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  HuaLian Kingdom – Throne Room

  The towering marble pillars of the throne room cast long shadows under the dimmed golden light. King Themis, draped in a deep crimson robe lined with silver embroidery, leaned slightly on the armrest of his ornate throne, fingers drumming thoughtfully. His sharp emerald eyes locked onto his trusted advisor, Lord Halren, who bowed low before him.

  “Have you received any word from Rayne?” The King’s voice, though calm, carried a subtle weight of concern.

  Lord Halren rose, his own expression steady and composed. “Your Majesty,” he said with an assuring bow of his head, “the Crown Prince is well. He has reached the Salvation Kingdom under peaceful terms. The invitation, though sudden, holds no malice. Crown Prince Rayne is cautious, as always.”

  Themis’s gaze softened slightly, though a line of worry lingered between his brows. “Good. I trust his instincts.”

  Lord Halren smiled faintly, the creases around his eyes deepening. “Indeed, sire. With Prince Rayne’s wisdom and strength, the discussion will unfold as it should. You need not worry.”

  King Themis leaned back, exhaling slowly, the tension in his shoulders loosening. “Very well. Keep me informed.”

  “As you command, Your Majesty.”

  The flames from the great braziers flickered, casting dancing lights along the marble, as a silent prayer for safe dealings whispered between the two men.

  (Arrival at Salvation Kingdom – Palace Courtyard, 7:00 PM)

  The deep chime of the palace bell marked the evening hour as Rayne’s carriage rolled to a gentle halt before the grand courtyard, bathed under the soft silver glow of the rising moon. Lanterns swung gently in the night breeze, their light painting golden pools on the polished stone floor.

  The heavy carriage door clicked open, pulled aside by Liu, Rayne's ever-loyal knight. Dressed in his elegant but practical traveling attire, Rayne—known by few as Killian—descended gracefully.

  His blond hair, kissed by moonlight, rippled in the breeze like a banner of royalty. His sharp azure eyes scanned the scene with subtle calculation as his boots touched the ground with quiet authority.

  Waiting for him at the base of the wide staircase was the Crown Prince of Salvation, a tall young man with dark auburn hair tied neatly behind his head, dressed in a deep blue royal uniform trimmed with white. His name was Crown Prince Silas Eristar.

  Silas wore an easy, welcoming smile as he stepped forward. Their eyes met, two princes bearing the weight of their kingdoms, and in that brief glance, a silent agreement of mutual respect passed between them.

  Rayne offered his hand first, his gesture precise, confident.

  Silas took it firmly, a faint but genuine smile curving his lips. “Thank you for honoring my invitation, Crown Prince Rayne. I realize it came with little notice.”

  As Silas prepared to elaborate, perhaps to explain the urgency, Rayne swiftly, yet almost playfully, pressed a single gloved index finger to his own lips, a silent command for discretion.

  Silas caught on immediately, his smile tightening with understanding. He gave a single, subtle nod, stepping aside to motion Rayne toward the palace’s great doors.

  “Please,” Silas said warmly, voice dropping to a near whisper, “allow me to personally escort you.”

  The two princes ascended the marble steps side by side, their cloaks billowing behind them like twin shadows. Guards and envoys moved discreetly around them, some already filing toward their designated chambers. A handful of Rayne’s men murmured quietly among themselves, disappearing into the hallways to settle for the night.

  Inside the grand halls, gilded chandeliers bathed the corridors in a muted gold light. Every footstep echoed with a soft click against the polished floors. They walked close together, heads tilted in toward one another.

  Silas’s voice lowered to an almost inaudible murmur. “I fear… we were being watched earlier, isn't it?” he confessed asking Rayne, keeping his gaze forward, feigning casual conversation. “I didn’t sense it until after you signaled it to me.”

  Rayne’s lips curled into a thin, almost amused line. “I too missed their presence,” he admitted softly, his sharp eyes flickering with a calculating gleam. “They were skilled.”

  Silas’s jaw tightened slightly. “Not skilled enough to avoid suspicion forever.”

