The casualties haven't been disclosed yet, but the number is expected to be large, given the area's density. Neither the ministry nor the Eldrin council has issued a statement. Rescue efforts are ongoing. Many remain trapped beneath the rubble.
"No one came—not the raiders, not the police."
"I saw… a black claw. It dragged my brother away."
"It's the raid rings. They keep pushing into the Void Forest, and the creatures strike us instead. These raids need to stop."
The chatter and cries rose and fell outside of the camp. She sat there like a stone. Her eyes were open but dead. She was breathing but not alive. There were scars and wound lines across her face and arms.
"Rheia…" Elina stepped in. She went straight to her and pulled her close. But Rheia's face was still—nothing. She couldn't even cry.
Elina wrapped her arms around Rheia's shoulders. Slowly, her own face began to tear.
"Let's go home." She wiped her tears and stood up. They both walked out together, leaving the tent behind.
The world outside was different from the calm within. The place was a ruin—half-shattered buildings, smoke hanging low. Some searched through the rubble for hope, while others watched it, losing the same hope. Helicopters and media eyes surrounded the area like vultures.
Everything had happened in a single night. Morvenheir became a place of nothing.
"Mr. Hawkbane, we are leaving," Elina said.
"I am sorry for what happened." Edward looked at her, hearing the shift in her voice. "Reamus will come with you, Elina."
Elina didn't reply.
But Edward's eyes shifted to Rheia—her head lowered, eyes swollen. He couldn't bring himself to say anything to a half-dead girl.
"Reamus." He nodded toward him.
As they walked, several cars pulled in beside the camp. A man stepped out and moved toward the press and media gathered near the barricade.
"Sir, as the president of the Eldrin Council, what is your view on this attack? Was it random—or…?"
"Why couldn't the Eldrin Knights come?"
"Do you still believe the raids shouldn't be banned?"
The questions rose one after another as he approached them, flashes and voices blurring together. Elina and Rheia walked toward the car, leaving their past life—and the noise behind—in the rubble.
--------------------
Veymora River – Old Bridge.
Rheia noticed the signboard through the car window. Beyond it stretched vast plains and distant mountains, the river running quietly beside them. Beautiful and peaceful. The view alone felt like enough to begin healing her.
The car turned toward a house—palatial, with a long front yard and a garden beside it. Tall trees stood around it like walls of green.
"Rheia… this is Mr. Hawkbane's place," Elina said as the car stopped. "You'll be staying here until I return."
Rheia looked up at her.
"Don't be afraid. I'll be back in a week or two," Elina added gently.
Rheia nodded and stepped out of the car.
A breeze swept across the yard, carrying the scent of leaves and soil. It brushed through her hair, soft and warm—like nature itself was trying to comfort her.
"Elina, I must be going then," Reamus said while unloading a few bags.
"Thanks, Reamus."
He shook his head with a faint smile and got back into the car.
The door of the estate swung open. A woman stepped out to greet them, followed by a girl about Rheia's age.
"Rheia, this is Freya, Mr. Hawkbane's wife," Elina began.
Freya welcomed her with a warm smile, her hands folded neatly at her stomach.
Rheia gave a small nod toward her.
"And this is my daughter, Arya," Freya said, gently resting a hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Hai…" Arya greeted back with a bright tone.
Rheia nodded again.
"Come, let's go inside."
Freya placed a hand over Rheia's shoulder and guided her in. Arya and Elina followed close behind, and the maids took the bags and moved swiftly toward the stairs.
"Arya, show Rheia her room," Freya said.
"Come with me," Arya whispered, turning toward the stairs.
Rheia glanced back at Elina one last time. Elina gave a small nod. Taking a slow breath, Rheia followed Arya up the stairs.
"Freya, it will only be for a couple of weeks. I hope it won't be any trouble," Elina said.
"It's okay, Elina. No trouble at all. I can't even imagine such things happening… she's just about Arya's age. Poor girl," Freya said, her eyes glistening.
"I've already had the guest room prepared for her," she added gently.
"Thanks, Freya." Elina smiled, though the weariness in her face still showed.
"When are you leaving?"
"This evening."
"Then go and finish the paperwork. I'll take care of her."
Elina nodded and walked up the stairs.
--------------------
"So… this is your room," Arya said as she opened the door.
Rheia's eyes widened.
The room was large, its curtains draping like giant sheets of cloth. Even here, the wealth and power of the Hawkbane family showed in every corner.
She stepped slowly toward the window and looked down.
Beyond the side yard stretched vast green fields, the river running beneath them in a quiet surge. And above it all, the Skaemarian Mountains rose like giants, their peaks lost in mist.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Arya stepped closer to her. "So… how was your journey?"
"It was okay," Rheia finally said.
"And—wait here—I have something for you!" Arya said quickly, realizing she'd forgotten something. She rushed out of the room.
As she left, Elina entered.
