Into the Flames

(RJ's POV)

The day I was born, my mother had bruises on her face, and she was crying. I still remember how she looked—vividly. I even remember the time I spent in her womb, hearing her voice as she sang to me. I'm not sure if she was crying that day out of joy from having me… or from the pain of her injuries. She was only allowed to hold me for two minutes before my father ordered the midwife to take me away.

"You bitch! How dare you put your hands on her!" I heard him yell.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" my mother cried. I glanced at her from the maid's arms. I was strong enough to walk, but this new world was so disorienting that I was still struggling to process my surroundings.

"She's worth a million of you... and now that my child is born, I don't need you anymore."

"Vetro, please!" she screamed, but then glass spears rose from the floor beneath her bed and pierced her body in several places. Blood splattered everywhere, drenching everyone in the room—including me and my father.

He smiled as he looked at me for the first time.

"Wash the child," was all he said before leaving.

For years, I wondered what woman he had killed my mother over. His harem had over 200 women at the time, and he seemed to go through them all liberally, never showing favoritism. After I turned three, my power was discovered—markings of fire appeared on my arm. When this was reported to my father, he grinned and said,

"I guess Natasha wasn't useless after all."

That's when I learned my mother's name.

Six months later, Rytem joined me in the Chosen Wing. A week after that, Netalai arrived. Then, just two days later, Valin joined us. Rytem was chatty and always upbeat. Netalai was extremely introverted and only spoke to Rytem, who was his biological cousin. Valin kept to himself and got visibly stressed whenever someone spoke to him. He was two years younger than the rest of us, with a tiny frame, plump cheeks, and long curly hair. He looked like a doll—he didn't belong in a place like this.

Two years later, the rest of our brothers started arriving one by one. Zai had to watch his family be murdered and violated by my father… so I felt an instant kinship with him. I wanted to talk to him, but fear held me back. My father was the one he hated most. Could I ever be his friend?

One day, while I was studying with Tana in my room, she suddenly stood and said, "I'm sorry... I'll be right back."

She stepped into the hallway, trying to collect herself, when my father appeared. I hadn't seen him in weeks. He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her close.

"The servants said you seemed troubled. What's going on?" he asked, gentle in a tone I didn't know he could use.

"It's just… sometimes he looks like her… and… I'm trying to push through it. I'm fine."

Then he kissed her. On the lips.

Despite her facial deformity, her wild appearance—and the fact that she was his sister—he kissed her. Tenderly. She cupped his face, returned it with parted lips and her tongue, like a lover. I had to look away. Everything in my past suddenly made sense.

My mother attacked Tana… and Tana was the only person my father ever showed genuine empathy toward. That's why he killed my mother.

Moments later, they said their goodbyes, and Tana returned to her seat beside me. "I'm sorry about that… where were we?"

I tried to speak, but instead of words, vomit erupted from my mouth. I managed to avoid hitting her, but I couldn't stop until my stomach was empty. She stroked my back to comfort me, but that only made it worse. The urge to set her on fire right then and there was hard to suppress.

A week later, it was time to decide our Vows.

I finally sat beside Zai. He was brooding—I could feel the weight of his pain—but I was just happy to finally have a reason to talk to him. Cera whispered to Zai about a game he invented, inviting him to join. Zai usually kept to himself unless invited. I was excited. We'd all lived together for a while, but rarely spent time like that. I knew Netalai wouldn't join us, but even still, the idea of bonding with my brothers was appealing.

"Training works, but that kind of progress is slow and dull," Tana said. "To gain power quickly, you must make sacrifices. Today, we will sacrifice your rights. You can choose your right to see, to hear, to love—whatever you want. But once you make this commitment, there is no turning back. It is irreversible, and you will die in more agony than you can imagine."

I thought hard about what I could give up. Eventually, I decided to sacrifice my right to lie. I've always hated that right. Maybe, just maybe, it would help keep me from becoming like my father.

Netalai and Hyzi didn't choose their vows in time and missed what would become the most life-changing game of my life—the game that broke open the door of our confinement and allowed me to see the sky for the first time.

I ran outside, smiling at the sun, amazed by the heat on my skin. In the distance, I spotted a lake. Out of curiosity, I ran toward it—and I wasn't expecting what I found.

A woman.

She was awe-inspiring, with thick black curls, umber skin, and silver eyes. She stood waist-deep in the water and smiled at me.

"Hello, little one. Are you lost?"

I stared at her, stunned. I'd seen hundreds of women, but none of them had ever looked like this. Her voice sent my heart racing. I'd been staring for so long that I blushed and looked away. Then I heard the water shift—she was coming toward me.

When she reached the shore, she crouched down and patted my head.

"I can help you find your family," she offered.

"No!" I shouted.

She stood, hand on hip. "So… am I to assume you're here on purpose?" She mumbled something under her breath about Afarions neglecting their children.

"What's your name?" I asked.

She giggled. "My name is Aluma. What's yours?"

"I don't think I should tell you."

She laughed. "Very well. I'll just keep calling you little one, then."

I'm not that short! I'm 5'4 (164 cm). Sure, she's taller than me, but still—being talked to like a child? Annoying. I needed her to look at me differently.

My heart pulsed with something fiery. It was the first time I'd felt this way, but I recognized it instantly: I wanted to own her. I wanted her to think of me constantly—feel joy, sorrow, lust, because of me. I wanted her to scream my name like the girls in my father's harem screamed his.

"Since you're here," she said, interrupting my thoughts, "maybe you can join me for a walk. I was getting awfully bored on my own."

I smiled innocently to mask my thoughts and took her hand.

"I'd love to keep you company."

She talked about the weather, about how beautiful the day was, but to me, everything paled in comparison to her. She asked me about my interests and family, but I gave only vague replies.

As the sun set, she sighed. "Oh no, I have to go… It was nice meeting you, little one. You should head home now."

I nodded and watched her walk away, finally dropping my facade and allowing myself to take in every inch of her figure. Once she was gone, I searched for a place to hide.

I began etching runes into my skin—runic theories I'd read about body manipulation and accelerated aging. I made mistakes. I had to wait for wounds to heal before trying again. It took five hours, but eventually, I got it right.

I changed my body into my full-grown form: 6'4 (193 cm). I stole clothes from a shopping district nearby and returned to the lake.

She was there.

She looked visibly flustered when she saw me, her gaze scanning my body the same way I had done to hers the night before.

"Hello… is your name Aluma, by chance?"

She dunked her head underwater when I spoke, then slowly peeked out. "Me? Um… I'm sorry, what was the question?"

I stepped into the water, removing my shirt.

"You match the description perfectly. You must be her—Aluma. I believe you met someone yesterday… someone who looks a little like me."

Her eyes darted away. "O-oh… I do see a resemblance. I did meet a little one yesterday. That must have been your brother."

I smiled gently. "I just wanted to meet you and thank you for looking out for him. I hope it wasn't any trouble."

"No… he was very sweet." She wrung water from her hair.

"What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Raijian," I answered.

She met my gaze for two seconds, then inched toward me. "What about the boy I met last night?"

"You can call him Jey."

"It's nice to meet you, Raijian." I'm impressed that I was able to deceive her without even lying.

We spent the evening together. Everything I said made her smile or blush. She loved my jokes, opened up about her childhood, and asked about my favorite foods.

I knew then—I was one step closer to stealing her heart.