ã€ŠTear of Darknessã€‹


 Chapter 1.

    My soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to my skin as the fierce wind lashed against my face. Every movement in the air turned into a struggle against an invisible force pushing me back. As the crown prince, lord of darkness, I was supposed to appear majestic and invincible. Instead, I looked like a drenched stray dog thrown out into a storm. But that was precisely the point.

    Taking shelter from the rain would have been beneath me. To blend in, I had to look like an ordinary man, burdened by the same troubles as everyone else. A borrowed face wasn¡¯t enough¡ªthe one I often claimed belonged to a brown-haired man with a broad build and deep scars across his cheeks. I needed to appear convincingly mundane. I had to slip into the crowd where no one would recognize me.

    It had been a long time since I¡¯d last been here. Slobodnica had transformed into a sprawling lake. The rain-soaked streets were empty, the stone pathways covered in puddles that reflected the gray sky above. Four days of relentless rain had flooded the entire town, with water already rising to the doorsteps of homes.

    I descended, the wind tearing at my wings, until my boots hit the wet pavement with a splash. Water shot up, immediately soaking my ankles. Without hesitation, I dismissed my black wings¡ªI didn¡¯t want to draw any unwanted attention.

    Slobodnica was small. Compared to the grand city I called home, it felt like a forgotten village. Angels here lived simple lives, far removed from the wealth and comfort I was accustomed to. Stone houses with wooden shutters and the occasional thatched roof looked like something from another era.

    This city was my brother¡¯s territory. He was the one who usually kept watch over it, but in recent months, whispers of a growing cult had started to spread. Their mission was to exterminate incomplete angels¡ªthose who couldn¡¯t summon their wings. According to my father¡¯s law, such angels were rightful citizens. The cult was a mockery of his authority, and I had come here to show what happens to those who dare defy his rules.

    The street curved to the left. In a narrow alley, I remembered a birthday I once celebrated here. Together with old friends, we drank every drop of alcohol, threw the women out, and forced them to earn money just to buy back our favor. The next day, we realized that if I didn¡¯t have immunity, we would have ended up on the gallows long ago. I chuckled at the memory, though it didn¡¯t seem as amusing as it once had. My youth was long gone.

    Entering the inn, I descended the stairs into a room that smelled far too fragrant, accompanied by the sound of slow music. A pianist sat on a small stage, clumsily tapping the keys with zero talent. To the left was a large bar, and I headed toward it. Behind the counter, a blonde woman barely dressed in a scrap of fabric leaned over and smiled at me.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take an unopened bottle of your most expensive liquor,¡± I snapped.

    Her smile widened. ¡°Nate! I¡¯m so glad to see you! Are you here to celebrate something?¡± She leaned closer, placing a hand on my shoulder.

    Nate. That was the name of the man whose face I wore. She clearly thought she knew me. I left her hand where it was, though my voice remained cold.

    ¡°I¡¯m here on business. We¡¯ll talk another time.¡±

    Her smile faltered. As if sensing something, something in my aura made her step back two paces.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get you your bottle,¡± she muttered.

    I paid her no further attention. Instead, I walked toward a table in the corner of the room where three men were seated. One of them¡ªloud and poorly dressed¡ªwas leaning far too close to a young girl. Her expression reminded me of Elisha. But my sister would never have let something like that happen. She would have grabbed a candlestick and driven it deep into his skull, casually remarking that he was ¡°wasting our oxygen.¡±

    To Elisha, the lives of others held no value. She believed it was her right to decide who would stop breathing and when. And though I never admitted it out loud, in many ways, I agreed with her. I, too, had the power to decide who lived and who didn¡¯t, and I wasn¡¯t afraid to use it.

    Where are you? Damn it, where are you, Reilan? We had an agreement!

    The voice pierced into my mind like the sharp point of a dagger, cutting through my mental barriers and filling it with unexpected intensity. It forced its way through a crack in the spiritual shield I had so carefully built, paralyzing me for a brief moment. A flood of foreign thoughts and emotions dragged me into another space.

    Before me appeared a room that couldn¡¯t have been more different from this grimy hole. Luxurious red curtains framed massive windows, while an antique table, polished and flawless, dominated the space. Behind it sat a man whose features were almost divinely perfect. Black hair fell into piercing, almost heavenly blue eyes. Every movement was calculated, every gesture elegant. He was the embodiment of eternal splendor, unmatched by any living being.

    Let me go, Darlek! I¡¯m coming!

    His mind released me, and the world snapped back into its familiar, filthy chaos.

    I staggered, grabbing onto the nearest young man for support. He looked at me in confusion, about to say something, but his gaze fell on my hand. He noticed how black it was. I¡¯d slipped up¡ªagain, because of Darlek.

    The young man jumped back, muttered something under his breath, and disappeared.

    Only three beings could summon me so violently into their minds. Darlek and Elisha were two of them¡ªmy hated siblings. They could paralyze me even in the middle of battle, leaving some idiot the perfect chance to lop off my head.

    I took a deep breath, focusing on every trace that might guide me further. My steps were nearly silent as I climbed the worn wooden stairs. The damp scent of decay, mixed with a faint hint of expensive, spiced perfume, told me I was close to my target.

    I stopped by a wall, pressing myself against its cold surface. A hulking man descended the stairs ahead of me, his wings extended in an unnatural position. They were a painful reminder that not every angel had the gift of hiding their true nature and that some were forced to live with their wings stuck on their backs for their entire lives. Wings like those weren¡¯t a gift but a curse, burning their bearer down to their very bones. Still, it was better than being one of those who couldn¡¯t summon wings at all.

    Silently, I moved toward the door from which I could hear coarse male laughter. Without hesitation, I pushed the handle and entered.

    The scene that unfolded before me was as revolting as it was predictable. Two women stood there. One leapt back, fear flashing in her eyes, while the other simply laughed as if nothing had happened. The man in the center, naked and utterly shameless, shot me an irritated glare.

    "Get out, you filth! I¡¯ve paid for them for another hour!" he bellowed. Though his words carried weight, his nakedness and utter lack of dignity immediately robbed them of any effect.

    I tilted my head to the side, a slow smile spreading across my lips. "Ladies, out," I said.

    The aura surrounding me filled the room, pressing into every corner, forcing those present to submit. The women exchanged quick glances, their laughter dying in an instant, and without a word, they left the room. The slam of the door left an unnatural silence in its wake.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    I stood by the entrance as he reluctantly got up from the bed. His hands reached for a thin robe draped over the edge of the mattress, which he carelessly threw over his shoulders. The robe barely fit his bulky frame, revealing far more than it concealed. His lazy gestures were feeble attempts to maintain some semblance of dignity, but the growing embarrassment in his eyes betrayed him. Suddenly, he looked less confident and more like a man caught red-handed.

    The atmosphere grew heavier, but I remained silent. I knew it unnerved him. When he couldn¡¯t take it any longer, he spoke.

    "You clearly don¡¯t know who I am..." His voice was quieter now, though he tried to sound commanding. He picked up a dagger from the table and began tossing it between his hands. Was that supposed to intimidate me? "Daner sent you, didn¡¯t he? Looking for some petty revenge? I don¡¯t know how much he paid you, but I¡¯ll pay you more¡ªand cleanse your tarnished soul while I¡¯m at it. I¡¯m a purifier, a spreader of truth, and one of the kings of Terravorn."

    His words were steeped in false confidence, as though he were trying to convince not only me but himself. He was exactly the kind of man whose pride always betrayed him.

    I admired his na?ve attempt to resolve things with words. But in what he said, he hit the nail on the head.

    "Noxalora has no kings," I replied calmly. "There¡¯s only one ruler¡ªSarlan."

    "You need to live in the future," he sneered, his grin turning contemptuous. "The world has been stagnant for too long. It¡¯s time for people like you to stop following the dark angels and stand against them. They don¡¯t care about us. They see us as nothing more than disposable slaves. Together, we can stop them."

    I slowly leaned back against the door, making sure no one could enter. This wasn¡¯t one of those clever Terravorn men Nate had warned me about. This was just an ordinary fool, eager to puff himself up in front of anyone just to feel powerful for a fleeting moment.

    "And how exactly do you plan to do that?" I asked, tilting my head slightly as if I were genuinely considering his words. "I¡¯ll admit, I might even find it interesting. The dark ones have been in power for far too long. Perhaps it¡¯s time someone took action against them, don¡¯t you think?"

    For a moment, doubt flickered across his face, but a shadow of interest flashed in his eyes.

    I continued, ¡°Do you already have concrete plans? Or is this just another futile attempt at rebellion, doomed to fall apart before it even begins?¡±

    ¡°First, I need to make sure you¡¯re not incomplete. We only take those with the courage to change the regime¡ªtrue angels,¡± he challenged me.

    I took a step closer. A faint smile tugged at my lips as I effortlessly summoned my wings. Shadowy and darker than the blackest night, they unfurled with dramatic elegance behind me, but only for a brief moment¡ªjust long enough for him to see them. When I retracted them again, his lips trembled.

    I didn¡¯t have ordinary wings.

    Fear flickered in his eyes.

    ¡°Even the immortal can die,¡± he stammered. ¡°They have weaknesses. We¡¯ll use them against them and fulfill the prophecy of the light.¡±

    I rolled my eyes and sighed quietly. ¡°The light prophecy? Weaknesses? So that¡¯s the grand plan of the self-proclaimed kings of Terravorn?¡±

    The man clenched his teeth, barking back at me, ¡°It may just be the beginning, but it¡¯s something. The dark ones have ruled this world for ages, and no one does anything about it. All it takes is a spark, and everything can change.¡±

    I let out a loud sigh and averted my gaze. I wasn¡¯t even sure why I had expected something more sophisticated or well-thought-out. They were all idiots anyway.

    ¡°I¡¯m late to a birthday celebration because of this absolute nonsense...¡±

    His hand, which had been idly tossing the dagger, froze. He began studying me again, his gaze sharpening as though he were trying to piece together a puzzle just out of his reach.

