I blinked, scanning the villagers as they passed by. Their tunics? Black. Their cloaks? Black. Even the aprons of the women carrying baskets of goods? Black.

It wasn’t just their clothing, either. The horses trotting along the dirt paths—black. The pigs rummaging near the wooden pens—black. The crows perched ominously on rooftops—black. Even the stray cats slinking between the alleyways—jet black.

I narrowed my eyes.

Was this some sort of fashion statement? A cult? A morbid lack of creativity?

Or… was it because of Zagan?

The thought hit me like a bolt of lightning.

Of course. These people must wear black to show their loyalty to him. Or—more concerningly—to avoid angering him.

I glanced down at myself. My silver hair. My white dress. My pale skin practically glowing under the moonlight.

Oh.

Maybe that was why I looked like a pest in Zagan’s eyes. I was color—an eyesore—standing in stark contrast to his sea of black.

It suddenly made perfect sense why he seemed so visibly irritated every time he looked at me.

Just then, I heard voices from around the corner. Two villagers were deep in conversation, but the moment they saw me, they froze.

Their faces paled, and in perfect unison, they quickly bowed. “M-My lady.”

I raised an eyebrow. My lady? When did I become their lady?

I waved a hand. “Go on, guys. Speak of your… whatever you were talking about.”

They hesitated, exchanging nervous glances.

Suspicious.

I folded my arms. “Alright, fine. Let’s change the subject. What do you think of Zagan?” I gestured vaguely around us. “And what’s with all the black?”

The shorter of the two coughed into his fist, his eyes darting anywhere but at me. “W-Well, it’s… tradition. Lord Zagan prefers it.”

The taller man hesitated before adding, “Also, there are… rumors.”

I arched a brow. “Rumors?”

He forced a laugh, his forehead shining with nervous sweat. “Oh, you know, silly things! Like, um, how some of the soldiers once had to stop Lord Zagan from—haha—killing you… because you’re, well… all white.”

I stared at him.

Then at his friend, who was nodding vigorously.

Then back at him.

A beat of silence.

“Oh,” I said blankly. “Lovely.”

“Of course! Just rumors! Hahaha!”

Sure. Rumors.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. My plan to seduce Zagan? Absolutely doomed.

How could I possibly seduce a man who allegedly had to be physically restrained from murdering me over my color palette?

No. This was hopeless. Completely and utterly hopeless.

"You see, my lady, Lord Zagan is… particular."

"Particular?" I echoed, deadpan.

The shorter man nodded gravely. "Yes. Anything that isn’t black…" He made a slicing motion across his throat.

I blinked. "Anything?"

They both nodded.

"There was once a white bunny that hopped into the courtyard," the shorter one whispered. "Lord Zagan took one look at it and said—"

“Kill it,” the taller man finished ominously.

I choked on air. "A bunny?"

They nodded solemnly.

"And then," the shorter man continued, "a white wolf from the mountains wandered too close to the fortress. A rare creature, majestic and strong!"

"Let me guess," I said flatly.

The taller man sighed. "Kill it," he mimicked in a deep, gruff tone.

I clenched my fists. "It was a wolf! At least that makes a little sense!"

"Then," the shorter man leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing the most horrifying secret of all, "there was this beautiful white silk that a merchant tried to gift him."

My stomach twisted. "Don’t tell me—"

The taller man let out a dramatic sigh. "Burn this."

I nearly collapsed on the spot.

Okay. Alright. This was fine. Totally fine.

I, a woman with silver hair, white dresses, and zero black features, was trying to seduce a man who had a scorched-earth policy on anything that wasn’t void-colored.

Fantastic.

I let out a long, suffering sigh and dragged a hand down my face.

"Well," I muttered under my breath. "There go all my plans."

The villagers exchanged nervous looks. "What plans?"

"Nothing," I groaned. "Nothing at all."

This was hopeless. I was never going to get on Zagan’s good side, let alone seduce him. He probably looked at me the same way he looked at that white bunny—like a pest that needed to be exterminated.

"Kill it," I muttered under my breath in a deep imitation of Zagan’s voice, earning odd stares from the villagers.

Before I could make a dramatic exit and properly sulk about my failed seduction plans, a heavy voice interrupted.

“Don’t give the lady false rumors.”

I turned to find a soldier stepping forward—a big one. Not just your usual towering, brooding, dark-cloaked warrior, but a brick wall of a man. He was built like a fortress, but unlike the others, he had a friendly smile.

