CHAPTER 11

Darcel

D awn filtered through the stained glass, washing away the remnants of starlight that had guided our long night spent researching old texts and maps in the temple’s vast library. It painted a kaleidoscope of colors across the ancient scroll spread before us, illuminating the words we had pored over with meticulous detail in a vibrant glow.

Unable to sleep after the excitement of finding the Sanctuary of Renewal, we had labored throughout the night, shielded from the mental fuzziness that threatened to interrupt us with a potion Ren had concocted—a blend of bitter herbs that had effectively kept drowsiness at bay and our minds sharply focused.

Ren tapped a thoughtful fingertip on the scroll before feverishly scribbling on a parchment he withdrew from his pocket, his head bent low over the page and breath coming quickly as he jotted a note to himself. I wasn’t sure what discovery he had made or whether he was recording something that needed further research, but I found myself smiling at his eagerness. For all his distrust of me, I had no doubt as to his desire to defeat the curse.

Yet though the animosity between us had faded by our mutual resolve to forge a friendship, I couldn’t dispel the nagging suspicion that clouded my success in gaining the trust of my knowledgeable herbalist—a suspicion undoubtedly from the sting of my wounded pride that Ren had found it necessary to test my integrity.

Ren looked up and met my gaze with a quick smile as he gestured to the scroll; I gave him an absent nod in return, still struggling with my whirling thoughts. My conscience reproached me with the reminder that I was no less culpable. From the moment Ren had assumed his father’s role, I had covertly set my own tests to measure his loyalty and intentions.

Ironically, the very qualities I had evaluated in him—his loyalty to his family and his cautious approach to my motives—were traits I admired, yet which now served as a mirror reflecting my own flaws and inadequacies. These were not merely shadows cast by the cursed darkness that had once shrouded our land, but deep-seated imperfections in my character. As a prince I was expected to transcend these flaws, embodying the nobility required of my station for the well-being of my subjects.

“Prince Darcel?” Ren’s voice pulled my mind from its constant war against my insecurities, his eyes softened with a concern that felt almost uncanny after the hostility I’d grown accustomed to being directed my way. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

Skepticism furrowed his brow at my hasty lie. “Then is there another explanation for your inattentiveness?”

Remorse filled me that I’d allowed my consuming worries to come before the importance of our quest and consideration for a key participant, inattention even more inexcusable after our tentative truce in the invisible battle we’d been engaged in since we’d met.

“My apologies, I’m simply pondering the puzzle before us. No matter how carefully we study this legend, there doesn’t seem to be any hidden meaning.”

He smirked, his characteristic habit for whenever he successfully won a victory during our strained interactions “That’s because you’re not looking carefully enough—you’re only viewing the surface rather than what lies beneath.”

My lips twitched at the memory of the same accusation I’d made towards Ren when he hadn’t immediately seen the curse’s lingering hold upon the land. “Profound wisdom.”

Ren rolled his eyes, but strangely, rather than finding the gesture annoying as I had previously, it now only amused me. Ren’s interactions were so different to how my servants, loyal retainers, and subjects treated me—deference that lifted me up on a pedestal I often felt I didn’t deserve. Ren’s disdain had softened from the harshness that had been present before, teasing me like he might a friend, a change I welcomed.

“We’ve previously been viewing the legend at surface level, and while it presents an essential picture of what we’re facing, further detail lies hidden beyond our line of sight.” He traced his fingertip along each curvy letter. “This is an enchanted script.”

“ Enchanted? ” In my vast studies I’d never encountered a tangible example of this ancient magic. Intrigued, I leaned closer, squinting through the faint candlelight. “How can you tell?”

The corners of his lips curled upward, tinged with a hint of smugness. “My duty to decipher the legend doesn’t extend to sharing my trade secrets, but to commemorate our newfound truce, I’ll enlighten you.”

He held the scroll up to the faint light, tilting it at just the right angle. At first the ink appeared entirely ordinary, but upon closer examination I detected a faint glisten across the letters different from the glimmer of candlelight, as if some sort of power resided deep within the words themselves.

I blinked several times but the shimmer remained, evidence there was something hidden beneath the ink…contents I suspected contained information we desperately needed. “Extraordinary,” I murmured.

Ren’s eyes glistened eagerly, a welcome change to the suspicion that had been present until now. “The most important secrets and knowledge have multiple layers of protection.”

“Can you access it?” Desperation penetrated my usual stoic mask.

