Nothing at All

It had been hours since the men who killed her father had left with his lifeless body, yet Agatha couldn't move an inch. Her whole body was shivering with fear, more intense than any cold she had ever felt. She couldn't breathe. A lump seemed to lodge in her tightening throat. Her vision was blurred by the fresh, warm tears streaming down her reddening cheeks.

Her feelings were indescribable. It was as though her heart was being split in two, then squeezed, then stomped on, and finally shredded into irreparable pieces. The pain was so intense it almost numbed her entire being. Her stomach churned with the horror of what she had witnessed, yet she couldn't vomit. The sour taste lingered in her mouth.

She squeezed her small frame further inside the wooden cabinet that had served as her hiding spot, wishing the darkness would consume her completely, erasing her from this cruel world.

Her ears rang, and her innocent mind was flooded with a harsh truth: her father was dead and gone. It was something she couldn't fully comprehend yet.

Why was this happening? Why did it have to happen in the first place? First, her mother's sibling had disappeared. And now, Agatha's father...

Her father had been deeply kind and unconditionally generous. He never hurt anyone, much less cursed at them. He had always taught Agatha what one must and must not do. He was the one who taught her not to steal, not to hurt others, no matter who or what they were.

That was why she couldn't understand why someone would want to kill her father. For what reason? What was the motive? More baffling, why had her Uncle Ksaver killed her father himself?

They trusted him. Her father trusted him.

Agatha had lost track of time. She just cried and cried until her body weakened. As she was about to lose consciousness, the door of the cabinet suddenly split open, and light spilled into the darkness.

Agatha jumped in fright, ready to defend herself if necessary. Instead, she was met with a warm embrace. Her eyes adjusted to the new light.

"M-Ma? Ma!" Agatha wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, sobbing against her chest.

After hearing an explosion outside, her father had gone to investigate. When he didn't return, her mother had hidden Agatha in the cabinet, telling her not to leave, before departing to find her husband.

"Ma…" Agatha struggled to breathe or speak. "Papa… He's gone… He's…"

Agatha couldn't finish her sentence as she felt the warm tears of her mother. She had been crying too. Agatha wasn't fully recovered, but her mother released her from their tight embrace.

"Agatha, my sweet girl," her mother whispered, her voice trembling. "I know. I know." She stroked Agatha's hair gently. "We have to stay strong. We have to find a way to survive this."

Agatha nodded, though her heart felt heavy with grief and confusion. She clung to her mother, finding a small measure of comfort in her presence.

It was only then that Agatha saw her mother's figure so vividly. Her mother's once charming face was now marred by countless wounds and bruises. Her white dress was covered in darkening blood, and her brown hair was tangled with dried mud.

Her mother's eyes were bloodshot, filled with tears, fear, and hopelessness. Agatha cried even harder.

"We can't stay here any longer, Agatha. They might come back to hurt us…"

Her mother's movements were frantic. She grabbed Agatha's delicate arm, and they ran across the home where they had grown up.

"We must go to your Auntie Eva," her mother said in a hushed voice. "She could help us."

Although Agatha did not know Auntie Eva well, she had heard her parents mention her a few times. Auntie Eva was her father's best friend, and they had grown up together.

Agatha had already forgotten about any footwear in their rush. She didn't mind running barefoot, even though the sharp ground bit into her soles.

Her mother held her hand tightly as they navigated the exit. In the middle of the muted and cold night, they traversed through the nearby forest. The forest was dark and foreboding, but despite not knowing what lay ahead, Agatha braced herself. Her heart was full of fear and sadness, but she knew she had to be brave. 

"We have to be fast, Agatha," her mother urged. "We must reach Auntie Eva before they find us. She can help us."

Her mother tightened her grip on Agatha. Despite her weak and exhausted body, Agatha didn't complain. They didn't stop running until the sun finally rose, and they arrived at a vast castle. They found themselves at its wide rear, the towering walls looming over them.

"Auntie Eva is our only chance, Agatha," her mother said, her voice weakening. "She'll help us."

Agatha wanted to ask her mother what was happening, but one look at her weary and panicked face made her stay silent and nod. She didn't know who owned this castle or why they were there. She simply followed her mother's lead, determined not to be a burden in this critical situation.

Her mother pushed a protruding stone on the wall, and suddenly a thick wall rose up, revealing a narrow passage. Without a word, her mother pulled Agatha inside.

The space was dark, and it was difficult to breathe in the cramped quarters. But Agatha endured, following her mother's lead through a few twists and turns until they were greeted by candlelight and torches that ignited on their own.

They entered a chamber filled with portraits and paintings. Though it was dark, the ample light allowed Agatha to see the faces in the portraits, each seeming to observe them from above.

In the center of the chamber stood a majestic woman. Even in the dim light, her flawless skin shone like stars in the night sky. Her eyes were as blue as the clear sea, and her small red lips formed a gentle smile. She was a sight to behold.

Agatha's mother knelt before the woman, sobbing. "Eva…" She couldn't finish her words as she broke down in tears. Agatha approached her mother and hugged her tightly, feeling her shivering body.

"I-I don't know what to do," Agatha's mother said in a desperate voice. "They would kill us. They will kill my daughter, Eva. Help us. You can help us, right? I know you will help us…"

Agatha's mother begged and cried, her hands shaking against her face. Agatha didn't know how to calm her mother, so she just hugged her gently and warmly.

