As the night deepened, the nursery grew quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of the curtains as a gentle breeze wafted through the open window. Kazuki's mother, a kind and gentle woman with a voice as soothing as the lull of the ocean, cradled him in her arms. She began to sing a lullaby, her voice weaving through the air like a comforting embrace.
"In the heart of the night, under the star's light,
A whispering wind carries dreams in flight.
Moonbeams dance on the tranquil sea,
Painting a path of silver for the world to see…"
Kazuki's eyes fluttered as he listened to the melody, the words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. His mother's voice was soft, almost like a dream itself, and as she sang, she gently stroked his hair, her touch filled with love and tenderness.
As the lullaby drew to a close, Kazuki's mother leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear. "Kazuki, my sweet," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of something he couldn't quite understand, "tomorrow, a High Priest will come to visit. He will assess you and determine your path. It's a very important day, my love, one that will decide your future."
Kazuki didn't fully understand the weight of his mother's words, but he could feel the shift in the atmosphere, the way her voice trembled with a sorrow she couldn't quite hide. It was as if a shadow had passed over her heart, casting a long, dark veil over the warmth she usually radiated. She kissed his forehead gently, her lips lingering for just a moment longer than usual, as if trying to imprint the memory of this touch into her soul.
"Sleep well, my little star," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she tucked him into his soft, warm blankets. Her fingers brushed through his hair, and for a fleeting second, Kazuki saw a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. But before he could fully register it, she had turned away, the soft swish of her robes the only sound in the quiet room as she left him to the peace of the night.
The next morning dawned with an eerie stillness, the household shrouded in a silence that felt almost sacred. Kazuki's mother moved about the house in a daze, her usual cheerful humming replaced by a heavy, contemplative quiet. His father, normally full of energy and life, sat at the table with his hands clasped together, staring into nothingness, lost in thoughts that were too dark for words.
Then, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, a figure appeared on the horizon, moving with the measured grace of someone who carried the weight of great knowledge. The High Priest, a man of considerable age and wisdom, approached their home with an aura of authority that made the very air around him seem heavier. His robes were a deep, somber blue, trimmed with gold that gleamed in the sunlight like the rays of a distant star. His staff, a symbol of his power, tapped rhythmically against the ground with each step, echoing through the stillness like the heartbeat of the earth itself.
As the High Priest entered their home, the atmosphere seemed to thicken, as if the very walls were holding their breath. Kazuki's parents exchanged a tense glance before they led him into the room where the ritual would take place. The chamber was dimly lit, with heavy curtains drawn to keep out the harsh daylight, allowing only the soft glow of candles to illuminate the space. The flickering flames cast long shadows across the floor, adding to the somber mood.
Kazuki, barely able to comprehend the significance of what was happening, was placed gently on a small, intricately carved wooden pedestal in the center of the room. His tiny hands reached out for his mother, but she held back, her face pale and strained as she forced herself to stand at a distance. The High Priest stepped forward, his piercing gaze sweeping over Kazuki with an intensity that made even the young child instinctively recoil.
The ritual began with the High Priest chanting in an ancient language, his voice deep and resonant, filling the room with a power that felt almost tangible. The words he spoke seemed to vibrate in the very air, causing the flames of the candles to flicker and dance. Kazuki's parents watched with bated breath, their hearts pounding in their chests as the High Priest continued his incantations, the weight of each syllable pressing down on them like a physical force.
As the ritual progressed, the High Priest produced a small, ornate dagger from within his robes, its blade gleaming ominously in the candlelight. He held it above Kazuki, his movements deliberate and precise, as if each motion was part of a larger, predestined pattern. The air grew colder, and Kazuki shivered, feeling an icy dread seep into his bones.
The High Priest closed his eyes, murmuring a final incantation before lowering the dagger slowly, its tip just grazing Kazuki's forehead. The touch of the cold metal sent a shiver down his spine, and for a brief moment, it felt as if time itself had stopped, the world holding its breath in anticipation.
The High Priest pulled back, his eyes snapping open with a look of profound sadness mixed with stern resolve. He stepped away from Kazuki, his voice grave as he addressed the room. "This child," he began, his tone heavy with the weight of the revelation, "is the reincarnation of the Unlucky Star."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Kazuki's mother let out a small, choked gasp, her hand flying to her mouth as she tried to stifle the sobs threatening to escape. His father, the King, normally stoic and strong, looked as though the ground had been pulled out from under him, his knees buckling slightly as he struggled to maintain his composure.
The High Priest continued, his voice steady but tinged with a sorrow that belied the grim reality he was revealing. "This mark is no ordinary curse. It is a sign that he will bring chaos to this universe—chaos so great it will threaten to unravel the very fabric of our world. Too much chaos, and destruction follows. The stars have spoken, and their judgment is clear: this child's existence will bring devastation."
The room seemed to shrink with the weight of the High Priest's words. The air grew thick, almost suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in around them. Kazuki's father, the King, felt as though he were standing on the edge of a precipice, looking down into an abyss from which there was no return. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the impossible decision he was being forced to make.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes hardening as he forced himself to face the truth. "What must be done?" he asked, his voice cracking under the strain of holding back his emotions. The words felt like poison on his tongue, burning as they left his lips.
