Scars and Burns (No Light Without the Dark #1)

21. Aeron

21

Aeron

I teleport to my Father’s study, after witnessing the death of Queen Freya. Knowing he would be there.

Enraged, I barrel toward him. He knew who I would find there. But led me to believe it would be the daughter.

He’s peering out the window when I approach. Grabbing him by the collar, spinning him around until he is pinned up against the glass. My blade at his throat. I’m seething with anger. Why couldn’t he have just told me? Been honest with me for once.

His face is as calm as ever. Not even surprised or off put by my anger and aggression.

Holding him there for a moment. Hate in my eyes. Breathing heavy through my teeth. He’s still just looking up at me. Knowing this aggression is not going to get me the answers I want, I relax. Releasing him and stepping away.

He rearranges himself again. Returning to the pristine appearance he had before. Clears his throat and asks, “Something you have to say?”

He doesn’t even look at me. Just returns his gaze out the window with his hands clasped behind his back .

“Why did you tell me I’d be killing King Elio’s ward?”

His tone is even. Absent of any sort of emotion, “I never said you’d be killing the ward. Though she is one you must kill. Since you let her get away that night. You came to the conclusion of her being the one to kill tonight all on your own.” He finally turns to me.

“Why allow me to continue to believe it was her?”

He smiles, “Because I wanted to see if you could go through with it. Either of them really.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

My anger begins to rise again, “I could have done it!”

“But you didn’t! You failed! Again! You let the whore of a Queen live. Why? Because she showed you kindness once. I raised you better. I trained you better.”

It’s unacceptable, I know. I avert my eyes from his. “She knew my Mother.” Hoping that will catch him off guard.

He lifts a brow, “Oh, did she now. Tell me Aeron, if she is so good and you trust her so very much. Did she tell you how your Mother abandoned us and fled to the Middle Kingdom?”

This indicates she is alive. But I already knew that. The last entry of the journal Queen Freya gave me that is supposedly from my Mother was this very day. I still have reservations regarding that as well. But my son-of-a-bitch Father doesn’t need to know. And he still allowed me to believe all my life she was dead.

I have to play this right. I can’t give anything away. “Why didn’t you?”

“Why didn’t you?” I ask again through gritted teeth. “You allowed me to believe she was dead! You told me she was dead!”

“Because you were weak! She made you soft. I rectified that.”

I shake my head, “How was I weak? I was five! I wasn’t even old enough to understand what you were putting me through!”

“That is not the point and holds no value here. It was not for you to understand. It was for you to comply and become what I needed you to be.”

“And what… was that exactly?”

He smirks, “Death”

He walks over to his desk and sits down, motioning for me to sit but I just walk over and stand right across from him.

He’s leaning back in his chair. Resting his elbows on the armrests with all his fingertips pressed together.

“You are not meant to be anything else. You are meant to be death itself. Your darkness will consume everything and everyone.”

“What if I don’t want to be, death itself?”

“You don’t get a choice.”

Of course not.

“Did you kill her?”

He gives me a curious look. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

“My Mother? Did you kill my Mother? Tonight?”

Parting his hands. He rests them down on the chair’s arms. “Yes. Why do you think the raid was so short? Why do you think I sent you elsewhere? Instead of having you at my side like usual.”

I stare at him. This wasn’t about me proving myself to him. This was about keeping me from seeing my Mother one last time. Because he knew I would try and stop him. He didn’t care about the life of the Queen. Sending me to kill the her was all about distracting me. I played right into his hand. Doing exactly what he needed me to do. Staying away.

I rage. Blasting my magic toward him. He’s ready for the attack. Standing, his black flames engulf me. Wrapping up the length of my arms and legs. Burning through my clothes. Branding my skin even more. He absorbs the shadow magic I had barreling toward him. Throwing it back at me tenfold. It begins to seep into my mind and body. The smoke meeting every inch of flesh that isn’t covered by flames. Absorbing into my every pour. I feel it spreading through my veins. Invading my bloodstream. My vision begins to blur. I blink against it. Going in and out of reality. I see the darkness closing in.

