Blood...
Blood...
Blood...
Whispers...
K̶i̶l̶l̶...
K̶i̶l̶l̶...
K̶i̶l̶l̶...
A̴t̴t̴a̴c̴k̴...
D̶e̶s̶t̶r̶o̶y̶...
D̶o̶m̶i̶n̶a̶t̶e̶...
So much blood...
So many corpses...
Torn limbs...
Rolling heads...
A crimson sky...
And a silence that screams...
O̵p̵e̵n̵ ̵y̵o̵u̵r̵ ̵e̵y̵e̵s̵...
H̶e̶l̶l̶ awaits...
---
"Aaaaaaaaaaah!!"
A long scream, torn from the depths of the soul, shattered the silence of the study room.
Nevalis shot up from the chair like he'd been burned by the flames of reality.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breathing ragged, and his groaning sounded like a wounded man on the brink of death.
"No... no... nooooo!"
He clutched his head with both hands, as if trying to rip out the images—the blood, the hell—from his mind.
"What is this?!"
He cried out in horror, his face pale as if all the blood had drained from it.
"For hell's sake... what kind of nightmare was that?!"
His whole body trembled, as if the air itself had turned heavy, as if the darkness was pressing down on his chest.
"Ughhhh..."
He clasped his ears tightly, but the voice wouldn't stop.
Kill...
"Damn it!!! Shut up!!"
He screamed and collapsed to the ground, his back slamming against the cold wooden floor, his head hitting the ground without him even feeling it.
He panted, gasping as if he had just clawed his way out of a narrow grave.
His mind refused to forget.
Every image, every drop of blood, every corpse… still flashed behind his eyes.
Moments passed... or maybe lifetimes within them...
He writhed, hugging himself as if searching for lost warmth, for an impossible sense of safety.
His teeth chattered, and his body wouldn't stop shaking.
At times he moaned, and at other times he fell silent.
But his eyes… remained wide open, staring at the ceiling, unblinking.
Half an hour passed...
Then, slowly, he moved.
He sat on the floor, leaning back against the chair.
With a trembling hand, he clung to its edge like a drowning man.
Finally... he sat back on it.
He rested his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands.
His breathing was heavy... weary... broken.
---
The sound of hurried footsteps drew near.
The door burst open, and the servants rushed in, alarmed.
"Master!!"
They stopped, frozen in place when they saw him...
Sitting there, not raising his head, his body trembling, his breaths
shallow like someone dying.
One of them gasped. Another exchanged a terrified glance with a third.
"Master?!"
One of them approached cautiously, as if getting too close might shatter him.
Nevalis was still the same, head buried in his hands, trembling, surrounded by an eerie silence.
He didn't respond.
One of the servants signaled to the others and whispered:
"Take Master Nevalis to his room immediately… and fetch the healer."
---
Inside Nevalis' Room
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes, as if he was still trapped in the nightmare.
His body was limp, and his hand trembled ever so slightly. The air in the room was suffocating, filled with nothing but heavy silence.
He heard the servants' footsteps approaching the door, followed by hushed whispers:
"Did you inform the Count?"
"Yes… but he said he's busy."
Silence followed, wrapping the room in an invisible weight.
---
A few minutes later, someone knocked gently on the door.
Nevalis smiled faintly when he saw who it was.
The door opened quietly, and there stood Edward—the head servant of the Count's estate, the Count's left hand, and the official court mage.
Edward, the court mage, bore features that spoke of strength and wisdom earned over many long years.
He was tall, composed, dressed in a dark overcoat that reached his knees. Fine golden threads barely visible weaved through it—subtle, elegant, and noble—enchanted to shimmer softly when he moved.
His jet-black hair defied neatness, falling in soft waves over his forehead in a messy yet stylish manner. His skin was pale like snow, accentuating the sharpness of his features. Behind thin, shining glasses, a fleeting glint passed through his deep, black eyes.
As he stepped into the room, Edward looked at Nevalis gently and asked:
"How are you feeling now?"
Nevalis offered a weak smile and replied softly:
"I'm fine. It was just a nightmare."
At those words, a subtle change flickered across Edward's expression—a flash of concern and unease—but it vanished almost instantly, masked by his usual calm.
He looked at Nevalis in silence for a moment, then spoke quietly:
"Would you like to go out for a bit?"
Nevalis looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then responded in a low voice:
"Yes… I want to get out of here."
---
Shortly after, Nevalis and Edward boarded the enchanted noble carriage. It was a luxurious, dark vehicle, adorned with faintly glowing silver runes carved into its sides. As soon as Nevalis sat down inside, the carriage gave a soft magical hum and gently lifted off the ground.
It glided smoothly, flying low above the cobbled road, slicing through the fog like a silent cloud. The wind howled outside, while the sound of its magical wheels slid across the air like a distant, melancholic song.
Inside, silence reigned. Nevalis stared out the window, his eyes following the dense forests and ancient buildings slowly fading behind them. Though the palace was far behind, his heart remained burdened. The nightmare still echoed inside him—the blood still fresh in his thoughts.
After a few minutes, Nevalis spoke, his gaze fixed outside:
"By the way, Edward… where are we going?"
Edward looked at him, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes were filled with a strange look... a mix of deep affection and quiet sorrow, as if he were gazing at someone he dearly loved—someone he was about to lose.
But that emotion disappeared quickly, replaced by his usual composed demeanor.
Edward gave a faint smile, and there was something cryptic in his eyes.
Then he said, in an almost tender tone:
"I'm sorry for what's about to happen, young master... but it's for your own good."
Before Nevalis could react, Edward's hand moved swiftly—striking him with precise force on the neck.
Nevalis collapsed instantly.
The carriage halted.
Edward gently lifted Nevalis' limp body in his arms, stepping out of the carriage. His steps were heavy, as if burdened by what he had to do. There was something dark in his gaze—like the future was already written somewhere, and he was merely the one to carry it out.
He glanced down at Nevalis with a sorrowful expression and whispered:
"You'll have to face this trial alone, my boy… This is only the beginning."