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Tikka
[The sound of men murmuring as it echoed through the room.]
"As we all know, the king has been ill for a year now, struck by an illness for which we have no cure," Animus, the king's right-hand man, spoke up to address the room filled with Kingdom councillors. "But I assure you, we are doing our best to keep the king in good condition."
"Why can't we see the king?" Lot shouted, his voice filled with frustration. "The kingdom has been in ruins since the king's illness. The late queen couldn't bear a son for the king, but a daughter, who is too young to be crowned queen. Each day, the people of TiKKA dwindle in number, with less food to sustain us. The trade with Valorian has been cancelled for some unknown reason. This madness has to end, or we will all perish." He shouted.
"I'm well aware of the kingdom's struggles," Animus replied calmly. "What would you propose we do? You are the wise men of this kingdom, with years of wisdom guiding you."
"I believe I speak for all," Lot said, striking his hand against the table. "We should strike a deal with Daria. We have an abundance of iron and limestone, while they have less. It's a fair trade."
"Who else is in favor of striking a deal with the people of Daria?" Animus asked, but the room fell silent.
"We will see to it. Write a letter to them. I doubt it will be accepted, but it's worth a try, right?" Animus said, turning to leave. "This meeting is over."
As the councillors departed, Animus whispered to himself, his eyes gleaming with malice.
"Find the Second Book of Tova faster” he heard a whispering voice.
[Meanwhile, in another part of the castle...]
"Princess Charlotte, where are you? You need to take your bath," her personal maid Aurelia called out, searching for the young princess.
TiKKA market
"Get out of here, you filthy beggar!" the fruit trader yelled, chasing the hungry kid from his stand. "This isn't a sightseeing spot! You've got no money, move on!"
The market was bustling with people, the sounds of vendors and customers filling the air.
Just then, a commotion erupted. "Thief!" someone shouted. A young boy darted past a little girl dressed in a black robe, accidentally knocking her down as he fled. The man who had been robbed gave chase, but the boy was too fast.
The little girl, still sitting on the ground, spotted him vanishing into an old, crumbling building nearby. Curiosity stirred within her. Without hesitation, she got up and followed.
As she slipped through the doorway, the dim light revealed a quiet, heartbreaking scene. The boy was tearing a single loaf of bread into pieces, distributing them among a small group of hungry children. One of them—a frail, sickly girl—smiled weakly at him, only to be overtaken by a violent cough. Blood trickled from her nose.
The boy quickly knelt beside her, wiping the blood with the sleeve of his tattered shirt, his expression filled with care and sorrow.
“You little thief,” the girl called out, trying her best to sound authoritative. “Where are your parents?” She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t they ever teach you that stealing is wrong?”
A sly grin tugged at her lips, but her tone held more curiosity than scorn.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” the boy shouted, clearly startled by her sudden presence.
She dusted off her robe, lifting her chin. “You ran past me and knocked me to the ground without so much as a sorry! But that’s not why I’m here.” Her gaze shifted to the loaf in his hands. “You’re going around stealing food—food people work hard to earn. Where are your parents?”
He froze at her words. “Stealing? Parents?” His voice cracked with bitterness as he stepped closer.
He grabbed the edge of her robe, his eyes scanning the ornate jewelry she wore. Rich fabric. Polished gold. Everything about her screamed privilege.
“You have no idea what we’ve been through,” he said coldly. “You look like someone who’s never missed a meal in her life. Big house. Soft bed. People who love you.”
He paused, his voice trembling now. “I used to have that. My parents… they were kind. Honest. They never hurt anyone. But someone accused them of a crime they didn’t commit. I watched them get dragged away. I watched them die.”
His fists clenched at his sides.
“I thought coming to the capital would be different. But it’s worse here. The rich live in comfort while the poor are forgotten. Children vanish. Some are sold like cattle. And no one—no one—cares.”
He looked away, trying to hold back the emotion rising in his throat.
“So don’t stand there pretending to understand. You don’t know what it’s like to be invisible.”
“They step on you just to get ahead,” he said, his voice low and bitter. “They don’t care if you’re old, young, or just a kid. The royals take everything from the people—live in comfort with their families, while we rot in the streets. They laugh behind golden walls while children are kidnapped, sold like animals... and no one stops them. They get away with anything. They’re the real thieves.”
He stepped into the light, eyes dark with pain. “Have you ever truly been hungry? I doubt it. Look around—this is where we live. Crumbling walls, no roof, no food. We never know if we’ll eat tomorrow. Sometimes I’m so hungry, I feel like I’m disappearing… like I’m fading out of existence.”
