Aveline was only 20 when she had reached a high level of success. Her businesses were doing great, and Evora became a name known throughout the empire. The orphanage had been prospering as well, with over 4 branches now. She had also discussed with Everett about opening branches in other regions and territories, which was stably underway.
She now had money and power. Two things she needed to get away from the Faylinn territory. A plan that not even Everett knew, but Aveline knew he had an idea. He wouldn't be happy about sending his sister away from their home, but he would still understand why that must be so.
She was unfortunate enough to have met some people who believed in the cursed child theory without a question. But Everett, Alden, and Anna were the exception. They chose to see the girl before they could see the monster. But that wasn't the case for everyone. The only reason her businesses and the orphanage were unaffected was because everyone knew her as Mistress Evora.
The people were strangely superstitious. Especially the commoners. They believed in the strangest customs and folktale. But the story about a cursed child killing their mother when they are brought into the world, using her life to grant one to themselves, was deep rooted already in people.
It wasn't difficult for Aveline to find out why. It was because of one person. The archbishop of the Velmoria archdiocese. That man had one day given a sermon, about how a child that kills their mother during birth was a spawn sent by the devil himself. How the child would bring bad luck and death upon those who was close to them. However, the archbishop specifically mentioned that killing such beings would bring great disaster upon those who did it. It would be better if they were left alone.
While Aveline was fortunate to have found Anna who saved and looked after her, the same could not have been said about the other children. In this era, it wasn't really uncommon for women to die during childbirth. Especially amongst the commoners.
The archbishop's sermon was a curse for these children. They were neglected, abused, and beaten. Anything but killed. Some would die of starvation before even reaching the age 5. And Aveline would feel rage develop in her blood at the thought of it.
The children, unaware of what they did wrong. Children who did not mean any harm, but were forced to suffer all the same. Suffer until they die. All because of one man. One sermon.
This was part of the reason why Aveline wanted to create Heaven's Hearth. She would personally search for children that were suffering under this false stigma. From rumors and stories, she found such children and took them in. Their fathers or "caretakers" never put up any fight when Aveline wanted to take them. Rather they were relieved.
One spell that helped Aveline find such children was one of her own creation, one she created when she first made Heaven's Hearth. By then, Aveline was close to becoming a Omnimage, at the breakthrough of it. Her knowledge and understanding of magic, along with her wild imagination of what she could use it for, gave rise to the spell Papilio Murmurantis (The Whispering Butterflies), a high-level illusion-sensory hybrid spell.
This spell created mana-constructed illusion butterflies that disperse through an area. Each butterfly carries embedded listening sigils and visual perception threads, attuned to specific semantic triggers rather than simple sound. Loosely translating the original incantation, the spell would be:
"Mana, divide and listen.
Take form without substance,
Eyes without presence,
Wings without shadow.
Seek not voices—seek meaning."
After formation, Aveline speaks the binding keywords, each etched into the butterflies as conceptual anchors:
"Bind to the echoes of scorn and fear.
When these words are born, follow."
"Cursed."
"Boy."
"Girl."
"Devil."
"Spawn."
Each keyword is not just sound-based but context-sensitive—the butterflies react when the words are spoken with intent, accusation, or malice. The butterflies scatter naturally, mimicking real flight patterns. They perch on walls, rooftops, trees, and windowsills. They remain dormant until a keyword is spoken with emotional charge or directed at a person.
Once triggered, the butterfly follows the source discreetly. It observes the speaker, the target, the surroundings. The audio and visual perception threads allowed them to gathers audio (spoken words, tone) and visual impressions (faces, locations, conditions).
When Aveline wishes to receive the gathered data, she initiates the recall.
"Return, silent witnesses.
Fold your wings into memory.
Let sight become thought,
Let sound become truth."
At this command, the butterflies dissolve into motes of light, the mana threads return to Aveline. The information she receives manifests as clear mental images, directional sense (distance and location) and emotional impressions tied to the event.
She experiences it as if standing nearby, though muted and brief.
Despite the spells many limitations (such as an inability to distinguish sarcasm from malice, causing sensory fatigue for Aveline, overlapping of memories, etc.), it helped her find many children who were suffering. And that was all that mattered.
******************
But Aveline knew she had to do more for the children. Not every child was aware of Heaven's Hearth, and Aveline did not know about the existence of every one of them either. While she was doing her best to keep finding more kids like that, she knew she had to do something at a bigger scale.
A scale she had never thought of before. A scale that would cover the entire Velmoria kingdom, and hopefully other areas. It had to be a law. A law that safeguards the rights and safety of children.
