Lilith furrowed her brow, confused by the King's reaction. His anger, his urgency—it made no sense to her. The mountain was serene, peaceful, a place she went to escape the chaos of the castle and the expectations placed upon her. What could possibly be so dangerous about it? She hesitated, her fiery resolve cooling for a moment as curiosity overtook her frustration.
"What happens with the mountain?" she asked softly, her tone calmer now. Her earlier defiance gave way to genuine concern, the weight of Azareon's words pressing against her mind.
Azareon's stern gaze bore into her as he stepped closer, his posture rigid with authority. His voice carried the sharpness of command, yet beneath it, there was a tremor of something else—fear. "Listen," he said, his tone clipped but serious. "Yesterday, a surge of dark magic emanated from the mountain—a power that shouldn't even exist in this kingdom. I suspect that you sensed it, perhaps even came into contact with it, given your peculiar behavior. You went to the library yesterday, Lilith—specifically to the dark section. That's not a coincidence."
Lilith stiffened, the mention of the library sending a chill down her spine. She remembered the pull she had felt, the whispers that seemed to guide her to the forbidden section. But she said nothing, her gaze fixed on Azareon, waiting for him to continue.
Azareon paused, his jaw tightening. The memories of the war flashed across his mind—the chaos, the destruction, the bloodshed. His voice dropped lower, weighty with the gravity of what he was about to reveal. "Decades ago, a war was fought that nearly destroyed us. A war between angels and demons. The mountain was a site of that conflict—a place where the fiercest battles raged. And though the demons were defeated, their power… their essence… it lingered."
He exhaled sharply, his frustration flaring again. "That mountain isn't what it seems, Lilith. It's a scar left by the war. Residual magic from the demons seeped into the earth, twisting it into something dangerous. That power seeks to corrupt, to consume anyone foolish enough to walk its grounds. If you had contact with it, you've already put yourself in harm's way."
Lilith swallowed hard, her confusion mixing with unease. She wanted to protest, to argue that the mountain was beautiful, that she had felt nothing but peace there. But the weight of Azareon's words—the authority in his tone and the unmistakable urgency—made her pause.
"You think I… what? Came in contact with this power?" she asked quietly, her voice steady but uncertain.
"I don't know," Azareon snapped, his frustration breaking through. "But the timing lines up too perfectly for it to be mere coincidence. Something happened at that mountain, Lilith, and you need to understand: it's not a sanctuary. It's a trap, one that could destroy you if you're not careful."
Azareon stood there, his eyes blazing with certainty, his words sharp and unrelenting. But poor Azareon, he was mistaken. The pulse of dark magic he sensed, the one that fueled his anger and fear, did not emanate from the mountain he so deeply distrusted. It came from no less than the person standing in front of him.
Lilith.
She didn't know it. Not truly. The changes she had been feeling, the whispers, the marks—she didn't understand the meaning behind them. But deep within her, something was stirring, something ancient and unfamiliar, something powerful. And in this moment, as Azareon's accusations lashed out at her, she felt the weight of the truth pressing against her chest, even if she couldn't quite name it.
Her mouth opened, but no words came. What could she say? He was wrong, and yet… he wasn't. The pulse of dark magic he had sensed was real, but it had nothing to do with the demons he feared or the mountain that haunted his memories. It was her.
Azareon mistook her silence for defiance. His frustration only deepened, his voice rising once again. "Do you not understand what's at stake here, Lilith?" he bellowed, his tone sharp and commanding. "This kingdom has survived because we've kept the darkness at bay. If you've been exposed to it—if it has touched you—we are all in danger. I cannot allow any weakness to jeopardize what we've built."
Lilith swallowed hard, her confusion mixing with unease. She wanted to protest, to argue that the mountain was beautiful, that she had felt nothing but peace there. But the weight of Azareon's words—the authority in his tone and the unmistakable urgency—made her pause.
Lilith didn't know what to say. The thought churned uneasily in her mind, fragments of realization forming but refusing to solidify. Her silence stretched on, and Azareon took it as another infuriating sign of her disregard for the seriousness of his warnings.
"Enough of this," he said sharply, his voice cold and resolute. "You will stay away from the mountain. No arguments, no questions. As king, I am making this decree not just for your sake but for the good of the reign. Do you understand me?"
Lilith hesitated, the tension in the room suffocating her. She couldn't refute his orders, couldn't tell him the truth she didn't even fully grasp herself. Slowly, she nodded, though her heart burned with defiance. She had to back down this time, there was nothing she could do. Lilith had to take a time to reflect and to try to understand all that was happening with her.
Breakfast concluded in heavy silence. The tension that lingered between Lilith and Azareon weighed down the air, unspoken words still hanging like shadows. Lilith's movements were deliberate and unhurried as she rose from her seat, a calm exterior masking the storm inside her.
"I'm going out," she said flatly, her voice devoid of any warmth or question. She didn't look at Azareon. She didn't ask for permission—she knew it wouldn't be granted if she did. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and strode purposefully toward the castle doors.
Azareon didn't move, his sharp gaze following her retreating figure. His mind churned with frustration, but he didn't call her back. Perhaps he sensed that it would only escalate things further, or perhaps he was content to watch her from a distance for now. The room felt colder as the doors closed behind her.
Lilith stepped out into the bustling courtyard, the cool breeze brushing against her skin and tugging at her hair. The world outside the castle walls seemed brighter, more alive. People went about their day, their conversations and laughter floating in the air. But Lilith's mind was elsewhere.
She needed time—time to think, time to understand the chaos that had taken root in her life. The mountain loomed large in her thoughts, its beauty now tainted by Azareon's warnings. It was supposed to be a place of peace, her haven, but now it held more questions than answers. And she intended to find those answers.
Not today, though. Not yet. She couldn't risk drawing attention to herself, not when Azareon's suspicions were already so dangerously close to the truth. She would wait—a few days, perhaps more—until the tension had eased. Then, she would return to the mountain, this time with purpose. Her plans were already taking shape, even as uncertainty clouded her mind.
For now, she walked through the courtyard, her steps steady and measured, mingling among the people and letting herself blend into the rhythm of their lives. It wasn't freedom, not really, but it was a brief reprieve from the suffocating walls of the castle. And she would make use of it.