Kessie Lankerman's POV
From the moment I can remember, there have been very few people I could truly trust. Not many in this world are capable of looking at you without prejudice, without weighing you down with what you once were—or what others decided you should be.
For some reason, no one ever manages to forget the past. Worse still, few are willing to accept the present. Their minds remain tightly bound to an empty, meaningless system, so rigid that they can no longer think for themselves.
They follow false values.
"Are you feeling well, Princess?"
I was so lost in my thoughts that, for a moment, I forgot I wasn't alone.
"If you wish, we can postpone the visit—"
"No!" I interrupted abruptly. "I'm fine… I was just a little worried."
I was lying.
I couldn't deny how much I hated this place. The suffocating, oppressive atmosphere made my legs tremble uncontrollably.
The stench of dampness and blood clung to the air, turning it heavy, almost unbreathable, and keeping my gaze lifted felt like an impossible task.
"One… two… three… Well, would you look at that. The princess Kessie herself."
I turned my head slightly toward the source of the voice, and a shiver ran down my spine.
One of the prisoners had thrown himself against the bars of his cell, arms stretched out in desperation, unable to reach me through the unyielding iron that held him back.
My heart began to hammer violently against my chest. Fear betrayed my steps; I stumbled and fell backward, crashing onto the rough stone floor.
I was still staring at him when, in horror, I saw the seals embedded in the bars ignite.
An electric surge coursed through his body, tearing a scream from his throat—raw and agonizing—that echoed throughout the hall.
Immediately, Sori stepped forward protectively, placing himself between the man and me, shielding my view. Then he offered me his hand.
"Kessie… I'm doing this against your parents' orders…"
He paused as he helped me to my feet. When he continued, his voice had changed—no longer just concern, but restrained reproach.
"You have to be more careful where you walk. Don't look around," he said firmly. "Focus on yourself, and remember why you forced me to bring you here."
Despite the fear still crawling through me after what had happened, I couldn't help letting out a small, amused smile as I recalled how I'd managed to convince Sori to help me with this.
Without wasting any more time, I quickly brushed down my dress, trying to shake off the dust stirred up by the fall.
"Don't you think it would be a good idea for the kingdom to clean this place once in a while?"
"I don't think it's necessary, Kessie," Sori replied with a sigh. "There are bad people here—people who, at some point, failed to appreciate what they had."
Before I could respond, Sori gently pushed me forward, forcing me to keep moving.
I glanced back over my shoulder and saw the man who had been punished writhing in pain on the ground. His sobs grew fainter as we walked away, but even so… it hurt to hear them.
As we moved deeper inside, the darkness thickened. With a quick motion of his finger, Sori caused the torches embedded in the stone walls to ignite one after another.
The corridor lit up, revealing, at the far end, a cell unlike any of the others. Just by watching how the particles of ambient mana converged into a single point, it was clear that escaping that place was impossible.
What stood before us was nothing more than a three-walled chamber, completely open, as if there were no intention at all of hiding what it contained.
No bars. No merciful shadows. Only exposure.
I took a step forward, and from the gloom of one corner, the sound of chains echoed—metallic, scraping, dragging itself out of the darkness.
My lips trembled as I recognized the figure of someone who had once been among the people closest to me.
I wanted to run to her, to hold her, to tell her I didn't hate her… that, despite everything, I didn't blame her for what she had once tried to do to me.
I dragged my feet forward clumsily until I stood before her face, unable to move past the boundary imposed by the invisible barrier.
When I placed my hand against that intangible surface, countless spiraling seals revealed themselves at once, dancing through the air with an unsettling harmony.
From them drifted unmistakable white particles of mana—clear proof of sealing magic.
"How have you been, Kessie?" Ameria's weary voice reached me like a distant echo, muffled by the barrier that separated us.
"I'm fine…" I answered after a brief silence. "Though really, I should be the one asking how you are."
After sitting down on the cold stone floor of the prison, I spoke with Ameria for a long while about everything that had happened so far.
After she was accused of treason against the Elven Kingdom, a thorough investigation had begun to uncover what had truly occurred in the Palace of Snow.
Thanks to Kael offering to remain in our kingdom to ease the tensions that had arisen that night, the human king and my father agreed to pursue the truth to the very end.
I had never believed Ameria was the real one behind my kidnapping.
From the very beginning, I suspected there was more to it—a truth buried beneath layers of convenience and fear.
"Kessie, focus. What are you looking at?"
