I was sitting in Celia's office, looking at its walls decorated with warm colors, while inside me words were buzzing that I could no longer keep silent. I knew, indeed I was certain, that she would not allow me to do what I was thinking. Simply because she would not let her son-who was snatched from her arms for twelve years-leave again.
Yet, I was determined to try.
I looked at her; her features were weary, and on her face was drawn a slight smile, perhaps because it was the first time I visited her inside her office, despite everything. It was clear she was busy, tired, but she tried to hide that with her composed smile.
I whispered, in a low voice:
"Celia..."
She immediately raised her eyes to me, and her tone of tenderness did not change:
"Yes, my dear... speak, I am listening."
I took a deep breath. For a moment I felt the heaviness of the air around me, then I said without hesitation:
"I want to go to the Arax Islands."
In an instant, her facial expression changed. Her eyes widened in silent astonishment, then she suddenly rose from her chair, shock preceding her words:
"What are you saying?! Of course not! I will not let you go... you will not leave the palace again, no matter what."
She stepped toward me a step, her eyes shining with tears she fought hard to keep from falling, but her voice came broken, carrying between its tones a deep fear and pain that had not healed:
"I will not let you go to die on your own feet... you will not leave me again."
The words were like knives, stabbing into my chest one after another. They were not just a refusal, but a faint plea, and the trembling of a woman who suffered loss once and refuses to experience it again.
I looked at her, and a heavy silence fell between us. I did not know if my heart was betraying me, or if my decision was harsher than I imagined. But she was there... standing before me, like a barrier of memories and tears, preventing me from proceeding on a path from which there might be no return.
I stepped closer to her, my fists clenched in a moment of tension, then they relaxed. I placed my hand gently on her shoulder, as if searching for some steadiness... then my voice came hesitant, broken, as if the letters feared to hurt her:
"If I promise you... that I will return safely... mother."
I drew a tired smile on my face, just a shadow of what I felt inside, while watching her reaction. I saw surprise creeping into her eyes, as if she was hearing the word for the first time...
I realized then that a single call stirred inside her all that she was hiding. She was not only shocked by my request, but by the word she had long awaited and never heard. For a moment, I thought I had made a step... that I had come close to gaining her approval.
But inside me, a strange feeling crept... it was not victory. But regret.
I was not sincere. I used that word... that untouchable bond, only to reach my goal. I did not do it out of love... but deception.
And for a reason I do not understand... I felt something in my heart break.
She pulled me out of my whirlpool of thoughts with a warm touch on my cheek. It was not a passing touch, but an extension of all the tenderness, pain, and longing she carried in her heart. I raised my eyes to her, and saw a faint smile drawn on her face, but she could not hide the trembling of her lips nor the tears accumulating at the corners of her eyes, fighting not to fall.
Then she whispered, in a trembling voice like a plea:
"Do you promise me that? Do you promise me... that you will come back safe? Without a scratch?"
Those words, despite their simplicity, were heavier than all that was said. She did not just ask for a promise, but a guarantee in a world that grants nothing certain. She clung to hope, to all that remained of me, as if her whole life depended on my answer.
And inside me, I knew... that I had no right to promise her what I might not be able to achieve.
But despite all the contradictions tearing me apart inside, I did not let the silence last. I looked directly into her eyes, feeling the weight of the words forming on my tongue, as if they refused to come out except with difficulty.
Then I whispered to her, simply, with all the honesty I had... or what I tried to believe:
"I promise you."
The word was like the last promise before departure, as if I placed my heart in her hands and left it there, without guarantee, without confirmation. I was not sure if I could keep it, but I said it... just because her eyes needed to hear it, even once.
And I saw then how her features relaxed, how the trembling of fear in her lips eased, and how a tear quietly touched her cheek.
At that moment, I wished that lying was healing... not betrayal.
And while the tears hid more than they showed...
Darkness elsewhere was about to reveal its true face.
In a room drowned in darkness, barely anything visible except a faint glow flickering on cold walls, a man sat on a huge chair and two others sat beside him. His features were unclear, as if the shadow refused to reveal his secret, but a wicked smile appeared on his lips, announcing intentions that did not bode well.
In a low voice filled with sarcasm, he said:
"Are you saying... they found an Astorite heir?"
