Ayros was sitting in his office, leaning against a heavy wooden desk. The room was dimly lit—the sun was just starting to rise, casting dim rays through the thick curtains. The room smelled of paper and wax from long-extinguished candles. There were documents spread out on the table, but Nault's gaze was fixed on the painting hanging on the wall opposite.
The painting depicts their family, a past that now seemed so far away. Naru stood in the center, still a child, no older than eight years old. Her pink hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders, and her purple eyes shone with indomitable energy. She was smiling broadly and carefree, holding her mother's hand.
Her mother, with bright blue eyes and long blonde hair, stood on the left side. Her gaze was warm but stern, just the way he remembered it. Ayros. He was standing to Naru's right. In the painting, his hair still retained its rich pink color, although even then several white strands ran through them like lightning in a stormy sky.
Now, his reflection in the window glass told a different story—his hair had turned completely white, leaving only sparse strands of its former color, like the ghosts of days long gone.
Gray hair Ayrosa was not a sign of age—he was only thirty-four. Her hair, once bright pink, like the petals of spring flowers, has almost completely lost its color. The white strands were not the result of time, but were the result of a much more severe loss — the loss of magic. The last sparks of power faded too abruptly, leaving not only an emptiness inside, but also a noticeable imprint on the outside. Every strand reminded him of what had happened, of events he would rather forget.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Nailt slowly raised his head.
"Come in" his voice sounded hollow and tired.
One of the servants looked into the room, visibly nervous.
"My Lord.".. The voice faltered. "Naru... She disappeared. Her room is empty."
Ayros was silent. It was like cold water running down my back, driving out all thoughts. He got up slowly, hardly knowing what he was doing.
"When?" "What is it?" he asked, and his voice sounded sharper than he had intended.
"We don't know for sure... At night, I think... The servants did not see her leave."
Ayros left the office, bypassing the servant, and walked confidently down the corridor. Portraits of his ancestors stared at him from dark frames, their gazes like a reproach, as if they knew what had happened.
When he entered Naru's room, everything was in its place... almost. The bed was untouched, the blanket neatly tucked in. The closet was ajar, and a recent change of clothes was lying on the floor.
"Damn it, Naru... Ayros whispered, sinking down on the bed. He didn't even need to inspect the backpack that was in the corner—she definitely took it with her."
He ran a hand over his face, trying to process what was happening. His daughter didn't just run away—she left with a specific purpose. And now Ayros had to figure out where she was going and what she hoped to find.
"If she left at night, she could have gone towards the city... or... into the forest..."
He got up and was just about to leave when he noticed a map on the edge of the table. His fingers twitched as he picked it up and unwrapped it. Routes were marked on it — forest trails leading to the city. In red chalk, Naru highlighted the path that she considered the shortest and safest. His heart sank painfully. She went to the city. She left alone.
Ayros abruptly left the room, hurried down the stairs and went to the nearest servant.
"When was the last time you saw Nara?" His voice was firm, but there was tension in it.
The servant hesitated:
"Last night... She said she wanted to go to bed early."
Ayros tightened his grip on the map. It's been too long. She hasn't been in the mansion for a long time.
He went to the main hall, where he gathered all the servants and briefly explained the situation. People were visibly nervous. Some of them remembered the rumors about the "White Reaper", some were afraid of accidentally falling under the wrath of their master, but everyone understood that the disappearance of Ayros daughter did not bode well.
"Check everything. Attics, basements, service rooms — everything where she could hide" Ayros voice sounded clear and sharp. "If she's not here, go to the city and check with every merchant, guard, or passerby. Find out if anyone has seen a girl with pink hair."
The servants rushed to run errands, and Nailt took another look at the map. His gaze darted along the lines of the route, as if he was trying to find a way to get to her faster. There was a heaviness in my chest, and my thoughts wouldn't let me rest. He knew that she was afraid of the dark in unfamiliar places. She wasn't used to noisy streets, and most importantly, she couldn't know who her enemy might be.
"Why did you leave?" flashed through his mind. "What were you hoping to find where you don't belong?"
The night was rapidly receding, and the gray streaks of dawn were already stretching across the horizon. Ayros strode through the cobbled streets of the city, feeling fatigue pressing down on his shoulders. His thoughts were heavy, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. It had been too long, and he couldn't afford to be idle.
He knew that the searches inside the mansion had yielded no results. The servants reported that no one had seen Naru since last evening. It meant only one thing—she had left before dawn. Clutching the map in his hand, Ayros ordered the servants and guards to split into groups and search all possible places where his daughter might be. Shopping malls, town squares, inns—everywhere the figure of a girl with pink hair could flash by.
He himself went to the city guard. The captain of the guard, a hard-eyed man with short-cropped hair, just shook his head.
"The girl with the pink hair? No one reported her. But I will order my people to keep their eyes open," he promised.
It wasn't enough. Ayros felt that every minute of delay could cost too much. He headed towards the market square, hoping to find some merchants there who might have noticed something.
"Yes, yes... I think I saw her," the elderly cloth merchant muttered, scratching his gray beard. "She was walking towards the north gate. She walked quickly, as if someone was urging her on."
The news burned Nailt. He knew that the northern gate led to the forest, the one that stretched along the road to the city. Remembering the map, he realized that this was the path Naru had marked with red chalk.
On the way Ayros thought back to his last conversation with his daughter. Quarrel. Words spoken with emotion. He insisted that magic was a dangerous force, but she stubbornly insisted that she wanted to learn. He forbade it, thinking he was protecting her... but now he realized that he had only pushed Nara harder to escape.
Ayros stopped, leaning against the wall of the building. He felt a flash of pain shoot through his temples.
But now is not the time for regrets. Naru went into the forest. One.
He rushed there, not letting his thoughts drag him back into the gloomy vortex of memories.
Immersed in his search, Ayros barely noticed how the fog enveloped the path. Around him, the trees stood like ghostly guards, and their branches stretched out towards him, clinging to his clothes. The silence pressed on my ears, making my heart beat faster. He knew that wild monsters roamed these places, but even they did not cause him such fear as the thought that his daughter could end up in the hands of someone dangerous.
"Please.".. If only she was alive," he breathed almost soundlessly.