The sun retreated to its slumber, allowing the clouds of gloom to hover over the realm and envelop it. Their raindrops gently touched like a lover's lips. Riding on an unpaved road under the canopy of gray and grim was a woman named Kiara. She was alone and her only companions were the flora and fauna of the surrounding forest.

She rode on, ignoring the pain heavy in her heart that brought about salty tears that got lost in the rain. She believed in a beautiful lie that went so deep that her cold walls shattered. The newfound passion was soon quenched by the wicked thing that has no beginning or end. It was so wicked that it puppeteers the entire universe forcing it to dance to its tune, keeping pleasure too short and suffering in a lengthy stretch.

It made Kiara be lost in bliss, and leaping in great gusto, that terrible thing took her by surprise and left her on an island of solitude. Still, yet not still, firm as a mountain and fragile as a feather, she persisted, locking those memories into the chasm of her heart and followed the scent that once made her feel alive. So, she moved from one place to another, and tales were told about it. Tales shaped from blood, penned and sanitized or occasionally negatively distorted by the Charans who sought to entertain rather than educate.

Kiara rode further, seeking a ruined fortress that offered shelter from the tempest. It didn't take her long to reach the ruined fortress that loomed over the forest, casting a murky glow.

Five hundred years ago, two hundred years after the second age of chaos, after Narasimha of Vijayavamsha occupied Tenalast, a blend of Tenalast and Vijayavamsha architecture was used to construct buildings.

With the entrance gate missing, she moved in, leading her horse into the main building. The main building had a broken, high dome with elaborate patterns and colorful designs carved into its surface, telling both mythological and historical events. With her enhanced eyes, she saw a depiction of a brave maiden aiming her golden bow at a ten-headed giant. That was one of the many avatars of her god. There were other depictions such as a man bowing before a dusky priest and a white-haired king, which Kiara, with her limited historical knowledge, deduced as Andrev of Doni, the founder of the Tenalastian Empire, bowing before Emperor Narasimha.

As she walked, many depictions of the past caught her enhanced dark eyes and then her keen senses found something watching her from the shadows. Her instincts kicked in. Sword was pulled from scabbard as she turned around facing the stranger, who was a young tenalastian woman, no old than twenty, eyes a reflection of the forest's soul, skin kissed by winter's breath and hair fair enough to risk midnight crown's envy.

"You are exactly as they describe. Dusky skin, beautiful, but not delicate. Oh, and there is that a long silver blade with lion hilt, the one that you won over from one of the Khalden's seven blades," she said and her tone was soft with a trace of nobility.

"Who are you?" Kiara asked.

"I am but a fellow traveller who is delighted to meet a lady I deeply admire." She responded with a charming smile. Kiara approached her with lithe grace and pointed her blade to the white woman's throat.

"I have heard tales of your beauty and your skill with a sword. I am not disappointed."

The tip of the sword touched her skin, small stream of blood trickled down from her pale neck.

"I did not sense your presence until it was too late. You are not an ordinary woman, are you?"

The woman remained calm, despite the sword still resting on her neck. "No, I am not ordinary," she replied calmly, not dropping the smile of hers.

"But I mean you no harm. My name is Penelope. I mastered the art of stealth at a young age, but later in life, I realized my true calling was studying the ancient stones and occasionally beautiful women who want to take my head. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it without alerting myself."

Kiara hesitantly lowered her sword and let the woman take a breath.

"I heard many tales of yours, but I wanted to know from the legend herself," Kiara ignored her and tended to her horse.

"I forgot to mention that I write biographies and would be happy to write it for you," Kiara's eyebrows rose in surprise at the sudden, unexpected offer.

"No," Kiara said bluntly.

Penelope's face fell. "But why not?" she asked, with a hint of disappointment creeping into her voice.

"You deserve to be heard by someone who could tell a proper story, not one filled with lies. I heard tales from bards boasting about how they seduced the dusky lass that dances with the sword. I don't think those fools that put a cat in share with their cowardness could ever see you in the eye, let alone seduce you," .

"To be honest, I don't really care about those charlatans." Kiara shrugged.

"So you never heard it, have you?"

"Heard what?"

