As they ventured deeper into the woods, the sun's warm light waned, barely seeping through the thick canopy of red oak leaves that arched overhead. Shadows stretched across the trail, the air turning cool and dense with the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves. Their path wound through scattered boulders and thick, emerald-green patches of moss, adding a touch of mystery to the already shadowed forest.
K.J. glanced over at Oliver, his voice quiet. "Do you... want your coat back?"
Oliver shook his head, smiling warmly. "No, you keep it. It's keeping you warm, and we need you in good shape for the port. Can't have you dying of cold before we even get there."
K.J. faltered, a hint of self-doubt slipping into his voice. "Sorry if I'm... a burden. I mean..."
Oliver quickly interrupted, his voice firm but kind. "K.J., you're not a burden. If anything, you might just be the key to solving a lot of problems." He chuckled, sidestepping a low-hanging branch. "And don't forget—you saved me. Twice. From poison and a dragon, no less! How could that possibly be a burden?"
K.J. let out a sigh of relief, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thank you... It is merely a habit, I suppose."
They walked in companionable silence for a few moments, each navigating the uneven trail, when Oliver spoke again, his tone curious. "Your mother... what kind of magic did she use? Did she belong to any elemental affinity?"
K.J. thought for a moment, his gaze distant as he searched through fragments of memories. "I... don't really remember all the details," he admitted, a touch of frustration in his voice. "But I know she worked with all kinds of magic. She was all about balance, about finding harmony between things, and I think her magic reflected that."
Oliver's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "All elements? I've never heard of that. Most people focus on one affinity—fire, water, earth... Maybe she was more powerful than you realize."
K.J. nodded slowly. "Maybe... She always said real strength came from knowing how everything fits together, not just mastering one piece. She thought using all elements was the only way to understand the balance in life."
Oliver looked at him thoughtfully, a newfound respect in his gaze. "She must've been remarkable. Not many could even attempt to wield all the elements, let alone teach someone about it."
In response to K.J.'s affirmative nod, a surge of pride coursed through his veins, honoring his mother's remarkable legacy. A glimmer of hope ignited within him, propelling the belief that by comprehending her mystical abilities, he might uncover the answers to his own enigmatic circumstances. The trail ahead traversed further into the depths of the forest's somber shadows, yet K.J.'s spirit was ablaze with a resolute determination that illuminated his path forward.
As the evening deepened, shadows seemed to thicken around them, weaving through the dense mist that clung to the forest floor. The air grew cold, almost damp, and both Oliver and K.J. could feel an uneasy tension creeping up their spines, setting them on edge. Each step forward felt heavier, as if the very darkness around them had weight.
Oliver peered into the distance, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "There it is!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with anticipation. "The end of the forest road. We're almost there!"
K.J., however, didn't move. His senses were sharp, attuned to something Oliver hadn't noticed. He placed a firm hand on Oliver's shoulder, his grip tense. "Wait."
Oliver froze, his gaze following K.J.'s. "What is it?" he whispered, his own unease deepening as he scanned the shrouded trees.
K.J. didn't answer immediately. Instead, he slowly pivoted, his eyes scanning the darkness, his good ear catching faint sounds in the distance. His heart raced as he picked up the low, guttural growl echoing through the trees, a sound that seemed to resonate in his bones. It was chilling—primal—and it sent a shiver down his spine.
Quickly, he reached back, retrieving his bow and notching an arrow, holding it low but ready, his eyes darting around for any movement. The thick mist distorted his vision, making every shadow seem to shift and writhe. The growls grew louder, snarls creeping into the mist-laden air, pressing in around them.
Oliver glanced at K.J., and a realization struck him. Whatever lurked beyond, they weren't alone.
Suddenly, K.J.'s instincts screamed at him, urging him to turn. He spun on his heel just in time to see a dark shape lunging from the top of a boulder, its red eyes gleaming, a monstrous dire wolf, its teeth bared as it hurtled toward him.
Without a second thought, K.J. raised his bow, releasing the arrow with a practiced ease that came from years of training. The arrow shot through the air, piercing the wolf's skull between its fierce, glowing eyes. The beast let out a strangled yelp as its momentum carried its limp body forward, landing heavily on the ground just feet from K.J., its claws scraping against the earth as it slid to a stop.
Oliver, reacting instinctively, summoned fire to his hand, the warm glow casting light over the dark, misty ground, revealing the wolf's massive form sprawled on the forest floor. Blood pooled beneath it, and its eyes, once blazing, were now lifeless.
