Diverging Roads

The office was quiet except for the steady scratching of a quill. Elias Langley sat hunched over his desk, with papers and ledgers scattered in disarray before him. His usually composed expression showed signs of exhaustion, with dark shadows lingering under his eyes. He flipped through the trade records Selene had left behind; they were detailed, precise, and thorough beyond what most officials could manage. Every route, every merchant, every minor tax adjustment was accounted for.

"She carried all this alone," Elias muttered, a mix of admiration and frustration in his tone.

The room felt heavier than usual. His advisors whispered behind him, some nobles questioned his decisions, and yet, despite it all, Langley was better off than he had been months ago. But the truth was hard: Langley's prosperity rested almost entirely on Selene's shoulders, and now she was gone.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. I underestimated you, Selene. More than anyone, you knew what this place needed… His thoughts drifted unbidden to the memory of her standing firm against him on the day she arrived, refusing to compromise. She had been reckless, stubborn, and often infuriating, but those traits rebuilt Langley.

Elias rubbed his temples, trying to ease the strange ache in his chest. It wasn't just professional respect—he understood that much, though he refused to say it out loud. Rising from his chair, he moved to the window overlooking the bustling streets of Langley. Merchants haggled, children laughed, and scholars hurried to the newly reopened academy. It should have been a satisfying sight, yet it only reminded him of her absence.

"Wherever you are… don't die on me," he murmured, resting his hand on the window frame as if the glass could somehow close the distance between them.

The woods of Velmir were wrapped in a low mist that curled around twisted roots and ancient trunks. Selene moved through them with deliberate steps, her actions calm and focused. Her rapier gleamed faintly in the dim light, and her crimson eyes scanned the underbrush with a predator's accuracy.

She had not spoken for hours. Her aura flickered subtly around her, tightly contained, her breathing steady and cold. The body moved with mechanical grace, a sharp contrast to Selene's usual controlled but human movements.

Trailing behind her, trying to keep up, was a young boy. His dark hair clung to his forehead with sweat, and his clothes were worn but cared for. Despite his heavy breaths, his expression showed unshakeable determination.

"Hey, are you sure we're going the right way?" the boy asked, gasping for air. His tone was hopeful, almost too casual for the dangerous environment.

Selene didn't turn. When she finally spoke, her voice was flat. "You're the guide. You should know."

The boy grinned sheepishly despite her cold response. "Right, right… but you know, most people at least talk while they walk. It makes the silence less creepy, don't you think?"

Selene didn't reply, stepping over a twisted root. The boy sighed dramatically and jogged to keep pace with her. "So… you really were some kind of noble, huh? Langley, right? That place where they say scholars are coming back and trade's booming again? That's your work, isn't it?"

For a brief moment, her stride faltered. The boy noticed immediately, and his eyes lit up. "It is you, isn't it?" They say the overseer there was like… unstoppable. Tough but… fair. Kinda like a hero."

The air grew still. Selene's fingers twitched on the hilt of her rapier, as if something inside her stirred. Her crimson eyes softened for just an instant.

"She…" The word slipped out quietly before her posture stiffened again. "…is gone."

The boy blinked, confused, but before he could say anything more, a distant rustle echoed from the mist. Selene turned sharply, her rapier flashing as she darted ahead. A mutated wolf-like creature lunged from the shadows, its body twisted unnaturally by the dense aura of the Outer Region.

The boy barely had time to yelp before Selene struck. Her blade moved with a single, precise thrust, piercing the creature's heart before it could snarl. It collapsed silently, steam rising from its wounds.

"Stay close. Don't fall behind," she ordered, her voice as cold as the mist.

The boy swallowed hard but nodded, jogging after her. Still, as he followed, he glanced at her with a strange expression—like he had caught a glimpse of something fragile beneath her ruthless precision.

That night, they camped under the shelter of a massive fallen tree. The boy fell asleep quickly, exhaustion taking over, but Selene sat upright, staring at the faintly glowing mist beyond their campsite. Her head tilted slightly as if she were listening to something distant, her eyes unfocused.

Sleep came, but it was not restful.

In her dreams, red butterflies scattered through a dark void. Chains clinked in the distance, their metallic echoes ringing unnaturally. There, sitting with her legs bound by thick iron restraints, was her.

The chained version of Selene looked exactly the same—same silver-white hair, same crimson eyes—but those eyes held sorrow, a deep regret that felt heavier than any words.

Selene stepped forward, her boots echoing against the unseen floor. "Why… are you still chained if you already have control?" she asked, her voice softer than usual.

The chained Selene didn't respond. Instead, her gaze fell, and a single red butterfly landed delicately on one of the chains, its wings pulsing like a heartbeat.

Selene frowned, stepping closer. "What are you hiding from me? These hallucinations, this… suppression. You know something."

The chained Selene finally lifted her head, her expression soft yet unbearably pained. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper.

"You shouldn't have touched that artifact. It's… holding everything back. But… if it breaks… your body won't…"

The words faded as the chains clinked tighter, pulling her back into the shadows.

Selene reached out, but the dreamscape dissolved into darkness, pulling her consciousness back to the waking world.

She woke abruptly, her breathing uneven, a faint trail of blood dripping from her nose. The boy stirred nearby, mumbling something incoherent in his sleep, but Selene wiped the blood away with the back of her hand. Her crimson eyes stared into the darkness beyond the camp, her grip tightening on her rapier.

The butterflies lingered in her mind.