《The Fallen Realms》 A Brothers Tale "Once upon a time, long ago, humans were just tiny creatures that had to hide from the beasts." "They feared the winter in the claws of the wolves, they feared the storms brought by the wings of the griffins, and above all¡­ they feared the shadow of the King, the Dragon." "But then, one day, the Prince of the Blue Bloods arose. He was the bravest man among all humans..." "Amy¡ª!" The sweet voice of a little girl interrupted, her face peeking out from under the blanket, her eyes sparkling as if she had just discovered treasure. "The Blue Prince!" Her brother laughed. "Yes, the Blue Prince." The little girl smiled widely, hugging her pillow tight. "Then, how did he defeat the big dragon?" "Ahem," her brother cleared his throat. The little girl scrunched her nose, resting her chin in her hands, waiting intently. "The Blue Prince climbed to the top of a high tower, the howling wind echoed through the sky. He drew his sword of blue flame and thrust it into the heart of the Dragon King¡ª" "Then the prince married the princess!" the little girl guessed, her eyes sparkling. Her brother paused for a moment before smiling faintly. "Yes... and the prince and princess lived happily ever after." The little girl yawned widely, snuggling under the blanket. "Amy..." "Hmm?" "Will you marry a princess too?" Her brother blinked for a moment before laughing. "What is this?" "Well..." The little girl shyly looked away, playing with the edge of her blanket. "If you¡¯re my blue prince, you have to marry a princess, right?" Her brother gently patted her head. "Let me think about it." The little girl immediately pouted. "No! I¡¯ll only allow you to marry a princess who is very kind!" Her brother laughed before whispering softly, "Alright, alright." The flames in the hearth flickered gently, casting her brother''s shadow long on the wall, while the little girl slowly closed her eyes, her breathing steady. ¡ª The leaves rustled and scratched against each other under the final rays of the day, their faint golden shadows melting into the horizon. The little girl swallowed, the cold wind brushing against her skin as she stepped forward... Something was waiting in the dark shadows. A woman''s body lay motionless under a tree, her cloak soiled with blood and dirt, her breathing faint. This was definitely not the princess from the fairy tale. The little girl bit her lip, her heart pounding. She should run, but her legs wouldn''t move. She looked at the woman again, then took a deep breath... "Amiri..." she whispered softly. "I have to tell you¡­" The young man carefully lifted the young woman into his arms. Fresh blood flowed from her wounds, staining his arms, and dripping onto the floor like sand counting down to death. He could feel the severity of her injuries as she grew weaker with each passing moment. With every step he took, it felt like time was running out¡ªshe might not make it home if he didn''t hurry. Right now... his heart felt as though it would burst, every step feeling like he was racing against an unseen clock that might stop at any moment. "Iris, quickly tell mother!" The young man said, his voice trembling with urgency. He saw the young girl glance back and then run ahead of him with swift speed. The young woman, struggling to breathe, locked eyes with him. The pain almost rendered her speechless, her breaths shallow and faint, as her body trembled with the overwhelming loss of blood. The entire world around her blurred. Every movement felt strange, her body seemed like a burden too heavy to bear. "You''ll be fine... stay with me," the young man said softly, as he hurried through the center of the small village. His heart raced with every weighty step he took. If they were any slower, she might not survive... He quickened his pace, yet carefully cradled her to avoid making her wounds worse. Upon reaching the house, the young man rushed inside. His bloodstained hands brushed against the doorframe as he carefully laid her down on the wooden bed in the corner of the room. The soft glow from the fireplace filled the room with warmth, but the feeling in his heart was the complete opposite. "Mother, she...?" The young man asked shakily, as he tried to lay her down gently on the wooden bed. His mother moved quickly. As he laid the woman down, she set aside her vial of medicine and herbs, grabbing a clean cloth to wrap around the large wound, tying it tightly to stop the bleeding. "Iris! Quickly, bring clean cloth!" she commanded firmly. The young girl ran to the corner of the room to fetch a clean blanket that had been prepared. The young man stood beside them, his face full of concern, watching as his mother carefully pressed the cloth to the woman''s wound, slowly wrapping it around to stem the blood loss. ¡°Don¡¯t worry...¡± His mother spoke in a firm tone as she leaned down to examine the young woman¡¯s wounds closely. Iris returned with clean cloth and water in hand. She carefully cleaned the woman¡¯s wounds, moving quietly and gently. There were no words exchanged, only the sound of cloth moving and water running over the woman''s wounds. She followed her mother¡¯s instructions with utmost care and determination. ¡°Well done, Iris... The bleeding has started to slow down,¡± her mother said in a softer voice as she reached for a vial of herbal medicine to continue the treatment. The young man sat beside the unconscious woman, his heart weighed down by confusion. "Such severe wounds... What kind of creature could have done this to her? How did she survive?" he thought, though he kept the questions to himself. His body seemed frozen, caught in the dilemma of unanswered questions. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small window of the cozy wooden house, still filled with the lingering warmth of the fireplace. The freshness of the morning was replaced by the sweet scent of flowers planted around the house. Birds greeted the dawn, followed by the distant crowing of a rooster calling to the rising sun. The wooden door creaked open, and the young man stepped out, carrying a longbow made from dark wood. It was large enough to fell a fully-grown beast. He adjusted the quiver to rest comfortably on his shoulder before gently closing the door behind him. "Father," he greeted the middle-aged man, who was alternating between standing and sitting, using a hammer and file to repair a small cart. "Going hunting, son?" his father replied with a relaxed expression, despite the evident physical effort involved in repairing the cart. "Well..." The young man was about to speak but was cut off. "Your mother told me about the young woman¡¯s wounds. I think it¡¯s time to consult Uncle Will," his father said thoughtfully. "Uncle Will?" the young man asked in response. "Yes, he¡¯s often in and out of the village. He might know something," his father nodded toward the small cart beside him and nudged it toward the young man. "Before you leave the village, don''t forget to stop by Uncle Taylor''s. I heard he has something for you," his father said with a cheerful smile. "Alright," the young man replied as he took the cart from his father. "Be careful, Amiri," his father added, his voice tinged with concern. The young man walked through the center of the village, where the cobbled streets gleamed in the morning light. Long wooden benches, though old, were still in good use, surrounded by trees that lined the streets. The songs of birds filled the air, and the chatter of villagers exchanging goods or directing passing travelers echoed around him. This was Ariawood, a small and peaceful village, far from the capital but almost at the heart of the kingdom. With well-maintained roads, it served as a perfect resting stop for both travelers and merchants. The young man walked for a short while before turning right into a familiar alley. After passing the first house, he felt the warmth from the iron furnace that had just been lit. A strong, dark-haired man with a wealth of experience was standing at a workbench, lifting papers up and down. ¡°Uncle Taylor!¡± the young man called out with a familiar expression. "Amiri! How''s it going? Long time no see! I¡¯ve been quite busy lately," Uncle Taylor replied with a smile and a laugh. "Must be a lot of customers, huh? You¡¯re really good at this," the young man said with a smile of admiration. "Yeah, there¡¯s been a lot of travelers lately. Oh... here," Uncle Taylor set the papers down and pulled something from the drawer beneath the table. "Happy birthday, Amiri! Sorry it¡¯s a bit late, but I¡¯ve really been swamped," Uncle Taylor said with a grin, handing over an object about the size of a ruler. It was a silver knife, its handle adorned with intricate black patterns. The sheath was made of animal hide with a tightly woven grid pattern. Amiri pulled the knife from its sheath; the blade was long and straight, more suited for stabbing but still sharp enough for slicing. The knife appeared simple, yet it carried an air of elegance and precision.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. "Do you like it?" Uncle Taylor asked, clearly proud. "I¡¯m not kidding, this is the most beautiful thing I¡¯ve ever seen. But the sharpness of the blade..." Amiri said, his gaze fixed on the edge with curiosity. "I got it from a traveler. He said this metal can kill a dragon if you strike the right spot," Uncle Taylor said seriously. "Haha!" The young man burst into laughter. "Dragons? Those are only in fairy tales!" He laughed even harder. Uncle Taylor looked at him with a neutral expression for a moment before joining in with a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying the moment. Amiri waved goodbye before walking out of the alley and turning right. The fragrant smell of freshly baked bread and butter drifted from a house that appeared about twice as large as the others. Smoke billowed from the chimney, and the clean, shiny windows were hurriedly opened. A voice called out from a woman with red-orange hair, of a somewhat older age. "Amiri, where are you off to? Have you had breakfast yet?" The young man turned to reply with a smile, "I''m going hunting, Aunt Lily." "Come on, have something to eat first," the middle-aged woman said, waving her hand to invite him inside. The young man placed the cart in front of the inn before opening the door. A bell rang as the door opened. Although the shop appeared old, it was clean and cozy. Inside, a fireplace provided warmth, and wooden tables were arranged neatly. Customers were eating and chatting comfortably, with some even stepping outside. The young man walked to his usual spot at the counter, which faced the kitchen. From there, he had a clear view of both the kitchen and the drinks bar. In the kitchen, fresh ingredients, spices, and condiments were neatly arranged. A young woman with orange-red hair tied up was grilling steak at the stove. She deftly placed the steak into the oven and then poured red wine into the pan. The sizzling sound of the meat and the warm steam from the pan brushed against the young man''s face. "Are you busy lately, Aunt?" he asked casually. "A little bit, yeah. At the beginning of spring, we get quite a few customers," Aunt Lily replied, continuing to cook. "Steak and eggs, with some warm milk ¡ª your favorite, as usual. I¡¯ll treat you like always," Aunt Lily said cheerfully. "Again?" the young man smiled and scratched his