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墨書 Inktalez
The nursery was filled with low, rumbling voices.
Honestly, adults could be so dramatic!
Luna, though still a tiny infant, possessed the mind of a seasoned Mage. She would have rolled her eyes—if only her baby muscles could cooperate.
The shouting, the accusations, the denials—all of it sounded like beautiful music to her little ears.
This splendid chaos, the unraveling of Leonard and Alia's operatic relationship, was precisely what she had been meticulously orchestrating.
But it wasn't enough.
Alia needed "evidence."
She required undeniable proof of Leonard's betrayal to slam into her face like a rusty drawbridge.
And Luna, thanks to her reincarnated soul, knew exactly where to find it.
"Qin Si!" she called out with laughter, her tiny hand reaching for the hovering maid.
"Qin Si! Go! Old... house!" Of course, her vocabulary was limited, but her intentions were crystal clear.
Qin Si, kind-hearted and now accustomed to the subtle commands from this unusually clever baby, raised an eyebrow. She quickly glanced at the chaos still erupting in the hall and sighed helplessly before picking up Luna.
It was time for an adventure.
The Old Fortress stood silent and dusty, a witness to forgotten glory, and Luna knew that secrets lay buried within its walls.
The air inside was thick with a scent of decay and a faint hint of... flowers?
Aha!
A clue!
Luna's tiny nose twitched as she led them down a winding corridor, her little hand pointing firmly ahead with a determination that would make any seasoned general proud.
They finally arrived at a forgotten little room.
Moonlight streamed through a cracked windowpane, illuminating a dusty writing desk.
Luna bounced excitedly in Qin Si's arms, her eyes fixed on the bottom drawer.
Qin Si shrugged as if to say "why not," then opened the drawer.
Inside, nestled between yellowed parchment and a dried ink bottle, was a small locked wooden box.
Now, under normal circumstances, unlocking a door would be a tricky task for a baby. However, Luna, influenced by her past life’s Magical Power, instinctively “knew” certain things. She was almost certain, as if she had a premonition, that the key was hidden beneath a loose floorboard near the fireplace.
After a series of vague gestures, some frantic pointing, and a creative rearrangement of furniture, the chest was finally opened. Inside, a bundle of Letters was tied together with a faded ribbon. Qin Si opened one letter, and with each word she read, her face grew paler. Leonard’s flowery language and his declarations of love that would last until the seas dried up clearly were not meant for Alia.
The letter contained some intimate details that made Qin Si’s stomach churn. The cheap perfume lingering in the air suddenly became nauseating, which made sense now. Despite her innocent appearance as a baby, Luna felt a surge of righteous anger within her. This two-timing liar who flirted around… well, she needed to calm her inner monologue.
However, she was determined to seek justice for Alia! They returned to the hall, where the residual magic from their earlier argument still hung heavily in the air. Alia sat slumped in a chair, her eyes red and swollen. Leonard paced back and forth like a lion trapped in a cage, muttering excuses that even he might not believe.
Qin Si, with her brave spirit, stepped forward and thrust the Letter in front of Leonard. “Explain this,” she demanded softly, her voice trembling with anger and disgust. Leonard’s face turned ghostly pale. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again; he stammered like a malfunctioning fountain, unable to articulate anything.
Alia snatched the Letter from him with trembling hands. As she read on, her expression changed. Initial shock morphed into profound sorrow, an overwhelming emptiness radiating from her like a Cold Wind. Years of love and trust crumbled around her like a sandcastle in a hurricane. The world she once knew no longer existed.
Outside, the sky remained clear and cloudless. The drought that had ravaged the land for weeks showed no signs of abating. The rain prayer ceremony, a desperate plea to the heavens, had only brought dry air and shattered hopes in return. A murmur of discontent rose from the gathered crowd.
Alia's heart shattered as she gazed at the endless blue sky. The cruel reality of a world that had taken both her love and her subjects' livelihoods was unbearable. "These... 'rules,'" she whispered, her voice hoarse from suppressed tears and an impending fury. "These 'magical' rules..." She clenched her fists, crumpling the letter in her hand.
"They are 'nothing.'" The flickering torches cast long, dancing shadows on the parched earth, painting the faces of the crowd in hues of orange, suffused with despair. The air was thick with the scent of sacrifice burning and the weight of unanswered prayers, heavy and stagnant.
Hours had passed since the rain prayer ceremony began, yet the sky remained a cold, indifferent realm filled with stars mocking their plight. A low mournful wail rippled through the crowd like the cry of a wounded beast, gradually transforming into a chorus of sobs from Luna and desperate calls from Leonard. A child sobbed, his small hands clutching his mother's tattered skirt tightly.
An old woman, her face etched with worry and helplessness, let out a piercing scream that echoed in the silent night sky. Alia watched it all, her heart encased in ice. Dust and despair filled her nostrils, intertwining with the bitter taste of betrayal still lingering at the back of her throat.
The letters, now soaked with tears and crumpled in her grasp, became a tangible manifestation of the disaster that had befallen her. The drought, the failure of the ceremony, Leonard's betrayal... all of it was almost too much to bear. An untamed anger stirred within her veins, ignited by grief and injustice.
"They say magic flows within us, connecting us to the core of this world," she hissed, her voice growing hoarse with emotion. "But what kind of core allows such suffering to exist? What kind of magic turns a deaf ear to its children's cries?" Her gaze was sharp and resolute as she scanned the faces of her desperate subjects before lifting her eyes to the unyielding sky.
"No," she whispered firmly, newfound determination resonating in her voice. "This... this cannot be the end." She tightened her fists around the letter, its crumpled form turning white under her grip in the fading light.
"Qin Si," she said, her tone low and dangerously calm, "gather the council. We have much... to discuss."
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