The Reapers : Sons of the Void

Morning — Forest's Edge, First Light of Day

As dawn spread a thin veil across the sky, the camp was already broken. The fire had died; its ashes blended into the earth. Only a few footprints remained and the scent of sleep clung to the grass.

Felix rode at the front, moving slowly. Miller scanned their surroundings with keen eyes, while Brien still yawned, his cheerful demeanor undimmed.

Brien (groggily): "I still miss my pillow. Isn't there someone to tuck me back in?"

Miller: "Walk, Brien. We'll reach the Duchy of Auren in a few hours."

Felix: "And that place… is an old nest. But not every nest is warm."

Flashback — Felix's Memory of AurenClosing his eyes briefly on the trail, Felix drifted into the past.

Narrator:

Childlike footsteps echoed off stone corridors as young Felix Auren walked through the grand halls of Auren Manor, a wooden sword at his side. His sister, Velora Auren, stood at the top of the stairs, watching him from above.

"You think you've grown—but your heart must be as strong as your sword."

At that moment, Felix felt less like an Auren child and more like a shadow-dwelling boy. Velora's gaze held distance rather than pride—cold, yet noble.

To him, the Duchy of Auren was not just a home, but walls bearing the weight of history.

Afternoon — Arrival at Auren ManorThe horses navigated a mountain trail, and suddenly the valley opened: standing majestic amid the landscape was Auren Manor.

Narrator:

Auren is one of Leonhardt's oldest noble houses, rich not only in martial strength but in knowledge.

The grey walls were far from plain; each stone seemed carved with memories of ages past. The Aurens displayed grandeur with understated elegance. A golden lion relief hovered over the main gate, clutching a sun—symbols of their legacy of brilliance and wisdom. Arched courtyards and grand colonnades amplified every footstep; this was not merely a family seat, but living history.

Brien (awed): "So this… is your old home? Like a royal academy, but with deeper shadows and more solemnity."

Miller: "It's not just a home. It's… history."

Late Afternoon — Marble Halls, Meeting VeloraThey passed through stone corridors where the Aurens' grandeur grew with each step. Portraits lined the walls; golden light filtered through arched windows, echoing silent nobility.

In the grand hall stood Baroness Velora Auren—an imposing statue in black and silver, bearing neither warmth nor coldness, only control.

Felix bowed respectfully.

Felix: "Baroness, as promised, I have arrived."

Velora (nodding): "Welcome, General Felix Auren… and your guests."

Her gaze briefly paused on Brien and Miller, but no questions followed—no interest beyond acknowledging their arrival.

Brien (whispering to Miller): "If she smiled, would the manor crumble?"

Miller: "Apparently, that's just how it is here."

Suddenly, a side door opened briskly.

Narrator:

Soft yet firm footsteps announced someone's presence even before they appeared. It was clear they'd just finished sword training: their black tunic was damp with sweat, torn at the left sleeve, and their short, straight black hair stuck to their neck.

Their eyes glimmered with inky darkness. Their beauty was striking—so intense it drew attention involuntarily.

Brien and Miller turned as Arwen Auren entered. Silence fell. Brien almost whistled—but Miller nudged him.

Brien (whisper): "Who is she? One of the manor guards?"

Arwen didn't even glance at them—instead, her gaze fixed directly on Felix. Pausing for a moment, she walked forward with resolve and sincerity. Without a word, she raised her right fist and delivered a light yet precise blow to Felix's arm.

Arwen (teasing, but warm): "You're late, old man."

Then she immediately embraced him. Felix didn't falter; he dipped his head slightly, his eyes welling with tears for a moment.

Felix (choking up): "You've grown."

Arwen said nothing as she lingered. Then she stepped back, turned, and gave Brien and Miller only a slight nod. No name was spoken. No introductions.

Narrator:

Though they learned nothing of her name or role, Brien and Miller instinctively knew this was no ordinary girl. They knew nothing about her—but her presence spoke volumes.

Great Hall — Introduction and SurpriseArwen remained at Felix's side, her cropped black hair damp at her forehead, her gaze sharp and intense. She glanced briefly at Miller, then to Brien, as if recognizing something familiar. With deliberate steps, she approached Brien, eyes flickering. Then, suddenly, she raised her fist and tapped his shoulder lightly.

Arwen (mocking): "Soft, aren't you?"

Unexpectedly, Brien caught her wrist reflexively, shifted her balance, and lightly unsettled her stance. She stumbled, steadying herself just before falling.

Brien (smiling sarcastically): "Curious, are you? You could've asked for my résumé."

Arwen blinked, momentarily startled, but remained dignified. Felix watched from a distance, raising his eyebrows, his eyes bright with unspoken joy.

Felix (under his breath): "Seems it worked…"

Miller (laughing): "Careful, Brien—now you're actually taken seriously."

