Chapter 1: Welcome to Syrena

"In the midst of our journey, we forget what lies ahead and where we have been. All we see is the present moment, the road before us, and the beauty of the journey itself."

*.*.*

Cynthia had been on her own for as long as she could remember. She had never experience the love of a parent or the security of a home since that incident happened. Instead, she had been forced to moved from one relative to another, none of them were willing or able to take care of her.

To make matters worse, all of her inheritance has been taken by her so called relatives.

Cynthia had enough of them if she was being honest. She's tired or their mistreatment, she's tired of getting beaten up and toyed.

Cynthia was living in a hell that seemed to have no end, but what could she, a mere child, do to change her situation? All she could do was walk down the middle of the road in the winter, carrying her lone suitcase, and head to the orphanage.

Despite the cruelty of the world around her, Cynthia refused to give up hope - she knew that there had to be someone out there who would take her in and care for her.

*.*.*

Cynthia stood by the window of the orphanage, watching the world outside with a mixture of curiosity and longing.

The sound of footsteps approached, and she turned to see the caregiver, a kind-hearted woman named Mrs. Thompson, entering the room.

"Mrs. Thompson," Cynthia said, turning to face her with a hopeful smile. "Do you think anyone will ever come for me?"

The caregiver's expression softened as she approached Cynthia, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure someone will, dear. You're a wonderful girl, and it's only a matter of time before someone sees that."

Just then, the door creaked open, and a figure stepped into the room. Cynthia's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the man before her.

He was tall and imposing, dressed in fine clothes, with a white mask covering his face. His presence seemed to cast a shadow over the room, and Cynthia couldn't shake the feeling of unease that washed over her.

Cynthia sat on the wooden bench in the corner of the orphanage, her eyes curiously following the white-masked man as he entered the room.

His presence was imposing, an aura of dark mystery surrounding him. The caregiver approached him cautiously, her voice trembling slightly as she addressed him.

"Good evening, sir. How can I assist you?" she asked, her eyes flickering nervously towards the masked figure.

"I am here for the girl," the man responded, his voice low and emotionless. He glanced around the room, his gaze locking onto Cynthia. "Her name is Cynthia, correct?"

The caregiver nodded, a frown creasing her brow. "Yes, that is her. But may I ask why you need her?"

The man stepped forward, his movements smooth and deliberate. "She is to be taken to Syrena," he stated simply, his tone brooking no argument.

Cynthia's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Imperial Palace in Frostfall. She had heard stories of its grandeur and the powerful individuals who resided there.

Etreal had been rife with corruption, which made it an easy target for the Empire of Frostfall. The war concluded with Frostfall's victory, led by their crown prince, who had astonishingly commanded the battlefield at such a very young age.

She stood up, her curiosity overcoming her fear.

"And who will be taking care of her?" the caregiver asked, her concern evident in her voice.

The man turned his masked face towards the caregiver. "A resident of the Imperial palace will see to her needs," he replied. "I cannot reveal more. It is not my place to divulge such information."

Cynthia stepped closer, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Will I be safe there?" she asked, her voice small but steady.

The man glanced at her, his dark aura seeming to soften for a brief moment. "You will be safe," he assured her, his voice still devoid of warmth but carrying a note of finality.

The caregiver sighed, clearly torn. "If you believe it is for the best," she said, her voice resigned. She turned to Cynthia, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Be brave, Cynthia. This is a great opportunity for you."

Cynthia nodded, her resolve strengthening. She took a deep breath and approached the man, her small hand slipping into his larger one.

Without another word, the man led her out of the orphanage, his presence commanding silence.

*.*.*

The stagecoach rattled along the uneven road, its wheels kicking up dust as it carried Cynthia and the masked man towards Syrena. Inside the dimly lit carriage, the only sound was the rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves and the occasional creak of the wooden frame.

Cynthia sat opposite the masked man, stealing glances at him whenever she thought he wasn't looking. His presence was imposing, his white mask giving nothing away. She couldn't help but wonder about the person behind it, but she knew better than to ask questions. The man was mysterious, and he didn't seem inclined to talk.

Instead, Cynthia occupied herself by gazing out of the window, watching as the landscape changed from rolling hills to dense forests. She felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at the thought of entering the Imperial palace. What would await her there? Would she be able to find a place for herself in the grandeur and opulence of Syrena?

As the hours passed, the sun began to sink below the horizon, casting long shadows across the countryside. The masked man shifted slightly in his seat, his attention focused on something outside the window. Cynthia followed his gaze and saw the outline of the towering walls of Syrena in the distance, illuminated by the fading light.

The stagecoach rolled to a stop outside the gates of the palace, and the masked man stepped out first, his movements graceful and purposeful. Cynthia followed him, her heart pounding with anticipation.

*.*.*

Cynthia stood at the front of the palace gates, the grandeur of Syrena looming above her. The masked man beside her handed her a folded piece of paper, his gloved hand steady as he passed it to her. She took it hesitantly, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface.

