This castle stood as a grim sentinel in the Highlands, a fortress of stone and iron imposed upon conquered lands.
Once an ancient, sacred stronghold of the Highlanders, it had been transford into a Vandorian outpost after Manu’s forces took control. The high, vaulted ceilings were lit by cold torchlight, casting jagged shadows against the tapestries that adorned the walls.
Each tapestry was a scene of Vandorian conquest: soldiers in dark armor stood triumphant over fallen Highlanders, their banners hoisted high, marked by the six-winged white serpent.
In one mural, a Highland chieftain knelt, hands bound, his face twisted with anguish while Vandorian soldiers lood around him, smirking as they raised their blades. Another tapestry depicted the lush lands of the Highlands set ablaze, with the once-colorful skies darkened by thick smoke. It was a brutal homage to Vandorian might, each stitch a reminder of the pain inflicted on these lands.
Of course, this was all history that had been rewritten as Manu wished for it to be. Making it seem like he had conquered the Highlands and not Chiron.
In the dim light of his throne room, Manu reclined in a high-backed chair, waiting as his guards dragged the Highland priestess before him.
A hush fell over the hall as she entered, her regal poise unshaken despite her chains. Her piercing gaze burned with silent rage as it t his, and though she did not speak out of turn, her expression conveyed a deep and unbroken defiance.
Manu t her gaze with an almost amused detachnt. He took careful note of her hatred, of the disgust that simred behind her clenched jaw, but he did not address it.
He understood, after all, that her resentnt was likely not only directed at him but also at the body he inhabited—that of Chiron, a na that was very reviled among her people.
Chiron had committed atrocities against the Highlanders, seizing their lands, destroying their traditions, breaking their spirits by destroyingthe literal atmospherein this place. It was enough to curse him for eternity.
Yet, to Manu, such matters were re trivialities.
In his mind, Manu saw no need to justify himself to the conquered.
If Chiron’s cris against her people were driven by a lust for power, then Manu considered himself all the more ruthless, for he sought domination for its own sake—for his amusent.
"Priestess," he drawled, his voice low and chilling, "welco to my domain."
"It’s my land, I should be the one welcoming you. Sadly, you are not welcod here, nor ever will be." She replied.
Manu was not offended by her reply.
Manu waved a dismissive hand, and the guards—despite their palpable fear, slightly shaking in their boots at Manu’s presence—hastily exited the room, leaving only him and the Highland priestess in the shadow-filled hall. He approached her slowly, a predatory gleam in his eye, his movents exuding a calm but deadly grace. As he drew closer, he offered her a smile that held no warmth.
"I’ll make this quick," he said, his tone smooth but nacing. "Unless you decide to make it painful." His gaze hardened. "If anyone knows the secrets of this land, it’s you. Sacred knowledge is passed down, priestess to priestess. Tell …" His voice dropped as he moved in a sudden blur, appearing right before her. His hand shot out, clasping around her neck, and he lifted her with ease. "Where is the Guardian Token of this continent?"
The priestess gasped, her breath cut off as his fingers dug into her throat. She struggled against his grip, her face contorting in agony, but her silence held for a long, defiant mont. When he finally released her, she crumpled to the floor, coughing, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face.
But as she gathered herself, her eyes locked onto his, brimming with hatred. Her voice was low and trembling with rage as she spoke, "Do you mock ? Do you mock us? Or have you forgotten your hand in this ruin? The suffering you caused?"
Manu’s expression shifted, a faint frown etching across his face. He had absorbed all of Chiron’s mories upon taking over this body, including fragnts from Chiron’s past life. But the exact details of that fateful day in the Highlands remained strangely blurred. He recalled the victory, the land’s subjugation, but sothing vital felt shrouded, hidden in a fog that clouded the full story. He had co to the priestess precisely because of that doubt, seeking clarity. After all, he was certain that Chiron’s tortured soul held no secrets from him; the very essence of the man he had overtaken was laid bare, stripped of any pretense or deceit.
And yet, sothing vital eluded him.
"Tell ," he demanded, his voice cold and sharp. "What happened here that day?"
"What happened!? You really ask that?" She looked at him in confusion.
She had long heard that Chiron had taken over the kingdom and now called himself manu madayaki, discarding his old na, but now that she looked at him, she sensed sothing different... it was foreign.
Maybe it was because she was a godchild, touched by the hods and that was why she was extra sensitive to it or maybe it was plainly because after that day, the aura gids had not entirely deserted her.
But now as she looked at him, a lingering power from her heritage sparked inside her and her eyes were given the opportunity to see beyond the ordinary.
She imdiately held back her scream at the vile evil within Chiron’s body that she had just seen, including Chiron’s soul in a thousand snake chains.
Manu smirked, "hmmm, you took a peek. You are a god child after all, so that much is expected. Now, tell what i need to know."
The priestess backed away a bit, but she knew she had to talk.
Chiron was evil, but at least power was his purpose. This one, Manu, only destruction brought him vile satisfaction....
[Authors note: What do you think Chiron did...?]
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