    ¡°Birthday?¡± he whispered.

    ¡°I¡¯m celebrating my 878th birthday, in case you felt like offering me congratulations,¡± I added with a touch of irony in my voice.

    The dagger slipped from his hand and landed on the carpet. He didn¡¯t reach for it, leaving it where it had fallen. His eyes darted toward the window, but one of my shadows moved, blocking his escape. He wouldn¡¯t be flying anywhere.

    Slowly, I pushed off the door and stepped forward. My steps were small and deliberate, but the man instantly retreated¡ªbacking away until the table behind him stopped his movement.

    I unclasped my cloak, letting it fall open to reveal my arms. They were black, adorned with shifting spirals of darkness. Living shadows emanated from them, weaving together in an intricate, restless dance.

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± I asked, raising an eyebrow as I watched his clumsy attempts to mask his fear.

    Magic slid off my body, revealing the truth I had kept hidden until now. I was no longer just an ordinary, brown-haired angel with scars. I stood there, untouched by mortality. The features of my face were nearly divine. Hair darker than the night framed eyes bluer than the clearest sky.

    ¡°The Dark Prince!¡± he whispered, his gaze darting between my eyes and my hands, as if struggling to comprehend what he was seeing.

    ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t mean it like that¡­¡± he stammered, his words spilling out in broken fragments, each one silenced by the fear tightening around his throat.

    I looked at him with disdain. ¡°I might have respected you more if you stood by your words. Wanting change isn¡¯t wrong, but what¡¯s pathetic is that you don¡¯t mean it and instead force others to risk their lives.¡±

    His face turned pale. He glanced at the slightly open window behind me, and for a moment, I felt his fleeting hope of escape. But that was na?ve.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like men who make empty promises and deliver nothing,¡± I said again, my voice laced with mild disgust.

    ¡°My prince¡­¡± he began, but I didn¡¯t give him the chance to finish.

    ¡°The so-called light prophecy!¡± I roared, bursting into laughter. The man collapsed onto a chair, gripping its arms so tightly his knuckles turned white. ¡°You idiot, I made it up myself to lure fools like you into thinking it was real! You¡¯ve amused me. I never thought someone would base an entire plan to get rid of me on it.¡±

    It was the pure truth. There were a few false prophecies that my father and I had unleashed into the world to test our subjects. In over 800 years, no one had ever taken one seriously enough to act on it.

    ¡°Luxana is dangerous to you, and you fear her so much that you imprisoned her. You know she could destroy you,¡± he said, regaining a fragment of courage.

    ¡°She is utterly devoted to the ruler. They have an agreement. She doesn¡¯t want to be your savior, and she never will be. Light and darkness cannot fight each other because neither can win. The moment such a battle begins, the void consumes everything. That¡¯s one of the reasons Luxana stays within her little kingdom, surrounded by her warriors, to keep ambitious men from reaching her.¡±

    My shadows began to coil around him, testing him. The man had nowhere to run. There was nothing that could save him now. His angelic magic was no match for mine.

    I knelt in front of him.

    ¡°And weakness? I have none, because I¡¯ve been damn careful to ensure I never would. I don¡¯t care about anything but myself. It doesn¡¯t matter to me what you¡¯d do to my family or anyone else. I¡¯ve never formed an attachment strong enough for you to stop or blackmail me. That¡¯s the difference between us. I was born for power, not for pathetic mortal pleasures.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a liar. Everyone has weaknesses, and you¡¯re no exception. Maybe you think you don¡¯t, but you¡¯ll see. One day, you¡¯ll hit rock bottom, and you won¡¯t rise again.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. But today, you¡¯ll either start talking about the other fools who believed in the light prophecy, or you¡¯ll find out firsthand that toying with darkness is a thousand times worse than playing with fire.¡±

    I leaned even closer and touched his face with my black hand. He was terrified. I didn¡¯t even need to use my full power to frighten him. I knew he¡¯d tell me what I wanted. Why make it harder on himself? Death awaited him. Why should he care about what happens to others when he¡¯d no longer be alive to see it?

    I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t enjoy these games. The atmosphere in the room was terrifying, but I made it downright horrifying the moment I engulfed us in darkness so complete he couldn¡¯t see a thing. Not even his first scream could be heard, as the magical barrier let no sound escape.

    Me? Weakness? I had none.

 Chapter 2.

    Outside, one of the worst storms I¡¯d experienced this year was raging. Lightning split through the darkness, and every other sound was drowned out by deafening thunder. Our estate swayed in the wind, and the hallways were freezing cold. Yet my eldest sister, Jelissa, didn¡¯t seem to mind. She was thrilled that the highest gods had decided to turn our world into a lake.

    She didn¡¯t care that it had been raining for days and that the grass had vanished under layers of mud. She laughed and claimed it was just the prophet celebrating the crown prince¡¯s birthday. Wrapped in a blanket, she sang and danced as though the celebration were happening right here in our room. Though she¡¯d never seen Prince Reilan, she celebrated with divine enthusiasm.

    My brother Ewordie and our youngest sister Oswin lay on the bed together, watching Jelissa. I had claimed the only chair in the room and was sitting at the table, clutching a pencil and an eraser, constantly turning around to sketch all of them.

    ¡°He¡¯ll come. He¡¯ll come for us, and then I¡¯ll become the Queen of Noxalora. I¡¯ll have lots of children, and you¡¯ll all be my slaves,¡± Jelissa dreamed out loud once again. She always said that Prince Reilan would soon come to rescue us from this hell.

    Oswin clearly believed her. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

    To me, it was nothing more than an impossible dream. We were alone here. Out there, there was no one looking for us. Not a single person had ever thought, I wonder how they¡¯re doing.

    Father had done an excellent job ensuring that everyone forgot about us.

    Dreaming was futile, so I forbade myself from doing it. But I didn¡¯t force them to face reality. I didn¡¯t want to take away the tiny pieces of happiness they managed to find in this wretched life.

    We celebrated until Oswin fell asleep on the bed, and Ewordie carried her to her room. My brother didn¡¯t return, leaving Jelissa and me alone. She approached me and gently touched my shoulder.

    ¡°Everything will be alright,¡± she whispered. Her green eyes still burned with sparks of hope¡ªthe kind I had lost a long time ago. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of everything, okay? Go to bed and rest.¡±

    She leaned down, kissed the top of my head, and wished me goodnight before heading off to her room.

    I was left alone, and I really did try to dream. But after three hours of tossing and turning in bed, I gave up.

    I couldn¡¯t sleep. The storm had reached its peak. Angels in the heavens were reveling, piercing the darkness with constant bursts of light. Everyone wanted to celebrate the prince¡¯s birthday. This privilege wasn¡¯t reserved for the living alone.

    I got out of bed, rubbed my eyes, and turned toward the window. I peeked outside. There wasn¡¯t much to see. Our estate stood in the middle of nowhere. Around us were only the forests of Terravorn, filled with monsters that wouldn¡¯t hesitate to kill me.

    A single dirt road led to our doorstep, though now it was more of a muddy path. From my room, I had a perfect view of anyone approaching the house. Most of the time, however, no one came. Who would visit us? Decent angels preferred to forget we existed, and from the others, I had to hide.

    Sleep was no longer an option. Instead, I perched on the windowsill and grabbed a book. I read about an utterly unrealistic love¡ªthe kind I¡¯d never experience myself. How could I? Here, locked away in this moldy estate, I was more likely to meet rats than someone capable of loving me.

    My eyes were drawn to another flash of lightning. In its light, I saw a male figure land sharply on the driveway. The stranger folded his wings and placed something almost as large as himself onto the ground. Then he grabbed it by the edge and began dragging it toward the house.

    My heart jumped as he got closer, and with my exceptional vision, I realized that the ¡°something¡± was a body.

    ¡°Dalenau! Dalenau, come downstairs immediately!¡± a man¡¯s voice rang out.

    I moved to the door, carefully leaning against it and closing my eyes to let my other senses take over. Soon, I recognized my father¡¯s voice.

    I couldn¡¯t stop myself. Once I confirmed that he was indeed on the first floor, I opened the door and stepped out, timing my movements with the sound of the thunder.

    I walked across the dirty yellow carpets. This house was a haven for all kinds of pests, especially spiders. I¡¯d already grown used to the cobwebs and rats. A bit of cleaning would have solved the problem, but my mother would throw hysterical fits if anything was moved.

    That was the only thing she seemed capable of feeling¡ªendless rage. Otherwise, she was hollow inside. She wandered the hallways, ignoring everything around her. She probably didn¡¯t even remember our names anymore. Maybe she saw us as nothing more than ghosts haunting her.

    All the family portraits had mysteriously disappeared. Only empty but valuable golden frames remained on the walls. They were proof that my family had once been wealthy.

    I reached the staircase. With my fingers, I wiped a thick layer of dust off the banister and leaned over to get a better view of the floor below. Male voices continued to echo from the hall.

    Another lightning bolt lit up the darkness, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. The lightning must have struck very close.

    A shiver ran down my spine, and I started to tremble. I will not be afraid, I told myself firmly.

    ¡°This must be reported immediately. But I didn¡¯t want to carry him all the way to the kingdom. I¡¯ll leave him here with you, Dalenau,¡± the unfamiliar man¡¯s voice said.

    I couldn¡¯t see them from where I was. I¡¯d have to go further down the stairs to catch a glimpse. The problem was that they might see me too¡ªand I didn¡¯t want that. My heart was already pounding wildly. What if they heard it?

    Still, I refused to turn around and go back to bed.

    ¡°Leave him here? And what do you expect me to do with him? Let him rot in this house? If no one comes for him, I¡¯m not going to dirty my hands. He¡¯s just a disgusting corpse. You should¡¯ve thrown him into a ditch!¡± my father¡¯s voice was as ruthless as ever. He didn¡¯t care in the slightest that a dead body lay before him.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°He¡¯s one of the kings of Terravorn!¡± the stranger retorted sharply.

