Jakinn looked up from his newish work desk in the royal castle of Algran—and there she was.
A stern-looking maid stood before him, her silver-colored hair braided neatly over her left shoulder. Her long, pointed ears rose sharply, giving her an air of elegance... and just a touch of intimidation.
"Darling," a voice called out from deeper within the chambers, half-laced with sleep, "when are you coming back to bed? Are you down there scribbling in that book of yours again?"
Jakinn coughed. "Rhyna, dear... I might have to go soon."
"Wait—what?" Rhyna's voice rose in alarm, followed by the soft slap of bare feet on polished floors. She burst out of the bedroom in nothing but her undergarments—and froze.
There, standing beside Jakinn, was a stunning elven woman, her silver hair shimmering under the lantern light. Her gaze was sharp, her posture straight, and her presence unmistakable.
"Oh. Kai, this is Rhyna—the Queen of Algran and ruler of the humans in this world," Jakinn said quickly, as if trying to head off disaster. "Rhyna, this is my lovely head maid, Kaizel. But I just call her Kai."
Rhyna bowed slightly, keeping her composure despite the moment's awkwardness.
It had been a few years since the day Jakinn rose to power and brought the world under his influence—and surprisingly, everything was improving. The dwarves, with Jakinn's help, had created something called "trains," a marvel that now connected distant lands. The demons had established formal houses to govern their territories, and the orcs had returned to the steppes, finding peace in their old traditions.
Yes, there were still occasional uprisings, small pockets of resistance or tribal skirmishes—but overall, the world was stabilizing.
Even trade had flourished. A grand route now connected the dwarves to the major races. The elves had initially refused to join, but in the end, they constructed a route close enough to participate—without admitting they wanted to. Now, humans could trade with everyone.
Rhyna had to admit—she had hated this demon at first. But then again, she had hated Ashur even more—and still did, to this day. But Jakinn? He was different. Powerful, certainly. But also... necessary. Perhaps even chosen. Not even the goddess protested his rise, and the World Tree of Sera had blessed him. He even had that strange fae spirit by his side—also named Sera.
A villain, maybe. A savior, definitely. Perhaps he was both.
As Rhyna watched him now, she noticed something strange: Jakinn was making a nervous face, one eye twitching as if expecting the maid to smack him.
She giggled softly.
"I guess... even Jakinn is scared of something."
Jakinn coughed again, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "I—I gotta go, Rhyna, or else Kai's gonna get mad at me again."
Kai raised her hand with a graceful motion, fingers glowing faintly with magic as a shimmering oval of light opened midair—a portal, smooth-edged and steady, swirling with a soft, celestial glow. The air around it hummed with arcane energy, sending ripples through the fine curtains and tugging lightly at Rhyna's hair.
Jakinn, still silent, snapped his book shut with a soft thud. With a flick of his finger, a thin, precise rift opened beside him, almost like he were slicing the very fabric of reality. He slipped the book inside—his own private storage in a pocket dimension—and sealed it with a sharp gesture. The air knit itself closed without a trace.
Then, without a glance back, he stepped into Kai's portal, vanishing into the other side like a shadow swallowed by light.
Kai remained behind, her gaze lingering not on the portal, but on Rhyna.
Her expression was unreadable—stern, but not cold. There was something ancient in her eyes. Something that had seen more than anyone should.
"Queen of the humans," Kai said, her voice clear and low, "I apologize for the mess my master has made here."
She took a slow step forward, her long silver braid swaying gently across her shoulder.
"But everything he has done... every war, every bargain, every boundary broken... it was to restore balance to this world. Chaos had ruled for too long. Jakinn simply did what had to be done."
Rhyna's breath caught slightly. She didn't speak—couldn't. The room felt heavier with every word Kai said, like her presence alone pushed down on the air.
Kai reached into a small silver pouch at her hip and drew out a glowing stone. It was translucent, almost like crystal, with a gentle swirl of light pulsing at its core—alive with energy.
"If you ever wish to see him again," she said, "this stone will take you to his castle. And bring you back to this very room if you choose."
She placed it gently on the nearest table, the faint click of it touching wood unnaturally loud in the silence that followed.
"It's bound to your magical essence," Kai continued. "Only you can use it. No one else—not even I—can activate it in your place."
Then, her tone shifted, softer now, touched with something that might have been pity—or perhaps just realism.
"But I must warn you... he is never home. Always moving. Always chasing something just beyond reach. A man like that belongs to the world, not to a single person. If I were you..." She paused. "I would do my best to forget him."
Rhyna's chest tightened. The weight of years, of politics, of wars fought and choices made, all seemed to press into her bones. She hadn't asked for this connection with Jakinn—hadn't expected to care—but somehow, she did. And that made it hurt more.
Kai bowed, precise and deep. "Goodbye, Your Majesty."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and stepped through the portal. The light around it dimmed immediately, then shimmered once like a star fading into the night—before vanishing completely.
And then, silence.
