"Emperor Hadeon Achlys, of the Empire of Ephamour.
Prince Exios…" The royal knight's voice trailed off.
They stood before a massive, ornate door—crafted like crystal glass, shimmering with all the colors of the spectrum. Light danced across its surface, shifting with every movement, as if it were alive.
The knight glanced at Exios, hesitation in his eyes. Eventually, he gathered the courage to ask.
"Your Highness… forgive me for my impudence, but—how should I address you?"
Without looking away from the door, Exios answered, calm and resolute.
"Einar."
The knight gave a small nod "Prince Exios Einar of the Empire of Ephamour has returned!" He announced loudly.
With a resonating hum, the massive doors parted, revealing a long ceremonial hall bathed in opulence.
The space was colossal, with towering pillars shaped as divine statues, each one depicting a god from ancient lore. Gold-trimmed decorations lined the marble walls, and crystal chandeliers bathed the room in warm, radiant light. Stained-glass windows painted stories ran along both sides, casting vibrant colors across the polished floors.
Exios stepped forward, his boots brushing the long violet carpet that led toward the throne at the end of the hall. There, seated in regal ease, was the Emperor himself.
Hadeon Achlys wore light, flowing garments that shimmered like woven light, but it was the anticipation on his face that stood out most. His violet eyes gleamed with joy at the sight of his younger brother.
Exios stood at a distance—close enough to see, close enough to hear—but his demeanor remained unreadable. He offered a brief bow.
There was no joy in his eyes. No warmth in his expression.
The two brothers faced each other—blood-bound, yet so visibly different.
Hadeon's skin was a deep, rich black, glowing under the hall's warm light. His long white braids hung over his shoulders, adorned with silver beads. His lavender eyes glittered like crystal amethysts, and even in his excitement, they held the wisdom of an emperor.
"Exios! Brother, you've finally come back!" Hadeon called out with a laugh, accidentally spilling some wine from the goblet in his hand.
Exios met his gaze silently.
"Come on, aren't you even a little happy to see me? I missed you," Hadeon said, smiling genuinely.
They had always shared a bond—brothers born of different mothers, yet raised with mutual trust and deep respect. Half-brothers by birth, loyal allies by choice. There had never been rivalry for the throne. Both knew their place, both accepted the roles they were destined to play.
Hadeon, despite being born to a mother often scorned for the color of her skin, had risen to take the throne. Exios had been appointed the Empire's royal knight—the commander of all Imperial Knights.
Hadeon would rule. Exios would protect.
But Hadeon could already sense it.
This wasn't just a reunion.
"Yes, I'll tell you now," Hadeon said, setting the goblet down and walking slowly down the steps toward him. "Though... I did hope you'd say you missed me too."
"You told me to return if it was about... the death of my family," Exios said calmly, his tone darker. "Is that really why I'm here? Or was it just bait to bring me back?"
His words carried weight.
Hadeon's smile faltered. "Brother... I would never lie to you about that."
He paused, then continued. "We've uncovered something. A secret organization. We believe it's tied to what happened three years ago. We're not sure why yet, but... if we act now, we might finally uncover the truth."
Exios said nothing. His silence wasn't passive—it was calculating.
"How do you know they're the ones who killed my wife and child?" His voice was cold. Sharp.
Hadeon exhaled quietly. That question cut deeper than he expected.
"We've noticed a pattern. Not just in Ephamour, but in other Empires too. In every case... the parents were killed. The children vanished. And the ages all match. They were around Laith's age."
"What?" Exios's voice shifted, touched by something raw.
"Exactly," Hadeon said. "You were right all along. It wasn't an accident. These bastards have been doing this for years."
He hesitated, choosing his next words carefully.
"And... there's a possibility that Laith is still alive."
Exios locked eyes with him. "What are you trying to say?"
"We don't have solid proof yet," Hadeon admitted, "but if none of the children's bodies were found, then maybe... they're not dead. Maybe they're being kept alive."
He let out a slow breath after the words left his mouth.
A long silence followed.
"I want you to join the operation," Hadeon said. "Help us uncover the truth—not just behind the disappearances, but behind your family's fate. This might be your only chance to finally get answers."
Exios's eyes narrowed, as if the floor itself could offer clarity.
"Is that really your reason? Or do you need someone like me to pull this off? I know this isn't just about my family. This is bigger. It's about the Empire, isn't it?"
Hadeon flinched, looked almost hurt.
He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Brother... I've been looking into your case for three years. Because I couldn't stand watching you fall apart. Maybe it doesn't seem like it, but I do care."
He stopped for a beat.
"But the deeper I went, the more I realized this was part of something far more dangerous. It's not just about Ephamour."
