Northern City of Leal
Leal was just like Evelyn had described in her letters, every word carrying the colors of the city, and just as Dylan had narrated those letters aloud to Lena, softening them with his warm tone. All of that came alive in Lena's mind now as she walked through the streets of Leal, her hand locked in Evelyn's. The city opened itself before her, all dressed in winter's embrace. White rooftops, faint mist curling at the corners of alleys, the sweet fragrance of roasted chestnuts carried on the air, and lanterns glowing like scattered stars even before the sun had fully set.
She was all covered up in her woolen scarf and coat, but warmth wasn't missing—her heart was brimming with it.
Before stepping out into this winter wonderland, they had prepared lunch for Dylan. Lena had insisted, chopping vegetables with a rhythm that made Evelyn laugh.
"You'll see, he'll come home and be surprised. And if he arrives early, he will find the note I left."
Evelyn had neatly placed it on the counter, telling him where to meet them. Dylan, who had carried the weight of both tgew Kingdom and family with a quiet devotion, would always find them—no matter where they went.
Now, free from that care for the moment, the two sisters but besties roamed into the streets of Leal.
Lena felt happiness surge through her like a tide. Evelyn had brought her to a famous place in the city—a spot every girl dreamed of stepping into at least once. The shopping district. Known far and wide, it was filled with glowing signboards, delicate boutiques, cafés steaming with cinnamon and chocolate, and laughter of women and girls drifting from every corner.
Her little sister had skipped a day of classes from the National University of Capaldi just to be here. Evelyn knew what that meant. Lena had always been dutiful, careful with her studies, yet here she was, arm-in-arm with her Lovely Bestie. How could Evelyn ever allow her to return to Capaldi empty-handed?
The people of Leal had long held to a tradition: no one left empty-handed from their doors. Evelyn found herself smiling at the thought. Perhaps, unknowingly, she had already become one of them.
"Looks like Leal has turned me into its own people,"
Evelyn murmured softly, more to herself than anyone.
Lena, a step ahead, didn't catch it. But the words weren't lost to silence either. The air itself heard. The wind carried her confession like a secret, whispering gently, You are Leal's people. Leal's own.
And then, like any faithful messenger, the air hurried away—up the hills, across the forests, to the place where someone long absent from the world dwelled in shadows. The Prince of Leal.
The one whose name had not been spoken for years, the one whose warmth once reached countless souls but now lay hidden in solitude.
He lifted his head when the whisper came. His expression softened with something so rare that even the sacred beings of light, the Aeonians, marveled at it.
"She is Leal's people," the air repeated, almost with reverence.
"How is she, Aeonian?" the Prince asked, his voice quieter than the rustling leaves.
From the air's shifting form, light began to take shape. A vague outline appeared—a misty being with delicate features you could almost see through. An Aeonian. Her presence glowed faintly, a sacred race born of light, watchers of both sorrow and joy. She had come to deliver, but in her heart there was curiosity.
"I saw her face today," the Aeonian whispered, watching the Prince as though it was the first time she had seen him truly alive again.
"I saw your smile return. How long has it been since I last saw you smile like this?"
The Prince did not answer. His silence was both confession and denial.
"Won't you go and visit her?" she asked.
"No." His smile vanished, replaced with that guarded calm he wore like armor. His eyes dimmed, and for a moment, he looked far older than he truly was.
Aeonian sighed, her form flickering. "She is just as you always told me. Everything suits her. In sadness, she is mesmerizing. She is like a lost flower who has forgotten how to bloom. But today…"
her voice softened,
"today she wasn't sad. There was happiness in her face, and beside her stood a girl with a magical air."
The Prince's eyes sharpened at that. He straightened, almost startled.
"That must be Lena. Which means Dylan is here too."
His gaze wandered toward the city, and through the faint haze of dusk, he could almost glimpse the glittering district where his beloved walked.
"How long will your dormancy last?"
he asked quietly.
"Two and a half years more,"
the Aeonian replied, her glow fading as she returned to the shape of mere wind.
"Then be free of worldly things, Aeonian," the Prince murmured, closing his eyes. "Especially love. It leaves you with nothing and yet burns inside you like eternal fire. It is not made for us—the beings of light. It does not suit us."
He covered his face with his hand.
The Aeonian's last words before dissolving into the breeze lingered: You should go and see her.
Silence returned. The mountains grew darker as evening spread its veil. The Prince was alone once again. He uncovered his face, and pain lay bare in his features. His eyes, once radiant, now carried a depth of sorrow that grew heavier with every passing second.
"You think I haven't gone to see her since Evelyn first landed in Leal?"
His voice trembled, but no one was there to hear.
"It is true I stayed away for long… but when she first came running through the streets of this city, when you carried her plea, Aeonian…"
He paused, a sharp ache striking through his chest.
"I went to her then. I let her feel my warmth, my scent, the faintest glimpse of me. I saw her to my fill. And when she moved into her apartment, I visited twice while she slept. I let her glimpse me… Why?"
His hand tightened against his heart.
"Why did I allow it? Why did I let her feel my warmth in this city? Only to keep her near, only to keep her safe. Somewhere I could protect her."
His breathing grew shallow.
"But to see her once… it wasn't enough."
His body bent forward, as though his heart itself rebelled inside his chest. His voice broke, almost a whisper:
"You knew it too, Aeonian. I cannot let that tragedy happen again. I won't allow it. I can't ..." His words faltered, pain choking him.
"But my heart…"
His hand pressed harder against his chest, trembling.
"What should I do about it? It makes me restless. It is consuming me."
His face fell into the shadows, tears pricking the corner of his eyes though he would never admit it.
"Eva…"
He breathed her name as though it was his last salvation.
"Eva… you will be the death of me one day. I am sure of it."
And with that, the night closed around him.