The Awakening of Guardian

The ice surrounding Owen began to crack softly, a series of faint creaks echoing through the stillness. The sound grew louder, each crack reverberating in the silent air like a haunting whisper.

The servants held their breath, their eyes wide with disbelief as the once frozen figure within the ice began to stir. Slowly, the ice splintered apart, falling in large shards, revealing Owen standing there as if nothing had transpired.

He stood motionless for a moment, his expression calm and unchanging, as though this were a scene from another life entirely. His eyes, now clear and sharp, seemed distant, as if he carried the weight of experiences no one could fathom.

Owen glanced down at his hands, then at the cracked ice around him. His gaze moved to the stunned faces of the servants before him. His tone was steady, almost indifferent.

"Can I get some fruits?" His voice was calm and composed, as if he had just woken up from a brief nap. "It's like I've been meditating for hours."

The servants exchanged wide-eyed glances, their minds struggling to comprehend what they had just witnessed. Yvette, standing several feet away, was frozen in shock, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Weeks. They had all thought it was just hours that Owen had been out in the storm, meditating. But now they realized it had been weeks.

One of the servants, barely able to speak, nodded quickly and ran off to fetch something.

Yvette could hardly breathe. Her mind raced, and her heart pounded painfully in her chest. She watched Owen, his expression so detached, so calm, that it sent a chill down her spine. The man standing before her wasn't the man she had known.

Terror gripped her as she took a cautious step forward. "Owen…" Her voice trembled. "What… What happened to you?"

Owen turned his gaze toward her, his eyes cold, distant, almost void of any emotion. The man she had once seen filled with passion and warmth now seemed like a stranger.

"I was meditating," he replied, his tone flat. "The storm didn't bother me. Time felt different there."

Yvette swallowed hard, her heart racing. "You were out there for weeks… with no food, no shelter…"

Owen's gaze remained unflinching. "I needed to be alone. The world can wait."

His calmness sent shivers through her, the man who once begged for her attention was now completely unrecognizable. The fire, the passion that had once burned behind his eyes, had been extinguished.

"You're not the same person," Yvette whispered, unable to hide the fear in her voice. "Who are you?"

Owen took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "I've always been the same," he said, his tone devoid of the warmth she once knew. "You just stopped seeing it."

Yvette clenched her fists, the familiar anger bubbling beneath her fear. "This isn't you," she said, her voice shaking. "The man I married wouldn't have turned into…"

Owen interrupted, his voice sharp. "The man you married was weak. He couldn't stand on his own. I am no longer that man."

Her breath hitched. "What are you now?"

Owen met her gaze with an icy indifference. "I am stronger."

Yvette took a step back, the world around her shifting. The man she thought she knew had disappeared, replaced by someone she didn't recognize—someone who didn't need her, who no longer cared.

Tears blurred her vision as she whispered, "What happened to the man who loved me?"

But Owen remained silent, his gaze locked on her with a chilling detachment.

"I no longer need love," he finally said. "I've embraced what was always meant to be—my destiny."

Owen stood there, his expression as calm as ever. The faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a quiet, almost imperceptible trace of something Yvette couldn't quite place.

He looked at Yvette, who still stood frozen, her mind spinning from the sight of him, from his transformation. She was trembling, unable to comprehend the figure before her—this cold, distant man who had once been filled with life and passion.

Owen took a slow, deliberate step forward. His voice was soft but unwavering.

"Yvette," he said, his tone measured, "will you divorce me or not?"

Yvette's breath hitched, her fists clenched at her sides. The questions raced through her mind, but her voice trembled when she spoke.

"No," she said, her tone sharp with anger, "I won't give you a divorce. You're not walking out of this mansion."

Owen said nothing, just continued to look at her with that unflinching gaze, as if he already knew the outcome.

"Why would you even ask for a divorce now?" Yvette shouted, her voice cracking. "You begged for my love before, and now you ask for freedom?"

Owen remained silent, his calm demeanor only deepening her frustration.

She took a step closer, her voice rising. "You left for weeks! You abandoned everything! And now you expect me to just let you go?"

Still, he didn't respond, his gaze never wavering.

Yvette's fury bubbled over, and with a sharp tug, she grabbed his collar. "Answer me!" she shouted, her eyes blazing with anger. "Why do you want a divorce now?!"

Owen didn't flinch. His expression remained cold and collected, unaffected by her outburst.

"I need no one," he said, his voice low, distant. "I've realized that what once tied us together is gone. The man you married no longer exists. You should let me go."

Yvette's breath hitched, her grip tightening on his collar. "How dare you!" she shouted. "After all this time, you ask for freedom like it means nothing to you?!"

Tears streamed down her face as she shook him. "You don't get to make these decisions alone!"

Still, Owen didn't fight back. His calmness only intensified her anger.

After a long silence, Owen slowly reached into his pocket. His hand emerged, holding a small, familiar object.

Yvette's eyes widened in shock as he held out their wedding ring—a symbol of their past, the very thing that had once bound them together.

Without a word, he extended it toward her, his faint smile still lingering.

Yvette stared at the ring, her chest heaving. For a moment, she was lost in the weight of memories, of what they had once been.

Tears fell from her eyes as she slowly reached out and took the ring from his hand.

"Is this what you've become?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Owen said nothing, simply watching her with that calm detachment, his expression unreadable.

"Fine," Yvette whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll agree…"

Owen nodded, his faint smile barely there. "Thank you."

The silence between them stretched, heavy with the weight of their shared past and uncertain future. Yvette clutched the ring tightly, her fingers trembling, feeling the emptiness that now seemed to stretch between them.