'Sophia... Sophia... Sophia...' The name echoed incessantly in Taylor's mind, a relentless refrain that refused to be silenced as he grappled with the unsettling reality of his nightmares.
It wasn't a curse, at least not in the traditional sense, as the late Father Deus had suggested. it wasn't a mystery either as he gained no special ability whatsoever.
Each night brought with it a barrage of nightmarish visions, each more terrifying than the last. And at the heart of it all was Sophia – a name that held no significance to him, yet seemed to be the focal point of his torment.
Try as he might, Taylor struggled to recall any memories of Sophia, to piece together the fragments of his shattered psyche in search of answers.
But no matter how hard he tried, she remained an enigma, a specter haunting the edges of his consciousness.
'Tsk…'
With a frustrated click of his tongue, Taylor turned his gaze towards the mirror in his private bathroom, a silent witness to the turmoil that raged within him.
Just days ago, he had shattered it with a single punch in a fit of rage.
And yet now, it stood whole and unblemished before him, a testament to the unseen forces that governed his existence.
"I guess Miss Bella or Sir Sebas fixed my mirror," he mused, a bitter irony tinged with resignation.
He then crumpled up his hari frustrated about everything….
"Hey, who are you...?" Taylor muttered, his reflection in the mirror staring back at him with an eerie silence that sent a shiver down his spine.
"…." But there was no response, no echo of his own voice reverberating back to him. It was as if the mirror held a secret, a truth waiting to be revealed, yet remained stubbornly silent in the face of his inquiries.
As he pondered the mysteries that surrounded him, Taylor couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping over him.
Whatever was happening to him, it wasn't just about Sophia – it was about him, his very essence, his identity.
The hours had slipped away unnoticed, the pale light of dawn casting long shadows across the room as Taylor wrestled with the memories of the previous day.
He remembered the frenzied battle with the duke, the manic laughter that had echoed through the air as he fought with reckless abandon.
That clearly wasn't like him.
Alth9ough he was always pissed looking at the duke's face he wasn't that mad at him… to the point of wanting to kill him just to see a few specks of blood.
But the world he had witnessed that day – the twisted reality that had unfolded before his eyes – surely that couldn't have been his own, could it?
Taylor clung to the hope that what he had seen was nothing more than a fleeting illusion, a trick of the mind born from the chaos of battle. After all, in a world where reality itself seemed to warp and bend to the will of unseen forces, the truth was a fragile concept at best.
'Once you see your world and train your aura... That was the only truth you could hope to nourish in you,' he mused as he recalled what the duke said to him, his thoughts then drifted back to the bloody, dreadful world he had glimpsed during the heat of combat.
Though he had only witnessed it for a fleeting moment, its impact had seared itself into his consciousness – a world teeming with death and violence, a stark contrast to the peace and tranquility he had once known.
Taylor turned his gaze back to the mirror, studying his reflection with a mixture of apprehension and unease.
His handsome face stared back at him, a mask of uncertainty and doubt as he wrestled with the unsettling revelations that had been thrust upon him.
But as he prepared to leave his room behind, a chill ran down his spine, sending goosebumps rippling across his skin.
In the mirror's reflection, he saw something that made his blood run cold – his own reflection, smiling at him with a sinister grin that stretched from ear to ear.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Taylor stared into the eyes of his doppelganger, a sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach.
Was this just another trick of the mind, another illusion born from the chaos of his own thoughts?
Or was there something more sinister at play, something lurking just beneath the surface of his reality?
With a shaky breath, Taylor tore his gaze away from the mirror, closing the door behind him with trembling hands.
But even as he stepped out into the world beyond, the memory of his reflection's sinister smile lingered in the back of his mind.
…..
Upon returning to the mansion after her date with Prince Hansel, Stella's heart was filled with a mix of happiness and anticipation.
The evening had gone well, and she couldn't wait to spend some quality time with Taylor, her loyal friend and confidant.
As she was transported back to her mansion through teleportation magic, a sense of contentment washed over her.
Despite the late hour, Stella arrived home early, thanks to an emergency meeting that required Prince Hansel's immediate attention.
With a smile on her lips, she eagerly made her way through the grand halls of the mansion, her footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors.
She longed to be reunited with Taylor once again, cherishing the precious moments they had left together before she would have to return to the academy.
The thought of being apart from him for another year filled her with a bittersweet longing – a month of vacation hardly seemed like enough time to truly savor their friendship.
But amidst her happiness, a nagging question lingered in the back of Stella's mind – why had all of this happened?
The news of Taylor's accident, caused by her father's reckless actions, had left her feeling confused and angry. Despite the assurances of the doctors and healers that Taylor would soon awaken, Stella found herself unable to shake the boiling rage that simmered within her.
As she stood outside Taylor's room, watching him sleep peacefully, a storm of emotions raged within her chest. Anger, frustration, and guilt mingled together in a tumultuous whirlwind, threatening to overwhelm her.
Even after she had punished her father with her lightning magic, the sense of injustice still gnawed at her insides.
What her father had done was undeniably wrong, and no amount of retribution seemed sufficient to quell her righteous fury.
Stella's emotions churned like a tempestuous sea as she confronted her father in the dimly lit corridor of their mansion.
The weight of her anger bore down upon her, fueled by the knowledge that Taylor's accident had been caused by her father's reckless actions.
He had been doing this since yesterday honesty she was getting tired.
