?? Chapter 2: The Dusk of Truth

  Achiry walked through the palace halls, clutching the scrolls in her hands. She headed toward the royal kitchen, as if searching for something—or someone.

  Upon arriving, her eyes scanned the room until they landed on a red-haired girl with green eyes. Achiry pointed at her and spoke firmly:

  “You. Come here. I need to speak with you.”

  The girl approached hesitantly, her steps slow, avoiding eye contact. Once they were in a more private space, Achiry’s tone softened.

  “Rumors say you were an Ushia on your planet. And you know neither of us can hide our foreign appearance… So tell me, are the rumors true?”

  The girl looked away, frowning.

  “I used to belong to the Ushia Gut order… but not anymore. They’re merciless. All they want is power. And if this Zhiary All has completed two trials… they’re close to their goal.”

  Achiry nodded, accepting the truth.

  “Then… you know the prophecy?”

  For the first time, the girl met Achiry’s gaze.

  “I know it. And I know there are many prophecies—each tied to the religion of the people and the planet where they want to plant it.”

  Achiry closed her eyes briefly and sighed. Her voice came out like a plea.

  “Then you could go north… I need to know if Zhiary All already controls the masses there.”

  The girl rubbed her nose and nodded.

  “Alright. But if he’s taken the south… the north will be easier.”

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  Achiry was startled by the response.

  “Why would the north be easier to control?”

  The girl sighed, as if recalling painful memories.

  “Because the north knew the prophecy before the Fhercon invasion. That makes them the most religious. They’ll kneel before Zhiary All once they hear he’s passed two of the five trials.”

  Achiry swallowed hard and stepped back. Her people had also known the prophecy before the invasion.

  “I see… so it’s part of their history.”

  The girl nodded.

  “Yes.” She paused, waiting for Achiry to speak. “So… when do I leave?”

  Achiry hesitated, placing a hand on her chin.

  “I don’t know… maybe tomorrow.”

  She sighed, locking eyes with the girl.

  “I know it’s drastic.” Her voice cracked. “But I do it for the people.”

  The girl nodded and sighed too.

  “I understand. It’s for our loved ones.”

  Achiry turned toward the window.

  “Yes. For our loved ones.”

  She stepped back.

  “Nothing more to say. I’ll take my leave.”

  The red-haired girl nodded and walked away. Achiry remained in the hallway, heading toward the palace garden. She heard birds chirping nearby and smiled faintly—their presence gave her hope.

  “We have time. I know we have time,” she whispered.

  Her gaze fell to her hands, and suddenly a flashback struck—her hands once covered in blood. But not innocent blood. She looked away, her hands trembling, eyes brimming with tears.

  Just then, a servant arrived.

  “Excuse me, a bearer of light awaits you in the White Court.”

  Achiry feigned composure, though her trembling hands betrayed her.

  “I’ll be there shortly,” she replied calmly.

  She walked toward the White Court with firm steps, haunted by her past. Upon arrival, she saw the messenger waiting.

  “You came,” he said, concerned.

  Achiry nodded, sensing the tone in his voice. Her hands trembled even more.

  “Well? Are you from the north or the south?” she asked, trying to steady herself.

  The messenger noticed but didn’t comment. He spoke:

  “Zhiary All has taken the entire north. The tribes there are ready to die for this ‘messiah.’”

  Achiry stepped back, unable to control her trembling.

  “No… no…” She swallowed hard. “It can’t be.”

  She raised her voice.

  “TELL ME! Is it true?”

  The messenger was startled by her outburst. After a pause, he nodded.

  “Yes, it’s true.” He waited for her to calm. “I’ll take my leave, your grace.”

  Achiry was left alone in the silent chamber. She murmured to herself, pacing, clenching her fists until her knuckles turned white.

  “If Zhiary All has taken the north… he’s coming for us.”

  She dropped to her knees, pleading to her gods, eyes lifted to the ornate ceiling.

  “I need time… just a little more time.”

  Her voice was a desperate prayer.