Vol 1 Chapter 18: Intentions That Grow in Silence

I Can No Longer Stay Neutral…

POV: Detective Clara

Tonight is far too quiet. There are no crickets, only the sound of the valley wind gently brushing against the leaves.

Inside a small inn room in Rose Valley, I sit on the bed, hugging my knees. A dim oil lamp glows on the table. My notebook lies open, but my pen hasn’t been touched.

I rise from the bed, take light steps, and sit on my wooden chair. My hand reaches for the pen—yet it won’t stop trembling. Not out of fear. But because I am confused, uncertain… and moved.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. That gaze—sharp, trained, as always. But behind all of it lies a confusion slowly growing into something deeper inside me.

“I am a detective,” I whisper softly. “I am an enforcer of the law. I am neutral. I do not take sides.”

That is my principle. That is what allowed both the commoners and the nobles to trust me. The law above all.

But now? Now I’ve been caught off guard by my own heart.

I am starting to take sides. Not because Marry El Rose is beautiful.

Not because her daughter, Caelan El Rose, is sweet—and holding her feels comforting the way I hold my little sister.

But because…

Because behind all the bloodstained tragedy from ten years ago—before the world chose to forget—I feel that Marry is more deserving of the title “guardian of the law” than anyone else in the kingdom.

And that little girl, Caelan—with her tiny hands and her innocent, cheerful laughter—has ignited something within me. A feeling long lost: my desire to protect someone precious.

Before this, I always believed in protecting the law, the system, and the royal institutions. But now… I want to protect a person.

I want to protect her small laughter. I want to protect the warmth that remains between a mother and her child in a world struck with amnesia.

Not out of duty to the law. But out of love, respect, and the conviction that this world is too dark to let its last remaining light be extinguished again.

—

Memories of the Past…

I stared at the ceiling of my room. My childhood resurfaced in my mind.

I was raised in a family that was neither rich nor poor. We had had enough. My father was a reasonably successful merchant in a small town at the edge of the kingdom. My mother was a housewife, like most women in the city.

When I was a child, I was naïve and knew nothing of the world. Everyone around me treated me kindly.

Every weekend night, my parents took me to dinner at a restaurant, accompanied by a nobleman in a black suit and his son. We would dine together. I was quite close to that noble’s son. I thought my family, my childhood friend, and everyone around me were genuinely good-hearted.

But I was too naïve. The world was not as I believed.

One night, under the full moon, I woke up from my sleep. I gasped for breath, struggling. I tried to open my eyelids, but a sharp pain stabbed through my eyes.

I tried again, but the agony felt as if my eyes were burning. I cried and screamed for help.

“Father… Mother… help me—hic… hics…”

My parents rushed into my room. They panicked when they saw blood streaming from my eyes.

“Clara—” My mother stood frozen, trembling.

“I’ll call the doctor! Hold on, Clara.” My father ran out of the room to fetch the doctor.

Moments later, the doctor arrived to examine me.

He checked my eyes, my temperature, breathing, and pulse—but found nothing wrong.

The doctor sighed, then pulled out a white crystal orb, about the size of an egg.

“Touch this crystal, child,” he said softly.

I nodded and touched it. Then—

“Swiisshh!”

“What is this?” my father shouted.

My parents and the doctor instinctively shielded their eyes with their arms.

The crystal shone brightly—blindingly bright. But then—

"Crack..."

A fissure spread across the crystal, widening with the radiance.

The doctor pulled my hand away. As soon as my palm left the crystal, the light faded.

My parents stood frozen. My father was the first to break the silence.

“What happened to my daughter, doctor?”

The doctor’s eyes widened as he slowly turned to look at my father.

“This is both good news and bad news,” he said.

“What do you mean? Please explain!” my mother cried.

The doctor exhaled heavily.

“The good news is… your daughter has awakened.”

He looked straight into my bleeding eyes.

“She has manifested a unique ability—one extremely rare.”

My parents exchanged glances, swallowing hard before my father spoke.

“And the bad news?”

“Your daughter… her unique ability is powerful enough to destroy her from the inside. It is a cursed skill,” the doctor said.

My parents went pale. My mother covered her mouth with her trembling hand.

“Clara…” she whispered as tears streamed down her face.

My father grabbed the doctor by the collar.

“A cursed ability?!” he growled. “What are you saying?!”

He shook the doctor repeatedly until my mother intervened.

“Calm yourself, dear. Let the doctor finish,” she pleaded.

“Hah… hah… I’m sorry. Please explain, Doctor,” my father said, struggling to contain his anger.

The doctor huffed and straightened his collar.

“Your daughter has awakened a rare, eye-related ability. But its power is immense and destructive. If she uses it incorrectly, it could cost her life.”

“Then… what should we do?” my mother asked anxiously.

“First, she must learn to control it. Second, she must learn to use it wisely.”

The doctor paused before continuing:

“Even cursed-skill users are highly valued in this kingdom. You should know—only one in ten thousand ever awakens a unique skill.”

“Thank goodness…” my father sighed with relief. “Then, how can Clara use her skill?”

“That is what I will teach her.”

The doctor turned to me.

“Child… can you hear me?”

I nodded weakly.

“Good. Now listen carefully. Channel mana into your eyes.”

“Channel mana?” I asked, confused.

The doctor glanced at my parents. They looked equally confused.

“We’re not a mage family, doctor,” my father said.

