Chapter 53 - Helios (Part 2)

  -New Emperess's Room at Night-

  The room pulsed with malevolent energy, the firelight vomiting demonic shadows across the New Empress’s chambers. The st of scorched flesh hung thi the air, mingling with the acrid sting of sweat and blood. Eight-year-old Prince Helios y broken on the cold stone floor, his frail body a roadmap of fresh and half-healed wounds, eae a silent scream carved into his flesh.

  The red-hot metal rod hovered above his trembling skin, radiating unbearable heat before it even made tact. He knew what came . He had learned—again and again.

  The Empress didn’t hesitate. The searing iro his flesh with a hiss.

  Helios vulsed, his body arg violently as a ragged, inhuman wail tore from his throat. It wasn’t just pain—it was obliteration.

  “M-MOTHER—!” he shrieked, his small voice crag into fractured sobs. “PLEASE! I—BEG YOU! I’LL BE GOOD! I SWEAR—!”

  The New Empress barely blinked, her expression a frozen abyss of apathy. Her grip on the iron was steady, merciless.

  “I do not punish disobedience, Helios,” she murmured, pressing the rod deeper into his flesh. “I erase weakness.”

  The siing sizzle of burning skin filled the air, drowning out even his tortured screams. The pain was so deep, so all-ing, it felt as if his very bones were melting.

  Ohrohe Emperor watched with an expression of detached amusement. His lips curved into something too cruel to be called a smile.

  “Exquisite,” he whispered. “tinue.”

  Helios sobbed, his entire frame wracked with tremors. He could barely breathe. His mind was slipping, drifting away from the pain—but no, the pain dragged him back, anch him in its brutal embrace.

  The Empress moved with precision, burning along his arms, his ribs, the soft flesh of his thighs—pces that could be hiddeh robes, pces that would throb for days but never reveal their horror.

  He could no longer scream. His throat had given out, redug his agony to whimpering gasps, to silent, wretched sobs.

  At st, the Empress withdrew, wiping the iron with a white cloth that would never be white again. She turo her husband and bowed.

  “He will not fail again,” she said simply.

  The Emperor rose.

  “No,” he agreed. “He won’t.”

  The ge was immediate. The moment the Empress left, his touch became something else entirely. The precision of torture was gone—what remained was fury.

  He grabbed Helios by the hair and yanked him upright. The boy had nth to resist; his body flopped like a broken doll.

  “You pathetic little wretch,” the Emperor spat, his grip tightening until Helios thought his scalp might rip free. “Your existence is an insult to my blood.”

  The metal rod came down—not careful this time, but wild. It struck his ribs, his back, his legs. The agony was new, raw—blunt force breaking what the fire had left intact. Helios couldn’t even beg anymore. There was no mercy here.

  “Cry,” the Emperor hissed. “Louder.”

  He beat him. Again. Again.

  And when Helios stopped making a sound, when his tiny body could do nothing but twitly then did the Emperor release him, letting him colpse in a heap on the cold stone floor.

  A pause.

  Then, a smile.

  “See that he survives,” he said to the guards. “He must learn to endure.”

  The st thing Helios saw before the darkness swallowed him was the flicker of firelight on the blood-slicked floor.

  -Winter Night; Garden-

  The pace gardens, once a sanctuary of beauty and life, now stood as a frozen wastend uhe unfiving winter sky. The air was razor-sharp, each breath slig through Helios's lungs like shattered gss. Snow bhe grounds, its pristine surface marred only by the faint imprints of his small, trembli. Ahead, the river y still, frozen solid beh the merciless winter moon, a mirror of the boy's own froze.

  Beside him stood the New Empress, a figure of trasts. Draped in luxurious furs, her warmth created an imperable barrier between them, as vast and insurmountable as the social chasm that separated ruler from the ruled. Helios, nothing but thin, tattered pants, fought against the violent shudders wrag his frail body. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood—anything to keep his teeth from chattering, from making a sound that might displease her.