    ¡°He used to be, you mean. Now he can rule the worms. Corpses are useless to us.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true, Dalenau. Look at his wounds!¡±

    ¡°Got drunk, turned himself into a pancake when he tripped and fell off a roof?¡± my father guessed indifferently.

    ¡°Look closer. Here!¡± the stranger said, and then I heard the sound of movement. The men shifted, and so did I. I crept three steps lower and caught sight of them. They were kneeling over the corpse, their bodies partially obscuring it.

    ¡°These are deep wounds. But they¡¯re clean, precise, wrapping around his entire body,¡± the man continued.

    ¡°Someone tied him up?¡± my father asked.

    ¡°With darkness,¡± he whispered. ¡°These are wounds left by darkness. He was tortured.¡±

    I shuddered and looked away.

    I hated darkness. I always saw it as the reason behind everything bad that had happened to me. It didn¡¯t belong in the hands of ordinary angels.

    In the few books left in our half-empty library, I had read about the ruler of Noxalora: the dark angel Sarlan. A man of such immense power that he could consume our entire world. No one could rival him. For ages, he had sat on the throne, commanding obedience. Anyone who dared defy him paid with their life.

    ¡°The ruler is after us. He must have sent one of his twisted kids to deal with him. Looks like they had fun with him. Check his back!¡± the stranger¡¯s voice continued as he examined the wounds.

    My father moved to flip the body onto its stomach, fully exposing it.

    I immediately shut my eyes. Even so, I knew I would dream about this¡ªabout the unnaturally twisted, bloody, and lifeless body lying in our hall.

    ¡°Interesting work!¡±

    ¡°They destroyed his wings. Sarlan sent a message. He¡¯s making it clear that not even wings can protect us from death. He died from a fall. An angel killed by a fall¡­ it¡¯s unthinkable! That sort of thing only happens to the incomplete, not to us. The dark one has no limits, Dalenau.¡±

    ¡°Neither do we,¡± my father reminded him coldly.

    I cracked my eyes open slightly. I needed the perfect moment¡ªa flash of lightning or some other sound¡ªto slip back unnoticed. If I moved now, I¡¯d draw their attention. One mistake, and...

    ¡°Perhaps we¡¯ve gone too far. They could destroy all of us without breaking a sweat. We¡¯ve stopped being cautious, and this is the result. We need to change our tactics, or we¡¯ll all end up like this.¡±

    "Hopefully, you didn¡¯t soil your pants!" my father mocked. "You know who our enemy is and what we¡¯re fighting for. If you¡¯re afraid of some little prince, how do you plan to face the ruler? You know we don¡¯t tolerate cowardice."

    "Do you hear yourself, Dalenau? Both princes are at least three times older than us! I¡¯m not a coward, just cautious, because the truth is, as a corpse, I won¡¯t be able to change the world!"

    What was all of this supposed to mean?

    I already knew my father was insane; all you had to do was look at him. But I didn¡¯t think of him as suicidal. You couldn¡¯t go against the dark angels and survive. Only complete lunatics would believe they could come out of such a confrontation alive.

    "For the greater good, sometimes you have to die. And if they kill you, I swear I¡¯ll toss your corpse into a nice ditch," my father growled.

    "You¡¯re insane!" the stranger snapped at him.

    "But I¡¯m complete. My mental state is none of your concern."

    "I¡¯ll return tomorrow with a higher-ranking member to deal with the body. Make sure nothing happens to it."

    "It¡¯s not like it¡¯ll walk away on its own, is it? It¡¯ll stay here until you come back, or until it crumbles to dust. Take your time," my father replied, stepping closer and patting the man on the shoulder.

    The stranger recoiled in disgust and took a step back. Water still dripped from his soaked clothes, forming small puddles on the wooden floor. Suddenly, he turned back to my father, leaning in close. I saw his lips move, but the words he whispered remained a mystery to me.

    At that moment, magic began swirling around them¡ªat first, a soft, almost invisible mist, which thickened into a transparent shield. It blocked even the faintest sound from escaping.

    The man¡¯s eyes shifted directly to me. It was foolish to think he wouldn¡¯t reveal me. His smirk said it all. Though he had just accused my father of madness, there was something utterly corrupt in his gaze.

    Without a word, he turned and began to leave.

    I stood up and took a step forward, trying to remain completely silent. A childish thought crossed my mind: If I can¡¯t see him, he can¡¯t see me.

    It didn¡¯t work.

    It took him only a second to appear behind me. I had no chance to escape. My father simply summoned his wings, took flight, and landed in a way that blocked my path back to my room.

    "So, Losiela? Are you going to summon your wings and fly away from me, my little angel? Or will you remain the same incomplete bastard? What¡¯s it going to be?" he asked me in a cold voice.

    I didn¡¯t summon my wings. Maybe it could have spared me from the suffering, but I couldn¡¯t do it. I wasn¡¯t capable. I was incomplete¡ªhis greatest shame. The daughter of a man who fought only for the rights of complete angels, who hunted and ruthlessly killed the defective ones, was herself an angel without wings.

    That was one of the reasons he hated me. My siblings he merely disliked, occasionally enjoying tormenting them, but with me, it was personal. I was the embodiment of his greatest failure.

    ¡°You don¡¯t surprise me at all,¡± he said in an icy voice, gripping my shoulder tightly. His grasp was so strong I felt like my bones might snap. I couldn¡¯t fight him. Without hesitation, he began dragging me down the stairs, ignoring my protests.

    ¡°Curious, are you? Why don¡¯t you come closer?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t stop him. My father brutally threw me onto the floor, directly onto the bloody, darkness-ravaged corpse of the dead angel. For the first time, I felt what it was like for someone else¡¯s blood to seep into my skin.

    I screamed in shock. My cry echoed through the hall. I kicked my legs, pounded him with my fists, and tried to use magic. But everything shattered against his shield, leaving no trace. He forced me to remain on the cold, bloodied body.

    ¡°Do you like it?¡± he spat mockingly. ¡°Do you like how the dark ones protect you like this? Take a good look, Losiela! Do you see what Sarlan¡¯s bastards did just to protect defectives like you? Look at how they killed my friend for your sake!¡±

    I couldn¡¯t resist. I looked¡ªand instantly regretted it.

    His body was ruined. Every inch of his skin bore the marks of darkness that had mercilessly consumed him. It looked as though someone had bound him with impossibly sharp ropes that dug deeper and deeper into his flesh. The wounds were precise, almost surgically clean, yet all the more horrifying. The darkness had tortured him slowly, leaving him no hope of escape.

    And yet, it wasn¡¯t blood loss that killed him. The other man who brought him here was right¡ªhe died from a fall. The dark one had been exceptionally cruel. He bound him in such a way that when he tried to summon his wings during the fall, the ropes shredded them to pieces.

    He deserved it. Why should I feel any guilt? The man beneath me would have killed me without hesitation if given the chance.

    ¡°Nothing in my life has ever disappointed me as much as you, Losiela. Get out of my sight, or I¡¯ll show you what we do to scum like you!¡± my father roared, abruptly releasing my arm.

    He didn¡¯t have to tell me twice.

    I pushed myself up from the cold, wet, and bloodied body of the man and got to my feet. My palms were filthy, covered in blood, trembling so badly I wouldn¡¯t have been able to hold anything.

    I walked past him and practically ran back toward the stairs.

    Then I stopped abruptly.

    From the second floor, my mother was staring down at me. She stood motionless, like a statue, her face pale as death in the dim night light.

    Her face could have been mine. We had the same red, slightly curly hair and piercing green eyes. But hers were framed by a black ring¡ªthe mark of loyalty to Terravorn. My eyes were still clear.

    She had been beautiful once¡ªsurely, back when she still took care of herself. Now her red hair was disheveled, and she smelled strange. Her face was dirty, her eyes unnaturally wide.

    I didn¡¯t speak to her. She stood three steps away from my door. I decided to pass by her quietly, not to wake her from her daze.

    She seemed to be staring through me, as if I wasn¡¯t even there.

    I moved toward her slowly, careful not to make a single sound. She remained still. She didn¡¯t tilt her head or even lift her chest to breathe. Was she even breathing? She was terrifying.

    Just two more steps.

    Suddenly, she turned her head and stared at my chest. ¡°It¡¯s your fault, Losiela,¡± she whispered in a hollow voice.

    She wasn¡¯t angry or sad¡ªshe simply wasn¡¯t. Her empty eyes didn¡¯t meet mine the way anyone else¡¯s would. Even though she had spoken my name, she still didn¡¯t see me.

    I didn¡¯t stop walking. I didn¡¯t say a word. I passed by her and entered my room.

 Chapter 3

    It was almost unimaginable to me how long it would take for a wingless angel to get here, having to climb over steep, slippery rocks.

    The main kingdom of Noxalora¡ªMortavia¡ªwas the largest, oldest, and most beautiful. Even from afar, I could see the ruler¡¯s residence with its majestic towers and massive walls. The castle stood on an enormous rock, making it nearly impossible to reach on foot. Only winged angels could fly over the monstrous rock and enter its depths.

    The castle could house a thousand angels¡ªservants, loyal companions, and members of the royal family. It was, quite literally, Sarlan¡¯s fortress, from which he had ruled for an eternity.

    Every governor of the three subordinate territories¡ªTerravorn, Alaris, and Luxania¡ªappointed by Sarlan had to come regularly for an audience and report to him. My father could revoke his favor at any time and strip them of their position. It was essential to stay on good terms with the dark king, as he held control over our entire world.

    I didn¡¯t descend as other angels might have. Nor did I join the festivities in the courtyard below. From there, I could hear the raucous celebration. Many were shouting my name, holding bottles in their hands and reveling as if it were their birthday, not mine.

