Dark, iridescent crimson blood began to flow into the glass chamber, swirling like liquid starlight.
Aefia felt a sudden, sickening tug deep within her chest—as if a thread tied directly to her soul were being pulled taut and violently snapped. Her breath hitched again, her vision swimming for a fraction of a second as the crimson magic bound within her blood was forcefully extracted from her circulation.
"You think... you can contain a Guardian's power?" Aefia ground out through grit teeth, her voice trembling slightly from the sheer, unnatural violation of the extraction. "It will burn your heart to ash, Kazimir... You are a parasite choking on food too rich for your stomach..."
"I will refine it," Kazimir replied calmly, watching the syringe fill with absolute fascination—his eyes glowing with an unhinged, hungry light. "A drop a day. Integrated slowly into my own blood pathways. By the time your official trial comes, I won't need the ministers' approval. I won't need the border guards' loyalty. I will be the most powerful being on this continent, and they will bow to me out of sheer, absolute terror."
He pulled the needle free with a sharp, careless jerk.
Aefia let out a low, ragged hiss, her hand instinctively flying to her elbow as a thin bead of dark crimson blood welled from the puncture mark.
Kazimir stood up smoothly, holding the full syringe up to the light—admiring the swirling, luminescent red fluid inside. He didn't look back at her. He didn't offer a handkerchief or a word of farewell unlike how the previous time was. He simply turned on his heel, unlocked the heavy iron door, and stepped out into the corridor. The heavy lock clicking securely and loudly behind him.
The cell fell into dead silence once more.
Aefia remained on her knees on the cold stone floor, her left hand pressed tightly over the puncture mark on her inner elbow. Her dark hair fell over her face, shadowing her expression as her chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths.
She didn't utter a word.
It was alright if it were normal blood extraction. But having your magic drained from you is far more costly and dangerous then anything else. Your wound would almost never close if too much of it were taken. Simple thing... Blood clots prevent excess blood lose.
For five long minutes, she couldn't move.
The cell remained entirely silent—save for the slow, rhythmic drip of water into the stone basin.
Her chest heaved with shallow, careful breaths as she focused inward, feeling the subtle, jarring void left in her veins. It wasn't a fatal loss—a single syringe was a drop in an ocean compared to the true, nearly infinite depth of a Guardian's power—but the sudden, artificial drain had left her lightheaded. A dull, throbbing ache radiating behind her eyes.
It was a minuscule fraction of her true reservoir, yet the artificial drain left her consciousness pulsing behind her eyes.
Impatient, she thought, her mind working through the shift in his behavior with clinical precision. He couldn't even wait for the coronation.
Kazimir had taken the bait, but he was rushing the timeline. He was terrified of his own ministers, terrified of the rumors, and now he was turning to the most volatile shortcut available.
"Aefia!"
Puppet materialized on the floor beside her, its tiny plush paws hovering frantically over her bleeding arm, its stitched face contorted in pure distress. "Aefia, are you okay?! He... he actually took your blood! He actually did it though I meant it as a joke!"
Aefia slowly let out a long, shaky exhale, leaning back against the side of the bed frame. She pulled her hand away from her arm, looking down at the small red smudge on her skin. Though the pain immediately made her groan and cluntch that part again.
"I am fine, Puppet," she murmured, her voice raspy and faint. "A small gap... nothing more."
"How dare he even think to come back!" Puppet squeaked, its voice trembling with anger. "He even said he is going to do it every day! What a psycho!"
A thin, cold smile slowly resurfaced on Aefia's pale lips as she looked toward the locked iron door.
"Let him," she whispered softly, her fingers closing into a tight fist over her knee. "A parasite only grows comfortable when it thinks the host is defenseless. He wants my power... Take it. Though I am not going to face the consequences of being fuel for fire in the future."
Aefia slowly released her arm and stood up.
The white fabric of her skirt fell back into place, unwrinkled and still pristine. She walked back to the edge of the bed, sat down, and folded her hands over her lap.