My jaw hurts from how hard I am clenching it. I swear I am about to break every single one of my teeth. I cannot let this happen. No, I will not let this happen.

I have suffered and endured so much at the hands of my own Father. My Father who has lied and manipulated me. My Father you tortured me for as long as I can remember. Never actually caring about me, only that I could comply to his plan.

If he wants me to be death, then that’s exactly what I will be.

I clench my fists and eyes. Then with all my strength I push back. My eyes fly open, my hands shooting out toward him. Breaking his bond. Shattering his flames around my body. Dissipating his shadows from my soul.

I coil my blue flames around his entire body. Wrapping around his ankles all the way up to his throat. A cocoon of blue fire. He’s completely immobilized. My flames then begin to turn color. Changing from blue to black. My magic has overcome his. I push my shadows toward him. Surrounding the entire area around him in a cloud of smoke. My magic is seeping into his mind. I don’t know what he sees, nor do I care. This man probably fears nothing at this point. Although, I can tell by his struggling, the mental incapacity I’m causing him is evident. Then I feel it.

His soul.

Who would have thought he had one after all these years?

It’s there. It’s mine for the taking.

But I don’t.

I release my magic. My shadows recede. My fire unravels.

My chest is burning.

My Father takes in a loud gulp of air once his throat is able to again. Reaching a hand up to his neck. He smirks at me, saying, “Finally”

He’s smiling.

Why is he smiling?

He’s staring at me. But his gaze does not meet my own. I follow it down to my chest. Where a complete goddess mark sits on my sternum.

I have no words. I stare at my Father in awe. Searching for something on his face, in his eyes to tell me anything. To guide me the way a Father or King would. But he doesn’t.

He sits back down at his desk only to say, “You may leave now, Prince Aeron.”

I’m too tired to argue. Too exhausted to fight. I’m confused, conflicted. I don’t know what to think or how to feel. I’m not able to process what this night has brought.

I returned to my room in utter shock. Sitting on my bed. Recapping the night.

I went to kill the little flower. Instead, I met her Mother, the only other person in my life to show me kindness. She knew I was coming and was content with it. She told me my Mother loved me and I was the light of her life. While handing me a journal that supposedly came from her. A journal with an entry last dated this morning. Meaning my Mother has been alive all this time. I’ve been lied to by my Father and abandoned by my Mother.

I glance at the journal Queen Freya gave me. How am I supposed to read this?

Sighing, I return my thoughts to the night’s events. The interaction between the King and Queen of the Middle Kingdom has me baffled. I recall the Goddess’s Prophecy Queen Freya spoke.

“Blood for blood

Her starlight will glo w

As his shadows grow

The Goddess has blessed one

A bond that cannot be undone

To bare her mark of

Light and Dark”

I had never heard it before in its entirety . Who are the female and male of the prophecy? Blessed one. Which one? What sort of bond is to be made? Her light and dark mark. There is no such thing. The only mark known of the Triple Goddess is her three moons. Only bestowed to those with magic in different variations depending on the wielder.

My mind is spinning. More and more questions arise as I continue to think.

The amount of power Queen Freya displayed. Not just the amount but the versatility. She changed her appearance. She had healing magic from the Celestial Realm but also displayed Middle Kingdom energy. She threatened to drag him into the darkness, which almost implies Shadowling magic. Not to mention she was a telepath. I heard her in my head. Where did she get such power? How did she have such power? I’m tempted to read the journal she left Dinalia to see if there are any answers there.

King Elio killed her. He stabbed her right through the heart. Her last words were ‘Blood for blood, King Elio, blood for blood’. That was in the Goddess’s prophecy. That phrase is usually used to explain one’s magical abilities and its arrival. Blood must be spilled. A life must be lost in order for another’s magic to come alive inside of them. And if you were ever to increase your own magical abilities, aside from regular training, you must continue to kill. I consider this. King Elio seemed to think that without Queen Freya around, Princess Saphrina would flourish and reach her full potential. Does this mean Princess Saphrina does not have a complete goddess mark and is not truly blessed?

