Pointing up into the dreamy blue sky, an eagle was circling overhead.
'He' wondered, "I want the bird."
Grabbing at the air, the baby tried with all his might to reach for the bird. Unfortunately, 'he' couldn't grasp it; the bird was too far up. How could 'he' grab the bird?
The baby frowned.
As 'he' looked away, blood splattered across 'his' face. Someone wiped it away for 'him' as 'he' began to cry. A ruthless battle was raging nearby.
A woman was holding 'him' as she ran. Her breaths were heavy, full of fear. Pant. Pant. Pant. She kept glancing back and forth, and with each look, the shadows in the clouds covered her vision in black even more.
"Fuck fuck fuck Jahard. I-I never wanted to be here. I should've left as soon as I saw it," she murmured.
The baby grew curious about what the woman was saying.
She sprinted across the grassy field, arcs of land dyed in shadow. Ahead, she caught sight of a building. Its cornerstones glowed with a strange, bright light, and white banners waved proudly, symbolizing freedom and power. It was the Kingdom of The Hearts.
The kingdom neared closer, each stone in its high walls radiating an unknown glow that seemed to push back the shadows as it seemed they had noticed the shadows approaching. The woman, clutching the child tightly, gasped as her steps began to slow, her strength disappearing as if the shadows themselves were draining her life. She couldn't see anymore.
The women stumbled, but something shifted in the air—a ripple, as faint wings brushed against women. The shadows recoiled, twisting as they dispersed, revealing a figure at the edge of the path. Tall and draped in robes the color of midnight, his eyes glowed a haunting violet. It was a Knight of the Hearts.
His gentle gaze settled on the woman. "You've traveled far," he murmured, his voice soothing against her fear. "It seems you carry something precious."
The woman, frantic and breathless, struggled to find words. She glanced down at the child in her arms, his eyes baby blue. "I don't understand," she whispered. "They're...they're coming for him, and I don't even know why."
The Knight's gaze softened as he knelt, peering at the child. "Regardless of the reason they're chasing him, I'll help you reach the kingdom walls," he said, his tone calm but firm.
'He' remained silent throughout. The Knight held out his hand, and an aura of warmth spread from his touch to hers, soothing her, she was able to see now.
The Knight's eyes turned a deep, cleansing gold as if he were purifying the world with his gaze. "Time is running thin, from the information I know, you can't maintain a long distance. Possessing the Shadow Magnus Fragment means you're choosing a dangerous, short life, unfortunate indeed," he warned, his voice emotionless.
The shadows paused their assault, realizing its uselessness and silence enveloped the land as the darkness began to draw back, retreating into nothingness. The Knight stood still for a few seconds before disappearing.
As they passed through the Kingdom's gates, the women noticed the shadows seemed to vanish entirely, dissolving in the bright light cast from the towering walls. The woman, still clutching the child, looked around in awe. The Kingdom of the Hearts was alive with color and sound; children darted through the streets, their laughter mixing with the music and chatter of a vibrant festival. At the city's center, a tall, gleaming pillar—Centro Del Cuore—cast a warm, golden light, a beacon of hope for all who sought shelter within these walls.
But before she could take in more, her gaze was drawn to a figure approaching. Tall and elegant, with hair the color of sunlit gold and a golden retriever gaze, he cut a striking image in his chrome-detailed armor. A sword hung by his side, gleaming in the light like the edge of dawn. Roseiral's heart beat faster as he neared.
"Welcome, madam,"
he greeted, his voice smooth but filled with authority.
"I am Liliac, head-chief of *redacted*. I understand you've come from the north. And… it seems you carry someone of particular interest."
His gaze flicked to the child, who was softly sleeping despite the chaos.
Roseiral hesitated, gripping the child a bit tighter.
"Yes… I—I'm Roseiral, from Portijica,"
she stammered, her voice catching as she remembered her village.
"There was—"
She faltered, a shiver running through her.
"It was terrible down there. I don't know why…"
Her words broke, images of destruction flashing before her eyes.
Liliac's expression softened slightly.
"Would you mind telling me more?"
he asked, though his voice remained steady.
Roseiral glanced around, the memories still raw, her voice growing quiet.
"I don't… I can't speak of it here,"
she whispered, barely audible.
"I don't want anyone else to know what happened there. If they knew what happened to my village it would cause an uproar. Please, it's—too much."
Liliac's expression was unreadable, his silence stretching until he gave a soft smile as he pointed towards the crowd. Startled, Roseiral looked around, realizing that none of the bustling townsfolk seemed to notice him—or her. For a moment, it was as if they stood in a world of their own, untouched by the crowd around them.
Turning back to her, he murmured,
"You must have such a soft heart for you to be thinking about other people in this situation. I can't see what you are going through right now but know this: what you witnessed in your village goes beyond the ordinary troubles of our world. Unnatural powers that people use for evil and their justifications."
His gaze darkened, and for a moment, revealing something more dangerous underneath.
"You deserve peace, a choice, and a chance to live freely, without fear of the powers that lurk beyond. You have two options, I hope you pick the right one"
She was still processing his words when, without warning, he moved swiftly, pressing a hand near her head. Roseiral's vision began to blur, her strength faltering, and just as she opened her mouth to protest, darkness overtook her.
With a practiced ease, Liliac caught her as she slipped from consciousness, his gaze shifting briefly to the child still cradled in her arms. "Things might start getting interesting." And then, like a shadow himself, he disappeared from the lively streets, unseen and unnoticed by any who passed by.