Exios carefully picked up one of the picture frames resting on the table.
With a white cloth in hand, he began to wipe away the dust—dust that sparkled visibly under the warm sunlight streaming through the tavern windows. His eyes lingered on the image inside the frame: the faces of his beloved wife and child.
It was the last frame left to clean.
Just as he was about to finish, the tavern's door creaked open.
Creeek.
A knight stood at the entrance, motionless and silent.
"Your Highness," the knight said respectfully, "it's time. The carriage is ready."
Exios gently placed the frame back in its place, sparing a final glance before turning toward the knight. Recognition lit his eyes.
The young man had dark auburn hair, honey-toned skin, and sharp grey eyes.
"Lancaster," Exios said with a soft chuckle. "You've grown well."
He remembered the boy who had once trained relentlessly on the palace grounds.
"What if I refuse?" Exios asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Will you get physical with me?"
Lancaster cleared his throat softly. "Your Majesty has made it clear—you will return to the palace regardless of what you try. He believes you won't resist the order."
He paused, his tone quiet but firm.
"And truthfully… I don't think you will, either."
Exios let out a short laugh. "That's true enough. When did you grow so mature, all of a sudden?"
He set the cloth down beside the picture frames and walked slowly toward Lancaster.
"I've missed you too, Your Highness," Lancaster said with a smile, one filled with warmth and memory.
Exios had once been Lancaster's supervisor. Every day, the boy trained under his harsh guidance. Whether the sun blazed or the rain poured, there were no exceptions. Fifty laps under a storm, sword swings in the scorching heat, standing on one leg for eight hours when exhaustion struck.
Exios had been severe—but never cruel. He simply believed in him. Just as he had believed in all the children under his care.
"You've been doing well, I hope?" Lancaster asked, stepping aside to give Exios room as he approached the doorway.
"I thought I'd never see you again."
Exios reached into his coat and pulled out the tavern key, locking the door behind him with a sharp click.
"I've been alright," he said with a nod. "Serving drinks, bringing out food, day in and day out… it kept me occupied. It kept me alive."
He double-checked the lock before turning back. Lancaster's face had shifted, his smile replaced by a flicker of concern.
He knew. He knew what that place had meant after the tragedy. He had assumed Exios had disappeared for good, lost in grief.
But now—now, something was different.
Exios turned to him with a soft smile, the weight of old sorrow lightening in his expression.
"But you know, something changed."
His voice held quiet resolve.
"Now, I've got new reasons to keep going. Not just the tavern anymore… but the truth. The answers. Why it all happened."
A pause, then his gaze softened.
"And… a little girl I took care of for a while."
"You mean that child?" Lancaster recalled the image of a young girl with long, black hair.
"Yes," Exios replied, his tone distant, almost nostalgic. "She brought some life into the tavern. Brought life back into me, too—though I didn't even realize it at the time."
He let out a light laugh.
"I was cleaning those picture frames earlier, remembering the smiles of my wife and child… and then hers came to mind too. That rare little smile of hers. She didn't do it often, but it was fun teasing her."
Lancaster remained silent, words caught somewhere between understanding and surprise.
He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected Exios to still be standing—let alone living again.
"It's good to see you like this, Your Highness," Lancaster said sincerely.
Because for him, nothing else mattered more than seeing Exios return to himself.
Exios tilted his head, grinning. "What about you, kid? You've been doing well?"
"Oh, yes," Lancaster replied, his grin matching Exios's. "But ever since you left, I've missed those brutal training sessions."
Exios raised a brow. "Have you now? Well, since I'm back, how about we start again with… hmm… 150 laps around the field?"
"I regret saying anything." Lancaster groaned, just as Exios ruffled his hair.
"Look at you," Exios chuckled, "you've become a man."
His tone shifted playfully. "Found yourself a lover yet?"
Lancaster looked away, scratching the back of his neck. "Unfortunately… no. Not yet."
Exios narrowed his eyes. "And what exactly does 'not yet' mean?"
"It means I'm waiting," Lancaster admitted, his voice lowering. "Waiting until… she acknowledges me."
He covered his mouth, a bit too late to hide the small smile tugging at his lips.
"Oh? So you're interested in someone!" Exios nudged his shoulder with a laugh. "Who is this mystery lady? Anyone from the royal family? I can help out, you know."
Lancaster turned red as Exios gave him a hearty pat on the back, making him stumble slightly.
