Anthos exited the room and found himself wandering the castle, navigating its countless corridors and chambers. Every so often, he crossed paths with guards who didn’t take their eyes off him, or nobles who watched him with open disdain as he passed. It wasn’t that it bothered him—he knew that was just how the world was—but he couldn't help but wonder: "What would happen if there were no nobles?"

  He smiled immediately, realizing the thought was impossible. Who would rule? For a fleeting second, he imagined a sort of utopia where the people chose their own leaders, but he dismissed the idea almost as quickly as it had come. What kind of perverse mind would dream up such a thing? Everything would surely go to rack and ruin. The world simply didn't work that way.

  In the midst of these musings, he spotted a door left slightly ajar, through which beams of sunlight streamed. "Why not? A bit of sun won’t hurt," he thought, pursing his lips and nodding to himself.

  When he stepped inside, he found a small inner cloister overgrown with plants, mostly vines creeping along the upper walls. It couldn't have seen much foot traffic; it lacked the meticulous upkeep of the other courtyards he’d seen during his trek through the castle. There were no sculptures or grand attractions—just the fresh air, the wayward growth of the greenery, and the blessed absence of idiot nobles poisoning the air with their glares.

  As he walked, he realized the place wasn't as small as it had first appeared. It opened up into a T-shape, branching to his left and right. At the end of both wings, mirrored on each side, was a kind of balcony offering a view of the mountains and the sheer drop beneath the massive foundations of Skycold. He deduced that this cloister must be located at the rear of the castle.

  He began to gaze out at the rocky massifs, the sun peeking through the clouds, when he felt a presence behind him.

  "Perfect," he thought. "Another annoying noble."

  The sight left him petrified.

  Standing right before him was a woman just entering adulthood. She had blonde hair and green eyes, with full pink lips and a small, upturned nose that slanted ever so slightly to the left. Her hair was worn loose, falling over her shoulders from a slightly crooked middle part. She wore a white shirt with gold detailing and gray velvet trousers. She was, by far, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He stood there slack-jawed, lost for words.

  "Um... I... uh..."

  The woman smiled. "Relax," she said, her voice soft and melodic. She stepped beside him, gazing out at the mountains. "I don’t plan on turning you in. Because you clearly snuck into the castle or something like that, right?" She narrowed her eyes playfully.

  "I..."

  "Don’t say a word. You’re obviously no noble. Were you hired for maintenance or something?"

  At that moment, Anthos became painfully aware of how he looked. His leather boots were worn, filthy, and falling apart; his crimson-striped shirt was a tattered mess, as was his leather coat. His hair was a bird's nest, and his unkempt beard made it clear that hygiene hadn't been his top priority lately.

  "Damn..." he muttered, shaking his head.

  The woman’s eyes went wide, looking genuinely embarrassed. "What? Did I say something to offend you? Oh, by Mistilanya, that wasn't my intention."

  "It's alright." He smiled, and for the first time, he found himself looking into the infinite emerald sea of her eyes. "You could say I was hired, yes. Though for now, I’m staying as a guest."

  "A guest of whom? Dromak’s? Alarissa’s...?"

  "The Queen's."

  He watched her eyes widen even further. "Oh... then you must be one of the people who brought the baby. I thought a knight was going to do it."

  The guide squinted. How did a girl in the court know about matters this important—things of global consequence?

  "A knight did bring him," he replied, still feeling uncertain. "Sir Kalen ′Fal of the Order of Reidos. But we accompanied him so he could see the task through."

  "Oh, of course... it couldn't have been easy." The girl gave him a smile that carved two deep dimples into her cheeks. "By the way, my name is Kisenthea."

  For a moment, he forgot to respond, but then he snapped back to reality.

  "I'm Anthos. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kisenthea."

  "Anthos is an Elbarien name." She arched an eyebrow.

  "It is an Elbarien name, you’re right."

  "Mmm… you don’t look like you’re from Elbarie."

  "Because I’m not. I was born in Trabarioth as Cedric Gunthelar. But nobody calls me that. I’m just Anthos. And what about you? What are you doing here?"

  "Well, I... let’s just say I work with Lord Volrath."