He looked past her, to the corner where Sarah lay coughing. “No one notices me. No one checks if I’m okay. I’m just another ghost in the crowd.”
His voice cracked. “You have no idea what it’s like to be alone. To have nothing. But I’m still here. I’m still fighting.”
He clenched his fists, fighting back the flood of emotion. “Don’t assume everyone has what you have. There are people like me, just trying to breathe.”
He pointed to his chest. “Look at me—really look. The scars, the dirt, the nights I slept in the cold with no blanket. Sarah might die, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
He paused, eyes glossy, his voice reduced to a whisper. “Sometimes I wonder… what’s the point of surviving like this?”
She said nothing at first—but her expression changed. Something in her heart shifted. She could feel the weight of his words. The pain. The truth. And for the first time, she didn’t see a thief.
She saw a boy—broken, but still standing.
"I've experienced something similar," she said to herself. "I died, but fate gave me another chance. I was reborn in this world where magic and things in fairy tales are real. Here, magic energy is harnessed through Eno and Dio. I possess an extraordinary ability called Infinitesimal Insight, and I'm still learning to master it, my formal life was a failure, having a second chance, I would make things right, As the princess of this kingdom, my life hasn't been easy. I haven't seen my dad in a year. My mother passed away six years after my birth, and Father's health began to decline soon after. I suspect emotional trauma played a role, I won't let any of this in takka, I will strive for a better tomorrow, to help the poor, equality, no one higher than another , justice, I just need time “ as tears run down her face.
“Perhaps I was brought here to change the course of events." She whispered
"I'm sorry for what you've endured," she said softly, her eyes shimmering with empathy. "This might not be much, but..." — she removed her jewelry and held it out to him.
"I can't take that," he said, shaking his head. "It's too valuable. These are our problems, not yours."
"It's really not a big deal," she insisted, placing the jewelry gently into his hands. "I have plenty. Use it to buy medicine—for Sarah."
He stared at the items, hesitating, then finally accepted them, clutching them close. After a long pause, he looked up at her.
"What's your name?"
She hesitated, thoughts racing. If I tell him, things could spiral out of control...
"My name isn’t important," she said quietly. "Tell me yours instead."
"...Zack," he replied.
She nodded, then turned away. As she ran back toward the palace, she wiped at the tears escaping her eyes, her heart heavy with a truth she could never speak.
TiKKA PALACE
“Search every inch of the palace for Princess Charlotte!” Animus thundered. “She can’t have gone far—she’s only twelve! Those tiny legs couldn’t have carried her far. You fools! How could you let her slip past you?”
Guards scattered in all directions, sweeping through corridors, towers, and courtyards, leaving no stone unturned.
But unknown to them, Princess Charlotte had quietly slipped away through a hidden door tucked behind a bookshelf in her room—one only she and a few trusted souls knew about. After returning, she had taken a bath, dressed in her usual attire, and exited her quarters as though nothing had happened.
Upon her return, Aurelia—her personal maid—stood waiting, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
“Where have you been, Princess Charlotte?” she scolded. “You know you’re not allowed outside the palace. The world beyond these walls is dangerous.”
Charlotte winced at the reprimand but said nothing. As Aurelia continued, Charlotte’s gaze drifted toward her maid with quiet admiration.
Aurelia’s long, dark brown hair flowed down her back like a waterfall, its soft waves catching the light. Her hazel eyes gleamed with quiet strength, and the graceful way she moved spoke of both refinement and quiet power. The delicate silver necklace resting against her collarbone shimmered, completing her elegant look.
Charlotte often found herself comforted by Aurelia’s presence. She wasn’t just a maid—she was a steady guide, a voice of reason, and, sometimes, the closest thing to family Charlotte had left.
As they made their way toward the study, Charlotte’s thoughts drifted. She knew how lucky she was—receiving lessons from some of the best tutors in Tikka. Magic, politics, etiquette, diplomacy—every subject designed to shape her into the queen she was destined to become.
But after what she had seen that day in the city, the hunger, the injustice, and the raw pain in Zack’s voice... she wasn’t sure destiny alone would be enough.
MARKET PLACE
Guards patrolled the streets of Tikka, their eyes sharp, their formation tight. Word had spread: the princess was missing.
“Check everything. Don’t let anyone slip past,” one barked.
Then, near the edge of the market, they spotted a red-haired boy haggling with a trader, holding a handful of ornate jewelry.
“Hey, kid!” a guard shouted, marching over. “Where’d you get those? Those belong to the royal family!”
Zack’s heart skipped. “I didn’t steal them! They were given to me!”
But his voice was drowned out by accusations.
“Liar!” the guard hissed, drawing his sword. “You’ll pay for stealing from the princess!”
