章節 28: guilt
Cior barely made it back to her room after teleporting home, her gown swapped out for her usual sleepwear and her hair hastily cut just above her shoulders. She flopped onto her bed, ruffling her hair to make it look like she'd been asleep the entire evening. When the boys returned from the ball, laughing and chatting, she greeted them groggily, pretending to have just woken up.
Arven was the first to notice her. "Your fiancée is beautiful, by the way," he said, grinning mischievously.
Cior blinked, feigning innocence. "Thanks," she replied nonchalantly, stifling a yawn.
Mateo chimed in. "You missed out, Cior. The ball was amazing! Even you might've enjoyed it."
"Yeah, I'm sure I would've," she said, rolling her eyes lazily.
Amaias, however, stayed silent, watching her with a look that screamed I know what you did. As the other boys started heading to their rooms, he finally spoke. "Cior, I need to talk to you. Alone."
Cior raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "Sure," she said, pointing towards her room. "Come in."
Once inside, Amaias closed the door behind him, crossing his arms as he looked at her sternly. "Why were you there? And in female form?" he asked, his tone low but firm.
Cior sighed dramatically, flopping back onto her bed. "I was bored," she said, as if that explained everything.
"Bored?" Amaias repeated, exasperated. "You could've been caught. You need to be more careful."
"Okay, okay, Dad," she teased, smirking. "Relax. Everything went perfectly."
Amaias pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to hold back a lecture. "Just... don't be reckless. Please."
"Got it," Cior said, hopping off the bed and practically pushing him out of her room. "Good night, Amaias."
Before he could say anything else, she shut the door, leaning against it with a small smile. For all his seriousness, Amaias cared, and she couldn't help but appreciate it—though she'd never admit it out loud.
A few days had passed, but Cior couldn't shake the growing unease about the principal's inaction regarding the horrifying experiments in the forest. After grappling with her thoughts, she decided to revisit the area alone, hoping to find some clarity—or perhaps a reason for the delay.
When she arrived, the scene was far worse than she could have imagined. The once-bustling underground lab was eerily silent. The smell of decay hung heavy in the air. Bodies of children, lifeless and discarded like broken tools, were strewn across the area. Cior's breath hitched, and her legs trembled as memories of her own torturous past came flooding back. Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she could barely move.
"I was too late," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I should've done more... sooner."
Despite her fear and guilt, she forced herself to search the area thoroughly. There had to be something—someone—she could save. Her eyes darted desperately from one lifeless form to another until, miraculously, she found a boy, no older than eight, barely clinging to life.
She knelt beside him, cradling his fragile frame in her arms. His breathing was shallow, but he was alive. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, "Hang in there, okay? I'm getting you out of here."
With trembling hands, she summoned her teleportation ability and took the boy to Kieran. She appeared abruptly in his study, startling him as he sipped his tea.
"Lunette—what in the heavens—?" he started, but stopped when he saw the boy in her arms and the hollow look in her eyes.
"He's the only one... the only one left," she said, her voice cracking. "I was too late. I couldn't save the others."
Kieran's usual playful demeanor vanished as he stood and approached her. "Let me take care of him. You've done enough for now."
Cior reluctantly handed the boy over, her hands shaking as she stepped back. The weight of her failure pressed down on her like a stormcloud.
"I was so busy with my own plans, my own work... and now they're gone," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kieran placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You can't carry the weight of everything, Lunette. What's done is done. Focus on what you can do now."
But no matter his words, the sight of those children haunted her. She sat in silence for hours, unable to shake the overwhelming guilt and sorrow.
Cior couldn't rest, no matter how much Kieran reassured her. The weight of the lifeless children haunted her, and she knew she couldn't leave things as they were. With quiet resolve, she approached her father the next evening.
"I need your help," she said, her voice firm but carrying a faint tremble.
Kieran raised an eyebrow, sipping his tea. "With what, Lunette? Surely not another disguise escapade?"
She shook her head, her gaze serious. "I need to go back to the forest. We can't leave the bodies there. They deserve peace, and I need to gather everything I can to find out who's behind this."
For a moment, Kieran said nothing, studying her intently. Then he set his cup down and sighed. "Alright. But you're not doing this alone. Let's go."
The two teleported back to the grim site. The air was still heavy with despair, but this time, Cior felt a strange sense of purpose. With her father's help, they began the heartbreaking process of burying the children. Kieran used his abilities to ensure the ground was blessed and untouched by further harm, while Cior carefully placed each child to rest.
"I'll make sure their spirits are at peace," Kieran said softly as he finished the last grave.
Cior nodded, wiping the dirt from her hands. Her expression hardened as she began gathering everything left behind—notes, vials, strange devices, and fragments of equipment. She carefully packed it all, determined to uncover the truth.
Once the site was cleared, Cior turned to her father. "I'm not waiting for the school or anyone else to act. They've done nothing, and I can't let this happen again. I'm going to end this cycle myself."
Kieran smirked, though there was a rare flicker of pride in his eyes. "That's my girl. Just don't forget to rely on me when things get tough. You may have a sharp mind and a good heart, but even the best need a hand."
Cior looked away, hiding the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Thanks... I guess."
With her resolve renewed and the evidence in hand, she returned home. This time, she wasn't just haunted by her past—she was fueled by it. She started analyzing the materials, piecing together clues, and preparing herself for the battle ahead.
The cycle of pain would end. And this time, she wouldn't be too late.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票