I look down at my own mark now. It’s complete. I overcame my Father’s shadow magic. I overpowered him. I could have stolen his soul. I could have ripped it apart piece by piece and felt him die.

That’s when it dawned on me. My Father, when he gave me permission to leave he used my title.

Prince.

I can’t remember the last time I was called Prince Aeron by him. Does this mean I am now his son and heir again?

Will I no longer have to kill Dinalia?

My thoughts drift to her. I left the little flower in her rage. She never even knew I was there. She is not what I thought her to be. Last night exposed a side of her I didn’t know existed. Exposed who she truly was is. What she truly is.

A killer.

You could see it in her eyes when she burst through the door. In the anger that bled through her pores as she was ready to kill King Elio.

I saw the pain on her face after King Elio left. Trying to hold back her tears but she couldn’t. I listened as she apologized to her Mother over a death she couldn’t have prevented. She considers herself to be nothing.

No one. Worthless.

And yet she is anything but.

Her Mother said she fears the darkness within her. That she could be a powerful Fae.

If she has half the power her Mother has, based on what I saw, she doesn’t even know what power she possesses. There is definitely a darkness within her. A darkness to kill? Perhaps, but I am not sure that’s what it is.

Her Mother said I could help her bring peace. I am not a good person. I am not meant to bring peace to the world. There is no peace in my soul. But only darkness.

The death and destruction that’s being kept at bay inside of her. Controlled but ready to be unleashed. I know this well but I need to get to know the little flower more.

* * *

I find her in her usual spot in the forest. She’s completely distraught. I can’t imagine what she is feeling right now. She’s been crying for what seems like hours.

I’m resting on a tree behind her. I keep finding myself wanting to go over to her to ensure she is alright. I’m not sure why. Just something about seeing her this way makes what little is left of my heart ache. But it doesn’t seem right to disturb her, so I just let her be.

She stands to leave and I can tell she senses my presence now. She drawers her blades. Still amusing how she has the courage to stand against me. Though clearly, after seeing her smeared in blood last night she is quite capable.

But not against me.

Intrigued, I choose to make contact.

“Don’t bother, you won’t win” I say.

She whips towards me. Her shoulders lax as she realizes who it is. Although she still doesn’t know who I am. Doesn’t know I let her live all those years ago. Oblivious to the fact that I’ve watched her all these years, growing and changing. Admiring her from afar. Doesn’t know I watched her Mother die by the hands of her step-Father. Unaware that we now bear the same Goddess mark .

She studies me carefully. Clearly assessing me. Taking in the full aspect of my physique. I notice her eyes linger on my dick.

I am quite a specimen.

With a smirk I ask, “See anything you like?” Antagonizing her. Knowing how she’ll react.

“Hardly. What are you doing here? Lost again?” She counteracts me with aggression and accusation.

She’s hot headed. Ill tempered.

Wild.

She’s been cooped up in that stuffy castle her whole life. No wonder she comes to the forest everyday to escape. But last night revealed something else.

Still naive though. Innocent, believing I was lost before. Humorous, to think I am lost now.

Smirking, I reply, “What makes you think I was lost before?”

She rolls her eyes, “Because I come here quite often and you had never been before nor have you been since. Leading me to the conclusion that you did not mean to be here.”

Saying she comes here often is a nice way of putting it. She is here every single day. I know this because I come here every single day to see her. She’s amused me since the night I saw her at the raid. An interest I can’t put my finger on.

I can’t reveal this to her though. Can’t expose that I know she comes here every single day. Nor will I admit to her that I also come here every day to see her.

“Well, that’s very presumptuous of you. Maybe I just didn’t like what I saw.”

Deciding to go in the opposite direction and act like she was the reason I stayed away. That I didn’t like her.

Even though that is a lie.

She huffs, “Well, you weren’t the first and you won’t be the last. Now, I ask again, what are you doing here?”

Interesting. She openly accepts that I might not have liked her. In fact, it’s almost like she embraced it. Expected it.

That shouldn’t surprise me. I am sure everyone except her Mother has shied away from her.

I relax. Pushing myself off the tree. No more half truths when she asks me what I am doing here for the second time. “I am here to offer my condolences for your Mother.”