  A long pause passed between them as they continued walking, the air around them heavy with unspoken concern. The walls of the palace seemed to listen.

  Eventually, Silas stopped before a grand, dark-oak door carved with the emblem of Salvation’s royal crest.

  “This will be your chamber for tonight, Rayne,” he said, his voice formal but tinged with genuine warmth. “Rest well. Tomorrow, we’ll have a more… secure discussion.”

  Rayne inclined his head gracefully. “I’ll be ready.”

  Their eyes met one last time before Silas turned, his boots echoing softly down the corridor, leaving Rayne standing before the grand door, his expression thoughtful.

  As Liu opened the door for him with a respectful nod, Rayne cast one last glance down the empty hallway, the faint scent of night jasmine lingering in the air.

  The game had already begun—and neither prince knew just how deep the shadows ran.

  Kael – Salvation Kingdom, Guest Quarters Inn, Evening

  The room was cloaked in a serene, almost solemn quietness. The velvet curtains were drawn open just slightly, letting in a sliver of the silvery night sky. The soft chirping of distant crickets and the occasional rustle of wind brushing against the palace walls filled the air.

  Kael sat on the edge of his bed, knees pulled up to his chest, arms loosely wrapped around them. His long black hair flowed down his back like an inky waterfall, strands spilling over the bed’s soft linen sheets and pooling along the edge. The faint glow from the bedside lantern caught the silkiness of his hair, making it shimmer faintly like woven night.

  Across the room, Quirl and Quin—his usual companions and guards—were busy gathering their clothes from a nearby trunk, preparing for a much-needed wash after the long day.

  Kael watched them quietly, his dark violet eyes half-lidded, unreadable.

  There was a strange hollowness in him tonight, something that pressed heavily against his ribs. A stillness. A quietness that wasn’t the usual, composed Kael they were used to. It was something… deeper.

  Quirl, while shrugging off his outer jacket, finally noticed. His hands paused mid-motion as he glanced toward Kael, brows knitting in mild concern.

  Kael’s quietness tonight wasn’t the usual soft-spoken calm. It was the kind of silence that felt like the heavy, damp air before a storm.

  “Kael,” Quirl called out, his tone careful but gentle. “We’ll take a quick shower. Be back in a bit.”

  Quin, already half out of his uniform, gave a small nod in agreement. “Won’t take long. You should rest too, Kael.”

  For a moment, Kael said nothing, simply observing them with those distant eyes, almost as if their words took a second longer to reach him.

  Then, slowly, Kael lifted his head from where it rested on his knees and gave them a small nod, the movement delicate, almost ethereal.

  “All right,” he said softly, his voice barely a murmur, as if afraid to break the fragile air around them.

  Quirl smiled a little, relieved to hear his voice, even if it was quiet. He ruffled his own hair awkwardly before slinging a towel over his shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late, Kael.”

  Quin chuckled lowly as he followed after Quirl toward the bathing room. “He’ll probably still be sitting like that when we’re back.”

  Kael watched them go, the door sliding shut behind them with a soft click. As their footsteps faded down the hall, Kael was left alone in the room once again.

  He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging just slightly.

  The stillness returned, wrapping around him like a familiar cloak. His fingers toyed absently with a strand of his own hair, trailing the soft silkiness between his fingers. His mind drifted—visions of flames, a voice he didn’t quite recognize but somehow missed, flashes of memories that felt too old to belong to this life.

  Asael.

  The name whispered somewhere deep inside his soul, a ghost of something lost.

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  Kael squeezed his eyes shut briefly, willing the weight away.

  He didn’t know why he felt so strange tonight, as if some unseen thread had been tugged inside him. As if something important had shifted in the world without his knowing.

  The night outside deepened, the stars blinking like distant sentinels. In that quiet room, Kael remained curled upon his bed, a small figure with a storm gently sleeping beneath his skin, waiting.

