Elysia: Turning Point

[1:00 AM, Luminastra Estate]

The Terminal's Dialogue box materialized before an unseen observer, its reflective surface catching the glint of two piercing violet eyes.

[Observation active: Current subject—Elysia Luminastra. Former Name—Ire Haven.]

[Current Status: The Mark Of Rebirth was Successful]

[Monitoring to Ensure Ire’s Mental Stability]

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Elysia walked through the grand yet eerily quiet halls of the Luminastra estate. The weight of the banquet lingered on her mind as she adjusted the cumbersome folds of her evening dress. Its intricate design, a masterpiece of Cielmouth’s finest tailors, was not meant for swift movement, let alone comfort.

“I’ll need to change as soon as I reach my room,” she murmured, her silver hair glinting faintly under the soft glow of wall-mounted lamps.

Pushing the door to her chamber open, she sighed and sank onto the edge of her bed. The night’s events replayed in her mind—subtle glances, hushed tones, and the king’s thinly veiled displeasure. She could feel the weight of it pressing down on her family, even as nothing overt had been said.

“At least he didn’t do anything… yet.” Her voice trembled with the attempt to convince herself. “I just need to hold on until we can leave this place.”

A sudden crash shattered the stillness. It came from the far end of the hallway outside her room. Elysia shot to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. The echo of rapidly approaching footsteps followed.

The door to her chamber burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud thud. Alain Luminastra, her older brother, staggered inside, his breathing ragged. His hair was disheveled, and a deep gash ran along his left arm, blood trickling down to stain his once-pristine attire.

“Alain!” Elysia gasped, rushing toward him.

“Lock the door,” he hissed, slamming it shut behind him and bracing his weight against it. His green eyes darted around the room, sharp and alert despite the pain evident on his face.

“What happened? Are you—”

“No time,” he interrupted, his voice low but urgent. “They’re here, Elysia. Assassins. They’re targeting us.”

Her blood ran cold. “What?!”

“They’ve been waiting for their moment,” Alain said, gripping his injured arm as he moved toward her. “I overheard one of them mentioning the king’s orders. We’ve been marked for elimination.”

Elysia felt the room spin for a moment before steadying herself.

Alain grabbed her shoulders, his grip firm but not harsh, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. “Listen to me. You need to get out of here. Right now. They’re not just after me—they’ll come for you too. I’ll buy you time, but you need to get out of here. You shouldn’t have to see this...”

Tears welled up in Elysia’s eyes as confusion and fear warred within her. “But... I thought you hated me! Why are you doing this for me?”

Alain’s expression softened for just a moment, a rare vulnerability breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. “Now’s not the best time for this, Elysia, but just know that all those times I was rude or mean to you were an act. You might not remember since you lost your memories, but we had a deal. I just wasn’t ever able to be with you without the walls listening in to our conversations. Please, just—”

The rest of his words were cut off by the sound of shattering glass.

Three figures dressed in black, their faces obscured by masks, swung into the room on ropes descending from the roof. The sharp crash of the window fragments scattering across the floor reverberated in the chamber. They landed silently, like shadows come to life, and drew their weapons with chilling precision.

Alain released Elysia and stepped in front of her, his sword already in his hand. The blade gleamed in the faint moonlight, a stark contrast to the dark figures closing in. His stance was resolute, a clear barrier between the assassins and his sister.

Elysia backed away, her heart hammering in her chest. The enormity of the situation was suffocating, but Alain’s words still echoed in her mind.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Go, Elysia!” he barked without turning to look at her. “Find the others. Stay alive!”

“But—”

“No buts! Run!”

The lead assassin lunged forward, his blade arcing toward Alain, who intercepted the strike with a sharp clang of steel. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed, and Alain countered with a swift riposte, forcing the attacker to retreat a step.

Elysia hesitated, torn between staying and helping or fleeing as Alain commanded. The sight of her brother fending off the assassins alone filled her with despair and a burgeoning sense of guilt.

“Elysia, please,” Alain said, his voice firm but with an undercurrent of desperation. “Don’t make my efforts meaningless. Just go!”

Before I could make a decision, the barricaded doors burst open, wood splintering as they exploded inward. Through the settling dust, a dagger whistled through the air with deadly precision. It struck me in the chest, lodging itself just below my heart.

