Two years passed
The north tower had transformed under Lyria's care. What was once a dusty storage room now felt like a small home. Curtains made of cheap fabric covered the windows to add some warmth, and a patched rug decorated the cold stone floor. It wasn't luxurious, but it was enough.
Vaelor had grown faster than normal. At two years old, he already walked steadily and pronounced scattered words with surprising clarity. Noble children his age barely babbled, but he seemed to have an understanding of the world beyond his short life.
"Li...yria." The little boy said as he tugged on the servant's dress.
"Yes, young master?" Lyria bent down to his level with a smile.
"Why... dark?"
The question was simple but loaded with meaning. Vaelor pointed to the black blindfold covering his eyes. Lyria had put it on him a few weeks earlier when she noticed the boy trying to pull down the window curtains to see outside.
"It's to protect others, young master." Lyria explained softly. "His eyes are special. Very powerful. So much that they can scare people without meaning to."
"Scare?" Vaelor tilted his head. "Lyria... scared?"
"No." She stroked his black hair, soft as silk. "I will never be afraid of you."
The boy seemed satisfied with the answer. He fell silent for a moment, processing the information with that strange maturity that characterized him.
"Others... scared?" he finally asked.
Lyria hesitated. She didn't want to lie, but she also didn't want to hurt him.
"Yes, young master. Others get scared. But that's not your fault. It's just... how the world works."
'For now,' she added silently. 'But someday, I'll show you the world can be different.'
◇ ◇ ◇
Days in the tower followed a strict routine.
In the mornings, Lyria woke before dawn to prepare breakfast. Food arrived through a small door at the base of the tower, left by servants who never dared to come up. Usually, it was leftovers from the main kitchen, but Lyria always found a way to make it presentable.
"Today we have bread with butter and some fruit, young master." She announced as she placed the plate in front of Vaelor.
The boy ate silently, with surprisingly refined manners for someone who had never seen another person eat. Lyria suspected those behaviors came from somewhere deeper, from that part of Vaelor that sometimes seemed much older than his body.
After breakfast came lessons. Lyria was not an educated woman, but she had learned to read and write during her time in the castle, and she passed that knowledge to the little boy with unwavering dedication.
"This is the letter A, young master. A for Ashford."
"A... for Aldric." Vaelor replied in a tone that made Lyria shiver.
'Does he know who his father is?' she wondered. 'I don't remember telling him his name.'
But she decided not to probe. There were things about Vaelor that simply escaped her understanding, and she had learned to accept them.
In the afternoons, Lyria read stories aloud while Vaelor listened attentively. They were old books she had found abandoned in the tower, tales of heroes and dragons, kings and battles. The boy seemed particularly fascinated by stories involving beasts.
"Lyria." He interrupted one day. "Do dragons... exist?"
"Some people say yes, young master. That they live in very distant places, where humans cannot reach."
"I want... to see one."
Lyria laughed softly.
"Maybe someday you will."
'I wish I could give you that dream,' she thought sadly. 'I wish I could give you the whole world.'
◇ ◇ ◇
When Vaelor turned four, the incident happened.
It was a stormy night. Thunder shook the tower and lightning lit the sky with bursts of white light. Lyria had gone out briefly to fetch more firewood for the fireplace, leaving Vaelor alone for the first time.
The boy was restless.
Something inside him, an instinct he couldn't explain, urged him to move. To explore. The tower door was never locked from the inside, as Lyria needed to come and go freely. And that night, Vaelor discovered how to open it.
Ashford castle was enormous.
Endless corridors stretched in all directions, barely lit by torches casting dancing shadows. Vaelor walked aimlessly, guided by something he didn't fully understand. His bare feet tapped silently on the stone floor.
'I know this place...'
The thought came out of nowhere. It was impossible, of course. He had never been outside the tower. But the certainty remained, like an echo of something forgotten.
Then he heard a voice.
"Who's there?"
Vaelor stopped. In front of him, in the dim hallway, stood a girl about his age. She had black hair with white streaks, and her blue eyes shone with curiosity and fear.
It was Iris Ashford. His younger sister.
Before he could react, the girl raised a candle to see better.
Their eyes met.
And terror began.
◇ ◇ ◇
Iris's scream echoed throughout the castle.
It was a heart-wrenching sound, full of a panic no four-year-old should experience. She fell to the floor, trembling uncontrollably as tears ran down her cheeks.
"NO! NO! STAY AWAY!"
Vaelor instinctively stepped back. His heart pounded and a knot formed in his throat.
"So this is... what I am."
It wasn't the first time he intellectually understood his curse. Lyria had explained it many times. But experiencing it firsthand, seeing absolute terror in someone's eyes... that was different.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, though he knew she couldn't hear him over her own screams.
He turned and ran.
He ran until his legs burned, until his lungs begged for air, until he finally found the tower door and took refuge inside.
Lyria found him curled up in a corner, trembling.
"Young master!" She knelt beside him, alarmed. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"I saw... someone." Vaelor's voice was barely a whisper. "A girl. She got scared. A lot."
Lyria closed her eyes and sighed.
"Oh, young master..."
"Lyria." Vaelor lifted his head, and though his eyes were covered, she could feel his gaze. "Will it... always be like this?"
The servant hugged him tightly.
"I don't know." She admitted. "But I promise we will find a way for you to be happy. No matter how. No matter the cost."
Vaelor didn't answer. He simply let himself be held, feeling the warmth of the only person in the world who wasn't afraid of him.
'Someday,' he silently promised. 'Someday, I will make this curse mean something.'