Claudius

  The sounds of battle echoed through the air—women screaming, men choking as they fell. Ivory, the god-empress of OJAN, hovered above the chaos, her power cursing the men beneath her wrath, slaying them with a mere glance.

  Below, amidst the destruction, a woman hurried through the ruins, clutching her child tightly to her chest.

  “Don’t make a sound,” she whispered urgently, her voice trembling. “Stay quiet. Don’t say anything.”

  She shielded her son with her body, walking swiftly, desperate to protect him from the devastation.

  But then, Ivory descended, her eyes glowing with rage. She taunted the woman, her voice laced with venom.

  “I can smell Adam’s filthy seed. Do you think he will survive this?” Ivory hissed, her words dripping with disdain.

  As Ivory began chanting a curse, the four-year-old boy trembled with fear.

  A woman wrapped her body tighter around him, trying to shield him from the curse’s power. But it backfired, striking her instead. A searing pain cut across the right side of his face as the curse hit, leaving a deep burn.

  He watched helplessly as the woman collapsed before him.

  “Run,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Run, Claudius. Run. You’re innocent. I believe in you. You’ll save us… all of us…run and don’t stop don’t stop .”

  With his heart pounding, Claudius ran, fear surging through him as his mother’s last words echoed in his mind.

  He didn’t understand the pain on his face, but he didn’t stop running .

  Claudius woke suddenly, gasping for breath, sweat dripping down his face. His hand instinctively went to the scar on his cheek, and he covered his eyes with his forearm.

  Disoriented, he wondered why those memories had resurfaced now.

  He hadn't thought about them in over a hundred years. What was happening to him?

  He remembered Aly. Was she sent by Ivory for revenge?

  Before he could dwell on it any further, Aly’s image interrupted his thoughts—a vision of her kissing his scar, her warm smile brightening his mind.

  He shook his head, trying to dispel the thought.

  Moonlight filtered through the curtains, and his gaze drifted to the window.

  She was there, across from him—her hair gently swaying in the breeze as she leaned against the glass.

  She appeared so calm, completely unaware of the chaos swirling her.

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  For a moment, Claudius thought, She’s going to fail. But then a strange thought crossed his mind: Why was he concerned for her? His thoughts drifted back to the woman who had destroyed his kingdom and shattered his world—Ivory, the god of femininity.

  He shook his head, pushing the painful memories aside.

  Deciding to leave his room, he walked to hers without really thinking.

  He knocked softly at her door. When she turned to face him, surprise flickered across her features.

  She wore a nightgown, the satin fabric clinging to her form in a way that revealed her delicate curves.

  The air around her shimmered with a soothing, nearly irresistible energy.

  He was struck by her soft, delicate shape—so rare, so refreshing.

  Without thinking, he moved closer. She almost tripped, but he caught her before she fell, steadying her with a firm grip on her waist.

  “You can’t keep doing this,” he said quietly. “You’re going to fall one day.”

  She lowered her gaze, wrapping her arms around his neck in a shy gesture.

  The warmth of her touch stirred something deep within him. Without a second thought, he gently lifted her and positioned her on his lap.

  She didn’t seem to mind. His gaze locked on her face as he tried to understand the emotions swirling inside him.

  Her scent was sweet and comforting. Before he could resist, he found himself resting his head on her soft shoulder, drawn to the warmth of her body.

  It felt surreal, almost like a dream—the moment held a strangely intimate tenderness.

  After a long silence, she spoke softly, her voice a gentle whisper. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?”

  Claudius froze, taken aback. His mind raced, but before he could react, she continued, “Not sleep, really. I mean… just sleep next to me. It’s cold tonight, and I like the warmth you bring. You’re like my heater.”

  He didn’t respond immediately; his thoughts were still reeling. Her cheeks flushed a soft, delicate plum color, and he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her beauty.

  She gently slid out of his lap and extended her hand to him, guiding him to lie beside her.

  As she covered them both with the sheets, warmth enveloped him—a sensation he hadn’t experienced in centuries. He couldn’t even remember if he had ever felt like this before; the memory of his mother faded, with only a glimpse of her last moments etched in his mind.

  He held her hand as they lay together, and soon he began to hear a sweet, soothing lullaby, the melodic notes weaving through the air.

  The world outside faded away, leaving them cocooned in their own peaceful bubble as they drifted into a serene sleep

  Aly

  Another day passed, but nothing particularly new happened.

  I received the books I had been waiting for, and to my surprise, they were all about cooking, bird species, and flowers—nothing of great importance.

  I tried looking for the beautiful bird that visits every morning to wake me up, but its name wasn't in the encyclopedia.

  Although it claimed to contain every bird of OJAN, I couldn’t find him. Still, I spent the day reading and learning.

  Now I can name every bird that visits in the morning or evening—something I never would have done back home. It’s funny how things change.

  Time has altered me in ways I never expected. Anyway, I tried to make the best of it.

  That night, I sat by the window, unable to sleep.

  The room was unusually cold, and I couldn’t understand why.

  I opened the window, bringing in a stool so I could climb up and peer outside.

  The view was mesmerizing—the galaxy of stars and the full moon illuminated the night sky.

  I took a deep breath, contemplating my future and my plans. What should I do next? I needed to learn more about OJAN.

  I needed to understand the Commander—the one whose name I still didn’t know. It felt as though he were hiding it from me.

  From what I gathered, I was part of his harem—or so they said. Though I refuse to accept that role, at least I’m enjoying their food and dresses.

  Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. I felt it before I heard it—it was him. I turned to face him.

  He appeared different today; his face was flushed, as if he had just come from a fight. He looked exhausted, but there was something else—a hint of vulnerability.

  He resembled a child in need of comfort, though he didn't seem to realize it.

  I could see the weariness in his aura, the way his shoulders sagged, and the tiredness lingering in his eyes.

  It felt like looking at a boy forced to grow up too quickly.

  At first, I didn’t say anything, but an overwhelming urge to reach out washed over me.

  As he silently approached, I almost tripped, but he caught me before I could fall.

  “You can’t keep doing this,” he said softly, his voice a whisper as if he was trying to hide his tiredness. “You’re going to fall one day.”

  His touch was gentle and reassuring. In that moment, I felt something shift—he wasn’t dangerous. In fact, he felt harmless.

  Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his neck, offering him the comfort I sensed he needed. To my surprise, it felt instinctive.

  “Sleep next to me,” I said, the words escaping my lips before I could censor them.

  It felt safe. There was no predator in his eyes, no threatening aura.

  Oddly, since he lost his dark hair, he seemed different—less dangerous, almost like a lost child.

  I slid out from his lap and extended my hand to him, he gave me his hand—it was rough, big , and warm.

  I held it and guided him to the side next to me, gently helping him settle in and covering him with blankets.

  As I took his hand, I felt the tension begin to ease between us.

  Without thinking, I started to sing a lullaby, one my mother used to sing to me as a child.

  As the familiar melody filled the air, I could sense him drifting into a peaceful sleep.

  I didn’t know his past, but it seemed he had endured a great deal.

  I wondered what was happening to me. He was supposed to be my captor, his prisoner, and I should have been scared.

  But I wasn’t. In an unexpected way, he seemed to be the real prisoner—bound by his past and the uncertain future that awaited him.

  I couldn’t help but wonder: what did the future hold for us?