The dusty wind of the refugee camp greeted Kael and Euphelia as they arrived. The camp was quieter than usual, with tired bodies resting under makeshift shelters. Tension hung in the air, and the flickering lights did little to warm the heavy silence.
As they neared Carlos's healing tent, Euphelia's eyes fell upon Damon, lying unconscious, his legs wrapped tightly in herbs and cloth. Lina sat beside him, holding his hand tightly, her head resting gently on the side of the bed.
Euphelia's chest tightened at the sight. She slowly walked in, knelt beside Damon, and gently stroked his hair. "You'll be fine," she whispered, her voice tender. "I promise."
Leaving the siblings, she stepped outside to find Kael talking to Russell and Carlos.
"It's him. Roland Vordellan," Kael said firmly. "He's the one Damon beat in the trial. That noble and his friends… they did this."
Russell's brows furrowed. "That's a strong accusation. But words won't move the council, Kael. You need proof. Especially if you want the king to act."
Carlos nodded thoughtfully. "There's a way… a Dryade healer might be able to detect prana remnants—traces of the energy used in the attack. It could identify who was responsible."
Kael's hands clenched. "Where can we find one?"
"They're rare, but not impossible to locate," Carlos replied. "And they won't come cheap."
Euphelia stepped forward from the shadows. "I'll find one."
Russell looked at her. "That's not an easy task, especially for someone from the Hearthshade."
"I know where to look," she said quietly. "I'll leave now. It's getting late."
Kael gave her a nod of gratitude. Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the night.
—
The moon was high when Euphelia reached the Sylfera estate. The guards barely noticed her in her cloak as she slipped through a servant entrance. Inside, her maid Rose was waiting, arms crossed.
"You can't keep sneaking out like this, Euphelia," Rose said, worried. "If your mother finds out—"
"I know," Euphelia cut in, removing her cloak. "But this was important. Damon… he's hurt. Badly."
Rose's expression softened. "What happened?"
"They attacked him, Rose. Noble brats who couldn't accept losing." Her fists clenched. She was sure Roland was not alone "I need to find a Dryade healer. Tomorrow."
Rose placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then we will. Together."
—
Elsewhere, morning broke through the wide windows of Kaizen's apartment.
He sat up quietly, watching Sylfia sleeping beside him on the couch. Her face was peaceful, soft—so unlike the chaos that swirled through his mind. He wondered… if he loved her, would the world take her too?
He reached out slowly, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled sleepily and held his hand. "Why can't you be like this with me all the time?"
He froze. Then pulled back. "I… need to wash up," he muttered, retreating quickly.
Left behind, Sylfia's smile faded. She rose and waited for him to finish. When he emerged from the washroom, they swapped places.
Later, she joined him on the balcony, where he sat with two steaming cups on the table. She smiled faintly, touched by the quiet gesture, and sat across from him.
"Let's go to the market today," she said cheerfully. "We need more food for the house."
Kaizen nodded silently. He like to see her happy.
Overjoyed, she leaned in and hugged him, then pulled him by the hand toward the door.
—
Far away, within the gilded halls of the Vordellan estate, Roland smirked confidently, unaware that whispers were forming like cracks in a dam.
But as the old saying goes—Lies don't stay buried for long.
And his truth was about to come crashing down.