The morning sun filtered into Emilia’s room, its golden rays stretching across the cotton-white bed where countless books were scattered. Perched by the window, birds chirped their harmonious tunes, the only sound filling the stillness of her little space. Humming a tune she made up on a whim, little Emilia held an enormous encyclopedia, bigger than her face. Her legs swung with excitement. The book, a treasure trove of knowledge, and adventure painted vivid images of the outside world—a world she had only dreamed of but never seen.
Floating islands hovering over vast seas, and clouds. Trees that pierced the skies, cities that gleamed as though from the future and underwater kingdoms that defied logic. Her small hands turned the pages, her eyes widening at the depictions of dragons, gnomes, and even talking toys. Each culture, every peculiar tradition, ignited her imagination as she jumped off her bed and twirled across the spacious room, giggling to herself.
“Adventurers,” she whispered in awe, clutching the book to her chest. Was it even considered a job at this point? She wondered, pacing across the room with a spring to her step. The thought of wandering such a world, discovering mysteries and going on quests, made her heart race. "That’s it!" she said, her voice filling the room. "I’m going to be an adventurer!"
Book still hugged, she peeked out into the hallway, her gaze darting to the guards stationed with stoic faces and the maids bustling about their morning duties. Taking a deep breath, she puffed up her cheeks to blow a stray lock of hair from her face, before stepping into the corridor with practiced poise. The guards straightened and bowed as she passed, their footsteps echoing as they trailed her.
“Lady Emilia, you seem quite spirited today,” came a voice from behind. Aunt Maria, her ever-diligent caretaker, hurried over, catching her breath. With her glasses glinting in the light and her long, flowing hair almost a mirror of Emilia’s. She placed a steadying hand on the little girl’s shoulder. "Might I ask what’s got you so bright this fine morning?"
She asked, looking down at the book the little girl held so tight as if some criminal wished to snatch it from her little fingers.
"I see," she said, with a smile. "You're curious about the outside world aren't you?"
Emilia hesitated, tightening her hold on the book. “It’s not like I’m… interested or anything,” she stammered, her face flushing crimson. “I just… well… maybe I was reading about the outside world, but that doesn’t mean I want to leave or anything!”
Maria chuckled, placing a gentle hand on Emilia’s head, trying not to ruffle her hair. “One day, my dear, you’ll be someone very important. It’s good to have a curious mind, but you should also work on your confidence. Let’s try that explanation again, hmm?”
Emilia’s gaze dropped as her voice softened into an almost inaudible whisper. “I’m sorry,” she said, peeking up with big eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
The sight melted Maria’s heart in an instant, also making her feel like she was a monster who almost made a little girl cry. She stopped in her tracks and laughed, ruffling her own hair in frustration. “Alright, alright! No need for that look. I’ll talk to your father. Perhaps a short trip to the city might be arranged. With some guards of course”
“Really?!” Emilia’s voice was electric, her once teary eyes now bright with excitement.
“Yes, really—” Maria’s words cut short as her eyes landed on a certain mischief-maker down the hall. Her expression shifted in seconds to one of exasperation. “Pasta!”
Pasta, with his ever-charming grin, sauntered along with a top hat perched on his messy hair and a long sword strapped to his waist. Spotting Maria storming toward him, he gave Emilia a wink and a little chuckle before turning and leaping out of a nearby window. Arms crossed and eyes closed, he relaxed midair, savouring the rush of the free fall.
But then—his eyes snapped open.
His smug composure shattered as he let out a high-pitched scream, blindsided by the sight of Maria, her usually elegant form diving right after him.
“I told you to go study!” she yelled, reaching out to grab the flailing Pasta.
Pasta’s panicked shriek morphed into a wild laugh as he grabbed onto a sturdy branch mid-fall, halting his descent. Dangling there with his dishevelled hair sticking out from under the top hat, he shot Maria a devilish grin.
With a startled cry, Maria plummeted straight into a parked carriage, splintering its roof on impact. Her coating saved her from serious harm.
The workers gathered around the wreckage, jaws dropping at the scene. Slowly, their eyes shifted upward, toward the trees, where Pasta swung from the branch like a little, smug monkey.
“Let me guess,” one said, watching as the grinning troublemaker tipped his top hat. “Pasta.”
“Pasta,” the others sighed in unison, already piecing together the situation.
Watching the commotion from the window, Emilia giggled. “Pasta really is like an adventurer—so free-spirited.” She looked down at the cover of her book, her excitement growing tenfold. She gazed at the sprawling fields of Gilmora. They stretched in vibrant waves of green and gold, dotted with the occasional wildflower swaying lazily in the breeze. The mansion stood at the heart of this idyllic expanse, a proud silhouette against the horizon. It marked the outskirts of Ilumis, a bustling city of entertainment, a rarity in the Second Realm.
