Agneyastra awoke to the first day of summer break, the warmth of the sun seeping through her curtains and filling her room with a soft golden glow. Hastily, she dressed herself in a simple tunic and trousers, eager to begin the day. With a sense of purpose, she made her way towards Marudeva''s chamber, her steps light but filled with determination.
Standing before the closed door, Agneyastra paused and listened intently, straining her ears for any sound that might give her a hint of what lay beyond. She could hear nothing but silence. Her hand reached out instinctively for the doorknob.
Her contemplation was interrupted by the sound of Ramil''s voice echoing down the hallway. Startled, Agneyastra turned her head towards the source of the sound. Ramil''s figure emerged from afar, his steps purposeful as he closed the distance between them. He stopped, his concerned gaze meeting hers.
“Agney, what are you doing?” Ramil''s voice was filled with curiosity.
Agneyastra turned to face him, her expression resolute. “It has been weeks since he left his room,” she replied softly.
Ramil stepped closer, his eyes filled with a mixture of protectiveness and defensiveness. “I can take care of my father,” he asserted, his voice firm.
Agneyastra walked towards the stairs, her body moving with a graceful determination. “He should be insulated all the time. He needs fresh air,” she declared.
But before she could take another step, Ramil''s voice rose in a sudden outburst, filled with frustration and urgency. “I can handle it, now just keep Sinai busy today!” his words reverberated through the hallway, carrying a hint of desperation.
Agneyastra made her way towards Sinai''s bedroom door. With a quick twist of the knob, the door swung open, revealing Sinai standing there, ready to start the day''s adventure. Agneyastra smiled brightly and said, “Let''s go to the marketplace. We can have a delicious breakfast there.”
Sinai, ever the reliable companion, nodded in agreement and joined Agneyastra on their journey. They strolled down the hallway, the conversation filled with excitement and anticipation for what awaited them at the bustling marketplace.
Meanwhile, just a few doors down, Ramil approached Emathion''s bedroom door with an impatient urgency. He pounded on the door, the sound echoing through the stillness of the morning. “Emathion, get up now!” Ramil''s voice pierced through the silence, demanding his brother''s attention.
As Agneyastra and Sinai neared Emathion''s room, the door creaked open, revealing a disheveled and groggy Emathion. Before he could fully comprehend the situation, Ramil forcefully jerked him out of his room, gripping his wrist with an iron grip. Emathion winced and protested, “Let go of me, Ramil!”
Ramil, momentarily releasing his grip, shoved Emathion with a surge of anger. Agneyastra, witnessing this act of aggression, swiftly stepped in between Ramil and Emathion, her eyes flashing with determination. “You shouldn''t treat him like that,” she uttered firmly, her voice resonating with a mix of concern and disapproval.
Ramil, a defiant aura surrounding him, sneered at Agneyastra. “Don''t tell me how to treat my brother,” he retorted.
In a display of empathy, Agneyastra turned to Emathion and extended a comforting hand. “Come with me and Sinai to the market,” she invited.
With a glimpse of hope and gratitude in his eyes, Emathion accepted Agneyastra''s invitation. Alongside Sinai, they walked away from Ramil, their footsteps resonating with unity and newfound strength. As Ramil watched them depart, a mixture of frustration and pride took hold of him, compelling him to blurt out, “Fine, I will do everything myself.”
Agneyastra rushed back upstairs to confront Ramil. Standing before him, her eyes filled with determination, she spoke firmly, “You miss the point again. When you can be nicer, then we will help you. You need to control your anger, find a way to let it go.”
Ramil''s face contorted with frustration, but he pleaded, “I have a lot of things to do around here. Please help me.”
Agneyastra faced him, her voice laced with compassion. She gently tugged on his hand, her gaze shifting to Sinai and Emathion who stood by her side. “That is why I am going grocery shopping for the house,” she said. “Come with us to the marketplace, we can get breakfast there and gather other items for the house. It will give you a chance to clear your mind and find some peace.”
