As the royal aides dispersed to carry out their orders and the echoes of the throne room quieted, Queen Sylthana's sharp eyes softened with a trace of warmth. She stepped down from the dais, her silver gown trailing like moonlight across the marble.
"Crimson," she said with a gentle smile, her voice no longer the voice of a queen, but that of a mother. "Tonight, before your departure tomorrow, we would be honored if you would join us for a private family dinner."
King Thalorien, still standing at her side, nodded in agreement, the proud lines on his face easing.
"It has been far too long since we've had you beneath this roof. And given the circumstances…" He gave a pointed glance toward his eldest daughter, who stood nearby trying to appear composed—though the pink blush creeping into her cheeks betrayed her.
The king's lips curled into a rare smirk.
"We believe there are… matters of the heart that deserve proper discussion."
Queen Sylthana chuckled softly, casting a knowing look between Crimson and Elaria.
"Yes. After all, we cannot have our daughter chasing after you through monster-infested borders without formally addressing your long-overdue engagement."
Elaria's sapphire eyes widened slightly as her cheeks deepened to a luminous red.
"Mother… Father…!" She whispered, barely able to hide the mixture of embarrassment and joy in her voice.
Crimson blinked caught between amusement and a sudden stiffness in his posture.
"…You haven't changed at all," he murmured, smiling faintly. He looked at Elaria, his expression softening.
"I'd be honored to join you both for dinner."
King Thalorien gave a pleased nod.
"Excellent. We will dine in the Moonlight Hall tonight. Just us and our family. One last quiet evening before the storm."
And with that, the atmosphere lightened for a moment. A brief reprieve filled not with politics or war, but with the bonds of love, kinship, and old promises that refused to fade with time.
After a while….
As the tall doors of the throne room slowly closed behind them, the echo of their footsteps filled the grand corridor of Moonveil Palace. The soft glow of enchanted lanterns cast shimmering reflections across the polished marble floor as the trio walked side by side. Crimson in the center, flanked by Princess Elaria and Princess Arwen.
They walked in a comfortable silence for a few moments—until Arwen suddenly stopped in her tracks with a playful grin.
"Ah! I just remembered," she said, placing a finger to her chin with mock seriousness. "There's something important I need to take care of before dinner."
Elaria blinked, turning to her sister.
"Important? What is it?"
Arwen gave a mischievous giggle, stepping backward down another hall.
"Oh, just a few last minute... preparations." She leaned to the side and winked. "I'll leave the lovebirds alone for a little while."
Elaria's eyes widened, her cheeks immediately flushing a soft pink.
"Arwen!" She hissed, half-scolding, half-embarrassed.
Crimson raised a brow, glancing between the two sisters, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Arwen gave a carefree twirl, her silver-blonde hair spinning behind her as she waved over her shoulder.
"Don't be late for dinner~!" She called in a singsong voice as she disappeared around a corner.
Elaria let out a quiet sigh, placing a hand to her face in exasperation.
"She hasn't changed one bit…" she muttered, but there was affection in her voice. She glanced at Crimson and quickly looked away again, flustered.
"…Don't listen to her."
Crimson chuckled softly, his tone teasing but warm.
"I didn't say anything."
They continued down the hallway together, the palace quiet and calm around them—yet beneath the surface, the storm of emotions and fate continued to stir.
The quiet hush of the palace corridor slowly gave way to the soft whisper of wind and birdsong as Princess Elaria guided Crimson down a side passage. She didn't speak, but her fingers gently brushed his gauntleted hand just barely touching before curling around it with shy boldness. Crimson glanced down, surprised by the gesture, but didn't pull away. Instead, he allowed her to lead him, their steps falling into silent rhythm.
A moment later, they stepped through an arched doorway into a breathtaking courtyard bathed in silver twilight.
Moonlight filtered through a canopy of tall, ancient trees whose glowing blossoms shimmered like stardust. A gentle stream flowed through the garden, its waters glimmering with magic, casting soft reflections against the stone path and white flowers blooming along its banks. The air was sweet with the scent of elven roses and dream lilies, the fragrance calming and intoxicating.
Elaria stopped at the center of the courtyard, near a carved marble bench beneath a tree of pale gold leaves. She turned to him, her sapphire eyes glimmering beneath the starlight.
