(What would I even call my life now? Everything I dreamed of is gone, buried, and I am forced to obey a demon's command as if I was born for chains.
I don't know what to do anymore. It feels like my life has stopped at a cliff, and there is no road ahead—nothing to walk on, nothing to hope for.
Having people like Marcus around… that wolf in sheep's clothing… how could humans ever win? How could we even hope for victory when those beside us wield daggers behind their backs?
Victory for humans will be hard. Too hard. Maybe impossible.
If people like him exist among us, perhaps we were already defeated long before the demons came.
And I can't even do anything about it. I have known since I was cursed that the gods marked me long ago to whisper nonsense in books and do nothing in the face of death.
I am such a fool.)
Her thoughts pulled her down, heavy as stone. Aurelia couldn't fight them; they consumed her before she knew it.
Then tears slowly came, rising on their own, burning her eyes before slipping down her cheeks, slow and helpless. She did not wipe them away. She let them fall—tears were the only thing in her life that she still controlled.
Perhaps this was her best move; crying doesn't always make a person look weak.
People fail to understand that tears are blessings. They are the silent language of grief and healing, necessary at every part of a person's journey.
Then came a knock—three sharp raps echoing against the walls like warning bells. It pulled her away from her dream world back into reality.
The door creaked open, and a young lady stepped in, bowing deeply.
"Lady Flavia, the lord Tenebrarum requests your presence," she said, her voice low and measured, like one who had practiced obedience for a lifetime.
Aurelia's chest tightened. Tenebrarum. The name alone made her blood freeze, as if someone had dragged a claw along her spine.
So this is why I'm in this mourning dress… just to meet Tenebrarum? That thought crashed over her, wild and bitter.
Then her mind snapped back—what did I just hear?
Lady Flavia.
The words echoed inside her skull like a blow. That was her new name, a name that did not belong to her body, her blood, or anything she had ever been. It crawled under her skin, made her temples pulse, and caused an ache in her head that she couldn't shake off.
The Rules were no longer just whispered threats. They were becoming chains.
She hesitated for a moment, swallowing the lump in her throat. But her legs moved before her mind could argue.
Slowly and deliberately, Aurelia rose from the edge of the bed. Her palms pressed against the mattress first, fingers curling into the sheets as if they could anchor her to the only place that still felt solid. Her knees trembled when she pushed herself upright, a small shake running through her legs before she forced them to steady.
She drew in one uneven breath.
Then she stepped forward.
Her foot hesitated mid-air for a heartbeat—almost refusing—before touching the cold floor. The chill crawled up her skin, but she didn't stop.
Her second step came slower, heavier. Her toes pressed down first, then her heel, steadying herself while her fingertips brushed against the wall, searching for balance that wasn't really there.
She walked toward the girl waiting at the door, not with confidence, but with the numb, controlled movements of someone who knows she is being taken somewhere she did not choose.
Each step echoed her fear. Each breath reminded her she wasn't walking toward safety—only toward whatever fate they had prepared for her.
After a long walk through the estate, Aurelia's legs were already trembling. The corridors felt endless; each turn sharper than the last, with each echo of her footsteps swallowed instantly by the cold stone.
When they finally reached the massive doors, she felt it before she saw it—a change in the air, a heaviness, as if the world itself was warning her to turn back.
The doors stood like giants before her. Black iron, etched with silver sigils that twisted whenever she blinked, as if they were alive and aware of her presence.
Aurelia's heart pounded like war drums—deep and relentless, the kind that warned of something coming—something she couldn't outrun even if she tried.
Her escort stopped, not saying anything, just making a silent gesture with her hand—a step back—and suddenly Aurelia was alone in front of the gates.
Aurelia lifted her hand slowly, almost reluctantly. Her fingers hovered inches from the cold iron, shaking—not from weakness, but from the way the doors felt as if they were breathing against her skin.
Then she pushed.
The doors groaned open, and darkness spilled out first—thick and heavy, swallowing the light in the hall behind her.
Aurelia forced her foot forward, then another, each step slow and trembling, her fear climbing to its highest peak.
Ink-black shadows pooled along the floor, stretching and curling around her ankles as if testing her warmth… tasting her presence.
The torches along the walls flickered in long, wavering lines, their flames bending—not from wind—but as if they were bowing toward something unseen.
Her breath snagged in her throat. The room felt alive, every corner watching, every sound listening.
And still, she walked.
One step. Then another.
Pulls toward him like everything in this place obeyed his gravity.
Tenebrarum Mortifer.
The name echoed inside her like a warning she was already too close to run.
Tenebrarum sat in a high-backed obsidian chair,.
Aurelia felt her ribs tighten around her lungs. She inhaled once, shallow.
Her heartbeat thrashed against her chest, loud enough she thought he might hear it.
The escort behind her stepped backward, her foot barely touching the ground before she slipped out of sight, leaving Aurelia alone—
exposed, unshielded, completely within his gaze.
The mask on his face caught the torchlight.
It didn't gleam—it threatened.
Silver lines carved across the surface glinted like a predator's smile, reflecting a power she could not name and did not want to understand.
"I know you got the rules," Tenebrarum said.
His voice rolled through the chamber—deep, resonant—hollowing out the silence as if it were glass and shattering it cleanly.
The sound didn't just reach her ears… it slid down her spine like a cold blade.
Aurelia's shoulders stiffened.
Her fingers curled inward, digging into the fabric of the black dress.
"This is the demon that destroyed my life… our peaceful home."
The words trembled against her lips but never left them.
She only whispered them inside her own mind, a secret scream trapped in her chest.
Aurelia's fingers tightened at her sides until her knuckles ached.
Her jaw clenched.
Her breath shook.
"I wish I could strike him down… end everything he's taken," she thought, the silent fury burning behind her eyes.
Aurelia hadn't even realized her chin had lifted—just an inch, a breath of defiance—but Tenebrarum noticed instantly.
His voice rolled across the room like cold smoke.
"I see you've forgotten the rules, little rabbit."
A pause—slow, deliberate, dangerous.
"I did not ask you to lift your head."
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To be continued...