Ramil hesitated for a moment, his eyes wavering between Agneyastra and the closed door of his father''s bedroom. It was then, from behind that door, that Marudeva''s voice called out, breaking the tense silence. “Ramil, come here for a moment.”
Ramil handed Agneyastra a coin bag, his eyes avoiding her gaze. “Make sure you get enough food for a couple of days,” he said softly, before turning towards his father''s beckoning call.
As Agneyastra walked down the stairs with Sinai and Emathion in tow, she couldn''t help but steal a glance back at Ramil. Agneyastra, Sinai, and Emathion ventured outside, their eager spirits embarking on an adventure that awaited them.
As they stepped onto the cobblestone path, Agneyastra caught sight of a passing carriage and hastily waved it down. With a creaking sound, the carriage came to a halt, welcoming the trio into its cozy interior.
The carriage journeyed through the enchanting streets, transporting them to the heart of the marketplace. Agneyastra, her mind heavy with worry, turned to Emathion beside her. “Do you think Ramil will be okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Emathion, his eyes reflecting uncertainty, replied, “I don''t know. What was it like for you when you lost your mother?”
Agneyastra''s gaze fell to her hands, her fingers intertwined. “I cannot say,” she whispered softly. “I never had the chance to meet her or even my biological father. But I hope that Ramil''s current disposition is only temporary.”
Sinai, gazing pensively out of the carriage window, interrupted their conversation with a solemn tone. “Ramil is carrying a heavy burden,” he offered, his voice weighted with understanding. “We must give him some grace. After all, you two were not there when mother was attacked.”
Agneyastra''s eyes filled with sadness as she looked at Sinai, her voice filled with remorse. “I am sorry,” she murmured, her heart burdened by the weight of her past actions. “Let us focus on our task and head to the marketplace.”
***
The first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the gossamer curtains, casting a warm glow upon Ramil''s bedroom. As he stood before the grand mirror, clad in resplendent Ash Kingdom attire, his eyes carried a hint of melancholy. Beside him, Yeongi entered the room, her presence like a gentle breeze that offered solace. She paused, her eyes meeting Ramil''s in the reflection, and softly said, “You look very handsome.”
Ramil gazes at his reflection in the mirror, a longing sadness lingers in his eyes. “If only my mother were here,” he whispers, a wistful longing in his voice.
Yeongi, sensing Ramil''s inner turmoil, moved closer to him. Her voice carried a comforting tone as she spoke, “You look wonderful, Pyla would''ve been proud of you. Come, the guests will arrive early for the presenting party.”
Taking a deep breath, Ramil slowly followed Yeongi out of his room, his steps falling in time with his thoughts. As they descended the ornate staircase, Ramil''s eyes caught sight of Agneyastra walking alongside Sinai.
Agneyastra turned towards Ramil and asked, her voice filled with genuine concern, “Where are you going?”
Yeongi gently guided Ramil, urging him forward, her voice resolute as she addressed Agneyastra, “You are not allowed to know. He will be back tomorrow.”
As Ramil and Yeongi emerged from the confines of Ramil''s family home, a heavy silence hung in the air. No words were exchanged, as they approached the end of the dirt road, where a solitary tree stood, its branches reaching out like gnarled fingers towards the sky. With a touch from Yeongi''s hand, the tree began to emit a soft, ethereal glow, unveiling a hidden portal.
Stepping through the portal, their surroundings transformed. They found themselves standing in the heart of the Endless burning forest, its fiery hues creating a mesmerizing spectacle. Shadows danced among the flames, and a group of stoic Fire Kingdom Soldiers awaited their arrival, their armor glinting under the fiery glow.
Unyielding in their determination, Ramil and Yeongi pressed forward, their path leading them to the Ash Kingdom Castle. Waiting for them outside were Tyson and King Aiden from the Fire Kingdom. As Ramil and Yeongi halted before them, a warm smile graced King Aiden''s regal face.
“He is very handsome and looks strong too,” Aiden remarked, his voice exuding both admiration and approval. “He will be a wonderful heir for the Ash Kingdom.”