"About the woman you loved. They say you killed her, stabbed her in the heart in cold blood."

Kiara's eyes widened, but momentarily her expression shifted to a look of anguish. The sadness that she suppressed minutes ago returned.

"That is true. If I never approached her, things wouldn't have turned that way," she said, her voice laced with sorrow and guilt.

Penelope studied her for a moment and replied, "What really happened?"

"I failed. That's what happened." Penelope held Kiara's hand. "I wasn't lying when I said I admired you. So, you can tell me everything, all of it. If you want someone to listen, I'll listen. I won't share this with the world. If you don't me to,"

Kiara's chuckle had a tone hung between amusement and irritation.

"You admired a lie."

Penelope waved a hand dismissively.

"You saved a village from a Danava attack all by yourself." Kiara shrugged off Penelope's hand and turned away, refusing to listen.

"You fought alongside vanaras in a battle that doesn't concern you," Penelope raised her voice a bit.

"I did it for gold," Kiara intervened.

"It was a losing battle, and it was a small village with nothing to give," Penelope responded sharply. Kiara did not reply, instead let out a sigh and took a seat by a pillar.

"Few good deeds don't make me a good woman. I killed people, robbed people, blackmailed innocents. I destroyed everything, good and kind."

"You" Kiara held up a hand to keep Penelope from speaking.

"Would you really think I am a good person after listening to my story? I don't think so," Penelope shook her head.

"The admiration I have for you isn't the only thing driving my interest in your story. I want to understand you, the one responsible for saving my brother, who thinks of you as a good person and not only him, many more. All of it is important, your triumphs and your missteps, and even if I feel let down by you not painting the image, I created in my head, I still want to hear you out."

She took a step closer and rested a hand on kiara's shoulder.

"A biography was usually requested by a few not to make their story known to the world, but to accept themselves and move on."

Penelope noticed kiara's eyes shifted slightly downward and her lips pressed together.

"I just." She said, but did not continue. A moment later, her eyes met Penelope's.

"What will you offer me for remembering?" She asked, her voice notably softer than before, but with an edge of eagerness and a bit of reluctance.

"The truth about yourself, not the rumors, but what I truly think of you based on what you said. A fresh perspective, one that isn't yours or the people who knew you." Kiara's frown widened, and after a few minutes of silence, she let out a heavy sigh.

"I don't think I could tell you everything at once. At least not here." She said, gesturing at the ruins they stood in. A faint smile played on Penelope's lips. She held Kiara's hand and assured her that she would treat her story with accuracy and care.

"I journeyed here from a nearby town. I already have a room there and I'm willing to pay for another. You can stay there and tell the tale, if that is what you desire."

"It could take much longer than you can imagine. Are you sure you are okay with that? It could take a few days." With a smile on her face, Penelope shook the pouch full of coins, pouch was secured to her waist belt.

The sound of clinking coins filled the air, but did not conceal the sound of pitter patter of raindrops.

"I am rich." A hint of a smile spread across kiara's face, and she nodded in agreement.

A few minutes later, Kiara started a fire by gathering a few twigs lying here and there. She used a piece of flint to strike against a piece of steel and the sparks were created, lighting the twigs with fire. There was a silence between them. The crackling of the flames and the striking of the droplets were the only sounds until Penelope disrupted the quietness.

"This place," she gestured with her hand. "It was built for the Devabhagah, did you know that?" Kiara shook her head.

"Silver of the divinity that created us. That woman," she said, pointing at the domed ceiling, where lies the mural of a woman aiming her bow at a ten headed giant.

"Much about her, along with other things, was lost in the second age of chaos. Anantapapman and his forces suppressed the history and wiped the traces of her existence. But her name survived and that name alone made his servants cower in fear. Your people call her Aadrika, mine call her Riyella. Your people worship her as one of many avatars, but mine think of her as the first daughter of one god."

Penelope took a moment to catch her breath and felt a sudden surge of embarrassment wash over her. Kiara gazed at her with an expression of surprise, but soon a subtle grin spread across her face.

"I just get excited about these things and I ramble on and on like a madwoman to uninterested folk," Kiara waved a hand dismissively.