  Kael – Salvation Kingdom, Guest Quarters Inn, Late Night into Morning

  After quite some times. The door creaked open softly.

  Quirl and Quin slipped back inside, the faint smell of fresh soap clinging to them after their shower. Their steps padded quietly across the wooden floor, used to keeping their presence light around Kael.

  Their eyes immediately went to him.

  Kael was still exactly where they'd left him—curled up on his bed, hugging his knees, head resting on his arms, long black hair draping over his back and bedsheets like a veil of silk.

  Quin shot Quirl a knowing glance, his eyebrows lifting slightly as if to say, "See?"

  Quirl just shook his head slowly in response, a faint sigh escaping his nose. "Let him be," he mouthed soundlessly before moving toward his own bed.

  Quin grumbled under his breath but obeyed. He fetched a small cloth and settled by the low table, carefully polishing his sword—the very sword Kael had gifted him a week ago. He handled it with surprising gentleness for someone usually so brash.

  Quirl, meanwhile, pulled out his well-worn notebook and a few scrolls from his satchel, unrolling them with a flick of his wrist. The scratch of his pen filled the room as he made notes, occasionally pausing to read over a section of a faded parchment. And somehow reading about the safest routes Sir Liu mentioned to him earlier evening.

  Kael didn’t move.

  He sat there, silent, lost to the world, his gaze fixed toward the closed window where the moonlight spilled across the floor like a quiet river. The silver light caught in his stormy gray eyes, making them seem almost translucent—like he wasn’t fully present, his soul adrift somewhere far from this room.

  His mind wandered, against his will.

  Unbidden, a memory surfaced—a memory from a life he shouldn't have remembered.

  A laughing voice. A hand reaching out to ruffle his hair.

  A blond-haired boy—bright like the sun—standing with him beneath a grand tree whose leaves shimmered silver under the daylight.

  Rayne...

  No—Killian.

  No—before even that...

  A name stirred, dusted with the bittersweet ache of old bonds.

  Asael Kian Ravenwood, he remembered.

  Eldest son of the House of Ravenwood. The first great sorcerer of their age from HuaLian Kingdom.

  A soft, almost inaudible sigh slipped from Kael’s lips. His body slumped a little further into himself, head nestling deeper onto his folded arms. His long black hair fell over his face like a dark curtain.

  From the corner of his eye, Quirl caught the faint motion.

  He turned his head slightly, quietly observing Kael’s still figure.

  Poor kid...

  Quirl’s ability to sense emotions tingled faintly—what he felt was not sadness alone, but a deep, tangled mix of grief, confusion, and something like yearning.

  But sensing Kael’s fragile state, Quirl wisely said nothing, choosing instead to let the boy have his space.

  The hours slipped by.

  Eventually, the deep blue of night faded into the softer gray of dawn. One by one, the boys in the room fell asleep—Quin first, snoring softly as usual, sprawled without a care; then Quirl, steady and calm, his breathing rhythmic.

  Kael’s body eventually yielded to exhaustion too, he still recovering.

  He curled onto his side facing Quirl’s bed, his breathing shallow, the charm Serenn had given him tucked safely under his pillow.

  For a brief moment, the charm shimmered a soft, fleeting glow and then faded again.

  When Kael opened his eyes again, he was wandered through mist.

  The world around him was muted, the colors washed pale like old watercolors. Shapes drifted around him—unfamiliar yet hauntingly familiar.

  Then, from the mist, a figure emerged.

  A woman, tall and ethereal, with long flowing hair the same shade of deepest midnight. Her features were soft, yet regal; her eyes shone with a loving warmth that tugged at Kael’s heart. And has the same features like original Kael's face. As for now, it was Asael soul reside Kael's body.

  Mother...

  No—Kael’s mother.

  In her hand, she held a medium-sized feather, vibrant blue and pulsing with a faint inner light.

  She smiled tenderly at him.

  “My dearest star…” her voice was like a lullaby, almost too soft to catch. Despite knowing it was not her son soul inside her voice still carried a gentle tone.

