The continent of Solmele was vast and thriving. its has one empire and 5 kingdoms stretched across its lands, but only one stood above them all the Empire of Aurellion, whose banner reached from the northern snows to the plains at the continent's heart. The Empire had been strong since the day it was founded, its rule woven into the bones of Solmele itself.
Arian remembers reading the the books that talked about the heros of the dark ages. a golden dragon, high elf, dwarf king, and a human boy—an orphan knight—who stood together to face the Demon Lord ten thousand years ago. They won the war that was said to be unwinnable. They sealed the Demon Realm and struck down its ruler.
But victory came at a terrible cost. The dragons perished. The elves' World Tree was weakened. The dwarves vanished. Only humans remained and elves of the ancient race's , holding on to what was left.
For a while,everyone believed that the peace had finally come, it didn't take a hundred years after defeating the Demon lord for them to realize that there was a sickness that had unleashed itself in to this world.
they learned too late that the Demon Lord was never just a being he was a curse, an energy. When his vessel was destroyed, that energy spilled into the world, infecting land, beasts, even the air itself.
That was the first time miasma was introduced to the world
The miasma couldn't be stopped, only slowed. It drained the life from forests, turned soil barren, and made the air poisonous. Any who breathed it for a while grew weak and died within a year. The world was dying slowly, piece by piece.
Each kingdom fought it in its own way, losing both land and people to the corruption. The Empire, strongest of them all, suffered the least.
Arian was grateful that Solmele continent was vast enough for the corruption to spread slowly. Rowan was already stationed at the border, fighting back the infected beasts that are now called demonic beasts away from Empire land.
The carriage jolted suddenly cutting his line of thoughts, one wheel thudding hard against something. Arian was thrown slightly forward, his hand catching the edge of the seat to steady himself, he was frightened for a moment.
He sat up straighter, forcing his back against the seat, trying to breathe through the sudden rush in his chest.Every passing minute brought him closer to a situation he really wanted to avoid, he really didn't want to go to royal palace and face the Emperor.
Arian watched the blurred world slip past the fogged window. He had been on this road only once before the day they buried Seraphina.
Now he was on it again.
Beside him rested a wooden box, no bigger than a sewing chest, bound in brass with a small lock shaped like the royal crest. It had once belonged to Seraphina.
Inside were things that tied her to the crown, jewels, books, and a necklace and hairpin he remembered seeing in her hair the last time she visited home. After the Empress's death, everything connected to the royal treasury had to be returned. That was the rule.
The Duchess had arranged it all with her usual efficiency and had asked him, of all people, to deliver it.
He hadn't -couldn't- argued.
Arian looked at his reflection in the window. pale skin, amethyst eyes and dark circle under them. To say Arian was nervous would've been an understatement. He was anxious...no, more than that. He was frightened. The kind of fear that settles deep in the stomach and twists until it hurts. He hadn't been able to eat the night before nor this morning.
Why him?
Cassian was still at the estate. Rowan and Alistair were away, yes ....one stationed near the border while the other on other kingdom but Cassian was right there, within reach. Yet the Duchess, ever the gentle mother to her own children, had chosen to let Cassian grieve in peace.
a single lock of silver hair falling over his brow. He pushed it back, but it slipped forward again. Arian choose to let it be then took a deep breath.
When the carriage turned onto the main road leading to the Imperial Palace, the horizon grew lighter. Through the mist, the tall spires of Caelvaris palace rose like white spears piercing the clouds. The palace walls shimmered faintly in the rain, guarded by soldiers in crimson and black.
Arian took a deep breath again to calm himself.all I have to do is to deliver this and hopefully his Majesty will be busy and a servant will take it from me so I won't even have to do it in person.
The carriage came to a stop. A knock sounded on the door. When Arian stepped out, a servant in white gloves bowed low.
"His Majesty is currently in a meeting, my lord," the servant said. Arian let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding but before he could hand the box the servant continued" the Emperor wil finish his meeting soon so Why don't you wait in the Velantha garden?"
