*¡Agggggg!*... Apolo exclaimed as he suddenly opened his eyes and stared at the carriage's ceiling. With his breath heavy and sweat on his face, Apolo hastily lifted his shirt, only to find not a single scar on his abdomen.

—It was just another damn nightmare...— Apolo whispered as he regulated his breathing. This wasn't the first time the young man had these kinds of nightmares; they always changed yet returned to haunt his nights and disrupt his sleep. No wonder Apolo always had dark circles under his eyes; the truth was, since Helena's death 12 years ago, he hadn't slept soundly.

—Did something happen, young sir?— the carriage driver shouted from outside, concerned about the sudden shout.

—No, nothing happened...— Apolo replied brusquely, more focused on recalling the nightmare's details than addressing the driver's worries.

—I'm glad to hear that!— the driver shouted from outside the carriage. —We'll be meeting up with the main caravan in a few minutes. Prepare yourself to reunite with your younger brother.

Far from worrying about meeting one of his brothers, Apolo was engrossed in analyzing the nightmare. The truth was that not even Apolo himself remembered exactly how Helena died or how he came into possession of the ring. The only thing he knew for sure, thanks to his family's reports, was that 12 years ago, Helena went on an adventure with him into the forest, and he was the only one who returned. What happened in the forest remained a mystery to Apolo, and the recurring nightmares changed too much to draw a satisfactory conclusion.

For now, Apolo recognized that all the nightmares had four common factors: first, the ring was always initially worn by Helena; second, they always headed toward a cliff; third, Helena somehow repeated the same four words at least once per nightmare; and lastly, the most important detail: Apolo always ended up killing Helena.

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With concern, Apolo looked out the carriage window at the towering column of black trees with red leaves on the sides of the road. This was the Black Forest, named for the fact that most of its trees had black bark. The forest had always been adjacent to Apolo's family castle, primarily because it was never exploited for economic gain.

For Apolo's family, these trees were sacred, as the family history went: their founder had survived a brutal battle by absorbing the strength of one of these trees. To repay the life-saving favor, the family's founder had built a castle in the middle of the forest, with the intention that his descendants would protect it for eternity. And so it was, for two millennia the family had existed, and throughout that time, they never broke their promise to protect the forest.

However, the most paradoxical aspect of Apolo's nightmare was that despite growing up his whole life in these woods and his family residing here for two millennia, there was not a single record of a cliff like the one in his nightmares existing in these woods.

For 12 long years, Apolo would venture into the forest, seeking the location of his nightmares, attempting to gather clues about what truly transpired on the day Helena never returned to the castle. However, despite his efforts, Apolo could never find the cliff, its surroundings, or any clue that could bring him closer to the ultimate truth he longed for.

That was the main reason Apolo never wanted to leave the castle; he knew that once he went to the capital, he would have to relinquish hope of finding the cliff of his dreams. More importantly, he would have to let go of the hope of discovering what really happened on his final adventure with Helena. Yet, apparently, his grandfather's patience had finally run out, and Apolo's exploration came to an abrupt end without the satisfying conclusion he yearned to uncover. In Apolo's mind, the hope that Helena might still be alive had never faded: perhaps, just perhaps, Helena didn't die in the Black Forest on her last adventure. Maybe she chose to leave the castle and live a life filled with joy, gifting the bronze ring to Apolo as a farewell present. Unfortunately, the harsh reality was that the chances of that being what truly happened on that last day of adventure were minuscule.