CHAPTER 24 :Trust Is a Thread

In the soft morning light that streamed through the palace windows, Persian sat across the breakfast table from his mother, the Queen. The fragrant aroma of freshly brewed tea and warm pastries filled the air, but a heavy silence hung between them.

Persian's mind was clouded with thoughts of the events from the previous night, particularly what he had done to Seraphina.

The Queen, her eyes filled with concern, gently asked, "My dear, you seem distant this morning. Is something troubling you?

And where is Seraphina? I haven't seen her yet."

Persian sat across from his mother, the Queen, carefully weaving a tale.

"Mother," he began, his voice steady but laced with a touch of sadness, "Seraphina confided in me yesterday. Her sister, she's pregnant, you see, and last night she received word that the baby might be coming soon. Seraphina was so worried; she rushed back home to be with her family.

She apologises for not being able to tell you before she left."

The Queen's eyes lit up with joy at the prospect of a new addition to Seraphina's family. "Oh, how wonderful! A little one on the way. We must send our best wishes and support. I should call her family immediately, offer our assistance," she exclaimed, reaching for her communicator.

Persian hesitated, gently placing his hand on his mother's. "Mother, please, I understand your excitement, but there's so much pressure on them right now. Seraphina said they would appreciate our support, but maybe it's best if we wait until after the baby is born. That way, we can celebrate the good news together when the time is right."

The Queen paused, her enthusiasm tempered by her son's words. She looked into his eyes, sensing there was more to the story than met the eye. "You're right, my dear. We don't want to overwhelm them during such a crucial time. Let us wait and send our congratulations when they're ready."

Persian managed a weak smile, grateful for his mother's understanding, yet burdened by the weight of his lie. Deep down, he knew he needed to face the truth and make amends with Seraphina. But for now, he had bought them some time, allowing him to figure out how to approach the shadows and know what they are after.

Amon came walking towards the dining room to see the queen.

Persian's curiosity got the better of him as he noticed Amon walking out of his chambers wearing plain clothes, a rare sight considering his usual guard duty attire. "Amon, you're not on duty today?" Persian inquired, his eyebrows furrowing with genuine concern.

Amon, usually reserved, looked at Persian and offered a small but genuine smile. "No, not today," he replied, his voice softening. "I spoke to the Queen yesterday about my sick mother. She's not been well, and I need to be with her. The Queen was kind enough to understand my situation and granted me some time off to look after her."

Persian nodded, a mix of empathy and admiration in his eyes. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother, Amon. If there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

Amon's smile widened appreciatively. "Thank you, Persian. Your concern means a lot. I'll manage, but I appreciate the offer."

The Queen, who , approached them with a warm smile. "Amon, please take all the time you need. Family comes first. If there's anything you require or if your mother needs assistance, don't hesitate to let us know. We're here to support you."

Amon nodded gratefully, his eyes reflecting his gratitude. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I truly appreciate your understanding and kindness."

As the sun enveloped the palace in a blanket of brightness , Persian excused himself from the dining table with the Queen, his eyes locked on Amon, who appeared a bit anxious and tipsy. Feeling an urgent need to be alone with him, Persian gently took Amon's hand and led him out to the tranquil garden. The air was cool and crisp, the sunlight casting a glow on their faces.

At the entrance of the garden, Persian halted, his grip on Amon's hand firm but tender. He gazed deeply into Amon's eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of affection and longing. "Amon," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion, "I want you to know how much you mean to me. As I stand here with you, I realize how deeply I'm going to miss you. You're not just my friend; you're my confidant, my partner in every sense of the word."

Amon looked back at him, his eyes clouded with a mix of confusion and vulnerability.

Persian continued, his words flowing with sincerity, "While you're there, promise me one thing. Don't look at anyone else. You're not just anyone to me, Amon. You're my boyfriend, the person I love with all my heart. I don't want anyone else to occupy your thoughts, your attention, or your heart. I want you to be mine, just as I am yours."

Amon's lips parted, his breath catching in his throat. He felt a rush of emotions, the weight of Persian's words sinking deep into his heart. In that moment, he realized the depth of Persian's feelings, and his own heart responded in kind.

"I promise," Amon whispered, his voice barely audible, but laced with determination. "I'll be yours, and yours alone. No one else will occupy my thoughts or my heart, Persian. I love you too."

Persian's eyes, filled with longing, met Amon's as their faces drew closer. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, suspended in the delicate space between friendship and something more. Persian's heart raced with anticipation, his lips almost touching Amon's, when suddenly, Amon gently pushed him away.

"I... I need to go," Amon stammered, his voice soft yet firm, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions.

Persian, though disappointed, nodded understandingly. He could sense the weight of Amon's thoughts, his mother's concerns occupying his mind. With a resigned smile, Persian took a step back, giving Amon the space he needed.

"I understand," Persian said, his tone gentle. "Take your time, Amon. Your mother needs you now. Get home safely."