K.J. kept his bow raised, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any more threats, his heartbeat thundering in his chest. His senses were on high alert, but he felt a flicker of relief at the sight of Oliver's fire illuminating the path, pushing back the oppressive darkness.
Oliver turned to him, his voice hushed. "K.J., that was incredible."
But K.J. barely acknowledged the praise, his gaze still trained on the shadows, his body tense, his instincts screaming that they might not be alone.
The silence after the kill was short-lived. Just as K.J. started to lower his bow, a flash of movement caught the corner of his eye—a second dire wolf, larger and darker, lunging from the underbrush, its maw wide and glistening with bared teeth, aiming straight for him.
Without hesitation, K.J. swiftly notched another arrow, drawing back the string in a smooth, practiced motion. He released, the arrow slicing through the air and embedding itself deep into the wolf's chest mid-leap. The beast let out a pained snarl, its body hitting the ground with a heavy thud mere feet away, its legs twitching as it struggled against the inevitable pull of death.
But there was no time to rest. From behind them, the sound of snarling grew louder, followed by the heavy padding of paws against the ground. Another dire wolf charged forward, its blood-red eyes fixed on Oliver, saliva dripping from its fanged mouth.
"Oliver, behind you!" K.J. shouted, his voice tight with urgency.
Oliver didn't hesitate. He whirled around, his hands igniting with searing flames, the light casting an eerie glow across the misty forest. He concentrated, forming the fire into a crackling ball, its heat intensifying as it hovered above his palm. With a fierce determination, he hurled the fireball at the advancing beast.
The fireball struck the dire wolf square in the chest, igniting its thick fur instantly. The creature's snarl turned into a shriek of agony as it staggered back, its entire body engulfed in searing flames. The stench of burning fur and flesh filled the air, and within seconds, the wolf collapsed, its charred form smoldering into ash on the forest floor.
Both K.J. and Oliver took a moment to catch their breath, their senses heightened, scanning the forest around them for any other threats. The eerie silence returned, punctuated only by the crackling of dying embers from Oliver's fireball.
Oliver glanced at K.J., his expression a mixture of relief and admiration. "You... you saved my life. Again," he murmured, a faint smile breaking through the intensity of the moment.
K.J. gave a nod, though his grip on his bow remained steady, his eyes sharp as he kept watch on the shadows around them. "We're not out of this yet," he replied quietly, his voice a mix of caution and resolve.
The two stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their backs against the shadowed forest, ready for whatever else might emerge from the darkness.
Oliver's gaze flickered over the dense shadows surrounding them, catching sight of the unmistakable gleam of eyes watching from the darkness. More wolves. The low, guttural growls grew louder, and K.J. and Oliver realized they were surrounded—a whole pack, waiting to strike.
Not wanting to waste precious supplies, K.J. stepped carefully back toward the slain wolves, crouching beside the nearest one. He gripped the arrow lodged in its head, tugging it free with a firm pull. The arrow came out with a faint, wet sound, blood smeared along its shaft. K.J. wiped it clean against a patch of moss on the ground, inspecting it closely to ensure the shaft and fletching were intact.
Oliver watched, understanding the practicality of K.J.'s actions. "Every arrow counts, doesn't it?" he murmured, a hint of respect in his voice.
K.J. nodded, retrieving his second arrow from another wolf's chest, repeating the process. "I don't know how many more we'll need," he replied, tucking each recovered arrow carefully back into his quiver.
Oliver took a steadying breath, an idea forming in his mind. He looked at K.J., his expression resolute. "Stay close," he instructed, his voice calm but intense. K.J. nodded, gripping his bow tightly, ready for whatever came next.
Summoning his magic, Oliver raised both hands, his palms facing outward. With a sharp focus, he began to draw the flames around him, shaping them into a ring that encircled both himself and K.J. The fire roared to life, casting an intense, fiery glow that created a wall around them, holding the wolves at bay. The dire wolves, snarling and pacing just beyond the flames, seemed momentarily deterred, their red eyes narrowed as they watched the barrier warily.
Oliver glanced at K.J. "We're going to walk toward the end of the forest road," he said, the determination in his voice clear. "Stay inside the circle, and we'll keep moving."
With the wall of fire protecting them, they began to walk, Oliver maintaining the blazing barrier as they moved forward. The flames flickered and swirled, creating an impenetrable shield against the pack that stalked them. The wolves circled around the flames, growling and snapping but unable to cross.
