The forest was silent. The silence wasn't peace—it was suffocation. A heavy blanket of stillness, soaked through with the iron tang of blood and the slow drip of rain.
Drip… drip… drip.
The sound mingled with the mud-softened earth, a cruel rhythm that echoed through the empty clearing.
Branches snapped in the distance. A figure stumbled through the treeline, cloak plastered to her skin with sweat and rain. Mei's breath came in ragged bursts, every step a battle between hope and dread. Her hands clutched a worn leather satchel tight against her chest, knuckles white. Inside were herbs, bandages, cloths she had prepared with trembling determination—medicine, not weapons.
"Dain… Ren…" Her voice cracked, half prayer, half plea. "Please… please be okay…"
Her legs carried her through sheer instinct, her heart pounding against her ribs. She broke through the final veil of trees—
And stopped.
The bag slipped from her grasp and hit the mud with a muted thud. Its contents spilled in a helpless scatter: herbs trampled by the rain, linen unraveling into the dirt.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Before her, sprawled in the sodden clearing, lay her world.
Dain's broad frame was slumped, unmoving, his sword cast aside. His face was pale, streaked with blood, his chest still but unbowed even in death. And curled at his side, as if he had tried to shield him until the end, was Ren. Small, fragile, motionless. His wooden stick—his "sword"—lay broken in the mud.
Mei's knees buckled. She stumbled forward and fell to the ground, crawling through the wet earth with trembling fingers.
"No…" Her voice came in broken gasps. "No, not like this…"
Her hands reached Dain first. She cupped his bloodied face, pressing her forehead to his cold skin. Rain mixed with tears, streaking down in silence.
"You promised me," she whispered, voice shaking as if the words themselves cut her throat. "You promised you'd come back…"
There was no answer. His eyes, once sharp with life, were empty.
Her hands shifted with desperate urgency to Ren. His small body lay nestled against his father's side, almost as though still seeking safety in the arms of the man who could no longer protect him.
Mei touched his cheek. It was still faintly warm, cruelly deceiving.
"Ren…" Her voice broke on his name. "Sweetheart… wake up. Mommy's here."
Nothing. Only rain.
Her tears blurred her sight. She shook him gently at first, then harder, her sobs rising into the storm.
"Please—please, open your eyes—look at me! Just once—" Her voice collapsed into choking gasps. "Please, baby, it's me, it's Mommy—wake up—"
The silence pressed in, smothering.
A strangled scream tore from her throat, muffled against the bloodstained fabric of his clothes as she clutched him against her chest. Her body rocked back and forth, cradling him as if sheer will alone could drag him back from the void.
"I should've been here," she sobbed. "I should've come sooner—I should've—"
The storm swallowed her grief.
And then, faint but unmistakable—
Clank. Clank. Clank.
The sound of armored boots, approaching through the trees.
Mei froze. Her sobbing cut off. Her breath caught in her chest as shadows emerged between the trunks.
Knights. Lucian's men.
She laid Ren down gently, her shaking hands reluctant to let go. Her grief iced over, replaced by something harder. Her fingers curled around the dagger at her belt, drawing it with a soft shnk. The blade shook in her grip, but her eyes burned.
The knights spread into the clearing, scanning the bodies. One knelt beside Dain, shaking his head with grudging respect.
"Even in death," he muttered, "he looks unbreakable."
Another knight was less restrained. He prodded Ren's small body with his boot and shoved him aside. Mei's knuckles whitened on the dagger's hilt. Her jaw clenched so tight she thought her teeth might crack.
"Orders," the knight said flatly. "No survivors."
"Was the boy necessary?" one of the younger knights asked, his voice low.
The answer was cut short by a familiar voice. Calm, sharp, unyielding.
"Stop wasting time."
Lucian stepped into the clearing. His presence chilled the air. His eyes swept over the corpses, and he let out a quiet, humorless scoff.
"For all your strength, you still died on your knees."
The knights chuckled uneasily. One of them—still with some sliver of decency—muttered, "Maybe we should… bury them?"
Lucian's gaze cut him down in silence. His lips curled faintly.
"Leave them. Let the beasts take them."
The words dropped like stones into Mei's chest. Her whole body trembled with rage. She wanted to scream, to lunge from the shadows, to drive her dagger through his throat—yet she forced herself to stay still. If she moved now, she would die, and their deaths would mean nothing.
