The Dark Before The Light

Bella chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as they strolled down the stone path. "You mean knock all the senses into him. Honestly, the guy overthinks everything."

Acacia smirked. "He wouldn't be Edwin if he didn't. But... he's trying."

They paused by a fountain, where sunlight danced across the rippling surface. Birds flitted through the trees, their cheerful songs softening the silence.

Bella leaned against the stone edge, glancing sideways. "Do you think he's ready? For all of this?"

Acacia hesitated, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. "No," she said softly. "But none of us were. We just… became ready when we had no other choice."

Bella tilted her head, amused. "That's deep. Didn't know you had philosopher mode unlocked."

"I've got many modes," Acacia replied with a sly grin. "Including the one where I drag Edwin back by the collar if he tries to bolt."

They both laughed, tension briefly melting away.

Bella looked back at the mansion. "Let's just hope he breaks before he bends. But this place… It's beautiful. Feels weird, doesn't it? Like the world isn't ending."

Acacia nodded, eyes sweeping across the vibrant garden. "It does feel different."

"A nice distraction from all the mess," Bella said quietly.

Acacia's gaze shifted and caught movement in the distance. A figure passes through the corridor. Imiys. He paused when he spotted them, then changed direction, heading into the garden with his hands folded behind his back.

"Oh, Vessel, you look absolutely astonishing," he said, voice smooth as silk as he approached.

"Thanks... I guess." Acacia replied, eyes narrowing as she looked him over before meeting his gaze.

"No need to be wary," Imiys said, stopping a little too close for comfort. "I am Edwin's cousin, after all. Our first meeting was just… unfortunate."

He bowed politely to Bella before turning his full attention to Acacia.

'Why so close?' Acacia thought.

"So, tell me, Vessel—"

"First of all, personal space." Acacia pressed a hand firmly against his chest, pushing him back a step. His eyes widened in surprise. "Second, I'm not in the mood for conversations today. Try again tomorrow."

With that, she dropped her hand and turned to Bella. "Let's find Edwin."

"Gladly," Bella nodded, already walking.

The two women left the garden without looking back, leaving Imiys alone among the flowers, the air behind them heavy with tension.

They entered the main building and walked down the long hallway, the soft echo of their sandals tapping against the tiled floor. The silence clung to the air, broken only by their quiet footsteps. As they looked around, their eyes landed on the throne room ahead an area that had started to feel strangely familiar.

Inside, a lone figure stood in front of the throne, his gaze distant.

Acacia stepped forward, her brows drawing together as she recognised Edwin. His lavender-blue hair was neatly styled, more polished than usual, and his eyepatch bore a small mountain design. He wore flowing blue robes, regal and composed yet his expression was far away.

"Edwin," Acacia called.

He didn't react.

She frowned and glanced at Bella, who let out a quiet sigh and stepped up beside her. Clearing her throat, Bella raised her voice.

"Edwin!"

He flinched slightly, shoulders tensing as he turned around. Surprise flickered in his eyes before his face smoothed into a blank mask.

"Why are you yelling? I'm right here."

"I did call you," Acacia said, arms folding across her chest. "You just looked... lost. Want to get anything off your chest before you explode?"

"I'm fine," he replied flatly.

"Don't even try that," Bella cut in, her tone sharp.

"Ugh… sometimes I wish you were ignorant," he said with a bitter chuckle, eyes distant as he stepped forward. The silence that followed felt heavier than it should have.

"Because maybe then… this wouldn't haunt me so much." He stopped, shoulders sagging.

"I'm not my brother. I never was. I try to lead, to fill the space he left but it's like the crown knows I don't belong. Even the throne looks at me like I'm some impostor."

Acacia watched him for a moment, her expression softening as she lowered her arms.

"You keep chasing a ghost, and it's tearing you apart. You don't have to be better than him, Edwin. You just have to be real. Be you. That's what people need."

Bella's voice was quieter, but her words were steady. "He's gone. But you're still here. And maybe that's not about replacing him. Maybe it's about being the kind of leader only you could ever be."

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"Thanks for the motivation," Edwin said with a tired sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Doesn't really work, but… I appreciate the sentiment." Without waiting for a response, he turned toward the hallway, muttering under his breath. As he walked, he paused by a column and looked around as if confused before he called softly for a maid, giving her a quiet instruction.

Acacia arched a brow as they followed the servant.

"You don't know your own home anymore?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

"It's been years," Edwin replied, rolling his eyes. "Give me a break."

The hallway opened into a lavish dining room, the air noticeably warmer. Polished stone floors reflected flickering lantern light, and the scent of something rich, sweet, and spiced was already drifting through the space like incense. The long wooden table stretched ahead of them, set with embroidered runners and empty goblets. Nearby, a trolley stood unattended, covered dishes glinting faintly under silver lids.

Acacia's nose twitched at the unfamiliar aroma thick and alluring, like smoked honey laced with sea breeze. It clung to the air, mixing with floral undertones and something faintly metallic, warm and weighty.

She glanced around. No servants approached. No utensils clinked. Everything was still.

They each took a seat just as a door opened, and Edwin's mother stepped into the room.

Her gown flowed around her like running silk, her posture straight, regal. In her hands, she carried a single bowl cradled carefully, steam rising from it in graceful ribbons. She walked with purpose, a quiet pride shining in her eyes as she approached Edwin and placed the bowl in front of him, her hands lingering on its edges.

"Take it, my son," she said softly, almost reverently.

"Thank you, Mother." Edwin accepted the bowl with a faint smile, and the moment felt strangely ceremonial.

Acacia narrowed her eyes at the gesture. 'Why deliver it personally?' She wondered, watching Edwin as he met her gaze and calmly took the first bite.

