The night deepened, heavy and still, and though Ania's small body begged for rest, her spirit clung to the moment. She stayed awake, firm in her resolve, her presence the only bridge between the past and those still chasing its shadow. The room was dim, the only light coming from the antique fixtures and the faint, unnatural glow that pulsed softly from the painting behind her.
She had just finished speaking for Yureiv.
"She wants peace," Ania murmured, eyes locked with the silhouette behind the canvas. "But he… he can't rest until the truth is complete."
Nicholson stepped forward, cautious. "There's more, isn't there?"
Ania nodded, solemn. "He wants to show you everything. Not just Nimpha's end… but what happened after. What Uldeir did. How the royal history was rewritten."
Yureiv's shadow pressed more distinctly against the painted window in the background, no longer just a figure in a forgotten detail, but someone alive within the art. He was listening, feeling, waiting.
Ania turned to Sofie. "He says… the paintings are keys. All of them with his initials, Y.L., they each hold memories. The story's scattered across them."
Nicholson's eyes lit with realization. "Then we gather them. Study them. They may be the only accurate account left."
But Ania shook her head.
"He says… no. You can't just look at them. You have to feel them. His power doesn't work like books. The memories aren't just images, they're feelings. Pain, joy, love, despair… the closer your heart gets to the truth, the clearer the visions become."
The room went still again.
"He wants your help. All of you," Ania said, turning to Slacovich and the others. "But he's asking for something more. A promise."
Her eyes flickered to the painting. Yureiv's voice carried through her, low and clear.
"Don't let the truth be buried again."
And just like that, the temperature dropped. The air around the painting shimmered faintly, as if it were holding its breath too.
Sofie looked at Ania, then the others. "Then we do this right. No more secrets."
Diego gave a firm nod. Tyler leaned forward, eager. Harry muttered, "It's about time someone cracked this." And Li, ever composed, stared at the painting with a look no one could read, but her hand subtly curled into a fist.
Nicholson spoke last. "I'll secure every painting. We'll bring them here one by one."
Ania stepped back from the frame, her voice returning to normal. "He's… tired. But he's smiling."
The room fell silent after the last memory faded. Everyone was still, the weight of what they just saw hanging heavy in the air. Then, Sofie noticed something, Ania's small body was burning up with fever, her skin flushed and her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
"It's not just a conversation," Sofie said quietly, worry sharpening her voice. "Yureiv… he was using something deeper, something powerful. Ania's not just hearing him, she's feeling him."
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the room, clear and new. It wasn't coming from Ania, but from the painting itself.
"I never thought I'd speak like this," the voice said, tinged with surprise. "How is this possible?"
Everyone jumped, turning toward the painting. The faint silhouette of Yureiv's figure shimmered into sharper focus inside the frame.
Sofie exchanged a glance with the others. "Yureiv?"
"It's me," the voice continued, "and this connection… this link with Ania, somehow, it opened a path for me. I can speak freely now. Without her bridging the gap."
Yureiv's silhouette looked pensive, almost puzzled. "But this power, it takes a toll. I never imagined it would affect her like this."
Ania, weak but determined, looked up with tired eyes. "It's okay," she whispered. "I want to help."
The room held its breath, realizing the link wasn't just accidental, it was the start of something none of them fully understood.
Yureiv's voice softened, almost awed. "This connection… it wasn't just chance. There's something in Ania, something rare, something I didn't fully understand until now, that made this possible. It's like her very soul reached out to mine, unlocking this path."
Sofie frowned, thinking hard. "You mean… she's not just a child who can see memories. She's part of something bigger?"
Ania nodded weakly. "I can feel it. Like a part of me knew you needed to speak."
The room grew quiet again, everyone realizing that Ania's presence here was no accident. This bond, fragile, mysterious, was only just beginning.
Sofie looked at Ania with new understanding. "That's why you asked for us to come back, why your gaze glued to that painting."