Straightening her posture, Emilia marched through the halls, heading for her father’s chambers. She was determined to see her plans through, even if it meant convincing the Grand Duke of the Arts and Nobleman of Ilumis himself—Nathan Falcrest.
*
The store was an assault on Astria’s senses, the cloying scent of expensive perfume clinging to every breath she took, threatening to choke the life out of her. Her complexion turned a shade paler almost unnoticeable on her white skin. She glanced around, her eyes landing on the other ladies flaunting their fur coats. Some twirled in cosy outfits and luxurious sweaters, while others haggled over prices with an intensity that felt out of place. The warm glow of the room was courtesy of fiery red crystals embedded in the walls near the ceiling, their heat radiating across the space.
She let out a weary sigh, her shoulders sagging as the scarf draped around her neck and ears slipped slightly.
“Let’s get this over with already,” she said, her voice barely audible over the hum of conversations. She stared at the glowing crystals above, the cause of the unusual warmth she felt. “I see the Nine Realms isn’t completely stuck in the past”
“I never thought I’d see one here,” Emilia said, her eyes glittering. “Energy Crystals, mankind's most impressive invention”
“Impressive, sure, but basic” Astria said, taking a pause and stared at Emilia. “Aren’t you from the Second Realm? Shouldn’t this be old news to you?”
Emilia nodded.
Astria raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb with me, I’m aware of the second realm being the most advanced around here, surely you must have seen an energy crystal probably even a network of them”
Emilia shook her head. "There’s no network there, and yes, I am from the Second, but I'm not allowed out much," she whispered as she hugged a pink dress she’d pulled from a rack. “We don’t really use tech much. My family focuses more on the arts so… we don’t rely on it”
Astria rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever you say, princess. just pick something already.” She wandered toward a section of darker, understated clothing, her fingers trailing over the fabric, looking at the extravagant prices. “Why would anyone wear something so expensive when it only provides warmth like any other fabric?”
Astria sighed, searching through the racks. She wasn’t shopping to buy anything, of course—why would she? This was just a way to pass the time in this perfume-choked prison. Dressing the part wasn’t her problem; it was someone else’s headache entirely. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Emilia approaching, a mischievous glint in her gaze. Astria turned away. Her life force wasn't ominous anyway, not like it ever could be, she thought.
Emilia strutted up and bumped into Astria. “Oops! Accident,” she said with a quick bow.
The scarf around Astria’s neck slipped revealing her pointy ears making Emilia stare.
“So in reality you're some kind of bigshot around here, huh? With Jinni going through all that trouble to get you captured?” Astria said as she turned yet another outfit inside out. “I don’t buy it. You don’t seem all that confident to me.”
Emilia, about to touch her pointy ears, paused and straightened, narrowing her eyes at Astria. “What do you mean, not confident? I just… I’m not good at talking to strangers. That’s all.”
Astria waved a hand, glancing over at Emilia. “That’s it? What’s there to be scared of? They're just humans. Not dragons. Not grand mages, just weak humans”
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Emilia’s eyes sparked as she edged closer to Astria, leaning in. “Grand mages? That’s a new one!” She pulled out her journal and clicked her pen, ready for action.
Astria stared at her for a moment, then shoved Emilia’s face away. “Must you ask about everything?”
“Yes”
Astria sighed and turned to face her again. Emilia didn’t budge, her materials in hand, eager for more. With a reluctant exhale, she spoke as Emilia wrote word for word. “They’re the second-highest hierarchy of elves in my home city. Their energy control is unmatched, which makes them excellent servants of the Mistress of the Earth.”
“Mistress of the Earth?” Emilia’s eyes widened, her pen already hovering over the page.
Astria shot her an exasperated look. “Are you ever done with your questions?”
Emilia shook her head. “Not even close.”
“Oh mother of Mikah! Is that an elf?!” a girl screamed.
Astria froze, touching her ears. Her scarf had slipped off. She sighed, lowering her head and raising it back up only to see Emilia who was once so curious now humming to herself, as she examined another rack of dresses in the distance.
“Really?” she muttered.
Before Astria could say another word, girls—many of them, making it feel like hundreds—swarmed around her, their screams of excitement echoing throughout the store.
“Are you really an elf?”
“Can I touch your ears?”
“What shampoo do you use?!”
They began shoving each other causing an uproar in the store. The boutique workers, instead of calming the chaos, joined in, drawn by the sheer novelty.
Astria stood still at the centre of the chaos, her expression calm as the girls tugged at her shirt and reached for her golden hair. In an instant, the world faded to grey as she navigated through the crowd of ladies with ease and made her way toward Emilia's back.
