The Wicked

Gazing at himself in the mirror, Nathaniel Chevalier decided that he was the most handsome being on the face of the earth. With his long, silky purple hair and majestic amber eyes, he had seen his fill of girls blindly chasing after him, hoping for a shred of attention. And now, the only girl he wanted would not spare him a single loving glance.

"Cleo..." Nathan sighed, caressing his face as he stared at himself in the mirror. "I will make you mine, no matter what it takes."

Really, Nathan had originally thought that Cleo was just like all the other girls, clinging to him because he was pretty and popular. But he realized too late that she was not simply disposable like the others. She had opinions, even if she was sometimes too shy to express them, and she did not look up to Nathan like he was this holy being incapable of making mistakes. She did not get annoyed at him for a single slip up, but instead left him because she was done with his personality and attitude.

But then Nathan started to like her. He relished in the feeling of the hunt, chasing after Cleo like a hunting dog would its prey, hoping to one day capture her and possess her.

And yet, the world was a cruel place. Just as things were looking up for him, Nathan's father returned home, drunk and angry, looking for trouble. Using a glass bottle, he had bashed his wife to death, glass shards peppering her graying hair as she lay, unmoving, on the bloodstained floor. Nathan ran, but he did not get far. His father was furious, and when he caught his son, he hit him to death.

That was how Nathan had ended up in this world. He wondered if his father was in prison.

From the moment he had entered the world of A Song of Sorrow, he had resolved to make each and every person love him so that nobody could ever hurt him again.

A knock on the door pulled Nathan out of his thoughts. The door creaked open, and a boy a few years younger than him peeked inside.

Nathan did not recognize him. But at the same time, this boy felt so familiar. Scouring his mind, Nathan tried to find any memories that the original character had about this boy. Deep violet hair, amethyst eyes, and a slim, small build...where had he seen this before? Suddenly, a memory surfaced, blurry and old. A frail boy kneeling next to a dead tree, hand on it's roots, power flowing from his hand into the wood, slowly revitalizing the withered plant. Then, slowly, a name rose to the top of Nathan's mind.

"Achlys?"

"Big bro!" Achlys said, running over to give Nathan a hug. "I've missed you so much! How's the academy been?"

Before he could reply, the door to Nathan's room was opened once more, and an older man walked in, long, faded white hair woven into a loose braid that rested on his shoulder. Perhaps one day a long time ago, his hair may have been purple, but it was apparent that the color had faded from both his hair and face with time. A woman appeared next to him, steps as silent as a ghosts. Her eyes were blank and cloudy, iris and pupil nowhere in sight. When she looked up, Nathan was filled with a chill that crept up his spine and choked him with an icy touch. Her skin was deathly pale, a stark contrast to her dark lips, emotionless and unmoving. When she spoke, her voice was monotonous and bland.

"Hello, Nathan." She held his gaze, looking deep into his eyes and cocking her head to one side, twitching unnaturally in the process.

Compared to the woman, the man was much warmer. "Hello, son. I believe you've been studying hard here? After all, it's such an honor to be selected to enter the Eldritch Academy of Magic?"

You just wanted to get rid of me, a voice shouted inside of Nathan's consciousness. I'm just the useless son, aren't I?

Taken aback by the intense reaction coming from his body, Nathan simply smiled and nodded. He assumed that the voice in his mind had been that of the original character. It was probably just a lingering sliver of consciousness, engraved with the original person's strongest emotions. And in Nathan's case, hatred for his father.

"Achlys, why don't you go look around?" the man offered, ushering his son off. "Your brother and I have something to discuss."

Innocent and naive, the young boy lit up. He ran off, excited to explore the school.

"Now let's talk about you." Nathan's father looked at him with an unnatural glow in his eyes.

And something inside of him told him that this was not going to be good.

***

Cleo was tending to the roses in the garden with Fiona. They chatted as they cut away dead leaves and pulled weeds. Laughing and talking, they did not notice someone watching them from behind the big magnolia tree. Hearing a twig snap, Cleo looked up and scanned the garden. She did not see anyone, but she had been so sure. She had felt someone's presence for a split second, but that feeling had vanished as quick as it came.

Closing her eyes and focusing on her surroundings, Cleo let her magic search the garden for her. Behind bushes and around buildings. Under pavilions and over rooftops. Her mind extended into the magical world, stretching out its energy tendrils, looking for-

"Found you."

Cleo sent a powerful blast of mental energy towards the big magnolia tree behind her. She heard a pained scream and knew that she had been right.

"Nice cloaking spell," she said nonchalantly, continuing her work on an annoying weed that would not detach itself from the earth.

"Thanks!" A boy popped out from behind the tree. "I learned it from my dad. I'm Achlys. What's your name?"

Looking up from her work, Fiona took in the situation, glanced around awkwardly, and decided that she should probably leave. She slipped away soundlessly as Cleo turned to address this new visitor.

"Cleodora Sinclair. But you can just call me Cleo."

"That's a really pretty name! You're really talented! I didn't think you would notice me there." Achlys bit his lip sheepishly.

Cleo smiled. "I almost didn't."

"Really? Yes! I knew I was getting good at it!"

"Pfft! You still have a long way to go before you try to sneak up on me again."

"Oh come on! I was just about to congratulate myself!"

"That reminds me. Are you a student here?"

"Nope! I'm homeschooled by my dad. Are you?"

Cleo nodded. "Is your dad really impressive?"

"Yeah! He's the second immortal in the entire empire! Have you heard of him?"

"You're Nathan's brother," Cleo mumbled, looking away.

"Yeah. Are you guys friends?" Achlys asked, completely unaware of the changing mood.

"You could say that..."

"Then will you be my friend too?" Achlys looked at Cleo expectantly, like a puppy waiting for a treat.

"Of course."

Suddenly, a chill crept up Cleo's spine. She froze, unable to speak or move. A cold and impassive voice resounded through the garden.

"Achlys, my son. Come to me."

"That's my mom," he said, looking up and moving, unaffected by the chill. "I guess I have to go now."

Cleo forced herself to nod, despite the pressure of magic looming over her.

"Bye! Hope I see you again!" Achlys waved as he ran off down the garden path.

A few moments later, the heavy feeling of unease faded from Cleo's bones and she finally breathed a sigh of relief. If she had been under that pressure for any longer, her insides might had crumbled.

"So I guess that's the power of the Grand Duchess."

The unfeeling, unliving wife of Grand Duke Cassius Chevalier, the second immortal of the empire. Resurrection was supposed to be impossible, but despite all that, Cassius had attempted it, and succeeded to some extent. His wife was back, though she was only a husk of what she was before, unable to utilize the full power of her living self.

Cleo shuddered at the thought of it. If she was so powerful now, what had she been like when she was alive?