Endiáthetos couldn't believe his eyes. His father, a Dnophos hunter? Him, who never left the palace during his lifetime, the prince was skeptical. His eyelids were heavy; he was exhausted. But curiosity overcame tiredness, and he couldn't resist the urge to flip through the pages.

He read a few more "chapters" and then came to the fateful moment, the ambush.

February 26

I surely won't find sleep tonight; the day was rich in emotions.

At dusk, as planned, Kyneos and I set out for the Dnophos' camp. We took extreme precautions not to be noticed, such as covering ourselves in mud for the scent and walking very slowly to avoid making noise. When we arrived there, Kyneos immediately climbed a tree. Then, she settled on a very sturdy branch. She raised her arms, and flames of an impressive height surrounded their camp.

She cleared a path for us through the flames, and we entered the circle.

One of their elders (he seemed ancient) tried to attack us. Kyneos carbonized him without hesitation. The others didn't attempt anything after that. They followed us without asking questions, as expected.

We arrived shortly after at the castle. They lined up, and Kyneos burned them all in front of their loved ones. Surprisingly, some of them had a human form, but their eyes... Their eyes seemed to glow; it was terrifying.

The process was almost over; only two creatures were still alive. I ordered the one on the right to come forward; she was in her monster form. Kyneos pulverized her slowly. A few seconds before agony, a cloud of dust emanated from her. I heard a scream, and then a force threw us backward. Before losing consciousness, I thought I recognized in the carbonized Dnophos someone I never thought I'd see again: my deceased wife.

Even if it was her, I lost consciousness immediately. I would prefer to have dreamt it, but everything is confused in my head; I don't know what's true or false anymore.

A guard who had heard the detonation came to our aid shortly after. We were moved to the infirmary and treated for the superficial wounds we had incurred.

Once on our feet, Kyneos expressed her desire to leave; I didn't stop her. She left us after retrieving her reward and equipment.

Endiáthetos quickly closed the journal, his heart pounding. He collapsed on his soft bed and closed his eyes. Before falling asleep, he murmured:

"I have to find her."

The next day, Endiáthetos was crowned.

The heavy purple cloak hung on Endiáthetos' shoulders. Tension filled the room. Only the clinking of guards' armor and the rustle of noble's clothing as they bowed filled the space. No one spoke, all were anxious.

The trauma of the Feast Carnage was still fresh in everyone's minds. Endiáthetos wasn't supposed to become king. Everyone was aware of that. If they were all gathered here today, it was because something unfortunate had happened to the royal family. Sadness overshadowed the joy and excitement of a coronation. Astós was the favorite; Endiá was just a shadow. He was weak, fearful, and resentful. To the court, he was just a jester who stole the missing prince's place. But someone had to lead the country until the heir returned.

Endiá walked, looking straight ahead, to avoid the crowd's hateful and sorrowful gazes. The master of ceremonies, the palace's highest-ranking guard, raised his hands to the sky and asked the guests to sit.

The young prince knelt and bowed his head. His dark blond hair fell into his eyes. The man standing in front of him spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today we are gathered here for a very special event: the coronation of Endiáthetos Basileus. Despite the particular circumstances of his appointment, we must recognize him as the legitimate sovereign, at least until the return of his highness Astós."

The man lightly tapped the flat of his sword on the prince's shoulder.

"Endiáthetos Basileus, do you accept the responsibilities that come with the title of king?"

"I accept," replied Endiáthetos.

"Do you promise to do everything in the kingdom's interest and protect its inhabitants?"

"I promise."

Endiá shuddered under the weight of the crown placed on his head. He rose to his feet and turned to face his audience. The crowd bowed deeply. As they rose, they politely applauded. The king could see hesitation on their faces. He spoke with an upbeat tone.

"Let the festivities begin!"

Smiles appeared on some faces; food really did bring people together.

***

Astós anxiously knocked on the wooden door of the old shack. While waiting for a response, he glanced at Palaïós, Sklerótes, and Maximus; an Heir they had recently recruited. They were now in a village in the middle of nowhere. With the owner not responding, Astós impatiently asked.

