"Phew." Sara sighed, pulling her blindfold free the moment she was outside Vincent's chamber. "I've never seen anyone cry themselves unconscious before."
"The rules," Zero replied, his voice a cool, flat line.
There he goes again with his little obsession. Sara bit back the comment. But at least this man was worried about him… right? Sara glanced at Zero, though her friend's expression was as inscrutable as ever.
Sara glared, the blindfold dangling from her fingers. "I don't need this, besides the young master is asleep."
"You do not wish to disobey the rules and you know what happened to the last maid who thought she could handle the gaze of a Volcravak."
Sara knew. One of the other Volcravak children—a spiteful, older girl—had reduced a maid to a screaming, mindless wreck with a single look. The woman had died in an asylum, her mind shattered. The blindfold wasn't just tradition; it was a shield.
With a frustrated sigh, Sara retied the dark cloth over her eyes. "I'm not afraid of his eyes. He's kind, Nothing like his elder siblings."
"You're lucky we are friends and be careful what you say, The walls have ears."
"Right." Sara looked away, a knot of worry tightening in her stomach.
Zero gave a curt nod and turned to leave. "Take care of him."
"Are you going to report this to the Duchess?"
Zero paused he turned back slowly.
Aah. One more question, and I might lose more than my tongue. Sara felt a chill under Zero's unreadable gaze and quickly nodded her understanding. Without another word, Zero disappeared down the shadowed corridor.
•••••••
Inside the quiet room, Vincent lay motionless, a small figure swallowed by the vast bed. His eyes were hollow, fixed on the canopy above. He had no concept of time,he simply… was a vessel for a hope that had been extinguished.
A broken, ragged laugh escaped him. "Hah… Damn dragon. You succeeded." His voice was a dry whisper in the dark. "Why me? Why did you… damn it all! Why did Kotah forsake me? He promised! He promised to help me bring peace if I slew the dragon god!"
The memory was a fresh wound. "Because of him, I lost everything my family,My life, My kingdom." He clenched his small hands into fists. "Even my own soul weapon…" The words caught in his throat. His soul weapon had been more than a blade; it had been his life, his confidant, a piece of his very spirit.
The old, poisonous guilt flooded in, more potent than ever. If I had rejected Kotah's offer… would it have changed anything? If I hadn't been the selfish king who cared for his people more than his own family… if I had spent just one more day with them… would he…
A solitary tear traced a path from his hollow eye he knew the answer his heart had screamed for a lifetime.
"I know my son resented me."
GROOOWL
Vincent's stomach roared, a rude, physical interruption to his spiritual despair. For a five-year-old body, it was a miracle he'd lasted this long without its demands breaking through.
He sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room. I should eat. This child is my descendant, too. I can't damage his vessel because of my own ghosts.
He pushed himself up, a new, grim resolve settling in his bones. "There's no point dwelling in the past, It's done,my tears won't bring anything back. They won't change what happened." His whisper was a vow to the empty air. "I won't let that lizard make me feel worthless. The sin is mine to carry and I will protect my family. I was betrayed and Used, just as the dragon God said but why? Were they all just… pieces on a board?" He looked at his small hands. "My son built this house from the ashes of my failure and I won't let it fall."
Vincent slid from the bed and pulled back the heavy curtain the Pale morning light speared his eyes.
Ugh…It's already morning.
It was the predawn gloom. He thought of the maids, their worried whispers and Strangely, they'd left a five-year-old alone all night. No one had checked,no time to question their reasons.
"No more thinking," he muttered. "I need to awaken my Aura Heart."
Right now, he was flesh and bone, utterly mundane. For a normal child, awakening one's core before the age of ten was impossible. The body couldn't handle the shock; the spiritual pathway wasn't yet anchored.
But he was not a normal child he was a man with a will of forged iron, trapped in a vessel of glass. And he knew the oldest, cruelest principle of Aura: power answered the brink of death.
He walked to the ornate door leading to the private bathing chamber. Inside, the space was opulent and cold. A sunken marble tub, large enough for three adults, dominated the room. Ten thousand years, and comfort has become a god, he thought, shaking his head. Distraction was a luxury he couldn't afford.
Time was short and the maids would come soon.
With methodical calm, he began his grim work. He tore a sheet into long, sturdy strips. His small hands, clumsy with the task, tied one strip tightly around his ankle, securing it to a heavy, fixed faucet. He repeated the process with his other leg, and then his wrists, binding himself to the tub's immovable edges. The knots were crude but effective—a prisoner's knots.
He climbed into the empty, cold tub, his breath already coming in short puffs of vapor. He took the final strip of cloth, placed it between his teeth, and bit down.
This is madness. This body might break or worst case scenario I might simply… die.
But to walk forward powerless in a world that had devoured his old one? That was a slower death.
"For Ivan," he whispered around the gag.
With a final, decisive heave of his body, he wrenched the ornate golden lever.
Ice-cold water erupted from the spout, crashing over him with the force of a waterfall. The shock was absolute, a white-hot spear of agony that robbed him of breath. His heart seized, then hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. His small body convulsed, straining against the bonds, a primal instinct to survive screaming in every nerve.
Too cold—can't breathe—HELP!
Darkness nibbled at the edges of his vision. His struggles grew weaker. This was it—the precipice. The moment where the body's animal panic either consumed the mind or made way for something deeper.
He forced his consciousness inward, away from the freezing hell of his senses,passes the pounding heart, past the screaming lungs. He groped through the inner darkness, seeking the latent spark, the dormant core that every human possessed—the Aura Heart.
Nothing it was Just cold and silence.
'Shit! I'm fucked ! '