this place? Why is everything so strange?" Thoughts were spinning in her head, but she knew that the only way to find out the answers was to get to the palace.

    As they approached the majestic building, her heart skipped a beat. The palace was incredible: tall columns, glittering domes, and stained glass windows refracting the light. All this created a feeling of grandeur and mystical silence.

    The man, noticing her surprise, chuckled quietly.

    - Impressive, isn''t it?

    ¡°Yes...¡± was all Marie could answer, her gaze never leaving the building¡¯s fa?ade.

    They got out of the car and the man led her through the huge carved doors. Inside, everything was even more luxurious: golden chandeliers, marble floors, walls decorated with paintings, antique tapestries, and the air was filled with the quiet sounds of conversation.

    Servants, dressed in elegant uniforms, scurried along the corridors, whispering busily to each other. Marie heard snatches of phrases, something about upcoming events and a dinner for important guests. One of the servants, a young man with dark hair, smiled, noticing her curious look, and said barely audibly: "Welcome."

    Marie walked along these endless corridors, looking at the paintings that adorned the walls. They depicted scenes from past times, majestic figures, battles and royal receptions. Each step echoed softly in this vast silence, and her excitement only increased.

    ¡°It¡¯s all so...¡± Marie began, breaking the silence.

    "Impressive?" the man smiled, not slowing his pace. "You haven''t seen the most important thing yet."

    Marie looked around, feeling her gaze drowning in the wealth surrounding her.

    ¡ª Tell me¡­ why me? ¡ª she asked, not hiding her excitement. ¡ª So many artists could have done this portrait. Why did you choose me?

    The man slowed his pace briefly, as if considering his answer.

    "Your works," he began quietly, "are not just paintings. They convey something more than just appearance. They have soul. And here in the palace we need an artist who can see¡­ more.

    ¡°More?¡± Marie felt a wave of curiosity rise inside her. ¡°Who are you talking about?¡±

    The man smiled again, but this time his smile was mysterious.

    "All I can say," he replied quietly, "is that this man is very important to the future of the empire. You will have to see for yourself."

    They continued walking down the corridor, which now seemed endless. Marie felt her heart beating faster. She tried to calm herself, but her head was full of questions. "Who is this man? Why is everything being hidden from me? And what does this mean for the future of the empire?"

    As they approached the massive door, the man stopped, looking at her.

    ¡ª Are you ready?

    Marie, although she felt a slight trembling in her knees, took a deep breath and nodded.

    ¡°Ready,¡± she replied, although questions were still ringing in her head, the answers to which had yet to be found.

    The doors slowly opened, revealing a large room, bathed in soft light. In the center of the room sat an elderly woman in a wheelchair. Her chestnut hair, in which silver strands were already visible, fell over her shoulders, and her brown eyes looked at Marie with kindness and quiet wisdom. Her face was saturated with years - and not just age, but experience and power.

    A servant stood nearby, holding the carriage by the handles, and, bending slightly, introduced:

    - Your Majesty, this is the same artist, Marie, who is being talked about in the palace.

    Marie froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. Now she understood for whom she had been invited. It was the ninth empress, about whom she had heard many stories, but never thought she would see in person.

    She made a slight bow, as she had been taught, and said, trying to speak evenly despite her inner turmoil:

    - Greetings, your majesty.

    The Empress smiled, and her smile was warm, like the spring sun, which unexpectedly made Marie feel lighter.

    "Oh, there''s no need for formalities," the woman replied calmly, her voice soft and slightly hoarse, like that of someone who had lived a long life. "You''re not here to bow. Sit down, feel free."

    Marie clutched her bag tightly, feeling her palms slightly sweaty from excitement. Her thoughts were spinning around the upcoming work: "How can I relax? This is the empress..." But she tried to calm down, took a deep breath and exhaled.

    The Empress motioned for her to sit down next to her, and when Marie did so, she spoke again:

    - Everything you need is already ready. Canvas and paints, everything is selected especially for you. I only need one thing - for you to paint my portrait. You won''t mind, right?

    Marie smiled, although there were still traces of excitement inside her.

    - How can I be against it, your majesty? It is a great honor for me.

    The Empress looked at her with slight surprise, but then laughed softly.

    - Oh, in our times such words sound almost like an archaism. But I am pleased to hear that you perceive it as an honor.

    Marie nodded, feeling her tension slowly drain away. She opened her bag, took out her brushes, and looked at the canvas, already ready to work. At that moment, she suddenly felt calmer, as if her hands knew what to do.

    The Empress spoke again, but this time her voice was more serious:

    - I would like you to draw not only me. There is another person who should be in this portrait.

    Marie looked at her carefully, frowning slightly.

    - And who is this, if you don¡¯t mind asking?

    The Empress smiled, her eyes sparkling.

    "You know perfectly well who it is," she said with a hint of mystery. "The Emperor. I wish you could capture us both together."

    Marie looked down at the brushes in her hands, mentally going over the image that was already before her eyes. But she couldn''t help but wonder.

    - Where is the Emperor himself then? I would like to see him to create an accurate image.

    The Empress sighed softly and replied with a slight smile:

    - He is working now, as always. The Empire does not wait, even for the sake of art. So I ask you to draw him from memory. I hope you remember what our "sun of the empire" looks like?

    Marie felt something inside her turn over. The image of Emperor Cassian Aurelis was so clear in her mind that she could not forget it. Tall, majestic, with piercing golden eyes and white hair, he was the embodiment of strength and power.

    She smiled, more confidently this time.

    - How can I forget the sun of the empire? Its image lives in the memory of each of us.

    The Empress laughed, her laughter soft as the rustling of leaves in the wind.

    - That''s right. Then get started. I''m sure you can handle it. And don''t hesitate to ask questions if you need anything.

    Marie stood up, feeling a wave of inspiration rise within her. She walked over to the canvas and prepared to begin work. Her thoughts began to whirl again: "To paint the Emperor from memory¡­ It''s a challenge, but his face is known to everyone. I can do it." She looked again at the Empress, who looked at her with quiet wisdom and expectation.

    Marie took a deep breath and set to work, feeling as if her hands knew what to do. Every movement of the brush, every stroke seemed to be a part of her, and she already saw the future work before her - not just a portrait, but a story captured in paint.

    The Empress suddenly seemed to be lost in thought, her brown eyes shining softly in the light coming through the window. She looked at Marie with a slight smile and suddenly said:

    ¡ª You know, before you start¡­ how about painting me as a young woman? ¡ª She chuckled cheerfully. ¡ª It would look less¡­ how can I say, odd. A pensioner and a young man are not the most harmonious couple in a portrait.

    Marie couldn''t help but let out a small laugh, her tension instantly easing.

    ¡°Of course, your majesty. As you say,¡± she replied, feeling the ease of the conversation.

    The Empress smiled again, and her gaze was lost for a moment somewhere in her memories. Marie, holding a brush in her hand, turned to the canvas and slowly began to work. She closed her eyes, imagining how the Empress looked in her youth. It was a moment when she concentrated on every stroke, every brushstroke. Inside her, a feeling arose that she was recreating not just images, but real moments from the lives of these people.

    Marie started with the empress''s face. She made the contours gentle but precise. The lines of the cheekbones and chin were soft, youthful, the expression calm but determined, with a hint of that wisdom that only comes with experience. She carefully drew the chestnut hair, giving it shine and light shadows to give the image more volume. The empress''s eyes, brown and warm, she depicted with special care - this was her main accent, because through them it was possible to convey the soul of the character.

    Emperor Cassian was depicted slightly behind her, standing close to her, as if protecting her with his presence. His face, young and majestic, with short white hair and golden eyes that always inspired respect and awe. Marie tried to convey this mysterious aura - a combination of strength, eternity and serenity that emanated from the emperor. She painted them as if they were two figures united by a common destiny.

    As she worked, Marie couldn''t help but wonder, "What is the story behind these people? What is it like to be an immortal emperor who has ruled for so many years, and his wife, whose life will pass but will leave a mark in memory?"

    The hours passed quickly. The light in the room gradually changed, becoming warmer as the sun set over the horizon. Time stood still for Marie, she was completely absorbed in her work, concentrating on every detail - from the fine lines to the smallest shadows.

    Finally, when the last brushstroke was complete, she stepped back and looked at her creation with a quiet sense of satisfaction. The empress and emperor seemed alive on the canvas, their images breathing and conveying their entire complex history ¨C their youth, their grandeur, the bond that unites them.

    Marie wiped her hands on the cloth, put her hands away and, turning to the empress, said:

    - Everything is ready, your majesty.

    The Empress, noticing her gesture, slowly turned her head towards the painting. Her eyes seemed to linger on the canvas for a moment, and a barely noticeable shadow of surprise passed over her face. She smiled, but there was something more in her gaze ¨C a touching memory of those days that were left behind.

    *I like it too

    ¡°Wonderful,¡± she said finally, her voice soft but firm. ¡°I look like it was yesterday. It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve seen myself like this. It¡¯s¡­ amazing.¡±

    Marie smiled, but she couldn''t help but notice a momentary glimmer of something like sadness in the Empress''s eyes. Perhaps the thought that her youth was a thing of the past brought on a slight regret. But the Empress quickly pulled herself together and, looking at Marie, said:

    - You are a true master. This portrait will be remembered. Thank you.

    Marie lowered her head in gratitude, feeling a slight warmth inside. It was nice to hear such words from such an important person. But at the same time, there was a strange feeling in her soul, as if this portrait symbolized something more - not just a moment, but an entire era.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad I was able to live up to your expectations,¡± Marie replied, feeling her excitement finally subside.

    The Empress looked at the portrait for a long time, her brown eyes following every stroke, every nuance of light and shadow, as if she were looking not at an image, but into the very essence of her past. The slight smile on her lips trembled like a sunbeam on water, but deep sadness hid in her eyes.

    Marie noticed this. Feeling that the silence had become too heavy, she asked timidly:

    - Your Majesty... Are you satisfied with the result?

    The Empress exhaled slowly, looked away from the canvas and looked at Marie.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy,¡± she answered quietly, but there was something in her voice that made Marie feel a slight pang of pain. ¡°But you know, Marie¡­ Seeing yourself young is like seeing a reflection in water. You can¡¯t touch it, and with each passing moment it blurs more and more, disappears. And what remains? Only memories.

    Marie felt her heart tighten. She stood before the Empress, feeling both respect and sympathy. Her voice, barely audible, broke the silence:

    ¡ª The past always seems unattainable to us, but it still lives in us. Your Majesty, your youth has not gone without a trace. It is¡­ here. ¡ª Marie pointed to her heart. ¡ª In every person who has ever admired you, who has heard of you.

    The Empress looked at Marie with gratitude, but the sadness in her eyes remained. She raised her hand, gesturing for Marie to come closer. When Marie was very close, the Empress slowly placed her hand on her wrist.

