The throne room of Eichenwald had never been so quiet. Even when the horde had stood at the gates, voices had filled this hall — arguments, orders, curses. Now the silence was so thick it felt as though it could be cut with a knife.
Tywin sat in his place, leaning heavily on his cane. His face was impassive, but the fingers gripping the handle had turned white. Roxana stood slightly behind him. Her crimson eyes were redder than usual — she had not slept all night, rereading the letter over and over.
Before them, on a low table, lay that same scrap of paper. It had already been read by everyone who had the right to know — and by many who did not. Rumors had spread faster than any messenger could ride.
“This is madness,” General Valdemar’s voice rang out in the silence like a hammer strike. “What creatures from beneath the earth? What oath? She was an ordinary woman! In golden armor, yes, but still ordinary!”
“She stopped the horde,” Ren Jinja said quietly. “She taught Violette a new kind of fire. She knew names she should not have known. If she says there is a threat…”
“If she says!” Kaito Tsubame interrupted, leaping to his feet. “If! We know nothing about her! Nothing! She appeared out of nowhere, saved everyone, and now she disappears into nowhere, leaving us with fairy tales about monsters under the ground! Do you truly believe this?”
“Then what are we supposed to believe?” Roxana’s voice silenced the room. She stepped forward, and in the candlelight her figure seemed towering. “That she ran away? Why? For what reason? She had everything. A home. A family. Love. She could have stayed. She could have ruled beside my brother. She could have been happy.”
“Maybe she didn’t want that,” Kaito objected, though his voice sounded uncertain.
“Didn’t want it?” Roxana gave a bitter smile. “Have you seen the way she looked at him? How she trembled when he was near? How she smiled when she thought no one was watching? That was not a lie, Kaito. That is something that cannot be faked.”
“Then why did she leave?” asked the old general. “Why did she abandon everything if she was happy?”
Roxana fell silent. She had no answer. And that was the worst part of all.
“We must check the archives,” Tywin’s voice rang out, low but edged with steel. “If there is even the slightest hint of what she wrote about… we need to know.”
“Do you believe her, Your Grace?” one of the advisors asked.
Tywin looked at him. His eyes held the weariness of centuries.
“I believe that she saved my son. I believe that she stopped the horde. I believe that she loved my son. As for the rest…” He paused. “…we will verify the rest.”
The archives of Eichenwald Castle were vast. Chambers carved deep into the heart of the rock, filled with scrolls, books, and manuscripts collected over centuries. Even the most curious minds rarely descended here — too much dust, too little light, and far too much time required to find anything useful.
Today, the archives were alive with frantic activity.
Roxana descended first. Behind her came Ren Jinja, his eyes burning with the fire of a scholar who had found an unsolved mystery. Kaito, who still harbored doubts but could not stay away. Aoi Midori, whose deep connection with the forest might help them understand the “ancient roots” the Keeper had mentioned. And dozens of scribes, gathered from every corner of the castle.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Kaito asked, gazing at the endless rows of shelves.
“Anything connected to ancient threats,” Ren replied, already diving into the first stack of scrolls. “Legends, myths, records of catastrophes that cannot be explained by wars or natural disasters. Anything mentioning ‘creatures from beneath the earth,’ ‘ancient gates,’ or ‘Keepers.’”
“This will take weeks,” Kaito groaned.
“Then we start now,” Roxana cut in sharply, opening the first massive tome.
Three hours passed. Dust hung thick in the air, eyes watered, and backs ached. But they found something.
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“Look at this,” Ren’s voice sounded muffled, yet tense with excitement. “This is a record from the first Duke of Eichenwald. The very founder of our house.”
Everyone rushed toward him. Ren held a massive, heavy scroll, its edges crumbling with age.
“In the year when the stars fell from the sky,” he read, “the earth split open at the foot of the Eternal Forest. From the fissure crawled creatures unknown to this world. They had no eyes, yet saw everything. They had no ears, yet heard thoughts. They had no mouths, yet devoured souls. We called them the Hungry.”
“The Hungry,” Aoi repeated, her face turning pale. “I have heard that name in the old legends of our house. They say the Hungry come when the world loses its balance. They cannot be killed. They can only… be sealed.”
“Sealed?” Kaito echoed. “How?”
“By the Keepers,” Ren answered, turning the page. “It says here: ‘And then from the forest came those who remembered the oath given at the beginning of time. They called themselves the Keepers. They descended beneath the earth to hold the gates. And they swore that as long as even one of them lived, the Hungry would not return.’”
