Elis stood near the edge of the crowded train platform, his striking figure impossible to ignore. Despite wearing plain clothes that seemed to blend in with the crowd, his sharp features and steady gaze drew lingering stares from passersby. Women exchanged curious looks, some sneaking shy glances his way, while others openly admired his handsome profile. Even men couldn't help but notice his presence.
But Elis was oblivious to the attention. His focus was fixed on a more pressing matter finding a way to reach someone who had been a constant thread in his life, someone he believed still lived near the place they'd once spoken about. Yet as he stood there, observing the chaos of the bustling train station, the sheer strangeness of modern travel overwhelmed him.
In his time, travel was simple: horses, carriages, a map, and intuition. Now, giant machines barreled through the station, their loud horns and flashing lights disorienting. People rushed about, carrying sleek devices and boarding these strange mechanical beasts with practiced ease. Elis felt out of place, his confusion masked by his composed demeanor.
After a moment of hesitation, he noticed an elderly man sitting on a bench nearby. The man had a kind face, framed by a neatly trimmed beard that had turned snowy white with age. He wore a simple shirt and a worn jacket, and he seemed far less hurried than the throngs of people around him. Taking a deep breath, Elis approached him.
"Excuse me," Elis said, his voice deep but soft, tinged with the careful politeness of someone unused to asking for help. "Could you guide me? I'm trying to reach Eira Peaks."
The old man looked up, his weathered face breaking into a curious smile. "Eira Peaks?" he repeated, leaning forward slightly. His voice carried the gravelly warmth of experience, and his eyes twinkled with intrigue. "You mean the mountain with the blue ice?"
Elis nodded, his posture straight and respectful. "Yes. I need to get there."
The old man, who introduced himself as Pinto, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I'll be honest, not many folks head that way anymore. It's remote, harsh, not exactly a tourist spot." His gaze lingered on Elis, as if trying to read him. "Why're you going there, if you don't mind me asking?"
Elis hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's... a personal matter," he said eventually, his tone guarded but sincere. "Someone important to me might be nearby."
Pinto's frown softened, and he nodded slowly. "Fair enough. Everyone's got their reasons." He glanced up at the schedule board hanging above them, its flickering lights displaying an array of destinations. "Well, you're in luck. I'm heading close to that area myself. If you don't mind a little company, I can guide you as far as the junction. After that, it's a straight shot to Eira Peaks."
Relief washed over Elis, though he kept his gratitude understated. He bowed his head at Old man slightly. "Thank you. I'd appreciate that."
Pinto chuckled, waving a hand. "No need to thank me yet. The train hasn't even arrived!" He stood slowly, leaning on his walking stick as he straightened up. "Let's head over to the right platform. It's been a while since I had a travel companion, and you look like someone with some interesting stories to tell."
Elis followed Pinto, walking at a measured pace to match the older man's careful steps. As they navigated through the crowd, Pinto glanced at Elis out of the corner of his eye. "You're not from around here, are you?" he asked casually.
"You could say that," Elis replied, his tone neutral. "The world's changed a lot since... since I was last here."
Pinto hummed thoughtfully; his curiosity clearly piqued. "You talk like a man out of time. Like one of those old legends where the hero's been asleep for centuries and wakes up to a world he doesn't recognize."
Elis's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Maybe I am," he said, his words carrying a quiet weight.
Pinto chuckled. "Well, if you're a legend, don't expect me to go easy on you. I'll still make you carry my bags if I get tired!"
Elis couldn't help but laugh softly at the remark, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. There was something grounding about Pinto's humor his blend of warmth and bluntness reminded Elis of simpler times, of people who spoke plainly and without pretense.
When they reached the platform, the train roared into view, its sleek metal body glinting in the light. Elis observed the mechanical marvel with quiet fascination, his gaze tracing the smooth lines and intricate details. It was nothing like the carriages he once knew, but he found himself admiring the ingenuity behind it.
"First time on a train, huh?" Pinto remarked, noticing Elis's awe.
"Yes," Elis admitted, stepping into the carriage behind Pinto. "It's... remarkable."
"Remarkable, he says," Pinto mused as he lowered himself into a seat. "Wait until you see the ticket prices. That'll take the shine off it."
Elis settled into the seat across from Pinto, glancing out the window as the train began to move. The city blurred into a haze of colors and shapes, and Elis found himself both mesmerized and uneasy at the speed. Pinto, meanwhile, leaned back comfortably, watching Elis with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
"So," Pinto said after a while, breaking the silence. "What's waiting for you at Eira Peaks? If you don't mind an old man prying."
