Liora's Point of View
The little bird had flown away.
Only the wind remained, dancing softly over the spot where it had perched—
as if erasing the traces of something that should have been impossible.
But in my palms, the strange sensation still lingered…
warm, pulsing, like a gentle flame that had just gone out.
I stared at my hands again.
My fingers weren't trembling, but my chest… that was what was shaking.
Something crawled slowly from the pit of my stomach, up my throat, then stopped there—
clenching tight from within.
"What… what did I just do…?"
My whisper shattered like thin glass.
It wasn't a dream.
The bird had truly healed.
Its torn wing had closed, its feathers had aligned neatly as though touched by a miracle I never knew existed.
A wrong miracle.
A dangerous miracle.
I swallowed hard.
Suddenly the room felt smaller.
The air became heavier.
The stone walls that moments ago felt calm now turned into silent eyes, watching me.
Magic.
Even the word hurt.
Like a tiny thorn that had just pricked my skin and was slowly sinking deeper.
I knew what happened to "pure-blooded noble children" who had no talent.
I knew what happened to those who possessed power they shouldn't have.
Since I was little, I'd heard the whispers from servants, from guards, even from my stepmother:
> "A child born without blessing brings shame and curses."
"If there's any sign of unusual power, report it to the Duke."
"Mixed blood gives birth to disgusting things—sometimes dangerous ones."
"I'm not… something disgusting…"
The words slipped out, weak, barely audible.
Then I quickly covered my mouth with my own hands,
as if afraid someone might hear through the door.
No.
No one must know.
No one must ever know.
If the Duke knew…
If my stepmother knew…
If Lucien or Kael knew…
I knew what they would do.
Or maybe I didn't know exactly—
but I could imagine enough to make my stomach twist.
They would look at me like a monster.
Like something to be thrown out, locked away, or erased.
I folded myself small, my back sliding against the cold wall until I felt its chill.
At least the cold was real.
At least it reminded me I was alive—still here—even if everything felt like a nightmare beginning to bare its teeth.
"I don't want this…"
My voice cracked.
But when I closed my eyes, I still saw the bird staring at me with its round little eyes—
not afraid, not angry, but… understanding.
As if grateful.
And that made my chest ache in a way I didn't have a name for.
If my magic could help that small creature…
If my magic didn't feel evil…
If it felt so warm when it flowed out of my hands…
Then why was I so afraid?
The question appeared like a thin mist.
But I wiped it away immediately—before it could take root.
Because the world didn't care whether my magic was good or bad.
The world cared only that I possessed magic.
I—an unwanted child, nameless, discarded… someone who should not exist.
And that alone was enough to make me dangerous in their eyes.
I pressed both hands over my mouth, holding back a sob desperate to escape.
I must not cry.
If I cried, my body would shake even more.
If I shook, I might not be able to stop.
The fear grew—
thin as a cloud at first, then darkening into a thick shadow.
A shadow I recognized too well, like something that had lived inside my bones and blood long before I was born.
I rubbed my palms again.
They were still warm.
But now…
that warmth made me want to throw up.
"No one must know…"
I whispered like a mantra.
"I have to hide it."
"I have to…"
Silence.
I straightened slowly, forcing my body to calm down.
If someone came in and saw me like this, they would suspect something.
I drew a long breath…
but it felt like pulling shards of ice into my lungs.
My throat burned.
My eyes stung.
But I held it in.
I had to—like always.
Outside the window, daylight filtered in, soft and warm…
but it didn't reach me.
I sat too far from it.
The room was too big.
Too foreign.
Too quiet.
Just like me.
I pulled the thin blanket toward me and sat closer to the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible.
If they wanted an unwanted child—
a little ghost they could ignore—
then I would become exactly that.
No one must know who I truly am.
No one must know what lies inside my body.
No one must know that the magic is… waiting.
Because if they knew…
I might not live long enough to see tomorrow.
