"I was neither chosen nor destined for glory. But if fate denies me, then I shall forge my own path."
I jolted awake, my body drenched in cold sweat. A lingering dizziness clouded my senses, making every movement feel sluggish. Yet, I forced myself to turn toward the source of the voice.
A girl sat at the edge of my bed, her hair as white as clouds, her porcelain-like face sculpted with delicate perfection, and her eyes—calm and blue like the midday sky.
Kazura Soratha. Zura.
"Nio? Are you alright?"
Her soft, cool hand pressed against my forehead, gauging my temperature with eyes filled with concern.
I mustered a smile, hiding the lingering fear that haunted me each night. I didn't want Zura to worry.
"I'm fine. Just another nightmare." My voice was light, though unease still lurked beneath it. I added, "I dreamed about falling from a great height this morning."
Zura arched an eyebrow, her expression doubtful. "Really? But you always wake up drenched in cold sweat like this."
She pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped my forehead, her movements tender like those of a mother tending to her child.
I leaned back, just slightly—not because I disliked it, but because Zura's constant care sometimes made me feel like an overgrown baby who couldn't survive without a caretaker.
She sighed, perhaps disappointed by my reaction. But I needed space, even in the warmth of her concern.
Silence stretched between us until I finally broke it. "So?" I turned to her, trying to shift the mood. "What brings my beautiful fiancée here so early in the morning?"
A small smile played on her lips as if she were choosing her words carefully before speaking. "There's an urgent meeting. The Emperor has summoned you to the throne room."
"I see." I nodded, pushing myself up. "I'll get ready right away. You can go ahead if you're prepared."
Zura studied me for a moment before nodding and rising to her feet. Her steps were light, but something within me resisted watching her leave so easily. I watched until her figure disappeared beyond the door, leaving behind a swirl of emotions I couldn't quite put into words.
Once Zura's footsteps had fully faded beyond the door, I rose from the bed, shrugging off my night robe without caring where it fell. Standing before the mirror, I stared at my reflection—my body clad only in calf-length trousers.
Dark red hair—a signature trait of the imperial family. Crimson eyes. A thin frame that looked as though only skin stretched over bone. A body seemingly frozen at the age of twelve, despite the truth that I was already fifteen. At a mere 147 centimetres tall, it was no wonder people mistook me for a child. Even Zura, at eighteen years old, towered over me by eighteen centimetres. If we walked together, it wasn't hard to imagine strangers assuming she was my older sister rather than my fiancée.
I sighed softly, then let my gaze fall to the pendant resting against my collarbone—a five-leaf clover with a deep green jade stone hanging from a cord the colour of vine tendrils. My fingers brushed over it, tempted, for a fleeting moment, to take it off. But I quickly banished the thought.
"Even in death, never take off this necklace, Nio… No matter if the whole world rejects you, I will always love you… forever."
A vision of a woman with long, pink hair and the pointed ears of the Elven kind flashed through my mind. Her golden eyes, usually so warm, were filled with panic and sorrow. I could still recall how she struggled, her tears falling endlessly as the Hierophants—the high priests of the temple—along with their Acolytes, dragged her away from me. Her fingers reached out as if hoping to grasp the child I had been, the child who could do nothing but stand there, frozen.
Back then, I had been small and weak.
Back then, all I could do was watch as her figure grew more distant, her cries drowned beneath the reverberating chants of prayers echoing through the temple halls—prayers that made it seem as though she were being purified of some grave sin.
Taking a deep breath, I shook off the memories. I had to hurry.
Grabbing the neatly folded clothes set out on the bedside table—no doubt prepared by the servants this morning—I quickly made my way to the unnecessarily large bathroom attached to my chamber.
Cold water splashed against my skin as I washed my face, chasing away the lingering drowsiness still clinging to my eyes. But no matter how much I tried to focus on the present, echoes of my dream—of that demon's voice—continued to dance in the corners of my mind.
It seemed that the demon was right. If I had power, perhaps I could silence those who mocked me as the empire's failed heir.
Damn it, what was I thinking?
Nothing good would come from accepting power from some unknown being.
I quickly ran the towel over my body, feeling the sensation of the skin that still seemed far too fragile, despite the gruelling training I had endured. I averted my gaze, forcing myself to finish getting ready as fast as possible. I didn't want to linger in this bathroom any longer. The space was too vast and too quiet, leaving my mind free to be consumed by memories I should have long forgotten and thoughts I had no business entertaining.
As I stepped out, the crisp morning air greeted me. I dressed in the garments prepared by the servants—a thin imperial robe that felt slightly oversized on my frame. Today would be a long day, and I had to hurry before I embarrassed the emperor—my grandfather—in front of the nobility.
Those people—those nobles who wished for my disappearance, hoping the title of crown prince would be given to someone more "worthy" of the imperial lineage.
