Once upon a time, a woman spoke to a God about her dreams. She whispered them in prayers beneath the vast bright sky, where the sun cast its endless golden glow upon the lands. Her words showed a world full of light, where joy everlastingly ascended.
This God would listen. He loved and cherished her words. Those words were woven with hope like a tapestry of golden threads. The dreams she spoke of painted a paradise that was so radiant that God sighed in wonder.
Then, as he continued to listen to her, God thought.
What if these dreams she spoke of could become reality? The world would become a wondrous place just like the stories she spoke of.
With enthusiasm, the woman's eyes shimmered like twin stars. She clasped her hands together more tightly than before.
'The world could become a perfect world.'
God was moved by her yearning. Those beautiful dreams were God's reason for offering himself. A blessing that showered the land so that the dream would exist.
But mortals would later tell a different tale.
They would claim it was not a god she spoke to, but something else entirely.
A devil. A whispering specter who appeared in that woman's dream.
And so, instead of paradise, darkness spilled to the land of the living, twisting those dreams to a nightmare.
...
"Isn't this story a little bit odd, Vicente?" A voice broke the silence with smoothness, but edged with curiosity.
The speaker, with young features, but was an old man with silver-streaked hair and sharp eyes, shifted his gaze towards the child he held in his arms. He was speaking as if the child had listened.
"They refer to the woman here simply as woman, yet never once do they acknowledge her by name. Have they forgotten the name of the First Queen of their Empire?"
…
"I wonder, maybe, it was because she became a nightmare herself?"
…
The infant on the man's arms stirred, unaware of the weight this man spoke of. The man's lips curled into a knowing smile as he touched the child's forehead with a single finger. A touch that was as light as a whisper.
"Oh, child. I know you can't yet comprehend my words." The man's words were soft, almost wistful. "But, let me tell you this. We are nothing more than fragments of a dream made by that foolish queen's vision. And more importantly…"
The man's gaze lifted towards the moon, luminous and pale, hanging in the vast bright sky, similar to that day the woman prayed. The gentle wind danced. It was as if the world was listening to this man.
"...we must never become nightmares like that foolish queen." Beneath the gaze of the unusual moon, the man stood still with his unwavering smile.
…
Noa Empire, a land of high technological advancement and sprawling territories— equating its land to a low country-sized empire.
Yet, what the common citizens did not know was that their empire crosses boundaries between reality and dreams, which were believed to come from the First Queen's fantasies.
"Are you Vicente Magnolia, by any chance?"
Vicente, who had stepped off the train, and was just about to touch the polished platform was immediately approached by a man— middle-aged, broad-shouldered, and dressed in attire that, while refined, resembled that of a high-ranking nobles's chauffeur.
"Yes, that's my name." Vicente answered, pulling out his identification as proof.
The man, a chauffeur, inspected it thoroughly before nodding. "His highness, Duke Vein, requests your presence, as per arrangement made by your grandfather."
'I have an acquaintance there, you might be able to live comfortably.'
Vicente was not surprised. He recalled his grandfather's words that he had an acquaintance. But, never did he say that it was a Duke, a high-ranking noble.
The idea of staying at the Duke's palace brought Vicente at ease. As one of the highest-ranking nobles, second highest ranking next to a Grand Duke under the Empire's King, there was no doubt that his estate would be nothing short of extravagant.
Wealth and riches had never been Vicente's ambitions. He cared not for the riches but rather, for the place that normal people could not bother to reach. The thought of stepping into such an environment made him mutter a quiet woah
"I am Troy, Duke Vein's chauffeur. Will you follow me to the carriage?"
Vicente did not doubt his words and nodded to affirm his actions.
It was not a matter of carelessness but rather confidence. If this man was an impostor, announcing himself as the Duke's chauffeur in the middle of a crowded station, would most likely be called a fool. This kind of deception, if found out, would bring his immediate execution. This type of action would result in an insult towards the noble household.
Besides that, Vicente was not someone prone to doubting excessively.
'That's dangerous!'
Troy, sharing the exact sentiment, watched Vicente with surprise and concern. He had expected hesitation, suspicion— anything but this quiet acceptance.
