Arın (Uniformed)
"You can't go in."
No one could order a Morhena around. Who did this guard think he was?
"Move out of my way," Arın said.
A feeling he hadn't even known existed stirred inside him. Was this anger?
As his hand slowly moved toward his sword, İlyara stepped in front of him.
Was she protecting the guard?
For some reason, he didn't like that thought at all.
"Ah, İlyara, my dear," a woman's voice said. This must be the Elna İlyara had mentioned. "I can't allow Veyra's puppet to get any closer to the members of the Council."
Whenever he heard the woman's voice, he felt an uneasiness he couldn't explain.
"Even by bringing him all the way here, I've already broken several Council rules."
She didn't even give İlyara a chance to speak. How had she managed to stay with someone like that for days?
"I'll always be by your side," Arın said. "You don't have to listen to her."
Yes, he was by her side. He had made a bond pact with her. They were bound to each other now.
Elna laughing at Arın's words alone would have been enough reason for him to kill her. But what would İlyara think?
"Excuse me," Elna said to İlyara. "Those aren't words I'd expect from a puppet."
She wasn't entirely wrong. After all, what was the only thing... that mattered to Arın?
Then he heard the white-armored guard's voice.
"You heard the Council President," Kortegin said to İlyara. "If you won't follow the rules, we can't let you in."
His voice sounded very familiar, but every time he tried to remember, he found himself in a void.
"Let's go," Arın said, taking İlyara's hand.
But İlyara slowly pulled her hand away from his.
"I need to find out what's going on," she said. "I have nothing to lose."
Was there really nothing to lose?
Arın looked at her silently for a moment. Then he stood straight and placed a hand over his chest.
"I'm here."
Arın was serious when he said it.
"I know," İlyara said softly. "But I want to stay here."
At that very moment, İlyara's stomach growled.
İlyara pulled back slightly.
"Besides, I'm hungry," she said with a smile, then turned away.
"Have him wait in the guest room," the guard said.
"Why?" İlyara asked.
"Puppets have sharp ears," Elna said. "We can't let him carry our words back to Veyra."
If Master Veyra gave him an order, of course he would carry it out.
"Will you wait for me in my room?" İlyara asked.
Arın frowned.
"Is that what you want?"
İlyara looked away and turned her back to him.
"Yes."
When the door closed, Arın was left alone with the guards waiting outside the door.
"Let's go," one of them said. Then he prodded Arın with the white, tasselled spear in his hand.
They must have wanted to die.
And they would.
But for now, he would follow İlyara's wishes and go to her room.
When he entered the room, the guards locked the door behind him. Then they began standing guard outside.
Was he being held prisoner?
Only a fool would try to imprison a Morhena.
He felt the corner of his mouth curl upward. He was smiling now.
Could he be regaining his emotions? He frowned at the thought.
Could this be possible?
Then... would he want to feel his emotions again? What use would they be?
Suddenly, images of İlyara appeared in his mind. She was smiling, getting angry, crying.
Would he want to feel her? Her touch, her breath against his skin...
When he felt his heart speeding up, he shook his head to pull himself out of his thoughts.
İlyara was far away from him, but whenever he imagined her, it was as if his heart came alive again.
Could İlyara really be his fated mate?
---
Arın had been pacing around the room for a while. He regretted leaving İlyara alone with that woman. Maybe he should kill every last one of them and camp in the forest together again.
He would take care of the food and protection. He was strong, immortal. That way, İlyara would also be protected from foreign emotions.
Yes, it was a perfect plan.
Suddenly, he felt his heart tighten. It was as if someone had squeezed it from the inside, causing him pain.
This was not normal at all.
He approached the door.
"Open the door," he ordered.
First came the sound of laughter. Then the door was struck with a spear.
"Shut up," one of the guards said.
He had become far too soft. He was nothing like himself. Had they started looking down on him because of it?
He took a few steps back from the door, then started running toward it. But when something appeared in front of him, he stopped in his tracks. He immediately drew his sword.
