The kind where every path looked equally uncertain.
For the first time since escaping the estate...
He had no idea what he was supposed to do next.
His eyes drifted toward the library window.
Outside, servants continued preparing for the celebration as though the world hadn’t changed.
His thoughts drifted somewhere they rarely dared to go.
His mother.
Nyneve.
She hadn’t lived to see the war.
Months before the first army crossed Eldia’s borders, she had fallen ill.
It had begun with something so small no one had worried.
She always tried to hide before anyone noticed.
The finest physicians in Eldia had visited House Novaryn.
Apothecaries.
Healers.
Each left with the same answer.
They didn’t know.
No poison.
No curse.
No illness they could name.
Only that...
Day by day...
She seemed to fade.
As though something invisible was quietly stealing pieces of her life...
The room smelled of herbs.
Sunlight seeped through half-closed curtains, falling across the bed where she lay.
She looked...
Smaller..
Eldrin stood beside the bed.
His elder brother stood on the other side, trying harder than anyone not to cry.
Nyneve looked at them both.
A faint smile touched her lips.
"My brave boys..."
Her voice had grown so soft they leaned closer just to hear it.
She reached out.
One trembling hand rested against Eldrin’s cheek.
The other found his brother’s.
For a long while...
She simply looked at them.
Then she whispered.....
"...When someone tells you where home is..."
"...don’t answer too quickly."
The brothers exchanged a confused glance.
Nyneve smiled again.
"As long as you’re together..."
"...don’t let anyone decide your names for you."
She coughed.
A single crimson stain spread across the white cloth pressed against her lips.
The room fell silent.
Her breathing grew slower.
Almost peaceful.
She looked toward the window.
As if she could already see something no one else could.
"...I’m sorry..."
she whispered.
"I won’t be there..."
Those were the last words she ever spoke.
...
Somewhere beyond the Solmere.
Branches snapped beneath hurried footsteps.
Zarian didn’t dare look back.
Behind him....
Steel rang against steel.
Then came another sound.
A tree crashed somewhere to his left.
Too close.
Much too close.
"They’re gaining!"
a voice shouted behind him.
Zarian clenched his jaw.
Who are these people...?
He didn’t know.
They hadn’t worn uniforms.
No banners.
No crest.
Only dark cloaks.
SWIS!
Another arrow struck a tree trunk inches from his shoulder.
Wood splintered across his face.
He didn’t slow.
Zarian threw himself behind the tangled roots of an ancient oak.
The roots rose from the earth like the ribs of some buried beast, leaving just enough space for a man to disappear beneath them.
He slowed his breathing.
One hand covered his mouth.
Even the sound of a single breath felt too loud.
Footsteps approached.
Two men emerged through the trees, swords still drawn.
They stopped less than twenty paces away.
The older of the two scanned the forest before clicking his tongue.
"...Where did he go?"
The younger man lowered his blade.
"He couldn’t have gone far."
The older one shook his head.
"We’ve already wasted too much time."
Silence settled between them.
Then the younger man spoke again.
"...Do you think he knows where the boy is?"
The older man’s expression darkened.
"He served House Novaryn for years."
"If anyone can lead us to the last survivor..."
"...it’s him."
Zarian’s fingers slowly tightened against the damp earth.
They know...
The older soldier glanced toward the endless forest.
"We can’t linger here."
"This is Maria."
"If we’re discovered operating inside their borders, the diplomats can explain it."
His companion gave a dry laugh.
"I’d rather not leave that to the diplomats."
"Then move."
"If the old servant escaped this way..."
"The boy can’t be too far."
They disappeared into the trees, their footsteps gradually swallowed by the forest.
Zarian remained where he was.
Only after the woods had fallen completely silent did he crawl out from beneath the roots.
His heartbeat refused to slow.
They weren’t hunting him.
He had merely been...
...the trail.
A trail leading to Eldrin.
He looked south.
Toward House Korrandis.
"If the auction records were right..."
"...Young Master is there."
His expression hardened.
"I have to reach him first."
Without another glance behind him...
Zarian disappeared into the forest.