The morning after the king's summon, Morix stood on the training grounds, watching his soldiers practice. Swords clashed, men shouted commands, and dust rose with every step. Morix corrected stances and pointed out mistakes, but his mind wasn't fully there.
It drifted back to her.
The faceless girl who visited his dreams since he was young.
She never appeared clearly. Sometimes she was just a shadow glowing like moonlight. Sometimes he only heard her soft laugh. Other times, he felt her small hand holding his as they ran through fields that didn't exist in the real world.
He remembered the warmth of those dreams the way she said his name like she had known him forever.
"Morix…"
Many mornings, he woke with wet eyes.
Many mornings, he felt like something important was missing.
Like he had lost someone… without ever meeting them.
Was she real?
A memory from childhood?
Or only a dream?
Morix didn't know.
But every day, when he opened his eyes, the same question hit him:
Will I see her tonight… or will she disappear forever?
A loud argument snapped him out of his thoughts.
Three soldiers were bickering near the training ring.
"The king is the strongest!" the first shouted. "He's the Sword Saint!"
"You fool," the second replied. "General Weldonier was stronger. They say he could split a hill with one strike."
"You're both wrong," the third said. "The strongest is General Morix. His Majesty hasn't fought in years. Morix survives every war. That's real strength."
The other two hesitated.
Morix sighed quietly.
Titles, legends, sword saints…
He didn't care about any of that.
Not when he couldn't even understand the emptiness in his chest.
He pushed those thoughts aside. There were duties to handle duties nobody else knew the full weight of.
Before he could start a new drill, the sound of wheels rolling over gravel cut through the courtyard.
A royal carriage entered.
The soldiers straightened instantly.
Conversations stopped.
Weapons lowered.
Morix's eyes narrowed.
The eldest prince had arrived.
The carriage door opened, and the prince stepped out with calm confidence. His sharp gaze swept over the soldiers until it landed on Morix.
"General Morix," he said, walking toward him, "your presence is required. The engagement preparations cannot continue without you."
Morix stood tall, silent, waiting.
The prince's next words hit him stronger than expected.
"The Princess of Seraphyne will reach the capital soon. The king wants you to handle her security personally."
Morix felt a strange tug inside his chest.
A faint pull.
A quiet warning.
A step toward something he couldn't name.
He didn't know why…
but he felt the world around him slowly turning.
As if fate had finally caught up.