The night was quiet in a village on the outskirts of Aria—the Kingdom of Gold. An old woman had just laid her head upon her mat when the sound of little footsteps filled her hut. The children tiptoed in, their eyes bright and wide with mischief and sleepiness.
"Grandmother," one of them whispered, tugging at her sleeve, "tell us a story before we sleep."
The old woman sighed, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Ah, you little fireflies," she murmured, "always chasing stories when your eyes should already be closed." She shifted slowly, resting her back against the wall. "Very well then… listen carefully, for this is not a tale of laughter, but one the village has never forgotten."
The children huddled close. A little boy called Kabir ran in with a small clay pot of bean cakes as she began.
"Long ago, in a village not too far beyond the Ji River, there lived a little girl no older than five or six. One evening, she wandered away from her home and found a cave hidden among the hills. Inside, she saw a crystal shining with a blue light, as if the very heart of the sky had been trapped within stone. The reflection of the crystal in her big, wide eyes, that moment that was the only thing she wanted, and she knew it the moment she saw that crystal stuck on the cave wall. She touched it, and at once her body glowed, so bright it seemed the night itself bowed before her. For four days and nights, the glow did not leave her. The villagers grew afraid. They whispered that she was no longer a child, but a demon reborn… that one day she would destroy them all. They gathered wood and tied her to a tree, ready to burn her in order to keep the darkness away."
"But her parents wept and pleaded. And though fear was heavy in their hearts, this village was a place of compassion. In the end, they could not burn a child. On the seventh day, they spared her."
The old woman's voice grew softer, her eyelids heavy as she leaned her head back. The children sat in silence until one of them finally whispered, "Grandmother… what happened to the girl after that?"
For a moment, the old woman did not answer. Then, with a faint smile and eyes that seemed to look far beyond the room, she said, "Some say she disappeared into the mountains, where the crystal first called her. Others say she still walks among us as she is—the same—her glow hidden until the world has need of her again. But remember this, children…" Her voice dropped into a hushed whisper. "The blue light never truly left her. It only sleeps."
And with that, the grandmother closed her eyes, leaving the children staring wide-eyed into the shadows, wondering if the story had ended or only just begun.
It had been only a few days since whispers reached our halls—strangers were coming from the Qua Zi Empire. When they finally arrived, the gates of Crystansia opened wide, and the men among them were led through the castle grounds into the throne room. Little Bomi and some of her brothers and sisters watched from the balcony above as they bowed low before the king.
I knew little. All I knew was that they were sent to inspect the princess promised to the Third Prince of Qua Zi. The two women who came with the men were taken to the inner chambers, where I waited. The room was dim, scented faintly with lavender. I wore only a light linen wrap around my body, thin as breath. They said nothing as they circled me lifting the cloth, tracing my arms and shoulders, their eyes sharp as blades. They checked my skin for scars, my nails, my hair. One of them made me open my mouth; another peered into my ears and nostrils, murmuring something about purity. I said nothing. When they were done, they nodded to each other.
Outside the door, I could see my mother's shadow waiting. When the women left, they were led to the waiting chambers where the men sat.
"She is perfect," one of them said.
Later, the emissaries bowed once more before the king, offering their thanks.
After they departed, the other girls surrounded me, their voices rising like birds in the courtyard.
"What did they do to you, Korj?" one of them asked.
I told them the truth. "They even checked my mouth, ears, and nostrils. Then they said nothing else… and touched every inch of my skin and legs."
A few girls gasped softly; some exchanged glances. I saw jealousy glint in a few eyes, while others smiled shyly, proud on my behalf. But one of them, Lessa, crossed her arms and said coldly, "You shouldn't have been the one chosen. It isn't right."
Her words hung heavy in the air.
I saw some of the servants looking in my direction; a familiar face was smiling at me. I smiled back.
Later, we learned that the girl who was first meant to marry the Third Prince was now promised to the Thirteenth Prince instead, an eight-year-old child. She would wait until he was of age to wed.
That night, the emissaries departed. The people of Crystansia watched their carriages roll through the gate. But as they passed beneath the old oak trees, one of the men signaled to another. When the guards turned their heads, one slipped from the carriage. His face vanished behind a mask, and within a heartbeat, he disappeared into the forest shadows.
No one noticed. The carriages kept moving. Crystansia slept, unaware that something dark had already entered its walls.
Two days passed after the visit of the emissaries.
"My King," the shaman said, his voice calm but heavy with meaning, "the blue girl was found close to our borders. It could mean she was in search of something."
The King leaned forward on his throne, his gold rings clinking softly against the armrest. "And what," he asked, his voice a low thunder, "could I possibly have that she would seek? And why not come directly to me?"
The shaman shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Your Majesty. What she seeks is not something ordinary. It could be… someone."
The King's brow furrowed. "Someone?" he echoed. "Who is this blue girl you speak of?"
The shaman stepped closer to the fire pit in the center of the hall. The flames cast strange shadows over his wrinkled face as he began, "It is an old story, My King. Centuries ago, there was a child born with blue skin. Her village feared her and sought to destroy her. But she was spared… until she turned ten. Then she stopped aging. Her parents grew old, withered, and died, while she remained as she was, a child forever. Some say she buried the people she loved near the Ji River; others say she scattered their ashes into its waters. After that, she vanished. A child of sorrow, a being untouched by time."
The hall was silent except for the crackling of the fire.
Suddenly, the heavy doors burst open. A knight rushed in, breathing hard, his armor clattering. "My King!" he called, his voice strained. "We are being attacked!"
The King rose sharply. "Who dares?"
"The Qua Zi Empire, Your Majesty!"
The King's eyes widened. He turned to the shaman. The shaman met his gaze grimly, then threw a handful of gray powder into the fire. Smoke erupted, swirling and hissing. His eyes widened with horror as he saw what the flames revealed.
"It has already begun," he whispered.
From the east wing, I heard the shouting. When I stepped out from my chamber, the corridors were chaos. The princes were being escorted by knights; the princesses gathered in clusters, frightened and crying.
From the far corridor, I could see through the open gates of the great hall, men arming themselves, swords drawn, shields raised. The clang of steel echoed through the marble floors.
Then I saw the castle gates swing open. Villagers flooded toward them begging, screaming. But soon, the gates were slammed shut again.
The sound still rings in my ears, fists pounding on wood.A woman, heavy with child, crying for mercy.A man pulling his children close as he shouted for help.An old man kneeling, his voice breaking.
But the gates did not open.
I ran back to my room, heart racing. "Bomi!" I called. "Bomi, where are you?"Silence.