The next morning Zehron wrote a short letter and gently tied it to the leg of a bird. He gave the bird a small kiss, then released it into the sky, watching as it flew higher and higher. Now, he waits patiently, hoping for a reply to come back with it.
-----
The sun casts a gentle glow over the crates and tarps of the busy dockyard. The air is filled with the usual clatter of tools and murmurs of workers, but in one quiet corner, Zehron sits alone.
A folded cloth reveals a modest meal on his lap. He eats silently, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable. Orien and Vaelen are nowhere in sight.
He breaks a piece of bread and places it on his open palm. A small flock of birds gathers near his feet, chirping softly.
Without a word, Zehron extends his hand, allowing the birds to peck at the bread.
One particularly bold bird hops onto his forearm. He doesn't react—only watches in silence, a faint breath escaping his lips.
AYTHEA SYLMARA, flanked by two guards, stops a short distance away. She watches him quietly for a moment, her brows slightly raised, as if surprised.
Zehron notices the gaze. He calmly sets down his bread, wipes his fingers with the edge of the cloth, and rises slowly. He bows.
ZEHRON
....
AYTHEA
You're alone today.
ZEHRON
It seems so.
She steps forward, tilting her head slightly.
AYTHEA
I didn't expect to find you entertaining birds during lunch.
ZEHRON
.....
They asked for nothing, yet kept me company.
She smiles faintly at that.
AYTHEA
You say that like you envy them.
ZEHRON
They don't carry the weight of duty, nor words that bind them.
There's a pause.
AYTHEA
Still... they can fly.
Zehron doesn't respond
A bird flutters up and lands on his shoulder briefly, then takes off.
Aythea folds her hands behind her back.
AYTHEA
You speak so little. Is silence your armor?
ZEHRON
No armor. Only peace.
She watches him quietly, eyes searching.
AYTHEA
You don't strike me as someone who enjoys crowds.
ZEHRON
I endure them.
AYTHEA
And what about noble ladies with guards?
He glances at her for a brief moment.
ZEHRON
They're harder to ignore.
That earns a small, amused smile from her. One of her guards tries to hide a smirk.
AYTHEA
I see.
A brief pause.
AYTHEA
Well... do continue. The birds seem to miss you already.
She nods once and turns to leave. Zehron bows again, his posture composed as always. As she walks away, a small bird pecks at the bread near his boot.
He sits back down, breaks another piece, and without a word, lets the silence settle once more.
Aythea walks just a few steps away before suddenly halting.
Zehron, still seated, senses her presence pause. He slowly looks up at her.
She turns back, her voice calling out—not loud, but enough to cut through the hum of the docks.
AYTHEA
"You."
Zehron stands up again with composed grace, brushing crumbs off his palms.
ZEHRON
Yes, my lady?
A beat of silence.
AYTHEA
Have we… ever met before? Other than this place?
His calm gaze meets hers.
ZEHRON
No, my lady. I don't believe so.
Aythea studies his face for a moment, something unreadable passing through her eyes. Then, without another word, she turns and walks away, her guards silently following.
Zehron watches her go for a moment, then quietly sits back down, returning to his meal and the birds that still linger near his feet.
A few workers nearby, chewing on their lunch, lean in with lowered voices but just loud enough for Zehron to hear.
"That lady again?"
"Who was that, huh? Didn't look like anyone from around here."
" Noble, for sure. You saw the way she held herself and with all those bodyguards?"
" I've seen all the noble daughters from our clan. She's not one of them."
" Could be a noble from another clan… maybe here on personal matters?"
(skeptical)
" Tch, why would a noble from another clan wander down here? And speak to a dockhand? And...how many times has this been"
(grinning and nudging the others)
" Maybe she came for him."
They all glance at Zehron.
(mock whisper)
"Look at him—pretty enough to hang on a noble's arm. Maybe she wants him as her concubine?"
Snickers ripple through them. One of them chuckles.
"Wouldn't blame her. Face like his could make even a priestess trip. But is he all face or...does he even know other skills as well?"
(Gives a smirking look to the other dockworkers and laughs in unison)
Zehron doesn't react. He continues eating with that same still, unreadable calm.
A bird hops on his knee and chirps. He gently offers a crumb to it.
The mocking laughter fades when none of them get a rise out of him.
Zehron sits still, eyes slightly narrowed at the fading figure of the noblewoman in the distance.
_Solea Estate_
The walls of the chamber were lined with ancient weapons and banners of the Velmoryn clan—deep crimson and obsidian-black, stitched with silver thread that shimmered under the torchlight. A large circular table sat at the center, carved with maps of the surrounding regions and clan territories.
Lord Aldric Solea stood tall, his gauntlets still dusted from morning combat drills, his voice steady but firm. His dark eyes scanned the group of armored men and women seated before him—commanders, tacticians, and couriers—each holding a leather-bound dossier.
