Beginning of doom
1418 Words
Anara.
A full week had passed since the gala — and everything that came with it. The whispered speculations. The curious stares. The unexpected compliment.
But now… silence.
Lucien had buried himself in meetings, strategy, politics — gods knew what else. He barely looked my way. And while Eira swore it was “just how he copes with pressure,” i was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t something else.
To distract myself, i trained.
Every morning and most afternoons — with Darius, with Eira, and alone.
Books. Spells. Breathing. Energy work. Blood chants. My head spun with it all.
Today was no different — until it was.
I was mid-spar with Darius when i suddenly threw my hands down.
“I’m done,” i muttered, wiping sweat from my brow.
Darius blinked. “You’ve barely gone ten minutes.”
“I don’t care.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to look for Lucien.”
Darius lowered his weapon. “He’s in a meeting. Important one.”
“I don’t care.”
I walked off before he could stop me.
************
The hall outside the room was quiet — unnervingly so. Two guards stood at attention, but neither dared stop me. They knew better. I pushed open the double doors without a knock.
Chatter ceased. Heads turned. Silence fell like a curtain.
Lucien looked up sharply from where he sat at the long table, flanked by elders, nobles, and masked advisors. His eyes flared.
“Anara,” he said, voice tight. “I’m busy.”
“I noticed.”
I strode in, unbothered, and with a defiant smile, seated myself right on the edge of his desk.
Lucien stood slowly, expression unreadable. “you're all dismissed.”
There were murmurs. Hesitations. But one glare from Lucien was enough.
They filed out wordlessly, the doors clicking shut behind them.
Lucien didn’t speak. Neither did i— not at first.
He finally stepped toward me, jaw clenched. “Why are you here, Anara?”
I huffed, folding my arms. “Because I exist, in case you forgot. And apparently, being the witch who unsealed you only earns a week of attention before I’m conveniently invisible again.”
He stared. “You burst into a meeting for that?”
I stood. “I’m tired of being ignored. You’ve barely said two words to me in days.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“You’ve been hiding.”
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
“I train all day,” i said, voice rising, “I read until my head hurts. I don’t sleep well. I eat alone. I walk halls filled with strangers who either fear me or hate me or want something from me. And the only person I’m tethered to in this damn place avoids me like I’m a ghost.”
He took a slow step toward me. “Are you done?”
“No!” she snapped. “I’m not done!”
My voice cracked. “I don’t care how many war meetings or peace treaties or bloodline legacies you have. I don’t care how many nobles need your time or what threat rises next. You told me I was important. You told me I mattered. So act like it.”
Lucien didn’t move.
For a moment, i thought he might yell. Or worse, dismiss me entirely.
But instead… he exhaled.
Not in annoyance. Not in anger.
Just… tired.
His gaze dropped to the floor for a heartbeat before meeting mine again. “You think I’m hiding from you?”
I crossed my arms tightly, fingers digging into my skin. “Aren’t you?”
He didn’t answer that.
Instead, he walked slowly to where i stood — close enough that i had to lift my chin up to keep looking him in the eye.
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” he said quietly. “I’ve been avoiding what I feel around you.”
My breath caught.
“I don’t know how to be… this. With you.” He looked away, frustrated. “I know war. I know duty. I know bloodshed and sacrifice. But I don’t know how to sit in a quiet room with you and not want more than I should.
My heartbeat started racing a little too fast.
Lucien ran a hand through his hair. “Every time I’m near you, I lose pieces of myself. And it’s terrifying.”
My anger began to dissolve. Slowly. Carefully. Like melting snow.
“You think I’m not scared too?” i whispered. “I don’t even know what I am, Lucien. Or who I’m becoming. But I still show up every day. For you. For this place. For me. And I just… I just wanted to know you see me.”
He stepped even closer — and gently, his fingers lifted to brush my cheek, the touch featherlight. “I see you, Anara. I see everything.”
I swallowed. Hard.
The door creaked behind us
Lucien didn’t move, but his eyes flicked toward it just as Eira’s voice rang gently, “Forgive me, but you’re needed master Lucien.”
Lucien sighed, his forehead briefly lowering to touch mine “Later.”
He simply said pulling away.
As he stepped away and walked toward the door, i watched him go — heart hammering.
Lucien.
Lucien found Silas waiting at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, expression tight with something between concern and curiosity. The tension in the air was thick, the kind that usually came before a storm.
“She’s waiting,” Silas said, nodding toward the arched corridor that led to the seer’s chamber.
Lucien said nothing, just fell into step beside him. The silence between them wasn’t unusual, but this time it carried weight neither of them wanted to acknowledge.
The door creaked as they entered the chamber. It was dimly lit by strange, flickering blue flames hovering midair. Incense coiled toward the cracked ceiling. The old seer sat in the center, draped in layers of black and grey, her eyes clouded but unblinking—as if she'd seen them coming long before they’d arrived.
Without lifting her head, she spoke.
“You’ve already begun walking the path, Hybrid King.”
Lucien didn’t flinch. “What path?”
Her lips curled faintly, like she pitied him. “You will fall in love,” she said simply. “And so will she.”
The flames pulsed in time with her words. Lucien could feel the shift in the air, something deep and ancient stirring beneath her voice.
“You speak in riddles,” he said coldly.
“Love is no riddle,” she replied. “It is the greatest of all emotions. It amplifies everything—passion, rage, power. When two forces like yours and hers come together… it does not end in harmony.”
Lucien’s expression darkened.
“Your nature is destruction,” the seer continued. “You were not born to love. And she—her mother was devoured by love. It was her undoing.”
Silas shifted beside him, uneasy.
“History,” the seer whispered, “has a way of repeating itself. Loving each other… will be the beginning of your doom.”
Lucien’s fists clenched at his sides. “Then I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.”
She tilted her head. “You can try. But the heart is a stubborn thing, even for kings.”
Lucien turned sharply, signaling for the guards. The seer was escorted out, her words lingering in the air like poison.
He was already halfway across the room when Silas spoke.
“You didn’t deny it.”
Lucien stopped. “Deny what?”
“That you feel something for her.”
Lucien said nothing.
Silas came to stand beside him. “You forget I’ve known you since you were a boy. I’ve seen you push everyone away, always have. But you let her stay. You don’t just tolerate her—you seek her out, even when you pretend not to.”
Lucien’s jaw tightened. “She’s a witch. Her magic is dangerous. I need to understand her.”
“That’s not what I see,” Silas said, voice low. “You’ve got a soft spot, Lucien. And I think it terrifies you.”
Lucien turned away. “Then I’ll carve it out before it becomes a weakness.”
Silas didn’t argue. He just exhaled and let the silence settle between them.
But they both knew the truth: it was already too late.
- Writer
