(Eleven Years Ago)
"You know, Ishmael..." Neva peers up at the clear, cloudless sky. Scarlet, lilac, and coral streak across the twilight, painting a dreamscape of hope.
A flock of birds cuts through the open canvas above, and for a fleeting moment, something glows in her chest.
"One day, we'll be free too." Neva tears her gaze away from nature's eternal grace and looks at the boy beside her.
He mirrors her wonder with quiet awe, her glowing eyes sparking something deep in his heart.
The two children rest in a grassy meadow beneath a great tree, surrounded by wildflowers and dancing weeds. Spring wind flurries around them. Below the cliff, a river flows—cerulean and emerald, alive.
Seven-year-old Neva dreams of the day she'll taste freedom.
She's always believed: beyond the Island of Miraeth, a greater world waits—more than anyone could imagine.
"We'll escape together, Neva," Ishmael says, eyes steady on hers.
Neva giggles. "And we'll always be together."
---
(Present Year)
Ishmael sits in his private study, eyes fixed on the men across the room.
"Start it," he orders the lead technocrat.
Zev guides the man to the secure table and unlocks the reinforced safe, revealing the Ruhd.
Raka keeps his face composed, but his heart pounds violently.
This moment could define everything.
Ruhd—dangerous, blood-red liquid—rests in a pressurized capsule.
A virus designed to kill slowly and cruelly: fever, shutdown of vital organs. No vaccine has ever succeeded.
It began with a threat. Raka took hostages, including the President's daughter, Lily, in the Hotel Aurora to force their hand. But he never expected the government to comply so easily. The authorities, he knew, would never willingly give up Ruhd.
And they didn't.
When EIS agents infiltrated Aurora to rescue the captives, he activated his true plan.
The President's motorcade was ambushed. Hidden security detail? Eliminated.
The vault at the 94th floor of Worthon Tower—the most secure facility in Erriador—required the President's fingerprint to open.
They never knew Raka had a workaround.
The capsule is untouched, but its biometric scanner has been cloned.
Ruhd was created by Dr. Neal Noe.
What few know is this: the original biometric key to the capsule wasn't the President's.
The failsafe is tied to his daughter—Noe's daughter.
That's why Raka wants the capsule.
Not for the virus, but for the fingerprint.
The last trace of her.
Neva.
The scanner retained fragments of the original fingerprint calibration—Neva's.
His technocrats extracted the residual biometric data and reverse-engineered it, then fed the refined template into a global identification algorithm. By accessing confidential citizen registries and scraping restricted biometric archives, they searched for the closest genetic and print match.
Unknown minutes pass. He drowns in dread. His breath is shallow.
Then it happens.
"Sir," the technocrat announces, "we've found a match."
Raka goes still—pale as a ghost.
Zev frowns, watching him. He's seen this before. The change in Ishmael whenever he inquires about her. The hollow hope. The unspoken desperation.
All these years, she was never found. Zev had feared she might've been a figment of a broken man's memory.
"Her name is Neva Mae," the technocrat continues. "She's enrolled in a university here, in Erriador."
The name stuns him. Mae.
It's not what he expected… but it's her. He knows.
His hands tremble. He sucks in a breath he didn't realize he needed.
"What did you say her name was?" he asks again, swallowing hard.
"Neva Mae, sir."
He rises slowly and walks toward the man, his movements heavy.
"Show me."
The screen rotates toward him, and there—her image.
Raka stares.
It's her.
His Neva.
His beautiful, radiant Neva.
The girl who once promised they'd always be together.
She's grown into a woman, but her eyes… they're the same. Ethereal. Unmistakable.
Zev murmurs without thinking, "Is she really alive…?"
But Raka ignores him.
The storm in his chest quiets, softened by that single image.
"Double his payment," Raka says softly.
"Yes, Raka," Zev responds.
"Thank you, sir," the technocrat says, bowing before being escorted out.
Alone now, Raka sits down again. His muscles are tight. He's still shivering.
He logs into the encrypted web. Tries to find her.
But Neva's digital presence is scarce. She's almost invisible online. Closed off from the world.
The fear creeps in again. Is this real?
His mind reels. His cold heart swells with warmth, the memory of her voice echoing in his soul. Emotions flood his chest—so long buried—and tears gather in his eyes.
For the first time in years… he feels human again.
He whispers, almost to himself, "I found you…"