“Please…”

The voice echoed like a ghostly whisper. The young woman’s vaporous figure was barely discernible, wrapped in a soft glow that seemed to fade with every word.

“You are my only hope…”

Her eyes, a deep turquoise blue, reflected an ancient sorrow.

“Help us.”

She pleaded, just before the vision dissolved into nothingness.

The thud of a book striking the table jolted Sven out of his trance-like state. He straightened at once, startled, realizing he had fallen asleep in the middle of the lesson.

“Lord Sven, I trust this will not happen again,” the tutor said, adjusting his glasses with evident frustration.

“My apologies, master.”

“If you are to become the next royal consort, it is imperative that you master politics and diplomacy. Let us resume the lesson from the beginning.”

Heat rose to his face as he sat upright, trying to focus while the tutor continued with another chapter on the founding of Diodain. Yet his mind remained trapped in the dream that had returned every night for days.

An hour later, he left the academy hall with his head lowered. The gardens stretched out before him, radiant with white roses that contrasted with his somber mood.

“Sven!”

A small blue creature flew toward him energetically.

“I was getting bored waiting for you.”

Sven smiled despite himself and stroked Nébula’s soft ears, eliciting a gentle purr that, at least for a moment, pulled him away from his thoughts.

An idea formed clearly in his mind.

“Let’s go visit Nox.”

Nébula settled on his shoulder as Sven made his way with determined steps toward Lumi, his pegasus, who grazed peacefully nearby. He took the reins and stroked its mane, wordlessly telling it it was time to depart.

The creature took flight with elegance, leaving the academy grounds behind. It gained altitude with a soft beat of its wings before turning obediently in the direction its rider indicated. Sven cut through the bright, open skies of Diodain’s capital, feeling the warm breeze play with his hair.

The atmosphere shifted as they traveled. The air grew colder, and clouds began to surround them.

The pegasus soared over the dark forest, venturing beyond the boundaries the locals avoided. The white and golden structures of the sunlit kingdom faded far behind, replaced by a sea of perpetual shadow. The magical forest resembled a deep abyss, covered by dense clouds that never allowed light to pass through.

Lumi descended toward a familiar clearing. Its white form shone like a luminous pearl amid the gloom.

As they touched the ground, Sven spotted Nox’s familiar silhouette waiting for him at the door of his small cabin, wearing a calm smile that seemed to anticipate his arrival.

With a graceful leap, he dismounted and returned the greeting.

“You knew I was coming?”

“I’ve been able to feel your unrest for days,” Nox replied. “I was expecting you.”

They embraced warmly. Sven’s white hair contrasted with his friend’s black robes, like opposing piano keys.

Upon entering the cabin, he noticed the scent of exotic herbs. The bubbling of some tonic over the embers filled the air, and a familiar warmth enveloped him at once. In the depths of the dark and mysterious forest, the place felt like an oasis of stillness.

Nox extended his arm, indicating a seat at the only table in the center of the room. Sven obeyed, while Nébula curled up on a soft cushion beside him.

“What have you been thinking about lately?” Nox asked.

He then removed a cloth that concealed an ornate crystal ball. At the touch of his hands, the artifact reacted, emitting a faint glow that illuminated the oculomancer’s face. His eyes flickered with a purple hue.

“I’ve been having a dream for days,” Sven confessed. “There’s someone calling to me… and I don’t know what it means.”

He looked at his friend with admiration. Beneath the dark hair that partially covered his face, Nox showed a level of focus worthy of a master of the occult arts. Sven couldn’t help but feel fortunate to have someone so wise by his side.

“I need you to focus your sight and your thoughts on the light,” Nox instructed, “while I cast.”

Sven obeyed. Inside the sphere, blurred shapes began to form as Nox murmured a chant in an ancient tongue. He tried to fix his mind on the face and the words of the lady who haunted his dreams.

The air grew denser, heavy against his eyelids and his head. He perceived nothing but the ritual, as the shapes within the crystal became clearer.

He did not know how much time passed before, from the center of the light, a dark figure emerged. Like malignant smoke, it spread until it consumed everything. The sphere seemed too small to contain it.

From it, vaporous silhouettes burst forth—black forms that took the shape of beasts, slashing and roaring in an unnatural silence. The sorcerer’s eyes flared like amethysts as he watched the manifestation rise toward the ceiling, unable to escape.

“What is that, Nox?” Sven exclaimed, recoiling in his seat.

“I—I’ve never seen anything like it…” he murmured.

At once, he began to recite new chants, tracing symbols in the air with his fingers. The whirlwind of darkness seemed to calm little by little, but Sven felt the world around him dim.

The shadows retreated back into the sphere. His body gave way, collapsing onto the table.

The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was a woman’s voice calling his name.

His body still felt heavy when he opened his eyes, but Nox’s bed was soft and warm. As he sat up, he caught the murmur of a kettle about to boil. In front of the fire, Nox carefully sprinkled herbs into two cups before pouring the hot water.

“Sven!” Nébula lunged at him, rubbing her velvety cheeks against his. “I thought something had happened to you. You wouldn’t wake up.”

“All of a sudden, I felt very sleepy,” he murmured, stroking his companion as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Nox handed him one of the cups.

“I don’t like this vision at all.”

Sven took a sip. Warmth spread through his body, but as he recalled those silhouettes, a deep chill settled once more in his chest.

“I feel like those creatures are…”

“They are,” Nox replied gravely. “They look far too much like the monsters from the massacre of Delphen.”

His heart lurched.

Nine years had passed since that night, and yet the memory still lingered, lurking. At first, thinking about it made him cry without restraint. Later, it left only a knot in his throat. But lately, it was different—not sadness, but a constant pressure, an ache that returned every time the name Delphen was spoken.

In Diodain, Sven was merely a surviving noble. To the rest of the continent, the lunar royalty no longer existed. He lived surrounded by comfort—protected, privileged. Allowing himself to long for the past felt like nothing more than an act of ingratitude.

Only with Nox could he admit it.

“So… is it a memory?” he asked softly.

“No,” the mage replied after a moment. “It’s a premonition.”

Sven felt the pressure tighten in his chest. Then something else pulled him from the tangle of emotions.

It was night.

He set the cup aside and sprang to his feet.

“I have to go! Thank you for helping me, Nox.”

The mage did not lift his gaze from his drink.

“It’s nothing… Thank you for coming. You’re the only one who does.”

Sven thought he detected a deeper sadness than usual in his voice, but he did not stop. He offered a gentle smile before leaving, eager to put distance between himself and that place—and the shadows he had seen.

When Sven’s figure and Lumi’s glow disappeared among the trees, the cabin seemed to sink into an even heavier gloom. The forest itself grew oppressive.

“Please… be careful,” Nox whispered into the emptiness.

He pressed a hand against his chest. On the back of it, a crimson symbol glowed with an unsettling heat.