Cutlery clinked and conversation filled the air around Kael as he sat, quietly sipping his coffee.
Three days had passed since his meeting with Syleena.Whether it counted as a good first impression on either side was debatable, but Kael was satisfied with the outcome.
They had exchanged only a few brief words after that night, just enough before parting ways. She had left quite the impression. Not only had she forced him to reach out first, arranging their meeting on her terms, she had even tried to slip her will into his mind. That alone had been enough to make him reconsider the mission entirely.
Sure, the reward was almost worth dying for.
Almost.
"What to do… what to do…" he murmured under his breath.
'To think Syleena was in such a predicament…'Kael exhaled a slow breath, tapping his finger softly against the table.'I'm not sure how I'll get out of this.'
He saw most of the picture now, enough to know where he stood. Some details still hovered just out of reach, but the shape of it was clear. And none of it looked good.
'How long are they willing to wait?' His finger stilled for a heartbeat as his thoughts slipped deeper. 'A few months at best.'
The three Luminaires he'd arrived with were still waiting, expecting him to return with Syleena. They had stressed the urgency of the mission, but even so, Kael suspected they were willing to wait longer than appearances suggested. The reason was simple. He might be piecing together who Syleena was, but the Eireindaile knew her far better.
'They won't expect a mortal to fix this in a week or two…'His finger resumed its steady rhythm against the wood.'I'll have a few months at best.'
It wasn't that Kael wasn't willing to hand her over. The problem was that he wasn't sure he could. She still had cards left unplayed, he was certain of it.
Just like him.
That night, it might have seemed like he was the one in control. But he knew better.
If she'd been that easy to catch, she wouldn't have survived this long, after all.
Luminaires are deadly, sure, but most of the time, they were chained by reason, careful planning, reputation, control.
Push one into a corner, though, and all of that vanished. Pride, honor, restraint… none of it mattered when survival was on the line. When a Luminaire stopped caring about their own life, when they spent their last breath trying to take you down with them, that's when they became truly dangerous.
That's why Kael hesitated with Syleena.
Her family might want her dead now, but they hadn't always. They had raised her, trained her, given her everything. She hadn't grown up soft. She'd been shaped by personal tutors, seasoned fighters, and the kind of education only noble blood could buy.
Even during their last encounter, even when his hand had been at her throat, every move he made had been cold and measured. He pushed her only to the edge, testing how far she would go without tipping her over it.
A full-blown clash between them, as Luminaires, out in the open? That would have been a disaster. For both of them.
And now...
'I'm not sure I can back out of this mission either.'
His brow furrowed, the thought pressing heavier with each passing second.
He had never underestimated the noble families. But traveling with them, seeing them operate up close, brought a new clarity. Their reputation wasn't just for show, they were sharp, capable and dangerous.
And now, Kael knew too much. Far too much.
Enough to destroy the reputation of both Eireindaile and Valthorne families if he ever chose to speak. He was almost certain they'd chase him to the edge of the world just to silence him.
Clink.
He scoffed quietly as he set down his empty coffee cup.
Some predicament.
He couldn't afford to sit still and hope things worked out. He had to move, and soon.
The past few days hadn't been wasted. He'd walked the city, spoken to merchants, listened to whispers on street corners. Every scrap of rumor, every sliver of gossip, he gathered it all. Little by little, he pieced together the city's pulse, the players within it, and the politics beneath its surface.
His gaze remained on the cup for a moment before lifting.
A few tables ahead sat a man in his early thirties, calmly eating a pastry and sipping his coffee, just as he did at the end of every week. Simple vest, clean white shirt, short black hair. He looked like anyone else. Approachable, even. The kind of man strangers would trust enough to start a conversation with.
Aven.
The man Kael had been watching for days.
Firstborn son of the Valthorne family head.
Aven, the noble who had turned his back on his family's power. The man who had chosen a mortal woman over a life of influence. A man trying to leave that world behind.
For years, Aven had been trying to break away from noble life and everything that came with it. He had fallen for a mortal woman from the city, and that love had pulled him further from the world he was born into.
