✦ "To yearn for what you think you see gives you fleeting joy—an empty illusion. But refusing to hear and see what truly is… traps you in darkness, forcing others to serve a truth you can't accept."
Cristal was breathing heavily, her eyes scanning the hidden trunk of Rasen's belongings like they were questions she never dared to ask. Photos of foreign moments, letters written with a tenderness she had never received from him, memories of a life she had never shared. Each item pierced her chest like a stake.
—Bastard! —she screamed, hurling a framed photograph against the wall. It shattered like her heart.
Frantically, she grabbed a pair of scissors and began cutting the pictures. Her hands trembled, but rage kept her going—like a storm that refused to calm. Every cut was a mute cry. Every piece of paper that hit the floor was a desperate attempt to erase a history that was never hers. But no matter how much she destroyed, the memories clung to her like a curse.
—Why? —she sobbed, kneeling beside the shards. Her voice cracked—Why was I never enough?
The mirror reflected a twisted version of herself, marred by tears and fury. She punched it. Glass cracked, blood followed. She didn't care.
—I'm the problem… —her whisper was guilt and despair tangled together. But deep beneath it—resentment burned. A refusal to accept that her love had gone unanswered.
She isolated herself for days. When Rasen finally returned—body exhausted, eyes vacant—Cristal smiled as if nothing had happened.
—Your key —she said, handing it to him with a neutral expression. She had kept a copy.
He barely glanced at her, muttering something unintelligible as he disappeared into the shadows.
Days later, Lionel knocked softly.
—Cristal, may I come in?
Wearing a silk robe that seemed heavier than her body, she looked at him blankly.
—What do you want?
He leaned against the frame, careful.
—Rasen is still gone. I don't know when he'll return. How are you?
Cristal laughed bitterly.
—How am I? Do you even care? I'm just another pawn in his game, aren't I? Like you. Like everyone.
Lionel didn't reply right away. He stepped forward, his usual indifference melting into grim seriousness.
—Cristal, I know you're hurting… but this? It won't help. Tearing yourself apart won't change anything.
She stood abruptly, fury in her eyes.
—What do you suggest, Lionel? That I wait? That I keep pretending I'm a side note in his story?
He held her gaze, equal parts compassion and iron.
—Maybe it's time to stop clinging to something that was never yours.
Her slap came fast and sharp. Lionel didn't flinch. He didn't raise a hand. He just looked at her—sadness now mixed with something heavier. Resignation.
—If it makes you feel better… go ahead —he said quietly.
Cristal recoiled, hands trembling. Tears flowed, but her voice had vanished.
The next week, the doctor brought news she'd secretly yearned for.
—Ma'am, the symptoms are clear —he said, pausing— Congratulations. You're pregnant.
Cristal breathed deeply. The floor felt like it crumbled beneath her. The sunlight failed to warm her. She was pregnant. The word wrapped her in fog.
"Do I really want this child? Or is it just another chain destiny has locked around me?"
The doctor congratulated her again. His voice came from the other side of an emotional abyss. Once the door closed, she hugged herself. Life grew inside her—but instead of hope, she felt vertigo.
She felt a bond she couldn't ignore. But it didn't feel like freedom. It felt like a trap.
Later, Lionel entered. His face bore both pity and judgment.
—You're playing with fire, Cristal —he said firmly, though his tone trembled with genuine worry.
—And what if I am? —she shot back, arms crossed, defiant— I'm tired of putting out fires while everyone else lights them.
Lionel shook his head, stepping closer.
—This isn't a game. That baby… Rasen may never accept it.
She turned away. Her lips trembled.
—And who says he has to? I didn't ask for permission.
He searched for the right words.
—Rasen isn't just broken. He's a ticking bomb. If he sees that child as a curse… what will you do?
Cristal's fists clenched.
—I don't know, Lionel. But I can't pretend it's not happening.
He sighed deeply.
—Do what you must. Just know—if he collapses, he'll take everything you love with him.
Alone again, Cristal stared at the broken mirror. Her eyes glimmered with a terrible certainty.
"When they're born, he'll love them. I'll make sure of it. But first… something needs to be erased."
Her own gaze stared back—haunted. Hardened.
Later that night…
Cristal stood alone in the lower corridor, cloaked in silence. The torches flickered. She waited.
A presence stepped from the shadows.
—You summoned me. —The voice was deep, familiar. It didn't echo—it devoured sound.
Cristal didn't flinch. Her fingers held a folded paper.
—I want her gone. The girl.
A low growl vibrated in the air, not from anger—but agreement.
—The White Wolf would not forgive this.
—Then don't let it trace back to me —she said, her tone sharpened by desperation.
The figure tilted its head. Moonlight struck just enough to reveal dark fur at the collar. A glint of crimson in the eye.
The Ebony Wolf.
—All debts have cost. Are you ready to pay yours?
Cristal hesitated, then nodded.
—Just make sure she never touches him again.
A silence stretched, cold and brutal.
—Consider it done.
And then he vanished into the corridor, leaving only the scent of ash and snow.
Cristal stayed still for a moment. Then whispered:
—I'm sorry, Aisha.
Far from there, in the solitude of the tower, Rasen writhed in shadows.
The voices in his mind were relentless.
"Even the brightest life dies when I touch it. How can I raise a child when everything I touch decays?"
Memories haunted him—his choices, his damage. And now… Cristal.
—I don't want this… —he whispered, trembling hands covering his face.
Chains in the room shifted as if alive, echoing his torment. Aisha's words—faint but eternal—echoed:
"You don't have to be what they say you are."
—Then what am I? —he screamed to the void. —I'm not a monster…
Chains slammed the walls. Aisha's image burned in his mind like an open wound.
"Why can't I forget you?"
His voice cracked, his pain absorbing all light.
Chains writhed. An old man wandered near the tower. The chains lashed out, lifting him like a puppet. Rasen, with a guttural cry, stopped them.
—No! —he shouted, collapsing.
He rose unsteadily, steps leading him deeper into his own abyss.
"If this is what I must do to survive…" —he murmured, eyes emptying.
He wandered into a withered garden. Crimson roses bloomed vibrantly—until his touch wilted them to ash.
Clutching his arm, Rasen hesitated before the trembling homeless man.
Chains floated—hungry.
—No… You won't hurt anyone —Rasen growled with the last of his control.
Just then, Lionel emerged, carrying the lifeless body of a child.
—Look, Rasen. This is who you are. This is what you do.
The words shattered something inside him. He fell to his knees, hands over his face, a guttural scream erupting from his core.
Cristal rushed in, a vial in her hand.
—Rasen, please… let me help —she begged, desperate.
Without waiting, she injected the serum into his arm. But his eyes—now black voids—held no recognition. Only storm.
—I just want the pain to stop… —he whispered, before passing out in her arms.
Cristal held him, trembling.
—I won't let you fall, Rasen… I won't.
From the shadows, Lionel watched, his voice low:
—He's losing himself. The man we knew is almost gone.
Meanwhile…
Aisha walked with purpose, her footsteps echoing her resolve. Broken promises and buried guilt weighed on her—but didn't stop her.
The wind kissed her face. She looked to the horizon.
—I won't be anyone's shadow —she whispered, her voice iron.
The dawn broke behind her. Warm light clashed with cold thoughts.
Each step took her closer to truth.
Closer to the battle that would reveal who she really was.
With every breath, Aisha became.
She was no longer who she had been.
And she would never again let someone else choose her path.