When Roran woke up, the sky was just beginning to brighten. He had fallen unconscious at sunset and awakened at dawn. He looked around for a while but saw nothing. Neither the Dukhe he had fought nor Lucia was there. He quickly stood up and started running, heading toward Lucia's house. Yet something felt different—he could feel something stirring inside him: fear.
Yes, he was afraid, but beyond just feeling it, he could see it—black, pitch-dark flames flickering inside him. He fell to his knees, bewildered. He could see the flames, but they didn't obscure his vision; they simply existed within him. He looked around, but everything seemed normal. Still, the growing fear inside him, accompanied by the intensifying dark flames, was undeniable.
However, he couldn't worry about that now. Where was Lucia? He scrambled to his feet again and resumed running toward her house. Every part of his body screamed in pain, but he didn't stop. He stumbled, fell, and got back up, pushing himself toward Lucia's house with all his strength.
When he finally arrived, he collapsed to his knees at the doorstep. The house looked just as it always did. He burst through the door, gasping for air. Leaning against the frame to catch his breath, he suddenly heard Aunt Layla's voice:
"Roran, what happened, my boy? Are you okay?"
Roran lifted his head and silently looked at Aunt Layla, who was preparing breakfast. After taking two more deep breaths, his eyes filled with tears, and he asked:
"Aunt Layla... Lucia... Is Lucia here?"
Aunt Layla froze for a moment, surprised, and then replied:
"Yes, she's in her room, sleeping. But where have you been, child?"
When Roran heard this, a wave of immense relief washed over him. The pitch-black flames he had been seeing seemed to vanish in an instant. As he tried to catch his breath again, another flicker of those dark flames ignited inside him, and he asked:
"And the Dukhes... are they still here?"
Aunt Layla's expression shifted, revealing her displeasure at the mention of the Dukhes' presence. She sighed and said:
"Yes, they're still here. They're staying in the large room we gave them—so if you're going to see Lucia, you'd better keep quiet. Understood?"
Roran, with the faint black flame still flickering within him, nodded in acknowledgment and quickly walked toward Lucia's room. He stopped at the door and knocked gently. From inside, he heard Lucia's sad and weary voice say:
"I'm not available."
Hearing her voice filled Roran with an incredible sense of relief. He knocked again, this time softly replying:
"It's me, Roran."
After a moment of silence, sounds of movement came from inside. Soon, the door unlocked, and Lucia appeared. Her eyes were swollen and glistening with tears, her face marked with exhaustion, and her under-eyes reddened from crying. As soon as she opened the door, she collapsed into Roran's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
The moment she embraced him, Roran felt the dark flames within him smothered by a brilliant light, an overwhelming sense of peace and gratitude. It was then that he realized—this radiant, calming light was fueled by the gratitude he felt in his heart. The more this feeling grew, the brighter the light became.
Roran held Lucia tightly, guiding her gently back into the room while closing the door behind them. As she clung to him and cried her heart out, Roran silently stroked her head, his expression soft yet tinged with sadness. Despite everything, a sincere, comforting smile played on his lips.
After holding her close for a while, Roran continued to stroke her hair gently and said:
"We'll never be apart, right?"
Lucia's crying had subsided; she now let out a soft hiccup, followed by a gentle hum of agreement. Hearing this, Roran carefully lifted her up by her arms and looked into her face. Her teary eyes and flushed cheeks made her resemble a fragile doll.
He pulled her into another embrace, but this time, with a playful glint in his eye, he jumped onto the bed with her in his arms. The sudden motion startled Lucia, and she let out a small scream before collapsing into giggles as they both landed on the bed.
Roran was laughing too, though his body was screaming in pain. Every muscle in his body burned, every bruise throbbed, but none of it mattered. For now, this was enough.
As their laughter faded, Lucia nestled closer into his chest. Roran was about to pinch her cheeks teasingly when he noticed something—she had fallen asleep. Her breathing had slowed, and her expression softened. It seemed like she hadn't slept at all the previous night, and now, finally feeling safe, she had drifted off into a deep slumber.
Roran stayed still, watching her peaceful face for what felt like hours—perhaps two, though it passed in the blink of an eye for him.
His trance was broken by the sound of Barty's voice from behind the door:
"Lucia, wake up, it's time for breakfast."
Hearing this, Roran gently shook Lucia by her shoulders. Slowly, she opened her eyes, gazing at him as if to say, "What is it?"
Roran softly replied, "Come on, breakfast is ready."
Reluctantly, Lucia sat up, threw on something presentable, and they both left the room together.
When they reached the kitchen, Aunt Layla, Uncle Barty, and Dukhe's parents were already seated at the table, quietly eating. Roran and Lucia took their places, joining the meal. For the first few minutes, the only sound was the clinking of utensils and muffled conversation.
Then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway. Each step ignited a flame inside Roran—a red, searing fire fueled by his anger.
The one entering was Dukhe. He walked in silently, hiding his face behind one hand, and took a seat at the table without a word.