The reprimand forced me to shut my eyes completely. I couldn't tear my gaze away from her face; even in the darkness of my inner space, I still saw the painful memory of what I had lost forever. Ameria would never be the same again.
Trying to concentrate, I rekindled the light of my moon and scattered every distracting thought, letting the mana flowing through my inner cascade travel to every corner of my body.
For a moment, that faint moon came to life, briefly forming a crescent moon.
I wanted to hold it… but the strain was too much.
"I can't go on," I murmured between ragged breaths.
I braced my hands against the floor, gulping down air as I tried to recover from the exhaustion.
Frustration weighed heavily on my chest: no matter how hard I tried, I was still unable to advance toward a crescent moon.
Considering that I had been fortunate enough to awaken through enlightenment, reaching the next stage should have been easier… and yet, I couldn't.
"Ame, do you have any advice for me?" I asked, clinging to any answer at all.
For a moment, silence became absolute. I thought she didn't want to respond because I'd called her by the nickname I'd given her myself—but soon I understood what the real problem was.
"You've run out of mana," I said, turning my head toward Sori.
"Kess, I don't have infinite mana," he replied, a bead of sweat sliding down his forehead. "At least say thank you."
I let out a strained sigh and resigned myself to my last option.
With effort, I drew the ambient mana toward my wrist, where the bracelet rested. One by one, the beads began to glow with a silvery light, and as they faded, they revealed a sheet of paper.
Since Sori no longer had enough mana to keep weakening the barrier, the seals reactivated. Inside the cell, all sound from the outside vanished completely.
I could no longer speak to her—nor she to me.
That was why I had learned to find solutions even in silence.
"Kessie, we have to go," Sori said, his anxiety unmistakable. "Your parents will notice you're gone."
"I'm almost done," I replied, writing as fast as my hands would allow.
I slipped the pen back into my bracelet in a hurried motion and handed the sheet to Sori so we could leave at once.
"Use what little mana you have left to send this to Ameria," I asked, trying to put on the most innocent expression I could manage.
"Sometimes I don't know whether I'm your bodyguard or your servant," he muttered irritably.
The moment my message reached its destination, I wasted no time and broke into a run toward the exit.
I could no longer endure that nauseating atmosphere—much less the thought of my parents discovering where I had been over these past weeks.
Before crossing the threshold, I looked back at Ameria one last time.
I saw her lips curve into a faint smile before she whispered, barely audible,
"Take care."
As we stepped outside, the warm sunlight welcomed us, accompanied by a gentle breeze that, for a moment, made me forget the place we had just escaped.
The distant cries of merchants began to mingle in the air, and the oppressive silence that had once suffocated me faded away completely.
I lifted my gaze to the sky and watched as the leaves of the kingdom's towering trees fell one by one, drifting in different directions, dancing through the air with an almost unreal serenity.
"There you are…" Sori's voice sounded behind me. "You're faster than before, even if only for a brief—"
I didn't pay him any attention.
My eyes remained fixed on the vastness of the sky, on that freedom I couldn't understand—why the earth itself seemed so determined to condemn it.
"What exactly are you looking at?" he added, noticing my silence.
"Why does everyone have to be like this?" I asked, meeting his gaze, locking my eyes with his—an impossible scarlet red that was hard to ignore.
He didn't answer right away. He took a few steps to the side, then gently rested a hand on my head as he looked out over the people of our kingdom.
"Just give them time," he said at last. "For many, it's hard to see beyond their own noses. You'll be a good queen—never doubt that."
The reason I'd learned, from a young age, to trust so few people was simpler than anyone might imagine.
If there was one thing that deeply unsettled the elves, it was any disruption of the royal inheritance through bloodline.
Sometimes I didn't even know whether my parents truly loved me, or if they merely used me as a convenient excuse to hide my mother's infertility.
I had stopped thinking about that a long time ago… or at least, that's what I told myself.
But it was hard to leave it behind—especially when I'd gone from living in a modest home, surrounded by other children, to sitting on a throne beside the most powerful figures in the kingdom.
"Watch where you're going, impostor."
I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed the villager standing in front of me.
I tried to apologize at once, but when I met his eyes—filled with raw, naked hatred—the words died in my throat.
"Didn't anyone teach you to apologize, little girl?" he added when I remained silent.
My body began to tremble as I sensed the particles of his aura stirring, turning a sickly red that radiated a suffocating hunger for hatred.
I saw him raise his hand to strike me, but before he could complete the motion, his arm froze in midair.
Sori had seized his wrist.