  The Empress k, her firag Helios's frostbitten cheek in a mockery of tenderness. "Helios, sleep here, okay?" Her voice was gentle, almost kind, a stark trast to the cruelty of her as. The words hung in the air, a and disguised as a suggestion, leaving no room for protest or plea.

  Then, without a backward gnce, she turned and walked away. No b was offered, no fire lit, no shelter provided. The boy was left alone, a small figure against the vast, unfiving ndscape of winter.

  As the Empress's footsteps faded, the snow began to fall in whispers, delicate and cruel. Helios k by the frozen river, curling in on himself as if trying to preserve what little warmth remained in his body. The cold g him relentlessly, seeping into his bones, coiling around his heart like an icy serpent.

  Yet, Helios did not cry. He did not call for her to return. Experience had taught him the futility of such as. Instead, he simply y down, allowing the frost to embrace him like a mother would—the only embrace he knew.

  This was not the first time Helios had faced such a night, nor would it be the st. As the cold intensified, he felt his sciousness begin to slip away. It was a familiar sensation, this dah death that winter brought. And like every winter night before, he surrendered himself to the cold, uain if m would find him alive or frozen.

  In this moment of vulnerability, Helios's thoughts drifted to warmer days, to memories of kindness long past. But reality was cold and unyielding, much like the frozen grouh him. As sciousness faded, one question lingered in his mind: Would this be the night the cold finally cimed him?

  The garden, once a pce of life and growth, now stood as a silent wito the cruelty of both nature and humanity. And in its icy embrace, a small boy fought for survival, his fate as uain as the first light of dawn.

  -Summer 12PM, Rooftop-

  The tiles beh Helios’s bare feet burned like embers. The summer air was thick, suffog, the heat radiating off the rooftop iless waves. Sweat slicked his body, his skin reddening uhe merciless gaze of the suhough dawn was hours away.

  The Empress stood beside him, serene, untouched by the agony that coiled through his limbs. She lifted a perfectly manicured hand aured to the vast sky above.

  "Stand here," she murmured, her voice carrying no malio warmth. "Until evening, okay?"

  Helios did not question. He did not plead.

  He bowed his head.

  And she left.

  The hours stretched, a slow and silent torment. The pace awoke beh him, the sounds of king dishes, ughter, and the rustling of servants’ robes drifting up to the rooftop. He remaiill.

  The sun climbed higher. The heat became unbearable. His skin blistered, cracked, his vision swam with feverish mirages of shade, of water, of merone came.

  By midday, his legs trembled. By the afternoon, his lips were cracked and bleeding. By the evening, he swayed, on the edge of colpse.

  Only then did she return.

  She did not ask if he was in pain. She did not aowledge the sufferiched into every inch of his body.

  She merely said, "Good," before walking away.

  And Helios, burnt and shaking, followed.

  Hades knew nothing of this.

  He dined in the halls of splendor, his every whim indulged, his every need met. He ughed in the warmth of the royal chambers, oblivious to the brother who, mere steps away, y shivering in the snow or burnih the sun.

  Hades lived as a prince should.

  Helios did not live at all.

  -After Hades and Helios turned 12; Their Room-

  Silken drapes fluttered as a gentle breeze passed through the open window, carrying with it the st of dle olished wood. The chamber was bathed in the warm glow of golden dlelight, the flickering fmes casting soft, inviting shadows. Laughter filled the room—Hades’s ughter.

  "WOAH! These gifts are awesome! Don’t you think so, Helios?" Hades excimed, tearing into another eborately ed present. Silver ribbons and fine part littered the carpet as he marveled at each treasure—a jeweled dagger, a gilded book, fine silks imported from distant nds.

  Across from him, Helios sat motionless, his hands resting on his p, his fingers curled slightly as if afraid to touything. A pile of gifts y before him, untouched. But he khe truth—none of them were his. They were simply pced there for the illusion of fairness, a cruel joke dressed in gold a.

  On the bed, the New Empress watched.

  Helios felt her presence like a k his throat.

  "HELIOS."

  The single word cracked through the room like a whip.