He hesitated for a slight moment—evidence of the wariness that lingered from our old antagonism—before nodding. “I’ll begin the preparations.”

He picked up his lantern that emanated no light and went a short distance away, pausing only to gather supplies from his satchel. Though I was too far to see which ingredients he used, the gentle clinking of glass bottles and the soft rustle of plants filled the quiet of the night, while the earthy and floral scents of herbs drifted towards where I restlessly waited.

I watched as he gracefully tipped a jar to dispense a few glistening flecks, pondering the almost feminine way in which he moved. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed it, but I’d uncomfortably dismissed the notion before. Now I wondered whether it was my guilty conscience that had caused me to ignore it.

Ren was a taller, more masculine version of his sister, and though my interaction with her had been brief, it had been memorable…and left me with regret. I winced as I recalled my condescending tone and the way I’d forced my royal decree on her father with no regard for her frantic objections.

I glanced away from the herbalist, trying to push aside the memories he stirred up. I might owe the young woman an apology once this quest was completed, but at the moment there was nothing I could do about it and I needed to focus on my task.

When Ren returned with the finished concoction, I expected some sort of paste or potion, but instead he carried a mortar filled with a very fine powder, almost like pollen. “What’s that?” I asked.

“A simple revealing charm designed specifically for scripts from this era.”

I watched in fascination as he dipped his fingertip into the substance, lightly brushed it over the ink, and blew; the powder scattered, similar to dandelion seeds carried by the wind. The layer of letters he’d covered vanished, revealing another line of text hidden beneath, written in a language I’d never seen before.

I leaned forward excitedly, squinting at the curling letters as though by intense concentration I could read the unfamiliar script. “Are you able to decipher it?”

He nodded. “It’s written in a language that requires an ancient cipher that only those of my heritage would know.” Ren pored over it, appearing to wrestle with the translation as he mouthed words to himself before finally sitting up with a nod. “It appears that the key to unlocking the spell lies in deciphering a riddle embedded in the text, which hints at three essential ingredients.” He read a bit further before lightly dusting the next line with his enchantment. “This part reveals the first riddle: where the heavens touch the earth and night kisses the day, seek the silver gleam where the moon's children play . A place that applies to all of these unique elements…an interesting puzzle.”

Despite my vast knowledge of my kingdom’s geography, the cryptic words left me feeling lost. I felt humbled by Ren’s knowledge of Lumeria’s vast landscape as he thoughtfully studied the riddle, studies which the cursed night’s hold upon the barren land would have forced him to acquire exclusively through books until the light’s return. I felt guilty that my misplaced pride had ever caused me to doubt him.

In the face of his expertise, I was desperate to contribute with the first thought that entered my mind. “ Moon’s children likely refers to something related to the moon.”

“Astutely deciphered, Your Highness.” Though Ren’s tone contained a politeness that had been absent in his previous biting remarks, I detected his underlining sarcasm as one corner of his mouth tipped up faintly.

My cheeks burned at my nonsensical remark, one that should have been beneath my royal training in logic and rhetoric.

For some reason, this man undermined the image of control I strove to maintain before my subjects, as if despite our current truce he had made it his personal mission to subtly get under my skin. “Don’t be too lavish with your praise.” Teasing him felt far preferable to the awkwardness from my embarrassing ineptness.

He smirked. “I will give you the praise your wounded pride craves if you happen to know which herbs only blossom at night in this area of the kingdom. You’ve already demonstrated a surprising array of knowledge in a subject I admittedly assumed a prince would be ignorant of, especially considering you acquired the services of a renowned herbalist.”

“Was that a compliment?”

A blush dusted his cheeks as he hastily looked away, once again demonstrating a shyness that reminded me of the demure behavior presented by women of the court, a quirky habit for a lad. “Simply a surprised observation at the depth of a prince’s education to include my field of study.” He cleared his throat, quickly returning to the matter at hand. “We need to discover which herb of the many that thrive in moonlight this riddle is referring to. The vague wording makes me wonder if there are other clues hidden within the text.”

Despite my gratitude for his wisdom, I hated the anxiety my ignorance caused to cinch my chest, an unwelcome reminder of my perceived inadequacy. I sighed. “I wish I could be useful enough to offer further insight, but I’m admittedly at a loss. Considering all plants experience the night, I assume most herbs grow beneath the moonlight.”

