Location: Town olsmere
Time: Night
A line of clothes swayed gently in the cool breeze, the wet fabric glistening under the moon light.
Mira stood by the rope line, her bandaged left hand carefully folding a fresh sheet before slipping it into a basket of crisp whites clothes. The soft glow of her cherry-orange nightgown reflected the moonlight, giving her a captivating look. Her eyes looked heavy, as if her thoughts weighed her down.
Beside her, Mrs. Trinket also folded clean clothes steadily, her wrinkled hands moving with a nurse's precision. It was only when she caught Mira's expression that she paused. Trinket's brow furrowed as she bent over curiously trying to inquire what troubled mira.
"Mira?" she called softly, setting the sheet aside. She stepped closer and gently took Mira's hands, her touch warm despite the night's chill.
"Something troubles you child, what is it?." Trinket urged gently, guiding Mira to sit on a nearby wooden bench, her gaze kept steady on her, trying to coax Mira out of her silence.
Mira blinked hard, as she forced herself to speak . "Ever since the day of the attack… I haven't been myself," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I didn't tell anyone because I was still trying to make sense of it all — but I can't hold it in anymore."
Her voice trembled as she finally said it. "I saw your brother… Oriyn, die… "
Trinket's eyes widened slightly, the shock evident even in her weathered face. Her hands loosened around Mira's for just a second before she quickly steadied herself.
"No one should have to go like that," Mira whispered, her eye meeting Trinket's eyes.
The old nurse swallowed hard, then forced a small, warm smile. "Was that drunk brother of mine laughing when you saw him last?" she asked softly, her tone almost teasing.
Mira gave a shaky exhale. "He was. Jolly and loud, just like always. But…" Her voice faltered. "The more I think about it, the less sense it makes."
"What do you mean, dear?" Trinket asked, her curiosity piqued but her voice still calm.
"The attack on Asterra — the one that took Oriyn from you, and my son from me…" Mira clenched her fists, as she spoke with urgency. "Why do I feel, deep down, that it was all a farce?"
"Mira…" Trinket said again, this time gently, trying to calm her.
"On that day, everyone casted blames on Lord Eryndor without a single piece of real proof!" Mira's voice rose slightly, the emotion in her tone spilling over. "No one saw his men start the attack. No one saw him give the order. I was there, i watched everything burn. The attack happened too fast, too perfectly, as if it had been planted, as if it was staged!"
"Mira." Trinket's voice sharpened this time, cutting through Mira's words. Her eyes locking onto miras eyes, but more firm this time.
"I know how much you hurt. I hurt too," Trinket said quietly, her voice almost trembling. "I never had children, so I loved Oriyn like a son. His death broke me. And Lord Eryndor…" Trinket's gaze dropped briefly before she continued, her tone softer now. "He loved the people. That was true. But, Mira… people change. Sometimes in ways we never expect."
She let go of Mira's hands and sighed heavily, tryinb to relieve herself.
"In my years as a nurse, I have seen good men turn cruel overnight. Ambition changes people, fear changes people, even love changes them. What happened was political, far bigger than us, and if Lord Eryndor was truly innocent…" Trinket's voice slowed, "…then God Himself would have saved him."
Mira's eyes widened, her face contorting with confusion and a flash of anger. She clenched her jaw, her brow furrowing as though she wanted to shout but couldn't find the words. Her body trembled, her frustration and grief loosening.
Then, Mira's voice roared with anger.
"Lord Eryndor gave us peace for six whole years, Mrs. Trinket! Six years without war, without violence! How can everyone be this blind?"
Trinket's face hardened, her tone sharper than before.
"Blind? Mira, do you know what you're saying? People lost their homes. Families were torn apart. And that weapon — that cursed weapon — belonged to Lord Eryndor alone! How can you say this after being a victim yourself?"
Mira stood slowly, her fists trembling at her sides, her breath quick and shallow.
"Lord Eryndor is the reason Olsmere thrives!" she cried. "Olsmere was nothing but a quack village six years ago. Then he rebuilt olsmere, gave us hope, made us into a prosper town — and still Asterra called for his death. Has it never crossed your mind that he might have been framed?"
"Mira…" Trinket's tone softened again, her voice pleading. "He was not your brother, nor your father, nor your kin. You could be very wrong about him. Please, child, don't speak like this. Everyone here has suffered — if you defend Eryndor too loudly, they will brand you a traitor too."
