From his window, Varo watched as a small number of people began to walk the streets, their footsteps weary as they emerged from the day's work. The sky hung cool and partly cloudy, casting a soft light over the town. Varo had just been released from the hospital, still bearing the weight of his recovery. Beside him, Bitu had something unresolved stirred within him. He broke the silence, the moment was right to share a story from his past—one that he believed might shape Varo's future in ways yet unseen.
"When Prince Nath realized how badly things had spiraled out of control," Bitu began, his voice steady but strained, "he screamed for the execution to be stopped. In front of everyone, he held a dagger to his throat and confessed his guilt."
Varo's eyes widened. "He confessed? Just like that?"
Bitu nodded. "Yeah. It was desperate, chaotic. His actions bought us a little time, but they made things even worse. The prince's public confession humiliated the king in a way that couldn't be overlooked. Someone had to pay for the disgrace. Blood was demanded. And of course, it was Sir Quin who became the scapegoat. The entire situation was ridiculous—senseless—but that's how politics work. Someone always has to take the fall."
Bitu's fists clenched, as he recounted that fateful night. "We were locked in the dungeon, and it seemed like all hope was lost. But then, in the dead of night, Quin's squire and the maid who cared for Beryl risked everything to save us. They slipped into the dungeon with a plan, and we seized the chance. We fled through the open fields under cover of darkness, our breaths ragged with fear."
He paused. "We were so close to freedom when the guards spotted us. The alarm bells shattered the quiet night, and arrows rained down on us. Sir Quin and his squire fought with everything they had—brave, unwavering, determined. Meanwhile, the maid led Leora and me through hidden paths, guiding us as far as she could. Her hands shook, but her courage never faltered."
Unfortunately the maid got caught in a bear trap, Leora refused to keep going, so she stayed behind and began to tend to her. I- I had to rescue Beryl, and they understood.
I rushed to maid's house and found Beryl waiting for me In the porch. I ran, clutching Beryl's hand as we fled the kingdom under the cover of night. Every breath burned, every step felt like it might be our last, but we kept moving. We had to. For a week, we wandered aimlessly, surviving on sheer will and scraps we could scavenge. Exhaustion weighed heavily on us, yet I couldn't afford to stop—not when Beryl's life depended on me.
Then, after days of despair, we crossed paths with Leora again. She was different—there was a darkness to her, a dim of gloom I hadn't seen before. Despite everything, her face lit up the moment she saw us, and she embraced us like we were long-lost family.
It was during that reunion that she told us about her new vision: the Lampros Foundation Initiative. Her eyes shimmered with determination as she spoke of rebuilding, of creating something that could stand strong against the darkness we had endured.
Still, something gnawed at me. I had to know. "Leora... what happened to Sir Quin? And the maid?"
Her expression shifted. She didn't say a word, but the sorrow etched across her face told me everything I needed to know. My heart sank. They were gone. Sacrificed so we could live.
Leora handed me something—a letter with the king's seal. It was an apology, an official decree granting us protection. I stared at the parchment, the weight of its words heavy in my hands. I didn't know what had happened in the palace after we fled, but somehow, Leora had convinced the king to acknowledge his wrongs. Yet, even with that decree, the loss of Sir Quin and the maid hung over us like a shadow. Their sacrifice had bought us peace, and I vowed never to forget it.
Varo looked at Bitu, his gaze heavy with unspoken sorrow, a reflection of the sadness they both carried. The silence between them was thick, until Bitu continued.
"The point is," Bitu began, "when you try to save someone, there's always a high price to pay. Especially when it's the right thing to do. And Leora… she embodies that. She saved Beryl. She saved me. She saved Proxima and Con. And now, she's saved you. Every time, she's faced that cost without hesitation. Prince Nath—he's the king now—and though it annoys me, he still feels guilty about what he did. His willingness to set things right, no matter the cost, is one of our greatest advantages. Even if it's hard to trust, he has been pulling strings in our favour."
Bitu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Before Varo could respond, the bell above the bakery door jingled. A group of teenagers entered, their laughter and chatter filling the room with a lively energy. The sun was dipping low, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The day was shifting into dusk, and Bitu, sensing the change, began to rise from his seat.
As he stood, he turned to Varo one last time. "The powerful monarch Leora faced… he was stronger than the entire government of Naruina. And yet, she stood her ground. If we're going to make it through what's coming, we'll need that same courage."
"I feel like it's really important for you to understand that," Bitu said as he stood, gathering the remaining pastries he had purchased. He carefully placed them into a paper bag, his movements slow but deliberate. "Come on now, let's go home."
Bitu's eyes held a quiet resolve, and without another word, he made his way to the door, leaving Varo to understand his story.
Varo got up, and quietly followed him. On their way out, he glanced at the attendant behind the counter. "It's nice to see you again, Jun," he said with a warm smile.
"Nice to see you too," Liz replied, returning the smile.
The two stepped out of the bakery, greeted by the vibrant energy of the bustling street. The town had fully awakened with the approaching dusk, its streets alive with motion and sound. Cable cars clattered along their tracks, ferrying passengers through the town, while others pedaled bicycles, weaving through the crowd. Rickshaws and horse-drawn carriages passed by, their wheels clattering against the cobblestones. In the distance, the mournful hoot of a train echoed through the air, blending into the rhythmic hum of the town. The people moving in harmony with their surroundings created a visually stunning scene.
Bitu turned to Varo, noticing the amazement in his eyes. "Quite the sight, right?" he said before leading him away from the lively streets. They walked for a while, then off the main road onto a quieter, bushy path that wound its way up a large hill.
As they climbed, the air grew cooler, and the sounds of the bustling town faded into a distant murmur. At the top of the hill stood a manor, its presence imposing yet inviting. The higher they climbed, the more the manor could be seen, its sheer size becoming more apparent. By the time they reached the top, Varo stood surprised, taking in the sight.
A tall brick fence surrounded the building, and a lanky metal gate creaked as Bitu pushed it open. Beyond the gate, the compound was vast, with a well-kept lawn stretching across the grounds. Off to the side, beside the manor, was a smaller building—a shed. Its doors were wide open, and from within, Beryl waved at them.
Bitu smile. "Looks like she's been waiting for us," he said, his voice filled with warmth.
Varo nodded, his earlier amazement now replaced with a sense of belonging.
"Welcome back, big brother Bitu! Is this our new brother?" came a cheerful voice from a young girl now standing between Varo and Bitu.
Varo flinched in surprise. How had she gotten there so quickly? He hadn't seen or heard a thing. It was as if she had appeared out of thin air. His heart skipped a beat, and he took a step back, unsure if he should be amazed or concerned.
Bitu, seemed completely unfazed. With a warm smile, he nodded. "Yes, he is," he said, patting Proxima. "Varo, meet Proxima."
Proxima grinned up at Varo, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement. "Hi, Varo! I'm Proxima," she said brightly.