The silence in the room deepened, not from peace, but from pressure. It was the kind that made your skin crawl and your instincts brace.
And then… they appeared.
All six Shadow Guards.
Without summons.
Without sound.
One by one, they stepped out from nothing, silhouettes stretching across the sterile floor, drawn to something unseen.
Sofie didn't speak. She just stared as the ring on her hand began to glow, a quiet, pulsing light, deep and ancient.
No words came from the guards. No movement followed. They stood there, watching. Waiting.
Nicholson's hand instinctively reached for his blade, then faltered.
"What in the world---" he whispered.
Slacovich stood straighter, his eyes narrowing at the quiet line of shadows. "They weren't called…"
"They weren't," Sofie confirmed, breath low. "But they came."
Her gaze flicked to Ania, still barely conscious. The air around her shifted again, and the faint shimmer of something… someone brushed the room like a breeze from another time.
A whisper tickled Ania's lips, not hers, but layered. Faint. Regal.
"…they still remember me…"
Ania stirred, barely opening her eyes. "She's… speaking to me."
"Who?" Carolina asked sharply, kneeling again.
Ania's lips trembled. "Nimpha."
The name dropped like a stone in still water.
Sofie's breath hitched.
Nicholson looked toward the painting. "The portrait---"
Slacovich stepped forward, jaw clenched. "Yureiv's panic… it wasn't from the seal. It was from her. Something inside that portrait----"
He didn't finish.
All eyes turned back to Ania.
Only she could explain what was really happening now.
Yureiv's voice was filled with bewildered guilt, barely held together.
"I swear… I didn't mean for it to happen. I've tried before, so many times, to call Nimpha's memory… but nothing ever came. That night, I just wanted to see her again. I was desperate. My power never responded before… until Ania came."
He paused, his voice brittle now, as if ashamed to speak further.
"She asked me if I was okay. That was it. Then it happened. Something pulled us, together. Into a memory that wasn't mine. When we came back, she was fine. She even smiled at me…"
Nicholson, arms crossed tightly, added with a low nod, "She was normal until this morning. Laughing, alert, no signs of fever or strain. The fever just started."
Richard stepped forward, his gaze calm but sharp.
"We came only this morning. None of us have direct links to Queen Nimpha. If this began before then, the source was already in motion."
Then—
The room chilled.
This time, one of the shadow guards… spoke.
The voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
It rolled through the air like the hush before a storm, deep and resonant, vibrating in bone and soul, calm, cold, final.
"The thread is complete."
Everyone froze.
Even Yureiv's voice faded to silence within the painting.
The second Shadow Guard stepped forward. Another voice, different, but equally ancient, equally chilling.
"She bears the echo of Nimpha."
A third stepped beside them, towering, shoulders broad.
"Only the child can reveal what remains."
The lights above them flickered, not from power, but from presence. The kind that shifts the world slightly sideways, just enough to feel the wrongness in your skin.
Sofie swallowed tightly, her fingers brushing the Ring of Seal as it pulsed, alive, watching.
And in the stillness that followed, no one spoke.
All eyes turned to Ania.
Lying still.
But no longer alone.
Not truly.
The silence thickened, heavy with the echo of the Shadow Guards' words.
No one dared speak. Even Yureiv, still faintly glowing in the canvas, said nothing more.
Only the hum of the Ring of Seal lingered, a slow, steady throb like a heartbeat waiting for the next move.
Ania stirred.
Not violently, not dramatically.
Just a shift.
Her small fingers twitched around the edge of the blanket. A soft breath escaped her lips. Then… her eyes fluttered open.
Carolina exhaled shakily, tightening her hold on the child. "Ania…?"
The girl blinked slowly, disoriented, eyes glossy with fever and memory.
She didn't speak right away. Her gaze wandered, to Sofie, to Slacovich, to the silent wall of shadows that now surrounded them.
She didn't look afraid.
Only confused.
Sofie leaned closer but didn't rush her.
"Can you hear me, Ania?"
The child nodded once. Then her small voice rose like a leaf caught in wind.
"Is… he okay?"
Carolina leaned in. "Who, sweetheart?"
Ania's gaze drifted toward the painting, her expression full of a child's honest worry.
"Yureiv. He said it hurts in there. But I heard her. The lady in white… she held my hand."
