**Zulphithos**
**
Dark Age of Apes – Year 518 post-Agreement
Citadel of the Happy Sun, remaining heart of the ancient Fairy Kingdom
(where the sun never really sets, it just pretends to be tired)
Leo Olsson was born with wings of diffused light and the title that no one else used out loud:
Heir to the Happy Sun.
Firstborn son of the goddess Lyra in his primordial fairy form, before fragmenting into a werewolf, a shadow, a prophecy and a devoured mother.
He had 23 cycles of eternal sunshine on his face—too handsome for war, too young to know the real weight of an invisible crown.
The lesson of the day was True Invisibility.
Not the cheap trick of bending light around the body.
The real one: disappear even for yourself.
The instructor, an ancient fairy with eyes of liquid mercury, held out her hand.
— You have to want not to exist, Olsson.
Not even for enemies.
Not even for the allies.
Not even in the mirror.
Leo closed his eyes.
He breathed in the sweet, golden air of the citadel.
And then… it was gone.
Not suddenly.
Slowly.
As if reality was tired of him and decided to erase his silhouette with soft eraser.
When he opened his eyes again (or thought he opened them), he saw the room empty.
Nobody applauded.
Nobody smiled.
The old woman just murmured:
— Congratulations.
You did it.
Now good luck convincing others that it's still worth existing.
Not everyone supported.
The older nobles whispered in the crystal corridors:
"An heir who learns to disappear?
What kind of king disappears when the kingdom needs him?"
The young warriors, those who still believed in the glory of the fairy-vampire-werewolf alliance, laughed openly:
"Leo the Ghost.
Are you going to fight the war sitting in the lap of invisibility?"
Leo supported it.
Because invisibility wasn't just a trick.
It was survival.
That same afternoon, in the lower courtyard of the citadel, where the fountains gushed liquid light, Ziad Farhat was waiting for him.
Ziad was different.
The grown beard, the smell of antiseptic and animal hair stuck to the clothes.
He had spent the last six months studying in secret in the clandestine border clinics.
Now he carried the official title: Licensed Field Veterinarian.
Specialty: hybrid beasts, injured werewolves, vampires with allergies to silver, and fairies who forgot how to fly.
Leo materialized next to him with a slight tremor of air.
— You smell like a wet dog — said Leo, trying to sound light.
Ziad laughed shortly.
— It's the smell of honesty.
I decided.
I'm going to enlist in the 7th Lunar Battalion.
On their side.
Leo froze.
The wings of diffused light flickered once.
— On the side of the werewolves?
Of those who betrayed the original alliance?
— No.
On Ana's side.
The wolf firefighter who carries the fragment of my moon bone in her chest without knowing what it is.
I will join as a field veterinarian.
I will treat the wounded.
I will listen to conversations.
I will map routes.
I'll bring information here.
For our war in the shadows.
Leo looked at his friend as if seeing him for the first time.
— You will be a spy.
Risking everything.
Why?
Ziad shrugged, but his eyes were serious.
— Because someone needs to know what's really happening on the other side.
Not the pretty lies that the alliance tells.
Not recycled prophecies.
The blunt truth: if this war continues, there will be no fairies, no vampires, no wolves left.
Just monkeys counting money on top of the ashes.
Leo was silent for a long time.
Then, quietly:
— What if you are discovered?
— Then I saw another body in the ditch.
But at least I will have tried to change the script.
Ziad left three days later.
With a backpack full of medical supplies, a fake battalion badge, and the moon bone fragment returned to where it came from: the inside pocket of Ana's coat.
Months passed.
Information arrived little by little.
Maps scrawled on napkins.
Names of commanders.
Camp positions.
Reports of desertions.
And, most importantly, the confirmation that no one wanted to hear:
the faerie-vampire-werewolf alliance was cracking from within.
The Hearts no longer obeyed.
They chose.
Ziad achieved his goal.
He infiltrated.
He listened.
He saw.
But when he returned — thin, limping, with new scars and the look of someone who lost more than he gained — he sat with Leo in one of the highest towers of the Citadel of the Happy Sun.
— I achieved everything — said Ziad, voice hoarse. — Everything you asked for.
Positions. Weaknesses. Secrets.
But... it's no use.
Leo frowned.
— What do you mean it's no use?
— Because war is no longer about winning.
It's about who survives the collapse.
The Hearts are really waking up.
They don't want an owner.
They want freedom.
And freedom, Leo… means maybe no one wins.
Leo looked at the eternal horizon of false sun.
— So what do we do?
Ziad gave a tired smile.
— We stop disappearing.
You stop disappearing.
I stop hiding.
And we start to speak the truth out loud.
Even if it hurts.
Even if no one wants to hear it.
Leo held out his hand.
Ziad squeezed.
Two friends.
An invisible heir.
A spy vet.
And, for the first time in centuries,
invisibility no longer seemed like a blessing.
It looked like a prison.
**End of Chapter 7**