Terra, Moon Island
Gaia Grand Castle, The Day of the Full Aquamarine Moon
Towering trees reach high into the sky, piercing the horizon, standing strong beneath the mesmerizing light of the moon. Today marks the aquamarine full moon, a time when the ocean is turbulent, raging with a fierce storm, signaling the dawn of significant change. Yet, the blue moon continues to shine beautifully, casting a soft glow amidst the encroaching darkness. Is this what beauty truly is, or merely an illusion? Fitran can only gaze at it, unable to truly feel its essence. Beneath all that allure lies a shadowy hue, ushering in doubt and uncertainty within him. He offers a bittersweet smile, contemplating the facade of gentleness that appears, but in his heart, he wonders if there is any softness concealed within?
Fitran stood in awe before the magnificent castle made of thousands of shimmering crystal tons, reflecting the moonlight with breathtaking charm. Its interior was beautifully simplistic yet filled with an unparalleled elegance, creating an atmosphere that seemed to defy time. Inside this castle, the king and queen of Iris lived in peace, surrounded by a long history full of twists and turns. In the center of the courtyard stood the Tree of Life, the iconic tree of Blue Earth, the root of all trees that live in this world. At first sight, Fitran felt a vibration of wonder mixed with fear; the tree seemed to hold both positive and negative energy, mirroring his own being. Gaia's castle stood silent under the trembling moon, as if nature itself knew that something irreversible was happening. The once hopeful crystal pillars now merely refracted shadows and silhouettes. Within its walls, sat the Queen.
Iris.
Her name means rainbow, yet tonight, her gaze is empty and colorless, as if the sky itself is ignoring her beauty. In the oppressive silence, she awaits someone who might change everything. Then the footsteps arrive, bringing the hope that has been buried deep in her heart.
The footsteps are calm and unhurried, indicating that their owner has long let go of any concern for life and death. Fitran emerges from the mist that envelops the palace corridor, towering like a forgotten shadow. His cloak carries the scent of earth and blood, an aroma that invites sadness and loss, but his eyes… his eyes still radiate a purity that chokes Iris. Not because of his allure, but because she knows:
Fitran has changed.
Yet at the same time, he has never changed.
"Fitran." Iris's voice was firm, though steady. She remained a queen, trying to maintain her dignity even as the world around her crumbled. However, her voice lacked life. Iris was simply… a human who had lost too much to shed another tear.
Fitran remained silent. He only reached out to place a roll of parchment on the cold glass table that separated them, a barrier symbolizing the tension between them. Inside it—new laws. Laws that were supposed to be just, yet born from dripping blood, cries of anguish, and the menacing fangs of a Smilodon. Laws that challenged morality and the very essence of humanity.
"I already told you," Iris said softly, her voice quavering yet resolute, "I cannot sign it… if your approach is like this."
"What's wrong with my approach?" Fitran inquired, his soft voice sharp like shards of glass. "Justice will not emerge from beautiful flowers. It grows upon the soil filled with corpses, and I am merely hastening that cycle."
"They are human, Fitran. Even if they are wrong, they are still human."
Fitran laughed. It was not a joyful laugh, nor was it a mocking one. It was a laugh from someone who had been trapped in darkness for far too long, weary of facing the inevitable reality.
"They're not human, Iris. They are a system. And that system has been consuming people like us since the beginning," he said bitterly, his voice echoing in the silence of the room and highlighting the tragedy of lifeless entities that govern human lives.
He walked slowly around the circular room, his steps echoing shadows of the past, replaying the scenario etched in his memory from last month's trial. But now, everything felt empty. There was no Smilodon growling, no screams shattering the stillness; only two hearts that recognized each other yet clashed in uncertainty.
"I know you want change. But this isn't the way, Fitran," Iris whispered, her voice trembling like a leaf blowing in the wind. For the first time, her hands shook, her grip on hope and fear merging into a single gesture.
