RAIN

CHAPTER TWO:🌒

I entered the world on a blustery night, beneath the crimson glow of the full moon, six days after my cousins had arrived.

Upon my birth, my parents' disappointment stemmed from my gender, as they held the misguided belief that a female could not wield the power of GOOD. Consumed by anger, they considered sacrificing me in a misguided attempt to gain greater power.

My father's brothers and their wives mocked my parents, believing I would never wield the power of good. However, everything changed when my grandfather, the king, laid eyes on me.

He gazed at me with joy and satisfaction, a look he had never given my cousins at their birth. My grandfather then took me from my parents, and as he did, he felt an unexpected surge of power leave him and enter me, then he said "Thus, you shall be called RAIN, offspring of the mighty god of the Earth and its realms. May your tears ignite flames and your smiles k****e the sun's joyful dance.".

He was both shaken and overjoyed. At that moment, my parents sensed that something was amiss, but they didn't think much of it.

The king's favoritism towards me sparked resentment within the family, including my parents. They feared that he might transfer his powers to me, the 'wrong' child.Grandfather kept me isolated. I was confined to the king's chambers, where he forbade anyone, including my parents, from visiting me.

Meanwhile, my grandmother attempted to uncover the nature of my supposed powers, but her efforts yielded nothing. Convinced that I was powerless, she deemed me useless and redirected her attention to my cousins, believing that one of them might possess the power of GOOD.

Finally, my tenth birthday arrived, and my grandfather spared no expense in celebrating it with a grand feast. He invited all the lords and wealthy men to attend.

As I basked in the feast, I couldn't help but notice that my cousins, Jea and Morlatis, had celebrated their birthday just six days prior, yet my grandfather hadn't even acknowledged it. I wondered to myself, 'They must be seething with anger.'

I realized that I didn't know my cousins well, but I was aware that they harbored a deep resentment towards me, just like their parents and my parents did. I asked myself, 'Why does my grandfather show me such affection?'

I'm the only one who dares to call him 'grandfather'; everyone else addresses him as 'the king.' The only other person he shows open affection to is my grandmother, who, I recall, instructed me to address her as 'queen,' not 'grandmother'.

At the festival, I couldn't help but notice that my grandfather and I were the only ones who seemed truly happy. I attributed the others' unhappiness to their lack of familiarity with me.

When I saw my cousins, Jea and Morlatis, heading outside to play, I decided to join them. As I approached, Morlatis, the son of Glorad, shouted, 'Hey, you little rat!' I looked around, unsure of who he was addressing, until I realized it was me.

I tried to make a friendly gesture, saying, 'Hello, I just wanted to play with you guys and get to know you better.' However, Jea sneered, 'So you think you're high and mighty just because you live with the king and call him grandfather?' Morlatis chimed in, 'Don't mind her, she's the perfect princess – powerless and useless. That's why her parents abandoned her, and the king only took her in out of pity.'

Their mocking laughter cut deep, and I stood there, feeling sad and hurt. I had brought biscuits and chocolates to share with them, but after their cruel words, I hid them behind my back. Jea noticed and ran towards me, anger in his eyes. He snatched the treats from me, threw them to the ground, and stepped on them, saying, 'Hey, do you think we're beggars?'

He then pushed me to the ground, sneering, 'You're no one in this palace, and you'll never be anyone. Look at us – we're the heirs to all the powers, good and evil.' I stared at them, tears welling up in my eyes, but I refused to let them see me cry, remembering my grandfather's teachings: 'Never let your enemies see you cry'.

My grandfather stormed outside, his face twisted in fury, and found me on the floor. 'How dare you lay your hands on the child I've nurtured!' he thundered. 'Guards! Take them away, lock them up, and break their will. Make them suffer ten times more than they've made her suffer!'

The boys' parents cried out in terror, 'King, have mercy!' I stood up, still shaken, and pleaded, 'Let them go.' My grandfather turned to me, surprised, and said, 'But they've made you suffer. Didn't I teach you that when someone makes you suffer, you pay them back tenfold?'.