  “Your blood… carries the bond… the storm’s will… Seek it… protect it…”

  The words blurred, slipping through Kael’s mind like water through his fingers.

  He tried to step closer, to ask What storm? What bond?

  But the mist thickened, swallowing her figure.

  And Kael was left reaching out toward nothingness.

  Suddenly, Kael jolted awake, gasping softly. His heart pounded against his ribs like a trapped bird.

  The room was filled with the warm smell of fresh bread and herbal tea.

  He blinked, dazed, as Quin entered carrying a tray laden with simple breakfast—the roast bread warm and golden, the tea steaming faintly. Then Kael thought it's morning already….

  Quirl sat at the table, carefully inspecting Kael’s dagger under the early morning light. His fingers brushed reverently over the blade’s intricate runes—the weapon Kael had entrusted him with.

  Seeing Kael sit up, Quin grinned wide, setting the tray down with a clatter.

  “Morning, sleeping beauty. Breakfast's here.”

  Kael rubbed his eyes lightly unbothered by Quin morning greets, his body feeling heavier than usual. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipping on his shoes, then stretched his arms over his head. His long black hair swayed gracefully behind him, some strands tumbling messily over his face.

  Quirl looked up and smiled slightly. “Eat first. You look like you wrestled a ghost in your sleep.”

  Kael blinked at him, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  “Maybe I did…” he murmured under his breath, voice low.

  He shuffled over to the chair and sat, plucking a piece of warm roast bread from the tray. He ate slowly, thoughtfully, while the others dug in with more enthusiasm.

  Midway through breakfast, Quirl leaned back in his chair, wiping his hands.

  “So, Kael,” he asked casually, “what exactly are we looking for in Salvation Kingdom? Anything specific?”

  Kael chewed slowly, thinking.

  He couldn't tell them everything—not yet. He didn’t even fully understand it himself.

  But he needed their help.

  Setting his bread down, Kael wiped his fingers on a cloth and spoke calmly:

  “There’s… an object I need to find,” he said carefully, voice measured. “A necklace. Made of stormy gray jade.”

  He looked between Quirl and Quin, who listened intently.

  “It’s important,” Kael continued. “But I don’t know who has it. We’ll need to watch carefully. If you see anyone wearing it or hear any rumors about such an item, tell me immediately.”

  Quin gave a sharp nod. “Got it. Should be easy enough to spot.”

  Quirl narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Stormy gray jade, huh? That’s pretty rare. Should stand out.”

  They thoughts it was easy to find…..

  Kael nodded.

  “Thank you. I’ll search too… My body feels better than yesterday.”

  As proof, he reached for the small medicinal pill Serenn had given him the day before, swallowing it with a mouthful of water. He coughed a little at the bitterness but quickly composed himself.

  “You should still take it slow,” Quirl said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t push too hard.”

  Kael merely inclined his head, his stormy gray eyes calm, determined.

  After finishing his meal, Kael stood gracefully and walked toward the washing area, his steps light but sure, his long black hair cascading perfectly behind him.

  As he disappeared into the washroom, Quirl and Quin exchanged a glance.

  There was something different about Kael today—something sharper, more focused.

  Neither of them said it aloud, but both could feel it:

  Something had shifted.

  And whatever it was, it would soon pull them all deeper into a fate they couldn't yet see.

  The faint warmth of morning light filtered through the thin curtains of their shared inn room, casting soft shadows across the wooden floor. Kael stepped out from the washroom, the scent of fresh soap clinging lightly to him. His thin black shirt clung to his damp skin, the fabric almost translucent where the light kissed it. Long black hair, wet and glistening, fell over his shoulders and down his back in sleek strands.

  Across the room, Quirl and Quin were already dressed in their simplest, most unremarkable outfits plain tunics, well-worn boots, and travel cloaks faded from many suns.

  Yet when Kael’s pale gaze swept over them, a faint, amused curve touched his lips.

  “Even with such plainness, your faces will still invite unwanted attention," Kael said calmly, the humor in his voice barely veiled.