Elis hesitated, his gaze still on the passing scenery. "Answers," he said simply. "And perhaps... a chance to fix something that was broken."
Pinto nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. "Well, son, I hope you find what you're looking for."
Kiad leaned back in his office chair, the polished glass table in front of him reflecting the faint sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His assistant, a composed young woman named Ava, stood nearby, her tablet in hand, waiting for his instructions. Kiad's usually sharp eyes were dim with frustration, and a deep crease had formed between his brows.
The headlines flashing across his phone screen didn't help. Every major outlet seemed to be painting him as a heartless monster, a billionaire too consumed with power to show basic decency.
"Kiad: A Cold Fiancé? The Woman He Left Behind."
"Ross Heiress Suffers Alone While Future Husband Stays Silent."
He swiped the screen away with a sigh. It wasn't that he didn't care far from it. Guilt gnawed at him for not visiting Luna earlier, especially after hearing she'd been discharged from the hospital. But something held him back. Perhaps it was the weight of their last conversation, the cold detachment with which he had laid out his conditions for their marriage.
The memory of her pale face, her eyes filled with quiet resignation, haunted him. He had expected defiance or anger, but her acceptance had cut him deeper than he cared to admit.
"Ava," he said finally, his voice low but firm. "Schedule a meeting with Luna. Tomorrow, if possible."
Ava raised an eyebrow, surprised. She knew better than to question him outright, but she'd been working with Kiad long enough to notice when something was bothering him. "Understood, Sir," she replied, making a note on her tablet. "Do you want this to be informal or—"
"Official," Kiad interrupted, his tone clipped. "I don't want it to seem... personal. Just make it happen."
Ava nodded, though she couldn't hide the slight frown tugging at her lips. "I'll confirm her availability and get back to you."
Kiad leaned forward, running a hand through his neatly styled hair. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on him. As much as he tried to focus on damage control and the media frenzy, there was something more personal eating at him a sense of failure, of having let Luna down in ways he couldn't yet articulate.
Adding to his frustration was Selena, his on-again, off-again girlfriend, whose presence in his life had become more of a liability than a comfort. She had always thrived on the attention their relationship brought, and now, with the press turning against him, she seemed determined to stir the pot further.
His phone buzzed just as Ava exited the room, and he grimaced when he saw Mireille's name flashing on the screen. He hesitated before answering.
"Kiad," her voice purred, syrupy and sharp all at once, "I've been trying to reach you all day. Are you ignoring me?"
"I'm busy, Selena," Kiad replied, his tone exasperated. "I have a lot to deal with right now."
"Oh, of course," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Too busy to talk to me, but not too busy to set up meetings with that little fiancée of yours."
Kiad's jaw tightened. Selena's jealousy over Luna had been a recurring issue, though he couldn't entirely blame her. Their relationship, while complicated, had always been built on an unspoken understanding one that had been disrupted the moment his family pushed him toward this engagement.
"This isn't about you," he said evenly, though the effort to keep his voice calm was evident. "It's about handling the situation. The media's a mess, and I can't afford more bad press."
"Handling the situation," Selena repeated mockingly. "That's all she is to you, isn't it? A situation to handle."
Kiad didn't reply immediately, his silence only fueling Selena's frustration. "You know, Kiad, you're so good at shutting people out. Maybe that's why everyone thinks you're heartless."
He clenched his fist, his patience wearing thin. "I don't have time for this, Selena. If you called to argue, find someone else to vent to."
Before she could respond, he ended the call and tossed the phone onto the desk. He leaned back, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Mireille's words stung more than he cared to admit, not because of her tone but because they mirrored what the media and perhaps even Luna might think of him.
Later that evening, as Kiad stood by the window of his penthouse apartment, gazing out at the glittering city skyline, he couldn't shake the unease settling in his chest. For all his wealth and influence, for all the control he wielded over his life, this was something he couldn't manage with contracts or strategies.
His engagement to Luna had started as a transaction a carefully orchestrated move to secure alliances and power. Yet, somewhere along the way, it had become more complicated. Her quiet strength, her willingness to endure despite the injustices she faced, stirred something in him that he didn't fully understand.
And now, as he prepared to meet her, he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Was he seeking redemption? Closure? Or something more?
As the night deepened, Kiad resolved to face whatever awaited him with Luna. It was time to confront not only her but the part of himself he had been avoiding for far too long.