    "You know," she began again, her voice warm but quiet, "sometimes I think the hardest thing in life is not being old... but staying alive. People pass away, entire generations pass, and you''re still here. You look at the faces that change, at their joys, at their suffering, but you know that your role... it''s already over.

    Marie felt a lump in her throat. She didn''t know what to say, because how can you comfort someone who has lived such a long life, seeing everything around you change, and you remain?

    "But is your role over?" she asked cautiously. "Don''t you continue to inspire people? After all, the empire exists thanks to you and the emperor. Your deeds live in the hearts of millions.

    The Empress smiled slightly, but her eyes were still sad.

    ¡°You¡¯re young, Marie. And there¡¯s so much sincerity in your words that I can almost believe them. But you know, when you¡¯re my age, you start to see the world differently. Cassian and I¡­ We¡¯ve lived the longest. But what¡¯s the price of that life?¡± She paused for a moment, as if weighing her thoughts. ¡°We watch our children grow up and leave. We watch the people we care about disappear. And each time, a part of us goes with them.¡±

    Marie felt tears start to well up in her eyes, but she held them back, not wanting to show weakness in front of the Empress. Instead, she took her hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, hoping that the gesture would convey at least a little warmth.

    ¡°But you¡¯re still here,¡± Marie whispered. ¡°And while you¡¯re here, you mean more to all of us than you can possibly imagine.¡±

    The Empress looked at her with surprise, then her lips twitched and she smiled slightly.

    - You are very kind, Marie. And I am glad that I chose you for this portrait. You see more than just faces. You see souls.

    Marie hung her head, feeling touched. She didn''t know what to say, but she knew that these words were important.

    The Empress slowly released her hand and looked at the portrait again.

    ¡ª This portrait will be a reminder of the time when Cassian and I were young. When we thought the world was open to us, that we had eternity ahead of us. But eternity is not a gift, it is a test.

    Marie listened silently, realizing that before her was revealed not just an empress, but a woman whose life was filled with both greatness and loss.

    "Your work is not just a portrait," the empress continued. "It is a memory. And for this memory I am very grateful to you."

    Marie felt a wave of emotion rise in her chest. She nodded silently, and at that moment her words were not needed. A connection had been established between them that could not be expressed through ordinary conversations.

    The Empress looked at Marie again, and her eyes softened.

    "Go and rest, Marie. We''ll talk again tomorrow. But today..." She smiled, and something warm and maternal appeared on her face, "you deserve peace."

    Marie made a slight bow, feeling that her heart would remember this conversation for a long time. She quietly left the room, leaving the empress alone with her thoughts and the portrait, which was not just an image, but a reflection of an entire life.

    As Marie quietly closed the door behind her, she suddenly saw a familiar man in a white uniform standing by the door. He still looked as collected and confident as ever, but now a slight, almost friendly smile appeared on his face.

    "You must be tired," he said softly, as if he didn''t want to frighten her. "Please, come with me. You''ve been given a room to rest in."

    Marie raised her eyebrows in surprise. A room in a palace? That sounded completely unexpected.

    ¡°Me?¡± she said, feeling her inner excitement mingle with a slight panic. ¡°At the palace? But¡­ maybe you could just take me home? I don¡¯t need to stay here overnight.

    The man bowed his head slightly, still smiling, but there was a soft insistence in his voice.

    - Tomorrow you still have to draw one more person. So it would be better if you stayed. Besides, you deserve a rest.

    Marie sighed, knowing that there was no point in arguing. After all, tomorrow was going to be just as important as today, and perhaps she really should accept this hospitality. Although she still felt a sense of unreality inside her, she nodded in agreement.

    The man led her through the long corridors of the palace, lit by the soft light of elegant crystal chandeliers. The floors, covered with luxurious carpets, muffled the sound of their footsteps, creating an atmosphere of comfort and peace. Marie noticed how guards stood at each door, silently but attentively monitoring the order, and servants passed by, quietly talking among themselves. She felt a little out of place among this luxury, but at the same time she could not help but admire how carefully every detail of this space was thought out.

    ¡°This is your first time here, isn¡¯t it?¡± the man suddenly asked, interrupting her thoughts.

    Marie nodded, feeling that there was no point in hiding her surprise.

    - Yes... I never thought I''d see the palace from the inside. Everything here seems so... different.

    The man chuckled, but his gaze remained serious.

    ¡ª The palace is a special place. Everything here is steeped in history. But behind this luxury are hidden years of power, suffering, joy and loss.

    These words made Marie think. She looked around at the paintings on the walls ¨C faces, scenes, symbols of power and wealth. And yet, hidden behind this beauty were the destinies of people who had experienced much more than the portraits could tell.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± the man finally said, opening the door for her.

    Marie, not expecting anything special, stepped forward and suddenly froze, her eyes widening in surprise. The room she found herself in was truly luxurious. High ceilings decorated with stucco, gold details, velvet curtains that flowed along the sides of a huge window overlooking the garden. In the center of the room stood a bed with a magnificent canopy, and on the opposite wall hung a painting - a landscape that seemed to literally breathe life.

    ¡°Is this for me?¡± she finally asked, her voice shaking slightly with surprise.

    The man nodded reservedly.

    - Yes, you have been assigned this room for the duration of your stay at the palace. Please rest. Tomorrow is an important day for you.

    Marie walked to the window, watching the last rays of the sunset gently touch the horizon. The air was filled with the scent of fresh flowers, coming from the bouquet on the nightstand. She still couldn¡¯t believe that she was in such a place ¨C a palace, luxury, tasks that she could not even imagine.

    ¡°This is too much,¡± she whispered, but a smile began to spread across her face. Part of her wanted to just enjoy this moment, although another part still resisted this unexpected change in her life.

    The man seemed to sense her hesitation and said quietly:

    - Everything that happens is not accidental. You are here on business, and I am sure that you will cope. Rest. The morning will be full of new tasks.

    Marie thanked him and he left, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She looked around the room again and realized that this was not just a bedroom - it was a place where she could collect her thoughts, prepare for tomorrow and perhaps begin a new path in her life.

    "Why am I here? Why did they choose me?" - these questions still hovered in her head, but now she no longer felt the same anxiety. Tomorrow would bring answers. But for now - the night belonged only to her.

    The next morning, Marie found herself in a new, even more luxurious room. She sat on a soft sofa, her gaze sliding over the details of the interior. In the corner, by the wall, stood a fireplace with ornate carvings, which seemed to have been there for an eternity, its marble portal decorated with small bas-reliefs. The walls, hung with paintings, were surrounded by shelves with books - hundreds of volumes, each book seemed ancient, with covers faded over time and yellowed pages. Marie could not take her eyes off these shelves. She had always loved books, and this room seemed to beckon her with its knowledge and wisdom.

    "Who does this room belong to?" she thought. "So many books, paintings... It''s like the entire history of the empire is here. I wonder who usually spends their time here?"

    Marie sighed, nervously stroking the fabric of her skirt. The day before, she had been in the shadow of the empress''s majesty, and today she was about to meet the emperor himself. Thoughts swirled in her head, and the excitement squeezed her chest more and more with each passing moment.

    Suddenly, the door opened quietly and Emperor Cassian walked into the room. His presence instantly filled the entire room. He was as majestic as expected: his short white hair was neatly styled, emphasizing his youth and energy, but what caught Marie''s attention most were his eyes - golden, with snake-like pupils. These eyes were cold, but there was an unimaginable depth and strength in them, as if he saw through the centuries and the secrets of the world.

    Marie immediately jumped up from the sofa, her heart beating faster. She tried to bow, but her legs were shaking, and her voice sounded louder than she expected, with a slight stutter:

    ¡ª Greetings... sun of the empire!

    Cassian stood by the door, his head bowed slightly, his gaze calm but penetrating.

    ¡°No need,¡± he said briefly, but not rudely. ¡°Sit down.¡±

    Marie, feeling like her legs were about to fail her, slowly returned to the sofa. She tried to maintain her composure, but her inner turmoil still lingered. After all, she was standing in front of an immortal emperor whose strength and power were legendary.

    ¡°I ask you to draw my portrait,¡± Cassian said, watching her reaction.

    Marie blinked, lowering her eyes slightly, trying to hide her embarrassment.

    "Your portrait, Your Majesty?" She paused, then asked cautiously, "Who would you like to be depicted with?"

    Cassian raised his eyebrows as if the question amused him, but there was no hint of a smile on his face.

    "With anyone," he answered calmly, his voice deep and even. "Even if it''s your choice. If you want to draw me alone, then draw me. If you want someone nearby, then so be it.

    Marie felt her inner tension turn into relief. It seemed that this order was much more free than she had expected.

    ¡°As you say, Your Majesty,¡± she replied, feeling more confident.

    Cassian nodded, then motioned with his hand, and they headed into the room that was designated for work. It was a large, bright room, with tall windows that overlooked the garden. In the center of the room stood a massive chair with a high carved back¡ªthe seat for the emperor.

    Cassian sat up, his posture perfect, his face calm yet majestic.

    ¡°I hope you can surprise me,¡± he said, his eyes staring at Marie as if trying to read her intentions.

    Marie sat in front of the canvas, her fingers confident on her brushes, but still feeling a little tremor inside. This wasn''t just a portrait¡ªit was an opportunity to show something more than just an image of the emperor.

    She began slowly, applying the first brushstrokes, focusing on Cassian''s features. She made his white hair soft, light as moonlight, hiding centuries of wisdom. His eyes, golden and cold, were difficult to paint. They needed to capture not only power and eternity, but also the hidden strength that made him who he was.

    Marie couldn''t help but think of his words: "I hope you can surprise me." Her hands continued to work automatically, but determination was flaring up inside her. This portrait had to be more than just a likeness - it had to tell the story of the emperor, to show his essence, what is hidden from the simple view.

    "You know, Your Majesty," she said after a while, "when I paint, I always try to see a person more deeply. Your portrait is not just a work, it''s like... an attempt to capture your soul."

    Cassian looked at her carefully, his golden eyes fixed on her face as if he was trying to discern how sincere her words were.

    ¡°And what do you see?¡± he asked quietly, without taking his eyes off her.

    Marie froze for a moment, her hand still. She felt a slight chill run down her spine. Should she tell the truth or just smile and avoid answering?

    "I see strength, your majesty," she finally whispered, "but also loneliness. Being immortal¡­ it must be hard."

    Cassian looked away for a moment, his eyes softening slightly.

    "You are perceptive for your youth," he said, his voice quiet but with a note in it that Marie could not detect. "But not all who see loneliness are able to understand it."

    Marie, continuing to paint, felt an invisible connection between them. She did not know whether her portrait would be good enough to "surprise" the Emperor, but she knew one thing: her art had to convey what was hidden behind his external coldness.

    "I hope I can show it," she thought, every stroke of her brush filled with this thought.

