Chapter 26 - Nightmare of Betrayal
-Evening in the Audience Chamber; Imperial Sun Palace in Elmir-
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the grand Audience Chamber of the Imperial Sun Palace in Elmir, tension hung thick in the air. The lavish room, adorned with intricate tapestries depicting the empire's glorious history, echoed with the Emperor's furious voice. His throne, a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, was momentarily abandoned as he leapt to his feet, his regal robes swirling around him like a tempest.
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“Seriously, Cillian?” the Emperor bellowed, his voice reverberating off the marble walls, a mixture of disbelief and ire etched across his aristocratic features. His eyes, usually alight with authority, now blazed with indignation.
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Cillian, unfazed, leaned back against the plush cushions of the chair, a delicate porcelain teacup poised elegantly between his fingers. He took a leisurely sip of the steaming tea, his eyelids fluttering shut as he savored the warmth. “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty,” he replied coolly, his tone laced with a casual nonchalance that only deepened the Emperor's irritation. “Isn’t this how I was supposed to complete my task?”
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The Emperor's expression morphed into one of exaggerated disbelief, his brows arching dramatically. “I never commanded you to defy the King or seize his daughter! What possessed you to go so far?” He sank back into his chair, the ornate seat creaking under the weight of his frustration, fingers gripping the armrests tightly as if they were the only thing keeping him grounded.
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Cillian, with a slight tilt of his head, regarded the Emperor with an icy gaze. “Defy the King? I merely conveyed what he ought to do,” he stated succinctly, his voice devoid of any warmth, as if discussing the weather rather than a matter of state.
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A heavy sigh escaped the Emperor’s lips, the sound a mix of exasperation and resignation. “And where, pray tell, is the Princess now?” he inquired, his tone dripping with serenity, as if he were asking about the whereabouts of a lost sock rather than a royal hostage.
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“Moonlit Edifice,” Cillian answered, his voice flat and devoid of embellishment.
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The mention of the Moonlit Edifice, one of Cillian's many extravagant properties, hung in the air like a dark cloud. It was a place of opulence, its towering spires piercing the sky, adorned with intricate carvings that spoke of wealth and power. The gardens surrounding it were a riot of colors, with flowers blooming like jewels under the moonlight, and fountains that danced to the whispers of the night. To the Emperor, it was a stark reminder of Cillian's influence and the audacity that came with it.
"..." Oh, fantastic! I just assumed this kid was kidding, but surprise, surprise—I’m actually the punchline in this delightful little comedy act. How charming! The Emperor thought, a sardonic smile creeping onto his lips.
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“Why are you smiling, Your Imperial Majesty?” Cillian asked, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with the Emperor, searching for the hidden meanings behind the Emperor's expression.
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"Haaaa......, is there any reason other than the fact that my beloved son has committed an act so utterly incomprehensible? I’m still reeling from the shock,” the Emperor replied, his voice dripping with mockery. “Not only did you break off your engagement, but you also had the audacity to marry off your ex-fiancée to someone else.”
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Cillian’s expression remained impassive, his lips barely twitching as he responded, “I viewed her merely as a sister. Besides, the man I chose for her is a good match. There’s nothing for Your Majesty to concern yourself about.”
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The Emperor’s face contorted into a mask of displeasure, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated the implications of Cillian's words.
-On the Balcony in Luxana's Room, Moonlit Edifice; Elmir-
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I stood on the balcony of my room, the cool metal railing biting into my palms as I leaned slightly forward, my gaze fixed on the moon. It hung there, colossal and luminous, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. The silver light bathed everything in an otherworldly sheen, yet a peculiar unease settled in my stomach. It was a feeling I couldn’t quite articulate, but it was there, lurking beneath the surface like a shadow waiting to pounce.
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Ah, but I can almost hear you wondering what happened after I vanished with Cillian and the others. Why, pray tell, am I still here, trapped in this gilded cage? The answer is simple: It's IMPOSSIBLE!
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Let me paint a picture for you.
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The moment I materialized in this Moonlit Edifice, Cillian’s blade was still pressed against my neck. He retreated his sword, and with a dismissive shove, sent me sprawling onto the floor. I landed with a thud, the impact reverberating through my bones. As if I were a mere toy, he ordered two maids—who looked eerily like porcelain dolls—to tend to me while he gallivanted off. And here I am, left to ponder the depths of his motives. It’s almost endearing, really, how he pretends we’re strangers.