head. "Well... last time, you brought me a whole wild boar leg. I made ham out of it, and I still haven¡¯t served it all to the guests," Aunt Lily said, resting her chin on the counter with a lighthearted tone before turning back to the stove. "My dad always said that whenever I bring home game, I should share some with you because you once helped him out," the young man said while cutting his steak. Aunt Lily didn¡¯t respond but continued cooking quietly. The young man ate happily, sipping his warm milk, then pulled four silver coins from his pocket and placed them under his plate. "This is really delicious, Aunt. I have to rush off now, or I¡¯ll be late," he said before quickly heading out the door. "Sure, if you¡¯re ever hungry, you know where to find me..." Aunt Lily¡¯s warm voice echoed from the door just before it was shut quickly. The young man pushed his cart out of the village, where trees of various colors were budding with new leaves. A gentle breeze brushed against his face. "Amiri! Are you going hunting?" A sharp voice called after him. Amiri turned and smiled at the friend who had caught up with him¡ªa well-built young man with dark brown hair, roughly the same height as Amiri, but noticeably more muscular. "Come train with me first today, won''t you?" Erik asked, trying to persuade him. "I can''t. We''re running low on food at home," Amiri replied briefly, though his expression was sympathetic. "Then I''ll come with you! Wait, let me grab my bow real quick!" Erik dashed into his house near the village entrance, slamming the door behind him. The sound of hurried rummaging followed. The two young men set off, leaving behind the village lined with vibrant wildflowers, heading toward the edge of the forest. The Stagwood Forest, famed as one of the most bountiful woodlands in the kingdom, stood before them. A light-gray cobblestone path guided them onward, leading into the thickening canopy of trees. "You¡¯re nineteen this year, Amiri. Don''t you have any dreams?" Erik asked in a serious tone. "Not really. I''m happy living here as I am." Amiri answered cheerfully. "I want to go to the capital¡ªbecome a mercenary, earn fame and fortune, and marry a beautiful woman," Erik said with a playful grin. "That sounds... interesting, I suppose," Amiri replied absentmindedly. "Listen, Amiri, if you went to the capital, you''d have women lining up to marry you, no doubt about it!" Erik teased, his face full of mischief. "What are you talking about?" Amiri laughed, turning to him. "Your hair, of course! That smoky-gray color is damn cool!" Erik pointed at Amiri¡¯s hair, chuckling. "Cool? When we were kids, you used to tease me every day, calling me ¡®Whitehead¡¯ and ¡®Grandpa Hair¡¯!" Amiri said, running a finger through his strands. "Well, I couldn¡¯t help it! Your dad has brown hair, your mom has brown hair, and your little sister has brown hair too." Erik grinned. Amiri fell silent, not replying. He simply continued walking, the towering trees and blooming wildflowers filling the path around them. "Oh, by the way, when are you going to teach me swordplay again?" Erik asked, his tone turning serious. "Why don¡¯t you just ask your father? Uncle Wil is the best swordsman in the village," Amiri said with a curious glance. "True... but my dad¡¯s hardly ever home. And besides, don¡¯t you remember? When we were kids, I never lost to you¡ªnot even once. You were never even close to beating me. Then, one day, you secretly started training with Uncle Elwine¡ªyour father. When you came back, I couldn''t win against you anymore. Not even once." Erik explained. "Ah, right¡­" Amiri murmured. "And another thing¡ªyesterday, I saw you carrying an injured person into your house," Erik added, his tone growing slightly more serious. "Yeah... she wasn''t in great shape," Amiri admitted, concern creeping into his voice. "She¡¯ll be fine for sure," Erik said confidently. "And why are you so sure?" Amiri asked, puzzled. "Because Aunt Thalia, your mother, was the one who delivered me into this world. If anyone can save her, it¡¯s her," Erik said warmly. Amiri smiled, feeling some of his worry ease. He knew Erik well¡ªthough playful, he was always sincere. Ever since childhood, Erik had been a friend he could always rely on. "Let''s leave the cart here..." Amiri said before the two of them set off on foot into the dense thicket. The sunlight gradually faded as they ventured deeper, the soft rustling of leaves and the distant murmur of a slow-moving stream filling the silence around them. ¡ª The boy crouched low, carefully aiming his bow at a young stag just a few paces away. The stillness of the forest made it feel as though time itself had frozen. He steadied his grip on the bow, his breath barely audible as he prepared to release the arrow. Just as he was about to let it fly, a squirrel suddenly leapt across a branch, startling the stag. It bolted away in an instant. The boy was about to loose his arrow anyway, but a deep voice gently interrupted him. "Don''t do that." His father stepped up beside him, his voice calm and steady. Lowering his bow, the boy let out a quiet sigh, disappointment flickering in his eyes. He glanced up to meet his father''s gaze, expecting admonishment, but instead found only warmth. "I''m not telling you to stop hunting," his father said gently. "I just want you to understand¡ªhunting isn¡¯t just about taking a life." The boy frowned slightly, his eyes filled with unspoken questions. His father gave a small smile, crouching down beside him. "We don¡¯t just take a life¡ªwe make sure it doesn¡¯t suffer needlessly," he continued. "A true hunter strikes with precision, ensuring the animal does not endure pain or linger in misery. We do not leave it crippled, forced to struggle until death finally takes it." There was a quiet weight in his father¡¯s voice, a lesson woven into those words. The boy could feel it¡ªit wasn¡¯t just about hunting. It was about respect, about responsibility, about making choices that mattered. ¡ª Amiri opened his eyes, steadying his breath. Then, with precision, he released the arrow. The young stag¡ªnearly full-grown¡ªjerked in surprise and dashed forward a few steps before collapsing. Its body trembled briefly before growing still. "That was a clean shot¡ªright through the lungs, or maybe even the heart," Erik remarked, clapping Amiri on the shoulder. Amiri watched the fallen stag, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And you?" he asked in a level tone. "Not far from here," Erik replied, gesturing toward the direction where he had made his kill. The two of them moved past the stag and continued through the field of lush green grass. But before they got far, something caught their attention. Lying in the tall grass ahead was another fallen creature. The area around it was darker, the grass stained with blood. A lean, frail-looking doe lay curled up on the ground, its body motionless. Blood oozed from its wounds. One arrow had struck its face, embedding near its mouth. Another was lodged just above its front leg¡ªthe likely cause of its death. "You shot it twice?" Amiri asked, his voice tinged with surprise. "No! I only used one arrow," Erik insisted. "It must¡¯ve been wounded before I got to it." Amiri exhaled softly. "Then that¡¯s good, at least..." he murmured. The afternoon sunlight remained gentle, with the clear sky shifting subtly as time passed, as if easing away from the heat of midday. A cool breeze whispered through the air, lifting feathers and leaves to drift along its path. The scent of fresh grass lingered, filling the tranquil village with a warmth that felt like nature¡¯s embrace. Everything seemed to slow, caught in a moment unhurried¡ªthere was nothing to do but savor the quiet serenity of this peaceful afternoon. ¡°That¡¯ll be 30 Renn coins, dear,¡± said the woman in a spotless apron, her voice calm despite the lingering scent of raw meat in the air. She glanced down at the scale¡¯s needle as it settled, the young stag¡¯s carcass swaying slightly before finally coming to rest. Aunt Anna tied the rope to a nearby tree, securing it beside the scale near her wooden table, where a large cleaver lay resting among freshly cut slabs of meat hanging nearby. ¡°Could you butcher the hind legs for me to take home, Auntie? I¡¯ll sell you the rest.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll give you 15 Renn for it, then,¡± she replied, reaching into her apron pocket before handing Amiri a handful of silver coins. ¡°Thank you, Auntie,¡± Amiri said with a grateful smile. A young man appeared, his golden-blond hair flowing elegantly to his nape. His face and complexion radiated an otherworldly beauty, as if he were a celestial being. His form was flawless¡ªlike a figure torn from the pages of legend. ¡°Are you members of the Celestia royal family?¡± His voice was gentle, respectful, and unwavering. ¡°If you return to the land you came from, I will personally guarantee your safety.¡± He spoke with a soft smile, his demeanor exuding warmth. But in an instant, his form began to shift. The ethereal beauty of the young man vanished, replaced by a monstrous beast of staggering size. His body expanded into a towering dragon, its black scales gleaming like polished obsidian. Razor-sharp claws extended from his limbs, and his massive wings¡ªpure white, like those of a goddess descending from the heavens¡ªunfurled with a force that shook the air. A deafening roar erupted from his maw, splitting the sky with its sheer power. Then, he opened his jaws wide, revealing rows of jagged fangs before unleashing a beam of seething black light, shimmering with the same brilliance as his scales. "Father¡­ Mother¡­ Elle¡­!" A small girl cried out in despair as she collapsed to the ground, swallowed by the consuming darkness. ¡ª The young woman jolted awake, gasping for breath. Cold sweat trickled down her temple as her heart pounded violently, as if trying to break free from her chest. ¡°You¡¯re awake, sis?¡± A sweet, clear voice called out. Sitting at the edge of the bed, gently swinging her legs, was Iris, a book resting in her lap. ¡°You¡¯re a mage, aren¡¯t you? ¡­Then how did you survive an encounter with a beast like that?