Emergence

The winter wind howls in the corners of the room. A fireplace, dimly lit in the darkness, engulfs the night, accompanied by echoes of screams from a woman in suffering.

"Hang on, milady. Be strong. Endure it," a voice urges.

The nurses and maids watch as their lady of the house screams in pain, enduring the process of creation.

"The baby is out! Help her, tend to her; the lady of the house," a man shouts in a hoarse voice.

Wearing a monocle and a trench coat, he exudes dominance, and everyone moves according to his will — no delays, no mishaps, just swift command and order.

"Quickly, provide her with the necessary help she needs right now," he commands.

The maids and nurses scramble to support the lady of the house, moving with meticulous speed to fulfill their duty.

The firewood burns, turning to charcoal as the fireplace roars, marking the birth of a young soul. The windows shake, and the wind howls once more. The fire burns, and people in the room scramble, but soon...

Silence descends upon the room.

It is a cold hour, cold but joyful. A baby with skin as white as snow, eyes shining like rubies, brings forth rejoicing and celebration. An event marked by people as a miracle or a disaster, but that's a story for another time.

Suddenly, a low growl accompanied by an earth-shaking quake disrupts the order within the room. Frightened faces embolden chaos and fear.

The room that had once been filled with joy by the birth of the young lord becomes engulfed in crimson light. The iridescent sparkle that once captivated turns to naught.

Inside the room, fear and confusion reigned. The traumatic event had left the world gripped with terror, and its echoes resurfaced among the people present. Their faces mirrored the unease that consumed them, a mix of fear and despair. Their minds are clouded with uncertainty. The events of catastrophic occurrence swirled within the room, intensifying their collective apprehension. Convinced that something catastrophic had befallen the world.

A surge of revolting events unfolds throughout the country, ravaging houses, states, and nations, considered a catastrophe.

Intricate textures of the walls, once adored for their beauty and elegance, become covered in red, slowly overtaking the attractive wallpaper.

A blot on the ground appears, from which an imperceptible being soon manifests itself. Rising until it reaches the height of a person, an amorphous shadow stands before me.

The shadow is as dark as night, and one can barely discern its shape. Its eyes show terror and fear, striking fear into those it gazes upon.

The shadow flickers and prances around as if celebrating an occasion.

Then, the shadow turned and spoke. However, the tormented voices of souls surround the room, masking its words with their screams. The pain and agony are felt as their voices pierce the ears of everyone.

The wandering spirits come to a halt, then begin to converge into one area. The shadow raises its dark, unformed hand, a smugness permeating the silent space within. It speaks in a low, distorted voice.

"What a wonderful occasion, don't you think so, William Stele?"

The amorphous being, black and shadowy, radiates an aura of unworldly beings and evil.

The fireplace cackles and the lights dim as the horrid encounter with this being denounces the joy that was once perceived.

Inside, a stalemate of emotions ensues, a stillness of motion.

Silence.

Utter silence. Nobody moves a muscle. The amorphous figure stands in place, and servants and maids halt, bound by fear and despair. Their faces reflect bewilderment, perplexed by the unfolding events.

Footsteps.

Heavy footsteps reverberate through the room, carrying dignity, bravery, integrity, and above all, heart.

The being that resides in this room, standing close to the amorphous shadow, exudes a wide presence that can be felt.

Wearing a monocle and a trench coat, a contortion of anger eludes his face, an amalgamation of hatred and anticipation. William thought it would be much later that he, who was banished, would return to his life.

The shackles he once placed upon his heart and soul, the promise to never unbind what lies beneath him, to protect and conquer, not just to live but to survive.

The world proves to be unpredictable, as it should always be.

*********************

Six Years Later

I flee, consumed by the urgency of my escape. Panic surges through my veins, the weight of my mistake bearing down on me like a crushing force.

I sprint as fast as my legs will carry me, darting left around the shadowy corner, my heart pounding in my chest.

The hallway looms ahead, a cavernous passage within the foreboding estate of Stele, shrouded in an aura of ancient grandiosity.

The corridor stretches out before me, its expanse seemingly endless. High ceilings adorned with intricate plasterwork whisper of forgotten secrets. Ornate chandeliers cast a feeble, flickering glow that dances with the encroaching darkness.

