The sun was barely rising on the horizon, casting a golden light over the village rooftops. The birds sang timidly, unaware of the silent storm rumbling in Aria's heart.
She had walked all night, clutching the box of forgotten precious plants to her chest like a fragile armor. Her steps were uncertain, her mind still lost in the clearing — where he had appeared.
Him.
The king of shadows.
She returned home, hair disheveled, cheeks pale. She closed the door softly, climbed the stairs in silence, and slipped into her room. No one had seen her return.
But Aria found no sleep. Lying on her bed, she stared at the wooden ceiling. Her heart still beat too fast. Her lips trembled.
She kept seeing his face, that gaze as harsh as it was beautiful, that anger masking something else — an ancient pain. An infinite solitude.
A cursed king.
A man chained by night.
---
A few hours later, her grandmother gently opened the door.
— Aria? You didn't sleep?
The young girl sat up, forcing a smile.
— A little. I'm just... a bit tired.
Roy entered right after, carrying a wooden basket.
— You weren't in bed this morning. Did you go fetch the forgotten plants? We looked for you, stupidly… I almost thought you'd wandered into the forest again...
She nodded, lowering her eyes.
— I… I forgot them last night. So I wanted to make up for my mistake.
— In the middle of the night? Roy growled. And what if something had happened to you?
The grandmother raised a hand, gentle but firm.
— Roy… not this morning.
He sighed, crossed his arms, but didn't insist.
— Just… promise you won't go out alone at night again. Promise me, Aria.
She opened her mouth, hesitated… Then looked down.
— I promise.
But in the secret of her heart, she already knew something had changed.
She couldn't ignore what she had seen.
Nor what she had felt.
---
Days passed.
Aria regained her usual calm. She helped her grandmother dry herbs, laughed with Roy, played with the village children, cooked for the elders.
But every evening, when the sun dipped behind the hills, her thoughts returned to him.
She still heard his words like echoes in the night:
> You draw near… despite the flames,
Toward the mystery where souls gleam...
She didn't know why. She didn't understand it yet. But deep within, she felt she couldn't leave it there. That some invisible force — a silent thread — had tied her to that being of shadow and sorrow.
She had seen more than a monster.
She had seen a scar.
And something… something glowed faintly there, within the darkness.