II - THE IMPOSSIBLE AND TERRIBLE DILEMMA

A chilling premonition, an icy tendril of dread, coiled around Hydra's heart as she traversed the echoing halls. The staff member's silent escort, a grim sentinel beside her, was a stark reminder of the summons that had shattered the fragile peace of her day. The weight of the unknown pressed down on her, a suffocating blanket of uncertainty. Her mind, a chaotic swirl of anxious possibilities, conjured images of added chores, of back-breaking labor that would further strain her already weary body. Or, worse, the specter of dismissal, a cruel blow that would sever her ability to support Rafael and Maria, who had been forced to seek shelter outside Xaven's walls, victims of the kingdom's crippling economic woes.

She clung to a fragile sliver of hope, a desperate, flickering flame in the encroaching darkness, trying to quell the rising tide of dread that threatened to consume her. But the fear was a persistent shadow, a cold whisper in the back of her mind, refusing to be silenced, a constant reminder of her precarious position.

The imposing doors of the throne room loomed before her, casting long, ominous shadows that stretched across the polished stone floor. As they swung open, revealing the grandeur within, the sight of the king and queen perched upon their golden thrones, their gazes fixed upon her with an unsettling intensity, sent a shiver down her spine. The air itself seemed to crackle with unspoken tension, a silent prelude to the storm that was about to break.

"Hydra, I presume?" the king's voice boomed, echoing through the vast chamber, his brow arched in a dismissive inquiry, as if she were a mere object, a nameless servant summoned to their whim.

"Yes, Your Grace," Hydra replied, her voice barely a whisper, a fragile thread in the oppressive silence, her gaze lowered, struggling to maintain a semblance of composure. "What is your purpose in summoning me?"

"Remove your bonnet and look at us when we speak!" the queen snapped, her voice sharp with offense, a whip-crack in the stillness. "You dare to address us with your eyes on the floor? Have you no respect for your superiors?"

Hydra's hands trembled as she obeyed, slowly untying the ribbon of her large bonnet, the fabric designed to conceal her face and hair, to erase any hint of her individuality. As the bonnet fell away, her tightly bound bun loosened, and a cascade of white platinum silver hair tumbled down her shoulders, framing her olive-tan skin, elven ears, and the unique lilac-blue of her eyes. Her maid's uniform, a cool gray that had faded to a dull, almost grayer shade, hung slightly large on her slender frame, its worn fabric a testament to her tireless service, a symbol of her servitude.

Even in her simple, worn attire, her presence was striking, a stark contrast to the royal couple's fair complexions and brown eyes. They had long dismissed her as an anomaly, a monstrous omen, their firstborn a girl, a child with white hair, tan skin, elven ears, and those unsettling, lilac-blue eyes. They remembered the chaotic display of her infant abilities, objects flying and fires erupting, branding her a witch in their eyes.

Adding to the oppressive atmosphere, Hydra noticed the figure of the aged priest, his face etched with years of pious judgment, standing near the royal couple. He was the very man who had attended her birth, the one who had confirmed their fears, declaring her a sign of ill fortune, a blight upon their royal line. His presence, a silent sentinel, served as a chilling reminder of their conviction, and ensured that if Hydra tried to use her "Witchcraft", he would bless the room, and make sure that it would not work. The room was also warded, and filled with holy symbols, as a precaution. The heavy, ornate decorations of the throne room, the silence of the guards, the coldness that radiated from the throne itself, and the shadows that seemed to dance in the corners, all added to the oppressive atmosphere.

Despite her undeniable beauty, their gaze lingered on the thinness beneath her worn clothes, the grime that clung to her skin. It reaffirmed their perception of her as a peasant, a tool to be used, a disposable pawn in their grand schemes.

"As you know," the king began, his voice devoid of warmth, as cold as the stone beneath her feet, "the Emperor of Crystallia has long sought our daughter's hand. We have decided to grant his wish."

Hydra's blood ran cold, freezing her veins like winter's touch. The Emperor of Crystallia, a figure of dark prophecy and ancient evil, a monster who haunted her past lives, a name whispered in fear and dread. She, the reincarnated goddess, remembered him all too well, the day he had slain her beloved Leif, a wound that still bled across the ages.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," she stammered, her voice trembling, a fragile plea in the face of impending doom, "but the young princess Vidalia is just a child. The emperor is a dangerous man, his empire a realm of misery."

The queen's laughter echoed through the throne room, a cruel, mocking sound that sent a shiver down Hydra's spine. "Who said anything about Vidalia?"

A sense of dread coiled in Hydra's stomach, tightening its grip with each passing moment, a cold, constricting serpent.

"Dear, unfortunate Hydra," the king continued, his voice heavy with a sinister undertone, a dark promise of suffering, "fate has brought us to this." They revealed their plan: Hydra, their own daughter, would marry the emperor in Vidalia's place, a sacrifice to appease a monster.

