The chamber was unnaturally quiet. Not peaceful. Not calm. It was the kind of silence that made every breath sound too loud. Every heartbeat too clear.
The black book rested on the stone table between them. It did not look powerful. It did not shine. It did not glow. Yet it felt heavier than everything around it.
Its cover was darker than the shadows in the corners of the room. Even the pale light of the oil lamps seemed to bend away from it, as if afraid to touch its surface. Time felt slower near it.
Aevrin stood closest. He did not know why he had stopped first. He had not planned to. His body had simply refused to move forward. Something inside him had tightened. A warning. A pull. A whisper without sound. His fingers hovered above the cover. They trembled slightly. Not from fear.
From anticipation. From something he could not name.
What if this changes everything?
The thought flickered through his mind. He pushed it away. And touched the book. Nothing happened. No light. No sound. No movement. Just the cold surface beneath his skin.
Kael stepped closer. He placed his hand beside Aevrin's. The book felt warm. Not physically. Emotionally. Like holding something alive.
Elior hesitated. His breath caught in his throat. Then he reached out too.
Three hands. Three lives. Three uncertain futures. Resting on one unknown object.
Slowly—
Almost reverently—
They opened it. The cover lifted.
And—
Light exploded. It was not gentle. It was not beautiful. It was sudden. Violent. Overwhelming. White light flooded the chamber. It swallowed the walls. The ceiling. The floor. It rushed into their eyes. Into their minds. Into their memories.
Elior cried out. Aevrin stumbled. Kael froze completely.
For a moment—
There was no temple. No mountain. No world. Only light.
And then—
It vanished. Like it had never existed. Darkness rushed back. Silence followed. Heavy. Oppressive. Almost painful. The air felt different. Colder. Thicker. As if something unseen now shared the room with them. Their breathing was uneven. Their hearts pounded. Slowly, they looked down.
The book lay open. The pages were visible.
Yet—
Not visible. A strange blur hovered over them. Like thin mist. Like distant memory. Like forgotten dreams.
No matter how hard they focused—
They could not see clearly. It was as if the book was hiding itself. Refusing to be understood.
Aevrin leaned closer. His eyes strained. Nothing. Elior blinked rapidly. Rubbed his eyes. Still nothing.
Kael took the book. The moment he held it, a faint ache spread through his chest. Not pain. Recognition. Like meeting someone you had once loved but forgotten. He turned a page. Slowly. Carefully. The paper made no sound. Blank. He turned another. Still blank. Another. Nothing.
He continued.Page after page. The silence deepened. Each turn felt heavier. Like closing doors behind him.
Why does this emptiness feel so full?
The thought unsettled him. He reached the middle. Then beyond. Near the end. Still nothing. His grip tightened. His breathing slowed. His thoughts began to blur. He turned the final page. Blank. No words. No marks. No meaning.He stared. The room faded. The sounds disappeared. The world loosened its hold.
And then—
Everything stopped.
Darkness wrapped around him. Soft. Endless. Silent. There was no fear. No comfort. Only absence.Am I asleep? No. It felt too sharp. Too real.
Then—
Cold stone formed beneath his feet. Rough. Ancient. Worn by centuries. Moonlight filtered through shattered arches. Dust drifted in the air. Slow. Gentle. Like falling memories. The chamber stood before him. The same. Yet different. Older. Broken. Abandoned.
Why do I know this place?
The thought echoed. A presence stirred. From shadow. From silence. From forgotten time. A figure stepped forward. Tall. Cloaked. Its edges blurred like smoke. No face. No features. Only darkness shaped like a person. Kael's breath caught.
That's… me. Not the me he knew. The me he had been. The me he had lost. The shadow stood where Kael stood. Mirroring him. Reflecting him. Like a distorted memory. It turned. Walked. Slow. Deliberate. Kael hesitated. Every instinct warned him. Do not follow. But he did. Because something stronger pulled him. Memory. Regret. Destiny.
They walked through ruins. Past broken pillars. Past faded carvings. Symbols of forgotten faith. Whispers of lost prayers. They stopped. Before a cracked pedestal. Empty. Waiting. This is where it began.