“I told you I didn't want to attract attention,” she said, facing Emilia, moving slowly in time. The gown in her hands was rumpled, and her head lowered.
But then, a subtle smile tugged at Astria’s lips. "I knew it. You do have confidence issues," she said, walking past Emilia. “Jinni must have mistaken you for someone else. There’s no way you’re actually important. You can’t even get these simple humans to leave me alone. After everything you said about me being your elf prince—”
She halted mid-step, remembering the scene back at the entrance of the Cadenza Court. Her expression softened, and her fist clenched at her side. “If you really are someone important,” she said, her voice quiet but firm, “then act like it.”
Astria shook her head with a sigh as she walked away, still muttering under her breath. “Can’t believe I’m doing this. I promised to help her out, though. Damn you, Tori. What in the hell did you drag me into?”
Emilia lifted her head, sensing someone right behind her. No, it wasn’t just a sense—she felt it. Her eyes drifted to the crowd of women surrounding Astria, their excited cries relentless.
She sighed, her gaze flicking over to the racks of clothing. Slowly, she dropped the dress she’d been holding, her fingers grazing the fabric. “Do you know,” she began, her voice now sharp and unyielding, “how long I’ve waited for this moment? To finally get my elf prince?”
She moved to the back of the crowd, her head lowered, and her eyes darker than midnight.
Astria still stuck in the crowd growled as she watched Emilia. “I shouldn’t have come back here,” she whispered. “Better to leave again and we both go to another store-“
“Excuse me,” Emilia said.
The crowd didn’t respond. They ignored her, still bustling around as if she were invisible. But Emilia’s eyes, cold and dark, locked onto them, and the air shifted.
“I said, leave the way,” she whispered, her voice like the rustling of dead leaves.
A chill swept through the room like the cold breath of a ghost. The temperature plummeted, and with it, the room seemed to close in, the walls feeling closer, the air thicker. A heavy, suffocating weight pressed down, making every breath feel like a struggle. Emilia took a single step forward, the crowd shook as they held themselves, creating a path for her.
The energy around Emilia coiled and thickened, an unseen force bending the very air around her, royally commanding. The ground beneath them seemed to tremble, and the particles in the air hummed with power like they could shatter into dust at a moment’s notice. The people in the crowd froze, their legs shaking as their eyes widened in terror. Their hands trembled, their minds empty. They couldn’t think, couldn’t move—just paralysed under her force.
Without a word, they lowered their heads, stepping back from her like frightened animals. Emilia walked past them, her path clear, their eyes glued to the floor.
Astria, still stuck in the crowd, felt a chill of her own as she watched Emilia.“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she breathed.
Emilia’s steps slowed as she arrived beside Astria. The heavy energy that had filled the room evaporated in an instant, as if it had never been there at all. She looked up at Astria, her expression softening, her eyes returning to their warmth as she gave a bright smile to her. She linked her arm with Astria’s and then turned back toward the crowd, her voice cutting through the silence with a cheerful politeness.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a wave. “But could you please stop disturbing my teammate here? We’re in a bit of a hurry, and we need some outfits. Would you be kind enough to help us out?”
Astria stared down at Emilia, her thoughts swirling. The transformation in Emilia was unmistakable—she wasn’t the same as before. Even with the power that had filled the room, she knew that was Emilia.
“Emilia? You okay?” Astria asked.
“Of course,” Emilia replied with a beaming smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
The workers and customers, now shaken, bowed in apology.
"No, please don't think too much about it," she said, waving a hand.
She turned back to Astria, enjoying the feeling of their arms crossed. “Now, let’s get you something to wear. I’ve got the perfect idea.”
Astria’s face turned pale as she heard that, hoping deep within that it was a joke. Knowing well already that it's not.
*
Nathan stood by the window of his office, his gaze fixed on the chaos below, the destruction caused by Pasta unfolding before his eyes. His monocle caught the light as he stroked his moustache and beard. "His movements are improving with each day," he said turning back. "I see our methods are still proving effective."
Zyrion who stood at a respectful distance kept his head bowed and voice low. "Pasta is an interesting boy, as you said. After his sister's death, I thought for sure he would sink into despair. If not that, then the rigorous, traditional training of the Falcrest family should've broken him for sure"
Nathan glanced back at him, his dark suit adorned with a violin emblem, his tone reflective. "Pasta is a strong boy. I've seen him make Emilia laugh, time and time again. I wonder... is he trying to heal from Lisa’s death, or is he simply distracting himself? I can only hope it's the latter"
He took a seat at his desk, the smooth wood polished and uncluttered except for a few well-placed books and a family photograph. He began signing some documents. Zyrion stepped forward, speaking with respectful caution.
"Speaking of Emilia, I hear the experiment on her was successful?"