The dim path, barely visible in the mist, wound ahead of them, and the end of the forest seemed almost within reach. The firelight illuminated their path, casting eerie shadows against the trees, but Oliver kept his focus sharp, the intensity of his flames undiminished.
The wolves snarled and lunged, but each attempt was met with the searing heat of the flames, forcing them back. Step by step, K.J. and Oliver pressed on, the crackling of the fire mixing with the sounds of the growling pack. Oliver's concentration remained unbroken, his energy unwavering as he fueled the fire wall, his eyes set firmly on the path ahead.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of tense steps and guarded glances, they saw the edge of the forest clearing ahead. The trees began to thin, and the open air beyond beckoned.
With one final surge of energy, Oliver expanded the wall, sending a wave of fire outward in a sweeping arc, scattering the wolves into the shadows. As the flames receded, the dire wolves retreated, their snarls fading into the darkness.
Oliver let out a long, relieved breath, releasing the flames entirely. He glanced at K.J., a weary but triumphant smile on his face. "We made it."
K.J. nodded, his own expression a mix of relief and respect. "That was... incredible," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.
Together, they stepped into the open, leaving the shadows of the forest and the threat of the wolves behind them, the warmth of Oliver's magic lingering as they walked forward.
As K.J. and Oliver crested the top of the hill, they paused, taking in the view stretched out below them. The vast river gleamed like a dark, endless ocean under the rising moonlight, its surface reflecting silvery waves that shimmered in the gathering dusk. The water stretched wide, unfathomably deep, and mysterious, giving the illusion that it might carry on forever into the horizon.
To their left, the mountains rose steep and unyielding, with jagged edges that looked even sharper in the dim light. The sheer cliffs appeared to merge with the river, forming an imposing boundary that added to the isolated, wild beauty of the scene. The peaks seemed to reach toward the sky, their rugged silhouettes sharply outlined against the darkening indigo.
Nestled below, the town of Eastreach Port appeared small and quiet, a collection of weathered buildings and winding streets, each structure softened by the faint glow of flickering lanterns. The entire town seemed to be bathed in a warm, amber glow, each light a tiny star against the vast, dark landscape. From their vantage point, K.J. and Oliver could see the movement of townsfolk as small, shadowy figures, some still bustling about with late-evening tasks.
As the evening turned into night, the brightest moon began to rise, casting a soft silver light that touched the tops of the buildings, the rippling river, and even the rocky slopes of the mountain. The moonlight illuminated the docked ships, making their masts and sails gleam faintly. A few small fishing boats swayed gently along the docks, their nets rolled and stored for the night, while two larger vessels stood out—one a sturdy cargo ship and the other a sleeker ship with dark, polished wood, its hull catching the moon's glow.
The quiet sounds of Eastreach Port drifted up the hill to where K.J. and Oliver stood—the faint murmur of voices, the distant clang of metal on wood, and the occasional bark of a docked dog. The town, though small, exuded a quiet resilience, a place of hardworking people living in harmony with the rugged, untamed land around them.
K.J. glanced at Oliver, his face touched with the silver-blue light of the moon. "It looks... peaceful," he murmured.
Oliver nodded, a small smile of relief crossing his face as he took in the view. "A haven," he replied softly. "And, hopefully, our way across the river."
With a silent understanding, they began their descent toward Eastreach Port, the welcoming lights of the town flickering like beacons, guiding them forward through the night.
After miles of walking, K.J. and Oliver finally approached the quiet port town of Eastreach. The town was cloaked in the calm of the night, with only a few people wandering the cobbled streets, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns hanging outside doors and along posts. The faint sounds of murmured conversations and the distant clinking of bottles drifted through the cool night air, yet no one paid much attention to the two strangers making their way through the town.
"Come on," Oliver murmured, his voice warm with familiarity. "She should be in that house near the dock."
K.J. glanced at him, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. Trust wasn't something he gave easily. "How well do you know her?" he asked, studying Oliver's expression.
A nostalgic smile crossed Oliver's face. "She's a childhood friend. We grew up together. Even though she's a commoner and I'm... well, royalty, she's always treated me like anyone else. Just... a friend."
K.J. raised an eyebrow, hesitating before asking, "Do... do you love her? Or something?"
Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. "No, nothing like that. She's married to Ryan." He glanced at K.J. with a playful smile, amused by his friend's surprise.
"Really?" K.J. asked, visibly taken aback.
"Yep," Oliver replied, his voice softening as he reminisced. "Ryan, Crystal, and I—we were inseparable as kids. She was the one who brought us together. They've always been like family to me."
They walked up to a modest house near the dock, its simple decor reflecting the town's hardworking character. Wicker baskets, barrels, and fishing nets lined the porch, and a lantern hung above the door, casting a gentle, inviting light. Oliver stepped up and knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.
A warm, gentle voice floated from inside, "Hold on, I'm coming!" Moments later, the door swung open, revealing a woman with a serene presence. Her long hair, a soft blend of blonde and brown, framed her face in loose waves, and her eyes, a warm brown, sparkled with a calm that seemed to dissolve all worries. Her smile was bright, the kind that immediately put people at ease.
"Oliver! You're finally here!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and joy. "I got your letter from the Moonove a few days ago. I was starting to worry."
The Moonove was no ordinary messenger bird; it was a creature woven from both myth and magic, a bird whose very existence seemed to shimmer between reality and legend. Its feathers, a deep midnight blue flecked with silver, were said to reflect the light of the moon in shifting patterns, giving the impression of starlight scattered across its wings. When in flight, the Moonove appeared almost ethereal, as if it were part of the night itself, a fleeting shadow that only the keenest eyes could detect.
What set the Moonove apart was its remarkable bond with the moon. Unlike other creatures that sought rest at night, the Moonove came to life only under the cover of darkness, its powers tied to the moon's light. It could only carry messages by the light of the moon, and the fuller the moon, the farther it could travel in a single night. Its flight was silent, and it moved with such speed that it could cross vast distances in hours, a trait that made it invaluable for sending messages quickly and without drawing attention.
The Moonove's magic wasn't limited to its speed and stealth. The bird also had an innate sense of discretion and loyalty. Once given a message, the Moonove would remember its destination with a devotion as though it understood the message's importance. It would fly directly to the intended recipient, bypassing any distractions, even instinctual needs like food or rest, until its task was complete. If someone other than the intended recipient attempted to intercept it, the bird would simply vanish into the night, blending seamlessly with the darkness, only to reappear when it was safe.
Legends told that each Moonove chose its human companion carefully, forming a lifelong bond with them. To summon a Moonove required a specific incantation whispered under the full moon, and only those who possessed an affinity for moon magic or deep-seated wisdom could form this bond. Once connected, the Moonove would appear whenever needed, waiting quietly on the windowsill or in the shadows until a message was entrusted to it. Then, with a silent departure, it would vanish into the night.
The Moonove was not just a courier; it was a keeper of secrets, a guardian of words shared only in the privacy of night. Messages sent by Moonove were often matters of great importance—whispers of war strategies, pleas for help, forbidden love letters, or news of prophecy. The Moonove's role was that of a silent confidant, its loyalty as dependable as the rising moon, and its discretion absolute. It was rare, mysterious, and invaluable—a creature that lived in the quiet spaces between worlds, bound to the night and the secrets it guarded.
"Crystal," Oliver greeted warmly, wrapping her in a friendly embrace. "It's good to see you. I'm sorry we're late. We ran into... some problems along the way."
Crystal laughed softly, pulling back to look at him. "No big deal," she replied, waving off his apology. "Go on, sit by the fire. Oh! I almost forgot—though I don't know why," she teased, casting a playful glance at him. "You're probably warm enough without it!"
Oliver laughed, a bright sound that seemed to lift the weariness from his face. "True, but my friend here could use some warming up," he said, gesturing to K.J.
Crystal's eyes softened as she turned her gaze to K.J., her smile warm and welcoming. "You must be K.J.!"
K.J. hesitated, instinctively retreating into his silence, nodding politely. He wasn't used to meeting people who were close to Oliver, and his usual wariness returned, making him feel self-conscious.
Crystal noticed, nodding with understanding. "I get it—you don't know me yet, and you don't trust easily. But Ryan's told me a lot about you, K.J." She chuckled warmly, her laughter carrying a genuine friendliness. "Your skill with a bow, how you saved them both—more than once! I trust you."
Her kindness felt as steady and comforting as the crackling of the fire she motioned them toward. "Come on in, both of you!"
