The Emperor of Aetheria stirred before dawn.
He had not dreamed—only felt a coldness pressing against his ribs, as if the night itself had exhaled through him. He sat up slowly, the silk sheets falling to his lap, and stared at the far window where no light yet shone.
Something was missing.
The moon had not returned.
And neither had Elira.
---
Edmund rose without a word. He did not call for attendants. He did not dress in full robes. The palace halls outside his chamber were silent, respectful, careful—as they had been since the Solvaris Festival.
Two days had passed since the celebration.
Two days, and his wife was still missing.
At first, they thought she had gone to pray. Then to rest. Then perhaps she had returned to the temple sanctuary she favored when overwhelmed.
But the Emperor knew better.
She had left.
Not out of fear, but purpose.
---
He walked through the marble colonnade toward the nursery.
Inside, the cradle was untouched. The lullaby orb above it spun slowly, still casting soft light like a little star.
He touched it, gently, and the melody stopped.
"She would not have left without reason."
His voice was deep, steady, but low—meant only for the empty room.
Then: footsteps.
Sir Kairon appeared, his silver armor half-fastened, a dark cloak draped over his shoulder. The young knight bowed, his jaw tight with restraint.
"There's no trace of her, sire. Not in the temple, not beyond the eastern bridge. The guards found footprints near the high priest's tunnel—but nothing beyond that."
"She went east," Edmund said softly.
"Yes. Toward the Vale."
They both fell silent.
No one entered the Whispering Vale and returned unchanged. Many never returned at all.
---
Kairon hesitated before speaking again. "Permission to summon the Umbra Veil?"
Edmund's eyes did not move from the cradle.
"Summon them. Quietly."
"And the other Houses?"
The Emperor finally turned. His gaze was distant but not lost. "Not yet. Let them wonder. Let them talk. But not yet."
Kairon bowed again and left swiftly.
---
In the hours that followed, the bells of Aetheria did not ring.
The people whispered of the moonless sky.
And in the high courts, veiled rumors began to spread:
The Empress had vanished.
The child of prophecy was born.
The balance was beginning to shift.
---
And far away, deep beneath the trees, the forest held its breath.