"This place has always been my sanctuary," she said softly, her voice barely louder than the breeze. "Whenever I felt lost… I would come here and remember the days before the war. The days when you were still with us."
Crimson looked around slowly, taking in the beauty but his gaze soon returned to her.
"It suits you," he said. "Peaceful… radiant… timeless."
Elaria smiled faintly, then took a breath, her expression vulnerable.
"Crimson… I waited. All these years. I never gave up hope. Even when others said you were lost forever… I knew, my heart knew you were alive."
He stepped closer, his hand gently lifting to brush a strand of silver-white hair from her cheek.
"I never forgot you, Elaria." His voice was quiet, deep. "Not for a moment. Even when the world changed… the thought of you never left me."
She closed the distance between them, placing a hand over his chest where his heartbeat pulsed beneath the armor.
"Then… don't leave again. Not without letting me walk beside you."
Crimson hesitated for only a breath. The years of battle, duty, and burden had hardened him—but in her presence, those walls began to crumble. He reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a reverent kiss to her fingers.
"As long as you wish to stand beside me," he said, his eyes locked with hers, "I will never walk alone again."
Elaria's eyes shimmered with emotion. The moment held them in its grasp, wrapped in moonlight, surrounded by memories and quiet promises.
Then, gently, she leaned forward resting her head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her like a vow that would not break.
The night was still, and the stars above seemed to shine brighter for them as if the heavens, too, remembered the love that had once been, and was now being reborn.
After nearly an hour of gentle stillness beneath the moonlit blossoms, Crimson and Princess Elaria remained in a quiet embrace beneath the golden-leaved tree, speaking little, savoring the rare calm between them. Her head rested peacefully against his shoulder, his arms still wrapped around her in silent promise.
The gentle rustling of wind through the trees and the distant sound of running water filled the courtyard with a serene lullaby, until the faint sound of approaching footsteps slowly intruded.
A young elven servant, no more than a handmaiden in soft silks, stood just beyond the archway. She clutched the edge of her gown nervously, biting her lip as her eyes fell upon the tender scene before her. Crimson's cloak trailed over the stone, Elaria's silver hair shimmered in the moonlight like threads of light caught in his arms, it was like something out of an old ballad.
The servant hesitated, visibly conflicted, and then took a cautious step forward. Her shoes barely made a sound, but even the softest of movements seemed loud against the hush of the courtyard.
She took a breath, gathering courage, and spoke with a voice so delicate it could have been mistaken for the wind.
"P-Princess Elaria… Lord Crimson…"
Elaria stirred slightly, lifting her head, blinking as though returning from a dream. Crimson looked up as well, his expression soft but alert. The girl lowered her head in a respectful bow.
"Forgive me… I did not wish to interrupt," she said quickly, her cheeks flushed. "But Her Majesty the Queen has requested your presence… the evening dinner is soon to begin."
Elaria smiled kindly, brushing her hair back as she stepped away from Crimson with quiet grace.
"Thank you. And don't worry, you didn't disturb anything. We were just…" She glanced at Crimson, a playful light in her eyes. "…catching up on fifty years of silence."
Crimson gave a faint, amused smirk, adjusting his cloak as he stood.
The servant smiled shyly and bowed again before stepping aside to allow them to pass.
Hand in hand, the two began walking back toward the palace, leaving the silver courtyard behind—but carrying its warmth with them.
As Crimson and Princess Elaria stepped back into the palace halls, the soft echo of their footsteps followed them through the grand corridors bathed in pale silver glow. Ornate lanterns hung from the carved arches above, their enchanted lights shimmering like stars caught in crystal, casting graceful patterns across the polished marble floor.
Waiting just ahead, another servant stood with perfect posture, an older elf in formal attire, his bearing that of a seasoned attendant of the royal court. He bowed deeply the moment he saw them approach.
"Lord Crimson, Princess Elaria," he greeted with quiet reverence. "Her Majesty has asked me to escort you both to the Moonlight Hall. The royal dinner is prepared and awaits your presence."
Elaria nodded, still smiling from their moment in the courtyard, though her hand remained gently looped through Crimson's arm.
"Lead the way," she said softly.
The servant turned with a graceful gesture, and the trio began walking deeper into the heart of Moonveil Palace. The corridor widened, transitioning into an elegant passage flanked by stained glass windows depicting ancient elven history—the founding of Alariel, the fall of the Holy Remia Empire, and the Liberation War, in which a familiar crimson figure stood among the legendary warriors.