    Marie, absorbed in her work, slowly came to the realization that the emperor alone would not be enough. Every time her gaze slid over his face, she felt something strange ¨C an incompleteness, as if he were surrounded by an unknown shadow. "He is not alone," she suddenly realized. Not literally, of course, but deep down, somewhere behind the cold exterior, there was something. A shadow, a memory, perhaps a person she did not know, but who should have been next to him in this portrait.

    Her hand, without hesitation, began to create the second character. She did not think too much about the details - everything happened as if by itself. This person had to be part of this story, and she saw him very clearly: black hair, bright blue eyes with a cold white tint. These eyes were the opposite of Cassian''s, but they had the same depth and mystery. There was no power in them, but there was something very personal, intimate, something that connected the two of them.

    When Marie had finished her work, she stepped back, looking at the canvas. The Emperor, with his white hair and golden eyes, and next to him, this unknown man with dark hair and an icy gaze. Together, they created a strange contrast: light and darkness, power and calm, but they were connected by something invisible, indescribable.

    She nervously ran her hand over her forehead, brushing away a few strands of hair that had stuck to her face, and turned to the Emperor, who had been silently watching her work the entire time. Trying to hide her excitement, she said:

    - Everything is ready, your majesty. I... would like to show you.

    Cassian, who had remained motionless until now, slowly rose from his chair and came closer. His golden eyes studied the painting carefully, but his expression did not change. However, Marie noticed how he held his breath for a moment as his gaze fell on the figure of the second man.

    "Who is this?" His voice was quiet, but there was bewilderment in it. He continued to stare at the portrait, as if trying to solve some riddle hidden in the brushstrokes.

    Marie froze, her heart beating faster. She had expected him to ask this question, but she didn''t know how to answer it exactly. It had only been her creative inspiration, but now, looking at the emperor, she felt that she might have gotten into some very personal and important story.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know, Your Majesty,¡± she began, struggling to find the words. ¡°It was an image that came to my mind when I was drawing you. I felt that this person should be near you. I don¡¯t know why, but it seemed to me that his presence was important.¡±

    Cassian didn''t answer right away. He continued to stare at the painting, his face calm, but Marie caught something, like a faint shadow passed through his eyes, something that reminded her of sadness.

    Marie felt that the man in the painting was more than just a figment of her imagination. He might have meant something to Cassian, might have been someone important.

    She looked down, considering her own feelings as Cassian remained silent. He is so alone, she thought. Not like the Empress¡­ She was warm, even her sadness was enveloping. But Cassian¡­ he is like ice. He has so much strength, but underneath it there is an endless loneliness.

    These thoughts suddenly flooded her, and she looked at Cassian again. Why was he examining the portrait so closely? What did he see in this second person? Perhaps it was someone he had lost long ago? Or someone whose memory remained painful to him?

    She didn''t dare interrupt his thoughts, but inside she was overcome with confusion. "Maybe I did something wrong?" flashed through her mind. However, deep down she knew that her choice was right. This second person was an integral part of the emperor.

    Cassian finally turned to face her, his eyes still cold, but now there was something in them that Marie couldn''t recognize¡ªa mixture of surprise and¡­ approval?

    ¡°Interesting,¡± he said slowly. ¡°This man¡­¡± He paused for a moment, then added, ¡°You saw something most people don¡¯t. You are truly insightful, Marie.¡±

    Marie felt her face turn a little red at these words, but she tried to look confident.

    - Thank you, your majesty. I just wanted to convey what I felt.

    Cassian nodded, his gaze still fixed on the portrait.

    - I hope that this feeling was correct. Perhaps you have revealed something that even I have long forgotten.

    His words hung in the air, and Marie didn''t know what to say. Her thoughts were still occupied with this mystery - who was this man with black hair and blue eyes?

    Cassian stared at the portrait, his golden eyes seeming to take in every detail. But his thoughts were already swirling around Marie, standing next to him. "Interesting girl," flashed through his mind. "Sees things even I don''t notice¡­"

    His face remained impassive, but a slight, barely noticeable smile crept into the corners of his lips. He finally straightened up slowly, turned to Marie, and in a light tone that sounded almost like a confession, said:

    - I liked it. As I promised, you will receive a large sum for your work. Tomorrow you will be taken back home. And I think the rumors about you being a master of your craft were true.

    Marie couldn''t hide her embarrassment when she heard these words. Her heart was still beating fast and her thoughts were confused by the unexpected praise. She looked away, feeling her cheeks turn slightly pink. Despite all the confidence she had put into her work, she now felt like she was being praised too much.

    "Your Majesty," she began, smiling slightly embarrassedly, "you probably overestimate me. I simply did what seemed right to me. I... can''t call myself a master, that''s too strong a word."

    Cassian raised an eyebrow slightly, and something like mild surprise flickered in his eyes, as if he rarely encountered such humble people in his circle. His golden eyes studied her face carefully.

    "Modesty is a rare quality among those who consider themselves masters," he said, bowing his head slightly. "But, Marie, you see what others do not notice. That is your mastery. Sometimes it is more important to see the soul than to simply convey the appearance. And that is what you have done."

    Marie lowered her eyes and clasped her hands slightly, as if trying to find the words to explain her feelings. She wanted to say something else, but she knew that arguing with the Emperor was not the best idea. Her inner voice whispered that she had done something important, but the feeling that she was simply following her instincts was stronger.

    "I was just trying to capture what I felt," she said quietly. "And maybe sometimes I think it''s not so much talent as... luck. I''m glad you liked it, but I''m far from perfect."

    Cassian chuckled slightly, his eyes softening a little, as if he was pleasantly surprised by her words.

    "Luck, you say?" he said, nodding slightly. "Luck has nothing to do with it. You have the rare gift of seeing more than is on the surface. People may call themselves masters of technique, but only a few can grasp what is hidden in the eyes and hearts of others. And you are one of those few.

    Marie felt her heart beat even faster. The words made her feel both proud and embarrassed. She slowly looked up at Cassian, trying to discern how sincere his words were. But in those golden eyes, despite their coldness, she saw something that touched her.

    "He is alone," she thought again, her thoughts returning to what she had seen in the portrait. It seemed to her that behind that coldness and power there was an abyss of loneliness that could never be filled. Cassian was eternal, but that did not make him free.

    She found it difficult to find the words:

    "Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesty. But perhaps it is because..." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I think there is more to every person if you look closely enough."

    The Emperor nodded, his gaze becoming thoughtful.

    - This, Marie, is the power of art. Sometimes it can show what a person doesn¡¯t know about himself.

    He came closer to the painting, looking again at the man with black hair and bright blue eyes depicted next to him. Cassian was silent for a long moment, and Marie noticed how his lips pressed together slightly, and his gaze slowed, as if he was absorbed in a memory he didn''t intend to share with anyone.

    Finally, the Emperor, slowly raising his hand and touching the edge of the painting with his fingers, said, as if talking more to himself:

    ¡ª It¡¯s interesting that you were able to grasp¡­ even things that I had long forgotten.

    Marie wanted to ask who this man was, but she held back her curiosity. She felt that this moment was too personal, and her task now was simply to be there, without disturbing the silence.

    "You surprised me, Marie," he said a little louder, stepping back from the canvas and looking at her again. "And not many can boast of that."

    Marie was embarrassed again, but this time her embarrassment was mixed with pride.

    ¡°Thank you, your majesty,¡± she replied with a slight smile. ¡°It is a great honor for me.¡±

    Cassian nodded, his face returning to its usual calm, but now there was a warm sparkle in his eyes.

    ¡°Tomorrow you will return home, as agreed,¡± he continued. ¡°But know that I will remember this portrait. And perhaps this will not be the last time you will find yourself here in the palace.¡±

    Marie felt her heart flutter. These words sounded like a harbinger of something greater, but what exactly, she did not yet know.

    Marie finished her story with a sigh, her gaze wandering somewhere in the distance, as if she were back in the very room where she had once met Emperor Cassian. The children sitting in front of her listened with bated breath, their eyes shining with interest, and their faces expressing respect and admiration.

    "This is what I remember about him," Marie said quietly, her voice filled with warmth, but also a little sadness. "I saw him in person and spoke with him. It was a great honor for me then, and even now, after so many years, I remember our conversation, every word he said.

    She paused, thinking for a moment, and then added, with a slight hint of sadness in her voice:

    - At that moment I thought he would outlive me. But I was wrong.

    Her words hung in the air, and silence filled the room. The children, as if enchanted by her story, looked at her, and seemed to be trying to imagine what Cassian was like, what his voice sounded like, and what his mysterious golden eyes looked like.

    Mom, who had been silently listening to the story until then, suddenly leaned forward, frowning slightly.

    "So you really did meet him, Marie?" she asked cautiously, as if she didn''t quite believe it. "But you always said it was so long ago..."

    Marie smiled slightly, her gaze warming.

    - It was a long time ago, yes. And it all seems so far away, as if it was in another life. But... I remember everything. This day has remained in my memory forever.

    ¡°What did he tell you?¡± one of the children asked with genuine curiosity, fingering the edges of his shirt as if in anticipation.

    "He said I surprised him," Marie smiled softly, remembering. "And that it was a rare thing. He was strict, but at the same time there was something very... human about him. And despite his strength and power, I always saw him not just as a ruler, but as a person who also experienced feelings - loneliness, regret... even loss.

    ¡°He seemed so strong, so eternal,¡± Mom added, joining the conversation. ¡°But I never thought that an immortal emperor could have weaknesses.¡±

    Marie nodded slowly.

    ¡ª So many thought. But the longer you live, the more you lose. And despite his strength, I think loneliness was what consumed him most. He had seen so many centuries, and that meant he had seen everything he held dear go.

    The children were silent, trying to comprehend what they had heard. At that moment, it became clear that even such a majestic figure as the emperor was not free from pain and loss.

    One of the children, a girl with bright blue eyes, said quietly:

    - You know, grandma... he doesn''t seem so scary to me. I thought he was cold and cruel, but you described him in a completely different way.

    Marie looked at her granddaughter with warmth and smiled slightly.

    "He was a complicated man. But even the strongest people can be vulnerable, my dear. It''s important to remember that every person, even someone as great as Cassian, had their own story and their own feelings.

    The children''s mother stood up, shaking her head slightly.

    "We all knew him as a great ruler, but your story, Marie, suggests that his story was much deeper than just his reign. And perhaps no one ever knew what he was really like.

    Marie took a deep breath, once again falling into her thoughts.

    "Perhaps," she said softly. "But I am happy that for a moment I saw in him not only a ruler, but also a man. That moment will remain in my memory forever."

    The children sitting on the floor remained silent for a while, and then one of the boys suddenly stood up cheerfully and said:

    - But, Grandma, you still outlived him! He was immortal, but you... you''re still here with us!

    Everyone laughed, and even Marie couldn''t hold back her laughter, which filled the room with warmth and life.