¡± Iris¡¯s soft smile lingered, yet within it lay a quiet curiosity¡ªone that held far more weight than mere innocent wonder. The Blade of Remembrance "Do not trust the stones that sleep, for on the night when the red moon shines, they shall open their eyes..." "They are not mere watchers... but those who remember the destruction of this world." "They hide in the shadows, atop towers and ruins. When night falls, the stone eyes will glow, their wings unfurl, and they will hunt." "But with the dawn, they will remain still, like carved statues. No one knows if they are mere watchers, or demons waiting for the day they awaken once more..." And then... the final page was turned, before the storybook was closed by the small hands of the girl. ¡ª The last light of day streamed through the old wooden window, casting a soft golden glow across the walls of the small wooden house. The atmosphere was warm and peaceful. A cool breeze blew through the thin curtains, causing them to sway gently. The creaky sound of the old wood beneath footsteps gave the house a lively presence. In the corner of the room, a wooden chair covered with a woolen rug invited rest, while the fireplace still smoldered, filling the air with the sweet aroma of burning wood and herbs from the simmering pot. The sound of water dripping from the pipes leading from the garden well created a quiet, melodic tune, adding to the peacefulness. Outside, a small garden full of plants reflected the last light of the day, as if enchanted. This wooden house was not just a dwelling; it was a tale of warmth and love, continuing through every moment of life. The sound of chatter and the laughter of the girl could be heard, drifting out from the slightly ajar door. Amiri pushed the old wooden door gently to open it wider. A cool breeze entered, bringing with it the scent of burning wood from the fireplace. "Amy..." Iris called with her sweet voice, sitting beside the bed of the recovering woman, her face still adorned with a bright smile. Amiri smiled in return, walking over to place the deer legs he had carried back onto the kitchen table and stowed his belongings in the storage room. "Amy... Let me see what you''ve brought today... Wow! A whole deer leg!" his mother exclaimed excitedly. "Mom, I''ll be back to help in a moment," Amiri replied softly, his voice warm. His mother smiled back before turning to prepare dinner, while Iris continued calling her brother without stopping. "So... what are you going to tell me?" Amiri walked over and gently patted his sister¡¯s head with affection. "Alice is amazing! She''s a real mage and even survived a beast attack!" Iris said with excitement, her eyes sparkling. Amiri raised an eyebrow slightly. "A beast? The ones in the stories?" "But Alice said she really saw one!" Iris insisted firmly. The young man fell silent for a moment, his gaze turning to the blonde woman sitting against the pillow. Her body was still covered with bandages, scars that could not have been caused by a mere animal... "What kind of beast was it?" Amiri asked seriously. Alice lifted her head slightly before answering in a soft voice, "A gargoyle." ¡ª The quiet, serene atmosphere of the evening lake was bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun, making the sky feel both warm and cool at the same time. The gentle flow of the water mirrored this balance, reflecting the light in shimmering sparks, like stars beginning to twinkle in the night. The horizon lowered, nearly blending with the distant mountains. The sound of the gently flowing water blended with the breeze rustling through the leaves that fell to the ground, as if time itself had come to a temporary halt. ¡°What did you catch, Will?¡± The voice of a man with light brown hair floated over, drawing near. He paused beside Will, offering a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, as if trying to ease the tension in the air. ¡°Just one,¡± Will muttered, furrowing his brow slightly as he set the fishing rod down on the ground and gazed out at the peacefully flowing water. ¡°I guess I¡¯m not having much luck today.¡± El paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun was slowly sinking. He squinted, speaking in a low tone, his voice seeming to reach out for Will''s attention. ¡°Do you remember the stories from the past¡­ the ones about beasts and magic?¡± Will turned to look at him and nodded slightly, his tone heavy with the weight of something hard to forget. ¡°That girl¡­ the one Amiri saved yesterday, you mean?¡± He sighed deeply before continuing. ¡°This might be bigger than we think.¡± ¡°El... the older he gets, the more like you he becomes,¡± Will said with a proud look, glancing up at the sky as though lost in thought. ¡°He¡¯s a kind, gentle boy¡­ easy to raise,¡± El replied with a smile, though it was tinged with an unspoken emotion, something hard to voice. ¡°You know¡­ the world won¡¯t be kind to him. Sooner or later, he¡¯ll have to face it,¡± Will said, his expression troubled as he picked up his fishing rod and began to gather his things. ¡°Hey, El¡­ stop by my house before you head home,¡± Will called out as El paused, folding up the canvas chair. ¡°I¡¯ve got something to return... You¡¯ll surely miss her,¡± Will added with a tone that held a deeper meaning. ¡ª The atmosphere in the dining room was warm and filled with joy. Laughter and chatter echoed throughout as hot meals were served on the old wooden table, fragrant with the scent of venison stew and freshly baked bread. Everyone gathered around the table, sharing in the happiness. The soft glow from the oil lanterns made everyone¡¯s shadows appear gentle, like a spell that made time pass slowly. But when Father stopped serving himself, he placed his spoon down and slowly lifted his gaze. His eyes were resolute, and although a smile still lingered at the corners of his mouth, his demeanor shifted noticeably. The lively chatter that had once filled the room began to fade, and Father¡¯s voice became the focal point. ¡°Gargoyles... the witch-hunting monsters,¡± Father¡¯s voice, once warm, was now filled with mystery, as though it came from a place far beyond this world. A hush fell over the room. Everyone stared at Father, waiting for the tale to unfold. The faint clinking of dishes and spoons faded into silence, as if everyone had sensed that something significant was about to be revealed. Father paused for a moment before beginning to tell a dark and mysterious story from the past. ¡°They say... they were once cursed into stone by a sorcerer of immense power,¡± his voice low and clear. ¡°But for reasons unknown, someone broke the spell on them, allowing them to live among humans.¡± ¡°They were filled with anger and vengeance toward the sorcerer. They hunted at all hours, day and night, targeting those who wielded magic and absorbing their powers for themselves.¡± ¡°They had an uncanny resistance to magic and could heal themselves in ways beyond belief.¡± ¡°One legend tells that... even a sorcerer with power equal to that of a dragon could not defeat a gargoyle with such immense magical strength.¡± ¡°How can we defeat them?¡± Iris¡¯s clear voice interrupted, cutting through the tension. Father smiled warmly before continuing, ¡°Only beastly weapon master can defeat them.¡± ¡°And... where did you hear this, Father? I¡¯ve never heard such a thing¡­¡± Iris propped her chin on the table, pouting slightly. Father paused for a moment, then smiled faintly and replied, ¡°Well... from your grandfather.¡± At that, everyone around the table burst into laughter. The atmosphere in the room returned to warmth, as the shadows of mystery and darkness seemed to lift, lingering softly in the air. ¡ª The atmosphere in the room grew calmer as time passed into the evening. The ticking of the clock on the wall echoed softly in the silence. Outside the window, the sky darkened, and one by one, the stars appeared, as if watching over the world, casting a gentle light upon the stillness below. Inside the room, the warm glow of the oil lamp on the table continued to provide a soft radiance, filling the space with warmth. A cool breeze drifted through the window, making the thin curtains sway gently, the sound of the wind adding to the serene and calming ambiance. Alice had just recovered from her injuries. Iris''s little storybook lay across her lap, and her hand, still marked with small cuts, turned the pages carefully. She focused intently on the story, though the pain lingered, the world around her still offered peace to hold on to. The sound of footsteps drew closer, accompanied by the enticing scent of food. Amiri entered the room, carrying a plate of hot stew, a large piece of bread, and a cup of warm milk whose scent seemed to warm Alice''s very breath. "I got some venison today," Amiri said, placing the food on the bedside table. His gentle smile spread across his face as he spoke, offering with kindness, "I made some stew with part of it, and the rest will be ham." Alice smiled back at him before taking a bite of the bread, savoring it with quiet contentment. Although her attention remained on the book in her hands, the delicious food lightened her spirit, making her feel warm and comforted. Suddenly, the sound of Iris''s footsteps approached quickly, her manner serious. "I helped with the cooking too!" she said, adopting a playful tone, as though trying to make sure everyone noticed how important she was. Amiri turned to look at his younger sister, smiling faintly before speaking with amusement. "Help? You just came in to cause trouble, didn''t you?" He grinned widely, making Iris fall silent, though she still shot her brother an irritated glance. Alice, lying in bed, chuckled softly at the exchange. Amid the warm banter, everything in the room seemed to radiate joy, love, and an unbreakable bond. The atmosphere was filled with warmth and happiness, creating a sense of belonging and connection that made one forget the challenges that awaited in the world outside. Cooking together as a family brought everyone closer, making them feel like they were truly part of each other. ¡ª If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. As time passed quietly, Alice began to walk again¡­ with the aid of crutches. Though there was still some lingering pain, she smiled at the slow but steady recovery taking place within her. Under the soft sunlight of late morning, Iris, unable to contain her excitement, approached the young woman with a lively demeanor. "Today, I''m going to take you on a tour of the village!" Iris exclaimed, her voice ringing with the joy of a child receiving a new toy. She beamed and led the way, explaining, "Amy once told me that ''Ariawood'' means a music box! He said this village is like a song, beautiful and full of life." Alice smiled faintly, feeling warmth at Iris''s words. Though she didn¡¯t put much stock in them, she couldn¡¯t help but relax in the presence of the girl''s cheerful spirit. They crossed a small wooden bridge over a narrow canal and entered the village, which was surrounded by lush greenery. The songs of birds harmonized with the sound of the water flowing through the canal, slowly creating an atmosphere like something out of the fairy tales Alice had read. Iris took Alice to a bakery with an oven that smelled wonderful, the scent of freshly baked bread filling the air. The bread made daily at the bakery was a local favorite. Iris picked up a warm loaf and handed it to Alice. "Try it! This is the best bread in the village!" Iris said cheerfully. They then headed to an old inn situated on the village road, its wooden veranda lined with small trees. The warm atmosphere of the inn felt inviting, and the people there seemed to know Iris well. They greeted her with friendly smiles and affection, and Iris cheerfully responded in kind. "Isn''t this village just lovely?" Iris asked Alice as they passed a small flower shop, its shelves bursting with brightly colored flowers. "It¡¯s full of life," Alice murmured softly, smiling in return. Iris led Alice to a beautiful lake in the center of the village, its clear waters reflecting the sky and the large trees surrounding it. They sat by the lake, taking in the peaceful, shady nature and enjoying the tranquility of the moment. The small courtyard in front of the little house was calm under the soft afternoon sunlight, which was beginning to fade. The cool air mixed with the gentle light from the sky. Though it was usually hot at this time of day, a cool breeze swept through the area, and the sounds of birds and the scent of flowers made everything feel still in a peaceful serenity. This was the perfect