One day had passed since the King had been stabbed.
The sun rose again, yet this time, Luther — who would watch the sunrise every single day — stood behind the curtains.
In the stone corridors, the only sound was the tired footsteps of the soldiers on duty.
King Luther opened his eyes in his bed, pale light falling upon him.
Luther: "Welcome, Varin… as you can see, I am not in good condition."
Varin approached with quiet steps.
Varin: "Do not worry, my King. You will recover. What would the people do without you?"
Luther: "Hah… I do not know what they would do without me, but this is how things turned out with me still here."
Varin: "Do not worry, Majesty. Surely the one who did this was a madman, right?"
Luther: "Let us hope so. Still, considering every possibility will be best."
Varin: "Of course, Majesty. I will investigate. You just rest."
Luther took a deep breath, turning his gaze to the ceiling.
Luther: "Go now, Varin. I will rest a little… Or perhaps my thoughts will keep me from resting."
Varin bowed his head and quietly left the room.When the door closed, the King remained alone, staring at the ceiling for minutes.
The air was still; the scent of incense clung to the stone walls.
He turned to the guard next to him.
Varin: "Find Commander Saren Vael. I need to speak with her immediately. Make sure she comes quietly."
The guard bowed and walked away.
As Varin walked, the stone walls looked pale under the morning light.
Turning a corner, he heard two familiar voices — one young and harsh, the other calmer.
Varin slowed his steps and approached.
He stopped behind the corner and listened.
The voices were clear now.
At the end of the stone corridor, two shadows faced each other; one paced impatiently, the other stood calm and straight.
Nedved: "How can you even think about his life?! He should be torn to pieces! That bastard tried to kill our father!"
Holf: "Even if you are right, brother, do not forget we sit here for the people. It will not be the palace that decides — the judgment will."
Varin waited silently in the shadows; he neither intervened nor left.
Even the stone walls of the palace seemed to listen to the hatred between the two princes.
At that moment, footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.
Soft steps — a familiar tone.
Queen Mirane: "Enough."
Both brothers fell silent at once.
The Queen approached quietly and stood between them.
Her gaze was cold, yet her voice held both command and compassion.
Queen Mirane: "Neither anger nor blood can decide this. Justice will handle it."
Nedved bowed his head; Holf stepped back quietly.
The Queen looked at them briefly, then turned away.
Only silence followed her; nothing more was left to say.
Varin bowed slightly with respect and stepped back.
After she left, the corridor fell into silence again.
Varin continued listening to the heartbeat of the palace, stopping at each faint whisper.
Turning another corner, a guard appeared.
Guard: "Commander Saren Vael has arrived, sir. She is waiting in your room."
Varin nodded quietly and continued.
When he reached his chamber door, it was slightly open.
He pushed it and saw Saren Vael inside.
The room was simple; the window open, the curtain swaying gently.
Saren stood in front of the window, wearing a plain dark tunic.
Silence lasted for a few seconds.
Then Varin closed the door and stepped inside.
Varin: "I will ask something of you — for our King."
Saren turned her head, her expression unchanged.
Saren: "What is it?"
Varin: "The young one who attempted the assassination. He will be interrogated before the trial. You must interrogate him."
Saren bowed her head silently.
Saren: "Understood."
Without saying anything else, she left.
Varin turned to the window and watched outside for a while.
Soldiers lined up quietly in the courtyard.
By the time Saren Vael left the palace, morning had already given way to noon.
The city was crowded.But silent.No laughter, no shouting.
Even the echo of footsteps on the stone streets carried uneasiness.
Two men whispered in front of a bakery.
"They say the King didn't die."
"He didn't, but… they say he won't return the same."
As Saren walked, she felt her shadow watched by every door and every window, and she quickened her steps.
Soon, the whispers of the streets gave way to the echo of stone walls.
She stopped in front of the iron gate of the dungeon —
and the silence gave way to the cold breath of interrogation.
The dungeon was cold.
Moisture dripping from the stone walls turned to mist in Saren's breath.
The iron door creaked open.Inside — a table, a chair, nothing else.
The young elf sat in chains.
His eyes were red — not from fear, but from sleeplessness.
Saren stood before the table.
Saren: "Your name is the Elrien from Lumenor Forest. Why did you try to kill my King?"
The young elf laughed without raising his head.
Young Elf: "Kill a King? Me? Your King was already dead. I only delivered the final blow."
Saren's jaw tensed.
She stepped forward and slammed her fist onto the table; the sound echoed harshly inside the dungeon.
Saren: "The King still lives."
The young elf slightly turned his head, speaking in a careless tone.
Young Elf: "Then why are you here, soldier?"
Saren sat silently.
Hours passed.
Questions were asked; answers came only as silence or mocking smiles.
The young elf toyed with his chains, sometimes looking at the ceiling, sometimes just breathing slowly.
Finally, Saren stood.
Saren: "Enough. It seems kind words will not work on you."
She opened the door and walked out without another word.
At the end of the corridor, a silhouette appeared.