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I have three delightful theories to back up his behavior:
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Theory 1:
He’s still sulking over my refusal to help him break off his engagement. Apparently, the concept of let it slide and move on is a foreign one to him.
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Theory 2:
He’s too busy polishing his reputation to acknowledge our past connection. Oh, how noble.
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Theory 3:
Perhaps he’s being coerced into ignoring me. A classic case of “I’d love to chat, but my hands are tied.”
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Who knows? Maybe I’m completely off the mark.
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Now, let’s discuss my attempts to escape. I’ve tried at least sixty times an hour, but alas, the gates of this Edifice are spellbound. No one enters or exits. There’s a protection spell around the place, which is why even the birds have the good sense to steer clear. From my balcony, I can see the towering gates and the dense forest beyond, but not a soul has dared to approach all day. Even Veles, who could slip through the tiniest of cracks, has been thwarted. And those doll-like maids? They haven’t uttered a single word since I arrived. Their only contributions have been a bath, a table laden with food ranging from the mundane to the extravagant, and a book they’ve insisted I read. They shadow me like specters everywhere, but my “everywhere” consists of a mere two steps back and forth within this room. SIGH.
But honestly? I miss Myla, Drake, and Veles. I truly do. They’re the only ones I could ever trust, even if they’re a handful. I love them like family, and the thought of them brings a genuine smile to my face.
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I hadn’t realized I’d been standing there for fifteen minutes, lost in thought. Time to retire for the night, I mused, turning to shut the balcony doors. But just then, a sudden gust of wind slammed them wide open, sending a chill racing down my spine and my hair flying forward in a cascade of orange flames.
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I didn’t want to turn around. I could feel it—the presence behind me was immense, suffocating, and utterly sinister.
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KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERK
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The sound sliced through the air like a knife. I spun around, my heart pounding, and my eyes widened in horror.
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A wave of dread washed over me as the creature emerged from the shadows. It was a Harpy, a grotesque fusion of tattered feathers and glistening scales, radiating a stench so foul it could curdle milk. It hunched over, its wings unfurling like dark clouds, swallowing the moonlight and plunging the room into a suffocating darkness.
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Its gaze was predatory, sharp and calculating, revealing a twisted intelligence lurking beneath its monstrous exterior. As it advanced, its claws scraped against the floor, a sound that echoed like nails on a chalkboard, sending shivers down my spine. Every instinct screamed for me to flee, but I couldn’t afford to show weakness—not if I wanted to survive this encounter.
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With a guttural snarl, the Harpy lunged at me, its claws outstretched, glistening with malice and intent.
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And then, in a heartbeat, blood splattered across my vision, painting the ground in a crimson hue. The world around me faded into a blur, I blinked, and the world seemed to slow down around me.
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As the harpy's lifeless body crumpled to the floor, I caught a glimpse of Cillian, his silvery-white hair shining in the moonlight. Half of his body was bathed in the ethereal glow, while the other half faced me, his blue eyes locked onto mine. His right hand, the one holding the sword, was bleeding, but he seemed unfazed.
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I walked towards the fallen harpy, kneeling down beside it, careful to avoid the pool of blood. Clasping my hands tightly, I shut my eyes and said a silent prayer for the creature.
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Cillian stood to my left. In a sudden, swift movement, he grabbed my left wrist, yanking me to my feet. His grip was tight, almost painful. "WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH YOU?" he screamed, his voice laced with anger.
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I remained silent, my eyes never leaving his. My expression softened into a pleading look, but realizing what I was doing, I lowered my head, snatching back my wrist and crossing my arms defensively. I turned away, avoiding his gaze. Why was I doing this? I had hoped he would tell me what was going on, but it seemed like I was grasping at straws. I pushed that thought aside, feeling a twinge of disappointment.
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Cillian let out a sigh. "Luxana," he began, placing his left hand on my shoulder and leaning closer to my ear. "Listen closely," he whispered, his breath tickling my skin and sending a chill down my spine. "Want it, can't get it, came back and did it in another way," he continued, his cheek brushing against mine as he rested his head on my shoulder.
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"Xerxes," I blurted out, intentionally turning my head away from him.
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"And?" Cillian pressed, his face still on my shoulder.
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Should I really trust him? I pondered. "What's His Majesty the King of Domino doing right now?"
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Cillian smiled, recognizing my attempt to steer the conversation. "He's just sitting with his bum glued to his throne, his legs stomping as if nature's calling, but he'd rather do it on the throne," he exclaimed.
