In the Cathedral
The wide courtyard of the cathedral buzzed with life. Villagers crowded the space, forming long, uneven lines as monks, nuns, priests, and acolytes handed out food and supplies with soft blessings. Among them were Berevreth and I, quietly joining the charity effort.
We had wrapped our heads in scarves — not because it was church custom, but because we were used to it. It was easier this way, avoiding curious stares… or perhaps recognition.
I had never been to a charity fair before. I'd only heard stories about them, noble, heartwarming, humbling. But to be honest… this wasn't where I wanted to be right now.
Helping people is good, yes—and their smiles brought a strange kind of warmth—but whether I was here or not, they'd still get their food anyway. I didn't see why Father Simon insisted I attend, especially after I told him I needed rest and privacy. But of course, peace is something he never allows me. He always said "a cheerful heart finds healing among the grateful," and that "light grows brighter when shared." Whatever that means.
"Here you go, bless you," Berevreth said gently, handing a sack of barley to a young woman who held her child close.
Just then, an old man came toward me where I sat beside her.
"Good day, sire," I greeted him with a soft smile.
He nodded, eyes glancing over the baskets behind me, each filled with food supplies.
"Which would you like?" I asked, gesturing toward them.
The old man squinted, leaning closer as if the choice required great wisdom. His finger hovering between the baskets, first the barley, then the wheat cake, then the apples__ he looked quite conflicted.
I waited, amused, the gentle smile never leaving my face.
"Can't quite make up your mind, eh?" I teased
He chuckled. "Ah, I hadn't realized how greedy the years have made me." A short laugh followed. "My grandson asked that I bring him wheat cakes, but his sister swore she'd disown me if I didn't pick barley. I didn't know we were meant to take only one."
As he spoke, an idea sparked in my mind. I glanced around, quickly, discreetly checking if anyone were watching.
"Maybe…" I whispered, pulling a small sack of barley and another of wheat cakes from behind me. "The heavens won't mind if we bend the rules a little for the sake of peace at home."
The man's eyes brightened. "You're too kind, child."
"Shh~," I hushed with a finger to my lips, smiling as he hurriedly stuffed one bag into the other to make them look like one.
While he adjusted the sacks, something on his wrist caught my attention, a faint making, drawn on it. It wasn't like the inked drawings of northern tribes, it was more like a burn mark shaped into a crossbow and spear.
"What's that?" I asked, curiosity immediately taking over.
"Oh, this?" He lifted his wrist proudly. "A mark of the Farrowen Guard. I used to lead the group back in the good days," he said, his eyes glinting and softening with memory of the past.
"We fought off bandits, smugglers, even raiders when they came from the coast."
" raiders?" I repeated.
He smiled and nodded. "Yes, the barbarians, smugglers… and once, a pack of Vikings some called them,Savage lot, but we sent them fleeing . The day we drived them out of the village, That battle, my dear, we celebrated for days." Then his smile deepened. "It was a Big celebration day, for not just us but the entire kingdom, it was also the day you were born, your highness."
I blinked. "You know me?" I asked startled as how he could recognize me even when i covered my hair.
He chuckled. "Isn't it obvious, Your Highness? That hair of yours would always give you away. No other soul in Aurelen bears such a shade."
My hand flew to my head. The scarf! It had come loose, tied only at the top, while the rest of my hair had fallen freely down my back. No wonder some villagers stared ealier, I'd assumed they were just admiring. If only Victoria were here, i taught__she never failed to tie it properly.
Then i turned sharply to Berevreth. "Berevreth," I whispered sharply. She turned at once, brows lifting.
"Didn't you see my hair's come loose?" I hissed, tugging at the scarf. "You didn't tell me!"
Her eyes widened, and for a moment she looked genuinely startled. "Oh, blast, I didn't notice." Then, with a cheeky grin, she added, "Well, in fairness, under this sun, it's glowing look like a torch at a night vigil. I'm surprised half the village hasn't mistaken you for a holy apparition."
I gave her a flat look. "Very helpful, thank you."
