Talos Continent, Year 996, January 5th. Medith rose at seven, as always. The city had found its rhythm, yet habit clung like moss in shade.

She washed fast, then, rare for her, slipped into a fresh outfit—an off-shoulder green dress like new leaves in spring. The hem sat ten centimeters above her knees.

Her long legs, smooth as carved jade, stepped into green high-heeled sandals. The ensemble caught her growing glow like dawn gilding dew.

Not sure if it’s tied to those two... she thought, heels tapping like sparrows along stone. Those two witches had been squeezing her like sugarcane.

The only upside was the win-win look of it. In her old shell, she’d have withered into a dried husk like bark in drought.

“Co… Commander.” A few female Sprites of the Dusk Legion almost didn’t recognize her. Their eyes skittered like minnows, never daring to meet those legs.

Medith said nothing. She nodded coolly and moved on. Faces flushed, they stared at her graceful back like moths dazed by a lantern.

“Ah… the city’s lively again,” someone sighed, voices buzzing like cicadas in afternoon heat.

“Tell me about it. Guards everywhere, clack-clack boots like beetles down the lanes.”

“It’s that little girl’s doing. Last time it was those strange beads. Without them, we wouldn’t have this ant-nest fuss.”

“Right? Her Majesty the Queen—years of building a paradise, and now it’s getting trampled like a garden after a storm?”

“Watch your tongue. The Queen isn’t destroying. She’s shoring up the levee before the rain. If humans come in, you’ll be first in the rush.”

“Hey, did you hear? Her Majesty’s been in and out of the General’s palace, over and over—doors swinging like fans.”

“Old news. They were cuddling in the park like a pair of mandarin ducks.”

“No wonder her attitude flipped so fast, like wind turning reeds.”

Medith passed the park, the whispers swirling like dry leaves in a courtyard. The ladders between noble and common districts had been lifted like gates swung wide.

Sprites could come and go regardless of rank. But the core noble ring stayed barred, like heartwood around the council hall.

Medith and her group had their quarters among those inner buildings, tucked like embers behind iron.

“Sigh… fame draws trouble,” Medith murmured, leaning on an iron fence cool as riverstone. Her long, round legs stretched and crossed like ivory boughs.

Milia wore a white short-sleeve tee and black hotpants, youth bright as milk over ink.

“Eh? Milia, where’d you get this set? Never seen this fabric or cut. It’s tempting…” Iling tugged the shirt and those black shorts, marveling like a magpie with silk.

“It was waiting in my room. Well? Am I cool or not?” Milia swayed left and right like a willow in a light breeze.

“Why isn’t my room stocked? No way, I’m going back to look.”

“They’re just hotpants… I’ve got a few at home,” Melia said, unimpressed, a cat’s tail flick in her voice.

“Honey, what’s the plan lately?” Sais nestled against Medith’s shoulder, small-bird gentle. “Why not retire here? Ask her, and we’ll build a cabin on a mountaintop.

“You hunt and pick fruit. I cook and keep house. By day, we talk under cloud shade. At night, we curl together like two warm stars.

“Even immortals would envy us. We’ll put it under our Lily Tree, like the other night. How’s that?”

“How’d we jump to that?” Medith’s gaze turned wistful, drifting across an endless blue sky like a sea of porcelain. “It’s time to plan for the Divine Stone.”

“Huh? I thought your Xier was just for show.” Sais’ voice carried sour vinegar, jealousy stinging like smoke. One Queen getting a share of Medith already hurt.

“I said I love her. That won’t change,” Medith answered, serious as a blade set to whetstone.

“Alright, I get it. Then what’s your plan?” Sais asked, tone straight as a drawn line.

Medith let a faint smile bloom and walked toward the Queen’s palace. “Let’s ask the Queen. I want more answers.”

They strolled into the Queen’s palace. The Queen sat on her bed, cradling a book etched with patterns like climbing vines.

Creak— the door swung open. The Queen smiled like a spring crescent. “You’re here?”

Only Medith came and went freely here, even holding a key to her own room, a small fish-scale of trust.

Medith coughed, awkward. Behind her, Sais entered with a frost-cool face, the others in tow like petals in a breeze.

Sais met the Queen’s gaze with winter eyes. After days, they still hadn’t settled; two blades that hadn’t found their sheath.

They’d only struck a temporary truce, paper over a crack in stone.

“Oh my, everyone’s here? Something big? Are you coming to impeach me?” The Queen set down a white book like a bone tablet and sat cross-legged.

She wore a loose shirt and sleep pants, a glimpse within like moon behind thin cloud—temptation soft as mist.

“Your Majesty, that’s too heavy… I’m here to ask about the Divine Stone. How much do you know?” Medith’s words slid into honorifics like incense curling upward.

The Queen didn’t mind. “You… still intend to do this?” Her voice fell like winter rain on bamboo.

Medith nodded, firm as a hammered seal. The Queen sighed softly. Her eyes dimmed like clouds over lake, then cleared again.

She pulled a heavy tome from under the bed, a hexagram circle on the cover like a wheel of stars. It looked grand, but it was just a book. She flipped it open and let the pages sigh.

“About the Divine Stone, we parse tales from the Ancestor Master of ancient days,” she said, her expression tangled like roots.

“Few humans study its history now. Only we still enshrine it like a hearth fire. Its power has bewitched humankind.”

Medith took the book and skimmed. Pages whispered like dry leaves. There were few firm clues.

Most entries rambled like rain across uneven tiles. Legends blurred and wavered. Only the piece that matched the Queen’s tale aligned.

“Open to page 1024.” The Queen leaned in, shoulder to shoulder with Medith like two cranes at a stream. Sais sprang up and pulled her away like a cat snatching ribbon.

The Queen rolled her eyes, silver fish flashing in a dark pond. Why assume she was taking advantage of everything?

Medith let it slide and flipped fast. “Here it is…

‘The Divine Stone fell when the Ancestor Master carried the Sky-Spear. It holds unrivaled power. It’s a keystone of the continent’s order.

‘The four largest pieces are held by four humans, and each founded a nation like pillars on plains.

‘Many shards remain scattered across earth. For mortals to gather them is near impossible, like picking stars from a river.

‘Our kind communes with nature and can sense them. Stand near, and you feel a chill that bristles to the bone, like frost under fur. The colder it is, the larger the Stone.

‘The Ancestor Master foretold: after a thousand years, the Divine Child will return to the land. He will shape this continent’s pattern like a hand on wet clay.

‘If that day comes, aid him with all your strength, and fulfill the Ancestor Master’s wish.’”

Medith finished and nodded, satisfied, like a stamp set clean in wax.

The women fell into thought, shadows pooling under eaves. “So that’s it… We didn’t feel that bone-deep cold in the Royal Capital.

“Does that mean the Divine Stone isn’t in the Royal Capital?”

Milia pinched her chin, thinking, a crane’s beak over ripples. “Not necessarily. Impado saturates the Royal Capital like iron filings in the air.

“Impado might block our sense. That stuff restrains our magic hard, like a lid on a pot.”

Medith’s eyes turned resolute, steel bright under sun. “No matter what, I won’t hesitate.

“It’s not just my mission— it’s its desire. In feeling and in reason, I must see it done.”