Chapter 4: Legacy of the Black Crescent
"Is that…?!" the King began, his deep voice—just moments ago as calm as the forest—now trembling slightly from the shock, his gaze locked on Ren's ears. The Queen, seated beside him, completed the sentence in a soft yet clearly audible voice, laced with unmistakable astonishment: "The royal earrings! Of the Dark Angel clan? Then… that means you're of royal blood!"
The words echoed through the vast hall, immediately followed by a wave of gasps and murmured whispers from the elven nobles and palace guards. Princess Elena's eyes widened as she glanced between her stunned parents and the utterly confused Ren. Even the loyal guard, who was still in a semi-defensive stance, loosened her grip on the bow slightly, her expression a blend of disbelief and rising concern.
Ren could feel every eye in the room focused on him, but they no longer stared at his wings or his dark halo—instead, their attention was fixed on his ears. Slowly, he raised his hand and touched the cold metal of the crescent-shaped black earrings. He hadn't paid much attention to them amidst all the chaos—just another part of his strange new appearance. But now, the Queen's words had given them immense weight.
"Royal blood? Me?" the thought echoed in his mind, his confusion spiraling. Him? Ren Alastair? A boy who had once lived in a ragged tent, struggling daily just to eat? Royal? The idea was so absurd, so surreal, he nearly laughed—if not for the gravity of the moment. Could this be the reason behind his strange awakening? Had he inherited this form through some ancient bloodline? Or was it just another strange twist in an already impossible journey?
A flash of his sister, Elene, crossed his mind. He imagined her reaction if she heard this. She would've chuckled softly, then grounded him with a teasing comment, reminding him of reality.
The King and Queen swiftly regained their composure, though the shock lingered in their wise eyes. The Queen spoke, her voice calmer now, though laced with seriousness: "These earrings, boy, are no ordinary trinkets. They are the Ashen Crescent—the sacred emblem of the 'Grey Moon' royal family, rulers of the Dark Angel clan. Only those of direct lineage were ever permitted to wear them. They vanished along with the last known rulers centuries ago."
The King took over, his piercing gaze seeming to look straight into Ren's soul. "For them to appear now—on you—and for you to claim memory loss... it's difficult to accept. Either your amnesia is a tragic truth, or it is a veil hiding something far more deliberate." He paused briefly, then asked directly, "Do you recall anything about these earrings? A feeling? A vision? A whisper in your mind when you touch them?"
Ren tried to focus. He touched the earrings again and closed his eyes. Nothing. Just the smooth cold of the strange metal, and the same suffocating void in his memory. He opened his eyes and shook his head slowly. "No… I don't remember anything. It's like my life began at the edge of that cliff."
The King exhaled quietly. "The relationship between the Kingdom of Elore and the Grey Moon Clan was always… complicated. Ancient wars gave way to a long, fragile peace... until their rulers vanished, leaving the clans scattered and withdrawn. The sudden appearance of a potential heir—especially under such mysterious circumstances—could shift the balance of power across this world… or reignite old conflicts."
Silence fell once more as everyone absorbed the gravity of the situation. Elena looked at Ren with a new expression—no longer mere curiosity, but deep concern and a sense of wonder. He was no longer just a mysterious Dark Angel. He might be the long-lost prince of a powerful and feared bloodline.
At last, the King made his decision. He spoke with an official tone that left no room for argument: "We cannot allow you to leave freely. Whether or not you are who these earrings suggest, and whether or not your amnesia is real, your presence here demands caution and investigation." He turned to his daughter. "Elena, 'Ren Alastair' shall remain a guest of the palace under your direct supervision. Provide him shelter and what he needs, but…" he paused, turning back to Ren, "you will be under close observation. We expect your full cooperation, our guest." The emphasis on guest carried a clear warning.
Elena nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of the responsibility placed on her. The King motioned for two guards to step forward.
"Escort our guest to the western wing. Elena will join you shortly to arrange his quarters."
The guards moved silently, gesturing for Ren to follow. It all felt like a surreal dream as he left the throne room behind—trailing murmurs, curious stares, and unspoken suspicions. They walked through luxurious corridors made of polished wood and glimmering crystal—beautiful, yet cold and unfamiliar. Ren felt like a prisoner in a golden cage.
Eventually, they reached a spacious room furnished with fine décor and a balcony overlooking the serene palace gardens. The guards gestured for him to enter, then closed the door behind him. He heard the faint click of a lock. Not free.
Ren stood alone in the center of the elegant chamber. He moved toward a large, ornate mirror on the wall and looked at his reflection: the boy with snow-white hair, pale gray skin, a dark halo floating above his head, massive black wings folded behind him—and now, those shining black crescent earrings in his ears. Who was he really? A lost prince of darkness? Or just an orphan from another world trapped in an unfamiliar body and a fate not his own?
He touched the earrings once more. They felt heavier now—not just physically, but with the weight of legacy and the dangerous expectations now laid upon him. The Legacy of the Black Crescent… it had become his new title, his possible link to the past, and the source of looming threats in both present and future. He closed his eyes, feeling more lost than ever—but now also driven by a fragile thread of something else: determination.
He would uncover the truth. No matter the cost.