    She leaned over, hugged her grandchildren, and, looking up at their mother, whispered:

    - Maybe it''s true. Immortality is not in how many years you live, but in how long you will be remembered. And perhaps the most important thing is the mark we leave in the hearts of others.

    The chapter came to an end, but there remained an invisible thread in it, connecting the past and the present, stories and lives that continue to live in memories, like a warm light illuminating the future.

 History of the Empire

    History of the Empire

    The next day, the family went to a museum that had once been an imperial palace. This palace was so huge that its area exceeded the size of three Moscow capitals. Mom, Dad, the children and Grandma Marie walked slowly along wide corridors that seemed to never end. The ceilings, high and decorated with mosaics, created a sense of ancient grandeur.

    - Look, - said Grandma Marie, turning to Mom, - what a majestic palace. It is larger than your entire capital. It is hard to even imagine that this was the home of one person.

    Mom walked alongside with a surprised look, examining the tall columns and massive doors that led into closed halls.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe a place like this even exists,¡± she said quietly, her voice full of admiration. ¡°How could someone build something so big?¡±

    The children walked a little ahead, looking in admiration at the paintings and statues. They held hands with their father, who told them the history of the empire.

    ¡°Grandma,¡± the girl suddenly asked with genuine curiosity, ¡°so you lived here? Did you walk along these corridors?¡±

    Grandma smiled slightly, her eyes sparkling with memories.

    ¡°Just one day, my dear. I have lived here only one day,¡± she replied. ¡°And even in that time I have not seen a tenth of its grandeur. And even now,¡± she added with a hint of mystery, ¡°not all of the palace is open to ordinary people. They say that something important is hidden deep within the palace, inaccessible to prying eyes.

    Dad, looking around, said:

    ¡°Of course, I haven¡¯t been here before, but I heard that the palace is divided into three large parts.

    Grandma nodded, smiling at her thoughts:

    ¡°If my memory serves me right,¡± she began, frowning slightly as she recalled, ¡°these wereAurea, Solaris and Eterna.Each of these parts was unique. And the palace itself was called the Temple of Eternity. A beautiful, majestic place.

    The children simultaneously repeated the name with delight:

    ¡ªTemple of Eternity¡­ Beautiful!

    Grandmother stopped, and the family followed suit. They found themselves in front of a portrait of Emperor Cassian in his full imperial uniform. In the portrait, Cassian stood proudly in his majesty, his golden eyes looking into the distance, and around him stood people kneeling before his might. Next to him stood two beast-men: one a fox, with red ears and tail, the other a wolf, with a powerful figure and gray eyes.

    Mom looked at the portrait for a long time, then turned to grandma and asked:

    ¡ª I keep thinking... Why are the beastmen avoiding us now? Why are we so rarely seeing them these days?

    Grandma laughed, her voice mocking.

    ¡°Not us, but you,¡± she said with a sly smile. ¡°Because you¡¯re ugly. I still don¡¯t understand why my son married you.¡±

    Dad, trying to contain his laughter, said carefully:

    - Mom, calm down, please.

    Grandma waved her hand.

    ¡°Okay, okay, I won¡¯t joke,¡± she replied, but her eyes were still laughing. ¡°However,¡± she added, ¡°the beastmen do meet less often with people. Perhaps they just prefer to stay in their forests and mountains.¡±

    The children, not paying attention to the adults¡¯ teasing, ran up to their grandmother and, pulling her by the hand, asked:

    - Grandma, tell us about one beastman! That you remember!

    The grandmother thought for a moment, looking at the portrait, and then, sighing heavily, said:

    - Okay, I¡¯ll tell you a story...

    The family continued to walk slowly down the corridors, and the grandmother began to tell her story, her voice becoming softer, immersing everyone in memories of the distant past.

    - It was many years ago.

    Renard, a fox-beast with red hair and bright green eyes, stood near Emperor Cassian, who had finally allowed himself to rest in a hammock swinging in the quiet, peaceful garden.Eterny - the most secluded part of the palaceThere was complete silence all around, broken only by the whisper of the wind in the treetops and the quiet splash of the fountain.

    Cassian, the Eternal Ruler, had just finished three sleepless nights of work, deep in his work. His white hair lay softly on the pillow, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was regular. Renard crossed his arms over his chest, watching the Emperor, who had finally allowed himself to relax.

    ¡°Finally, this stubborn man has gone to bed,¡± Renard thought, frowning. ¡°Three days without sleep... Even immortals need rest. And only now he allows himself to relax.¡±

    Renard sighed softly and glanced around, noticing a small cloth lying on the bench. He carefully approached the hammock, trying not to wake the Emperor, and gently covered his shoulders. ¡°You¡¯ll catch a cold,¡± he muttered under his breath with a small smile. This act of care was clearly not typical of Renard, but deep down he felt responsible for Cassian.

    Renard turned and took his place again, glancing out at the garden. His green eyes glittered in the light filtering through the foliage, but there was a playful sparkle in their depths. His next plan was already swirling in his head.

    ¡°So, who should I choose as my victim today?¡± he wondered, leaning slightly against the tree that stood next to the hammock. He had a natural gift for turning any serious moment into a joke, and Renard got real pleasure from his pranks.

    ¡°Marcus?¡± was the first thought that flashed through his mind. This captain of the guard was so serious and straightforward that any jokes at his expense brought Renard a special pleasure. ¡°Oh, yes... Marcus hates it when I start joking with him. How funny he is when he tries to be so stern. Maybe I should hide his favorite sabre or plant a fake note about a supposedly important meeting?¡±

    But then Renard smiled even wider.

    ¡°Or maybe it would be better to make fun of Sebastian? The butler is always too polite and calm, it is so difficult to upset him. He is a real mystery. I can arrange for him to meet some fake ¡°guest¡± or a secret order from the emperor, and see how he reacts.¡±

    Renard looked thoughtfully at his reflection in the fountain water.

    However, why not try something new? Maybe put on a little show for all the palace servants? Or something more fun for the courtiers at the next meeting? - his thoughts ran faster, turning into a bizarre kaleidoscope of plans and jokes.

    A mischievous glint came into Renard¡¯s eyes. He sat up, casting one last glance at Cassian, who was sleeping peacefully, and chuckled quietly to himself.

    ¡°Yes, this is going to be a fun day,¡± he thought. ¡°But I won¡¯t overdo it. Although, if I do overdo it¡­ well, it won¡¯t be such a bad thing. Someone has to keep the palace merry, right?¡±

    He continued to think over his plans, waiting for the right moment to put them into action, leaving Cassian to enjoy a rare moment of peace.

    His thoughts took him back to the distant past, to the day he first met the Emperor. It was like yesterday. A small boy named Michael was kneeling before Cassian, not daring to raise his head.

    Everything around him seemed huge and imposing - the great emperor, the palace, and this endless power emanating from Cassian. The boy was stunned and scared, but at the same time he felt excited.

    ¡°What is your name?¡± asked the emperor.

    The boy swallowed nervously and said:

    - Michael, your majesty.

    Cassian looked thoughtfully at the child, his snow-white hair swaying slightly in the silence, his golden eyes, with their snake-like pupils, glittering against his impassive face.

    ¡°That name doesn¡¯t suit you,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Your name will be Renard from now on.¡±

    ¡°As you command, your majesty,¡± the boy said, not understanding what this new name meant, but feeling something important in it.

    ¡°Raise your head,¡± Cassian said, his voice soft but commanding.

    Renard slowly raised his gaze and saw the Emperor¡¯s face for the first time. The majesty of that face, the white hair that seemed to glow in the shadows, and the eyes full of strength surprised him. The boy involuntarily blushed. He felt small and insignificant in front of that figure.

    ¡°Do you have any questions?¡± Cassian suddenly asked.

    Renard, gathering his courage, muttered:

    - Yes, your majesty. Can I become the captain of the special fox squad and take my father¡¯s place?

    Cassian smiled slightly, and for a moment his eyes softened a little.

    - Of course you can. Is anyone stopping you from doing so?

    The boy didn¡¯t know what to say. The words sounded so simple, but there was so much more behind them. It was permission. It was the beginning of a new path. And it was that moment that changed his whole life.

    Renard, now an adult, stood next to Cassian again, watching him sleep peacefully. It seemed to him that Cassian had hardly changed in all these years, as if time had not touched him.

    ¡°I wonder,¡± thought Renard, looking at the sleeping emperor. ¡°If I hadn¡¯t met him then, would I have become who I am now? Would I have become the captain of a company of foxes, like my father?¡±

    He sighed, looking closely at Cassian¡¯s face. Despite all the years, he still couldn¡¯t answer that question.

    ¡°Why am I so drawn to you?¡± Renard thought, feeling a familiar wave of strange feelings. ¡°And why is everyone else drawn to you too? What is your secret?¡±

    Renard couldn¡¯t find an answer. There was something about Cassian that was inexplicable. Majesty, power, some elusive charisma. But it was more than that. In his presence, Renard always felt part of something bigger, something important, as if with Cassian he was more than just Renard, more than the captain. It was something else, something deeper.

    ¡°He is eternal,¡± Renard thought, studying the emperor¡¯s features. ¡°But even immortality does not answer that question. Even if we live forever, we remain vulnerable to this attraction. The only question is, why?¡±

    His thoughts grew deeper, but his gaze remained fixed on Cassian¡¯s face.

    ¡°Everyone who was close to him stayed. We all strive to be close to him, but none of us know why. The Empress, his children, his generals¡­ even me. Why did I choose this path? Why did I choose to stay close to him?¡±

    Deep down, Renard knew the answer, but he couldn¡¯t put it into words. Cassian wasn¡¯t just an emperor, he was a symbol of strength, power, and... loneliness.

    ¡°Maybe I stay with him because deep down I¡¯m afraid of being as lonely as he is,¡± Renard thought, frowning. ¡°Maybe because I see in him what I fear in myself - that loneliness, that endless emptiness that can never be filled.¡±

    He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the gentle breeze rustle his hair.

    ¡°Or maybe I just admire him. His strength. His cold determination. There¡¯s something about him that I can never achieve. And that¡¯s what makes him so attractive to all of us.¡±

    Renard sighed, thinking about how many years had passed since they first met. He had seen people change, come and go, but Cassian remained the same.

    ¡°Why do I want you to be around forever, Cassian?¡± he asked himself in his mind. But there was no answer. He only felt an inner connection that could not be broken, even if he wanted to.

    ¡°You are the center of our world, Cassian. And even if I sometimes make fun of you, if I try to upset you, I will always come back to you. Because without you, nothing makes sense.¡±

    Renard looked at the sleeping emperor, and a small smile appeared on his face. At that moment, he realized that the answer was not so important. All that mattered was that he was there.

    Renard, standing next to the hammock where Cassian slept, was not only a loyal captain and protector, but also the head of an ancient house whose history was intertwined with that of the empire. He belonged to House Felinarius, a house renowned for its cunning, guile, and loyalty to the crown. House Felinarius, a fox-beast race, had served the emperor for centuries. They were a family with an impeccable reputation, for their skill and insight made them the finest scouts and spies.

