thief of fate-Chapter 104: quiet night

That silent night, beneath the moonlight tinted with blue, Carlos stood in the center of the grand royal chamber, engrossed in aligning the heavy, embroidered drapes and arranging the royal bed’s pillows with utmost precision.

His hands did not tremble, and his eyes watched every detail as if a single flaw could shatter the room’s balance.

It was his ritual before the return of his master... Valerian.

He gently wiped the surface of the dark polished wood desk, then paused to glance at a small painting on the wall—two crossed daggers over painted flames—the symbol of the family, the symbol of honor.

Suddenly...

Without sound... without warning...

Axel appeared.

He emerged as if breathed into being by the very air, standing near the balcony, his slender frame leaning slightly, his smile still carrying a trace of boyishness.

"It’s been a while, Carlos..."

He spoke in a soft voice, filled with a strange warmth.

But Carlos didn’t move.

In an instant, his calm features shifted into razor-sharp alertness, and he pulled a small dagger from his inner belt without blinking.

"One step, and I’ll turn your body into an anatomy lesson."

His voice was like polished steel—firm and unwavering.

Axel smiled faintly, unmoving.

"Still sharp as ever... but you forgot something, didn’t you?"

Then he said it—

A single phrase.

Three simple words that only two men in the world knew:

"Dawn never betrays."

Carlos froze.

The eyes that burned with suspicion retreated into silent shock.

The words pierced his heart like a blade—not because of their meaning, but because they were the ancient code shared only between him and the true Valerian.

"V... Valerian?"

He whispered it, like a voice rising from a grave.

Axel stepped closer, emotions flickering across his face, hard to define.

He wasn’t quite the Valerian who left him, nor was he the public version of Axel.

"In body, no,"

Axel said.

"But in soul... I am."

Carlos stood facing him, weapon still in hand, but his expression was shifting—from caution to a heavy sorrow.

"You’ve gone too far... far beyond, my lord."

Carlos said it with a tone heavy enough to fill the whole hall.

Axel sighed, looking up at the sky through the balcony.

"I had to... I had to be lost, to return with something worth bringing back."

Carlos approached, slowly placing the dagger on the table. His eyes searched Axel’s face—for the boy he once protected, the one he taught to fasten armor, to smile at fear, to hide tears when the world collapsed.

"And what did you return with?"

Axel answered in a hushed voice:

"I came back with an ending... that must be stopped. And a beginning no one understands. I returned... because Alexis deserves protection."

Carlos froze at the name.

"Alexis..."

He repeated it, like a prayer—or a beautiful curse.

Axel extended his hand and placed something small in Carlos’ palm.

A small wooden box, old, bearing the symbol of the shattered sun.

"If you open it now... you won’t understand it."

Axel said.

"But it’ll be what you need, when that moment comes—the one I told you about that day."

Carlos’s face tightened. He remembered—but gave no reply.

Axel turned and walked back into the shadows.

"Take care of him... even if I forget who I am.

He’s... all that’s left for our family’s reunion."

And before Carlos could respond, Axel vanished as he had arrived—

Swallowed by the wind.

Carlos stood alone, in a room prepared for a master who had not yet returned, holding a tiny box in his hand, and a fire in his chest greater than anything he’d ever known.

The night was quiet...

But tomorrow would not be.

...

Axel walked through the dim corridors of the palace as if he never left—

As if his feet remembered every tile, every crack in the walls.

He passed a sleeping servant unnoticed, paused briefly by a statue of the Lucard ancestors, and then moved on without looking back.

When he vanished into the darkness, the room remained still...

Silent...

Except for a single breath still carrying the weight of shock.

Carlos was still standing.

His hands clutched the box, and his eyes were drowning in a thousand memories... and a thousand questions.

He loved his master deeply—

Not the love of a servant for a lord,

But the love of a man who saw that boy rise from ash time and again.

That child he raised, taught to tie armor, to smile at fear, and to hide his tears when the world fell.

He had always wanted to prove to Valerian he was never forgotten.

That even if he pretended to be just a servant—he saw him. He understood him.

But tonight...

The truth was too vast to bear.

Was that really Valerian?

He whispered to himself, eyes fixed on the carving on the box.

Did he really live this way all these years—watching, building, planning?

He ran his fingers over the worn wood... felt its warmth.

As if something inside was alive.

He took a deep breath, then moved to a hidden corner of the room.

He opened a small wooden panel behind a cabinet—a place no one else knew—and carefully hid the box among old books and sealed documents meant only for times of crisis.

Then closed it with care.

"As you commanded, my lord..."

He said in a voice cracking from within.

"I’ll watch him... the one who bears your name, though I do not yet know him."

He then sat on a small chair near the door.

He didn’t resume his duties.

Didn’t change his clothes.

Didn’t drink anything.

He just sat... watching the door in silence.

His master had spoken in a voice that allowed no argument:

"Watch him. Do not interfere... just watch. If he fails, you’ll know. If he doesn’t... you’ll understand."

That was the only sentence he carried with him, echoing like a distant call.

And for the first time in years, Carlos felt a sword hanging over every heart—not as a threat, but as a fate whose time had come.

Elsewhere in the palace, the guards moved, and nights passed as usual,

But none knew that in a dark room, beneath elegant decor...

One man alone held the key—and waited for truth to reveal itself.

He didn’t know when that moment would arrive.

But he knew one thing:

If his master ever returned and asked him to choose—he would choose fire, not light.

Because loyalty, in his heart, was not a word.

It was a sword awaiting orders.

...

Carlos finished preparing the room in silence, wiping the last speck of dust from Valerian’s mirror, adjusting the covers, setting the curtain just slightly open—

Just how his master liked it.

Letting in a fine sliver of moonlight,

As if Valerian always wanted to see the night creeping in, but never to fully embrace it.

His hands moved mechanically...

But inside, he boiled—with questions, with old memories, with Axel’s hauntingly gentle voice.

How long have you been there, my lord? How long have you watched from afar?

He finally closed the door and made his way to the servant’s wing—a narrow, simple path, where the lights only turned on when needed.

He knew it by heart.

In the quiet corridors, his footsteps echoed alone.

The servants had not returned to their routines since the massacre.

Many had been relocated, some had died, and those who survived were still shaken.

He reached his small room.

A plain wooden door, without embellishment.

He opened it... entered... shut it... and exhaled.

He took off his coat and placed it aside.

Then sat on his hard bed and took out the box he’d hidden... and brought it out again, afraid someone might find it

He placed it in front of him.

Stared at it for a long while.

His hand reached out... then pulled back.

No... not tonight.

He said, turning away.

Then he opened a small panel in the wall behind a faded cloth.

He hid the box there, between his old journal and a thin knife Valerian gave him when he turned sixteen.

He sealed the space tightly, then returned to his bed.

He lay down, hand on his chest.

I’ll wait for tomorrow.

He told himself.

The day’s weight pressed on his bones, but sleep did not come easily.

Because, deep down, he knew—

Tomorrow might bring the start of a new Chapter,

Not only in Valerian’s tale,

But in his own destiny.

And inside him, a small part... feared what the box might reveal.

But a larger part... longed to know the truth—

The truth his master had hidden all these years.

And just before surrendering to sleep, he whispered to himself:

"My lord... whoever you are, whatever you’ve done... I’ll be there. As I promised."

Then finally closed his eyes...

Unaware that the moon in the sky that night...

Seemed just a little closer than usual.

"The clouds covering this moon are really beautiful.... you are the moon and I am the clouds that hide you"