Gray-haired princess

The forest of Ventos arched over the night like a vault. Tangled canopies let through thin threads of moonlight that trembled on the damp leaf litter. The air smelled of resin, fresh earth, and newly wounded bark. In that half-light, a pair of red eyes moved forward with purpose.

Blair Julis D’Blank walked unhurriedly, urgency thrumming in her pulse. Her long, straight white hair brushed her shoulders like a trail of silver. The flower-shaped jewel in her hair gave off a soft, pulsing glow, as if it were listening to something beyond common senses. The hem of her combat dress was stained with mud; even so, she paused now and then to shake it off with elegance, a gesture not of vanity but of habit—learned in stone corridors and waxed floors.

—A princess shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t. Not alone, not at night, not with mud on her boots…

She forced herself to draw a long breath, filling her lungs with calm.

—…but someone has to do it. If the Orb answers, if I can truly find it, maybe something will change. Maybe the entire course. Am I doing the right thing? Or am I just fooling myself, thinking I can twist fate with my hands?

A dry crack answered from the dark. Blair stopped. It wasn’t a stray branch or a deer in flight: there was weight and direction in those sounds.

Blair narrowed her eyes. The moon sketched a vertical shadow between two trunks. Tall. Still.

A breath of wind grazed her nape; the temperature dropped like a bucket of water. She reached for the dagger at her waist with trained movements, while her other hand lifted the edge of her cloak to free her legs.

Again… it’s been following me for a while. No one should be able to track me. No one. If they can… then they’re after the same thing.

The shadow shifted a handspan, and Blair stepped twice to the side, weight on the balls of her feet, ready to pivot. She breathed through her nose, measured distance, counted heartbeats. The flower in her diadem throbbed more strongly for an instant, like a tightened lute string, then returned to its faint rhythm.

—Come out —she whispered, low and steady—. Or I’ll make you.

Nothing. Only the brush of leaves. A distant hoot. A silence that seemed to have teeth.

Blair pressed her lips together. Doubt hurts more than the wound. She moved forward a few steps, skirting trunks, ears open to every small sound. The feeling of being watched gnawed at her shoulders. A shadow flitted past her peripheral vision—too fast to catch head-on. She turned with the dagger at guard.

Nothing.

—…Damn it —she exhaled, slowly, so as not to feed the forest her anxiety.

The crickets resumed their song as if nothing had happened. Far off, a warm light flickered—an orange twinkle that was neither moon nor firefly. Blair pushed a branch aside with her forearm and stepped into a clearing.

A small campfire burned steadily, as if the world were in perfect order. To one side, seated on a rock, a tall boy with unruly black hair and plain clothes chewed patiently on a piece of bread that, at first glance, looked as hard as the log under his elbow.

Blair froze, adrenaline still climbing. Her fingers didn’t quite let go of the dagger’s hilt.

—You…? —she said, halfway between astonishment and reproach.

The boy lifted his gaze slowly, as if it took more effort to look away from the bread than from the fire. He blinked once.
—Good evening —he answered, toneless.

Blair frowned.
—Good… evening? That’s it?

He shrugged, chewing.
—It is evening. And it’s not going badly for me. Would you prefer I say “dreadful evening”?

His tone was flat and faintly cynical—and, against all logic, effective. Tension began to ease from Blair’s chest by sheer dissonance: the scene didn’t match the danger lodged in the back of her neck.

He poked a twig into the fire, and without looking at her, pointed with his chin to the rock across from him.
—Sit. It’s uncomfortable watching you circle like… —he searched for it with a gesture— an indecisive ghost.

Blair hesitated. The flower-jewel beat slowly; for now, no shadow gnawed at the edge of the clearing. She sheathed the dagger with a soft click and sat on the opposite rock.

The boy raised the bread in a mock toast.
—Hard bread. Dinner fit for kings.

Blair arched a brow.
—That looks like a brick.

—It works for both —he said with feigned gravity—: eating… and self-defense.

Blair’s laugh came out like a sigh of light.
—You’re odd.

—And you’re… gray-haired.

Blair’s eyes flew open and her hand jumped to her hair.
—It’s naturally white!

—Sure. Naturally —he repeated, as if tasting the word.

—Idiot.

—Charmed —he replied, dipping his head like a poorly trained gentleman.

The fire crackled. Between warmth and shadow, the night stopped feeling so hostile.

—I’m Blair —she said with gentle formality—. Blair Julis D’Blank.

He lifted a brow.
—Long name—sounds noble. What are you, some kind of runaway princess?

—Exactly! I am a princess. And princesses can do whatever they want. Including talking to insolent peasants in the middle of a forest.

He laughed, genuine.
—I’m Asori, then… silver-haired princess.

Blair huffed, but smiled and said,
—You’re insufferable.

