The Calm Before The Storm

A few months had passed, and yet another chaotic day dragged on. As usual, I stay into the historian's office, still reeling from the swordsmith's brutal assessment, which I had pretended to understand.

The advice to 'fake it till you make it' is not effective here, but I have no choice but to pretend and imagine myself as one.

My body felt like I had climbed a hundred miles of mountain, and my brain refused to functioning as well. I think I used up all my thinking process for the day.

There was something different in the air in the office today, like the moments before a storm or is it just me overthinking and analyzing things?

Ah, whatever, All I wanted today was a chair with no people around, a bit of peace and quiet space, and perhaps a snack to soothe the sting of the swordsmith's cutting critique which I really don't understand.


A few moments later, the door creaked open. To everyone's surprise, the prince walked in, looking scary and important.

He moved around like he owned the place—which he did. His presence felt like a dark, heavy storm cloud that you knew would ruin everyone's day. Just looking at him, I could see my day was already ruined.

The prince walked to Sir Leon's fancy chair, eating grapes like he was just visiting a fun place. Every move he made looked planned, showing how confident and cold he was.

The room felt nervous and jumpy. Like a terror professor suddenly appeared in a classroom.

The historians, who usually looked calm, tried hard not to look at the prince. It was like they thought his eyes might burn holes in them. His quiet secretary followed him, with two big, scary warriors who looked like they could break bones just by hugging you. They made the warm study room feel cold and hard to breathe in.

I tried to sink lower in my chair, wishing I could disappear. With the prince here, the day had officially turned into a real nightmare.


Just great! I sarcastically thought, sliding down in my now-uncomfortable seat. The only thing that could make this worse was the prince making my life harder—and knowing my luck, that was probably what he'd do next.


"Speak." A simple word yet the prince voice was sharp and clear, cutting through the soft whisper of the historians around the room.

He looked right at Leon, who stood there looking pale and hand barely containing not to shake while he present scroll in front of the prince who silently watched him.

📜
|<є3ᑶ 7#𝖸 ᑭ34☽3 1Ⲡ ❍Ⲡ3'5 #34ⲅ7 45 | 𝖫1ᐁ3 4Ⲡ☥ ᑭ4𝖸 7#3 ᑭⲅ1☽3 =❍ⲅ ᗵ#47 | ☥351ⲅ3. ᙢ4𝖸 =❍ⲅ61ᐁ3Ⲡ355 8357❍ᗵ ⵡᑭ❍Ⲡ ᗶ3, 45 | 𝖫34ᐁ3 83#1Ⲡ☥ 7#3 ᑭ47# =❍ⲅ 4 Ⲡ3ᗵ ᒛ❍ⵡⲅⲠ3𝖸. ᗵ17# Ⲡ❍ ᗶ4𝖫1☽3 1Ⲡ ᗶ𝖸 1Ⲡ73Ⲡ71❍Ⲡ5, 45 | 5#4ⲅ3☥ ᗵ17# 7#3 ʘ ᗶ16#7𝖸 ☥ⲅ46❍Ⲡ.

"This scroll contains more hidden symbols unlike the rest, Your Highness. I believe we'll need…more time to properly translate it," Leon explained, his voice steady but strained, like a bowstring on the verge of snapping.


The prince's eyes suddenly turned to angry slits. His calm look vanished quickly. "More time?" he whispered in a scary voice.

"You've had time. And now your telling me you need more? With extra head, no less?" His contempt was visible, each words were like sharp dagger aimed at both Leon and me.


"Your Highness, we—" Leon tried to apologize but couldn't finish. With the prince suddenly flicked, something small and sharp fly through the air. It happened so fast I didn't know what it was until Leon gasped, touching his cheek where a thin line of blood appeared.

The room seemed to stop, after seeing the grape stem fell in the ground. Everyone refused to move nor speak. My stomach churn.

'How could something so small, a stem at that, hurt someone?' I thought frantically, the absurdity of it overwhelming me, until I realized that with him, nothing was impossible.

'Oh God, I just want to go home…' I silently prayed.

I couldn't look away from the prince. He wasn't just powerful—he was something else entirely. Cold and terrifying.

The kind of person who could turn anything, even a simple fruit, into a weapon. A shiver ran down my spine. He wasn't just scary—he was the worst person I know. You could never predict what he'd do next, and I, of all people had to fool him in order to survive. Do I really stand a chance?


Leon, looking very scared, said shakily, "I... I understand, Your Highness. We will do our best to meet your expectation." The prince's eyes shone with cold anger.

"Don't let me down again, Leon," he said in a low, scary voice.

His words made the room feel heavy, like the walls were closing in. Without looking at us again, he turned and left, his warriors following him, leaving the room with the dead silence.

I breathed out slowly, not knowing I had been holding my breath. 'I really want to go home...' I silently thought as the door closed.

The room now felt more like a grave than a place to work. The historians stood still, all their faces wear the same emotion—fear.

Leon, usually so calm, seemed to fall apart. His legs gave way, and he fell to the floor, his hand shaking as he wiped the blood from his cheek.

I hurried to help him stand, my hands shaking too as I tried to steady him. I saw the grape stem on the floor—such a small thing, now a scary reminder of the prince's power.


"I'm sorry, everyone," Leon said very quietly.

"The prince has given us an impossible task. We need to meet his expectations somehow." I felt the weight of his words, feeling guilty as I looked at the faces around me.

I never wanted things to end up like this. All I wanted was to ensure and secure my safety. I know I had nothing to do with the situation, so why is my conscience eating me alive?

To be continued…