The heavy dark-iron cuffs clinked once against her wrists.
She closed her eyes, letting her breathing settle into a quiet, imperceptible rhythm.
Let him consume it. She leaned her head back against the stone wall, her face entirely impassive, and waited in the dark.
"I am also waiting to see... How far he is willing to take things." She chuckled.
"...Aefia?" Puppet looked suspiciously at her.
She looked back down at it. Her eyes were glazed over, with a small predatory light glinting in each one of her irises. "What do you say? Imagine that one day, he wakes up and walks down to this prison and suddenly realized he is about to lose his head?"
"I think the blood extraction got to your head..."
"No wait... He did cross so many lines that day during the execution. I am just wondering... What punishment should be better for him? Do I publically humiliate him into taking his own life? Should I?"
Puppet gritted its teeth as it pounced at her face.
"Aefia! Snap out of it!" It shouted. "Are you insane?! You were completely fine the last time! What is up with you?!"
Her eyes widened and inch. Then immediately, she shut them again and rubbed her face.
"Yeah... That blood withdrawing got to me." She whispered, looking towards the end of the cell with detachment. "And I feel pretty isolated nowadays..."
Puppet let out a breath of relief. Stepping back and then settled onto the foot of the bed.
Poor kid... She did get her engagement ring taken off and sold too. And right now... She has every right to wish for revenge and the worst death of him. It thought to itself.
"Aefia." It softly called out.
"Hm?" Her head tilted slightly to its direction. Her eyes caring subtle hints of hollowness.
"Don't you want to send a message to Helio by chance? Maybe you want to check in on how they are doing?" It asked. "Doing that may feel kind of nice you know."
She simply looked away again. Silence took over the cell a second time.
I know it is kind of painful for her. But her humanity is slowly...
"I guess..." She answered with a soft sigh. "It does sound nice."
"Right?" Puppet finally smiled.
"Though I am worried."
"...About what?"
"His reaction," she covered her face into both her hands. "I doubt he will be happy to know I am still in prison. So I am afraid of sending the message in the first place. What if he is mad?"
"..."
Puppet didn't have anymore words to say.
Aefia—having always grown up with a very cynical mind—was going to be hard to encourage in this state and environment.
***
On the other side, the afternoon sun spilled across the wooden floors of a quiet, unassuming cottage hidden deep within the treeline. The room smelled faintly of drying herbs and old parchment—a stark, peaceful contrast to the damp, stone-heavy air of Mides' deep wards.
Helio stood at the kitchen sink, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms as cool water ran over his hands. A small stack of ceramic plates sat on the counter beside him, but his movements were stiff, entirely mechanical.
Two months.
It had been sixty-one days since Aefia had stepped out of the apartment doors. Two months without a single message even with a butterfly or not, slipping through the window sill. Two months of total, suffocating silence.
The official news from Mides had reached the border towns weeks ago—shouted by town criers and pinned to wooden posts. The King was dead—executed on his own scaffold. Prince Kazimir had claimed the crown, declaring a new era over the kingdom's ash.
Every report mentioned the regicide. None mentioned the Guardian.
Helio's jaw tightened. He leaned forward, resting both hands heavily against the edge of the wooden basin, his head hanging low between his shoulders. His chest rose and fell in sharp, forced breaths as his mind replayed her final words to him before she left.
'It will take time, Helio. And if I do not return... do not look for me.'
Foolish woman, he thought, his knuckles turning white against the wood. You thought giving me a warning would make it easier to sit here and wait?
A sudden, sharp spasm ran through his grip. The glass cup he was holding slipped from his wet fingers, shattering against the stone bottom of the sink with a harsh, brittle crack. Shards of glass glinted beneath the running water.
He suddenly snapped back to reality looked down at his own unharmed hands.sighing heavily through his nose.
"Helio?"
A soft, hesitant voice spoke from the hallway doorway.
Helio froze for a fraction of a second before turning off the tap. He didn't look back immediately, taking a quiet, steadying breath to smooth out his expression before wiping his hands on a clean cloth.