Arwen withdrew her wrist, looked into Brien's eyes—not with anger, but with curiosity and challenge.

Arwen (cool and lightly smiling): "So it's not just talk…"

Brien (shrugging, grinning): "Talking's my hobby. Not getting hit is a new one."

Tension shifted into curiosity and a subtle intrigue. Arwen folded her arms, regarding him not as a threat, but as a rival.

Felix (softly smiling): "Perhaps this pair will adapt faster than I thought."

Narrator:

Arwen hadn't dismissed her match—Brien had never before felt so acknowledged in a duchy's great hall. This meeting was merely the start of a bond destined to grow.

Dusk — Private Conversation in the Ancient ChamberThe sun sank behind the valley; the stone walls sat shrouded in dim silence. At Velora's invitation, Felix entered an old council room—the kind that knows secrets and speaks no words. Velora stood by the window, rigid and controlled. Felix seated himself opposite her, waiting.

Velora: "Why did you bring them here, Felix?"

Felix (calm, resolute): "Because they needed protection."

Velora: "On Pendragon's orders?"

Felix (without hesitation): "Yes. He's not merely training them… he's watching, measuring them. I don't know why the King is so urgent."

Velora sat down, pinching her lips into a thin line.

Velora: "Urgent about what, Pendragon?"

Felix met her gaze and took a breath before speaking:

Felix: "Brien is a pure-blooded Reaper. His lineage may have been erased, but his power is awakening. And Miller… he's not only a Reaper. He carries the essence of Vartikan and Nebulis as well. He's not just a half-breed—he may be the first fulcrum of balance from three bloodlines."

Silence fell heavily. Velora, so ice-cool that day, was shocked—yet part of her was pleased.

Velora (softly): "A pure Reaper…and a tri-line balance? Felix, what have you drawn yourself into? Why bring them to House Auren?"

Felix: "Because I trust no one more than you, Velora."

Velora lowered her eyes, letting her hands rest still upon her lap. After a pause, she raised her head, her voice steady, cold yet understanding.

Velora: "We will dine together tonight. But do not prevent me from putting them to the test. If these children are the center of fate, House Auren cannot turn a blind eye."

Felix: "That is why we are here."

The door opened. Sconces flickered beyond, and dinner time beckoned.

Twilight — Courtyard Evening SceneWhile Felix and Velora remained inside, the three youths gathered in the courtyard's stone benches. As the sky shifted from warm orange to deep purple, a hushed serenity took hold.

Arwen had changed from her training tunic into a formal dark-blue outfit bearing the Auren crest, yet her posture remained relaxed. Brien sat sideways on a stone bench with feet propped up on the table; Miller faced him, and Arwen watched from the corner.

Arwen (calm but curious): "You're Brien, right?"

Brien (without looking up, tossing a pebble): "Right here. You've got to own your identity these days."

Arwen smiled lightly and sat beside him, stealthily close. Brien remained oblivious, still focused on carving shapes in the stone.

Arwen: "When we fought, your balance was good. Is that natural, or luck?"

Brien (shrugging): "Don't know. I usually try not to fall. My head's fine—feet stay off the ground."

Arwen paused thoughtfully, then tilted her head and glanced at him. Miller silently watched the exchange. Arwen's gaze stayed fixed on Brien—measured, probing, tinged with curiosity.

Miller (quietly, to himself): "Hmm… those eyes aren't on swordplay. They're on something else."

Brien, unaware of the tension, broke the silence:

Brien: "Do you always speak with your eyes? Or am I just missing the signals?"

Arwen (smiling): "You're not getting it. But that's not your fault. Maybe that's what makes it interesting."

Brien: "Are you mocking me, or flirting? Because if it's both, my brain might split in half."

Miller chuckled softly, shaking his head.

Miller: "Stone-headed Brien."

Brien: "What are you saying? I'm just… reading the pattern in the stone. It's strategy, you know?"

Arwen, softly to Miller:

Arwen: "So innocent?"

Miller (quiet laughter): "No. Just… genuine. That's why you found him fascinating, right?"

Arwen said nothing further. She looked down, then slowly stood. Before turning away, she looked at Brien one last time:

Arwen: "Tonight at dinner, I'll want to understand more, Brien. Be prepared."

Brien (startled, lifting his head): "Understand what? Is there something on the menu?"

Arwen only nodded once, then walked away.

Miller (humorously exasperated): "You really are the most impenetrable defense in history. You let nothing in or out."

Brien: "What did you say, honestly?"

Narrator:

In Arwen's eyes, there was an unfamiliar curiosity; on Miller's face, a familiar wisdom; and Brien—still tangled in confusion. Yet sometimes the purest touch is the deepest. Arwen had sensed it long ago.