    My birthday meant a lot to them. Who could blame them? They needed days like this¡ªmoments to set everything aside and revel without restraint. As for me, I hadn¡¯t celebrated my birthday in years. I was far too old for that.

    I flew higher, heading toward one of the four massive towers. The aerial patrol greeted me and let me pass without interference.

    I circled the northern tower, made my way to my chambers, and landed abruptly on the balcony. I nearly fell on my backside¡ªthe tiles were slippery. That wouldn¡¯t have been very elegant. My black-and-blue wings helped me keep my balance. I flapped them a few times to shake off the water, then dismissed them.

    In the mirror, I caught sight of my reflection. I looked like a drenched rat. If someone grabbed me, they could probably wring water out of me. The only silver lining was that there was no evidence left on me. After what I¡¯d done, I¡¯d come out clean.

    Water dripped from my wet hair onto the expensive carpets. Quickly, I pulled off my tunic and tossed it forcefully into the corner of the room.

    I was running late. I¡¯d allowed myself to get distracted.

    I rushed to the wardrobe and flung it open, pulling out clean clothes while carelessly leaving the wet ones on the floor.

    Throwing open the door, I ran into the hallway, almost colliding with a massive figure dressed in black and gold. It was as if I was looking into a mirror¡ªalbeit a slightly distorted one.

    ¡°You¡¯re late!¡± he barked.

    ¡°Really?¡± I replied with a grin, smirking at Darlek.

    Unlike me, he looked like a true prince. He was always adorned with expensive jewelry, radiating an air of majesty. His proudly raised head, casual gait, and the dark shadows surrounding his figure ensured that no one could mistake him for anyone else.

    We started walking side by side. The atmosphere between us was tense. Maybe we once had a good sibling relationship, but those days were long gone.

    ¡°Did you notice the gift?¡± Darlek asked after a moment of silence.

    ¡°Gift?¡± I snapped irritably.

    ¡°I left you a little something in your room.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t noticed anything in my rush. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for anything from you,¡± I reminded him coldly.

    We never gave each other gifts. Why would we? Anything we wanted, we could get for ourselves. It had been over five hundred years since I last got Darlek anything. By now, we¡¯d given each other everything, and nothing new could surprise us.

    ¡°I know, but you¡¯ll find it useful, Reilan,¡± he said calmly, his exaggeratedly slow tone and smugness beginning to irritate me.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Elisha?¡± I changed the subject. As strained as my relationships with my siblings were, those two¡ªbeing twins¡ªloved each other above all else.

    ¡°She¡¯s around somewhere, turning men¡¯s heads,¡± he replied indifferently.

    ¡°You should talk to her. It¡¯s inappropriate,¡± I said with irritation in my voice.

    ¡°She can do whatever she wants. Father won¡¯t stop her.¡±

    ¡°Because he doesn¡¯t care about her, but you don¡¯t have to ignore it. She¡¯s embarrassing us,¡± I warned him.

    ¡°We could argue all day about who¡¯s really embarrassing our family, little brother.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°On the night of your celebration, you¡¯re dealing with lowlifes. You dirty your own hands instead of delegating it to someone else,¡± he said quietly, without a trace of emotion. Darlek never raised his voice¡ªhe didn¡¯t need to. His calm words always hit precisely where they were meant to.

    To him, the idea of a prince handling tasks meant for the lower classes was inconceivable. He had loyal angels for everything¡ªcapable, swift, and devoted. For centuries, he hadn¡¯t dealt with anything personally; his role was to command.

    In this, we were as different as night and day. I believed that if something needed to be done right, I had to do it myself. I refused to admit that anyone else could handle it better.

    ¡°No one saw me,¡± I retorted.

    ¡°They don¡¯t have to. Even if no one sees your face, everyone instantly recognizes your signature.¡±

    We descended the stairs into larger spaces. By now, we were encountering servants in the hallways. They greeted us respectfully, bowing deeply, and when we passed, they averted their gazes to the floor. They couldn¡¯t hear our conversation¡ªDarlek maintained a flawless shield.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised by how much beauty has been born lately,¡± he muttered under his breath.

    I knew who he meant. It must have been that long-haired blonde who was beaming at us. I¡¯d noticed her too, even though I usually kept my gaze fixed ahead. But to me, she didn¡¯t seem so captivating or important to even think about.

    The beauty of others had ceased to fascinate me after I celebrated my three-hundredth birthday. I no longer felt the urge to date or look for that so-called soulmate. What would be the point?

    ¡°What kind of mood is Father in?¡± I changed the subject.

    ¡°It depends. I didn¡¯t see him enthusiastically pacing the halls, but neither was he cursing incompetent advisors. Honestly, he hasn¡¯t left the red salon since yesterday. He¡¯s waiting for us.¡±Stolen novel; please report.

    The last sentence was a lie.

    ¡°He¡¯s not waiting for us,¡± I blurted without thinking. It just slipped out.

    Darlek flinched. For a brief moment, he let himself be rattled. ¡°I know,¡± he whispered, closing his eyes.

    Sometimes we could connect like this¡ªunderstand what we both felt when thinking about the most powerful man in our world. The man who preferred to spend his days in the red salon and sometimes didn¡¯t leave it for months. The one who had long forgotten how beautiful life could be, ever since our mother, to whom the salon once belonged, had been rotting in her grave for years.

    ¡°But we¡¯re the only ones who can go to him. We¡¯ve left him waiting far too long,¡± Darlek added.

    ¡°You should¡¯ve gone alone,¡± I snapped.

    ¡°It¡¯s your birthday, not mine. He wanted to see you most of all.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit!¡± I muttered. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d wished me a happy birthday. It had probably been so long ago that I¡¯d pushed it out of my memory entirely. Darlek was just making excuses. He didn¡¯t want to face our sentimental father alone.

    We stopped in front of the doors. Neither of us made a move to knock. Despite our age, we acted like children arguing over who would take the unpleasant step. As the eldest, it fell to me in the end.

    I knocked and waited. Time dragged unbearably slowly until a muffled voice behind the doors finally said, ¡°Enter.¡±

    I went in first, stepping into the red salon, which was aptly named. The furniture and every other object in the room were various shades of red¡ªfrom the carpets, sofas, and curtains to the books arranged on the shelves. This room was steeped in history. Everything in it was older than I was. It felt like an archaeological dig site.

    I stopped by the door, hesitating to step onto the pristine carpet in my shoes. It wasn¡¯t my usual habit, but this time I removed my shoes and walked in barefoot. Darlek mimicked me, even though his shoes were so clean you could eat off them.

    In our world, no one could rival the beauty of me, Darlek, and Elisha. Except, perhaps, the man seated behind the antique desk. His head was bowed as he read one of the books from the room.

    Sarlan.

    I couldn¡¯t find a word that could describe him without diminishing his exceptional nature. The three of us were but a grain compared to what belonged to him. Otherworldly looks, power capable of shattering entire worlds, and the blood of a true divine angel. We didn¡¯t even have a fraction of what he possessed. We could never be as untamable, immortal, or wise, no matter how much we liked to pretend we could rival him.

    He raised his gaze. His eyes were my eyes. His hair resembled mine. But everything else belonged to the angels of the heavens.

    ¡°Ruler,¡± Darlek and I said simultaneously, bowing in unison.

    He scrutinized both of us carefully, as if searching for the slightest hint of error. Eventually, his attention fell on our bare feet, and for a fleeting moment, he smirked. Without a word, he turned his gaze back to the book.

    ¡°Reilan, how did your meeting with the transgressor go?¡± he asked, addressing me first. He always did. He never gave Darlek the priority. He adhered strictly to the rules.

    ¡°Effective,¡± I replied curtly.

    He gestured with his hand, indicating he wanted more.

    ¡°The transgressors believe in the prophecy of light and that Luxana could destroy us,¡± I added, allowing myself a faint smile.

    Father closed the book, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

    ¡°Then they must be desperate. Nothing original. Did you at least send a clear message, given that the information was worthless?¡± he asked.

    His tone irritated me slightly, as if it were my fault that the transgressors didn¡¯t come up with something better¡ªsomething that could break him out of his lethargy, force him to demonstrate his power, to crush anyone who dared oppose him. That¡¯s what he was waiting for. Unfortunately, such a moment hadn¡¯t come.

    ¡°He¡¯s dead. His comrades have surely found him by now. I extracted the names of the leading supporters of the genocide of wingless angels. I could leave tomorrow and round them all up,¡± I said, desperate for action. Sitting idle at home was unimaginable to me. I refused to lock myself away and become like him.

    He shook his head. He disagreed. I forced myself to maintain a serious expression, even as frustration boiled inside me.

    ¡°No, one dead angel is enough for now. If the situation worsens, we¡¯ll deal with it. But not you. There¡¯s no point in you playing the defender. You should remain impartial and focus only on truly important matters. Since we are safe and they have no means to overthrow us, you have no work to do,¡± he said coldly.

    I had to swallow my anger and accept it silently. There was no point in arguing with him. It never worked.

    ¡°Of course,¡± I replied tersely.

    ¡°Darlek, I want you to visit more often. Your sister would appreciate it if you spent a little more time with her.¡±

    ¡°Father, may I leave?¡± I cut in. There was no point in standing there, listening to him lecture Darlek. Even though he clearly wanted me to stay for it, I needed to get out. I needed fresh air and a proper wash.

    ¡°You may, but you¡¯ll go toast your birthday with a handful of subjects. Go show yourself to them. Cheer them up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood for a celebration,¡± I blurted out. Darlek nudged me slightly, a silent warning to avoid provoking him. Not now, when it was his turn under scrutiny.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t a request; it was an order. Go show yourself to the subjects, Reilan.¡± He didn¡¯t raise his voice. He simply looked me in the eye. That look¡­ A shiver ran down my spine.

