Unwanted memories

Thirteen Years Ago

The Royal Academy of Aphros was alive with excitement. Children took to the skies for the first time, their wings beating against the golden sunlight as they soared. Parents watched with pride, some cheering, others frowning as their offspring struggled to keep up. Among them, the Emperor and Empress observed the spectacle, their attention fixed on the little girl who had taken the lead.

Aria.

She ascended higher than her peers, her wings strong and steady, effortlessly catching the wind. Some children followed her trail, others faltered, and a few broke into tears, unable to take flight. The noble spectators responded in a mix of admiration, jealousy, and reluctant applause.

From the high chamber reserved for the imperial family, seven-year-old Luciana sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap. Her seat afforded her a perfect view of the sky, yet her gaze wandered elsewhere—toward the lower chamber where her uncle and aunt sat with their son.

Octavius.

The boy was a year older than her, his dark eyes keen as he observed the flying children. Whenever Luciana stole a glance at him, he smiled and waved. She blushed, looking away, her heart fluttering for reasons she could not quite understand.

The summer heat was at its peak, the sun a golden orb in a sky unmarred by clouds. She turned back to the spectacle, watching her younger sister, a mix of pride and longing twisting inside her.

"I wish I could fly."

A gentle voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Darling, look at her," Aphrodite, the Empress, whispered in awe. "She flies just like you did when I first saw you."

Helios, the Emperor, smiled at his wife before nodding in approval.

Luciana lowered her gaze. A heavy weight settled in her chest, a silent ache she had long grown used to.

"I was born different."

"Baby, are you alright?" Her mother's voice was laced with concern.

Luciana forced a small smile. "I just need some air, Mother."

"But there is still one event left after this," Aphrodite protested gently.

"It's only the purification ceremony," Luciana reasoned.

"And the most important one—"

Helios placed a hand on his wife's, cutting her off with quiet reassurance.

"My love, let her go," he said. "She has been patient all day. A short walk will do her good."

Relief flooded Luciana's features. She wrapped her small arms around her father and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you, Father."

"Anything for my princess." He ruffled her hair lightly before his expression turned serious. "But don't wander too far."

"I won't."

With that, Aphrodite took Luciana's hand, her fingers cool and slender against her daughter's small palm. Together, they descended the marble steps, passing the ever-watchful imperial guards. A portion of their escort took to the sky, their wings casting fleeting shadows on the ground, while the rest followed on foot.

Luciana let out a soft sigh. "We could have come alone."

Her mother shook her head. "It's better to be cautious."

Luciana nodded, saying nothing more.

The Academy was a magnificent institution—the oldest school of flying arts and scholarly pursuits. Luciana had often dreamed of studying there, of one day graduating alongside her peers. But her parents had always been protective, unwilling to subject her to the scrutiny and cruelty of noble children.

As they strolled through the garden near the fountains, Luciana finally voiced the question that had haunted her for years.

"Mother… why was I born different?"

Aphrodite halted mid-step, exhaling softly before turning to face her daughter. Only when they had reached the edge of the fountain did she speak.

"My sweet princess," she murmured, kneeling to Luciana's height. "I miscarried four times before I had you. You were our miracle." She cupped Luciana's face in her hands. "God does not make mistakes, my love. You are different, yes, but that only means you are cherished in ways others are not."

Luciana bit her lip. "But… without wings?"

"Everyone has their burdens to bear, my child. Some wear them openly, others in secret. But I know you have a gift—your voice. It is unlike any other." Aphrodite brushed a strand of hair behind Luciana's ear. "You and I are more alike than you think."

The words soothed something deep inside Luciana. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to the back of her mother's hand.

"I'm lucky to have you and Father," she whispered.

Their conversation carried on as the sun began its descent, casting a fiery red glow across the sky. The air shifted—subtly at first, then more intensely.

Aphrodite stopped abruptly, her gaze snapping upward.

"It's too early for the lights to be lit."

A shadow crept across the heavens, the deep crimson of twilight edged with unnatural black.

"Luci… stay here."

The Empress's voice was sharp, urgent. She turned to her guards.

"Ser Apolo, release the signals."

The order was carried out instantly. A flare of light shot into the sky.

Luciana felt unease coil in her stomach. "Mother, what's happening?"

"Nothing to worry about, sweetheart."

But Luciana was not convinced. A strange noise echoed from the eastern olive orchard, setting her nerves on edge.

"There's something there," she whispered, pointing toward the darkened grove.

Aphrodite's breath hitched.

A presence loomed beyond the trees. Thick, cloying malice filled the air.

"Demons."

The Empress's fingers tightened around the hilt of a guard's sword.

"All troops, prepare for battle!" she commanded.

Luciana's pulse spiked. "M-Mother?"

"Ser Titus, take her!"

The knight wasted no time. He scooped Luciana into his arms and took flight.

"No! Mother!" She kicked and struggled, panic clawing at her chest.

Below, arrows whistled through the air, dark magic lacing their tips. The imperial guards raised their shields, forming a protective barrier around the Empress. But Aphrodite barely flinched. A golden aura shimmered around her—the Emperor's protective spell.

Even so, the demons were relentless.

"Dark magic," she realized. "Mid-level fiends."

She lifted her hand, light radiating from her palm. The flare burst into the sky, illuminating the battlefield.

"Slay them all!"

At the Colosseum, the imperial guards burst into the Emperor's chamber.

"Your Majesty!" A soldier landed, breathless. "Demons have breached the borders!"

Helios went deathly still.

"What?"

"The Empress is holding them off at the Garden of Dancing Fountains."

Rudolf, seated beside him, shot to his feet.

Helios wasted no time. "Alert all garrisons! Reinforce the border! Notify the Alchemist National Tower!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The soldier saluted before vanishing into the sky.

The imperial guards mobilized instantly, a storm of steel and magic rushing toward the battlefield.

By the time reinforcements arrived, the demons were already retreating. Those captured were interrogated—some tortured, some executed.

Far from the chaos, Rudolf awoke with a start.

His breath came ragged. The memory still clung to him, vivid and haunting.

"Just a passing dream."

He exhaled, rubbing his temples as his squire entered the room.

"My lord," the man said, bowing. "There has been another demon incursion at the western border."

Rudolf's expression darkened.

"It never ends," he muttered.

And deep in his gut, he knew—this was only the beginning.