"It's alright, I already know about her history, but I did not know about her connection to this place. You can tell me more. I don't really mind." Penelope shook her head from side to side.

"No, let's just get some rest until the storm stops."

Kiara nodded and yawned, feeling suddenly exhausted. The wind outside howled, and her body felt a chill. She inched a little closer to the fire. Penelope found a cloth lying about. She folded it and used it as a pillow.

"This will do," Kiara thought the woman seemed too fragile, and offered her own pillow for reasons she couldn't quite explain. She wasn't really kind, especially to the nobles. But Penelope declined the offer, saying. "You travelled a lot. You need proper rest. I can handle some discomfort, as I usually live like a princess, being born in a noble family and all that. Go on, get to sleep."

Kiara couldn't help but notice the scar on Penelope's neck as she shifted in her sleep. She was curious about it and wanted to ask, but felt it was too personal and then another thing popped into her mind.

"When will she come? The silver of the divinity." Penelope turned about and her green eyes were downcast and filled with profound sadness.

"I don't know when she will come," she admitted, but not without disappointment.

"She was to do many wonderful things for the world until she was slain. If she ever comes back, her rule would be a paradise. The world would be pure." She paused for a moment and continued,

"Wickedness will be replaced by purity. Our minds would be clear. The righteous will reign and under her command, truth and justice will be unchained, and the world would be free from all that's wrong."

Kiara averted her eyes and faced the other side, hiding the single tear that flowed from her almond eye. She had heard many tales of prophecies and somehow found it hard to believe such a perfect society could be created. Her father, the bravest man she ever knew, hoped for such a world, but her life experiences told her about the impossibility. Yet, despite her doubts, she wanted it. She wanted a paradise, a place where she could finally be the woman her father wanted her to be, a greater person, a kinder person.

The rain left the skies of the valley and droplets that were left behind sparkled like diamonds under the gaze of dawn.

The jewels of fragile glass sparkled in tresses of grasslands, in silver lines of spider webs and the abodes of dawn singers.

The wind rose in the valley carrying the fresh, earthy scent of forest and beat against two women walking with a horse on an unpaved road, causing their coats to whip slightly to its cold howling gusts.

"You didn't sleep well last night, didn't you?" Kiara asked, noticing dark circles under Penelope's eyes.

"I move from one dangerous place to another, yet my body still rejects anything but a comfortable bed. Do you have some water?" She asked, rubbing her eyes to wipe away the drowsiness. Kiara offered her a waterskin and penelope gladly took it.

"I am still surprised that you agreed to tell me your story. Which reminds me, I didn't even properly introduce myself while I try to pry open yours." Kiara did not include trust in her guidebook for survival, yet Penelope had something about her that Kiara couldn't quite pinpoint. Something that made her trustworthy. It made her comfortable at the same time question her sanity.

"As you know, my name is penelope, but my surname is something you may have heard. I am the bastard of Duke Eisenkshaya." heard that name: memories sprouted in kiara's head.

"Demetrius, Demetrius, what a prick," Kiara muttered to herself.

"Ah, you have met him," Penelope spoke with a hint of a smile on her rosy lips.

"Despite his unpleasant behavior, I feel a sense of indebtedness towards him because he raised me together with his lawful children. He taught me the skills of sword fighting and assassination from the best masters of Tenalast, and he also provided me with an education that paved the way for my flourishing career as a historian and a biographer."

Kiara beheld the loquacious woman walking beside her, and then Penelope's countenance became rosy.

"I did it again, didn't I?" Penelope said.

"I don't mind. Go on, tell me, why do you dread it?" Kiara lied, and Penelope's countenance turned from rosy to normal.

She took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts.

"I have a strong interest in people, even those who may seem ordinary. Every person has a mix of good and bad qualities, and I enjoy exploring how they present themselves and their deeds. While I may create a polished version for my clients, I also keep a raw and truthful account just for myself. "

Noticing kiara's frown, she immediately added. "However, concerning you, my motivation to write is not that of beneficiary to a patron, but to truly comprehend and grasp who you are. I don't have any desire to compromise your privacy. I for once don't have to feel dread to whitewash a person. Once I'm finished, I'll give it to you to read and do whatever you want with it. "

When she finished listening to penelope's words, Kiara's mind raced with questions, doubts, and fears. Memories of screams, tears, and bloodshed flooded back with clarity. She didn't want to pay the price of remembering. Yet, a part of her wanted to comply rather than wither like ember in the ashes. As they continued to walk, Kiara thought about it. She pondered about the possibility of some sense of closure. Her silent brooding was interrupted by a question.

