Mars pulled off his glasses and pinched his nose bridge. His brows furrowed and eyes closed.
10:00 p.m.
The glow of his monitor painted deep shadows beneath his tired eyes.
"Who even writes these articles?" His voice exhausted. He leaned baack in his chair with a sigh.
He rubbed his face so hard that his cheeks turned red. Another sigh. And another dead end.
For months? No, years. He had been researching about the colossal cliff. The cliff that separates the Western and Northern region of Amarias.
But what did he find?
Nothing.
Not a single reliable record.
Amarias, a small town split into four regions by two wide rivers. North. West. East. South. Which was once ruled by four emperors. And thus there were four castles.
Northern Castle - The Silver Thaw
Eastern Castle - Elanore Palace
Southern Castle - Mirewood Castle
Western Castle - Eldershore Fort
Today, however, they stood united, connected by massive bridges and underground tunnels.
The cliff, though...
It was as if the history had forgotten about it.
"What happened after that?" Mars whispered while scrolling through another article about the North Castle.
No result.
Again.
His fingers tapped impatiently against the keyboard.
"I should really get some sleep."
His gaze drifted toward the alarm clock on his desk.
10:17 p.m.
"...Maybe one more article."
One became five.
Five became ten.
Hours slipped way unnoticed.
Thankfully, tomorrow was Sunday.
Even better, it was his last free day before starting his new job.
The memory made him pause.
A week ago, the dean of his ex college had called out of nowhere.
"Mars, one of our literature professors fell ill. Would you be willing to cover a few classes?"
Mars had accepted almost immedieately.
Looking back, even he found that strange.
Most of his work involved research, archives, and long hours behind a desk. Standing in front of a classroom wasn't exactly his speciality.
"It'll be wonderful to have you back, Mars. Thank you."
His alma mater.
West College of Arts and Music.
The place where he had earned his degree... and where his obsession with history had truly began.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Maybe this is a good opportunity. He thought.
The college library was one of the oldest in the region.
If that wasn't enough...
"I can always bribe a student with extra credits to dig through dusty records for me."
He chuckled to himself.
The sound echoed through the silent house.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Mars jolted awake.
His neck screamed in protest.
He had fallen asleep at his desk. Again.
"Seriously..."
Groaning, he stretched until his back popped, then reached for the glass lying beside the keyboard.
Sunday passed exactly as Sunday always did.
Slowly.
Painfully.
He spent most of the day sprawled across the couch in his private home theatre, letting one movie after another play without really watching them.
His house was enormous, built in an old aristrocatic style that practically screamed inherited wealth.
Yet despite its size...
Only one person lived there.
The silence was almost oppressive.
He sighed and kept the popcorn aside standing up with a stretch. He turned the t.v off.
As he climbed the staircase to go to his room, his eyes landed on the family portraits decorating the wall.
Childhood.
Graduation.
His parents.
Grandparents.
Pieces of life carefully framed.
But one picture didn't belong.
It was old.
So old that the colours had nearly faded away.
His grandparents had bought it in an auction.
A woman standing in a field of flowers with her back side visible.
She wore an old-fashioned robe, and her long, wavy hair flowed almost to her wasit.
Mars stopped.
As he always did.
"Who are you...?"
There was no name on the painting.
No date.
No explanation.
Just a mysterious woman standing in the midst f sunflower field. And this mystery had haunted him since childhood.
He has searched ancient archives and records.
Nothing.
Perhaps that was why history became his core.
Since school he has been hopelessly drawn toward forgotten civilizations, abandoned ruins, and mysteries no one else cared to solve.
His friends used to laugh and call him a grandpa.
Three years had passed since earning his PhD, yet he still felt like the curious student who had spent nights buried beneath piles of dusty books.
Tomorrow, he'd return to West College.
Not as a student.
As a lecturer.
The thought filled him with an unexpected sense of anticipation.
Who knew?
Maybe this time...
He'd finally find the answer he'd been chasing for years.
Night fell once again.
Mars settled into his chair, adjusted his glasses, and opened another article.
"Alright..."
A determined smile crossed his face.
"Let's try one more time."