They didn't know how many times I had begged my grandfather to relinquish my position to someone else. But his answer had always been the same: No.
What else could I do? The emperor had made his choice, even if the entire empire opposed it.
And because of that choice, I had to bear this responsibility, just like today.
I could only hope that my flaws wouldn't bring shame to my grandfather. And maybe—just maybe—I could prove that my existence held some worth.
Even if the world saw otherwise.
~~~
I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself before quickening my pace. I couldn't afford to be late to the throne room. The grand halls of the castle were already filled with nobles and important figures, all seemingly making their way to today's meeting as well.
Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. A thick aura of hatred clung to the air, making the hairs on my neck stand on end.
I turned my head.
A man stood there, towering over me with a far stronger build. His crimson hair marked his imperial bloodline, while his golden eyes—bright, sharp, and brimming with emotion—glinted with unmistakable disdain. His tall, broad-shouldered frame only made my own small and weak stature feel even more insignificant.
I didn't know him. But judging from his features, he was undoubtedly a member of the imperial family—an uncle or perhaps a cousin. Honestly, I couldn't remember all of them. My grandfather had too many concubines, and he even set a historical record in Midgaria by filling every chamber in the imperial harem during his reign.
The man sneered. "I didn't know the Emperor still kept filth in his main palace."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to tremble before him. His gaze was so piercing that I instinctively lowered my head, avoiding his eyes.
He took a step closer, each footfall echoing against the cold marble floor. I could feel the weight of his presence, like a predator that had just found easy prey.
"Do you think this place belongs to you?" His voice dropped to a quiet, menacing tone. "A talentless disgrace like you should know your place."
I clenched my jaw, holding back the storm brewing in my chest. This wasn't the first time I had heard such words. Since childhood, I had grown used to the condescending stares and hushed whispers that branded me as the imperial family's greatest mistake.
But that didn't make it any easier.
The man suddenly grabbed my collar, hoisting me off the marble floor. My feet dangled in the air as I was forced to meet his cold, gleaming eyes.
"Listen carefully," he hissed. "No matter what happens in the throne room today, you will stay silent. You will not speak, and you certainly won't volunteer for the special unit His Majesty is forming for the new Astral Voyager."
I held my breath. They were really going through with it. I had suspected as much, but hearing him confirm it made the weight of reality press even heavier on my chest.
I had already heard from the Emperor that they would be performing the Astral Voyager summoning ritual again. This would be the fifth time in recent years proof that the crisis caused by the Abyss Gates had yet to be resolved, even with the existing Astral Voyagers.
"I don't care what you're thinking, Elenio." That guy tightened his grip as if making sure I absorbed every word. "Don't cause trouble. Don't draw attention to yourself. You're already enough of a disgrace as it is."
I wanted to slap his hand away. I wanted to look him in the eye and tell him I didn't care about his warning.
But I did nothing.
I simply stood there, letting his hatred drench me like an unrelenting downpour.
Then, another voice cut through the tension—calm yet sharp enough to shatter the moment.
"Finnian!"
A man with long, shoulder-length red hair—the unmistakable mark of the imperial bloodline—approached us. He was clad in the long white robes of the Hierophants, adorned with intricate golden embroidery tracing elaborate patterns along the sleeves and hem. A sash decorated with blue crystal ornaments wrapped around his waist while a sheer outer robe fluttered softly with each step he took. His shoulders bore a layered mantle, and upon his chest was the sacred emblem of Midgaria, carved with exquisite detail.
Uncle Arcanis.
The only person in this imperial palace, aside from Grandpa, who stood by my side. As the current Hierophant of the temple, he often shielded me whenever the nobles or other family members sought to demean me.
"The meeting is about to begin. Why are you still here?" His voice was calm and wise, though his sharp gaze left no room for argument.
The man called Finnian released his grip on me, letting my body drop to the ground. I stumbled slightly, struggling to regain my balance before I could fall completely.
"Brother?" Finnian took a step back from me, his demeanour shifting to something more composed. "I was just taking a short walk, Brother. I was about to head inside."
Uncle Arca gave him a small nod before turning his attention to me.
"Are you sure you weren't harassing Elenio?" he asked, gently placing his hand on my head. His touch was light but grounding.
Finnian let out a dry chuckle. "Hahaha… Of course not, Brother. Well then, I'll be going in first." Without waiting for a response, he quickly made his way into the meeting hall, leaving me alone with Uncle Arca.
His hand remained on my head as if he could sense the unease still lingering inside me.
"Sorry if he bothered you." Uncle Arca offered a soft smile, warm yet steady. "His words can be harsh, but believe me, he's a good kid."
I only gave a small nod.
"Come on, let's go in. The meeting is about to start."
I took a deep breath, feeling a little calmer walking beside him. But the fear still clung to my chest, weighing me down.
At the very least, I had to keep myself in check today. I couldn't afford to embarrass Grandpa in front of the nobles.
Hopefully.