"I looked up to him," Mira said, her voice breaking. "I wanted to be like him. To be good like him. And now…" She paused, her lip quivering as tears filled her eyes.
"I don't even mourn my child well anymore. What haunts me is thinking my child may have died because of a lie. And what haunts me the most, is feeling your brother and my child didnt get the justice they deserve."
Miras fists tightened until her knuckles went white.
"I'll be in my tent, Mrs. Trinket… I'm sorry."
She turned sharply, storming away from the clothesline. Her steps were quick and angry, her tears pouring— rolling hot down her cheeks as she crossed the open field.
"Mira!" Trinket called after her, but Mira didn't stop.
The nurse slowly sat back on the bench, her hands falling on the basket of clean laundry. Her expression wavered, as though Mira's words had struck deeper than she wanted to admit.
Mira walked faster now, clutching her bandaged left arm against her chest. She glanced toward the town, where a few townsfolk still lingered, moving about their evening chores.
Then she felt a flicker of movement.
Her heart skipped as she spun around, scanning the shadows. But couldnt find anyone.
She turned back looking around, and with a quickening pace, she began to flee, but the unease she felt grew.
Suddenly, Another flicker — closer this time.
She turned with fear again, her eyes darting around the darkened field, the sound of footsteps amplified — the rustle of leaves, the creak of a door in the wind.
And then.
A broad figure stepped out from the shadows, his face hidden but his teeth glinting in a wide grin.
Before she could scream, his hand clamped around her throat, shutting off her voice. Mira's pupils widened in terror, her legs kicking against the dirt. She clawed at his arm, but it was like hitting stone.
Her vision began to blur, the world tilting around her. She could hear her heart pounding, as she drifted slowly into unconciousness.
"What a nice little girl…" the man hissed, his voice low and harsh. "Shhh. We're going to have so much fun together."
Tears, dropped from the corners of her eyes. Her last sight was the moon, pale and distant above, before she plunged into darkness.
The man hoisted her effortlessly onto his shoulder and stepped back into the shadows, completing his abduction of mira.
Location: Valesse Frost Haven – Outside Asterra
Ardyn laid on one of the cushioned beds prepared for him, a cool towel resting gently across his forehead. The faint glow of an oil lamp bathed the tent in warmth. Outside, the wind howled, blowing cool breeze into his tent.
Ardyn's body twitched. His fingers curled and uncurled, his toes flexed, all moving involuntarily. His face, tight, his brows furrowed as if he wrestled with a nightmare.
Then the dream began.
Ardyn found himself walking away from a butchers stall, with a quickened pace. Suddenly, the world he witnessed, shifted, his body instantly swapping locations, as he stood frozen before a burning town. Nareth.
Flames consumed the night sky, crackling and spitting embers.
Beside him stood a green haired female figure, as she stepped past him, disappearing into the night.
Suddenly, voices rang out, loud and desperate, within the burning town nareth.
"These houses have underground exits and sewage tunnels! Find who you can, drag them out, get them through! Go, go!"
Ardyn turns to see Jori the bricklayer, his face smeared with ash, shouting orders while yanking a hose to spray the flames.
The dream shifted again.
Now, Ardyn stood before a wooden door, his small hands trembling. The air was thick with heat, while his heart pounded in his chest.
"Mum! Tia! Samuel!" he cried, his voice cracking as he reached for the handle.
The door swelled like a ballon, cracking at every rise, smoke bleeding through the gaps on the door — and then.
A deafening boom tore through the scene. The door blew apart, light and heat swallowing everything.
Ardyn immediately jolts awake, as he sat upright with force his hand still outstretched like he was reaching for the door. His breathing was rapid as it began to cool. For a moment, he simply sat there, staring at nothing.
Then he noticed Daylight spilled into his tent through a flap, and the distant sound of footsteps and morning chatter reminded him where he was. Slowly, Ardyn let his hand fall to his lap, drew a deep breath, and stood.
When he stepped outside, the morning sun hit his face, bright and cold. Valesse Frost Haven was alive — tents stood firm against the snowy winds, steam hissed softly from gear wagons, and companions moved about in their fur-lined coats, starting their day.