    I knew he loved me. In a strange, almost shocking way. But there was something utterly terrifying and otherworldly about it. It wasn¡¯t the kind of love mortals knew¡ªit reached further, into some infinite darkness and fear. He would be capable of killing me. If I ever tried to defy him, tarnish my mother¡¯s memory, or cross that fragile boundary of his patience, he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to take my head. He would mourn me, never recover from it, and yet he would still stain his hands with my blood.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go see them for a bit. As you wish, Father.¡±

    * * *

    After half an hour of wandering through the castle, I finally returned to my room. That¡¯s when I remembered Darlek¡¯s gift. How had I not noticed it earlier? Something large, covered with a cloth, stood next to my bed.

    I summoned a sturdy shield of darkness, just in case. A single moment of carelessness, and it could have cursed me.

    I pulled off the cloth, revealing an antique, stunning mirror as tall as I was. The frame was adorned with carved faces and inscriptions in a language I didn¡¯t understand. I ran my fingers over them, but nothing happened. The dark blue frame remained unchanged, and the reflection showed only my face.

    I didn¡¯t understand. Why would he give me an ordinary mirror?

    Then I noticed a note attached to the gift. As I read it, I had to restrain myself from smashing the mirror on the spot. The exact words didn¡¯t matter¡ªthe message was clear: he was mocking me.

    Darlek had written that this was a magical artifact known as the Mirror of Happiness. All I had to do was touch my reflection. Legend said that only a perfectly happy angel would see nothing in it. But if something was missing in their life, the mirror would reveal what they desired most. And with a bit of luck, they could even claim it.

    Me? Missing something? Ridiculous.

    Then why, for heaven¡¯s sake, was I afraid to look into it? I realized that my dear brother had gotten under my skin, just as he¡¯d intended.

    I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. For a moment, I considered grabbing this cursed gift and hurling it out of the tower.

    But what if¡­

    I couldn¡¯t take it anymore. I stood in front of the frame. I had to try. I couldn¡¯t let a silly legend control me. Summoning all my willpower, I touched my reflection.

    The surface began to darken, revealing only blackness, as if showing me a reflection of my inner self¡ªpure darkness.

    Relief washed over me. Darlek was wrong¡ªhe had no power over me. I wasn¡¯t missing anything. How could I? I had everything I¡¯d ever wanted.

    I reached out again, touching the dark surface once more.

    This time, my finger didn¡¯t hit solid glass but passed straight through. I immediately pulled my hand back without hesitation. What if something grabbed me?

    I gasped and took three steps back. The surface began to change. My reflection vanished, replaced by a strange, moving image.

    I stood frozen, unable to tear my gaze away. Before me appeared the face of a red-haired girl with piercing green eyes. She was young; I could tell immediately¡ªher eyes were free of the angelic mark. She didn¡¯t belong to any specific territory.

    My legs began to tremble. I didn¡¯t move, still watching the small girl who had no idea I was looking at her. At that moment, nothing in the world could make me look away.

    She saw me!

    The girl rose from her bed and limped toward me. Just a few more steps, and she would be standing right in front of me.

    But suddenly, she stopped. She sat down on a chair and began examining her skin. Then she picked up a brush and slowly combed her red hair. A bruise on her cheek was fading.

    Did this cursed mirror really show me what I was missing in life? Why would I be missing a small redhead who wasn¡¯t even old enough to swear loyalty to any kingdom? This had to be some cruel joke by my brother. After all, I didn¡¯t even like red-haired women!

    ¡°You can do this, Losiela. They won¡¯t break you. You have to be strong,¡± she whispered to herself.

    Where was she? Who was she so afraid of? For a moment, I saw fear in her eyes, and it stirred a murderous urge within me.

    ¡°What the hell am I doing?! What would Father say if he saw me like this? I¡¯m making a fool of myself!¡± I exclaimed aloud.

    Meanwhile, the unfamiliar Losiela yawned and began undressing. I didn¡¯t want to spy on her. Quickly, I turned my back to the mirror.

    When I turned around again, the strange redhead¡ªLosiela¡ªwas already lying in bed. She had a pillow under her head, was tucked in up to her neck, and was clutching a teddy bear tightly in her right hand.

    What?! Was it really possible that I, the dark crown prince, an over-800-year-old divine angel, the heir to all of Noxalora, was longing for a girl who fell asleep holding a stuffed toy?

 Chapter 4

    The rain had stopped. Only for half a day, but still, for a brief moment, the sky cleared, and I could see the bright sun again. Yet its rays never touched my pale skin. I refused to go downstairs, to pass by the corpse that had been rotting there for a week, and to step out through the main door¡ªsomething my father would surely notice and eagerly use as an opportunity to catch me.

    No one had come for him. Though my father¡¯s accomplice claimed that someone would, that he was an important man, it hadn¡¯t happened the next day as promised. After a week, the body reeked unbearably. I couldn¡¯t even go near it. I hated my heightened sense of smell, which I couldn¡¯t simply turn off like my vision. I wandered the halls blindly, imagining what might be happening to the corpse.

    I had planned to spend the day with the others in the library, watching Jelissa rummage through forbidden books. My eldest sister was trying to understand angelic magic in hopes of finding a way to get us out of here. It would be pointless to take away her hope or try to explain that she would never defeat Father. How could she? He had spent centuries accumulating power, studying forbidden darkness, and perfecting himself. He cared about only two things¡ªhis war against the incomplete and his relentless pursuit of strength.

    The library doors burst open.

    Jelissa dropped the heavy book she was holding, and it hit the floor with a loud thud. Oswin jumped up from the ground, instinctively summoning her wings in shock, even though she had been calmly drawing just moments before. Ewordie grabbed a lantern and lifted it as if ready to defend himself.

    I was the only one who didn¡¯t move. Sitting closest to the door, I clutched a worn-out book in my hands. How had the others been so startled? They should have expected something like this. Yet they stood frozen, staring wide-eyed at the open door. No one spoke.

    Slowly, I turned my head.

    I was surprised, too. It wasn¡¯t Father standing in the doorway, as usual¡ªbut Mother. She was looking straight at me.

    Her hair was neatly styled, she wore new clothes, and she had even applied makeup. She looked like a ghostly version of the woman I vaguely remembered from my childhood.

    ¡°There¡¯s food waiting downstairs. Come, let¡¯s eat together,¡± she said in a hoarse yet surprisingly gentle voice. For a brief moment, she stopped staring at me, forced a stiff smile, and turned her gaze to the others.

    I raised an eyebrow and opened my mouth, but no words came out. I probably looked like a fish out of water. A chill ran down my spine.

    I wasn¡¯t sure whether to respond.

    Had she really come to invite us to lunch? That was unthinkable. I hadn¡¯t heard those words in years. This had to be another test. An experiment.

    Ewordie was the first to move.

    Mother remained standing in the doorway, watching us intently. Her gaze followed our every slow movement, as if waiting for someone to resist¡ªor to run.

    What was she doing?

    What the hell was I doing here?

    This was the performance I had sworn never to play again. She hadn¡¯t woken up. She hadn¡¯t become a new woman overnight. She hadn¡¯t found a lost soul¡ªshe had simply slipped out of her role for a moment. Maybe, for an instant, her old self had resurfaced, but I knew it wouldn¡¯t last.

    How would Oswin feel when Mother fell back into emptiness again?

    I lifted my gaze and looked across the table. Jelissa was staring at Mother just as I was¡ªonly with even more hatred. Out of the corner of our eyes, we both glanced at Oswin and Ewordie.

    They were smiling.

    Surprisingly, they had allowed themselves to be swept away by this wave of falseness. They had let themselves be deceived.

    Did they not realize that soon everything would return to the way it was?

    Or did just refuse to accept it?

    We¡¯ll get them out of here.

    Jelissa didn¡¯t say it aloud¡ªshe only moved her lips. I read the words easily because I was thinking the exact same thing.

    A tear rolled down my right cheek. I wiped it away quickly before anyone could notice.

    But she noticed.

    My eldest sister¡ªthe strongest of us all, who loved us more than her own life.

    We¡¯ll escape.

    She did it again.

    I froze as realization struck me.

    We weren¡¯t just going to get them out of this damned dining hall¡ªwe were going to flee this house. I had no idea how she planned to do it. Maybe she didn¡¯t either. But one thing was clear¡ªwe couldn¡¯t stay here any longer.

    Things had gone too far.

    Mother returned with a large silver tray. It had surely once been used for serving food, but I had never seen it before. Where had she been hiding it all this time?

    She placed it in the center of the table, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. On the tray lay a roasted chicken with herbs. Beside it were potatoes and a salad garnish. We were familiar with potatoes and salad¡ªbut meat? Not like this.

    At that moment, I no longer cared whether it was poisoned. Suddenly, I felt as if I hadn¡¯t eaten in an eternity. I stared at the large portion of meat, feeling the overwhelming urge to ignore everyone and devour it all myself.

    The only one who didn¡¯t rush to eat was Jelissa. On the other hand, Oswin was the most eager. She knelt on her chair, pressed her hands against the table, and leaned closer to the chicken. The aroma of the food was intoxicating¡ªespecially after a day spent inhaling nothing but the stench of a decaying body. A shiver ran down my spine.

    My gaze drifted to Jelissa¡¯s hands. They were trembling uncontrollably, and she couldn¡¯t stop them. The sight sent a wave of fear through me. Suddenly, I struggled to breathe, as if a foreign object were pressing against my lungs, preventing me from inhaling properly. I had to remind myself to stay calm¡ªto keep from collapsing. Now was not the time.

    Mother reached out to serve Oswin a piece of meat.

    Before I could react, Jelissa abruptly stood up and swung her hand sharply. Angelic magic shot across the room, striking the plate and knocking it from Mother¡¯s grasp. It crashed to the ground with a deafening clatter, shattering into pieces. A portion of food landed on the filthy carpet.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch her!¡± Jelissa snapped at her. ¡°You¡¯re not poisoning her with that slop. You don¡¯t even know how to cook!¡± she continued, both hands still raised¡ªready to summon a shield or defend herself.

