The sun dipped behind distant peaks, painting the skies above Solmere in a blaze of amber. The chimes of the central tower rang out, marking the fall of dusk—and the beginning of the grand evening banquet.
Karl and Molvar emerged from the inn, having adjusted their attire. Under the glow of crystal lanterns lining the streets, they made their way toward the central square, where a crowd had already begun to gather. The atmosphere was both regal and subtly enchanting. Music floated through the air, mingling with the mouthwatering aroma of royal kitchens carried by the wind.
Molvar glanced at Karl with a chuckle."You think they'll serve anything strong? Hope they're not stingy with the latecomers."
Karl replied, his gaze fixed on the brightly lit hall ahead:"Just don't pass out on the banquet table, and we'll be fine."
The two laughed, stepping into the growing procession headed toward the ancient castle at the heart of Solmere—where a grand banquet awaited them.
Warm light spilled from hundreds of crystal lanterns, casting a soft glow over the intricately carved walls and deep crimson drapes of the grand hall. A string ensemble played a gentle tune in the background, completing the lavish atmosphere.
As Karl and Molvar passed through the great doors, two figures stepped forward to greet them. One wore a black cloak trimmed in silver, his posture refined and his eyes gleaming with experience—Sir Cedric. Beside him stood Captain Elric in his formal uniform, ever watchful, the soldier's alertness never fading.
Sir Cedric offered a courteous smile and bowed slightly."Welcome to Solmere, Karl—and your ever-lively companion," he added with a glance at Molvar, who let out a short chuckle.
"Lord Albrecht Varnhold has heard much about you," Sir Cedric continued. "He is eager to meet with you after the banquet. But for now, enjoy the evening. It's a rare occasion when Solmere's gates are open to foreign guests."
Captain Elric gave only a brief nod in greeting, then stepped back to resume his vigilant stance.
Molvar nudged Karl with his elbow and whispered,"Let's hope this doesn't turn into an elaborate interrogation."
Karl simply smiled, his calm gaze drifting deeper into the hall, where violins sang and goblets clinked in celebration.
The two men strolled leisurely across the grand hall, where nobles adorned in silk and velvet conversed animatedly over goblets of red wine. Several eyes had already turned toward Karl—the stranger with a calm bearing—and Molvar, the short but unmistakably spirited companion.
An elderly lady with silver hair pinned up in elegant coils, her neck adorned with moonstone jewelry, approached first. She spoke in a gentle, melodic voice:"May I ask where you hail from, sir? There's something… ancient about you."
Karl gave a polite nod, replying in his steady baritone:"We are mere travelers passing through Solmere on our way north. But indeed… I once set foot in this city a very long time ago."
His words sparked a subtle ripple of curiosity among the gathered nobles.
Soon after, a tall, slender young noble—his cloak embroidered with the emblem of a triple-sunned crest—raised his glass:"If you've returned after so long, surely Solmere holds something that weighs on your heart. Or perhaps… someone?"
Molvar laughed heartily and clapped Karl on the back."Careful, my friend's not great with riddled questions and flirtation!"
Laughter rippled through the air, easing some of the earlier tension. Yet Karl remained keenly aware: these people were anything but simple. They were watching. Calculating. And above all—they were waiting for something from him.
From across the room, Sir Cedric and Captain Elric observed in silence, their eyes never straying from the traveler.
Amid the clinking of goblets and the hum of noble conversation, a delicate melody began to play from the ensemble in the corner of the hall. Unlike the cheerful ceremonial tunes earlier, this one carried a deep melancholy, like mist drifting over mountain ridges at dusk.
Karl stopped in his tracks.
Molvar sensed the shift and leaned in."That tune… you recognize it?"
Karl didn't answer right away. His eyes locked onto the violin as it sang its mournful song. Memories came flooding back—of the gray-stoned monastery, the laughter of the long-gone, and a cold evening years ago, when he parted ways with someone he should never have lost.
"That melody," Karl murmured, "was played at my mother's funeral."
Molvar fell silent, sensing the gravity of the moment.
Then Karl noticed something even more jarring than the tune—the violin itself. It was carved from black pine, with a small amber gem embedded at the scroll.
He froze.
"That's impossible…"
He took a step forward—but at that very moment, the violin fell silent. The musician bowed swiftly and disappeared behind the stage, as if they knew they'd been recognized.
Karl clenched his sleeve, his chest tightening.Who had brought that song here? And why was that violin… in Solmere?
Karl quietly stepped away from the crowd, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the violinist had vanished. Molvar, noticing the sudden change in his friend's demeanor, hurried after him.
"Hey, Karl! Where are you going?"
"I need to know who played that song." Karl's voice was low, resolute.
They turned down a narrow hallway behind the stage. The dim lanterns flickered against damp stone walls, casting long shadows that whispered of age and silence.
A wooden door stood slightly ajar. Karl pushed it open. Inside was the musicians' resting room, now empty—except for one thing.
The violin.
It sat on the table, as if waiting for him.
Karl approached, his hand trembling as it touched the familiar wood. Cold. The carved laurel symbol on the neck—still intact.
Molvar scanned the room, murmuring,"No one's here… It's like they wanted you to find it."
Karl gripped the violin tightly, his gaze distant."They left it for me. But who… and why?"
Suddenly, the Solmere bells tolled from the great hall—three long chimes, signaling the heart of the evening was about to begin. Molvar gently patted Karl on the shoulder.
"We should head back. Sir Cedric will notice if we're gone too long."
Karl nodded, but something deep inside stirred—a memory, or perhaps a warning.The past, it seemed, was not done with him yet.
Karl stood in silence for a long moment in the room where the violin rested—like a ghost of the past rising from its grave. He carefully placed the instrument back on the table, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the hallway.
His footsteps echoed along the quiet corridor. As he turned to leave, the lantern at the far end of the hall flickered, its light fading. From the thick shadows behind him, a soft laugh rang out—cold and familiar, like an echo from long ago.
A voice emerged from the darkness:"At last… you've returned, Karl."
Karl froze in place, eyes widening. But when he turned around, the hallway was empty—swallowed by silence and shadows.
The night in Solmere had just grown a little darker.