    Renard was the youngest of his kind, and was trained from childhood in the ancient traditions of his family, to be not only cunning and clever, but also loyal. However, his encounter with Cassian changed his destiny forever. As a boy, still known as Michael, he first knelt before the Emperor and, having received a new name from him, realized that his life would never be the same again.

    ¡°Renard Felinarius¡± ¡ª it sounded like an honor, like a burden, like a calling. The House of Fox had always been on the side of the Empire, but Renard was more than just another member of that great family. Unlike many of his ancestors, he was closer to Cassian than anyone else in his line. Neither his father nor his grandfather had been able to achieve this. But Renard knew that to earn his place at Cassian¡¯s side, he had to endure much.

    ¡°If I hadn¡¯t met him then...¡± Renard thought, looking at the sleeping emperor. ¡°Would I have become who I am? Perhaps I would have lived a quiet life, like my father, following the precepts of House Felinarius. But that meeting changed me. And now I can¡¯t imagine my life without him.¡±

    Renard watched Cassian sleep, his green eyes gleaming with thought. He knew his loyalty to the Emperor was more than just duty. It was personal. He wanted to be the one who would always stand by, the one who could protect Cassian when no one else could.

    Renard took a deep breath, remembering his past.

    ¡°Mikhail...¡± he mentally said his former name, which had long since lost its meaning for him. ¡°Cassian gave me a new name and a new destiny. He knew who I should become. Even if I was just a boy then.¡±

    Renard smiled slightly as he recalled the first time he had looked up and seen the Emperor. That moment had been etched into his memory. He had followed Cassian ever since, first as a loyal subject, then as the captain of the Fox Special Forces.

    ¡°You gave me more than just a name,¡± he thought, looking down at the sleeping Cassian. ¡°You gave me a purpose. And now I am not just the head of House Felinarius, I am your friend and your protector. And I will stay by your side as long as you need me, even if you don¡¯t say so.¡±

    Renard shook his head, covering Cassian with the cloth again to keep him from catching a cold.

    ¡°I wonder what you think of me, Cassian? Do you see me as a mere subordinate, or something more? I don¡¯t know. But even if I never know the answer, I will continue to serve you. After all, that is my destiny.¡±

    Renard looked at the garden around them. In the shade of the trees, where streams flowed and the wind swayed the branches, he felt at peace.Eterna, the central part of the palace, was home to Cassian and all his closest subjects. Here was his strength and his peace. And Renard was always there.

    ¡°I am a joker, a sly fox,¡± Renard thought with a slight smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°But when it comes to you, I am always serious. For you are more than just an emperor to me.¡±

    Renard¡¯s internal monologue was interrupted as a gentle breeze blew through the garden, causing the leaves to rustle softly. Cassian¡¯s head turned slightly in his sleep, and Renard, watching, felt once again the deep devotion he felt for the man.

    ¡°Maybe one day you¡¯ll explain to me why I¡¯m so drawn to you. But for now, it¡¯s enough for me to just be here, next to you.¡±

    Renard looked back at the sleeping Emperor, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.

    ¡°Still, no matter how great you are, you are still a human being. And even you need to rest.¡±

    Several hours later, Cassian slowly opened his eyes. A light breeze still stirred the leaves of the garden, and the light had softened, indicating that sunset was approaching. He blinked, listening to the sounds of the garden, and then stretched carefully, his arms at his sides. At that moment, Renard, who was standing nearby, noticed the emperor awakening. His usual sly smile appeared on his face.

    ¡°Your Majesty, are you awake yet?¡± he said, tilting his head slightly to the side. ¡°You¡¯ve only slept for a few hours. Perhaps you should sleep a little longer?¡±

    Cassian, listening to himself, slowly sat up in the hammock. His gaze was, as always, calm and impenetrable.

    ¡°No need,¡± he said quietly, but there was a hint of weariness in his voice. ¡°I think I¡¯ll go and walk around the palace a bit.¡±

    Renard bowed slightly and said:

    - As you command, your majesty.

    Cassian rose from his hammock and, shoulders slightly straightened, headed toward the palace corridors. Renard, as always, followed him, his steps light and silent, his gaze attentive.

    They walked in silence, but Renard¡¯s mind was still racing with thoughts. ¡°He¡¯s tired. Even now, after so many years of immortal life, I can see it in his eyes. But how does he manage to stay so calm? Why does nothing ever bother him?¡±

    Renard walked beside Cassian, watching his every move carefully. The Emperor moved through the corridors of Eterna, the central part of the palace, as if he were lost in thought. It was hard to read his emotions on his face, but Renard felt that something had changed in recent times. Cassian had become even more distant, even more thoughtful.

    ¡°I always follow him,¡± Renard thought, his eyes wandering over the majestic palace walls, decorated with paintings of the emperor¡¯s ancestors. ¡°And every time I think I¡¯ve figured him out, he reveals a new side. Like today - something in his gaze was different than usual.¡±

    They passed through several arches and Cassian finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm.

    - Renard, you¡¯re always there, aren¡¯t you?

    Renard smiled faintly, not hiding his usual slyness:

    - Your Majesty, someone has to make sure you don¡¯t forget to rest. And who, if not me?

    Cassian chuckled slightly, but his golden eyes remained cold and focused.

    ¡°You are a loyal subject, Renard. But you have always been more than just a fox. What keeps you here, by my side?¡±

    Renard froze suddenly for a moment. The question threw him off balance. He had never thought Cassian would actually want to know.

    ¡°What¡¯s holding me back?¡± he thought, looking at the back of the emperor¡¯s head, who had already continued moving forward. ¡°That¡¯s a good question, really. I could have left, become someone else, lead my own life. But I stayed.¡±

    Renard breathed in the chill air of the palace, thinking about Cassian¡¯s words. He always used humor and lightness in his communication, but now he felt that the moment had come to be sincere.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± he began slowly, ¡°to be honest, I¡¯ve never asked myself that question.¡± He chuckled, adding, ¡°Probably because you¡¯re too interesting to tease.¡±

    Cassian raised an eyebrow slightly, a small smile crossing his face.

    ¡°Tease me?¡± he asked again, his voice filled with mild surprise.

    Renard shrugged.

    - What else would you do next to an immortal emperor? You¡¯re always so serious. Someone needs to add a little lightness to your existence.

    But there was more to the joke. Renard knew it. He had always felt a connection to Cassian, but it was a connection that went deeper than mere duty.

    ¡°To be honest, Your Majesty,¡± he added more quietly, his gaze becoming more serious, ¡°I stayed by your side not because it is my duty. And not because tradition holds me. I stayed because I believe in you. I believe that you are more than just an immortal ruler. You are the one who makes our world a better place. And perhaps I want to be with someone who can do that.¡±

    Cassian stopped and turned to Renard, his golden eyes sparkling in the dim light of the hallway.

    ¡°Do you think I can make the world a better place?¡± the emperor asked quietly, a note of doubt in his voice.

    Renard nodded, his gaze firm.

    - Yes, your majesty. Even if you yourself sometimes doubt it.

    Cassian looked at Renard for a few seconds and then nodded slightly, his face becoming impassive again.

    ¡°Thank you, Renard,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right. Or maybe I¡¯m just tired.¡±

    Renard started to say something else, but Cassian had already turned and continued on his way. Renard, as always, followed. But now his mind was filled with new thoughts. Cassian was letting him know that his presence was important. And to Renard, that meant more than any title or position.

    ¡°I will stay with you, Cassian,¡± he thought, looking at the Emperor¡¯s silhouette ahead. ¡°As long as you need me. I will stay.¡±

    Cassian and Renard continued their quiet journey through the palace. The corridors were filled with silence, broken only by their footsteps. Suddenly, Cassian stopped in front of one of the portraits hanging on the wall. In this image, he was still very young - about fourteen years old, with short white hair and ordinary, golden eyes that seemed to have no knowledge of the wisdom and heaviness that he later acquired.

    But that wasn¡¯t what caught his attention. There was another man standing next to him in the portrait - a young man with black hair and bright blue eyes with a white tint. Dressed in a royal uniform, he looked majestic and confident.

    Cassian stared at the portrait for a long time, his eyes reflecting a sadness and pain he rarely showed anyone. Memories flooded back, making his heart clench with long-forgotten pain.

    ¡°Richard...¡± he said in his mind, plunging into memories. ¡°You were my brother... the only one I called family. Why did it have to end like this?¡±

    His thoughts returned to the distant past, when he was still a servant, not knowing titles and power. Together with Richard, they shared all the hardships and joys of life, becoming true brothers in spirit, if not in blood.

    ¡°You were always stronger than me,¡± Cassian continued to think, his gaze never leaving the image of young Richard. ¡°You always knew what you wanted, and you were the one who led us both forward. I never wanted to harm you, but fate decreed otherwise.¡±

    His heart clenched in pain as he remembered the last moments of Richard¡¯s life. That fateful day when he had been forced to kill his brother, even though it was against his will. Their paths had diverged when Richard had chosen the other side, a side Cassian could not support.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want this, Richard,¡± he whispered silently. ¡°I fought it until the very end. But you made me make a choice. And that choice destroyed a part of me.¡±

    Renard stood nearby, watching the Emperor with interest. He saw Cassian staring at the portrait with a sadness that Renard had rarely seen on his face. He had never seen Cassian smile. Even when Renard made his wittiest jokes, Cassian always remained cold and reserved.

    ¡°Why does he never smile?¡± Renard thought, looking at his face. ¡°I try to cheer him up, I try to make him laugh at least once. But every time I see only this sadness in his eyes. What is his soul hiding? What torments him so much?¡±

    Renard didn¡¯t know the whole truth about Richard, but he felt that behind this portrait there was something deeply personal to the Emperor.

    ¡°You look so strong and unwavering,¡± Renard continued to think, looking down at Cassian¡¯s hands, which were slowly clenching into fists. ¡°But there is so much pain inside you. Why do you never let yourself free from it? Why, when I try to tease you or joke with you, do you always remain so cold? What are you hiding from all of us?¡±

    Renard felt a sadness rise within him. He had always considered himself a part of Cassian¡¯s life, his faithful companion and friend. But even he, despite all the years he had spent at his side, did not know all of his emperor¡¯s secrets.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Cassian, as if hearing Renard¡¯s thoughts, took a step closer to the portrait, his gaze becoming even more focused, as if he was trying to penetrate deep into his memory.

    ¡°We called each other brothers,¡± he thought, his heart sinking even more. ¡°But Richard, you died because of me. And that will never give me peace. I killed you, even though it was against my will. And I¡¯ve never felt truly alive since.¡±

    Cassian exhaled slowly, looking away from the portrait and letting his hands fall to his sides. He knew these memories would never leave him. Richard had been his brother, his only family in those days. But the choice he had made had robbed him not only of his brother, but of a part of himself.