The shadow placed the book there. Opened it. Blank. Still blank. A hollow ache spread through Kael's chest. So even then… nothing? The shadow reached into its cloak. Pulled out a small jar. Glass. Delicate. Inside shimmered clear liquid. Not water. Not light. Something between. It glowed softly. As if tiny memories floated inside. The shadow tilted it. Drops fell. They touched the page.
Golden light bloomed. Letters formed. Sacred Verses. Ancient mystic chants. They twisted. Shifted. Rearranged. Alive. Kael stared. Wonder. Fear. Recognition. All mixed. I should be scared. Why am I not?
The shadow reached again. Another jar. Fire. Golden-red flames swirled inside. Restless. Hungry. Powerful. It opened it. Released the fire. The flames flowed gently. They kissed the page. Did not burn. Did not destroy. They transformed. The letters rearranged. Unlocked. Meaning emerged.
Understanding flooded Kael's mind. Names. Oaths. Broken promises. Forgotten sins. Hidden truths. He leaned forward. Heart racing.
Ready to read—
"Kael!"
"Kael!"
The voice tore through the vision. Sharp. Sudden. Too real. The golden letters shattered. The flames vanished. The shadow dissolved into mist. Darkness rushed back.
Then—
Stone. Lamp light. Cold air. Breathing. Kael gasped softly. His fingers loosened. The book slipped slightly in his hands. He blinked. Once. Twice. The chamber returned. Elior stood in front of him. Too close. Too worried. His brows were drawn together. His eyes searched Kael's face desperately.
"Kael…?" he whispered. "Why didn't you answer me?"
Aevrin stood beside him. Arms crossed. Expression calm. But his jaw was tight. Something was wrong.
Kael could feel it. His heart still raced. The echoes of the vision lingered behind his eyes. The shadow. The fire. The letters. They refused to fade.
"I… I was calling you," Elior continued softly."You weren't moving. You weren't blinking. I thought…"
He stopped. Didn't finish. Didn't need to. Kael inhaled slowly. Forced himself to focus. On the room. On their faces. On the present.
"I'm okay," he said gently.
His voice sounded distant. Even to himself.
"I was just… thinking."
Elior didn't look convinced.
"Thinking?" he repeated. "You looked like you weren't here at all."
Kael glanced at the book. Its pages were still blank. Silent. Innocent. As if nothing had happened. As if it had never shown him anything.
"Maybe," Kael added quietly,"I was wondering why it's empty. Why there's nothing inside."
It was half-truth. The safest kind. He did not mention the shadow. He did not mention the fire. Some things were not meant to be shared. Not yet.
Aevrin shifted. He studied Kael for a moment. Long. Carefully. Then he spoke.
"Maybe it really has nothing," he said.
His tone was casual. But his eyes were sharp.
Or maybe it hides things.
"Or maybe," he continued,"it only opens when someone knows how."
Elior nodded slowly.
"Like… like it needs a key?"
"Or a sacrifice," Aevrin muttered.
Elior frowned.
"Don't say it like that…"
Kael listened. Silent. Their voices felt far away. His thoughts returned to the jars. The water. The fire. The ritual. It needs something. I'm sure of it. But what?
Before he could speak—
Knock. Three soft taps. They froze. The sound echoed unnaturally loud.
"Come in," Aevrin called.
The door opened. A young monk bowed respectfully.
"The master requests you to join for dinner," he said."You must be tired."
Only then did Kael realize—
His stomach hurt. Hollow. Empty. They hadn't eaten since morning. They had forgotten. Completely.
Elior laughed weakly.
"I… I think I might faint if I don't eat soon."
Aevrin smirked.
"Finally, something normal today."
They placed the book back carefully. Like returning a sleeping creature to its nest. And followed the monk.
"..."
Warm light welcomed them. Lanterns hung from wooden beams. Soft shadows danced on the walls. The smell of food filled the air. Rice. Herbs. Steamed vegetables. Soup. Simple. Comforting. They sat. Silence lingered at first.
Then slowly—
Plates filled. Hands moved. Spoons clinked. Life returned. Elior took the first bite. His eyes widened.
