The Imperial Palace
Minister Grimald, the Emperor's most trusted advisor and mainstay at the Imperial Palace, walked purposedly through the Palace grounds, accompanied by his aide. He was dressed in a dignified ensemble-a silver tunic complemented by gilded stockings. As he strolled amidst the gardens, his gaze swept across the tranquil surrounds.
Amid his contemplation, Grimald's eyes locked onto a figure cloaked in black, unmistakably Arawn, who seemingly approached him with slow, silent steps. Grimald's unwavering gaze met Arawn's as he spoke,
"Hmm... Word has it that the sovereign of the Cathartic Realm is an enigmatic vagabond and tends to flee from one place to another. Rarely traced by anyone."
Arawn stood before Grimald, his composed countenance accentuated by his long braid dangling behind him.
"Rumours also say, that your appearance and aura of dead, bears a striking resemblance to his...You remind me of him," Grimald continued, his tone laced with suspicion. "Could it be, that you actually are him. Concealing your true identity with a cunning disguise such as this?"
Grimald scruntized Arawn, his gaze unwavering and grim.
Arawn, however, remained unmoved, his countenance still composed. He subtly shook his head in response, "No, I am not the soveriegn you mention..." Turning to the side, he rested his fingers on his chin, assuming a thoughtful stance. "However, it could be that... One of my manifestations has taken on it's own will..." he admitted, genuinely meeting Grimald's gaze.
Grimald, momentarily taken aback, blinked at Arawn, silent. Clearing his throat, he conceded, "Ahem. Um- Let us not dwell on it. A few words, and I can already tell that you are not him. Just leave it at that,"
"Do you know of his whereabouts?" Arawn questioned with a fixed gaze.
Grimald shook his head, "As the Majesty's advisor, I can affirm that he is not within my grasp. But even if I did know, what makes you think I would tell you of all people?"
Arawn, unaffected by his words, replied, "Very well, then. Forget about it."
He gracefully dissipated into a wisp of black smoke, vanishing without a sound.
Grimald stared, his eyes squinting for a moment. A shiver raced down his spine as he felt an intangible darkness enveloping him. "His aura is undeniably menacing... Is this what they mean by 'silent as death?'" Grimald thought, feeling as though he were being consumed by an imperceptible void.
__
Minister Grimald had been summoned to the Emperor's presence for a crucial discussion with King Edgar regarding their strategy to address the threats posed by Cathartic.
Seated at the replesendent table were Grimald, King Edgar, Draven, the Emperor, and Abel, who soon joined the talk.
Draven observed King Edgar and Grimald as they delved into discussions about the conditions of the Camellias realm,
"It is vital for our realms to take into consideration the concequences of Cathartic realm's bombings. However, it seems that their primary focus lies on Almeria, rather than your realm or the others." Grimald ardiculated.
"Indeed, it has been noted that whenever we seek Almeria's assistance or collaboration, the Cathartic forces tend to retaliate and target us thereafter. As though we are a hindrance. This fact requires our covert efforts and, most significantly, underscores the crucial role of Almerian knights in ensuring their nation's safety, in my perspective." King Edgar concurred.
The Emperor added, grim, "I know. It is a significant concern. We, as the largest realm among the three realms, do not wish to endanger any other realm for our own sake. We shall take full responsibility for our actions and manage the consequences of their retaliations, ensuring the safety of the Elmorian realms. This is our burden, and we shall bear it ourselves."
King Edgar responded with a reassuring tone, "While we remain commited to assisting you, your consideration is both thoughtful and necessary. Let's collaborate closely."
Grimald, turning to Draven, who seemed to be in a deep thought, inquired curiously, "Is there anything you would like to add, Prince Draven?"
Draven, his gaze fixed on Grimald, replied with formality, "I believe that the forging of alliances and uniting our forces are not mere options but imperatives of the highest order. Why, you may ask? Because, in the realm of strategic conflict, a larger, united force wields greater strength. While the Cathartic Realm may boast superiority as the largest district, it would undoubtedly pale in comparison when confronted by the collective might of all five realms working in unison. However, the choice still depends on the elders."
