Rhea stood before the gate of Ilmar Village, tension hanging in the air like an unseen storm.
The soldiers did not take a single step inside the walls, yet their presence alone was enough to fracture the village's sense of safety. Their armor was dust-stained, their expressions worn, and their eyes carried the sharp focus of hunters whose chase had not yet ended.
Rhea lifted her chin, her voice calm and steady.
"What do you want?"
Their commander stepped forward half a pace.
"We are pursuing a thief," he said. "A sorcerer. Clever. Dangerous. He entered this region last night."
Rhea's eyes narrowed.
"A thief?"
She gestured toward the gate behind her.
"No one enters Ilmar without being seen. This village is not open to strangers."
The commander replied evenly, "We chased him through the forest. He was heading this way… and then he vanished."
Rhea turned sharply to the two guards.
"Did anything unusual happen last night?"
One of them shook his head quickly.
"No. It was quiet."
The other hesitated, his brow furrowing as if pulling memories from deep water.
"There was a man," he said slowly. "Strange. He approached us, and after that…"
He swallowed.
"We felt overwhelming exhaustion. Sudden drowsiness. When we woke, it was morning. We don't remember anything in between."
Silence fell—heavy and unmistakable.
"So," Rhea said quietly, "someone entered Ilmar while you slept."
Her voice did not rise, yet its sharpness cut deeper than shouting.
She turned back to the commander.
"What did he steal?"
The commander pulled a leather scroll from his side and unrolled it. A charcoal sketch appeared—a hooded man, his face obscured.
"Something precious to our king," he said. "And the thief is no ordinary sorcerer."
Rhea took the drawing.
She stared at it longer than she intended.
"He entered my village without permission," she said at last, her tone cold.
"And that alone is a crime."
She lifted her gaze.
"Leave. I will not allow armed soldiers to search Ilmar."
The commander's jaw tightened.
"It will not be easy to catch him."
"I didn't ask for your help," Rhea replied.
The soldiers withdrew beyond the village boundary—but they did not leave. Tents were raised near the hills, a silent declaration of watchfulness.
As the commander looked back at the walls, he muttered,
"She will come to us. They always do."
Rhea turned away and entered the village with hurried steps. She intended to go straight to the king.
"Rhea."
Harun stood near his barn, tension etched into his features.
"The people are afraid," he said. "What's happening?"
She followed him inside and explained what had occurred at the gate.
In the far corner, among old wood and deep shadow, the sorcerer listened.
A thief.
That was how they described him.
Rhea's words reached him clearly.
"I will search every inch of this village. He won't remain hidden for long."
His breath caught.
This was not part of the plan.
Harun moved toward the small ostrich chick.
"Come now, little one," he murmured. "Stay close."
Rhea knelt instinctively and lifted the fragile creature into her hands. It was warm and unsteady, its eyes too large for its tiny body.
Despite everything, she smiled.
"You're still learning how to stand."
She set it gently down.
Harun asked, "Have you chosen a name for her?"
Rhea paused.
"Iris."
Harun smiled. "A beautiful name. It suits her."
From the shadows, the sorcerer stiffened.
The ostrich lifted its head.
It made no sound.
Its gaze locked onto the darkness where he hid.
One step.
Then another.
Toward him.
Cold rushed through his veins.
Will I be discovered?
"Iris?" Rhea called softly. "Where are you going?"
The chick did not stop.
Then it stumbled.
Rhea moved instantly, catching it before it fell.
"No… you're still too small."
She held it close, and the moment passed.
But in the shadows, the sorcerer squeezed his eyes shut.
That was too close.
He retreated deeper into hiding.
This girl is not just a guard.
And if I stay here any longer… she will find me.
I must leave soon—
before an eye opens that cannot be closed.
...…..
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