"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."
— Edmund Burke
"So… how is it?" I asked, clasping my hands together as I watched my father read the completed first draft of my novel.
He was the first person to see it—before the publisher, before anyone else. My excitement was practically buzzing in the air.
"Hmm."
"Say something," I urged, unable to wait any longer.
He shut the laptop and leaned back in his chair. "It's unfair."
"Unfair?" My excitement faded. "What do you mean?"
"Dante, this story is…" He rolled his eyes and gave me a serious nod. "It's a masterpiece. You've spent years building this world—the characters, the plot—it's all brilliant."
I exhaled in relief. "Then what's unfair?"
"Theron," he said, crossing his arms. "He's first chosen as a saint, then cursed. His mother dies because of Eloven. He inherits the throne to wage war against Eloven, becomes a tyrant because of his trauma, and is ultimately killed by the protagonist. Then Magnus is given a second chance at life by Eloven. Fine, I understand that. But in the second life…"
I tilted my head, curious. "What about the second life? Magnus saves the empire. Theron no longer becomes a tyrant. The empire flourishes. What's unfair about that?"
"Unfair is that even in the second life, Theron doesn't get a happy ending."
I blinked, confused. "Why would he? Theron is evil. Why should I give him a happy ending?"
Dad leaned forward, his gaze steady. "He was evil—in his first life. But in the second life, he hasn't done anything wrong. Tell me, Dante: is it fair for Magnus to make Theron suffer for sins he doesn't even remember committing? To despise him before he's done anything at all?"
His words sank in; they felt… heavy.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
What if you were born into a world where someone hated you, where your life was destined for ruin—all because of actions you didn't remember and had never committed? Wouldn't that be… unfair?
The thought pierced at me.
The next morning, I brought it up again. "You might have a point, Dad. But Theron is still evil. And besides, I doubt my readers will overthink this as much as you do." I chuckled, trying to brush it off.
"It's your story," Dad said, laughing softly. "Don't change a thing. It's just a thought. Still… if I were Theron, I'd be pretty pissed off about it."
His words lingered.
It was Magnus's story, after all. Everything revolved around him. Why should it matter?
But for the first time, I wasn't so sure.
…
"Magic, I want to learn magic." I looked down at the kneeling Theron below, his head moving as he looked sternly into my eyes.
"Magic is something you must be born with," Theron said, his tone serious.
"You were not born with it, were you?" I said.
He stood up, shocked, possibly wondering how I would know so much about this.
"I was indeed blessed by divinity, as you say. I invoked magic within myself." He turned around, walking away.
I let out a sigh.
"If I sought to learn magic, even an Imperial Mage would instruct me without hesitation, without demand for payment." I paused, my gaze steady. "But that would be if I possessed a mana core. Only you hold the knowledge of how one devoid of magical affinity might ascend to the rank of mage."
"Is that the price you demand of me, in exchange for my mother's lifeless, cold, frozen corpse?"
Theron chuckled in pain as he put his hand upon his eyes and let out a sigh. "Unfortunately for you, that is quite impossible. I was able to invoke magic only after being cursed and stripped of my divinity."
"I never said I wanted to keep mine." Thunder lunged into the sky, and everything fell quiet.
"What?" Shock mixed with fear upon his face, perhaps I came off too determined.
The curtains moved—it was a maid. "My apologies, Your Holiness. Her Majesty has called upon you in the third resting chamber," her voice broke as she spoke.
Her body hinted fear, and it told me everything.
"You heard everything, didn't you?" My glare made her shiver.
"No- Your Holiness, I arrived this moment itself-"
I walked closer, now inches away. Not a word said before she confessed herself.
"I… please spare me, Your Holiness." In a split second falling upon her knees, hands clasped as she begged.
One small misstep could unravel everything; there was no room for error, no thread left to chance.
I tilted my head back and looked towards Theron. "We have a deal now, do we not? Ask your little shadow assassin to take care of this thing first."
"YOUR HOLINESS! Mercy, Your Holiness..." Her body shivered. "I did not hear a thing, Your Holiness." Her tears dripped on the floor. "I'll do anything, Your Holiness!"
"Anything?" I smirked.
"You're scary," Theron muttered.
"Didn't you learn how to make a crimson oath not too long ago?" I looked toward Theron.
Crimson oath, an oath tied by blood. One where the other party cannot disobey.
"Yess, I did!" His excitement broke. "Wait, how do you know?"
"Oath with her so she doesn't open her mouth. She's the Empress's maid. It would come in handy."
"Wha-what? Your Highness, no, please, have mercy! I shall remain loyal, even without the oath!" Her voice broke.
"Why should I do what you're saying?" Theron said; he sure had his ego to keep.
"Don't! Watch her announce it to everybody that you're a blood mage!"
"Fuck you, dumb bitch, what a hassle." Theron pulled her. "Stand straight," he commanded, his voice cold as ice. "Give me your finger." He pulled her finger and drew out blood, piercing it with a dagger.
Drops of blood fell upon the floor as he drew his own blood out. The ritual began with his chants echoing, yet it felt as if only we could hear it.
A red magic circle formed on the ground, covering nearly half of the balcony. The blood drops merged, turning black, like stones, within seconds.
His magic was different, unlike any blood mage I had witnessed in any of my lives.
He picked up the stone and kept it to himself. The maid's eye balls turned red as her feet faltered. "Your… Your Highness…"
"I didn't even ask your name." Theron smirked.
"My name… it's Mira."
"Good. Now, get out. Be sure not to stumble on your way."
He pushed her. "That would create other unwelcomed problems," Theron muttered.
"What in fuck's sake did I do in my past life to deserve being asked to make a lowly commoner maid swear my sacred oath?"
He clenched his fist.
"Perhaps you were a crazy tyrant," I chuckled.
"What's funny?" I ignored him.
Her name was… Mira. With 14 lives I lived, along with two lives Magnus lived in the original novel, it was difficult to remember at times, each little thing that happened.
After more than a thousand years, my memory had been mixed, with different events in different lives to different characters.
Perhaps why I couldn't remember, but the name… Mira—I had heard of it before. Was she one of the main characters? I couldn't remember.
"Escort me to Her Majesty. She called for me, correct?"
"Y-yes, Your Holiness!" she quivered.
Ariadne… the reason for Lucian's death. I was hoping I would be able to avoid meeting her today one-to-one.