The morning sun rested its glow within the windows of the Western Tower. Inside, Consort Elias got ready for the day. He stood before the mirror, adjusting the silver sash around his waist. Staring at his reflection, something didn't sit right. His memory was jumbled up, and part of it was missing.
The pain in his belly was gone… well, not all. He could still feel it, but mildly, like it was grazing just beneath the surface. He still did not understand the sudden surge of vitality and unavailability of pain. He had once been very agile, but his days of beta were long gone. His body had long found comfort and grown used to his new title and surroundings. But still, here he was, unable to pin a name or symptom to what the hell was going on with him.
"Breakfast is being served, Consort," Sonia said from behind.
Elias nodded, his back still to her, his mind still in wonder as he felt a presence… like shadows hovering above him and waiting for just the right moment to snatch him away.
Once done with his meal, Elias was ready for the day. He had a little appearance to make at the orphanage, and thereafter, maybe a meeting with the omegas.
As he made his way down the stairs, Blake stood waiting, arms crossed, as Kim stared at him with hesitation from behind Elias.
"You're sure you're alright, Consort? We could cancel if—"
Elias smiled. "Yes… I am fine," he replied. But then his steps halted, and his gaze settled fully on Blake.
"Shouldn't you be with your master?" he demanded.
"Well… just passing," Blake stammered.
Elias's lips curled upwards. "It seems I missed a great deal."
"Nothing important," Kim quickly said from behind. "Just rest… that's what the healer prescribed."
Elias narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He knew a cover-up when he heard one.
Within the throne room, the stiff statue of Prince Rowan stood on the balcony. He had not moved since the break of dawn, his eyes fixed on the courtyard below as he watched the soldiers train. Deep down, he knew something was coming… something mightier. They had to be ready.
The servants went about, but none of it seemed to take his mind away from Elias. That night had imprinted something in him.
"Mason seeks an audience." A guard announced from outside.
"Let him in," Rowan instructed, and Mason stepped inside quietly. In his hands was a scroll.
"He doesn't remember," Mason whispered, and for a second, Rowan heard his heart shatter.
"What… what do you mean by 'he doesn't remember?" He almost yelled, but Mason stood still.
"He may be aware of the pain or not… But I fear he doesn't know of the death." Rowan stiffened.
"And?" he asked.
A long pause swept between them as Mason arranged his words in the best way possible.
"There's a cost for every resurrection."
Rowan chuckled bitterly. This all had to be some joke, but then it was real. Too real.
"I don't care if he remembers… I don't know. But I do know he died in my arms." Rowan turned his back, facing the courtyard as he stared at Mason.
"I… I'm having trouble making sense of my feelings. He died. He now lives." He sighed, ruffling his hair.
"Something is wrong. For I know, the feeling within is not just a coincidence… We've been there, Mason. Not just that night… I've held him before, and I've watched him die in my arms… this feeling—it tastes like nothing better than déjà vu."
Rowan exhaled slowly, then turned back to the courtyard, his fingers tightening on the railing.
"There's a cost for every resurrection. Sometimes it's time, sometimes a soul, sometimes… something darker," Mason reminded. "Even if you didn't pay it yet…"
Rowan turned sharply. "What do you mean?"
But Mason didn't answer. He simply dropped the scroll on the table and walked out. His silence was heavier than words.
As Elias walked through the pack, people paused and bowed… But more than a few gave him weary looks. He would hear the whispers that followed his every step. The orphanage was no better. Children ran up to him and laughed with him, but the teachers held back. Some didn't even say hello.
He didn't remember, but they did.
The rumors of his death had spread widely, though shrouded in a cloak of deceit. Some servants had witnessed the candles, the faint smell of valley lilies, and the forbidden fog that swept through the kingdom.
Magic it was… forbidden, and now he was feared.
"Why do they look at me like I'm cursed?" Elias asked Kim as they reached the palace.
Kim stared at Sonia for a quick second, his hands tightening on his sword.
"I demand answers. You may serve the crown, but without me here… you won't be. So you serve me." Elias stepped forward, his face cold and his hands tightened. "What happened?" he asked again.
But still, Kim was quiet. He didn't move, speak, or blink.
Elias chuckled bitterly but turned and walked away.
"Because you were dead, Elias. And now you're not."
Elias stopped walking. His eyes stared into the distance, and his body trembled.
Now it made sense—the feeling was not misunderstood.
He turned, and his eyes locked with Kim's.
"Tell me the truth… everything. What happened that night?" Kim opened his mouth, then closed it. He couldn't. He dared not.
"I can't defy the crown… Consort," he bowed, eyes to the ground.
Elias nodded, tears threatening to fall.
"You're dismissed," he said, then walked away… He almost ran.
Later that night, Prince Rowan found himself lingering in the Western Tower. The scent of the lilies still lingered faintly, and the chamber was empty. He closed his eyes, silence embracing him like a forbidden hug.
He could hear them—Elias's final words.
"I'm finally getting what I want."
His eyes snapped open.
"What did he mean?" he pondered, but then a chill swept through the room, and he turned. Elias stood by the door, his face cold and unreadable.
"You shouldn't be here," Elias said softly, walking in. "It's my palace,"
"Is it?" Rowan replied dismissively.
Elias's eyes flickered, a wave of emotions passing through them—but just as it came, it was gone. He glanced around the room, and the faint smell of lilies couldn't be missed. It was the same, like those beneath the tree. This was all too coincidental.
"I see we've crossed the line… No crown can protect." Rowan didn't answer. Rather, he attempted to leave, but Elias was quick. He watched the door slam in his face.
"Who brought me back?" Elias asked, his back leaning against the wall and fingers tightening on the doorknob.
Rowan chuckled. He stepped forward, then leaned in, his breath fanning the man before him.
"Would it matter?"
"Yes!" Elias almost screamed. "I don't feel myself. Something—something—is waking in me and I do not know what or who… I need answers, Rowan," he hissed, his eyes fierce.
"This isn't about you… It's my life," he added, his heart pounded, and his breath hitched.
"Who brought me back?" he demanded, but just then, within the curtains, a shadow moved, Elias blinked, and his legs stepped forward.
"A curse planted by blood… sealed by lust." Elias gasped, but the voice was gone.