But for that to happen, Aveline didn't just need money and strength, but also power and authority. These were things she really lacked. She could bribe some nobles into putting this law forward, but it would never pass with just that. And nobles who were worthy enough to listen to, would not be bribed. They were rich enough.
Aveline had already accomplished much for her age, but it was never enough for her. She never measured her progress with how far she had come, but rather how far more she had to go. She still had to do something for the children, and she still had her promise with Alden to keep.
The North was still suffering. They were surrounded by enemies to their North (the barbarians), the west (by monsters in the high mountains), and the south (by the southern nobles). The only reprise they had was towards the east, which connected them to the ocean. The ocean had become a source of food and good for them, from fishing to hunting for pearls.
Aveline had tried to move the Evora guild to the North, hoping to help them develop the North. But the Northerners were more wary of people than she thought. Alden had warned her about them, but it seems like they don't trust anyone other than the people that were born there.
Aveline was distraught about what to do about these two problems. She had to help the North from the shadows and also had to somehow help the children in Velmoria.
As if the world would not allow her a second to ponder over these issues, a new problem was created. Something she knew was coming had she stayed at the Faylinn estate.
********************************
"A marriage what?"
Aveline was sitting in the Annex lounge when Everett chose to visit her. She had thought it would be just like any other visit, asking for tea to be brought. The servants simply nodded and left to get some. Aveline sighed. After Anna left for her hometown a few years ago, things at the annex did not feel at all homely.
While drinking tea, Everett decided to drop the bomb on her.
"A marriage agreement."
"Who's marriage agreement?"
"Yours Ava. Who else am I talking to here?" He semi-shouted, getting up from his seat and started to pace back and forth.
"Father made an agreement for your hand in marriage. And it seems there were a lot of nobles in favor of this decision. A lot of our retainers actually welcomed the idea. I tried getting him to say no, but he wouldn't budge. Damned old man."
Unbeknownst to Aveline, Everett actually argued up a whole storm in front of all the people of the manor when arguing with his father. There were several rumours going around about how Everett would often visit his sister, but no one knew how close they had actually become. Even though the whole estate was discussing sending Aveline away, it was only Everett fighting for her to stay.
"You pretending her whole life that she never existed. But all of the sudden you want to sell her off?" Everett yelled towards his father in his office.
"This is not something you must worry about."
"She is my sister!"
"SHE IS NOT YOUR SISTER!" his father's voiced boom as he stood from his desk. "SHE IS A SPAWN OF THE DEVIL. A MURDERED WHO TOOK YOUR MOTHER FROM US. IF I DECIDE SHE WILL ROT IN THAT BUILDING, THEN SHE WILL ROT." he stumped his fist on the desk.
Everett could only stare at him. Severin soon calmed down. "And if I decide to send her away, then away she will go." He sat back at his desk. "Leave. I will not entertain this discussion any more."
Before Everett could argue, he felt a hand on his arm, pulling him back. It was his brother. Once outside the office and in the hallway, his brother let go of his arm. "Stop trying to aggravate father for nothing."
Nothing? Was that what their sister was for them? Nothing? Everett could only let out a sarcastic chuckle. "You are the same as him. Actually you are worse, brother. He came to his own conclusion about Aveline, no matter how wrong. But you? You're just following his thoughts without having any of your own."
He didn't wait for a response and simply walked away. He had grown up with his brother playing with him and looking out for him. With his father caring for him. But those memories were not enough to pardon their attitudes towards Aveline, his sister.
Aveline couldn't respond, still shaken by the news. Although she expected this to happen sooner or later, it was still an unpleasant topic.
Everett continued to pace back and forth, until Aveline had to tell him to just sit down.
"It's okay. I kind of expected it to come one of these days."
"I know. You were preparing to leave here, run away."
"Of course you knew. I kind of figured that too." Aveline smirked.
"But Aveline. This isn't just some marriage proposal."
"What do you mean?"
Everett sighed. "This marriage agreement, this marriage, it's basically a command from the king."
"What?"
"I don't know the whole story. But the king was the one who ordered for this marriage agreement between the two parties.
"Why would the kin.. Wait, who's the second party?"
That should have been her first question. Who was she getting married to? But it didn't matter at first. Whoever it was, she had no plans of marrying him.
"Caelum Eryndale." Everett said softly.
Aveline's eyes widened. Caelum ….. Eryndale? Alden's younger brother? "Wh.. What? Why would he even agree to this?"
"He had to. I'm not sure what's going on in his mind. But you know that Eryndale lost their heir, Alden, not too long ago. Until now, Caelum was kind of like an interim duke. Taking care of the place without being an official duke. The crown never accepted him as such. And never took the oath from him.
"Don't tell me.."
