***?? CHAPTER FIVE***
That night king Aric made his way to his chamber with a heavy heart.
He had finally seen her.
Lydia; his daughter— one that was made with the scarify of everything he had own.
It haunts him, to the extent specially when he saw her face: skin white like snow, eyes silvery just like her mother, with the beauty that once belong to her mother.
When she smiled he was reminded of her.
Everything Lydia did he saw his wife in her.
He couldn't take it— couldn't face it.
He had failed.
His kingdom.
His family.
Himself.
Aric stood up, clenching his fingers and walked towards the window.
He saw the ones great kingdom reduced to nothing but this.
"I have failed you My love" he paused slightly.
"I cannot love her, for she is the reason we were made like this"
He closed his eyes slowly, tears dripping down slowly.
The cuse of the prophecy was slowly fulfilling within time.
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Years passed and the once great kingdom slowly shifted into something darker and more unsettling.
The people became greedy and gloomy.
The red moon still lingers — silently watching the disaster unfold.
The king turned harsher with every report coming in. execution became a norm, Taxes where increase to impossible prices, the Greatfriy river flooded once every few months— with each wave destroying everything in its path.
The Kingdom began fearing the girl in the tower, soon whispers began at first in the kingdom, ter outside to the world it became know that a cursed girl lives in a tower waiting for the next blood moon to end her fate.
Adventurers from all over, came to witness this oracle.
The once great kingdom was now known again but this time for a different reason,
'Not for it's richness'
'Nor faith'
But, for the raise of a curse none seems to understand.
This angered the king he double guards, making sure that everyone who came in or out of his kingdom were with proper order.
But destiny doesn't sleep instead it's wait until the proper time arrived making it's entrance with a cloak and mind full of adventures and mystery.
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The northern winds tore across the cliffs outside Aurelion, tossing dust and dead leaves in jagged spirals.
Aireb’s cloak fpped violently around him, but he walked steadily, boots crunching against the rough stone.
The Blood Moon hung low, crimson and ominous, casting long shadows over the city below.
Its glow made the castle towers gleam faintly like silver knives.
To most travelers, the sight would have been frightening; to Aireb, it was beautiful. Adventure had a certain smell at dusk—metal, cold air, and the faint scent of stone with mild danger warmed by fading sunlight.
He inhaled deeply and grinned.
The city gates opened before him as if welcoming the wandering traveler.
Soldiers scrutinized him, their hands brushing the heads of their swords — just incase.
Aireb gave a polite nod, a friendly smile that softened the edge of suspicion. “Good evening,” he said lightly, his voice carried easily across the cold stone walls.
“A fine night for exploring, isn’t it?” The guards blinked at him, unsure, but still followed procedures and checking everything, before letting him pass.
The gates opened up giving view to the kingdom of Makarios.
Aireb grinned hard, breathing in the air of danger and adventure.
"Pretty" He thought.
He wandered through the city streets, drawing attention without trying.
He saw the once great kingdom or what was left of it.
Buildings were rapture and broken down just like the people within.
Merchants called greetings, children where all around
skinny and tired, he came slightly before them, dropping a coin and walking away.
He smiled at everyone, stopped to inspect a merchant’s stall, praised the colors of their cloth, and asked casual questions about the city’s towers and walls.
Not a hint of fear, not a whisper of doubt. He was a traveler, curious and kind, humble in his presence, like he had nowhere to prove himself but every corner of the world to learn from.
Yet, as he walked, his eyes kept returning to the Eastern Tower. It rose above the rooftops like a sentinel, pale stone etched against the darkening sky. Something about it hummed faintly to him—not magic, not prophecy, not warning, just… an undeniable sense of being alive, and a calling for something greater.
He shrugged.
Towers often had stories.
Adventure always had doors hidden where no one noticed.
He spent the night in an old and cheap inn, cleaning dust from his boots and writing notes in a small notebook, sketching maps of the cliffs and hills surrounding the city.
Keeping records of everything he saw and hear
He asked casual questions of anyone who might know a secret path or hidden view.
The innkeeper, amused by his polite curiosity, provided him with bread, cheese, and a room with a window that overlooked the city and, faintly, the tower. Aireb’s eyes lit up.
A perfect vantage point for exploration.
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Inside the tower, Lydia shifted restlessly in her sleep. Her dreams had grown heavier in recent nights.