time to relax, surrounded by the greenery and blooming flowers. The rhythm of time seemed to calm the mind, leaving no rush or chaos¡ªlike a picture of restful happiness. It was the ideal moment for a quiet conversation or simply to admire the view of this small village. "Amiri, I have something important for you," the father¡¯s deep voice called as he beckoned his son closer, holding a long object as he approached. "When I was 19, that was when I got my first real sword," the father said as he handed the weapon to the young man. The young man drew the sword from its black metal scabbard, the sound of the blade sliding out was soft, like a melody drifting from an instrument in the midst of quietness. Every movement was filled with grace and power. The weapon in his hand seemed almost alive, adorned with metal at both the hilt and the end of the guard, adding both strength and beauty to the blade. It symbolized the fusion of beauty and death. As he gripped the handle wrapped in dark leather, the stability he felt from it gave him a sense of the latent power within. The double-edged sword, with its razor-sharp silvery blade, reflected light in a way that made it seem lighter than expected. Its weight felt like a breath of wind, so light it seemed to vanish into the breeze, designed to move swiftly and precisely. The hilt was cast into a rounded shape, with silver rose patterns that hadn¡¯t yet bloomed, symbolizing beauty hiding danger. The curved crossguard spiraled into twisting, flowing lines, almost seeming alive. It looked as if it could move with the wind, its beauty so captivating that one might forget the underlying threat, as if it were created for the art of killing. If one looked at the sword long enough, they would feel a chill in the air, as though the blade were not just a weapon but a tool of fate¡ªone that could lead its wielder to victory or drag them into destruction, unknown to them. Amiri swung the sword with one hand, expertly testing its balance. ¡°It¡¯s so light, Father¡­¡± ¡°She¡¯s called Gale,¡± the father replied with a soft smile, ¡°the lightest hand-and-a-half sword I''ve ever used.¡± "Then why don¡¯t you use her anymore? The sound she makes is beautiful." Amiri swung it skillfully with both hands. "The song she sings¡­ seems like it¡¯s for you." The father''s expression showed a hint of concern. Amiri sheathed the sword just as Alice and Iris returned. "Alice... you really seem to love it here," Iris said cheerfully, raising both hands in excitement, making both the father and brother smile. "Alice..." the young man turned to meet the young woman''s gaze. "When you¡¯re better... you¡¯ll leave, won¡¯t you?" Amiri spoke with a calm yet slightly sorrowful tone. The young woman avoided his gaze. "I¡­ have to travel to my family... in Lunasia," she answered, her voice shifting slightly. "Then¡­ I¡¯ll take you there. It would be dangerous for you to go alone." Iris glanced between Amiri and Alice, feeling an odd sensation about the chemistry that seemed to be filling the air. ¡ª The soft morning sunlight streamed through the trees, settling on the small, cozy house in front of them. The day felt quieter than usual, the sound of birds singing becoming a soft, harmonious hum in the air. As the sunlight gently kissed the leaves, a pale golden reflection shimmered on the stone ground, creating a warm and relaxing atmosphere, yet there was an undercurrent of something unspoken¡ªlike a calmness that lingered in the air, masking the sorrow that hung within it. The father and mother stood at the front of the house, their expressions betraying the heaviness of the moment, as if they were silently bidding farewell to their son, who was about to embark on a journey. They had not spoken much to each other, but the sadness in their eyes was impossible to hide. The mother¡¯s face remained clouded with sorrow, while the father, once strong, struggled to maintain his composure. He held his wife tightly, as if to offer both of them the strength they needed in this quiet farewell. Alice expressed her gratitude to Amiri¡¯s parents, thanking them not only for taking care of her with love and concern, but for providing warmth and affection as if they were her true family. "Couldn¡¯t you stay a little longer...?" Iris''s voice, full of tenderness and a hint of pleading, broke through the silence. The atmosphere grew even heavier with her words, laden with an unspoken sadness. Alice knelt down to embrace Iris, saying nothing, simply letting the moment pass. Iris¡¯s small body trembled slightly, knowing that a farewell was coming, yet she understood that Alice had to leave. Amiri smiled lightly at his parents, trying to ease the tension with a calm expression, aware that Lunasia, the city he was traveling to, was not far from their village. "El, I really don¡¯t want him to grow up," his mother¡¯s voice quivered, a soft admission of her reluctance to accept her son¡¯s growing independence. The father, who had never shown weakness, spoke in a tone that carried an unfamiliar tremor, "I¡¯ve known from the start, that someday Amiri would..." As he finished speaking, he tightened his arm around his wife¡¯s shoulder, smiling gently at his son, who stood waiting before them. Iris, still standing in the scene, was confused, unable to grasp the emotions behind their expressions. She asked with innocence, "Why do mom and dad look like that... Lunasia is only half a day¡¯s walk from here... Amy will be back soon, right?" Her question made her parents smile faintly, but with a touch of bitterness. They turned to watch their son and the young woman slowly walking away, their departure marking a moment filled with hidden emotions. As Amiri and Alice turned their backs on the house, the family stood still, knowing that the distance growing between them was not just a matter of miles. It symbolized a life change, one that could never be undone. "I really do love Amy, El..." the mother¡¯s voice echoed in the air as she clung to her husband. "I know... I know..." the father murmured, gently stroking his wife¡¯s head, offering comfort. They stood there in silence, giving space to the emotions of love and sorrow that filled the moment. Only Iris remained in the spot, still confused and unaware of the meaning behind her parents'' actions. She stood, puzzled and questioning, unable to understand the shift in their behavior from what she had always known. ¡ª The road stretched out ahead, paved with clean, gray bricks, the smooth surface free from dust, making the journey feel effortless and easy. Tall trees lined the sides, their presence framed by the cool, gentle breeze that carried the refreshing scents of earth and foliage. The entire path seemed to resonate with a sense of calm and abundance, as if everything around were basking in a life full of balance. In the distance, a familiar merchant was traveling with a cart laden with goods bound for the village of Ariawood. He began his journey from the city of Lunacia at dawn, when the first rays of sunlight pierced the morning mist. The cool wind from the mountains made the journey feel less tiring. The slow creak of the cart mixed with the birdsong in the trees, filling the atmosphere with a serene joy. Thanks to the well-maintained road, the merchant could reach Ariawood by mid-morning and still make it back to Lunacia by early evening without much fatigue. The journey, though familiar, felt comforting and peaceful, imbued with the beauty of nature as the trees and cool winds accompanied him the entire way. ¡°Your family must be worried...¡± The young woman avoided the boy¡¯s gaze and said nothing in reply. ¡°Do you travel often?¡± Alice asked briefly, as they passed a row of tall trees. The further they moved away from the village, the thicker the trees became. ¡°I don''t get out much... It''s been so long since I last visited Lunacia with my friend,¡± Amiri tried to recall, almost unable to remember the last time he came to the city with Erik. ¡°Thank you for helping me earlier,¡± Alice said softly, but Amiri didn''t respond. Although the road remained smooth, the silence began to creep in as they moved farther from Ariawood. The sounds of people and activity slowly faded, replaced by the quiet rustling of leaves. The road shifted into a sparse forest, where the trees weren¡¯t dense enough to block out all light but created enough shade to cast a faint glow. The sunlight grew diffused, mingling with the soft breeze that carried dried leaves along the way. The scenery, enveloped by the sparse forest, made the surroundings feel eerily quiet, as if time had paused for a moment. The only sound was the gentle flow of a nearby stream, its murmur so soft it was almost imperceptible. The sound of water flowing seemed to contrast strangely with the chilling, lonely atmosphere, as though something was lurking in the silence. Sunlight filtering through the trees added an air of mystery to the path. Even though the road was smooth, it couldn¡¯t escape the sense of oddness that lingered. The clash of swords rang out! Amiri gritted his teeth as he absorbed the blow from a mysterious man. ¡°Give me the girl, and you might survive!¡± the chilling voice threatened. The mysterious man attacked swiftly, only to find himself being pursued instead! Amiri counterattacked fiercely, swinging his sword with the force of a storm. Each strike grew heavier and more intense, throwing the stranger off balance for a moment before the sound of steel piercing flesh rang out. A giant spear pierced through the middle of the man¡¯s torso! Amiri spun to look¡ªAlice was standing behind him. She flicked her hand lightly, causing the spear to float in mid-air before it shot forward, impaling the stranger in the throat. But what happened next chilled the blood in both of their veins... The mysterious man slowly pulled the spear out of his body. Black blood, like ink, dripped onto the ground, yet the torn flesh hardened, eventually turning to stone and disintegrating as though the wound had never existed. ¡°This is the sorcerer I¡¯ve been seeking.¡± His skin tore into ribbons, and his head morphed into a goat¡¯s skull. His tall form stretched, dark wings resembling a bat¡¯s sprouted from his back, and massive claws emerged. The stench of decay filled the air. Flames roared toward him, but they had no effect. With a sudden, swift motion, he shot into the sky. Amiri wasted no time. He leaped high, his dual swords almost vanishing with the wind. The clash of metal rang with power every time his blades met the demon¡¯s claws. The gargoyle opened its mouth, revealing sharp fangs. A sparkling black flame gathered in its mouth, forming a massive ball of shadowy fire before it shot toward him with great speed. He barely dodged in time, but it was too fast! Its claws slashed deep into his flesh, blood spurting from the wound. Pain surged through him, threatening to bring him to his knees. Every breath felt like a dagger, twisting within his chest. Alice tried everything she could, using all her magic, but nothing seemed to work. The demon closed in on Amiri, who could barely stand. The creature grinned cruelly, its victory near. Alice stood, frozen, as if bound by time. ¡°I''m sorry...¡± Her voice was a whisper, barely a breath, as she struggled to watch Amiri lying helpless before her. Weakly, Alice fell to her knees, as if the world itself had denied her the chance to change anything.
