Chapter 52 - Helios (Part 1)

  The King's head suddenly drooped, his regal bearing faltering.

  *COUGH*

  *COUGH*

  *COUGH*

  A series of violent coughs wracked his body, eaore forceful tha. Without warning, he crumpled to the ground, sciousness ging by a thread.

  The King's head suddenly drooped, his regal bearing faltering. A series of violent coughs wracked his body, eaore forceful tha. Without warning, he crumpled to the ground, sciousness ging by a thread.

  "Your Majesty!" The reporters cried out in unison, rushing to aid their fallen monarch. They gently helped him to his feet, etched on their faces. The King, in his relentless pursuit of duty, had ed his own well-being.

  "Greetings, Your Majesty." A familiar voice cut through the chaos, its tone carrying an undercurrent of something...off. The King's head snapped around, reition dawning in his eyes.

  In a fsh of movement, the King seized the newer by the colr, pulling him close. "You fug asshole," he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. Turning back to the startled reporters, he barked, "You may leave." As they scurried away, he rounded on the man again. "AND AS FOR YOU."

  The man, revealed to be Kyle Bruhe King's personal advisor, stood impassively, his expression ulingly strange.

  "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" The King loomed over Kyle, still clutg his colr. But something in Kyle's demeanave him pause. "What is it?" he asked, his head tilting slightly, worry creeping into his voice.

  Kyle grasped the King's hands, freeing himself from the grip. He stepped back, his gaze fixed on the ground, an air of unspoken dread surrounding him.

  Helios reached out, overriding his anger, his hand moving towards Kyle's shoulder. But before he could make tact, a voice shattered the moment.

  "So, this is what you've been doing."

  The words hung in the air, each sylble dripping with familiar venom. Helios felt his body gid, a tremor running through him even as his gaze remained locked on Kyle. He didn't o look up to know who had spoken. That voice, so agly familiar, promised a reing he had long feared would e.

  "RAISE YOUR HEAD," the man ordered, his voice dripping with pt. "OR DO YOU WISH TO BE TAUGHT THAT AS WELL?"

  Helios, the once-mighty King, trembled violently before his elder brother, Hades. Their resembnce was uny - both possessed the same pale blond hair that seemed to catch light like spun gold, the same ruby-red eyes that could pierce through souls. They were of simir build, her particurly short nor muscur, but there was something in their shared geieage that made their simirity almost uling.

  Yet in this moment, the simirity only amplified Helios' terror. His body betrayed his fear - a visceral, primal respohat stripped away every shred of royal dignity. Each muscle quivered untrolbly, his hands shaking so intehat they seemed disected from his body.

  His breath came in short, desperate gasps - ragged and uneven. Sweat beaded on his forehead, trig down his temples, revealing the depth of his fear. Their shared features made his terror even more pronounced - as if looking into a mirror that reflected his most profound weaknesses.

  The King's eyes, usually sharp and anding, were now wide and gssy - filled with a terror that spoke of deep-rooted trauma. They darted nervously, uo maintain direct eye tact with eyes so simir to his own, flickering with the remembered pain of past frontations.

  His spine curved slightly, as if anticipating a blohysical maion of the psychological submission that his elder brother could instantaneously invoke. In this moment, Helios was not a king, but a frightened child - reduced to a state of absolute vulnerability by the mere presence of the man before him.

  The trembling was not just physical, but seemed to emanate from his very soul - a plete and total breakdown of his carefully structed royal persona.

  The air crackled with tension as Hades, the biological father of Luxana, narrowed his ruby-red eyes at Helios. The once-mighty King of Domino stood trembling, his regal bearing shattered by the mere presence of his elder brother.

  Hades approached with deliberate steps, eaent radiating an otherworldly power. Helios instinctively retreated, his body betraying his fear. In a swift motion, Hades' hand csped Helios' shoulder, the touch electrid terrifying.

  Suddenly, Hades yanked Helios forward, his grip vise-like on the back of his brother's neck. Their foreheads collided, bringing them eye to eye. The simirity of their features - the same pale blond hair, the same ruby-red eyes - made the frontation all the more uling.

