Shadow
Chapter 8
Aletheia’s Tower (Part 4)
The Griffin
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Evan walked angrily, lost in thought, until his feet led him unconsciously to the Queen’s

Palace. Before he knew it, he was standing inside her chamber—his daze was broken by the sound of two women screaming, one running about and the other hiding under the bed covers in panic!

Evan froze, his eyes widening as he removed his trembling hand from his reddened cheek—the same spot Shadow had slapped not long ago.

He realized he’d barged into the Queen’s room again—and that she wasn’t wearing her head covering! Flustered, he rushed out… only to knock on the door again moments later.

“Enter, you fool!” Asma called out after Ivanka helped her put her headscarf back on.

“My Queen! Haha, I’m sorry!”

Asma frowned at him, “You seem to forget every time! My hair isn’t something you’re allowed to see—I’m not a child anymore!”

“Yes, my apologies! I keep forgetting... Forgive me.”

Asma laughed lightly. “It’s fine.”

Ivanika, however, glared at him furiously, making the color drain from his face—except for his reddened cheek and split lip. She looked at him in shock, but he averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed. She didn’t dare to ask.

Asma broke the awkward silence.
“Evan! What happened to your face?”

“Uh… I tripped and fell…”

“How original,” she said dryly, her half-lidded eyes full of boredom at such a cliché lie.

“Uh… fine, you caught me, My Queen! It was just a small fight, nothing serious, I—”

“Did the King hit you?” Ivanka suddenly asked.

Evan’s eyes trembled, and he quickly turned away. Asma noticed how uneasy he looked before Ivanka, as if he couldn’t bear to look weak in front of her. She decided to change the subject.

“What a jerk,” she thought, then said aloud, “The fact that Prince Evan came here despite his duties must mean something important.”

“Oh, yes! My Queen, did Ivanka tell you? We’re going to try again—to enter Aletheia’s Tower!”

“So that’s the name of the tower? It sounds suspiciously poetic! Haha! The Tower of Truth!”

“You have a good grasp of ancient languages, My Queen!” Evan smiled in admiration.

“Perhaps! I studied hard. All right then—we’ll go again tomorrow.”

“Agreed. But this time, we won’t use the Griffin himself… let’s just say we’ll use part of him.”

Asma tilted her head in confusion, but Ivanka reassured her, “If the plan fails, I’ll carry you myself, Your Majesty. With your permission, of course.”

Asma laughed. “All right, I don’t mind, Ivanka.”

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The next morning, Evan left with Shadow from the capital, Nixara, to attend a political meeting in Valembra—the second most important city in Norton. Before leaving, he handed Ivanka a small crimson velvet box.

Once the King’s grand entourage departed and silence finally returned, Asma and Ivanka sighed in relief.
Now—and only now—the path to Aletheia’s Tower was clear!

They headed straight for it.

As they walked through the dark, still forest surrounding the palace, Asma noticed the red box Ivanka carried. Her curiosity got the better of her.

“What’s that? A wedding ring from Evan? It looks longer than a ring…”

“Uh… no, Your Majesty!” Ivanka blushed slightly. “We can’t tell you the truth because of the royal life-binding contract… but let’s just say you already know.”

Suddenly, Ivanka drew a black wand from the crimson velvet box and pointed it at Asma’s forehead. A radiant aura burst around her—so bright it was as if the sun itself had been trapped inside her body!

Moments later, Asma felt something strange… as if she were dragging something long—something heavy. She couldn’t move from shock. A weight pressed down on her back.

When she regained a bit of composure, she saw Ivanka now wearing pitch-black glasses.

“Ivanka? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Don’t worry—I took precautions this time,” she replied calmly. Asma chuckled, but when she moved, that odd sensation grew stronger.

A massive white structure gleaming with golden patterns hovered above her. Asma screamed and clung to Ivanka.

“Wha—aaah! Help me! What is that?!”

“Your wings, My Queen.”

“I have wings?! Nonsense! You’re lying!”

Ivanka simply adjusted her glasses in silence.

“This cursed wand! What did you do to me? This must be Evan’s plan, isn’t it?”

“Yes, My Queen! Brilliant, isn’t it? The glasses were his idea, too.”

“What’s wrong with you? Are you that impressed with his brains? I appreciate your loyalty to him, but am I stuck with these things forever?”

“You can hide them, Your Highness—just like I do. Watch.”

Ivanka hid her wings.

“How did you do that?”

“I just think about hiding them—and they disappear. Try it.”

Asma copied her—and it worked! She laughed.
“What kind of wand is this? A magic one? Where does Evan even get these things?”

“He doesn’t get them—he creates them. That’s Prince Evan’s power. He’s a hybrid nymph—darkness from his late father, King Asrahan von Falcon, and fire from his late mother, Queen Ruby von Dryden.”

“Wow. Royal bloodlines I couldn’t care less about…”

“What I meant, Your Highness, is that Prince Evan crafted this wand from Griffin feathers. It’s the Florinda Wand—the same one you once used as a child to cultivate the blooming province of Florencia!”

“So, it’s not strange that I’ve been here before… You said I used it for cultivation—does that mean my wings were grown the same way?”

“Exactly. It didn’t create them—they were always there.”

Asma stared at her, stunned.

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The two girls reached the window of Aletheia’s Tower once again.

“All right, we’ll be fine this time,” Asma whispered to herself before stepping in, with Ivanka following close behind.

This time, the corridor didn’t shift like before. Instead, the mirror approached them—eagerly, as if it had been waiting, lonely and sorrowful, before lighting up in joy at seeing her again.

“Hello, Mirror!”

“You know her?”

“She scared me last time—don’t upset her,” Asma muttered.

The mirror floated closer and closer until it cornered them.

Asma began to sweat nervously as Ivanka drew her sword, slashing at the mirror relentlessly. The mirror drooped sadly and bowed its head.

“Don’t hurt her, Ivanka! You made her sad!”

The mirror lifted its face again, seemingly understanding Asma perfectly. It then began to spin proudly around Ivanka to tease her before pointing inward. Asma immediately understood its intention.

“Ivanka, we need to enter the mirror!”

“My Queen, this mirror is suspicious! Even though I’ve seen plenty of strange things in my life as a fairy, I still don’t trust this! Absolutely not!”

“Oh, Ivanka! Come on! The mirror’s adorable… aren’t you, sweetheart?” Asma patted it gently.

Ivanka laughed in disbelief.

Asma stepped into the mirror, with Ivanka reluctantly following—and suddenly, they were inside a closet!

Asma opened the closet door… and found herself back in her bedroom at her grandfather’s house.

She stared in disbelief—her soft bed, the faded walls, her desk, her old lamp, and the clock showing 3:00 PM.

Asma wrapped her arms around herself as a shiver ran down her spine. Seeing her old life again filled her with a strange nostalgia and dread.

“Your Majesty! Is this… a letter?” Ivanka’s voice broke her trance.

Inside the closet lay an ancient parchment, sealed tightly with a long, glowing magical seal covered in strange runes.

Asma broke the seal, and the long scroll unfurled across the floor, revealing a message written in a now-readable language:

“My daughter…
If you’ve found this place, know that you carry within you the legacy of Light and Alchemy.
My treasure will awaken in you—but beware of the one who will try to break your will…
even if it’s someone closest to you.”

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