It's been a month since I returned home, and things have only spiraled downhill. The tension is suffocating. At first, I thought it was just another power struggle—some medieval squabble over land or resources. But I was wrong.
These humans don't just want to conquer us. They want to erase us. Every last one of us. And it hasn't even been that long since I was reborn into this world.
I can't help but think back to my previous life. I still remember the searing pain, the agony of bleeding out. I close my eyes, willing the memory away. Not now. Not here. This place is bad enough without revisiting that nightmare.
I throw off the wool blanket and swing my legs to the cold stone floor. The icy bite against my feet is a sharp reminder that I'm far from any comfort. Pushing myself up, I walk over to the mirror, squinting against the morning light. As I pass the metal rod propped against the wall, I flick my wrist instinctively. A gust of wind snaps through the air, slicing the rod clean in half.
The pieces clatter to the ground.
I smirk as they fall. Wind magic. I didn't even have to try.
Leaving the broken rod behind, I head to my adjoining bathroom. After a long, hot wash, I feel more grounded, more like myself. Back in the room, my clothes are laid out: a crisp shirt, dark trousers, and the red long coat that screams "demon prince." I slip on the shirt, fastening the buttons with a practiced precision, then shrug into the coat.
Today's the day. They're sending me away to some so-called "safe" haven in the western woods.
As I finish buttoning the coat, a knock echoes through the room. "Come in," I call, my voice steady though I feel anything but.
The door creaks open, and my parents, Xedeth and Lara, step inside. They pause, looking at me—really looking at me—and there's something in their eyes I can't quite place.
"Aiden, you look…" my father begins, his voice faltering slightly.
"Strong," my mother finishes, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You've grown so much."
They're holding it together, but there's a weight between us, heavy and ominous. Like a dam about to burst. It doesn't take long. One moment they stand there, proud, and the next, they're in tears.
For a second, I freeze. Then I feel the wetness on my own cheek—just one tear. I hold the rest back.
They pull themselves together, and my mother wipes her eyes. My father places a hand on my shoulder, and together, they guide me down the long hallway to the castle's towering double doors. When we reach the entrance, they push the heavy doors open, revealing what waits outside.
Three figures stand by the carriage. My father steps forward to introduce them.
"Klopeck," he says, gesturing to the goblin at the reins. "He'll be your driver."
Klopeck bows low, his voice gravelly. "Your Majesty."
"Next," my father continues, "Borvak, the troll you've seen around the castle."
I recognize him now—the hulking figure from the back gardens. He nods, offering a brief grunt.
"And finally, Elise." My father motions to the demi-human woman beside Borvak. She stands straight and alert. I've seen her before, though she always kept her distance.
My father turns to them, his expression serious. "Protect my son."
"With our lives," they respond in unison, their voices firm and solemn.
Before I can react, Aurora bursts from the castle, running straight toward me. I brace for impact, and sure enough, she wraps me in a hug that's more of a chokehold.
"I'll miss you, Aiden," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "Please, stay safe."
I hesitate but then let her hold me as long as she wants. Today, I don't push her away.
She pulls back, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She doesn't speak, but she doesn't need to. The fear is written all over her face.
My parents step in for one final hug, silent and heavy with unspoken words. I don't let myself think about what it means.
Without another word, I climb into the carriage. Borvak and Elise take their seats beside me. The door shuts with a dull thud, and the carriage jolts into motion.
There's a window at the front where I can see the road ahead. No view of what's behind.