The carriage rocked softly beneath the pale light of the moon. The air inside was quiet and still, the only sound was the gentle rhythm of wheels rolling over damp soil after the rain. Kael sat beside Elric, his head resting lightly on her shoulder, his hand gripping hers as though afraid she might disappear if he let go.
Neither spoke for a while. The warmth between their palms was comforting, but Kael's heart still throbbed with confusion. His mind replayed what had just happened — the kiss, the closeness, the way his body had moved on its own. He still couldn't understand what possessed him to do it.
His lips parted softly. "...Sorry about that," he said at last, his voice quiet, almost a whisper.
Elric blinked, turning slightly to look at him. "About what?" she asked gently, a small smile curving her lips. "You think I'm mad at you?"
Kael didn't answer right away. His eyes dropped, avoiding her gaze though his heart wanted to look at her. "I... lost control," he murmured. His pale face was tinged with red, and the way he spoke made him seem smaller, almost fragile — nothing like the warrior he once was.
Elric chuckled softly, a sound that felt like the first warmth after winter. She shifted her seat to face him fully, taking both of his hands into hers. "Do you hate it?" she asked softly.
Kael's eyes widened slightly at the question. Hate it? He didn't even know. The warmth still lingered on his lips, the comfort of her touch burned into his skin. But it wasn't supposed to happen — not like that, not from him. He slowly shook his head.
Elric exhaled with relief. "Then don't apologize," she said, her tone warm and sure. "I liked it. I liked how you held me, Kael…" Her eyes searched his, steady and tender. "For a moment, it felt like the real you. The one who isn't hiding behind pain or guilt. Don't keep locking yourself away. Don't hold yourself back anymore, all right?"
Her smile was soft, patient. The same kind of smile she had always given him — not one of pity, but quiet understanding.
Kael stared at her hands, the ones holding his so tightly, then nodded once. Elric's lips curved again, and she reached up to brush his hair. The moonlight spilled across his head, turning his white strands almost silver, while the faint trace of black still hidden near the roots caught her eye.
Her thumb lingered there for a moment before she sighed quietly. "Kael…" her voice gentled, almost hesitant. "Earlier, what dream did you see?"
Kael didn't respond right away. The question pressed deep into him, stirring the pain that still lingered behind his temples. His breath grew shallow as fragments of that memory flickered again — the rain, the field, the children, and the blood.
Elric waited, patient as always, her thumb still tracing his cheek. "Can you tell me?" she whispered. "Maybe I can help… or at least ease it."
Kael closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again, they were distant — filled with something hollow and raw. "Kids…" his voice trembled. "I saw them being killed. Some of them had red hair and red eyes… I was one of them." His hand pressed against his chest, as though the phantom wound still ached beneath his ribs. "There was a flower field. We ran… then I was stabbed by a man. But I don't think that was me. Since… I'm still here."
Elric's breath caught. She tightened her hold on his hand, pulling it closer to her chin as she thought. Her brows furrowed, the wheels in her mind turning. "You said… red hair and red eyes?" she repeated slowly. "Then maybe… it's connected to the Taylor Foundation."
Kael's brows knitted faintly, confusion flickering in his eyes. Elric took a deep breath, realizing something she had forgotten to say — something Reinhardt once mentioned but Kael never knew.
"I forgot to tell you," she began softly, her tone cautious, almost regretful. "Before you received your noble name — Michael Einhart Delcra — you had another name."
Kael's gaze lifted to her. His lips parted slightly, as though trying to ask but too afraid of what he might hear.
Elric met his eyes and smiled faintly, though her voice trembled when she spoke. "Michael Taylor. That was your real name."
The world seemed to fall silent around them. The name echoed in the quiet carriage like the ghost of a life long buried. Kael froze, staring blankly as if the sound of it pierced through his heart — a name that felt familiar yet foreign, like a memory just out of reach.
Elric took a slow breath, watching his reaction carefully. "This empire… no, even before that — the old kingdom — used to believe that children born with red eyes and red hair were cursed," she began, her voice low and steady. "The old folks feared them, treated them as if they didn't belong to this world."
