"Your Majesty, you sent for me." An elder with white whiskers like winter frost shuffled in, his steps rustling like fallen leaves.

The Queen had set aside her crown and Scepter like moon and star at rest; her long hair flowed like quiet water. She lifted the kneeling seer like a breeze lifting reed. "Seer, no need for ceremony; this isn’t a public hall."

"Hehe, Your Majesty came because of Medith?" The seer stroked his beard like combing cloud, eyes bright as a sky of stars.

"You truly are learned," the Queen said, voice calm as a placid lake. "I admired that girl. She mirrors my youth—blood hot as sunrise, fearless as cliff wind—stirring old tales in my bones."

"But years have cooled me like autumn rain. Endless wars grind into ash; ministers ache, the world aches, I ache, even innocent humans are dragged into the storm like fallen leaves."

"Isn’t peace what we fight for, like seeking harbor after long gale? If peace stands open like a gate, why march into war?"

"So I abolished war edicts and spent centuries weaving wards like green canopies—over the Green Forest and over Xurenxus City—rings that keep thunder outside."

"I spent centuries softening wounds like snow on scars, letting my people live inside this fantasy grove like birds in a sheltered vale."

"They love me like spring sun; my peers lean on me like pillars. I thought I’d done well; I thought I was a good Queen."

"But her arrival shook that pillar like a tremor under roots. Am I… truly right?"

"Grandfather…" Her voice thinned like mist, and tears glazed her eyes like rain on lacquer.

The seer patted her head like settling dust on a book. "It’s already written like constellations. Meet her alone, speak once, and the road will clear like dawn."

He finished and drifted into white dust, scattering like snow in air.

The Queen pondered Medith’s remonstrance in the great hall, thoughts circling like swallows over a roof.

Talos Continent, Year 995, August 16, 8:30 a.m.

"Medith Waheit, this is a detention warrant. You’re under arrest!" Three Sprites in green-flower war armor strode up like grass in wind; Medith closed her eyes, calm as a still pond, as if she’d expected it.

Sais threw an arm before Medith like a bark shield. "No! You don’t get it. She’s our people’s hope. You don’t take her. If you swing, you pass me first."

"Big sis…" A soft voice came from beneath dense armor, thin as a reed whistle.

"Sais! You’re Royal Guard, and you’d raise blades for a mere girl? Don’t forget what your mother sacrificed for you two—"

"I warn you—don’t drag my mother in." Sais’s eyes flashed cold as steel, and her gaze whipped out like a Cyclone. The Cyclone skimmed past her armor and smashed the door behind into a spray of splinters.

"Sais." Medith stepped down from the bed with slow gravity, then put on her green Sprite attire like donning leaves. "Let’s go." She patted Sais’s shoulder like a quiet drum, hugged that water-snake waist, and Sais sighed like wind in reeds, turning into a breeze that drifted toward the Queen’s palace.

When Medith blinked back, she was already before a door like the twin of her own; only this one bore a green leaf like a seal, and on the leaf lay a long Scepter like a silver vein.

She pushed the door with a steady hand like launching a boat into fog and saw the Queen waiting, patient as a lantern. It looked like a study: tall shelves rising like forest trunks, a sea of books packed like waves on both sides.

At the center stood a long table like a bridge; a wooden chair sat inside, another outside like two stones by a stream. The Queen cradled a black book, staring into it like night water.

"Sit." The word fell light as dew. Medith reached the table, slid out the chair like drawing a blade, and sat. She didn’t bow; she didn’t speak.

"Can you see what’s inside?" The Queen flipped the book toward Medith, pages breathing like wings. Medith paused. The book was wordless, a blank shore of white.

"Empty?" she whispered, the sound small as sand. She had thought the Queen clutched some peerless secret, a mountain of thunder; instead, it was an empty sky.

The Queen’s face said, as expected, like winter knowing its snow. "Ah. Seems you aren’t…"

"Your Majesty, why did you call for me?" Medith let the book drift from mind like smoke.

The Queen smiled like a crescent. "Don’t call me ‘Queen’ now. This isn’t the council. I came as a friend. Call me Lahiss."

Medith startled like a bird, mind fluttering. She didn’t know if the smile hid a blade behind silk; she didn’t dare accept. "A subject keeps rites like stones. Ranks shouldn’t blur."

The Queen didn’t press. "You know you’re the first to dare call me out in public, like throwing a pebble at the moon?"