    Renard, sensing the Emperor¡¯s inner pain, took a step forward, but did not dare speak. Instead, he simply watched as Cassian looked away, hiding his sadness.

    But now Renard knew one thing: Cassian, no matter how powerful he seemed, was as vulnerable as any other man. And his grief, his inner wounds, would never heal.

    ¡°Maybe one day he¡¯ll open up,¡± Renard thought, his green eyes flickering with gentle sympathy. ¡°For now, I¡¯ll just stay by his side and do my best to support him, no matter how heavy his burden.¡±

    Silence filled the corridor once more, and both Cassian and Renard continued on their way in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

    Grandmother Marie paused for a moment, looking into the distance, as if her thoughts had taken her back in time. Silence reigned around her as the family listened attentively to her words. Marie, the children, and the parents were immersed in the story, each new detail revealing unknown secrets of the empire to them.

    ¡°Renard,¡± Grandmother Marie said finally, her voice quieter and more thoughtful, ¡°was the only beastman in the empire who truly respected and perhaps even loved the Emperor. But not for his power, not for his titles. Loved him for who he truly was.

    Mom looked at grandma in surprise, frowning slightly.

    ¡°Loved him?¡± she asked, trying to comprehend what she had heard. ¡°Are you saying he was close to the emperor?¡±

    Grandma nodded.

    - Yes, they were more than just a subject and a ruler. They had a real connection. Renard was the one who knew the Emperor better than anyone else. When Cassian died¡­ Renard disappeared. Vanished without a trace. No one ever knew what happened to him. But when he saw the dead Emperor, it was like a blow to the heart. It killed him inside.

    The children looked at each other, their eyes shining with surprise and interest. The girl sitting next to her father could not contain her curiosity:

    ¡°Grandma, how do you know such things?¡± she asked with a slight note of admiration.

    Grandma smiled, her gaze became a little softer, but there was still a mysterious sadness in it.

    ¡°Some stories are passed down from person to person,¡± she began, her voice quiet, as if she didn¡¯t want to reveal all the secrets. ¡°But there are some things that cannot be forgotten. Even after many years. I was a witness, though very young. I remember once being told of the closeness between the Emperor and Renard. Although it was not spoken of openly, their connection was noticeable to those who were nearby.

    ¡°Did you know Renard?¡± the boy suddenly asked, looking into his grandmother¡¯s face.

    Grandma thought for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, and then nodded.

    ¡ª I knew about him. But, like many, I did not understand how important he was to the emperor. After his disappearance, the palace was empty. It was not just the disappearance of a subject, it was the disappearance of a part of Cassian himself.

    Mom, who had been silent until then, now said with some bewilderment:

    - And you said that Renard was almost on par with the Emperor?

    Grandma nodded again, her gaze becoming more serious.

    - Yes, he had power and authority almost on par with Cassian. But he never used this power for himself. Everything he did was for the Emperor and his empire. But the most important thing is that they were not just allies. The Emperor once gave Renard a brooch in the form of a red fox, as a sign of their connection. And Renard, in turn, gave the Emperor a butterfly, but not a simple one, but a golden one, which symbolized their friendship and trust.

    ¡°A golden butterfly?¡± Mom asked, frowning. ¡°I don¡¯t remember hearing about that anywhere.¡±

    Grandma smiled sadly.

    - Much remains a mystery. Some things cannot be found in books and archives. But that does not mean they did not exist.

    The family fell silent again, considering what they had heard. Marie, sitting next to the children, looked thoughtfully at the portraits on the walls of the palace. Everything she learned about Renard and the Emperor seemed to fill the history of the empire with new depth and meaning. Her heart was filled with the feeling that this story was much more than just the story of a ruler and his subject.

    ¡°It¡¯s a sad story,¡± one of the children said quietly. ¡°They lost each other. And they never met again.¡±

    Grandma nodded, her eyes shining with uninvited tears.

    - Yes, it is a sad story. But it also reminds us that even strong and powerful people can have feelings that are deeper than any power. And these feelings can be more important than anything else.

    The mother, stroking her daughter¡¯s shoulder, quietly added:

    ¡ª Stories like this teach us that true friendship and loyalty are something that cannot be measured by power or wealth. And they can live on even after death.

    The children nodded thoughtfully, and everyone again sank into silence, pondering what they had heard.

    Grandmother Marie, looking thoughtfully at her hands, was lost in memories. Her gaze became clouded, and then suddenly a slight smile appeared on her face.

    ¡°You know,¡± she began, lowering her head slightly, as if not quite daring to speak, ¡°I remembered something. A legend.¡±

    The children immediately paid attention to her words, looked at each other, and then moved closer in anticipation.

    ¡°The legend?¡± the girl asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. ¡°Tell us!¡±

    Marie continued slowly, her voice taking on a mysterious tone, as if she were telling something secret, hidden from prying ears.

    - There is an old legend about a golden butterfly. They say that if a person sees it, it means that the emperor himself is watching him. And not only watching... It is a sign of blessing. The emperor¡¯s own blessing.

    ¡°Grandma,¡± one of the boys suddenly interrupted her, frowning, ¡°but so much time has passed! The butterfly has probably died a long time ago?¡±

    Marie chuckled slightly, shaking her head.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± she said quietly, her voice an echo of the distant past. ¡°Perhaps the butterfly is long gone. Or perhaps it still flies somewhere in our world. History, like many legends, lives in the hearts of those who remember.¡±

    She looked up, her eyes flashing with a soft light.

    ¡ª But the fact remains: the history of the empire is incredibly deep and rich. And all this thanks to one man. The one who raised generations, protected them, was their support. Emperor Cassian. He was not just a ruler, he was a symbol. For many, he was considered a god. His name was in the hearts of every imperialist, regardless of nationality.

    Marie paused, as if giving her words time to sink into the hearts of her listeners. The children listened attentively, and the parents looked at each other, feeling the power with which their grandmother spoke. They all knew that her words were more than just memories - this was real history, part of their heritage, their past.

    ¡°The Emperor¡­ like a god?¡± the girl asked in surprise, raising her eyebrows.

    ¡°Yes,¡± confirmed the grandmother, her gaze deepening, full of respect and awe. ¡°In the hearts of the Imperials, he was more than a ruler. He protected us, educated us, guided us. And to this day, even after all this time, his name remains sacred to those who remember.¡±

    - But how so? - the boy did not give up, his curiosity was stronger than anything. - He was a man, not a god.

    Marie smiled again, her face expressing a slight sadness.

    ¡ª Sometimes people become more than just people. They become symbols of hope, of faith, of protection. Cassian was that for his empire. He was the one who carried generations of Imperials on his shoulders. And even after his death, his name lives on as a symbol of something greater.

    Mom and Dad, listening to her, exchanged glances. Mom said quietly, as if addressing herself:

    - So the emperor was not just a ruler... He was the one who gave the empire a soul.

    Grandma Marie nodded, her eyes shining with memories.

    ¡ª That¡¯s right. Even now, after all that has happened, deep within every Imperial, there lives the memory of him. Cassian left a mark that can never be erased. And maybe one day... someone will see that golden butterfly again. A sign that his blessing still lives.

    Everyone fell silent, lost in their thoughts. Silence reigned for a moment, and it seemed that this story would remain with them forever, like a warm echo of the past, sounding in the hearts of everyone who heard it.

    The girl, looking out the window, suddenly whispered quietly:

    - Or maybe the butterfly is still flying somewhere nearby...

    Grandmother, hearing these words, smiled, her eyes shining with warmth again.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± she answered quietly, ¡°maybe...¡±

    The family continued to move slowly through the long corridors of the museum, which had once been a majestic imperial palace. Shadows of the past seemed to come to life at every step - paintings, statues, artifacts, every detail recalled the former glory of the empire. Suddenly, one of the portraits caught their attention, depicting a woman. Everyone - children, parents, even grandmother - stopped, enchanted by her image.

    The portrait showed a tall woman in luxurious armor that matched the exquisite elements of her dress. The sword in her hands was impressive: a long blade decorated with ancient symbols, glittering like a reflection of the light itself. Her snow-white hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and her eyes, shining with wisdom and strength, looked straight ahead, as if from a portrait upon them. The colors of her robe, shimmering in shades of blue and silver, seemed to move under the light, like an icy river in the moonlight.

    Below the portrait, in gold letters, was written:

    ¡°Leoncia Vallieri is the first female knight of the empire and the first female hero.¡±

    ¡°Wow...¡± the girl whispered quietly, her eyes lighting up with admiration. ¡°Is... it her?¡±

    Mom, slightly covering her mouth with her hand, could not take her eyes off the portrait.

    ¡°The first female knight... and a hero?¡± she said, surprised. ¡°Leoncia Vallieri... I¡¯ve never heard of her before.¡±

    ¡°And I couldn¡¯t hear,¡± Grandmother added quietly, smiling slightly. ¡°They talk about her in old legends. Her name is rarely mentioned in history books, but in the heart of everyone who ever served the empire, she was a symbol of courage and strength.¡±

    The children came closer to the portrait, examining every tiny element of her armor. The boy carefully touched the glass in front of the portrait, as if he wanted to feel all the power emanating from this woman.

    ¡°Grandma,¡± he asked curiously, ¡°what did she do? Why do they call her a hero?¡±

    Grandma sighed, remembering the stories she had heard in her youth.

    ¡°Leoncia Valieri was more than just a knight,¡± she began, her voice soft and deep, an echo of the past. ¡°She was the first woman to stand in the ranks of the Empire¡¯s defenders. In those days, it was believed that a woman¡¯s place was not on the battlefield, but Leoncia proved that her place was where she could protect her people. She became a symbol of loyalty, strength, and honor. With her sword and unwavering will, she led the Empire¡¯s troops into the most dangerous battles, always at the forefront, always ready to give her life for her people.

    Mom, standing next to grandma, quietly added:

    - Her eyes... They are so strong. You immediately understand that this is a person you can trust with your life.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± confirmed the grandmother, looking at the children with warmth. ¡°She inspired everyone who saw her. Even the male knights, who at first doubted her abilities, soon became her admirers. She was called the ¡®Ice Heart of War¡¯ because on the battlefield she was cold-blooded and knew no fear. But to her comrades, she was warm and kind.¡±

    The children listened attentively, and then the girl whispered:

    - Grandma, have you ever seen her?

    Grandma shook her head sadly.

    - No, my dear. She lived many centuries before us. But her stories are still alive. They are passed from mouth to mouth. She left a mark on the hearts of many generations.

    The boy looked at the portrait again, his thoughts clouded.

    ¡°Still... I wonder what it was like to be her?¡± he said, as if thinking out loud. ¡°To be the one who first broke boundaries. The one who showed that a woman could be a hero.

    Mom, hearing his words, smiled and stroked his head.