  Quin, securing his sword at his right side, gave a lopsided grin. “Not our fault we’re this charming," he quipped, flashing a boyish smile.

  Quirl, slipping a hidden dagger into the inner fold of his tunic, only sighed in resignation. "We tried, Kael. We really did," he said with a soft chuckle.

  Ignoring their light bickering, Quin moved behind Kael, grabbing a dry towel from the nearby table. With quick, practiced motions, he dried Kael's hair, fingers deftly working through the silken strands. Once done, he carefully tied it into a half-tied style using a thin ornamental chain, allowing the rest of Kael’s hair to fall elegantly down his back like a waterfall of ink.

  Kael, out of habit, ran his fingers lightly through his hair to feel the neatness before reaching for the second layer of his clothing. He donned a pared-down black outfit, fitted cleanly to his tall frame. A peach-colored cloth curled gently across his left shoulder, trailing down to brush his boots. In the soft morning light, the cloth glowed like a quiet flame. Small silver chains, pinned discreetly at both sides of his collar, shimmered faintly with every subtle movement.

  When Kael was fully dressed, he turned to look at Quirl and Quin, only to find them exchanging a silent look, one that clearly said, 'You're still going to catch attention.'

  Kael merely shrugged his shoulders, an expression of indifference crossing his face.

  He stepped toward his bedside table, scanning for his white cloth the one he usually used to cover his eyes. Yet it was nowhere to be found.

  “Quin, where's my cloth?” Kael asked quietly, his brow furrowing slightly.

  “I left it on your table yesterday,” Quin replied, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Maybe Sir Serenn accidentally took it along with his scrolls.”

  Far from the inn, at the Salvation Palace, Sir Serenn stood amidst scrolls and garments strewn across his quarters, methodically arranging them. As he lifted a stack of scrolls, a small white piece of cloth slipped from between the papers, fluttering silently to the marble floor.

  Serenn tilted his head, picking it up carefully. His sharp eyes caught the faint mark near the cloth's edge, a single dried drop of blood.

  A sigh escaped him. "This must be Sir Kael’s…" he muttered to himself, recognizing the familiar fabric. Without hesitation, he folded the cloth and slipped it into the inner pocket of his robe, making a mental note to return it the next time he saw him.

  Back at the inn, Kael let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh.

  He stood still for a moment, thoughtful, before his gaze shifted to the peach cloth draped over his shoulder. The morning breeze whispered into the room through the cracked window, tugging at the fabric as if offering a suggestion.

  Without hesitation, Kael moved to the edge of the cloth, and with delicate precision, he tore a long, thin strip just wide enough to cover his eyes.

  Quirl and Quin, who had been watching in silent curiosity, let out low whistles of admiration.

  “Brilliant thinking, Kael," Quin said, grinning.

  “Amazing, and practical," Quirl added with a nod. Before took the peach colored cloth and put one enchanted spell he learned from Sir Serenn before, to reduced possibbility encountered danger.

  Kael only dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment before tying the strip gently around his eyes, the peach color soft against his pale skin. Once secured, he adjusted the cloth until it sat comfortably.

  Satisfied, Quirl grabbed their money pouches and the key to their shared room, double-checking their belongings.

  Kael, too, picked up his wooden pole leaning against the bed. As he moved, the pole chimed softly, a faint melodic sound that felt oddly comforting.

  Quin handed Kael a small money pouch for himself, which Kael tucked securely into his outfit, hidden from prying hands.

  After confirming they had everything, the three boys locked the room and headed toward the stairs.

  Already, from the second floor, the buzz of conversation and clinking of dishes floated up from the dining hall below.

  The moment they descended and their figures came into view Kael leading with his pole tapping gently, his long hair swaying behind him, and the peach cloth veiling his eyes the room seemed to pause.

  Murmurs rose instantly.

  Heads turned.

  Some guests choked mid-drink, others dropped their forks.

  To be continued...

  *Authors Note:

  :-) >_<