The sun's rays peeked through the small holes in the shelter, casting light onto Kieth's face. Morning had arrived, and the warmth of the sunlight felt comforting, like a gentle embrace amidst the cold.
His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light as he slowly sat up. He looked down at his hands and spotted Serel nestled in the pile of clothes, her small form barely visible except for her steady, rhythmic breathing. A smile crossed his lips as he leaned closer. Carefully, almost reverently, he began unwrapping her, as if unveiling a fragile gift.
When her face came into view, her expression was serene, her cheeks slightly rosy from the cold. Kieth reached out and lightly placed a finger on her cheek. It was then he noticed his own hand.
His fingers were unnaturally pale, almost bone-white, and when he tried to flex them, they didn't respond. A wave of panic surged through him as he realized he couldn't feel them either—they were stiff, frozen to the core. His breathing quickened, but before he could dwell on it, Serel stirred.
She opened her eyes groggily, blinking against the sunlight. "Papa…" she murmured softly, her voice thick with sleep. She smiled up at him before throwing her small arms around his neck, burying her face into him.
Though his hands were numb, Kieth wrapped his arms around her gently, holding her close. "Good morning," he whispered, his voice quiet and strained.
He slowly got to his feet, lifting Serel and placing her down on the ground. The cold air bit at his exposed skin, but he ignored it, focusing instead on bundling Serel in as many layers of clothing as he could find. Once she was warm, he glanced at the entrance. Snow had piled up overnight, blocking their exit.
With stiff fingers, he began clearing it away. His movements were slow and painful, but he pressed on until the path was clear. The cold wind outside stung his face as they stepped out into the vast, snow-covered wilderness.
"Papa, when will we go home?" Serel's small voice broke the silence, her words carrying a weight that he wasn't sure he could bear.
He hesitated, his steps faltering slightly. "Soon," he said finally. "We'll find a better home."
"Evelyn too?"
The name hit him like a knife. His chest tightened, the ache spreading with every heartbeat. He forced himself to answer. "Evelyn… found her own home. She doesn't want to stay with us."
"Oh, okay," Serel replied with a small shrug, her voice light and untroubled.
Kieth envied her innocence. Children could move on so easily, while the weight of Evelyn's absence seemed to crush him.
He turned his focus to the horizon, squinting against the sunlight. After walking for what felt like hours, he noticed something—a trail in the snow. Fresh tracks, left by a carriage and horses, with footprints scattered around them. His heart quickened. Someone was nearby.
He picked up Serel, cradling her securely. "What's happening, Papa?" she asked, her voice curious but calm.
"We need to move faster," he said, his tone firm. He started running, his feet crunching against the snow.
The pain in his legs came quickly, sharp and unrelenting. He gritted his teeth and grunted, his breaths growing labored.
"Are you okay, Papa?" Serel asked, her small face filled with concern.
"Yeah," he lied, slowing his pace to a jog. His legs screamed in protest, but the sight of the tracks drove him forward.
After what felt like hours of running and jogging, he finally saw them. A carriage stood in the distance, surrounded by men on horseback. Gathering what strength he had left, he called out.
"Hey! Wait—!" His voice cracked, his throat burning from the effort.
The group turned toward him instantly. Weapons were drawn, their sharp tips glinting in the sunlight. A bearded man, dressed in a white-and-gold uniform, stepped forward.
"WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE?" he bellowed, his voice carrying over the wind.
Kieth raised his hands weakly, his legs barely supporting him. "I… I need help," he stammered. "Me and my daughter… we haven't eaten in days."
The man's eyes narrowed. "THAT DOESN'T CONCERN HER HIGHNESS. GET OUT OF OUR SIGHT."
"Now, now," another voice chimed in. A younger man stepped forward, his tone softer. "Look at him. He's barely standing, and he has a kid with him. Have a heart, Captain."
"Martinus," the captain snapped, glaring at the younger man. "Your soft tongue will get you executed someday."
Before the argument could escalate, the carriage door creaked open. A woman stepped out, her dark hair gleaming in the sunlight, her green eyes sharp and commanding. She was dressed in black and white, her presence striking.
