As Kaelvhar crouched beneath the table, he strained to hear the conversation between his father, King Andreas, and the other demon.
The air was thick with tension, and Kaelvhar's heart raced as he waited for them to leave the room.
He held his breath, listening intently, until finally, the footsteps faded away.
With a sense of urgency, Kaelvhar emerged from his hiding spot and darted out of the room, careful to keep his footsteps silent.
He followed the lingering echoes of their conversation, moving stealthily through the sprawling halls of the palace.
His heart pounded in his chest as he peeked around corners, determined to uncover what his father was up to.
He followed the two figures as they approached Andreas's personal chamber.
Kaelvhar felt a mix of fear and curiosity as he watched them from a safe distance, hiding behind a column.
When they reached the door, the other demon placed the ornate mirror against the wall, its surface gleaming ominously in the dim light.
Kaelvhar's breath caught in his throat as he watched his father step in front of the mirror.
He could see the mix of nervousness and hope etched on Andreas's face.
The mirror began to swirl, its surface blurring and distorting as Kaelvhar leaned in closer, captivated by the unfolding scene.
Andreas's expression shifted from hope to confusion as the swirling finally stopped.
Instead of showing a vision of his true love, the mirror reverted to darkness and ashes.
Kaelvhar's heart sank as he witnessed the rage that overtook his father.
In a fit of fury, Andreas punched the mirror, shattering it into countless pieces.
Blood seeped from his knuckles as the shards scattered across the floor, reflecting the chaos of the moment.
Kaelvhar winced at the sight of his father's pain but felt a strange sense of vindication at the destruction of the mirror that had held so much power.
"Why didn't it show me anyone?" Andreas growled, turning to the other demon, whose face was pale with fear.
The demon stuttered, trembling as he tried to explain. "I—I don't know, my king, maybe, no S—something must be wrong I'll work on it my king."
Andreas advanced slowly, a predator closing in on its prey.
"You don't know?" he snarled, grabbing the demon by the neck, lifting him off the ground. "You've wasted my time!"
As the demon gasped for breath, Andreas's eyes burned with fury.
With a swift motion, Andreas's right hand came to rest on the demon's face, and Kaelvhar watched in horror as his father drained the life from the unfortunate creature.
With a flick of his wrist, Andreas tossed the lifeless body aside, frustration etched into his features.
In a swirl of black smoke, he disappeared, leaving the room in an eerie silence.
Kaelvhar waited, his heart racing.
He could sense the absence of his father and the other demon.
When he was sure the coast was clear, he slipped into the room.
His eyes fell on the largest shard of the broken mirror, a glimmer of hope igniting within him.
He carefully picked it up, hoping it would still hold some magic.
As he turned the shard toward himself, the mirror began to swirl again.
To his delight, it cleared, revealing the same elven girl he had seen before.
Her delicate features and enchanting presence filled him with warmth and joy.
Kaelvhar smiled, feeling as though he had found a piece of his heart.
Unable to contain his excitement, he rushed out of his father's room, checking to see if anyone was around.
When he confirmed that the hall was empty, he sprinted toward his own room.
He quickly hid the shard beneath his pillow, just as he heard footsteps approaching.
Andreas entered Kaelvhar's room, his presence filling the space with an oppressive weight.
The King's gaze fell upon his son, and Kaelvhar could feel the contempt radiating from him.
"Dad, What are you doing in my room?" Kaelvhar asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite the tension in the air.
Andreas's expression darkened further.
"Why must you live?" he spat, the bitterness in his tone cutting through Kaelvhar like a knife.
Kaelvhar felt a familiar ache of resentment but remained unfazed.
He had grown accustomed to his father's disdain, knowing he could do nothing about it in that moment. He stood tall, trying to appear confident.
Andreas stepped closer, and Kaelvhar braced himself.
In a sudden, violent motion, Andreas raised his hand and slapped Kaelvhar across the face.
The force of the blow sent him stumbling, and Kaelvhar could feel the sting on his skin.
"I despise you!" Andreas voice low and cold, his green eyes filled with venom.
"You and your mother have made my life miserable! It's your fault Fenrathion is dead. If you hadn't been born, I wouldn't have lost him!"
Kaelvhar's heart sank at the mention of his father's lost love.
He knew that Andreas could not accept the truth—that Fenrathion's death was a result of his own choices, not Kaelvhar's existence.
But the words still hurt, each one a reminder of the chasm between them.
Andreas turned abruptly and vanished in a swirl of dark smoke, leaving Kaelvhar alone in the room.
He stood there for a moment, his cheek throbbing, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache of his father's words.
As the anger subsided, he made his way to the bed and retrieved the shard of the mirror.
He held it close, longing to see the elven girl again. With trembling hands, he angled the shard toward himself, whispering a silent prayer for connection.
The mirror shimmered and swirled, and soon the girl's image appeared again, her beauty radiating through the darkness.
A smile broke across Kaelvhar's face, and he felt a warmth spread through his chest, banishing the pain from his earlier encounter.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his heart lifting with hope.
He couldn't help but imagine a future where they would be together, away from the shadows of his father's wrath.
"I'll grow up big and strong," he promised himself, "and I'll find you. I will make you mine."
The image of the elven girl filled him with determination.
He imagined her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled, and the gentle grace with which she moved.
Kaelvhar felt an overwhelming desire to protect her, to shield her from the darkness that surrounded him.
"I'll find a way," he vowed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'll break free from this place, and I'll come for you."
With that thought in mind, Kaelvhar tucked the shard of the mirror under his pillow, a secret treasure that held the key to his heart.
He lay down, his mind racing with dreams of the future, of strength and love.
As he closed his eyes, the image of the elven girl danced in his thoughts, a beacon of hope in a world filled with shadows.
Tomorrow would be a new day, and Kaelvhar was determined to make it one where he could begin to forge his own destiny.