—And you don’t shut up easily —Asori answered with a small laugh.
—Then it’s a tie —Blair shot back.

—Were we keeping score? —Asori raised a brow, dripping sarcasm.
—A tie it is —Asori declared.

Between jokes and barbs, they talked of trivialities: the hard bread, how she walked as if inspecting troops, how he looked more vagabond than villager. Little by little, without noticing, they’d drawn closer—no longer at opposite ends of the fire.

That was when he lowered his voice.
—I live alone. For years now. My parents… died. It’s good to have someone to talk to after so long.

He said it without drama, as a simple fact. But when he finished, he pulled something from under his shirt: a simple necklace with a clear orb, set in dark silver.

—It’s the only thing they left me. My father wore it the day he died. I don’t know what it is. I just… keep it because it was his.

Blair leaned in, eyes fixed. Her flower-jewel pulsed a little stronger. The orb on the necklace reflected the same light as hers.

—I lost my parents when I was small, too —she said, watching the fire, then added,
—I miss them as well—and I think of them every day. Their voices, their jokes… all of it. I know how you feel —Blair replied.

And then, for the first time in a long while, both felt—amid chases, loneliness, and dread—that they weren’t alone, that there might be someone with whom they could feel safe.

—That… —Blair whispered, surprised—. That orb… it looks like the one in my flower-jewel.

Asori frowned.
—You know it?

—No —she answered, though her gaze seemed to confirm things only she knew—. But it can’t be a coincidence. Maybe you…

Both objects thrummed for an instant, as if recognizing each other’s existence, and then fell quiet.

Asori tucked it back beneath the cloth.
—I’ve no idea what it means. I just… it’s the only thing I have left from my parents and I think of them whenever I can, even if no one— —he looked away, as if the next words cost him— Forget it.

Blair lowered her gaze and murmured:
—Objects that carry someone’s memory… weigh more than an entire kingdom.

He smiled, crooked.
—You definitely talk like a princess.

Silence filled again with breeze and stray sparks—until an abrupt shift split the air. The crickets went mute. The fire leaned, as if starved of oxygen.

Blair lifted her head, alert.
Again… it wasn’t my imagination. I’ve truly been followed.

A knight in black armor stepped from between the trunks. His red eyes burned like live coals; his sword didn’t reflect light—it devoured it.

The air thickened—heavy, implacable.

Asori rose, tension held in check.
—First a mouthy gray-hair… and now a gothic knight —he muttered, irony intact—. What’s next?

Blair, already on guard, let a spark touch her lips:
—Don’t get used to stone bread, Asori. You might be dining on something else tonight.

The armor took a step. The whole clearing seemed to step with it.

The knight in black armor halted at the edge of the clearing. The firelight warped across his plates like twisted tongues. Blair tensed at once, though not with ordinary fear: her breathing remained steady, her gaze firm. Asori noticed, and that strange calm stirred a faint suspicion in him.

The intruder tilted his head, letting out a dry laugh.
—Well, well… and here I was, only hunting. But instead of deer, I stumble upon a pretty young girl walking as if she wanted to be followed.

Blair didn’t answer. Her eyes, unwavering, fixed on him as if awaiting his next word.

—At first I thought I’d have some fun —the man continued shamelessly—. Like I usually do with girls who wander alone in the woods. But then I saw that thing in your hair. —He lifted his chin toward Blair’s circlet, whose faint glow pulsed like an exposed heartbeat—. And then my curiosity grew.

Asori arched a brow and dropped back onto the rock, as if the threat didn’t concern him.
—Do you really come wearing full armor just to bother girls in the middle of the night? How noble of you.

The knight cast him an annoyed glance but quickly turned back to Blair.
—Show it to me. If you let me see that jewel… I promise to be gentle.

Blair didn’t move a muscle. Her lips stayed sealed, her face a mask of trained coldness. Inside, however, her thoughts burned.

I can’t react. I mustn’t. My identity is a secret… and this man has already noticed my orb. If I fight in front of this boy, I’ll raise suspicion. If I run, I’ll confirm his doubts and the hunt will begin, and the plan will fall apart. Damn it…

The knight twisted his mouth into a crooked smile.
—So you don’t deny it. —His eyes glimmered with greed—. You’re a bearer, aren’t you? Even if I’m not sure… if I take you and that orb to my commander, he might reward me.

Blair clenched her fists beneath her cloak but said nothing.

Asori, indifferent until that moment, leaned forward. What he saw on Blair’s face was not fear, but contained determination. A hidden struggle raged within her, and that lit a different kind of alarm in him.

The knight stepped closer.
—Of course… I can’t leave witnesses. Rumors about the orbs must not spread.

His gaze fell on Asori, and his smile turned cruel.
—You. The peasant with hard bread. You’re going to die.