“I see… that makes this harder. I’ll teach you the basics.”

“Child… close your eyes and imagine the flow of mana—white energy—running through the veins of your body. Can you visualise it?”

I nodded.

“Good. Now channel that mana into your eyes. Imagine it flowing like water descending into a valley.”

I closed my eyes. Pain engulfed them. Blood seeped from the corners.

“Ughh—” I grimaced.

“Doctor—!” my mother panicked.

But the doctor cut her off.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. That means the unique skill has been activated. Now… open your eyes slowly. What do you see?”

I opened my eyelids. My parents and the doctor appeared blurry. Then—

“How is it?” the doctor asked.

Suddenly, a wave of red surged into my mind. I heard the doctor’s inner voice.

“Teaching this girl magic basics is such a hassle. I’ll make sure to charge them a huge fee. I’ll bleed that stingy merchant dry. Hehe…”

Pain stabbed my eyes, but I forced them to stay open—unblinking.

“So? Did it work?” my father asked.

I turned my head toward him. Another red wave struck my mind.

“I hope Clara is fine. I’ve long planned to marry her off to that noble’s son. If she ends up disabled, my business could collapse,” my father thought.

I flinched. The pain in my eyes was nothing compared to the betrayal in my heart.

“Doctor, Clara looks like she’s hurting… is she alright?” my mother asked.

I saw her lips tremble, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Yet I heard her thoughts clearly.

“If Clara becomes disabled… will my husband divorce me?”

I jolted. My whole body trembled.

“Clara—”

“Wake up, sweetheart—”

Their voices echoed in my ears. But beneath them, I heard every hidden thought.

My vision blurred. And then, I lost consciousness—

…

A few weeks later… I finally mastered my unique ability. A gift that cursed me to read others’ intentions, thoughts, and emotions—at a steep price.

After training, I managed to control its lighter version: the ability to see the colours of other people’s souls, [Eyes of judgment].

But even the lighter form demanded a toll. Seeing a person’s soul rarely helped me. Instead, it cursed me with the gradual erosion of my trust in humanity.

From that moment on, the world was never the same. Every time I looked at people, I saw the colours of their souls. Most were murky, dirty, black—signs of corruption within.

From then on, I made a vow to myself: I would never use my unique skill unless absolutely necessary. I didn’t want to lose the last fragments of my faith in humanity.

As I grew older, I refused to inherit my father’s business. I chose to become a detective—the only path I knew that could fix even a small piece of this rotting world.

But that was long ago. And I was lucky—lucky to meet Marry in two different eras:
in the past, and now in the present.

She is the only human who ever made me believe that purity and goodness can still shine even when her body is drenched in blood, even after she has slain so many tyrants.

Because I know—she never enjoyed killing. She did it as a scream against systemic injustice, against the law that died ten years ago, before the world chose to forget its sins.

And now, when I see Marry and Caelan sitting together under a shady tree, talking about flowers and the weather, I realise that the best way to fix the world is to protect the smallest, purest part of it— a little girl with innocent eyes, Caelan El Rose.

…

Tomorrow, I will return to the capital. I will submit an “incomplete” report.

I know that as a detective, I have twisted part of the truth. But what use is honesty if it harms those who deserve peace the most?

I adjusted my chair and sat in the most comfortable position. I picked up my pen and held it firmly.

My fingers had stopped trembling. I began writing slowly on the white paper.

“There are no signs of the fugitives. Their trail disappeared deep within the forest. It is strongly suspected they were killed by wild beasts."

"No traces remain. Alternatively, they may have died due to internal conflict among criminals. There is no evidence of any involvement from the valley’s residents.”

I paused. Then, I added a note beneath the report.

“This area is safe. Very safe. Safer than the capital. And I advise you not to send anyone here.”

I placed the pen on the report and returned to my bed. Before sleeping, I reopened my notebook. The last page was still blank.

I wrote something I never imagined I would write. Personal mission: Protect Marry and Caelan from the shadows of the past. I closed the book.

Tonight, I have quietly changed. I am no longer merely a royal detective.

I have become an unsung guardian—a witness to truths erased from history. I am a detective of conscience.

—

An Unspoken New Beginning…

The next morning, I rode through the village market. The knights lined up neatly on their horses behind me. We were ready to depart for the capital.

Then I saw a woman in a rose-colored dress approaching, carrying a small lunchbox. Her silver hair fluttered in the soft morning breeze.

I stopped my horse. Marry halted in front of me.

“You’re leaving today?” Marry asked gently.

I gave her a faint smile and nodded.

“I’m returning to the capital. Not to leave—just to finish some business.”

Marry smiled softly, as if she already knew.

“Caelan will be waiting for you.”

“Caelan—” My eyes shimmered at the mention of the little girl. “Where is she?”

Marry pointed to a fruit stall near the gate. There, Caelan sat sweetly, nibbling a red apple like a squirrel. Her tiny legs swung back and forth in the air.

“She’s as sweet as ever,” I said, bowing my head. “I will return. Not as a detective, but as someone who wants to see the two of you happy.”

Marry smiled gently. Her blue eyes reflected my silhouette.

And for the first time in ten years since our separation, she called me by a familiar name.

“Thank you, Clara.”

She called me “Clara,” not “Miss Clara.” A familiar address that reminded me of our meeting ten years ago.

I knew then that perhaps our story would be woven again, even after the world chose to forget its sins.

Author's Note: This chapter has been rewritten.