The wheels of the royal gilded carriage rolled over the cobblestone streets with a gentle jolt, softened by suspension magic. However, the further they moved eastward, the rougher the roads felt.

  Mira sat inside the luxurious carriage, facing Lady Iva. Next to Mira, Princess Elodie sat upright, staring out the window with a blank, unblinking gaze. Prince Arlen rode a black horse beside the carriage, leading the small procession valiantly, as if they were heading out on a deer hunt, not towards a disaster site.

  "The smell..." Iva whispered, covering her nose with a lace handkerchief. "It’s a strange smell. Not a rotten smell, but... like the air after a storm, only a hundred times stronger."

  Mira did not cover her nose. She inhaled the scent deeply. It was the smell of ozone. The smell of ionized air. And beneath it, there was a faint scent of evaporating metal. It was the lingering 'breath' of Kars.

  "We're here," Arlen's voice sounded from outside.

  The train stopped. The door was opened by the attendant. Mira stepped down first. Her feet landed on the ground no longer covered in snow, but fine dry grey dust.

  She looked up. And her world stopped spinning for a moment.

  King's Cliff, which usually stood as a magnificent landmark in the east of Everiven, had changed shape. The cliff jutting into the sea... was gone. Not collapsed. Not shattered into pieces. But vanished as if an invisible giant spoon had scooped away half of the cliff, leaving a half-circle hollow whose surface was smooth like polished glass.

  The seven legendary Northern King Statues are now numbered only five. The Fourth and Fifth Kings had left no ruins. They had been erased from existence, leaving only fragments of their legs up to the ankles, perfectly flat on the surface.

  "What is this..." Iva muttered, her face deathly pale. She stepped back, hiding behind the guards' backs.

  Mira stood frozen. Her hands were at her sides, clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms beneath her white lace gloves. Arlene, standing behind Mira as her attendant, placed a hand on Mira's back as if to help, but in reality, she was giving a warning pressure: Don't cry. Don't react.

  Prince Arlen dismounted from his horse. He walked towards the edge of the crater with long strides, his blue cloak fluttering in the strong sea breeze. His face did not look like someone who understood what was happening. His expression was a mix of confusion, awe, and fear hidden behind arrogance.

  “Amazing,” Arlen murmured. He crouched down, touching the smooth, shiny ground at the edge of the crater. “The soil has crystallized. What kind of heat can do this without burning the surrounding forest?”

  Arlen turned to his personal guard, a Captain in golden armor. “You said the palace sorcerers didn’t detect a fire spell?”

  "That's right, Your Highness," the captain answered nervously. "No traces of fire element. No residue from gunpowder explosions. The seismograph recorded tremors, but... there's no clear source."

  Arlen stood, brushing dust off his gloves. His electric blue eyes scanned the empty crater with frustration. "Someone attacked my territory. Someone with this kind of power entered Asnaven, blew up a historical monument, and left without a trace. And you say you don't know who it was?"

  Arlen's voice rose, sparking static that made Iva's hair stand on end. "Does this have anything to do with Angborg?"

  Elodie, who had been silent until now, finally stepped forward. Her movements were stiff, but her face remained perfectly controlled. "Not Angborg," Elodie said flatly. "From the information I've gathered, the Angborg raiders have crude technology. Their explosions are messy, full of smoke and debris. This... this is clean. Too clean."

  Arlen looked at Elodie, then nodded in agreement. "You're right. This is surgical, not purge.”

  Arlen walked closer to Mira. "What do you think, Rhea? You have sharp eyes. What do you see?"

  It was another test. Mira swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. She walked slowly toward the edge of the cliff. The sea wind slapped her face, carrying a familiar salty scent. She looked down at the sea churning hundreds of meters below. No bodies. No black cloak.

  "I see... emptiness, Your Highness," Mira replied softly. "Whoever did this, they don't want to leave a trace. They don't want to show off. They want to erase something."

  "Erase what?" Arlen pressed.