"This is so good…"
Kael smiled faintly. Aevrin nodded in agreement.
For a while, they just ate. Letting exhaustion sink in. Letting tension loosen. Outside, wind whispered through trees. The mountain rested.
Elior leaned back. Satisfied.
"Today was… crazy," he said softly.
Kael glanced at him.
"How so?"
Elior's eyes sparkled.
"The climb. The mist. The height…I've never been anywhere like this before."
He laughed quietly.
"I felt… free."
The word lingered.
Free.
"I used to watch mountains from my window," Elior continued."They always looked unreal. Like paintings."
He paused. His smile dimmed slightly.
"I never thought I'd stand on one."
Kael listened carefully. Aevrin remained silent.
Elior lowered his gaze.
"When I was little… I used to beg my parents."
His voice softened.
"'Please take me out.''Just once.''Anywhere.'"
He swallowed.
"They were always busy."
Meetings. Guests. Politics. Power. Status.
"They said it wasn't safe."
Or appropriate.
Or necessary.
"If I went outside," he went on,"five servants followed me."
Always watching. Always controlling. I couldn't run. Couldn't fall. Couldn't get dirty. Couldn't be normal
"I never played with other kids," Elior whispered."They said… they weren't suitable."
So he stayed alone. Big rooms. Empty halls. Cold walls. Books. Silence.
"I ate alone. Studied alone. Slept alone."
He smiled sadly.
"I grew up in a mansion…But it felt like a cage."
Kael's chest tightened. He hadn't known. Not like this.
Aevrin looked away. Jaw clenched.
"I used to imagine," Elior continued,"that one day… I'd just run."
No guards. No rules. No expectations.
"Today felt like that dream."
He looked at them. Eyes shining.
"Walking with you… searching… getting lost…It was the best day I've had in years."
Silence followed. Not awkward. Not empty. Full. Heavy. Meaningful.
Kael finally spoke.
"Then… we'll make more days like this."
Elior smiled. Real. Warm.
Aevrin added quietly,"And next time, we'll get lost on purpose."
They laughed softly.
Outside, the mountain listened.
And somewhere—
In darkness—
The black book waited.
"..."
After dinner, the monk led them down a narrow hallway. Soft lamps glowed along the walls. The stone floor was cool beneath their feet.
"This side," he said gently. He opened a wooden door. Inside, a small corridor revealed several rooms. Five. Maybe seven. Simple ones. Neat. Calm.
But at the far end—
Three rooms stood apart. Larger. Carved doors. Old symbols etched into the wood. They looked… different. Important. Aevrin noticed first. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Those," he said quietly.
"They're not ordinary."
Kael followed his gaze.
Elior tilted his head.
"Should we…?"
Curiosity answered for them. Without speaking, they each chose one. Separate. Silent. As if something unseen guided them.
"..."
Elior's room was small. A single bed. A low table. A window facing the mountains. Moonlight spilled inside like silver water. He sat on the bed. Exhaled. Long. Deep. For the first time in years… No guards. No locked doors. No shadows watching him.
Just— Silence. Freedom. He lay down. Pulled the blanket close. A soft smile curved his lips. Today… was beautiful. He closed his eyes. And fell asleep almost instantly. Dreaming of wind. Of laughter. Of open roads.
"..."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Aevrin sank onto the edge of the bed. Hands folded loosely, head lowered. Silence pressed against him like stone. Elior's voice echoed in his mind:
"I was alone.""I never played with other kids.""It felt like a cage."
A faint curve touched Aevrin's lips—not guilt, not sorrow, but a cold, calculating edge. His fingers tightened slightly.
He had known this all along. He had seen it. He had watched. And now… he remembered.
"..."
The mansion swallowed all sound. Endless stone corridors, empty rooms. Footsteps echoed endlessly.
Elior wandered, tiny hands clutching a toy, searching for anything—anyone—to notice him.
Two children, the servant's son and daughter, approached. Smiles wide, hands outstretched.
"Come play with us!"
