The morning sun rose above the towers of Althra, casting a warm glow over the palace courtyard. The clang of metal echoed through the air as swords met once more in practice. Sir Aldren's movements were precise and powerful, while the young hero's strikes—though still rough—had begun to show discipline and strength.
The sound of their blades rang like silver bells across the courtyard until, finally, Aldren stepped back and lowered his sword.
"That's enough for today," the knight said, his breath steady despite the intensity of the sparring. "You've improved. Your stance no longer wavers."
The hero smiled faintly, wiping sweat from his brow. "Guess I'm finally getting used to it."
Aldren gave a short nod. "Keep that pace, and you'll be ready before the next moon."
The hero sheathed his sword but hesitated before speaking again. "Sir Aldren… can I ask you something?"
The knight looked at him, curious. "Go on."
"It's about the Queen. Or… the Priestess," the hero said slowly. "I've seen her many times now, but… I've never seen her eyes. She always wears that veil. Even during audiences, even when she walks among her people. Why is that?"
Aldren's expression changed slightly—his usual composure faltering just a bit. "Ah," he said quietly, "you noticed."
"So it's not just me," the hero continued. "She hides them completely. Even when she's close, you can't see anything through the gold mesh of her veil."
"That is because," Aldren said after a moment, "the Queen wears something beneath it—a golden mask. The veil merely covers the mask itself."
The hero blinked in surprise. "A mask? She wears a mask under that?"
"Yes," Aldren replied. "It is said that the mask was given to her by the High Priest who raised her. She has never once removed it in public—not even before her knights or captains."
The hero frowned. "But… why? Does it have something to do with her power?"
Aldren sighed and looked toward the horizon. "That, I cannot answer. I have served Her Majesty for over twenty years, and I've never seen what lies beneath the veil. The only ones who might know the truth are the priestesses of the Church—those who keep the oldest memories of her past."
At that, the hero's thoughts immediately turned to Lulu, the young priestess he had spoken to before.
When training ended, the hero bowed to Aldren and said, "Thank you for the lesson, Sir Aldren. I think I'll visit the church again today."
Aldren gave him a knowing look. "Curiosity can be a dangerous habit, hero," he said quietly. "But… sometimes, it's the only way to see the truth."
---
The Church of the First Sun was quieter than usual when the hero arrived. The sound of his footsteps echoed across the marble floor as he entered. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, painting patterns of blue and gold upon the ground.
He spotted Lulu near the altar once more, arranging small offerings of lightstones and flowers. When she noticed him, she smiled gently.
"Hero," she greeted. "You've come again. Are you searching for more answers?"
The hero nodded. "Yeah. There's something I need to know. It's about the Queen… and her eyes."
Lulu paused, her expression turning thoughtful. "Her eyes?"
"I've never seen them," he said. "Sir Aldren told me she wears a golden mask under her veil. He said that maybe the Church knows why."
The young priestess hesitated, glancing toward the towering statue of the goddess that loomed above them. For a moment, it seemed she was deciding whether or not to speak. Finally, she said softly, "That story is very old. Even among the clergy, only a few still remember it."
"I want to hear it," the hero said firmly.
Lulu nodded slowly, then motioned for him to sit beside the altar. Her voice dropped to a near whisper.
"It happened before she ever became a priestess," Lulu began. "When the Queen was still a child—an ordinary girl—she was only eleven years old. Her father was a scholar who studied ancient magic, and her mother was a healer of great skill. They lived far from the capital, near the border where the barriers between realms are thin."
The hero listened intently, his eyes fixed on her.
"One day," Lulu continued, "a rift opened in the sky above their home. A creature from another realm emerged—a being of chaos and shadow. It destroyed everything it touched. Even the royal knights couldn't stand against it. But she didn't run."
"She faced it?" the hero asked in disbelief.
Lulu nodded. "She was just a child, but she had a power unlike any other. Some say it was divine magic, others say it was the will of the gods themselves. She used that power to destroy the creature—banishing it back to its realm and sealing the rift behind it."
The hero's eyes widened. "At eleven years old?"
"Yes," Lulu said softly. "But when she returned home, she was no longer the same. Her father saw her eyes… and they were no longer human."
The hero's heart pounded. "What do you mean?"
"No one knows what he truly saw," Lulu replied. "Some say her eyes burned like the sun, others that they reflected the void itself. Whatever the truth, her father was terrified. He sewed her eyes shut with his own hands, believing she had become cursed by the other realm."
The hero sat in stunned silence. "That's… awful."
Lulu lowered her gaze. "After that, the priests of the temple found her wandering near the ruins of her home. They took her in, healed her, and made her a novice priestess. To protect her—and perhaps to hide what her father had done—they gave her a golden mask. The veil she wears now is a remnant of that time."
The hero swallowed hard. "So… everyone in the Church knows about her eyes?"
"Only the highest among us," Lulu said. "But even we do not speak of it openly. It is one of the few truths history still remembers."
The hero frowned. "And yet, no one knows what she achieved to become Queen?"
Lulu gave a faint, sad smile. "That is the irony, isn't it? The world remembers her suffering, but not her triumph."
The hero stood slowly, the weight of her words heavy in his chest. "Thank you, Lulu. I… I didn't expect to hear that."
She bowed her head slightly. "Sometimes, the greatest miracles begin with tragedy. Perhaps that is why the Queen hides her eyes—not out of shame, but out of remembrance."
The hero nodded, silent for a long moment. Then, with a quiet farewell, he left the church.
Outside, the evening sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of crimson and gold. He made his way back to his quarters in the palace, his thoughts swirling.
A child who sealed a creature from another realm. Eyes too divine—or too terrible—for mortals to see. A mask to hide what remained.
And still… no record of her greatest achievement.
As night fell over the Eternal Kingdom, the hero sat by his window once more, looking toward the shining palace in the distance.
"The more I learn about you," he murmured, "the more impossible you become."
The moonlight glimmered across the city like liquid silver, and somewhere beyond that serene beauty, the shadows of war continued to grow.