The Emperor, King Edgar and Abel listened to Draven's words. Grimald, visibly pleased with the depths of his insights, praised him, "Your perpective is truly exceptional. It is an honour to recieve ideas from a prince of your caliber. The formation of a united force, joining our strengths, would render us unmatched against the Cathartic. While we Almerian people have traditionally favored discretion, your suggestion of seeking friendly terms and forming alliances is indeed wise. Well done, Prince Draven."
Abel sternly gazed at Draven who expressed his gratitude for the acknowledgement.
King Edgar's eyes widened for a moment, brimming with pride, until he broke into a warm smile and patted Draven's back. "Haha. Of course, he is my son. Of course, he would be exceptional." His laughter echoed through the room, and the others joined in with smiles. Draven, initially taken aback, stared at King Edgar in disbelief, his emotions welling up. The Emperor gazed at them, grim.
King Edgar continued, "I always believed this son of mine would carry on my legacy with honor. Well done," he remarked with a genuine smile. Draven with his mouth slightly agape in disbelief, could help but eventually break into a heartfelt smile, "...Thank you." His voice filled with gratitude and newfound appreciation for an unexpected praise.
Enya, engrossed in her library duties, meticulously arranged numerous books on the wooden shelves. Sunlight filtered through the large arched windows, casting a soft glow onto the rows of neatly stacked books.
Meanwhile, some thoughts crossed her mind, "I hope everything is well with Noah...Ameren did say she would handle everything but still." A flicker of worry took over her. Taking a deep breath, Enya shook her head to ease herself.
While clasping a particularly ornate book in her hands, Enya couldn't help but recall a recent encounter, "Oh. Didn't the Second Prince seem to have a fondness for books? Pfft. Such a strange person he seemed, though." An amused grin escaped her lips.
However, her expression grew concerned as she added, "But...why do I keep thinking of this...that he really doesn't look so bad...but to others he does?" she murmured, her voice tinged with worry yet confusion.
"People can be so foolish, always quick to exaggerate!" Enya muttered in frustration. "He rarely appears and keeps to himself? So what? It's all so perplexing. I'm certain there's more to him than meets the eye. But how can people be so unkind, constantly speaking ill of him?" Enya bit her lip conflicted by the injustice, yet, she suddenly snapped, "Should I just explode them all with bombs or beat them with a thousand sandals? This should help him! I wonder... If not, how can I make a difference?" Sympathy welled up from the depths of her heart as she clenched her fist, "No. Enya, you always work out justice for others. You mustn't hold back this time either. Don't worry. I will think of something for you too, Second Prince." she spoke to herself, nodding.
Suddenly, a thought struck her. "Oh, Noah loves books too. Perhaps I should borrow one for him."
Mary, approaching with stacks of more books, spoke up, "My, my. You are quite unique. You seem quite fond of the Second Prince." Enya shifted her gaze to Mary, "...Fond? Oh. No." she replied, shaking her head.
Mary chuckled, "You're innocent. To think that you would extend help to even those beyond reach...not a bad trait."
Enya furrowed her brows, conflicted, "So you mean I shouldn't?" she asked.
Mary took a deep breath as she piled up the books, her expression serious. "I have no intention of crushing your hopes. It is just a mere thought. However, remember, that person is not as good as you may think. I advise you to stay away from him at all costs. He is too strong and his abilities are lethal. Everyone fears him greatly. It is no joke, even though he rarely reveals himself," she cautioned.
Enya heard her with her eyes widening, "Huh..."
""You're a young girl, and perhaps you may not fully grasp the gravity of the situation. But it is best to keep your distance. Even if, you ever become an Imperial Knight." Mary continued, her tone grave. Enya looked below, chosing not to argue, "...That, again?" her thoughts lingered.