Elior hesitated, then ran. He laughed, screamed, shared sweets, hid behind curtains, fell, got dirty. For the first time, he forgot the rules, the lessons, the importance he was told he carried. He forgot Aevrin.
From the balcony, Aevrin watched. Motionless. Hands gripping the railing. His chest burned. Why is he happy without me?
The thought was quiet, almost imperceptible, but it burned inside him—a fire twisting with something new: need.
"..."
The next morning, Aevrin approached him.
"Stay with me today," he said softly.
Not a request. Not really. Elior's face lit up immediately.
"Okay!"
They played alone. No other children. No distractions. Aevrin guided every movement, every choice. Every glance, every laugh, every step—he measured, memorized, claimed.
By evening, the other children had faded from Elior's attention. Dependence shifted, slowly, perfectly, to Aevrin.
"..."
The next day, the servants' children returned. They tugged Elior's hands, pulled him into their games. Laughter echoed.
Aevrin's chest tightened. He did not intervene immediately. He only observed. His mind planned. Quiet. Precise.
This is mine. Only mine.
"..."
Later, Aevrin hurt himself lightly. Enough to make Elior notice. Enough to draw concern.
Elior rushed over, hands shaking. "Aevrin! Are you okay?!"
He held him. Cleaned the small wound. Stayed beside him. Attention shifted entirely. The others were forgotten. That night, they ate, read, slept side by side. Every shared moment became a silent claim. Possession cemented.
That night, after watching Elior laugh with the servants' children, Aevrin did not sleep. He lay awake on his bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the sound of Elior's laughter again and again. Why doesn't he laugh like that with me? The thought was small. Harmless. Or so it seemed.
He clenched his fists under the blanket. I was here first. I've always been here. He imagined Elior forgetting him. Running past him. Choosing others. The image made his chest ache sharply. No. He won't. He turned to the wall, breathing slowly, forcing the feeling down. I just don't want to lose him. That was what he told himself.
"..."
Before dawn, Aevrin stood in the quiet corridor. His personal servant, a tall, stern man who had served Aevrin since childhood, approached. He bowed.
"Master, I will handle this," he whispered.
Aevrin inclined his head once. That was all the permission needed.
Inside, the servants with their children sat nervously. Coins clinked softly as the personal servant placed a pouch on the table. Enough for years. Enough to ensure obedience.
The personal servant spoke clearly, with the authority of Aevrin's presence behind every word:
"You will take your children and send them to study in another town. Far away. Permanently. And you will tell Master Elior they are staying with relatives. You will not tell him the truth."
The parents' hands shook. They glanced at Aevrin, who stood silently nearby. One look from him was enough. Compliance was demanded, unspoken.
They accepted the coins. They nodded. Quietly prepared the children to leave. No one spoke. No one questioned.
By the time Elior awoke, the children were gone. No goodbyes, no explanations. Only the lie, faithfully delivered by the servants:
"They went to live with their grandparents to study."
Elior's disappointment was brief. Aevrin was there, present, calm, offering warmth and attention. Dependence secured. Ownership confirmed.
"..."
After the servants' children were sent away, Aevrin stood alone in the garden. The pouch of coins was still heavy in his hand. For a brief moment, he hesitated. Is this… wrong? The question surfaced unexpectedly. He imagined Elior's disappointed face if he ever knew the truth. His fingers tightened. No. This is protection. They would have taken him away from me. I'm keeping him safe. The doubt dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. He slipped the pouch away and walked back inside, his expression once again calm and unreadable.
"..."
Aevrin leaned back on the bed. The memory faded, but the feeling remained. Every calculated act, every silent order, every coin placed, had shaped Elior's world. It was invisible, yet complete.
Not love. Not guilt. Not care.
Possession.
He imagined Elior sleeping nearby. Unaware of how carefully his world had been guided, restricted, controlled.
"I didn't steal you," he whispered softly. "I shaped you. I guided you. You learned perfectly, without even knowing."
A faint curve touched his lips. Outside, the mountain slept. Inside, the cage was invisible—but it was complete.
—by Aurea;"Some cages are made of iron.Some are made of silence.Some are made of love that holds too tightly,and shadows that remember what we try to forget."