Ramil embraced Tyson tightly. “Uncle Tyson,” he spoke, his voice filled with genuine emotion, “it has been years since I last saw you.”
As Tyson and Ramil walked through the grand entrance of the black marble castle, the air seemed to shimmer with anticipation. The ballroom stretched out before them, bathed in soft candlelight, its walls adorned with intricate tapestries depicting mythical creatures and enchanted lands.
Guests filled the tables, their elegant attire reflecting the sparkling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Laughter and cheerful chatter floated through the air, creating a symphony of mirth. The vibrant atmosphere buzzed with excitement, as if every guest held the secret to a wondrous adventure.
Tyson turned to Ramil, his eyes filled with pride. “This is your first step into your future, my boy,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into a warm smile. “I am sorry your father couldn''t be here.”
Ramil''s voice carried a hint of melancholy as he replied, “He had breakfast with us this morning. It may not seem like much, but it''s progress.”
Tyson''s gaze shifted to his wife, Yeongi, who stood at the edge of the ballroom, her eyes fixed on the swirling sea of people. Sorrow etched itself onto his face as he spoke softly, “Your father has lost so much. It will take him time to come back, to find his place in this ever-changing world.”
Tyson led Ramil to the front of the grand ballroom, where four chairs were elegantly lined up overlooking the sea of guests. As Adien and Yeongi joined them, gracefully taking their seats, Ramil''s eyes wandered to a group of young ladies his age, their dresses shimmering like ethereal beings in the soft candlelight. With a gentle smile playing on his lips.
Positioning himself in front of the crowd, Tyson raised his hand and silence filled the room. “Welcome, esteemed guests,” he began, his voice strong and commanding. “I am Prince Tyson of the Fire Kingdom, standing here in the place of the Ash King Marudeva. Today, we gather to present to you the first-born son of King Marudeva and Queen Pyla, the future King of the Ash Kingdom, Prince Ramil Maccoy Aiden Ash.”
A diligent archivist approached Ramil and Tyson, carrying a stack of papers. The archivist turned to Ramil, his voice firm yet respectful. “Please sign the documents, Your Highness.”Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
As Ramil reached for the pen and skimmed through the papers, his eyes caught a glimpse of a betrothal agreement. He realized the words written on it. His brow furrowed, and he looked up at Tyson with a mix of surprise and disbelief. “These papers are incorrect,” Ramil declared, his voice filled with determination. “The Fire Kingdom does not have an heir.”
Tyson''s tone held a hint of impatience. “Just sign the papers, Ramil,” he urged, his voice tinged with a warning.
Feeling a surge of frustration and confusion, Ramil''s grip on the pen loosened, and it slipped from his fingers. With a heavy heart, he turned on his heel and walked away into the next room. Tyson followed closely behind, closing the door gently behind them. “What is going on with you?” Tyson asked, concern evident in his eyes.
Ramil paced back and forth, “My future lies with Agney,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “She is meant to become the Fire Kingdom''s successor.”
Tyson''s expression hardened, his voice laced with a warning. “Never speak of this again, especially to her. Now, sign the papers, Ramil, or I will find someone else for her.” With those words hanging heavy in the air, Ramil took a deep breath and composed himself. They returned to the ballroom, picking up the pen once more and signing all the papers.
***
The sun sets behind the lush, emerald canopy of the forest, casting a warm golden glow over Moriko''s cabin. Inside her bedroom, the soft glow of the starry sky seeps through the window, illuminating the room in a celestial ethereal light. The air is heavy with anticipation, as if nature itself senses Moriko''s restlessness.
Tossing and turning, Moriko can''t find solace in the embrace of sleep. Instead, a haunting cry echoes in her mind, pulling at her heartstrings and refusing to let her rest. With a sigh, she speaks silently, her voice resonating only within her own consciousness.
