The palace of Auentia was a place of wealth… but not of peace.
Golden light streamed through the tall windows, reflecting off polished marble floors and towering pillars. Servants moved quietly, guards stood still like statues, and everything appeared perfectly in order.
But behind that perfection, something was broken.
King Aurelion sat on his throne, his expression unreadable as a group of merchants stood before him, presenting their goods.
"Spices from the southern coasts, Your Majesty," one said, bowing repeatedly. "Rare and of the finest quality."
Aurelion barely glanced at them.
"And sugar?" he asked.
The merchants hesitated.
"It is… limited, Your Majesty."
"And salt?"
"Also scarce."
Aurelion exhaled slowly, clearly displeased.
"A kingdom that cannot provide basic necessities for itself is already standing on weak ground," he said coldly.
The merchants lowered their heads further.
"Forgive us, Your Majesty..."
"Leave," he cut in.
They didn't need to be told twice.
As they hurried out, the heavy doors of the hall slowly closed behind them.
Silence returned.
But not for long.
From the far end of the hall, a soft, uneven sound echoed.
Tap.
Pause.
Tap.
Tap.
The king's expression shifted slightly.
A young boy entered, supported by a maid.
One of his legs dragged slightly behind him.
His son.
Prince Kaelis.
"Father…" the boy said, his voice gentle but strained.
The king stood immediately.
"Kaelis," he said, stepping down from his throne.
The entire room seemed to soften ,but only for a moment.
"You shouldn't be walking without assistance," the king added, his tone firm but quieter now.
"I wanted to see you," Kaelis replied with a small smile. "You're always busy."
The king dismissed the maid with a glance and moved closer, studying his son carefully.
His eyes lingered on the boy's weakened leg.
A problem no physician had been able to solve.
A problem that had followed the prince since childhood.
"Did the healers come today?" the king asked.
Kaelis nodded slightly. "They said the same thing."
Aurelion's jaw tightened.
"Rest will help… time will help… patience…" the boy repeated softly.
Then he looked up at his father.
"But nothing changes."
Silence.
For the first time, something raw flickered in the king's eyes.
Not anger.
Not pride.
Frustration.
Helplessness.
The king turned away slightly.
"That is because they are incompetent," he said coldly.
Kaelis didn't respond.
He already knew that wasn't entirely true.
"Go and rest," the king said after a moment, his voice controlled again.
The boy hesitated, then nodded.
As he slowly left the hall, that uneven sound echoed again
Tap.
Pause.
Tap.
Tap.
The moment he disappeared, the king's composure cracked ,just slightly.
"Call them," he said sharply.
A guard stepped forward immediately. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Every healer. Every physician. Every scholar in this kingdom,bring them if you must drag them."
"They have already tried, Your Majesty," the guard said carefully.
"Then find better ones!" the king snapped.
The room fell silent again.
Then
An advisor stepped forward.
"There may be… another option, Your Majesty."
Aurelion turned slowly. "Speak."
"There are rumors," the advisor said, lowering his voice. "From Veritida."
The king's gaze sharpened instantly.
"What kind of rumors?"
"A healer. One unlike any other. They say this person has restored people who were beyond saving… almost instantly."
The king didn't speak immediately.
But something had already shifted.
Hope.
Dangerous, unfamiliar hope.
"Where exactly?" he asked quietly.
"Last known in Veritida, Your Majesty."
The king walked slowly down from his throne.
"If there is even a chance…" he said, more to himself than anyone else.
Then his expression hardened again.
"Send men," he ordered. "My most trusted."
"They are to find this healer no matter where they are hiding."
"And bring them here."
The advisor hesitated. "And if the healer refuses?"
The king's eyes darkened.
"They won't refuse."
Far from the controlled power of the palace, Divura stepped into Auentia with quiet determination.
The city was nothing like Veritida.
The air felt heavier, the streets more crowded, the people more cautious. There was a certain dryness not just in the land, but in the way people lived.
Divura noticed everything.
The lack of refined goods.
The absence of proper trade structure.
The hunger for something more.
And that was exactly why she was here.
"This place…" she murmured under her breath, her eyes scanning the market. "It's full of potential."
A man beside her gave a small laugh. "You must be new."
Divura turned slightly, calm as always. "Why do you say that?"
"Because only someone new would look at this place and see opportunity instead of struggle."
She didn't argue.
