Side Story: Missing Alper (part 1)
Olyver Rein POV
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In the heart of the dark and sprawling wilderness, Eva and I pressed onward, the weight of our mission etched into every step. The question hanging in the cool night air finally found a voice.
“How long have we been searching for the young master?” Eva asked, her melodic voice cutting through the oppressive quiet.
I looked over and saw her slim figure under the moonlit woods, golden locks glinting faintly, as her green eyes rested on me.
“Three, maybe four days,” I replied grimly. Our metal armor, once sleek with gold linings, was now dirtied from the journey, gleaming faintly under the weak light of the lamps on our hips.
Concern edged my voice as we pressed on. The creak of the lamps and the clink of our armor blended with the eerie sounds of the forest—a reminder of the tension growing with each passing hour.
The nights here were dangerous and unpredictable. Shadows hid monsters and beasts that blended seamlessly into the dark, their presence hinted at only by unsettling sounds echoing through the trees.
But Eva and I, seasoned soldiers with years of experience, moved forward without hesitation. We were part of the chosen rescue group sent to find the young lord, Alper.
Eva sighed, the worry clear in her voice. “I just hope the young master is all right. He’s just a small, kind child,” she said, her tone trembling slightly.
Eva always wore her emotions openly, and tonight, her fears mirrored those of the entire group.
Despite the unease creeping into my chest, I straightened my posture. The young master depended on us. No matter what dangers waited in the shadows, we wouldn’t stop until we brought him back.
Our young master, Alper, had always embodied innocence and warmth. His playful demeanor and affable nature endeared him to everyone, creating joy wherever he went. It wasn’t about his rank or status—his presence alone had the power to bring smiles to even the most stoic faces.
“I hope he’s all right too,” I replied, my voice carrying the same concern that lingered in Eva’s. My eyes stayed sharp, scanning the shadows for any signs of danger. The mere thought of harm coming to Alper sent a chill through me. “If anything happens to him, the clan will be thrown into chaos,” I added, the weight of our mission pressing heavily on my mind.
The disappearance of young Lord Alper had already plunged House Luminari into disarray. The matriarch—his grandmother—had shown uncharacteristic signs of distress, her sharp mind dulled by the constant worry. Even simple decisions, tasks she could once handle effortlessly, now escaped her in moments of melancholy.
Alper’s father, Lord Luminari, known for his patience and steady hand, had become erratic and quick-tempered. His wife, a woman of boundless cheer and adventurous spirit, had retreated to her chambers, overtaken by a depression that mirrored the heavy gloom gripping the entire household.
“Do you think he might have been kidnapped?” Eva’s voice trembled, the question laden with worry.
“Were you not paying attention during the briefing?” I asked, a touch of sternness slipping into my tone. “Another group is assigned to investigate potential kidnappings. Our task is to search the wilderness in case he’s lost.”
“But for a child to survive three days out here…” Eva’s voice faltered, her fear spilling into her words. “He wasn’t even talented in Metal Weaving. His chances are—”
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“Eva,” I cut in firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. “We don’t assume anything unless we have proof. Focus on the objective: finding the young lord. Time is against us.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Eva conceded, her worry giving way to a shared determination.
Our patrol took us along the formidable mountain range, a series of towering peaks that acted as an impenetrable barrier, separating this region from the unknown expanse beyond. These unyielding mountains were both a natural fortress and a hindrance, limiting our search to the side we currently traversed.
The quiet was almost calming as we strolled, engaging in casual conversation, until a sudden yelp from Eva shattered the tranquility. She stumbled to the ground, her armored form clattering as she landed.
“I told you to be careful,” I said, extending a hand to help her up.
“I was being careful… Hey, what’s that?” Eva said, pointing to the ground where she’d tripped.
Her discovery drew our attention to a small hole, cunningly concealed beneath a layer of leaves and foliage. My gaze sharpened as suspicion crept into my thoughts.
“Hmm. Let’s check it out,” I suggested, crouching to brush away the deceptive covering. Clearing the area revealed a narrow opening—too small for adults like us but perfectly sized for a child.
Retrieving the lamp from my hip, I shone its light into the hole. The faint glow revealed something that made my breath catch. “...Blood,” I muttered, disbelief and dread lacing my voice.
Eva’s eyes widened, her face mirroring my horror. The realization struck us both like a thunderclap.
Without hesitation, Eva metal weaved to enlarge the opening and almost instantly, the hole was wide enough for us to descend. I leaped down first, landing safely in the confined space below.
The scene that greeted me was grim. The ground was stained with dried blood—evidence of something that had happened days ago. The air was thick with unease, the sight sending a chill down my spine.
Eva joined me moments later, her expression tightening as she took in the unsettling scene. “This… doesn’t look good,” she murmured.
“No,” I agreed, my voice heavy with foreboding. “It doesn’t.”
As Eva joined me, the pungent scent of blood filled the air, causing her to tremble. Panic crept into her voice as she stammered, “H-Hey, you don’t think our young maste—”
“Calm down,” I interrupted firmly. “Look around first.”
I scanned the surroundings, my gaze falling on the walls. Chunks of dirt and stone were missing, their jagged edges telling a story. Whoever had fallen down here was small—likely a child—and, more importantly, still alive when they landed.
The walls bore the marks of a desperate escape attempt. Small holes, shaped like they had been crudely dug, hinted at a child trying to climb out. The weakened structure had crumbled under the strain, leaving faint blood spatters as a haunting testament to their struggle.
“Whoever was stuck here was definitely a kid,” I said grimly, my thoughts racing. “And not skilled enough in Metal Weaving to escape on their own.”
Eva’s eyes widened in horror. She pressed her hands to her mouth, muffling the gasp that threatened to escape. “The young master,” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of the realization.
“There’s no body,” I countered quickly. “He might still be alive.”
My eyes locked onto a faint trail of blood leading deeper into the cave. The sight sent a surge of urgency coursing through me. “This way,” I said, not waiting for a response.
Without hesitation, I sprinted toward the trail. The oppressive darkness of the cave closed in around us, broken only by the weak glow of our lamps. The narrow beam illuminated the crimson path on the floor—a chilling reminder of Alper’s peril.
Every step heightened the tension, the silence of the cave broken only by the echo of our hurried movements. Alper, or someone similar to him had passed this way; now, it was a race against time to find him.
Eva kept close behind me, her face a canvas of turmoil. Her empathy, especially when it came to children, added a crushing weight to the situation. Each passing second twisted the knot in my gut tighter, the unspoken dread growing as we descended deeper into the cave’s shadowy depths.
“Young Master! Alper! We’re the rescue team!” I called, my voice echoing through the cavern. Hope clung to every word, desperate and fragile.
The only response was silence. Then, as my lamp’s light fell on the ground ahead, my steps faltered.
“No,” I breathed, disbelief tightening my throat. My eyes locked on a pool of fresh blood and a small pair of shoes—shoes I recognized instantly.
“Young Master,” I whispered, the words catching painfully in my chest.
A sickening realization hit me like a blow. We were too late. Some malevolent force—perhaps a monstrous entity—had taken Alper before we could reach him. All that remained was this haunting scene: a pair of abandoned shoes and the unmistakable evidence of his suffering.
“Oh God,” Eva muttered, her voice barely audible as the weight of the moment bore down on us.
The crushing loss settled heavily on my shoulders, and my mind raced with the implications.
What could I possibly tell the clan now?