Back at the manor, Quirin paced the length of the hall, his mind troubled. The argument with Varian, his bright son, had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had gone too far. He knew his son was sensitive, prone to taking harsh words deeply to heart. Quirin sighed, running a hand through his brown hair. It was time to set things right.

Determined to find Varian and apologize, Quirin made his way to his son's room. He knocked softly on the door, hoping for a response. When none came, he called out, "Varian? Are you in there? We need to talk."

Silence greeted him. Frowning, Quirin pushed the door open and peered inside. The room was empty, the bed neatly made, and Varian's belongings arranged meticulously as always. A sense of unease settled over Quirin as he stepped into the room, his eyes scanning for any sign of his son.

"Varian?" he called again, louder this time. The manor, normally filled with Varian's energy and inventions, felt eerily silent.

Quirin checked the adjoining bathroom, the small workbench Varian used for his personal projects, and even the closet. There was no sign of him. The unease grew into a knot of worry in Quirin's stomach.

He moved through the manor, calling Varian's name as he went. He checked the kitchen, the library, and the sitting room, but found no trace of his son. Panic began to creep into his mind. Varian was always so focused, so driven-he rarely left without saying where he was going.

"Varian, this isn't funny," Quirin muttered to himself, his voiced tinged with fear. He quickened his pace, checking each room more thoroughly, but his search yielded nothing.

He paused in the entryway, trying to calm his racing heart. Think, he told to himself. Where would Varian go? What would drive him to leave the manor without a word?

Quirin's mind raced through possibilities. Varian often went to the woods to gather herbs and ingredients for his experiments, but he would have taken his satchel and supplies, which were still in his room. The market back at the kingdom was another possibility, but Varian usually informed him before heading into the village.

A dreadful thought struck Quirin. What if Varian had gone out into the storm? The blizzard had been raging for hours, and it was no place for anyone, especially not his son.

Quirin grabbed his cloak and hurried to the front door, throwing it open. The cold wind hit him like a wall, the snow swirling in the air and obscuring his vision. He stepped out onto the porch, his eyes straining to see through the storm.

"Varian!" he shouted, his voice barely carrying over the howling wind. There was no response, no movement in the white expanse before him.

Desperation gripped Quirin. He knew he couldn't let his fear paralyze him. He had to find Varian, had to make sure he was safe. Pulling his cloak tighter around him, he stepped into the snow, his boots sinking into the thick, icy layer that covered the ground.

Quirin trudged through the blizzard, calling out for Varian repeatedly. He checked the paths leading to the nearby woods, the road to town, and even the secluded spots where Varian liked to think. Each step was a struggle, the wind whipping snow into his face and the cold biting at his skin.

As he searched, memories of Varian flooded his mind-the boy's bright smile when he discovered something new, the determined glint in his eyes when he worked on his inventions, and the way he had looked up to him, seeking his approval. Guilt gnawed at Quirin's heart. He had been too harsh, too demanding. He had pushed Varian away when all he wanted was to bring him closer.

"Varian, please," Quirin murmured, his voice cracking with emotion. "Where are you?"

What felt like hours and hours of searching, Quirin's limbs grew heavy, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. But he refused to give up, driven by the need to find his son.

Quirin stumbled back into the manor, his body trembling from the cold and exhaustion. He fell to his knees in the entryway, the warmth of the house barely registering as he tried to catch his breath. He looked around, the reality of Varian's absence hitting him like a physical blow. His son was out there, somewhere, lost in the storm. Quirin's heart ached with fear and regret. He should have been more understanding, more supportive. Now, all he could do was hope that Varian was safe and that he could find him before it was too late.

Quirin dragged himself to his feet, determined to continue his search. He couldn't let his son face the dangers of the blizzard alone. Not after everything that had happened. He would find Varian, no matter what it took.

As Quirin ventured back into the blizzard, he realized that he needed more help. The realization dawned on him that he needed the head of the castle of the kingdom of Corona. Perhaps someone there could assist in the search of his son. The castle was a considerable distance away, especially in this weather, but Quirin knew he had no other choice. He tightened his cloak around him and set off towards Corona, his steps heavy but resolute.

The journey was arduous, the blizzard showing no signs of letting up, only growing stronger if anything. Quirin's thoughts kept returning to Varian, driving him forward despite the harsh conditions. As he trudged through the snow, the towering silhouette of the Corona Castle began to shape in the distance, a beacon of hope amidst the storm.

When he finally reached the gates of the castle, Quirin was nearly spent. His legs felt like lead, and his body was numb from the cold. He approached the guards, who were guiding some of the villagers inside the castle, their forms barely visible through the swirling snow.