“Emathion,” Moriko whispers in her mind, her voice gentle and filled with concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”
In the depths of her thoughts, Emathion''s voice emerges, wavering with a touch of sorrow. “Today, I walked by my mother''s sewing room. The scent of her still lingers in the air, as vivid and vibrant as the memories she left behind.”
As if transported to Emathion''s world, Moriko can almost smell the scent herself. It is comforting and bittersweet all at once, each inhale evoking memories of a time long gone. Feeling a connection forming through the vast expanse of their thoughts, Moriko sits up in bed, her eyes shimmering with understanding.
“What kind of items did she make?” Moriko asks, her voice carrying a soothing lilt.
Emathion''s voice seems to echo, tinged with fondness and loss. “She had a gift for creation. It was in the intricate garments she lovingly crafted for me and my brothers. Every stitch, every detail, bore her essence. Last spring, she poured all her love and talent into crafting Agney''s entire wardrobe.”
Moriko reached out to light a solitary candle that sat on a small wooden table near her bed. The flickering flame danced and swayed, casting a soft, warm glow that illuminated the room.
Leaning against the headboard, Moriko looked across the room, her eyes filled with tenderness and sorrow. “Your mother sounded wonderful,” she said softly, her voice carrying a touch of longing.
Emathion, his voice tinged with sadness, replied from the depths of his own world, “She was... we miss her dearly. My father, he barely leaves his room anymore. It is Ramil, my brother, who has taken charge of the house in his absence.” Emathion paused, his voice faltering, before continuing, “But, in the pages of medical and healing books, I find relief. It is there that I can momentarily escape the weight of my grief.”
Interrupting him with curiosity, Moriko inquired, “And... is there anything else that helps you?”
The air seemed to hold its breath as Emathion''s voice hesitated, as though grappling for the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope, “It''s hard to explain... but every time your voice appears in my head, Moriko, my pain seems to fade away. It is replaced by a sense of joy and comfort, as if your presence has the power to heal.”
Moriko couldn''t help but chuckle softly, the sound imbued with a touch of self-deprecation. “Ah, yes,” she said, her voice trailing off wistfully, “always managing to say the wrong thing, perpetually becoming the fool in our conversations.”
Emathion''s voice, filled with sincerity and understanding, reassured her, “No, Moriko. In the past, perhaps I misunderstood your intentions, misinterpreted your words. But as we continue to converse, I find myself feeling lighter, happier. The more we share, the stronger this connection becomes, and the more I am able to let go of my pain.”
She sits perched on her bed, her cheeks turning from their usual green hue to a delicate shade of pink as she feels a warmth spread through her. A shy smile spreads across her face as she speaks into the air, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.
“Emathion, I''ve noticed that you seem more at ease when we talk,” she says, her words carrying a hint of curiosity.
Emathion''s voice, gentle and comforting, responds from the unseen depths of the unknown. “Yes, you are right. Not now, but one day, I would like to meet you in person,” he replies, his voice tinged with wistfulness. “Perhaps when the war calms down, we can.”
Moriko''s smile grows wider, her eyes shining with anticipation. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice filled with a gentle longing. “That would be nice.”
Emathion''s voice holds a hint of excitement as he continues, “You would love it here in Dweller city.”
Moriko''s joy is tempered with a touch of sadness as she speaks again, her voice revealing a hint of hesitation. “But Tyson and Yeongi, they don''t want me to venture far from the safety of the Green Forest right now. Perhaps, instead, you could come here. Yeongi could bring you.”
Emathion''s voice grows thoughtful, considering Moriko''s suggestion. “Yes, perhaps that might be a better option,” he muses. “I would be honored to visit your home.”
Emathion''s voice, filled with genuine interest, breaks the silence. “Tell me, what adventures did you embark on today?”
Moriko sat on her bed, her fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns carved into the wooden bedpost. “I just healed a few trees,” Moriko began, her voice soft as if speaking to the empty room. “Then I read some of my notebooks. But my days... they''re so boring. I''m not allowed to explore my own kingdom.”
“Why not?” his voice seemed to whisper.