As they walked, conversation remained minimal until they stepped outside the station. The train had not stopped at the heart of the empire but at the outskirts of the innermost place of the empire. From there, both men had a clear view of the capital, Arc, where a towering castle pierced through the clouds.
"For review, Noa empire's size is nearly the size of a country." Troy explained and continued. "To accommodate terrestrial planes and resource scarcity, the empire is separated into different landmarks. The most notable among these landmarks is Arc, the capital of the Noa Empire.."
This was explained by the chauffeur to make Vicente fully understand the structure of the Empire.
From their vantage point, Arc's breathtaking scenery was in front of them, complimented in hues of gold and crimson beneath the sunset.
"This might be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I must savor it." Vicente murmured, savoring the sight. Yet, time could not participate as the night crept closer. Orange lights, glowing from the street lamps, started to flicker to life along the cobblestone path.
Duty has called. Vicente still had to meet with the duke and arrange himself to adapt the change of living. He thought that he should not take much time as Duke Vein was waiting.
Vicente, then, averted his gaze from the scenery in sorrow, and followed Troy toward the carriage— only to freeze in shock. His expression silently screamed and looked at the chauffeur as if he was saying 'What is this?'.
The carriage was something he had never seen. Gone were the wooden, horse-drawn designs he was accustomed with. Instead, a dark, sleek carriage with intricate golden patterns stood in front of him. Even more astonishing was its mode of transportation— no horses, but a steam-powered engine.
"Well, this steam-powered transportation is mostly prevalent here in the empire." Troy remarked. "But,only the wealthiest noble can afford carriages of this caliber.."
Still in awe, Vicente hesitantly stepped inside. He was cautious as though he was afraid to break something so precious. Outside, Troy took his place at the helm, preparing for departure.
"By the way, where is Duke Vein's estate?"
"The southern district of Arc. Don't worry, it will take less than an hour."
As they travelled, Vicente observed the empire's architecture. Homes with tall windows and lavish porches stood side by side with simpler dwellings, adorned with intricate ornamentation.
Yet, not all was gilded. Slums lined in some districts. This is a common occurrence in every place of the world. A system built by the natural order— where wealth and poverty coexisted, regardless of where and what era they are in.
The carriage, carrying both Vicente and Troy, was approaching near the Vein estate. Before them stood a grand, towering gate adorned with intricate patterns, marking the entrance befitting one of the most high ranking nobles in the empire.
Beyond the gate, the estate stretched far, its vast land extended beyond the borders of Arc and into the open grasslands.
After a short journey on the well-maintained path. The carriage came to a halt before a massive manor.
As Troy stepped out to open the door of the carriage, Vicente followed. His eyes were immediately drawn to the manor before him. It was unlike the homes they had passed on their way here. Though it shared the common traits of having tall windows, porches, and intricate ornamentation, this manor was in a league of its own. Its scale was immense, stretching outward in both width and depth. Its roof was pointed, giving it a fortress-like appearance.
In front of the entrance of the manor, where an ornate, large door stood, a lone figure awaited them. A man in a dark, tight-fitting, calf-length frock coat with golden cuffs and buttons that gleamed in the dim light. His presence alone exuded authority, yet his expression was anything but rigid.
This man was none other that the owner of the estate, Duke Vein.
"I greet Your Highness," Troy said, bowing deeply without so much as glancing at the Duke's face.
Now that Vicente had a close look, he noticed how young Duke Vein appeared despite his age.The Duke's feature was captivating with his long navy blue-hair and piercing golden eyes.
Without letting Vicente open his mouth, the Duke voluntarily opens his first.
"He was not a person to abide by such rules... I kind of understand." Duke Vein said with a low chuckle escaping his lips.
Vicente blinked in confusion.
In the Noa Empire, strict etiquette dictated how one should behave in the presence of a noble. Often, lower-ranking individuals would avoid direct eye contact with higher ranking nobles or atleast, bow down with their left knee on the ground, similar to Troy's current action. In contrast, there should be certain gestures Vicente should have acted.