K.J. stepped inside, taking in the warmth and the inviting glow of the room. The walls were lined with woven baskets and small wooden shelves filled with jars of herbs and dried flowers, filling the air with a faint, earthy scent. He removed the coat Oliver had lent him, holding it out for him to take back.
But Oliver shook his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know, K.J., you wore that coat well. Why don't you keep it? And don't," he added with a raised eyebrow, "don't even think about refusing."
K.J. looked down at the coat in his hands, feeling its warmth linger, and nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. For the first time, he allowed himself to relax, feeling the comfort of friendship and trust surrounding him.
With Crystal's warm hospitality and Oliver's reassuring presence, K.J. felt the burdens of his journey ease, if only for a moment, as the gentle warmth of the fire wrapped around them. Here, in this modest house near the river, he felt the rare gift of true peace.
Crystal moved gracefully around the small kitchen, pouring hot water into a well-worn teapot that had likely served her countless times over the years. Her movements were steady, practiced, and the gentle steam rising from the pot filled the room with a faint herbal aroma, a soothing scent that seemed to blend with the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth nearby.
"I spoke to the captain," Crystal said, glancing over her shoulder at Oliver and K.J. "He'll be leaving at first light for Westreach Port. You should be able to slip aboard quietly in the morning."
K.J. nodded as he absorbed the warmth of the fireplace, feeling its heat settle the last traces of chill from their journey. The glow from the fire cast a soft, amber light over the room, illuminating the simple comforts that filled Crystal's home. There was a handmade table with mismatched chairs, well-worn but polished clean. Wooden shelves were lined with dried herbs, small clay pots, and jars of colorful powders, each one a small detail that reflected Crystal's careful, nurturing spirit.
Crystal's voice softened as she looked at Oliver. "I'm sorry about your father, Oliver," she said gently, her hand stirring the teapot's contents as steam curled up around her face.
Oliver's gaze dropped, and his usual strength seemed to waver, just for a moment. "Thank you. It was... sudden. I didn't even have time to react or mourn properly."
K.J. turned, drawn by the tone in Oliver's voice, and watched as a quiet sadness washed over his friend's face. Oliver's shoulders slumped slightly, his jaw tense as he struggled with the weight of his loss. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and K.J. felt a pang of empathy.
Crystal noticed K.J's quiet presence as he studied the room, his eyes taking in every detail. She chuckled, a knowing look passing over her face. "What's with him?" she asked, her tone light but curious.
Oliver's lips curved into a fond smile as he glanced at K.J. "That's just K.J. He's always learning, always observing. It's how he is... he adapts to whatever's around him." There was a warmth in his voice, a note of admiration that made Crystal's brows lift slightly in recognition.
"He's special, isn't he?" she murmured, catching the subtle way Oliver's gaze softened whenever he looked at K.J.
Oliver's smile faltered, and he looked away, as if unsure how to respond. Crystal laughed knowingly, letting the silence between them answer for him.
K.J. continued his quiet exploration of the room, his gaze landing on a vanity tucked into a corner near Crystal's bedroom door. It was simple and a little worn, but sturdy, with a collection of powders and small bottles arranged carefully on top. He noticed a soft, earthy powder in a ceramic jar, its color nearly identical to the tone of Oliver's skin.
Turning the small tub of powder over in his hands, K.J. studied its texture and shade thoughtfully. An idea sparked in his mind, and he walked back to the table, setting the powder down in front of Oliver. He glanced between Oliver and Crystal, then gently took each of their arms, placing them side by side to compare their skin tones. The powder, he realized, would blend well with Oliver's complexion. He could use it to conceal the two distinctive circular birthmarks on his brow—marks that had always given away his royal identity.
Oliver looked at him, puzzled. "What are you doing, K.J.?"
Leaning closer, K.J. whispered, his voice low, "Ask her if we can take this powder."
Oliver raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Uh... Crystal, K.J. here was wondering if we could take this jar of powder."
Crystal tilted her head, a spark of curiosity lighting up her eyes. "What for?"
K.J., still hesitant to explain aloud, pointed to Oliver's birthmarks, the twin circles above and below his brow.
A look of understanding dawned on Crystal's face. "Oh, I see. You're thinking of using it to cover up those marks, so he won't be recognized as the prince." She laughed warmly. "Smart. Of course, you can take it. I have plenty more where that came from." Her laughter was light, warm, carrying a deep appreciation for K.J.'s resourcefulness.
K.J. nodded gratefully, setting the powder near the coat Oliver had given him, then settled down by the fireplace, letting the comfort of the warm room envelop him.