  The guide’s eyes widened. "Wait, when we arrived, the Queen told us the mage was indisposed because he was dealing with his apprentice... You're the apprentice, aren't you?" The young woman gave a bashful smile and nodded. "Of course. That explains why you aren't dressed like a lady of the court..."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean... your clothes are more practical. More suited to your... activities."

  "And what sort of activities do you think those are?" The young woman seemed to be enjoying the guide's clumsy interrogation.

  "Well... I... honestly, I don’t know. I’m just a simple—" He paused for a moment. "Damn, I don’t even know what the hell I am."

  "And why is that?" Kisenthea leaned an elbow on the balcony railing, resting her chin in her hand.

  "I’ve been many things. Now, apparently, I’m a mountain guide..." he said with a half-smile, blowing a stray lock of dark hair out of his eyes.

  "I didn’t know that was a profession." She seemed genuinely intrigued.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "It isn’t. I’m making it up as I go, based on my job escorting the boy."

  "You're the one who guided them here?"

  "Yes, my lady."

  "And what was that like?"

  "We made it, didn't we?"

  Kisenthea arched an eyebrow, clearly expecting a more detailed answer.

  "Well... it wasn't easy, I must admit," Anthos continued. "We crossed through the bowels of the earth, where danger lurked and countless monsters awaited—creatures plucked from the darkest nightmares. Hideous, cannibalistic things, somewhat human-like, that..."

  "Osgor," the mage’s apprentice interrupted suddenly.

  "What?"

  "Osgor. There were Osgor. Is that what you meant by cannibalistic monsters inside the mountains? Based on your description, Osgor sounds exactly right."

  "Yes, those things. How do you know about them at such a young age? No offense, but you don't exactly look like the type who travels much."

  "You wouldn’t believe how much I have to study just to keep up with Lord Volrath. Why do you think I escape the tower every now and then?" She gave him a wink, and Anthos realized this cloister was her secret refuge during her "getaways."

  "They were led by the witch Baba Yaga..." Anthos saw her face twitch at the name, as if she didn't quite believe him. "I know it sounds unbelievable. I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't seen it, but it's true. The very same witch from children’s stories. In the flesh, with evil practically seeping through her skin..."

  "Heavens... I imagine it wasn't a pleasant journey."

  "No, it wasn't... and then we had a setback with a... former companion. A dark druid."

  "A dark druid?" She arched an eyebrow. "And you defeated him?"

  "Yes, he finally fell... Why? What’s wrong?"

  "Nothing, it’s just... they say dark druids utilize sub-surface entities originating from tears in tangible reality." Kisenthea noticed Anthos’s eyes go wide, completely lost by her technical jargon. "In other words, they are constantly consorting with demons, spirits, and other beings. At the moment of death, they might seek asylum with those spirits and still be lingering in the ethereal plane."

  "But... does that mean he’s alive?"

  "No, of course not. They’re just legends." Despite the girl's smile, her words didn't leave him feeling very reassured.

  A few seconds of silence followed, during which both found themselves contemplating the sunset over the mountains, bathed in an orange light that gave the atmosphere a magical hue, as if much of that place were taken from a dream rather than a real image. A light breeze stirred the girl's hair just as she noticed Anthos was watching her. The guide, realizing Kisenthea had noticed his gaze, nervously turned his eyes back to the front.

  "You haven't told me much about yourself, my lady Kisenthea," he said, trying to mimic the courtesy of the nobles.

  "I already told you what I am," she replied, smiling. "I am Lord Volrath's apprentice. What else do you want to know?"

  "Where are you from?"

  "You wouldn't guess."

  "Try me..." He smiled. "You're from Doknar."

  "No."

  "From here, Trabarioth."

  "No."

  "Damn... from Rimdail?" The girl burst into laughter.

  "Do I look like a barbarian woman?" She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'm from Elbarie."

  "I don't believe it," the guide said, unable to help himself. "There are no women with sun-colored hair in those desert lands. I would have believed it if you were from Rimdail, but not Elbarie. I spent my whole childhood in Elbarie and I never saw a woman like you."

  "It's true. My father was an Elbarien sorcerer. His name was Az Ahkali-In-Nomedas, better known as the Jackal Warlock. Haven't you heard the name?" Anthos narrowed his eyes, thinking he had heard that name once or twice before. "Well, it doesn't matter. My mother was from Trabarioth. They fell in love and she accompanied him when he was appointed royal advisor to Emperor Koheired-Sha. I was born and spent my first years in those lands and I can tell you that, despite what people believe, they are beautiful. When the emperor was overthrown by Demalud-Sha, my mother and I were forced to flee, while my father tried to restore order" She looked at the reddish sunset sun and adopted a dreamy expression again, lost in the infinite. "Like the sun and the moon, they spent years searching for each other, unable to find one another."

