The air inside the chamber shimmered as though it had been polished by magic itself—clear, biting, and unnaturally cold. It pressed against the skin, sharp enough to make even seasoned warriors uneasy. Within that crystalline stillness stood two figures locked not in combat, but in tension.
Hakan, clad in dark, battle-worn armor, rested a gauntleted hand against his side. His long black hair fell loosely over his shoulders, framing a face carved by experience and fatigue. Across from him stood a woman whose presence radiated feral confidence. Her russet hair spilled freely down her back, her ears tapering into sharp points—proof that she was a shifter, even now partially transformed. Her eyes gleamed with something between contempt and challenge.
"Do you really think we can defeat them easily," she asked, lips curling into a faint sneer, "as long as we have the Black Hawk Powder, Hakan?"
Her tone suggested she already knew the answer—and doubted it.
Hakan did not respond immediately. His gaze drifted downward, thoughtful, weighed by battles already fought and lives already lost. At last, he spoke, his voice low and measured.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. "If it were that simple… wouldn't your tribe have wiped them out already?"
The question struck its mark. The woman's expression tightened, her confidence faltering just slightly. After a brief pause, she gave a short nod of acknowledgment.
"You're right."
She straightened, her claws flexing unconsciously as she explained. "Most shifters can only maintain their transformations for a limited time. That's when the powder works best—the odor disrupts them, weakens them." Her eyes darkened. "But there are exceptions."
Hakan looked up sharply. "Exceptions?"
"There are shifters who can transform permanently."
A beat of silence passed.
"What?" Hakan asked. "How?"
Her jaw clenched. When she answered, her voice carried no hesitation—only grim certainty.
"By killing a human," she said. "And eating their heart."
The words fell heavily between them, grotesque and final. The chamber seemed colder still.
She continued, as though reciting a truth she had long since accepted. "Once they do that, they're no longer bound by time. They can change their appearance freely—even after transforming. Hair color. Skin tone. Even facial structure."
Hakan's fists tightened. "So they can hide anywhere."
"Yes." She exhaled sharply. "That's why they're so hard to catch."
He tried to grasp at certainty. "Then the Black Hawk Powder—does it still work?"
"It does," she replied, eyes narrowing. "But only if it touches their skin directly." Her gaze flicked meaningfully toward his armor. "And tell me—how do you plan to do that when they cover every inch of themselves in metal?"
Hakan fell silent.
At last, he turned away, staring into the distance as though searching for an end he could no longer see.
"I thought this was almost over…" he murmured. "But there are still more than ten shifters left."
His voice hardened, carrying the weight of inevitability.
"This might be the hardest part yet."
---
The Waiting and the Missing
Far from the cold strategies of war, a softer light filled another place entirely.
Titi entered the room with careful steps, her arms stacked high with books. Despite the weight, she beamed brightly.
"I brought all the books you asked for!"
On the sofa sat a woman with flowing white hair that glowed softly in the light. Her hands rested protectively over her rounded belly. Pregnancy had not dulled her beauty—if anything, it gave her an almost otherworldly serenity.
"Thank you, Titi," she said gently.
The girl set the books down with a small thud, eyes widening. "You wanted books about the Brion Temple, the Cameru religion, holy power… and the Moon Tribe, right?" She tilted her head in awe. "You've been reading so much lately. And so fast, too."
The woman smiled, though something unspoken flickered behind her eyes.
The scene slowly softened, fading into drifting starlight and the quiet silhouette of branches swaying beyond the window. A single thought echoed through the stillness—heavy, aching, and deeply human.
This might be the hardest part yet.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of a book.
I miss Lucina more than ever today.
The battles and the hunt were cruel, but waiting—waiting without certainty—was its own kind of war.
---
The Burden of Waiting
The chamber glowed warmly, gilded by sunlight and silence. Months had passed since Hakan left to hunt the shifters, yet time moved strangely in Tayar. Without clear seasons to mark its passage, the days blurred together—long, quiet, and filled with absence.
Titi lingered near the doorway, worry etched across her young face.
"My Lady…"
The white-haired woman gave a gentle nod. "If I don't keep myself busy," she confessed softly, "I'll only keep worrying about him."
Titi curtsied. "I'll excuse myself."
When the door closed, the room felt larger—and emptier.
The woman rose and looked out across the sunlit land.
"There are no clear signs the seasons have changed," she murmured. "So it doesn't feel like he's been gone that long…"
She shook her head slowly.
"No. I keep thinking about him."
Resolute, she returned to her seat and opened a book.
"I should start reading before I start worrying again."
A small smile touched her lips.
"I'm glad I learned how to read."
The books were more than distraction. They were preparation.
"It means I can fill in for him while he's away… and read in my spare time."
---
The Secret of the Moon Tribe
Golden light spilled across the pages as she turned to a section marked The Moon Tribe.
Not much is known about the Moon Tribe.
Her brows knit together as she read on. They were believed to be the origin of the Cameru religion. Their name came from their appearance—and from the powers said to have been granted to them by the moon itself.
Her hand stilled.
I really wanted to know if I inherited their blood…
Her eyes widened as she turned the page.
An illustration stared back at her—a woman with white hair and a radiant halo of light.
"Huh…?"
She leaned closer, breath caught in her throat.
"This woman…"
The resemblance was unmistakable.
The text named her:
Lierre de Lumarouh, Lady of the Lumarouh. Princess of the sacred birthplace of the Cameru religion.