    ¡°Jelissa,¡± Mother said, her voice low. She closed her eyes, and the smile disappeared from her face.

    ¡°Go upstairs!¡± Jelissa didn¡¯t break eye contact. She didn¡¯t even blink¡ªshe knew she was facing a dangerous opponent.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    But no one moved.

    Not a single one of us stood up or obeyed.

    I knew only one thing¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t send me away. I would stay by her side, be ready to act.

    But the other two had to leave.

    ¡°DIDN¡¯T YOU HEAR ME?!¡± Jelissa screamed, her gaze locked onto Oswin.

    Our youngest sister wanted to obey.

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t stand up!¡± Ewordie¡¯s frightened voice broke the silence.

    Oswin shifted on her chair, trying to rise¡ªbut just like him, she couldn¡¯t move.

    I tried as well.

    It was as if something had glued us to our seats.

    I pressed my hands against the table, used all my strength¡ªbut I couldn¡¯t move an inch.

    A quiet laugh echoed from the doorway.

    ¡°Apologies for being late!¡±

    Father stood there, watching us.

    Still laughing.

    He stepped into the room, kissed Mother¡ªwho still hadn¡¯t moved¡ªand sat down in the empty chair.

    He had paralyzed us with magic.

    ¡°I see there¡¯s been a little accident here, but that¡¯s alright. My dear, sit down. I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±

    Mother obeyed him instantly. She moved unnaturally slowly to her seat and sat down.

    My father hadn¡¯t yet mastered the stolen darkness, but when it came to manipulating minds, he was exceptional. He could force us to perform small, precisely calculated actions.

    My heart pounded wildly, as if it wanted to burst out of my chest. My palms were sweaty, and dizziness clouded my vision. The pressure of his presence, combined with the suffocating weight of his magic, was unbearable. I wasn¡¯t just paralyzed by his spell¡ªI was frozen by an overwhelming, inescapable fear.

    I knew this wouldn¡¯t end well.

    None of us could speak.

    Father lifted his right hand, and the fallen plate flew into his grasp as if guided by an invisible force. He caught it effortlessly. With another flick of his wrist, the food rose from the dirty floor and returned neatly to the plate.

    I smelled the thick presence of magic.

    A concealment spell.

    It was the same kind I had learned to cast as a child¡ªuseful, but I would never have thought to use it on food. It might have looked pristine now, but it was all an illusion. The food hadn¡¯t changed at all¡ªit was merely hidden behind a veil of deception.

    Father sent the plate straight to Jelissa.

    If looks could kill, he would have died on the spot.

    Jelissa glared at him with raw hatred, something not even his magic could suppress.

    ¡°Enjoy your meal,¡± he said coldly, gesturing for her to eat.

    No!

    I wanted to scream at her not to touch it.

    I couldn¡¯t.

    I was too weak.

    Jelissa fought him with everything she had.

    Sweat dripped down her face, veins bulged on her forehead, and her jaw was locked in stubborn resistance.

    But it wasn¡¯t enough.

    In the end, his magical grip forced her to lift the fork and stab it into the meat.

    As she raised the first bite of chicken to her lips, I shut my eyes.

    If I watched, I would vomit.

    Tears rolled down my sister¡¯s cheeks.

    A dreadful silence filled the room, amplifying the sound of her forced swallow.

    But it wasn¡¯t over.

    He made her lift the fork again.

    And again.

    She had to finish the entire meal.

    Only when she picked up the last piece and put it into her mouth did his magic finally release us.

    Ewordie immediately fell under the table, hitting his head against a chair, which crashed to the ground with a loud thud.

    No one else had to eat.

    ¡°My dear, thank you for the meal. It was excellent!¡±

    Father stood up, kissed Mother once again, and, in an unusually good mood, left the room with a broad smile. A moment later, Mother followed him.

    Jelissa gagged.

    None of us dared to break the concealment spell.

    Certainly not in front of her¡ªshe was the only one who had been forced to eat.

    She barely managed to stand. Her gaze locked onto the chicken, and she twitched her hand slightly¡ªbut I stopped her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do it!¡± I ordered firmly.

    ¡°We¡¯ll kill them. We¡¯ll kill them, Losie. Promise me that we will,¡± she whispered into my ear, her voice utterly broken.

    ¡°Of course,¡± I replied.

    I took her hand and pulled her toward the second floor.

    *  *  *

    Jelissa spent the entire night vomiting and feeling sick.

    I tried to be there for her, to support her.

    For her sake, I came up with various scenarios of how we would get rid of our parents. Of course, they were completely unrealistic plans, but at least they gave her hope.

    Early in the morning, I got dressed, checked to make sure she was still breathing, and was the first to go downstairs.

    I had to see the food.

    The concealment spell had surely worn off by now.

    The stench on the ground floor was overwhelming.

    Slowly, I forced myself to approach the table.

    At first, I watched from a distance, and even with just my sharp eyesight, I could already tell that yesterday¡¯s meal had been a complete disaster. A nightmare I had no stomach for.

    The smell didn¡¯t just come from the corpse¡ªit came from the table as well.

    Finally, I could see what Mother had truly served us.

    Without the magical enhancements, only the disgusting reality remained. White maggots crawled out of the strange, dark gray meat.

    My stomach churned, and nausea hit me hard. I had to clench my fists tightly to keep myself from throwing up right onto the carpet.

    Tears welled up in my eyes, and my legs trembled.

    And yet, I stepped toward the table.

    I was doing this for Jelissa. I couldn¡¯t just leave it there. She couldn¡¯t see this.

    I wiped my tears against the sleeve of my dress and stepped in front of the massive fireplace. I threw in wood, paper, and hay. With a single snap of my fingers, I summoned a spark and cast it onto the pile. The flames erupted so quickly that I had to step back to avoid setting myself on fire. I had probably overdone it with the magic.

    I grabbed the serving tray from the table. Now that I looked at it properly, I noticed how rusty and unusable it actually was. It seemed more suitable for garbage than for food. The worms crawling out of it nearly made their way onto my hands. As for the side dish? I had no idea what that slimy mess was. It looked as if someone had taken scraps from the trash, soaked them in water, and boiled them.

    Before anyone could see me, I quickly flipped the tray, dumping the entire meal into the fire. The food crackled as it burned, sending a few stray sparks onto the carpet, but my magic ensured that not a single trace of that abomination remained.

    I took a deep breath and wiped my mouth.

    We couldn¡¯t stay here.

    They could poison us or beat us to death at any moment.

    The hope that things would ever get better was long gone.

    No one was coming to help us.

    No one would even remember we existed.

    They didn¡¯t know we were here.

    Who would punish Father when his hand eventually slipped too far?

    In the end, even our bodies would be left to rot in the great hall.

    ¡°Did you enjoy the show, Losiela?¡±

    Father¡¯s voice.

    I had no idea where it was coming from.

    I spun around quickly, but I couldn¡¯t see him anywhere.

    As if he was hiding in the shadows, delighting in my despair.

    I tried to pierce the darkness with my gaze, but in this cursed house, there were far too many places to hide. Checking them all was impossible. He had lived here far longer than I had, which meant he had every advantage on his side.

    ¡°Get rid of the other stinking thing as well,¡± he commanded.

    His voice came from behind the curtain to my left.

    But it hadn¡¯t lasted long enough for me to be sure that he was really there.

    ¡°Forget it,¡± I blurted out.

    It was easy to be brave when I didn¡¯t have to face him directly.

    Behind me, slow clapping broke the silence, followed by a ragged, eerie laugh.

    I spun around so fast I had to brace myself against the wall to keep from losing balance.

    A fireplace poker lay at my feet.

    If he moved even slightly, I could grab it.

    And then¡ª

    He was standing right in the center of the hall.

    Right above the half-decayed corpse.

    The light from the open doors and windows illuminated his figure.

    He wore a cloak, his boots were caked with mud, and his hair was disheveled.

    That youthful smile on his eternally young face filled me with pure terror.

    Fear sliced through my heart like sharp blades.

    It paralyzed me.

    For a moment, I thought my father could read my thoughts.

    He knew I was planning to escape.

    He knew I wanted to take my siblings with me.

    ¡°Get rid of it, or we¡¯ll go for a little flight together. You know only one of us would make it back home. You don¡¯t want your siblings crying over you, do you?¡± he threatened, chuckling as if he found it amusing.

    He would do it.

    He had taken me on his brutal outings before¡ªoutings that always ended in disaster for me.

    I had barely survived each one.

    Once, he let go of me from a terrifying height and watched coldly as I plummeted helplessly toward the ground.

    I would give anything¡ªmy entire soul.

    I would do anything the devil himself demanded of me.

    I would sacrifice my own life, seal my fate in eternal fire, and accept any punishment the Highest Angel had prepared for me.

    If only he would fall to the ground, dead and powerless.

    If only I could stand over him, scream that I had won, and know he could never hurt me or them again.

    I counted my breaths and didn¡¯t move from my spot.

    Suddenly, I longed for a compromise.

    If I couldn¡¯t have his death, then let some higher force at least force him to leave.

    I craved solitude.

    I had no intention of moving toward him while he stood there, mocking me.

    I didn¡¯t have that kind of courage.

    It seemed that the divine angel Prophetam had taken pity on me.

    Father smirked one last time, adjusted his cloak, and turned his back to me.

    He began to hum a tune.

    I didn¡¯t recognize the words, but I was grateful for them.

    The melody allowed me to listen carefully, waiting for the right moment to move and take his place in the hall.

    I didn¡¯t dare disobey him.

    He had ordered me to remove the corpse, and the price for defiance would be too high.

    He had already forced me to lie on it once, and I had no intention of experiencing that again.

    The stench was unbearable.

    I wish I were the one rotting here, I thought.

