Toji walked forward, his silhouette framed by the flickering embers of the battlefield. His clothes and skin were heavily stained with blood—none of it his own. Behind him, the ground was a graveyard of broken steel; all twenty-three of the S-rank hunters who had guarded the second gate now lay lifeless in the dirt, their elite status meaning nothing against the Cinder Sovereign's wrath.
The heavy silence was broken by the sound of boots. Soichiro approached from behind, his own breathing heavy, and placed a steady hand on Toji's shoulder.
"We lost three of our comrades,"
Soichiro said quietly.
Toji didn't respond immediately. He stood perfectly stationary, his eyes closing as the weight of the report settled over him. A single, silent tear escaped, rolling down his blood-streaked cheek and evaporating before it could hit the ground.
In the background, the remaining warriors began to gather, their faces grim and their weapons lowered in a moment of unspoken mourning.
Toji opened his eyes, his gaze hardening as he looked toward the looming structure of the second gate.
"Let's keep moving,"
He commanded, his voice low but unshakable.
Soichiro nodded, falling into step behind him, followed by the rest of the unit. As they crossed the threshold of the second wall's gate, the true scale of the massive fort finally came into full view—a fort of jagged stone and iron that seemed to pierce the very clouds.
Toji suddenly came to a halt. He turned around, his eyes scanning the faces of the warriors who had followed him this far. He clenched his fist, the red shadow energy flickering around his knuckles.
"You all will stay here,"
Toji declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Me and Soichiro will go in now. Don't let anyone enter... that's your duty."
[SCENE SHIFTS TO ROYAL MARRIAGE HALL]
Inside the grand expanse of the Royal Marriage Hall, the air was thick with a suffocating tension. The guests, nobles, and members of the royal family stood huddled together, keeping a fearful distance from the massive entrance gates. The doors remained shut, bolted against the chaos outside, but the terror had already breached the room. Among the crowd, Zafira stood pale and trembling, her eyes fixed on the heavy wood of the portal.
At the very front of the hall's gate, the King stood like a pillar of cold stone. Beside him, Luke and a line of elite hunters remained on high alert, their faces etched with a grim seriousness that offered no comfort to the watchers.
Luke stood with one hand shoved deep into his pocket, his knuckles white. His eyes were filled with a turbulent mix of deep concern and simmering anger, his gaze darting between the gate and the terrified nobles behind him.
Sensing his gaze, Zafira looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of his strained expression. Seeing her distress, Luke turned away from the frontline and began to walk toward her.
Zafira didn't wait. She rushed through the crowd, throwing herself into his arms and hugging him with desperate force.
"What's happening..."
She sobbed, her body shaking against his chest.
Luke remained silent for a moment, his jaw tight as he gently patted her back, trying to provide a sense of security he didn't truly feel.
"Why is it happening today..."
Zafira's voice was barely above a whisper, her tears streaming down her face as she looked up at him.
"Of all days... why today?"
Luke pulled her back gently, his hands resting on her shoulders as he searched her eyes. For a moment, the chaos outside the hall seemed to fade into a dull hum.
"Tears don't suit this moon of mine..."
He murmured.
A faint blush crept across Zafira's tear-stained cheeks despite the terror surrounding them. Luke reached up, his thumb moving with a feather-light touch to brush away the salt of her tears. Zafira leaned into his palm, her eyes fluttering shut as she sought comfort in the warmth of his skin.
"Don't worry,"
Luke continued, his voice shifting into a tone as cold and sharp as tempered steel.
"I'm here. I'll protect you... even if it takes my life."
Zafira's eyes snapped open, flashing with sudden hurt.
"Shut up! How can you say such words... did you forget what you pro—"
Before she could finish, Luke pressed his hand gently over her mouth, cutting off the sentence. He offered her a weak, weary smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Shh!"
He whispered.
"I never promised you that."
