I felt small and vulnerable in his arms as we walked down the dimly lit corridor. The knights' footsteps faded behind us, leaving an eerie silence broken only by the soft echo of my guardian's steady pace. My mind was racing, filled with questions about my past, my family, and the mysteries that seemed to surround my very existence.
"Father- What was my father like?" I asked, my voice sounding small and uncertain in the cavernous hallway. I turned my head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. The fading sunlight cast long shadows across his features, making him look more severe than usual.
His expression remained impassive, eyes fixed straight ahead as if he were looking at something far beyond the stone walls. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at his lack of response. Was he too preoccupied to hear me? Or was there something about my father he didn't want to share?
The corridor seemed to stretch on endlessly, each columnar window we passed offering a brief glimpse of the setting sun. The warm orange light contrasted sharply with the cold stone surrounding us, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere. I found myself torn between the desire to press for answers and the fear of breaking this fragile moment.
As we approached my room, a storm of conflicting thoughts swirled in my mind. I felt a sudden weakness, not physical, but a weakness of resolve. Why was I searching for reasons to be kind, to forgive? The very idea seemed absurd after everything that had happened. But then, what exactly had happened? To whom?
Family. The word echoed in my head, hollow and meaningless. Did I even have a family to speak of, let alone one that had been wronged? I tried to recall a single person who had remained constant in my life, someone I could trust implicitly. But my memory drew a blank. No one had ever been that for me.
So who was I fighting for? The question hit me like a punch to the gut. Was there even a real villain in this story, or was I just casting myself as the victim to give my life some semblance of purpose? The thought was unsettling. Maybe I was too comfortable, too sheltered, and my mind was creating conflicts where none existed.
I probed deeper into my motivations. My mother - I held no love for her. My father - a complete mystery. So what was driving me? Why this burning desire to destroy Domino and establish Kior? Kior...the name brought a pang of something - nostalgia? Pain? But Kior was destroyed, decimated and obliterated. So, what was I clinging to?
As we neared my room, I felt lost in a labyrinth of my own making. My purpose, my identity, my very existence - all of it seemed to be built on shifting sands. Who was I really? And more importantly, who did I want to be?
-Helia Palace; Roxana's Room, Evening-
As the King placed me on my bed, I remained stoic, my face a mask of indifference. The dying light of day cast long shadows across my room, but I refused to let the growing darkness unsettle me. My uncle, now stepfather and King of Domino, knelt before me, his left arm resting on his knee. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, now held an intensity that would have made a weaker person flinch.
"Luxana," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to echo in the stillness of the room.
I met his gaze unflinchingly, waiting. The air grew thick with unspoken words, heavy with the weight of secrets about to be unveiled.
"Your father," he began, his words dripping with a mixture of reverence and barely concealed bitterness, "was a god among men, a paragon I could only dream of becoming." His pause was deliberate, allowing his words to sink in like poison. "But dreams, Luxana, are for the weak."
I remained silent, my face betraying nothing of the storm brewing within me.
"He was adored, worshipped," the King continued, his voice taking on a haunting quality. "Everything he touched turned to gold. Friends would willingly bleed for him, your mother..." Here, his eyes glinted dangerously. "Even she, with all her resentment, was bound to him by chains of her own making."
The room seemed to darken further as he spoke, as if the very shadows were drawn to his words.
"With each swing of his sword, legends were born. Empires trembled at the mention of his name." His voice dropped even lower, forcing me to lean in slightly. "And your grandfather... oh, how he cradled your father's future in his palms, keeping it safe, keeping it bright."
The King's eyes bore into mine, his next words cutting through the air like a blade. "But tell me, Luxana, what good is a bright future when you've never tasted the bitterness of the shadows?"
The atmosphere in the room was thick with an unsettling tension, a palpable darkness that seemed to pulse with malevolence. Shadows writhed in the corners, eager to consume the last remnants of light, and I stood my ground, a fierce sentinel against the encroaching gloom. My voice cut through the silence, sharp and unyielding.
"I must concede that your viewpoint possesses a degree of validity," I began, my tone cold as steel. "Nevertheless, I feel compelled to inquire—what virtue lies in surrendering oneself to the consuming embrace of shadows if, in doing so, one fails to appreciate the invigorating respiration afforded by the radiant luminosity of the light?" Each word dripped with contempt, a challenge laced with venom.
