Chapter 174: Before the Hunger — The Lord of Mercy (Part VII: The Garden Beyond Dreams)
"Evil rarely appears wearing the face of hatred.Sometimes it wears the face of compassion, offering an impossible miracle."
The First Keeper
The Queen had three days left.
At least...That was the estimate of the Royal Physicians.
The black veins had reached her heart.
Her breathing grew weaker with each passing hour.
The palace had become unnaturally quiet.
Servants whispered.Guards removed their helmets before entering the Queen's chambers.The King had not left her bedside in two days and Myra...Had begun questioning everything she knew.
The Sleepless Healer
She no longer dreamed.
Whenever exhaustion overtook her, she found herself standing in the same endless white field.The same crimson-cloaked figure waited patiently beneath a lone silver tree.
It never moved closer.
Never demanded anything.
It simply waited.
On the third night...
Myra chose to speak first.
"You said there was another way."
"There is."
"I've searched every book."
"You searched books written by mortals."
Myra frowned.
"What does that mean?"
The figure gently touched the silver tree.
Its leaves shimmered like stars.
"There are older truths."
"Older than kingdoms."
"Older than memory."
The air around them remained peaceful.
Nothing about the dream felt threatening.
That frightened Myra more than if it had.
A Conversation with the King
The next morning, the King requested Myra's presence.His face looked years older than it had only a week before.
He had abandoned his royal robes for simple white clothing, refusing every luxury while his people suffered.He stood beside the Queen's bed, holding her hand.
"My physicians tell me"
He began quietly,"that you're the finest healer they've ever known."
Myra lowered her head.
"I'm still not enough."
The King looked at his wife.
"I've ruled for thirty years."
"I've won wars."
"I've built roads."
"I've united provinces."
His voice trembled.
"And none of it can save the person I love."
He turned toward her.
"If there is anything"
"Anything at all"
"that might save her"
"I give you my permission."Myra froze.
"Even if it's dangerous?"
The King closed his eyes.
"If the alternative is watching her die"
"yes."
Those words echoed through her heart long after she left the room.The Garden
That evening, Myra wandered into the palace gardens.Winter had stripped most flowers away.Only one remained.
A single white lily blooming despite the frost.
The palace gardener noticed her watching it.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
She nodded.
"It shouldn't survive this weather."
The old gardener smiled.
"It doesn't know it's impossible."
He gently brushed snow from one of its petals."Life is stubborn."
Myra whispered,"So am I."
The gardener laughed softly.
"That can be either a blessing"
"or a tragedy."Astraeus' Warning
Astraeus arrived at the gardens before sunset.He found Myra kneeling beside the lily."You've changed."
He said.She didn't deny it.
"I keep asking myself one question."
She replied."What question?"
"If someone offered me a miracle"
"would I have the right to refuse it?"
The Wanderer sat beside her.
"For yourself?" "No."
"For everyone else."
Astraeus looked toward the winter sky.
"The hardest choices"
"are the ones made with love."
She looked at him.
"So what would you do?"
He remained silent for a long time.
Finally..."I would ask"
"who benefits from the miracle."
The Dream Changes.That night
The white field was gone.
Instead...Myra found herself standing in a magnificent garden unlike anything she had ever seen.
Crystal rivers wound through emerald grass.
Trees carried blossoms of silver and gold.
Thousands of flowers bloomed at once, untouched by season.Birds sang melodies she had never heard.No sickness.
No death.No suffering.
The crimson-cloaked figure waited beside a quiet stream."Do you like it?"
It asked."It's beautiful."
"It could be real."She looked around.
"No war?" "No."
"No plague?"
"None."
"No child ever buried?"
The figure slowly shook its head.
Tears formed in Myra's eyes.
"How?"The figure smiled.
"By removing the one thing that creates suffering."She frowned.
"What is that?"The figure answered softly.
"Choice."Silence.
The garden suddenly felt colder.
The Price Revealed"I don't understand."
Myra whispered.The figure knelt beside the stream."When people are free"
"They make selfish decisions."
"They wage wars."
"They spread hatred."
"They abandon each other."
The water reflected countless scenes.
Battlefields.Starving villages.Children crying.
Plague victims."What if"
The figure continued,"humanity could only choose kindness?"
"What if cruelty simply became impossible?"
"What if every heart desired only peace?"
Myra stared at the images.
The idea sounded wonderful.
Until...She remembered Elian's final lesson.
Never let compassion become control.
Her breathing slowed.
She took one step backward.
The crimson figure did not follow.
Instead...
It smiled.
Not with anger.
With patience.
"You don't have to answer today."
The dream faded.
Myra awoke before dawn.Outside her window.The first rays of sunlight touched the capital.She looked toward the Queen's chamber.Then toward her journal.
She opened it to Elian's final page.
His handwriting, though faded, remained clear.Mercy without freedom becomes another kind of prison.
Myra closed the journal tightly against her chest.For the first time
She understood that the voice in her dreams did not want to destroy the world.
It wanted to perfect it.
And that was precisely what made it so dangerous.Far below the earth
The crimson crystal pulsed once.
The ancient presence remained untroubled.
She had not accepted.
She had not refused.
She was thinking.
And sometimes...
Thinking was the first step toward surrender.