"From now on, you are nothing.
And you will always remain like that.
Whatever you have, it will all be mine."
–CREAK!
As the door was closed, the darkness returned once again.
–SOB!
I could still hear the sobbing of the girl who had been subjected to such feelings.
'...'
Elara.
The protagonist of the story.
The subject of the tragedy.
The young woman whose everything was taken by the very people that she had trusted.
And Lucavion.
The Isolde's fiancée.
That is me.
"Kurgh-!"
An immense headache struck me once again because continuous memories erupted in my head.
On a sunny afternoon in a lush garden, she sat on a bench with her usual frail demeanor. "Lucavion, please knead my hair," she requested softly, her voice filled with a delicate sweetness.
It was weird.
'Is this the same voice?'
How could a person have such different sides? Which one was real?
The answer was already revealed before me, though it was hard to accept it.
At that time, I just did what I was taught to. Isn't it right to show care to those who need it?
"Of course, Isolde." I sat beside her and gently ran my fingers through her hair, feeling the silkiness between my fingers.
Even now, I can remember that same silkiness.
But was that true?
Those memories.
Were they really mine?
Am I Lucavion?
Or am I...
Who was I in the first place?
'What? What was the name?'
I couldn't recall it.
"Urghk-!"
My headache worsened a lot more.
RUMBLE!
As well as the rumbling of my stomach. It was as if something was churning there as if my body was trying to throw something out of it.
Then, the same memory appeared in my head once again.
I was lying down, my head resting on the lap of her.
Her 'gentle' touch soothed my aching head, and I felt a sense of calm wash over me. She caressed my hair, her fingers moving with a tenderness that made the pain fade away.
"Lucavion," she whispered, her voice soft and sweet. "You love me, right?"
I tried to respond, but my voice felt distant as if it belonged to someone else. "Yeah, I love you, Isolde."
The smile was supposed to be radiant, yet now it looked as if it was the fake light of the moon.
"You believe in me, right?"
"Of course, Isolde," I heard myself say, the words feeling both familiar and strange. "I believe in you."
Yet, that feeling of strangeness.
I could now understand it.
It was my body that was warning me at that time.
"Good," she said softly. "Because you and I are meant to be together, always."
Just as in the dream, the nauseating feeling rose from my chest once again.
RUMBLE!
My stomach rumbled and churred.
"So, my Lucavion. Will you drink this for me?"
And she showed that thing to my face.
That thing that constantly made me want to puke.
"I will do anything for you."
And that moment.
"Urghk—!"
I couldn't hold it back any longer. The nausea overwhelmed me, and I threw up, the disgusting liquid spilling out onto the cold, stone floor of the cell.
"Orghk—!"
It felt like my insides were being wrung out, every drop of bile and acid forcing its way up and out of my body. I heaved again and again until there was nothing left but dry retching and the acrid taste of vomit in my mouth.
My body shook with the effort, and I collapsed back against the wall, gasping for breath. The memories, the pain, the betrayal—they all swirled together in a nauseating vortex that left me dizzy and weak.
As I lay there, trying to steady my breath, I noticed something moving in the pool of vomit. My eyes widened in horror as I saw a centipede writhing and squirming its way out of the mess. It was long, segmented, and grotesque, its many legs scuttling over the stone floor.
"Wh-what...?" I muttered, my voice shaking. The sight was revolting, and a chill ran down my spine.
I reached out, trying to grab it, to smash it, to do anything to stop it from moving. But my fingers were too slow, too weak, and the centipede slipped through my grasp, disappearing into the shadows of the cell.
Before I could react further, the door creaked open, and the blinding light pierced through the darkness, making me squint and cover my eyes.
"Get up," a gruff voice commanded, cutting through the haze of my disorientation.
I tried to push myself up, my body protesting with every movement. The light was harsh, and as my eyes adjusted, I saw the silhouette of a guard standing in the doorway.
"What...?" I managed to ask, my voice hoarse.
"You're being moved," the guard replied curtly, stepping aside to make way for another figure.
The new figure stepped into the cell, and I saw it was a face that didn't feel unfamiliar.
The face was something I had seen before.
'...Who…..'
I asked myself.
