Seiyad awakened the year he turned fourteen. As was the long-standing rule in the North, the Brosius family—foremost among all the Tithers in the kingdom—was fated to inherit the most powerful force. And so, his awakening had been long awaited by many. His mother would whisper stories of the stars visiting him every night, and the royal court would periodically inquire about his condition. Though it was a time of nuisance and nerves, it was also a peaceful one.
The catalyst for his awakening was his younger sister. Cecilia, four years his junior, was like a duckling that trailed after him wherever he went. If he ever left her behind, she would bawl non-stop until he returned—she was an adorably clingy little thing.
It was a bright summer day when it happened, on their way back from playing in the lake near the fortress—a trip made without their parents’ permission. They encountered a stray wolf. The beast, having come down from the Forest of Night, had lost all reason and knew no fear. Facing it alone would’ve been easier, but protecting Cecilia while swinging a sword turned out to be far more difficult than expected.
He didn’t remember the exact moment the star visited him, but Seiyad clearly recalled the sensation of a mysterious energy flooding into his body in response to his desperate wish. That energy became a wave that allowed him to command his power—it was his awakening.
Because it had followed such a dangerous event, Seiyad was scolded before he was congratulated. His younger sister had been in peril, and the responsibility fell squarely on him as her older brother. Still, it was a moment of celebration. Seiyad was finally recognized as a Tither and would meet the royal Guide he’d only heard about in stories.
The date of his palace entry was swiftly decided. A Tither who had awakened his powers had to perform a purification ritual, during which he would meet a member of the royal family destined to serve as his Guide. No one could know who that Guide would be until they met—the one who would absorb and stabilize the Tither’s wave.
For any child born into a house bearing Tither blood, tales of Guides were a part of growing up. Though a Tither and their Guide could never marry—an ironclad rule to preserve the power balance between the royal family and Tithers—the bond they shared remained a favorite subject of fairy tales.
He met Ressas on the night of the ritual. That afternoon, Seiyad had been introduced to every member of the royal family. From Aster, the Crown Prince and first in line to the throne, to the king’s nephews and cousins, all had gathered there. Even Queen Leana and her newborn, Prince Lyley, had been present.
A banquet followed. While the adults held their feast in the grand hall of the royal castle, the children roamed the palace under the care of their attendants. Aster, older than Seiyad, remained with the adults to fulfill his duties as Crown Prince.
Before long, Seiyad grew tired of the noisy little ones. Though he was used to looking after younger children, ever since his awakening, loud sounds had become harder to bear. His heightened senses translated noise into pounding headaches. Eventually, he told the attendant he was going to find his Guide and slipped away, walking alone through the palace.
Near the garden, he found a child hiding, silently watching the banquet from afar. Assuming it was one of the king’s nephews who had wandered off, Seiyad initially intended to pass by. But something about the child’s forlorn back made him pause—it clung to his mind in an odd, persistent way. In the end, Seiyad muted his presence and quietly approached from behind.
The child had been staring at the banquet so longingly that he didn’t even notice Seiyad standing right behind him. The slender nape of his neck, the small hands clutching the pillar—they were porcelain white, doll-like. Unlike Seiyad’s own pallor, which leaned toward sickly, this child was soft and white like cotton.
“What are you doing?”
The child flinched at the question tossed over his shoulder, shoulders jerking up in surprise. As he spun around, his eyes went wide like a startled rabbit. Long black lashes curled upward, revealing iridescent violet eyes that shimmered with a strange light.
“I-I’m sorry.”
Instead of asking who Seiyad was, the child apologized first. As if he’d committed some grave sin—like he was somewhere he absolutely shouldn’t be.
“Why?”
Judging from his unmarred hands and pale skin, he was clearly a noble. Any child in the palace would be. The only odd thing was that his clothes were incredibly worn and frayed. Though the fabric had once been expensive, it now looked old. The fit was poor, with sleeves and pant legs too short, leaving his wrists and ankles exposed in a laughable manner.
“I came to a place I was told not to…”
The boy seemed awkward about speaking to someone, barely meeting Seiyad’s gaze. His eyes flitted up and down, and his voice was barely a whisper.