The air, once still, began to churn, as if the sky itself would rip apart. Lightning flashed through the clouds, followed by a thunderous roar. Amiri stood up, his neck still under the threat of the demon''s claws¡ªwhen it suddenly halted. Crack! A storm of blades swung back, severing the demon¡¯s arm instantly. The gargoyle recoiled, its stone eyes widening in shock. ¡°¡­The wind... the storm... What kind of grim are you!?¡± Swish! Another wave of blades sliced through, severing one of its wings before it could move. Its once-mighty claws now trembled in fear! It howled in pain! Blue Nights Shadow Before her¡­ A young girl lay collapsed on the ground, her wide eyes reflecting utter despair. The colossal black dragon bared its fangs once more, its pristine white wings unfurling to their full span. Dark energy, as if drawn from the abyss itself, coiled and gathered within its maw, devouring the light around it. In an instant, the once-brilliant sky was swallowed by darkness. Storm clouds converged into a singular, swirling mass. Thunder roared¡ªloud enough to shake the world itself. CRACK! A blinding bolt of lightning streaked down, striking the dragon¡¯s skull with a force that split the heavens. Its agonized screech tore through the air, piercing through to the bone. The girl squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for death¡¯s cold embrace¡ªyet it never came. Instead, she felt something else¡ªsomeone standing between her and oblivion. "Are you... alright?" She gasped, her trembling gaze lifting to see the figure of a young man. Her heart pounded wildly. The world blurred. The deafening noise faded into silence. A chilling sensation seeped through her body, as though she had been plunged into the depths of a long-buried memory.
"Are you... alright?" The voice¡ªfamiliar, yet distant¡ªbroke through the haze. Alice''s eyes flew open, her breath catching in her throat. Her body was frozen, cold as ice. Her heart raced as the face before her overlapped with a figure from the past. She jolted upright, her vision blurred by unshed tears. Her hands trembled as she reached forward, grasping tightly onto Amiri¡¯s sleeve¡ª as though, if she let go, he would vanish, just like someone she had lost before. For a fleeting moment¡­ time itself stood still. Then, the clock resumed its ticking. "We¡­ need to get out of here. Can you walk?" Her voice was hoarse, the words barely escaping her lips¡ª as if they were trapped between two fractured timelines. Amiri blinked, glancing down at the small, trembling hand clutching his sleeve. He wasn¡¯t sure why she was crying¡­ But he chose not to ask.
The dim glow of candlelight flickered, casting long shadows over rows of glass bottles filled with colorful herbal medicines, neatly arranged on an old wooden shelf. A worn desk in the corner was cluttered with open medical tomes, some pages folded at the edges¡ªa testament to their frequent use. A faint yet distinct aroma of herbs lingered in the air, mingling with the sterile scent of antiseptic. On a simple wooden bed, a little girl lay motionless, her breaths shallow. Her tiny fingers clutched the blanket tightly, as if grasping onto something unseen. Beside her, the child¡¯s mother stood, hands trembling as she held onto her daughter¡¯s small, fragile hand. Her vision blurred with tears as she spoke, voice quivering: ¡°Doctor¡­ please¡­ save my child¡­¡± The physician standing by the bedside said nothing at first, his gaze lingering on the girl''s pale face¡ªso colorless it seemed drained of life. Yet, even with her eyes closed, a faint tremor in her lashes betrayed the struggle within. His hand hesitated for a moment before reaching for a small vial filled with a soft, crimson-colored herbal extract. Closing his eyes briefly, he finally spoke, his voice calm yet resolute: ¡°Rest assured, ma¡¯am. Mia¡­ she can still be saved.¡± The mother almost spoke again, but her words caught in her throat. ¡°Madam, please wait outside the treatment room,¡± the assistant nurse gently urged, offering a polite yet firm reassurance. Though reluctant, the mother stepped outside, her heart still heavy with worry. Inside, the doctor worked swiftly. He drew a few drops of blood into a vial, mixing it carefully with the red herbal extract. With practiced precision, he disinfected the wound and stemmed the bleeding with steady hands. His movements were swift and decisive, yet there was a quiet tenderness in the way he handled the fragile child. The assistant standing by his side wiped the sweat from his brow before retrieving another vial. ¡°The antiseptic is ready, Dr. Theo.¡± Theo nodded, his tone clipped yet composed. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing she arrived in time. Any later, and the infection would have spread to her vital organs...¡± As the treatment continued, the assistant meticulously prepared each tool without a moment''s delay. In the corner of the room, a small blood-stained doll lay abandoned, its frayed stitches glinting softly under the flickering candlelight¡ªlike a fragile life being stitched back together. Then, at last, the door to the treatment room swung open. The child¡¯s mother rushed inside, her voice urgent: ¡°Mia¡ªhow is she?¡± ¡°She¡¯s safe now,¡± Theo reassured her with a calm smile. ¡°We¡¯ll need to monitor her for a while, but she should be able to go home soon.¡± The assistant stepped forward, adding, ¡°We¡¯ll prepare a room for her to rest. Dr. Theo will continue checking her condition regularly.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no place safer than here¡­ not for a Grim¡­¡± the mother murmured softly. She barely managed to hold back her tears¡ªnot only out of relief for her daughter¡¯s survival but because, for the first time in a long while, she felt hope. Theo reached for the little girl¡¯s doll, placing it gently beside her before gazing at her peaceful face. His quiet smile held an unspoken promise¡ªa determination to protect her, no matter what lay ahead. He would not let anything take her away. Not now. Not ever.
The door creaked open once more, and the flickering light of candle lanterns spilled into the dimly lit infirmary. Alice carefully supported Amiri, whose body had been drained of blood to the point of near collapse. He barely had the strength to move, unable even to utter a word. Every shallow breath sent fresh waves of pain through him. A young man, appearing to be around Alice¡¯s age, swiftly stepped forward, his gaze scanning the wound with clinical precision. ¡°Would you mind stepping outside for a moment?¡± he asked, his voice calm yet laced with quiet kindness. Before she could respond, the curtain was drawn shut, leaving Alice standing outside, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. Inside the secluded space, Amiri''s once-deep wound had begun to close on its own. The bleeding, which had seemed relentless only moments ago, now slowed to a halt without the healer even lifting a finger. Yet the young man did not appear surprised in the slightest. Instead, he calmly reached for a clean linen cloth and a vial of pale green antiseptic, before turning to prepare a glass syringe. Outside, Alice paced anxiously, her footsteps breaking the heavy silence of the room. The rhythmic tapping of her boots against the wooden floor made Theo glance up. He studied her for a brief moment, noting the tension she tried to suppress. The quiet was punctuated only by the occasional sound of medical instruments. Then, at last, the curtain was drawn back. ¡°How is he¡­ Theo?¡± Alice asked, her voice laced with worry, her expression betraying her unease. Her voice wavered slightly. ¡°He¡¯s stable now. He just needs rest. I¡¯ll continue to monitor him,¡± Theo replied, his tone relaxed, betraying no sign of concern. The door to the patient¡¯s room closed behind them. The two stood together, speaking with the familiarity of old acquaintances. ¡°How have you been, Theo? The infirmary¡¯s been packed lately.¡± The young man with jet-black hair let out a soft sigh. ¡°Yeah¡­ but hopefully, it won¡¯t get any worse.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°When I first met you, I never imagined you¡¯d grow up to be a doctor.¡± He chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. ¡°Did you think I¡¯d become a baron instead?¡± Laughter filled the space between them, light and unrestrained, until it gradually faded. Then, in a quieter voice tinged with curiosity, Alice asked, ¡°Do you know¡­ what he really is?¡± Her eyes gleamed with a hidden depth, as if she were concealing something beneath her words. A moment of silence stretched between them. ¡°The medical records of my patients are confidential,¡± Theo said evenly, his gaze steady and unyielding, as though he could see right through her.
