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墨書 Inktalez
The room was filled with the stench of sweat and fear, a noxious Poison Fog clinging to the heavy Velvet Curtain, swirling around the frantic Midwives.
A sharp cry pierced the air—raw and primal, filled with agony, tightening an invisible band around Aelia's chest. She stumbled forward, the thick Bloody Smell overwhelming her senses as she reached for the Cradle, her hand trembling uncontrollably.
But nestled safely in her arms, Luna stirred, a small hand reaching out to pat Aelia's Luna. Amidst the chaos, a strange calm enveloped Aelia. Against the backdrop of life’s tumultuous arrival, the fragile peace brought by this little girl formed a bizarre contrast.
Then Luna spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, yet each word detonated in Aelia's heart like Jing Lei. “Mama… Papa… there’s another child.”
Aelia's face drained of color, blood leaving her cheeks. The chaotic scene around her began to blur as Luna's words echoed in her ears. Another child? Another family? Such profound and complete betrayal threatened to shatter the very foundation of her existence.
She collapsed onto a nearby chair, the soft velvet offering no comfort. The room began to tilt, the cries of the Newborn transforming into a twisted, nightmarish symphony. Once precious and vibrant memories flickered like dying embers, their sweetness mocking her.
Leonard's gentle caresses, his softly spoken promises, his loving gaze… all lies. Each stolen kiss, every shared laugh now felt like a Poison Arrow, piercing her heart with precision and pain. Tears streamed down her Luna, hot and bitter—a testament to her shattered love.
Her world, once a fortress of stability and affection, crumbled around her, leaving her adrift in an ocean of despair. The three brothers were drawn in by the commotion and burst into the room, concern etched on their faces.
But upon hearing Luna’s words, their expressions shifted instantly to stormy anger. The eldest brother, weakened by Magic Backlash, trembled with rage as his pale face flushed red. The Second Brother, usually calm and composed, clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white; he gritted his teeth, struggling to contain his fury.
And the youngest brother, once carefree and lighthearted, now stared wide-eyed at Mother with disbelief that quickly morphed into anger and determination. “Those Bastards!” roared the eldest brother Ailya's Roar, his voice shaking with emotion. “I’ll kill him! How dare he do this to Mother?”
"He will pay for this," Second Brother roared, his voice deep and filled with menace. "I swear it by my magic."
The younger brother remained in shock, stammering, "I... I can hardly believe it... Father... how could he do this?"
Their voices mingled with disbelief, anger, and a protective instinct, echoing in the room and intensifying the already chaotic atmosphere. They surged forward, driven by primal instincts to protect Mother and seek vengeance for the betrayal that had torn their family apart.
Qin Si, Aelia's loyal maid, rushed to her side, her eyes brimming with tears. She wrapped her comforting arms around Aelia's trembling shoulders, softly murmuring words of solace; her touch was like a small beacon of comfort in the storm. Yet even as she consoled her mistress, her gaze darted nervously toward the brothers, filled with a foreboding sense of dread. She understood their tempers and their loyalty to Mother, fearing the consequences of their uncontrolled rage.
This revelation, this devastating truth, not only shattered Aelia's world but threatened to tear Glory Fortress apart at its very foundations. The air was thick with tension, suffocating in its intensity. The smell of blood, the cries of newborns, and the brothers' furious whispers all blended into a heartbreaking and discordant symphony of anger.
Suddenly, the room fell into heavy silence, as if the air itself held its breath. The brothers froze, their eyes fixed on the doorway. A figure stood there, silhouetted in the dim light of the corridor—Lucius.
Leonard had returned.
His face was etched with fatigue, obscured by shadows. He stepped into the room without any awareness of the storm brewing within.
"My dear," he began, his voice seemingly laced with genuine concern. "You..." He trailed off mid-sentence as he took in the scene before him—tear-streaked faces, clenched fists, and an unmistakable tension hanging in the air.
"What... what is going on?"
The room was thick with the nauseating stench of sweat and fear; the heavy fog clung to the thick velvet curtains like a lovesick ghost. The midwives busily moved about, their whispers intertwining with the primal and piercing cries that cut through the air—a sound that gripped Aya's heart like an invisible noose tightening around her chest.
She stumbled forward, the acrid smell of blood hitting her like a wave. As she reached out for the cradle, her hand trembled like leaves in a storm. But just then, Luna—a small and stubborn queen nestled in Mother's embrace—stirred slightly.