"I've learned your law, and I stand by my words," I declared boldly. "Let them go. I'm the one they've hurt, and I've decided to forgive them."

"I no longer wish to reside in your chambers," I continued. "I want my own chamber, and I'd like to train with the knights instead of practicing sword fighting with you. I also desire my own courtroom and a throne beside yours. Furthermore, I wish to join the cult, the Tears." The onlookers gasped in shock, their whispers of disbelief spreading like wildfire. "Who is she to make such demands of the king?" they murmured among themselves.

My mother stepped forward, her face red with indignation. "How dare you speak to the king in such a commanding tone, you little thief?" she shouted.

My grandfather's expression turned stern, and he silenced my mother with a raised hand. "You have no right to speak to her in such a manner," he said firmly. "I shall grant all your wishes, child, even if it means beheading everyone present.

I ordered my grandfather in such a manner to demonstrate who truly wields the power of good and evil. With a confident and majestic stride, I stormed out and made my way to the chambers, where I began packing my belongings.

The boys seethed with anger and rage, as did their parents and mine. Seeking to appease me, my grandfather announced that I would be his advisor and bestowed upon me lands and gold. With that, he dismissed the feast.

From that pivotal moment onward, my grandfather became the sole embodiment of family to me, the only one I entrusted with my heart and soul. The rift between the boys and me grew irreparable, and instead, my grandfather devoted himself to imparting his ancient laws and wisdom upon me.

As I blossomed into a formidable force, the aura of fear surrounding me intensified, with everyone trembling at the mere mention of my name – everyone, that is, except my grandfather. Under his tutelage, I honed my swordsmanship skills, emerging as a virtuoso warrior, rivaling only my grandfather's exceptional prowess.

Together, we traversed the land, as he showcased his boundless power and majesty, leaving awestruck spectators in our wake. Concurrently, I ascended the ranks of the mysterious cult, the Tears, evolving into a decisive and formidable leader.

However, as the seasons passed, the whispers of my alleged malevolence spread like wildfire among the citizens. They began to suspect that my grandfather had usurped the revered Milvir Power, and soon, the seeds of discontent took root.

Jea and Morlatis, fueled by their insatiable ambition, forged an unholy alliance, hell-bent on annihilating me and supplanting my grandfather's authority. Upon uncovering the ancient prophecy, they surreptitiously disseminated distorted rumors among the populace, further fanning the flames of discord and rebellion.

The citizens were ecstatic, filled with joy and anticipation. They envisioned a future where they could live freely, speak their minds, and be rid of the king's tyrannical rule and the cult's oppressive grasp. They wondered who their liberator would be, the one who would bring about a new era of peace and prosperity.

However, unbeknownst to Jea, Morlatis had been secretly manipulating the situation to his advantage. He spread a rumor among the citizens, claiming that he was the chosen one, destined to wield the power of GOOD. Morlatis had always harbored a deep-seated resentment toward Jea, and he had been plotting with his parents to eliminate both Jea and me.

Their sinister plan was to kill us, believing that this would restore the power of GOOD to Morlatis. With this power, he would overthrow the king, claim the Milvir Power for himself, and destroy anyone who dared to stand in his way. Morlatis's ultimate goal was to establish his family as the supreme rulers, unstoppable and unchallenged.

What Morlatis didn't realize, however, was that Jea harbored identical ambitions, and a deadly rivalry was about to unfold.

The Night of the Dark had fallen, a time of shadow and secrecy, when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. My parents, cousins, and their parents gathered at the ancient ritual site, their faces lit only by the flame of the the fire. The air was heavy with anticipation and foreboding.

As witches of the third generation, my mother and her sisters were chosen to lead the sacrifice. They stood at the center of the gathering, their long, dark robes billowing behind them like dark wings. Their eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as they began the ritual.