    ¡°I think she knew what she was doing,¡± she said. ¡°Leoncia was a person who saw a goal and followed it, no matter what the obstacles. And it is because of people like her that our history is so rich and amazing.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± confirmed the grandmother, her eyes shining with pride. ¡°The history of the empire has always been full of such people. And Leoncia Valieri is one of those who gave us the opportunity to be proud of our heritage.¡±

    The children stood for a while before the portrait, examining it in minute detail. Their thoughts were in the past, in that distant era when heroes like Leoncia defended their empire without fear of death.

    And although they knew they would never meet her in person, they felt her presence here, within these old walls of the museum, as a living piece of great history.

    Leoncia Valieri stood on the battlefield, surrounded by enemies. The thick fog of war surrounded her, and the air smelled of blood and steel. Her armor was mangled by enemy blows, but she stood unwavering. Every breath she took was full of determination, every muscle strained to the limit. The sword she held was heavy with the blood of her enemies, but her hands did not waver for a second.

    She scanned the enemy lines, taking in every movement, every potential threat. Leoncia moved with unrivaled grace, her armor glinting in the dim light of the sunset. She knew the enemy was exhausted, but she, too, was at the end of her tether. Her heart beat like the blows of her sword¡ªrhythmic, sure, yet exhausted from the long battle.

    With a loud battle cry, one of the enemies rushed at her, trying to break through her defense. But Leoncia knew what to do. She parried his blow with a powerful swing of her sword, blocking all his attack paths. Their blades connected with a furious ringing sound, but she was faster. A turn - and her sword sank into the enemy¡¯s side, and he, clutching at the wound, fell to the ground with a cry.

    ¡°Surrender,¡± she said, breathing heavily, her voice full of weariness but not a drop of fear. ¡°Your resistance is pointless.¡±

    The remnants of the enemy troops froze, looking at each other. Their gaze fell first on Leoncia, then on the dead bodies surrounding her. They understood that before them stood not just a woman - she was the embodiment of indomitable will and unrivaled strength.

    But not everyone was ready to give in. One of the enemies, a huge warrior with a two-handed axe, rushed at her, screaming in rage. His heavy footsteps thundered across the field, but Leoncia was ready. She raised her sword, easily dodging the first blow, and immediately counterattacked. Her blade slid across his armor, leaving a deep cut. The warrior stopped, breathing heavily, and then collapsed to the ground as if mown down.

    His blood was dripping down her armor, but Leoncia paid no attention to it. Her breathing was even, and her mind remained cold as ice.

    ¡°I can¡¯t afford to make a mistake,¡± she thought.

    ¡°They look to me. My defeat will be their defeat. I must win for the sake of those who fight beside me.¡±

    Her eyes swept across the battlefield, her warriors, exhausted but still holding on, watching her actions with silent admiration. She was their symbol of steadfastness, their only chance at victory.

    Another enemy tried to come from behind, but Leoncia, sensing his movement, spun around and plunged her blade into his chest. He froze for a moment, his eyes widening in pain and surprise, and then he fell, leaving Leoncia standing alone again among the dead bodies.

    It seemed as if the earth itself stood still. The enemy, seeing that their efforts were useless, began to retreat. The ranks of enemy soldiers crumbled like sand, and soon the battlefield was empty. Victory was hers.

    Leoncia lowered her sword, her body finally allowing itself to relax. Her armor was heavy, coated in a layer of blood, but victory shone in her eyes. She took a deep breath, feeling tired, but also an inner pride that the battle had been won.

    Her troops surrounded her, approaching cautiously. One of her closest companions, a young knight named Kael, stopped next to her, his gaze full of admiration.

    ¡°Mrs. Vallieri... You did it again,¡± he said quietly, his voice shaking with fatigue and respect.

    Leoncia looked at him and nodded slightly, her face calm even though emotions were raging inside her.

    ¡°We have won,¡± she replied, her voice level but strong. ¡°But the war is not over. We must be ready for the next step.¡±

    Kael nodded, though his eyes still showed amazement at her unrivaled skill.

    ¡°How do you stay so calm?¡± he finally asked, barely containing his emotions. ¡°After everything you¡¯ve seen... after all these battles?¡±

    Leoncia thought for a moment, her gaze again directed into the distance, to the field strewn with the bodies of enemies and fallen comrades.

    ¡°Because,¡± she began, ¡°I know what I¡¯m fighting for. I protect those who believe in me. And as long as I¡¯m standing on my feet, as long as I can raise my sword, I will fight. But I will never forget those who remained on this field. Their sacrifice is what drives me forward.¡±

    She raised her head, her eyes shining with determination again.

    - And as long as I have power in my hands, I will protect our people. And no one can change that.

    There was unwavering faith in her words, and her warriors, hearing this, felt strength again within themselves. They knew that as long as Leoncia Valieri was with them, they were invincible.

    The evening in the camp was calm, but the air was still filled with fatigue from the hard battle. The tents, pitched in a row along the hill, were slightly tattered by the wind, and the warriors sat by the fires, enjoying a moment of respite. The flames crackled softly, illuminating exhausted faces soaked in sweat and blood. The thick smell of smoke and grass mingled with the aroma of cooking food.

    Leoncia, dressed in a simple shirt and loose trousers, sat on a wooden bench not far from her tent. Her armor had been removed and lay neatly nearby, shining from a hasty cleaning, but it still bore the marks of battle - cracks and scratches that had stood silent witness to her victories. Her sword lay on the ground nearby, wrapped in cloth.

    She looked at the horizon, where the setting sun was painting the sky crimson. There was weariness in her eyes, but also a strong determination. She never showed her doubts or weaknesses in front of others - her warriors must always see her as a symbol of confidence and strength. But in moments like these, in the silence of the camp, with only muffled voices around her, she allowed herself to relax for a moment and think.

    Kael, her young comrade, approached, hesitant to disturb her thoughts, but Leoncia sensed his presence and gestured for him to sit next to her.

    ¡°We¡¯ve had a good day,¡± he said, sitting down next to her and placing his helmet next to her. ¡°We¡¯ve won, the enemy has been routed. But I still can¡¯t understand where you get so much strength and patience. You hardly ever rest.¡±

    Leoncia smiled slightly, but there was more sadness in her smile than joy.

    ¡°Strength doesn¡¯t just come from physical training,¡± she said quietly, looking up at the crimson sky. ¡°It comes from within. From what you fight for. I wasn¡¯t always like this, Kael. I had to lose a lot when I was younger to understand who I was and why I was on this battlefield.

    Her voice was soft, but there was a weight of experience in it. She looked at the young knight, seeing in him an echo of her youth.

    ¡°I once lived a life far removed from all of this,¡± she continued. ¡°I was born into a noble family. I had everything ¨C wealth, respect, even power. But one day, when our kingdom was attacked, I realized that none of these things could protect the people I loved. That day, I lost my parents. And I realized that I had nothing left to lose. Since then, I have chosen my path ¨C to fight for those who cannot protect themselves.

    Kael listened to her with interest, his eyes widened in surprise. He knew Leoncia was a person with a strong character, but he never thought that her past was so tragic.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know,¡± he said quietly, his voice full of respect. ¡°And what made you go to the front?¡±

    Leoncia looked at him and sighed slightly.

    - You know, Kael, not everyone chooses this path consciously. Many come here because they cannot find themselves in a peaceful life. But I came because I had no other choice. I could not protect my family when they needed it. But now I can protect others. I can be the sword they did not have time to raise.

    Kael was silent, considering her words. He had always thought of her as unwavering, but now he realized that her strength came from the pain she had endured. He saw before him not just a knight, but a person who had sacrificed her life for others.

    ¡°But...¡± he began, not knowing how to find the words. ¡°Isn¡¯t it hard? To be on the battlefield every day? To fight and see people die?¡±

    Leoncia nodded, her gaze returning to the fire.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard,¡± she admitted. ¡°Very hard. But if I give in, if I allow myself to break, then who will be on the front lines? Who will protect these people? I have to be strong. It¡¯s my duty.

    She paused, then, looking straight into Kael¡¯s eyes, added:

    - You too will become as strong someday, Kael. Strength comes with experience. And if you learn to fight not only for yourself, but also for others, you will be able to cope with any pain.

    The young knight nodded, his face full of determination, although his eyes still showed admiration.

    ¡°I will try, Mrs. Vallieri,¡± he said respectfully. ¡°I will try to become like you.¡±

    Leoncia smiled slightly, but this time her smile was warmer.

    ¡°You¡¯re already on the right path, Kael,¡± she replied quietly. ¡°The main thing is to never forget what you¡¯re fighting for. And then, even in the darkest moments, you¡¯ll find the strength to move on.¡±

    They sat together, enjoying the quiet moment after the battle. The firelight flickered in their eyes, and the silence of the camp seemed to envelop them in warmth. But Leoncia knew that there were many more battles ahead, many losses. And she was ready for anything, because her path was clear - to protect, to fight, and never retreat.

    Her heart beat with unquenchable strength, and she knew that her place was on the front lines.

    The fire continued to crackle, its flickering light reflecting on Leoncia and Kael¡¯s faces. Silence fell over them for a moment, giving both a chance to reflect on the talk of battle and fate. But then Kael, turning his head slightly toward Leoncia, asked with a slight hesitation:

    ¡°What do you think of our king, Cassian Aurelius?¡± His voice was quiet, but there was genuine interest in it. ¡°He has ruled for a hundred years. Many say that he is immortal.¡±

    Leoncia tensed slightly at the question, her fingers tightening a little on the hem of her shirt as she raised her head and looked into the fire¡¯s flames, as if she could see her thoughts reflected in the fire.

    ¡°King Cassian...¡± she drawled thoughtfully, her gaze becoming more distant. ¡°He¡¯s a complex character. Strong, intelligent, but... there¡¯s something about him that¡¯s alarming.¡±

    Kael narrowed his eyes, as if he didn¡¯t fully understand her words.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked, leaning forward slightly to hear her better.

    Leoncia paused for a moment, considering her words. She had never been one to speak openly about rulers, but now, in this small camp, among her own people, she could afford to be honest.

    ¡°Cassian has ruled for a hundred years,¡± she began, her voice lowering, almost to a whisper. ¡°For ordinary men, that¡¯s a lifetime. But for him¡­ it seems like this is just the beginning. He rules with confidence, as if he were destined to rule forever. Many admire his wisdom and fortitude, but I see something else in his eyes. Something that haunts me.¡±

    Kael frowned slightly, his gaze full of interest and slight concern.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Loneliness,¡± Leoncia said quietly. ¡°I think he¡¯s seen too much in his long life. He¡¯s lost too many people he knew and loved. And it¡¯s left a mark on him. Cassian seems so majestic, so indestructible, but I think he¡¯s very lonely inside. I see it in his eyes when he looks at his subjects. It¡¯s the look of a man who feels no connection to the world around him.¡±

    She paused, looking up at the darkening sky, where the first stars were beginning to break through the thick clouds.