They were no longer simple echoes of fear or shadow; they had a weight, a depth, as though the very air carried the memory of things she had never lived.
Tonight, the dream began with the familiar scene of a ruined city, streets bckened and cracked under a blood-red sky.
Whispers slithered through the air, wrapping around her chest, tugging at her breath.
She ran barefoot through stone streets, winding, endless, the walls of colpsed buildings leaning in as if to watch her.
A crimson moon rose higher in the sky, casting a light that seemed almost alive.
The shadows moved in strange patterns, forming shapes she recognized but could not name. Figures without faces reached out
. And then a tower appeared—familiar and impossible, its windows dark, its stones cold. From the rooftop, a figure watched her.
She could not see clearly, but their presence was undeniable, firm and still. There was no malice in their eyes
Only curiosity, and greed, and something fandom way hard to name.
Making her skin crawled with disgust from the fear of being watched like a science experiments.
Lydia woke with a start.
Frost had formed along the edges of the window, heavy snow crystals etching complicated patterns across the gss.
Her chest heaved, her hair damp with sweat.
The dream left her unsettled, but there was something else—a tug at the edges of her mind, a whisper of danger, she did not yet understand, but the curse in her did.
She pressed a hand to the windowpane, staring at the shadowed streets below.
Somewhere in the night, something—or someone—was moving.
The next morning, Aireb climbed the ridge paths just beyond the city walls.
His boots crunched against gravel and rock, the wind tossing his dark hair into his face.
The tower was closer now, visible in its full height, casting a long shadow across the northern city district. He paused to sketch it, taking in every detail: the windows, the balcony ledges, the narrow stone steps that spiraled upward along the outer wall.
Adventure was not just movement; it was observation, discovery. Every tower had secrets, and he intended to see them all.
He stopped for a moment to speak with a merchant along the way, asking casually, “What do you know of the tower?”
The merchant, wary at first, leaned close and whispered, “They say a girl lives there. Born under the Blood Moon. Locked away for fear of the curse.”
Aireb ughed softly, shrugging. “A curse, huh? Sounds like the kind of story I want to see for myself.” He tossed the merchant a coin and continued.
His tone was light, pyful, casual, and it was exactly the kind of charm that made people lower their guard around him.
He asked more questions that morning, spoke of distant mountains, of ruins in the north, of legends whispered along forgotten roads.
Everyone who met him found him engaging, warm, the kind of man who seemed to live in the world, not above it.
Yet the tower lingered in his mind, as towers always did. Something about its presence—the cold, the silence, the impossibly high walls—pulled him.
He did not rush.
He did not pn.
He simply walked and observed, letting the city guide him, letting the mountains speak to him.
That night, Lydia’s dream returned.
This time, it was more vivid, more insistent. The ruined city bent into shapes she recognized as her castle courtyard, the stone walls of the tower’s lower floors. Whispers were louder now, sharper, more urgent.
Frost formed along streets she could not walk, and the red moon bled across the sky like a wound. She ran to the edges of shadowed streets and saw, for a moment, the faint silhouette of a shadow moving in the distance.
He did not call to her.
He did not reach out.
He merely watched, and she felt the weight of his gaze without knowing why.
Lydia awoke with frost lining the edges of her windowpane, breath catching in her throat. Her heart pounded.
The dreams were changing, stirring in ways she could not yet understand.
She pressed herself against the bnket, staring at the darkened streets below.
Something was coming. Something that would break the rhythm of her locked life.
Outside, Aireb paused on top a ridge, watching the tower silhouette against the Blood Moon.
He adjusted his satchel, gnced at his sketchbook, and hummed a low tune, walking along the cliff path with careful ease.
To anyone else, he was just a traveler, a young man seeking stories and adventure.
The wind carried the chill of the night, rustling through the streets and across the hills, wrapping the city in silver frost.
Somewhere far above, the Blood Moon gred down.
Two lives were moving closer, a girl and a traveler, both unaware of the paths they were about to cross, unaware of the change that night would bring.
Adventure.
Aireb thought, smiling faintly to himself. It always comes to those who are ready—or those foolish enough to chase it.
And soon, both were about to be tested.
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Borrdcat
Remind me if I did something wrong
That will be all for today till next time (? ??????? ?)??
