Craving Scarecrow

It had been seven days since Lyriel passed away. Eryndor was consumed by rage, while Aeris remained locked in her room, deeply traumatized. She hadn't spoken to anyone or set foot outside.

Eryndor, on the other hand, was relentless. He spent his days training with his father, his every move fueled by anger and guilt. Each evening, he visited Aeris's house, which was now under constant guard by royal soldiers.

"Hey, Aeris, say something, dammit!" Eryndor said one evening, sitting beside her on the bed. He reached for her hand, desperation in his eyes. "Please don't be like this. Are you really not going to talk to me?"

Aeris pulled her hand away sharply and slapped him. "You're the reason Lyriel died," she spat. Her voice was cold, her gaze distant. "If we had never been friends with you, this could have been avoided. Thanks to you and your royal status, Lyriel got killed. Leave, Eryndor. Never show your face again."

She turned away, looking out the window as if he no longer existed. Her words struck Eryndor like a blade, their venom piercing his heart.

He left her room without another word and returned to the palace. Alone in her room, Aeris brushed her cheek and stared into the night, her face unreadable.

That night, Eryndor lay face down on his bed, his pillow damp with tears.

A maid entered, carrying a tray of fruit. "Here is your food, Master Eryndor," she said softly.

"Leave it here and go," he replied without looking at her.

Claudine, the maid who had cared for him since childhood, noticed his distress. She placed the tray down and lingered, her expression filled with concern.

"I think you should end your friendship with that low-class elf, Aeris," Claudine said after a moment. Her voice was firm but laced with anger. "Why are you even friends with her? She's hurting you again and again. How dare she!"

"Don't say anything bad about her!" Eryndor snapped, sitting up abruptly. "She's just hurt. Can't you see? She doesn't want me to get hurt. That's why she scolded me!"

His outburst startled Claudine, and he immediately softened, realizing his mistake. He knelt before her. "Please forgive me, Claudine."

Claudine sighed, her gaze heavy with sadness. She knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Did you make that assumption just to comfort yourself, Master? She was never your friend. She was only kind to you because of your status. Forget her and Lyriel. Lead a quiet life. Revenge will lead nowhere; it will only bring pain to you and those who love you."

Eryndor looked away, his eyes brimming with tears. "What should I do? What's the right thing? I don't know anymore. Please, say something, Claudine."

Her pendant shimmered faintly as she hugged him tightly. "Rest for now, Master Eryndor. You'll find your answers in time."

Once he was asleep, Claudine stood and left the room, her face set with determination.

But Eryndor was not asleep. He opened his eyes, sensing something unusual. "Did I upset her? But I apologized...… Is she still angry?" He paced the room, restless.

Finally, he decided to follow her, slipping through the palace halls unnoticed. The night cloaked him in shadows, and he moved silently.

He trailed her through the quiet streets until she entered a house he knew all too well.

"Wait….... That's Aeris's house," he whispered, his heart sinking. "What is she thinking?"

Inside Aeris's room, Claudine stood before the elf, her expression grim. Aeris sat on the bed, her gaze tired but curious.

"You're from the royal palace," Aeris said. "Why are you here?"

Claudine hesitated, her voice breaking. "I need your help."

Aeris raised an eyebrow, then reached for a glass of water on the bedside table. "How can I help you?"

Claudine's hands trembled as she pulled a knife from behind her back. "Please…... just die for Eryndor's sake."

The glass slipped from Aeris's hand, shattering on the floor. Water spread across the wooden planks, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she watched Claudine with a strange calm.

"Ever since you became his friend, Eryndor's life has been in ruins," Claudine said, her voice shaking. "He works tirelessly, training day and night, consumed by thoughts of vengeance and protecting you. He's forgotten himself. Please, just die. Free him from this suffering." Tears streamed down her face as she raised the knife.

Aeris smiled faintly, a mixture of sorrow and acceptance. "You're right," she said quietly. "I made him even sadder today. I only wanted to protect our future king, but I've caused more harm. We were never meant to be friends. I accept it. Just tell him to live a happy life." She tilted her head, exposing her neck. "Don't cry. For someone like you, a mother figure, it must be unbearable to see him like this."

Claudine's hand trembled as she stepped forward, the knife poised to strike.

"Stop!"

Eryndor's voice rang through the room as he burst in, grabbing Claudine's arm.

"Eryndor!" Aeris gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

Claudine turned to him, her expression torn between relief and despair. "You don't understand, Master—"

"Enough!" Eryndor's voice cracked, his eyes filled with anger and anguish. "What are you doing, Claudine?!"

For a moment, silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft drip of water from the shattered glass.