The candlelight flickered gently in the commander's home. Wooden beams creaked under the quiet wind, and outside, the forest whispered its usual lullaby of rustling leaves. Inside, warmth lingered—laughter from a child, a mother's soft humming, and a man savoring a rare moment of peace.
Commander Elric sat at the edge of the hearth, his armor stripped away, replaced by a simple cotton shirt. He smiled faintly as his daughter played with a small wooden unicorn he had carved for her.
"I saw a bird today," the little girl chirped, peeking out the window. "It had blue wings! Like the sky!"
His wife, Miriam, brushed the girl's chestnut hair aside and chuckled. "Just don't go flying off like it. You're my little star, not a bird."
Elric laughed. "She gets that curiosity from you."
But then Miriam's smile faded. She glanced toward the window, her tone suddenly cautious. "Lately… I feel like someone's watching us."
Elric looked up.
"I'm serious," she said. "Every time I leave to get water, or even open the windows—I feel eyes on me."
The commander stood and walked to her, placing a strong, comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're safe here. But just in case... I've assigned two knights to stay close. Don't leave the house until I return, alright?"
Miriam hesitated, then nodded.
That night, Elric kissed his daughter's forehead, embraced his wife tightly, and stepped out into the moonlight. The two knights stationed outside saluted him as he mounted his horse and rode toward the capital.
Hours passed.
Inside, the house was quiet again. Until the daughter pressed her face to the window and blinked.
"Mama… there's a man."
"What?" Miriam turned quickly.
She walked to the window, eyes narrowing.
Just beyond the trees, nearly hidden in the shadows, stood a figure cloaked in black. His hood hung low, face unseen. But even from that distance, a cold, crushing presence seemed to radiate from him.
Ren.
Miriam quickly called for the knights.
"There's someone outside. Watching us."
The knights nodded, drawing their blades. "We'll handle it. Stay inside. Lock the doors."
But by the time they stepped outside… the figure was gone.
Meanwhile, at the commander's office, Elric sat at his desk, a rare smile on his face.
He stared at a small sketch on the wall—his daughter on his shoulders, his wife beside him, sunlight painted behind them. The corners of his lips curled upward.
"I truly love them," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
A knock.
"Enter."
A young knight stepped in and bowed.
"Sir… a letter. From your wife."
Elric blinked, surprised. "She sent something? That quickly?"
The knight placed it on the desk. "Said it was urgent."
As the knight left, Elric chuckled softly. "Couldn't wait until tonight, huh?"
He opened the envelope casually.
Then froze.
Something dropped out.
A finger.
Bloodied. Severed. With a golden ring still clinging to it—the very ring he gave her the night he proposed.
Time slowed.
His breath caught. His vision narrowed. "No... no..."
He tore open the parchment. On it, written in a jagged, mocking scrawl:
"I missed you so much… I thought I'd send a part of me to you."
It wasn't her handwriting.
The commander's eyes widened. "This... this can't be real."
But the ring—the ring was hers.
A scream burst from his lungs.
"NO!"
Knights rushed to his office, startled.
"Sir?!"
He shoved past them, wild with panic. "Gather every available knight—NOW! At my house!"
He sprinted, armor clanking, heart in his throat. He mounted his horse, whipping the reins.
The ride was a blur—trees bending, hooves thundering, wind tearing at his cloak. His mind raced with fear, dread, denial.
And then he saw it.
As he approached his home… his breath caught in his chest.
He slowed. Dismounted. Stumbled forward.
Two spears stood planted in the ground before his house.
And on each one… a severed head.
The blood had long dried. The faces were swollen, barely recognizable. But one had long brown hair—just like Miriam's. The other, smaller, delicate—his daughter?
No. No. No.
His knees buckled. He collapsed in the dirt, eyes wide, refusing to blink.
"No... not them… not my family…"
His breath came in short, ragged gasps. He clawed at the earth, chest heaving, his mind shattering at the sight before him.
His sword fell from his grasp.
His voice—barely a whisper, choked by horror:
"What... is this…?"