He hesitated. "The… Garden of Empress?"
"Yes, my lord."
Arien really wanted leave but he reluctantly followed the servant through winding paths until the garden opened before him like a dream.
Arian eye's widened at the sight before him, the garden was full of Serenelle roses.
The Serenelle Rose wasn't easy to find in Solmele continent. Its petals were a soft gold white, faintly translucent like thin polished crystal. When the drizzle touched them, drops rolled down their smooth surface and scattered the dim light into tiny, shifting colors.
Serenelle Rose only grew in soil rich with mana, and even then, only under careful tending. It was said that Serenelle Rose needs a lot of magic to bloomed, and it was sensitive to the heat, cold even to the temperature of the water.
Just by hearing this anyone could understand how difficult is to maintain and cultivate this kind of rose.
But once it blooms it will never withers, that is if it was maintained carefully and correctly, that why it was called eternal love.
The Serenelle Rose takes its name from an old ancient word "seren", meaning to protect, and "elle", a poetic suffix once used to describe something beloved.
Its petals, clear as crystal, symbolize a love so pure it must be shielded to survive. The Serenelle doesn't endure by itself it endures through care. Left untended, its petals fade to mist within days but when nurtured, they can live forever.
Among people of this continent, it came to represent not just eternal love, but guarded love the kind that remains strong only when one's put in effort to keep it alive.
And Velantha garden was full of them.
Rows of Serenelle Roses lined the paths, their glass like petals glistening under the gray sky. Between them, fountains and the sound of falling water mixed with the soft patter of rain on stone.
Even in the dull morning light, the garden looked alive the mist curling above the roses, the gentle shimmer of each rose, the calm rhythm of rain sliding from leaf to leaf.
So this was her garden.
He remembered her letters the way she described how the sun shine on the the Serenelle roses, the peaceful mornings she spent here with her son, and the quiet evenings beside her husband in this same garden. She had written a days that felt endless.
Arian's throat tightened, he really misses Seraphina.
The servant led Arian along the path. "You may wait here, my lord," the man said, stopping beside a stone pavilion near the center of the garden.
The structure stood on a raised platform, its floor patterned with pale tiles that gleamed wet under the rain. Slender pillars of white stone held up the roof open on all sides, letting the air through A round table rested in the middle, carved from the same marble as the palace steps, surrounded by several chairs.
Arian hesitated before sitting, he couldn't help but stare at The rows of Serenelle Roses.He brushed his damp sleeves, and rested his hands on his knees, trying to calm himself down Even through his nervousness, a small part of him felt… happy.
He was finally seeing what Seraphina had described in her letters the garden she had loved so much.
But happiness soon vanished when he remembered that in a few minutes he will be meeting the Emperor, hands rested awkwardly on his knees. He didn't know what to do with himself.
He gave a quiet, self conscious laugh.he was Seventeen years old, an adult man and he still didn't know how to talk to anyone, even if it was the Emperor.
Footsteps broke the silence.
A tall man in the deep navy livery of the palace came running, slightly out of breath, a sheen of sweat across his brow. His sharp eyes went straight to the servant.
"Who gave you the order to bring him to the Velantha garden?" he demanded.
The servant flinched. "I...I thought..."
The man looked around, spotted the garden behind them, intact and let out a small sigh of relief. "Thank the stars," he murmured, then turned to Arian. His tone softened. "His Majesty will see you now, my lord."
Arian nodded and get up.
He followed the man—now realizing he must be the Chamberlain—through a long corridor.
Two knights opened the doors to the Emperor's study. its walls lined with scrolls and shelves of documents. The Emperor sat behind a dark oak desk, pen moving steadily over parchment. Arian remembering the nobles etiquette bowed.
He didn't look up as Arian bowed.
Arian hesitated. Should he bow again? Should he speak? His heart thudded too loudly to think.
Finally, the Emperor set down his pen and looked up.
Golden eyes met amethyst one's, his gaze were deep and unreadable.