The guards notice Quirin's presence and immediately run towards him. "Sir Quirin! What are you doing here? You should be inside a shelter!"

"Please," he muttered, his voice hoarse from shouting Varian's name. "I need to speak with the princess. It's an emergency."

The guards exchanged glances before they both urged Quirin forward, letting him enter the castle. "Get inside first, sir. Then we'll talk."

~~~~~~~~~ Meanwhile ~~~~~~~~~

The castle was a hive of activity as everyone worked frantically to address the mounting crisis. Rapunzel paced the room, her long blonder hair in her usual braid trailing behind her like a waterfall, her face etched with worry. "We'll never be able to get everyone to safety in time," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of the situation. "There has to be another way."

Cassandra, standing nearby, watched the princess intently. 'What plan does she have to stop this mess?' she wondered, her own mind racing for solutions.

Rapunzel suddenly turned to the group assembled before her. "What about Xavier?" she asked, a spark of hope in her eyes.

Nigel, the royal advisor, raised his voice in objection. "Your Highness!" he shouted. "With all due respect, lives are at stake here! We can't go chasing after fairy tales in our darkest hour!"

Before Rapunzel could respond, a voice echoed through the hall. "PRINCESS!!"

Rapunzel's head snapped toward the source of the voice, her heart leaping with recognition and concern. "Quirin? What's wrong? Why are you here so suddenly? And where's Varian?"

Quirin, his face etched with fear and desperation, stepped forward. His clothing was heavy with snow, and his eyes were wild with panic. "That's why I'm here! I need to talk to you-alone, if possible."

Without waiting for a response, Quirin grabbed Rapunzel's arm and pulled her towards a quiet, empty hallway just off the main hall. Cassandra, standing nearby, watched the scene unfold with growing alarm. The urgency in Quirin's demeanor and Rapunzel's immediate reaction only heightened her sense of unease. She wondered what could have prompted Quirin to seek out Rapunzel at such a critical time and where Varian was in all of this.

As Rapunzel and Quirin moved into the hallway, Cassandra was left standing in the grand hall, her thoughts racing. She sighed, turning back to look out the window, the snow quickly hitting the glass.

In the quiet of the hallway, Rapunzel turned to Quirin, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Alright, Quirin... This is weird. What happened? I though Varian was with you."

Quirin's face was pale, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and sadness. "About him... he disappeared. I've searched everywhere in the manor. It's as if he vanished without a trace."

Rapunzel's eyes widened, her mind grappling with the implications. "What? But why would he leave? He knows about the storm and the danger it poses. It doesn't make sense!"

"I don't know," Quirin admitted, his voice trembling. "He was there one moment, and gone the next. I have no idea where he could have gone, but I need your help. I'm afraid that if we don't find him soon, it might be too late."

Rapunzel's concern deepened, her mind shifting between the urgent matter of Varian's disappearance and the immediate crisis they were facing. "Quirin, we have to deal with the storm first. I understand how serious this is, but if we don't address the current situation, there won't be anyone left to find. Once the storm blows over, I promise we'll help to search for Varian. I swear it."

Quirin's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of his fear evident in his posture. "Thank you, Princess. I just don't know what to do. It's my fault. I was too harsh with him, and now I fear the worst."

Rapunzel reached out, placing a comforting hand on Quirin's arm. "We'll get through this. We'll find him, I promise. But for now, you need to stay here. It's freezing outside, and we don't want you succumbing to the storm as well."

With a nod of resignation, Quirin followed Rapunzel back into the room where she had gathered the others. He looked around, still visibly shaken but slightly reassured by Rapunzel's words. As they re-entered the room, Rapunzel's focus shifted back to the crisis at hand, but her mind was clearly troubled by the new revelation.

Back in the grand hall, Cassandra remained by the window, her gaze fixed on the swirling snowstorm outside. The blizzard raged on, a mirror to the storm of thoughts swirling within her. She closed her eyes, trying to focus and clear her mind amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, a whisper, soft and ethereal, brushed against her ears. It was as if the wind itself had taken on a voice, carrying with words of ancient mystery.

"Inside someone's heart, a flower will bloom," the voice murmured, its tone both haunting and calming. "The flower has great power, enough power to bring beauty and strength to a whole universe. This flower will stop the demons and guard the universe for as long as they live..."

Cassandra's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding as the words echoed in her mind. The prophecy was cryptic and enigmatic, yet it felt deeply significant. She turned her gaze back to the storm outside, trying to decipher the meaning behind the ethereal message. What flower could the voice be referring to? Was it Rapunzel? And how was it connected to her and the current crisis?