He hesitated, then continued, voice quieter.
"And... it's not just about death and disappearance anymore."
Exios frowned. "What do you mean?"
"There've been strange reports," Hadeon said. "Unnatural ones."
He searched for the right word.
"Anomalies."
Exios blinked. "Anomalies? You'll need to explain that."
"Yeah, uh... there've been sightings of things—things hiding in the shadows. Dead creatures... coming back. Twisted, monstrous things. I don't even know how to describe it, but it's terrifying. If it spreads, it could become a real threat to the Empire."
Exios was silent for a moment, processing.
"Have there been any sightings here?"
"No. Not in Ephamour. But there have been several in the Everereal Empire."
"What?" Exios's voice grew sharper. "You even sent spies into Everereal?"
"I had no choice," Hadeon said plainly. "That's where the trail leads. The answers might be there, in that place. I told you—it's not just our Empire anymore."
Exios tried to piece everything together. But it was too much at once. Too sudden. Too strange.
"When did all of this start?" he finally asked. "If not three years ago... when did these anomalies first appear?"
Hadeon met his eyes, steady and unwavering.
"A few weeks ago," he said. "To be exact—the day you found that little girl."
The moment the words left his mouth, a high-pitched ringing erupted in Exios's ears. A vivid red glow flared across his vision, drawing him back toward the door.
His body tensed.
Something was wrong.
"You..." he muttered, realization dawning. His gaze locked on Hadeon.
"You brought me here... so you could take the child."
Hadeon didn't deny it.
"Brother, I need to examine her," he said, returning to his calm, political tone. "If you were there, emotions would've clouded your judgment. At least now you know what's really happening. That's more important, isn't it? It's about your family."
He turned and began walking back toward his throne.
Exios stood there, unmoving, watching him carefully.
"So," Hadeon quietly said, "you know."
"What? That child being special?"
Exios's voice held a restrained intensity.
"Yes. She's the cause behind the blooming of the purple spider lilies in the palace. Their sudden appearance left behind an overwhelming trace of mana and energy—something no child her age, or any child at all, should be able to generate."
Hadeon listened, eyebrows raised in quiet intrigue, as Exios continued.
"How impressive is that?"
A brief pause.
"You wouldn't be able to see her core," Exios added, narrowing his eyes.
"Is that so?" Hadeon replied with a smirk.
"I've tried. Many times already."
Exios's tone sharpened. "But guess what? All I could sense was the energy radiating from her. The core itself—it's protected. Fortified. Hidden away. Either she knows what she's carrying, or you'll have to dig for answers yourself. And trust me, unraveling that mystery will be a lot more work than you think."
He turned away and strode toward the massive, crystal-like doors ahead. A faint, glowing red line shimmered in front of him as he approached.
As Exios exited, Hadeon stood still, watching his brother disappear into the light.
He let out a slow, troubled sigh.
---
Exios emerged from the palace, guards bowing in silent respect as he passed. His pace didn't falter.
He approached the carriage waiting outside—but instead of climbing in, he moved toward the horse tethered at its front. With a smooth motion, he mounted it.
His right hand morphed instantly, transforming into a sleek, steel blade that extended from his arm. It gleamed in the sun—sharp, lethal, and cleanly forged.
With one precise swing, he sliced through the ropes binding the horse to the carriage. The instant the last tether snapped, the blade melted back into his arm, returning to flesh.
Without wasting a second, Exios galloped away—his thoughts already racing faster than the horse beneath him.
So much had been said. So many truths left tangled.
Questions tangled and twisted within him like thorns.
His family's death, somehow tied to another Empire.
Strangers cloaked in secrecy. Anomalies. His brother's cryptic words.
And that child—somehow central to it all.
'What's inside her core?
What kind of power could she be hiding?'
But through the whirlwind in his mind, one thought refused to fade:
That day. Three years ago.
The storm of questions was silenced by a single, recurring scene.
It played on repeat.
'Not now.' he thought bitterly.
But the memory wouldn't stop.
"Forward!" Exios roared, pacing in front of the sweat-drenched soldiers.
The sun bore down on the training field.
Each of them was near collapse, muscles trembling after the relentless drills imposed by the Imperial Commander himself.
Exios's eyes were sharp, merciless. None of the men dared to look directly at him.
"More strength!" he shouted.
"Do I need to remind you that most of you haven't even awakened your mana yet? Until that day comes, your strength is all you've got. No excuses. Train harder—or I'll send you home."
Grunts filled the air as the soldiers gripped their wooden swords and resumed training with renewed, desperate effort. The air was thick with heat, breath, and tension.