Amon's expression softened, appreciating Persian's understanding. "Thank you, Persian," he said, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I'll talk to you soon, I promise."

As Amon reached the palace gates, his steps heavy with the weight of leaving, he couldn't ignore the memories that flooded his mind, memories of laughter shared with Persian, of stolen glances and whispered secrets. The love he felt for Persian battled with his sense of duty, tearing at his heart.

Persian, seated by the fountain, watched Amon with longing in his eyes, knowing that every step took him farther away. But just as Amon reached the carriage, something stirred within him. The realization of his true feelings for Persian overwhelmed him.

"he loved his home, his people, his best friend and his family. He really did but....he really loved persian too"

In that moment, he couldn't deny the love that had blossomed between them.

Without a second thought, Amon dropped his luggage and turned, running back toward Persian. Their eyes met, and in the silence that hung between them, Amon uttered the words he had kept hidden for so long, "I love you," his voice soft yet filled with conviction. He closed the distance between them, capturing Persian's lips in a tender kiss, a silent promise of the love that bound them, defying the barriers that had kept them apart.

For that brief moment, the world ceased to exist around them. It was just Amon and Persian, two souls entwined in a love that defied expectations, a love that had the power to conquer any obstacle. And in that stolen kiss, they found solace, knowing that their hearts had spoken the truth, and that no distance could sever the bond they shared.

The Queen and Elyss were on the balcony of the palace....

The Queen smiled "told you, now pay up"

Elyss groaned "I just thought they were good friends" as she removed money from her pocket to give to the Queen.

Persian waved Amon till his carriage was out of sight....

Persian sighed "now, let's deal with those shadows"

In the Royal library

As Persian's frustration grew, he found himself surrounded by a chaotic mess of opened books, their pages filled with ancient texts and cryptic symbols.

Each page he turned, every word he read, seemed to elude the answers he sought about the shadows that haunted him.

His fingers trembled with desperation as he attempted to organize the books back onto their shelves.

Just as he was about to place a particularly old and worn book back into its designated spot, a strange sensation washed over him.

The book seemed to resist being returned, as if it had a will of its own. With a sudden force, it slipped from his grasp and tumbled to the floor, landing with a heavy thud.

The book that fell was unlike the others. Its cover was a deep, obsidian black, and it seemed to absorb the very light around it.

Persian stared at it, his curiosity piqued despite the eerie aura it emitted. He cautiously picked up the book, noticing that it was damp, as if ink had freshly spilled from its pages.

With trembling fingers, Persian carefully blew off the dust that had settled on the ancient book. He hesitated for a moment, a mixture of fear and curiosity swirling within him.

He read "THE BOOK OF YORE"

Persian's eyes widened in recognition as he stared at the dripping black book now resting in his hands. The sight of the ink-drenched cover sent shivers down his spine, reminding him of what the sorcerer in the cell had spoken of.

The sorcerer's warning echoed in his mind, but his desperation for answers drove him forward.

Carefully, he inspected the Book of Yore, feeling the cool, ancient leather beneath his fingertips. He took a deep breath, his thoughts a tumultuous sea of uncertainty.

The sorcerer's words echoed in his ears, cautioning him against the perilous path he was contemplating.

Yet, the thirst for knowledge, the desire to understand and control the shadows, gnawed at him.

His mind flickered back to the encounters with the shadows—their ominous presence, their relentless pursuit.

Persian paced the room, his thoughts swirling like a tempest in his mind. The Book of Yore lay on the table, its ominous aura palpable even from a distance. He knew he hungered for answers, craved the knowledge that could protect his kingdom, yet the warnings echoed in his thoughts, a cacophony of caution.

"Answers, yes, but at what cost?" he murmured to himself. "The shadows are a peril, a force beyond our understanding. But this book, this artifact of ancient power, it's a double-edged sword. I can only imagine its potential, sense the dark secrets it holds. it can't be trusted, not at all."

He clenched his fists, wrestling with his inner turmoil. "I won't be the one to unleash another evil upon our land. The shadows are threat enough. I must protect our people, not endanger them further."

Persian walked back to the table, his eyes fixed on the book. "I'll lock it away, keep it hidden where no one, not even I, can access its contents. There's a responsibility that comes with this knowledge, a responsibility to wield it wisely or not at all."

With a determined breath, he took the Book of Yore. "This ends here. I'll find another way, a safer way. There must be other sources of wisdom, other ancient texts that can guide me without plunging me into darkness."

This decision brought a measure of peace, a flicker of hope amidst the encroaching shadows. "I'll seek counsel from the royal doctor, explore the library for texts of light and knowledge. There's a solution out there, one that doesn't involve risking everything we hold dear."

As Persian prepared to leave the royal library with the Book of Yore in his grasp, an ominous presence filled the room. His senses tingled with danger, and instinctively, he summoned light into his hands, casting a radiant glow across the chamber. The shadows quivered in response, revealing an enigmatic figure cloaked in darkness.