"Don't believe in rumors, my lady," he said, crossing his arms. "The bunny that was killed contained a virus that could spread to humans, so we had to eliminate it."

I blinked. "Oh."

"The white wolves?" He shrugged. "They're delinquents. Trouble-makers. A pack of thieves constantly raiding the villages. We deal with them like we deal with any threat."

That… was fair. I supposed I couldn't exactly argue with bandit extermination.

"And the white silk?" I challenged, crossing my arms.

"That," he said, "attracts Celestians."

I frowned.

"As you can see," he gestured around, "the colors here are dark. Celestians are drawn to light colors, especially white. It stands out in the shadows. It was no coincidence that a Celestian attacked you."

I stiffened.

Right. That Celestian from before—it had gone straight for me, as if I had been a beacon in the dark.

The soldier sighed and shook his head. "There’s more to it, but that’s all you need to know for now."

Before I could press further, he turned to the villagers. "Curfew is near. Go back to your homes."

The villagers scattered instantly, their whispers fading as they hurried away.

Then, the soldier turned his sharp gaze on me. “And you, my lady. Return to your chambers.”

I opened my mouth to argue—then shut it.

Something about the way he said it, all steel and authority, told me I wouldn’t get anywhere by pushing back. So, with a sigh that was only mildly convincing, I nodded and turned on my heel, pretending to retreat.

Only the moment he was out of sight, I bolted in the opposite direction.

There was no way I was giving up now.

Zagan had vanished into the night like some brooding, untouchable phantom, and I was going to find him.

The deeper I went, the more I realized I had made a mistake.

The trees grew thicker, their gnarled branches casting eerie shadows under the faint silver moonlight. My feet ached from stepping on sharp twigs and uneven roots, the damp grass clinging to my boots with each hurried step. Still, I pushed forward, my breath steady despite the ache. The darkness didn’t frighten me. It never had.

As a child, I loved the night.

I used to wander the magical forest in my mother’s old town, chasing after glowing butterflies with cupped hands. The village elders had always warned me not to stray too far, but I never listened. How could I, when the trees whispered lullabies in the wind and the fireflies painted the world in soft hues of violet and blue?

Just like these.

I paused, watching as tiny specks of light flickered around me, their ethereal glow illuminating my path. For a brief moment, the heavy, damp air around me felt… familiar. Not just in the way a forest should, but in the way a memory does.

I swallowed hard.

It had been years since I thought about that place. My mother’s old town—the one I could never return to.

The lost kingdom.

I missed her.

She had left when I was eight and never returned. I understood why, of course. She had a duty—she served the Queen and the King. More than that, she was the previous Queen’s lady-in-waiting. They had been best friends. My mother’s loyalty had been absolute.

I never resented her for it.

But I did wonder what would have happened if she had chosen differently.

My fingers trailed absently over the bark of a nearby tree as a distant memory tugged at me—one I couldn’t quite place. A small hand in mine, warm and hesitant. I remembered the sensation of pulling someone through the night forest, leading them forward with childlike excitement. “Look! They’re glowing! Have you ever seen something so pretty?”

Who had I been speaking to?

The memory blurred, like a dream slipping through my fingers.

A boy. There had been a boy.

I tried to picture his face, but nothing came. Only the sensation of his hand in mine, the quiet way he had followed me without a word.

My heart skipped a beat.

Why did I feel like I knew who it was?

I opened my mouth to say his name—to test the thought—but the moment the first syllable formed on my tongue, my mind snapped back like a whip. The memory scattered, dissolving into fog.

I stumbled, gripping the nearest tree for balance, my breathing uneven.

What… was that?

A sharp gust of wind rustled through the leaves, snapping me back to the present. Above me, dark figures soared across the sky. Their silver wings shimmered under the moonlight.

Celestians.

My stomach twisted.

Whatever Zagan was doing out here, I had a feeling I was about to walk straight into it.

Had I crossed the borders?

Was this forest a passageway to Terran?

The thought barely settled before a deep, guttural growl cut through the night like a blade.

I spun around—

And froze.

A massive black wolf stood before me, its golden eyes gleaming like molten fire. Its body was built for the hunt—lean, powerful, deadly—but right now, it was struggling. Its front leg trembled under its weight, blood seeping from a fresh wound on its side, staining the dark fur. Yet even injured, it held itself like a predator.

I should’ve turned and run.

But I didn’t.

Because above us, I saw them.

Celestians.

