Dusk slowly descended over the Lux Kingdom, painting the horizon a soft orange and golden hue. Ren stood amidst the pillars of the western garden, wearing the waiter uniform he had personally ironed earlier that morning. His hair was neat, his scent neutral with a light touch of herbs from the medicine kitchen. he knew that today was an important day—not for the world, but for him. It was time to touch the knots of prophecy: the four women who were considered the "official companions" of the Heroes of Light.
They stood in different places but within sight of each other, each exuding a distinctive aura—almost like guardian spirits of the four elements. Alicia, the Knight Princess, stood proudly near Hiro, cleaning her Lumenheart sword while occasionally flashing a stern smile at the crowd of maids. Her face was stern but fair. Her blond hair glowed in the twilight. Ren stepped closer with a basket of honey buns and a small jug of wine.
"Your Highness," he greeted politely, bowing slightly, "these honey buns have just come out of the western kitchen. The chef said their sweetness can help restore energy after training."
Alicia turned, slightly surprised. "Ren, huh? That waiter from the library?"
"Yes, Princess," Ren replied, serving the bread on a simple wooden plate. Hiro greeted him first, with a big laugh and a friendly attitude. But Ren didn't come for Hiro.
As Hiro took a bite of the bread and busily praised its sweetness, Ren bent down closer to Alicia and whispered, "Your Highness's hands are a little sore. Perhaps Arnica ointment will help tonight." His gaze flicked to Alicia's wrists, red and bruised from the hard work.
Alicia looked surprised, then smiled briefly. "You… notice the little things, huh." Her tone changed. There was something in her eyes—either admiration, or pity. It didn't matter. Ren accepted both.
He walked away before Hiro could engage him in further conversation, heading to the side of the garden where Selene sat quietly on a stone bench. The Grand Sorceress had a large grimoire open on her lap, her dark purple robes emitting a chill. Akira stood nearby, studying the magic chart floating in the air.
Ren paused a few steps, then raised a small glass of warm, cinnamon-scented wine.
"Lady Selene," he said softly, "this is spiced wine from the northern vault. The cinnamon is from Greenveil—it's said to aid recovery after magical rites."
Selene closed her book, looking at Ren with a calculating expression. She accepted the glass wordlessly, taking a slow sip. Her breathing seemed to ease slightly.
"You're a servant," she said matter-of-factly, "but you know so many unusual things."
Ren replied with a neutral smile. "I just want to help. This new world is… beautiful, and I want to contribute in any way I can." He stepped back slowly, but not before saying quietly, "My lady will be sent to Greenveil next week. It'll be easier if the scent is familiar when you arrive."
Selene didn't reply, but Ren caught sight of her fingers tapping lightly on the glass—a small movement as her mind was drawn to something. That was enough.
After making sure he hadn't caught Akira's attention, Ren moved toward the small chapel on the east side of the garden. Through the open door, he saw Maria washing the bruise on Daiki's shoulder while attaching a healing rune. Maria's face was soft like milk candy, and her every movement was full of love. Ren knocked softly, carrying a small jug of rose water.
"Sorry to interrupt, Sister Maria. This is holy rose water to cleanse the remaining runes."
Maria turned, her smile wide. "Ren! Oh, thank you. I almost ran out!"
Daiki nodded casually, apparently not finding Ren's presence strange. Ren handed the jug over slowly, letting his fingers brush Maria's hand for a second longer than they should have. The brief touch was like a small spark of electricity between them.
"If there's anything I can do for you… just call," he said lowly, bowing respectfully. Maria looked like she wanted to say something, but only nodded nervously. Ren left the chapel with light steps. The scent of roses still lingered on his palms.
As night fell, Ren climbed the wooden steps to the platform where Eiryn and Rei stood facing the sky. Eiryn stood near the railing, the night breeze making her green hair dance softly. She was calling out to the wind spirit, her lips moving almost soundlessly. The starlight reflected in her emerald eyes.
Ren stopped three paces away from her, keeping a polite distance. He lit a small candle made of resin, then placed it on the ground.
"For the spirits of the night," he said softly. "The scent can help them stay longer."
Eiryn turned, slowly. Her gaze was not suspicious… but curious. "You are human, yet you understand the voice of the trees. Not many can do that."
Ren bowed respectfully. "I only listen with my heart." As he spoke, the night wind blew his robes. Eiryn didn't move away, nor did she come closer—but her pointed ears changed color, blushing faintly. That was more than enough.
A few minutes later, Ren returned to the servants' quarters. His steps were slow, but his heart was beating softly, satisfied. He had planted seeds in four different soils—and all of them were beginning to sprout. But the night wasn't over yet.
He was about to enter his room when hurried footsteps stopped him.
"Ren" called a soft voice.
Maria stood at the end of the hall, cradling a small rosary. Her breath was a little labored. "Have you eaten? I… I can bring you some soup."
Before Ren could answer, Alicia appeared from another direction, carrying something in her hand.
"This is… Arnica ointment. I don't really like the smell. Take it."
A few seconds later, a purple shadow emerged from behind a stone pillar—Selene, carrying a small pouch.
"You said cinnamon from Greenveil. I wanted to check its quality. You may keep it for now."
The three of them had appeared without an appointment, without knowing each other. And as they all looked at each other, there was silence. None of them said the real reason. But Ren knew. And more importantly: they knew.
On the highest balcony, Eiryn stood alone. But as Ren looked up, he saw a rosin candle burning brightly. The elf raised her hand, a gentle gesture of greeting. The wind blew wildflowers toward her—a silent greeting that needed no words.
Ren smiled faintly, then went into his room, unfolded a sheet of parchment, and scribbled four dots in red ink. The four threads now coiled perfectly around a single name in the center: Ren.
In the candlelight, he held small dream crystals—each filled with fine fragments: strands of hair, drops of oil, dust of rosin wax, and shards of healing runes. He cast a spell that whispered into their dreams, touching the deepest parts of their souls, planting a presence… himself.
Tomorrow, the four heroines would wake up with an inexplicable feeling. A desire to see him again. A need to hear his voice. A strange yet deep sense of comfort.
Ren closed his eyes, letting the power of the spell work.
And in the tower room, on a luxurious bed decorated with knight emblems, Alicia woke up with a hot body and short breaths. On her cheek she still felt a touch—not rough, but thrilling. Behind her eyes blurred by sleep, a vague face appeared. A gentle smile. Warm eyes. Not Hiro. Not any hero.
Only one name whispered faintly by her heart:
"Ren…"