"No!!! You're lying!!!" Hydra cried, her voice rising in defiance, a desperate scream against the crushing weight of their decree. "I am not your daughter, Rafael and Maria are my real parents! Not you! And I will not be bound to someone like the reincarnation of the Lord of the Demons! Not to him, not ever!!!"

"How dare you speak to us so!!!" the king roared, his patience snapping like a brittle twig. "We still hold power over you."

The queen then commented, "And it is true, that you are our daughter. We have named you Hydra after the monster. Because that's what you are. You were born abnormal, with wicked powers, and was born in my fallopian tube, almost taking my life when you entered this world."

Hydra's mind reeled, a dizzying vortex of betrayal and grief. She had always felt a strange connection to the name, believing it was a whisper from her past lives, a faint echo of her former self, like the delicate, resilient flower, Hydrangea. But hearing that in this current time, her own birth parents had named her after a monster, a creature of chaos, was a fresh wound, a cruel twist of the knife. She knew, deep within her soul, that she was a goddess reborn, but her powers remained weak, a mere shadow of their former glory, locked away by the oath she had sworn to Rafael and Maria. She still shook her head, refusing to accept their twisted logic, refusing to surrender her identity. She was her own person, someone that her parents had raised her to be, someone with a voice, with a will. "I still refuse," Hydra said, her voice trembling but firm, a desperate act of defiance. "I will not marry him."

"You refuse?" the king said, his voice hardening, a chilling edge of finality slicing through the air. "Then let me be clear. You have two choices, and only two. You will marry the Emperor of Crystallia, saving Vidalia. Or, you will refuse, and Vidalia will be sent to your place, where she will suffer an unspeakable torment. But know this, we will not hesitate to have her brought here, and tell her this. We will not hesitate to send her now to the emperor, or force and send you to him now to be his wife!"

The threat hung in the air, a suffocating weight that pressed down on Hydra's already burdened heart. They were using her love for her adoptive parents against her, twisting her loyalty into a weapon. The thought of Rafael and Maria suffering, their gentle faces contorted in pain, was a torment she couldn't bear.

Hydra's mind screamed in protest, a cacophony of conflicting emotions. "You... you are monsters," she whispered, her voice cracking, a fragile echo in the vast chamber. "How could you speak of your own daughter's life like this, and decide peoples live like this??? How you both would easily agree to wed your own flesh and blood to marry a monster… This is how I know you're not really my parents… Rafael and Maria are my parents. They raised me, loved me, protected me. You... you abandoned me."

Hydra stood there, trapped between the horror of her past and the terror of her future. The truth of her parentage, the cruelty of their betrayal, and the looming shadow of the emperor, all threatened to consume her. She was a goddess in hiding, a witch in their eyes, and now, a sacrificial bride, offered up by the very people who had birthed her.

Her mind raced, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, a storm of fear and defiance. She had sworn an oath to Rafael and Maria, her beloved parents, to never use her abilities to harm. They had taught her to keep her powers hidden, a quiet secret, a part of her she must control. Though her abilities were far from their former glory, weakened shadows of the goddess she once was, she had honored their wishes, kept them dormant. She knew of her past lives, the goddess within, but had never told anyone, not even Rafael and Maria. She kept this secret close, and they respected her choice. They were understanding and supportive, helping her to control her powers, and never unleashing them, out of fear for what could happen to her, and the kingdom. 'If only I had never made that oath,' she thought to herself, a wave of regret washing over her.

"I will not obey," she declared again, her voice trembling but firm, a desperate defiance against the overwhelming odds. "I will fight him, if I must. That way neither I nor the princess will marry him." Hydra's voice, though trembling, resonated with a fierce determination that surprised even herself.

"What power do you possess that can challenge him?" the queen sneered, her voice dripping with contempt, a venomous edge that cut through the silence. "Your meager magic? Your pathetic swordplay?"

"I have honed my skills," Hydra retorted, her voice gaining strength, a spark of defiance igniting in the face of despair. "I have observed the knights in the courtyard, mimicking their forms. I am not without means."

The king and queen exchanged a look, their expressions revealing their utter disbelief, their arrogance blinding them to her resolve. "Your magic is a paltry thing, compared to the reincarnation of evil of the Lord of the Demons," the king said, his voice laced with disdain, a dismissive wave of his hand. "And sword play would be meaningless and pointless against someone like him. And if you try to act on your own, you might anger him with your own stupid actions and might doom our kingdom because of your stupid plan."

Hydra refused to even listen, but knew that he was right. With whatever power she had left from her not fully awakened Goddess abilities, and her sword training wouldn't be as impressive with the emperor of Crystallia's strength and power, especially of his past lives powers and abilities. Not wanting to back down, she stood her ground, her spirit unyielding, even as her heart threatened to shatter into a thousand pieces. She would find a way, she had to. A desperate plan began to form in the back of her mind, a gamble, a long shot, but perhaps, her only chance.

