"Have the applicants already left for the trials?" "The king inquired. He walked around Mr. Starkridge's office, tipping books and pens down on the dusty carpet and watching them roll.

"Yes, sir, they left a few hours ago. He said, swallowing hard and loosening his tie in agitation, "I assume they have already boarded the plane and are on their way to Sunset City as we speak." The lady who had accompanied the king took a seat on one of the couches closer to the office door. While the two were speaking, she started fussing with her nails.

"Mr. Starkridge, didn't I tell you that letting the boy live was going to cause some, complications. I suggested that we just kill the boy right then and there and be done with it. But you had to resort to the slow and methodical approach of feeding him blue fire, how did it go? " The king inquired as he rested his hand on one of the pens and picked it up.

"Uhm sir, I don't think it's appropriate to discuss such a thing in front of the lady," Mr. Starkridge stated, "This is really sensitive information."

The king returned his stare to the lady who had thrown a foul snare at him, shrugging her shoulders in the way of the school director. Before returning the pen to the table, the king laughed uncontrollably.

"Your skepticism is not appreciated by the lady. And are you questioning my decision to bring her to this meeting with me? You've questioned my judgment before, and look where it's led us: into even greater trouble," the king replied, finally taking a seat near the table. The school director was about to take his own seat when the king interrupted, saying, "No, stand up." I did not allow to take a seat, did I? "

"Apologies, my king," he hurriedly rose and cleared his throat, " I didn't want to offend you in any way, so I didn't say anything. Sir, I have complete faith in your judgment."

"Well, if you trusted my judgment, the boy would have died by now, and we wouldn't be having this talk right. And where is the young boy? Do you know where he is? "

"I'm afraid not, sire, since he left the school, the boy has gone missing,"

"This is precisely what I was attempting to prevent. You have no idea where he is. You have no idea what he's up to? In what ways are you assisting me? " the king inquired as he took up the pen once more.

"Sire, the child is running out of time. The tumor is growing quicker, and he only has a few months to live. He will die if he does not receive the therapy he needs, and he will not receive it since he is not a registered member of Ithea; no hospital will treat him without identification. Furthermore, he is unable to go to other kingdoms without being identified. This means he's stuck, and it'll only be a matter of time before he succumbs to the disease."

" Director, you talk with amazing assurance. I'm hoping your plan works out because if it doesn't, it'll be a disaster. You'll be dealing with me. You certainly don't want to deal with me while I'm enraged! " he stabbed the pen into the table. He walked over to the lady and grasped her hand, leaving the pen impaled. He ushered her out of the office by opening the door for her.

"I am confident that you will take care of everything, director. As he went out of the office and closed the door behind him, he said, "I hope to see you soon in the trials."

The director reclined in his chair, afraid. He didn't know where to start. He had no idea where Nelanian had vanished. Cecily had planned to persuade him to accompany her to her aunt's house, but that did not happen. Mr. Starkridge also knew that Cecily was the only person Nelanian could visit because she was the one person he felt was by his side the entire time, so he arranged for a spy to infiltrate Cecily's aunt's home and monitor everything from the inside. He was supposed to call if he noticed anything unusual.

He did call soon enough, just as King Vonner and his concubine were leaving the premises. Mr. Starkridge took the phone and spoke in a frantic tone.

"Whatever it is, it had better be good,"

"Sir, I have some good news for you. The homestead had just received a visitor. According to them, the visitor wants to speak with Cecily alone."

"So, who's the visitor? Is it a Nelanian?" "

"Sir, no. She calls herself Judy Ben Mor,"

"What does that sly little rat want?" " Mr. Starkridge wondered to himself, lost in thought.

"Sir, what should I do? " inquired the voice on the other end of the call.

"Just let her in, make certain you don't lose track of her! " Mr. Starkridge replied as he hung up the phone and tossed it on the table, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

IN ETHEL'S RESIDENCE
Judy Ben Mor stood outside the gates, wrapping her arms about herself to keep warm. As she rang the doorbell a second time, her long trench coat brushed across the leaves scattered on the pavement. She wanted to travel quietly, so she leased a salon vehicle to accompany her, leaving her trusty old van and the video crew behind.

"Who is it? " A static voice resonated from the doorbell's small speaker at the bottom.