[FLASHBACK]
[2 Years Ago]
The setting sun had painted the sky over the Kingdom of Justice in brilliant shades of crimson and violet. In the heart of the royal garden, the air was cool and fragrant with the scent of evening blooms. The towering spires of the fort cast long, elegant shadows across the manicured grass.
Everything felt eternal and peaceful—a stark contrast to the world they lived in now.
The garden was vast—too vast to ever feel lonely. The sunlight of the setting sun filtered through the canopy of tall, ancient trees, casting long bars of gold across the landscape. Stone paths stretched out endlessly, winding between flowerbeds and quiet alcoves, while the rhythmic whisper of fountains echoed from somewhere in the distance.
Princess Zafira walked a few paces ahead, her footsteps light as she hummed a soft, airy tune to herself. Prince Luke followed beside her, his hands shoved casually into his pockets, content to watch her move through the golden light.
"You're walking too fast,"
Luke noted playfully, his voice breaking the peaceful silence of the evening.
Zafira glanced back over her shoulder, a mischievous grin appearing on her face as she caught his eye.
"That's because you're slow,"
She teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Luke let out a mock scoff, shaking his head.
"Excuse me? I'm walking at a royal pace."
She laughed softly, the sound ringing through the garden like silver bells. She tried to stifle the giggle, but her smile only grew wider.
"Royal pace?"
she said, trying and failing to keep a straight face.
"More like lazy pace."
Luke clicked his tongue, looking away with feigned annoyance.
"Say that again and I'll leave you here."
The threat didn't last a second. Zafira stopped abruptly, causing Luke to nearly bump right into her. She spun around on her heels, planting her hands firmly on her waist with a look of supreme confidence.
"Hey..."
She said, her smile widening.
"You won't. You never do."
Luke froze for a moment, caught off guard by her certainty. Then, he let out a short breath and smirked, shaking his head.
"Tch! Don't act like you know me so well,"
He muttered, though he made no move to leave.
They continued their stroll, the silence of the garden filled only by the fluttering of birds overhead and the quiet drift of flower petals falling onto the stone path. After a few moments, Luke leaned closer to her, his tone becoming more casual, almost curious.
"So... tell me something?"
Zafira raised an eyebrow, glancing at him sideways.
"What?"
Luke pointed toward a vibrant flower bush, its blossoms swaying gently in the evening breeze.
"If I picked every flower in this garden..." he started, his voice dropping an octave as he looked her in the eye,
"...including you... would you finally stop arguing with me?"
Zafira stared at him, her breath hitching. The confidence she had shown moments ago vanished as her face turned a deep, unmistakable crimson. She looked down at the stone path, her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress.
"Idiot,"
She muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in the word.
Luke let out a laugh—a real, genuine one that echoed through the quiet garden. "That wasn't a no,"
He teased, nudging her shoulder with his own.
She quickly looked away, her heart racing as she tried to hide her expression.
Moments passed in a comfortable but heavy silence. The laughter faded, and even the wind seemed to slow down, leaving the garden in an eerie, golden stillness. Zafira's steps became quieter, her head hanging slightly as the playful energy drained out of her.
Luke noticed the shift instantly. His teasing smirk vanished, replaced by a look of genuine concern.
"Hey..."
He said softly, reaching out a hand but stopping just short of touching her.
"You okay?"
Zafira stopped beside a grand marble fountain, the spray of the water catching the dying sunlight and reflecting like diamonds in her eyes.
"Luke,"
She said, her voice small.
"Yes?"
Luke responded, his confusion evident in the way he tilted his head.
She hesitated, her fingers tightening into such white-knuckled fists that her knuckles turned pale. She looked at the dancing water, unable to meet his gaze.
"You know what... I always wish..."
Luke waited, the playful air between them evaporating instantly.
"...that I could die before you."
The silence that followed was suffocating. The very atmosphere of the garden seemed to curdle, the warmth of the sunset suddenly feeling like ice.