The walls, embellished with faded wallpaper, once vibrant with life, now hold faded remnants of floral motifs and intricate damask patterns. It is a haunting tapestry, a relic of a bygone era, adding a haunting depth to the surroundings.

"ENZOO, COME BACK HERE, YOU IDIOT! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

The bellow of my pursuer echoes through the desolate corridor, clawing at my sanity. Fear grips my soul as I race toward the sanctity of my room.

Along the way, I pass a gaudy altar, a forgotten monument to some mysterious purpose.

Neglected and forsaken, it stands as a foreboding reminder of secrets best left undisturbed, its true nature hidden in the depths of my ignorance.

Desperation fuels my movements as I reach out, straining my hand toward the salvation of the doorknob. But fate is unkind, mocking my futile hopes.

Before my fingertips can brush against the cold metal, a powerful force seizes hold of me. I am wrenched away from the sanctuary I sought, dragged mercilessly into the clutches of my captor.

I dangle helplessly, my feet barely grazing the floor, suspended in the oppressive grip of my tormentor. My eyes lock with the unyielding gaze of the one who holds me captive, his presence radiating an aura of sinister intent.

"Hello, Uncle Robert," I stammer, my voice laced with both trepidation and false joviality. "I see that we have lovely weather this morning, or should I say the day started off with a bang, right... hehe."

"Enough with the tricks," Uncle Robert's voice resonates with a chilling undertone. "Apologize for what you have done and tell me why, and why me specifically."

"I apologize Uncle," I whisper, the weight of guilt heavy upon me. "It was my mistake. I didn't know you were awake when I placed that small essence bomb."

Uncle Robert's face contorted with a mix of disappointment and frustration. "Enzo Stele, this kid really needs manners. It has been six years since you were born into this family, and I thought you'd have grown out of your reckless phase by now."

Uncle Robert's gaze softens momentarily, a fleeting glimmer of compassion in his eyes. "But alas, it seems you inherited more than just the Stele name."

He releases his grip, allowing me to slump to the floor. My legs tremble, and I scramble to regain my composure.

"Go to your room, Enzo," Uncle Robert commands, his voice a stern warning. "And don't come out until I say so. You are grounded."

I nod meekly, my heart heavy with guilt and the knowledge that I have disappointed him once again. As I retreat to my room, I can't help but wonder what lies ahead for me within the confines of Stele Estate.

It has been a long time since I have experience freedom, constrained and shackled.

I can run and walk when I can to where I desire, however, limited. The thought grips my heart, emotions that are subtle yet painful.

Helplessness ensured me to improve myself, but the thought has yet to be made to action.

The day when I was born marked the importance of the lineage of Stele, my father William left the household to get remedy for my mother who has yet to awaken from her deep slumber.

Thus, I was left with Uncle Robert that has acted on their behalf to exact punishment and lessons that allowed me to grow as a person and as a noble of Stele. The name of my family holds much more value than this life of mine could offer.

It is not the first time that I have been grounded before, many times I have been punished in the past due to some mishaps again and unfortunate actions. It's like playing in the hands of someone who knows all about you, but for the record Uncle Robert did.

Annoying than frightening,

Being grounded took a long time before I was given liberty to roam the halls of Shattershire.

Shattershire estate, owned by the family lineage of Stele, protected by those loyal and scions to the lineage of Stele. A massive stronghold that was delegated by the kingdom

It is heavily associated near the borders of the forest of Everthorn Woods. It is a forest that infinitely grows, branches and trees indefinitely extend which provides protection and home to those that dwell within the forest.

It starts off with little trees then gradually increases in size as you head deeper into the forest. Rumor was as deep as you can go in the sea of woods, lies woodlands planted since the dawn of history. But who knows.

As I gazed absentmindedly from the balcony outside my room, the wonders of nature and the tranquility of the estate captivated me.

I was beginning to believe that I would be in this predicament for a long duration as disappointment began to persuade me, felt trapped in my room until the door to my room opened with a resounding thud.

Uncle Robert stood in the doorway, his eyes shimmering with unwavering resolve, radiating an aura of enthusiasm. He appeared exhilarated and thrilled, akin to a predator who had cornered its prey for play. In the six years since my birth, I had never seen him emit this kind of atmosphere.