The High Priest's gaze sharpened, his expression becoming one of cold determination. There was no hint of hesitation, no trace of the sorrow he had shown before. This was a man who had long since made his peace with the cruelty of fate, a man who saw the world in black and white. "The church will never allow this boy to live," he declared, his voice like a hammer striking an anvil. "He must be eliminated before his power can grow, before the chaos he brings consumes us all. You, as his father and the King, must make the decision. The burden of this fate lies with you."
Kazuki's mother, who had been silent until now, felt her world shatter at those words. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. She clutched at her husband's arm, her nails digging into his flesh as if she could anchor herself to reality, as if she could somehow prevent this nightmare from unfolding. "No," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and horror. "He's just a baby… he's so innocent… there must be another way!"
The King turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. He had never seen her like this before, so broken, so desperate. The sight of her tears was like a dagger to his heart, twisting deeper with every sob. But even as he gazed at her, he felt the cold chains of duty wrap around his soul, dragging him back into the darkness of his decision.
He knew what he had to do. He had known it from the moment the High Priest had spoken those damning words. But that didn't make it any easier. Each breath he took felt like a betrayal, each moment of hesitation like an eternity. The weight of the crown on his head had never felt so heavy.
"I have no choice," he murmured, more to himself than to her. His voice was thick with anguish, the words barely able to make it past the lump in his throat. He looked away from her, unable to bear the pain in her eyes, the pain he knew he was about to cause.
The King, however, had already steeled himself. His face hardened, the mask of a ruler who had to make impossible decisions for the greater good. He turned to the guards stationed by the door, his voice firm despite the tremor beneath. "Take the Queen to her chambers," he ordered, each word laced with the authority that came with his title. "Lock her in until this is over."
Kazuki's mother's eyes widened in horror, her breath hitching as the full weight of his words settled over her. "What are you saying?" she screamed, panic flooding her voice as she struggled against the guards who moved to restrain her. Her voice was raw, filled with a desperation that tore at the King's soul. "You can't do this! He's our son! You can't just—"
But her pleas fell on deaf ears. The guards, trained to follow orders without question, moved to fulfill their king's command. They took hold of her arms, their grips firm but not unkind, and began to drag her from the room. Her cries echoed down the corridor, a haunting sound that would stay with the King for the rest of his life.
He stood unmoved, his face a mask of grim determination. But inside, he was crumbling. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stop, to call out to the guards and tell them to let her go, to rush to her side and promise her that they would find another way. But he knew that was a lie. There was no other way. The stars had spoken, and their judgment was final.
The door closed behind her, sealing the silence in the room. It was a silence so profound, so oppressive, that it seemed to crush the very air from the King's lungs. He could still hear her screams in his mind, could still feel the ghost of her touch on his arm. The guilt, the pain, the unbearable sorrow—it all threatened to overwhelm him.
But he couldn't afford to break. Not yet.
"Take the boy," he commanded another guard, his voice flat and emotionless, as if by stripping the emotion from his voice he could strip it from his heart as well. "Take him deep into the wilds, far from here, and end his life. I cannot… I cannot bear to watch."
The guard hesitated for a moment, seeing the anguish in his king's eyes, but then nodded, accepting the order with a heavy heart. He stepped forward and carefully lifted Kazuki from his cradle. The baby stirred in his arms, his tiny hands grasping at the guard's tunic, his innocent eyes wide and trusting as they looked up at the man who held him. Kazuki didn't understand what was happening, didn't know that his fate had already been sealed. He only knew that he was being taken away from the warmth of his bed, from the familiar scent of his mother, from the comforting sound of his father's voice.
As the guard turned to leave, the High Priest allowed a faint smile to cross his lips, the first sign of satisfaction he had shown all day. "You have made the right choice, Your Majesty," he said, his tone almost reverent. "The world will be safer because of your sacrifice."
But the King did not respond. He could only stare at the empty cradle, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a mountain. The reality of what he had done, of what he had ordered, was beginning to sink in, and with it came a wave of crushing despair.
The High Priest watched him for a moment longer, then turned to leave, his robes sweeping behind him as he exited the room. His departure left the King alone in the silence, alone with his thoughts, his guilt, and the unbearable weight of his decision.
Kazuki, cradled in the guard's arms, could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken sorrow that hung like a shroud over the room. He whimpered softly, a sound that tugged at the guard's heart, but the man had his orders. He couldn't disobey. Not even for a child as innocent as this.
As the guard carried Kazuki away, the King felt something break inside him. The tears that he had held back for so long finally spilled over, running down his cheeks in silent rivers. He fell to his knees beside the empty cradle, his hands clutching at the wooden frame as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
The nursery, once filled with the sounds of laughter and life, was now silent, a place of unbearable loss and unspoken goodbyes. The air was thick with the weight of what had just transpired, the weight of a decision that could never be undone.
And as Kazuki's father knelt there, his body shaking with silent sobs, he knew that he would never be the same again. The price of duty had been too high, the cost too great. He had lost more than just a son; he had lost a part of himself.
Outside, the first rays of dawn were beginning to break over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the castle. But for the King, there would be no light, no relief from the darkness he had chosen to embrace for the sake of his kingdom. The shadows would follow him for the rest of his days, a constant reminder of the choice he had made, the life he had taken, and the son he had lost.