"Well… it's a complicated situation. I've only met her twice—once at a ceremony, once at a birthday."
Exios raised an eyebrow. "So, someone who doesn't visit the palace often, huh? Who is it?"
Lancaster hesitated for a moment, then murmured:
"…Talthea Altantsetseg."
"Talthea who? Al—Altant… what?" Exios blinked, trying to piece the name together.
"Wait… she's not part of the Achlys line?"
"No," Lancaster replied quietly, avoiding his eyes.
"Then… she's not a noble? But that surname… it sounds familiar. And exotic."
"She's not a noble," Lancaster said, voice barely above a whisper. "She's… a princess."
Exios paused mid-step.
"…Alright. But if she's not from our family line, then that means—" His expression shifted. "Oh."
His brow furrowed as the name finally clicked.
He exhaled sharply, closing his eyes.
"Why on earth would you fall for a girl from another Empire?" he muttered. "You idiot… she's from the Akeotretus Empire."
With that, Exios began walking toward the carriage, shaking his head.
Lancaster stood frozen in place, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, before he quickly rushed to catch up.
"I mean, you had your chances with the young ladies in this Empire—even with the aristocrats," Exios said, throwing Lancaster a teasing glance. "And yet, you fell for someone from an entirely different Empire?"
He scoffed and shook his head.
"As if that wasn't enough… a princess. Daughter of the emperor, no less. You do realize the odds are astronomically low, right? Yeah, good luck with that. You don't stand a chance!"
He burst into laughter.
"I know," Lancaster muttered. "But… there's just something about her."
"Of course there is," Exios replied, still grinning. "She's a princess. I can't even imagine how charming she must be. Their culture, their traditions—completely different from ours. I guess your taste in women is… unique."
He tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Can't say I've heard of something like this since I was born."
"Maybe," Lancaster said with a quiet breath. "But when I met her for the second time... I don't know. Something shifted. It was like time slowed around her, and she was all I could see."
He let out a long sigh.
He's in love, Exios thought, shaking his head slowly with a smirk.
"Well, as I said, kid—good luck."
As Exios reached for the carriage handle, a sudden thud echoed from inside.
Thump!
"Oh… right," Lancaster said, face paling slightly. "I forgot—"
Before he could finish, Exios swung the door open—and there she was.
Crimson, tied from head to toe in shimmering magical rope, her expression absolutely murderous.
"We had to detain her," Lancaster said quickly. "But she was too aggressive. That's why… well, you see the result."
Exios stepped up into the carriage, barely suppressing a laugh. "I'm actually glad you did that. You can't underestimate this beast."
At the sound of his voice, Crimson immediately stopped struggling. Her head snapped toward him with a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
"Did you silence her too?" Exios asked casually.
"We had to," Lancaster replied, sighing. "She kept yelling. It was… stressful."
Exios let out a small, amused laugh, mocking Crimson with a grin.
"You can let her speak now. Remove all the spells. She'll behave… now that she's seen me."
He sat across from her, arms folded with confidence.
With a quick gesture of his hand, Lancaster dispelled the enchantments. The ropes loosened and dimmed, fading out as Crimson sat up, brushing off her clothes and adjusting her hair.
Her eyes narrowed.
"You piece of shit. Where have you been?" she barked, voice filled with fury.
"What a way to greet someone," Exios replied, still smiling. "Keep that up, and I might just mute you again."
Lancaster quietly closed the carriage door, leaving them alone.
"Ugh. You have no idea what I've been through, asshole," Crimson groaned, rubbing the back of her head where a fresh bump was forming.
"Well, you got out safely, didn't you?" Exios said with a tilt of his head. "And I'm guessing you took out a few of Lancaster's knights, too—he looked a bit… rattled when he talked about you."
Crimson gave him a sharp grin.
"Oh, not just that. Some bastard tried to get clever. He got me, for a moment—I was out of control—but his methods weren't perfect. Thanks to that flaw, I was able to take him down."
Exios leaned forward slightly.
"And who was the poor fool who thought he could outsmart you?"
She smirked. "Clarkson. My dear twin brother."
Exios raised an eyebrow. "Really now? And what did he do to you?"
"Somehow, he managed to get access to a deity's power," she said, touching the bump on her head again. "You know how rare that is. Especially someone like him. But somehow… he pulled it off."