The answer came from the guard.
"Sir Alistair came here to take you out."
The moment the name came out of the guard's mouth, I realized who this was. It was my elder brother.
Alistair Thorne. The heir of the family.
Hope ignited in my heart. I opened my mouth to greet him, but before I could speak, suddenly, a fire ignited right before my face, and it burned fiercely.
"Argh-!"
I pushed myself back from the flames, my heart pounding with fear.
Following that, I heard a cold voice saying,
"Do not ever try to speak, you worm."
The voice was icy, and as I raised my eyes, I saw Alistair's gaze fixed on me with intense disdain. His eyes were sharp, unforgiving, and filled with contempt.
At that moment, I realized I was not in a good position at all.
"….." I wanted to say something, but the words died in my throat as the flames flickered menacingly closer.
"Silence," Alistair hissed, his expression darkening. "You…..After all the things that you have done…You have no right to speak….."
The hope that had briefly flickered in my heart was extinguished, replaced by a cold dread.
"..."
Thus, I decided not to make anything complicated since nothing would matter anyway.
"Take him," I heard Alistair commanding the people behind him.
–TAK!
–TAK!
–TAK!
Following that, the sound of metal hitting the ground could be heard. As I looked, I could see the light reflecting from the armor they wore.
And the insignia right on their chest.
It was a familiar one.
The insignia of Thorne Viscounty.
Insignia of my family.
They were the Thorne family's knights.
The knights grabbed me roughly by my arms. Was there a need to do such a thing? After all, it was not like I could escape from here right now, and not like I wanted to do so.
And these guys were supposed to serve us, weren't they?
"I can walk by myself," I protested.
Instead of replying with words, another burst of fire ignited near my face, scorching my mouth. The intense heat and pain forced me to recoil, choking back a cry of pain.
I looked up to see Alistair's cold eyes locked onto me, and I quickly averted my gaze, understanding that no mercy would come from him.
I shut my mouth, realizing that speaking would only bring more pain.
Yeah, it was time to accept it right now.
From now on, I would not be treated as a normal human being but as a criminal that would need to be punished.
Until I cleared my name, at least, it was not like it was impossible or anything. If I can drag people on my side, if I can talk to them to at least explain my situation, I think they will believe me.
Though it will be hard, they are my family.
Right, let's keep ourselves silent for a while. When the time comes, we can talk. This is not the place to do so.
"Move."
The knights dragged me forward, their grips like iron. Each step was a struggle, my body still weak and trembling from the ordeal.
But, just before we left the place, I made eye contact with the girl in the other cell.
Elara.
Her clear blue eyes were now filled with redness, most likely because of the tears that she had shed.
Yet, as we made eye contact, her eyes took on a different shape. A glint was there. A glint that I had just seen in another person's eyes.
The glint of hatred.
It was a raw, burning hatred that cut through the haze of my own confusion and pain. Elara's gaze was piercing, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that left no room for misunderstanding.
She hated me.
'Right…..'
Not that it mattered now since I could do nothing to change it.
–CREAK!
The door closed once again as we left the confinement room or whatever it was.
The corridor outside the cell was dimly lit, the walls closing in around me as if to emphasize the hopelessness of my situation.
We emerged into a larger, grander corridor, the light here brighter and more oppressive. I could hear the murmurs of others and feel their eyes on me, judging, condemning.
The weight of their disdain pressed down on me, and I struggled to keep my head up to maintain some semblance of dignity.
The knights led me outside, where a carriage awaited. But instead of being placed inside, I was roughly handled and thrown into the luggage compartment.
The floor was rough, and every bump and jolt of the carriage was magnified by the uncomfortable ride.
I lay there, the rough wood digging into my back, every movement causing more discomfort. The reality of my situation was stark and unforgiving.
I was a prisoner, a criminal in the eyes of my family and everyone around me.
But, still.
If I could clear my name.
No, I needed to.
Since that was the only way.
Since there was no mention of Lucavion in the novel, I was free to carve my fate right.
Or was there a mention?
I couldn't remember.
And I was tired.
'It is fine if I sleep a little, right?'
Well, there was no one to answer that question anyway, so I just closed my eyes.
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