"Yeah. Him becoming the duke is contingent on marrying you now. And it's not like he can refuse and go to war against the kingdom. The North isn't strong enough for that. So he had to agree."
"Fuck.."
"Language Ava!" Everett squeaked.
"Oh shutup. You try being in this situation and not cursing."
"ANYWAY…" Everett cut her off. "The problem is that if you refuse or run away, it would effectively make you the enemy of the crown. Not just you…"
"The Faylinn family too, huh." She completed the sentence. "Fuck"
"Yeah. Fuck" Everett resigned himself to cursing.
The two of them sat there in silence for a long while, each thinking what it was that they wanted to do, trying to process the information.
"I'll do it." Aveline broke the silence. "I'll get married" The phrase felt weird in her mouth.
"What? Are you serious?" Everett spoke, rising from his seat.
"Yes. It's actually a good opportunity."
"A goo.. Ajubwa… A GOOD OPPORTUNITY??" Everett shouted, his tongue flipping over his own words. His poor sister seems to have been more shocked by the news than he initially thought. Poor thing.
"Think about it. If I were to run way, the entire nation would be looking for me. And the Faylinn territory will have incurred the king's wrath as well. While I can't really say I care about it that much, it also includes you. Especially you. They'll think you know where I am."
It wasn't a secret that Everett was close to the cursed child. While their father and older brother initially tried to prevent that from happening, they soon realized that Everett wasn't the type to listen. As long as Aveline didn't cross any boundaries, they were fine with it.
"Plus, this might be my chance. You know how hard I've been trying to get an opportunity to get into the Eryndale territory. This might be it. I can go there. I can help them. And I can find out more about what happened to Alden." With every word, Aveline became more determined that this was the right choice. The best choice.
And Everett could see that. He could only sigh. "Would it kill you to not make sense all the time." It was at that moment that Everett realized something. He had never really stopped to ponder the passing of time. But he could see it now. The little child he met and often annoyed, the child who would look at him with exasperation, was now a determined woman. She had grown up. He felt as proud as he did sad.
"It's still not going to be easy, you know. The people of Eryndale … they are not really welcoming. Especially towards the people from the south. And they are much more superstitious than anyone. And I won't be there."
That was his biggest concern. Until now, Aveline was within sight. He could help her just like he did when she first wanted to open a new business. Like when she had to fight the Tailor's guild or needed to get a new building and people.
But this time would be different. She would be miles away. Alone. "Maybe this isn't a good idea after all.
Aveline smiled. "It is. For me. For the goals I have. Everett." She spoke his name softly, raising from his seat and going towards him, placing a hand on his arm. "I have money. I have the power to protect myself. And I want to use it." She said, calmly.
"And I will. This is actually a great opportunity. Not only would this give me a chance to help Eryndale and find out more about Alden's death, but also give me a position where I can do more. I will be duchess. I will make Eryndale prosper, and make the Dukedom stronger than ever. So much so that no one would be able to say otherwise. And for that, I'll need your help."
Everett stared at his sister's eyes as she spoke. For a second, as Aveline looked up at him, he saw a glimpse of that 6 year old he met. She still looked the same, but also not. The little girl really had grown up. Maybe it was this determined gaze that had him go with whatever plan Aveline had come up with up to this point. As a businessman, he knew to trust the person just as much as their idea. And every idea Aveline came up with, it changed the world for the better.
He smiled. "As if you'll have to ask."
Aveline smiled right back. The duo perhaps already knew deep down. That even though they are separating, they'll always have each other. And that the decision they made today would change the Velmoria Kingdom forever.
And that is exactly what they did. Not too far in the future.
**************************
A few weeks ago.
The room looked and felt cold, even in the midst of summer. Even in summer, the North did not truly warm. The large grey walls with just a single window was enough for anyone to feel the coldness in the room. But it was something else that made it colder.
In the middle of the room stood the Lord's table. It was elegant and neat. Its long sturdy legs were designed in a noble fashion, not too lavish nor simple. The table was surrounded by 9 people, 4 on each side and one at the high seat. At the foot of the table were two young men, and next to them two women, the only two women in the room.
As you moved forward, the age of the men grew, until it reached the main chair. The man sitting there was young. Only in his 20s, the others looked far older when sitting next to him.
He was tall—unmistakably so even though he was sitting down—with broad shoulders that spoke of years spent in armor rather than courtly silks. His posture was rigid, precise, the stance of a man accustomed to command and battle alike. Even without a blade in his hand, he looked dangerous—contained, controlled, and sharp.
His eyes were grey, the color of an overcast sky before snowfall. Cold. Distant. Unreadable. They swept across the grounds with quiet scrutiny, noting every misstep, every faltering movement, yet betraying nothing of his thoughts.
