_______
Lucina
The sunlight of the afternoon seemed almost cruel in its brilliance, pouring gold across the palace courtyard while my chest tightened with dread. Dust motes drifted lazily through the beams of light, dancing as if the world weren't on the edge of unraveling.
But I needed answers—and the man before me, dark-haired and brooding beneath the shadow of a carved stone pillar, was my only hope.
He wore a purple-patterned robe left loosely open, exposing a broad chest layered with intricate black markings. Normally I would have been caught off guard by such a sight, but today, I barely noticed. There was a knot of fear in my stomach, and it was tightening with every passing second.
"I need to ask you something," I said, forcing steadiness into a voice that did not feel steady at all.
He coughed—short, muffled—and waited.
"I asked around," I continued, remembering the servants' wide-eyed terror, "but everyone told me to stop asking questions."
His jaw tightened. The silence surrounding us felt like a conspiracy—one woven out of fear of Hakan.
But he… this man… maybe he wouldn't lie to me.
I stepped closer.
"Do you know the woman… the woman Hakan ordered to be sent to the Valley of Fire?"
He blinked, confusion flickering across his face. "What are you talking about?"
My heart hammered harder.
"Did you say Adar?" I pressed. "H-Hakan ordered the guards to take the Adi who came to the palace to the Valley of Fire. Do you know who she is?"
The reaction was instant.
Shock—raw, violent—washed over his face. His eyes blew wide, and a harsh, ragged gasp tore out of him. The sunlight around us seemed to warp, tinged suddenly with a crimson, furious glow. Streaks of red energy flashed around his head like lightning.
Not an ordinary order.
Not an ordinary woman.
This was personal.
He grabbed my shoulders—hard—his fingers digging into the fabric of my dress.
"Don't you know who she is?" he hissed, voice gutted with fear. "Or are you staying quiet because you've been ordered to?"
The accusation stung, but it was his terror—not malice—that fueled it.
Then I saw the shift—the way his expression crumpled under a sudden, crushing realization. He jerked back, hands falling away as if burned.
"I never thought Hakan would sentence her to death!" he choked out, anguish ripping through his words. Dark clouds of energy coiled around his head. "IT'S ALL MY FAULT SHE'S GOING TO DIE!"
His hair fell forward as his head dropped, his eyes glowing red with rage and self-loathing.
"DON'T YOU KNOW WHO—"
But the words never finished.
A shadow fell over us.
"Lucina?"
The voice, low and dangerous, cut through the courtyard like a blade.
I turned—slowly, dread coiling in my spine.
Hakan was striding toward us, each step shaking the stone beneath his feet. His aura throbbed—black, heavy, jealous—and his eyes were burning red with barely contained fury.
He stopped in front of us, glare like a physical blow.
The man beside me—Gillai—stiffened.
"Oh, this is—!" he began, face pale with panic.
But Hakan's voice crashed over him like thunder.
"Gillai, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY BRIDE RIGHT NOW?!"
My stomach dropped.
He advanced, murderous intent rolling off him in waves.
"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY BRIDE?" he snarled. "IT LOOKS LIKE YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH."
He didn't even look at me. His rage was locked onto Gillai.
"What were you saying to Lucina just now?" His voice rose, sharp and feral. "WHAT WERE YOU SAYING TO LUCINA JUST NOW? If you were filling her head with nonsense, I'll—"
I lunged forward, planting both palms against his bare, tattooed chest.
"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT, HAKAN!"
My voice cracked with desperation as I tried to hold him back.
"I SAID IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!"
---
"I SAID IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" I shouted, pressing my hand against Hakan's furious chest—THUMP—trying to push him back, to break through the impenetrable wall of jealousy clouding his mind.
But he didn't even flinch.
His dark eyes glowed a terrifying crimson, fixed solely on Gillai as if I wasn't even there.
"What were you saying to Lucina just now?" Hakan growled, each word vibrating with murderous intent. A vein throbbed in his neck. "IF YOU WERE FILLING HER HEAD WITH NONSENSE, I'LL—!"
The threat, though unfinished, crackled through the air like lightning. I knew that tone. I knew the danger behind it. Hakan was seconds away from losing control entirely.
Gillai, despite the grief and panic he had been drowning in moments ago, reacted instantly. His posture straightened; his expression sharpened. The anguish over the condemned woman vanished behind a mask of rigid discipline.
He bowed—BOW—a clean, formal motion, his hair falling forward in a dark curtain.
"I would like to have a word with Hakan in private," he said smoothly, as though nothing chaotic had just happened. When he looked up, his eyes flicked to mine—not pleading, not hopeful, but commanding. "Please leave us."