The grip was brutal—enough to force him to his knees with a strangled groan.
"Show some respect when you speak, villager," Sori said, his anger so tightly restrained it was more dangerous than a shout.
For a moment, the market fell silent.
Then came the murmurs. Uneasy whispers, averted gazes, footsteps retreating.
"Sori, let him go, please," I said, clutching a fold of his cloak to get his attention. "It's not worth it."
I saw his jaw tense, but in the end he released the villager's wrist roughly.
The killing intent that spilled from his aura was enough to drive everyone watching a step back.
"Come, Princess. Don't lower yourself to these poor, ignorant souls," he said, resting a hand on my back to urge me forward.
Without looking back, we walked toward the stairs leading up to the castle. We said nothing; deep down, it no longer mattered.
This was something I was used to.
And seeing the anger reflected on Sori's face only reminded me that she had never agreed with the way I chose to handle things. But the truth was simple and bitter: I couldn't change it.
"Kessie… please, I'm begging you. Tell your parents what happened," she said, stopping abruptly. Her voice was broken. "Stop hiding your pain from your family. They love you."
Without turning around, I gave a small nod, offering the confirmation she was looking for.
"I have to go. When you leave, don't forget to let me know," she added.
Moments later, I felt her aura fade away among the leaves of the trees.
I let out a tired sigh, forcing myself not to dwell on what had just happened.
As the palm of my hand brushed against the dancing flowers decorating the stairway, I sensed the atmosphere inside the castle beginning to change.
I frowned when I noticed that, beyond the walls, the soldiers' auric silhouettes remained motionless—tense, rigid, like statues.
But what truly caught my attention was something else.
On the upper floor, right inside my parents' chambers, there was a third presence.
It emitted no aura at all.
And yet… I could feel it.
Cautiously, I took a step forward and opened the door just enough to slip inside without drawing attention.
What I found on the other side left me frozen, trapped between shock and terror.
Everything had lost its color.
The walls, the floor… even the people inside lacked the auras that defined them. They stood motionless, frozen in time, as if the world itself had stopped just for them.
Not understanding what was happening, I approached one of the servants and tugged at his shirt to get his attention.
There was no response.
Only silence.
Golden particles floated through the air with an unsettling delicacy, weighing down the atmosphere with an invisible pressure that tightened my chest.
That was when I felt it.
By pure instinct, I realized my mana was being drained—even though I wasn't using it.
Without wasting time, I suppressed my energy inward, sealing the flow of mana to keep myself from being emptied.
Unlike humans, who must consciously activate and deactivate their astral magic to avoid exhaustion, elves keep their mana source in constant circulation. It is part of our nature, the result of an innate mastery over our reserves.
And yet…
I couldn't understand why this was happening to me.
When I completely suppressed my astral magic, my parents' auras vanished. Panic struck me instantly.
I climbed the stairs with extreme caution, holding my breath, aware that I no longer knew who—or what—might be with them.
Something inside me screamed for me not to move forward.
To run.
But I couldn't leave them alone. I loved them, even if I couldn't say for certain that they felt the same about me.
"What exactly do you think you're looking for?"
My father's voice echoed down the hallway, raised and fractured by a fear I had never heard in it before.
I took a few more steps and cautiously peeked around the corner.
Horror seized me.
A silhouette made of shadows held my father by the neck, lifting him into the air with insulting ease. His body struggled helplessly, feet dangling, breath choked away.
"Listen carefully, inferior," the entity said, its voice seeming to come from more than one throat. "You will do as you are told, or your family will die here and now."
Before my father lost consciousness, the shadow released him.
His body hit the ground with a dull thud.
My mother rushed to his side, kneeling beside him as she lifted her gaze—burning with a rage so tightly restrained it hurt to witness—toward that thing.
"If you betray your kingdom," the entity continued, "we will show you mercy."
The voice twisted and overlapped, as though multiple wills were speaking in unison.
Fear overwhelmed me.
I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, hugging myself, unable to fully comprehend what I was witnessing.
"Do you promise you won't hurt us?" my father asked weakly, struggling to draw air back into his lungs.
"As long as you serve us, there will be no need to kill you," the shadow replied. "We have plans for this continent… and I want you to be my eyes and ears."
There was a brief pause.
"Think of your daughter."
At those words, I felt its gaze pierce through the wall— as if it had known all along that I was there.
Tears spilled freely. I didn't know what to do. I was scared.
I wanted someone to be with me.
"Where are you, Kael…?"