The room was still. The portal gone. The scent of faint ozone—the aftereffect of powerful magic—lingered in the air.
Rhyna's eyes drifted to the stone on the table. It glowed gently, beckoning.
She didn't move.
Not yet...
----------
"Mother. Mother!" Rhy's voice rang through the quiet chamber, firm but gentle. "How long has it been since that day? And you're still sitting here... staring at that stone."
Rhyna blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. The crystal lay before her on the table, glowing softly as it always had—untouched for years, yet never forgotten.
"If you really miss him," Rhy continued, stepping closer, her voice softening, "you should go. I can take over the kingdom. I'm ready."
Rhyna looked up, eyes narrowing with a quiet sadness.
"You've groomed me for ten years, haven't you?" Rhy gave a small smile. "And with my sisters helping, there'll be no trouble. You don't need to stay just for us anymore."
Rhyna's lips trembled as she exhaled. "Oh, Rhy…"
No, Jakinn had never fathered any children. Not in the traditional sense. But these six girls—each from a race once at war—had been his idea. He had looked at the devastation left behind after the battles and said:
"Would it not be beautiful to raise one from each major race? Let them grow up together, learn to understand each other. Show the world that humans can change too."
And so she had.
Rhy, her first—human, bright-eyed, and determined. Twenty-one now, taken in when she was just six.Jaclyn, the demon girl with sharp wit and an even sharper blade.Tinka, the stubborn dwarf, who could build anything from scrap.Snips, their quick-thinking goblin, always tinkering with contraptions.Loka, the strong and steady orc girl with a protective heart.And Liva, the quiet elf—older by years, yes, but still maturing slowly. She acted like a teenager most days, and the household had long learned to live with her endless questions and slow, deliberate thought.
Rhyna gave a soft chuckle. "Oh, Rhy, I was just… thinking. I'm getting too old. What would he even see in an old lady like me?"
Rhy gave her a pointed look. "Mother, age is just a number. Look at Liva—she's thirty-five and still acts like she's fifteen."
That made Rhyna laugh out loud. A warm, genuine laugh that echoed off the stone walls and seemed to ease the air around them.
"Yes... that's true," she said, wiping the corner of her eye. "It's been twenty years. I'm sad you girls never got to meet him. You only know the stories—the terrifying ones. The war, the power, the battles."
Rhy knelt beside her, placing a hand over Rhyna's. "But not the kindness, right?"
Rhyna nodded slowly. "Not his kindness. Not his quiet mornings, the way he would fix broken things when no one was watching. The way he believed... not just in changing the world, but in healing it."
She looked back at the glowing stone.
Rhyna looked at Rhy, a gentle, wistful smile curving her lips. The kind of smile that held both warmth and sorrow, like sunlight breaking through the last clouds of a storm.
"Call your sisters," she said softly, placing the stone down gently on the velvet cloth it had rested on for years. "This may be the last time we're all together. I think… it's finally time."
Rhy didn't waste a second. She nodded and turned on her heel, her voice echoing through the castle halls. "Tinka! Jaclyn! Snips! Loka! Liva! Come quickly—now!"
They came running.
None of them asked why. They already knew. Everyone in the household had felt it—like the tension before a summer storm. Rhyna had been quieter lately, more thoughtful. Lingering longer at windows. Staring at the stone like it was a door she wasn't sure she had the courage to open.
Liva was the first to arrive, as if her elven instincts had already told her this moment was near. Her long golden hair flowed behind her as she burst into the chamber—still in her scholar's robe, tears already running down her face.
"Mama!" she cried, rushing into Rhyna's arms and wrapping her in a tight embrace. "Don't go! Or—no, I mean, go! But come back! Promise me you'll come back!"
Rhyna laughed softly, stroking Liva's hair. "You're still the most dramatic of them all."
"You're the one leaving!" Liva sniffled. "You can't blame me for crying."
The others followed soon after, arriving one by one.
Jaclyn entered with her usual calm, though her red eyes shimmered slightly. "Well," she said, forcing a smirk, "about time. He's probably waiting in some dusty tower wondering if you forgot him."
Tinka was next, arms crossed, cheeks flushed, though whether from emotion or running through the castle wasn't clear. "You better make him apologize for not visiting," she grumbled. "We've been feeding his damn birds all these years."
Snips practically tumbled in, a tangle of tools and robes, wiping her hands on a grease-stained cloth. "Are we crying? Are we fighting? What's happening? Wait, she's going? Right now?" Her eyes widened, then softened. "Well… I'll miss you. I'll even finish that mechanical lute you liked."
Loka stood silently near the door, then stepped forward with a nod. "We'll watch over the realm, Mother. No matter how long you're gone. It'll be safe."
Rhyna turned to face them all, heart full to the brim. Her daughters. Not by blood, but by choice—and by love. Each one a different race. Each one a reflection of the future Jakinn had once spoken of could be.
She opened her arms, and they all came in close, surrounding her in a warm, tearful, laughing, stubborn group hug.