  "A mistake, perhaps?" Mira turned to look at Arlen. Her amber eyes dim. "Or evidence."

  Arlen furrowed his brows. He looked upset. The fact that there was a power out there that could do this without his knowledge hurt his huge ego. He felt threatened. "Whoever they are," Arlen hissed, his hands clenched until blue sparks appeared. "They dare challenge me. They think they can come to my courtyard and show off their power? I will hunt them down. I will find the source of this power and destroy it."

  Mira lowered her head. You are standing in front of Kars' student, Arlen. And you know nothing.

  "Let's have lunch," Arlen said suddenly, drastically changing the mood. A psychological defense mechanism; when he couldn't solve a problem, he ignored it and regained control. "The view might be ruined, but the air is fresh."

  The servants, including Arlene, began spreading out picnic blankets on the still-green grass, a few meters from the edge of the death crater.

  ***

  That picnic was the definition of absurdity. They sat on a silk carpet, drinking the finest wine from slender glasses, and eating exotic fruits, while five meters in front of them was a crater from a sub-atomic explosion.

  Iva couldn’t eat. She kept glancing at the crater in horror. “Is… is it safe here?” she asked, trembling. “What if the culprit comes back?”

  “Let them come back,” Arlen said, cutting his chicken aggressively. “I actually hope they come back. I want to see the face of the person brave enough to touch what’s mine.”

  Arlen turned to Elodie. “You’re pale, Princess. Is the air too cold?”

  Elodie was staring at a blank spot in the air—a spot where she saw Kars standing, bracing against the wind. Her hand held a fork, but it didn’t move. "I was just... thinking," Elodie replied softly, snapping out of her reverie. "How fragile stone is. We build statues for eternity, but in a single second... they turn to dust."

  "That’s why we need a living power, not dead stone," Arlen looked at Mira. "A power that can adapt. Like a storm. Or fire."

  Mira chewed her grapes slowly. They tasted bland. She felt something calling her. Not a voice, but a pull. A resonance. The stars within her—V’nyr and Er’ryn—quivered gently. There was residual energy from Kars left behind. Not in the crater. But at the edge of the cliff.

  "Forgive me, Your Highness," Mira set down her glass. "May I take a short walk? My legs are cramped from sitting."

  "Don’t go too far," Arlen permitted, more interested in their second bottle of wine. "And don’t fall into the sea."

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Mira stood up. She walked away from the picnic blanket, along the edge of the crater. Arlene followed at a polite distance, making sure no guards were too close.

  Mira walked toward the remains of the Third King's Statue's feet. There stood Kars. Mira knelt, pretending to examine the wildflowers growing between the rocks. Her hand felt the soil. The dust here felt strange. Slippery. Electrically charged.

  Mira's fingers touched something hard and cold beneath the gray dust. Not stone. Metal. Mira's heart raced. She glanced back. Arlen was laughing at his own joke, and Iva was laughing politely out of obligation. No one was watching.

  Mira quickly dug out the object. It was a small rectangular metal box. A classic-style silver lighter. Its surface charred and dented, but the engraved initials were still faintly legible: K.V.

  Kars. And Mira didn’t know what the V in that initial stood for.

  Mira held her breath. Hot tears threatened to spill, but she held them back with all her strength. This object is here. It’s physical proof that he was here.

  But then Mira realized something. This lighter... hasn’t melted. The ground around it has crystallized. The stone statues have vaporized. But this small silver lighter is intact, just dented? How is that possible?

  Unless... unless this lighter fell after the explosion. Or, this lighter is protected.

  Mira opened the lid of the lighter. There was still something inside. And tucked in between the gaps of the lighter's wheel was a super tiny piece of paper—a tightly rolled cigarette paper.

  Mira didn’t open it there. It was too risky. She gripped the lighter tightly, channeling the coldness of the metal into her burning heart. She opened her dimension pocket slightly, then put the lighter in there.

  "Did you find something, Rhea?"

  Arlen's voice came from right behind her. Mira flinched. She hadn’t heard the prince’s footsteps. She was too focused.

