Leon's POV:
When I woke up after sleeping for what felt like an entire day, my eyes slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar ceiling above me. At first, my mind was racing with fear and confusion. As someone who had lived as a recluse for the past two years, finding myself in a strange room was unsettling. However, as I began to take in my surroundings, I realized that I was in a hospital. The last thing I could remember was the brutal fight with the monster that had left me and Tessia, my younger sister, with severe injuries.
As I tried to sit up, I felt a sharp pain in my side. Looking down, I saw the bandages wrapped tightly around my torso, a painful reminder of the battle we had fought. Tessia was lying on the bed beside me, her own bandages visible on her arms and legs. We had both been treated for our injuries, but we were far from healed.
Our mother was sitting beside us, patiently spoon-feeding us some sort of mushy food. Tessia was not happy about it, flailing her arms and protesting loudly.
"Mama! I don't want to eat this!" she whined.
"You have to eat it, little miss, so that your wounds will close up," my mother replied calmly.
"But we've been eating nothing but this since forever ago," Tessia complained.
"Don't exaggerate. That was just eight days ago," my mother said with a hint of amusement.
"But it felt like forever already," Tessia pouted.
I couldn't help but chuckle at my sister's childish complaints. It was good to see she still had her sense of humor despite everything we'd been through. It was true though, for the past eight days, all we had been eating was this bland, unappetizing food. I couldn't even tell what it was made of.
"Come on, Tessia, open your mouth," my mother pleaded, holding a spoonful of food in front of my little sister's face.
"No!" Tessia pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.
"If you don't, I won't buy you your favorite food," my mother teased.
Despite her reluctance, Tessia eventually gave in and reluctantly opened her mouth, allowing my mother to feed her.
"Now, it's your turn, Leon," my mother said, turning to face me with the spoon.
I turned my head away and looked out the window, hoping to avoid my mother's attempts to feed me.
It had been eight long days since that fateful encounter with the Lizardman. Ever since then, the village had been on high alert as reports of more monster attacks began to surface. I had heard that my father had taken it upon himself to hunt down the creatures responsible for terrorizing our village.
Sadly, I had also heard that someone had lost their lives to these monsters. It broke my heart to think about the family that had lost a loved one in such a tragic way.
Fortunately, the monster attacks seemed to have ceased, at least for the time being. It was likely due to the fact that it hadn't rained in the past few days. The Lizardman was infamous for residing in bodies of water, giving them an advantage in wet conditions.
When it rained, the creatures became faster and more agile, making them incredibly difficult to defeat. This explained why the Lizardman had been able to outmaneuver us during our encounter, taking us by surprise with its sudden speed and ferocity.
As I sat there, gazing out of the window, my mind wandered aimlessly. However, it was not long before an unsettling feeling crept over me. I couldn't shake off the feeling that this wasn't the end of the danger we were facing. Something felt off, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
Was it just paranoia, or was there something more sinister lurking in the shadows? What if this wasn't the end of it? What if there were other monsters lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike? What if the attack on our village was just the beginning of something far more dangerous? These questions seemed to swirl around me like a never-ending storm, and I couldn't find any peace.
The girl in my dreams continued to haunt me, her words echoing in my mind. Was it possible that there was some truth to what she had said? I had always thought that dreams were just a figment of my imagination, but what if they were something more? What if they were a warning, a sign of things to come?
All these thoughts had continued to plague me these past few days, leaving me feeling restless and on edge.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my mother's voice.
"Leon, are you okay? You seem distant," she asked, concern etched on her face.
"I'm fine, Mother. Just lost in thought," I replied, trying my best to hide my worries.
"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" my mother said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"I know, Mother. I appreciate it," I said, giving her a small smile.
"If that's the case, then it's time to eat your food," my mother insisted, holding the spoon to my mouth.
I thought I had managed to avoid her, but she had caught up to me once again. With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly opened my mouth, and the tasteless food went inside. However, as soon as it hit my tongue, a cruel and grotesque image flashed through my mind. The suddenness of it made my stomach churn, and I could feel the bile rising in my throat. Without warning, I vomited the contents of my stomach all over the floor.
"Leon?!" my mother was shocked, but then she noticed something that made her look even more horrified. "Leon, you..."
Curious as to what had caused her reaction, I stumbled over to the nearby mirror and looked at my reflection. It was then that I noticed my eyes were glowing a bright, menacing shade of red.
What was happening to me?
***
Aeltialiese's POV:
I walked down the long hallway leading to my father's study, the clicking sound of my heels echoed against the marble floor. As I reached the door, I hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before finally knocking.
"Who is it?"
"It's me. May I come in, Father?" I asked, my voice polite and respectful.
My father's stern voice called out from inside the room, giving me permission to enter. "You may," he replied curtly.
As I pushed the door open, I saw him engrossed in his work, a pile of papers scattered on his desk. The room was dimly lit, with only a single lamp illuminating the space. Despite the cluttered surroundings, my father's posture remained poised and dignified, his eyes scanning through the documents before him with precision and care.
"Excuse me, Father," I said, trying to catch his attention. "May I ask you something?"
My father looked up from his work, although I couldn't see his face behind the stack of papers on his desk. "What is it, Aeltia?" he asked, his tone brisk.
I hesitated for a moment before asking, "Is he okay?"
My father let out a deep sigh, clearly irritated by my interruption. "Why don't you go and see for yourself?" he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "I have so much work to do, and I don't have time to entertain your idle curiosity."
"But it concerns you, Father," I replied, my voice firm.
My father stopped writing and looked up, his gaze meeting mine. "How do you mean?" he asked.
I took a deep breath before continuing. "He will be your future son-in-law," I said.
My father let out another long sigh, his frustration clearly mounting. "Aeltia, I've already told you that your engagement has been abolished," he replied. "I won't allow you to marry a disowned, reclusive, and a useless nobody. Even if I did give my consent, do you really think our clan would agree? You need to think about your position, Aeltia."
I felt my anger rise at his words. "Then disown me," I said, my voice shaking slightly.
My father let out yet another sigh, clearly exhausted by my persistence. "Aeltia, please stop this," he said wearily. "I am extremely busy right now, and I don't have time for these kinds of conversations."
"I'm sorry, Father," I said. "But I really wanted to know if he was okay. That's the only reason why I came here in the first place. So if you could just tell me if he's okay, I'll leave right away."
My father set down his pen and fixed me with a hard stare. "And why should I do that?" he demanded. "You know very well that your engagement to him has been abolished. Even if I were to tell you that he's okay, it wouldn't change anything."
"But he's more than just my former fiance," I said. "He's my friend. And if he's hurt or sick, I want to know about it. Please, Father, I'm begging you."
For a moment, my father looked like he might refuse me again. But then, with a weary sigh, he relented. "Fine," he said. "He's in the hospital. He has a lot of injuries, but he'll be okay."
I nodded silently at my father's words. "Thank you, Father," I said before turning around and leaving the room.
As I walked back down the hallway, the clicking of my heels echoed in my ears.