At least half an hour had passed. The city and the castle, still imposing, grew smaller as time went on. Zara observed the walls, the towers, and the palace—her home—with careful attention, then captured it all in a drawing in her notebook.
Across from her sat Derek, wiping his nose with a handkerchief.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Zara lifted her gaze slightly.
"Drawing," she said, lost in the movement of the quill.
"That's not what I meant." The young mage furrowed his brow. "Why are you cooperating with us so much?"
"I don't feel in danger, so I don't see why I shouldn't."
Derek frowned.
"You don't feel in danger?" he asked sarcastically. "We could be taking you to your death, girl."
"I already told Shadow—if you wanted me dead, you would have killed me in my room."
The quill's movements were fluid, seemingly ignoring the jostling and bumps of the road. The quill, just as Callen had explained, changed color suddenly, drawing exactly as she wanted.
"How can you be so calm?" Derek looked at the girl's posture. She didn't lift her gaze from her drawing, concentrating solely on that.
He remembered what had happened in that alley—she had protected him, something unexpected. He didn't understand it, but he didn't have to.
"You're not really calm. You're just pretending," he said, sending a chill through Zara, who stopped drawing. "You know you could be making a huge mistake."
The girl remained silent for a few seconds. Smiling, she lifted the half-finished drawing to show Derek.
"This quill is fantastic. My brother really has good taste."
The mage sighed and moved closer to his sister.
"I don't understand it. There's no need to keep her like this. She seems more like a companion than a hostage." Zara had returned to her drawing. "What's the plan?"
"The princess is important. Nothing can happen to her, and for some reason, she's not resisting." Shadow pointed to the area on her neck where she had the tattoo. Zara saw it out of the corner of her eye. "You know what will happen if we fail."
The mage looked away. Then Zara joined the conversation.
"What does that tattoo mean?"
Shadow refused to answer and returned her gaze to the front. Instead, Derek pulled aside part of his clothing, revealing a tattoo exactly the same in the same spot as his sister.
"It's a slave mark. We're both slaves."
Zara looked away, shuddering slightly at the sight. Derek didn't seem much older than her, and yet he was a slave. Perhaps the world had less compassion for people than she had ever imagined.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Derek looked at his sister, and she looked back at him. Shadow nodded, and the mage sighed.
"You have nothing to apologize for, Princess." He stroked the girl's head. "This isn't your fault."
Zara smoothed her hair as best she could after Derek had tousled it.
The carriage fell silent again. The girl watched the birds pass overhead, the wind caressing the immense fields of grass, and finally returned her gaze to the castle walls once more.
Her eyes burned slightly, and her throat seemed to close. Still, she managed to speak: "I'm sorry. Truly."
Though it was almost a whisper, both siblings heard her, but they didn't respond or react, for they knew that apology wasn't directed at them. It was directed at someone much closer.
At that very moment, Zara's siblings made their way through the endless, suffocating hallways of the palace. Olivia and Callen walked toward the throne room with empty hands—they had failed.
They stopped before the door. Olivia looked at her brother, but he seemed distant, somber, angry. She placed her hands on the door handle but stopped again. She knew what would happen when she opened the door. She knew who awaited them behind it. But she couldn't hesitate—not now. So she took a deep breath and opened it.
In the hall, three people awaited them.
To the far right stood a tall woman with violet hair and silver eyes. She wore a robe that matched her hair and carried a staff adorned with a precious gem.
To the left stood a man, clearly quite old at first glance. Gray hair and a long beard, narrowed eyes, and his hands clasped behind his back. He wore a turban, and on his robe, the drawing of a blue moon was visible.
And in the center, seated on his throne, was the King—their father.
The Grand Sorceress Melissa and the High Priest Eramil. If they're both here, it's because Father intends to use everything in his power, Olivia thought.
Both could feel their father's gaze piercing through them the moment they arrived. The disappointment was almost tangible. They both knelt instantly, not daring to meet his eyes.
"It seems the situation is very serious, my King," the woman spoke. "Now that your children have arrived, I would like to know why you called us."
"Melissa speaks with reason. Making an old man like me walk all the way here—truly, this must be serious," the old man added.
The King rose to his feet.
"My youngest daughter, Princess Zara, has been kidnapped."
Both advisors turned to look directly at him, eyes wide open.
"I'll assume this isn't some tasteless joke," said Melissa.
"Our King is not that kind of person, Sorceress," the old man added.
The King raised his hand, and they fell silent before continuing their discussion.
"I recall telling you not to return here if you didn't bring your sister with you." The air grew heavy in the room. "You dare show yourselves having failed a second time?"
Olivia swallowed and lifted her head to speak.
"We were ambushed, Father! Callen had Zara, but apparently there was a third individual." Callen remained silent.
"Remarkable. These enemies must be formidable—not just anyone can surprise our Callen," said the mage with a mocking smile.
"Melissa, this is a serious matter. Don't open your mouth if you have nothing important to say." The King glanced at her sideways as he spoke—a look full of anger and disappointment.
"It was just a little joke, my King." But his gaze didn't seem to yield for even a second. "I'm sorry. I apologize for my lack of respect." The mage relented and lowered her head.
"Aren't you worried, my lord? You seem very calm. We're talking about your daughter here," the old man said, stepping closer to the King.
"You think I'm calm, Eramil?"