Theo walked quietly back to his study, his steps measured and deliberate. He opened a drawer with great care, as though handling something of the utmost value in his life. His hand gently lifted a small wooden carving of a little fox, exquisitely detailed, and he stared at it intently. It was a cherished gift from a momentous day¡ªone that held both tender memories and bittersweet pain. At times, the shadows of the past felt like a scar deeply etched into the soul. Yet, over time, it became an inseparable part of the beauty and significance of his life. As he gazed at the delicate little fox, he reflected on how far he had come, feeling the quiet sense of growth and meaning that had emerged from his past.
The breathtaking natural landscape stretched out before them, a serene expanse. The children sat on a grassy hill, gazing at the calm sea in the distance. The silence and tranquility of this place felt like a sanctuary, a peaceful escape from the chaotic world beyond. Alice smiled softly as she watched Elle, running playfully around. The little girl''s small figure darted back and forth with boundless energy, her laughter echoing with joy. Alice''s eyes shimmered with warmth and memories. "Theo, what do you dream of becoming?" Alice asked quietly, the cool breeze sweeping through her hair. Theo smiled at the girl with the most gentle eyes. "I want to be a baron, ruling over a small town with happiness... and you?" Alice turned her gaze to the distant sea, her eyes filled with hope. "Then I shall be a diplomat, bringing peace far beyond the kingdom¡¯s borders, led by the art of negotiation." The boy and the girl sat on the grassy hill, feeling the soft wind brush against them, bringing with it the scent of fresh air. As they looked out at the sky reflected on the gentle waves, they smiled and laughed together, a perfect moment where everything in the world seemed filled with joy and peace. But the silence was soon broken by a call from the girl''s mother. "Elle, Alice, it¡¯s time for us to leave." The children turned their heads to see their mother standing at a distance, with their father beside her, both smiling warmly. Alice slowly rose to her feet and looked at Theo, her eyes filled with the reluctant sorrow of parting. "I have to go home now, Theo. Let''s meet again someday." Theo gave a small nod, smiling at her. The feeling of separation was never easy, but he knew deep down that their paths would diverge today. The city of Syrin lies at the farthest western edge of the Myriel Kingdom, a luxurious, majestic, and prosperous port city. With its modern urban planning and striking innovations, Syrin blends seamlessly with a flourishing industry, rivaling even the capital, Aidengaard, though it is considerably smaller. The city is not only a hub for maritime trade, boasting advantages over other cities, but it also draws travelers from all corners of the world, captivated by its stunning scenery and rich, diverse culture. Furthermore, Syrin holds unique resources that are found nowhere else in the kingdom, fortifying its economy and cementing its undeniable position as the kingdom¡¯s central trading nexus. The dimly lit room, dominated by a large table, was surrounded by numerous people. In the center of the table was a map resembling a chessboard, piles of papers, and various other tools, all in a state of disarray. ¡°We need to raise the import and export taxes from Aidengaard a little more,¡± said the middle-aged man at the head of the table, his voice low and curt, his eyes filled with disdain. ¡°Sir... If we do that... The King will never agree,¡± a young nobleman at the center of the table interjected, his small frame trembling slightly. ¡°This city has enough potential to stand on its own, without relying on the capital... We should govern ourselves!¡± The man replied, his voice firm, every word laced with force. ¡°But the King... has never conceded to us. We¡¯ve been selling iron ore at prices lower than the market rate, and now he''s negotiating to buy silver ore at a lower price,¡± ¡°If we keep selling goods to the capital at these prices... Other cities will start bargaining with us too,¡± said the man sitting beside him, his tone anxious. ¡°We expanded the roads into the city with our own funds... Why doesn¡¯t the King recognize this?¡± A loud bang echoed as his fist hit the table, frustration evident in his voice. ¡°Is there no one here who sees another way? Has anyone tried negotiating?¡± His voice grew harsher, stress radiating from his every word. The room fell into silence. ¡°Sir...¡± A cold voice broke the stillness from the corner of the room. ¡°What?¡± He snapped back sharply. ¡°Do you think... we should start establishing our own kingdom?¡± The middle-aged man fell silent for a moment before turning to face him. ¡°Finally, someone thinks of it... Speak up then.¡± His hands clenched tightly on the table, fighting to contain his anger. The young nobleman stood, straightened the papers on the table, and placed four or five differently colored pieces of chess pieces on the map surrounding Syrin. ¡°Although our city is prosperous, in order to stand independently without relying on external factors, we need to expand further, Count Vorden,¡± he spoke with conviction. ¡°To the west, adjacent to the city wall, we can build additional housing for laborers.¡± ¡°To the east, in the industrial district, we will expand the metal processing plants.¡± ¡°To the south, we¡¯ll establish new farms and livestock, and in the northeast, we¡¯ll bolster our military training. As for the roads we¡¯ve already expanded, we¡¯ll further extend them if we can secure sufficient labor and resources.¡± ¡°Why are you all sitting there like fools? Write down what Casper has said!¡± Vorden shouted, his frustration boiling over. The nobles around the table hurriedly scrambled to take notes of the plans the young man had laid out. ¡°And what about labor, Casper? We don¡¯t have enough people to expand this much,¡± Vorden pointed to the position of the factories, raising an eyebrow. ¡°That... We¡¯ll need to use your power to implement policy, Sir,¡± the young nobleman replied coldly, his gaze fixed on Vorden. ¡°Policy?¡± Vorden asked, puzzled. ¡°To achieve unity, the people of the kingdom don¡¯t need to be of the same race. As long as they share the same ideals, we can build our own kingdom,¡± ¡°In the first year after the conquest, the first Blue King nearly wiped out the dragons and exalted the human race above all others. Beasts had to hide in fear.¡± ¡°From the information I¡¯ve gathered, the taxes we collect from the citizens don¡¯t match the population living in our city. This means... There are many hidden inhabitants among us. If we bring the beasts hiding in the city into the workforce, we will not only gain more taxes, but the city will also grow rapidly.¡± ¡°The beasts... This might not be possible,¡± Vorden shook his head. ¡°If they¡¯ve been living with us for so long, why not make them pay taxes and live openly in the city?¡± ¡°If our city grows and this idea spreads, it will greatly oppose the Blue Royalty¡¯s principles. We will have allies around the city, which will reduce the influence from the capital.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to implement extreme policies. Just say that the Grim, who live in this city, can work and pay taxes legally. Their children, born in the city, will become citizens. Our city will grow slowly and steadily. They will gradually move in with us.¡± ¡°Are Grim and beasts the same thing?¡± Vorden asked, deep in thought. ¡°Exactly. Grim is the term that beasts use for each other. If you use this term with them, they¡¯ll feel they aren¡¯t being segregated, and they¡¯ll join your cause,¡± ¡°Unity is not just about uniting races... It¡¯s about building collective power so that, in the end, the capital won¡¯t be able to touch us,¡± the shrewd nobleman said at length, his eyes lighting up with a clear plan. ¡°By doing so, you will become... King Vorden I, ¡®The Fair,¡¯ of the Heidel Dynasty.¡± ¡°As for you, Casper de Holsen, you will be the one to crown me.¡±
Not long after the new policy was implemented, Syrin blossomed into a boundless hub of prosperity. People from all tribes poured in like a mighty river, transforming the city into a vibrant melting pot of languages and cultures. Life surged through its streets with an energy all its own. Employment rates soared, and the taxes collected were swiftly reinvested into developing the city¡¯s infrastructure. Housing, industrial factories, farms, and livestock spread out across every corner. The wealth that had once been accumulated now flourished and grew each day, to the point where some began to say, "This is the new capital by the sea," or "This city is more prosperous than many others combined." "Father... do you really think this is a good idea?" The boy asked, his small hand gripped tightly by his father as they walked past what was once a marketplace, now transformed into a grand shopping district. "Why, Theo?" Casper replied, glancing at the boy as they passed a magnificent fountain at the heart of the city. "We never lived alongside the Grims before... but now, there are so many of them?" The boy asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "We can live together, son. Look around you¡ªthis is what it truly means to share a common vision." Casper smiled with pride, his heart swelling as his plans neared fruition.