"You're the Duke's youngest," the Emperor said quietly. His voice was smooth and steady, carrying an effortless calm.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Arian replied softly. "I was sent to return these."
He stepped forward, placing the wooden box on the desk with both hands.
The Emperor regarded it for a long moment, then gestured to the Chamberlain. "Open it."
The lid creaked as it lifted. Inside, the jewels gleamed faintly under the light a hairpin, necklace, a string of pearls, two books, and the Empress's signet.
The Emperor's hand brushed the items with a gentleness.
"She used to wear this one a lot" the Emperor murmured, lifting the hairpin. His thumb traced the sapphire at its center.
Arian said nothing. He hadn't expected the Emperor to sound… human.
The Emperor set the pin down and reached for one of the books a dark blue leather volume."this was meant for you." he said.
Arian blinked. "For… me?"
The Emperor nodded once. "A gift, for your birthday, she said..."
He handed it to the Chamberlain, who brought it carefully to Arian.
The Emperor leaned back slightly, exhaustion flickering across his face. "You may keep it."
Arian opened his mouth, unsure what to say, but the Emperor had already returned to his papers.
"That will be all."
That was his signal to leave.
Arian bowed quickly—too quickly—nearly knocking his head against the desk. "Th-thank you, Your Majesty."
He left before his voice could tremble again.
By the time he reached the carriage, his heart had barely steadied. He climbed inside, clutching the book to his chest.
The rain had stopped. As the carriage rolled forward, the palace slowly disappeared form his sight.
It wasn't until night fell, after dinner when everyone fell asleep, that he dared to look at the book again.
The book was bound in dark blue leather, Arian now noticed the silver border framed the cover, and at its center was the embossed figure of a lily. There was no title written on it, only that single symbol.
Arian as a big fan of books and historical figures knew the owner of symbol of the white lily.
Saint Ilaris.
who once lived centuries ago a healer who left the church to walk the continent, tending to the sick and protecting the lost. She carried no banner, no followers, only her faith and her will to help those who needed it most.
He remembered that before Seraphina get sick he talked briefly about wanting to know more about the saint.
Arian felt His eyes burn, but the tears didn't fall they just hovered there, his chest filled with both ache and warmth. He pressed his lips together.
Even now, even after her death, Seraphina still found a way to reach him. somehow, even beyond the grave, she still was.
Even though Seraphina was his sister, Arian was ashamed to admit that he had always seen her as something more. She had been the closest thing to a mother he ever knew. Her hugs, her soft voice, the way she always asked what on his mind..... those were the moments that made the cold halls of feel like home.
Whenever she visited, she brought him little gifts, books, sweets. And somehow, she always chose the ones he liked best. Seraphina never guessed what he liked, sheknew.
She was the eldest of them all, the Duke and Duchess's first child, already twenty-nine when she passed. Cassian, the Duchess youngest, was just three years older then Arian,but she was somewhat harsh with him comparing how she treated Arian.
Serafina had done what no one ever did for him. She had been the warmth, the care, the quiet love that held fragile heart together.
Arian allowed the tears to wach his face , poring his griefs out holding the book to his chest close to his heart , then lifted the book closer to his face, his hands trembling slightly. Then pressed his lips to the cover, a soft kiss. The gesture was childish, but it was all he can offer.
He had once imagined kissing her cheek like this, the way he used to dream he would when he was little. But that chance was gone now. There was no warmth anymore.
He sat there for a moment,And then, quietly, he opened the book.
from between the pages, something slipped free, a folded letter sealed with crimson wax bearing the Imperial crest.
Arian froze.
That was His sister's seal.
he lifted it and turned it to see the name written across the front, his breath caught.
There, in her delicate handwriting, was his name.
He stared at it for a long moment before finally reaching out. The wax cracked softly under his fingers.
He unfolded the letter. As his eyes moved across the familiar handwriting, his breath caught.
By the time he reached the final line, his lips parted in a silent gasp, disbelief written all over his face.