"What!?"
Luke turned toward her sharply, his movements jagged. The word wasn't a question; it was a strike. His voice was sharp, cutting through the peace of the evening, and it was filled with a sudden, raw anger.
"How can you say something like that?!" He demanded. His eyes, usually so calm and calculating, were suddenly watery, shimmering with a pain he couldn't hide.
Zafira flinched at the edge in his voice, but Luke didn't stop. The anger was just a mask for the terror her words had sparked in him.
"You don't get to say that... not even as a joke!"
he snapped, his chest heaving.
She lowered her head, her hair veiling her face as she spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
"I just..."
"No!"
Luke interrupted, his tone desperate.
"I don't want to hear it."
His fists clenched so hard they shook at his sides. Then, the sharpness in his voice shattered, replaced by a hollow, broken sound.
"If you die first... what am I supposed to do?"
Zafira looked up then, her heart aching at the sight of him. Luke's eyes, usually so steady, were shaking with a vulnerability he never showed anyone else.
"Promise me..."
She pleaded, her voice trembling. "Promise me you won't die before me."
Luke couldn't bear to look at her. He turned his back, staring out at the darkening garden as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.
Luke shook his head quickly, as if physically tossing the heavy conversation aside.
"Leave it,"
He said, his tone shifting abruptly.
He forced a lopsided smile onto his face, his eyes lighting up with that old, familiar spark.
"So..."
He started, his voice turning playfully defensive. "You still owe me for calling me slow."
"You're changing the topic". She said.
"Am I?"
Luke countered, leaning in closer until their shoulders brushed, his presence filling the space between them.
She let out a long, defeated sigh, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward.
"...you're terrible."
"But handsome,"
Luke added with a wink, tilting his head with practiced charm.
Zafira couldn't help it; she let out a small huff of a laugh and hit his arm lightly. The tension that had felt like a suffocating shroud just moments ago began to unravel. Luke laughed along with her—a soft, warm sound that seemed to push back the encroaching night.
They came to a halt beneath the sprawling branches of a massive, ancient tree. The leaves rustled overhead like a thousand hushed secrets, and for a fleeting heartbeat, the world felt quiet again.
Before Zafira could find the words to argue, Luke moved.
He leaned down, closing the small gap between them, and kissed her. It was soft—a brief, fleeting touch that felt more real than anything else in the vast garden. When he pulled back, a gentle, reassured smile played on his lips.
"Don't think too much,"
He whispered, his eyes locking onto hers.
"I'll protect you."
Zafira's entire face erupted in a deep, burning crimson. She stood frozen to the spot, her eyes wide and her heart racing against her ribs like a trapped bird. The warmth of the kiss lingered on her lips, a stark contrast to the cooling evening air.
Neither of them spoke. The silence was no longer heavy with dread, but charged with a new, quiet intensity. Luke eventually looked away, clearing his throat and stretching the back of his neck as if suddenly finding the bark of the trees very interesting.
A few moments passed. Zafira didn't move; she just stood there, staring at his back, her gaze lingering on Luke.
Luke didn't even have to turn around to feel her eyes on him. He let out a soft chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly.
"... You're staring,"
He said, his voice full of teasing warmth.
Zafira blinked, snapping out of her daze. "I'm not!"
She protested quickly, though her blushing face told a completely different story.
Luke glanced back over his shoulder, a knowing glint in his eyes.
"You are,"
He insisted.
Zafira's cheeks burned even hotter. "Shut up!"
She snapped, her voice flustered as she looked anywhere but at him.
Luke's expression shifted then. The teasing light vanished, and the playful smirk softened into something entirely different. It was a look of pure, unadulterated gentleness—the kind of look he saved only for her.
He stepped closer. He didn't touch her, but he stood just close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. The garden around them seemed to dim as if the world was shrinking down to just the two of them.
"Zafira..."
He said quietly, his voice steady.
"I don't like thinking about endings."