Saren slowed her steps when she recognized who it was.
Edrin Fal leaned against the wall, waiting.
Edrin: "Was the air in the dungeon too heavy for you, short girl?"
Saren frowned.
Saren: "I will deliver my report later, Commander."
Edrin smiled slightly, tilting his head.
Edrin: "You earned rank, but patience still has growing to do."
Saren saluted and walked away with quiet steps.
Edrin watched her go.
Youth moved fast.Wisdom waited.
Edrin Fal, general of the Sun Empire, known for his silence in battle and his words in the court, now walked into the dungeon.
A guard bowed as the iron door opened, letting the damp air hit his face.
Edrin stepped inside for the interrogation.
The iron door closed behind him, echoing for long seconds.
The dungeon air was humid; the smell rising from the stone walls felt like the death of earth.
The young elf sat in chains in the center of the room.
His pale face remained in shadow, his breath short and uneven.
Edrin approached in silence.
When he sat, his face held neither anger nor mercy — only that familiar stillness.
Edrin: "Why did you do it?"
Without lifting his head, the young elf spoke.
Young Elf: "Stop asking. I will not speak."
Edrin leaned back with certainty.
Edrin: "You will."
The young elf's lips trembled, voice rising with strain.
Young Elf: "I do not speak to nobles. They never listen to us. I will speak only to the King."
Edrin stayed silent for a moment. Then slowly lifted his head. His voice was soft but heavy.
Edrin: "You do not speak to nobles, you say… Then I shall disappoint you, child."
He stood, taking a few slow steps — each movement measured, each breath controlled.
Edrin: "I am no noble. I come from the soil — just like you."
The young elf's eyes widened as he lifted his head.
But Edrin no longer looked at him — his gaze drifted beyond the stone walls, into memory.
Time shifted.
The smell of damp stone vanished, replaced by dust and sunlight.
A forgotten morning in the outskirts.
Wooden houses. Mud roads.Bears, bandits, corrupt guards — Edrin fought them all.
A crowd gathered, voices tense with anger and hunger.
A rider arrived:
"King Luther is coming!"
Then Luther appeared — young, firm, fearless.
Edrin planted his spear into the earth.
Edrin: "If you listen to us, my King, you will find no enemy here — only your people."
And Luther had listened.
Food arrived.Workers arrived.Healers arrived.
Justice arrived before swords.
From that day, Edrin became the voice of the forgotten.
Years passed.
Wars came.
When Commander Thalrien Aerath died, only Varin and Edrin remained at Luther's side.
Edrin became general — but inside, he always remained the same:a soldier who preferred understanding over bloodshed.
The memory faded.
The dungeon returned.
Edrin and the young elf stared at each other in silence.
Finally, Edrin stood.
Edrin: "You will pay for what you have done. But… may your end find heaven."
The young elf raised his head, chains rattling.
No fear — only a tired spark of defiance.
Young Elf: "Heaven?If an elf ends up in heaven, it means he wasted his life."
Edrin did not respond.
For a moment, he heard the same wind of rebellion he once felt as a young soldier.
What they spoke about there remained between the two of them.
But he only took his helmet, turned, and walked out.
The iron door closed behind him.
A horn sounded outside.
Edrin mounted his horse and rode toward Lumenor Forest with his soldiers.
Palace — Midnight
Luther had returned to his throne; his wounds still ached.
The palace was so silent that even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
The door opened.
Seer Ton Kollster entered, wearing a simple robe, holding his familiar empty chalice.
His voice echoed softly.
Ton: "One does not need to be a prophet to know why I am here, my King.But hear this: the divine does not show all — and what it shows may not please you."
Luther's voice was clear like steel, yet tired.
Luther: "I do not seek comfort, Ton.Only an answer.Has the last page of my story been written?Or has even fate fallen silent?"
Ton lowered his head, turning the empty chalice in his hands.
Ton: "Perhaps fate is silent, but its echo still lingers.The Sun Age draws its final breath, Majesty.A new era approaches.Whether you will stand at its dawn… I cannot see."
Luther's gaze hardened.
Luther: "A new era… Will it begin with blood?I will not see elves raise swords against elves.That will not be my age — but betrayal's."
Ton looked into the emptiness of his chalice.
Ton: "You are mistaken, Majesty.This will not begin with swords — but with silence.Silences heavy enough to drown empires.Let us wait — time will speak.I shall return when the shadows whisper."
Ton departed.
Luther returned to his bed.
Lumenor Forest
Edrin reached the edge of the forest.
The wind stopped.
Dust rose under the horses' hooves.Leaves shriveled.Tree bark turned gray.
The forest was dying.
Edrin's soldiers looked at him, fear in their eyes.
Edrin tightened the reins.
Edrin: "We continue."
Unaware of what lay ahead, Edrin continued to ride his horse deep into the Lumenor Forest. Like all the soldiers who sensed the ominous atmosphere in the forest, he too thought this barrenness could spell disaster for the Lumenor Forests...
End of Chapter