Nearly eighteen years ago...
Lord Calypso's footsteps were heavy and yet uniform. He paced around the palace hall, lacing and unlacing his fingers, wriggling it nervously. His fine purple linen robe didn't matter to him whether they kissed the ground or not, for he had more pressing issues to worry about.
Everyone was witted enough to stay away (mostly hiding) from him as far as possible. Even those skimpy ladies who were dealing with his pedicure hurried up and left. Anyone within close proximity to him was no doubt at risk for everyone knew what he was capable of. For he wasn't just any king, any Lord. He was Dark Lord Calypso, the king of the Ferrates.
If the blood doubtlessly ran in his veins, he was just as dangerous and powerful as all his ancestors were. And even more powerful because he was severely bathed with rage.
"Where is she?" He thundered, only his voice reverberated in the hall. He had unconsciously driven everyone out of the hall when the news dropped on him by one of the servants tasked to bring her food every time. And by the looks of it, he was a ticking bomb waiting to happen, "Where is the freak who has my unborn child?!!!"
Cyrena had ran away from the palace though heavily pregnant as the child was meant to come any moment from now. She ran before the sun showed its faintest light.
It sounded impossible because it was a known fact that the palace was heavily guarded to the point that you could not attempt to fetch maybe a snack without feeling daggering eyes.
Lord Calypso had underestimated Cyrena, the woman he had once secretly fell deeply in love with. Surely, she was traitorous, he knew that. But he never thought she could sneak right under his nose like that. She had betrayed her race, the faery race, for him, a ferrate. Their race never mixed. Even if an attachment was formed, which was impossible due to the mutual hatred both race had for one another, an offspring could not be formed.
And yet, she had his unborn child.
If she could betray her race, who was he that she couldn't turn her back on?
He was the Dark Lord. Evil smeared on his destiny like a coffee spill. He could never let his guard down because of a woman, a faery for that matter.
"Someone fetch me Nissa. Where the hell is Nissa?" He fired again. But this time, someone was courageous enough to confront him.
Only Durin, a mere gardener, could come out from his concealment and face Lord Calypso, despite knowing the risk involved. Lord Calypso could be responsible for him dying a slow and peaceful death. His name may never be heard of throughout existence.
"I'm afraid she was the brain behind it, my Lord," Durin's husky voice echoed, his head held downwards. He was a man in his late forties whom life had dealt with. He wore what could be mistaken for a rag.
"What do you mean?" Lord Calypso turned to face him, his face booming with unquenchable rage, and now, Durin regretted ever leaving his concealment, "Do you wish to tell me that the caretaker I put in charge of guarding Cyrena was the one who plotted the escape?"
"I-I'm afraid so, my Lord," Durin's voice faltered. No one could blame him for it.
Lord Calypso was astounded. Nissa was his sister whom he had tasks with the responsibility of watching over Cyrena. Little did he know that she had formed a sort of bond with Cyrena.
• • •
He dashed through the archway, going deeper into the palace ground until finally stopping at a door. It was named "Chamber of Secrets" because it held many secrets and it was impossible to intrude because it was guarded.
He searched through his robe and found a pen knife which he pressed into his veins, letting the blood flow into the huge door. The door, recognizing it was the blood of a Dark Lord, creaked open.
That was before he heard the growl.
It was Cerberus, the Greek three headed dog, known for guarding the entrance to Hades.
They had one in the palace. One once captured by Ariel, the first Dark Lord. And since then, Cerberus was made to be subject to any Dark Lord. In this case, Calypso.
Lord Calypso's eyes darted here and there as he walked through the room. He finally spotted what he was looking for. A bottle. It was filled with purple black glistering liquid which he knew too well. He uncorked the bottle and a thick smell filled the room.
He ignored the smell. He needed the bottle. His reign would be over any moment from now, he needed an heir. The only way he could stay alive was if he drank the forbidden elixir of life.
He emptied the contents of the bottle into his mouth and he almost regretted it. It tasted worse than the smell. The pain he was feeling was worse than anything he had imagined. The scorching flame inside his body was unbearable. He let out an ear splitting scream that could be heard even from a mile away.
Immediately, the pain subsided and he was normal again.
Now he get to live forever until he finds his heir. But what he missed was that he had drunk the forbidden elixir of life. It was forbidden for a reason.
Now he had a price to pay.