In the entire history of the novel Bloody Callia, the author made only one mistake. But it was the one that brought the most fatal consequences for him.
Naly, one character accidentally learned the truth. The truth that he, like the rest of this world, is not real.
Henry Ashford had suspected wrong since childhood. Born long before the main events of the novel — the world around him was not as thoroughly worked out as the main characters. Even as a child, the boy unwittingly noticed that the characters of the people around him were too superficial, and the events were shallow and as if they had no significance.
Even the children who mocked him did so by instinct and in an always predictable way. It was as if the cards were playing out a pre-planned scenario.
And the older Henry got, the more he noticed these oddities.
At tis it seed that it was all just imagination and he was imagining things. With all his might, the boy tried to ignore it and live his life.
Until one day…
he had a dream. A dream about what would happen in this world in the future.
How his granddaughter would beco an empire-wide heroine. Everyone around will know her na — and the girl herself will overthrow her father's treacherous brother and beco ruler. Then will begin a great era for the Empire of Azeroth.
This entire world has lived and evolved only for this mont. For the true protagonist to change it for the better. While everyone else… Needed only for background.
This dream was too realistic to be ordinary. It was as if Henry saw everything with his own eyes--including his own grave in the Ashford family crypt.
At the very end, the main character went there to honor her mother. And her grandfather's grave was located very close by… In the end that is its finale.
The finale of the heroine's lowly ancestor from the past. Who was of no importance to the world… Unnecessary ballast like the rest of the crowd.
So Henry Ashford beca the first man who managed to «wake up». But he soon regretted it. For this conjecture… Almost drove him mad.
As a child to learn such a truth about his own existence — it was incredibly cruel. The thirteen-year-old boy's first impulse was even to end his life.
«I'm garbage…! Just a useless piece of cardboard!»
When his life was hard enough as it was, this was added to his basic misery. Even a grown man would have found it hard to cope. And now Henry didn't know why he should live at all.
What was the point if none of this was real…? What's more, the boy could never even see the real world with his own eyes…
It was like being locked in a cage with the others — and only knowing that you were in it. In such a situation, it beca very easy to lose your mind.
Through his dreams Henry tried to contact the author of the novel: begged to be let out of this trap. He did not want to live among this falsehood and puppets that do not even have a will of their own…!
These dreams soon turned into real nightmares for the woman. However, she refused to help him. And then the boy… Decided to do everything himself.
One day he once again awoke from a nightmare. Sitting on the bed, he was covered in sweat. In the reflection of the mirror, a pale child with frightened eyes looked at him.
How he was tired of putting up with it all!
Such an existence was worse than torture. If Henry could turn back ti — it would be better to stay in the dark with the others. But it was too late to understand.
Once awakened, there was no turning back.
And then Henry Ashford made the most fateful decision of his life.
— I've had enough…! — he shouted across the room.
This ti his fists were no longer clenched in despair, but in anger. Henry cursed the fate that had condemned him to such a life.
And if the world around him couldn't change… Then he would change it himself.
In the reflection, it was as if another man was looking at the boy. A cold, penetrating look. The erstwhile son of the Archduke was no more.
«If I am condemned to be here for the rest of my days… I will at least make this world my own!»
So trapped in the plot, the character — began to devise a plan to conquer it.
***
It was raining heavily in the city that day.
The thunderstorm hadn't stopped for hours. The locals quickly hid in their hos, for the storm was to be no an one.
At Ashford Manor, all the rooms were dark. The threatening sound of lightning was heard outside the windows. Even the servants were afraid to leave their rooms.
Such a violent storm had not been seen in the last twenty years. The Archduke, however, was not the least bit concerned.
As usual he sat on the floor of his own chambers drinking rum. William Ashford was on his daily binge.
When this happened he would lock himself in his room and not co out for weeks. All the servants had long since beco accustod to it and did not bother him.
This ti, however, there was a knock at the door.
William did not hear it at once — for he himself could hardly remain conscious. It was not until a few minutes later that he heard his son's voice:
— Father?
The man smiled drunkenly.
— Henry, son… Don't wait, co quickly.
Henry Ashford entered the room and closed the door behind him.
— Have you co to see your father? — He hiccupped. «You don't seem to have co to see for a long ti.
The expression on the boy's face remained impenetrable.
— You're wet,» the man remarked belatedly.
Henry did not answer again, and only clenched his fists. William Ashford was not a tyrant. Even when drunk he remained kind and never hit his son.
He just… Didn't care for him.
William took an occasional interest in Henry's affairs. And only when there was no other topic of conversation. Even if the boy ran away from ho for a few days, his father would not notice.
Even this ti he didn't care — when his own son was away for a long ti in a storm. He didn't even think to send n after him.
That's what Henry hated him most of all. Better hatred than total indifference.
The Archduke muttered sothing else inaudible, but Henry was not listening. He slowly approached his father — taking a porcelain statuette from the nightstand.
— Son, I'm thirsty… Give a glass of water…
The man's eyes were clouded and he could hardly think. He didn't notice how the boy was beside him.
Henry looked at him coldly.
This man was his father. And at the sa ti… Just as unnecessary trash. Was it worth it to pity a man who was not real?
— Father,» the boy said quietly, «Now I'll give you what you need.
With these words Henry held the statue over him.
«You're just an extra. So what difference does it make whether you're alive or not? I can do anything to you…»
And the mont William continued into oblivion, the boy struck him and smashed his head in. His hands were stained with scarlet blood.
The Archduke's corpse collapsed on the floor, bleeding to death. But Henry stared blankly at the scene. He did what he had longed to do.
Sacrificing a useless father for a great cause… Sounded like the best ending for him.
Henry took the head of the house badge off his shirt and took it for himself. And in the next second, tears ca to his eyes, rehearsed in advance.
The boy ran out of the chambers screaming:
— Help…! My father has been attacked by murderers!!!
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