“Technically yes, but if a common herb was what was required, there would have been no need for the riddle to be so specific about these growing conditions or this unique location. There has to be something significant about the moonlight for this particular herb.” Ren’s brow furrowed as he mulled over the puzzle before his eyes widened with sudden understanding. “I’ve solved it.”

I startled. “ Already? ”

His first genuine smile appeared. “It’s actually quite simple when taking all the elements into account: where the heavens touch the earth …this phrase suggests a location that is at a high elevation, possibly the highest point in the area where the sky— heavens —and the mountain— earth —meet. Night kisses the day …” Ren paused and I nodded as understanding dawned.

“Of course; this part of the riddle implies a place that prominently experiences the meeting of night and day—likely a spot where the sky’s transition between night and day is clearly observable.”

Ren’s lips curved in a smile as he nodded approvingly. “There is a specific peak known for its breathtaking sunrises and sunsets, often used as a place for quiet reflection by travelers and monks.”

Ren considered a moment, as if carefully perusing a map inside his head.

“While there are various mountains across Lumeria, there is only one that meets both of these conditions— ginsei-zan , mountain shrouded in silver stars, so named because of its peaks that are often covered in clouds or mist, giving the impression it touches the night sky.”

I recognized the name. “ Ginsei-zan peak? That’s not far from here, within a few days’ distance.”

“A destination that is quite high in elevation, from what I’ve read.” Ren made a valiant effort to sound brave, but he couldn’t quite mask the weariness already filling his voice at the thought of another arduous trek so soon after yesterday’s grueling climb.

I eyed him worriedly. “Will you be able to endure such a journey, especially after a night of no sleep?”

“I’ll manage.” But he sounded exhausted, as if he’d already endured the long days of travel ahead.

Urgency assaulted me with all the reminders why it would be foolish to delay long enough for him to rest, none of which seemed substantial when weighed against my comrades’ health…though far more important when considering the well-being of my people, an impossible comparison when I valued both.

When my brother, King Ciaran, had first noticed the darkness’s lingering hold in certain sections of the land several months ago, we’d had no way of knowing how long it had saturated the soil or how much damage it had already rendered. Considering it hadn’t been extracted through my sister-in-law Aurora’s light magic that had healed the rest of the kingdom, we concluded it to be a darker, more sinister tangent of the curse we were desperate to overcome as soon as possible.

Yet such a mission wouldn’t be possible should the herbalist who possessed the very magic we relied upon be pushed too far as to be rendered unfit for the task.

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Ren steadfastly worked on the next section of the riddle. “There are various herbs that grow on ginsei-zan peak, but as for the specific one the legend needs: seek the silver gleam where the moon’s children play …”

This puzzle pulled him deeply into his thoughts for far longer than the others. After a few moments of quietly waiting, I offered a suggestion, hoping I sounded less foolish this time.

“Do you think ’silver gleam’ refers to the moon’s beams touching the herb? Is it…shiny?”

Ren tipped his head thoughtfully. “It most likely indicates something visually striking or reflective, likely referring to the plant itself. ’Moon's children’ suggests a location influenced by the moon—somewhere open to the sky and unshielded from moonlight. Given that some plants flourish under the cooler, luminous moonlit conditions, I infer that the herb in question thrives in open, exposed areas of the peak, perhaps in rocky crags or outcroppings bathed in moonlight. One herb matches all these criteria: the moonsilver herb , known for its reflective, silvery leaves that shimmer at night, which indeed grows atop ginsei-zan peak .”

I gaped at him in awe at his quick ability to piece together the riddle. He possessed far more intelligence and experience than I’d initially given him credit for.

“There’s a tale I read about in one of my herbalist tomes that specialized in the geography of this area,” he continued. “There are stories that speak of a moonlit garden on the very crest of ginsei-zan , said to be a place where the moon’s light touches the earth most clearly, bathing everything in a silvery glow so bright that it rivals the stars.”

I wanted nothing more than to press for details, but his deepening fatigue momentarily quenched my curiosity. He suppressed a yawn and his eyes began to droop, reminding me of the full night he’d endured. While my training had accustomed me to long nights without sleep, Ren had no such experience. Coupled with enduring two strenuous days of physical exertion he also wasn’t used to and having gotten little sleep the night before, he was undoubtedly exhausted.

I felt like a cad for having once more put the needs of my mission before my comrade and friend whose knowledge I still needed for what lay ahead. Though I was anxious to uncover the meaning of the remaining riddles, for now they would have to wait.

“That’s enough for one night.”

