"W-Wait, Razan! Where are you going?" Haeryn called out, her voice breaking slightly as she hurried after him, weaving through the dispersing crowd of Eshari.
Her steps echoed faintly against the marble, but Razan was already a few paces ahead, moving with purpose.
"To live," he replied simply, adjusting the strap of one of the heavy bags on his shoulder.
He turned his head just enough for her to see his calm, serious expression.
"It's been good, Haeryn. Thanks for letting me stay at your house. You did me a favor, so we're even now."
Haeryn stopped for a moment, caught off guard by how detached his tone was.
"Even? That's it?" she muttered under her breath.
But Razan didn't slow down.
He took another step forward, his gaze fixed ahead on the sprawling city beyond the ceremonial plaza.
"I can't just leech off someone's benefits because I'm weak," he said, his voice firmer now, carrying over the sound of the crowd.
"That's not me—and it never will be."
Then he continued walking, disappearing little by little into the throng of Eshari and the denizens of Vrynn moving through the grand square.
The air was loud with voices, carts rolling, and nobles shouting orders—
but Haeryn's focus stayed locked on Razan's back.
She clenched her fists and ran forward, reaching out to grab his arm—
but before she could, someone abruptly stepped in her way.
"Hah! Leave that pathetic and worthless F-class monkey," a man's mocking voice rang out.
He was tall, with slick blond hair and a smug grin plastered across his face.
His clothing was rich—fine silks embroidered with golden thread—and his tone dripped with arrogance.
He made a dramatic bow before taking Haeryn's hand without permission, pulling it toward his lips.
"I am Vincent Eskreina, son of a viscount," he announced proudly, his smile confident as he leaned closer. "It's truly fate that brought me to such a radiant beauty as yourself—"
Before he could finish, Haeryn yanked her hand away sharply, taking a step back.
Her face twisted in clear disgust as she wiped her hand against her sleeve.
"Ugh, don't touch me, weirdo," she snapped, glaring at him with a look that could cut through stone.
Vincent blinked in surprise, his smirk faltering as a few nearby Eshari chuckled under their breath at the scene.
His pride was clearly wounded—but Haeryn didn't care.
Her eyes darted past him, back to the crowd where Razan had vanished.
"Razan…" she muttered under her breath, before narrowing her eyes at the noble in front of her.
"Get lost."
"E-Excuse me?" the man stuttered, his expression twisting in disbelief at Haeryn's response.
His pride, bruised and fragile, quickly turned into anger as he straightened his posture and raised his voice.
"Do you hear yourself, Eshari? I am the son of a viscount!"
"Ugh, yeah, and I'm the queen of nowhere," Haeryn muttered under her breath, brushing past him with visible annoyance.
"Get out of my way, I've got places to be."
But as she tried to push through, the man's hand shot out, gripping her arm tightly.
His smug face had now twisted into one of fury and entitlement.
"Damned bitch," he hissed, his voice laced with venom.
"I was trying to be nice here, and this is how you treat me?" His fingers dug into her arm, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Do you even know who I am? I own a part of these lands! I—"
"Release her at once, swine."
The commanding voice cut through the noise like a blade through silk.
Everyone nearby turned to see who had spoken.
From the crowd emerged a group of elven soldiers, their armor shining faintly under the red-tinged sky.
They moved with precision, forming a loose circle around the scene.
And at their center walked a tall, regal figure with dark yellow hair, a nd a crown atop of it—
Prince Eredyn.
His expression was calm, almost unreadable, but his golden eyes burned with quiet authority.
He stepped forward slowly, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze locked on the trembling noble.
"A-Ah! The elven pr—" the noble tried to speak, his voice shaking, but Eredyn raised a single hand, silencing him instantly.
"I have seen many of your kind before," the prince said coldly, his tone sharp as steel.
"Men reeking of greed and arrogance, intoxicated by their false sense of power."
He took another step forward, his eyes flicking briefly to the noble's hand still gripping Haeryn's arm.
"And I, the Prince of Idren, personally make sure to weed them out."
The man's face paled.
His hand immediately released Haeryn as if her skin had turned to fire. He stumbled back, his confidence shattering completely under the prince's gaze.
"A-Ah, I see!" he stammered, holding his hands up defensively.
"I-It seems there has been a misunderstanding! This young lady must already be… under your protection, Your Highness! I meant no disrespect, of course!"
He gave a quick, awkward bow, his voice cracking under the pressure, and began backing away hurriedly.
His ornate cloak caught on his heel as he turned to leave, nearly tripping over himself as he scrambled out of sight.
The elven soldiers didn't move—they only parted slightly to let him pass, their silent stares making his exit even more humiliating.
When he was gone, the area quieted again, save for the faint murmur of the crowd still watching.
Prince Eredyn exhaled softly, his gaze shifting to Haeryn.
"You should be more cautious," he said calmly, his tone softening.
"Not all nobles in Vrynn seem to understand the meaning of respect." His tone then became slightly serious, his eyes narrowing.
"But then again," the prince continued, his golden eyes softening as he looked toward the horizon,
"greediness is an aspect present in all species. Even I have my own moments of greed."
Haeryn, unsure how to respond, gave a small, polite bow.
"A-Ah, I see," she said softly before straightening up.
"Thank you, but I should get going. There's this brooding friend of mine I need to—"
"The man who achieved F rank?" Eredyn interrupted, his tone calm but his gaze sharp.
Haeryn froze for a second.
"Y-Yeah… that's him. How did you—?"
"I saw him," the prince replied, lowering his voice slightly.
"And no, you must leave him be—for now at least."
Haeryn frowned, crossing her arms as she tilted her head.
"I'm sorry for the disrespect, but who are you to say that?"
Eredyn gave a faint chuckle, amused by her straightforwardness.
"Throughout hundreds of years," he said,
"I have seen the look of a man yearning for something… more."
He extended his hand as if trying to grasp something unseen, then slowly closed it into a tight fist.
"He might not show it. He might act aloof, indifferent even, but I can tell—he is searching for something beyond what the eyes can see."
Haeryn blinked, caught between curiosity and confusion.
"What do you mean?"
The prince looked at her again, his voice steady and full of quiet wisdom.
"A person like him must find himself—his true self—or he will be consumed chasing what he cannot find in the physical world. Strength, power, pride—those are fleeting. What he seeks lies far deeper."
He paused for a moment before adding, in a tone almost like a prayer,
"Isen ein Kiran Hrakt—their true self is the mirror of their soul. And that is something no one can hand to him. He must find it on his own. He must find his own soul."
Haeryn stood still, her lips slightly parted.
The way he spoke, calm yet resolute, carried the weight of someone who had lived long enough to see countless rises and falls.
For a moment, she didn't know what to say.
"But… what will he do?" she finally asked, worry evident in her voice.
"He has no allies here. Nobody will be willing to help him."
"Preposterous," the prince said quickly, his tone shifting back to confidence.
"Life is as limitless as the encounters it brings. If he truly seeks strength, he will not walk alone. The paths of those with purpose always cross with those who are meant to guide them."
Haeryn gave a small sigh, her shoulders lowering slightly.
"Well… he did turn me down just earlier," she mumbled, almost to herself.
Eredyn's lips curved into a faint smile.
"I am sure you and he will meet again, when the time is right—when he has finally found what he is looking for."
He tilted his head slightly. "All you need to do, human, is wait."
Haeryn didn't respond immediately.
Instead, she looked down at her hands, feeling the faint echo of his words settle deep within her chest.
For the first time, she began to see Razan differently—not as some cold, distant man, but as someone quietly struggling with something greater than himself.
Underneath all that calmness and stubborn pride… was yearning.