"Then I will leave," she declared, her voice ringing with a newfound resolve. "I will leave the kingdom, and go somewhere that he cannot find me. You want to make me a sacrifice? I will remove myself from the board."

The king and queen exchanged a stunned glance. They had not anticipated such a bold move. The priest, his face a mask of disapproval, shifted uncomfortably.

"You dare to defy us?" the king roared, his face flushed with anger. "You think you can simply run away? We are the rulers of this kingdom! We will find you, wherever you go!"

"Then try," Hydra said, her voice laced with a bitter defiance. "But know this: I will not be your pawn. I will not be sacrificed to appease a monster. I will not allow you to use me to save your precious kingdom."

She turned, her white-silver hair swirling around her like a halo, her lilac-blue eyes blazing with a fierce determination. She would leave, she would protect Rafael and Maria, and she would find a way to stop the Emperor of Crystallia, even if it meant facing him alone. She would not allow them to control her fate.

"Of course, If you refuse," the king continued, his voice hardening, a chilling edge of finality slicing through the air, "the young princess Vidalia will marry him, and your parents, Rafael and Maria, will suffer and we will ensure that they meet such a cruel punishment because of your decision." Seeing Hydra's reaction, as she turned to them. Seeing as his plan, his words were working. And so he continued, and decided to tell her something he knew she wouldn't refuse. "But, If you agree, Vidalia will be free, and your parents rewarded."

The threat hung in the air, a suffocating weight that pressed down on Hydra's already burdened heart. They were using her love for her adoptive parents against her, twisting her loyalty into a weapon. The thought of Rafael and Maria suffering, their gentle faces contorted in pain, was a torment she couldn't bear. Hydra knew that she wasn't strong nor powerful enough to fight back, and would be foolish to try to fight the majesties who held the strings to her's and the others in the throne room's own will. If she would reject and deny their plan, then she would not only endanger the princess as well as her sister, but endangering the only people who had raised her. Making them suffer if she would choose the opposite path. She felt helpless, and felt that there were no other options but one. Scanning the room, she found no allies, no means of escape. She was utterly alone.

Both queen and king shared the same sinister smile, seeing that they had reached through her with their threats. They had her right where they wanted her.

"So… what do you say?" The king said almost happily.

Hating the idea so much. Not wanting to take this position she was in, as she wanted to someday marry the chosen hero Leif. Who was destined to fight alongside her to destroy the evil Lord of the Demons and his reincarnated self. But given the position she was in, she had no other choice, and nobody else to help her in her time of need. She also wanted her parents to live a better life, a life where they didn't struggle from poverty and hunger. Wanting to return their kindness, for taking care of her and raising her after all these years.

And so, summoning the strength that she had, and tears streaming down her eyes. She gave her answer.

"I… I will… I will do as you asked. As long as that means that Vidalia doesn't have to suffer such a fate, and that my parents don't suffer either." She said, her voice filled with such sorrow. Knowing that her life was entirely over, and doomed forever.

Her fate was set, her fate now lied in the hands of the enemy. Her fiance and her husband soon to be. A single tear rolled down her cheek, a silent testament to the crushing weight of her sacrifice. The king and queen exchanged a satisfied glance, their plan successful.

"Excellent," the king said, his voice smooth and cold. "Preparations will begin immediately. You will be escorted to your chambers, where you will remain until the day of the ceremony."

Two guards stepped forward, their faces impassive, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Hydra, her spirit broken but her resolve unyielding, allowed them to lead her away. As she walked, she felt a profound sense of isolation, a chilling realization that she was utterly alone in this vast, hostile world.

The doors of the throne room closed behind her, leaving the king, the queen, and the priest in a chilling silence. The king and queen began to discuss the details of the upcoming wedding, their voices devoid of any warmth or compassion. The priest, his face a mask of pious satisfaction, nodded in agreement, his presence a silent endorsement of their cruel scheme.

Hydra was led down long, winding corridors, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The guards, their faces grim, offered no words of comfort, no gestures of sympathy. They were merely following orders, carrying out the king's will.

She was taken to a lavishly decorated chamber, a stark contrast to her humble quarters in the servant's wing and her old small cramped home of parents. The room was filled with expensive furniture, ornate tapestries, and shimmering jewels. But to Hydra, it was a gilded cage, a prison designed to hold her until her execution.

The guards left, closing the heavy doors behind them, leaving her alone in the opulent prison. She sank onto the edge of the bed, her body trembling, her mind reeling. The ornate tapestries seemed to close in on her, the shimmering jewels feeling like cold, heavy chains. She was trapped, bound by a promise she couldn't break, a sacrifice she couldn't avoid. Her fate was sealed, her life no longer her own. And she knew that the Emperor of Crystallia, the reincarnation of the Lord of Demons, was waiting. His darkness a heavy weight that pressed down on her soul, a promise of the suffering to come. For their upcoming wedding, for his bride.