Ethios stepped out of the palace gates alongside his mother.
The only sound he could hear was the creak of the hinges as the heavy doors closed behind him, followed by the gentle brush of air against his back.
By now, Ethios had grown somewhat accustomed to the outside world—especially after his journey with Alexa by the lake, and his second one from their fallen capital to the capital of the Aetherio Clan.
Still, curiosity pulsed within him. There was so much left to see, to understand, to feel. He thought that perhaps this journey would satisfy a part of that longing.
Alexa descended the hill holding her son's hand. The royal palace of Aetherio loomed high above them, its peak swallowed by clouds. She felt no regret in her heart—only quiet relief.
Now, Ethios would finally get the chance to live a somewhat normal life. And for her, it meant freedom—from the burdens, sacrifices, and relentless expectations the throne demanded.
For the first time in years, Alexa felt free.
A few servants were ascending the path to the palace, yet none of them recognized her or Ethios. The veils and hoods they wore served their purpose well.
After hundreds of descending steps, they finally reached the base of the hill. They were now beyond the royal boundary—officially outside the palace grounds. Only a short walk remained before they reached the city.
The area surrounding the base was a circular oasis of lush greenery. Four stone-paved roads branched from it, each leading to a different direction toward the capital.
On either side of those roads grew tall trees with crimson-red leaves, shimmering like shards of colored glass beneath the sunlight.
They resembled cherry blossoms in form, yet their glow carried a deeper, warmer hue.
Their beauty lent the path to the capital a dreamlike charm.
Ethios and Alexa walked slowly along the smooth road, watching the red leaves dance gently with the wind.
The sight brought Alexa a sense of serenity—and filled Ethios with quiet joy.
After a while, his small voice broke the silence.
"Mother, what are these trees called?"
Alexa looked down at him with a tender smile.
"They're called Emerald Trees. Our people gave them that name for their bright crimson glow."
They walked for several more moments in silence.
But the brightness in Ethios's face slowly dimmed, and his grip on her hand tightened.
Alexa noticed the change.
"What is it, Ethios?"
He hesitated before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Mother… where are we going?"
Alexa placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
"We're going to a beautiful island in the middle of the sea. There, we'll find a small wooden cottage—and we'll live there for a while."
Then she leaned closer, her voice soft as a secret.
"There are many Emerald Trees on that island, too."
A faint smile appeared on his face. The idea of their exile no longer felt heavy—it felt peaceful, almost like a long-awaited rest.
By the time their conversation ended, they had reached the outskirts of the city.
The capital of the Aetherio Clan was one of the most beautiful cities in the known world. Tall buildings and golden-hued structures stretched upward, many reaching five stories high.
At street level, lively shops and crowded marketplaces filled every corner—stalls for games, restaurants, and open spaces where people gathered to eat and talk.
The city of Aetherio was alive—bright, restless, and full of energy.
Ethios felt a bit uneasy. He had never been in a place so crowded, so loud.
But as the saying goes—there's a first time for everything.
His eyes wandered, trying to capture every detail of this new world.
Alexa noticed his curiosity and smiled.
"Ethios, what do you say we try it?"
He tilted his head.
"Try what?"
"Everything," she said with a shrug. "Shopping, games, food—everything this city has to offer."
She knew this would be the last time in years that Ethios would walk through a city freely. She wanted him to remember this day—not as a farewell, but as a gift.
Ethios couldn't hide his excitement any longer.
"Alright… let's try."
They entered one of the crowded marketplaces, overflowing with laughter, chatter, and color.
Soon, something caught Ethios's attention—a game stall.
Players used small bows to shoot at circular targets. The closer they hit the center, the more points they earned, and the bigger the prize.
He tugged gently at his mother's sleeve.
"Mother, let's try that one."
Alexa followed him to the stall.
The shopkeeper looked up—a tall woman, face hidden beneath her hood. He couldn't recognize her, of course.
Alexa told him she wanted her son to play.
The man grinned.
"Of course, my lady. He'll have three tries to score as many points as he can."
He handed Ethios a small wooden bow, fit for a child's hands. A few people gathered nearby, curious to watch.
Ethios stood before the target, drew the string back… and released.
The arrow dropped only a few inches away from the bow. A complete miss.
Laughter erupted around him—playful, but loud.
It stung more than he expected. Tears welled in his eyes, but then he heard his mother's calm voice beside him.
"Matthew,"
she said softly,
"failure isn't shameful. Surrendering to it is."
For a second, Ethios froze. Matthew? Why had she called him that?
But he decided not to ask—not now. He focused on her words instead.
He had to do better.
He replayed the first shot in his mind, identifying his mistakes—he hadn't pulled the string back far enough, and his grip on the arrow was weak.
He adjusted, inhaled deeply, and aimed again.
The second arrow flew—landing just shy of the bullseye. Much better.
The laughter faded.
And then came the third shot.
He drew the string, his eyes sharp, his breath steady… and released.
The arrow struck the center perfectly.
The crowd erupted in applause.
"That was great!"
"You should've done that from the start!"
"Nice shot, kid!"
Ethios felt a wave of pride surge through him.
He looked toward Alexa. Though her face was hidden by her veil, he could still see the smile on her lips.
The shopkeeper handed him a stuffed doll as a prize.
It was, to his surprise, a doll shaped like his mother.
Any other child might have jumped in joy.
But for Ethios, it was simply a doll—a reflection of the person he loved most.
Later that day, the two of them sat at a small table nearby, each with a bowl of steaming soup and some pieces of tender sea-creature meat.
The aroma filled the air, rising in lazy wisps.
Ethios took a sip, pausing for a moment. It tasted different from the palace food—simpler, earthier.
He realized then how wide the gap was between royal life and ordinary life.
And yet, both worlds were beautiful in their own ways—each with its own burdens to bear.
Before finishing his meal, he asked quietly,
"Mother… why did you call me Matthew back there?"
Alexa lowered her spoon.
"Some people want to hurt you. From now on, I'll call you Matthew—even when we're alone. Walls have ears, my dear."
She was cautious. The capital was filled with spies and enemies—some from the Allied Kingdoms, some from within their own people. She needed to hide his identity completely.
Ethios didn't mind. Even if she called him that in private, it didn't bother him.
But Alexa hadn't meant to change his name forever—only to remind him of the danger that surrounded them.
They finished their soup in silence, lost in thought.
Afterward, they continued exploring the city—buying clothes, playing games, living a few hours of borrowed peace.
When night fell, they rented a small inn room.
Ethios lay down, exhaustion claiming him quickly.
Alexa lay beside him, closing her eyes.
Neither of them cared about the uncertainty of tomorrow.
As long as they had each other, that was reason enough to rest—and to keep going.