Her gaze drifted toward the moonlit window. "They thought such children brought calamity — bad harvest, sickness, even war. So they branded them as 'omens of blood.' Many of those children were abandoned, some hunted down."
Kael's eyes darkened. The faint ache in his head pulsed again, as if the words themselves unlocked something buried deep inside him.
Elric turned back to him, her expression softening. "You are one of them, Kael," she said quietly. "You were born with red eyes. The records said you were adopted by the Taylor Orphanage."
Her tone grew heavier. "That orphanage wasn't what people believed it was. They used those children — the ones born under that mark — for experiments, slavery… even sacrifices. Human trafficking under the guise of faith and purification."
Kael's breath caught. His hand instinctively moved to his chest, then lower, tracing the old scars hidden beneath his shirt — marks that even time could not erase.
Elric's eyes softened further, her voice trembling slightly. "You know those scars on your body, right?" she said gently. "They're not from the battlefield, Kael. You were abused… long before you ever picked up a sword."
The words hung in the air like a curse neither of them wanted to speak further.
Elric lowered her eyes, her hand resting on his arm. "I don't know the full story of how you ended up in the palace," she continued softly, "but I think Reinhardt knows. He always did."
Kael's gaze flickered toward her — quiet, searching.
"He grew up with you, after all," she said, smiling faintly. "He was the one who found you when you were brought to the capital. After he ascended and became Emperor, he declared the old kingdom reborn as the Emestrild Empire. And the first thing he tried to change… was this belief."
Her smile turned wistful, proud even. "He wanted to erase the idea that any child could be born cursed. People began to change — slowly, painfully — but they did. Especially after you were chosen as the Hero."
She looked down, her fingers curling slightly around his sleeve. "When you defeated the Demon King, everyone saw your eyes — those same red eyes once feared. They called you a savior, not a curse."
Elric chuckled softly, though her voice held a trace of sadness. "But not everyone accepted it. The old monarchists, the priests, and the nobles who clung to the past… they didn't change. Some of them still whisper that the Hero who saved the world carries the blood of sin."
Kael's eyes lowered. His hand tightened slightly over his knee, but he said nothing.
Elric watched him for a moment, her heart softening. "I still remember when we first met," she said gently. "I was… drawn to your eyes. Maybe you didn't notice it back then."
Her hand moved up, her fingertips brushing over his eyelids. "Your eyes glitter with a golden light when they meet the sun," she whispered. "It's beautiful."
Kael's lashes trembled under her touch, but he didn't move away.
Elric's hand slowly dropped to her lap. Her smile dimmed, replaced by quiet thought. "Reinhardt used both you and Iris to change people's hearts," she said. "And it worked. The people began to see 'curse-born' children differently. You became proof that light can be born from darkness."
She looked up again, her expression tender but serious. "That's why the House of Delcra accepted you as their new lord, Kael. Not only because Reinhardt ordered it, but because they believed in you — the man who changed how the empire saw the world."
The carriage rocked gently. Kael leaned slightly against the seat, eyes lowered, still listening.
Elric hesitated before speaking again. "But your story… it never mentioned what happened before you arrived at the palace," she said softly. "It was as if someone erased that part of your life."
Her tone softened even further, her voice like the night breeze brushing against the curtain. "If you want to know more," she said, "you should write to Reinhardt. Ask him directly. He wouldn't deny you if you begged him."
She smiled faintly, a warmth in her voice. "He can ignore anyone in this world, but not you."
Kael turned his face toward her, the faint light reflecting in his eyes — uncertain, lost, and yet quietly comforted. Elric reached out once more, resting her hand lightly on his cheek.
"Don't carry everything alone anymore," she whispered. "There are people who still want to protect you, Kael. Even after all this time."
Her thumb brushed his jaw as the carriage swayed softly under the moonlight. Kael didn't answer — he only closed his eyes, his hand tightening around hers, as though grounding himself in her warmth.
