"Van… please…" Allen watched the young king intently, "I need you to remember. What did this man say to you before he stabbed you? Do you have any clue about who he might be?"
Van closed his eyes, leaning his head back tiredly against the headboard. The night had finally descended upon the palace and all was quite and peaceful. Van sat, or rather, laid atop his bed while Allen paced nervously back and forth. Millerna watched the scene, her eyes ever observant. Van swallowed slowly, his face pale and sunken in. "Allen," his voice was weak, "I can't… he didn't say anything. I didn't really get a good look at him. He just… I don't know… he just kind of pounced out of nowhere."
Allen sighed, frustrated. "Damn it." He said between clenched teeth, "Where the hell is this guy from? He can't just come out of nowhere and attack the king of Fanelia…"
"Allen," Millerna watched him sternly, "Calm down. I'm sure we'll figure it out eventually. Who knows where he came from? If you ask me, I think he was just crazy."
"No… that's not it!" Allen whirled to face her, "That's the thing. He was sent. I can tell he was. How could he have such an efficient weapon? He obviously couldn't afford to own a blade so deft. He was sent here for a purpose, and by someone. I want to know who that someone was!"
Van winced as Allen raised his voice to a shout. He heaved a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. With his good arm, he rubbed gently at his temples.
"Van, you need to get some more rest… You look terrible." Millerna finally concluded, already beginning to push Allen out of the room. "We'll talk about this after you've recovered."
Van offered her a grateful grin and nodded. "I'll try to remember what I can, Allen." He said in an apologetic tone to knight. Then, almost as an afterthought, he called towards them, "Is Hitomi still out there in the hallway?"
Millerna turned back to face him, "I think so… do you want me to send her in here?"
Van sat thoughtfully for a moment. Finally, after some hesitation, he nodded. "Yes. Thanks, Princess."
She nodded, "I'll see if I can find her."

What time was it? It had never occurred to her that it was getting pretty late in the night. She looked at her watch, squinting at it in the pale moonlight. She decided that it must have been around midnight. She sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees as she sat at the window. She was waiting for Allen and Millerna to come out of Van's room so that she could ask if there were any new developments. Hitomi leaned her head back against the window frame, watching the door down the hallway for any movement. She stretched her stiff leg muscles, letting out a tired yawn. It had been a long day, and she had not been sleeping well the past few nights. She sighed, rearranging the folds of her dress, finding nothing more interesting to do.
When she heard the door creak open, she looked up. Allen and Millerna were walking towards her. Both of them looked like they could use a good night's rest.
"Hitomi," Millerna approached her, "Van wants to see you."
Hitomi nodded, quickly rising from the windowsill. She began to walk towards the door.
"Try not to make it too long," Millerna warned, "He needs to rest."
Hitomi nodded, "I'll keep that in mind, Princess."
With that, she opened the door and stepped inside. The lights were dim and someone had opened the far window to let in a cool night breeze. Van was lying atop his bed; his back was leaned halfway up against the headboard. His eyes were closed. Hitomi bit her lip, noticing how pale his skin still was. There were dark circles forming under his eyes, and his cheeks had sunk in from lack of nourishment while he had been unconscious. She walked towards the bed, unsure if he was asleep. When he heard her footsteps, his eyelids fluttered open.
She walked slowly towards him, letting her fingertips brush over his sheets. "How are you feeling, Van?" She asked.
He forced a wane smile, "A little better." He replied. His voice betrayed his fatigue. It was soft and lacked strength.
She sat down on the bed, her eyes locking with his. For a moment, there was an awkward silence as the two of them just stared at each other. Hitomi broke the gaze by averting her eyes to the floor. She was unsure of what to do, how she was supposed to act.
"I… um… I hope you've found that your chambers and room suit you." He finally broke the silence. His voice was also unsure, and he stuttered as he tried to make idle conversation.
She nodded, "They're beautiful, Van." She smiled, "You've done a lot of work in the past three years to make Fanelia a dreamland again."
He smiled ruefully, "I've tried. We're still working on it… but I think we've made progress."
"You definitely have." Hitomi nodded in agreement, looking at him.
The silence again took over the room. Hitomi contented herself with just watching Van and waiting for him to speak. Her eyes wandered over his face, down his neck and to his broad shoulders. He had definitely grown in the past few years, and his body had become strong and healthy. Without even realizing it, she put her hand gently on his shoulder. Slowly, she ran her fingers down the path of the bandages and across his chest. As if relaxed by her touch, he let out a sigh and closed his eyes peacefully.
She watched him, marveling at how innocent and serene he looked. He sensed her gaze and grasped her hand in his before he opened his eyes again.
"It's pretty late, you should probably rest." She commented, beginning to rise.
He watched her get up, but didn't let go of her hand.
"Van…" She said, grinning ruefully, "May I have my hand back?"
He didn't let go but he smiled, "Will I see you tomorrow?"
Hitomi hesitated before she nodded, "I'll come to visit you."
Almost without thinking, he clasped her hand close to his chest. Gently, he caressed her fingers with a soft kiss. Then, he let go of her hand, leaning back into the depths of his pillows.
She smiled, backing away towards the door. As she blew out the candle near the doorway, she turned back to look at him. "Good night, Van." She whispered before she slipped out into the hallway.
He waited until he heard her footsteps retreat down the corridor before he let out a deep sigh, "Good night, love."