Everyone froze.
Sofie didn't speak, only tightened her jaw.
Nicholson stepped forward carefully. "Do you remember what she said to you?"
Ania blinked again. Her fingers trembled.
"She was crying. But she smiled. She said… thank you. Then she told me not to be afraid. She told me to listen."
The girl touched her temple gently. "She whispers now. Like when someone sings far away."
The room tensed as one Shadow Guard stepped forward. The others remained unmoving, but something deeper shifted, like the past uncoiling from its grave.
His voice cracked through the silence, not loud, not cold, but ancient. A shiver rode the air with every word.
"We were forged by oath… not prophecy. Bound to the blood of the King. The bloodline was to be eternal. We were to protect it… protect her."
He paused, and in that pause, every flicker of light seemed to dim.
"But we failed."
His head turned toward Ania.
"Her presence echoes because we could not shield her. And now… a soul that once stood beside the King returns… fragile, yet unbroken."
The other shadows stirred slightly. Not action, just reaction.
"We are not awakened by fate… but by truth. The truth that our existence is a curse born of failure. And now, only through child… Queen Nimpha can decide if we still serve… or fade."
Ania stood up.
Her small frame barely reached the waist of the towering shadows, but she didn't flinch. She marched forward, fists balled, eyes glistening, not from fear, but fury.
Then she kicked one of the Shadow Guards.
Her foot passed through, of course, but the intent behind it struck harder than any blade. She kicked another. And another. Tiny foot stomps met shadow, making no impact, and yet silencing the entire room.
Everyone froze.
Then she screamed.
"Idiots!"
The word rang through the air, fiery and tearful, trembling from the force of her sobs. Her face scrunched, lips quivering, and hot tears rolled down her cheeks as her small voice broke into a full tantrum.
Sofie rushed forward and scooped her into her arms, holding her close, rocking gently. Ania buried her face into Sofie's shoulder, but her words kept coming between hiccuping cries.
"She said---Nimpha said---she's sad because you're all saying things like that! She's hurting! Because you all think you failed her, and the kingdom!"
Ania's voice cracked, louder now, almost desperate.
"She said you didn't fail. That you were tricked! That all of you were just victims of a traitor's greed!"
The shadows didn't move.
But the silence they carried… shattered.
The room felt heavier, and lighter, all at once.
And somewhere, deep inside the quiet heart of the Ring of Seal, the glow shifted.
Not from power.
But from recognition.
One of the shadow guards stepped forward.
Though it had no face, no eyes, its presence shifted the air, an ancient weight stirred beneath its form. The voice that followed wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
It echoed inside their minds, cold and steady.
"When we regained consciousness… we were already like this. Shadows. No heartbeat. No breath. Just… purpose. We followed the little prince, though he cannot see us. We don't know how, or when. Only that our oath chained us to the bloodline… and that we failed to protect the royals."
Another wave of silence. This time heavier.
Ania turned to face the shadow.
Her cheeks were still wet, her eyes puffy, but her voice didn't shake anymore.
"She said…" she sniffled, "She said… she will tell you everything. But…"
She glanced down at her own small hands, then looked back up.
"Not now. My body… can't take all of it. It's too much. She'll tell it in bits. A little at a time. And Yureiv will help too."
She looked at each of them, Shadow Guards, Sofie, Nicholson, Richard, with the strange calm only a child with too much weight on her shoulders could carry.
"She promised."
The shadows didn't move. Yet something shifted in their posture, like a silent bow carried on unseen winds.
"Then we will wait," the same shadow guard said. "We will remain near. Waiting for her call."
Ania blinked, wiping the corner of her eye with the sleeve of her oversized shirt. Her lips puckered in a thoughtful pout before she asked with innocent concern,
"But… how will I call if Big Sister Sofie isn't here?"
The question was simple, childlike, but it brought a hush over the room. Sofie turned her gaze to the little one in her arms, expression softening.
She smiled, brushing Ania's hair gently aside.
"I'll come by," she promised. "If there's no mission, I'll visit often. I'll stay as much as I can."
Ania's pout broke into a tired smile, her arms wrapping around Sofie's neck.
"Okay," she whispered, "Then she'll be happy too."
The shadow guards, still silent, faded back toward the corners of the room like loyal ghosts slipping into the walls, watchful, waiting.