Felix stood at the entrance, holding a tablet in one hand and a set of earphones in another. At fifteen, Aefia's younger brother carried the same sharp, striking features as his sister. Though his eyes lacked the heavy cynicism that had burned into hers from all the situations she had come to face. He looked down at the shattered glass in the sink, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Are you alright?" Felix asked, stepping closer. "You have been staring at that window for an hour."
"I am fine," Helio replied smoothly, his tone low and even as he reached into the basin to pick up the larger pieces of broken glass. "Just careless. Go wash up for dinner."
He tossed the shards into the iron waste bin, drying his hands once more, and walked past Felix without waiting for a response. He headed straight down the short corridor into Felix's bedroom, where a basket of freshly washed laundry sat beside the small wooden side-table.
Helio sat on the edge of the bed and began folding a heavy tunic. His movements swift, practiced, and entirely devoid of its usual warmth.
Felix followed him into the room, leaning his body against the doorframe. He didn't sit down. He simply stood there, watching the tight, rigid line of Helio's shoulders.
"You are packing," Felix observed quietly, noticing a small backpack sitting half-full beside the bed. "What is honestly in your mind?"
Helio didn't stop folding. "I am making arrangements. Tomorrow morning, I am taking you to the southern estate in Trinvina. Your sister has a tightly secure mansion sitting at the edge of a coastal area. Her duchy is out of the Mides reach, I have a trusted partner there and his men owe me a debt. You will stay there for a few days."
Felix's eyes narrowed slightly. "A few days? Why? What are you doing?"
"I have business to take care of across the opposite border," Helio said flatly, stacking the folded tunic neatly into the basket. "It doesn't concern you."
Silence stretched between them in the small room, heavy and tense. Felix didn't throw a tantrum. He didn't raise his voice or fight the directive. He simply stood his ground, his gaze fixing on Helio with a quiet, piercing intensity that felt eerily familiar.
"You are quite unusual. And why the duchy in specific? Aren't we doing well in the city?"
"Yes, we are. But it is too close to the Mides border and you share the identical features of your sister."
Felix let out a low, humorless huff, shifting his grip on the tablet in his hand. He stepped further into the bedroom, his gaze cutting straight through Helio's composed facade with a sharp, unyielding clarity that mirror-imaged Aefia's own infuriating persistence.
"Don't change the subject, Helio," Felix said softly, his voice dropping into a quiet, dangerous register. "You haven't checked your phone in three days. You have broken two glasses this week alone. And now you are suddenly shipping me off to her duchy under armed guard."
Helio's fingers paused for a fraction of a second over the collar of a folded shirt before he smoothed out the fabric with deliberate, methodical care. He didn't look up. "I am ensuring your safety. That is my only priority while your sister is away."
"Away where?" Felix pressed, taking another step forward until he stood directly beside the bed. "She said she was taking care of a minor affair in the capital. She said it would take a few weeks at most. It has been two full months, Helio. Two months of silence, and now Mides has a new King who executed his own father in cold blood."
Helio set the shirt into the basket with a heavy, final thud. He slowly stood up, turning to face the boy. Standing at his full height, his dark eyes were completely unreadable—cold, guarded, and devoid of the easy patience he usually offered the younger teen.
He knew Felix knew the entire truth of what Aefia had said. But the kid was lying and acting like he didn't. It only meant one thing.
"I gave you an order, Felix," Helio replied, his voice a low murmur that left no room for negotiation. "Pack your things. We leave at dawn."
Felix stared up at him, his jaw clenching as he recognized the impenetrable wall Helio had thrown up. He didn't yell. He simply set his tablet down on the side-table and met Helio's gaze with cold, quiet defiance. "You are going after her."
Helio said nothing. He simply stepped past the fifteen-year-old and walked out into the corridor, leaving the silence of the room to swallow the unanswered truth.
"Did something happen to Aefia?" Felix asked softly, following over shortly afterwards.