The black sword hissed as it left its sheath. The air grew heavy.

Blair spun toward Asori at once, hissing urgently:
—Run! I’ll handle this.

Asori looked at her, baffled.
—So… leave you alone with your admirer?

She didn’t answer, only pressed her lips tight. The knight didn’t wait any longer: he charged at Asori with his blade raised.

The boy lifted an arm in a clumsy attempt to block. The clash was brutal: the blade slashed across him, sending him crashing to the ground with a deep gash. Blood darkened the grass in seconds.

—Asori! —Blair took a step but froze halfway, torn between instinct and reason.

The knight laughed, satisfied.
—One less. Now you, pretty little girl, come with me.

Blair trembled with contained rage. But before she could move, a blinding light burst forth: Asori, writhing on the ground, arched as violent radiance flared from his chest. His hands clutched the necklace he’d worn since childhood. The orb set in it glowed brighter than ever.

The air quivered. The fire bent backward, repelled.

Blair’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Then I was right… he too…

Asori gasped, his voice ragged.
—I… won’t… die yet.

The knight recoiled in shock.
—What in hell…?

Power swelled like a storm. Blair knelt beside him, cradling his head with trembling hands.

—I can’t let it end like this! I can’t lose him now that I’ve found him!

She cupped Asori’s face in both hands. He opened his eyes just barely, dazed, trembling.

—Look at me, Asori!

And she kissed him.

The kiss wasn’t simple. It was a silent lightning bolt that shot through skin, nerves, and soul. Heat coursed through Asori’s veins, stitching the wound with unseen threads, burning away the pain, restoring his breath.

But it wasn’t only healing. It was a flood that swept everything aside. The whole forest seemed to lean into that moment. The fire burst in golden sparks. The air whipped into whirlwinds, tearing leaves, dust, and branches.

Asori’s eyes shone. His breathing changed—deeper, different.

Blair pulled back, lips burning, face flushed and panting. She stared at him in awe.

—What… is this? Did it actually work?

The henchman staggered back, startled.

Both orbs glowed in unison, their lights entwining like two converging streams.

The bond was sealed.

Asori opened his eyes, now blazing with the orb’s light. The air thundered as he lifted his hand and, with a burst of raw energy, hurled the knight against the trees. The impact knocked him out, his body tumbling down a hidden ravine.

A heavy silence lingered. Only the crackle of the fire dared to fill the air.

Blair, fingers brushing her lips, blushed, her heart racing—understanding that her “plan” had worked, all because of that kiss.

—A bearer… he’s a bearer too.

Asori stood for a few moments longer, still glowing, then suddenly the light faded.

His knees gave way. He collapsed.

—Asori! —Blair rushed to him, holding him against her chest.

He slowly opened his eyes. No strange light remained—only confusion, exhaustion, weakness.

—W-what… happened? —he gasped.

Blair looked at him, unable to answer. She had seen the fury, the possession, the unleashed violence… but she couldn’t tell him everything. She swallowed hard and forced a gentle smile.

—You defended yourself. And you won.

Asori frowned, disbelief clouding his expression.
—I don’t remember anything. Just… wind. And then darkness.

Blair held him tighter. She knew the truth was far from simple.

He let out a weak, broken laugh.
—At least I’m alive. I guess… I owe you one.

Blair’s cheeks flushed. She turned her face away, her voice tinged with a reluctant tenderness.
—Don’t get carried away. It was… necessary.

Asori smiled faintly, though a spark lit his weary eyes.
—Sure, sure… Silver-Haired Princess.

Blair huffed, but a smile betrayed her lips.
—Idiot.

She offered him her hand. He hesitated, then took it. Blair helped him to his feet.

By the fire, the two stood for a moment, leaning on each other, breathing in unison. The flame flickered, as if the forest itself wanted to etch the image into memory.

Asori, between ragged breaths and blood, gave a weak smile.
—I told you… the bread works for defense.

Blair couldn’t help but laugh despite the storm of emotions. The forest, a silent witness, kept its secret for one more night.

The forest seemed different after the battle. The air no longer weighed heavy, but in every broken branch, in every fallen leaf, lingered the echo of combat. The campfire had dwindled to embers, and the faint glow lit the faces of Blair and Asori as they rose to their feet, still shaken by what had transpired.

Asori had decided to accompany Blair to her home. Deep inside, he felt he owed her his life, and the least he could do for now was ensure she arrived safely. Yet the memory of their kiss lingered in his mind—along with the strange sensation it had awakened in both of them.

They walked forward without a word at first. The damp ground crunched under their steps. The wind blew softly, as if it had chosen to follow them.

Blair walked a few paces ahead, steady, though she glanced at Asori from time to time. He, on the other hand, kept his gaze distant, brow furrowed, his fingers absently playing with the necklace at his chest.

