Wh…
Why…
WHY!?
Blood-stained hands tightened around the sword's grip, the blade raised in a high stance, ready to strike at any moment.
Tears streamed, washing dust and dried blood from Thomas's cheek. His eyes were red with an endless fury. He glared at two naked figures lying on the king's bed, only thin white sheets covering their shameless bodies. They were not strangers—but his own mother and the loyal servant who had killed his father.
"Th-Thomas… look, put the sword down. I-I… can ex-explain," she stammered, holding the white sheet tightly with her trembling hand.
"Wh-Why?" Thomas's lips trembled. His grip loosened.
The servant's eyes darted across the room, searching for anything he could use as a weapon.
Clothes were scattered over the floor–here and there. His gaze flickered to the sword. It lay within reach—almost.
With a swift motion, he grabbed the sword and swung it horizontally toward Thomas.
But Thomas had spotted his action earlier. He ducked the swing and, with a smooth flow, stabbed him through the heart.
"AAAAAAA!!!"
The sword slipped from the servant's hand.
The servant's hand clutched at his pierced chest, blood spilling as he desperately tried to save himself.
Blood slicked the hilt, threatening to tear the sword from Thomas's grasp. But he did not let it go and twisted the blade. Only one thought remained—kill.
"NOO!!!"
His mother threw away the blanket. She seized the knife stuck in the apple beside the bed.
She rushed at him, eyes wide, knife trembling. He did not hesitate.
Thomas, with a quick reflex, pulled out the sword and slashed at her. His blade passed through flesh and blood, ripping the strands that linked her head to her body.
Blood splashed over his eyes.
---
Thomas's eyes jolted open, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he stumbled backwards blindly.
He looked at his clean, trembling hands, then covered his face with them. "A nightmare…"
He looked up at the full moon that loomed in the starry sky. The moonlight stretching over the azure river signified the water's tranquillity. He crawled near the shore and washed his face with cold water, but his eyes lingered on his reflection.
That night, the bastard killed my father.
That same night, I caught him with my mother.
I killed them both.
I burned their bodies along with the palace—until nothing remained.
No one knows of her betrayal.
I buried the shame with fire. But memory cannot be burned. And those flames still burn inside me.
Suddenly, a faint glimmer stung his eyes.
What is this?
His eye fell on something shining at the bed of the river. He brushed away the settled soil and algae, which made the water murky. Then his finger touched something hard and cold. Something metallic. But it was stuck in the riverbed.
With a pull, a golden ring came out. Its surface shimmered in the moonlight. This shimmer changed something in him. His mind went blank and he put the ring on his index finger like a controlled puppet.
As the ring settled on his finger, it radiated a golden light of intense brilliance. Thomas tightly closed his eyes and covered them with his hand.
Suddenly, unease crawled beneath his skin, his heartbeat racing as an indication of looming danger. He peeked; everything seemed normal. But the sense of uneasiness did not fade.
He looked at the golden ring; it appeared like an ordinary ring, but when he tried to remove it, it did not move even a single bit, as if it had become a part of him.
"It's impossible to remove it."
Thomas's hand tightened over the hilt. He looked around but found nothing. "Who? WHO SAID THAT?"
Steel sang as the blade left its scabbard. Thomas was still searching for the source of the voice but had found nothing. Then he looked at the golden ring. This was the source of the problem.
He swung his sword, aiming to cut off his own finger. There was no hesitation in his movement.
Clank!
The blade slashed against his skin. But instead of cutting, it rebounded as if it had hit something hard. He blinked twice, disbelief furrowing his brow as he muttered, "No… that can't be right."
"Have you always been this eager to mutilate yourself, or has madness already claimed you?"
Again, a strange voice echoed on the shore, but its source was nowhere to be found.
"WHO ARE YOU? REVEAL YOURSELF, COWARD!"
Thomas shouted. He kept looking around, his grip around the hilt tightening.
"Coward? ME? Hahahahahah! You are really funny, blood prince."
Eerie laughter echoed in his ear like a mockery.
Suddenly, a huge shadow blocked the moonlight over him. A black feather dropped onto his shoulder.
Thomas gulped, slowly turning his head back. His face paled as he found a white man, his height double that of an average human. Ominous black wings spread wide. Golden pupils within black sclera stared at him.
He gave a slight beat of his wings and landed in front of him. A muscular hand crossed over his chest. "Nice to meet you, blood prince. I am Dire."
The sword dropped from Thomas's hand and he stumbled backward. He collapsed on the ground, his mouth gaping open and his pupils dilated.
Before Thomas could say or react to anything, Dire spoke. "This is an illusion; the real me is in this ring." Dire pointed at the golden ring. Thomas's eyes drifted toward the golden ring.
"I don't have any intention to harm you," Dire assured him. Even after Dire's harmless proclamation, Thomas's hands searched for the dropped sword. Then he asked, "W-Why are you…in this ring?"
"And, how…can I remove this?"