her resolve

Cior teleported to her home, the rain pouring heavily around her. She stood silently in the garden, her head bowed, the water soaking her to the bone. She made no attempt to move, to shield herself, or even to speak. She just stood there, as though the weight of the storm mirrored the turmoil within her.

Kieran, noticing her presence from inside, rushed out into the garden. His tone was sharp, but concern laced his words. "Are you insane? Why are you standing out here in this heavy rain?"

Cior didn't flinch. Her voice, usually so full of fire and mischief, was soft and broken. "It's better to die than live, Father, isn't it?"

Kieran froze for a moment, his heart sinking. He approached her carefully, lifting her into his arms despite her protests. "Come back to your senses," he said firmly, carrying her inside. He set her down in front of the fireplace, the warmth beginning to chase away the chill from her trembling body.

He crouched down beside her, his tone gentler now. "What happened?"

Cior sat still, staring at the flames with a vacant expression. After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Father… when we first met, you told me you knew who was behind it all. What happened?"

Kieran's face darkened slightly, but he didn't look away from her. "Yes, I knew."

Her head snapped toward him, her lifeless eyes filled with pain. "Then why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me get attached? Why?"

Kieran exhaled deeply, his usual carefree demeanor absent. "I don't have an answer," he admitted. "I didn't know you would become so entangled with them."

Tears began streaming down her face, her voice cracking as she continued. "But I trusted them. I loved them. And now… now everything feels devastating." She clutched her chest as though trying to steady her breaking heart. "I promised myself I'd take revenge. But now I can't even think straight. Who am I supposed to take revenge on? My best friends' parents? Or… do I hurt my friends?"

Her tears fell faster, her sobs racking her small frame as she broke down completely. "What am I supposed to do, Father? Tell me, please… because I don't know anymore."

Kieran's heart clenched at the sight of his usually vibrant daughter reduced to this fragile, heartbroken state. He pulled her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair gently. "I don't have all the answers, sweetheart," he murmured, his own voice heavy with emotion. "But you don't have to face this alone. You hear me? You don't."

Cior buried her face in his shoulder, her sobs muffled but unrelenting. The storm outside raged on, but inside, Kieran held her close, silently vowing to protect her from any more pain, even if it meant confronting the darkest corners of his own past.

The next morning, Cior woke up, the faint light of dawn creeping through her curtains. Her body felt heavy, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her shoulders. Her mind replayed the events of the previous night—the tears, the revelations, the crushing betrayal.

Her heart ached, but it also burned with anger. A sharp, raw fury churned within her, clawing at her chest. She sat up slowly, staring blankly at the floor. Her fists clenched tightly, and she felt the overwhelming urge to punch something, anything, hard enough to make it hurt.

For a moment, despair washed over her. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the end of the road. Her shoulders slumped under the weight of her doubts, and she felt the sting of hopelessness.

But then she remembered.

She remembered the countless faces of those who had suffered—the innocent lives stolen, the children who never had a chance, the broken families left behind. And she remembered her promise, the vow she had made to herself over and over for the last ten years.

Cior stood, her legs unsteady but her resolve strengthening. No. This isn't the end.

Her hands trembled, but she steadied them, her fingers curling into fists again. She had promised herself revenge—not just for her own pain but for all the victims who had been sacrificed for power, for greed, for a warped sense of justice.

She walked to the window, looking out at the rain-soaked garden, the storm now reduced to a gentle drizzle. The world seemed calm, but she knew the fight within her was just beginning.

"I will not stop," she whispered, her voice firm and resolute. "Not until I've made them pay for what they've done."

With that, she turned away, her eyes sharp and determined. She had cried her tears, felt the depths of her despair, but now was the time to act. She would not be broken. Not now, not ever.

Cior marched to her father's study, her steps heavy yet determined. Kieran was seated in his chair, his usual carefree demeanor gone as he noticed the fire in her eyes. She stood before him, her voice unwavering despite the storm raging within her.

"Father, I need to talk to you," she began.

Kieran gestured for her to sit, but she shook her head, remaining standing. "I've thought everything through. I know what I have to do. And I need your help to make it happen."

He studied her for a moment, his sharp gaze softening slightly. "Tell me everything," he said.

Cior explained her plan in detail, her words deliberate and steady. She laid out every step she had carefully crafted, every risk she had calculated. Her voice was a mix of pain and determination, a reflection of the inner turmoil she was forcing herself to conquer.

When she finished, Kieran leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure?" he asked after a long pause. His voice was low, almost hesitant, a rare thing for him. "Do you really want to do this?"

Cior took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his. "Yes, Father," she replied firmly. "I really want to do it. I don't want to have any more regrets."

Her voice wavered slightly as she continued, but she didn't stop. "I know they are my friends, but sometimes justice requires much greater sacrifices. And I must do what I was planning to do. Even though it will hurt me in the end, and it will hurt them."

Kieran remained silent, his gaze locked onto her, his expression softening as he saw the conviction in her eyes.

"If I don't stop them—their parents—then the world won't change," she continued. "The people won't change. They'll still commit these unthinkable, inhuman acts. And I can't let that happen, Father. I won't."

Kieran sighed deeply, running a hand through his silver hair. "You've grown up into someone stronger than I ever imagined," he said, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. "But this path you've chosen... it won't be easy. It'll hurt more than you know."

"I'm ready," Cior said. "I've been ready for ten years. If I don't do this now, I'll never forgive myself."

Kieran stood, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Then I'll stand by you," he said softly. "Whatever you need, you have my support. Just... don't lose yourself in this fight, my troublemaker. Remember who you are, and why you're doing this."

Cior nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude and determination. "Thank you, Father," she said.

She turned to leave, her resolve unshaken. As she walked out of the study, Kieran watched her go, pride and worry mingling in his eyes. He knew the road ahead for his daughter would be perilous, but he also knew she was ready to face it. She had to be.