Adrien's mind buzzed with questions, a thousand different thoughts colliding at once. He had to understand what was happening, why this woman seemed to know so much about him. Gathering his courage, he looked up at her, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.
"How do you know who I am?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to pierce through the veil of mystery that surrounded her. "And what exactly do you want from me?"
The woman regarded him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Who you are, Adrien, is not as simple as you might think," she began, her tone almost dismissive. "You've been marked by forces beyond this world, forces that have given you this power. And it's my job to ensure that power doesn't go to waste."
Adrien frowned, frustration bubbling up inside him. "That doesn't answer my question. How do you know about me? About…whatever this anti-magick is? I didn't even know about it until now."
The woman's cold smile lingered, her eyes sharp and unyielding as she watched Adrien struggle with the weight of her words. Then, as if she were dropping another bombshell, she added, "We also know about your connection to House Lorelei."
Adrien's eyes widened in confusion. "House Lorelei? What are you talking about?"
The woman's gaze remained fixed on him, her expression a mixture of amusement and impatience. "Don't play dumb, Adrien. The bloodline you're connected to, the ties that bind you to the Lorelei name—it's all part of the reason you're here."
"But I don't even know what you mean," Adrien insisted, his mind reeling. "I've never heard of House Lorelei before today. What are you trying to say?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if scrutinizing his every reaction. "You really don't know, do you?" she mused, more to herself than to him. "Interesting. Perhaps you haven't fully awakened to your heritage yet. But rest assured, Adrien, your connection to the Lorelei bloodline is very real—and it's part of what makes you so valuable."
Adrien's frustration boiled over into anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "I'm not a Lorelei," he snapped, his voice trembling with defiance. "I'm a Vesperis. That's my family. I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm not part of whatever this is."
The woman's expression remained calm, almost bemused by his outburst. "You can call yourself whatever you like, Adrien, but the truth remains. Your blood tells a different story, one that's been written long before you were even born."
Adrien's mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked around the room, searching for any possible escape. The grandeur of the throne room, with its high ceilings and imposing columns, felt suffocating now. The walls seemed to close in on him, the ornate decorations and rich tapestries nothing more than obstacles between him and freedom.
His eyes darted to the door he had been brought through, then to the guards standing at attention. He knew he couldn't overpower them, not in his current state, but he couldn't just stand here and accept this madness. There had to be a way out, some crack in the armor of this place that he could exploit.
As Adrien's mind raced, a familiar voice echoed in his thoughts, cutting through the chaos like a knife. It was the voice of the man from the void, the one who had spoken to him before, calm and commanding.
"You need to focus, Adrien," the voice urged, its tone firm but not unkind. "There is a way out, but you must be patient. Look for the weaknesses, the gaps in their defense. Remember what you've observed."
Adrien's breath hitched, the voice grounding him amidst the whirlwind of fear and anger. He forced himself to steady his breathing, to calm his racing heart. The man was right—panic wouldn't get him out of this, but strategy might.
"They're watching you, but they don't know what you're truly capable of," the voice continued, guiding him. "Use that to your advantage. Let them underestimate you."
Adrien's eyes scanned the room again, this time with more focus. The guards were alert, but their attention wasn't fully on him. The woman in white was confident, perhaps too confident in her control over the situation.
"There's a guard to your left, slightly out of position," the voice pointed out. "And the door—there's only one exit, but it's not heavily secured. You'll need to create a distraction, something to draw their attention away."
Adrien's mind began to piece together a plan, his anger giving way to determination. The voice had been right before, and now it was giving him a lifeline, a way to turn the tables.
"When the moment comes, don't hesitate," the voice instructed. "You only have one chance. Make it count."
Adrien felt the tension in the room thickening, every second dragging on as the woman in white watched him with unsettling calm. He knew he couldn't wait any longer—if he stayed, he'd be trapped in their web, bound by their secrets and manipulations.
Now or never, he thought, steeling himself.
He focused on his hand, trying to summon the black magic, the anti-magick he had unleashed before. He willed it to come forth, to break his chains and give him the edge he needed. But nothing happened. His hand remained stubbornly normal, devoid of the dark power he had called upon in desperation.
Panic surged through him, but he pushed it down, eyes darting to the guard on his left. With a quick breath, Adrien sprinted forward, veering past the guard. He heard the shout of alarm, but he didn't stop. His feet pounded against the marble floor, heart racing as he made a mad dash for the exit.
The guard was close behind, but Adrien's smaller size gave him an advantage. He slipped through the gap, the heavy door swinging slightly ajar, and bolted down the corridor.
The voice in his head was silent now, leaving him to rely on his instincts alone. He could hear footsteps echoing, shouts growing louder as more guards were alerted to his escape. But he didn't look back. He couldn't.
"Faster," he urged himself, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Just a little faster."
He rounded a corner, hoping to find a staircase or an open window—anything that could lead to freedom. The hallway stretched out before him, long and daunting, but he didn't waver. He had to keep going, had to find a way out of this nightmare before it closed in on him for good.
As Adrien sprinted down the cold, echoing corridor, his chest heaved with a mix of fear and exhaustion. The adrenaline that had fueled his escape was waning, and with it, the bravado that had kept him moving.
His vision blurred with tears, the imposing walls of the castle seeming to close in on him. The echoes of his footfalls were drowned out by the thudding of his heart, a frantic drumbeat of panic. The rational part of his mind—the one that had belonged to someone else, someone older, in another life—was overwhelmed by a raw, childlike terror.
"I just want to go home," he sobbed, his voice barely more than a whisper as he ran. The image of his parents' faces flashed in his mind, his mother's warm smile, his father's comforting presence. He wanted to feel their arms around him, to hear their voices telling him everything would be alright.
But they weren't here. He was alone, trapped in this terrifying place, pursued by people who wanted to hurt him for reasons he couldn't understand. His feet stumbled, almost tripping over themselves as his tears flowed freely now, streaking his cheeks.
"Mother… Father…," he choked out, the words catching in his throat. The corridors stretched endlessly before him, twisting and turning like the maze of fear in his mind. He didn't know where he was going, just that he had to keep running, had to keep trying to escape.
Adrien's legs burned with the effort of running, his breath ragged as he pushed himself to keep moving, but he was slowing down. The heavy footfalls of the guards were gaining on him, their shouts echoing off the stone walls, growing louder with each passing second.
"Please, no," he whimpered, his voice breaking as he rounded another corner, only to find the hallway stretching on endlessly before him. His young heart pounded in his chest, a frantic rhythm of fear.
He stumbled, his body unable to keep up with the frantic pace of his mind. Before he could recover, a rough hand grabbed him by the arm, yanking him to a halt. Adrien struggled, kicking and twisting, but he was no match for the guard's strength.
"Let go!" he cried, tears streaming down his face, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. The guard's grip tightened, and with a swift motion, he struck Adrien with the hilt of his blade.
Pain exploded in Adrien's head, and the world around him spun into darkness. His small body went limp, the fight drained from him in an instant. As he slumped in the guard's grasp, the last thing he heard was the woman's cold, commanding voice.
"Start preparations," she ordered, her tone as unyielding as stone.
The words echoed in Adrien's mind as consciousness slipped away, leaving him adrift in a sea of darkness and fear. The images of his parents, his home, and the life he longed to return to faded, leaving only a deep, empty void.