Crimson slowed slightly as they passed the glass mural that bore his likeness, depicted mid-battle in flowing red against a backdrop of fire and shadow. Elaria glanced at him with a knowing look, her voice a soft murmur.
"You're more than a legend in these halls… you're part of our story."
He met her gaze and offered a quiet reply,
"And your story is what gave me purpose."
They arrived at a set of tall, moonstone-carved double doors, guarded by two silent sentinels in polished armor. With a respectful nod from the lead servant, the doors opened with a gentle hum of magic, revealing the interior of the Moonlight Hall.
The hall was breathtaking.
Silver chandeliers floated above the long crescent-shaped dining table, suspended in midair by soft enchantments. Moonlight streamed down from the circular skylight in the domed ceiling, bathing the entire room in a divine glow. Crystal decanters shimmered on the table, and fresh fruits, golden breads, fine meats, and rare elven delicacies were laid out with impeccable care.
At the far end of the hall, Queen Sylthana and King Thalorien were already seated, speaking quietly to one another. They both looked up with warm smiles as Crimson and Elaria entered.
The Queen, radiant in a flowing gown of twilight silk, rose slightly from her seat.
"There you are," she said gently. "We were beginning to wonder if the stars had caught you in their spell."
King Thalorien gave a soft chuckle, his white hair gleaming like frost beneath the lights.
"Come, sit. We have much to share… and a great deal to celebrate."
Crimson bowed his head respectfully as he and Elaria approached the table.
As Crimson and Princess Elaria sat beside one another, the soft clink of silverware and the fragrant aroma of the royal feast filled the air. Elegant servants moved quietly, placing polished plates before them—roasted starfall boar, moonblossom salad, honey-glazed rootfruit, and freshly baked elven bread still warm from the ovens. The atmosphere was peaceful, touched by a quiet grace that only the palace of Moonveil could offer.
Crimson glanced at Elaria, her face softly illuminated by the silver chandeliers above, her sapphire eyes reflecting the calm joy of the moment. He allowed himself a small, content smile.
Suddenly, the large double doors to the Moonlight Hall opened once more, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in.
"Sorry I'm late!" came a cheerful voice.
Everyone turned to see Princess Arwen entering with a bright smile, strands of her silver hair slightly tousled from her rush. Her light armor was replaced by a flowing gown of soft greens and silver, though her boots hinted she hadn't fully changed for the formal meal.
"I was just making sure everything's packed and ready for our trip," she added, walking briskly toward the table. "Can't go marching west without proper supplies, can we?"
The room let out a soft chuckle, even the King and Queen exchanging amused glances. Crimson nodded politely to Arwen as she took her seat opposite them, her eyes gleaming with the usual spark of mischief.
Once the servants had finished pouring the wine and the hum of activity faded into quiet conversation, a moment of stillness passed over the table.
It was Queen Sylthana who broke the silence first, her tone gentle—but unmistakably pointed.
"Crimson," she said, her hands folded delicately before her, "you have always been dear to our family… but now that you've returned, we must ask plainly."
King Thalorien leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but direct.
"Are you ready to marry our daughter Princess Elaria?"
The question fell like a quiet bell in the room—clear, sincere, and heavy with the weight of years and feeling.
Crimson looked at them, his expression still. Then he slowly turned his gaze to Elaria beside him.
Her eyes were wide not in surprise, but in hope.
The candles flickered softly as everyone awaited his answer.
Meanwhile, back in the capital city of the Heartless Republic Harmony City
Two days had passed since Crimson Aegis, the legendary founder and High Elder of the Heartless Guild, had departed for the western border. But even in his absence, the very heart of the republic was alive with purpose and excitement.
A sea of people had gathered — millions strong.
Down every street, in every plaza, and across the many levels of Harmony City, a single sight dominated the landscape: the insignia of the Heartless Guild. Stitched on cloaks, painted on shields, engraved on armor, or etched into accessories, the symbol stood proud — a cross flanked by two swords in an "X" — the national emblem of the republic, and the banner under which both legend and loyalty marched.
Today was no ordinary day.
The Assembly of the Heartless Guild, a grand event only called under the most serious of circumstances had been declared. And now, the guild's full might had arrived.