    ¡°Greatness and power always come at a price, Kael. And I think King Cassian pays a high price for his immortality - loneliness, loss, and perhaps fear of a future in which he will be alone.

    Kael paused, taking her words in. He had heard many stories about Cassian Aurelius¡ªhow he had led great battles, how his wisdom had saved the kingdom in difficult times. But he had never considered the man behind the myth of the immortal king.

    ¡°I have heard from the older knights that King Cassian never ages,¡± Kael continued, his voice growing more serious. ¡°And that he is one of the few who have seen the war of the last century. But if he is so wise and powerful, why has he not yet created an empire? After all, he has the power.

    Leoncia smiled slightly, but it was a bitter smile.

    ¡°Wisdom is not always about power,¡± she said, her eyes returning to the fire. ¡°Cassian could make his kingdom a great empire if he wanted. But he does not seek it. He rules as a man who understands that power is not the most important thing. Perhaps he does not want to repeat the mistakes of other great rulers who, driven by ambition, lost touch with the people.

    She sighed, once again feeling the weight she carried on her shoulders.

    ¡ª Perhaps Cassian is simply waiting. He is patient as no one else. He knows that an empire is not only about conquests, but also about internal changes. Perhaps, when the time comes, he will create an empire that will last for centuries. But for now, he watches, analyzes, and perhaps seeks those who will help him on this path.

    Kael nodded thoughtfully, but his thoughts still revolved around the image of Cassian.

    ¡°But you¡¯re right...¡± he said, lowering his voice slightly. ¡°Sometimes, when I see him, it seems to me too that there¡¯s something... lonely in his eyes. As if he¡¯d long ago lost what was important to him.¡±

    Leoncia looked closely at the young knight, seeing herself in his youth - the same look, the same question on his lips: ¡°What next?¡±

    ¡°Kael,¡± she said, her voice soft but insistent. ¡°King Cassian is a man who lives on the edge between the past and the future. And we are all here with him to help him find that path. But remember this: even great rulers need those who will support them. Even those like Cassian cannot stand alone in eternity.¡±

    Kael thought again, but now his gaze was more serious and full of understanding.

    ¡°I understand, Mistress Vallieri,¡± he replied, nodding. ¡°We are all part of this story. And perhaps someday we can help the king in his quest.¡±

    Leoncia smiled slightly, and this time her smile was genuine.

    - You are already helping, Kael. We all are helping. And while we fight for our kingdom, for our people, we help King Cassian, too. Because his strength is our strength.

    Night continued to fall on the camp, but the conversation between them did not subside for a long time.

    The last day of the war was dark and silent, broken only by the distant sounds of battle. Leoncia Valieri stood on the top of a hill, surrounded by the bodies of her fallen enemies. Her armor, once shining in the sun, was now scarred by blows and covered in blood, both her own and that of her enemies. Her sword, heavy from the battle, was barely held in her weakened hands, but she continued to stand, as if not noticing the pain and fatigue.

    Below her stood those who were still alive, the last 200 enemy warriors who knew that defeat was inevitable, but still refused to retreat. They looked at her with hatred, or perhaps with respect. After all, they saw how a lone woman, alone on the top of a hill, held back their army and destroyed their hopes for victory.

    Her breathing became heavy, every movement was painful, but she knew she had to hold on a little longer. Her thoughts were confused, but one thing remained clear: the kingdom must not fall. She could already feel the end approaching, but her heart still beat for those she protected.

    She raised her sword, bracing herself one last time for the final battle. Every blow, every swing of the sword was heavy, but her movements were precise, almost mechanical. She fought as always, with cold determination, like a knight whose will was unbreakable. One by one, the enemy fell, their bodies littering the ground, but Vallieri remained standing, keeping them at bay from the key heights.

    ¡°Surrender!¡± one of the enemies shouted, seeing that Leoncia¡¯s strength was waning. ¡°You have no chance, knight!¡±

    But she only grinned, her eyes shining through the pain.

    ¡°Give up?¡± she whispered through heavy breathing. ¡°Not today.¡±

    She knew this was her last fight, but she was not afraid of death. There was no room in her heart for fear, only for honor. She looked into the distance, beyond the horizon, hoping to see her comrades raise the flag of the kingdom over the enemy capital.

    One of the enemies, gathering all his strength, rushed at her, but Leoncia, despite her weakness, parried his blow and dealt the final fatal blow. He fell at her feet, his blood mixed with the blood of those who had fallen before him.

    Suddenly, the sound of a horn pierced the air¡ªthe horn of victory. Leoncia froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. She raised her head, and in the distance, on the horizon, she saw the flag of the kingdom rising above the enemy capital. Her comrades had won.

    Her breathing became more and more ragged, blood flowed down her sides, and her legs began to give way. But she was still smiling. It was a smile full of pride and relief. She knew that her sacrifice had not been in vain.

    Kael, who had been fighting next to her all this time, finally reached her. He ran up, his eyes full of horror and despair.

    ¡°Leoncia!¡± he shouted, catching her so she wouldn¡¯t fall to the ground. ¡°We won! The kingdom¡¯s flag is over the capital, do you see that? We won!¡±

    Leoncia looked at him, her gaze clouded, but the smile still on her face.

    ¡°I see...¡± she whispered, her voice weak, almost inaudible. ¡°We did it, Kael...¡±

    Her hand slipped from the sword, which fell from her weakened fingers, and she breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling with each painful breath.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to fight anymore,¡± she added, her gaze calm. ¡°You¡¯re a commander now, Kael. Lead our people further... Protect those we loved...¡±

    Kael looked at her in horror, realizing that she was leaving. Her life was fading away in his arms. He squeezed her shoulder, trying to hold her, as if his will could stop her death.

    ¡°No!¡± he cried, his voice shaking. ¡°You can¡¯t leave us! You have to live! You have to be with us!¡±

    But Leoncia knew her time was up. She smiled again, a little wider this time, with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

    ¡°My time is past, Kael,¡± she whispered, her voice barely reaching his ears. ¡°But I am happy... I leave knowing that we have won. The kingdom... is saved.¡±

    With these words, her eyes closed, her breathing became ragged, and with her last breath, her body went limp in Kael¡¯s arms. Her smile remained on her face, she passed on to the other world, knowing that her mission was accomplished.

    Kael, feeling her body go rigid, clenched his teeth, trying to hold back his tears. He gently laid her down on the ground, covering her eyes with his hand.

    ¡°Goodbye, Leoncia...¡± he whispered, his voice full of pain and respect. ¡°You were our hero... and you will always remain in our hearts.¡±

    Behind them, a roar of joy was heard as his comrades celebrated their victory. But Kael stood beside the body of his commander, knowing that the true victory had been achieved through the sacrifice of Leoncia Valieri. Her name would live on for centuries as a symbol of strength, honor, and eternal devotion to the kingdom.

    The family was already in the car, heading home. The scenery slowly flowed past the car windows, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in soft pink and orange hues. There was a lively atmosphere in the car, the children excitedly told about what they had learned that day.

    ¡°Mom, can you imagine?¡± the girl said excitedly, turning around in her seat and waving her arms. ¡°Leoncia Vallieri fought alone against two hundred enemies and died with a smile on her face! She¡¯s a real heroine!¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes!¡± the boy picked up, his eyes shining. ¡°She gave her life to save the kingdom. And her last words were so...¡± He paused, trying to find the right words, and then added, more quietly, with a hint of respect: ¡°Honest.¡±

    Mom sat in the front next to Dad, listening to their stories and smiling. She, too, was amazed by the story she heard in the museum. Especially about how Cassian, the king who ruled for a hundred years, eventually created an empire.

    ¡°Yes, indeed,¡± Mom said, looking at her husband, ¡°whatever you say, the empire was magnificent. But I still can¡¯t believe that it fell right after his death.¡±

    Dad nodded slightly, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly and his eyes focused on the road.

    ¡°It only confirms,¡± ??he replied thoughtfully, ¡°how strong the bond between the empire and its emperor was. Cassian was not just its ruler, he was its soul. When he died, the empire lost what held it together.

    Mom nodded thoughtfully, remembering the tour guide¡¯s words.

    ¡°And this tour guide,¡± she added, raising an eyebrow slightly, ¡°said that after Cassian¡¯s death, there was no one left who could hold on to power. No one was prepared for such a fall.¡±

    ¡°But he ruled for so long!¡± the boy objected, his voice filled with surprise. ¡°How could he not have trained someone to replace him?¡±

    Mom sighed and shrugged.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± she answered softly, ¡°even a ruler like Cassian could not have foreseen his death. Perhaps he did not think it would happen so suddenly.

    The children were silent for a moment, taking her words in. Even at their young age, they were beginning to understand that not every story has a happy ending, and that even the greatest rulers can make mistakes or fail to prepare for their passing.

    The grandmother, sitting in the back seat next to the children, had been silent all this time, but now, looking out the window, she quietly said:

    - Cassian was a great man. He built an empire from nothing, but like all great men, he was mortal. That¡¯s the paradox of immortal rulers. People tend to believe that they will be with us forever, and when they leave, everything falls apart.

    ¡°What about the golden butterfly?¡± the girl suddenly asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity again. ¡°Grandmother, you said it was a sign of the emperor¡¯s blessing. Do you think it¡¯s still alive?¡±

    Grandma smiled for a moment, her gaze remaining on the sky outside the window, which was slowly darkening.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± she replied, her voice warm and slightly sad. ¡°Perhaps she still flies somewhere. And perhaps one day someone will see her again. Who knows? The history of the empire may be over, but its spirit, its memory, they live on in us. And as long as people remember Cassian and his emperors, the legends will live on.¡±

    The boy, lost in thought, quietly added:

    ¡ª If I saw a butterfly, I would ask it for one wish... for the empire to never fall. And for Cassian to live.

    Mom stroked his head tenderly.

    ¡°Maybe one day your dreams will come true,¡± she said with a soft smile. ¡°But for now, it¡¯s important to remember that everything that was teaches us to appreciate what is.¡±

    The car drove slowly along the winding roads, and everyone in the car was lost in their own thoughts. The children were delighted by the history they had learned, and the parents and grandmother thought about how the memory of the past lives on in everyone¡¯s heart.

    As the car left the palace district and they began to move away from the museum, something flashed high in the sky, reflecting the last rays of the sunset. A small golden butterfly, shimmering against the setting sun, flew over the palace and slowly disappeared over the horizon. Its wings shimmered like an echo of times long gone, and the butterfly itself, like a symbol of the empire¡¯s bygone greatness, disappeared into the distance, into the unknown.

    No one noticed her, but Grandma may have felt a slight gust of wind, as if something invisible had flown past. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

    ¡°The story may be over, but its spirit lives on,¡± she thought with a slight smile.

    End