"M-ma…" Agatha called out.

Then Eva spoke up. "You want me to help you?" 

Agatha's mother nodded quickly and firmly, but Agatha remained silent. Something about the woman named Eva felt off to her.

"What would it benefit me if I help you, Lorelei?" Eva asked, her tone cool and calculating.

Agatha clenched her fists. She had believed Eva to be kind, as her father had said. Why was she now seeming otherwise? Did helping always require an exchange?

Lorelei's face turned desperate. "I'll do anything," she pleaded in a high voice that echoed through the hall. "Just help us, Eva. Please save my daughter."

Agatha felt a chill run down her spine as Eva gave her mother a sinister smile.

"Anything?" Eva asked, amusement lacing her words. She laughed, finding something amusing in Agatha and Lorelei's desperation.

Lorelei nodded fervently. "Just save my daughter…"

The silence in the room was deafening. Agatha couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her heart pounded, as if warning her of impending danger.

"Kiss my feet," Eva whispered softly, a smirk playing on her lips as she fluttered her eyelashes.

Without hesitation, Lorelei obeyed and crawled toward Eva, kissing her feet. Agatha's heart shattered as she watched her mother in that helpless yet determined state. Tears streamed down her face, but there was still a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Agatha felt a scream rising in her throat, wanting to tell her mother to stop and stand up. She had been raised by her parents to treat everyone with fairness, regardless of their circumstances. Wealth wasn't a measure of someone's worth. Rich or poor, they were all equally valuable. Agatha knew her own worth, and she believed that their lives were just as important as anyone else's, royal blood or not.

It was painful for her to see her mother kneeling and crawling before a woman she didn't even know. Agatha could tell from the opulence of Eva's dress and surroundings that she was wealthy, which only added to her frustration. They seemed so arrogant and full of themselves.

But Agatha had to swallow her pride. If she wanted to survive with her mother, she had to play along, no matter how degrading it felt.

Her mother continued to plead for help, crawling and repeating her words. Agatha fought back her anger, reminding herself that this was the only way her mother knew how to survive. She didn't understand where they were or what was happening, but she sensed danger looming over their lives.

Unable to bear watching her mother lick Eva's feet, Agatha looked away. It was too much to witness. Who was this woman to demand such submission? Despite it all, her mother showed no hesitation, only desperation and determination as she begged for help. 

Agatha's tears fell one by one like a broken faucet, her sadness overwhelming. But suddenly, her sorrow was overshadowed by another emotion as someone grabbed her mother.

The man who had surrounded them before approached with determined strides.

Lorelei looked back at Eva, confusion and sadness in her voice. "What's happening?" She tried to compose herself, but the tall man behind her was pulling her away.

Agatha rushed to her mother's side, gripping her arms and attempting to pull her back. But the man's strength far exceeded hers.

"Mother…" Agatha called out, desperation in her voice.

Lorelei sobbed as she addressed Eva again while being dragged away. "What does this mean, Eva?"

Her sobs grew louder, and Agatha cried desperately too, refusing to let go of her mother. But then the man kicked her stomach, sending her crashing into a shadowy corner.

Lorelei struggled, trying to reach Agatha, but a man Agatha recognized held her back. Her eyes widened as she realized who it was. It was Uncle Ksaver.

Agatha's blood boiled with anger. She couldn't explain the fury that engulfed her heart. Despite her efforts to stand, her body weakened from the pain that echoed through her back from the impact of her fall.

Agatha refused to let pain stop her from protecting her mother. Summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she crawled toward her.

"Agatha…" Lorelei shouted and screamed, trying desperately to break free from Ksaver's grip, until she was violently slapped by Eva.

Agatha's hands clenched into fists, blood dripping from her nails as she fought the urge to hurt them. She forced herself to stand again, but Ksaver's companion grabbed her neck, cutting off her air supply. She struggled to free herself, her vision blurring as darkness crept in, the pain in her neck intensifying with each passing second.

Despite her efforts to fight back, the grip around her neck tightened, depriving her of breath. Panic surged through her as she realized she couldn't break free. She shouldn't be weak, not now. Her mother needed her. She had to keep fighting!

Agatha exerted all her remaining strength to escape the choking hold, but it was futile. Her body grew cold as Eva retrieved a long sword. Time seemed to stand still as Agatha watched in horror as the sword's tip slowly descended toward her mother's heart.

In that moment, everything changed for Agatha. She screamed with all her heart, but no sound escaped her open mouth. Tears welled in her eyes, but they refused to fall. She was paralyzed, unable to move or breathe as she witnessed the sword pierce her mother's heart. 

With a thud, Lorelei's body fell to the ground, blood spilling around her.

"No…" Agatha uttered, the only word she could muster.

A different kind of heat surged through Agatha's system, followed by an explosion of pain in her throat. She didn't know how the hand that had been choking her had released, but all she could feel was the overwhelming agony threatening to burst out of her chest. So she did the only thing she could do.

She screamed. Every ounce of anger, sadness, regret, and remaining strength poured out in her scream. It echoed through the room, leaving her throat dry and her body trembling. She didn't even notice when everyone around her lost consciousness.

Agatha tried to get up, but her body felt unbearably weak. She could only crawl toward her mother, reaching out in a futile attempt to help. In the end, she felt as though she had done nothing at all.