Chapter Thirteen: The Unknown
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I entered the private room with Iswar after making sure it was free of eavesdropping devices or identity scanners. I sighed and said to him as I removed the robe:
"You can take off the robe now."
He lay down on the couch, placing a book over his face, and muttered:
"Why are we here?"
I answered as I leaned on the opposite couch:
"I wanted something exciting for the upcoming party."
He lifted the edge of the book slightly from his face and said:
"And what is it?"
I didn't answer. I just shook my head.
He laughed:
"From the beginning, you should've said you wanted to ruin the auction."
I replied sarcastically:
"Do you see me as a devil?"
He said as he placed the book back over his face:
"Do whatever you want."
The auction began. The employee, who looked like a clown, presented sea pearls. I asked Ayant to bid triple, and we won immediately.
Then the elf children were presented. Ten, each for five gold coins.
They are homeless, sold "under supervision,"
Even though slavery is "forbidden."
Iswar whispered as he adjusted his seat:
"Slavery by law."
I added mockingly:
"How ironic."
I ordered him to pay four times the amount.
A white room bid five times.
But Iswar… used a "Star."
The hall was stunned. No one had ever used such a currency.
And the bidding ended.
We left with the ten elves to a café. Ayant entered first and ordered his coffee with coded words that made the waiter hand him a mask and a key.
I did the same, and we took a secret staircase to the "Underworld," while the elves were taken to a waiting hall.
In a room decorated with red crystal, we sat quietly. Iswar said:
"Feels good to be in your proper place."
Then the elves entered, hesitant, wearing dark robes.
One of them, blond and not older than eighteen, spoke with angry defiance:
"Who are you? And what are we doing here?"
I pointed at him and said with a smile:
"I bought you… with a Star. I decide when you speak."
The blond elf stood stunned by the radiance of the prince before him, and the idea of a "prince" crossed his mind as if it were impossible. But Iswar broke the silence, saying:
"I am the second prince, Iswar Haroth Eland. And your boss."
The boy mumbled with his head down:
"How can a prince be involved in such matters?"
I intervened, trying to maintain authority:
"As long as everyone obeys, we'll get along. I like the silent ones who do their job without questions."
It felt like I was repeating Ayant's words like a machine, but it was the safest approach.
"You will undergo training with Lilian, except for combat—that has a leader from the Shadows. Then, you will start work at the palace."
I relaxed into the chair until I felt a child tug at the edge of my robe. His eyes pierced me as if searching my depths. He spoke with strange calm:
"Why are you not okay?"
I almost cried… but held back. I patted his head and said:
"I'm fine… and you?"
He answered with warm innocence:
"I'm fine as long as you're getting better."
I rarely say "sorry," but this time it came out as if automatic. It was a silent moment, but the others understood.
They saw my sorrow and said nothing.
I left the room afterward, and the attendants took them for a tour. As for me, I met Ayant in the corridor without exchanging glances… We are now "Shira," and no one knows the other.
/// Inside the base ///
In the heart of the "Underworld," Ayant's room was still.
He lay silently on the bed, his hair tousled, his eyes half-closed as if the night had been poured into him.
He didn't turn when he heard footsteps. Only Rakael had the freedom to enter without permission. But the surprise was that Yardmil entered too, hesitantly behind him.
Rakael sat beside him, gently placed his palm over his eyes, and whispered:
"How are you, sir?"
Ayant didn't reply. He remained still as if the question itself needed time to digest.
Yardmil tried to approach, but Rakael stopped him with a gentle gesture.
After a long moment, Ayant turned on the bed and hugged his small body with his arms:
"I'm tired."
Rakael sighed and began softly running his fingers through his hair:
"Can I help you solve your problem?"
Ayant sat up, clasping his hands, and whispered in a weary tone:
"Listen carefully…
Since birth, I've been a burden. Like a strange shadow among the light.
I forced myself to joke, to act, so they'd believe I'm fine.
Only my father… discovered that everything I did was a shell."
He fell silent, as if the air had turned heavy. Rakael said in a low voice:
"It's okay… a lineage like yours shouldn't have its secrets revealed."
Ayant shook his head and continued:
"When I met the prince… I felt normal. For the first time, I didn't need masks.
I haven't returned home in seven years… I've never seen my little sister, even though she's turned six."
Yardmil interrupted, awkwardly, avoiding Ayant's gaze:
"The Marquis is coming to the capital… maybe your sister wants to see you."
The boy's conflicted heart seemed to soften. He finally said in a low voice:
"I don't know how to act with her."
He buried his head between his knees, shame coloring his cheeks, neck, and ears.
Rakael placed a hand behind his head, gently pulled him to his shoulder, and whispered:
"Act like usual…
It's okay to lie… maybe it becomes the truth one day."
--- In an Unknown World ---
It was terror in every sense of the word,
Something more dangerous than you imagine,
Something lurking where your eyes cannot reach.
In that darkness,
In the depth of the void, a shiver was born from a simple sigh—cold and massive, from something unseen,
As if something stirred in the wound of the world,
As if the world itself was afraid of carrying that shadow,
And the fog tore—not by its own will, but by the will of the terrifying being whose breath played with the air and its mist.
And at last, a shadow appeared—one that does not tread the ground and knows no mercy,
It does not argue, nor debate.
Everything trembled when it spoke,
As if it were alive, with free will, wanting to flee from itself:
"Puppets do not need feelings."
It came colder than ice, harsher than stone,
As if carving an indisputable law, a truth that cannot be denied.
--- Somewhere else ---
And in an abandoned corner stood shadows,
Raising their hands high in salute, like a fanatic cult,
Chanting ominous words, bearing an unknown future,
And so, innocent souls fell like autumn leaves.
They chanted… and chanted… and chanted again.
They never tired of repeating that word:
"War… war… war…"
A raven flew above, forewarning bad luck,
Carried by the wind with a tragic song in the ugliest of ways.
A red dew fell, of unknown nature,
Only the strength of their screams was the sole sign,
The only symbol of life in that forsaken place—
A place no foot had ever dared to tread.
And it was just the beginning.
Everything begins here… and ends in a place even greater.