Her fingers trembled as she touched her own reflection in the glass.
"Doesn't she… look just like me?"
She forced herself to think rationally.
"Could she be the person Puka saw in the Baron's mansion?"
No. The timeline didn't match.
"She was born long ago… she couldn't still look this young."
The book offered no answers.
"I guess not…"
Yet the image lingered, burning itself into her thoughts.
Is it just a coincidence…?
---
The room fell quiet after Lucina's soft words.
"If I don't keep myself busy, I keep worrying about Hakan."
Titi hesitated, her dark braids swaying as she shifted her weight. She could hear the strain hidden beneath Lucina's calm voice. Still, she nodded obediently, masking her concern with a practiced smile.
"Call me if you need anything, My Lady," she said gently.
Lucina returned the smile, faint but sincere. The heavy door closed behind Titi with a muted thud, sealing the room in silence once more.
Time had become a strange thing in Tayar. Several months had already passed since Hakan left to hunt the shifters, yet the land remained eternally bathed in sunlight. Lucina stood by the window, gazing out at the golden scenery beyond the glass.
"There are no clear signs that the seasons have changed in Tayar…" she murmured. "So it doesn't feel like he's been gone that long."
Her fingers tightened slightly against the window frame.
"And yet… I keep thinking about him."
The thought refused to leave her, coiling tightly around her heart. Determined not to let anxiety consume her, Lucina turned back to the low table and opened the thick, timeworn book resting there.
"I should start reading before I start worrying again," she said quietly, turning a page. A small, grateful smile crossed her lips. "I'm glad I learned how to read."
It was more than a pastime. Reading allowed her to fill in for Hakan while he was away—to shoulder a fraction of his responsibilities, to remain useful, to keep her mind from wandering down darker paths.
Her eyes scanned the page, settling on the section she had been seeking.
Not much is known about the Moon Tribe.
Lucina leaned closer. The text spoke of an ancient people believed to be the origin of the Cameru religion, named for their appearance and said to possess special powers bestowed by the moon itself.
"I really wanted to know if I inherited their blood…" she whispered, her fingertips tracing the faded letters.
She turned the page—and froze.
Her breath caught as her gaze landed on a detailed illustration.
"This woman…"
The portrait depicted a solemn, beautiful figure crowned in soft light. White hair framed her face, her features elegant and eerily familiar.
Lucina's hand trembled as she glanced at her reflection in the glass nearby.
"Doesn't she… look just like me?"
Her eyes returned to the page, reading the inscription beneath the image.
Lierre de Lumarouh.
Lady of the Lumarouh.
Princess of the sacred birthplace of the Cameru religion.
Lucina swallowed.
"She was born a long time ago," she reasoned softly. "So I doubt she'd still look so young."
The memory of Puka's vision crossed her mind—but she shook her head, dismissing it. Logic prevailed, yet the unease refused to fade.
"Is it just a coincidence… that we look similar?" she wondered. "She could be a distant ancestor…"
Suddenly—
"OW!"
A sharp, crippling pain tore through her body, stealing the breath from her lungs. Lucina cried out as agony surged through her side. The image of Lierre de Lumarouh blurred and vanished as she clutched herself tightly.
"That's strange…" she gasped. "The pain is getting worse lately."
Her breathing became shallow and uneven. Adar's warning echoed in her mind—how carrying a Dragon's child would not be easy—but this pain felt different. Stronger. Urgent.
She staggered, bracing herself against the furniture.
"Titi… are you there?" she called weakly.
The pain intensified, overwhelming her strength. With a strained cry, she collapsed back into her seat.
"UGH—!"
The door clicked open almost immediately.
"You called, My Lady?"
Titi stepped inside—and froze.
Lucina's face was pale, her body contorted in pain, sweat beading at her temples.
"Oh no—MY LADY!" Titi gasped.
Panic flashed across her features, but she forced herself to calm down. Turning sharply, she ran for the door.
"I'll… get some help right away!"
A short while later, Lucina lay resting on the bed as a mature woman carefully examined her condition. The woman's expression grew increasingly grave.
"This doesn't look good," she said.
Titi hovered nearby, wringing her hands. "What? Why?"
The woman straightened, her voice steady but serious. "She's going to give birth soon."
"WHAT?!" Titi shrieked. "But it hasn't been ten months yet!"
The woman nodded solemnly. "This can sometimes happen when a woman is pregnant with a Dragon's child."
She glanced at Lucina's weakened form and sighed.
"However… the biggest issue is that the King isn't here right now."
Lucina stirred, forcing herself to speak despite the pain.
"Titi…"
"Yes, My Lady?"
"I'm fine… so… don't tell Hakan…"
Titi's eyes widened in disbelief. "What are you talking about?!" she burst out. "So you're going to give birth without the King knowing?! He should experience the joy and excitement of witnessing the birth of his own child!"
Lucina looked at her, exhausted but calm, and offered a faint smile.
"Yes… you're right…"
Titi wiped her eyes, determination hardening her expression. "Of course I am. I'll notify the King immediately."
Not long after, a white dove took flight from the palace. From beneath its wings, a small black bird darted forward, carrying an urgent message tied carefully to its leg. It soared high above the domed rooftops of Tayar, racing toward the distant battlefield.
The message had been sent.
Now, all Lucina could do was endure—and wait.