"Hello, I'm Judy Ben Mor! I had a phone conversation with someone else earlier. I've come to speak with Miss Cecily," she said, her voice trembling from the cold. The speakers took a long time to turn back on.

The voice on the other end of the speaker replied, "We will be with you in a moment; please step aside from the gates while we open them." 

Before the gates began to open automatically, there was a tiny beep. Judy entered the compound by taking a step forward. Small plates on either side of the road were fitted with light bulbs that lighted up the roadway with a yellow burst of light, illuminating the way leading to the mansion's entrance. The gardens were difficult to see because of the dim light that accompanied nightfall.

Judy took a cautious approach over to the mansion's door, where she was greeted by a friendly dog who leaped up and down when it spotted her. It raced over to her and lay on her feet, twitching its tail and sticking out its tongue at her panting deeply. It seemed to be pleading to Judy to stroke its belly.
Judy knelt and stroked the dog's tummy, which produced a humorous response from the dog as it rolled from side to side.

"Hey there, buddy!" What's your name? Judy inquired, her voice tightening and sounding like a small girl. Judy eventually noticed the tag hanging around the dog's neck with the name "Sparkles" written on the metallic heart-shaped locket.

"Come here, Sparkles!" Another female voice called from the mansion's doorway. The dog sprang up and dashed toward the beckoning voice. Judy glanced up, spotting her standing by the slightly open door, hand resting on the frame. Sparkles bounded over and brushed against her leg.

The girl said, "Come on, girl, let's get inside. It's getting late." The dog complied, making its way through the ajar door. As Sparkles entered, the girl remained alone. She wore a loose pink robe, her hair a tangled mess, and her ankles exposed to the chilly air due to her flip-flops.Curious, she asked, "Why are you here?"

"Hi, I'm Judy Ben..."

"Yes, I know who you are. You haven't answered my question. Why are you here?"

Judy took a step up the stairwell, nearing the massive doors. "I needed to talk to you, Cecily. I was hoping you could shed light on what happened."

"I'm sorry, but I have nothing to say to you. Please leave the property before I call security to remove you," she responded, moving to shut the door in Judy's face.

"I know there were disagreements between you and the school director. I'm curious about the details. I can offer my assistance in any way you need, and I can make sure your side of the story is heard," Judy replied urgently. "If you're seeking justice, I can provide you with the means to achieve it."

Cecily contemplated for a moment near the ajar door. Eventually, she released the doorknob, allowing it to swing open. Judy interpreted this as an invitation to enter, which she did. The warmth enveloped her as she stepped inside, negating the need to wrap herself for comfort.

The room was illuminated by a hanging chandelier, casting a warm glow throughout. The decor was a blend of antiquity and opulence. Intricately woven carpets adorned with beautiful motifs spread across the floor, while deer and bear heads adorned the walls. A fireplace graced the room's rear.

A towering bookshelf extended from the left side to the fireplace. Judy had reservations about placing a bookshelf filled with books so close to a fireplace, yet somehow it worked.

"Alright, what exactly did you want to discuss?" Cecily inquired, taking a seat near the bookcase. Before her rested a coffee table, bearing a smartphone and a laptop. These modern devices seemed out of place in the old-world ambiance, as if they disrupted the aesthetics. Cecily lifted a cup of coffee from the table and took a sip, exhaling a breath of steam that swirled around the cup.

"Listen, I know this is sudden, but I need your help. I'm aware something happened that led both of you to withdraw from the trials, and I want to know more. If there's been an injustice, I want to help you and the other person bring it to light," Judy implored.

Cecily burst into laughter, setting her cup down before speaking. "Believe me, justice can't be found within the very system perpetrating the injustice. It's much more complex than you realize. The blame doesn't solely rest on the director's shoulders; in fact, they're nothing more than a pawn in this scheme. Focus on those behind the scenes – they're smaller than you think. If I were you, I'd simply walk away, as getting involved will only put you in danger. It could cost you your life."

"Listen, Cecily," Judy said as she drew a chair from next to her and rested her mass on it." I didn't choose journalism because it was simple. I was aware of the dangers associated with this profession, but I continued to perform it regardless. So there's no need to be concerned. I have a good sense of self-control. All I need to know right now is what happened,"


Cecily reclaimed her cup and added, "Well, I hope you're ready because this is going to be one of the most unbelievable stories you'll ever hear."