In the grand hall, which stretched deep into the shadows, the stillness only heightened the sense of hidden secrets and power. The flickering candlelight and the stars from above shone through the thick stone windows, casting their glow against the cold, hard stone walls. The soft, trembling sound of the candles¡¯ flame made everything seem even more impossible to escape from the watchful gaze. The young man sat in quiet repose, resting his chin on his hand, his legs crossed atop the luxurious throne that seamlessly blended beauty with a commanding strength. The crown, forged from pure platinum, gleamed with a subtle brilliance in the dim light, a symbol of both the authority and the grandeur of its wearer. Adorned with rich, vibrant velvet in hues of deep blue, and encrusted with sapphires that sparkled like stars on the darkest night, the crown was a testament to the glory of its ruler. Above his head loomed the immense skull of a dragon, a formidable presence in the hall ¡ª it was said to have been slain by the first Blue King, who once ruled both the land and the skies. "Your Majesty... we are beginning to face a severe trade deficit," the visitor spoke, their voice trembling with concern. The raised hand, slightly quivering, revealed their anxiety. "And what of it?" The young king, seated in the shadows, replied in a calm tone, his gaze fixed ahead. His voice was indifferent, yet so firm it carried more weight than mere words. Everything he spoke seemed to reverberate with the hidden power within the shadows around him. "If things continue as they are, Syrin may declare independence," the nobleman hurriedly explained, though he still endeavored to maintain decorum. "They''ve adopted a policy of embracing the beastmen. I propose declaring them rebels and sending troops to subdue them." "Sending troops, you say... What legitimacy do we have?" The king¡¯s voice, emerging from the darkness, replied flatly. His face was expressionless, yet the oppressive power that emanated from him could not be concealed by the shadows that filled the hall. "Well...," the nobleman stammered, clearly shaken. His hands trembled slightly, and his proposed plans seemed insignificant in comparison to the calm that enveloped the room. "I''ve wanted this to unfold this way from the start," the voice from the shadows spoke again, measured and clear. Every word seemed like a pressure that pushed back against the nobleman, as though the weight of those words was embedded in the very air, making it impossible for him to stop shaking in fear. "Everything is proceeding according to the plan I devised, and I will make them see who controls this game." The Black Prince "The king will not sit idly by on this matter!" Vorden declared. "Yes," Casper''s voice echoed in the meeting room of the nobles of Syrin, "The king will close off our trade routes, forbidding commerce within this kingdom. However..." "The capital will soon face a shortage of raw iron and silver ore. I have already negotiated with the ambassadors of the Celestia Dynasty of Carista. We¡¯ve reached a special agreement¡ªtax reductions, a shared harbor, and a monopoly contract on key goods, with prices set by us." "We will get through this period, and eventually, the king will have no choice but to negotiate and reopen trade with us, because their resources will run out," Casper said with confidence. The room fell silent, before whispers began to rise among the nobles. They could sense the air of superior negotiation. Syrin was about to take a step forward¡ªnot just as a port city anymore, but as the one controlling a vital artery of the entire kingdom''s economy. "Ivan," Vorden turned to a loyal noble. "Go check the markets and make sure there are no obstacles."
The Seahorse Grand Port unveiled its grandeur from the balcony of a fine restaurant, where Theo sat atop a small hill, gazing at the largest port in the kingdom. The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore below was a steady soundtrack, while the sea breeze carried a mix of salty air and the scent of spices from the kitchen of the restaurant. Theo sat at a marble table, his eyes wandering over the hundreds of ships docked in the harbor. Some sported family flags on their masts, while others were passenger vessels freshly arrived. People rushed about, loading and unloading goods, while the bustling cries of merchants rang out from the docks, accompanied by the calls of seagulls soaring low overhead. Seahorse Grand Port was the beating heart of trade and power. From its humble beginnings as a fishing village, it had grown into a thriving metropolis after Captain Edric Walther¡ªan ambitious seafarer¡ªdiscovered a secret trade route connecting two continents. Gold, jewels, and precious goods poured in, transforming the port into a grand city. Legends spoke of the Golden Seahorse¡ªsome believed it to be a hidden treasure beneath the sea, while others saw it as a symbol of destiny, guiding the city toward greatness. The city was a melting pot of diverse people¡ªmerchants, pirates, and perhaps even spies of the royal family¡ªinterwoven in a web of secrets and bustling trade. Theo raised his glass slowly, savoring the moment, as the sounds of the waves, the people, and the ships crashing against the water merged into a single rhythmic pulse. If Myriel is the kingdom of miracles¡­ Seahorse Grand Port is the heart that breathes life into those miracles. The junks sailed in and out without pause, merchants and travelers relentlessly vying for profit. And amid the sea of people, Syrin''s hopes began to take root. Ivan walked through the market, lined with goods from every corner of the world. His gaze swept over the docks, where every decision made today could lead to great changes in the future... "Garlic buttered Syrin black prawn, red scallop ceviche with white wine sauce, and grilled snow pearl sea bass with brandy sauce, served with local salad," the waitress announced as she placed the seafood on the table¡ªa renowned dish that never failed to impress. The prawn was sweet and tender on the inside, with a crisp exterior, and the garlic butter sauce was rich and smooth. Theo pointed towards the new structure rising above the port. "What¡¯s he building there, Father?" the boy asked. "I think he''s going to build a throne room there, son," Casper replied with a smile. "Why do you want this place to become a kingdom... and what will you gain from it?" Jessica asked. "I just want my hometown to prosper. I don''t want anyone to suffer from the kind of poverty I once knew," Casper answered, filled with hope. After their meal, Theo and his family descended from the restaurant, making their way down the lively main street of Syrin. The sound of bells rang out as the door opened¡ªalong with the bustle of souvenir shops selling pearls, and the hum of voices as people bartered or chatted with the vendors. In the town square, not far from the coast, stood the golden seahorse fountain, shimmering in the sunlight. The sweet aroma of pastries drifted from nearby bakeries, blending with the scent of fresh seafood sold along the streets. Casper gazed at the fountain, his mood light as he spoke, "There sure are a lot of visitors today." He looked around with a smile. "Who wouldn''t want to visit a city this beautiful?" Theo walked alongside his father and mother, amidst the crowds and the elegant homes surrounding the square. He could feel that change was in the air¡ªnot only for the city but for his own life as well.
As evening fell upon the capital city of Aidengaard, the most prosperous city in the kingdom, the sky shifted to a rich blend of orange and red. Crystal lanterns, intricately crafted, illuminated the bustling streets and commercial districts, casting their glow upon a city that seemed to pulse with life and success. Yet, within the Blackthorn Citadel, things were different. The grand, understated throne room, bathed in the gentle flicker of candlelight, seemed to harbor secrets in its stillness, as if waiting for everything to be steered in an unpredictable direction. If Syrin celebrated opulence in its open, extravagant way, Aidengaard conveyed a more subtle form of luxury¡ªrefined and unspoken. Upon a throne both majestic and formidable sat a young man, crowned with a silver-white diadem. His gaze was forward, indifferent to the bustling life outside the palace walls. Above him, a dragon''s skull loomed, reflecting an untamable power¡ªsymbolizing conquest and dominion. His unwavering eyes locked onto the horizon of Aidengaard, a city aglow with the sparkles of commerce and wealth. This city was not just an economic hub; here, the most critical decisions of the kingdom were made. A young man and a middle-aged man, both bearing an air of significance, entered. The young man, with ash-blond hair, stood beside the throne, his cool gray-blue eyes betraying a quiet resolve. The older man kneeled before the king. Every breath in the throne room was filled with an unsettling silence, as if the words to follow held unimaginable significance. "Everything is proceeding according to the plan we laid out, my brother!" The commanding voice from the Shadow Above the Throne carried undeniable authority, continuing without hesitation. "We will shut down all trade routes in the kingdom. No city will be allowed to buy or sell goods from Syrin. The resources we''ve stockpiled are more than sufficient. We will release raw iron and silver ore at low prices through the royal merchants. Basic goods will only come from the capital." "The negotiations with the Kingdom of Carista have been completed. My brother is betrothed to the Princess of the Celestia Dynasty. The wedding will take place once she turns sixteen," Prince Daemon stated flatly, his words deliberate. "It is time to reveal the truth that cannot be denied. They will understand, without a single word spoken," the prince paused, his voice firm, "When the time comes, we shall do what must be done." Prince Daemon Stormveil, only fifteen years old, possessed a demeanor and decisiveness far beyond his years. "Understood, Your Majesty, Your Highness," Sir Hendrik Ashford, the loyal noble, said in a low voice, bowing in respect. From the entrance of the throne room, the light from the throne was almost imperceptible. Though the king was but a few years older than Daemon, his posture and words were laced with a determined resolve, as though he bore the weight of all things. Prince Daemon, despite still being a young man, displayed an understanding of the situation and a determination just as profound. If the king was the shadow pulling the strings, then the prince could be seen as the darkness that extended that shadow, enveloping the entire kingdom. Who could have known... that the vast lands of Myriel would fall under the rule of these two young rulers?