Exios's expression darkened slightly. "That's no small feat. Your blood is sacred—but Clarkson?"
"Oh, he managed to reach my level," she said, then quickly corrected herself. "Almost. Not exactly."
"Mhm," Exios hummed, arms crossed. "He must've trained and studied for years to achieve that. Still wasn't enough to bring you down, though."
"I underestimated him. Honestly, I thought I could've taken him out with a damn stick."
Exios chuckled. "So? What power did he receive? Which deity did he align with?"
Crimson dropped her hand and grinned like a fox who'd just eaten the hen.
"He hypnotized me," she said, holding out her palm, as if offering the memory.
Exios narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Hypnosis? Hmm… Could be Hishna, Persephone, Dionysus. But the obvious one would be Hypnos. Then again, there's always the darker ones—Yaoguai."
Crimson looked very proud of herself as her grin stretched even wider.
"Maybe," she said cryptically. "But my guess? Medusa."
Exios's eyes widened slightly.
"Ah. So… you looked into his eyes."
Crimson nodded with pride. "That idiot wouldn't shut up about how he hypnotized me—through eye contact. Didn't even think twice before bragging. Gave away the whole damn trick."
She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed.
"Such a show-off. Got too ahead of himself."
"You were like that too," Exios said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Still are, actually."
Crimson was about to snap back when her eyes suddenly widened. She jolted upright, remembering something urgent.
"Wait—what happened to that kid?"
Her voice was sharp with concern.
"I completely forgot about her because of that idiot of a brother—"
"She's fine," Exios said quickly. "She's at the palace now."
Crimson's brows furrowed hard.
"'She's fine'? That's all you have to say?" she snapped. "Then why the hell did I risk my life defending her? Why did I stay by her side while you were gone?"
"If it was all going to turn out like this, I'd have handed her over to the knights myself."
"I knew my brother would take her to safety," Exios replied calmly. "But I also considered the risk of outsiders… even traitors. That's why I needed you with her."
He leaned back against the seat.
"My original plan was to lure out the outsiders. But my brother beat me to it. So… the mission failed successfully."
Crimson blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
'She stared at him like he had grown a second head.
Did he just say 'failed successfully'?'
She replayed his words over and over in her mind, the implications hitting her hard.
'Wait. Was the girl… bait?
And was i the sacrifice?'
"So… I was the sacrifice, and the kid was the bait?" Crimson asked sharply, her tone coated in disbelief. "Just so you could see if any outsiders or traitors would go after her?"
"Precisely," Exios answered without hesitation.
"If the outsiders had moved faster than my brother's troops, I could've captured them, questioned them about what they know concerning the child. On the other hand, you would've been fine."
He glanced at her with a smirk.
"I mean, come on, Crimson. You're a beast. You could've handled them on your own. Although…" he chuckled lightly, "that incident with your brother is making me question your strength—and flexibility."
Crimson scoffed, rolling her eyes at his mockery, while Exios leaned back, clearly enjoying the carriage ride.
"And why are they dragging me into this?" she snapped. "I've got nothing to do with any of this anymore. Might as well let me go home, no?"
"My brother won't allow it. We both need to answer questions about the child," Exios said, his voice calm but unyielding. "So you'll be stuck with me for a while. Enjoy the palace's luxury while you can."
He flashed her that usual infuriating smile.
"Meh," Crimson muttered with a shrug, "as long as they give me a nice cozy room and feed me well, I don't care. But I don't think I'm much help—I don't know anything about the kid."
"Just tell them the truth. That's all you need to do."
"All righties," she sighed. "Can't wait to feel a soft bed."
She turned toward the window and pressed her head against the wooden frame of the carriage, eyes shut tight, forcing herself to sleep. Exios, however, kept looking at her.
Her brow twitched.
"What is it now?" she muttered in annoyance, eyes still closed.
"Did you enjoy your time with the kid?" Exios asked casually.
Crimson's eyes flicked open, turning toward him sharply.
"What's that supposed to mean? Of course not."
"I think you did," he replied smoothly. "Maybe… you felt a little warmth from her?"
She opened her mouth to respond but hesitated—just for a moment. The words caught in her throat. That brief pause was more than enough.
Exios smirked knowingly.
Crimson scoffed again and shifted in her seat.
"You know what? I'm going back to sleep. Don't bother me again until we reach the palace."
