As the sun crept over the horizon, spreading a warm glow over the cobbled streets, Victor walked alongside Verina. He tried to project an air of ease with smiles and jokes, but Verina saw through the facade. Behind his eyes lurked worry and deep thoughts. She hesitated, unsure how to broach what had happened at the stream.
"You're not going to tell me who the man was?" Verina asked with caution.
Silence followed.
"If you don't want to tell me I-"
"It was my father's assistant." Victor finally spoke, his voice laced with hesitation and caution. It was clear he didn't want to share. Why?
"He is truly loyal to my father," he continued, "like a dog." His chuckle was hollow, barely masking the gravity of the situation.
Verina sensed the weight behind his words. "A loyal dog can bite too." She remarked, her tone serious.
He nodded, his expression darkening. "He's... involved in things. Unsavory things. But it's complicated."
"Complicated how?" Verina pressed gently.
Victor hesitated, his gaze flitting over the cobblestones as if searching for the right words. "Let's just say he does what my father needs him to do. I can't change that."
"You can't carry that burden alone," Verina stopped, turning to face him, "You know? My mother always said that sharing your worries is the first step to finding a solution."
He was surprised by her sudden transparency. "What happened to you? Are you really Verina?" He asked with a hint of amusement tinged with genuine curiosity.
Verina raised an eyebrow, a mix of confusion and determination washing over her.
"Of course I'm me. What kind of question is that?"
Victor's smile faded slightly, revealing the seriousness lurking beneath. "It's just... You seem different. More insightful. Like you've seen things that have changed you."
"Maybe I have," she replied. "But I'm still the same Verina. I'm just trying to understand what's happening around us."
He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident. "It's not that simple, Verina. My world is messy—full of secrets and shadows. And I don't want to pull you into it."
"Too late for that," she said firmly, her eyes locking onto his. "You already have me here."
Victor looked away, the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing heavily on him. "I wish it were that easy. But I don't want you to get hurt because of me."
"I'd rather be hurt knowing the truth than be kept in the dark," Verina replied. "You don't have to share everything, but a little honesty would go a long way."
He paused, considering her words, before giving a reluctant nod. "I'll think about it. But you have to promise me something in return."
"Okay, what?"
"Promise that you will be safe," he said, worry creeping back into his voice.
"Only if you promise to be careful," she countered, a small smile breaking through the tension.
"Deal," he said, though the concern still lingered in his eyes. As they approached Verina's door, she paused, turning to face Victor.
"Thank you for tonight," she said, her voice sincere. "I know things are complicated, but I appreciate you being here."
Victor offered a small smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
She nodded softly. "And remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here too."
He hesitated, as if weighing his words. "I'll keep that in mind."
With that, she reached for the door handle, glancing back at him. "Goodnight, Victor."
"Goodnight, Verina," he replied, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned to leave, the weight of unspoken thoughts still heavy in the air.
As she closed the door behind her, Verina leaned against it, reflecting on the night. Despite the darkness looming around Victor, she felt a flicker of hope that perhaps they could navigate the complexities ahead…together.
For Victor, the path home stretched like a corridor of despair. With each step, the warmth of the festival faded, replaced by the cold grip of dread. He replayed Verina's words in his mind, her insistence on honesty echoing within him, but as he entered the estate, the familiar dread clutched at his heart. His father's shadow loomed in the dim light of the hallway, eyes cold and unyielding.
"Victor," he commanded, voice like ice. "Come here."
Victor's heart sank, an anchor pulling him into a stormy sea. He approached, bracing himself for the inevitable. "You think you can have fun with a commoner while your duties wait? You are a soldier—my soldier, not a child playing games."
Each word pierced him, sharper than the finest steel. They were a reminder of his place, the unyielding expectations that shackled him. "I was—"
"Silence!" his father thundered, the anger resonating in the walls like a death knell. "You will learn your place."
With a grip like iron, he dragged Victor to the training room, a place that had once been a sanctuary but now felt like a prison. Each step felt heavier, the air thick with an impending storm. Victor's chest tightened, a mixture of fear and defiance surging within him. He longed to plead for understanding, to share the joy he had felt with Verina, but those words crumbled under the weight of his father's wrath.
As the punishment began, Victor braced himself, each strike landing hard against his flesh like a thunderclap, reverberating through his bones. The pain shot through him, a searing line of fire that ignited with each blow, twisting his muscles into knots of agony. He gritted his teeth, determined not to cry out, but the sharp gasps escaped him, mingling with the bitter taste of blood in his mouth. The sharp pain radiated through him, mixing with the emotional turmoil swirling in his chest—a tempest of rage, sorrow, and despair.