An eerie silence had settled into the palace. Everyone was asleep, and even the unfortunate guards who tended the night shift were beginning to doze. The fireplace offered some warmth and little light, but Eric didn't really care. His eyes had become well adjusted to the dimness of the library. He shed his cloak silently on the soft armchair by the fire before he paced towards the bookshelves. The shelves were all covered with dust and were in disrepair. After the war, no one ever cared to read much anymore. As far as he knew, he was the only one who ever came to the library room. Erina never cared much for books, so she had not bothered to renovate the library when they had moved into the palace. However, Eric loved being in here. All around him, he was surrounded by the tomes of history, art, magic, and literature. Inside of each book was locked a secret, a secret that was just waiting for him to come and discover it.
He walked silently along the shelves, running his fingers over the bindings of the volumes. His golden eyes flickered lazily from cover to cover, not really looking for anything in particular. He stopped as his attention fell upon a large, dusty book. It was bound in black with gold lettering. He squinted, pulling the volume out from the depths of the shelf. Blowing the dust off, he began to walk back towards the fireplace, the book safely tucked in the curve of his arm.
After making himself comfortable on the armchair, he leaned back and opened up the first page of the book: The Magic of Science.
Immediately, from the weirdly shaped characters, he realized that this was not a book from Zaibach. His fingers traced over the unfamiliar curves and lines of the words, his mind searching for a connection. Why did these words look so familiar to him? He let himself sink into a deep state of contemplation mixed with fatigue. Slowly, he flipped the pages, his eyes skimming over the parchments filled with knowledge that he could not understand. Unable to comprehend anything, he flipped to the back cover. At the very bottom of the page, he found carved into the binding a few small symbols that he, surprisingly enough, could understand. He squinted, recognizing the mark of the former emperor of Zaibach.
"Dornkirk…" He raised an eyebrow, wondering where this book had come from. It took a few minutes before realization dawned upon him, "The Phantom Moon?"

"If you continue to refuse to speak, we might have to resort to torture to get the truth out of you." The man standing in front of him was frightening. He was tall and noble looking. He wore a blue tunic with a white shirt. His long, shimmering blond hair fell unnoticed around his shoulders. The man was looking at him with a stern gaze and knit eyebrows.
He opened his mouth to speak, but found no words there. He tried again, but found that his voice was gone.
"Well?" The man was now looking at him with an even more frightening gaze, "Don't make me torture the words out of you." The man's voice was menacing, "I assure you, I've done it before."
He shook his head, his mind searching frantically for something to say. "I…" His voice sounded strange to even himself, "I don't know…"
"You were sent here, weren't you?" The man narrowed his eyes, "You were sent here to assassinate the king of Fanelia. Who were you sent by?"
His head was reeling and all his vision began to be clouded over with spots. Kill the king… kill the king of Fanelia. The voice had come back, and he closed his eyes, letting out a high-pitched howling scream. He grabbed at his head, pounding it with his fists, trying to make the voice stop. "No…!" The only coherent thing that he could make come out of his mouth slipped from his lips.
"Tell me!" The man had his fists clenched now, and he was looking impatient, "Who sent you here? If you cooperate, there might actually be chance you'll live."
His mouth began to flap as he tried to explain. It wasn't his fault, couldn't they see it wasn't his fault? He hadn't done anything. He was only a poor farmer of Zaibach; he had nothing left after the war. All he wanted was his little plot of land and his seeds to farm so that he could feed his family. He didn't mean to come here; he didn't even know what he was doing here. Couldn't this man see that? He was lost… he was lost and he didn't even know what it meant to be found. All these things he tried to explain, but all that came out of his mouth of a line of gibberish punctuated by screams.
The man backed away, his face filled with disgust. He turned around to motion towards the guard, "I've had enough of this."
The guard came over and unlocked the cell door, letting the man out. "Shall I keep him here, Allen?"
The man turned and nodded, "Make sure that he stays here. I'll be back in the morning to see if he's made any progress."
With that both the man and the guard left, leaving him curled up on the floor.
His chest shuddered up and down and he found his whole body trembling. His ears flickered back and forth, resounding with the sound of silence. He felt like there was a heavy weight being pressed upon him, and he couldn't tell if it was he, or if the cell was getting colder. He started to whimper, his voice getting caught in his throat. Suddenly, he sensed that he wasn't alone in the cell. He jumped up, falling into a crouching stance. His wild eyes darted around the cell, and his senses were heightened.
"You're an awful mess, Rega." The voice seemed to come out of nowhere.
He whirled around, looking for the source of the sound.
"So you finally went over the edge, huh?" A shadowy figure seemed to melt out from the wall. It was a young man, dressed in the uniform of a Zaibach soldier. He had piercing green eyes. "Huh, shoulda known you'd get caught. The Princess sent me here to take care of you."
"Why… why am I here?" His voice frightened, like that of a child's.
"Why are you here?" The soldier rolled his eyes, "Gods, Rega. You've really lost haven't you? I heard you did quite a little job on that boy-king."
A little job? What was this man talking about? "I… I didn't do anything…"
The man's laugh was harsh, "You know, I almost pity you, Rega. Don't worry, though. It'll all be over soon."
"I… I want to get back to my farm… my family… where are they? Why am I here?" His eyes widened as he saw the soldier draw a dagger from his sleeve.
"Come on, Rega. Don't worry, you'll be seeing them real soon." The soldier walked towards him, the dagger extended.
"You promise?"
"I promise."
He barely even felt the dagger penetrate his skin. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired and light-headed. His body slumped over and he slipped to the ground. His last thought was about how nice it would be to go into an eternal sleep.