Five years had passed.
The village was no longer the same. The walls had more color, the faces were softer, and the voices less fearful at night. Aria, too, had grown. Her figure now bore the grace of a young woman, yet her eyes still held that luminous gentleness that made her unique.
Roy and his grandmother had left for a few days to a nearby village, and Aria, alone, had resumed her daily routine.
That day, she wandered deeper than usual into the forest.
Her fingers picked wildflowers — pale lilies, mauve peonies, and woodland roses for the old lady.
But as she walked, time slipped away unnoticed.
The shadows lengthened. The light faded. A chill ran down her spine.
Then, at the bend of a path buried under autumn leaves, she saw it.
A castle.
Majestic, ancient — as if torn from a forgotten tale.
Its towers reached toward the clouds. Ivy embraced its grey stones, and crows circled slowly above its turrets.
Aria froze.
A faint melody, barely audible, seemed to drift from within the walls.
Something... a call… or a warning?
The sky darkened. Aria turned back hurriedly, basket in hand, but already the bats were out — black shapes gliding around the rising blood-red moon.
Heart pounding, she ran, her skirts catching on branches, her boots slipping on fallen leaves.
Then she stumbled.
A misplaced stone, a stifled cry, a jolt.
She pitched forward, her basket burst open, and the flowers scattered. Her knee struck the earth.
And in the chaos, she collided with a man.
But he did not fall. He dodged.
He straightened, a tall figure wrapped in a black cloak.
He turned away, ready to vanish.
Aria, her hands trembling, caught his wrist.
"Who are you?!" she cried.
She hadn't thought — instinct had spoken. Her voice carried fear, but also a distant echo… like a forgotten memory.
The man froze. Then, slowly, he turned.
His red eyes pierced through her.
"Let go of me." His voice was icy, sharp.
"Filthy human... how dare you touch me?"
He stepped closer, and with a voice like a curse, he murmured:
> "You've heard nothing…
Behind my walls, a breath rises…
A burning wind… a pain without end…"
His voice trembled with fury, but beneath it… something else.
An ancient despair. A sorrow frozen in time.
He turned to leave.
But Aria, without knowing why, caught the edge of his cloak.
The fabric slipped through her fingers.
His hood fell.
And then she saw him.
---
The face of the King.
Not a monster.
A man.
A man with inhuman beauty, his features perfect, almost unreal. His pale skin caught the dying light of the sky. Dark hair framed eyes as deep and red as dusk.
Aria stood motionless, her eyes locked on his, mesmerized.
The King stared back, surprised by her silence.
He expected a scream, a step back, the usual fear.
But she just stood there, in awe.
And that... unsettled him.
He growled.
Then, with a sharp movement, he pushed her away.
Her heart raced faster, but it was no longer fear.
The King of Shadows spread his vast black wings, and in a gust of wind and silence, he soared into the sky.
---
Aria remained there, alone, the flowers scattered around her.
But something inside her had changed.
She now knew…
> It was not a dream.
He exists.
And he is in pain.