The silence lasted until Blair finally broke it, her voice low, almost a sigh.
—That man… that knight… he wasn’t just anyone. He was one of Zeknier’s envoys.

Asori lifted his gaze, curious, though his tone remained dry.
—And this Zeknier, who’s he supposed to be? The master of every gothic knight in the forest?

Blair turned her head toward him, a weary smile tugging at her lips.
—If only it were that simple.

She stopped, looking him straight in the eyes. Moonlight reflected off the orb in her hair, the flower-jewel glowing faintly.

—Zeknier isn’t just a man. He’s a conqueror. A butcher. For years he’s tried to seize the Five Empires around Azoth. Every place he touches ends the same: ashes, cities reduced to nothing, families torn apart. —Her voice faltered for a moment, then steeled itself again—. And now he wants something greater: the power of the Sacred Orb.

Asori raised a brow, not slowing his pace.
—The Sacred Orb? Sounds like a bedtime story for kids.

Blair shook her head, serious.
—It’s no myth. It’s real. And the worst part… is that Zeknier knows it. He wants to use it to end the war once and for all.

Asori lifted the necklace from his chest, the dull stone dangling.
—And what does this trinket of mine have to do with your stories?

Blair stepped closer, gently taking it between her fingers. The orb flickered faintly at her touch.
—Because this “trinket”… is the Orb of Air.

Asori froze, stunned.

Blair touched her own orb. The flower-jewel flared for an instant with a warm glow.
—And this… is the Orb of Fire.

Silence stretched. The wind swept through the trees, rustling the leaves.

Asori clenched his fist around the necklace and sighed.
—Look… don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful you saved my life, Silver-Haired Princess, but I don’t want any of this. Wars, empires, slaughter… none of it has anything to do with me.

Blair looked at him, serious, but with tenderness in her eyes.
—And do you think I wanted this? Do you think I chose to lose my parents, to bear this power, to live on the run knowing every shadow could be an assassin sent by Zeknier?

He didn’t reply.

Blair drew a deep breath.
—I’m searching for the other Orb bearers. Warriors like you and me. It’s the only way to stop him.

Asori let out a dry laugh.
—Warriors? You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m no warrior. I can barely… —he cut himself off, gaze falling—. I can barely protect myself.

Blair stepped closer.
—Then explain to me… who was it that nearly destroyed the forest with a single strike just moments ago?

Asori blinked, baffled.
—I don’t know. I don’t remember anything. Just wind… you… and then nothing.

Blair’s eyes locked on him, intense.
—That was your Awakening. The power of the Orb awakening inside you. You may not remember, but I saw it. It was like watching a hurricane take shape.

He looked away, uncomfortable.
—Great. A hurricane I never asked for.

Blair sighed, but a soft smile curved her lips.
—Maybe you didn’t ask for it. But it’s yours. And there’s something else you need to know.

Her gaze deepened, her crimson eyes glowing faintly.
—The kiss I gave you… it didn’t just close your wound.

Asori flushed instantly.
—Ah, of course. I knew this was coming up.

Blair smiled, amused by his discomfort.
—That ability is called Sweet Kiss. It’s a unique power of the Orb of Fire. When I use it… I create a bond with the person who receives it.

Asori frowned.
—What kind of bond?

Blair lowered her voice.
—I can sense where you are… your emotions… your life energy. Over time, that connection grows stronger. And there’s more…

She paused, as if the words weighed on her.
—The one who receives the Sweet Kiss… can only be healed by me. If anything serious happens to you, no one else can save you. Only me.

Asori stood silent, processing. Then he sighed and looked at her with irony.
—Perfect. So, besides being a Silver-Haired Princess, you’re also my personal nurse.

Blair couldn’t help laughing, covering her mouth with her hand.
—Idiot.

Asori watched her for a moment longer, and for the first time, he couldn’t cling to sarcasm. His eyes dropped.
—I don’t know if I want… to be tied to something like that.

Blair’s expression softened.
—You’re not tied. You’re alive. And for me… that’s enough.

Silence fell again, though it wasn’t heavy. Only the wind kept them company as they walked.

The sky began to lighten, painted in orange and pink hues. The forest shadows slowly withdrew.

In the distance, atop a hill, the silhouette of a walled city came into view. Towers, banners, and a castle rising like a guardian over the valley. The Kingdom of Azoth.

Blair stopped, gazing ahead with a mix of relief and concern.
—We’ve arrived at my home.

Asori looked at her, serious, then raised his eyes to the walls.
—Nice castle. Bet they’ve got fresh bread.

Blair smiled, and for the first time in days, a ray of hope pierced through her weariness.

Together, they took their final steps toward the gates of Azoth.