"Rheia, wash up and come downstairs to eat something. New clothes are in the bag," Elina said from the doorway.
Rheia nodded again—but this time, a tear slid down her cheek. Silently. She didn't even notice it fall.
"Do you want to talk?" Elina asked softly, crossing the room and placing her hands on Rheia's shoulders.
Rheia's lips trembled. Then the tears came—falling, unstoppable.
"Why… it… happe—" Her voice broke, and she threw her arms around Elina, sobbing like a child.
Elina held her close. Her own tears followed. They stood there in front of the window, two people sharing the same pain.
Meanwhile, Arya returned with a phone in her hand. But when she saw them, she stopped. Quietly, she set the phone on the table and slipped out without a word.
Hours passed.
Rheia stepped out of the shower, her hair damp and skin still warm from the water. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the river.
The night was dark, heavy with clouds, yet above the mountains a faint light shimmered—cold and distant.
She lay down on the bed.
Before she could remember the night that had passed, sleep took her.
--------------------
Everywhere was darkness.
She walked through the void—no path, no measure of time—and she walked aimlessly.
Then, far ahead, a faint glow began to spread; the horizon cracked open with light, slowly spilling across the void.
Her steps quickened. Her walk became a run—then a desperate sprint to escape that endless void.
With each breath, the light grew brighter and brighter.
Grhhh…
A growl cut through her breath. She froze. Something was following her. She turned. Nothing. Only the darkness staring back.
She closed her eyes and forced her legs to move—faster and faster.
When she opened her eyes—
A wolf-like figure stood at the end, blocking the horizon. It rose against the light as a black silhouette, its body made of shadow, its eyes gleaming in the dark.
The light began to flicker—bright—each pulse screaming inside her head.
Voices poured out of the light. Voices—countless voices—fractured, overlapping—the sounds of chaos, fear, and death.
Run…. Run!
Rheia, don't look back.
Her mother's voice.
She ran harder. The ground trembled beneath her feet.
Something followed—closer with every heartbeat.
She turned back. A claw reached for her. She looked into its eyes.
She saw the chaos.
"MOM!!!"
--------------------
Rheia jolted awake from sleep.
Drenched in sweat, drops clung to her forehead like pebbles. Her heart pounded against her ribs. For a moment, she couldn't move.
Then a faint breeze slipped through the open window, brushing her damp skin—soft, as if nature itself were trying to console her.
Slowly, she drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin against them.
She closed her eyes.
Swoosh!
Shing!
But a sound tore through her fragile calm. Her eyes snapped open. She pushed herself upright and listened to the noise.
Metal. Breath. The steady rhythm of steel carving air.
She rose and followed the noise to the window. With each step, the sound grew clearer—grunts. The hiss of movement, the whistle of a blade cutting space.
And then she saw him.
A boy about her age, sword in his hand. Each of his strikes flowed into the next, precise and calm, as if the weapon were a part of him. He was dancing with the sword.
She stared at him. She couldn't take her eyes off him. Caught in the rhythm of his motion. Her gaze followed every arc of the blade.
Then, suddenly—
With a twist and a kick, the sword pointed upward. Its tip aligned perfectly with her.
She saw his face.
He tilted his head slightly—and saw hers.
She slowly lifted her hand and waved at him. He nodded back.
"You must be Rheia, right?"
"Yeah…"
"I am Avon, Avon Hawkbane." He continued his practice with the sword. "It's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too…" she whispered from the window.
Hoonk… Hoooonk…
Rheia turned toward the sound. The same car they had arrived in yesterday was approaching the gates. Without another thought, she rushed out of the room.
Avon walked toward the front yard as the car approached. From it stepped a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black suit.
"Morning, Father," Avon greeted.
"Morning," Edward's voice was low.
"How's the situation? Did they capture it?"
"No. The place is a mess," he said as he took off his coat; his voice was weary.
"Mr. Hawkbane." Rheia's voice carried from the front door.
"Rheia. Slept well?" Edward asked as he walked toward the house.
"Yeah…" Her voice almost didn't come out. "Any news about my parents?"
Edward was stunned for a moment.
"Officially, the rescue has been called off." Edward stopped in front of her. "I am sorry, dear… I am afraid there's been no news of them." Edward's reply was steady, and it cut with finality.
Hot tears blurred her vision. She didn't let them fall. Her throat ached with words she couldn't speak, yet—
"Thanks for the information, Mr. Hawkbane." Her voice trembled as she looked down.
Edward's eyes flicked briefly to his son. Avon's eyes never left her.
"Have you eaten?" Edward asked gently.
She shook her head.
"Then come. Let's eat." He turned toward the house. "Avon—bring her in," Edward whispered to Avon.
Avon's voice softened. "Come with me."
Rheia followed him as she wiped her tears.
The morning light brushed against her face—soft and warm. She was ready to face the new world in front of her.