Fortunately, Duke Vein was a person that did not rely on his status. If Duke Vein had been like other nobles, Vicente's lack of formal greeting might have resulted in punishment. This is because some nobles act arrogantly, as if they were the top dogs, they thirst for respect with compliance rather than earned.
Duke Vein casually smiled at Vicente's action.
"Don't think too hard about it." The Duke said."Still, you should learn proper etiquette. Some nobles take their authority too seriously."
Now that Vicente thought about it. There is a hierarchy system in this empire. It is said that respect should be shown for gestures and compliance.
Vicente suddenly realized his mistake. His spine stiffened as he hastily bowed at the waist.
"Greetings, Your Highness!"
"Don't worry about that." Duke Vein waved a dismissive hand. " I care less about gestures. Troy over here is exaggerating. Just call me, Duke Vein"
"But…"
"I mean it." The Duke said. His tone was calm yet firm. These words from Duke Vein were sincere. Vicente could not help but agree that the duke does not care of how large his authority is. "Authority or responsibility, I prefer the latter. One can exist without the other. Authority, for me, is merely a tool."
We can't bother to alter an ideology built by a person. The person, Duke Vein, truly holds this value like a precious gem. Despite his face that always keeps smiling like having no care for the world, the tone of the duke's voice holds strong conviction.
This is what makes a person scary— someone who is bound by something which people would barely notice if he was serious or not. It can be called as a safe play since he can play both sides of the coin. Either staying on the side of his conviction or not.
Still, this person was intriguing in the eyes of Vicente. He could not help but admire him.
"Enough about that. You should come inside and... Let us continue our talk in my office." Duke Vein said, turning towards the chauffeur whose face was still on the ground despite hearing the Duke's words. "I'll be taking him from here, Troy."
At the Duke's command, Troy stood and departed, likely returning the carriage to its rightful place. Meanwhile, Vicente followed Duke Vein inside.
Before heading to his office, Duke Vein insisted on giving Vicente a tour of the manor with him as a guide. Though Vicente initially declined, he eventually relented under the Duke's persistent enthusiasm.
Once the tour concluded, the two found themselves seated in the Duke's office. It was evident from Vicente's deep breaths that he was tired from that tour. The office had a lavish yet functional space. The room featured a central seating area with a teapot and two cups resting on the table between them. Shelves filled with books line the walls, while a personal desk sat in one corner. Another desk in one corner near a shelg wad covered with tools. It was a place for experiments.
"Now then…" Duke Vein began and placed a letter on the table. "Let's discuss why you are here."
Vicente recognized the letter. It was none other than the letter of his grandfather that was sent to the Duke.
"He mentioned you had some business to attend to. If I can assist, I will."
Vicente hesitated to ask. Not because of their difference in status. Who would not agree when someone influential and powerful asks to support you? Vicente was more concerned with trust because it is not something that should be given easily.
"Don't be so obvious about your suspicions. Still, I can't blame you. I was interested because it's been ages since your grandfather meddled with the outside world."
Curious about their relationship, Vicente's fingers curled slightly and asked. "If I may ask, would it be okay to know the relationship you and my grandfather have?"
Duke Vein's smile widened upon hearing the question. Without a second to spare, he opened his mouth. "Long story short? I hate him. And, he does not care about it." Duke Vein said, without even removing the smile on his face. There was no malice on his face nor voice. Just the same Duke as before.
Vicente's curiosity deepened, but as a respect for personal boundaries, he held back questions.
"Enough about that." The Duke continued his words. "Are you willing to share something interesting?"
Vicente exhaled softly, deciding there was no reason to hide the truth.
"It is not entirely a secret in this world but in ours, it is something that should be kept." Vicente was slightly bothered by this fact, yet the most interesting part was about to come out from his mouth. "My grandfather told me that a magician, proclaiming himself as Umbra, is in this empire right now."
"Then, what about him?"
"You… seem to know him…"
"To put it simply," the Duke leaned back. "My son is hunting him."
Hm?
Silence.
Then, in eerie synchronization, both of them tilted their heads slightly—one smiling, the other looking increasingly concerned.
"Don't kill him… yet!" Vicente blurted, his face twisted in distress.
Duke Vein chuckled. "Well, that depends."