"HER HIGHNESS IS SLEEPING," she said sharply. "WHAT IS THIS COMMOTION ABOUT?"
The captain pointed at Kieth, his expression flustered. "This boy stopped us, asking for help."
The woman's gaze shifted to Kieth, her expression softening. She hurried toward him, her steps light and quick.
"My goodness," she murmured. "What happened to you? You look like you've walked through hell." She turned her attention to Serel, who was clinging tightly to Kieth's chest. "Is this your child?"
Serel buried her face further into Kieth's chest, refusing to look at her.
"Wait, little one," the woman said gently. "You shouldn't do that. His clothes are filthy, and he reeks of blood."
"Sorry," Kieth muttered, his voice barely audible.
The woman sighed, her expression soft with pity. "Do you need some—"
"What's going on here?"
All heads turned as a taller woman stepped out of the carriage. Her dark red hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her crimson eyes seemed to glow against her pale skin. She moved with an air of authority, every step deliberate and commanding.
The queen's gaze fell on Kieth, her expression unreadable. "You. Get in the carriage."
The green-eyed woman stammered. "Y-your Majesty! Are you sure?"
"Does it seem like I'm not?" The queen's voice was calm but firm, leaving no room for argument.
The guards helped Kieth into the carriage, where he sat with Serel still in his arms. The green-eyed woman introduced herself as Paulina, her attention quickly shifting to Serel.
"What's your name?" she asked, tapping Serel's nose lightly.
"Serel!" the child said with a wide grin.
Kieth watched the interaction silently. Serel was laughing, her small voice bright and cheerful. But his heart felt heavy. The pain of Evelyn's loss weighed on him, her absence a constant reminder of his failure.
If I hadn't met her, he thought bitterly, maybe she would've lived a normal life…
He closed his eyes, leaning back in the carriage as the sound of Serel's laughter filled the space.
The queen, gazing out the carriage window, found her eyes drifting to Kieth. His long, unkempt hair framed a face marred by scars, barely hinting at what he once looked like. Blood-stained bandages wrapped his body, and his tattered clothes hung loosely on him. She could tell at a glance that the blood was his own. Though she didn't know the full extent of his suffering, she couldn't dismiss the possibility that he might be a spy.
And yet, there was something about him—a lost, almost childlike vulnerability in his demeanor. Her gaze shifted to Serel, whose smooth, unblemished face starkly contrasted Kieth's battered appearance. It was clear that, no matter what horrors he had endured, Kieth had gone to great lengths to protect the child. A flicker of respect stirred within her.
Wanting to clear some doubts, the queen finally spoke, her voice measured. "Are you from Thelaria?"
Kieth hesitated before answering. "No…" His tone was flat, and he offered no explanation.
"I see. Then where are you from?"
"I don't know," he replied after a moment. "I'm a traveler."
Recognizing his reluctance to share more, the queen decided not to press him further. "I only ask because, while you appear to be from Thelaria, your manner of speech aligns more with the people of Orynthar," she said.
Kieth gave no indication that he cared, his expression unchanging.
The queen sighed softly and moved on. "We'll reach Orynthar in a few hours. Until then, please wait and rest."
Kieth turned to her, his eyes sharp and probing despite his obvious exhaustion. "What are your true intentions?"
The queen blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his directness. "I'm trying to help you," she said simply.
"For free?" Kieth scoffed. "Don't give me that crap."
Paulina immediately bristled, scolding him. "Hey! She's the queen of Orynthar. Be grateful she gave you a ride!"
Kieth ignored her, his tone cold. "For free? Everyone wants something."
The queen's expression hardened, her voice growing icy. "Why do you insist on taking my kindness for granted?"
Kieth looked down, unwilling to believe her intentions were genuine.
After a moment of silence, the queen softened her tone slightly. "I won't lie. I do want something. I want to know what was happening in that forest. You were there when we found you."
"What happened yesterday?"