Lucian turned on his heel, cloak sweeping behind him. "We've wasted enough time. Move."
The knights followed. Their boots faded into the distance.
Mei waited. Seconds bled into minutes. The silence grew heavy again.
Only when she was certain they were gone did she crawl forward. Her hands hovered above her family, helpless, trembling. She closed Dain's eyes gently, her thumb brushing across his lashes. Then she leaned down and kissed Ren's forehead, her tears falling onto his cold skin.
Her voice broke in a whisper, almost a vow. "I won't let this be the end."
The rain swallowed her words.
---
Far away, the kingdom's grand hall glowed with the light of countless torches. Golden chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, their light catching polished marble and gilded pillars. Courtiers whispered in clusters, their voices subdued beneath the crackle of fire in the braziers.
At the far end, on a throne carved of ivory and stone, the king sat in silence. His fingers drummed against the armrest, his eyes distant in thought.
The heavy doors slammed open. A man staggered in, cloaked in mud and sweat, face pale with exhaustion. Guards drew their blades, rushing forward—
"Hold," the king commanded, lifting one hand. His voice carried with calm authority.
The guards froze.
The spy collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. "Y-Your Majesty… urgent news…"
"Speak," the king said coldly.
The spy swallowed hard. His words tumbled out in a rush. "Sir Dain… and his son… they're dead."
A gasp rippled through the hall. Courtiers whispered frantically. Knights stiffened in disbelief.
At the base of the throne, Lord Cedric clenched his fists, his face red with rage. "Impossible! Dain would not fall so easily!"
The king's eyes narrowed slightly. "Who?" His voice was calm, but the steel beneath it cut the air.
The spy hesitated, then forced the words out. "Sir Lucian. He… led the attack."
The court erupted in murmurs, shock and fear twisting their voices.
Duke Alistair, tall and deliberate, stroked his beard. His tone was calculating. "Lucian wouldn't act without reason. What does he gain from this?"
The king's gaze sharpened. "And the boy?"
The spy's voice fell to a whisper. "Lucian ensured… there were no survivors."
Another ripple of hushed horror coursed through the hall.
Lord Cedric slammed his fist against the table. Goblets of wine toppled, their contents spilling like blood. "Damn him! The people will not stand for this!"
The king remained silent, his eyes unreadable.
Then the spy's voice broke again, hesitant. "He… was hunting someone."
The king leaned forward. "Who?"
The silence stretched, suffocating.
The spy bowed his head, trembling. "A child. A boy… named Reider."
The hall fell into stunned stillness. Whispers hissed through the crowd like snakes.
The king's fingers tightened on the throne's armrest. "…Reider?"
Duke Alistair's eyes widened with recognition. "It cannot be… that child?"
Lady Vael, armored and poised in the shadows of the hall, said nothing. But her hand rested on her sword, her jaw set. Her eyes never left the spy.
The king's voice lowered, cold as iron. "Lucian is a fool if he believes he can act without my sanction." He turned to Cedric. "Send word. He is to appear before me at once."
Cedric bowed deeply, though fury burned in his eyes. "Yes, Your Majesty."
The king's gaze slid back to the spy. "And the woman? Dain's wife?"
The spy swallowed. "She… escaped."
Gasps tore through the hall again.
Lady Vael's grip tightened on her hilt. Her eyes flickered with recognition, though her face betrayed nothing else.
A noble muttered from the crowd, his voice low with fear. "If she lives… she will come for vengeance."
The king's expression darkened. He knew it was true. Mei was not a woman who would fade into hiding.
Quiet thunder rolled in the distance. The king rose to his feet, his royal cloak unfurling like a storm. His presence dominated the hall, his command undeniable.
"Find her," he ordered.
Knights snapped to attention, armor clattering. Courtiers scurried. The machinery of war lurched into motion.
Lady Vael remained still. Her thoughts were hidden behind sharp, unreadable eyes.
The king glanced at her. "You knew Dain well. What will his wife do?"
Vael paused only a heartbeat. "…She will not run forever."
The king nodded. "Then we must prepare."
Outside, storm clouds gathered above the castle. The first rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, low and menacing.
War was coming.
The camera lingered on Lady Vael, her expression still a mask of steel and shadow. The pieces were moving. The next encounter was only a matter of time.
To be continued…