"Yeah, yeah. Rest well," he said, smiling as he turned to the small window beside him.
Outside, the tavern was now far behind them.
---
The carriage finally arrived at its destination.
Exios gently nudged Crimson awake. She stirred, wiping away the drool from the side of her mouth with the back of her hand.
They both stepped out, greeted by the cool evening air. Lancaster was already waiting near the gates, arms behind his back, posture straight.
"Welcome back, Your Highness," he said politely, then turned his attention to Crimson. "And welcome to the Imperial Palace of the Ephamour Empire, Lady…"
"Crimson," she replied with a grunt as she stretched her arms overhead, her joints popping slightly from the long ride.
"You'll be escorted to your quarters shortly. It's late, so the questioning will take place tomorrow afternoon," Lancaster informed them. "I hope your stay here is… comfortable. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to."
He offered a courteous bow before stepping aside.
Exios gave a small nod in response. Two guards began leading the way, their armor softly clinking with each step.
Exios and Crimson followed them in silence. As they passed through the gates, Crimson gave Lancaster a brief glance over her shoulder.
He hadn't moved.
'Didn't he say he had something to do?' she thought, slightly puzzled.
Once they were far enough down the path, Lancaster remained rooted in place, eyes locked on the gravel road, as if waiting for something.
Moments later, the rhythmic sound of approaching hooves echoed through the courtyard.
Another carriage pulled up in front of the gate.
It came to a slow halt, and Lancaster waited patiently for the door to open from within.
A red-haired man stepped out with a confident smirk.
"Ah, how nice of you—waiting so patiently for me," Clarkson said as he descended from the carriage.
"Clarkson Ardit," Lancaster addressed him firmly. "His Highness, Prince Denver, has requested your presence. Follow me. That's an order."
Clarkson gave a half-hearted shrug. "Yeah, okay," he replied sarcastically.
They veered off down a separate path leading to another section of the palace grounds.
For a while, the only sound between them was the crunch of gravel beneath their boots.
Eventually, Clarkson broke the silence.
"I still don't get what I did wrong," he said, frustration lacing his words. "I took care of one of the problems, and His Highness got the child safely."
"It's what you did afterwards," Lancaster replied, his tone stiff. "You tried to protect your sister."
Clarkson scoffed. "No. She simply wasn't necessary for the operation."
"She was necessary," Lancaster shot back. "His Highness made it clear—bring every accomplice tied to the child. It looked like you deliberately tried to keep her out of it. She's your sister, after all."
Clarkson rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh.
"That wasn't the plan. I wanted to take her down myself, but somehow she slipped through my fingers."
He offered a crooked, irritated smile.
"So it was your decision to go rogue," Lancaster said, clearly displeased. "You acted on your own."
"Did it matter?" Clarkson muttered. "In the end, you got both the child and my sister. So the plan still worked."
"It would've been a problem if things had turned into a disaster," Lancaster replied sharply. "We only found you because of the chaos. Your sister beat you down. The noise led us right to you. Otherwise, we wouldn't have known your location—or hers."
At that, Clarkson clenched his jaw, rage simmering behind his eyes.
"She almost beat me down," he snapped. "Get it right. Almost."
"Oh really?" Lancaster's tone remained calm, yet cold. "She broke free from your hypnotic magic in just eight minutes, then launched herself at you. Pinned you to the ground. You couldn't even move a finger."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"Fortunately, locals witnessed everything and ran to alert us. Lucky for you—we're knights. Soldiers sworn to protect the Empire."
Clarkson said nothing. His scowl deepened as the truth stung sharper than any blade.
He fell into silence, walking alongside Lancaster down the noisy gravel path.
But Clarkson wasn't paying attention to him.
He was trapped in his thoughts—replaying over and over the moment Crimson shattered his magic. The way she looked at him.
---
Two identical twins walked quietly through the line of shops, moving along the dirt path that twisted between market stalls and curious onlookers.
They didn't walk side by side—but neither were they far apart.
Crimson was ahead, keeping her pace steady, while Clarkson trailed behind, watching her like a hawk. His gaze never faltered.
It had only been a few minutes since he cast his hypnosis on her, but to Clarkson, time didn't matter.
As long as he didn't break the spell, she would remain under his control.
Or so he thought.
They walked slowly, the earth dry and cracked beneath their boots. Clarkson's thoughts drifted toward the operation—how it had started, and more importantly, how it was beginning to spiral out of his control.