Persian, his grip tightening around the Book of Yore, cautiously took a seat across from the shadow. The room seemed to darken further in the presence of this enigmatic being, but Persian's resolve flickered like a steady flame.

"What do you want?" Persian demanded, his voice firm despite the tremor in his heart. "Why have you come here? Speak your purpose."

The shadow leaned back, its form flickering like smoke. "I've come to offer you a deal, young prince," it hissed, its voice a whisper that sent shivers down Persian's spine. "I know what you seek, the power you desire. The Book of Yore holds the key to mastering the shadows, but its price is steep. I can give you the knowledge without the risk."

Persian's eyes narrowed, suspicion etched on his face. "Why would you help me? What do you gain from this?"

The shadow grinned, a twisted smile that sent chills through Persian's veins. "Your ambition intrigues me. I have my reasons, but rest assured, they align with your desire to protect your kingdom. I have no interest in its destruction, not yet, at least."

Persian hesitated, weighing his options. The allure of gaining the Book of Yore's knowledge without endangering his kingdom was tempting, yet he couldn't ignore the shadow's malevolent aura. "What's the catch?" he asked, his voice steady.

The shadow's laughter echoed in the room. "Ah, you're smarter than you appear, Prince Persian. The catch is simple: you owe me a favor. A favor I will collect when the time is right, and you won't be able to refuse."

Persian clenched his fists, torn between the potential power and the ominous bargain. "And if I refuse your offer?"

The shadow's form wavered, its eyes glinting with something akin to amusement. "Then, young prince, you shall face the shadows alone, armed with your bravery and ignorance. Choose wisely."

Persian stood tall, his resolve unyielding. "Light and darkness never cross paths, And i will never embrace the shadows.

I will find the knowledge I seek through the strength of my convictions and the support of my family. We are guided by the light, and that light will guide us to the answers we need. And together, we will bring you to the light"

The shadow hovered about unbothered by Persian's threats.

The shadow's laughter echoed chillingly in the room. "Your determination is commendable, young prince. But remember, even the brightest light can cast the darkest shadows."

The room fell into a tense silence as Persian stood his ground, his eyes filled with determination. The shadows, in their amorphous form, seemed to ripple with amusement.

"You really believe your family can help and protect you?" the shadows hissed, their voice echoing eerily in the room. "Even those closest to you can betray you, young prince."

Persian clenched his fists, refusing to succumb to the shadows' taunts. "My family trusts me, and I trust them. We have faced challenges before, and we have always emerged stronger. I won't let your darkness tear us apart."

The shadow moved closer, its voice like a whispering breeze. "Love and trust are not always synonymous, young prince. Your family loves you, yes, but trust is a delicate thread that can easily fray. Secrets can erode even the strongest bonds.

I come as the monster I am, but humans, they wear promising forms, concealing the darkness within."

Persian's mind raced, his thoughts clouded with uncertainty. Could there be truths hidden from him? He shook his head, trying to dispel the doubts. "I won't let your words poison me"

"My words spit not poison but truth. And deep down my prince, you know I'm right...you just don't want to face the truth" said the shadows

The room crackled with tension as Persian's anger clashed against the shadows' unsettling calm. With a determined glare, he summoned balls of light, launching them at the shadows. But, like wisps of smoke, the shadows effortlessly dodged his attacks.

"They trust me!" Persian's voice wavered, a mix of frustration and desperation.

The shadows remained unmoved. "Oh really, let's test that shall we?

Have they told you about the war, the impending storm that will shatter the peace you hold dear?" Their words hung in the air, heavy with ominous prophecy.

Persian's light flickered and died, leaving the room in darkness. "What war?" he whispered, his voice barely audible, as a chilling realization crept over him.

Persian's heart raced with fear and confusion as the shadow's words hung in the air. "What war?" he repeated, his voice stronger this time, echoing through the royal library.

The remaining shadow seemed to smirk in the darkness. "It is best if you get the answers from them," it replied cryptically, its voice fading into an eerie whisper. "Think about my offer. I'll be back for my answer."

And just like that, the shadow vanished, leaving Persian standing alone in the chilling silence. His mind buzzed with questions, and a deep sense of foreboding settled over him. The unknown war, the shadows' offer—it all weighed heavily on his shoulders.

####

The king and queen came back from a stroll in the fields. When they entered, they were met with a surreal sight—the entire palace was afloat, objects hanging mid-air, defying gravity.

A guard, clearly under a spell, directed them to the throne room"he awaits your presence"

King kastron sensed dangerously great magic..

The atmosphere in the throne room was thick with tension as they entered to find a figure shrouded in complete darkness. The figure slowly raised his head, revealing his face, and to their shock, it was Persian. His expression was grave, his eyes glowing with an eerie dark blue light.

His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke, "So when were you going to tell me about the war?"

The king and queen exchanged a bewildered glance before the king stepped forward, his voice steady despite the turmoil in the room. "What do you mean, Persian? What war are you talking about?"

Persian shouted making the palace shake on its foundation "don't you dare lie to me!!!"