"Sometimes," she said softly, "they're the same thing."
The man looked at her again, this time with curiosity but she had already walked away.
It didn't take long for her to act.
Divura rented a small courtyard on the edge of the town. It wasn't impressive just enough space to work and rest but to her, it was the beginning of something bigger.
A group of locals stood before her, clearly confused.
"You want us to go into the bush," one of them said slowly, "and cut sugarcane?"
"Yes," Divura replied simply.
Another frowned. "What for? That thing is useless."
Divura folded her arms slightly.
"It's only useless because you don't know what to do with it."
They exchanged glances.
"And you do?" one asked skeptically.
Divura held his gaze without hesitation.
"Yes."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then she added, "And I'm paying."
That changed everything.
"Well…" the first man said, scratching his head, "money is money."
They agreed.
Days passed, and curiosity slowly turned into shock.
The courtyard became alive with activity workers bringing in sugarcane, fires burning, liquids boiling.
One evening, a young worker stared in disbelief.
"It's changing…" he said.
Another stepped closer. "That's not possible."
Before them, the dark syrup had begun to crystallize into something pale… refined… clean.
"White sugar," Divura said calmly.
They turned to her.
"How did you do that?"
She gave a small, knowing smile. "Like I said… you just didn't know what to do with it."
The workers looked at the sugar again, then back at her.
"This…" one whispered, "this will sell for a fortune."
Divura didn't deny it.
Because that was exactly the plan.
Later that day, she stepped out into the market again.
This time, not just to observe but to calculate,pricing,demand,Supply chains.
Her mind worked faster than the noise around her.
But then
A sudden commotion broke her thoughts.
"Move!"
"Give space!"
"Someone help!"
A crowd had formed ahead.
Divura frowned slightly.
She wasn't interested in unnecessary distractions.
She tried to pass through, but something made her pause.
On the ground
A child.
Convulsing.
Her expression changed instantly.
"Give him space," she said sharply.
No one listened.
A man scoffed. "And who are you?"
"She's too young," another added dismissively.
Divura didn't waste time arguing.
She pushed through them.
"Hey....!"
"Move," she said, her voice firm and cold.
This time, a few people stepped back.
She dropped beside the child, her movements quick and precise.
"Clear the area!" she ordered. "You're making it worse!"
Some hesitated but her authority was enough to shift them slightly.
"She thinks she's a healer," someone muttered.
Divura ignored them.
She turned the child gently onto his side, ensuring his airway was clear.
"Don't touch him," she warned when someone tried to hold the boy down.
"But..."
"You'll hurt him."
Suddenly, a woman rushed forward.
"My son!" she cried, panic in her voice.
Her eyes landed on Divura and immediately filled with anger.
"What are you doing?!" she shouted. "Get away from him!"
Divura remained calm.
"He's having a seizure. Stay back."
"Don't tell me what to do!" the woman snapped, pointing at her. "If anything happens to him..."
Her voice rose, sharp and threatening.
"...you will pay with your life, you lowly commoner!"
Murmurs of agreement followed.
"She doesn't know what she's doing."
"She's just a child herself."
Divura said nothing.
Her focus never wavered.
"Breathe…" she murmured softly to the boy. "Just breathe."
Time stretched.
The tension was suffocating.
Then
The child's body slowed.
The violent movements stopped.
A breath.
Then another.
Alive.
Silence fell over the crowd.
The mother stared, her anger replaced with shock.
"You… you saved him…"
Divura stood up calmly, brushing her hands lightly.
"He'll be fine," she said. "Just let him rest when he wakes."
The crowd was frozen.
All the mocking… gone.
Replaced with disbelief.
"Wait!" someone called. "Who are you?"
But Divura had already turned.
She walked away quietly, disappearing into the same crowd that had doubted her.
No pride.
No explanation.
Just silence.
That night, the story spread.
"A girl stopped a seizure like it was nothing."
"She didn't even stay for thanks!"
"They said it was like watching a miracle…"
Back in the palace, the king listened.
"A young woman?" Aurelion asked, his voice low.
"Yes, Your Majesty. No one knows her name. She appeared suddenly… and disappeared just as fast."
The king's fingers tapped lightly against his throne.
"A healer… and now this."
His eyes darkened with interest.
"Find her."
"And if she refuses to come?"
The king smiled faintly.
"Then she will learn… that no one refuses me."