After parting ways with Lisandra and Sylvia—after so very long—Amael soared through the vast expanse of the Realm of Eden, the domain of gods themselves.
He seldom visited this place. Not because he was unwelcome, but because the Realm of Eden was not a land one entered without purpose. And today, he carried purpose and he wasn't accompanied by his father.
He needed answers—answers that would shape not just his choices, but the very course of his existence.
The flight was long, the horizon endless, until at last, a structure broke through the divine white skyline: a castle.
Beautiful.
Immaculate.
White as new snow, its walls shimmered faintly as if made from light itself.
"It should be here," Amael muttered under his breath.
Though it had the face of an ordinary palace, he knew better. This was no palace—it was a prison. A prison crafted not for a criminal, but for one of the most powerful and irreplaceable figures in Eden.
Laima.
Or rather, Nevia—her true name.