Crystal watched K.J. settle in, then turned to Oliver, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "You're lucky, you know."
Oliver looked at her, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Lucky?"
"Him," she said, nodding toward K.J. "You've got someone by your side who's always thinking, always watching out for you. And... I can see how much he means to you, Oliver. There's a lot of care between you two." She grinned knowingly, her eyes sparkling with the wisdom of someone who saw more than what was spoken. "Especially you, Ollie."
Oliver blinked, caught off guard by her words, his cheeks flushing slightly. "What—what are you talking about?" he stammered, attempting to dismiss her words, though his gaze drifted back to K.J., who was watching the fire with a quiet intensity.
"Oh, nothing," Crystal replied with a laugh, turning back to the stove. "I'll get the tea."
Oliver's gaze lingered on K.J., drawn by a feeling he couldn't quite name, yet couldn't ignore. There was a quiet intensity in K.J.'s face, softened by the dancing light of the fire, each flicker illuminating the calm, unguarded look in his eyes. In this rare moment, K.J. seemed almost otherworldly, his thoughts a mystery that lay beneath the surface, deep and layered. The shadows shifted over his features, hinting at stories untold, strength masked by quiet patience, and a vulnerability that seemed hidden even from himself.
Something stirred within Oliver—a pull, a connection that felt as natural as breathing yet as intense as fire. He felt the warmth rise in his chest, not like his familiar flame magic but something gentler, subtler, like an ember catching light. This sensation—this steady, almost aching warmth—was unsettling in its tenderness. He realized he was memorizing every detail of K.J.'s face, as if afraid the moment might vanish if he looked away.
There was a strange comfort in that feeling, a sense of being wholly present, as if this small, unassuming room by the river had transformed into a sanctuary for them alone. Oliver couldn't remember the last time he felt so at peace, as though he'd found something he hadn't known he was searching for.
A few moments later, Crystal guided them to a diminutive and comfortable room situated at the rear of the house. Two simple beds were arranged against the opposing walls. The room was modest, featuring a wooden chest at the foot of each bed and a solitary lantern suspended from the ceiling. A gentle breeze permeated the room through the gaps in the window, carrying the invigorating aroma of the river in conjunction with the lingering warmth emanating from the central room.
"These should do," Crystal said with a kind smile, motioning to the beds. "You'll be safe here tonight. Get some rest—you've both earned it."
K.J. nodded, giving her a small, grateful smile before settling onto the bed closest to the window. As he sat down, he glanced out, noticing that the clouds had finally parted, revealing a bright, silvery moon hanging high in the sky. The moonlight spilled through the glass, casting a soft, pale glow across the room. It bathed K.J. in its light, almost as if it was drawn to him, illuminating his thoughtful expression.
Oliver watched him for a moment before murmuring his thanks to Crystal and settling on his own bed. He lay back, letting his body sink into the mattress, though he kept one eye on K.J., sensing the quiet storm of thoughts swirling behind his calm demeanor.
K.J. seemed mesmerized by the moon. He leaned forward, his face bathed in its glow, his gaze fixed on its distant, ethereal light. Memories stirred as he watched—fragmented pieces of his past flickered in his mind. He remembered his mother's soft voice, her scent, the way her arms felt wrapped around him, protecting him. He could see glimpses of that dark night long ago, when she had urged him to hold on tightly as they rode in haste, fear laced in her whispered words.
A figure in black armor haunted his memory, a shadowy presence pursuing them relentlessly. Who had been under that helmet, and why had they wanted him and his mother? And why had she brought him to his uncle's, telling him she'd return... yet never did? Was she alive, out there somewhere? Or had that dark figure caught her after they'd parted ways?
As the questions circled, the weight of uncertainty settled over him, filling the quiet room with a sense of longing and melancholy. He wondered if he'd ever find the answers or if the truth was forever lost, hidden in the shadows of his past.
Slowly, the pull of sleep began to overtake him. His gaze softened, his eyes growing heavier, and before he realized it, his head tilted back against the pillow. The moonlight continued to pour in, casting a gentle glow over his sleeping form, as if watching over him, holding his secrets and his questions in its quiet, steadfast light.
In his dreams, the memories and mysteries wove together, forming a faint thread of hope, a sense that one day he might find the answers he sought. For now, he slept, his face peaceful in the moon's embrace, as the night deepened around them.
