The golden door stood before Rudra, impossibly tall, radiating warmth into the endless void. Its surface shimmered with shifting patterns — sometimes runes, sometimes memories — as though the wood itself breathed with life. Light leaked from its edges, bleeding into the darkness that had caged him for so long.
Rudra stared, trembling. His chest tightened with awe and fear. The darkness pressed against him, whispering doubts into his ears, urging him to turn away. But the voice of his mother lingered, soft yet unyielding:
"It is time to choose."
The Confrontation
His fists shook at his sides. He took a step forward — and faltered.
"What if I open it… and you're not there? What if this light is just another lie?!"
Silence.
His throat burned. His voice cracked as he shouted into the emptiness:
"Why did you leave me?! Why did Father die?! Why did I have to suffer alone all these years?!"
From the glow of the door, her voice came, gentler than before yet carrying weight like stone:
"We did not leave you. Destiny tore us away. But even death cannot end what binds us to you. Love does not vanish, Rudra — only your trust in it does."
The words struck him like arrows. His knees buckled. He collapsed to the ground, palms slamming against the void beneath him. Tears streamed down his bruised face.
"I don't want to fight anymore," he whispered hoarsely. "Everything feels so heavy… so dark…"
The radiant hand from before appeared again, brushing his hair back. The touch was achingly familiar, the same way his mother once soothed him after nightmares.
Her voice whispered:
"This place is dark because you made it so. You clung to pain until it became your world. But pain is not the end of your story. It is the forge that shapes you."
Rudra's breath caught. His eyes widened, shimmering with tears.
.
"These… these are the doubts inside me…"
The voice responded:
"Yes. Your mistrust, your rage, your fear — you bound yourself. You do not see enemies in others, Rudra. You see only the reflection of your own fear. Break them."
He pulled at the chains, but they only tightened, biting into his flesh. His body shook with pain, tears dripping onto the void below.
"I can't… I can't do it alone…"
"Then you are not alone," the voice said firmly. "Look."
The Windows of Memory
The darkness around him fractured. Shards of light burst open, forming glowing windows. Each one revealed a face — Richerd, standing silently yet always watching over him; Alex, grim but unyielding, who believed in his strength; Victoria, weeping at his bedside, refusing to let go of his hand.
Rudra's lips trembled as he reached out toward the images. His heart ached.
"They… they care about me?"
The voice grew warmer.
"Yes. You were not abandoned. They chose to stay. You are not bound by the past alone — you are bound to those who walk beside you now."
The sight pierced through his despair. His body convulsed as he let out a guttural cry, pulling with all his strength. The chains rattled, cracking. With each memory, with each tear, they shattered one by one, exploding into sparks of light.
At last, the final chain binding his throat snapped. Rudra collapsed, coughing, his hands gripping the void.
But when he lifted his head again, his eyes no longer looked hollow. They burned with life.
Outside the Chamber
Victoria gasped as Rudra's flames suddenly surged, wrapping his arms in blue fire. She cried out, pressing harder against his hand despite the heat scorching her skin.
"Rudra! Stay with me!"
Richerd took a step forward, but stopped. Something told him this was not a fight he could interfere in. He clenched his fists and silently prayed.
The healers outside the chamber pressed their ears to the walls, murmuring prayers of their own. Everyone in the mansion felt it — a heavy presence, as if the boy was wrestling not against death, but against destiny itself.
The Door Opens
Inside, Rudra stood again. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, sweat dripping from his brow, but his eyes locked onto the golden door. No longer afraid, no longer uncertain.
He stepped forward. Each stride echoed like thunder across the void. The door groaned, light spilling wider with every approach.
When he reached it, his trembling hand stretched out. He hesitated only once, whispering:
"Mother… will I see you again?"
The voice answered, quite yet unwavering:
"We are always with you, Rudra. In your strength, in your kindness, in your courage. Carry us, and you will never walk alone."
His palm pressed against the surface.
The golden door opened.
