The Rear Mountain — Late Afternoon
The mountain behind the academy fell back into a serene, desolate silence. The twilight sky hung low, painted in bleeding shades of crimson and violet. A gentle breeze swept through the clearing, rustling the grass that had been torn and battered from their intense training sessions.
Alisa and Zian had already headed back to the dormitories, leaving only Wiz and Reika behind. The two sat side by side on a large weathered boulder, quietly watching the sun dip below the horizon.
"Brother Wiz... do you really think I can pull this off at the festival?" Reika asked, his voice laced with uncharacteristic hesitation as he stared into the dying light.
"Where is this sudden doubt coming from, Reika?" Wiz slung a reassuring arm around the boy's shoulders, a warm smile gracing his features.
"Because... I'm just not sure if I'm truly capable."
"Have some faith in your own abilities. You can absolutely do this," Wiz said, squeezing his shoulder firmly.
Reika pulled his knees tightly against his chest, burying his face slightly. "Yeah, but lately... I've been having these strange dreams."
"Strange dreams?" Wiz's interest peaked, his smile shifting into one of curious intrigue.
"It's hard to explain," Reika murmured. "I find myself stranded in a vast, unknown space. It's completely empty, quiet, and hollow... devoid of any form of life whatsoever."
"And what happens next?" Wiz prompted gently.
"Someone who looks exactly like me approaches me. He looks me in the eye and says, 'I am you, and you are me.' Those words... they just keep echoing in my head, over and over."
Wiz's smile softened into a knowing, subtle grin. "Ah. That is your inner soul, Reika. It is trying to initiate a conversation with you." He paused, looking out at the horizon. "It is incredibly rare—almost unprecedented—for someone to be able to consciously speak with their own soul so early on."
"Is that so...?" Reika lowered his head, his gaze casting down toward the dirt.
"What matters right now is that you focus on tomorrow," Wiz encouraged, his tone growing firm and inspiring. "Ignite your spirit, and we will take that victory."
Reika nodded, the hesitation clearing from his eyes as a fierce, determined spark ignited within them. "Right. I'll make sure we take the championship!"
Nighttime — Everts Palace (The First Princess's Chambers)
"Come on, Dina! Let's get packed and ready for tomorrow!" Clara chirped, throwing her hands up in the air with a radiant smile as she looked at her maid.
"Right away, Your Highness," Dina replied with a dutiful nod, immediately complying with her mistress's enthusiasm.
"Make sure to pack three different gowns for me, okay?"
"Eh? Three?!" Dina gasped in absolute shock, her hands freezing mid-air.
"Of course!" Clara placed her hands on her hips, her chest swelling with playful pride.
"But what could you possibly need three gowns for, Princess?"
"Well, the first one is for the festival during the afternoon," Clara explained, ticking them off on her fingers with a sweet smile. "The second one has to be my most beautiful gown, reserved for watching the fireworks under the night sky. And the third one, naturally, is for the journey back home!"
Dina's eyes instantly lit up with a teasing glint. "Could it be that Her Highness wishes to watch the fireworks with Lord Leon Fedora?"
Clara's expression soured instantly. She averted her gaze, her lips curling into a deep, dissatisfied pout. "Not a chance. I absolutely despise him, especially his wretched attitude."
"Understood, Princess. I will get everything sorted," Dina giggled softly, walking over to the grand wardrobe to neatly pack the dresses into a travel bag.
Clara sat down on the plush edge of her bed, watching her. "I can't believe it's already been four years since we first met."
Dina offered a faint, melancholy smile, her eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears.
Noticing the shift, Clara looked at her with genuine worry. "What's wrong, Dina?"
"It's nothing, Princess," Dina whispered, wiping her eyes. "I am just... overwhelmed with happiness remembering the day Your Highness saved me all those years ago."
Five Years Ago — The Palace Gardens
Spring had fully enveloped the Everts Kingdom. The palace gardens were a breathtaking sea of vibrant, multicolored blossoms swaying in the breeze.
Right in the center of this paradise, a fragile little girl was stumbling along the stone path, desperately hauling a massive pastry box. The box was nearly as large as her entire, malnourished body.