Ania blinked, eyes softening. "I didn't know… I just felt something. Like someone was trying to talk to me."
Yureiv's faint voice echoed from the painting, "I reached out… and you answered."
Nicholson nodded slowly. "It was his call, and you were the only one who could hear it."
The truth settled in the room like a quiet storm, this was no coincidence. Ania had been chosen, or perhaps destined, to be the bridge between the past and the present.
Ania finally allowed herself to rest, her small body sinking into a deep, much-needed sleep. The weight of the night's revelations pressed down on everyone else, but for now, she was safe.
The next morning, Nicholson gathered the hunters quietly in the school's main hall.
"We need to move all the paintings inside the school," he said with a serious tone. "There's a secret room built years ago to store precious and dangerous items safely. We'll keep them there until we understand more."
The hunters nodded, beginning the careful task of transporting the fragile artworks.
Later, Sofie gathered Slacovich, Diego, Harry, Tyler, and Li in a small room for a meeting.
"We need to piece together everything we've learned so far," Sofie said, her eyes sharp with determination. "There's more going on than any of us expected."
They exchanged thoughtful looks, knowing this was just the beginning of uncovering a long-buried truth.
Sofie folded her arms, looking around at the gathered family. "We've got a lot to process. Yureiv's story changes everything."
Slacovich nodded. "If the painter's been hiding memories in those paintings all this time, we've been walking blind."
Diego rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The Barbarians… the way Nimpha and her family were treated… it explains why the Kingdom fell apart so fast."
Harry shifted uneasily. "And now we have a connection to that past. This Yureiv character, what does it mean for us now?"
Li, her arms crossed but eyes sharp, finally spoke. "It means we need to be careful. Those paintings are more than art, they're history, but also… traps. And Yureiv's not the only secret lurking here."
Tyler glanced at Sofie. "What about Ania? She's the only one who can hear him. What's her role in all this?"
Sofie looked down for a moment, then back up. "Ania's… special. Yureiv's power chose her for a reason. We have to protect her, but also listen to what she learns. She might be the key to unlocking the truth."
Slacovich's jaw tightened. "With the memories Yureiv's sharing, especially Nimpha's fragments, we can finally dig deeper into the origins of the Shadow Guards. It's the breakthrough we needed."
Sofie nodded. "And the strangest part? Yureiv can now speak freely, without needing Ania as a bridge, as long as she's nearby. Her presence alone opens a path for him."
Diego raised an eyebrow. "That connection between Ania and Yureiv… it's more powerful than any of us imagined."
Slacovich's voice dropped, filled with resolve. "Then we prepare. Keep the paintings safe, watch over Ania, and dive into Nimpha's memories. This is far from over."
The room fell silent, the weight of their task settling in.
Days passed in a blur.
Sofie found herself juggling a dozen tasks, overseeing company matters by day, poring over ancient scrolls and records late into the night with Nicholson, Slacovich, and the others. Their focus never wavered from uncovering more about the Shadow Guards, digging through every shred of Nimpha's memories that Yureiv could reveal.
Meanwhile, the presence of Volton Hellgazer loomed like a shadow over their every move. Rumors whispered of his plans, and the hunters stayed alert, watching for any sign of his next strike.
Amid it all, life still demanded a semblance of normalcy.
Ania's school was preparing for the upcoming Family Day, a bright, bustling event filled with laughter and simple joys. Sofie watched Ania practice for the school play, stealing quiet moments to remind herself what they were fighting to protect.
Slacovich checked in regularly, balancing the weight of leadership with a rare soft smile whenever Ania was around. Diego, Harry, Tyler, and Li each played their part, some watching the shadows, others standing guard, all ready for the storm brewing just beyond the horizon.
Their days were stretched thin, the threads of their lives tangled between mundane tasks and ancient secrets, but their resolve never faltered.
Because in the quiet moments, when Ania smiled or when the paintings whispered their truths, they knew why they fought, to protect the past, the present, and the fragile future yet to come.