Silence fell over the chamber.
“She wasn’t lying,” Kaito whispered, his face ashen. “She wasn’t lying.”
“Keep reading,” Roxana ordered, her voice trembling.
Ren turned several more pages.
“Many years passed. The Keepers left one by one. Their oath was heavy, their lives short. And in the end, only one remained. The one who knew no rest. The one who had watched his brothers fall. He was called…” Ren fell silent, his fingers shaking.
“Who?” Roxana asked.
“Akley,” Ren read. “The last Keeper. The one who went into the earth and never returned.”
Akley. The very name she had spoken in the camp. The very name she had called her first love. The very name she said had gone into the forest and never come back.
“She went after him,” Aoi said softly. “She went to finish what he started.”
“Or to die beside him,” Kaito added quietly.
“No,” Roksana shook her head. “She went to save us. Because it’s her duty. Her oath. Her life.”
She took the scroll from Ren’s hands and read the lines once more.
“‘And as long as even one of them still lives, the Hungry shall not return.’”
“She won’t come back,” Kaito whispered. “If she’s the last one… if she goes underground…”
“She will come back,” Roksana cut in sharply. “She promised.”
“She promised Randel,” Ren said quietly. “But if her duty…”
“To hell with duty!” Roksana slammed her fist on the table. The scrolls scattered across the surface. “She promised she would return! She promised she would be happy! She promised they would have children! And I won’t let her die underground like some… like some hero from a damn legend!”
She was breathing hard, her eyes burning with fierce determination.
“We’ll find a way,” she said. “If those gates existed, if those creatures were sealed away… then there has to be a way to hold them back. And there has to be a way to bring her back.”
“But if she really is the last Keeper…” Kaito began.
“Then we’ll become the new Keepers,” Aoi interrupted. Her voice was soft, yet steady as steel. “If the threat is real, if those things can return… we can’t rely on her alone. We have to protect our world ourselves.”
Everyone turned to look at her. A quiet fire burned in her green eyes.
“She showed us what it means to be strong. She showed us what it means to believe. She showed us that even one woman can change everything. So why can’t we—all of us together—do the same?”
Roksana stared at her, and something warm bloomed in her chest. It wasn’t just hope. It was something greater.
“You’re right,” she said. “We won’t abandon her. We won’t abandon them. If Randel went after her, if she’s down there, underground… we’ll find a way to help.”
She turned to the others.
“Gather every record you can find about the ancient gates. About the Hungry. About the Keepers. We need to know what’s waiting down there. We need to know how to defeat them. And we need to know how to bring her home.”
“And if she can’t be brought back?” Kaito asked.
Roksana looked at him. There was no doubt in her eyes.
“Then we’ll go to her. All of us. Because she’s ours. And we’re not letting her go.”
They only made their way up to the throne room when evening had already fallen. Taiwin was waiting for them, his face pale and drawn.
“What did you find?” he asked.
Roksana placed the scroll of the first duke before him.
“She wasn’t lying, Father. Everything she wrote… it’s all true. The Hungry exist. The Keepers existed. Akley was the last one. And now… now she is the last.”
Taiwin read the scroll. Slowly. Carefully. His fingers trembled.
“She knew,” he said quietly. “She knew she would have to leave. From the very beginning.”
“She hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” Roksana replied. “She hoped she could stay. But the gates… the gates had weakened. And she had to go.”
“Or maybe the gates weakened because of her,” Kaito’s voice cut in sharply. “Think about it. She appeared — and war broke out. She appeared — and the Hungry came. What if her presence on the surface is the very reason?”
“Shut your mouth,” Roksana said, her voice dripping with venom. Kaito instinctively took a step back. “She saved us. She loved us. She left to protect us. And if you ever say another word against her… I will personally make sure you go down there to find out whether the Hungry really do eat souls.”
Kaito fell silent.
Taiwin lifted his head. His face remained calm, but pain lingered in his eyes.
“What now?” he asked.
“We wait,” Roksana answered. “Randel went after her. If anyone can bring her back, it’s him.”
“And if he can’t?”
Roksana looked at her father. There were no tears in her eyes — only steel resolve.
“Then we go ourselves. All of us. Because she isn’t just the Keeper. She is our family. And we don’t abandon our own.”
She turned and walked out of the hall, leaving the others standing in heavy silence.