*1 Week Later*
[POV: Eirlys Arcwright]
"Father," Eirlys said, her voice trembling with frustration, "we don't know where Caspian is. He's lost.....a-atleast do something to find him."
Lord Alaric Arcwright, seated behind his grand oak desk, barely looked up from the documents in his hand.
His expression was one of indifference, even disdain.
"Caspian?" he said, "Let him be. It's better this way. He was a weakling—a disgrace to the Arcwright name. Perhaps it's a blessing he's gone."
Eirlys' heart sank.
"What are you saying?!" she snapped, her voice breaking with disbelief.
"He's your son—my brother! How can you talk like this."
Alaric's icy gaze finally met hers, sharp and unyielding.
"He was a burden to this family, and now that burden is gone. Focus on what matters, Eirlys."
For the first time, Eirlys felt the sharp sting of betrayal from her own father.
She couldn't hold back anymore.
"If you won't do anything," she said, her voice trembling but firm, "then I will. I'll find him myself."
The room fell silent as her words echoed.
Alaric's surprise flickered for a moment, but Eirlys didn't wait for a response.
She turned and stormed out.
As she left the room.
"The Redmond family... it seems they've forgotten their place." Alaric said.
.
Eirlys arrived home exhausted and frustrated.
Her mind raced with questions and doubts.
How do I even begin to find him? Is he alive? Did someone take him? The uncertainty gnawed at her.
She decided to check on her mother, Eleana Arcwright, who had been confined to her room since Caspian's disappearance.
Eirlys entered quietly.
The room was dimly lit, and the air was thick with the scent of medicine.
Her mother sat by the window, her once vibrant presence now pale and frail.
"I killed him," Eleana whispered, her voice barely audible. "I killed him…"
The guilt had consumed her.
In the first few days, her condition had been so dire that they thought she wouldn't survive.
Now, she was improving slightly, but the weight of her regret was a constant.
Eirlys knelt by her mother, holding her trembling hands.
"Mother, stop blaming yourself. We don't even know what happened to him yet. He could still be alive."
Eleana didn't respond, her hollow eyes staring into the distance.
Then she heard voices outside the door.
Eirak and Jaxar, her brothers, stood leaning casually against the wall, talking loudly enough for anyone nearby to hear.
"Why is Mother acting like she cared about him?" Eirak sneered. "If she loved him so much, she wouldn't have let us beat him half to death every other day."
Jaxar laughed, his tone mocking.
"Exactly. Honestly, I miss him. He was such a good punching bag."
The two burst into cruel laughter.
Eirlys' rage boiled over. She stormed outside of the room.
SLAP!
Before either could react, her hand struck Jaxar across the face.
The force sent him sprawling to the ground.
"You disgusting cowards!" she spat.
Eirak turned to face her, but her hand was already raised.
Slap!
He stumbled back, his cheek red and swelling.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sound of her strikes echoed through the corridor as she hit them repeatedly, her fury unchecked.
For two hours, she let her anger pour out, her brothers too shocked and scared to fight back.
.
When she finally returned to her room, her hands were trembling, and her heart felt heavy.
The exhaustion of seven sleepless days hit her all at once.
She collapsed onto her bed, tears spilling onto the pillow as she whispered into the silence, "Please… please be safe, Caspian."
And then, for the first time in a week, she allowed herself to sleep
.....
[POV: Caspian Arcwright]
The voice of the news reporter echoed from the television screen mounted on the restaurant wall.
Caspian sat at a corner table, his hood pulled low to obscure his face.
The broadcast displayed a portrait of a young elf with regal features with pink hair and emerald green eyes.
Caspian stared at the screen, his mind racing.
So it's begun.
The event that shifts the balance of power in the elven continent.
"Are you lost, child?"
Caspian turned sharply, startled out of his thoughts.
A waiter stood beside him, smiling gently.
"No," Caspian replied, masking his unease. "My parents are outside."
The waiter nodded, unfazed.
"What would you like to eat?"
"Just bring me the cheapest meal," Caspian said.
The waiter gave him a sympathetic look before leaving.
Caspian returned his gaze to the street outside, watching as elves went about their day.
The restaurant was modest, its glass walls offering a clear view of the bustling city.
His stomach growled softly.
The coins he'd obtained from selling his two gold rings were only enough to feed him for few days more.
Caspian's thoughts turned back to the news. Zareth El'leather , the elven prince... kidnapped.
He had read this part in the novel before, though experiencing it firsthand made it feel far more real.
The Old Faction did this to weaken King Eloran's authority.
Zareth's kidnapping was the first major turning point in the story.
It was a calculated move by the Old Faction.
They hated the king's reforms—especially his push to treat all races as equals.
By taking the prince, they wanted to destabilize the king's authority and force him to backtrack on his policies.
But things hadn't gone as they planned.
The Old Faction wouldn't keep Zareth alive for long.
In the novel, his body was found days later, mutilated beaten by beasts.
It had been the final act of defiance from the traditionalists, but it had also sealed their fate.
What followed was chaos. The Modern Faction rallied against the Old Faction, accusing them of the murder.
The king's position became precarious, and his rule might have collapsed entirely if not for a twist of fate.
The king's young daughter, Vynessa El'leather, only ten years old, awakened a rare and powerful bloodline.
Bloodline of Sylvanheart Ascendancy
Her awakening was seen as a divine sign, a blessing that solidified the king's reforms and crushed the Old Faction's influence.
Caspian tapped his fingers against the table, his mind restless.
I know what happens next.
Zareth is still alive—for now.
He wasn't planning to get involved.
His goal was simple: reach the Human Association in the elven capital, the city just beyond this one.
If he could contact them, they'd help him return to the human continent.
The waiter returned with a modest meal—bread, soup, and a small piece of fruit.
Caspian mumbled his thanks and began eating, though his appetite was thin.
The food was warm.
Saving Zareth... that's not my job. The novel made it clear: the prince dies, and his death shifts the balance of power.
'Firstly focus on your survival'
Still, the knowledge weighed on him.
He clenched his jaw and focused on finishing his meal. His goal was clear.
He didn't have the strength to interfere with this story, even if he wanted to.
As he left the restaurant, he pulled his hood lower over his face.
The streets were crowded.
The capital wasn't far now, just a two hour travel by taxi at most.
One step closer, he thought.
One step closer to leaving this place behind.
______