The wind bit against Ardyn's bare skin. He wore only loose trousers, his feet unprotected against the cold grounds.
"The boy's awake!" Aaron's deep voice called, drawing the attention of several camp members towards ardyn.
Tom emerged from one of the supply tents, carrying a heavy box in his massive hands. His towering figure cast a long shadow as he stopped in front of Ardyn, looking him over.
"Arydyn…" Tom said, his thick voice softened with humor. "Looks like you've come back from the dead a second time."
Ardyn lowered his head slightly. "I apologize for the trouble, Sir Tom."
Tom chuckled, shaking his head. "It's alright, lad." He shifted the box on his shoulder and nodded, gesturing toward a larger tent.
"Come — Lady Liora is in there, she will love to see you."
Tom started walking again, his heavy boots crunching against the frost, as he marched into lioras tent.
"And for the love of god," he called oit, "put on a coat, boy, or you'll catch your a cold out here!"
Ardyn drew a small smile before stepping back inside his tent to find something warm to wear.
Liora sat behind her desk inside her tent, the morning light spilling through the flap onto the table. Maps lay spread before her, by the side of the table, open books scrolls scattered.
Her pen writing steadily, until Tom stepped inside, setting a heavy box down with a dull thud.
"The boy is awake," Tom said, brushing his hands together, putting dust aside. "I called for him — thought you'd want to see him."
Liora looked up immediately, interest lighting her face. "Where is he?"
Tom stepped aside, revealing ardyn standing tall.
Ardyn entered into the tents quietly. His brown hair catching the sunlight streaming into the tent, his face looking bright and sharp.
"Good morning, Lady Liora," Ardyn said with a small bow before glancing between liora and Tom.
Moments later, the three of them walked between the tents, Tom following behind as Liora led the way.
"We lay the remaining members of your town to rest today," she says to ardyn gently as they marched towards the gathering of a small crowd. "Would you like to see if you recognize anyone?"
Ardyn nodded silently. People moved aside as liora, ardyn and tom approached the wagon. Liora reached for the sheet covering the five bodies and slowly drew it back.
"Do you recognize anyone?" she asked softly.
Ardyn swallowed, staring for a long moment before answering. "Yes… some of these men went with me to save people from the burning houses."
Liora's expression softened. "I see. Since we don't know the mystery behind your return to life, we've decided not to bury them in the ground just yet. They will be laid in a nearby protected cave. If by some miracle they also awaken, we want them preserved."
"We did the embalming process too," Tom added quietly. "Just in case"
Ardyn nodded, his voice low. "It's alright… I understand."
Liora gave a short nod as Aaron started the wagon, its wheels crunching softly over the frost as the dead were taken away for their final rest.
Turning back toward the tents, Liora began walking again, her fur-lined coat fluttering in the wind. "We've divided everyone into groups to push the development of this settlement. I'd like you to work with me directly, ardyn."
Ardyn followed in silence until she spoke again.
"I'll be leaving for Asterra later today to meet with Master Yeru. And youll accompany me."
"Yes, Lady Liora," Ardyn said quickly. His eyes drifted toward Tom, who grunted as they walked.
"Don't you think it's too early to have arydyn traveling again, my lady?" Tom asked. "What if he collapses?"
"Ardyn, sir…" Ardyn interrupted softly.
Tom raised a brow. "What?"
"You said Ary…dyn. It's just Ardyn, sir," the boy corrected with a shy smile.
Tom chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, Ardyn."
Liora smiled faintly at the exchange before stopping to face ardyn. Her sharp eyes scanned his expression as though reading him. "How do you feel?"
"I feel better than yesterday," Ardyn replied, though his expression still felt like he haboured weight within him.
Liora placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "Is something troubling you? You can speak freely — we are here for you."
Ardyn hesitated for a moment, his lips pressing together before he spoke. "Thank you, Lady Liora, for everything. I'll do my best to help out here."
Liora studied him with quietly as Ardyn bowed slightly and turned away, heading toward his tent.
Tom watched him go, then leaned toward Liora. "Is it just me, or does the boy look like he grew overnight?"
Liora gazes still fixed on Ardyn with a small blush on her cheeks, her expression lighter. "Now that you mention it… yes, he does."
Tom grunts playfully, as liora turned, slipping back into her tent without another word.