Elie rushed out into the palace hallway, quickly looking for a familiar face. Then her eyes spotted the palace cook, a short man with a black beard despite his old age.
"Hey... Uncle Stein!" Elie shouted towards him.
Stein turned towards Elie and saw her rushing towards him. She didn't look like her usual self; she was like a mother who had lost her son.
Stein replied, "What's wrong, Elie?"
she stopped in front of him, grabbed his shoulders while panting from exhaustion, and spoke quickly, "Go now to King Orestos and tell him that Neva has gotten the key."
Stein stood still, not understanding what Elie had said. Finally, he spoke, "What do you mean she has the key? Catch your breath a little and tell me."
"Do I look like I have time for this? Just do what I told you, and quickly, please!"
After that, Elie hurried off to the left side of the palace where the stairs to the lower hallway. were he stood watching her in shock, until he finally snapped out of it.
"I have to do what she told me right now, but where do I find the King first?"
King Orestos was sitting with his wife Mira and their son Elios in the palace garden, sharing memories. Mira was the one talking, with a sincere smile on her face.
"I remember when you were born, you were always quiet and didn't cry like other babies. We even thought you were dead at first. I remember the doctor hit you five times on your bottom before you cried."
She continued while everyone was laughing.
"Your father, out of joy that you were alive, told a joke in the middle of the doctors. Do you know what he said?"
Elios looked surprised, though a smile never left his face.
"What did he say?"
Mira burst out laughing until tears fell from her eyes. After a few failed attempts to speak because of her laughter, the words finally came out in pieces.
"He said... my son... my son is... the Iron-bottomed one!"
Elios laughed a little, with some embarrassment. Then his mother continued, laughing.
"Do you know what was funny about it? That joke was very bad, but everyone laughed because he was the King... except for your cousin, who told him it was cringe."
Elios replied with a wide grin on his face, "That must have been Claros."
Mira nodded her head and kept laughing, while Orestos fell to the ground laughing. Elios and Mira soon followed.
After a comfortable silence fell between them for a few minutes, Mira finally spoke.
"We should do this more. I mean, us as a family, and Neva too, sitting together in the garden and talking until we get bored. We don't get many chances to do this."
Orestos replied, smiling, "Yes, we can set aside a day for it every week. Since today is Thursday, let's make it every Thursday."
Both Elios and his mother nodded. Then everyone started counting the stars, and in their hearts was only one wish: for this moment to last forever. But nothing lasts forever.
A shout came from behind them. It was the cook, Stein.
"Sir, my King... Sir, my King! It's Neva!"
Everyone stood up quickly and turned towards Stein, surprised. Orestos's voice came first.
"What happened to Neva?"
Mira interrupted him and grabbed Stein's arm. "What happened to my daughter? Is she okay?"
Stein sighed a little, then answered as if he was afraid of what he was saying, even though he didn't even know its full meaning.
"Neva has taken the key."
"What! How did that happen? It was hidden!" Orestos shouted at Stein.
Stein replied, even more afraid, "I... I don't know, sir. Elie followed her."
Orestos's expression changed from anger to surprise.
"Elie...Why didn't she come here?"
But Orestos wasn't waiting for an answer; he was talking to himself. Mira looked at Orestos and told him, "Don't worry, they will both be okay."
Elios had already started running towards the left side of the palace. Luckily, the garden was close to it. Elios shouted to his parents, "Come on, quickly! We can't waste time!"
Then his parents followed him.
At that time, Elie had reached the stairs. The stairs were newly built, their steps clean and straight with polished edges, but the darkness that swallowed the bottom turned their beauty into a mystery that felt heavy on the chest. The place was unnaturally still, silent to a degree that made one feel uneasy.
"Did Neva really pass through here?"
Elie thought as she held onto the wall, walking quickly but carefully so she wouldn't fall, her thoughts entirely on Neva.
"Please be okay.
While thoughts raced in her head, she missed a step, causing her to lose her balance and fall. She kept tumbling until she landed directly in front of the cellar door. A dark wooden door, reinforced with black iron, with a heavy metal ring in the center. Despite its sturdiness and newness, it gave off a suffocating feeling, as if it was hiding a dark secret behind it.
"Ouch, my back... But at least I got here faster."
The door was locked from the inside with the key, as if Neva didn't want anyone to enter after her and interrupt. Elie tried to push it, but the door didn't budge. It was foolish of Elie to try pushing a door designed to contain a monster inside when locked.
It seemed there was no way to open the door—or rather, no normal way to open it. Elie stopped, then closed her eyes and opened them again, like someone accepting that there was no other choice.
"How ironic. I guess I have to summon you."
On the other side of the door, Neva was holding a torch and wandering through the cellar. It was an underground maze, with storage rooms for supplies, wine barrels, sealed chests, and also rooms with chains and locks suggesting it had once been a prison or a place for torture.
Neva walked, her other hand holding her head from the strength of the alcohol's smell. Her torchlight only illuminated what was directly in front of her and a little around her. She tripped over something and fell.
"Oww... that hurt."
It was a torture whip that had made her fall.
"Did my father have slaves,or was this for something else?"
Suddenly, Neva heard a rustling sound coming from nearby. She followed the sound until she saw a prison cell. Inside was a slender creature with dark, cracked skin. Its eyes were a whirlpool of shadows, and its fingers were long, ending in sharp claws. A tattered scarf surrounded it like a living shadow, accompanied by a silence and coldness that suggested something was draining the life from souls near it.
It was the Thief. Its frightening appearance would make anyone afraid or disgusted, especially a ten-year-old. But not Neva. All that showed on her face was admiration and wonder. She approached it, raised the torch towards its face, and said:
"Hello, you."