The days that followed Lady Hanuel's vow to the king were not measured by sunlight or
moonrise, but by the slow decay of her divine strength. Her once-glacial aura, pure and
radiant, had dimmed into something brittle—still beautiful, but breaking at the edges. Yet
even as her power waned, her resolve hardened like frozen steel.
She had promised two years. And she would keep it.
Hanuel traveled across the lands in disguise, her once-regal robes replaced with plain linen
cloaks. She crossed mountains cloaked in mist, visited temples older than the kingdom itself, and spoke to hermits who claimed to have seen the dawn of time.
She sought anyone—anything—that could stabilize the cursed flame inside the young Prince Taehyung.
But everywhere she went, the answer was the same:
A child born with the mark of Heaven's fire will consume all that loves him.
Each whisper carried the same warning: only a being with power equal to the heavens'
decree could counterbalance such a fate. Not a god, not a demon—but a soul born under
rare alignment, blessed by fate itself.
And so, with despair heavy upon her heart, Hanuel made the decision that would seal her
own fate.
In the seventh month of her search, Hanuel foresaw a man through her divine sight even though she had lost her powers but she can still retain her divine sight which was very rare as she consider it a miracle,
" Maybe the Heavens ain't that cruel after all"
A mortal blessed with immense fortune, the kind of fate that could bend the laws of the
heavens themselves. His name was Yun Seojin, a wandering scholar from the southern
provinces.
He was kind but poor, charming but pragmatic. When Hanuel approached him with her
request, he did not believe her at first. But when she showed him her power, the frost
blooming in the air around her, the little power she had left that was sustaining her life, he fell to his knees.
"What you ask," he said slowly, "is not of love, is it?"
Hanuel shook her head. "No. It is of destiny. A transaction between two fates."
Seojin's gaze lingered on her tired eyes. "Then I will do it," he said, "For the price you've
offered—and for the sake of the Heavens' balance. And for a life you decided to save. "
It was not love that united them. It was desperation and the whisper of prophecy.
A year later, beneath the silver light of an early winter moon, a child was born.
Hanuel held her close and felt a warmth unlike anything she had known—a warmth that neither burned nor froze. It was gentle, pure, balanced.
The moment Aera opened her eyes, three radiant lights glimmered faintly upon her chest.
Hanuel's breath caught in her throat.
"Three cores…" she whispered. "The heavens have sent a child of destiny."
Aera's birth shook the fabric of fate itself. She carried within her three divine essences—of
balance, life, and love. Such a being had not been born since the dawn of the deities. But
the heavens, in their cruel symmetry, added a curse to her gift:
The one who holds all shall walk alone.
Hanuel wept as she kissed her daughter's forehead. "Aera," she murmured, "This will be your name. It means love. You will be the bridge between two cursed fates—his fire, and your light."
For a year, Hanuel raised Aera with her father, watching her grow into a bright-eyed, quiet child with a mysterious calmness. Even as an infant, Aera's presence stabilized the frost around her, warming her dying mother's hands.
But Hanuel could feel it—the ticking of the king's two-year bargain drawing to a close.
While Hanuel devoted herself to her secret mission, the palace she had left behind had
transformed.
King Younghae, bowing to relentless court pressure, had taken a new queen—one chosen by the opposition factions who now ruled the court in all but name. Within that year and six months, the new queen bore him a son
The court celebrated as if the dark shadow of Queen Saha's death had been erased. The
ministers spoke of prosperity returning, of a "new age of fertility and peace."
But beneath the gilded laughter, the king's heart remained hollow. His eyes, though still
sharp, carried the same emptiness that haunted the throne since Saha's passing.
He rarely visited Taehyung's chamber anymore. The boy's cries of flame and pain were muffled behind walls of silence.
The kingdom moved on.
But destiny had not.
Far away, in a modest cottage where frost and warmth coexisted, Lady Hanuel watched her
daughter sleep—knowing that soon, she must take her back to the palace.
To meet the cursed child fated for her.
To fulfill the promise she made with her dying heart.
" I will be going soon. I know she is also your child but she has a destiny to fulfill."
" I know and I will never try to see her, I promise".
And so, as the two-year mark neared, fate prepared its next move—a meeting between fire and love, both born from sorrow, both destined to shape the kingdom's future.
Lady Hanuel, her body trembling with exhaustion and her once-glorious aura dimmed to a faint shimmer, stepped into the palace halls. The frost that clung to her robes sent chills through every courtier who dared look upon her. Even the almighty king felt a flicker of unease as she stood before him, a fading yet still powerful deity.
"Your Majesty," she began, her voice thin but edged with unshakable authority, " Protect this
child. Treat her as you would treat the kingdom's own lifeblood. If you ever dare to treat her like a maid… I swear on my fading core, I will destroy this kingdom from its roots."
Her pale hand trembled as she lifted it, but the frost that swirled in her palm was enough to
make the torches flicker and the king's breath freeze in his throat.
"And remember," she added, her eyes glinting like dying stars, "she is no ordinary girl. She is
the new deity — a child destined to lead this kingdom to thrive. Guard her well, Your
Majesty… or face the wrath of the heavens themselves."
The king, for the first time in years, found no words. He could only nod, his eyes flicking
between the frost curling around her fingers and the small child at her side. Fear — a rare
visitor in his heart — settled like lead in his chest.
Lady Hanuel turned without another word and left the throne room, her steps slow but
resolute. She carried Aera in her arms back to her chamber, the flickering lanterns casting
long, trembling shadows across the walls. Kneeling beside the cradle, she whispered softly to the child:
"I'm sorry, my little one. I'm sorry for everything… You must protect a prince called
Taehyung, no matter what. He is the key, the boy who has done nothing wrong yet suffers for sins he never committed. Protect him, even if the world turns against you."
A tear slipped from her eye, freezing before it touched the floor. She brushed Aera's cheek
one last time, her hand shaking as her strength began to fade completely.
"I'm sorry I won't be able to watch you grow," she murmured. "Heavens… please protect
Taehyung… and Aera… especially Taehyung. Let me bear all his faults."
Her final breath left her lips in a soft sigh. Her body dissolved into thousands of snowflakes,
scattering across the room like fragments of a frozen prayer.
Outside, the entire kingdom began to snow. Citizens looked up at the sky in awe as a silent, mournful storm descended, its flakes shimmering like silver tears In the palace, King Younghae stood at the window, staring into the endless white. His hands
trembled as he gripped the sill. He knew instantly what the snow meant. Hanuel was gone.
Another soul lost because of him.
Looking up to the sky, his voice broke into a raw whisper,
"Everyone has died… They've all left me. Why am I the only one alive? Is this… my
punishment?"
The snow answered with silence, falling thicker, as though the heavens themselves mourned with him.