Fitran stopped, sharpening his gaze upon her. He looked at her for a long time, as if trying to read every hidden vulnerability behind her half-closed eyes.
"I don't want change. I want eradication. I want a world where no one can ever refer to people like us as tools. I want a world where you don't have to cry alone on a throne that never loved you," he replied with determination, his voice piercing the silence like lightning in a dark sky.
Iris fell silent, her eyes vacant and empty. No tears awaited to flow; they had long since vanished, along with the names she had buried deep within her heart.
"I can't sign this law," she finally said, her voice trembling like leaves in the wind, reflecting her inner struggle between responsibility and humanity.
"But I won't stop you either."
Fitran approached slowly and cautiously, closing the distance between them to just a breath away. His cold hand touched Iris's cheek, offering a warmth that felt strangely foreign. The touch was neither desire nor affection; it was more like two memories brushing gently against each other before finally fading away.
"You haven't changed," Fitran said softly, his voice like a whisper in the night breeze. "Still too good for this rotten world."
Iris closed her eyes, trying to contain all the emotions stirring in her chest. "And you… are still too broken to save it alone," she replied, her voice filled with concern and evaporating hope.
That night, Fitran left without so much as a word, without the customary farewell. Yet, no guard dared to stop him.
And at the highest tower of the castle, Iris stood gazing into the dark night sky, as if searching for answers among the twinkling stars.
"I cannot cry," she whispered to the distant stars.
"But if I could… perhaps tonight would be the time."
Queen Chamber Gaia Grand Castle, filled with an ambiance of elegance and calming silence. The soft light from the candles illuminated the walls adorned with exquisite carvings, creating trembling shadows that danced across the cool marble floor.
That night, the atmosphere was steeped in a silence that understood each other, with not a single word of love spoken. Fitran gazed at Iris with a look of doubt, as if he could not believe in the warmth enveloping them yet longed for it all the same. Iris's hand touched his face, as if trying to mend the cracks of time that had come into their lives, even though she knew she too bore the same fractures.
As their cloaks fell away one by one, what was revealed was not desire, but wounds that invited them to be read, unraveling the story behind their silence. Their bodies moved in a slow rhythm, like an unwritten poem, or a gentle breeze attempting to caress the ocean without causing waves.
"My breath is your melody," Fitran whispered between kisses etched in memory, marking a moment of uncertainty. What they shared that night was not merely pleasure, but an acknowledgment of the loneliness that had gnawed at them for far too long; tonight, they wanted to forget all the battles that had come before—even those still being fought.
Iris wept in silence, her tears not flowing from her eyes but emerging from the pores of her trembling skin, while her fingers gripped Fitran's back as if to hold time still for just a moment. Meanwhile, he remained silent, holding Iris tighter than she hugged the world, knowing that this embrace was not a victory.
This was a pause; the only place where creatures like them could be human—if only for a night. No fire lit the room, only the soft glow of moonlight danced upon the cold marble floor, enveloping two bodies drawing closer not out of desire, but out of a pressing need.
Fitran sat at the edge of the royal bed, his body half wrapped in shadow, creating a mysterious contour that made him appear both more real and distant at the same time. Iris stood before him, resembling a silhouette of a goddess who had lost her heaven; her figure was graceful yet reflected a profound vulnerability. Neither of them spoke. On this night, words seemed insufficient; the silence spoke louder than any voice could.
Iris slowly removed her crown, each movement accompanied by an unexpressed weight. And when the crown touched the table with a soft clink, it was as if the world acknowledged: a queen could be a woman, and a judge could be a man, if only for one meaningful night.
Fitran's hand grazed her shoulder. Lightly. Unforced. Like someone afraid to touch a dream because it felt too real, too close to grasp. Their bodies then united, not like a blinding flash, but like rain falling quietly amidst a long drought, bringing new hope. Their movements were silent, yet not empty. Each touch was a conversation that could not be spoken: about subtle guilt, about submerged longing, and about a world too cruel to allow them honesty while still clothed.