At a signal, his mother's hands clapped gently, and the rest of the maids finally moved. They approached silently, placing steaming bowls before Acacia and Bella with a synchronised grace.

The dish glowed.

Inside the carved stone bowls lay slices of glistening roasted meat its skin amber and slightly crisp, dusted with what looked like crushed moonlight. Iridescent pearls shimmered like stardust against the sticky fig glaze that pooled around the edges, fragrant and intoxicating. A soft bed of golden squash purée cradled the meat, ringed with delicate, dark petals of black lotus, their edges curled like inked paper.

Acacia leaned closer, letting the scent fill her senses. It was unlike anything she'd tasted or smelled sweet with age, sea-salted and ancient, as though cooked over driftwood under a dying sun. It felt ceremonial, almost sacred.

"This is Pearl-Crusted Sea Bird," Edwin said, voice low as he placed his spoon down. "A traditional dish served when a king returns home… or when an heir is born."

"It's a rare seabird," his mother added, eyes gleaming, "bathed in saffron wine, slow-roasted, and crusted with crushed white pearls and sun-dried fig glaze. Served on a purée of golden squash from the mountain harvest and garnished with hand-picked black lotus petals."

"Pearls?" Bella asked, hesitating over the sparkling dust.

"It's edible mineral powder," Edwin replied with a shrug. "Refined, purified. Rich in… symbolism."

Acacia stared down at her bowl again. 'Everything in this dish screams legacy,' she thought.

This isn't just food. This is history. Expectation. And yet she took a slow bite, savouring the layers melting on her tongue and found it… hauntingly good.

Acacia took another bite, savouring the rich, lingering sweetness of the fig glaze as it danced across her tongue. Beside her, Bella let out a soft, muffled hum of approval, her spoon scraping the last traces of golden purée from her bowl. Servants moved soundlessly around them, setting down crystal glasses filled with water that shimmered in the golden light.

Minutes passed in quiet eating, the clink of utensils and faint rustle of fabric the only sounds in the room. Acacia set her spoon down, exhaling softly, a subtle warmth curling in her belly the comfort of being full, of being fed not just food, but peace.

'I missed this feeling,' she thought, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a slow sip.

She glanced at Bella's now-empty bowl with a small, knowing smile, before a voice cut gently through the calm.

"How… are you?"

Edwin paused mid-motion, a napkin pressed lightly to his lips. He raised an eyebrow, the crease between his brows deepening.

"…What?"

His mother held his gaze, her voice steady but quiet. "Answer the question. How have you been? How have you…coped?"

Acacia stilled, fingers gently setting her glass down with a soft clink. Her gaze shifted to Edwin.

"I coped just fine," he said, his voice low, tired but honest. "I had a group of friends who helped me through everything." He paused, exhaling sharply before leaning back in his chair. "So, I'm fine."

His mother's eyes flicked to Bella and Acacia, something warm flickering behind the regal mask she wore. Her voice softened.

"Thank you… for taking care of my son."

Bella straightened, waving her hands lightly with a sheepish smile. "Oh, you don't have to thank us. We weren't the only ones. And honestly, he was already capable enough on his own."

"Even so," his mother said, her smile lingering. "I still want to say it. And I wish I could thank the others too. My boy…" She looked at Edwin again, her tone fond, laced with aching pride. "You look stronger than I imagined you would. Sharper. Just…" Her eyes flicked gently to the patch over his eye. "Except for that. Did you… lose it in battle?"

The question hovered like a delicate thread, stretched taut.

"…Yes," Edwin murmured, voice quiet and clipped.

"I see." Her gaze lingered on Edwin's face quietly searching before turning to Acacia. "Oh, and vessel, I never caught your name earlier."

"Acacia, ma'am," she replied politely, though her posture stiffened as she felt Behemoth coil slightly around her neck, sensing the attention.

"Acacia and Lucia," the older woman echoed with a soft smile. "Lovely names. And may I ask, what brings a vessel to our midst? Are you here as a messenger from the gods, sent to save us?"

'I don't know. No one gave me that instruction. I've only ever heard one god... and barely understand him.' Acacia groaned internally. 'If I say that, I'll sound incompetent and maybe I am. I still don't know what I'm meant to do.'

"I'm... not sure yet," she admitted, voice even. "But once I visit the Pit, perhaps my path will become clearer."

"The Pit," the woman repeated with a knowing nod. "Fafea must've told you about it, then. So the connection is real…"

"…If you don't mind me asking," Acacia began, her curiosity pushing forward, "who exactly is Ramiel to Lalan?"

"He is considered one of our ancestors," the woman said, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "A priest who once served the kings of old. They say he was peculiar always distant, speaking in riddles. And then one day, he vanished. Some believe he entered the Pit and died after glimpsing something unholy."

She glanced toward the far end of the room, as though remembering a long-lost story. "All that remains is his book filled with strange accounts about the Pit. Beyond that, he became a myth."

"It was always just a folk tale," Edwin chimed in with a shrug. "No one really took him seriously. I don't get why he's suddenly become important."

"That's because Lani-ka's grandmother reopened our eyes," his mother replied with calm conviction. "She revisited the old stories and reminded us that the curse on our land may be the consequence of our forgotten sins. And now, with a vessel among us..." Her eyes glinted with reverence. "It means the gods haven't abandoned Lalan."

'That weird old woman from earlier...' Acacia thought, brow tightening slightly. 'I'll need to speak with her before going near that Pit. I need answers.'

"You shouldn't be listening to a woman with one foot in the grave," Edwin muttered into his glass, his tone dry. "But I'll admit… there are some patterns worth noting."

"Don't be rude," his mother snapped gently, the reprimand striking with the force of long-held authority. "I thought time had matured you. Yet you still cling to the resentment of a boy."

Edwin averted his gaze, jaw tightening as if swallowing words he wasn't ready to say.