---
I didn't know how long I'd been sitting like that—
back against the cold wall, knees to my chest, the worn blanket wrapped around me like the scraps of protection I never truly had.
The sun moved across the sky outside,
but its light stopped at the floor, never daring to touch me.
Or perhaps…
I was the one afraid to step into it.
As if standing in the light would make everything too clear—
that something was wrong with me.
That something inside me had awakened.
I looked down at my hands.
Slowly, almost nervously, I touched my own skin.
It still felt warm… a warmth not from the sun.
"Go away… please… disappear…"
I whispered as I rubbed my palms together, as though wiping away the traces of magic.
Of course it didn't disappear.
Magic wasn't a stain to wash off.
Not a wound that healed with time.
No… it felt like something etched into my bones.
Every time I breathed too deeply,
I felt that faint vibration in my chest—
as if something had opened its eyes for the first time.
I bit my lip, swallowing my tears.
If it happened again while someone was watching…
If Kael—with his ever-present hatred—realized what was happening…
If Lucien—with his blade-like coldness—caught wind of a rumor…
If my stepmother learned I possessed something her two sons did not…
I didn't know exactly what they would do.
But I knew it wouldn't be kind.
And no one here would protect me.
"It must not happen again. It mustn't. It mustn't…"
I clutched myself tighter, trying to stop the trembling.
But the shaking wasn't from the cold.
It came from something far deeper—
fear born from years of being a stain, a burden, an unwanted child.
It gnawed at me from within.
Time slipped by.
The room stayed quiet.
Sometimes, far off, I could hear servants passing in the halls, hurried footsteps, or my stepmother's sharp commands.
But none of them came near this door.
They didn't want to come close.
Or maybe… they simply forgot I existed.
That's fine.
Being forgotten is better than being hated.
I tried to steady my breathing, calm my racing heart.
But whenever I closed my eyes, the image of the bird returned.
Not when it flew away…
But when it fell.
Fragile, hurting, alone.
Just like me.
"I didn't mean to hurt you…"
I murmured to the memory of the bird, though it had flown far away.
But maybe…
I was actually speaking to myself.
I was afraid of my magic.
Afraid of my own body.
Afraid something inside me would break loose at the wrong moment.
The magic felt like a door slightly ajar.
And I didn't know what lay behind it.
Darkness… or light… or something far more terrifying.
All I knew was this:
I had to keep that door shut.
"I'm dangerous…"
The words escaped before I could stop them.
They pierced like needles.
Children my age shouldn't think such things.
But I stopped being a child in anyone's eyes long ago.
I was a burden.
A disgrace.
A stain.
A discarded child who survived long enough to remind them of their hatred.
And now…
If they learned I had magic…
They would have a reason to erase me completely.
I covered my face with both hands, biting my sleeve so my sobs wouldn't echo.
I didn't want to die.
Not yet.
Even if the world didn't want me…
Strangely, I still wanted to live.
Living hurt.
But dying…
Dying was cold.
Like the dark room where they once locked me.
Like the hours I spent alone without light.
Like the sound of the Duke's footsteps walking away as he said I must learn to survive if I wanted to stay alive in this house.
My chest tightened again.
I hugged my left arm with my right hand, trying to stop the shaking.
I was terrified of showing who I was.
Terrified of being discovered.
Terrified of this power.
But beneath all that fear…
there was something smaller, quieter, more painful:
I was afraid that maybe…
this was the only part of me that had any worth.
And that terrified me even more.
---
A Vow Born From Pain
I wiped my tears, breathing slowly.
No.
I couldn't cry all day.
Crying only made my head hurt, and my body was already too weak.
I needed to think.
I needed to choose.
If I wanted to stay alive…
If I wanted to survive in this house…
If I wanted to remain the shadow they forgot…
There was only one choice:
Hide the magic.
Bury it deep.
Never use it.
Never touch it.
Never even think of it.
I must pretend nothing happened.
The bird came, then flew away.
That's all.
No warm light in my hands.
No miracle.
No power.
If I wanted to live…
My magic had to die.