In Iris's heart, Fitran discovered a fragile heartbeat, like a small bird yearning to fly while knowing the sky outside is filled with the noise of war. In Fitran's eyes, Iris found an empty space that had never been filled with the words of a queen, a void containing all the dreams long suppressed.
They held onto each other, their grasp stronger than a mere embrace, as if binding two souls separated by the outside world.
Because they knew, when morning arrived, everything would revert to the way it was: the noble and the rebel, the queen and the executioner, the memories and the inevitable mistakes.
"That night, in the darkness filled with twinkling stars, they touched each other not to possess, but to give meaning, a fleeting solace before the world cruelly reclaimed everything, hinting at a journey that would lead them into a harsher reality."
And when they finally lay down, their remaining breaths formed only gentle whispers. Iris rested her weary head against Fitran's chest, feeling his calm heartbeat. Fitran stared at the night sky with an empty gaze, as if waiting for that star-filled sky to fall, so he wouldn't have to wake from this brief, beautiful dream.
"Are we sinning?" Iris asked softly, her voice barely rising above the stillness of the night around them.
"Not tonight," Fitran replied gently, as if trying to soothe her deep-seated fears. "Tonight, we are just… human, free from all the terrifying roles and backgrounds."
The morning light began to creep in softly, seeping through the thin curtains that blocked the sunlight. It arrived quietly, merely touching—seemingly aware of the fragility of the atmosphere in this room, where every detail vibrated with the suffocating silence.
Fitran was already awake, gazing at the window with a vacant stare. However, his mind wandered far beyond, exploring the vast and wild sky outside. Beside him, Iris was still asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful. Her hand clutched Fitran's arm, as if she were a child afraid of being left alone in the dark of night.
For the first time, a sense of fear crept into Fitran. He was afraid to move, worried that if he distanced himself even slightly, all this beauty would vanish like morning dew swallowed by the sun, leaving only a bitter memory of a lost dream.
Yet, time never shows sympathy; it keeps flowing, indifferent to those who wish to escape the reality waiting just outside the door.
Iris slowly opened her eyes, her gaze devoid of a smile yet filled with an undeniable sincerity that she could not hide, even with the crown enhancing her charm.
"We have to go back," she said, her voice cracking like a dry leaf falling from a lifeless tree, hitting the ground with profound sorrow.
Fitran nodded, but his body remained still, as if time had frozen his steps. He allowed his fingers to softly caress Iris's hair, feeling each strand as if he wanted to remember its texture for the stretches of time to come when the world would separate them again.
"I know you won't stay," Iris whispered, her gentle voice almost drowned in the silence of the night.
"I know you can't leave either," Fitran replied, reaffirming the invisible bond between them.
They shared a small laugh, not because there was humor in the air, but because both understood the complexity of the love entwined in blood and fire, filled with risks and tension.
Iris slowly sat up, pulling the soft fabric to cover her body, yet there was one thing she could not hide: the determination that had begun to glimmer in her eyes, as if a spark of passion was igniting within her.
"I will enact that rule," she stated firmly, her voice flowing like whispering water, brimming with conviction.
Fitran turned, his gaze filled with disbelief.
"Are you serious?"
"If we only touch bodies, then let that night fade away. But if we also touch hope... then I do not want all of this to be in vain."
Fitran fell silent, the sharp silence filling the space between them. He slowly rose, his steps steady as he approached Iris, gazing at her like an artist trying to carve every detail of her face into his memory. Not as a queen who rules; not as a beloved lover. He wanted to remember Iris as the only person who made him believe that he still had a soul, that within this fragility, there lay hope for rebirth.
"Then," Fitran whispered, his soft voice like morning dew, "let's start the battle from the same side."
They did not kiss for goodbye since this was not an end. It was the beginning of two fractured hearts choosing to endure and fight together, even if it meant having to battle the world… and perhaps, one day, each other.