Normally, falling for a mortal wasn't a crime. But for the heir of the Valthorne family, the rules were different. He was expected to marry within noble circles, not just to preserve bloodlines, but to forge alliances. In his position, love wasn't a right. It was a luxury he was never meant to have.
The family gave him more freedom than most, but even that had limits. Noble families didn't hand out freedom without cost.
To make him reconsider, they forced him into missions, the kind most heirs would never touch. The kind he couldn't refuse.
That was why they sent him after Syleena.
Assassination wasn't a duty for heirs. It was punishment. A consequence for choosing love and freedom over blood and duty.
Kael sat, eyes on Aven, quietly sorting through everything he'd uncovered. Both from his own investigation… and from what Syleena had let slip.
—
Sigh...
"Yet another long day… Who would've thought being a fisherman could be this exhausting?"
Aven let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head at himself.
He was both a Luminaire and a noble, yet here he was, scraping by on fishing just to make a living. Ever since he'd tried to cut ties with his family, they'd cut him off in return. With no support, no allowance, he'd been forced to take up whatever work he could to keep food on the table.
"I suppose I'll find my peace beneath the soil," he muttered, half-mocking, before rising from his chair. He placed his flat cap on his head, giving it a light tap as he adjusted it, then turned and made his way out.
"What a beautiful sight. I never get tired of it."
As he walked, he took in the charm of Velthoria. The red-painted houses with their quiet warmth gave the city a comforting feel. Bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, the streets looked almost like a painting, gentle colors, vivid light, and a rare calm that settled over everything.
His steps were light and unhurried as he made his way through the city, offering the occasional polite wave to familiar faces passing by. Before long, a small corner shop came into view. Through its wide windows, shelves of flowers, books, flour, candy, and other daily essentials peeked out in a cozy display.
This was his usual stop, where he picked up small things for the day.
"Hmm…"
He spent a good while browsing the flowers before settling on a simple white rose. The lollipop, on the other hand, took only a moment to choose.
With both in hand, he continued on, his steps a little lighter, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Almost skipping, he moved toward a modest stone apartment building. Sculpted statues marked its corners, lending the place a grand but slightly foreboding look.
He stepped inside, climbed a few narrow staircases, and stopped in front of a door. Sliding the key into the lock, he opened it with a soft click, stepping in with the rose and lollipop tucked behind his back.
"Honey, I'm home," he called, letting his voice carry through the apartment.
He reached up to remove his flat cap, and froze.
A voice, calm and unfamiliar, drifted from within.
"Oh, hey! We've been waiting for you."
Aven's eyes locked on the source of the voice, a man standing casually in the middle of his apartment, as if he belonged there.
He didn't know him.
The stranger had long black hair that fell past his shoulders, framing sharp features. His deep green eyes were striking, calm, too calm, and a faint, almost pleasant smile touched his lips, completely at odds with the fact that he had just broken into someone else's home.
"Who are you… and what are you doing in my home?"Aven's voice dropped, hard and edged.
His Luminaire aura surged, thick with killing intent. It pressed down on the intruder like a heavy blade drawn halfway from its sheath.
"Ah. Me?" The stranger gave a light shrug. "Nothing much. I just came to pay a visit, that's all."
He spoke as if discussing the weather, then took a step forward.
"Don't."
The word cut sharp as a blade.
The stranger halted, then sighed, as if genuinely disappointed by Aven's cold reception.
"As I said… we've been waiting for you."
His voice remained calm, but there was a noticeable weight behind the word "we."
Then, with unsettling ease, the stranger reached around the corner, and pulled a young child into view.A boy, no older than seven, held close with one hand resting loosely around his neck.
Aven's eyes shot wide, his face draining of color until it was almost as pale as paper.
"What... what do you want?"
His voice trembled, the composed front from moments earlier shattering in an instant.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. I'm just here to deliver a message. Isn't that right, little Evan?"
The stranger gave a lazy wave with his free hand, a gesture so casual it felt mocking. He smiled down at the boy as he spoke.
But there was nothing warm about it. The soft voice, the easy smile, it only twisted the dread coiling in Aven's chest tighter.
"Listen… I'll give you anything, alright? Just… let Evan go to his room. We'll talk. Just us. Like adults."
