"What did you say?" she demanded, her voice low but carrying a weight that made the knight's spine stiffen.
The knight, clad in the polished armor of the royal guard, shifted uncomfortably under the queen's intense gaze. His brow was damp with sweat, not from fear but from the enormity of what he had just reported. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure.
"Your Majesty," he repeated, "the man I spoke of was described by multiple witnesses, including mbers of the S-ranked adventurers party, the Ironclad Phoenix. He was clad in assassin's attire, wielding dual blades, and moved with an efficiency and precision that left even the most seasoned warriors in awe.
According to the report, he fought alongside a beast tar ranger—a woman by the na of Sylvanna. Together, they fought under the party na 'ShadowBound.'"
"ShadowBound?" Aurelia repeated, her tone contemplative as her mind churned through the information. "And this… Dravis?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Dravis," the knight confird, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "According to the Ironclad Phoenix, it was Dravis who led the defense of the region during the early stages of the goblin war. He organized the resistance, fought on the front lines, and gave strategic orders to both adventurers and rcenaries.
They claim his leadership was a key factor in holding the line before Earl Drakhan and Duke Icevern arrived."
Aurelia leaned back in her throne, her fingers lightly tapping the armrest. The na felt familiar in the recesses of her mind, but it was like a shadow, always just out of reach. Her thoughts swirled as she tried to recall where she had heard it before.
"And yet," she said, her voice growing colder, "this Dravis disappeared after the war?"
The knight lowered his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Yes, Your Majesty. It seems that after the goblin king was slain, Dravis vanished without a trace. The adventurers and soldiers who fought alongside him said that one mont he was there, giving orders, and the next… gone. The Ironclad Phoenix themselves searched for him, but they found no sign of him or Sylvanna."
Aurelia's fingers stopped tapping, and she sat in silence for a long mont, her mind racing through possibilities. It wasn't uncommon for rcenaries or adventurers to vanish after a mission, especially when they were tied to dangerous or secretive jobs. But this… Dravis had led the defense. He was no re rcenary.
"And what of the Ironclad Phoenix?" she asked, her voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. "What was their assessnt of this man?"
The knight hesitated, unsure of how to put the Ironclad Phoenix's feelings into words. "They spoke highly of him, Your Majesty. They called him a warrior without peer—a man who commanded respect without asking for it. They seed… conflicted about his disappearance. On the one hand, they acknowledged his role in their victory, but on the other… there was frustration. They felt abandoned by him."
Aurelia's lips pressed into a thin line as she processed this information. "And you, knight? You've spoken to these adventurers yourself. What do you believe?"
The knight raised his head, eting the queen's gaze with resolve. "I believe that Dravis and his companion Sylvanna are no ordinary adventurers, Your Majesty. Their skills and the way they led the battle speak to sothing… greater. I sought to find them after the war, but no one could say where they had gone. It is as though they vanished into thin air."
The queen's gaze turned distant, her thoughts retreating inward as she considered the implications. The war with the goblins had been a devastating conflict, and anyone who could lead in the chaos of such a battle was not soone to be dismissed lightly. But a leader who disappears at the mont of triumph? There was more to this Dravis, and Aurelia intended to find out what.
"Continue the search," she ordered, her tone brokering no argunt. "I want every informant, every spy, and every adventurer in this kingdom looking for them. If they exist, they cannot simply vanish into the night. Dravis and Sylvanna must be found, knight. Do not return to
until you have sothing substantial."
The knight bowed low, his relief at being dismissed hidden beneath his rigid posture. "As you command, Your Majesty," he said, before turning and leaving the throne room with hurried steps.
As the knight's footsteps faded, the throne room fell into silence. Only the soft rustle of the pri minister's robes could be heard as he approached the queen's side, his elderly form bending slightly in a gesture of respect.
"Your Majesty," he said softly, his voice a gentle breeze compared to the intensity of the recent conversation. "Is sothing troubling you about this Dravis? You seem… preoccupied."
Aurelia's gaze remained fixed on the stained-glass window, her expression unreadable. "It's nothing," she replied, though her tone lacked conviction. She paused, as if weighing her words. "It's just… the way they described him. His movents, his attire… it reminded
of soone."
The pri minister tilted his head slightly, curiosity evident in his pale eyes. "Soone from your past, Your Majesty?"
Aurelia closed her eyes briefly, allowing the mories to surface. She could still recall the desert—a vast, barren wasteland stretching out beneath an unforgiving sun. The heat, the sandstorms, the cries of demons filling the air. And there, amid the chaos, she had t him. A man clad in black, his face hidden beneath a hood, wielding dual blades with deadly precision.
A man who had saved her life, yet left without a word, disappearing as suddenly as he had co.
But no… it couldn't be the sa man. That had been not very long, and she had long since convinced herself that the mory was nothing more than a dream, since that man was a person that she t through that shitty quest. She thought that he must not exist in the sa world, the sa tiline, and the sa place as her.
"Impossible," she murmured to herself, her brow furrowing.
"Your Majesty?" the pri minister asked, concern lacing his voice.
Aurelia shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "It's nothing," she said again, this ti more firmly. "Just an old mory. Nothing more."
The pri minister bowed once more, accepting her words without question. "As you say, Your Majesty."
Aurelia allowed herself a mont of silence as the pri minister returned to his place. She closed her eyes once more, trying to focus on the present, but the image of that man—his face obscured, his blades flashing in the light of the setting sun—refused to leave her mind.
And then, suddenly, her surroundings shifted.
The familiar pull of teleportation magic gripped her, yanking her away from the throne room and thrusting her into the unknown. The cold stone floor of the throne room vanished beneath her feet, replaced by soft earth and the scent of pine. When her eyes snapped open, she found herself standing in a forest clearing, the trees towering above her, their branches casting long shadows across the ground.
And as usual, it's just the prologue.
Soon, the illusionary disappeared.
Before her, the usual white space, and the usual person, the princess of a certain kingdom, sitting while sipping her tea like it's very normal for her to do so.
"You again," Aurelia hissed, her eyes narrowing as she recognized the man before her. "You bastard."
___
--Back to Draven's PoV---
This.
Whose mories are these, I wonder.
I looked up, and there she was—a girl, no more than seventeen, standing before . Her presence stirred sothing in , but I knew this wasn't my mory. The scene felt too distant, too unfamiliar.
My father—the forr Earl of Drakhan—stood before , reprimanding
for my diocrity. His voice was sharp, cutting through the rain that poured relentlessly. I stood firm at the mansion's gates, enduring the downpour as punishnt. The cold soaked through my clothes, but the weight of his disappointnt was heavier.
This isn't real. Not my past, not my sha. But then... these emotions—deep, suffocating—hit
harder than the rain. They weren't mine, but I felt them all the sa. The frustration, the hopelessness of trying and never being enough.
And just as I was losing myself in the flood of emotion, sothing changed. The cold rain stopped. The feeling of water hitting my skin vanished.
I looked up.
A large umbrella shielded
from the rain, held by a figure standing close. Her hair—glistening, pure, like freshly fallen snow—flowed over her shoulders. She was radiant in the storm's gloom, her expression soft, though her eyes held strength.
"Why suffer in silence?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm.
And in that mont, I understood.
Ah...
So this is why...
This was why the original Draven had fallen for her.
The girl who stood with him in the storm, offering solace when he felt utterly alone.
"Sophie..."
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