Aldric Solea:
"The Vebong Clan has begun reinforcing their borders near the Erydnic trench. If that isn't a silent threat, then I've forgotten how to read a war map."
A man to his left, one of the younger tacticians, nervously flipped through his documents.
Tactician Veldar:
"They claim it's for protection against border raids, my lord. Their envoy says it's a defensive action."
Aldric gave a soft, humorless chuckle.
Aldric Solea:
"They must think we were born yesterday."
He slammed his gauntleted fist lightly on the table—not out of rage, but to draw sharp attention.
Aldric Solea:
"Inform the eastern outpost to double their scouts. I want hawks in the sky by dawn. If they so much as breathe too far east, I'll ensure they choke on it."
Another voice, older and seasoned, leaned forward—Commander Draevis, a long-time ally.
Commander Taka:
"What of the Landari Clan, my lord? They've remained neutral far too long. And yet… whispers say their heir has been frequenting the outer sectors."
Aldric's eyes narrowed slightly, the flicker of calculation behind them.
Aldric Solea:
"If the Landari heir walks too close to the storm, let her. The less they know of our movements, the better. What concerns me is the absence of the Myyrnii delegation at Vaelyrion's last summon."
A brief silence passed over the room. No one dared question his conclusions. He turned his gaze toward a courier just arriving, a scroll in his hand.
Aldric Solea:
"Well? Speak."
Courier:
"Word from Vaelyrion Hold, my lord. A gathering may be called sooner than expected. They speak of… signs. Omens."
Aldric's jaw tightened. He slowly sat back down, the room falling into an even colder quiet.
Aldric Solea:
"The gods always choose inconvenient times to remember us."
He steepled his fingers.
Aldric Solea:
"We prepare. No matter how soon. I want all clan heir movements tracked—especially those from our own bloodline."
The room murmured in agreement.
_Elvienne's Room – Late Afternoon_
Golden light filters through the sheer curtains, dancing across the parchment on Elvienne's desk. She sits by the open window, her quill moving gently. On the perch beside her, the small bird Zehron had sent rests quietly, pecking its feathers.
She looks at the bird and smiles softly.
Elvienne (whispering):
"He's always so quiet… even in letters."
She dips the quill again and continues writing on the small paper scroll.
Elvienne (writing):
"Zehron,
I saw a dream last night.
We were under a great tree… tall and glowing. I saw you there, and I saw myself… holding a baby. She was ours, Zehron. She looked just like you. Your eyes… your smile… so peaceful in my arms.
It felt so real. I could hear myself singing to her. I could feel her tiny fingers…
I woke up crying, not out of sadness… but from the weight of how much I long for it to be true.
Sometimes, I wonder if dreams show us the things our hearts hide too well.
I want that life. With you. A quiet place. A child of our own.
Is it too much to ask, to want forever with someone who barely speaks?
Still… I'll wait for every word you choose to say.
—E"
She gently rolls the paper and ties it with a ribbon. Then, leaning close to the bird, she strokes its feathers.
Elvienne:
"Take this to him, little one. And tell him… I dreamed of love."
She opens the window wider, and the bird flaps its wings, soaring into the sky.
Elvienne watches it go, eyes soft with hope.
The soft flutter of wings fades into the sky. Elvienne keeps her gaze on the horizon, a slight smile on her lips—until—
SLAM!
The door swings open without warning.
Lord Solea steps in, his sharp eyes scanning the room. Elvienne gasps and quickly rushes to the window, closing it in a panic.
Lord Solea (coolly, eyes narrowing) :
"You seem startled."
Elvienne keeps her back turned, trying to calm her breathing.
Elvienne (softly):
"You didn't knock."
He steps further in, voice calm but edged with command.
Lord Solea:
"In two days, you will attend the gathering at Vaelyrion Hold. All nobles of Velmoryn will be present. Your appearance is expected."
She slowly turns to face him, shaken but trying to steady herself.
Elvienne:
"I… I don't want to go."
A silence.
Then Lord Solea's expression hardens.
Lord Solea (flatly):
"I wasn't asking."
He turns, cloak sweeping behind him, and with a final cold look, slams the door shut behind him.
Elvienne stumbles backward, her breath catching in her throat. She falls to her knees, trembling, tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. Her hands clutch the folds of her dress as sobs rise from her chest.
Lord Solea walks down the corridor, flanked by two guards.
Lord Solea (low voice to the head guard):
"Keep watch on her. Day and night."
He pauses, gaze cold and calculating.
Lord Solea:
"I want every movement noted. Anyone she speaks to. Any bird that lands. Any animals she touches! Anything unusual… report it immediately. Tighten security. No mistakes."
Guard:
"Yes, my lord."
They continue walking down the dim corridor, footsteps echoing in the heavy silence