Dina Vaza's breath hitched, her lungs burning. The package was far too heavy for a child her age. Yet, she did not dare utter a single complaint. Her aunt had drilled the warning into her mind countless times: "Do not allow a single mistake to happen."
Dina accelerated her pace as the garden gates came into view. Just a little further. Just a little further and the task is complete.
Suddenly, her foot caught against a protruding tree root.
Her tiny frame lurched forward, losing its balance entirely. She crashed violently onto the hard ground, and the pastry box flew from her grip.
CRASH.
Time seemed to grind to a horrifying halt. The exquisite cake she had spent the entire morning guarding with her life now lay utterly ruined on the dirt. Pristine white cream mingled with dust and mud, and the vibrant fruits that once adorned its surface were scattered carelessly across the grass.
Dina's face drained of all color, turning deathly pale. Her hands shook uncontrollably.
She hadn't even found the strength to draw a proper breath before a harsh, unforgiving grip clamped down tightly on her arm.
"You worthless, useless brat."
The venomous voice caused Dina's entire body to freeze in sheer terror.
It was Lise Vaza. Her aunt.
Without offering the child a single moment to explain herself or even stand up, the woman ruthlessly dragged Dina away from the beautiful gardens, towing her across the gravel.
When the heavy wooden door of the dark storage shed slammed shut, the world plunged back into a suffocating silence. Dina curled into a ball, hugging her bruised knees to her chest. Dust danced thick in the stale air. Her eyes burned fiercely, but she refused to cry. She had cried too many times before. It was pointless.
No one was coming for her. No one cared.
However, that day proved to be different. A short while later, the heavy rusting hinges of the door creaked open, breaking the silence with a sound that felt entirely foreign.
Dina lifted her head.
A young girl stood framed in the threshold. Her cascading golden hair caught the brilliant afternoon sunlight, reflecting a halo of warmth behind her. Her right eye burned with a brilliant gold, while her left eye held the deep serenity of a sapphire blue.
For a fleeting second, Dina genuinely believed she was hallucinating an angel.
The golden-haired girl stepped into the grim, dusty room. Her gaze immediately locked onto Dina's scraped, bleeding knees.
"You're hurt."
Dina fell utterly silent. Those two simple words felt incredibly bizarre. In her entire life, no one had ever noticed her pain first.
Without hesitation, the princess knelt directly in front of her. Her extraordinarily expensive, pristine gown pooled over the filthy, dust-covered floor of the shed without her caring in the slightest. Her small, delicate hand reached into her pocket, pulling out a spotless white handkerchief.
"Your knee is bleeding."
Dina reflexively yanked her leg backward in a panic. "N-No... I will ruin your fine handkerchief, My Lady!"
The princess blinked, her heterochromia eyes wide with innocence, as if she couldn't comprehend why that would ever be an issue.
"If it gets dirty, it can simply be washed," she replied softly.
The answer was so incredibly simple. Yet to Dina, those words carried more warmth than the afternoon sun. For the very first time in her existence, someone had chosen to value her well-being over a broken, material object.
The princess offered a gentle, genuine smile—a smile so pure it felt like a celestial being descending from the heavens.
"My name is Clara Zevienthe."
Dina's heart hammered violently against her ribs. She recognized that name. Every living soul within the palace walls knew it. The First Princess of the Everts Kingdom.
Yet, Clara didn't embody the haughty, arrogant princesses from the rigid cautionary tales she had been told. She wasn't a distant, unapproachable royal. She was merely a child, deeply worried because she saw another child in pain.
And for the first time in a long time, Dina felt the overwhelming urge to cry—not from sorrow, but from salvation.
The Present Day — The Princess's Chambers
"Ever since that fateful day... I have remained profoundly grateful that Your Highness found me," Dina sobbed softly, the tears finally overflowing and racing down her cheeks.
"It's alright now. Please don't cry," Clara comforted her gently, wrapping her arms around her loyal maid in a warm embrace, her face beaming with a tender smile.
"Thank you... Thank you so much, Princess."