Despite the season, he wore the North upon him. Dark fabrics, tailored and severe, layered for practicality rather than ornamentation. No furs weighed him down—summer did not warrant them—but the cut of his coat, the high collar, and the muted tones marked him unmistakably as a man of Eryndale. Caelum Eryndale was a northern through and through.
A sealed letter lay open before him, its crimson wax broken, the royal sigil of Velmoria staring accusingly up at them all.
Silence pressed down like a held breath.
"So," one of the men finally said, voice rough with age. Lord Halvar, steward of Eryndale, leaned back in his chair. "The King has decided to marry you off."
"A command," corrected another. "Not a suggestion. Unless you don't want the Lord to get his duke title."
"That makes it worse," Halvar muttered.
Caelum did not look up from the parchment. His grey eyes traced the words again, though he had memorized them the moment he read them.
By royal authority, Duke Caelum Eryndale is to wed Lady Aveline Faylinn…
A marriage. Political. Strategic. Calculated.
"Faylinn," said Captain Rorik, arms crossed over his armor. "Southern territory. Old blood. Deep roots."
"And a cursed daughter," added Lady Marek sharply. "Let's not dress it up."
That earned a few grim nods around the table.
"Aveline Faylinn," Marek continued, "the girl blamed for her mother's death. Neglected. Ignored. Rumored to carry a curse from birth." She leaned forward. "And now the King wants her placed in the North."
"To weaken us," Rorik said without hesitation.
"To spy," another lord added. "Or both."
Caelum finally lifted his gaze.
The room stilled instantly.
"Speak carefully," he said, voice calm, cold, and even. "Speculation is not strategy."
Marek inclined his head, unrepentant. "With respect, my lord, this is strategy. The South has numbers. Wealth. Stability. We have barbarians pressing our borders from the North and monsters crawling down from the western mountains."
Halvar exhaled heavily. "We are strong, but we are stretched."
"Too stretched to defy a royal command," Rorik said. "If we refuse—"
"We give the King justification," Caelum finished.
Justification for sanctions. For troop movements. For political isolation.
Or worse.
"A war we cannot afford," Halvar said quietly.
Silence returned, heavier now.
One of the younger lords shifted uncomfortably. "What do we actually know of her?"
"Little," Marek replied. "She's invisible in court. Never attends gatherings. No allies. No scandals either."
"That's what worries me," Rorik said. "A pawn that clean is never accidental."
Caelum leaned back in his chair at last, fingers interlacing.
"A cursed girl," he said slowly. "Sent north under royal decree. Into a territory already bleeding from multiple fronts."
He looked around the table.
"Tell me—if you were the King, what would you hope happens?"
No one answered immediately.
Then Halvar spoke, voice grim. "That she causes division. Weakens your authority. Or gives him an excuse to interfere directly in Northern governance."
"Or," Marek added, "that you refuse—and he gains a righteous reason to move against Eryndale."
Caelum's gaze dropped to the letter again.
The decision was already clear.
He simply hadn't spoken it yet.
He wonders what his father or older brother would have said had they seen the letter. His father would have probably ripped it apart, yelling that if a fight was what the king wanted then a fight is what he would get. His brother, on the other hand, would have tried to think strategically. Caelum had to be like both of them.
"If she is a spy," Rorik said carefully, "bringing her here places the threat inside our walls."
"And if we refuse," Caelum replied, "the threat comes with banners and soldiers."
The room fell silent.
Finally, Caelum stood.
The scrape of his chair against stone echoed like a verdict.
"We do not have the luxury of pride," he said. "Nor the illusion of choice."
He looked at each of them in turn—men and women who had bled for the North, who loved it as fiercely as he did.
"I will accept the marriage."
No one spoke.
Not in relief.
Not in agreement.
Only in understanding.
"If Lady Aveline Faylinn comes to Eryndale," Caelum continued, voice steady, "she will do so under my roof, under my laws, and under my watch."
His grey eyes hardened.
"If she is a weapon, I will see its edge."
"And if she is merely a pawn," he added, "then the King has miscalculated."
The men around the table straightened.
Caelum turned back toward the window, toward the distant North—harsh, unforgiving, and worth every sacrifice.
"Prepare the household," he ordered. "And send word south."
The decision was made.
Winter might not have arrived yet-
but the cold had already settled in.
However, while they speculated, none at the table could land exactly on why the King chose Aveline. It was neither as a spy nor as an aim to induce war. But rather a much simpler and more superstitious one. She was a cursed child. Her existence alone would put the North in turmoil. That is what the king believed. And that very belief led to the biggest mistake he could make regarding the North.