"Tell me about how you met my father. I know you saved my brother on the battlefield, but what about my father?" Kiara's mood went sour as she recalled the event.

"Your father gave a nod to a brutal massacre in a vanara settlement to plunder the resources, and he hired me to safeguard him from a vanara assassin who was seeking revenge." Kiara bluntly answered.

When penelope heard these words, there was a silence. Followed by the acceptance of reality her heart already knew. For a few minutes, she remained silent until another question popped in her head.

"Who was this vanara assassin that he needed protection from?" Penelope asked, her mood turned normal.

"He was a man that wanted to die. He witnessed the massacre at a young age and the vengeance had consumed him. Bad things happened by his hand and bad things happened to him. He was very young and very angry. In the end, his vengeance bought him nothing but misfortune," Kiara replied and penelope noticed a subtle crease appearing between kiara's eyebrows, followed by a tired sigh.

The silence followed and the two women and their horse reached the town of penbara, sprawled on both sides of a river akin to ribbon of silver that cut through the town chasing the sea at the end of the continent.

Within the walls pf penbra, buildings of stone and wood huddled close together, adjoining the narrow streets and alleyways. The town had a utilitarian and balanced look, with everything in their proper place. The two descended from the hill that overlooked the town and traveled to the entrance where the gate and stone wall, casted a long shadow on the grassy plains that surrounded their humble town.

They two passed by the gates and felt the peace and tranquility. People went about their tasks quietly, no shouting or screaming that usually loom, except for the giggling of little children playing by the bank of the river.

"It's a good place for introspection. People here are friendly and do not impose. I lived here for a few days now they ignored my existence." Penelope declared.

"I dealt with curious people before. I can handle them just fine." Kiara replied matter-of-factly.

"We need to take a proper bath before breakfast, no offence, but you smell awful." Penelope added. Kiara didn't bother to argue. She was stinky after weeks on the roads.

The two-story inn had white walls, and a shingled roof, with a porch that provided shade for those who wanted to sit and relax. The sign above the door, which read "Silent Dragon," creaked in the early morning breeze. When the two women stepped inside, their senses were soothed by the fresh aroma of freshly baked cakes and the warmth of the burning hearth w washed over them, they withstood the cold winter breath that assaulted them.

"I was worried about you, Lady Eisenkshaya," said the barkeep, a middle-aged woman with silver hair and the pale skin of a typical tenalastian.

The inn was empty save for one man sitting in a corner. His fair hair and olive complexion were a sign that he came from Westerlis, and the dragonfly brooch on his doublet suggested he was a bard.

"Oh, I was stuck in the storm, but luckily I had a companion to protect me from any dangers. She will stay here with me and I'll be paying for her expenses."

Frieda, the barkeep, saw Kiara and introduced herself, but kiara paid her no attention as her gaze lingered on the man.

"Do you know that man?" asked penelope.

"I could really use a good soak and some relaxation. We should go to a bathhouse."

Before she could leave the bard had met her gaze, and there was a silence between them, unspoken words hung in the air and his eyes did not water, but there were silent tears. The cold reply of kiara's gaze cut him sharper than any knife and that ended any attempts at talking to her.

Kiara eased herself into the steaming bath, feeling the heat of the water enveloping her and soothing her tense muscles. Eventually, she took it easy and let go of her stress, allowing her body to descend into the relaxing warmth. Penelope was with her and had noticed the scars that were etched on kiara's bare back, but she did not ask her about it, noticing her discomfort.

"I don't feel comfortable, can you?" Kiara asled, her voice had a trace of vulnerability. Penelope understood and turned around, facing the walls, and cleansed herself.

