The Arkan forest breathed magic; its influence lingered in every corner. A thin silver mist curled along the ground, and even the smallest sound carried sharply through the air. Hooves cut through it in steady rhythm.
Two figures emerged through the haze.
Dian rode fast, his gaze fixed forward sharp, unwavering.
Above him, wings moved across the sky of Arkan.
Knox descended beside him.
"It is not weakness to acknowledge a mistake," Knox said calmly.
Dian did not look at him.
"An apology has value only when it is given to the right people."
After that, he said nothing more.
Knox understood.
By afternoon, the palace rose before them.
dark.
Unyielding.
Inside the court, the air was still.
At the center sat Rashnamon.
At his side stood Minister Vaelor—silent, watchful.
A faint smile rested on Raiken's lips.
The doors opened.
Dian and Knox entered.
They bowed.
Knox stepped forward and handed the sealed letter to the guard, who carried it to the king.
Rashnamon broke the seal.
Silence stretched across the hall as he read.
"The Seven Gates acknowledges its fault," he said.
A pause.
"And Arkan accepts the apology."
Dian stepped forward.
"If my actions have brought offense to the Arkan Clan, I regret them."
His voice was controlled. Measured.
Empty of submission.
Rashnamon studied him.
"Peace is not maintained by pride," he said, "but by understanding."
He gestured slightly.
"As my guests, will you dine with us?"
Knox inclined his head.
"It would be an honor—"
"I cannot stay," Dian said, cutting in. "There are matters that require my return."
A soft sound followed.
A quiet laugh.
Raiken stepped forward.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked.
His tone was light.
His eyes were not.
Dian met his gaze.
"I have fulfilled my purpose here."
Raiken tilted his head slightly.
"Have you?"
A pause.
Then, calmly—
"We do not often receive guests from the Seven Gates," he continued. "It would be… disrespectful… to leave without understanding what you stepped into."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Allow me to show you around."
Knox shifted slightly.
"My lord, perhaps—"
"This is not your concern," Raiken said, without looking at him.
"Raiken," Rashnamon spoke.
A warning.
Raiken inclined his head slightly.
Then looked back at Dian.
"I offer hospitality," he said. "Nothing more."
Dian exhaled slowly.
"…Very well. If you insist."
Lanchen stepped forward quietly.
"I will accompany you."
From the side, Minister Vaelor watched them—
measuring every word.