Azmar was lying in his bed. He was trying sleeping as it was his off day from work. It was midnight, but he couldn’t sleep. Maybe because of his sister, as she didn’t return although it was the middle of night. Suddenly he heard noises, noises of some horses and shields,which were creating by clash between armours of the soldiers perhaps. He knew this sound as he saw soldiers while traveling with his uncle once. But what are they doing in the midst of night? He thought. No, I should sleep. Before he could know some soldiers with shields in their hand crushed through the door.Suddenly he found himself surrounded by the royal guards of the kingdom. His heart raced, and fear gripped him. What are the king’s men doing here? he thought. I haven’t done anything wrong—why would they come for me? The door to his room splintered where they had broken through. Was that necessary? I would have opened it willingly.

“Lad, you need to come with us,” the leader of the group said in a stern voice. His face was calm, neither angry nor kind, though there was a flicker of frustration in his eyes. Why me? Of all men, why would the king choose me?  

Azmar, rising from his bed with a courteous air, said, “I beg your pardon? Why would the King summon me in the dead of night?”And you didn’t need to break down my door This is absurd! This makes no sense at all!

The leader’s expression darkened. “The king’s command is not to be questioned. We’re here to bring you to him, by force if necessary. His Majesty does not tolerate delay.”

Azmar hesitated, then sighed. “Very well.”As unwilling as he was, he knew he can't defy Kings command. At least not while sorrounded by his men

He threw aside his blanket and stood. “Where is my sister?” he asked, his voice sharp with concern.

The leader frowned. “Sister? We’ve received no such information. You have a sister? That’s… unexpected.” He shook his head. “Regardless, cooperate, or your safety is not assured.

Azmar stepped out of his house, flanked by the royal guards. Fear stirred within him, though he concealed it beneath a calm exterior. Please Ilina, be safe. The streets were unusually quiet, the faint whispers of elemental spirits fading into the night.  His mind raced, consumed by thoughts of his sister’s uncertain fate, should he fail to return. He was scared

A merchant was closing his crystal shop for the night. Crystals—those enigmatic stones, shrouded in secrecy. The only known truth about them was that they could store elemental energy. Energy gathered from the natural flow of the Guardians’ power, imbued into the crystals to later illuminate houses and streets.However these Crystals were different. These were the ones fastened to wooden poles, their light shimmering like something ethereal after dusk. The people of Alniba couldn't use these crystals to control energy be their own. The reasons were unknown. But, as they remained unable to use magical energy, they created their own way of doing things. Using Technology was one of them. They used crystal powered machinaries and engineered them in their own way.

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The shopkeepers guarded their knowledge of these crystals fiercely, treating it as a trade secret passed down through generations. Only the King fully understood the deeper truths behind these engineered  crystals’ power, and he allowed them to keep their silence. It made no sense to Azmar—why veil the knowledge when it was no trivial matter? And why did the people not question it?

He had pondered such things in his childhood, but now, it seemed less important. The shopkeeper hurried along, his crystal faintly glowing in the dim light. He paused as he came face-to-face with Azmar and the royal guards.

The shopkeeper knew Azmar well. He had often been around him when Azmar was six, or perhaps seven? Even then, the boy was known for his honesty, never mocking others or speaking ill. Everyone admired him—not merely for his striking beauty but for his noble character. He was always cordial, always kind. Though he was simple, wasn’t it simplicity that needed to be cherished in a world so devoid of courtesy?

There was something about Azmar that had drawn people to him from the start. Now, as a man in his twenties, he had grown into one of the finest examples of virtue, both in word and in deed. And as the saying went, Divinity follows the Righteous. It had always rung true in Azmar’s life.

The shopkeeper wondered aloud, "Sorin, what are you doing with him? I know Azmar would never behave improperly—not here, not ever. Care to explain?"

Though Sorin, the Guard Leader, was disappointed to be stopped in the middle of the night, he could not simply ignore the old man. His words carried weight—perhaps more than even the ministers. The guards, moving swiftly, slowed as they acknowledged the presence of the elder. His glowing crystal had already begun to draw the attention of onlookers. Stares were starting to fix on them, and the clamor of the horses and the clashing of shields didn’t help matters.

The shields, placed carelessly in the urgency of the order, rattled noisily in the quiet streets. The people, naturally, began to watch more closely. Sorin realized that bypassing the elder would only worsen the growing suspicion. After all, a group of royal guards taking away a man as renowned and admired as Azmar in the dead of night would surely stir the minds of the people—or so they feared.

One of the roads connected the palace to the kingdom, shrouded in darkness. The horses were not clearly visible, yet their sounds unmistakably signaled their presence. Each horse carried a rider, and the leading steed approached the pathway where Azmar stood alongside the royal guards.

As the man dismounted, the others followed suit. "Your Highness!" Sorin acknowledged with respect. He placed his right arm across his left shoulder—a gesture of honor. The people, wondered around the kingsmen as they were surprised by the presence of King himself