Nathan continued signing, his voice unfazed. "I’m no man of science, Zyrion, so the details escape me. But who could have predicted that forcing her to comprehend the teachings of every Grand Lord family would impact her lifeforce in such a way? Mother Missui truly is extraordinary and well grounded in her research to make such a discovery."
Zyrion hesitated but pressed on. "Forgive me for asking, but... aren’t you concerned? The title of Enforcer—We both know it's a lie the lords put together to benefit from their trades. They use her as a pawn to the public, while they sit comfortably in their mansions."
Nathan didn’t look up from his work, his pen gliding across the paper. "It’s inevitable," he said. "The Nine Lords will never change. An Enforcer they'll all respect? A child at that. It’s laughable."
Zyrion’s brow furrowed. "Then why agree to it?"
Nathan dropped his pen and faced Zyrion, and cleaned his face with a napkin. "Power," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Puppet or not, she’ll be an Enforcer, part of an elite team selected by the Grand Lords themselves tasked with overseeing the Nine Realms' activities. Being her father will open many doors—contracts, properties, and confidential information. Everything will be within my reach."
Zyrion exhaled a slow sigh. "The title of Enforcer is just a facade. It’s a role designed to create a personality that aligns with their interests like a mascot to be paraded around." He spoke in a quiet, stoic tone. "Your daughter will be a sacrifice for their peace. Do you think she’ll comply? She’ll never know freedom again."
Nathan’s eyes darkened as he leaned forward, his gaze cold as he crossed his arms on the desk. "Sacrifice is a strong word, Zyrion," he said. "But this is for her own good. Do you think I want to put my daughter in that position? You think I want to watch my family become pawns? I’m not blind to the dangers. The Velmoré and Falcrest families may have supported my marriage, but not the other Lords who feared a consolidation of power that could threaten the balance of the realms. They’re after me, after my wife, after my children. They’ve already hunted down my first daughter. I can’t lose them. Not now. This treaty—it’s not just for the Nine Realms, it’s for my family’s survival. If making one of my children a pawn is what it takes to save them all—if it means saving millions of lives—then so be it."
Zyrion remained silent for a moment, his eyes thoughtful, before speaking again. "Lord Mikah asked me to deliver a message," he said, his voice calm but with a hint of respect. "Your name will go down in history as the man who brought peace to this kingdom. When we meet again, my friend, let’s share a cup of tea and cookies, something to lighten our spirits."
Nathan wiped away the few tears that had escaped his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. "That man... always with his strange words," he whispered, turning to look at Zyrion. "I see you’re off then. Thank you again for training Pasta. He needs a strong brother, even if he is a bit of a nutcase."
Zyrion smirked, a playful gleam in his eyes. "It's the least I could do to help, cousin. Just take care." He paused for a moment, then added, "I heard he’s even developed a fear of me. I hope he gets over it someday."
Nathan smiled, wiping his eyes and sniffling as he returned to his work.
With a bow, Zyrion approached the door, sensing the soft energy of someone waiting just beyond it. He sighed, his hand hovering over the door handle before he knocked. He waited, but when he opened the door, no one was there.
Emilia ran through the hall, tears streaming down her cheeks. She hid her face behind a large book, hoping no one would see her, praying that the things she had heard were nothing more than a lie. What was she training for? What was the point of it all? Why couldn’t she be free like the other children?
She passed Aunt Maria, who was cleaning off the dirt from her clothes, but Emilia didn’t stop. Maria stretched a hand toward her but didn’t speak, seeing the girl’s distress and chasing after her. Emilia reached her room and shut the door behind her with a heavy thud.
Leaning against the door, Emilia sobbed. Everyone’s a liar, she thought. I’ll never be allowed out, never be free. When I’m older, I’ll just be an Enforcer, stuck in a room like now. Nothing, nothing's ever going to change. She hugged herself, wiping her face. I wish I wasn’t a Falcrest, maybe if I were the daughter of a maid, I could go out into the city whenever I wanted. Then… She sniffled, wiping away another tear. Then maybe everything would be different.
"Why was Father crying?" she asked herself, her voice trembling. She clutched herself as her book fell to the floor. She hurried to pick it up, dusting it off before opening a fresh page. She wiped her face again, sniffing as she stared at the pictures on the page. "Father was also sad about it," she whispered. "He doesn’t like those Lords either. They tried to separate him and Mother... and they killed Big Sis."
Her eyes, though clouded with tears, burned with fierce anger. "I hate them," she whispered. "They made Father cry... I hate them. I hate them!"
Emilia wiped the remaining tears from her face, her gaze steady as she opened a fresh chapter in her book. "I’ll show them," she whispered, holding the book up. "I’ll become an Enforcer. But I’ll do it my way."