  Mira spun around quickly, letting her dimension pocket close on its own, hiding her hands behind the folds of her dress. Her face was pale. "Just... this flower, Your Highness," Mira pointed to a small purple flower growing alone in the middle of the ashes. "It survived. Alone."

  Arlen looked at the flower, then at Mira. He didn’t see Mira’s hidden hands. He saw the sad expression on her face and interpreted it as feminine fear.

  "A tough flower," Arlen said, crushing the flower with his boot. Reducing it to nothing.

  Mira's eyes widened. "Why?"

  "Because it grew in the wrong place," Arlen said coldly. "This land is mine. And I don’t like things growing without my permission."

  Arlen grabbed Mira's free arm. “We're going back. This place makes me sick. There are no answers here, only questions that give you a headache.”

  Arlen dragged Mira back to the carriage. Mira obeyed. But in her heart, she held a small victory. She had the answer. Kars had left something. He didn't just explode. He left a message.

  ***

  The atmosphere inside the carriage was far gloomier. Arlen was no longer riding. He sat in the carriage with the three women, making the space feel cramped with his ego.

  "I will increase patrols," Arlen murmured, speaking more to himself. "And I will hasten the Solstice ritual. I need full power. If enemies like this are out there, I can't just rely on ordinary lightning."

  Arlen's eyes glanced at Mira. A hungry look. "Rhea, Elodie, Iva. You must prepare. New Year's Eve is not just a dance party. It is the night when Asnaven's fate is decided."

  "What do we need to prepare, Your Highness?" chirped Iva.

  "Your souls," Arlen replied curtly. "And absolute loyalty."

  Mira stared out the window. The sun was beginning to set, turning the sky into the color of blood. Her hands, hidden behind the sleeves of her dress, kept stroking the surface of her igniter bracelet; she couldn't wait to take that lighter again.

  You're still alive, right, Kars? Mira thought to herself. Or at least, you died with a plan.

  ***

  Night. Sun Tower.

  Mira locked the door. Arlene immediately checked the windows and vents, making sure there were no new listening tools or magics.

  "Did you find something?" Arlene asked.

  Mira pulled out the dented lighter. "Kars' lighter. Found at Ground Zero."

  Arlene froze. She recognized the item. Kars always played with it when nervous. "Open it."

  Mira took out a tiny rolled cigarette paper from the gap in the lighter’s wheel. She carefully unrolled it using tweezers, as the paper was fragile. The writing was very small, written in charcoal or compressed dust. Hasty handwriting.

  Re:Kala Kaosser. 125:V. 2:M. TIE.

  "What does this mean?" Mira asked.

  Arlene immediately approached Mira, reading carefully to understand the meaning of the message.

  "Re:Kala Kaosser… I don't understand." Arlene slid her finger to another word. "125:V," Arlene murmured, her eyes scanning the writing clearly, noticing two horizontal lines beneath the word; the pattern was the same as the titles in the books Kars often read.

  Arlene opened her dimension pocket, taking out a dark blue book that had become worn from dust. “Impakta. This book only has 98 pages.”

  “Isn't Impakta an ancient literary work? Is that relevant?” Mira raised an eyebrow, her eyes still fixed on the message she was holding.

  “Kars often reads this,” Arlene said, carefully flipping through each page, afraid that the fragile paper would tear. “125:V. V in ancient literature is often interpreted as a branch.”

  “And?”

  “Let's assume 125 is a page number. But since this book only has 98 pages…” Arlene stopped at a page that consisted of just one paragraph in the middle. “…we split it in two, just like the meaning of V itself. 12 and 25. 2 becomes the center. Do you know the meaning of this paragraph? You have a translation rune, right?”

  Mira looked at page 12, letting her brain process every word. “A new land is born. Not from blood, but from the ashes of destruction. Beads of eternity are reluctant to settle upon it. Faces of victory are unwilling to complete it. Those false faces will vanish in the end.” Mira stared at Arlene, her expression full of questions. “What does that mean?”