    The books I had read spoke of life as sacred and irreplaceable. They said we should cherish it. That one day, everything would get better, and we would find joy.

    But I didn¡¯t feel like I was truly living. No¡­ I would call this mere existence.

    Sometimes, death is the only salvation.

 Chapter 5.

    Several days have passed since my birthday.

    I walked discontentedly around the chamber, wearing nothing but silk trousers. Half-naked, I wandered the room and shook my head vehemently. I ignored the large bed in shades of black as well as the comfortable sofa facing the balcony, from where there was a perfect view of the night sky filled with radiant stars.

    I should sleep. The sun had long since set and the night had fully spread out. Yet for the past few months, I have not closed my eyes for a single day. I was operating non-stop and it was beginning to take its toll on my mental state. My mind was restless, constantly wandering and demanding rest. I could not silence that whirlwind of thoughts. I was always expecting catastrophe.

    I did not agree with my father''s command. He wanted me to do nothing, not get my hands dirty, and play the role of an impartial observer. But that was impossible for me. I was unable to rest. The mere thought of lying down and passively waiting for everything to crumble into chaos exhausted me more than the work itself.

    I was used to solving problems immediately. At the very onset, I sought out those fools who dared to break the rules or even considered deposing my father from the throne.

    I turned to my father''s portrait, which had always hung on the wall. I gazed upon his flawless face. My problem was that I could not bypass the ruler. That was impossible. I did not have permission to plan behind his back and act. If he were to find out, it could jeopardize my claim to the throne. Darlek would seize any opportunity to replace me as the successor.

    "Do not falter!" I ordered myself to stay put and wait. The luminous prophecy was false... at least one worry less. But those who schemed behind our backs were very real. They were still recruiting angels, whom I could protect from doom.

    I turned my gaze away from the portrait and focused it on my reflection in the mirror. My appearance was otherworldly, befitting a crown prince. However, my eyes revealed something else ¨C exhaustion that even a thousand-year sleep would not banish.

    I had long realized the cruel truth: I cannot endure being alone with myself. Every second alone in these chambers was unbearable. Just contemplating my life caused a sharp stabbing pain in my chest.

    I did not lie to the traitor ¨C I had nothing that I cared about. My life revolved solely around me. Everything else was easily replaceable. This chamber? I could have a thousand similar ones. Family? I would hardly notice if it disappeared. Friends? They were merely servants, whom I replaced without hesitation. And possessions? Any treasures of the world held no value for me. The only thing that truly concerned me was to keep my throne and ensure that no one surpassed me.

    I stood on the balcony and breathed in the cold air when I noticed a familiar angel in the sky. He was quickly approaching in heavy armor, and even from a distance, it was evident that he was requesting permission to land. I nodded and waved him closer.

    A man with long gray wings swooped sharply onto the balcony. His scarred face was intimately familiar to me ¨C I had often made use of it myself. His disheveled brown hair, greasily clinging to his face, and his unkempt beard revealed that he hadn¡¯t even had time to wash. He headed straight for me.

    "Nate, I hope you have brought me something interesting!" I addressed him as his wings disappeared. He bowed deeply, clasping his hands in front of his chest as a sign of respect.

    "Rise!" I ordered, and he immediately obeyed. He straightened to his full height, a head taller than I was.

    If I ever had a right-hand man, it was Nate. He alone had access to my chambers and knew my secrets. He commanded my underground guard of spies and knew everything that I knew. He was the man to whom I would entrust my very life.

    Perhaps I was mistaken. If there was ever someone in my life who was irreplaceable, it was him.

    "My prince, I have come to inform you..." he began, but with a wave of my hand, I silenced him.

    "Come downstairs!" I was the first to enter the chamber, and Nate followed me. His tired face revealed that he had had a long day. I gestured toward the sofa for him to sit.

    "I¡¯m all ears," I urged him to continue.

    "Which would you like to hear about first? Your brother or Terravorn?"

    "Brother," I decided without hesitation. Terravorn could wait... Darlek could not.

    "As you commanded, we are still monitoring him. The same scenario repeats itself. His spies move ceaselessly between worlds. They rotate every week. A group of four men always disappears, only to return on Sunday evening and report directly to the prince."

    So far, nothing new.

    "Were you able to infiltrate him?" I asked.

    Nate shook his head. "A few of our men managed to get closer, but none gained his trust enough to be sent. What his men do must be extraordinarily important. He sends only those who have been by his side for more than three hundred years. No one else has access to the information."

    Why did Darlek send his loyal men into foreign worlds?

    "Continue with the attempts," I ordered.

    "Of course."

    "It is certain, however, that his men have not yet been successful. Perhaps they are returning empty-handed," I mused aloud. The constant rotation and dispatching of a small group suggested to me that he was searching for something, rather than building it.

    "We do not know his intentions, but we should prepare," Nate said as he leaned back comfortably. He closed his eyes for a moment, but opened them immediately when I nodded.

    "You''re right," I admitted. "It¡¯s time to remind the little brother that he will always be second. Even if he acquires something, I will take it from him. He will live only by my grace!"

    As if reading my thoughts, Nate asked directly, "Which one?"

    I liked how easily he understood me. I didn''t have to say a word, yet he knew exactly what I meant.

    And yet I thought to myself¡ªone day, maybe one day, I will have to kill Nate.

    But not today.

    I pondered. Should it be the first? Or perhaps somewhere in the middle? Hmm... it would be best to have him be the last!" I decided after a moment of hesitation.

    Nate nodded. "Will you prepare for his reaction?"

    "Of course. Leave that to me. Take care of the last one and leave the brother to me."

    That¡¯s how it was done¡ªI eliminated problems before they could grow. Darlek was naive if he thought that any treasure he found could stop me.

    "What about Terravorn? Do we have any news?" I asked.

    "Not much," Nate replied, nodding. "They are cautious. After we uncovered one of their so-called kings and you got rid of him, they have been careful about who they let among them. In recent days, they even halted the hunt for wingless angels. They usually don¡¯t even leave their homes¡ªas if they were waiting for our move."

    "Victims?"

    "We haven¡¯t found any new ones," Nate shook his head. "But I looked into that man, whom that dead traitor painted¡ªEdward Dalenau. Relatively young, he¡¯s about fifty years old and has been a member of Terravorn his entire life. The locals call him ''the scientist''¡ªapparently, he was always a weirdo who stayed on his estate. That estate is surrounded by the Silent Forest and protected by a strong magical shield. Yet he does not seem like someone with significant power. He looks more like a solitary experimenter."

    "The traitor claimed that he is trying to control the darkness. That is not harmless to us," I objected.

    "However, there is no trace in his surroundings that would indicate progress. I took care to investigate. I found nothing that we should be afraid of."

    I frowned. The very attempt to control something that was reserved solely for the royals was a serious crime punishable by death. Our power was different from ordinary magic. It left traces that could be reused. In the wrong hands, it could cause a catastrophe.

    "If he hasn¡¯t succeeded so far, he probably never will," Nate continued. "Such attempts always leave consequences. If he continues trying to control the darkness, he must have long since lost his mind."

    In that, he was right. Those who longed to acquire forbidden power often ended up as puppets. If Dalenau indeed continued despite his failures, he must be nothing but a shadow of the man he once was.

    "So you claim that he is harmless and not worth wasting time on," I concluded.

    "I am firmly convinced of that, my prince. There is no point in destroying someone who is already destroying himself. We must focus on wiser adversaries."

    Despite his logic, I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about it. Nate wanted to move on, but I wasn¡¯t ready yet. "Dalenau... shouldn¡¯t that mean something to me? You say he owns an estate?" I asked.

    Nate was not surprised that I was being thorough. Without hesitation, he continued, "His seat is so remote that our men do not normally patrol there. It falls under your brother''s control. The Dalenau family has served Terravorn for centuries. They have owned the estate for over five hundred years, constantly passed down from generation to generation."Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    They owned an estate, but they were not part of the nobility¡ªnoble families were exceedingly rare.

    "Does he have any offspring who might cause us problems? Father might be crazy, but sometimes children are not."

    It wouldn¡¯t be the first time that my troubles were caused more by the children than by the parent. The young often mistakenly believed they were invincible and capable of overthrowing our rule. If he were to pass something on to someone more capable, it could represent a threat.

    "As for his family, there are no records indicating that he has children. If he does have any, they must be thoroughly hidden. However, he is married, so the possibility of offspring exists."

    "What about his wife?" I asked.

    "No one has seen her in years. She might be dead. When she appeared at a gathering of her territory years ago, she didn¡¯t look well. Even then, she was considered a weirdo. No one misses her and no one is looking for her."

    "I won¡¯t send spies because of him. As long as Dalenau keeps his mouth shut and doesn¡¯t attract attention, we¡¯ll leave him alone."

    Nate nodded in agreement. "He isn¡¯t worth your attention, my prince. If he ever becomes a problem, I will take care of it personally, but I don''t think it will be necessary."

    "Any further news?"

    Nate shook his head. However, he noticed my slightly disappointed expression and quickly added, "You can count on us. Nothing will escape our notice. If something happens, you will be the first to know."

    "Alright, continue your work. Now go and rest¡ªyou deserve it."

    "You too, my prince," he replied, standing up and bowing deeply once more. "If you need anything, call me. I will be right by your side." Without another word, he left the room, leaving me immersed in my own thoughts.

    I was left alone and looked at the bed. It appeared cozy, almost inviting¡­ what nonsense! It was just a piece of furniture. So why did the very thought of lying down terrify me deep in my soul?

    I wasn¡¯t afraid of the bed, but the idea of closing my eyes, plunging into unconsciousness, and becoming vulnerable.

    What if something went wrong while I was asleep?

    Just like many previous nights, I did not close my eyes that night either. And for the following seven nights, I still could not force myself to rest.

