Evening Star

Ugh…

Vesper groaned as he opened his eyes. His back ached with a dull pain. The first thing he saw was an endless expanse of white.

"Where… am I?" he muttered. "Am I dead?"

His voice was hoarse and uncertain.

The last thing I remember… I lost consciousness during the trial. So that means that I failed? No way.

He looked around, trying to grasp his surroundings.

The ground was blanketed in ethereal, violet roses. Their delicate petals shimmered faintly, moving as if they were breathing despite the absence of any breeze.

Everything else was pure white. Empty.

"Wait…" A chill raced down his spine. Recognition bloomed in his chest. "This place…"

It had changed. The mirror that haunted him before was gone. The endless whiteness remained, but the ground had transformed, now covered in celestia roses.

He was back. Back in that dream.

"Why this damned place again…" His heart pounded with growing urgency.

He didn't want to be here. Not after what had happened last time.

Just as he tried to rise, a soft sound of footsteps echoed behind him.

He froze. His breath caught in his throat.

That sound. Slow and deliberate, struck something deep in his soul. A fear that he had never experienced before.

He wanted to turn, to see who it was, but his body refused to move. He was paralyzed.

The footsteps drew closer.

Each step thundered louder in his mind.

No… No, not again…

His limbs trembled. Every cell in his body screamed to run, to scream, to do anything, but he couldn't. It was as if the presence behind him was too vast, too ancient, too terrifying to confront.

There were no monstrous faces. No grotesque shapes. Just… fear. Pure, primal fear. As if this being's mere existence commanded all to kneel before it.

Then, as suddenly as it came… the fear vanished.

Vesper collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. His lungs burned. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. What the fuck was that?

He turned, slowly, almost unwillingly, and looked up.

There, standing before him, was a man.

His long silver hair flowed despite the still air. His deep , emotionless violet eyes glowed like stars within amethyst.

Vesper's breath hitched as their gazes met. He couldn't move. Couldn't think.

And yet… something about him felt familiar.

The man looked down at Vesper as though he were a mere insect. Then, without a word, he turned and began to walk forward. His steps were calm and unhurried. As if he expected Vesper to follow.

Vesper swallowed hard, heart still racing.

Who is he? And why… Why does he look so much like me?

With shaking legs, he rose and followed. I guess I must follow him even though I don't want to at all.

They walked in silence.

The roses shifted ever so slightly, parting before the silver-haired man and closing again after him, as if the very world obeyed his presence.

Vesper didn't know how long they walked. Time didn't seem to pass here.

Finally, the man stopped.

He turned and snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath their feet. The violet petals rustled, lifting into the air. One by one, they swirled together, until they took shape.

Before Vesper's eyes, the petals wove themselves into a marble table veined with silver, flanked by two ornate chairs. Atop the table, an ancient chessboard emerged.

Without saying anything, the man pulled one chair and sat elegantly.

Even though he didn't say anything, Vesper knew that he must sit as well.

After sitting, he stared at the chessboard. He couldn't look at his eyes at all.

After some moments, the man moved the white pawn to the e4 square without saying anything.

Vesper swallowed. No way this man brought me here just to play chess with me.

In response, he moved his pawn to the c5 square. He wanted to ask who he was, but he played along. He didn't want to do something that might annoy him.

Vesper knew how to play chess. From childhood, every noble child learns that. It's a necessity in noble houses. He even is confident in his victory against almost everyone.

Even though he was three years younger than Isolde, he always won against her. Even between other noble children, he had never lost a game.

Maybe the only one who had defeated him was Quinn who was the one who taught him that. But now, he could win against even him too.

So he had no worries about this mysterious man.

They played for ten minutes, before—

"Fuck…!" Vesper shouted in frustration. "What the hell?"

He stared at the man with sheer shock.

He couldn't believe that he had lost in just twenty moves. He played as if he knew what I was going to play. He swallowed. This man…just who is he? And why does he look so much like me? Is he an Abyssal who had taken the form of me?

