Zeph walked through the dark corridors of Duskvaria Palace. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the soft echo of his boots against the cold stone floor. Reaching the King's chambers, he knocked twice on the heavy door.
"Come in," Azrael's voice called from inside—calm, yet laced with power.
Zeph entered and immediately moved behind the thick velvet curtain. Behind it sat King Azrael—lazy in posture, yet radiating overwhelming power. There was a new aura around him—something darker, something terrifying. The room itself seemed bloodier, the air heavier. His hands… were soaked in fresh blood.
Without hesitation, Zeph knelt—right hand on his chest, left knee to the floor—bowing deeply.
"Your Highness," Zeph spoke, voice steady but laced with tension. "Princess Lunaria has left the palace… along with her fairies and her maid, Meli. I did not expect her to betray us. I believe Meli arranged everything for her escape. Giving the princess the seven fairies… it was a mistake."
Azrael's eyes burned with fury as he rose slowly from his chair, his voice thunderous:
"Mistake?" he snarled. "Then what do you call your failure to guard a mere girl and seven glowing sparks? If what I did was a mistake, what is this?"
Zeph flinched at the fire in Azrael's eyes. He lowered his head further, trembling slightly.
"My deepest apologies, Your Majesty…"
Silence stretched thick in the room until Azrael finally spoke again, voice colder now.
"Rise."
Zeph obeyed, slowly getting to his feet.
"It was not a mistake. It was a test," Azrael said, walking toward the shadows of the room. "And she failed. There will be no mercy now."
Zeph hesitated, a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
Azrael turned sharply, eyes glowing like burning coals. "Alive. I want her here. No matter what. If she reaches Lunastia , follow her there. Drag her back from that wretched place if you must."
Zeph's voice dropped to a whisper. "War…?"
Azrael laughed. A low, chilling laugh that echoed through the bloody room. It was then Zeph noticed the large tub beside the throne.
Drawn by instinct, he stepped closer, he take a light in his hand for a better look.
It was not water inside.
Thick, red blood filled the tub, its surface sluggish and opaque. Floating inside were four severed heads—expressionless, pale, and unmistakably familiar.
The heads of the guards assigned to protect Princess Lunaria.
Zeph swallowed hard, forcing himself to kneel again.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I will not fail you again."
**********************************************
In the bustling market of Vamorthia, a luxurious black carriage passed through the crowd, drawing curious glances. Inside sat two women dressed in elegant black robes—noble in appearance. One of them kept her face hidden behind a veil.
It was Lunaria.
Surrounding her were six tiny fairies, fluttering joyfully, nibbling on local snacks and laughing as they played carelessly. Lunaria smiled softly, watching them, trying to enjoy the moment. But not everyone shared her calm.
Two faces in the carriage held darker expressions.
Meli, the maid, sat tensely—worry etched deep into her face. Beside her, Lira, the seventh fairy and the only one who had completed her cultivation, glared in silence, her anger building.
"I'm scared, Luna," Meli whispered under her breath, leaning closer. "His Majesty must have already discovered our escape. We need to be more cautious."
Everyone went quiet, nodding in agreement. The weight of her words settled over them.
Crysie, the playful fairy with pink wings, noticed Lira's angry glare. She frowned. "Lira… what's wrong?"
Lira stood up mid-flight, her wings trembling with fury. Then she burst out loud, voice echoing in the carriage:
"WHAT DO YOU ALL THINK?! LUNA—if you had studied even a little harder, we wouldn't be in this situation now!"
Lunaria's eyes widened, but she said nothing.
"In the time meant for training, you played around and wasted your chances. Now look at your power—it's all for nothing if you don't know how to control it!" Lira shouted.
Lunaria lowered her head, ashamed. Her fingers gripped the edge of her seat tightly.
Vina flew forward, trying to defend her. "That's enough, Lira! Don't speak to her like—"
But Lira wasn't done. She turned her anger to the rest.
"And the rest of you—!" she snapped, pointing at the six fairies. "I'm the only one among us who completed cultivation. Only I can shift into human form. The rest of you? You'll stay like this—weak little souls! Remember how that monster attacked with just a needle? You couldn't even protect her!"
Silence filled the carriage.
"If you had spent half the time training instead of playing," Lira continued coldly, "maybe we wouldn't be running like fools now."
"Can you please stop it?!" floe, the most sensitive of the fairies, said, her voice trembling with tears.
But before anyone could say more, Lunaria raised her hand.
"No, Crysie. Lira is right," she said softly, her voice calm but resolute. "I've been careless. I treated life like a fairytale, but the truth is, it's not. And now… now I have a disgusting devil chasing me."
She looked up, eyes glowing faintly.
"I have to become powerful. Once we return… all of you will go into cultivation, immediately. No excuses. And I'll begin mastering my own power. No more running."
The fairies looked down, sad and disappointed about the idea of separating. But they could see it in her eyes—Luna had made up her mind.
And this time, she wouldn't back down.
*********************************************
Across the vast sea that separated Lunastia from Duskvaria, a large ship sailed smoothly beneath a golden sky. The vessel bore no royal insignias—only the markings of a simple island nation known for delivering rare herbs and healing potions across the continents.
But inside the ship, royalty was hidden in plain sight.
Auren, Crown Prince of Lunastia, stood at the center of a wooden cabin, studying a large map of Duskvaria spread across a table. To his right stood Sol, the charming and warm-hearted Prince of Sylorine, and to his left was Caelith, the composed and sharp-minded Prince of Crystavella. All three were dressed like common travelers, their royal identities masked for safety.
Suddenly, a soft jingling sound echoed through the cabin as a small fairy burst through the window, wings glowing with pale gold. She hovered for a moment, then gently placed a sealed scroll on the table.
"A letter from Lunaria," the fairy announced before disappearing in a shimmer of dust.
Auren grabbed the letter and unsealed it quickly. As he read the familiar handwriting, his serious expression softened into a rare smile.
"She's alive," he said, his voice filled with relief. "She made it out."
Sol leaned in closer, eyes shining with emotion. "Did she say where she's heading?"
"She's near Molgarin," Auren replied. "And she's with Meli and the fairies. They're hiding, but she sounds… stronger. More focused."
Caelith nodded. "Then we should pick up the pace. If Azrael discovers she's missing, he won't waste time."
"We're safe," Auren said calmly. "To the world, we're simply three islanders delivering medicinal supplies to Duskvaria. No one will question us. We'll reach Molgarin in six days."
Sol let out a quiet sigh of relief, though worry lingered in his eyes. "I just want to see her. To know she's alright."
Auren gave him a knowing glance. "You care deeply for her."
Sol didn't deny it. "I love her."
Caelith, usually silent on such matters, added, "We both do."
A brief silence filled the room before Auren spoke again, his voice gentle but firm.
"She's not just my sister. She's Lunaria—the one person who must be protected at any cost. I don't care who she loves, as long as she's safe and free."
Sol met his eyes and nodded. "Then let's get her back. Before Azrael even knows she's missing."
Auren looked toward the sea, determination hardening his gaze.
"Full speed ahead. We reach Molgarin in six days—no matter what."