Despite his clear need for sleep, Ren felt the need to argue. “But we have more to decipher,” he weakly protested.

“If you’re allowed to remove this scroll from the temple, then we have ample time to solve the rest of it while en route to the first ingredient, but we’ll make little progress if you push yourself too much before we set out. You can only keep yourself going with herbal concoctions for so long before your body gives out.”

“You’re less unlikable when you’re considerate.” As usual he sounded grumpy at the thought of finding anything admirable in my character, leaving me to once more wonder why he seemed determined to dislike me. However tempting it was, now wasn’t the time to delve further into the mystery.

Ren continued to resist halfheartedly, but his protests lacked their usual vigor. His resistance waned as he settled onto his futon. As soon as his head hit the pillow he succumbed to sleep, instantly overtaken by exhaustion, a clear testament to how hard he had pushed himself—a level of dedication that, despite its recklessness, I couldn't help but admire.

After ensuring Ren was sleeping soundly, I left him to join the others who had woken while we’d been poring over the legend. Jiang had spent the morning hunting several quail, which he’d already industriously roasted over a campfire just outside the temple entrance, while Kael had procured berries from a nearby bush.

My guard’s eyes narrowed upon noticing Ren’s absence; he cast a dark look in the direction of the chamber where he slept. I hastened to explain the situation before he could mutter a complaint. “He was up all night helping me decipher the riddle hidden within the legend of the celestial dragon, so I thought it best if he rest before the journey ahead.”

“Due to his weak constitution and low stamina, we’re already short on time.” Jiang redirected his frown towards the dark circles beneath my own eyes. “Since we’re already wasting the morning, shouldn’t you sleep too, considering you were on the night watch?”

My habitual need not to demonstrate weakness compelled me to hesitate before I conceded with a sigh. “I’ll take a short rest while you two go over the plans for today.” I handed him the scroll detailing my and Ren’s findings. They pored over it with interest.

Kael’s eyebrows rose. “This is quite thorough, and different than the information we initially discovered within the legend. Was Ren holding back?”

“It was hidden beneath a charm masking a hidden script.”

By the subtle way Kael’s eyes narrowed I wondered if he detected there was more to the story, but the shadow that crossed his expression was fleeting, quickly replaced with his usual friendliness. “Essential information often requires additional work and expertise to uncover. Have you acquired all that’s necessary?”

“Enough to move forward for now.”

“For now? ” Jiang’s gaze once more darted towards the adjoining room where Ren rested, as if ensuring that the subject of his gossip wasn’t lingering nearby for his pending eavesdrop.

I frowned. “I will not tolerate any unfounded suspicion towards a man who has my full trust.”

Jiang ignored my unspoken warning and edged closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially so as not to risk drawing Ren’s unwanted attention in case he wasn’t fully asleep. “There is something about his demeanor that hints at deeper secrets. Are you absolutely certain he can be trusted and isn’t purposefully withholding what we need?”

A strange defensiveness swelled, a protective instinct for the scrawny lad I couldn’t explain. “Of course I trust him. I was present when we uncovered and deciphered the riddles, leaving him no opportunity for foul play.”

“Which were written in a language of which you possess no knowledge, preventing you from checking the accuracy of the translation,” Jiang said pointedly. “If only Ren knows the ancient language the information was supposedly encrypted in, he could easily deceive us about what it says. I would hate to waste our precious time chasing fairytales.”

Kael frowned at Jiang’s words and studied my and Ren’s careful notes more carefully. Though his expression gave no indication he doubted their contents, I sensed a hesitancy hidden in his manner much like the words Ren had used his herbal magic to uncover.

“Sir Jiang has a point: we’re placing a lot of trust in the knowledge of a man who is still a relative stranger. Not to mention Ren is the one who created the concoction that uncovered the script. He could have brewed a spell that caused the words that appeared to be ones that would lead us astray.”

I couldn’t deny their speculations were a definite possibility, nor that part of me hadn’t wondered that very scenario several times while Ren and I worked together. I sighed. “Some things come down to faith. Unless Ren gives me reason to think otherwise, I choose to trust him. Doubt will only hinder us, and we have little time for that at present. We have no choice if we hope to move forward.”

Finality filled my statement, indicating nothing more needed to be said. Jiang’s jaw tightened but he bowed in acknowledgment of my authority. Though he momentarily conceded the argument, I sensed this battle wasn’t over. And though Ren and I had only recently become friends, this fight to protect his character was one I felt strangely invested in winning.