Eventide Scriptures I - The Shattering of an Era

Chapter 1 - Half Moon Tower

Taran sat at the edge of the Half Moon tower. One side of the tower had been sheared off, leaving the empty rooms between his dangling legs enshrouded in shadow. He was fond of this place. From here his gaze could follow the river that, after meandering and slicing through mountains, ended in Arvane. His birthplace.

There, his father, mother, and younger sister awaited his return. His second younger sister was still in the womb when he left Arvane. He also heard that his mother gave birth to another younger sister while he was in exile. He longed to meet them all.

Fayra was beside him, her fingers tucking her hair behind her ear. Beneath her knee-length skirt, her bare feet dangled. The spring sun atop the mountains separating Arvane and Wyndor made her hair appear as if it had just been poured from a smelting furnace.

"Fayra, do you know where the name Half Moon comes from?"

She turned. Her green eyes meeting his. Not the Crown Prince of Arvane or The Hostage, but him.

"You know I don't, that's why you ask. So why, Bookworm?"

"In the past, when the founding Leviathan Knight of Arvane and Bahamut Knight of Wyndor arrived, this land had no ruler. They fought together to unite hundreds of tribes. Their natures were different. Leviathan Knight preferred indirect methods, while Bahamut Knight couldn't stand such ways.

"One day, Bahamut Knight gathered the tribal leaders around this tower. He didn't speak a word. He drew his saber and, with a single swing, cleaved the tower to intimidate them. Since then, the tower once called Full Moon was known as Half Moon."

Fayra sighed. "You brought me all the way here just to tell me that?" She twisted the corner of her lip in an exaggerated expression of disappointment.

"Remember the first day we met at your welcome party as a hostage?" Fayra said. "You sat in the corner, your servant standing at attention. Your face was like you were attending your own funeral."

Fayra demonstrated by leaning forward, both elbows resting on her knees, fingers interlocked, and her lower lip protruding.

"I wasn't like that!"

"You were exactly like that. That was the first time I saw a member of the Ilvamar bloodline. Your ash-blue hair and ash-blue eyes."

Indeed, ash-blue hair and eyes were the distinctive features of House Ilvamar, heirs to the blood of the founding Leviathan Knight. These traits could not be forged, and were their identity as well as their pride.

"I was afraid you'd suddenly leap and tear my throat out."

"Now you're making things up."

"No. Do you know what else people say about Ilvamar? You have a cold stare."

"I've heard that, but it's nonsense. I fell off a horse once and got seriously injured. Mother visited me every day. Her gaze was the gentlest. Why bring up the welcoming party now? That wasn't exactly the best day of my life."

"Because, do you remember today is the three-year anniversary of our meeting?"

Taran opened his mouth but no words came out. Fayra dropped her shoulders and put on that exaggerated expression of disappointment again.

"Are your books so fascinating that you forget about us? Luckily, one of us remembers."

Fayra retrieved a small pouch from her waist and handed it to him. A round pearl-like object rolled into his palm as he emptied the pouch, translucent and unadorned green.

"What is this?" He held the pearl up to the sky. A hairline crack marred its surface. Inside, it seemed to be its own world, a world composed of a single element, Air.

"Grandfather gave it to me when I was little. A gift. He said it matched my eyes and brought luck. Now it's yours."

Taran laughed as he put the pearl into his pocket. Not a restrained laugh in the face of humiliation, nor a laugh to preserve the arrogance of his captor; it was just a laugh meant solely for her. "You don't believe in luck. You believe only you have the right to determine your own life."

She smiled, forming dimples on her cheeks. "That's right. Everyone has the right to determine their own life, but a little bit of luck doesn't hurt, hm?"

"And you gave this to me?"

"Grandfather said the pearl can only grant luck to one person once. It's useless to me now. I've already met you."

Fayra's words made his face burn up.

"Fay... I'm sorry I forgot about the day we met. But I brought you here for another reason."

He retrieved a small box from his pocket, keeping it concealed in his grasp. He took a deep breath, steadying himself to ensure his next words were unwavering.

"Fayra, would you do me the honor of becoming my betrothed?" He opened the ring box in front of her.

Fayra's lips parted, and her eyebrows lifted. However, she then turned her face away. She tucked her hair behind her ear. The state of her fingers and nails served as a subtle reminder that her life, too, had been devoid of comfort. Her gaze lowered, partially concealing her green eyes.

"Are you unwilling...?"

"I'm scared. The Crown Prince of Arvane, held hostage in Wyndor, proposing to a low-ranked Wyndor noblewoman. What awaits us in the future?"

"The relationship between Arvane and Wyndor has improved a lot since the last war. Theo even heard rumors that I'll be released soon."

"Theo? Your servant? He never lies to you."

"I'll take you to Arvane. Sooner or later, I'll ascend the throne, and then our future will be ours to shape."

Fayra's cheeks blushed. She extended her left hand. His heart overflowed with joy as he took her hand with one hand while the other prepared to slide the ring onto her ring finger.

"Uh... do you know where the tradition of putting the ring on the left ring finger comes from?"

Her lips tightened, as if she were about to pounce and strangle him. "Taran! Do what I think you were going to do, or you'll regret it for the rest of your life!"

He choked. Readjusting his position, he reached for her hand once again, but the screech of an eagle interrupted him. A long blue ribbon fluttered from the eagle's leg.

"Blue ribbon. Important message." Fayra folded her hands. "More important than me."

He cursed himself for not doing it right earlier. However, the moment had passed.

He raised his arm, welcoming the eagle. Prana Armor materialized on his lower arm just as the eagle's razor-sharp talons gripped it. He retrieved the message and released the eagle back into the sky.

The message in his hand was brief, not even filling a small piece of paper.

"You're wearing that expression again, like your old self," Fayra said. "I don't like it when you make that cold expression. What's wrong?"

"Arvane... No, His Majesty the King has violated the peace agreement and attacked Wyndor."

Her eyes seemed like a layer of ice with holes punched through them. The color drained from her face. "Does this mean war?"

"We have to return at once." He stood up and lifted Fayra into his arms. One arm encircled her back, and the other cradled the back of her knees.

He assimilated with the power of Bahamut within him. Six translucent green wings spread from his back, extending until they exceeded the rim of the tower. He leaped and flew away from the Half Moon tower.