  "WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?" Hades' voice was a low, menag growl that seemed to emanate from the depths of the underworld itself. His words carried the weight of eons, promisiribution.

  Helios, in a desperate bid for freedom, pushed against Hades' chest, breaking free from the iron grip. He stumbled backward, his upper body hunched, gasping for air as if he'd been submerged in the River Styx itself.

  But Hades was relentless. He seized Helios' hands, and in a fluid motion that spoke of a bat training, delivered a powerful kick to his brother's stomach. The impact sent Helios flying, his body crumpling to the ground like a discarded puppet.

  As sciousness fled from Helios, the st thing he saw was Hades looming over him, a dark silhouette against the bright Domino sky - a stark reminder of the chasm between the realm of light he ruled and the shadowy domain of his brother.

  -30 years ago, Helia Pace, Garden-

  The sun-dappled gardens of Helia Pace echoed with the joyous ughter of two young princes. Five-year-old Helios, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight, chased after his elder brother Hades, their small feet pattering against the lush grass.

  "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! STOOOOOOOOOOOOOP! I 't catch you!" Helios cried out, his voice a mixture of frustration and delight.

  Hades, a mischievous grin on his face, called back over his shoulder, "HEHEEEE! You 't catch meee!" The two boys darted between flowerbeds and fountains, their loyal retinue of maids and servants trailing behind, trying to keep up with the eic princes.

  At a nearby table, the Emperor and Empress of Domino sat in quiet te, sipping fiea as they watched their children py. The Empress's eyes softened with maternal affe as she observed the se.

  "How I wish they preserve this profound affe throughout their lives," the Empress remarked, delicately sipping her preferred tea.

  The Emperor nodded in agreement, pg his haly over his beloved wife's. "Indeed, my dear," he responded warmly.

  However, a shadow of crossed the Empress's face. "My love," she began, her voice tinged with maternal ay, "Regarding the matter of succession - might we sider an alternative path? I fear sending Helios abroad for education would cause him profound distress. Would it not be possible te for another retive to i the throne? My heart trembles at the prospect of potential familial discord."

  The golden rule of Domino cast a long shadow over the idyllic se in the pace gardens. Feions, it had been decreed that all royal children, save for the chosen heir, must be sent abroad for their education. This harsh tradition, born from the blood-soaked pages of history, was desigo prevent the violent power struggles that had ohreateo tear the Empire asuhat's why, Helios' children lived far from Domino's borders, raised by their mothers in distant nds.

  The Emperor's eyes, usually alight with mirth as he watched his sons py, now held a weight that seemed to age him beyond his years. He turo his beloved wife, his voice a mixture of tenderness and resignation.

  "My dear," he began, each word carefully chosen, "your maternal instincts do you credit. The love you bear for our children is as boundless as the sky above us." He paused, his gaze drifting to where Hades and Helios chased each other, their ughter a stark trast to the gravity of the versation.

  "Yet," he tinued, his voice barely above a whisper, "we bear the not just for ourselves, but for all of Domino. The peace we enjoy now was bought with the tears and blood of our aors."

  The Empress reached out, her delicate hand c his. The Emperhed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of the entire kingdom.

  "However," he said, a glimmer of determination sparking in his eyes, "for the love I bear you and our sons, I shall endeavor to find a path that honors both tradition and the bonds of family. It will not be easy, but I give you my word - I will do my utmost."

  As the words left his lips, a gentle breeze swept through the garden, rustling the leaves and carrying with it the promise of ge. The future, o in stone, now seemed as fluid as the wind itself, full of both peril and possibility.

  -3 years ter, Royal Graveyard in Domino-

  The heave, mirr the somber mood that enveloped the Royal Graveyard of Domino. A sea of bck-cd figures - royal family members, pace servants, nobility - stood in silent reverence before the Empress's final resting pce. The railess in its dest, seemed to blur the lines between tears and raindrops.