The stranger's smile vanished. His expression hardened, his voice dropping lower.
"We're long past talking, Aven."
Aven's body tensed, his stance shifting ever so slightly, a small, almost imperceptible movement.
But one that spoke of a man preparing to kill.
But before he could move, the stranger lifted his hand and gave a slow, deliberate wag of his finger.
At the same time, his grip around the boy's neck tightened, just slightly.
Evan let out a faint, sharp squeak. Barely a sound, yet it sliced through the room like a blade.
Aven froze. Every muscle locked in place. His breath caught in his throat as his worry deepened, and with it, a flicker of irritation surfaced in his eyes.
"Tell me what you want. Now."
The stranger raised a brow, mildly amused by Aven's forced bravado. Then, in a voice as calm as ever, he spoke a single name.
"Syleena."
Aven's expression darkened at once. Darker than it had ever been.
Of course it was her. The girl he had been sent to kill just months before.
He never forgot a target. Especially not the ones who slipped through his grasp. And Syleena… she was the only one.
He hadn't even gotten close. She had seen through him from the beginning, never letting him near. She read him like an open book. That meant she knew his face. That meant she was a threat. And anyone who became a threat to his family, he made sure to remember.
Forget her? He couldn't. Even if he wanted to.
His eyes narrowed, cold and sharp.
"Are you here on behalf of the Eireindaile family?"
"Indeed, I am."
"You think you can just walk freely after attempting to take the life of the rightful heir to the Eireindaile family? Just how arrogant has the Valthorne family become?"
The stranger's words dripped with venom. There was no anger, only the steady, cutting chill of contempt.
"Listen… I don't know if you've been informed, but I'm not with the Valthorne family anymore. I gave that up a long time ago. If you want trouble, go after them. Leave me out of this. Please."
All the bravado he had shown earlier was gone. Now, he was just pleading.
The stranger tilted his head, studying him with something between pity and disgust.
"How pathetic. So this… is what remains of the Valthorne's bloodline."
He gave a slow, measured shake of his head before locking eyes with Aven.
"Aven. Killing you would be far too kind. Mercy is wasted on your kind. So in the name of the Eireindaile family…"
His hand shifted, tightening around Evan's throat. The boy's eyes flared wide, tiny hands clawing at the stranger's wrist in a silent, frantic plea.
"…I'll punish you instead."
A sharp twist.
A soft, brittle crack.
The boy's body gave a violent jerk, then fell still. His arms, moments ago reaching out in desperation, slipped limp to his sides. And with a lifeless thud, his body crumpled to the floor.
"NO!"
Aven lunged forward without thinking, driven by instinct and raw panic.
His mind was a storm of chaos. Nothing made sense anymore.Nothing except Evan.
He didn't notice the stranger was gone.He didn't hear the door slam shut behind him.
He dropped to his knees, scooping Evan's small, limp body into his arms.
"No… no, no, no…"
His voice broke into a whisper, trembling and hoarse.He couldn't think.He couldn't breathe.All he could do was hold him.Clutch him like the world would tear him away if he let go.
He held him for what felt like an eternity.Time blurred into nothing.Tears fell in slow, steady streams.
When he finally pulled in a breath, it came ragged and shallow.With trembling hands, he wiped his face and forced his eyes back to Evan.
Then a new horror struck him like a knife to the chest.
"Elsa!"
His voice cracked as he shouted, dread surging back, cold and merciless.
He staggered to his feet and bolted into the living room, and halted abruptly.
There, sprawled across the floor, lay a body in a widening pool of crimson.A single, clean wound slashed across her neck.
"No… no, no, no…"
He dropped beside her, his knees hitting the floor with a hollow thud.His arms wrapped around her lifeless body, pulling her close as if that alone could bring her back.
The words spilled out, cracked and broken, drowned beneath the weight of something far heavier than grief.
He held her close.Closer.
The world around him faded until there was nothing left.
Nothing but silence,and the bitter taste of loss.
Beside them, the white rose he had brought home lay toppled on the floor.Its petals soaked through with blood, its beauty smothered beneath a deep, unforgiving crimson.
Aven said nothing more.
He just held on.
And the night swallowed him whole.