Moriko sighed, her eyes closing briefly before opening again, filled with a mixture of frustration and longing. “The Brucies don''t trust the Stone soldiers. They remain deactivated, but still within the walls of the stone city,” she explained.
Emathion''s voice was filled with a quiet understanding. “I have read books about the Earth Kingdom castle,” he spoke gently. “They say it looks like a majestic mountain, rising proudly from the earth. The Brucies must realize, one day, that you will have to return to the castle to rule the Earth Kingdom once you are presented as its rightful ruler. Right?”
Moriko nodded, a hint of uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Yes,” she replied softly. “I believe so. Tyson makes sure I study all the rules and customs from the Kingdoms of Elements. It''s daunting, to think that unlike other kingdoms, I will be ruling alone.” Her voice faltered.
Emathion''s voice, filled with a steadfast belief, reached out to Moriko. “You are never alone, Moriko,” he reassured her. “Tyson and Yeongi will be there by your side, guiding you every step of the way. And you have me, your biggest supporter. I believe in you and know that you can do this. I must thank you.”
Moriko blinked, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes. “What for?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Emathion''s voice spoke with warmth and sincerity. “For always being there when I need to vent out, for sharing your dreams and fears with me. Your trust means more to me than you can ever know,” he replied.
***
As the warm midday sun cast its golden rays upon the Water Kingdom Palace, Evain, adorned in her exquisite Water Kingdom Princess dress, made her way down the grand hall. The delicate fabric of her gown swayed gracefully with each step, the vibrant shades of blue and shimmering pearls reflecting the shimmering light.
Pausing at a towering window, Evain''s gaze shifted towards the vast, glistening beach. There, a mighty army of soldiers emerged, marching with determination, their footsteps pounding in unison. “I should be going,” she whispered softly, her voice a mere echo in the silence.
A Water Kingdom Advisor emerged from a nearby room, his presence commanding yet respectful. Approaching her with measured strides, he spoke with a hint of urgency, “Your guests will be arriving soon from the Riverlands, my lady.”
Evain nodded, her thoughts momentarily diverted to the upcoming gathering. Together, they walked down the opulent hallway, the sound of their footsteps, each step taking them closer to the extravagant room filled with finely adorned tables. As they entered the grand hall, Evain''s eyes were greeted by the sight of long tables adorned with delicate porcelain teapots, dainty cups, and an assortment of delectable treats. The scent of freshly brewed tea and warm pastries enveloped the air, creating a comforting atmosphere within the otherwise empty room.
Taking a seat at one of the impeccably set tables, Evain could hardly contain her anticipation. She delicately picked up a small sandwich, the taste of tender bread and flavorful fillings bursting on her tongue. With a slight tilt of her head, she glanced towards the Water Kingdom Advisor, her curiosity piqued.
“Did you tell them the right time on the invitations?” she inquired, a hint of concern underlying her sweet voice. Her eyes met his, silently searching for reassurance amidst the flurry of preparations.
Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, creating vibrant patterns on the polished marble floors. The room was adorned with elegant tapestries, depicting scenes of underwater kingdoms and mythical creatures.
Resting her head on her arm, Evain whisked her fingers delicately along the porcelain rim of her teacup. The sound of her light touch resonated in the stillness of the room. A momentary pang of loneliness washed over Evain as her gaze swept across the vast room. The tea party, meticulously planned to welcome esteemed guests from distant lands, remained devoid of any visitors. The seats around the table, adorned with fine lace doilies and elegant china, stood empty, save for her solitary presence.
Just when Evain was about to surrender to her solitude and lift her head from the table, the grand entrance doors swung open. In walked a lady with fiery red hair cascading down her back, her skin shimmering with a silvery hue, reminiscent of the Red Shiner fish that dwelled deep in the realm''s glittering rivers.
Evain''s body jolted with excitement, her eyes widening in surprise. She swiftly sat upright, the anticipation of company electrifying the air. As the lady was escorted towards her, the weight of the solitude was lifted.