"Dont mention" she replied as i rolled my eyes and turned back, only to find out, the old man was already gone.
A different man now stood before me, bowing slightly. "Your Highness," he greeted politely.
I froze. Your Highness again? Had they been calling me that the whole time and I simply hadn't heard?I looked around quickly, hoping to spot the old man one last time, perhaps to bid him proper fare well. But he had vanished into the crowd. A small hint of disappointment tugged at me, he had been rather intresting to talk to.
Just then again, i saw it,
Beyond the courtyard, past the line of oaks and the quiet sway of the woods, it stood there again. The entity. Watching. My heart slowed, my gaze fixed, as i taught, Is it really Asvran? If it is, why does he keep calling me?
Even though Berevreth had called him dangerous, something in me wanted to see him again. The Demon Knight had haunted my thoughts since that night. Now that I knew his name... his story, perhaps I could face him properly. Or even… thank him.
I thought, the idea growing stronger the longer I stared.
Slowly, I rose to my feet, my curiosity finally winning over reason.
---
I followed the entity, paving my way through the crowd, slipping past the villagers without drawing attention. The farther I went, the fewer people there were, until I found myself walking down a narrow, forgotten path at the side of the cathedral. The trees thickened as I went, their roots rising from the earth like sleeping serpents. Branches rushing against my arms, some gripping at my sleeve until a small tear appeared. I hissed softly under my breath but kept going anyway, my curiosity far stronger than reason.
The path curved into a part of the church grounds I'd never seen before. Moss grew on top of stones, and the atmosphere felt quiet, the air filled with the smell of pine and wet earth And then__I stepped into a wide, open field.
It was nothing like I'd imagined. Tall oaks and elm trees, surrounded the place, and small stone buildings stood here and there, maybe training rooms or armour shes perhaps, whatever it was it looked ancient and unique. On the wide field was Wooden dummies lined the ground, their straw bodies cut and torn from sword practice. In the distance, from a distance i could hear the clang of metal hitting mental, it seems some knight were training.
In time i realized with a slow, rising awe that I must be in the Sanctum Knight's grounds. But how had I come here without crossing the arch bridge? The entity must have led me through some hidden way known only to them.
Then, two men walked across the yard, speaking quietly as they passed, Immediately i ducked behind one of the buildings, peeking carefully . The men wore no armor, just plain tunics and loose trousers, their hair wet with sweat as if from training. They laughed like ordinary men, one shoving the other playfully on the shoulder. For a moment, I just stared, surprised. I had always imagined the Sanctum Knights as larger-than-life figure, saints in steel, stiff and more legend than human, but right now, their voices were casual, their laughter easy. Seeing them so human made me almost smile.
But the moment didn't last. From the corner of my eye, I spotted another group approaching, these ones fully were armored, their swords gleaming at their sides. My breath hitched.
Panic surged. I glanced around wildly, searching for a place to hide. Just then, I spotted a small doorway at the side of the building I crouched behind. Without thinking, I ran toward it, pushed the door open, and slipped inside.
The door slammed shut louder than I intended, the sound echoing through the quiet room. My heart froze.
Then, I spotted a small door just beside where I was hiding. Without thinking twice, I hurried toward it, grabbed the handle, and slipped inside. The door slammed shut behind me with a loud bang!—louder than I meant, loud enough to wake the dead.
"Who's there?" a voice called out sharply.
My hands flew to my mouth as if that could erase the noise. I froze on the spot, not daring to breathe, my heart hammering like a drum. Their heavy footsteps grew closer, the clank of steel armour ringing with every step. I took a tiny step backward, eyes squeezed shut, silently promising to never be curious again if I somehow lived through this.
Just as the steps neared the door, they stopped.
"Wait," said one of them—a blonde man, his tone uncertain.
Through a thin crack in the wooden door, I peeked at them. The other knight frowned, clearly puzzled.
"What?" he asked, glancing at the door as if he couldn't quite figure out why his companion had stopped when they'd both heard the same noise.