Penelope, after the bath, had given kiara one of her dresses, which kiara took not without a protest, arguing about how impractical it was for her to fight wearing a dress, but eventually relented as there was nothing to wear and the impossibility of fighting in a town that imposed no threats.

Kiara stepped out of the changing rooms wearing a simple cotton dress with detailed embroidery, and it looked striking in her frame.

Penelope approached Kiara slowly, taking in the sight.

"You look beautiful," she said softly, her voice low and almost reverent, and then she immediately added. "Not that you didn't look beautiful before or anything." Kiara did not show, but, she admired the emerald dress. It wasn't too fancy nor too simple; it was the perfect balance.

"Now about that bard. He's going to perform tonight and if you don't want to see him, you don't have to. We can go somewhere else for the night." Kiara crossed her arms and then averted her gaze as she made her way to the room assigned to her, and before closing the door, she said. "I don't mind."

"I wouldn't disturb you. So sleep as long as you like," Penelope said.

The night came as the sun embraced its berth and the moon gently awoke, its luminous grandeur grew as the river of time flowed. Soon the nocturnal wind howled like a wolf and its invisible fingers grasped at the trees and shook them as if it were a mischievous child.

Silent Dragon inn was illuminated by blinking lights, and its patrons relished the warmth of the roaring fireplace as the night set in. The crowd inside was boisterous, betraying the serene visage they painted for the outsiders, for they waited patiently for the bard to regale them with songs and tales of heroism and adventure.

The bard perched on the stool waited for the one that his heart desires so. Kiara descended the stairs, and the bard gaped at her,. Her gaze did not meet his. Instead, it lingered on her companion, who saved her a seat.

The bard strummed his lute, and patrons save for kiara paid the attention to the sweet melody. The bard took a deep breath, closed his eyes and began.

"In the cruel winter, I saw you," As he sang, the bard noticed Kiara's attention turn towards him, her expression revealing a blend of indignation, astonishment, and a hint of sentimentality.

"And the cold has withered, Spring had bloomed, turning my cold heart aglow," He continued, his voice was gentle and melancholic, the chords of the lute matched with every word he sang.

"If I linger in misery, longing for the spring, with a calm heart, I'll call for you, my moonlight." He sang the chorus with passion and deftly moved his fingers over the strings of his lute.

"I'll live for you, I'll burn for you, As you light my path, with your light so pale," he sang, his voice filled with energy.

"If I wander in the darkness, Lost without a sight, with your pure pale light, you'll be my moonlight." the crowd gasped, and some even shed a tear listening to his lovely, lovely voice.

"In the cruel winter, I saw you, And the cold has withered, Spring had bloomed, turning my cold heart aglow."

Penelope was completely enchanted by the bard's voice. She couldn't help but mouth the words, "so beautiful."

"If I ever linger, in misery, longing for the spring, with a calm heart, I'll call for you, my moonlight"

The bard captivated everyone who was listening, even the one that scorned him so.

"In the darkest of nights, lost in my sorrow, I'll call for you, my pure, pale light." He sang the final lines of the song with a whispering voice, making each word palpable.

There was a silence, and it passed with the scraping of a chair. The bard's eyes flickered open and caught the sight of Kiara withdrawing from the inn while her companion pursued her. Penelope ran out, but lost the sight of where kiara had gone. She kept running, and then suddenly felt a sense of intuition that urged her towards the river's edge. She trusted this unexplainable feeling and let it guide her, and penelope's trust lead to her. She found her listening to the river's song.

A song that bought tranquility and the singer's countenance was adorned by moon's falling. Under the pale silver light, tears were shed. Kiara's sadness seemed to have moved the trees themselves as they shed tears of their own.

To penelope that was a beautiful sight, a woman so beautiful under a glittering sky, her dark tresses shone under the celestial jewel. But to kiara, the moon was a mockery of her. When her tears fell, the moonlight shimmered brilliantly. When she suffered in a perpetual night, their shine never withered.

Penelope approached her, taking a gentle step, and she wrapped her arms around kiara with a tender touch. Warmth that bought by the embrace had offered a comfort she so desired that it made her afraid that it would be fleeting. She wept out her pain, and Penelope remained at her side, and made a silent promise of never departing.