Without a second thought, Zack turned and ran. He weaved through alleys, ducking into shadows, until he reached the abandoned building. Breathing heavily, he thought he had escaped.
But the guards weren’t far behind.
Moments later, they questioned a man standing nearby. “Seen a boy—about this tall, red hair?”
The child hesitated, then pointed toward the old building.
The guards stormed inside.
Four children sat huddled in a corner—three boys and a sick girl coughing blood into a rag. Zack stepped out, startled. He thought he hadn’t been seen.
“Grab them!” a guard barked. “All of them!”
Chaos erupted. Zack tried to protect the others, but in the scuffle, one of the guards struck Sarah. She collapsed, gasping, her frail body twitching as blood seeped from her lips.
“No! Sarah!” Zack cried.
And then—something awakened.
A rush of heat surged through him. Flames erupted from his body, wild and uncontrollable. Eno. It had awakened at last. Fire—his birth element.
But he was outnumbered. The guards subdued him with brute force, beating him down until he was pinned.
Then came Animus.
He entered the room with a smug, cruel smile. “So you’re the little thief found with the princess’s jewelry.”
Zack blinked in confusion. Princess? His heart sank.
She set me up? She gave me the jewelry… just to turn it against me?
“princess” he whispered. “I had no idea she was the princess.”
Animus ignored him.
“You royals are monsters!” Zack shouted, trembling with fury. “You steal from the people! You let us suffer! You don’t care about the poor. You kill children just to prove your power!”
Tears streamed down his face as he looked at Sarah’s lifeless body. The other children were forced to their knees.
As the guard draw out their swords
“Please... stop this... don’t hurt them...” he pleaded, his voice cracking.
“Kill them,” Animus ordered coldly, turning away.
“No! Don’t—please! I’m begging you!” Zack screamed. “They didn’t do anything!”
But it was too late.
One by one, the children were slaughtered before his eyes.
He collapsed, paralyzed by grief, the screams still echoing in his ears.
A guard yanked him to his feet, forcing a rough sack over his head.
Everything went dark.
Charlotte's room
“I met a boy today—Zack,” Charlotte said, her eyes lighting up as she recounted the encounter to Aurelia, her personal maid. “He had nothing… and I gave him my jewelry. It felt right. Like I was finally doing something good.”
Aurelia’s heart warmed. She hadn’t seen the princess smile like this in years.
“So that’s where your jewelry went,” Aurelia murmured. But her expression quickly turned grave.
“Your Highness…” she said gently, “gifting royal jewelry might cause problems. If anyone sees him trying to sell it, they’ll think he stole it. The punishment for that is—”
Charlotte froze, her eyes wide with realization. “No…” she whispered.
She bolted from the room in panic—and collided with Animus in the hallway.
“My lady,” he said calmly, holding up the ornate trinkets. “Your stolen jewelry has been recovered. It seems you were robbed during your... unsanctioned outing. Another reason you should not leave the palace grounds.”
“No!” Charlotte shouted. “He didn’t steal them—I gave them to him! Please, release him!”
Animus remained composed. “You’re mistaken, Princess. The boy was caught in possession of royal artifacts. He was no prisoner. He and his companions were executed for theft.”
Aurelia gasped in horror as she accepted the jewelry from Animus’s outstretched hand.
Charlotte’s legs gave out beneath her. She crumpled to the floor, trembling, tears flooding her face.
“You… you killed children—over a gift?” she choked. “He was just a child…”
A theft , if I had left him,what would he grow up to become? " Excuse me my lady "
He entered the King’s chamber, the frail monarch sat hunched on his throne, coughing violently. His breath was shallow, his face pale.
“Animus… bring Charlotte,” he rasped.
Animus bowed stiffly. But as he turned to leave, a sinister whisper slithered into his ear:
“End his life. Claim the throne. Find the Book of Tova.”
Without reacting, he exited.
Charlotte was still weeping when he returned.
“Your Majesty,” Animus said, “as future Queen, you must understand the law. This tragedy could have been avoided had you stayed within the palace. The King has requested your presence.”
Charlotte wiped her tears and rose, her voice cold but resolute.
“Laws that allow children to be executed without trial are not justice,” she said. “If I remain locked away, blind to the suffering outside, how can I rule with truth or compassion?”
She brushed past him and entered the King’s chamber.
Minutes later, she emerged.
Her face was pale, her eyes dry. Her grief had hollowed her out.
“The King is dead.”
The news spread like wildfire across the continent. The throne of Tikka now rested solely on the shoulders of twelve-year-old Charlotte—the kingdom’s only heir.
The burden of a nation, and the blood of the innocent, weighed heavily on her heart.
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