Taking Crimson from the tavern hadn't been part of the original plan.
But neither was going in alone.
'I don't give a damn if they want to scold me for it.'
He kept walking, eyes fixed ahead—but suddenly realized something wasn't right.
Crimson had stopped.
She stood still for a breath, then—vanished.
In a blink, she was gone from his sight.
"What the fuck?" Clarkson muttered, startled. He spun around, eyes darting through the crowd, searching.
Then—
A furious scream cracked through the air above him.
He looked up.
Crimson was plummeting from the roof of one of the buildings, eyes wide, mouth curled into a snarl.
"Motherfucker!"
She crashed down onto him like a falling boulder.
BAM!
They hit the ground hard, Crimson landing on top of him with her body pinning his to the dirt.
She immediately twisted his arms, locking them in place with her own. Her weight pressed down, keeping him immobile. Clarkson winced under the pressure.
"I told you to go fuck yourself, didn't I?" she spat, eyes burning. "All that talk—same level this, I've got nothing that, blah blah blah."
She leaned in closer, her voice low and seething.
"Me? Having nothing? Don't make me laugh."
A crowd began to gather, startled villagers gawking at the scene unfolding before them. Some gasped, some murmured in confusion. A few began running—calling for the guards.
Crimson didn't care.
"I admit, I thought you were still the dumb knight you used to be. Figured I'd go easy on you," she hissed, hair falling into her face. "You caught me by surprise. Good job. Really."
She smirked. "But that's the only good thing you managed."
She blew a loose strand of hair from her eyes with exaggerated drama, grinning down at her brother.
It didn't take long for the knight guards to arrive, breaking through the crowd as they tried to take control of the situation.
Lancaster appeared behind them, pushing forward with an expression that was equal parts exhausted and unamused.
---
"Fuck," Clarkson cursed under his breath, snapping back to the present.
"Language," Lancaster muttered with a sigh.
"You," Clarkson said sharply, both hands dragging down his face in frustration.
"You too," Lancaster replied dryly, utterly done with both siblings. "Gods above… how can the two of you be so identical and still so exhausting?"
---
Far away, within the quiet shadows of his chamber, Prince Denver sat in his office.
The room, dimly lit and laced with the scent of herbs, was designed to calm the mind—to bring peace and clarity.
But Denver felt neither.
He sifted through a thick stack of letters, flipping each page with growing irritation.
His violet eyes scanned the final paragraph once again:
'The strange monstrosities have yet to cause damage within the Empire or its villages.
They linger in the shadows near the forest that borders the Imperial Palace of the Everereal Empire.
Their behavior remains unchanged—still, silent, ever-watchful. They stare endlessly at the Palace, yet make no move.
We do not know if they can see us… or simply do not care to.
We maintain our distance, careful not to alert them.
Whether they are preparing for an attack or simply observing, we cannot be certain.
Strangely, the Empire's knights remain unaware of their presence, despite their proximity.
That is all we can provide for now, Apothecary.
Our next report will be delivered within a month.
Sincerely,
Owls.'
Denver laid the letters neatly on his desk.
He removed his monocle, exhaling deeply.
"You've done well," he murmured, even if disappointment lingered in his voice. They still knew so little about these… anomalies.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling where the chandelier hung unlit—its intricate silver arms reaching like frozen branches.
'She arrived at this palace the same day those creatures were sighted in Everereal…'
Could it really be coincidence?
"Could she have created them?" he whispered aloud.
'Maybe she tried to run… summoned something—then ended up here…'
But the distance between the two Empires made that nearly impossible.
Still, something wasn't right. Something didn't add up.
"She's connected to them. Somehow," he muttered, tapping the desk. "But how could a child—a little girl—hold such mana? Such unfathomable energy?"
He stood from his chair, pacing slowly, brows furrowed.
"What is she…?"
He glanced again at the chandelier, the shadows casting across the floor like creeping vines.
"If only I could see her core…"
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the butler's voice, echoing from behind the heavy doors of his chamber.
"Prince Denver Achlys, of the Empire of Ephamour—Imperial Knights Lancaster Farrimond and Clarkson Ardit have arrived."
The grand double doors began to creak open, letting in a soft, warm orange light that flooded the dark room.
Two figures stepped into the glow, their outlines sharp and unmistakable.