A group of young nobles rode through the forest on a hunting trip. Laughter echoed between the trees as their horses slowed near a waterfall.
Among them rode Dian.
Even as a teenager, Dian carried a strange beauty—cold, sharp, and distant. His presence drew attention easily. His pale face and calm eyes gave him an almost royal aura, and the other boys followed him naturally.
They stopped beneath a large tree beside the rushing water.
As they rested, something moved in the forest clearing.
A golden deer stepped gently from the shadows.
Its coat shimmered in the sunlight like living gold. The creature lowered its head to drink from the stream, unaware of the hunters watching it.
Dian's eyes lit up with excitement.
A thrill rushed through his veins.
"Look at that," he said, slowly lifting his bow. "I'm going to kill it. We'll have a fine meal tonight."
One of the boys immediately grabbed his arm.
"Dian—don't!" he whispered urgently. "That's a sacred animal of the Arkan clan."
Dian looked at him, then burst into laughter.
"That makes it even better," he said mockingly. "Think about it—we are their gods."
He raised his bow and released the arrow.
But before his arrow could reach the deer—
CLANG.
Another arrow shot from the opposite direction, splitting Dian's arrow cleanly in half.
The broken pieces fell harmlessly to the ground.
The hunters turned in shock.
A young prince rode out from the trees on a white horse.
It was Gretchen.
His eyes glowed faintly, and his presence carried an effortless authority. Even the air seemed to shift around him.
"Are you stupid?" Gretchen shouted angrily.
"That is a sacred creature. No one touches it."
Some of Dian's companions whispered nervously.
"That's Gretchen… the prince of the Arkan clan."
Dian only smiled.
"So what?" he said coldly. "We don't worship it."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Our gods don't need protection. Apparently yours do."
Gretchen dismounted immediately.
He strode toward Dian, fury burning in his eyes.
Dian's guards raised their weapons, but Dian lifted a hand, signaling them to lower them.
Gretchen grabbed Dian by the collar.
"We eat meat too," he said firmly. "But we know the difference between sacred and ordinary life."
With a shove, he pushed Dian to the ground.
Without another word, Gretchen climbed back onto his horse and rode away.
The golden deer disappeared into the forest.
Dian slowly rose from the dirt.
A thin smile spread across his face.
That night.
Dian slipped out of his house inside the Seven Gates.
No guards. No witnesses.
He rode silently through the darkness until he reached the forests of the Arkan clan.
The waterfall roared softly in the distance.
He waited there.
For hours.
His face remained calm, but his eyes burned with quiet determination.
At last, the golden deer appeared again.
But this time, it was not alone.
A small fawn walked beside it.
Dian slowly lifted his bow.
Two arrows rested between his fingers.
He released them.
The forest shattered with a terrible cry.
The golden deer collapsed onto the stones beside the waterfall.
Blood spread through the water like dark ink.
Dian walked forward slowly.
Without hesitation, he cut off the deer's head and placed it upon the rocks near the rushing water.
Then he lifted the body over his shoulder.
As he walked back toward the Seven Gates, he began to hum softly to himself, almost cheerfully.
Somewhere far away, Gretchen suddenly woke in his bed.
A strange unease twisted in his chest.
Something sacred had just died.
And the forest seemed to know it.