"Who are you?" he asked.
A man in a burgundy cloak, carrying a cane, stood in front of the door.
"I am of no importance," the man said.
He must have been using substances such as dust or stone to perform different types of magic. Otherwise, men couldn't possess magical powers.
"İlyara," the man said.
Arın tensed the moment he heard İlyara's name.
Had something happened to her?
"Elna is the Ancient," the man said. "If you don't get there in time, İlyara will die."
She'll die...
İlyara can't die.
Arın ran toward the door without a second thought. The man in front of him threw something onto the ground and disappeared into the black smoke. Arın, however, kept moving without stopping. He passed straight through the smoke and slammed his shoulder into the door.
The door tore free from its hinges with a tremendous crash and became embedded in the opposite wall. The guards recovered from their shock and turned their spears toward Arın. But Arın had no time to deal with them.
İlyara was in danger.
He swung his sword at a speed too fast for either of them to see, then started running toward the dining hall before they even hit the ground.
"No!"
The moment he heard İlyara's scream, he felt the veins inside him tense. Before the guards at the door even had a chance to defend themselves, he swung his sword again. The white palace was practically painted red by now.
By the time he reached the dining hall, he had taken down everyone who crossed his path.
When he kicked the door, it flew open and slammed hard against the side wall, echoing through the hall.
Arın quickly scanned the room. He first spotted a woman dressed in black, looking out the window. Then he noticed the long white table in the middle of the hall. But the table was covered in blood.
When he heard İlyara's sobs, he quickly made his way to the head of the table. İlyara was crying beside the head of a white-armored man.
Who was this man?
When he noticed the white, tasselled helmet lying on the floor, he frowned. Then he took a few steps toward İlyara.
This had to be Kortegin. He felt as though he had seen this face somewhere before. But where?
"Ah, the puppet has arrived too."
Arın quickly turned his sword toward the voice. It was the woman who had been looking out the window. She had to be Elna... or was she the Ancient?
"İlyara," Arın said, without taking his eyes off Elna. "I think Elna... is the Ancient."
İlyara continued pressing her hand against the wound on Kortegin's neck as if she hadn't heard Arın. It looked like Kortegin had been stabbed in the neck.
"Dad," İlyara whispered. "Open your eyes."
Dad?
"Is he your father?" Arın asked.
Elna, meanwhile, watched them with a smile.
"Yes," Elna said. "He's also your commander. Don't you remember?"
His commander?
"Never mind," the woman said. "It doesn't matter."
Elna frowned and pointed at Arın's free hand.
"What's that?"
Arın raised the hand Elna had pointed at and began examining it.
"W-Was that a bond mark?" Elna asked. Then she looked at İlyara. "Did you make a bond pact with a Morhena too?"
Her voice was filled with disgust and disappointment. But İlyara continued pressing her hand against the wound on Kortegin's neck.
"I told you a bond like this was unnecessary!" Elna shouted. Then she turned her gaze toward Arın.
"He will lead you to ruin."
She kept her eyes fixed on Arın. As her eyes turned red, her pupils disappeared completely.
"He will betray you," she said. Her voice grew more muffled with every second. "They always do."
She began to laugh as she spoke her final words.
"Yes, they do," she murmured. Then she fixed her gaze on Arın's eyes. "I'll free you from this burden."
Arın involuntarily drew the sword away from Elna. Then he swung it toward his marked hand, held up in the air.
His hand came off at the wrist and fell in front of İlyara.
Why had he done that?
He should have.
Who had told him that he could have that mark?
He didn't deserve it.
Arın paid no attention to his hand lying on the floor, keeping his eyes locked on Elna... or perhaps he couldn't look away.
Yes. Yes... she must have been making him do this. The Ancient.
"Ahh!"
While trying to break free from the Ancient's mind game, he heard İlyara's scream.
İlyara rushed toward the Ancient and swung the bloodied knife in her hand at her, shouting:
"I won't let you take him from me too!"