In the silent embrace of the night, Dorea found herself wrestling with conflicting emotions. Amidst the tangled emotions, confusion emerged as the dominant force, creeping insidiously into every corner of her consciousness.
The core of her turmoil lay the enigma of her relationship with Leviashivae. Once, she had seethed with a burning hatred towards him, she was consumed by the searing memory of her parents' lifeless forms, a stark reminder of the devastation he had wrought upon her world.
Guilt gnawed at the edges of her conscience, haunting her every waking moment.
She questioned the depth of her grief, the sincerity of her sorrow as if measuring the weight of her pain against some invisible scale of bereavement. How could she have allowed herself to forget, even for a moment, the faces of those she had loved and lost? Was this not the ultimate betrayal, a testament to her inadequacy as a daughter?
Yet, even as she berated herself for her perceived failings, a wariness lingered in the recesses of her mind. Was it wise to trust in the fleeting comforts offered by Leviashivae, the embodiment of her anguish? Or was she merely trading one form of pain for another, seeking solace in the arms of her tormentor?
She knew that Leviashivae had already asked for her forgiveness, but mere words could never heal the wounds within her heart. The pain in her chest felt all too real, a constant reminder of the anguish she had endured.
Despite his apology, she wasn't ready to accept it, her heart still raw with hurt and resentment. Forgiveness seemed like an elusive mirage, just out of reach, as she grappled with a tumultuous storm of emotions within her.
Her tears fell as she watched dozens of flying fireflies illuminate the night through her bedroom window. Each flickering light seemed to dance in harmony with her emotions, casting a gentle glow that mingled with the darkness of her solitude. The delicate beauty of the fireflies in the quiet night offered a fleeting sense of solace.
Gently, the night guided her eyes to close as she rested peacefully, surrendering herself to the soothing embrace of slumber. The soft rustle of leaves outside her window, accompanied by the distant hoot of an owl, lulled her into a state of tranquil serenity. Her worries and burdens seemed to dissipate, replaced by dreams woven from the threads of starlight and whispered promises of tomorrow.
As the peaceful night gave way to the gentle light of dawn, Dorea stirred from her slumber, her senses filling with the aroma of delicious food wafting through the air. Despite the rumbling protests of her stomach, Dorea remained nestled in bed, reluctant to face the day. Clutching her pillow tightly, she curled up as the problem from the previous night weighed heavily on her mind.
She ignored the persistent knocking on her door. Dorea's reverie shattered when a large hand gently touched her shoulder. Startled, she looked up and saw Leviashivae standing beside her with concern etched on his face.
"Are you okay, Dorea?" he inquired softly, but all he received in response was a small moan from the girl's lips. Leviashivae fought to keep his composure, his worry for Dorea growing with each passing moment.
He gently touched her and tried to coax her out of bed, his soothing voice urging her to leave the bedroom and try to eat something.
Yet Dorea remained stubborn, her gaze distant and lost in thought. Leviashivae couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration and deep concern. He had never seen her so withdrawn before this, and her behavior worried him greatly.
As the minutes passed, she finally relented and allowed herself to be out of bed. Her movements were slow as if weighed down by an invisible burden. Leviashivae guided her to the table where a warm meal awaited, hoping it might lift her spirits even just a little. But as Dorea picked at her food, her mind seemed elsewhere, lost in her own thoughts.
Leviashivae watched her closely, his heart heavy with worry. He knew that whatever haunted her mind was something he couldn't fix with a simple meal or comforting words. Yet he resolved to stay by her side, offering his support for as long as she needed.
Leviashivae's gentle inquiry hung in the air, "Dorea, what's wrong? Why did you not eat the soup?"
Dorea listened to the question but remained silent, her fingers tracing patterns with the spoon on her untouched meal.
"Please, Dorea, I'm here for you. Talk to me." Leviashivae leaned in, his voice soft yet insistent.
Finally, with a deep sigh, Dorea confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, "I miss my kingdom... and my parents." Her words hung heavy in the air, echoing the ache in her heart.
Leviashivae's expressionless face softened, his hand reaching out to comfort her.
"I understand, Dorea. I'm truly sorry for your pain."
But this time, Dorea's response was different, her frustration bubbling to the surface as she snapped, "Your apologies won't bring them back!" Her outburst was laced with anger and sorrow, a torrent of emotions long kept at bay finally breaking free.
Leviashivae touched her shoulder gently as he tried to calm her trembling form. "I know, Dorea. I can't change the past. There are many things that I wish I didn't do."
"Including killing my parent?!" She asked Leviashivae in disbelief.
Hearing the question his face changed to the impassive once again. "No, I'm sorry to say it to you, but they deserve to die."
But Dorea's eyes flashed with hurt and betrayal as she listened to his answer, her voice trembling with emotion. "Why didn't you feel remorse when you destroyed everything I held dear?" Her question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unresolved pain and unanswered doubts.
"But I regret it, not because I killed them but because they are your family," he admitted softly.
Leviashivae is silent for a while, his gaze fixed on his hands, stained with the remnants of his past actions. His mind drifted, grappling with the complexities of his own nature. Was this ability a curse, he wondered, a burden he was condemned to bear?
Retreating his hand from Dorea's, he wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between his desire to ease her pain and his fear of causing further harm. As much as he longed to dispel the negativity clouding her heart, he understood the importance of allowing her to express her emotions freely.
For a moment, he recalled the wisdom of his friend Rana, who had once taught him that acknowledging one's feelings was the first step toward healing. And so, he resolved to offer Dorea the space she needed to confront her sadness, anger, and hurt, trusting that in time, wounds would begin to mend.
"I hate you," she said in a whisper.
He watched her patiently to express herself.
"I hate you. I hate that you are nice to me and not my parents," A single tear fell, then she started to sob. "Why... why did you choose me over my parents and many people that you hurt?" She asked him between her cries.
As she sobbed before him, her anguish palpable in the air, Leviashivae's mind raced, grappling with the complexity of his actions. Why did he choose her over countless others he had encountered? The answer eluded him, obscured by layers of regret and uncertainty.
Yet, as he searched for clarity amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, a few reasons came to his mind. Dorea's innate magic affinity was ice like him, her destined role as a leader or queen in Novacora, and above all, the vulnerability she had displayed in her moment of need—all these factors had drawn him to her, compelling the dragon to offer his protection and guidance.
But even as he reasoned with himself, Leviashivae knew that his motivations ran deeper than mere practicality. Beneath the icy exterior of his heart lay a flicker of compassion, a glimmer of humanity awakened by Dorea's presence. He had a lot of expectations for the girl in the future. He wanted to make her his successor, a leader that is better than himself, someone strong, wise, and fair. And more importantly, he wants her to find the happiness that was gone because of him.
And so, with a heavy heart and a solemn resolve, Leviashivae reached out to Dorea, his voice soft yet tinged with regret. "I chose you because... because I couldn't bear to see you suffer alone," he confessed, his words laden with the weight of his past transgressions. "I know my actions may not excuse the pain I've caused you, but please know that I am here for you now, to help you heal and find your way forward."