During their conversation, Sky tilted her head slightly, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
"I've noticed that people here in Yemet have different eye colors," she said.
Shaka raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"The people of the South have gray eyes," she continued thoughtfully.
"The people of the East and the West have red eyes."
She hesitated for a second before adding,
"And lastly, the North has golden eyes. But they are rare. Golden eyes are mostly for nobles, royalty, and… all that stuff."
Shaka chuckled softly, clearly impressed. "I'm impressed you noticed all that, just after spending a few days here."
Sky smiled faintly. "Yes… it's true. But I don't really understand what they mean."
Shaka leaned back slightly, his golden eyes glowing under the lantern light.
"Let me explain."
He paused, as if choosing his words carefully.
"In Yemet, eye colors are not just genetic traits. They are symbols of lineage, history, and fate."
He lifted his hand slightly, pointing toward the distant palace.
"The gray-eyed people of the South are known as the Spirit Walkers. They are believed to be connected to the ancestors. Many of our priests, shamans, and oracles come from there. They say gray eyes can see what others cannot."
Sky listened silently, her fingers tightening around her cup.
"The red-eyed people from the East and West are called the Blood Lineages," Shaka continued, his tone becoming more serious.
"They descend from ancient warriors and forbidden rituals. Their blood is powerful, but feared. Many great generals… and monsters… came from them."
She swallowed.
"And the golden eyes?" she asked softly.
Shaka looked away for a brief moment.
"The golden eyes belong to the Sun Bloodline. The first kings of Yemet had golden eyes. That is why nobles and royalty often carry this color. It represents authority, destiny, and the blessing of the ancestors."
He looked back at her, his gaze unreadable.
"That's why people treat us differently."
"But among you guys… I mean the royal children," Sky added, frowning slightly in confusion,
"Khir, the crown prince, has red eyes. Emtse also has red eyes. Dalilah has gray eyes, and you have golden eyes."
She tilted her head. "It's confusing."
Shaka smiled lightly.
"My mother, the queen, came from the East. Her ancestors were from the South. That is why our blood carries different colors."
Sky blinked. "So the queen was a warrior?"
"Indeed," he replied with pride.
"Waaaw!" Sky was fascinated. All those traditions and ancestors.
People thought Yemet was a terrifying kingdom full of barbarism but it's not it actually.
Then something came into her head again, she was confused again.
Sky hesitated for a moment, then asked softly,
"But… if golden eyes are the royal Sun Bloodline, shouldn't you be the crown prince?"
Shaka's smile faded slightly.
"Khir is the eldest," he replied calmly. "In Yemet, the throne follows age first. He was trained from birth to rule."
Sky frowned. "But people see golden eyes as sacred. They must expect you to be king."
He let out a quiet breath, his gaze drifting away.
"They do," he admitted. "But expectation is not destiny."
He looked back at her, his golden eyes strangely tired.
"Khir carries the weight of the kingdom better than I do. He understands politics, war, alliances. He was raised to shoulder the crown."
He paused, his voice lowering.
"I am not interested in ruling."
Sky blinked, surprised. "Not interested?"
"No," he repeated, more firmly. "Power, rituals, thrones… they feel like chains to me."
"Oh, I see. You prefer to concentrate on your career as a doctor and researcher?"
"Yes, precisely," Shaka replied, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"And have you traveled to other kingdoms?" Sky asked, trying to sound casual.
"Yes, of course. Creoleon, Nightzam… and Iris Chester, though we are not exactly on friendly terms," he said, his golden eyes calm.
The moment Sky heard Iris Chester, a strange sensation hit her chest. Her mind spun, and flashes of unfamiliar yet oddly familiar images—grand halls, sunlit corridors, faces she couldn't place—raced past her.
"Iris… Iris Chester?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Have you… been there?" Shaka asked, noticing the sudden change in her expression.
Sky's fingers tightened around her cup. She shook her head, trying to suppress the tremor in her hands. No… it can't be. I've never been there, she told herself.
But the visions didn't stop. A soft laugh echoed in her mind, the same as someone she felt she once knew. A flash of red hair caught the sunlight in a memory she couldn't place. A familiar warmth—but it wasn't her own.
Her body went cold. She shivered, and for a brief moment, her heart felt like it had been pried open.
"Sky?" Shaka leaned closer, his voice laced with concern. "Are you okay?"
She forced a small, unconvincing nod, her lips tight. "I… I'm fine. Just… dizzy for a moment."
Shaka's golden eyes studied her carefully. Something flickered across his gaze, a faint unease. He couldn't explain why, but it felt… as if the shadows of another life were brushing against her soul.
Sky took a deep breath, trying to push the images away.
Sky's vision blurred, the flashes of memory spinning faster and faster. Her hands shook, and she felt a strange weight pressing against her chest.
She wanted to stand—to move—but her legs refused to obey.
I… I can't… she thought, panic rising.
Before she could say a word, her knees buckled. Her cup slipped from her trembling fingers, shattering on the floor with a sharp crash.
"Sky!" Shaka shouted, springing forward. His golden eyes widened in alarm as he caught her just before she hit the ground.
Her body went limp in his arms. Her breathing was shallow, uneven.
"What's happening? Stay with me!" Shaka murmured, pressing her gently against him. His hands shook slightly—a rare crack in his calm demeanor.
Sky's mind drifted, the images overwhelming her senses. Faces, halls, sunlight, and shadows collided in a whirlwind she could not control.
And then… nothing.
Darkness claimed her.