They circled like vultures, their monstrous wings slicing through the misty air. They weren’t just hunting. They were waiting. Watching. Calculating the perfect moment to swoop down and finish their prey.

The moment came in the form of a piercing shriek.

And then—they attacked.

The first Celestian dived, talons outstretched, aiming straight for the wolf’s throat.

Not on my watch.

I didn’t have magic. But I didn’t need it.

Wait.

Why didn’t I have magic?

Panic twisted in my gut, just for a second. My magic had always been there, humming beneath my skin, wild and untamed. And now?

Nothing.

I reached inward, grasping, searching—still nothing.

Great. Just great. My magic chose now of all times to disappear? This was literally a life-or-death moment! If there was ever a time for a dramatic, heroic explosion of power, it was now!

The Celestian was nearly on us—

No time to think.

My fingers curled around a thick branch beside me, the wood solid beneath my grip. A makeshift spear, but it would do. I shifted my stance, weight balanced, every nerve in my body wired for battle.

The first enemy came close—I lunged.

CRACK!

My spear struck home, piercing through flesh and bone. The creature shrieked, its body convulsing before crashing to the ground in a heap of silver feathers and blood.

Another swooped in from my left.

I twisted, angling my weapon just in time to meet its charge. The impact sent vibrations up my arm, but I held firm, slashing upward, cutting through its wing. The Celestian spiraled, crashing into the underbrush with a dying wail.

The wolf fought beside me, snarling, snapping, despite the pain slowing its movements. It tore into one of the creatures, its fangs sinking deep into a feathered throat. But the wound on its side was draining its strength.

A screech from above made my stomach sink.

I looked up—

And my heart nearly stopped.

More.

Dozens more.

Celestians filled the sky, their glowing eyes locked onto us. Wings flared, talons gleamed, and I knew—we had no escape.

I clenched my jaw, gripping my spear tighter. Fear clawed at the edges of my mind, but I shoved it down.

"Be brave, Thalia."

I could almost hear my mother’s voice, steady and firm.

"The world will not wait for a savior. Sometimes, the only shield you have is yourself. Be brave. Stand tall. Fight like hell."

A slow exhale left my lips.

Alright then.

If this was it, I was going down swinging.

Another sharp caw echoed through the air, and suddenly—

Wait.

Why were they all looking directly at me?

Oh.

Oh, good lords.

The villagers.

The way they all wore black. The way they avoided me like I carried the plague.

It wasn’t fear.

It was survival instinct.

I glanced down at my outfit—soft white tunic, a deep red cloak. Practically glowing under the moonlight.

I was a walking, breathing Celestian beacon.

Oh, for the love of—

"Maybe they had a point," I muttered under my breath, barely dodging a swooping attack. "I should’ve worn black. Maybe then I wouldn’t look like a giant, delicious, Celestian-flavored meal."

The wolf growled beside me. I wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or just annoyed at my rambling.

I sighed. "I swear, if I live through this, I’m raiding someone’s wardrobe."

No time to dwell.

Another Celestian dove—I spun, my spear slicing through its wing before burying deep into its chest.

No magic. No way out.

But I wasn’t backing down.

Not now. Not ever.

The battle was far from over.

Another Celestian lunged, its talons reaching for my throat. I ducked low, sweeping my spear upward in a deadly arc. The blade of my makeshift weapon tore through feathers and flesh, sending the creature spiraling back with a wretched screech.

But there were too many.

For every one I struck down, two more took its place. They swarmed like a living storm, their wings stirring the air into a frenzy. The wolf beside me was slowing, its breaths ragged, its injured leg trembling beneath its weight.

My own body was reaching its limit. My arms ached, my grip on the spear growing unsteady. My feet—gods, my feet—were raw and sore from stepping on rough branches and damp earth. But I couldn't stop.

"Be brave."

Another enemy descended—this one faster, more vicious. It aimed straight for my heart.

I twisted at the last second, barely dodging the strike, but its talons grazed my shoulder. Pain seared through me. Warm blood trickled down my arm.

Damn it.

The Celestian shrieked, flaring its wings for another strike—

But it never got the chance.

A blur of black fur lunged forward. The wolf moved with brutal precision, fangs sinking into the creature’s throat. The Celestian flailed, its screeches gurgling into silence as the wolf tore it apart.

We stood back-to-back, panting.

The Celestians hesitated.

Just for a moment.

But it was enough for me to see it—the way their glowing eyes flickered, the way their wings shifted uneasily.

They were… assessing me.

No—recognizing me.

And then—

I felt it.