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I gave him a look of disgust. "You reek of blood," I exclaimed, covering my mouth with my hand. "Please wash up if you wish to continue our conversation," I said, turning my head away once more.
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"Hmm, I'm afraid if I take my eyes off you, you'd attract another beast," Cillian exclaimed, rising up.
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What? I attracted the beast? Really? I pondered. "Don't worry about me and leave."
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"Then wait for me," Cillian exclaimed with a smile, rushing off. Just as he left, the doll-like maids entered with cleaning supplies and began their work. They first locked up the balcony doors before proceeding with their tasks.
Hmm, this is weird. I attracted the beast? Sure, beasts are more active at night, but there's a protection spell around the Edifice. How did it get in? Is there some condition that needs to be met to break the spell, perhaps during the midnight hours like now, when the moon is at eye level? Possibly. But more importantly, what's up with Cillian's sudden change in behavior? Is he a daytime bad boy and a nighttime good boy? I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. Now that I've found a way to escape, I should leave tonight if possible.
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The maids glided with unsettling elegance, their porcelain-like faces devoid of emotion. They paid me no mind, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
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Just then, Cillian approached, freshly cleaned, a towel draped around his shoulders. His blue eyes burned with intensity. "Luxana," he began, his voice low. "We need to talk."
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"I'm all ears," I replied, guarded.
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"Not in this room," he whispered. "Follow me."
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Before I could respond, he turned toward the door. I hesitated but followed, convinced of his sincerity.
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We made our way through the dimly lit halls, the sound of our footsteps echoing. Cillian led me to a secluded alcove, his expression grave.
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"Luxana," he began, his voice a whisper. "You're in danger."
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"What do you mean?" I asked, trembling.
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Cillian grasped my shoulders. "The king wants you dead."
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His words made my heart lurch. "But why?"
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"I don't know," he admitted. "But you need to get out of here."
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Before I could respond, a sudden commotion from my room caught our attention. Cillian grabbed my hand, and we ran.
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We raced through the corridors, dodging servants and guards. My heart pounded as we ran. I had no idea where we were going, but I trusted Cillian.
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Finally, we reached a pair of imposing wooden doors. Cillian pushed them open, revealing a dimly lit staircase leading down. He pulled me inside and closed the doors behind us.
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As we ventured deeper, the atmosphere shifted, the air growing colder. Shadows danced along the walls, twisting as if alive.
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“Stay close,” Cillian instructed, his tone clipped. I followed. Each step felt heavier, as if the ground was trying to pull me back.
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I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows. I stole glances at Cillian, but his face was set in grim determination.
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“Cillian,” I ventured, my voice trembling. “What’s going on?”
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He glanced back, his blue eyes shining in the dim light. “We don’t have time for explanations. Just trust me.”
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We reached a narrow staircase spiraling downward. Cillian led the way, confident as we descended. A sinister energy pulsed from the walls.
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Finally, we reached a heavy iron door. Cillian paused, his hand on the handle.
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“This is it,” he said, tense. “Once we go through, we’ll be outside.”
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Hope surged within me, eclipsed by foreboding. “What about the guards?” I asked.
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“They won’t be a problem,” he replied.
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He pushed the door open, revealing a darkened courtyard bathed in moonlight. Freedom was so close I could taste it.
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My heart raced as I turned to look at Cillian, who stood frozen, eyes wide.
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“Cillian?” I called, confusion flooding my voice. “What’s wrong?”
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He stepped closer, his expression shifting to something darker. “I’m sorry, Luxana,” he said, his voice low.
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Before I could react, he lunged, gripping my wrist with a force that was both familiar and terrifying. “What are you doing?” I gasped.
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“I have to do this,” he said, eyes locked on mine, filled with regret. “It’s for your own good.”
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As the realization hit me, my heart sank. He wasn’t leading me to freedom; he was leading me to my doom.
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“Cillian, please!” I pleaded. “You can’t do this!”
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But he shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
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In that moment, shadows thickened as the reality crashed down. I was trapped in a nightmare of betrayal. Cillian’s grip tightened, and I felt the cold bite of steel against my skin.
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“Goodbye, Luxana,” he whispered.
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Then, he plunged the blade into my side, pain exploding through me. The courtyard faded into darkness, and I crumpled to the ground, the moonlight above a cruel reminder of my shattered hopes.
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As I lay there, the cold seeped into my bones. I was ensnared in a web of treachery that would haunt me for eternity. Cillian’s silhouette against the moonlight etched a haunting image in my mind, a chilling reminder of the betrayal that sealed my fate.
To be Continued...
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