"Sir, are you sure? Not telling her about the black market issue, that is why you had summoned her."
The king remained silent for a moment, fingers resting lightly against the arm of his chair.
“Perhaps,” he admitted at last. “But you heard the description of that girl as well, did you not?”
“I did,” the boy replied. “And that is precisely why I worry. If matters continue unchecked, banning Dreamrot may soon become impossible. We require her authority sooner rather than later.”
A long sigh filled the chamber.
“Haaaah… rushing her now would achieve nothing.” His gaze drifted toward the stained glass windows, where morning light bled through muted colors. “This will be a stepping stone for her. Growth cannot be forced.”
He paused, voice lowering with quiet certainty.
“With time… she will become something far greater. I know she will. A pillar strong enough to help reshape this society.”
“…Sir.”
Concern lingered in the reply, unspoken but heavy.
The man folded his hands together.
“For now, all we can do is wait.”
Silence settled between them.
“Wait for her to discover her faith…”
His eyes darkened slightly.
“…and wait for him to return with answers.”
The booth was divided cleanly down the middle. A thin wooden wall separated the two sides, interrupted only by a small rectangular opening at its center, large enough for two hands to meet, or for a small offering to pass from one side to the other.
Dark silk curtains covered the opening, their fabric soft and carefully maintained despite the structure's age. A white-silver pin held them closed, sealing the space in quiet privacy.
Below the opening, a narrow plank extended through the wall, forming a small dark table shared by both sides. Whether the surface was truly black or merely swallowed by shadow was impossible to tell; the booth hid its secrets well, allowing not even sun rays to invade.
Zarra clasped her hands upon the plank.
They trembled.
“It may sound foolish…” she began softly. “Trusting someone I met only yesterday.”
Her fingers tightened.
“But my intuition has never failed me. She seemed to be a victim of a territorial creature, badly injured, yet she smiled despite her pain.”
A small breath escaped her lips.
“I swore to protect those in need. And in that moment… I believed she was one of them.”
Her voice strengthened briefly, conviction pushing through uncertainty.
“I chose to help her. Guided by emotion, yes… but I truly believe it was the right decision.”
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The words faltered.
“…but…”
Silence settled inside the booth, heavy and patient.
Hidden behind the curtain, she confessed the rest — her father’s accusation, the old agreement forged between them, and the guilt she carried for abandoning her brother Julius to bear alone the burden of nobility she had cast aside.
When her voice finally faded, only quiet breathing remained.
The priest had listened without interruption.
Zarra could see nothing beyond the curtain, yet she sensed movement — calm, deliberate.
Cloth rustled softly.
A bag was placed upon the table on the other side.
One by one, three objects were removed and set carefully upon the plank between them.
A door stood before me, painted in a blue so pale it almost passed for white. Behind it waited the name I had heard again and again since arriving in this city.
Haju.
Sebastian opened the door without hesitation, and we stepped inside.
The room moved before I could.
A desk chair rolled smoothly across the floor as its occupant pushed himself away from a cluttered counter. Thick books lay open in uneven stacks, their pages filled with dense notes and strange diagrams. Glass vials, pills sorted into careful rows, and unfamiliar chemicals crowded the workspace beside a polished microscope. And among all that sterile precision—
A bouquet.
Green flowers with golden veins pulsing faintly beneath their petals.
Dreamrot...
The chair slid once more and stopped in front of us.
Blonde hair, long and neatly tied into a ponytail, swayed behind him as he adjusted his rectangular glasses. His emerald eyes carried dark circles beneath them — the unmistakable marks of someone who slept far less than they should — yet they shone with warmth.
He smiled.
Not with his mouth.
With his eyes.
Genuine compassion radiated from him before a single word was spoken.
Then I noticed his ears.
Long.
Elegant.
Adorned with small red earrings that caught the light when he tilted his head.
“An elf?…” I whispered to myself.
“Haju Raphael,” he said, voice gentle but alert, like a man whose mind never truly rested. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“And what does your heart truly tell you, child?” the priest asked gently.
Zarra hesitated.
“I… do not know,” she admitted. “I believe she is a good person. I want to, but my father’s words… they made sense. And once doubt took root, even slightly, I could no longer hear my own thoughts clearly.”
A quiet pause followed.
“I see…” the priest murmured, disappointment soft but present in his voice.
Zarra’s fingers tightened together atop the narrow plank.
“If I begin doubting my own instincts, Father… how can I trust myself to protect those who depend on me?”
The curtain rustled faintly as the priest shifted on the other side. A soft clink echoed as he placed something upon the shared table.
“Long ago,” the priest said, a small chuckle warming his voice, “I spoke these very same words… to another.”
Zarra lifted her head slightly.
“A pale young man once sat where you sit now. He asked me a question I never forgot.”
A pause.
“Is one truly a monster simply because their appearance differs from ours?”
Zarra swallowed.
“And… what was your answer?”
The priest did not respond immediately.
Instead, he slowly slid an object upon the plank.
“If you wish to protect the people,” he said at last, “then allow trust and caution to walk together.”
One by one, he revealed three items.
First:
A fork and spoon, polished to unnatural brilliance. A silver so holy, the gray became white. Folklore claimed that creatures cursed by darkness could not endure the metal; its touch forced hidden truths to surface.
Second:
The second item was a tiny vial of holy water, clear and cold. Blessed liquid, said to reveal what lay beneath borrowed shapes. When touched by beings who hid their nature, illusion would falter.
Third:
A ring.
Set within it shimmered a blue gem known as Heaven’s Tear. Soft light pulsed within the stone like a quiet heartbeat.
When worn by a human, it granted subtle fortune.
When worn by a monster…
it revealed what they truly were.
Zarra understood immediately.
These were not weapons.
They were answers.
“Faith and caution may coexist in harmony, child,” the priest said as he gathered his remaining items into his small pouch.
“Your instincts have carried you this far. They are the reason you still stand alive today. So listen carefully… what are they telling you now?”
Zarra accepted the items with quiet hesitation. She bowed deeply in gratitude before rising to leave. Despite not seeing it, the priest knew her well.
"You're welcome to seek guidance any time you need it."
Outside, sunlight filtered through the stained glass once more as she stepped onto the road toward home, prepared to face her doubts.