    *  *  *

    After a long time, I felt the urge to sleep. I ate a hearty dinner, spoke with my father¡¯s counselors, walked around the castle, and greeted the subjects. I felt the weight of fatigue overtaking me, and on my way back to the chamber, I could barely keep my eyes open.

    Everything was in order. Nate had everything under control, Darlek kept a low profile, my father was no longer issuing new orders, and finally, I could move freely around Noxalor without any obstacles. I even spent a pleasant morning with my sister. I hadn¡¯t been this content in a long time.

    I opened the door to my chamber and closed it firmly behind me. As soon as I was enclosed by four walls, I slumped down and allowed my eyes to close. My body finally relaxed. I slightly weakened my hold on the power, and the room sank into darkness.

    I threw my clothes on the floor. Naked, I walked over to the bed and pulled from under the pillow the black pajamas that the servants always carefully prepared for me, even though I rarely wore them. I caught a whiff of herbs.

    I lay down on the bed and felt a sense of peace. The room was warm, yet outside a storm raged. With a wave of my hand, I opened the balcony door to let fresh, cool air into the room. The disobedient wind fluttered the curtains and knocked aside the light cloth under which I had hidden a gift from Darlek.

    I looked at the mirror. It reflected a room that was somewhat old, but at least clean.

    Yet no one was there. The red-haired girl with a bruise on her face, whom I had seen in it before, had vanished.

    I quickly sat up, swung my legs onto the cold floor, and stood. I walked over to the mirror to get a better look. Perhaps she was hiding in a corner?

    No.

    I thought that the mirror would always show her whenever I requested it. It never occurred to me that it might only reflect an empty room.

    This time only a few details had changed. The bed was unmade, a shirt hung on the chair, and a pair of scattered shoes lay on the floor. Everything indicated that she had been abruptly awakened from sleep and had hurried off somewhere.

    It infuriated me! I wanted to see her! Why wouldn¡¯t that stupid mirror show me what I wanted? Useless clutter that deserved to be reduced to rubble! I like irreplaceable treasures, not broken, worthless things!

    I cursed, but the reflection remained unchanged. I immediately dismissed the bed from my thoughts. Suddenly, I was no longer tired; all the drowsiness had vanished. I trembled with anger.

    Where the hell were you?! Such a young girl should have been asleep long ago! Unlike me, you must sleep every day, you fool!

    There was nothing left of the peaceful evening. Was I so stupid as to think that everything was alright? The world would stop without me, and everyone would perish! If I closed my eyes, I would wake up to total disaster!

    I turned away from the mirror, strode to the door, and flung it open forcefully. I nearly ripped it off its hinges as I shouted, "Bring me CALMING TEA immediately!"

    I slammed the door behind me and looked at the mirror again. She still wasn¡¯t there.

    I strode quickly toward the balcony. The night sky was dark, filled with clouds that were occasionally illuminated by lightning. Below, I could see several men on patrol who, despite the dreadful weather, never ceased guarding the castle.

    Should I call Nate? No, he wouldn¡¯t help me anyway. Clutter remains clutter.

    In a moment, a maid returned with a tray bearing a teapot and a cup. She placed them on the table and, after my curt permission, disappeared as quickly as she had come.

    I sat before the mirror, poured myself some tea, and sipped slowly. Yet not even an entire teapot could bring me peace. Instead, an even greater dissatisfaction grew within me. Which idiot called this a calming tea?!

    Throughout the night, I kept checking the mirror, but nothing moved in that room. Not the slightest hint that she was there. The darkness gradually receded, and soon the sun was to appear in the sky.

    ¡°What if something happened to her? Perhaps she needed my help. It was utterly foolish of me to even consider such a thing, but if she did not appear by dawn, I was determined to go and look for her. I couldn¡¯t take any risks. If she was important to me, I needed to know why. I certainly did not intend to let her die before she had served me.

    I didn¡¯t have to wait long.

    Losiela returned at five in the morning. Her completely limp body appeared in the mirror. What had become of her over the week? Her face was much more swollen¡ªfresh bruises shone on it. She winced and whimpered in pain. Her clothes were dirty, and it looked as if she didn¡¯t even have the strength to remove them.

    Who dared to assault my future servant? Anger surged through me, and the magic in the room exploded. The windows trembled, the flames in the fireplace leaped up, and the candles flared violently. For a few seconds, I lost control.

    She kicked off her shoes and, utterly exhausted, collapsed onto the bed. She whimpered in pain as she reached for a little trinket, which she clutched tightly, and began trembling uncontrollably. Her shivering soon escalated into convulsive shaking, and eventually, she burst into tears.

    The anger that had been filling me evaporated.

    It was not natural for me to see weeping girls. None before me was ever allowed to cry.

    Did she have to whine like that? Father would have struck her over the head, and she would have quieted immediately.

    She stopped crying and, it seemed, fell unconscious.

    My heart stopped for a moment. In that moment, I knew only one thing¡ªI could not leave her there.

    If she was meant to serve me, I needed her whole and intact.

    With a single gesture, darkness surged from my hand, traveling at the speed of light from my kingdom to her room. It found her without difficulty, and I saw in the mirror as it enveloped her entire body and drew her into its embrace.

    When it vanished from her room, I stepped into the space where an ordinary angel could not go.

    I found myself in the depths of my own essence, in a place where nothing existed¡ªonly me and my power.

    Losiela was the first I took there. I allowed her to see just how far my power reaches.

    There was no gravity here.

    I saw her. In the distance, she was descending with her head bowed, eyes closed, and her limbs hung limply at her sides. I knew that she had not yet regained consciousness, which was fortunate. I had no idea how I would explain to her where she was. Though I saw perfectly well here, the emptiness of this void would have terrified her to death.

    For a moment, a disturbing thought flashed through my mind: What if she wakes up and is afraid of the darkness?

    Before I could stop myself, I moved my left hand and conjured several blue flashes that began to circle around her body, illuminating at least a portion of the space. Had she tried it herself, nothing would have happened. Her own power would not have allowed her to create any fissures in it, but she obeyed me.

    Slowly, she began to regain consciousness, and a soft sob escaped her throat.

    I slowed her pulse and commanded my power to lull her back to sleep. She obeyed immediately¡ªLosiela stopped sobbing and fell into a deep slumber. Only then did I dare to approach and examine her closely.

    At first, I simply stood and studied her features. She was pale¡ªalmost unnaturally so. Her body was emaciated and ravaged. I couldn¡¯t resist the urge and stroked her cheek. I expected it to be cold, but her skin was hot, nearly burning me. My power reacted¡ªas if on its own. Gentle shadows began to caress her red hair and examine her. They moved from her hair down her body, conveying their reports to me.

    She was in a dire state.

    Bruised, with three broken fingers, a fractured rib, shattered knees, and a sprained ankle.

    How had she even managed to get into her room on her own?

    Curiosity would not leave me. I spoke with the power and inquired what had happened to her. It whispered that Losiela had fallen from great heights many times.

    Suddenly, a thought struck me.

    I wanted to verify if I was right. Sliding my hand beneath her tunic, I touched her back. Immediately, I felt pressure¡ªevidence that Losiela had failed to summon her wings. Either she had attempted to learn it on her own, or someone had taught her in such a drastic way that they were throwing her from heights to force her into action.

    Losiela¡ªthe one I was supposedly in need of¡ªwas an angel without wings. A forbidden cult would have flayed her alive.

    Anger surged through me once more.

    Had they tortured her? I recalled her earlier whispered claim that she could not be broken. I had to exert tremendous effort not to reveal myself and to immediately go discover who had done this to her. How could that tyrant hide away if, before him, stood the crown prince, ready to crush him?

    I placed my hands on her bare body and began to slowly heal her¡ªnot too thoroughly. I had not healed an ordinary angel for hundreds of years. I had no reason to; I did not require healing magic, for I was invulnerable.

    I still set her broken bones and helped with her ankle. However, I deliberately did not touch her bruises. What would she think if she were miraculously healed? I did not want her to know that I had been there. I only healed what caused her the greatest pain, but I left the marks.

    I stroked her pale cheek. She looked so unremarkable, almost boring. In the corridors, I encountered hundreds of women like her, and dozens of others who wouldn¡¯t even have their ankles touched. I felt no power in her. How could someone so insignificant be important to me?

    I sighed aloud and waved my hand.

    Only when I was convinced that I could do nothing more for her and that she was no longer in danger did I release her from the darkness. I withdrew myself and found myself once again in my chambers, standing before the mirror.

    She lay there exactly as before, but now her breathing was regular and her body no longer writhed in pain.

    She slept. So effortlessly, as if it required no exertion at all. Looking at her, one might believe that sleeping is that simple. She had hidden herself in the realm of dreams¡ªa place forbidden for me to enter.

    I frowned. For a moment, I envied her.

    I searched her room, trying to find something that would reveal more about her. I was already familiar with the furniture, but I looked for details¡ªsomething that might hint at who she really was.

    After a while, I lost interest. It was just the room of a pubescent girl¡ªnothing exceptional. But when I looked at her again, a little higher up, I noticed something peculiar.

    On the wooden bed frame, letters were engraved.

    Usually, they were names that meant nothing to me, but one word immediately caught my attention¡ªDALENAU.

    Why Dalenau?

    In that moment, everything I had thought about her until now changed. She was no longer just a girl who might sometimes be useful to me. In an instant, I began to regard her as a threat.

    Losiela Dalenau.

    I had no inkling of what connection she might have with the mad scientist who served Terravorn.

    Judging by her injuries, I began to think that she might be his daughter. Her age fit, and she bore injuries all over her body that a normal parent would not have inflicted. But if she were the daughter of a man who murdered incomplete angels, she must have had divine luck to still be alive.

    I immediately knew that I had to speak with Nate.

    What if it was all part of Darlek¡¯s conspiracy? Perhaps some pitiful attempt to threaten me?

    I understood nothing, yet a part of me screamed that I had to kill her.

    If Darlek knew about her, then for my safety she must not remain alive.