Kieth froze. His throat dried, and his breath quickened. Images of corpses, twisted trees, a massive, unblinking eye, and the crushed remains of a girl flooded his mind. His hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
The queen noticed his reaction and sighed, raising a hand to stop him from speaking. "No need," she said gently. "Don't say any more."
Her suspicions were already confirmed. Passing through the forest earlier, she had sensed something was deeply wrong. Kieth's response only validated her unease. For now, she decided to let the matter rest, giving him space as the carriage continued on its way.
Kieth finally succumbed to sleep, his body giving in to exhaustion as he allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability. He hadn't slept properly in days, not even in the relative safety of the village, fearing discovery. But now, lulled by the gentle rocking of the carriage and the warmth of the sun streaming in, he rested peacefully.
Serel, after an energetic bout of playing with Paulina, dozed off as well. She curled up next to Kieth, her head resting on his thigh, her small form radiating an innocence that contrasted sharply with his rugged, battle-worn appearance. The serene scene almost seemed out of place, as though borrowed from another life.
Paulina watched them quietly for a while before breaking the silence. "Your Highness, I don't believe they're spies," she said softly, her gaze lingering on the pair.
The queen nodded, her own expression contemplative. "Yes, I realize that as well."
"What are we going to do with them?" Paulina asked, a note of concern in her voice.
The queen's eyes flicked to Paulina and then back to Kieth and Serel. "We'll see," she replied. After a moment, noticing Paulina's somber expression, she added, "Don't worry. I won't let them become slaves or part of any ritual."
Paulina's face brightened with relief. She bowed her head respectfully. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
---
As Kieth slept, his mind plunged into a dream.
He found himself standing in a dark, oppressive room. Distant, cheerful voices—familiar yet taunting—reached his ears. Turning towards the sound, he saw a door. He approached it and peered through the keyhole. On the other side, Vasil, Rita, and Akane were laughing together, their faces lit with happiness.
Kieth's chest tightened as frustration and anger surged within him. He slammed his fist against the door and screamed, "WHERE ARE YOU GOING? COME BACK!"
The three turned to look at him, their smiles twisting into cruel mockeries. Their laughter grew louder, more derisive, as they pointed fingers at him.
"WHO ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?! COME BACK HERE, OR I'LL KILL YOU ALL! DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!" he roared, his voice raw with rage and desperation.
But their laughter only intensified.
Akane's voice cut through the cacophony, cold and detached. "How?"
Kieth blinked, confused. "What do you mean 'how'? Come here, and I'll fucking show you!"
Akane's expression darkened, her eyes empty. "Aren't you a cripple?"
Kieth froze, his breath hitching. He glanced down and saw his body—twisted and broken. His hands were mangled, his legs bent unnaturally. He tried to scream again, but pain tore through him.
The laughter continued, echoing endlessly, until Evelyn appeared in the distance. Hope flickered in Kieth's heart, but she didn't move to help him. Instead, she stood motionless, her face unreadable.
As he reached for her, a snowflake landed on his eye. The forest shifted into view—the same endless trees, bloodied and wrong. Above him, the massive, unblinking eye stared down. Its expression seemed to curl into a sinister smile before it began to descend, ready to crush him.
---
Kieth jolted awake with a scream, his body drenched in sweat. His eyes darted around wildly, taking in his surroundings.
Serel stirred beside him, still asleep. Kieth grabbed her instinctively, his hands trembling as he scanned the carriage. His heavy breathing filled the space, his heart pounding as though it might burst.
Paulina and the queen stared at him, startled.
"A nightmare, I suppose," the queen said calmly, her tone neutral but observant.
Kieth didn't respond, his breaths shallow and rapid as he cradled Serel protectively.
After a moment, the queen spoke again, her voice steady. "Well, we're here."
Kieth looked out the carriage window. Before him stretched the kingdom of Orynthar, its medieval-style houses sprawling across the horizon. Even from this distance, the city was a breathtaking sight. The sun shone brightly, casting golden rays over the white clouds and vivid blue sky.
For a fleeting moment, amidst the beauty of Orynthar, Kieth allowed himself a sliver of distraction from the darkness that plagued him.
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