Silence prevailed for a moment, as if the walls themselves feared what would be said next, then he continued, his voice this time carrying a tone of devilish pleasure:
"Oh... it seems this will become interesting. This time, we will not just compose his death... but we will eliminate him."
The hall door opened slowly, and its creak echoed through the place like an announcement of a grave event. A young boy and a woman with a commanding presence entered, their authority radiating with every step. Their hair was jet black like the blackness of night at its peak, but what attracted the most attention were the golden eyes they shared, eyes shining with a sparkle no one could miss, as if hiding secrets of ancient lineages.
The woman stepped forward confidently, her deep voice cutting through the silence of the hall:
"Greetings, immortal leader Draknos... today I came with my son, to confirm the truth of the rumors about the return of Lord Celia's heir."
A heavy silence followed her words, as if the entire hall held its breath awaiting what would come next.
From the shadows that covered the hall's chest, the face of immortal Draknos appeared. His golden eyes shone with a coldness devoid of soul, as if they were flames of eternal fire that never extinguish, and his gray hair fell on his shoulders weighed down by years that left only majesty and grandeur.
He stared at the woman, who bore a name from the branches of the noble Astorite family, Raven Astorite, and her son standing beside her, Ethan Astorite, who inherited a mysterious silence, and eyes no less piercing than the immortal leader's.
Draknos finally spoke, his hoarse voice like the sound of rocks collapsing in the heart of mountains:
"And why are you here, and who allowed you to come to me... without an appointment?"
His words were more than just a question... they were a disguised threat, carrying behind their tone a promise of punishment, if not death, then something worse.
Raven bowed slightly with a gesture of respect, though she did not hide a hidden firmness in her movements. She held the edge of her long black dress and raised her head calmly without losing her dignity, then said in a soft voice tinged with caution:
"Forgive my rudeness, leader..."
She paused for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully, then continued:
"I came only to confirm the news... from you, immortal leader."
Her tone was polite, but not without a hint of silent challenge. As for Ethan, he remained standing beside her like a statue, watching what was happening without moving, but his golden eyes flashed with a fleeting gleam, as if awaiting the moment of explosion.
Draknos's voice thundered in the hall like lightning.
"You are a liar."
The words trembled in the place, and the air around them froze, as if time itself stopped the moment they were uttered.
He stared with his golden eyes at Raven, a look that pierced her calm mask and penetrated what was behind it, then continued in his hoarse voice, a tone of accusation that accepts no argument:
"You did not come to confirm his return... but to confirm that he will die, and that this son of yours-Ethan-will become the heir instead of him."
A deadly silence prevailed. Raven did not respond directly, but her breaths became deeper, as if preparing for a battle of words or worse. As for Ethan, he tilted his head slightly, his eye shining with suppressed tension, but he did not move, as if knowing that any word now might ignite the real fire.
A heavy silence followed Draknos's words, but it did not last long.
Ethan took a step forward, surprising everyone with his voice that came steady, strong, carrying boldness not lacking respect, as one who knows exactly what he says and is aware of its consequences:
"I admit that, immortal leader."
Raven's eyebrows rose in shock, but she did not intervene, while Draknos stared at him with deadly silence.
Ethan continued without lowering his gaze, his tone terrifyingly sincere:
"I admit... I want to become the next lord of the Astorite family. And with his disappearance, I had a real chance to achieve that. But after his return... I will not be able to be the heir, except after his death."
His words ended, and there was no need for explanation or justification. He said the truth, bare, loud, destructive. The echo of his confession reverberated in the hall's walls like a death sentence pronounced by its owner's voice.
A cold smile appeared on Draknos's face, a smile that did not bode well.
Draknos's features did not change much, but he smiled-that smile that does not suggest warmth, but something else... something like admiration mixed with danger.
Then he spoke, his hoarse voice dripping heavy sarcasm, as if the words came from the mouth of a dragon contemplating its prey with admiration before devouring it:
"I like you, bold boy."
The echo of his words hit the hall's walls like an unexpected announcement. Raven trembled for a moment, not knowing if what the leader said was a good omen or the beginning of a terrifying test.
Draknos continued, with the strange tone of amusement increasing in his voice:
"Honestly... honesty is rare these days, especially when it comes from a power-hungry. You have boldness, but the question... do you hav
e the ability too?"
With every word, his eyes said what his tongue did not utter: "This boy may be a tool... or a threat."
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