The night deepened.
Howls of stray dogs echoed through the shadowed alleys of Kranel, where dying lamps flickered like the last thoughts of forgotten men.
Kieran Zon walked alone....his coat dragging the dust, his boots whispering secrets to the stones.
Memories clung to him like cobwebs, thin and tenacious.
Above, the moon lay veiled behind brooding clouds, casting the city in a cold, funereal glow.
The cries of slaves drifted through the still air....thin, hollow, already broken.
No one listened. Not their masters. Not the city. Not the world.
This was the cruelty of reality....merciless, static, and worst of all... ignored.
And Zon?
He walked past.
Just like everyone else.
But his mind was not at ease. It had returned, unbidden, to the first case of his career.
A murder.
Simple on paper.
The suspect: Veythor.
Back then, a nobody. A low-ranking officer with no power, no pull.
Zon, fresh with ambition, had thought he'd solve it in days.
But the deeper he went, the more it unraveled.
Answers bred more questions. Leads ended in fog.
And always....at the eye of the storm....Veythor.
Untouchable. Unknowable. Unbroken.
Zon had failed. Publicly.
The taste of that humiliation never left him.
He clenched his jaw.
"This time… I'll solve it. No matter the cost. And I'll prove Veythor is the killer."
He arrived at Safhire's mansion....a monstrous estate glazed in sickly green, its golden-crowned pillars glowing faintly in the lantern light.
Dozens of soldiers patrolled the grounds.
Of course they did.
This was the home of Narzan's Prime Minister.
Inside, Safhire sat in the grand hall, lips curled in satisfaction.
Everything was going exactly as he had planned.
He had already sent Daniya away, escorted by a loyal soldier.....hidden and silenced.
Soon, he would accuse Veythor of her disappearance.
And in time?
He'd force Veythor to marry her.
The trap was nearly perfect.
A knock at the door.
A soldier stepped in.
"My lord, Detective Zon has arrived. Shall I let him in?"
Safhire adjusted his face like an actor prepping for curtain call.
"Yes. Do."
The mask he wore now? One of grief and rage.
A performance fit for a grieving father.
Zon entered. His boots struck the marble floor like a metronome of judgment.
He sat beside Safhire, his gaze sharp as a scalpel.
"Mr. Consula, have you discovered any clues about your daughter's disappearance?"
"No," Safhire said curtly, feigning irritation.
"When was the last time you saw her?"
"At the end of the party. We were heading to the carriage."
"Are you certain?" Zon's voice was fast, sharp....cutting.
Zeshiya entered just then, already briefed on the lie.
Safhire replied, slightly offended,
"Yes, I'm certain. Why? Are you accusing me of staging this?"
"Don't misunderstand, Mr. Consula," Zon's voice softened a note.
"But the truth is often buried in the details. Even the smallest thread can unravel the whole."
Safhire sighed and dropped his head, playing his role to perfection.
"Detective… please find my daughter. She's all I have. Without her…"
His voice cracked. "…I'm nothing."
Zeshiya's tears followed like clockwork.
What a talented pair of liars.
Zon narrowed his eyes.
"If you're holding anything back, if you're hiding even a grain of truth....then I will find it. I always do."
His words sliced through the room like a drawn blade.
Safhire slowly looked up, tears glistening but never falling.
"Of course, Detective. You have our full cooperation."
Zon didn't believe a word.
"I'll need access to Daniya's chambers. A full list of all servants present that night. Names, duties, locations."
Safhire nodded, gesturing to a nearby soldier who vanished into the shadows.
Zeshiya spoke next, voice quivering.
"Daniya was always sweet. Never caused trouble. A little naïve… but kind."
Zon turned his cold gaze on her.
"Sweetness is no shield. Not in Narzan."
Silence stretched, taut and uneasy.
Then softly, he added,
"If she's alive—I'll find her."
He stood, his coat flaring as he strode toward the staircase.
Safhire watched him go, fingers steepled under his chin.
"Do you think he suspects?" Zeshiya whispered.