“I see.”
Seiyad acknowledged the mysterious boy’s answer. It was true—this was no place for a mere noble’s child. The event today was exclusive, a gathering only for invited Tithers and members of the royal family.
At Seiyad’s agreement, the child hung his head. Watching the small hands fidgeting against his trembling form, Seiyad decided to return the child to his parents.
“Then shall we go back now? Where are your parents?”
At that, the boy bit his lip. His long lashes quivered with unease, and he glanced toward the banquet hall.
“They’re in there.”
“In the banquet hall?”
“Yes.”
The boy didn’t seem to be lying. But what didn’t make sense was that Seiyad hadn’t seen anyone at the banquet with a child like this.
“What’s your name?”
He asked, hoping the surname would give him a clue to the boy’s identity. But the child closed his mouth. His large violet eyes brimmed with grief and resentment. Though he looked as if he might burst into tears, he managed to hold them back and replied in a tiny, fading voice.
“…Ressas.”
Ressas. Seiyad softly repeated the name. It meant the brightest moon of the year—and it had a beautiful ring to it.
“That’s a pretty name. But I need your family name to help find your parents.”
At those words, Ressas fell silent for a long time. With his head lowered, he kept his eyes fixed on Seiyad’s feet. Seiyad waited without a word. The screech of cicadas filled the garden noisily. A soft night breeze carried the scent of grass and tickled their cheeks.
Only after a long wait did Seiyad finally hear the boy’s surname. Lifting his head just barely, Ressas glanced up with a fearful expression and whispered cautiously, watching Seiyad’s reaction.
“Ressas… Raman Solias.”
Raman Solias.
Seiyad didn’t need an explanation to understand who the child was. The unnamed second son of the king. The firstborn of the new queen, a distant branch of the powerful Shildras line—one of the strongest Tithers. Before his birth, great hopes had surrounded the child. The king and queen had high expectations, wondering how powerful a Guide might be born from the blend of faint Tither blood and royal lineage.
But the child who was born held not a trace of royal presence. The only praise he ever received was for his beautiful appearance.
Seiyad had heard of the second prince from his parents as well. While there had been princes with weak Guiding power in the kingdom’s history, none had been completely devoid of it like this one.
When Seiyad went quiet, Ressas clasped his trembling hands as if he’d expected the silence. Even so, he couldn’t take his eyes off Seiyad. His violet eyes, filled with desperate yearning, mirrored the night sky above them.
Ressas was a strange child.
Every child Seiyad had seen before—like Cecilia—cried or threw tantrums. They were honest with their emotions, and none of them ever looked this pitiful. Yes, that was it. Pitiful. A prince of the realm, yet isolated and alone, watching the banquet as if gazing at a distant world. That small, unimpressive frame. The neglected clothes.
What he felt at first was pity.
Like tending to an injured dog on the street, Seiyad instinctively saw Ressas as something like that. Though a prince, Ressas looked utterly empty—lonely and wretched.
“Then let’s go to where you’re staying.”
Seiyad extended his hand. Just as one might pick up a wounded creature or help someone in trouble, he offered Ressas a gesture born of simple, momentary kindness.
Ressas blinked and stared intently at Seiyad’s hand. As if unable to comprehend what was happening, his gaze flicked back and forth between Seiyad and the offered hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he mustered up his courage and reached out—but couldn’t quite grab it all at once. His fingers hovered, flinching close but never quite touching, over and over again.
As he had before, Seiyad waited. Patiently enduring the idle stretch of time until Ressas chose of his own will to take his hand.
At last, only after confirming that Seiyad wouldn’t disappear, Ressas finally grasped his fingers. A blush crept across the white of his cheeks as he held the older boy’s large, steady hand. With a face bright as if he’d just received a gift, Ressas looked up at him.
“Can I… ask your name?”
A soft light sparkled in his violet eyes. That night, a stream of stars shimmered white across the sky. It looked as though the Milky Way had poured itself into Ressas’s gaze.
“Eid.”
Through Ressas, Seiyad learned that even something so small could bring someone such immense joy.