"I offered remonstrance, not blame," Medith said, voice steady as a plumb line. "You’re wise and mighty, eyes vast as a star river. You act for your people’s good. You need no war, only basic training for our Sprites."

"This will—"

"I know." The Queen cut in like a blade. "I climbed to the throne on war."

Her gaze turned blade-bright. "Medith, one question. Who are you, really?"

Boom! A stone dropped through Medith’s heart, ripples racing like rings on a lake. Cold sweat slid like rain. "I… I’m Medith…"

"Who are you?" the Queen asked again, a note like iron.

Medith lowered her head; her heart pounded—thump, thump, thump—like drums in fog. Panic swarmed like bees. What do I do? Truth or lie? If I say it, will she cut me down?

For almost ten minutes her thoughts circled like hawks. Then she bit down like breaking a twig. "Enough."

"Your Majesty. My original name is lost like footprints in surf; my face is gone like smoke; even this body has changed like clay reshaped. I was reborn from another world. But my loyalty to you won’t budge like a rooted tree, and my heart to plan for our people won’t dim like a lantern."

"If you can’t trust me, grant me death like a clean blade."

Queen Laxis heard and her eyes widened like amber stones, clear yet shock-frozen.

Medith gripped her skirt hem like a lifeline, nerves tight as bowstring; her small heart felt ready to jump from her throat like a fish.

"You… are truly a Divine Child?" Queen Laxis spoke a strange title like a bell in mist. "Then why can’t you see the divine will, like a blind star? Did you come down from above, or pop out from another world on a white flash?"

She leaned in close like warm summer, fragrance spilling like blossoms, her chest pressing like soft waves.

Medith dragged her chair back a few inches like scraping gravel. "I’m not a god. Frankly, I dislike gods. But a God did summon me here, and I did pop in on a white flash, like a door of light."

"…" Queen Laxis fell silent, thoughts folding like paper. After a moment she said, "I don’t know your tale, but I’ll judge with my own eyes. From today, you are you—you’re Medith, my subject, a Wind Sprite under this sky."

"I won’t pry into your past like a net in deep water. I won’t support your plan, but I won’t block you. Rally whoever you can with your own strength, like a banner in wind."

"Your Majesty…" Medith sounded unbelieving, voice trembling like a thin chord. "I swear to follow Your Majesty unto death. May our will endure forever, and may the world know no slaughter."

"May our will endure forever, and may the world know no slaughter." The Queen echoed, her hands moving by habit like a tide’s rhythm.

"Your Majesty…"

"I said in private, call me Lahiss." Lahiss smiled kindly like sunlight through leaves. Medith didn’t refuse. "Yes, Sister Lahiss."

They shared a look and a smile like two mirrors mended. "Sister Lahiss, is it truly fine to let go like this? Aren’t you afraid I’ll tear down the paradise you built like a storm… and what if I carry selfish aims?"

"I thought for a whole day like rain on stone and chose to compromise—with you, and with my youth. I won’t force my people to accept my thought; they should be free like birds. I’ll raise it at the next meeting."

"But don’t expect rewards, hm… since you’re ‘heinously guilty,’" she said with a half-laugh like a fox’s grin. "As for selfish aims, relax. I can read hearts like weather. If it ever turns that way, I’ll deal with it myself. Be ready."

Medith watched that easy scene like a hearth glow and recalled a bold, old time—when the Queen had just ascended and joked freely like wine. Pity—time, once long, thins all friendships like river water; jokes get heard as prophecy, intent gets twisted, and jokes harden into reality like ice.

"May I ask one thing, as a friend?" Medith bowed like a willow.

Lahiss cupped her cheeks with both hands like holding pears. "Say it. A secret between sisters; only we two will know like stones under snow."

Medith smiled, her first from the heart, soft as dawn. "Nothing grand. Please keep my origin hidden, Sister Lahiss. It’s too unbelievable; your faith is blessing enough. If it goes public, it’ll stir unknown currents."

"You think this Queen is a decoration?" Lahiss puffed her cheeks like a little bellows. "I know a thousand times better what would happen. Go rest. Didn’t you say time’s short?"

Medith gave a bitter little smile like tasting salt, bowed deep like bending bamboo, and left the study.

Queen Laxis watched her departing back like a receding tide, then looked at the blank book like an empty sky, and stood there for a long time.