  Prince Helios, his young face torted with grief, g desperately to his elder brother's sleeve. His sobs, though muffled, pierced the heavy silence. In stark trast, Prince Hades stood stoic, his fa imperable mask, betraying ion. The absence of the Emperor, who had chosen not to attend, cast a palpable shadow over the proceedings.

  -Inside Helia Pace, After the Funeral-

  The halls of Helia Pace buzzed with a nervous energy, a stark trast to the solemnity outside. Prince Hades, his eyes devoid of their usual luster, reached out to halt a passing maid by gently grasping her skirt.

  "What transpires within these walls?" he inquired, his voice barely above a whisper.

  The maid, caught between her duties and the heart-wreng sight before her, paused. Her gaze fell upoear-stained face of Prince Helios and the eerily posed Prince Hades. Mindful of her station, she ko meet their eyes, careful not to breach the unspoken barrier between royalty and servant.

  With a voice den with sorrow, she imparted, "Yhnesses... a new maternal figure shall soon grace these halls."

  Her words were cut short by a sharp and from the head maid, "Renna! Make haste!"

  Renna rose, casting a final, pained g the young princes - living portraits edy - before hurrying to her duties, leaving the children to grapple with this new, uliy.

  -Half a Year Later – M, The Dining Table-

  The golden light of m shrough the stained-gss windows of the royal dining hall, casting long, fractured shadows that stretched like grasping fingers across the marble floor. The opulence of the room—its t pilrs, its gilded deliers—was a world apart from the small, hollow-eyed boy who entered, his every movement precise, measured.

  Eight-year-old Prince Helios k before the Empress with meical grace, his delicate fingers produg a handkerchief as pristine as the expectations pced upon him. Without hesitation, he bent forward, pressing the cloth to the poiip of her jeweled slippers, moving in slow, deliberate circles. The repetitive motion was her a gesture of love nor respect. It was ritual. A ditioned response. A silent plea.

  The Empress did not aowledge him. She merely tinued sipping her m wihe light catg the cruel glint in her eyes.

  Helios rose and turo the Emperor. His father extended a polished boot, the supple leather immacute. Helios knew better than to assume perfe was enough—he scrubbed anyway.

  When he fihe Emperor finally moved. The sound of tearing bread filled the vast chamber, followed by the dull thud of a small, ragged piece hitting the boy’s waiting hands. Ohird of a loaf. Not a reward. A reminder.

  Helios bowed deeply, murmured his gratitude, areated in practiced silence. His back remairaight, his pace trolled, his exit graceful—anything less would warrant corre.

  -Evening, in the Garden-

  The pace gardens, bathed in twilight, were a realm of delicate beauty. White magnolias and night-blooming jasmine perfumed the air, their petals glowing silver beh the moonlight. It ce of serenity—for all but one.

  Helios moved through the garden with the same calcuted care he exhibited everywhere, bang a fragile por teapot upon a silver tray. His thin firembled from exertion, but he forced them steady. The New Empress sat beh a silk opy, surrounded by handmaidens who adorned her in the colors of dusk. She did not g the boy.

  He reached her table, l himself into a perfect bow. The cup, a delicate thing of bone a, ced before her with reverence.

  The garden fell silent.

  Helios did not breathe as she lifted the cup to her lips, tilting it ever so slightly. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. His hands ched the tray so tightly he thought his bones might snap.

  A single sip.

  A pause.

  The Empress set the cup down.

  Helios dared to hope.

  Then—her fiwitched. The cup toppled.

  Scalding tea cascaded over his hands, his arms, soaking through the thin fabric of his tunic. The pain was immediate, sharp—an acidic fire eating through flesh.

  Helios did not cry out. He did not move.

  The handmaidens tittered softly, their ughter like the rustling of silk.

  The Empress leaned back, unimpressed. "Brew it again," she said.

  And so he bowed, his blistered hands steady as he gathered the shattered cup, ign the way his skin peeled where the tea had kissed it.

  He turned.

  He walked.

  And he did not let them see him break.

  To be tinued...