The silence stretched between them, filled not with distance but with quiet understanding. And beneath that pale light, the truth of Kael's forgotten name — and the pain it carried — began to take root in the fragile space between them.
lric leaned back slightly, her tone turning quiet yet firm. "This empire — no, even before it became an empire — the old kingdom had an ancient belief." She paused, her gaze drifting to the moonlight as if recalling old stories she wished weren't true. "They believed that a child born with red eyes and red hair was cursed. The old folks thought they didn't belong to this world."
Her voice hardened, sorrow and anger lacing through it. "They treated them as omens, as things to be feared or erased."
Kael's eyes lowered. His breath slowed. He could feel the echo of that pain somewhere deep inside, even if he couldn't remember it clearly.
Elric turned toward him, her expression soft but serious. "You were one of them, Kael. You were born with red eyes. You were adopted by the Taylor Orphanage." She hesitated before continuing, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "That place… it wasn't what people thought it was."
She drew a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "They used those children — the ones born with red hair and red eyes — as slaves, as sacrifices. Some were sold through human trafficking. You know the scars on your body, don't you?"
Kael's gaze fell to his hands. Beneath his shirt, his body bore countless old scars — deep, twisted marks that no healing magic could erase. He had never known where most of them came from. He had simply accepted them as remnants of a life lost to war. But now… it was different.
Elric's eyes softened with pity and sadness. "You were abused by the foundation when you were a child. I don't know the full details of how you ended up in the palace," she admitted. "But… I think Reinhardt knows."
The sound of his name brought a faint flicker to Kael's eyes. Reinhardt — the one who had stood beside him through every storm.
Elric continued quietly, "He must have known. He grew up with you after you were brought to the palace, didn't he? After he ascended and turned the old kingdom into the Emestrild Empire, he tried to erase those old beliefs. He changed laws, destroyed the old faiths, and reshaped how people saw the cursed children."
She looked out the window again, watching the mist rise off the dark hills. "People began to change. Slowly. When you were chosen as the Hero, they saw red eyes not as a curse, but as a divine mark. But the old monarchy and the older generation… they never truly accepted it."
Her voice dropped lower, soft and wistful. "I remember when we first met," she said with a faint smile. "I was drawn to your eyes. Maybe you never noticed it — the way they glimmered when they caught the light. There's a golden tint in them that no one else has. It's beautiful."
Her fingertips brushed against his eyelid, just for a moment — a touch more tender than she intended. Then she pulled back quickly, cheeks warm with color.
"Reinhardt used both you and Iris to change the people's perception," she continued, her tone regaining composure. "I didn't agree with everything he did — there were things I hated about his methods — but I can't deny that he succeeded. People began to see cursed children as humans again. They even began to honor them."
A soft smile tugged at her lips. "That's why House Delcra accepted you as their new lord. You became the symbol of hope, not fear."
Her gaze softened as she studied him. "But your story, Kael… it never spoke about your life before the palace. Not even in the archives. It was as if someone erased everything about who you were before the prophecy."
She paused for a moment, then leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle again. "If you really want to know the truth," she said, "why not write to Reinhardt? Ask him directly. He can't deny you anything, Kael — not if you ask him yourself."
Her tone carried a faint teasing note at the end, a soft playfulness breaking through her seriousness. She knew one of Reinhardt's greatest weaknesses — Kael himself.
Kael said nothing. His eyes lowered to the bracelet on his wrist — the simple black braided cord with the crimson metallic bead glinting faintly in the moonlight. A quiet gift from Reinhardt, worn through time.
He traced his thumb over it slowly. Even without words, even with all the distance between them, he could feel the weight of that bond — trust, guilt, and something like brotherhood woven into a single thread.
Though Reinhardt often hid behind duty and power, Kael somehow believed that man had never once stopped protecting him.
The carriage rattled softly over uneven ground. Elric leaned back, watching him in silence — his eyes lowered, his hand still resting over the bracelet. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Only the sound of the night wind filled the space between them.
And under that dim moonlight, Kael's expression softened — not quite peaceful, but steady, as though the fragments of his lost self were beginning to fall into place.