Pain erupted through my body, and I fell to the floor, clutching at the blade as blood began to seep around it. My vision blurred, and my breaths grew shallow as I writhed in agony.

“ELYSIA!” Alain’s voice cracked with panic as he turned toward me, but his cry was cut short.

One of the assassins lunged forward, their blade piercing through Alain’s side. The sickening sound of metal slicing flesh filled the room. The assassin wrenched the blade free, and Alain staggered but remained standing, his body trembling with effort.

A guttural scream tore from his throat as he unleashed his power.

The air in the room became a storm of chaos, roaring winds picking up debris from the shattered door and the broken furniture. The pressure was immense, the force overwhelming. A heavy chunk of metal, dislodged when the door was breached, was hurled with deadly force, striking one assassin and caving in their skull.

Shards of wood from the splintered doors flew like stakes, impaling the remaining attackers. Blood sprayed across the walls and pooled on the floor, the room left in utter disarray.

The winds subsided, leaving only the sound of Alain’s ragged breathing and the faint clatter of falling debris.

He collapsed to his knees, coughing up hot blood as he dragged himself toward me. His movements were slow, each one accompanied by a pained grimace, but his determination never wavered. Tears welled in his green eyes, streaming down his face as he reached out to me.

“Elysia…” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I promised to protect you…”

I lay on the floor, clutching the dagger embedded in my chest, my own tears blurring the sight of my brother. The pain was excruciating, but the sight of him crawling toward me, his blood staining the floor in his wake, was far worse.

“I… I didn’t want you to see this…” Alain’s voice cracked as he finally reached me, his trembling hand brushing against my cheek. “I’m… so sorry…”

His strength faltered, and his body slumped beside mine, his breaths shallow and uneven.

“Alain, please,” I sobbed, gripping his hand tightly despite the searing pain in my chest. “Don’t leave me…”

His lips curved into a faint smile, filled with regret and love. “You… have to live… Elysia. For both of us… My precious little sister. My only sanctuary in this cold, brutal world… I hurt you so much. I should have told you everything when you lost your memories, but now… I’ve lost my chance.”

With those words, his eyes began to close, and his grip on my hand loosened. The room seemed to grow colder as the weight of his words settled over me.

“ALAIN!” I screamed, my voice breaking, but he didn’t respond.

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[Ire’s Mental State is Degrading]

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Desperation surged through me as I tightened my grip on the dagger still lodged in my chest. Every movement sent waves of pain crashing through my body, but I ignored it, mustering every ounce of strength I had left.

With a final heave, I dislodged the blade, and blood began to flow freely from the wound. Gritting my teeth, I pressed my trembling right hand to my chest. Channeling my mana, I focused on knitting the flesh together, sealing the wound and halting the bleeding. My vision wavered, but I couldn’t stop—not now.

Turning immediately to Alain’s motionless body, I crawled to his side, my hands trembling as I held him in my arms.

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[Requesting Permission to Intervene]

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“Alain! Alain! You can’t leave me like this!” I cried, my voice trembling as I searched for any sign of life. Pressing my fingers to his neck, I felt the faintest pulse. His heart still beat, but his breathing was shallow, and the blood pooling beneath him was spreading far too quickly.

I pressed my hands to his wounds, pouring all the mana I could muster into him. I focused on speeding up the healing process, willing his body to mend and his blood to regenerate faster than it was being lost.

“Stay with me, Alain,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “I won’t let you go. Not like this.”

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[Permison Recived]

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Mana surged through my hands, illuminating his injuries with a faint, shimmering glow. His wounds began to close, the bleeding slowing, but the strain on my body was immense. My vision blurred further, and I felt the edges of my consciousness fray as I gave everything I had to save him.

“Please…” My voice was barely audible as I continued, my determination unwavering despite my body’s protests.

One of the assassins, pinned to the floor by a wooden stake, let out a low, guttural groan. Blood seeped from their wounds, but sheer determination kept them alive. Their hand, trembling and slick with blood, inched toward the revolver holstered at their side.

With painstaking effort, they unbuckled the strap, fingers fumbling before finally drawing the weapon. Their eyes, glassy with pain, focused on the two figures in the room—the siblings clinging to one another.

The assassin’s thumb cocked the hammer back with a click, their arm trembling as they aimed at the pair.

“BANG.”

The sound shattered the fragile silence of the room.