“I am Princess Evain,” she announced, her voice filled with both warmth and curiosity. “Welcome to this tea party, in which no one but you have shown up for.”
The lady bowed gracefully, her eyes filled with a quiet wisdom. “I am Princess Chandania, hailing from the distant West River Kingdom,” she replied, her voice carrying a melodic tone. Her gaze wandered around the empty room, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Am I late or early?”
Evain glided closer to Chandania, a smile blossoming on her lips. “You are right on time,” she assured her, gesturing towards an empty seat. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the royal advisor, leaving the two princesses to indulge in each other''s company.
Chandania gracefully settled into the proffered seat, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Evain, filled with a renewed sense of excitement, poured tea into a delicate cup for her newfound companion. As the fragrant liquid cascaded into the cup.
Evain, her soft features framed by cascading hair, delicately places a plate of delectable sweets before Chandania, breaking the silence that envelops the room. Inquisitively, she poses a simple yet poignant question, “Why did you come?” Her eyes sweep around the empty room, emphasizing their solitude. “No one else did,” she adds, a subtle hint of longing evident in her voice.
Chandania, her cheeks tinted with a gentle blush, averts her gaze shyly, unable to meet Evain''s eyes. With a hint of vulnerability, she confesses, “I admire you, Evain.” Her voice resonates with admiration and genuine sincerity.
A soft chuckle escapes Evain''s lips, a genuine display of amusement at Chandania''s proclamation. Her eyes sparkle with genuine appreciation, as she curiously asks, “Why?”
Chandania, in a voice barely above a whisper, responds, her words carrying a weight of understanding and acceptance, “I know that others may view your actions on the battlefield that day as foolish, but I believe they were incredibly brave.” In a tender gesture, her delicate fingertips tenderly brush against Evain''s hand. “These hands,” Chandania continues, her voice trembling ever so slightly, “have taken the lives of many Dwellers that day.”
Evain withdraws her hand gently from Chandania''s touch. Her voice carries a mix of caution and vulnerability as she imparts a heartfelt warning, “You shouldn''t touch me like that. My mother, determined to preserve our kingdom from rumors, extinguished the life of the last princess who dared to do so.”
Evain sits beside Chandania, their eyes locked. Chandania, unable to meet Evain''s gaze any longer, looks away and utters an apology. “I didn''t mean to tarnish you. I should go.”
But before Chandania can rise from her seat, Evain reaches out and gently takes her hand, a silent plea for her to stay. With a voice filled with both vulnerability and determination, Evain speaks. “I have been tarnished long before you arrived. But still, I worry for your safety.”
Chandania, refusing to be swayed, insists on continuing their conversation. It is then that Evain, unable to contain her desire any longer, leans closer to Chandania, tenderly kissing her neck. With a whispered invitation, she suggests, “Would you like to find somewhere more private, away from prying eyes?”
Yet, before Chandania can respond to this illicit suggestion, the moment is shattered by the arrival of Devereaux. In his characteristic tone laced with mischief, he addresses Evain. “Evain, my dear sister, how do you always manage to enchant such alluring individuals?”
Regret fills Evain''s eyes as she hurriedly distances herself from Chandania. “Devereaux, please understand that this tea party is intended for princesses, go away.”
Devereaux takes a step closer to Evain and Chandania. His words carry a twisted sense of entitlement. “Mother sent me here since no one else bothered to show up.”
Panic creeps into Evain''s voice as she implores Devereaux for discretion. “Please, don''t inform our mother about this. You know the consequences.”
A wicked smile curls on Devereaux''s lips, his attention now directed towards Chandania. He voices his demand, a cold edge in his tone. “Evain, you owe me a replacement for the lady I lost because of you. Chandania, agree to become my companion, or I will report everything to the Queen. You could meet the same fate as Acropora.”
Defeated and cornered, Chandania''s voice trembles as she accedes. “Fine,” she murmurs softly, surrendering to her circumstances. She takes a final glance towards Evain, their eyes conveying a mixture of sorrow and resignation. Hand in hand with Devereaux, she leaves the room.