Morning Bell Newspaper "Is Count Vorden Betraying the King?" Sources reveal that Syrin is preparing to declare independence! Count Vorden stands accused of seizing power through the use of beasts and hoarding metal ores for trade beyond the kingdom¡¯s borders¡­
The streets of Syrin buzzed with conversation as townsfolk unfolded their copies of the Morning Bell. This news was not confined to Syrin alone¡ªit spread like wildfire across Myriel, leaving people questioning their future. "This is huge... Syrin declaring independence?" a young merchant murmured, flipping through the newspaper. "Using beasts to expand his influence... hoarding metal ores for trade¡­ Do you think he¡¯d really do it?" This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. "I don¡¯t know¡­ but this makes it clear that Count Vorden might not just be thinking about developing the city," a young woman replied, concern lacing her voice. Murmurs swelled through the streets, a wave of uncertainty washing over the city. Was Syrin merely a pawn in Count Vorden¡¯s grand design? The grand marketplace, once teeming with life, now lay eerily silent. ¡°We haven¡¯t been able to sell anything outside the city since Count Vorden started planning for independence¡­¡± a young merchant muttered, his voice heavy with tension. ¡°No one will buy my beef,¡± another man grumbled, frustration evident in his tone. ¡°My bread too,¡± a woman chimed in. ¡°And the price of grain keeps rising¡ªI don¡¯t even know who to sell to anymore¡­¡± Murmurs of discontent grew louder. ¡°We¡¯re doomed if this keeps up¡­¡± someone sighed. ¡°What will happen to our goods if we can¡¯t trade beyond the city?¡± another woman asked, her voice laced with worry. Anxiety hung thick in the air, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on them all. As silence took hold once more, they realized¡ªthere were few choices left. Seahorse Grand Port¡ªSyrin¡¯s commercial lifeline¡ªnow lay eerily lifeless. Ivan strode toward the merchant from Carista, his expression dark with frustration. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you buying the silver ore as agreed?¡± The Caristan merchant merely shrugged, his voice calm and indifferent. ¡°I can¡¯t. Aidengaard is selling it for nearly half the price.¡± Ivan clenched his jaw. ¡°But we have a contract.¡± ¡°A contract to buy at this price¡­ not a contract to buy no matter what,¡± the merchant replied coolly before turning away to order his crew to unload their cargo. Once, the port had been alive with the shouts of merchants and travelers. Now, only the wind whispered through the towering masts, their rigging clinking softly in the stillness. Stacks of raw iron and silver ore¡ªonce the lifeblood of Syrin¡¯s economy¡ªnow sat abandoned, worthless in the silence. There were no buyers, no transactions, no movement. This was more than just a slump. It was an economic disaster, slowly eroding Syrin, piece by piece. The town square, once bustling with the laughter and chatter of its people, now lay eerily silent, as if abandoned. The shops that once welcomed customers were now tightly shuttered. Wooden doors were bolted shut, and the curtains that had once billowed gently in the breeze now hung limp, devoid of life. The smiles and laughter that once filled the streets were gone, leaving behind only silence and the faint rustle of the wind. Theo clenched his mother¡¯s hand tightly as they walked along the cobbled streets that had once felt warm but now seemed empty, cold, and hollow. ¡°Mother, why is no one out walking today...?¡± Jessica glanced down at her son, her eyes heavy with sorrow. ¡°There are no more travelers, my dear.¡± She gently guided Theo past the town square¡¯s fountain. The golden seahorse statue, which once sparkled in the sunlight, now appeared dull and tarnished, stripped of the vibrancy it once had, much like the town itself.
¡°What is this!¡± The familiar sound of a fist slamming onto the table reverberated through the room, shaking the very floor. ¡°Casper! What did you tell me about the capital¡¯s shortage of metals?¡± ¡°And yet, what is this!¡± The newspaper was slammed down onto the table with a resounding thud, causing everyone in the room to flinch. Vorden''s face contorted with rage. The room fell into a tense silence, as if everyone knew that speaking at this moment could only make the situation worse. ¡°The news about the shortage of resources was nothing but a lie fabricated by the King¡­¡± Casper¡¯s voice cracked as he struggled to suppress his emotions. ¡°The engagement with the princess was planned in advance. The King knew we would have to sign trade agreements, and they¡¯ve already used this to bind the agreement with conditions. Even if we sell goods at the same price as Aidengaard, Carista will never buy from us.¡± ¡°But, my Lord... Please, calm down. I have prepared a backup plan¡­¡± Casper¡¯s voice quivered slightly, but he still tried to hold it together. ¡°First, we need to correct the news and prevent panic among the people. Write that the Morning Bell''s report is a fabrication." ¡°The Kingdom of Kyros, which has been trading with us for so long, still needs metals and basic goods. If we can sell, even at a lower price, the economy will gradually recover, and we will bounce back.¡± ¡°The middlemen will handle the export of goods as planned. We¡¯ll only need to focus on the prices we require.¡± Casper turned to face Vorden, his voice filled with conviction. ¡°While Aidengaard may be the heart of the economy, we produce more, and we have a backup plan already in place. Regardless, the resources in the capital will run out first.¡± ¡°The throne room is nearly complete. I can hardly wait,¡± Vorden said, his voice dripping with anticipation. ¡°Soon, everything will be mine¡­¡±
¡°My brother, from now on, you need not find anyone else to rule over Syrin.¡± ¡°Whoever sits on that throne, they may seem loyal at first, content with what they have. But as time passes, with Syrin flourishing ever closer to Aidengaard, their ambition will begin to grow. They will desire more power, a hunger for conquest, and eventually, they may rise to declare independence from us once again.¡± The prince¡¯s voice was firm, as if he could already foresee the outcome of a story that had yet to unfold. The king gazed at his younger brother with a silent intensity, as if weighing the meaning behind every word spoken. After a moment, his tone softened, yet it carried an undeniable resolve. ¡°I have thought to send you to govern.¡± Prince Daemon did not hesitate. He responded confidently, his expression unwavering. ¡°I will restore Syrin to its former prosperity. Afterward, I will return it to you.¡± The young king looked at his brother, once a mere child, but now strong and decisive. A faint smile touched the corner of his lips. ¡°But I want you to protect it for me¡­ forever.¡± His voice softened ever so slightly. Prince Daemon nodded, accustomed to leadership, understanding well the importance of maintaining balance. ¡°If that is the case, the people may believe we are dividing our power. They might fall into discord, for Syrin already competes with Aidengaard in terms of prosperity. Those who already hold grudges will only become more divided, making it difficult to govern.¡± He spoke carefully, his voice firm yet softened by the tenderness in his gaze. ¡°After I return Syrin to you, I will take charge of Aidengaard in the meantime, while you must travel between the two.¡± Prince Daemon added, his posture relaxing slightly. The king was silent for a moment, taken aback by his brother¡¯s intellect and determination. He said nothing further, only nodding in silent acknowledgment.
This harbor was so tranquil that hardly any sound could be heard except the gentle lapping of the waves and the occasional calls of seagulls. Despite the absence of bustling crowds inspecting the goods unloaded from the hundreds of merchant ships that came and went, the serene evening atmosphere of Seahorse Grand Port still left an indelible impression. Though trade was in a dark and desperate crisis, a few souls remained, standing to gaze at the sun sinking beneath the horizon. The soft blue sky contrasted with the emerald waters below. Among them were families with children running joyfully, groups of young men and women fishing, and even merchants seated in the small, local bar, known only to the townsfolk, sipping their drinks. In addition to its renowned seafood, Syrin is equally famous for its alcoholic beverages, particularly the "Waltherwitbier," served in frosty pints. This witbier is meticulously brewed in dark oak barrels, infusing it with the fragrant essence of Lilia oranges, a rare variety that can only be cultivated here. Its taste, sweet and velvety, flows effortlessly, making it exceptionally easy to drink. The bar today seemed more lively than usual, with patrons gathered, deep in conversation and sharing their financial woes with a sense of grave concern. "Emil, I need you to help me," Casper said as he lifted his pint to take a sip. "What have you been up to, Cas? Do you have any idea how bad things are right now?" Emil asked, his voice tense, raising his own witbier to drink. "That''s why I¡¯m asking for your help..." Casper implored. "And what could a simple merchant like me possibly do?" Emil sighed softly before placing his pint down on the table. "You¡¯re a local here, Emil. You know every merchant who comes and goes through this port. Your group is nearly as large as the guild itself," Casper asserted confidently. "So what?" Emil¡¯s voice softened. "Syrin will sell its metal ores through you, along with all its basic goods..." Casper said excitedly. "That¡¯s impossible..." Emil quickly interrupted. "I¡¯m not finished yet! You buy the goods here, take them to Kyros, and I¡¯ll offer you a price that will let you profit handsomely," Casper proposed. "Kyros? We¡¯ve been trading with Loom as currency ever since the king helped them out during the financial collapse, along with setting up the Loom currency and the central bank at Aidengaard," Emil said, his tone filled with doubt, pausing to think. "Exactly! You just sell the goods in Kyros, exchange the Loom for Renn at Aidengaard, then come back to buy more goods here and repeat the cycle. I want your group to do this with every item we¡¯re sending out of the city," Casper said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Agreed!" Emil smiled, relaxing. "I¡¯ll call in my friends for help, and we¡¯ll make a fortune." "Not just that!" Casper grinned widely. "If you can lead Syrin through this crisis, people will remember your name... Emil Eisenberg, the trading noble and hero of Syrin." Both raised their pints in a toast, their faces alight with hope.
The sound of the quill scratching against paper nearly matched the rhythm of the movement of people in the room, as the black ink began to dry on sheets containing vital information. Hundreds of desks lined the room, each occupied by individuals engaged in transactions. Merchants haggled over the exchange of gold, noble families discreetly searched for new opportunities, while others scoured for information that could shift the tides of the business world. A thick sheet of parchment sealed with hot wax was carefully placed in the corner of a desk, unnoticed by those around. The scent of fresh ink mingled with the dusty aroma of aged paper, filling the air of the room. Amidst the bustling chaos, a crucial document was retrieved and carefully unfurled, the wax chipped away from the edges with a sharp metal tool. As the paper was unfolded, The name, written in black ink, gleamed under the soft glow of a small candle on the table¡ªEmil Eisenberg. The document was swiftly folded away, without a single word spoken. Every movement was carried out in silence. What did this letter mean? Who was it that sent it here?