CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (29)
Damiel rarely dreamed.
Sleep had never been a refuge for him.
It was merely another battlefield.
And today was no different.
Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction.
Cold chains coiled around his wrists and ankles, disappearing into the endless void beneath him. They neither hurt nor loosened. They had always been there, as familiar to him as his own heartbeat.
He stood in silence.
Across the darkness, a familiar figure stood with his back turned.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Motionless.
Even the darkness seemed to bend around him.
Neither spoke for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, the figure broke the silence.
"You've begun to notice."
Damiel's ash-colored eyes narrowed.
"I've noticed many things."
"A human."
The shadow's voice was calm, deep, and strangely familiar.
"No power."
"No noble blood."
"No ancient lineage."
"No prophecy."
"And yet..."
His voice lowered into little more than a whisper.
"You brought her here."
Damiel's expression remained unreadable.
"She is my slave."
A quiet chuckle echoed through the darkness.
"You've deceived many."
The shadow slowly turned toward him, though his face remained concealed beneath the darkness.
"But you've never been able to deceive yourself."
Damiel said nothing.
The chains around him rattled softly.
"You believe you chose her."
"You didn't."
"You merely answered a call that neither of us understood."
"I don't believe in fate," Damiel replied.
The shadow shook his head.
"Neither do I."
A brief silence followed.
"Fate is a path laid before you."
"Destiny is a path you choose."
Damiel's gaze remained fixed on him.
"I believe in neither."
"I know."
The shadow took another slow step.
"You believe only in strength."
His voice became quieter.
"Then understand this..."
"The girl is the key to a strength you have never touched."
For the first time, Damiel frowned.
The shadow walked toward a vast expanse of black water, its surface as still as glass.
"The girl..."
"...possesses no hidden power."
"No ancient blood."
"No forgotten inheritance."
"No divine blessing."
"She is completely human."
Damiel's curiosity finally surfaced.
"Then why her?"
The shadow smiled faintly.
"Because not everything capable of changing the world is born powerful."
Silence settled over the void.
The black water rippled gently.
"The chains around us..."
The shadow lifted his own hands.
Only then did Damiel notice identical chains binding his wrists and ankles.
"They cannot be broken by force."
"They never could."
"They require a key."
Damiel's eyes sharpened.
"And you believe she's that key?"
"I don't believe."
The shadow looked directly at him.
"I know."
His words echoed endlessly through the darkness.
"But not because she possesses power."
"Because she awakens what has remained buried."
His gaze never left Damiel.
"You believe these chains imprison me, they do not."
"They imprison you, they always have."
Damiel's jaw tightened.
"You have spent your entire life believing this version of yourself is your peak."
A faint smile crossed the shadow's lips.
"When in truth..."
"...it is only your beginning."
Damiel didn't understand what the shadow meant, he is already known as the most powerful demon in all six realms, and yet he was still at the beginners stage.
"You have mistaken restraint for limitation."
"You have mistaken ignorance for truth."
"You have no idea what sleeps within you, Damiel."
"...or rather who or how powerful I am."
The darkness trembled, Damiel could feel the coldness and stillness in the air.
"And she alone possesses the ability to awaken it."
"You restrain yourself."
"And by doing so..."
"You restrain me."
The void shook once more.
The black water erupted with images.
Burning villages.
Slaughtered livestock.
Smoke rising beneath crimson skies.
Werewolves tearing through helpless settlements.
Then—
A pair of glowing red eyes watched from deep within the forest.
Patient.
Calculating.
Ancient.
"The werewolves are not leading themselves."
"The wolves believe they are hunters."
"But even hunters can wear collars."
Damiel's expression darkened.
"So there actually was a force controlling them." Damiel said more to himself, In a quiet whisper.
"Yes there is."
The shadow watched the burning images.
"What does the creature controlling the werewolves want?, power, glory", Damiel asked as he tried to hide his curiosity. There was something everyone always wanted from, him, every single one, and all of it was either to hurt him or wasn't in his interest
"They move in this kingdom like pieces upon a board." The shadow started.
"They test borders."
"They provoke soldiers."
"They study responses."
"They are not seeking victory."
"They are measuring you."
The images shifted again.
"Their attacks are not the war."
"They are the invitation."
"They wish to know whether the Commander of Avalon plays by the rules already written..."
"...or whether he is capable of overturning the board entirely, by bringing his own piece, to play."
Silence followed.