"No," Safhire murmured, a sly smile blooming. "But he will. And when he does....he'll either join us... or vanish."
Upstairs, Daniya's chamber awaited.
Too clean.
Too untouched.
No signs of struggle. No signs of departure.
Just the faint perfume of jasmine....and silence.
Zon's eyes scanned the vanity, the desk, the window carved like a serpent's fang.
And then… he saw it.
A single sheet of yellowed paper.
Frayed edges. Dustless.
It hadn't been there before.
Zon stepped forward. His fingers brushed its brittle surface.
Safhire, now beside him, raised an eyebrow.
"That wasn't there a moment ago…"
The ink was red too red.
The words carved like wounds:
"The liar shall be trapped by a greater liar.
The price of a single lie....must be paid with everything."
Zon's heart skipped.
A chill, sharp and sudden, ran down his spine.
He turned the paper toward Safhire.
"What is this?" he asked. "Why was it on your daughter's desk?"
Safhire snatched it.
He read.
Once.
Twice.
Hands trembling.
Sweat forming.
Then he screamed.
"Whaaaaaat!? How?! This... this can't be—!"
His voice tore through the room like glass shattering.
His mind spun.
How? How the fuck is this possible?!
He thought fast. Too fast.
No….Veythor is under house arrest. Then who placed this? Is someone else playing?
If so… I need to get Daniya back. Immediately. Before someone else finds her.
But first… Zon had to leave.
"Detective," Safhire said suddenly, his voice tight, forced.
"There's nothing more to find here. You should investigate elsewhere."
Zon looked at him....long, hard.
Safhire pressed on,
"We're under immense pressure right now. Please… give us time. But find my daughter. At any cost."
Zon nodded.
"Understood. But if anything else surfaces… don't keep it from me."
Safhire and Zeshiya nodded in unison.
Zon turned and walked away.
As he neared the exit, a soldier passed by....heading toward the Consulas' room.
The man carried a large wooden box with a red cross painted on it.
He smirked at Zon.
Zon paused.There was something....off That smirk....That box.
But he said nothing.
Just walked away.
Outside, the night remained dark but something had shifted.
And Zon could feel it.
The soldier stood outside Daniya's room,that plain wooden box clutched in his hands. He knocked gently on the door.
Inside, Safhire and Zeshiya sat in tense silence. Sweat dripped down Safhire's temples, his hands trembling unconsciously, as if death itself stood on the other side. The sudden knock startled him, and he snapped:
"Who's there?!"
A calm voice replied from beyond the door.
"My lord, I'm one of the mansion guards. A man gave me this box and told me to deliver it to you. He claimed it's important something related to your daughter. But… the man seemed suspicious. Should I dispose of it?"
The moment Safhire heard "your daughter," his pulse spiked. He rushed to the door, flung it open, and snatched the box from the soldier's hands.
"You're dismissed," he said quickly.
The soldier bowed and departed silently. Despite the mansion's many rooms, not a single guard was posted inside. All 134 soldiers patrolled only the perimeter.
Safhire stared down at the box, muttering under his breath.
"Why the hell is this thing so heavy? It's not even that big…"
From behind him, Zeshiya's soft voice broke the silence.
"Honey…..what's in the box?"
Safhire responded dryly, his nerves on edge.
"Let's see… how could I possibly know without opening it?"
Zeshiya's voice was hesitant, but firm.
"Then open it."
He said nothing more.
Silently, he sat on the edge of the bed. His hands, though shaking, moved to unfasten the lid. It creaked as it opened.... a hollow sound that echoed through the room like a slow scream. Inside was cloth wrapping, soaked in a damp, metallic scent.
He pulled it out.
And then... time seemed to stop.
His eyes widened. His breath hitched, heavy and uneven. His mind refused to process what he saw.
A severed head.
Fresh. Bleeding.
And not just anyone's....it was Luwarm.
One of his most loyal men. The very one he had entrusted with Daniya's safety.
The face was mangled....eyes gouged from their sockets, tongue barely clinging to the jaw. It was a grotesque mess of agony and death. Zeshiya gasped...and instantly vomited, unable to look a second longer.