The Garden Beyond
Light flooded the void, devouring the shadows. For the first time in what felt like centuries, warmth kissed his skin. Rudra blinked against the brilliance — and then his breath caught.
A garden stretched before him, overflowing with flowers of impossible colors. Blue lotuses shimmered in streams of crystal water. Trees swayed in golden wind. The air itself seemed to hum with life.
Rudra stepped inside, his heart trembling. Tears blurred his vision. He fell to his knees in the field of blossoms, clutching the earth with shaking hands.
"So… this world… it's not only cruel…"
His lips parted in a broken smile, the first in years. "It's… beautiful."
The voice whispered one final time:
"Remember this, Rudra. The world is both cruel and kind. You must walk through both."
The Awakening
Outside, the flames around Rudra's body flickered violently — and then vanished in an instant. His chest heaved, and his eyes flew open.
Victoria gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Richerd staggered back, stunned.
Rudra blinked, staring at the ceiling. His breaths came sharp, desperate, as though he had just clawed his way out of drowning waters. Then his gaze shifted — meeting Victoria's tearful eyes.
"V…Victoria…?" His voice was hoarse, fragile.
She collapsed against him, clutching him tightly, sobbing into his chest. "You came back… You finally came back…"
Richerd closed his eyes, exhaling a long, shaky breath. Relief, rare and heavy, washed over him.
But as Rudra lifted his trembling hand to return Victoria's embrace, a faint flicker of blue fire danced across his fingertips. It was soft, almost gentle — but hidden deep within it was something else. Something darker, lingering.
Rudra's eyes clouded for just a moment. His lips curved into a faint smile, but behind it, shadows stirred.
When the darkness finally began to fade, Rudra found himself standing in a vast field of flowers. Their colors stretched endlessly under a golden sky, swaying gently in a breeze that carried the scent of life and peace. For the first time in what felt like ages, his heart was calm, almost… delighted.
From across the field, he saw two familiar figures. Richerd and Victoria were waiting for him, their faces bright with warmth as they called out his name. Their voices echoed through the field like music, filling him with a longing he could barely contain.
Step by step, Rudra began to move toward them. The flowers bent softly under his feet, petals brushing his legs as if urging him forward. Every pace lightened the weight on his chest, every breath filled him with warmth.
Just as he was about to reach them, a pull tugged at him — gentle yet unrelenting. His vision blurred. The light of the field faded.
His eyes opened, if only for the briefest moment, and the dream dissolved back into reality.
With a faint, weary smile, Rudra whispered, "Sorry, Mom… I made you worry."
The words lingered in the air, soft and fragile, before his eyes closed again and his body sank back into unconsciousness.
Victoria's eyes shimmered with tears. For a heartbeat, her world froze — relief and fear colliding in her chest. She had heard his voice. She had seen his smile. He was alive.
"Quick!" she called, her voice trembling. "Fetch the city healer at once — and inform Sir Richerd that Rudra has awakened!"
The maid bowed swiftly and rushed through the corridors, her footsteps echoing against the marble floors. She found Richerd in his library, buried in old manuscripts and maps of forgotten lands. Her words came breathless, urgent:
"Sir, young master Rudra has awakened! Lady Victoria calls for you at once!"
Richerd froze. For the first time in days, his hands stilled on the yellowed pages. His eyes widened, and without a word, he rose from his chair, his heavy boots striking hard against the stone floor as he followed the maid.
Within moments, Richerd and Victoria stood together at Rudra's bedside.
Victoria clutched Rudra's hand, her voice breaking as she said, "I saw it… I saw him awake. He smiled at me, Richerd."
Richerd placed a steady hand on her shoulder. His stern eyes softened for once, and a rare smile flickered across his face.
"Yes… I'm certain that's the case. His strength hasn't left him. We will see him smile again — not just in passing, but as he truly should."
For the first time in what felt like years, hope blossomed in that quiet chamber. The two of them lingered there, hearts lightened by a fragile spark of joy — unaware of the storms and revelations the future still held for them.