She looked at him, her heart skipping a beat at the gravity in his tone.
"But..."
Luke continued, his gaze narrowing as if he were looking at a future only he could see.
"If the world ever tries to take you away from me..."
His voice lowered to a dangerous, gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.
"I'll destroy it."
Zafira's breath caught in her throat. In that moment, looking at the conviction in his eyes, she knew he wasn't exaggerating. He wasn't a prince making a romantic vow; he was a force of nature declaring war on destiny itself.
"Even if it's fate,"
Luke said, his voice dropping into a register that felt heavier than the twilight air.
"Even if it's a god."
Zafira's fingers trembled against the silk of her dress. She looked at him, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
"You say such scary things so casually," She whispered, her breath hitching.
Luke simply shrugged, the movement relaxed despite the weight of his words. "I'm only honest with you,"
He replied.
A sudden breeze swept through the royal garden, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine and cooling earth. Pink and white petals drifted between them like falling snow, caught in the golden-red light of the dying sun.
Zafira reached out, her hand hesitant before she finally caught the edge of his sleeve, her grip tight as if he might vanish if she let go.
"Luke..."
She murmured.
"Yes?"
She looked down at the stone path, her voice barely audible over the rustle of the leaves.
"...If one day you walk ahead of me... don't disappear without looking back."
Luke froze. The playful air he usually carried vanished instantly, replaced by a profound, echoing stillness. He stared at her hand on his sleeve for a long moment before slowly reaching out.
He placed a gentle hand over hers, his warmth seeping through her skin, anchoring her to the present.
"I won't,"
Luke said, his voice carrying a quiet, unshakable weight.
"Even if I'm bleeding... even if I'm breaking."
He smiled faintly, a expression that was more a vow than a mere gesture of comfort.
"...I'll turn around."
A heavy silence followed as the last of the sun's radiance dipped below the horizon. The vibrant reds and purples of the sky bled into a deep, somber indigo. The day had finally fallen.
"We should get going now,"
Luke noted, breaking the stillness.
Zafira nodded softly.
"Yeah."
They began to walk back toward the looming silhouette of the fort. This time, their strides were synchronized; neither walked ahead. They moved side by side, their shadows stretching long and thin across the stone path until they merged into one.
As they left the garden behind, the fountain continued its rhythmic flow, the water whispering against the marble. The garden remained indifferent and unaware that, one day, this very place would remember them.
It would not remember them for their laughter or their royal status. It would remember them for the promise they made—a pact whispered in the golden hour, before they realized just how close the night already was.
[PRESENT DAY - THE ROYAL MARRIAGE HALL]
The echo of the past dissolved into the cold reality of the hall. For a heartbeat, Luke and Zafira remained lost in each other's eyes, the ghost of those memories lingerd in their eyes.
But the sanctuary of the memory was violently shattered as the King rushed toward Luke, his crown tilted and his regal composure gone.
"Luke!"
The King cried out, his voice shaking with a terror that chilled the room.
"What do we do?!"
Luke turned his gaze toward Zafira's father, his expression unreadable.
"What happened, my Lord?"
The King was panting, his chest heaving as he struggled for air. His eyes were wide, darting toward the trembling gates as he spoke the words everyone feared. "They've already crossed... they've crossed the second gate."
Luke's eyes snapped shut. The news hit like a physical blow, and his fist clenched so tightly that the leather of his gloves creaked.
When he opened his eyes again, the warmth was gone.
His irises had shifted into a piercing, dark blue—cold and predatory—and they began to leak wisps of intense, flickering shadow energy. The air around him grew heavy, vibrating with the weight of his mounting shadow energy.
He slowly turned his gaze toward the massive hall gates, which were now groaning under the weight of the tension outside.
"Let them come,"
Luke said, his voice a low, melodic growl that carried to every corner of the room. "I'll give them some lessons"
To Be Continued...
""[Samarei01]""