"And your answer..." The shadow started,
"...will determine how long they'll continue preparing, for the real war."
The shadow slowly turned back toward Damiel.
For the briefest moment, Damiel almost saw his face.
It looked...
Familiar, but then the image disappeared from his memory.
"When that day comes..."
"You will stand at a crossroads."
"The Commander Avalon forged..."
"...or the man she sees when she looks into your eyes."
The darkness slowly swallowed him once again.
His final words lingered.
"Protect her."
"Not because she is weak."
"But because the day someone discovers why she matters..."
"...they will never stop trying to reach her to get to you."
Everything shattered.
--------
Damiel's eyes snapped open.
Morning light filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a pale golden glow.
For a long moment, he remained still.
The shadow's words echoed through his mind.
"The day someone discovers why she matters..."
He exhaled quietly before turning.
Reyna was still asleep.
Peaceful.
Completely unaware of the war gathering beyond these walls.
A few moments later, she stirred.
Her eyelashes fluttered.
She stretched lazily before opening her eyes.
The moment she saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, she froze.
"Y-Your Highness..."
She immediately sat upright.
The startled look on her face irritated him far more than it should have.
He rose to his feet.
Then slowly walked toward her.
One step.
Then another.
Instinctively, Reyna leaned back until her shoulders rested against the wall beside the bed.
Damiel stopped only inches away.
"So..."
His voice was calm.
"Do I frighten you that much?"
She shook her head almost immediately.
"N-No, Your Highness."
"Hmm."
His silver eyes searched hers.
"And yet you look as though you've seen a vengeful ghost."
She lowered her gaze for only a second before looking back up, as though she remembered his warnings.
"I was only startled, your highness."
"Hmm" was all he said before,
He stepped closer.
Close enough for his warmth to surround her.
Close enough that she could catch the faint scent of cedarwood, leather, and smoke clinging to him.
"Tell me."
His voice softened.
"Is it because of these?"
He tilted his head ever so slightlyas he pointed to,
His silver eyes.
The eyes whispered about throughout Avalon.
The eyes even his father didn't look into, the eyes his stepmother and stepbrothers fear to look at.
The eyes soldiers never dared meet.
The eyes servants lowered themselves before.
The eyes the kingdom had named—
The Ashes of Hell.
They were unlike any eyes Reyna had ever seen.
Not simply silver.
They resembled the pale ashes left behind after an inferno had consumed everything in its path.
Cold.
Ancient.
Haunting.
Yet Beautiful.
Terrifying.
Cursed.
Damiel remembered the auction as clearly as if it had happened moments ago.
Hundreds of eyes had lowered the instant he entered.
Whispers had spread through the room.
"Don't meet his eyes."
"They say they're cursed."
"The Ashes of Hell..."
Everyone obeyed.
Everyone...
Except her.
She had looked directly into them.
Not out of defiance.
Not out of courage.
She had simply...
Looked.
As though the rumors meant nothing.
As though she'd become lost in them.
That single glance had unsettled him enough to raise his hand and buy her without another thought.
Even now...
Nothing had changed.
Reyna was staring again.
Her hazel eyes remained locked with his.
She wasn't trembling.
She wasn't forcing herself.
She wasn't trying to prove anything.
She had simply forgotten everything else.
The room disappeared.
The walls.
The morning light.
The bed.
Even Damiel standing so close.
All she could see were his eyes.
Like soft ashes drifting through the wind after a fire had long burned itself out.
There was sadness within them.
An endless loneliness.
A quiet sorrow hidden beneath centuries of silence.
She didn't understand how something so powerful, so cold, lonely, and terrifying, could be so beautiful, probably that's what made it hard to look away.
They were beautiful.
Not because they were unusual.
But because they looked as though they had carried the weight of the world alone for far too long.
Damiel waited.
Surely...
She would look away.
Everyone always did.
She didn't.
His heartbeat slowed.
Then quickened.
Without realizing it, he took another small step forward.
Still...
No fear.
No disgust.
No hesitation.
Only quiet admiration reflected in her eyes.
For the first time in centuries...
Prince Damiel wondered if the true curse had never been his eyes at all.
Perhaps it had been the fear people placed upon something they couldn't understand.
The fear that kept everyone from looking long enough to see beyond what lies within.
Until one ordinary human girl gazed into the Ashes of Hell...
...and saw not a monster—
But a lonely man hidden beneath them.