...
The Throne room buzzed with tension as the Emperor's domineering presence and ceaseless steps filled the space. His sharp gaze swept over every corner, casting an imposing shadow that seemed to weigh heavily on the very atmosphere. Suddenly, his brisk stride came to an abrupt halt, and a deep frown creased his brow.
Abel stepped over with mischievious glint in his eyes. The Emperor glanced at him smirking,
"My clan's affairs are mine alone," his voice, though barely a whisper, reverberated with an eerie power, making the windows tremble. "None should dare involve themselves. At the peak of enchantment, it too holds its own dark."
Clutching a scroll tightly in his grasp, he fixed an intense gaze upon Abel. "Do not fret, my son. The future belongs to you," he assured.
Abel snickered with pride, his hair radiating an intense, blinding glow. "Indeed, Father. I am well aware. And if by some twist of fate it does not, I shall be the one to alter its course," he declared.
As night descended, The moon, a radiant pearl, bathed the scene in its silvery light, casting intricate patterns of shadow and glow upon the courtyard below. Ancient stone pillars,
Enya paced back and forth during her night shift at the Imperial Palace, clutching a book in her hands. Suddenly halting, she couldn't help but cry with teary eyes, "Oh dear, why can't I have a day off? Squire Joe's antics have landed me in big trouble, and now I feel utterly exhausted," Her words trailed off, slouching lazily. Though, she tried to entertain herself, her weariness was undeniable (since morning to night). From scratching her head to stomping her feet and even letting out a few sighs, her restless movements were on full display.
With a sigh, she muttered, "I wish for a break~"
Suddenly, shimmering petals began to trace delicate patterns around her, their brilliance akin to stars in the night sky. Enya's eyes lit up as she watched in awe. "Beautiful..." she whispered in wonder, a sense of familiarity tugging at her memory. She furrowed her brows, placing her fingers on her chin in a deep thought, "It feels like...I have seen these somewhere? But- where?" she pondered.
Suddenly flinching, she seemed to recall. Her expression darkened as she looked below conflicted, "..."
Shaking her thoughts away, she forced a smile, playing around with the petals. A humming melody filled the air, as Enya sung ever so lightly,
♪ "In a realm where wonder and magic reign,
Beneath a sky of night so velvety and bright,
Floating petals in mid air, sway,
Their forms like whispers, fragile and fair,
A mersmerising sight, beyond compare..." ♪
She twirled around with a gleam. Clasping a petal, she halted in her tracks, her gaze shifting to her right arm, which trembled slightly, revealing a hidden wound. She winced in pain, covering the injury with a sigh.
♪ "In the darkest of nights, I wander alone,
Lost in the shadows, no chance to go home...
Be it a glimmer of ho... Ahh!" ♪
Pain shot through her as her hair caught on a nearby branch. "Ouch," she exclaimed, rubbing her forehead in discomfort. "It hurts." She gingerly untangled her hair, and with a final tug, she freed herself. "Thank goodness," she sighed in relief, her disheveled hair falling loose around her shoulders.
Enya clasped her hair, searching for the brooch that tied it together, but it was nowhere to be found. She glanced around nervously, ensuring no one had witnessed her mishap. "What am I doing? If someone were to see me, it would be so humiliating. Seriously, how can I be so careless?" she whispered, scolding herself.
Her long, violet hair fluttered in the breeze as she gazed at the moon above. "Beautiful... Everything is so beautiful," she whispered, her lips curving into a serene smile. "I love the night." ♪
High above, A figure clad in black, stood on the Palace's balcony, his fingers lightly clasping the ornate railings. His marroon, gentle gaze scruntized Enya's unwaveringly calm figure, as she hummed under the moonlight. Silver petals gently descended below.
In a flicker of a moment, a scroll took it form before him. Clasping it, the figure turned on his heel and vanished into the night, leaving no trace.
Unbeknownst, to a single soul.