  "And what became of your parents?"

  "I don’t know what happened to my father," Kisenthea began. "My mother fell into a deep depression and threw herself from the cliff bordering Skycold Castle. I was almost close enough to reach her, but I didn’t make it. In that moment—perhaps out of horror and desperation—something inside me exploded, creating a magical wave... that reached all the way to where Lord Volrath was. That was when he found me and saw that I had magical blood, clearly inherited from my father. He took me in and decided to train me."

  "How old were you?"

  "Ten or eleven... I don’t remember well."

  A few more seconds of silence followed, during which the guide contemplated her beauty. Her hair swayed with the rhythm of the wind, she carried the scent of jasmine, and she possessed an innocence born of having little contact with others. He was immensely drawn to her, and it went beyond mere physical attraction; there was a connection he couldn't explain. Kisenthea radiated an aura of kindness he had rarely encountered. She, it seemed, had also been smitten by Anthos, for she couldn't stop looking at him; more than once, they had caught themselves staring into each other's eyes.

  "Do you want to know why I chose 'Anthos'?" She nodded. "I was born in Trabarioth, but I grew up in Elbarie. And just like you, those lands always seemed beautiful, magical to me..."

  "It’s too much of a coincidence!" Kisenthea said, her voice a mix of wonder and disbelief.

  "It’s true. In fact, I was an Elbarien duelist. I fought mainly in the southern lands, emerging victorious in almost every contest."

  "And what happened? Why did you leave the warm region?"

  Anthos turned his gaze back to the horizon, remembering the reasons that had led him to abandon those lands, and he found he couldn't answer her. Kisenthea noticed the pain in the guide's eyes and gave a knowing nod. In that world—the real world—everyone was like a broken piece in one way or another. The important thing was to find broken pieces that could fit together to form something beautiful.

  "It’s getting late... perhaps I should return to the tower," she said.

  "Yes, I... I should probably get back to my room too... to... do my things."

  "It was a pleasure to meet you, Anthos."

  "The pleasure was all mine, my lady Kisenthea," he said, offering a dramatic, mocking bow that made the girl burst into laughter.

  The young woman left the cloister, but Anthos lingered for a few more minutes, watching as the orange sky faded into violet and then blue, revealing the first stars of a night that promised to be clear but freezing. Finally, driven by the cold, he decided to head back to the room.

  When he entered, he saw Galfrido in new clothes, oiling his greatsword. He was now wearing a black short-sleeved shirt, a high-quality leather vest, green linen trousers, and crimson-dyed leather riding boots. Furthermore, his hair was cropped short and sharply lined, and his thick beard was neatly trimmed. When he saw Anthos, he let out a half-smile and shook his head.

  "What?" Anthos asked, trying to guess the warrior's thoughts.

  "How was your stroll through the castle? Saw anything worth your while?" He didn't stop grinning.

  "Yes, I saw a very good smithy and an alchemy workshop..."

  "Nothing else?"

  "What the hell is wrong with you, man?"

  "Me? Nothing! I’m just saying noble castles are full of delicacies we ought to take advantage of. By the way," he said, turning a bit more serious, "Lord Devan's trial is tomorrow, and they require our presence."

  "They’re only judging Lord Devan?" Anthos frowned. "What about Count Dromak?"

  "He hasn't been accused yet. If you still have the letter that the son of a bitch wrote to Lord Devan, you’ll likely have to present it tomorrow at the trial. Though honestly, if that bastard has the power everyone says he has in here, the accusation will be harder than we thought."

  "Shit..." Anthos knew these kinds of things never ended well or quite how one expected.

  "Easy, partner. We already know he’s an enemy within the walls. He can't surprise us."

  "Don't be so sure, Galfrido."

  Finally, he lay back on his bed to rest, his mind racing. Before falling asleep, he traced the scar on his cheekbone and thought he remembered something related to Ertai, but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside for happier ones. Kisenthea was now gaining ground in his mind.