"S-Stella, dear, can't you forgive Daddy?" Her father's voice trembled with a mixture of remorse and desperation.
"Don't talk to me..." she spat, her words laced with venom as she brushed past him, her steps resolute as she made her way towards Adrian's room.
Her father's disheveled appearance, a stark contrast to his usual dignified demeanor, served as a stark reminder of the consequences of his actions.
Stella couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at her mother's decision to punish him, knowing that he needed to learn the gravity of his mistakes.
As her father continued to plead for forgiveness, Stella's anger burned like a raging fire within her.
With icy resolve, she delivered one final ultimatum, her eyes glinting with a chilling intensity.
"Don't follow me..." Stella's voice sliced through the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving, leaving no room for argument or negotiation.
"But, dear, that wa—" Her father's feeble protest was cut short by Stella's next words, each syllable dripping with venomous contempt.
"I hate you, father!" she spat, her words ringing with the weight of her resentment and anger.
The duke staggered back, as if struck by a physical blow, his features contorted in anguish and disbelief. In that moment, it was as if his entire world had crumbled around him, leaving him bereft and broken.
With a heavy heart, Stella turned away, her footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors as she made her way towards Taylor's room.
Behind her, she could feel the weight of her father's despair, a silent testament to the pain she had inflicted upon him.
As she disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, leaving her father kneeling on the ground, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt tug at her heart.
But amidst the turmoil of her emotions, she knew that she had spoken the truth.
….
Stopping in front of Taylor's room, Stella took a moment to steady her breath, her hand hovering uncertainly over the doorknob. Memories of her previous embarrassing encounter flooded her mind, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension.
"Last time was just an accident... But that wasn't my fault, right?" she muttered to herself, trying to rationalize her decision to enter Taylor's room uninvited. After all, it was Taylor's fault for getting dressed at the wrong time, wasn't it?
She shook her head, trying to dispel the doubts that lingered in her mind. What she had seen that day had been nothing more than Taylor's upper half – it wasn't as if he had been completely naked. And yet, despite her attempts to convince herself otherwise, a part of her couldn't deny the lingering curiosity that tugged at her thoughts.
"It's not like I want to see him naked again," she muttered under her breath, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the thought. "I'm just worried about him, that's all."
With a determined resolve, Stella clenched her fist and took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay beyond the door. Despite the doctor's assurances that Taylor would wake up soon, he had yet to regain consciousness, and Stella couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that gnawed at her insides.
"Maybe he's just sleeping," she reasoned, her voice barely above a whisper. And with that thought in mind, she pushed open the door, her heart pounding in her chest as she stepped into Taylor's room.
Knocking twice on the door before entering,
Stella hurried into Taylor's room, relieved to find that there was no magical interference preventing her entry this time.
With a quick glance around the room, her eyes landed on Taylor, who lay still in his bed.
"T-Taylor, are you awake now? Good morning—" Stella's words trailed off as her gaze fell upon him, her eyes widening in shock.
Before her stood Taylor, completely naked and unabashed, his form laid bare for her to see. In the span of a few milliseconds, Stella's eyes darted over his figure, her cheeks flushing crimson as she took in every detail.
Her heart raced in her chest, her mind struggling to process the sight before her. A myriad of emotions washed over her – embarrassment, surprise, and a hint of something else she couldn't quite name.
And then, unable to contain her shock any longer, Stella let out a piercing scream, her voice echoing through the room.
"KYAAAHHH! I-I'm really sorry!" she stammered, her face burning with embarrassment as she turned away, unable to meet Taylor's gaze.
In that moment, all she wanted was to disappear, to erase the memory of what she had seen from her mind forever.
But deep down, a small part of her couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that pulsed through her veins, igniting a fire she hadn't known existed.
Stella's footsteps echoed loudly in the corridor as she hurriedly fled from Taylor's room, her heart pounding in her chest with embarrassment.
With a swift motion, she slammed the door shut behind her, the sound reverberating through the hallway like a thunderclap – a stark reminder of the last embarrassing incident that had occurred within those walls.
Meanwhile, inside the room, Taylor stood frozen in a daze, his mind reeling from the shock of Stella's sudden intrusion.
From head to toe, he had been laid bare before her, his cheeks and ears burning with embarrassment as he grappled with the aftermath of her unexpected visit.
As the moments passed, Taylor couldn't help but wonder how he could ever face Stella again after what had just transpired.
The thought of her seeing him in such a vulnerable state filled him with a deep sense of shame, and he couldn't shake the feeling that their relationship would never be the same.
Outside the room, Stella leaned against the wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to compose herself.
Despite Stella's best efforts to banish the memory from her mind, the image of Taylor's naked form persisted, haunting her thoughts like a stubborn ghost.
Try as she might to push it away, the memory ignited a tumult of conflicting emotions within her – embarrassment, curiosity, and perhaps something else she couldn't quite name.
"I-It was really l-long and big..." she murmured to herself, her face flushing crimson at the thought. The realization only served to deepen her embarrassment, sending her heart racing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
And beyond the closed door, the duke lingered in the hallway, his heart heavy with guilt and regret.
He knew that his actions had caused untold harm to his daughter and her friend, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had irreparably damaged their relationship.
As he stood there, lost in his thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder how they would ever be able to reconcile their fractured bond.
In that moment, all three of them – Stella, Taylor, and the duke–wondered how they would ever be able to face each other again.