A tiny hand, no bigger than Aya's thumb, reached out and patted her Luna.
In that moment, amidst the chaos of childbirth, an odd yet unsettling calm descended. Somehow, this feeling... felt wrong.
The fragile calm brought by the newborn, who had just entered the world and barely had time to take a breath, stood in stark contrast to the chaotic and clamorous arrival of life. It felt like a cruel joke played by Destiny.
Then, Luna spoke. Her voice was as light as a whisper, soft as the fluff of a dandelion, yet every broken syllable struck Aya's heart like a battering ram. "Mom... Dad... there's another child."
Aya's face, already pale with worry, drained of all color, her skin becoming as pale as old parchment. The world, which had just moments ago resembled a wildly dancing canvas, began to blur at the edges. Luna's words echoed between the lavish yet suffocating walls that were painfully expensive.
Another child? Another family?
This betrayal was so profound, so... mundane, that it felt as if it might shatter the very foundation of Aya's soul. She collapsed into a nearby chair, the soft velvet cushion offering less comfort than a pile of nails. The room began to tilt, the newborn's cries transforming into a twisted, nightmarish symphony conducted by her own despair.
Once cherished memories, vibrant like a freshly painted sunrise, now flickered like dying embers in a forgotten hearth, mocking her with their former sweetness. Leonard's gentle touch (a liar!), his softly spoken promises (all lies!), his tender gaze (clearly a brilliant performance!). Each stolen kiss, every shared laugh now felt like poisoned darts, piercing her with painful precision.
Her world, once a stable fortress—along with the love she choked on thinking about—was collapsing like a sandcastle in a tsunami. Hearing the commotion, the three brothers burst into the room like overly protective gargoyles, their faces etched with concern... until Luna dropped that bombshell.
Their expressions instantly transformed into a storm of fury. The eldest brother, already teetering from magic backlash, trembled with rage; his pale face flushed crimson, dangerously so. The second brother, usually calm and composed, clenched his fists tightly; his knuckles glowed white in the dim light as his jaw tightened in suppressed anger. The youngest brother’s carefree smile vanished without a trace as if it had never existed; he stared wide-eyed in disbelief at their mother, his gaze gradually turning cold and furious.
"Those bastards!" the eldest brother roared, his voice trembling with emotion. "I’ll kill him! How dare he treat Mom like this?" The second brother's voice was low and dangerous, reminiscent of a frost wolf's roar foretelling pain.
“He will pay for this. I swear by my magic, I swear by everything.”
The younger brother remained in shock, stammering, “I... I can hardly believe it... Father... how could he do this?”
Their voices formed a discordant chorus filled with doubt, anger, and a fierce protective instinct, echoing in the room and intensifying the already chaotic atmosphere.
They surged forward, united in righteous fury, driven by a primal desire to protect their Mother and avenge the betrayal that was tearing their family apart like a magical parasite.
Qin Si, Aya's loyal maid—more of a confidante than a servant—rushed to her side, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
She wrapped a comforting arm around Aya's trembling thin shoulders, whispering soothing words; her touch was like a faint beacon in the storm.
Yet even as she comforted her mistress, her gaze darted anxiously toward the brothers, filled with an ominous premonition.
She understood their tempers and their steadfast loyalty to Mother; she feared the consequences of their uncontrolled rage.
This revelation, this devastating truth that shook the world, not only shattered Aya's reality but also threatened the very foundation of Glory Fortress.
The air was thick with tension, dense and suffocating.
The scent of blood, the cries of newborns, and the brothers' angry murmurs—all intertwined to create a dissonant symphony of heartbreak and fury.
One could almost taste the impending doom.
Then... silence.
A heavy and oppressive silence enveloped the room as if even the air held its breath, waiting for something to unfold.
The brothers froze, their eyes fixed on the doorway.
A figure stood there, silhouetted in the dim light of the corridor—a Lucius, like a wolf caught in headlights.
Leonard had returned.
His face bore the marks of fatigue, perhaps genuine weariness, but shrouded in shadow it was inscrutable.
He stepped into the room blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within.
“My love,” he began, his voice carrying an air of what sounded like... sincere concern?
“How is everything...”
He trailed off mid-sentence as his carefully crafted charm melted away like ice in dragon fire.
His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him—tear-streaked faces, clenched fists, and an unmistakable tension hanging in the air like a magical curse.
“What... what is going on?”
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