"Hey, Max! Are you sure this is the place?"

"Yes, I'm sure," he affirmed. "I'm convinced she lives here. My cousin, she used to live here with her mother."

"Your cousin, right?" ventured Palaïós.

"Yes."

"Are you sure they were Heirs?" asked Sklerótes in her human form.

"Yes, I'm almost certain. Mom was an Heir, but from what you've told me, she was already..." (He swallowed a sob).

Astós placed a comforting hand on the boy's back and gently massaged him. He resumed shortly after.

"But I remember we used to pretend, Korè and I, that we were siblings because of our eyes. Our mothers had the same ones, so exactly, I think they are."

"Speaking of Heirs," Sklerótes began. "I forgot to ask you a fundamental question, Astós." (She looked up, intrigued). "Since you're eighteen, I assume your Kaiô has already manifested. Now I still don't know what your Ara is. I don't want you to take risks during the quest, during the energy communication..."

Astós chuckled.

"So you're worried about me?"

"Answer," grumbled Sklerótes.

"Yes, we're interested!" added Maximus.

He sighed.

"I think my Ara is that the fire I produce burns me," he confessed. "My skin melts as soon as I create a little flame. Last time I used the Kaiô, it took me two weeks before I no longer felt the pain in my palms. And I still have traces..."

Maximus looked horrified; his Ara was nothing compared to the prince's. Not being able to make fire with his right side was a gentle dream compared to the horrible pain of a burn.

Sklerótes quickly took Astós' hands in hers. She turned them over to see the inside. She gasped in horror at their condition, completely melted, all smooth, pink, without any folds. The woman asked for Palaïós' expertise, who squinted for a moment before stepping back and delivering a verdict.

"Burned."

Astós pulled disdainfully away from Sklerótes' grip.

"Yes, thank you, I already knew that. And besides, it's nothing, the pain goes away with a little balm," he said. I promise, I feel good, I'm alright. It's only a bit of burned skin. Take it easy."

"No, it's not nothing, and I won't take it easy, man!" Sklerótes exclaimed. "I don't want you to end up as a charred marshmallow!"

"That's too cute, you're worried about me!" the prince mocked.

"You're my nephew, my sister's son, do you think I'm going to let you die like that?" she defended.

"It didn't stop you from sucking the blood of my brothers and sisters," he grumbled.

"They're not your brothers and sisters, your father is scum. Ask the blonde servant, you know, the one who's always with him."

"Wait, what?" Astós horrified.

"Oh, gossip, we love it!" said Palaïós and Maximus at the same time.

Astós was about to reply, but someone called them from behind. A man in his twenties was walking towards them, carrying bundles of wood on his shoulder.

"Hello!" he greeted the group. "Can I help you?"

"Hello, sir, my name is Maximus, I'm looking for a certain Korè, she used to live here a long time ago, I'm her cousin. I'd like to know if she still does; perhaps you can enlighten me?" he said, stepping forward.

"Yes, of course! I'm her husband, for now, she's gone for a walk in the fields with her friends; she shouldn't be long. Would you like some tea? It seems you've come from afar," the man offered.

"Yes, I'd love some," agreed Maximus. "It's true; we've come a long way. Thank you for your hospitality."

They entered the house quietly. Max noticed that the decoration hadn't changed (or almost) in ten years. Only the photos were different.

"Do you need help?" asked Astós, feeling uncomfortable just standing there while the man worked alone.

"That wouldn't be refused!" he said cheerfully. "I could use someone to tend the fire if possible."

"At your service, sir!" said the prince cheerfully.

"Can I help too?" asked Max.

"Yes, of course, can you peel potatoes?"

"Yes, I can do that!"

Everyone was busy, inside, outside, no one was idle. The man (named Nerthe) was bustling around the stove, accompanied by his brother-in-law when the front door slammed shut.

"I'm home, darling!"