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  The sun hung low in the sky in the middle of school break away from the academy before a new year starts, casting golden hues over Yohen as Si-Woo stirred from his afternoon nap. He blinked groggily, only to be jolted awake by the sound of hurried footsteps. Before he could fully register what was happening, Minho burst into the room, his face tight with anxiety.

  "Get up," Minho ordered, his voice urgent as he grabbed Si-Woo’s arm and pulled him to his feet.

  Si-Woo stumbled, his heart racing. "What’s going on?" he asked in a hurried tone, his confusion growing with each passing second.

  Minho didn’t respond. His grip was firm, almost unrelenting, as he dragged Si-Woo downstairs. "Put on your shoes," Minho barked, the command leaving no room for questions.

  At the sound of the commotion, Ha-Yoon appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide with fear. "What’s happening?" she called, her voice trembling.

  Minho glanced up at her, his expression softening for just a moment. "Stay here, Ha-Yoon," he said firmly. "Don’t leave the house."

  Ha-Yoon’s lips quivered as tears welled in her eyes. "But why? What’s going on?"

  Minho didn’t answer. He turned back to Si-Woo, practically shoving him out the door. The cool afternoon breeze did little to calm Si-Woo’s growing panic. He dug his heels into the ground, yanking his arm free from Minho’s grip.

  "What’s happening?" Si-Woo yelled, his voice cracking with desperation.

  But the sight before him stole the words from his mouth. His home was surrounded by Yohen’s military wyvern riders, their mounts prowling restlessly, their sharp eyes scanning the surroundings as if expecting an imminent attack. The riders themselves sat rigid, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight, their postures taut with readiness.

  Si-Woo turned back to Minho, his chest tightening. "Why are they here? What’s going on?"

  Minho grabbed his shoulders, his eyes searching Si-Woo’s face with an intensity that sent a chill down his spine. "I was wrong," Minho said, his voice thick with regret.

  "Wrong about what?" Si-Woo demanded, but before he could press further, Minho hauled him toward Lemmy, who was waiting nearby, his wings half-open as if sensing the urgency in the air.

  Minho lifted Si-Woo onto Z’s back with a strength that left no room for resistance. "Stay on him," Minho commanded.

  "Minho—"

  Minho cut him off with a sharp gesture, his eyes darting to the wyvern riders who now flanked them. "We don’t have time for this. Just hold on!"

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  Lemmy let out a shrill cry as his wings unfurled, and with a powerful leap, he took to the skies. The wind roared in Si-Woo’s ears as he clung to Lemmys neck, his mind racing with unanswered questions.

  Below them, some of the wyvern riders took flight, following closely behind, while others remained stationed around the house. The sight of Ha-Yoon’s tearful face disappearing in the distance gnawed at Si-Woo’s heart.

  They flew for what felt like an eternity, the familiar landscape of Yohen blurring beneath them until they reached a desolate field of tall grass that swayed gently in the breeze. The field stretched endlessly in every direction, empty save for the faint hum of tension in the air.

  As Lemmy descended into the desolate field, Si-Woo could make out several figures waiting below. Princess Deane stood at the forefront, her white hair shimmering under the fading light, but her expression was unlike anything Si-Woo had ever seen—grief-stricken, heavy with sorrow. Beside her stood King Morey, his imposing presence only adding to the gravity of the scene. Two fae guards flanked the king, their postures stiff and their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons.

  As Lemmy landed, Si-Woo dismounted hesitantly, his gaze flickering between the gathered figures. Before he could speak, Princess Deane rushed toward him, her light blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  Without a word, she took Si-Woo’s hand and began leading him toward a group of military guards gathered nearby. Her grip was firm, almost desperate. "I saw countless die," she said, her voice trembling, "from something I could have prevented." A single tear rolled down her cheek as she spoke, and Si-Woo’s heart sank at the raw emotion in her words.

  Si-Woo didn’t respond. His mind raced with questions, but the sight of the princess—normally so composed—rendered him silent. He let her guide him, though unease clawed at the edges of his consciousness.

  They stopped at the center of the military formation, where three concentric circles of fae soldiers sat cross-legged on the ground. Each soldier held a glowing serein stone in their hands, the stones pulsing faintly with energy. The air around them buzzed with an almost palpable tension, and Si-Woo felt the weight of countless eyes on him.

  Finally, he couldn’t stay silent any longer. "Princess," he began, his voice laced with worry, "what’s going on?"

  Princess Deane stopped, turning to face him. She cupped his cheeks with her hands, her touch warm but trembling. Her eyes met his, and in that moment, Si-Woo saw not just a ruler but someone deeply burdened by guilt and responsibility.

  "All I want you to do," she said softly, her voice almost pleading, "is cultivate. Just sit and meditate. Can you do that for me?"

  Si-Woo hesitated but then nodded, his trust in her outweighing his apprehension. "I can," he said quietly.

  Princess Deane gave him a faint, grateful smile before stepping back, her hands lingering for a moment before falling to her sides. She walked away from the center of the formation, her head held high despite the sorrow etched into her features.

  As Si-Woo lowered himself into a seated position at the very center of the circles, King Morey raised his hand. With a sharp snap of his fingers, a translucent barrier shimmered to life around Si-Woo, layered three times over. The barrier thrummed faintly, its edges glowing with a soft golden hue.

  Si-Woo glanced around, his unease growing as he realized the layers of protection were not just for show. Why do I need this much protection? he thought. But before he could dwell on the question, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus.

  The world around him faded as he centered himself. The familiar flow of serein within him became his anchor, steady and calming. Whatever was happening, Si-Woo resolved to do as Princess Deane asked. For now, he would meditate.