In what universe does treachery make sense to you? I snapped, the edges of my voice sharp enough to pierce the stillness.
The words had leaked before I could stop them; the sheer incredulity tore at my chest. The room felt smaller, oppressive even, as the person I had most trusted stood across from me with a façade of apathy. The elaborate windows create broken light across their features, transforming them into a stranger I no longer knew.
Their tone clipped, "Arden, you don't understand," they said. "It isn't about you."
I chuckled cruelly, the sound empties in the great chamber that used to be so significant. "Not about me!" I said, my hands closing at my sides. "Everything we built, everything we fought for—it was a lie?"
Not meeting my gaze, they turned away. That was the instant I realized the truth was worse than I had ever dreamed. Betrayal tore the whole fabric of who you believed you to be, not only hurt.
The storm raging outside the manor howled through the stone wall gaps. That the weather mirrored the turmoil inside me was fitting, I thought cruelly. I fixed my gaze on the mark on my wrist—the complex emblem that had showered days before, unwelcome like Fate herself branding me.
I had whispers of old prophesies and a gnawing sense that my life was no longer my own, yet I would have spent nights attempting to understand its meaning.
The door behind me groaned open, and I turned to find Caous.
"Storm's getting worse," he said, his voice cool despite the air's tension. Leaning against the doorframe, his dark eyes peered at me as though he could see the turbulence boiling under my surface.
"What are you looking for?" sharper than I had intended, I asked.
"To make sure you don't do something reckless," he said, a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. You seem to have that look.
"What looks? "I fired back.
"The one claiming you are poised to destroy the earth."
I wanted to, at least, despise Caius. He was far too cosy in circumstances that would cause anyone else to break, too arrogant and confident of himself. Still, he seemed to be always there, like a shadow I could not shake. And now he was the only one not turned away as my planet collapsed.
"Why are you in this place? My voice softer now, I asked.
"Because someone has to make sure you don't spiral," he added, approaching closely. And because I know what it's like to have everything snatched away.
I noticed something unguarded in his expression for the first time—something that reflected the agony within me. But before I could reply, a great crash came from downstairs.
We stopped as well.
"That was what? I mumbled.
Caius was already moving; his hand reached for the blade at his hip automatically. Here, stay.
"Not a chance," I answered, reaching for the closest weapon—a rusty sword kept on the wall for ornamentation. Not about to hide, whatever was approaching.
Down stairs, the scene was anarchy. Broken glass covered the ground, and the big oak door swung off its hinges. Clustered in the middle of the room, a figure covered in shadow exuded threat.
"Who is you? With his dagger glistening in the flickering fireplace light, Caius demanded.
The man moved forward to expose a face I had not seen in years. My inhaled caught.
"You," I exclaimed, my voice quivering with shock and resentment.
Their tone too serene, "Hello, Arden," they said. It has been a long time.
Someone connected to a past I had tried to ignore—someone I thought I would never see again. And their eyes suggested they were not here for a reunion. Here they were for something much more perilous.
The room whirled as the figure lifted their hand and the symbol on my wrist burned. I dropped to my knees. Their smile became wider. "Doesn't fate have an interesting way of bringing us together? Their voice oozing with contempt, they said.