Safhire, hardened by war and bloodshed, had seen corpses before. Mutilation wasn't new. But this… this wasn't just a corpse.
This was a message.
And it shattered him.
His body began to shake. Violently. His mind was consumed by a growing storm of panic and dread.
No, no, no, no… Luwarm? How… how could this happen?
What happened to my Daniya?
Then it hit him. The soldier.
That man… he must've known something!
In a burst of desperation, Safhire stormed out the room. But the moment he opened the door.....he froze.
His breath caught.
Time stopped again.
Daniya stood before him.
Alive.
Blood-soaked. Her clothes were torn, her body trembling. Her eyes overflowed with silent tears.
For a long second, Safhire couldn't even breathe.
"D-Daniya… you… you're alive?"
Zeshiya, still shaking from what she'd seen, gasped at the sight of her daughter. Tears welled up in her eyes.
Safhire dropped the box and stepped forward, embracing his daughter with a shaking grip.
He closed his eyes, tears falling freely now.
"My girl… I… I'm so relieved. You're okay… you're really okay…"
At that moment, Safhire Consula's heart brimmed with relief. His daughter was alive. His plan hadn't failed. For once, fate had shown mercy.
But fate was a cruel illusion.
In the blink of an eye, steel pierced flesh. Both Daniya and Safhire were stabbed through the chest.....simultaneously. Safhire gasped, blood erupting from his mouth. His eyes fluttered open in disbelief.
And then, they met his eyes.
Veythor stood before him...disguised in a soldier's uniform, blade buried deep, his expression carved in mockery. Safhire's gaze froze. His face twisted.....grief, rage, confusion, despair.....all crashing down at once.
It was him.
The box. The soldier. The trap.
"No…" Safhire's thoughts screamed. He gave me that box. I walked right into his hands like a fool…
Veythor grinned, voice a venomous whisper as he chuckled darkly.
"Haha… look at your face, Prime Minister.
Didn't I warn you?
I told you....
The liar shall always fall… to the greater liar."
Zeshiya, paralyzed in horror, opened her mouth to scream....one last desperate cry for the guards outside. But Veythor had already anticipated it.
A dagger whistled through the air.
It struck her throat before the scream could leave it.
She dropped... lifeless.
Safhire, eyes wide with panic, reached out with trembling hands to cast healing magic. But it was already too late. The wound in his heart pulsed with darkness. No spell could mend this.
Veythor slowly withdrew his blade from both father and daughter. Daniya, though wounded, hadn't been dealt a fatal blow.... yet.
Safhire was another story.
With merciless precision, Veythor raised his blade once more and.... schlick the Prime Minister's head rolled across the marble floor.
Daniya screamed. Tears streamed down her blood-smeared cheeks. She cursed him, spat every venomous word her trembling lips could conjure.
But Veythor? He remained silent.
One by one, without pause, he silenced each of them. The blade sang its final lullaby.
Heads rolled.
The mansion, once a sanctuary, became a grave.Veythor stepped through the crimson-soaked room, his boots echoing across marble now stained with silence. He stared at the lifeless bodies..... the Prime Minister's head lying dumb, Daniya's eyes still open, Zeshiya's blood pooled like ink beneath a quill.
He smiled faintly.
Then, under his breath, like a mad bard before a dying fire, he began to sing:
"Hush now, hush, the night's grown deep,
The stars are weeping, none shall sleep.
The liar lies with hollow chest,
The mother's soul has found its rest.
The daughter cries, her tears too late,
For love was always death in wait.
Sing no hymns, no final prayer,
Your gods are dead, your skies are bare.
The blade, it dances, silent, true
And paints my wrath in shades of you.
So sleep, sweet fools, in blood and flame,
The world forgets your voice, your name.
And if they ask who sealed your fate
Tell them the Devil learned to imitate."
His voice faded.
Only silence remained.
Veythor turned, vanishing into shadow
leaving behind not just corpses…
but a mystery soaked in madness.