Dukhe's father, with his deep and commanding voice, broke the tense silence:
"What happened, Dukhe? Why are you hiding your face from us?"
Dukhe ignored his father and continued eating in silence.
Furious, his father stood up abruptly, grabbed Dukhe by the wrist, and forcefully pulled his hand away to reveal the bruised and wounded face underneath. Seeing this, his father's anger flared even more, and he yelled loudly:
"Who did this to you?!"
Dukhe still said nothing, staring defiantly into his father's angry eyes. The tension was palpable. His father clenched his fist in frustration, letting go of Dukhe's wrist. Then, as if to collect himself, he wiped his hand with a handkerchief and commanded:
"We're leaving in an hour because of your behavior. Is that clear?!"
Dukhe's face twisted with fury, as if he was about to retaliate verbally, but he held back, saying nothing as he sat back down.
His father, now visibly irritated, finished his meal quickly and turned to Uncle Barty.
"We'll need to move our discussion up a bit, Barty. Everyone else, out. And as for you, Dukhe, we'll talk later."
After this, Roran and Lucia immediately stood up and left the house. As they were just about to distance themselves, the door behind them slammed open with a loud thud. Dukhe stormed out, quickly closing the gap to Lucia and clasping her hands tightly between his own.
Lucia froze, her face a mask of terror as she looked up at Dukhe. The horrifying events of the previous day replayed vividly in her mind, draining the color from her cheeks as if her very soul were being sucked away.
Roran, on the other hand, stood silently, his face utterly devoid of emotion but intimidating nonetheless. Inside him, crimson flames of anger swirled in perfect harmony with the black flames of his fear, creating a deadly storm within.
Dukhe tightened his grip on Lucia's hands, causing her to let out a faint whimper of pain. The sound pierced Roran's ears, and in an instant, he lunged forward, raising his fist high. The crimson flames inside him completely drowned out the black ones as he aimed to strike Dukhe with all his might.
But just as Roran's fist was about to connect, he felt a devastating blow land square in the center of his chest. The impact sent him flying backward, slamming him into the ground and leaving him breathless.
"Know your place, you worthless peasant. Just because you got one lucky hit when I let my guard down doesn't mean you can get cocky."
After saying this, Dukhe locked eyes with Roran, who was struggling to catch his breath on the ground. A cold smirk spread across Dukhe's face as he tightened his grip on Lucia's hands even more.
Lucia winced in pain, her cries growing louder with each squeeze. The sound of her anguish was like fuel to the crimson flames raging inside Roran, flaring higher and hotter with every scream.
Finally, Dukhe stopped squeezing, though his hands remained locked around Lucia's trembling fingers. He stood there in silence for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before speaking again:
"I enjoy touching hands more, but i guess you peasents enjot this one more."
Dukhe said this and started squeezing Lucia's chest. The moment Roran saw this, the crimson flames inside him turned blood red, and he leapt at Dukhe. However, Dukhe didn't even flinch, pinning him to the ground again with invisible hands, continuing to violate Lucia.
With each squeeze, Lucia writhed in pain and let out soft screams. Roran, with the last bit of strength left in his body, which was now screaming in agony, managed to rise once more and lunged at Dukhe. But this time, Dukhe slammed him to the ground harder. It felt like there were hands pressing down on all four of his limbs, pinning him completely. Helpless, Roran could only watch.
What was only a few seconds felt like hours to Roran. Finally, Dukhe let go of Lucia, who collapsed to her knees with her disheveled clothes. As Dukhe turned to walk back toward the house, the crimson flames inside Roran began to darken and blacken, becoming something thicker, like a sticky, dark liquid dripping slowly around him.
Still pinned to the ground, Roran screamed after Dukhe:
"I WILL KILL YOU, NO MATTER WHAT, DEMON OR EVEN GOD HİMSELF GOT AGAINST ME, I WILL KILL YOU NO MATTER WHAT."
Dukhe paid no attention as he walked to the front door of the house and stopped there, lifting the pressure off Roran. He then slightly turned his head towards Roran and said:
"I'd love to see you try, my dear Roran."
After saying this, he entered the house. Roran immediately tried to get up and rush after him, but the pain in his body wouldn't allow him to move even a gram. He lay there, helpless, and began to cry. Despite everything, Lucia came over to Roran, gently placed his head on her lap, and began softly crying alongside him.
About half an hour later
The Dukhe family climbed into their ornate carriage in front of the door. Dukhe glanced one last time at Roran, who was watching them from the side. A devilish—no, a worse-than-devilish smile spread across his face. Roran's face showed no expression, but his eyes, his eyes were burning with a fire more intense than ever before. The moment that brief exchange was interrupted came with the voice of Dukhe's father:
"Until our next meeting, goodbye, Barty."
After this, Uncle Barty slightly bowed forward and replied:
"See you, Count Arkhar von Durean."
And with that, the carriage sped away from the village, leaving Lucia to sit lightly beside Roran, and Roran, with the fire burning in his eyes, and the dark crimson flame still within him.