Kael Draven
The wind cut through the walls of Espadaris like invisible blades. Even inside the main hall, where the meeting was being held between generals, advisors, and the king, I felt the cold piercing through my armor plates. But it wasn't the wind that froze my spine—it was the news.
"The daughter of the King of Cardan... is dead."
The words dropped like stones onto the floor. Silence followed instantly, a suffocating weight no one dared to break.
My throat went dry. I didn't need to hear the name. Violet. She was the only one that came to mind. The only one that mattered. But even so, I knew she wasn't. Still, the worry belonged to her alone.
She had written in the letter: "Not for me, but for her."And now... it was too late.
My fist clenched tightly against the edge of the table. I wanted to ask. To scream. To know. But I remained motionless. The King of Espadaris did not tolerate weakness, and showing concern for the daughter of another kingdom—even one that was, until now, an ally like Cardan—would be seen as emotional betrayal.
The meeting went on with muffled voices, military decisions, and unrolled maps. It all sounded distant. Like a buzzing behind my eyes.
When the men began to leave, the king summoned me with a barely noticeable gesture. I waited until the last of the generals had crossed the threshold before I approached.
"You're weakening, Draven." His voice wasn't angry, but sharp—like a blade honed too finely. "Your eyes are no longer where they should be. Your mind is... in Cardan?"
I hesitated.
"I'm fulfilling my duty, Your Majesty."
"You're letting foolish feelings take root where there is no room for roots." He stepped closer, his eyes hard and cutting. "Violet is the daughter of a potential enemy king. Dead or not, her mourning is not ours. This is a warning, brother. The last one you'll receive."
I nodded without speaking. His words burned like red-hot iron, not because of the tone... but because of the truth they threatened to carry. He saw right through me.
It was then that one of the royal guards entered in haste, without asking permission.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. There's... news. Patrolmen reported movement behind the waterfalls of Cardan. A well-preserved forest. A hidden cabin. Apparently abandoned. But there are signs it's been in use."
The king turned to me, as if fate had already sealed its decision.
"Go there. But keep your distance. A stealth mission like this—only you can carry it out with precision. Observe for days, weeks if needed. If something moves... I want to know before it breathes."
And so, days later, I found myself again on the borderlands—a makeshift camp set up half a league from the waterfall. The mist from the cascades was constant, covering the forest like a sacred veil. Alone in the woods, my enemy was my own mind.
I fought shadows.Fought memories.Fought Violet's eyes that haunted me still.
At dawn, I would train—before the sun even rose. In every sword strike, I saw the smile she gave during the council.In every thrust, the tremble in her voice from the letter."Not for me, but for her."
And now she had no one left to fight for.
Foolishness, Draven.You are commander of the army, brother to the king. Not a wounded poet.
But at night... at night I couldn't sleep.
I saw Silvar in my dreams, his tired eyes saying more than his mouth dared. I saw Violet... kneeling over a body, trembling hands, silent pain pouring like blood.
I tried to convince myself it was just pity. Just humanity.But the lies we tell ourselves are always the weakest.
On the fifth night, when the stars shone so brightly they resembled the sun, something moved among the trees. A shadow.
I rose silently, grabbing my sword without making a sound, exhausted from the unrelenting cold.
The figure rode a black horse, cloaked, moving slowly through the underbrush. The animal halted, sniffing the air, tense.
Then came the wolf's howl, echoing from the east. The horse reared in fright, and the rider tried to steady it but lost control. The figure fell violently, tumbling down the path until crashing into a root.
I ran. No thought. No strategy. Only... instinct.
I reached the motionless body. A woman—small, light, wrapped in a dark cloak. Her hood had slipped partially back.
My heart pounded.No. It can't be.
I knelt, checking if she still breathed. She was alive, but unconscious. A small cut bled above her temple, and her ankle looked twisted.
The wolf approached from the trail, sniffing, but when I stood and locked eyes with it, it backed off. It didn't attack. It just watched me... and disappeared into the trees.
I turned my gaze back to the fallen young woman.No... it was impossible.
But my heart insisted.
As the night draped the forest in its heavy cloak, I carried her back to camp. And for the first time in days, I stopped fighting the ghosts.
Because now... one of them was in my arms.