I did not come to offer my condolences for her Mother. But after seeing her shattered and knowing the truth of it. It feels only right to do so.

She catches me off guard when she pins me to the tree. One by the sheer force and ability of her powers. Two by the fact that I am never on my back.

“Were you there? Did you kill her?” She asks through gritted teeth.

Impressive, how both of her blades are perfectly placed to kill with one fluid motion. Whoever taught her, taught her well. I could easily over power her. I am larger than most I come in contact with, but she is incredibly tiny. It’s a wonder her blade even reaches my throat.

She’s seething as she says, “Don’t make me ask again. Did you kill her?”

I wasn’t really listening the first time she asked me. Too taken back by her pinning me to this tree. That will have to be rectified.

Of course she wants to know if I did it. She wants answers. She wants justice.

Revenge.

I didn’t kill her Mother but I can’t let her know I was there. She’d kill me in an instant. Taking a chance, I tell another half truth and use the nickname we share from our Mother’s.

“You just did, but no little light I did not kill her.”

Just as I expected she wavers. Taking that opportunity to grab her wrists and twist us round.

This is more like it.

I push her up against the tree. Her wild flower, floral scent surrounds me. I lean down. She is intoxicating. Normally I wouldn’t do this. Not unless initiated on both sides. Women are to be respected. But she is consuming me.

Seeing her this way. She is no longer the little girl that used to play in streams with dangerous serpents. And I am no longer a little boy intrigued. I am a man, determined.

Not knowing if she has known other men. I decided to have a little fun.

For some reason the thought of her being with someone else enrages me. Though it shouldn’t. I have no claim to her.

I trail my lips up her neck to her ear. Wanting to whisper sweet words to her. The need to nip her neck invading my mind. I glide my lips across her cheek. Still not allowing my lips to meet another women’s, not even hers. I pull away.

Her heart is racing and her cheeks are flushed. Could the little light be aroused for me?

I stare directly into her eyes. Her most mesmerizing eyes. Those eyes that caught my attention from the very beginning. The most beautiful shade of purple. Still the same shade as a species of the black dahlia that flourishes in the Shadowlands. They’re deep and dark. Holding secrets only she knows. The icy blue closest to her pupils is colder than I could have imagined. Drawing me in and giving nothing away.

I’d say she’s struggling against me but she’s not really. She’s moving but not near enough to make a difference. Not near as hard as I know she can. She studies my features. My face is unmarred. Probably the only part of me that doesn’t resemble the torture I have been through. My Father needed my face. The pristine, handsome, and dark shadow prince.

Her eyes lingering on my features makes me uneasy.

What is she thinking?

I swallow. I watch her eyes follow this movement. That’s when they land on my burns.

Some are fresh from the interaction I just had with my Father. Not nearly as painful as they look. Though others are quite old. Healed now but still jarring to look at nonetheless.

I see it inside her. The darkness her Mother warned me of.

“You’re a fighter. You have so much inside of you. Rage. Fire. Shame. Guilt.” I pause, “Darkness”.

I scan her body. Her eyes are swollen from crying. Her hair is still down not having a chance to compose herself. She’s changed out of her night attire into something more conservative. Her pants are tight. Exposing her tight toned ass and lean legs. Her jacket however.

Curious.

It’s a different style than I’ve seen her wear before. Crossing into a ‘V’ barely even showing her collarbones.

I need to see it again. I need to see her Goddess mark. I trace my finger down her face, to her neck, and finally meet the fabric of her high collared jacket. Parting the fabric to expose her Goddess mark.

She’s stunned to come to the realization that I know of its existence. Not to mention its placement.

I study it. Looking for any flaw. Any difference. But I can’t find one. It’s an exact match to my own.

My eyes linger. Not wanting to look away. My own mark begins to burn. A pull towards her I don’t yet understand.

I need to take my leave before I go too far. I have already overstepped my bounds.

I release her from the tree. Bidding her a final farewell. Reinforcing my condolences for the loss of her Mother, before teleporting away. Normally I wouldn’t reveal that part of my magic but I can’t stay any longer. She is testing my resolve.