Just as Vesper opened his mouth to speak, the man let out a quiet sigh in disappointment and snapped his fingers. He muttered something under his breath, but the words were too faint for Vesper to hear.

The surroundings shifted almost instantly. The roses vanished. The air thickened. Space seemed to bend in on itself, and everything faded into black.

***

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the clear, blue sky.

He groaned and sat up slowly, wincing at the dull ache in his body. "What happened… again?"

Looking around, he realized he was outside Frostgrave Hollow.

A sinking feeling settled in his chest.

"So I failed…"

Before he could gather his thoughts, a sharp pain surged through him. It wasn't physical. It came from somewhere deeper.

His Essence trembled, then buckled under an invisible force. It felt like something inside him was tearing apart and expanding.

Then came the cold.

A wave of Primal Energy poured into him. He doubled over, struggling to breathe. His hands clutched his head as the pain grew sharper, spreading through every part of him.

It didn't last long, but in those few moments, it felt endless.

Then, the pain began to fade slowly.

His body had changed, if only slightly. His senses were clearer. His hair shimmered faintly, more than before. Even the air around him felt sharper.

Vesper dropped to his knees, breathing heavily.

Then everything went quiet—and he lost consciousness.

***

In a room framed by tall, golden walls adorned with intricate carvings and sunlit patterns, a young girl sat quietly beside an open window. A soft breeze stirred the sheer curtains, brushing against her long, silky black hair.

Her otherworldly blue eyes gazed into the distance, unfocused.

She wore a simple white nightgown. In her hand was a letter, torn at the edge from how tightly she gripped it.

Then, she crumpled it in her hand in anger.

"He has never once looked at me as a daughter," she whispered. Her nails dug into her palm. "He only sees me as tool to use. I will not be surprised even if he forces me to marry a prince from the other empires or someone like that."

She stood, the letter falling to the marble floor.

"Last year, he sent me to the academy, just to make connections. To flatter noble sons and daughters like I was nothing more than a puppet in a pretty dress."

She turned toward the window, her expression filled with betrayal and anger.

"And now this," she said. "Now he wants me to find someone. Not just anyone...an Evening Star."

Her lips curled bitterly.

"Those have been gone for a thousand years. They are all dead. And he wants me to find one? For what, extracting their powers?"

She shook her head. "Madness."

She stared at her reflection in the tall glass doors leading to the balcony.

Her fists unclenched slowly.

"And if one of them still lives… why would he send me?" she whispered.

Not out of trust. Not out of belief in her. He only sent her when the task was suited for her.

She looked out. Far beyond the gardens, the sun was beginning to set, bathing the estate in soft amber light.

Maybe it's time I stopped waiting for him to see me. Getting his recognition is not as magnificent as before to me.

He is someone completely different.

But…who will see me even if my father doesn't.

Will anyone see what I'm going through? Will anyone care what I'm enduring every day?

A quiet knock at the door broke her thoughts.

She didn't answer.

The soft knock came again.

"Lady Amorette? May I come in?"

Amorette didn't move. She recognized the voice. She was Maera, her personal maid since childhood. She was loyal, kind, and the only person in the entire estate that looked at her like she mattered.

"It's open," Amorette said at last, her voice low.

Maera entered. She approached carefully, as if afraid her presence might disturb something.

"I brought you tea," she offered gently, setting the silver tray down on a small table near the window. "Chamomile. It's good for the nerves."

"I'm not nervous," Amorette replied.

Maera smiled faintly. "Of course not. Still… it helps."

They stood in silence for a few moments.

Then Amorette asked, "Have you ever heard of the Evening Stars?"

Maera blinked. "Only stories. My grandmother used to say they were from the Ancient Era. They were evil and strong people who ruled over Abyssals. But those are just tales, my lady. No one's seen an Evening Star in centuries."

Amorette nodded slowly, her gaze distant. So these people really don't know the truth.