Exios stood like stone—unmoving, unreadable. His gaze scanned every movement, watching for weakness.
Suddenly, a knight came running toward him, armor clinking, breath ragged.
Exios noticed the knight's trembling stance and waited silently.
"Your Highness…" the knight said, chest heaving. "I—I'm sorry to interrupt, but…"
He swallowed hard, voice unsteady.
"Something happened to His Highness's wife."
He dropped his gaze to the ground. Couldn't meet Exios's eyes.
That was all Exios needed to hear.
Without a word, he stormed past the knight—so fast, the man staggered backward.
Exios tore through the palace like a force of nature, armor echoing off the stone halls. Maids, butlers, and knights scrambled out of the way. He didn't see any of them.
He didn't hear a thing. Everything was muffled—muted—except for one memory that surged to the surface:
That morning.
The last time he saw them.
Breakfast together. Smiles. Plans for the day.
He'd kissed them both—his wife and his daughter—on the forehead before leaving them at the tavern.
Just another day.
What could've possibly gone wrong?
He burst through the palace doors, eyes darting.
"Where the fuck are the horses?!" he yelled, his voice raw and urgent.
Nothing. No horse in sight.
"Fuck it!"
Without waiting, he started running—full speed down the gravel path, away from the palace.
'Please be okay. Please.
The knight must've overstated it. Maybe it wasn't serious. Maybe—'
Hoofbeats.
A carriage approached from the other direction.
He didn't stop.
Charging toward it, he timed his leap and landed perfectly atop one of the horses.
"W-What are you doing?!" the coachman shouted in terror, trying to rein in the animals.
Exios ignored him. His hand transformed again into steel, slicing cleanly through the rope connecting the horse to the carriage.
He galloped forward, not looking back.
The blade melted into skin once more.
His mind stayed locked on his family.
He hadn't let the knight finish on purpose.
He didn't want words. He needed to see for himself.
"Hiya!" he shouted, pushing the horse to its limit.
At last, the tavern appeared.
Passersby stopped and stared, intrigued by the royal armor on the horse, whispering amongst themselves.
Exios dismounted, landing with force.
Then... he paused.
Three years ago, he hadn't hesitated.
But now—he stood still, staring at the door.
His heart pounded. His breath caught.
Slowly, he exhaled. Walked forward.
He reached for the door. His hand trembled as it gripped the handle.
Click.
-----
The doorknob turned with a soft click, and the door creaked open slowly—
letting a faint shaft of light spill into the tavern drowned in shadows.
But instead of the familiar warm, honey-brown hue of the wooden floor,
what Exios saw was red.
A deep, glistening red that soaked the ground like spilled wine.
Right there—
In the center of it all—
Lay his wife.
Lifeless.
The sight stopped his breath.
His mind—blank.
He stared, unmoving. Stared at the still form of the woman he loved.
He stepped inside.
One foot forward—
Then stopped.
A cold wetness touched the sole of his boot.
He looked down.
Blood.
He stared at the red beneath him, unmoving.
He didn't want to believe it.
'What is this… blood?'
That was the only thought echoing through his mind.
But even then, he didn't panic.
Instead, he looked back at her. At Lea.
And moved.
Slow, deliberate steps carried him closer until he was finally beside her.
He dropped to his knees.
His hands reached out, trembling as they brushed through her caramel-colored waves.
Fingers tracing her cheek.
A gentle caress, as if his touch could somehow bring warmth back to her skin.
Then, with aching care, he pulled her into his arms—
Cradling her against his chest.
She didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Her eyes were wide open.
But they were empty.
"Lea…"
His voice was barely a whisper—gentle, like he might wake her up with softness.
Or maybe he was trying to wake himself up instead.
"Hey, baby…"
His words cracked.
Tears welled in his eyes, clinging stubbornly to the edges before spilling down his cheeks.
"Lea… my love…"
The last word broke him.
Tears fell, one after another, splashing onto her still, unblinking face.
He leaned in.
Their foreheads touched.
And in that moment—
Exios shattered.
There would be no waking up to her soothing voice.
No gentle hands shaking him, telling him it was all just a bad dream.
No.
This wasn't a dream.
It was real.
A nightmare wearing the face of reality.
As Exios expected, the tavern was empty.
They had taken Liliana.
He knew it. But he needed to see it for himself.
To be certain.
To hold on to whatever sliver of hope still lingered—that Liliana and Crimson were okay.
But stepping into the tavern again…
The silence…
The stillness…
It was all too familiar.
It dragged him back to that day.
That moment.
That wound that never really healed.
Only this time, there was no blood.
No body lying cold on the floor.
But the ache in his chest felt just the same.