"I apologize. I see that's not the case."
Once again, the King turned his gaze to his kneeling children.
"Now, I demand an explanation."
Olivia recounted in exquisite detail everything that had happened—from the encounter with the thugs to their escape from the city. Throughout the entire time, the King did not interrupt once.
"That's everything, Father."
Then the King sighed.
"Are you telling me you were defeated by that stranger for the second time?"
Olivia didn't respond, but there was no need.
"I can't believe it. Trained since childhood to be the finest warriors this kingdom could produce. And yet, you do nothing when it matters?"
The King's voice was laden with unparalleled rage toward his children.
"Because of your failures, your sister is now on her way to enemy territory."
A strange aura flooded the room, emanating from their father, making the siblings' hair stand on end.
"What do you think the Tarzovians will do with her?"
Olivia felt herself falling prey to fear, but this was no time for that. Though it cost her, she had to speak—if only to slightly improve their situation.
"We can still act, Father!" Olivia spoke again. "My monocle still detects the woman's position. We can go after them."
"And why should I trust that you'll have better luck this time? What makes you think I would prefer you for this mission over your other brother?"
"Our brother is abroad! By the time he returns, it could be too late!"
The princess stood up and struck her chest.
"As Princess of the Luneria Empire, I, Olivia, will give my life if necessary to ensure my sister's safety!"
The princess spoke with conviction, clenching her fist so tightly it threatened to bleed, and her gaze did not waver in the slightest as it met her father's.
Her father raised an eyebrow. Though he could observe clear nervousness on his daughter's face, she did not yield to fear for even a second.
"Heh. The girl has guts. You raise your children well, my King."
The King sighed. It seemed his daughter's speech had convinced him somewhat, and his fierceness abated a little.
"Very well. I will grant you a third chance—not one more. I will give you supplies, clothing, and horses for the journey." The King stepped back to sit on his throne once more. "But I warn you—I will not accept any failure this time."
Olivia seemed to celebrate the new opportunity their father had given them, but Callen didn't look happy at all. Quite the opposite.
The prince stood up.
"And what if Zara doesn't want to come with us?" Everyone in the room looked at him in confusion.
"Callen, what are you talking about?" his sister whispered.
The King raised an eyebrow, but seeing the seriousness with which his son spoke, he decided not to ask why.
"If she refuses to come willingly, you are permitted to use force. You don't need to bring the others back alive."
Callen nodded and walked out of the room, opening and closing the doors with force.
"Callen!" Olivia was about to go after him, but the King's voice stopped her.
"Olivia, you know how important Zara is. You more than anyone must understand why we cannot let her fall into enemy hands."
Olivia bit her lip slightly and nodded.
"Don't worry, Father. I assure you—we won't fail this time."
With that said, the girl ran after her brother.
"Ah, youth—what a great waste of brotherhood and concern," the mage said, taking a few steps until she stood before the King.
"You said it, Sorceress. But I suspect our King didn't call us here just for that. Am I wrong?" Eramil did the same.
The King brought one of his hands to the bridge of his nose.
"This problem is giving me a headache." He frowned again. "I won't lie to you. I don't trust that my children can accomplish this."
"Really? I mean, Prince Callen is the second-best swordsman in the empire," the sorceress said, bringing her hand to her chin.
"And Princess Olivia is a master of spiritual technology—the best the empire has ever seen," the old man added.
"And both have failed spectacularly twice already." The King sighed. "I trust their abilities, but it seems the enemy is elusive."
The King stood up again, and both knelt.
"I want the entire Order of Mages and the Church of the Moon participating in the search. Any news must come directly to me. Understood?"
"Yes, my King," they both said in unison.
Olivia ran after her brother as soon as she managed to leave the room. Along the way, some servants and guards indicated the direction he had gone. Finally, she found him in the inner garden.
"Brother..."
"This was the last place I had a conversation with our sister. Before all this, I mean."
Olivia swallowed.
"Don't dwell on it so much. Zara will be fine. She's strong. Besides, anyone can be ambushed."
"Yes, I wanted to talk about that..." Callen looked her directly in the eyes. That empty gaze still remained, worrying Olivia. "There wasn't a third enemy. There were only two."
Olivia frowned.
"So the woman was the one who attacked you?" Olivia asked, raising an eyebrow. "She shouldn't be fast enough to surprise you like that."
Callen shook his head.
"No, sister. She's not fast enough." He brought his hand to his face, gripping the bridge of his nose. "It wasn't her either."
Now Olivia was completely confused. Callen seemed strange. She couldn't help but worry about him, but she didn't understand why he was like this.
"Do you remember what I said to Father?" Her brother's words echoed once more in her mind.
"What if Zara doesn't want to come with us?"
Those words began to spread through her mind like poison. Her eyes began to tremble just thinking about what her brother was implying.
"You can't be serious." Olivia approached Callen and grabbed him by the collar of his clothes. "She would never..." But in her brother's eyes, she found the confirmation she didn't want to accept.
"It was Zara. Zara was the one who struck me." As he said this, he looked out the window—a view his sister had always loved. He couldn't help but hold back some tears.
Thinking of her produced a mixture of emotions he hadn't expected to find—anger, rage, sadness. He had been betrayed by his own blood, and it hurt.
"We will pursue Zara and bring her back—even if we have to drag her by force," the prince said with certainty.