Astelion POV:
The months blurred into a heavy, quiet stretch of routine.True to his word, Kiono visited me whenever he could find a sliver of time, sliding through the arched window in the dark of night and holding me until dawn. And true to my word, I never took a single step outside the house. He reassured me over and over that he was carefully piecing together a plan—a way to free us permanently—and promised he would give me a clear signal when the time came for me to pack up and leave for good.
So I waited. I sat in the quiet, cozy house surrounded by glowing roots, daydreaming endlessly about our future together. I pictured a life with Kiono, raising our child in peace, far away from bloodlines, prophecies, and tyrant kings. Yet a dark, persistent worry lingered in the back of my mind—what would happen if I was forced back into the future? What would become of the sweet, tiny life growing inside me if the timeline pulled me away?
Castel never came searching for me. I didn't sense his oppressive aura anywhere near the borders of Aiga, nor did Kiono ever mention the Mad King launching a search party for my head. It was as if I had vanished from the living world entirely.
I sat beside the arched window, my long hair cascading past my shoulders in thick, vibrant waves, blending into fiery red at the tips. Dressed in a delicate white nightgown, I gently stroked the heavy curve of my pregnant stomach. The baby kicked firmly against my palm—strong, active, and alive. A soft, genuine smile touched my lips.
Then, a sudden wave of sound broke through the quiet sanctuary. Shouts echoed up from the dusty streets below. I froze, my hand still resting over my belly, and peered down through the glass. Dozens of people—ordinary, magicless humans wielding crude iron swords, pitchforks, and makeshift spears—were gathering in the square. Their angry, unified chants rattled the windowpane.
"The tyrant must die! The tyrant must die! The tyrant must die!" They raised their weapons toward the sky, their faces twisted with fiery, relentless rage.
I slowly stood up from the chair, a cold wave of dread washing over me. What is happening? A rebellion?
Panic coiled tightly in my chest. A rebellion against Castel was absolute, guaranteed suicide. His telekinetic power alone could snap their necks before they took a single step into the palace courtyard. Was this the grand plan Kiono had been talking about? Was he really leading these desperate, defenseless people straight to their deaths?
Questions spun violently in my head, making my vision blur. Needing to ground myself, I picked up a small glass of water resting on the bedside table and took a slow, desperate sip.
The arched window burst open with a harsh crack of wind. Kiono stood on the wooden ledge, his cloak billowing around his shoulders. "It's time," he urged, his voice tight and urgent as he held his hand out toward me. "Take my hand."
I stared at his outstretched palm, the cold glass trembling in my grip, before reaching out and forcefully slapping his hand away.
"Are you mad?!" I shouted, my voice shaking with raw disbelief. "You started a rebellion?!"
"Come on, Astelion, there isn't much time!" Kiono snapped, taking a step into the room.
"You are going to have all those innocent people killed!" I cried, pointing toward the window where the angry chants were growing louder. "They don't stand a chance against Castel!"
"They agreed to this!" Kiono argued, his eyes narrowing as his tone turned sharp, almost venomous. "If you want us to have a chance at a future together—alive, with our child—you will stop being so damn stubborn and come with me right now!"
"No," I whispered fiercely, stepping back.
The second the word left my mouth, Kiono's blue eyes flickered—the brilliant color vanishing as his irises bled into a terrifying, pitch-black void.
He stepped fully into the room, his jaw set in a cold, murderous line. Behind him, the heavy wooden window slammed shut with a deafening thud, locking us in darkness.