Legends of the Forbidden Realm– The Sixth Era: Between Thorn & Feather

The sky was gray, heavy with the promise of rain. Kairn sat on the charred trunk of a fallen tree at the edge of the forest. His body was worn, his wounds still bleeding. He wrapped a bandage around his arm while staring silently at the ground. He was a young man in his late twenties, with dark brown hair that fell messily over his brow, and deep amber eyes that held a quiet sorrow.

In front of him stood the sorceress, draped in a black cloak embroidered with silver thread. She was a woman in her thirties, with long silver hair that reached her waist and sharp blue eyes like cold blades. She stood still, her presence calm and unyielding.

She spoke coldly,

— "I'm not used to knights defying orders. I thought fear of death was enough to silence your conscience."

Kairn answered tiredly as he tightened the bandage,

— "Death is frightening, yes… That's exactly why I won't kill refugees from Isilva, not even if they aren't entirely human."

Her eyebrow rose slightly, then she smirked with faint amusement,

— "They're not human, Kairn… They have no right to exist in human lands."

He looked at her, his amber eyes burning with quiet fury,

— "But they're living beings… If they had anywhere else to go, they would've left long ago."

She chuckled lightly, turned her back, and disappeared between the trees… leaving him on the blackened trunk, breathing slowly as blood seeped into his torn sleeve.

⸻

Elsewhere in the forest… the massacre had begun.

Knights in dark armor swung their heavy swords at small, fluttering creatures with translucent butterfly wings that shimmered like light itself. The fae tried to escape, but cries of pain and terror filled the air.

One of the faeries, a mother, held her tiny son close, her wings trembling.

— "Please… he's just a child! He doesn't even know how he got here!"

A knight laughed cruelly. His face was hidden beneath a black helm, only his cold gray eyes visible.

— "Then let his first lesson be death."

The mother fell to her knees, voice shaking with desperation,

— "Then kill me first… don't make me watch my child die!"

He ignored her pleading, grabbed the boy, and drove a dagger into his throat—then tossed him before his mother as she screamed in anguish.

⸻

Not far away, the commander stood atop a hill, overseeing the slaughter. He was tall, with black hair tied back, and piercing silver eyes. He stood silently, showing no emotion.

One of the knights approached him,

— "Sir… we've found no trace of Kairn yet."

The commander replied in a low, calm voice,

— "Keep searching… leave nothing behind."

⸻

In a small cabin on the outskirts of a distant village, a boy of fourteen sat beside his grandmother.

He had short silver hair and bright sky-blue eyes. He smiled as he spoke of dreams, full of hope.

— "Grandma… I want to bring peace to the world. To build a place where no one is forced to fight."

The grandmother, an old woman with white curly hair and a face full of soft wrinkles, smiled back warmly,

— "My dear… peace may not be possible. But hope alone can carry you far."

He paused for a moment, then looked down and whispered,

— "I wonder… what do I even look like?"

She laughed gently and patted his head,

— "You are the most beautiful boy these eyes have ever seen."

He blushed,

— "You're only saying that because you're my grandma!"

She laughed again,

— "No, sweet child. I speak the truth."

Later that night, the boy stood alone before an old mirror in his room. He stared at it… but his reflection never appeared.

There was a long silence… then he raised his hand toward the glass and murmured,

— "Do I even exist…?"