It wasn't a request.
It was an order.
An urgent order to get away before Hakan's jealousy consumed everything.
I didn't argue. I didn't hesitate.
I spun around and ran—DASH, DASH—my feet striking the marble floor as the golden sunset ignited the sky. I darted past the towering palace structures, my chest heaving, my heart pounding.
When I reached the far end of the courtyard, my legs slowed, trembling. I turned, just once, my face shadowed by fear.
Hakan and Gillai now faced each other alone.
Two of the most dangerous men in the empire.
One burning with jealousy.
The other burning with a desperate secret.
And somewhere between them, my fate—and the fate of the mysterious Adi woman—was hanging by a thread.
I took a shaky breath, but before I could flee any farther, the weight of my own questions yanked me back. I turned fully toward the courtyard again.
"Hakan!" I shouted.
Both men froze.
Gillai, who had been trying to gather himself—SHUFFLE—turned to me, his face tight with panic.
"T-that's not it, Lucina," he blurted, sweat beading on his brow. "I wasn't trying to hide it! I was going to tell you a long time ago, but—"
He stopped. His expression—FREEZE—was a portrait of guilt.
The truth slammed into me.
Not about the condemned woman.
Not about Gillai.
About Hakan.
Tears welled up—DRIP, DRIP.
"Is that why you didn't tell me anything?" I asked, stepping closer. My voice trembled, but the clarity it carried was devastating. "Is that why you chose me—a girl you dragged away from Brion—instead of a Tayar woman?"
Hakan's eyes widened, but he said nothing.
"Was it because you were afraid I'd run away if I knew the truth?" My voice cracked, but I pressed on. "If I learned what spending the night with a Dragon could do to me?"
The courtyard fell silent.
Hakan's lips parted—no denial, no excuses. Just pain.
Deep, hollow, regretful pain—DU DUN.
I swallowed hard.
"What did you mean… by 'nonsense' earlier?" I whispered.
Hakan froze.
I didn't wait.
"Aren't you talking about the chance that I might die… if I spend the night with a Dragon?"
The words landed like a blade between us.
His eyes dropped.
His shoulders tensed.
The truth was written all over him.
My chest shattered.
I jabbed a trembling finger toward him, tears finally spilling over.
"I… I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW."
I turned and fled—RUSH—leaving him standing alone beneath the blazing sun.
Behind me, Hakan lifted a hand—WHISH—as though reaching for something already lost, his tall, powerful form suddenly weighed down by sorrow.
He exhaled, voice breaking faintly in the vast courtyard.
"I'm used to women running," he murmured.
.
The moment Hakan's thunderous roar split the air—
"GILLAI, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY BRIDE RIGHT NOW?!"
—an electric stillness slammed into the courtyard. My breath froze in my lungs. Hakan's red eyes blazed, fierce and predatory, locking onto Gillai like the eyes of a beast ready to devour.
"Oh, this is—!" Gillai jolted, but Hakan's wrath swallowed his words.
"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY BRIDE? IT LOOKS LIKE YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH."
His massive form strode closer—STRIDE, STRIDE—each step radiating lethal heat.
"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT, HAKAN!" I yelled, shoving my hand against his tattooed chest—THUMP—trying desperately to anchor him. But he was a storm. My touch didn't even slow him.
"What were you saying to Lucina just now?" he thundered. "IF YOU WERE FILLING HER HEAD WITH NONSENSE, I'LL—!"
The unfinished threat vibrated in the air, dangerous and sharp.
Gillai instantly understood. His expression smoothed, his fear replaced with deadly composure. He coughed softly—COUGH, COUGH—then bowed sharply—BOW.
"I would like to have a word with Hakan in private," he stated, voice suddenly calm. "Please leave us."
His eyes flickered to me—go.
I turned and ran—DASH—though dread already clawed at my chest. But the deeper wound was already open. I stopped. Tears trembled at the corners of my eyes—DRIP, DRIP.
Gillai's face twisted with alarm.
"T-that's not it, Lucina," he stuttered, uneasy—SHUFFLE. "I-I wasn't trying to hide it from you! I was going to tell you… but…"
He froze—FREEZE.
My heart pounded.
I stepped back toward Hakan, the betrayal too sharp to contain.
"IS THAT WHY YOU DIDN'T TELL ME ANYTHING?" I cried.
The truth poured out of me like poison.
"Is that why you dragged me from Brion to be your bride… instead of a Tayar woman?"
Shock flashed in Hakan's eyes—!