He scoffed, a sound that reverberated ominously like distant thunder. "Ah, but what good is breathing in the light if it only reminds you of the depths you'll sink to again?" His voice was smooth yet laced with a sinister undertone that sent a shiver down my spine.
A chilling smile twisted my lips, devoid of warmth. "Then let me drown—because even in the depths, I'll learn to breathe where you cannot." My glare intensified, a fierce blaze that dared him to respond.
His smile morphed into something darker, a siren's call wrapped in shadows. "And when you do, I'll be waiting in those depths—not to save you, but to drag you down further." The words dripped from his lips like poison, each syllable weaving a tapestry of dread that threatened to ensnare me.
The shadows pulsed around us as if alive, eager witnesses to our confrontation. With sudden ferocity, I reached out and seized his face, my fingers digging into his skin with a promise of violence. I pressed our foreheads together, our breaths mingling in the charged air heavy with unspoken threats.
"Orduan prest egon...ez nautelako arrastaka eramango. Sakonera hautsiko dut eta nirekin eramango zaitut, Ene Aita maitea." The ancient words flowed from my lips like an incantation forged in fury—a declaration of war against the darkness he embodied.
{Translation: "Then be ready—because I won't be dragged. I'll tear the depths apart and take you with me, My Beloved Father."}
*Basque - The Imperial Language of Domino*
His response was equally haunting, echoing through the air like a dark promise wrapped in malice. "Ongi. Gutxienez, sakonak garrasi egingo dituzu biok irentsi baino lehen, Ene Maite."
{Translation: "Good. At least you'll make the depths scream before they devour us both, My Love."}
The gentleness with which he took my left hand felt like a cruel mockery against the backdrop of our fierce exchange. He kissed it softly—a gesture that sent chills racing up my arm and ignited a fire in my chest.
I let out a sigh that was both exasperation and resignation as I processed this unexpected gesture.
"My beloved," he said softly, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that felt almost predatory. "Is there something you desire?" His fingers lingered on my skin as he placed my left hand back against his cheek—a gesture meant to convey affection but felt more like an invitation into darkness.
"Answers. Answers to my questions, father." Our foreheads remained touching, an intimate connection fraught with tension and unspoken threats.
In that moment, surrounded by shadows and illuminated only by the dying light filtering through the windows, I realized we were two souls bound by blood yet divided by ambition and fear. Whatever answers lay ahead would not come without cost; they would demand sacrifice and perhaps even madness. But I was ready to plunge into the abyss if it meant uncovering the truth lurking within our shared darkness—a truth that could shatter us both or forge an unbreakable bond amidst chaos.
My words hung in the air, heavy with implication. "If so, then accompany me tomorrow. I shall unveil all the answers you seek," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down my spine. He caressed my palm against his face, the intimacy of his touch both inviting and unsettling. "But be warned—the price is hefty."
I tilted my head slightly, my eyes igniting with a fierce glow. I kept my palm resting against his cheek, yet my thoughts began to shift like shadows in the night. If I was to judge him, I needed to peer into the depths of his intentions—what kind of dark brew was simmering in that cunning mind of his?
"Very well then, I shall play along," I replied, my voice steady and unyielding, revealing none of the turmoil that churned within.
A smile crept across his lips, chilling and predatory, as he rose with deliberate grace, placing his hands on his thighs. "Then I shall see you tomorrow," he said, his smile widening as he gently grasped my chin, compelling me to meet his gaze. His eyes were deep wells of mystery, promising both revelation and peril.
"And remember," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that sent a thrill through me, "the truth can be a double-edged sword."
With that haunting reminder lingering in the air, he finally stepped back and left my room, the door closing behind him with a soft yet final click. The moment he was gone, silence enveloped me like a shroud.
Tomorrow would bring answers—answers I craved but feared in equal measure. I steeled myself for what lay ahead, knowing that this dance with shadows could lead to either enlightenment or destruction. In this treacherous game we played, every move mattered, and I was determined to emerge unscathed.
To be Continued...