"What is this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The masked man remained silent, his white mask betraying no emotion. Instead, he inclined his head towards the paper, urging her to read it.

Cynthia unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning the elegant script written on it. It was a name: Elio. And attached to it was a letter, sealed with wax and bearing the insignia of the Empire but the color of it is in red.

Her curiosity piqued, Cynthia glanced up at the masked man, but he merely nodded towards the palace gates, indicating that she should proceed.

Taking a deep breath, Cynthia stepped forward, her footsteps echoing against the stone pavement. The palace guards nodded in recognition as she approached, their imposing figures standing sentry at the entrance.

With trembling hands, Cynthia handed the letter to one of the guards, her heart racing with anticipation. The guard glanced at the seal, then motioned for her to enter.

As she crossed the threshold into the palace, Cynthia couldn't shake the feeling of excitement coursing through her veins. She was about to meet Elio, the librarian, and deliver the letter from the masked man who had brought her here.

*.*.*

Elio Hwraetle, the private librarian of Syrena, looked up from his book as he heard a gentle knock at the door. He took off his glasses, revealing his piercing gaze that many found intimidating, and asked in a soft tone, "Who is it?"

A nervous voice replied, "Are you Mr. Hwraetle?"

The door slid open. The young visitor, Cynthia, swallowed nervously as she met the librarian's eyes for the first time.

Elio recognized the child's reaction, knowing that it was a natural response to his imposing yet charming appearance. He frowned at the young visitor and asked, "Who are you?"

Cynthia spoke up, her voice wavering slightly. "Hello, Mr. Elio. I am Cynthia. I came from Etreal."

Elio studied her for a moment, noting the nervousness in her demeanor. "Did you come here alone?" he inquired.

"Someone else brought me here," Cynthia replied, awkwardly smiling and trying to straighten her posture.

Elio's curiosity was piqued by the child's presence. He sensed that there was more to her story than she was letting on. "What is it that you seek, Cynthia?" he asked, his tone gentle yet probing.

Cynthia hesitated for a moment before handing an envelope to Elio. He accepted it, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation as he tore it open.

As he read the letter inside, Elio's expression changed from curiosity to shock. His face darkened in terror as he realized the true significance of the message.

The letter was from the masked man, known as the Shadeseeker, instructing Elio to take care of Cynthia and warning him not to disappoint.

Elio's mind raced as he processed the implications of the letter. The Shadeseeker was a powerful and mysterious figure, and to receive such a directive from him filled Elio with a sense of dread. He knew that he had no choice but to fulfill the Shadeseeker's wishes, no matter the consequences.

Turning his attention back to Cynthia, Elio forced a reassuring smile, though his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. "Welcome to Syrena, Cynthia," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "You will be safe here."

His peircing eyes scanning the girl.

"Now... Let us discuss this in my study," he said gently, guiding her to a small room at the back of the library. As they entered the dimly lit room, Elio motioned for her to sit down on an armchair by the window, waiting for her to do so before taking a seat himself.

Despite the warmth from the place, Cynthia can only be seen with a thin layer of clothing. Her small stature is a testament to her difficult past; she is as skinny as a cell bar, a fact that caught Elio's attention.

Her peach eyes and dark-brown hair provided a small glimpse into her identity, yet it is clear that Cynthia is a young girl who is vulnerable and in need of care.

Frustrated, he led the girl through the estate, determined to find a solution to her situation before he could even properly process the events that led to her being here.

"Let's get some food first," Elio informed her as they walked. "We can't leave on an empty stomach."

*.*.*

As Cynthia sat at the table, Elio couldn't help but notice the small portion of food on her plate. His concern for her well-being grew as he realized that she likely had not been properly nourished in Etreal.

"Isn't that very little for a child like you?" he asked, his brow furrowing with worry.

Cynthia glanced up at him, a polite smile on her lips. "Yes, I only eat a little," she replied quietly, taking a hesitant bite of her food.

Elio's concern deepened as he watched her eat. He noticed the faint outline of her slender wrist under the sleeve of her dress, and his heart ached at the thought of the hardships she must have faced.

"You," he muttered to himself, feeling a surge of protectiveness towards the young girl. It was clear that she needed more food, and Elio resolved to ensure that she was properly cared for during her time at Syrena.

Setting aside his own meal, Elio reached for the serving dishes and began to fill Cynthia's plate with more food. "You need to eat more, Cynthia," he said gently, his voice tinged with concern. "You mustn't worry about eating too much. Here, have some more."

Cynthia hesitated for a moment before accepting the additional food, her eyes shining with gratitude. She began to eat with more enthusiasm, obviously grateful for the extra nourishment.

As she ate, Elio couldn't help but admire her resilience in the face of adversity. "That's better," he said with a small smile, watching as Cynthia ate with renewed energy. "You're doing great, Cynthia. You deserve all the good things in the world."

Cynthia looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Thank you, Mr. Elio," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "You're very kind."

Elio's heart swelled with warmth at her words, and he knew that he would do everything in his power to ensure that Cynthia felt safe and cared for during her time at Syrena.