"WERE YOU AFRAID I WOULD RUN AWAY IF I FOUND OUT THE TRUTH?"
His overwhelming presence seemed to deflate, leaving behind a man weighed down by sorrow—DU DUN. He looked at me as if the world had cracked beneath his feet.
"What did you mean… by 'nonsense'?" I whispered.
He froze again—FREEZE.
I forced the answer into the open, voice trembling:
"ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THE CHANCE THAT I MIGHT DIE… IF I SPEND THE NIGHT WITH A DRAGON?"
Silence swallowed the courtyard.
The truth was no longer a shadow. It stood before us—merciless and cold.
My voice splintered.
"I… I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW."
I turned and ran—RUSH—as far from him as my legs would carry me.
"Lucina!" Hakan shouted—too late. I was gone.
I didn't look back. Not even once.
But behind me, Hakan stood alone, watching my retreating figure—RUSH—until I disappeared.
His broad shoulders sagged, the weight of his secret crushing him.
"I'm used to women running away from me," he muttered, voice low, defeated.
The confession hung heavy in the golden dusk.
He lifted his hand slowly, staring at his palm as if it held the answers he'd searched for all his life.
"I SENT THEM AWAY… FORGOT ABOUT THEM… EVEN GAVE UP ON THEM."
His voice was raw.
"So why…?"
He whispered to the empty air, eyes reflecting the faint starlight.
"WHY DOES IT HURT SO MUCH WHEN LUCINA REJECTS ME?"
A memory surfaced—fleeting, warm.
Her smile.
My smile.
WITH SUCH A WARM SMILE ON HER FACE.
He knew then.
He finally understood.
"BECAUSE SHE'S THE FIRST PERSON WHO CAME TO ME…"
The night stretched around him, vast and lonely, as the realization sank deep into his bones.
"SHE REMINDS ME… OF EVERYTHING I DESIRED AND DREAMED OF FROM A YOUNG AGE."
Later, I lay beneath the shimmering moonlight, watching the turquoise aura drifting above me like living stardust. The cool silk beneath me contrasted the chaos inside my heart.
The memory of Hakan's voice echoed:
She reminds me… of everything I desired and dreamed of from a young age.
He had dared to hope again.
And in doing so… he had fallen in love with me.
In the sunlit court, domes blazing with holy light, Gillai's shadowed expression met mine.
"SHH!" he hissed, pulling me close, frantic.
She rushed to him—her hand brushing the bruise on his shoulder.
"Are you alright? Hakan grabbed you…"
"I'm fine," he joked weakly. "Hakan will kill me if he sees us."
A hollow chuckle. "Holy water will fix it."
But his face grew grave.
"More importantly… we need to save Adar."
"Who?" she breathed.
His jaw tightened.
The truth was a blade.
"IS HAKAN'S MOTHER."
Her gasp—pure shock.
"W-why would Hakan try to kill his own mother?!"
Gillai looked away, anguish tightening his features.
"I heard she'll be confined in a prison of fire… instead of being thrown into…"
He couldn't finish.
A grim, brutal fate awaited the Empress.
And Gillai knew—
Saving her was the only path left.
The only path to protect the past.
The only path to survive the present.
The only path to the future he had dared to believe in.
The portal's lingering glow slowly dimmed beneath me, its warmth fading into the cold hush of the chamber. A soft shimmer clung to the air—residual magic, like dust made of dying stars. Only when the last pulse of light dissolved did I breathe again, my chest loosening with palpable relief.
And then I saw them.
"I'm so glad you're here," I whispered, unable to hold the words back. The sound escaped me like a sigh breaking free from my ribs.
Puka, wind-tossed and visibly irritated, stared at me with wide emerald eyes full of suspicion. Their blond hair—usually sleek—was a chaotic halo around their head, as if the portal had dragged them through a storm on the way here. They wrapped their high-collared, tattered mantle tighter around themselves, bristling like a cornered forest creature.
The sharp, jagged edge of their speech mirrored the spike of their emotions.
"And why is that?!" Puka snapped, voice crackling with startled intensity. The sound reverberated in the chamber, raw and unfiltered, carrying their frustration at being summoned so abruptly.
I felt my breath hitch. The urgency in my pulse ignited again, glowing like a quiet storm beneath my skin. The magic around me trembled, shimmering in faint rings of light—my emotions bleeding through the thinning veil of the spell I had used.
I lifted my gaze to Puka, meeting those bright, distrustful eyes with everything I had left—fear, hope, desperation.
My voice dropped to a breathless plea, barely above a whisper yet charged with undeniable force.
"I need your help, Puka!"