  His breath caught. His pulse thundered in his ears. The Empress’s eyes had widened, a silent promise of pain lurkih their gssy surface. His body moved before his mind could register the and.

  "Ye-yes," he stammered, voice barely above a whisper, his hands trembling in his p.

  Hades groaned dramatically, throwing himself backward onto the carpet. "AHH, why are you s, Helios?" he whined. "It’s our birthday, lighten up!"

  Helios said nothing. His tongue felt like lead.

  Hades turned his gaze to him, squinting as if truly notig him for the first time. His lips twisted into a frown. "And why are you getting so thin?"

  Helios flinched—just slightly, almost imperceptibly. But the Empress saw it. He knew she did.

  His heart pounded.

  She smiled.

  It was not a kind smile.

  Helios lowered his gaze, his fingers curling into fists. He could not answer.

  Because how could he?

  How could he expin that while Hades feasted, he starved?

  That while Hades slept in warmth, he y beh the winter sky?

  That while Hades was bathed in light, he drowned in darkness?

  How could he say any of it?

  He couldn’t.

  And so, as always—he remained silent.

  -In the Hall-

  The stone corridors stretched endlessly, dimly illuminated by flickering torches. The cold air carried a hushed urgency, a weight of something forbidden.

  "Renna?" Helios murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he caught sight of the girl running through the hall.

  A rge brown sack swung behind her back, its tents king softly. She skidded to a stop, her breath sharp and shallow, her eyes darting around as if chased by unseeers.

  Then, she saw him.

  Without hesitation, she unfastehe sack, peeling back the rough fabriside, hiddeh yers of cloth, y an old, tattered book. She pulled it out and shoved it into Helios’s hands.

  Helios squi the faded text, his lips parting slightly as he whispered the title.

  "Bck… Magic?"

  "SHHH!" Renna hissed, her index finger pressing hard against her lips. Her wide eyes shimmered with a desperate warning. "Don’t say it out loud! Just keep it. Read it when no one’s watg."

  She turned on her heels. "I'm going now. Please take care, Yhness."

  And with that, she disappeared into the shadows, the echoes of her hurried footsteps swallowed by the cold silence of the pace.

  -Iic-

  The attic was suffog, filled with dust that g to Helios’s skin like a sed yer of filth. The single, dying mp he had lit barely held back the darkness, casting wavering shadows that seemed to breathe with him.

  His firaced the book’s worn cover before he flipped it open. The pages crackled like brittle leaves beh his touch. He had taught himself to read i—hidden away in fotten ers of the pace, pieg together letters uhe dim moonlight when no one was watg. And now, he was ready.

  The sed he turo a random page—

  "Prince HELIOS! Prince! Prince! Prince Helios!"

  A maid’s voice shattered the stillness, urgent and panicked.

  Helios’s heart lurched. His fingers fumbled as he smmed the book shut. He shoved it behind a loose floorboard, his hands trembling as he scrambled out of the attic.

  "Where is he?" he gasped.

  "The basement," the maid stammered. "His Majesty is waiting for you."

  Something io a ripple of unease down his spine.

  -In the Basement-

  The air was thick—choking, rotten, stagnant. The st of rusted iron curled into Helios’s nostrils, sharp aallic, mingling with the damp musk of a stohe dim golden light from the small, barred window barely reached the ers of the room, leaving parts of the basement in lurking, shifting shadows.

  His footsteps echoed, unnervingly loud in the oppressive silence.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  His father stood before the window, his hulking figure frozen in eerie stillness. The firelight flickered against his broad shoulders, painting a monstrous silhouette. A cold draft whistled through the cracks in the walls, ahe Emperor did not move.

  Something was wrong.

  Helios swallowed. The saliva in his throat felt like needles.

  "Father?" he called softly, hesitantly.

  For a moment—nothing. Then—

  "YESSSSSS, I did."

  The reply did not sound human.

  It slithered from his father’s lips, wet and guttural, like something pulled from the depths of rot and ruin. It was a voice lined with madness, with something far more terrifying than mere cruelty.

  To be tinued...