What he couldn't voice, what he dared not think, was the truth—each hit felt like a piece of his soul being chipped away. The memories of Verina's laughter haunted him, a bittersweet melody that twisted the knife deeper. Each blow was a reminder of his helplessness, a reminder that he was trapped in this family legacy, a puppet bound to strings he couldn't sever.
"Don't you understand? You only humiliate me and the name of our legacy," his father growled after what felt like an eternity, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Your actions reflect on our family. I know you think it harsh, but strength is essential to uphold our name. You are bound to this family of Arenthis, and I must ensure you understand that."
The final blow landed, and Victor crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. The physical pain was sharp, but it was the emotional torment that broke him. The betrayal of his own blood stung more than any wound inflicted by a sword.
Then, anger overtook him. It was not anger at his father. He was angry at himself. How could he give hope to Verina… to himself? How could he give hope that they could be free from the prison of their lives when he knew he was destined to be a 'slave' to his family name?
The silence of the room was deafening, a stark contrast to the vibrant laughter he had shared with Verina. With each breath, he could almost hear her voice, a haunting reminder of the joy he had let slip through his fingers.
"I want to dance with you again, Verina…"
As the candle flickered in the dim light of her room, Verina lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the night replayed in her mind, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. She thought of Victor—his struggles, the burdens he carried, and the darkness that seemed to envelop him. A sense of helplessness gnawed at her, intertwining with her own fears and uncertainties.
The warmth of the festival felt like a distant memory, replaced by the cold grip of worry. With a heavy sigh, she turned onto her side, trying to shake off the weight of her thoughts.
But sleep came slowly, dragging her into a fog that blurred the lines between reality and dreams. As her eyelids grew heavier, she felt herself slip away, the familiar sensation of being drawn into the mist pulling her under.
Verina stood in the familiar fog-shrouded forest, but something was different this time. The usual sense of suffocation and dread was absent. The ground beneath her feet felt solid, and the thick fog parted as she moved, allowing her to see further ahead.
For the first time, she felt in control, the eerie silence was no longer oppressive but curious. No shadows were calling to her, no ominous figures lurking in the dark. Just her and the forest. It was a strange peace, unlike anything she had felt in these dreams before.
She moved forward, her steps deliberate, as if testing the boundaries of this newfound freedom. The forest seemed to respond to her presence. The trees no longer loomed like threats but swayed gently, their branches brushing the fog as though bowing in acknowledgement.
In the silence, as Verina walked, a woman's soft humming gradually emerged. It was a soft, beautiful melody. Like a lullaby and oddly familiar. It tugged at the edge of her memory, a distant echo of something she should know but couldn't quite place.
"Where are you leading me?" she whispered, half to herself, half to whatever force seemed to guide her.
Then, up ahead, through the thinning fog, she saw a figure. Unlike the shadows from before, this figure stood still, its outline bathed in soft light. Verina's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to walk closer, her curiosity outweighing her fear.
When she was within a few paces of the figure, she stopped. It was that woman, tall and cloaked in a shimmering, silver veil that seemed to float in the air.
"Who are you?" Verina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman did not move. But in the silence, her voice echoed through the fog.
"You will not find what you seek by asking the wrong questions."
Verina blinked, confusion and frustration swirling in her chest.
"Then what should I ask?"
The figure tilted her head slightly, as though considering the question. "You must ask what is your fear," she replied, her voice as calm and ethereal as the mist around them.
Verina's breath caught. The sensation of the drowning returned briefly, tightening her chest, but she pushed it down. "I fear... not knowing," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "Not understanding why I'm here."
"Then that is the journey you must take, Verina. Only by confronting what you fear can you grasp the truth."
Verina stepped back, her mind racing with questions, but the woman's form began to fade. "Wait—what is the truth? What am I supposed to find?"
"Your true purpose in this life."
The woman's voice came as a whisper, the final sound before her image dissolved completely into the fog.
"What? What does it mean?" Verina's heart was beating heavily. She needed to know the answer. "Please wait!"
She wanted to run to the place where the woman stood. But before she could make a few steps, she fell through the earth.
She was drowning in the lake again. Verina no longer tried to escape the dark embrace of the depths. But just as the pressure became unbearable, a sudden burst of light erupted from below. She gasped, her mouth filling with air rather than water.
She awoke, gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest.
"The purpose of my life?"