The sound of chanting and drums filled the night air, echoing through the trees as the family members took their places around the ritual site. I watched, transfixed, as my mother and her sisters raised their hands to the sky, calling forth the ancient powers that lurked beyond the veil.

The ritual reached its c****x as my mother and her sisters summoned the dark energies, their voices rising to a frenzied crescendo. The air seemed to vibrate with malevolent force, and I could feel the weight of the ancient powers bearing down upon us.

Suddenly, the world around us erupted into chaos. Shadows twisted and writhed like living things, and the sound of screams and wailing echoed through the night air. I stumbled backward, terrified, as my mother and her sisters danced around the ritual site, their eyes blazing with an otherworldly energy.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything was silent. The shadows retreated, the screams ceased, and the night air was still once more. My mother and her sisters stood panting, their chests heaving with exertion, as they gazed upon the sacrifice that lay before them.

With a final, triumphant cry, my mother and her sisters raised their hands to the sky, and the dark energies dissipated as suddenly as they had appeared. The ritual was ended, the sacrifice accepted.

As soon as the ritual was complete, I and my grandfather slipped away, leaving the others to make their way back to the palace.

As Jea and his parents made their way to the palace, they were suddenly ambushed by Morlatis and his parents. The air was electric with tension as the two families clashed in a flurry of steel and magic.

Morlatis's mother, a towering figure with eyes that blazed like embers, unleashed a torrent of dark energy against Jea's mother. The two women exchanged blows, their powers locked in a struggle that shook the very foundations of the earth.

Meanwhile, Jea's father and Morlatis's father engaged in a fierce battle of their own, their swords clashing in a deadly dance. The sound of ringing steel echoed through the night air, punctuated by the cries of the wounded.

Jea himself was beset by Morlatis and a group of ruthless assassins. With his sword flashing in the moonlight, he fought valiantly against overwhelming odds. Morlatis sneered at him, his eyes blazing with hatred, as he struck again and again.

As the war raged on, I sat upon the throne alongside my grandfather, our eyes gleaming with malevolent delight. We reveled in the c*****e, our hearts swelled with excitement at the sound of screams and cries, the sight of blood-soaked streets. We made no effort to intervene, content to let the conflict unfold like a twisted game.

Jea's parents fought bravely, but they were ultimately no match for Morlatis and his parents. As they fell, Jea stumbled into the palace, throwing himself at our feet in a desperate plea for mercy. Tears streamed down his face as he begged my grandfather to save his parents, but the old man remained silent, his expression unyielding.

Jea turned to me, his eyes pleading for help, but I was unmoved. I ordered the guards to take him away, to lock him up for daring to disrupt our twisted peace. As they dragged him away, his cries echoed through the halls, but I felt no pity, no remorse.

The war intensified, consuming the city in its madness. Innocent civilians were caught in the crossfire, their bodies broken and battered. Jea's parents were gone, and Morlatis's parents soon followed, cut down by the soldiers my parents had sent to join the fray. Morlatis himself managed to escape, but not without sustaining fatal injuries that would leave him scarred forever.

In the aftermath of the war, Morlatis vanished into thin air, leaving no trace of his whereabouts. Jea, consumed by grief, spent months mourning the loss of his parents. But before his sixth birthday, he too disappeared, leaving behind only whispers and speculation.

My grandfather, seemingly unmoved by the disappearance of his own grandson, made no effort to search for Jea or Morlatis. His indifference was chilling, and I couldn't help but wonder if he knew more than he was letting on.

The queen, on the other hand, was shaken to her core. Having lost two sons, she retreated to the Second Realm with my parents, seeking solace in the mystical energies that dwelled there.

Meanwhile, my grandfather and I remained in the palace, our reign continuing unchallenged. The city was rebuilding, but the scars of war still lingered, and the darkness that had driven Morlatis and his parents to seek power still simmered, waiting to boil over once more.