Meanwhile, in another part of the capital, in one of the cemeteries near the academy, a thick fog had crept across the ground like a white serpent slithering among broken stones and crooked crosses.
The tombstones were old; the names and dates had faded, as if time itself had swallowed them. Each grave, each name, told the story of a life in this world, each person once important, yet death was always closer than we feel.
Among the graves, stone statues of angels stood; wings broken, eyes blind, and a frozen smile on their lips, as if witnessing the eternal silence of the souls.
The philosophy behind placing angels atop tombstones was that the person had died young or by suicide. In this way, a guardian angel's statue was made above their grave. The angel bore a sorrowful, worried expression, as it had failed to properly protect that person.
At the far end of the cemetery, a ruined church with shattered glass and a pointed tower could be seen. Its rusty bell swayed occasionally with the wind but never rang.
Charles walked slowly through the cemetery, dressed in a black coat, his clothes, as always, neat and unwrinkled. In his hands, he carried a bouquet of blue lilies.
He came to a tombstone, paused slightly, and looked at it. A stone statue of an angel reading a book—perhaps a storybook, or maybe reciting poetry for the dead—showed traces of sorrow but also hope in its expression.
On the gravestone was written:
Name: Misha Moriarty
Born: 876/5/28
Died: 889/04/25
Charles gently placed the blue lilies on the grave and stepped back. The rain continued to fall, each drop like a dart—or perhaps a fleeting moment of peace… something Charles had longed for for so long: peace. Not revenge, but finally being able to sleep properly, without guilt.
And justice—justice was what he wanted, carried out by the law itself. Charles paused, then smiled and said:
"Misha… my daughter… if you were here now, you might hate me for what I've become… but just a little longer… just a little longer, and I'll be with you… then we can be together."
...
Flashback: 20 years ago – Tarolinia Kingdom, Henovil Village
In the heart of a vast, lush plain, where wildflowers danced in the morning breeze and a clear river meandered among willow and oak trees, lay the small village of Henovil. Simple houses with thatched roofs, dirt roads, and the chirping of sparrows created a peaceful, idyllic atmosphere.
In one of these houses, decorated with colorful geraniums and violets in the yard, lived a young couple. The woman, with golden hair and emerald green eyes, was pregnant, wearing a long white linen dress. Her rounded belly hinted that the time for her child's birth was near. She stood in the yard with delicate hands, hanging freshly washed clothes on the line; the sunlight made them glisten, and the scent of soap wafted in the air.
A gentle breeze brushed her hair aside. She paused for a moment, looked at the blue sky, and with a pleasant smile, called to her husband a few steps away, milking a brown cow in the barn:
"Darling! Breakfast will be ready in five minutes."
The man, wearing a simple rural shirt, with dark eyes and disheveled black hair, held a bucket of fresh milk. He looked up from the cow, smiled, and responded warmly:
"Alright, my love, I'm coming."
The woman carefully picked up the basket of clothes and entered the house. At the same moment, the man lifted the milk bucket and followed her into their warm, simple home. Inside, the smell of freshly baked bread, homemade jam, and dry wood filled the air. The man hung his straw hat on a wooden peg by the door, washed his hands, and sat on a wooden chair.
The woman, smiling, placed a cup of hot milk in front of him. She paused for a moment, then gently kissed his cheek. The man took her hand and, with warmth in his gaze, smiled. Their breakfast was simple but full of love: rustic bread, local cheese, homemade strawberry jam, and fresh steaming milk.
In the sweet silence, only the birds' songs and the kettle's soft gurgle were heard. The couple, in that irreplaceable moment, were immersed in pure tranquility, unaware of the fate waiting in the future…
Patrick, sitting on a chair, looked at his wife with deep affection. Ariana, with her delicate features and bright eyes, seemed to hold all the sunlight within her. He gently placed his hand on her rounded belly. With tenderness, they both caressed it.
With a voice full of joy, he said softly:
"I'm so happy that a new member will join our family, Ariana…"
Ariana smiled, her eyes sparkling as she took Patrick's hand and kissed it. Her face was bright and serene, like a calm sea.
"I'm the happiest person on earth… as long as I have you by my side, Patrick."
For a moment, they were lost in sweet silence. Only the sounds of birds and the breeze through the trees could be heard. Suddenly, a familiar voice broke the quiet, carrying a hint of nostalgia:
"Hello! Is anyone home? Guess who's here?"