  “I can’t be sure. But I have a theory, a famous theory from Fasheart,” Arlene said quietly.

  “What is it?”

  “The royal family now is fake,” Arlene whispered, doing her best to make sure no one could hear, not even mosquitoes were an exception. “It’s very similar, it’s connected.”

  Mira nodded. “Move to page 25.”

  Page 25 features a long paragraph that fills an entire book. Mira's eyes widened; she knew the writing. It was the same writing she had also heard in the last dream.

  "When the Horizon folds like parchment, and the Rust returns to iron. The Stranger shall arrive. They walk the path that has no distance, and dwell in the moment that never ends. To them, the miles are but a thought, and the centuries but a single blink. The weaver of the Gap. The anchor of the Flow. The Here is There. The Then is Now. And When the Chaos spills and the Void screams, The Silent Pillar shall rise. It stands as the Anchor in the drifting tide, the weight that holds the world from breaking apart. In its shadow, the trembling earth finds its rest. And the Weaver shall follow. They hold the Golden Thread that mends the severed sky. Not to command, but to connect. Turning the many fragments into a single mosaic. Where there is discord, they bring the Chorus,” Mira replied clearly while mimicking the same tone she had during that dream.

  Mira winced; she had forgotten to talk about that dream to Kars. "Do you know what it means?" Mira asked Arlene.

  Arlene shook her head. "It's too... confusing." Arlene's eyes stopped at the end of the page, where there was italicized writing in a different font. It was modern writing. "Look at this... this isn't ancient script."

  "Bring back those hills, gather them until you can collapse a continent. 45.89. -12.04," said Mira, reading the writing.

  Arlene immediately grabbed a map from the drawer. She drew a line. "45.89... -12.04..." Arlene's finger stopped at a point in the middle of the ocean. Far off the eastern coast. "That's in the middle of the sea. There's no island there. Just a trench."

  "Just a trench?"

  "Yes. The deepest spot in that ocean."

  Mira stared at the next words. "What does 2:M? TIE mean?"

  "I don't know," Arlene said honestly. She looked at Mira. "If Kars left this... it means this is not a trivial matter, and he wouldn't die without resolving all issues. He must be alive, whatever this is about. I'm sure he's still alive. And this message… this message is a task he left for us."

  "To the ocean trench?"

  "Or somewhere out there."

  Mira clenched the paper. Kars was alive. Trapped, missing, or dying, but he existed. And he left a breadcrumb trail for himself.

  "I have to go there," Mira said.

  "No," Arlene cut in. "That's too fast. Let's handle it one by one. You stay in the palace, go to the archive room or the library or anywhere that holds important information, and find out everything related to page 12."

  "Why me?"

  "Approach him as if you like him. I will go to Fasheart to look for the truth about the theory or rumor we discussed earlier. We will meet again when the New Year comes," Arlene ordered.

  "You're going to leave me here alone?" Mira asked in a quiet but very panicked tone.

  "No. There will be a servant I sent. Her name is Anna. Say 'The eastern sky is too bright today' when you meet her for the first time. If she’s the right person, she will respond, 'Only because the falling star forgot how to fade,' while bowing."

  "We have to succeed," Mira said firmly. "We have to succeed before The Second Domain."

  Arlene nodded. "Let's take care of things on land first. We'll destroy Arlen. We'll take over its resources. Then we'll use the kingdom's fleet to search for Kars."

  "You're talking as if we're going to overthrow the kingdom."

  "And you come from the second-ranked family in this kingdom. That still counts."

  "I still have land I need to claim."

  Arlene grinned. "Wouldn't it be easier if you had an army?"

  Mira fell silent. Her mind agreed with the notion. Her eyes lit up again with the sharp fire of Amber. The sorrow in her heart evaporated, replaced by a clear purpose.

  After Arlene left, Mira blew out the candle. Darkness enveloped the room, but this time, the darkness felt like an ally, not a prison.