Solace's P.O.V
The parchment felt ancient, but the words were a living pulse against my fingertips.
Our Solace, it began. The way they wrote my name felt like a physical touch. They spoke of being by my side, of hugging me in the dark, and of being my strength when the world grew cold. You are our little soldier in the middle of the winter.
A sob broke from my chest, raw and jagged. I had spent years thinking I was a mistake, an anomaly found in the woods, only to discover I was a daughter loved so deeply that they had planned for my survival even as their world ended. I mourned for them—for the mother and father fate had stolen from me.
As my tears hit the paper, I panicked, watching the ink begin to blur. But the fading wasn't a loss; it was a transformation. Before my eyes, the ink swirled into a shimmering image. A woman stood tall in glorious silks, a crown resting delicately on her brow. Beside her was a man who radiated a quiet, formidable power, his own crown catching the light. They were magnificent.
They were royalty. They were mine. They are the one who I came from. To whom I inherited the power I possess. A parents I wasn't able to hug nor kiss. With tears trickling down I leaned down, pressing a desperate kiss to the image before it flickered and vanished back into the grain of the paper. Looking up at the infinite night sky, I clutched the letter to my heart and smiled through the salt of my tears. For the first time in my life, I wasn't just Solace the outcast, the weapon of the kingdom.
I was Solace of Thera.
The sun hadn't yet broken the horizon when we broke camp. The map Evander gave me pointed us toward the most isolated reaches of the forest—of all places it is where the trees grew so thick they seemed to swallow the light. I felt a surge of adrenaline as I mounted my own horse.
Thankfully, I didn't have to share a saddle with Alaric today; after the emotional wreckage of last night, I needed the distance. I don't want another distraction during the ride. The last encounter with him left me restless throughout the night. The feeling and sensation wouldn't let me sleep. It clung to me like a perfume that lasted forever.
When I had returned to the fire last night, red-eyed and drained, Evander had offered me a look of such profound worry that I could only manage a small, tired nod to let him know I was still standing.
As we rode, the gravity of our situation began to set in. Through the Captain's allies and Evander's scouting eagle, the news from Aevum reached us: the King had finally descended into a true, hollow-eyed tyranny. He had driven his people to the brink and turned his fury even on the Queen.
It was the Queen who had sent Alaric into the night, begging him to seek help from neighbouring kingdoms before the King's madness consumed everything. But the King had learned of the betrayal. Now, his legions were scouring the borders, and he had done the unthinkable—he had placed a bounty on the heads of the "prodigy" and his own son. He was hunting his own heir like a common criminal. A true madman would only do such thing.
Alaric was silent the entire ride, and after learning the news he had gone out for an air.
"Go with him," I ordered to one knight who was closely following behind me. With a bow, he instantly pulled his reins and followed Alaric.
With the news spreading like fire, the neighbouring kingdoms were already sealing their gates, terrified that the King's instability would spark a continental war. Every fortress was on high alert, checking everyone who approached. We were truly on our own, caught between a mad King's army and the hidden path to a dead kingdom.
But as I looked at the map tucked into my bag, I didn't feel like a fugitive. I felt like a homecoming queen returning to a throne of ghosts.