Players from every corner of the world had answered the call. Some were grizzled veterans who had fought in wars beside Crimson during the Liberation and Unification War. Others were rising stars, fierce and loyal, carrying on the legacy. Alongside them marched countless NPC subordinates, loyal retainers, warriors, mages, artisans, strategists all bound by blood oaths, service, or admiration for the guild and its founding ideals.
The city itself throbbed with energy. Harmony's normally structured streets had taken on a festive glow. Merchants shouted cheerfully from stalls adorned in red and black, selling rare materials, equipment, guild banners, and souvenirs. Tavern doors swung wide, full to bursting with camaraderie and tension. The economy had exploded overnight, tripling in value as gold flowed like wine and businesses bloomed in the shadow of history being written once again.
Even local citizens watched in awe from balconies and rooftops. Many had once been liberated during the war, their loyalty to the guild just as real and steadfast as any player's. They too bore the insignia proudly, raising banners high from towers and homes.
At the heart of the city, a massive obsidian platform had been constructed in Harmony Plaza, the command square where official declarations of the Heartless Guild were made. It now stood silent, awaiting only one voice.
And though Crimson was not yet present… his presence was everywhere, in the chants, in the banners, in the eyes of every soldier and citizen. His orders had gone out.
The gathering was only beginning.
For though the western border stirred with darkness and the threat of war loomed heavy in the air, the Heartless Guild was awake.
And the world would soon remember what it meant when legends called their army home.
Inside a majestic Palace, the grand hall trembled with a fiery storm of emotion. The towering marble columns, polished obsidian floors, and glowing sigils of the Heartless Guild that decorated the vast chamber now echoed with the sharp, demanding voice of a woman whose presence turned heads and silenced the boldest of warriors.
"Where is my brother!?" Roared Catherine Alexandria Luxembourg y Habsburg Přemyslid, her black, silken hair flowing behind her like a shadow given form. Her violet eyes blazed with fury and worry, her elegant features twisted in righteous frustration. Though regal in bearing and breathtaking in beauty—like a goddess torn from legend—her voice carried the weight of command and power, shaking the air around her.
The chamber was filled with dozens of figures, both current and former High Elders of the Heartless Guild. Some stood stoically, others shifted uncomfortably under her glare. Catherine rarely lost her temper so when she did, even legends listened.
"Six days!" Roared Catherine Alexandria Luxembourg y Habsburg Přemyslid, her eyes flashing with indignant fury. "Six days I have not seen my younger brother! Not a single word. Not a shadow. And none of you saw fit to inform me?"
Her dark cloak swept behind her like wings of wrath, the polished floor echoing her boots with every step. Servants scattered at her approach, and aides stood frozen by the towering pillars as Catherine confronted the gathered veterans of the guild.
Before her stood the past High Elders: Xiao Li Jing, Irina, Sir Pendragon, SalahAdDīn, and Moonlight Fury.
Flanking them were the current High Elders: Erondil, Gudrick, and Christopher.
"Lady Catherine," said Erondil, his voice calm but cautious, "Master Crimson left under classified orders. He instructed us not to cause a stir."
Catherine snapped her gaze toward him. "I am not some outsider to be kept in the dark. I am the Associate Executor of the Coercitor Branch and the Vice Grand Guild Master of all the Knight Orders under this Guild! If my brother was sent into danger, I should have been told!"
The young elder flinched, looking away.
Before she could press further, one of the aides rushed in, carrying a sealed parchment. He handed it to Gudrick with a bow.
"There's a report from Windsong," Gudrick muttered after scanning the scroll. "Crimson was seen there… selling off items in the NAA Branch. That's all we've got."
Catherine exhaled sharply, a cold smirk replacing her fury. "Of course. Dropping off loot like nothing happened."
She turned on her heel, voice filled with iron resolve. "Enough. Ready the Knight Orders. Alert the Coercitor branches in nearby sectors and prepare my elite unit I'm going to the western border."
"You're going?" Christopher asked, uneasily.
"I am," she said flatly. "I will not let my only family left be in danger again. Not this time."
Without waiting for a response, Catherine strode out of the chamber, each step resonating with power and intent.
And as the heavy doors shut behind her, even the mightiest leaders of the Heartless Guild said nothing for the storm had now taken form.