"I'll miss all of you," Rhyna said, her voice thick with emotion. "But this world belongs to you now. I've done my part. Now… it's time to see if he still remembers me."
She reached for the stone.
The runes shimmered brighter as her fingers closed around it—recognizing her touch after all these years. Magic coiled in the air, thick and humming like thunderclouds.
"Wherever he is," she whispered, "I'm coming."
And with that, light bloomed around her—and the queen of Algran vanished, leaving behind a kingdom in good hands… and a legacy carried by six daughters who would change the world in their own way.
Rhyna opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the strange light around her. The air was still, but thick with ancient magic. She looked around, breath caught in her throat.
She stood in a hall—a throne room, though calling it that felt almost insulting to what lay before her. It was vast, grand beyond measure, with marble floors that shimmered like water and pillars so tall they vanished into clouds of golden mist. Her old throne room in Algran now felt like a cozy bedchamber in comparison.
"Welcome, Lady Rhyna," came a soft voice, echoing through the silence like a breeze through silk.
Rhyna turned slowly—not with the swiftness of her younger years, but with the grace of a woman who had lived and endured much. Standing there, near the entrance of the great hall, was her. The same elf-maid from all those years ago. Silver hair braided perfectly over one shoulder, long ears pointing elegantly upward, and that ever-serene expression that somehow made even Jakinn look uneasy.
Rhyna took a steady breath. "Greetings, Kai."
"Oh, you do remember me." Kai smiled faintly, her eyes dancing with subtle amusement. "Jakinn is not here at the moment. He hasn't been for some years now."
Rhyna's heart sank, but Kai continued before she could speak.
"But he'll be back soon. Otherwise, I'll have to go fetch him again, and then... well." She paused, tapping her lip with a finger and smirking. "Never mind that."
She turned and gestured with a graceful sweep of her arm. "I've made some tea. I thought it was about time you would come. You've aged, yes—but you're still quite beautiful, Lady Rhyna."
Rhyna gave her a small, sad smile. She had hoped—perhaps foolishly—to see Jakinn standing there, waiting. But instead, she nodded and followed the elegant maid through the vast hall, her steps echoing across marble and stardust.
The tea setting was laid out beneath a flowering tree that grew through the marble floor itself, glowing softly with divine light. The cups were crystal, the teapot etched with runes older than any language she knew.
Kai poured the tea with practiced elegance. "You are now in the realm of the gods," she said, her voice calm, almost melodic. "No mortal may stay here without divinity, or they will perish. But don't worry—this is Jakinn's castle. He governs everything that happens here. You will not die."
Rhyna looked at her, surprised.
Kai smiled again, more fondly this time. "Before he left, he gave me this tea set. Told me to brew it at the right moment. Handed it over with that smug smirk of his and disappeared—just like that."
She sighed and shook her head. "Gosh… what a troublesome master I have."
Rhyna chuckled softly, warmth returning to her chest. She reached for the tea and took a sip.
It tasted like memory—and something new.
As Rhyna enjoyed the tea Kai had prepared, her gaze wandered across the grand hall. Quietly, efficiently, others moved about—maids and butlers, each one bearing the same silver-colored hair braided in graceful patterns. Their long, pointed ears and delicate features marked them as elves. But there was something more—something serene in the way they carried themselves.
She watched them as they worked, dusting ancient artifacts, adjusting glowing lanterns, and laying out silken fabrics with practiced care. Despite the scale of the room, there was no rush or clamor—only a gentle rhythm, like moonlight flowing through stone.
"They're from my world," Kai said suddenly, her voice pulling Rhyna back from her thoughts. A small, knowing smile touched her lips. "They are of my people. Moon Elves."
"Moon Elves…" Rhyna murmured, eyes following one of the butlers as he glided past with a tray of glowing crystal glasses. "They live here?"
Kai nodded, her expression calm. "Yes, but only in this castle. This is the only place in the divine realm where mortals may dwell without risk. Every one of them is still mortal—just like you once were."
Rhyna scoffed gently, raising a brow. "Once were? What do you mean by that? I've only been here for, what, fifteen minutes?"
Kai's smile grew, a glimmer of mischief in her silver eyes. "Yes. And in that time, you drank the tea."
Rhyna blinked, her hand tightening slightly around the delicate cup. "What are you saying?"
"That tea," Kai said, stepping closer and lowering her voice like a conspirator sharing a treasured secret, "was a gift from Jakinn. Infused with a divine blessing. The moment you drank it, your soul was bound to this realm. You're no longer mortal, Rhyna—not quite divine either, but something… in-between. Safe. Eternal."
Rhyna stared down at the tea, now halfway gone, and let out a quiet breath. "He did this… without even being here?"
Kai chuckled, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "He planned for everything, as always. Before he left, he handed me the tea set and said, 'When she arrives, give her this. She deserves peace.' Then he smirked—that smirk—and vanished like the drama king he is."
Rhyna couldn't help but laugh softly, a hand over her mouth. "That man never does anything the normal way."
Kai smiled fondly. "No. He never does."