Slap!!!
The sharp sound of her hand eting his cheek echoed in the room.
Caspian's small fra jolted from the force of the blow, his head snapping to the side.
A thin trail of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Valtira watched him carefully.
'He seems so fragile… Two slaps, and he looks like he's already on the verge of collapse.' Valtira frowned, her hand lingering in the air.
'But that aura… it's unmistakable. The weight of countless deaths clings to him. No ordinary child could carry that. There has to be more to him than ets the eye.'
"Hey," she said. "I'm asking you one last ti. Who are you?"
Caspian, slumped in the chair, slowly lifted his gaze.
His Red eyes burned with an intensity that made Valtira falter for just a mont.
"You're asking who I am?" His voice was low, shaking slightly— not from fear.
"You think slapping around will give you answers?"
Valtira said nothing, waiting.
Caspian's lips curled into a bitter smile, blood staining his teeth.
"I'll tell you who I am. I'm soone who's never killed a single soul in my life. Soone who doesn't even have the strength to fight back against. and nor the power to kill soone."
Her eyes narrowed further.
"Lies. The aura you carry says otherwise. Do you think I can't see through your facade?"
Caspian's fists clenched tightly in his lap, his nails digging into his palms.
His voice grew colder.
"You hit because I'm weak, don't you? If I were stronger—if I were soone who could stand on equal ground with you—would you still dare to treat like this?"
He exhaled shakily, his frustration mounting.
NO MORE.
NO MORE OF THIS.
A storm brewed within him, and his thoughts raced, venomous and unrelenting.
Am I weak?
Is that why this keeps happening?
Is that why people think they can trample over ?
Because I don't have the strength to make them stop?
The room seed to grow colder as his resolve solidified.
Never again.
I won't let anyone look down on .
I won't let anyone hit without facing the consequences.
I'll rise. I'll make sure no one ever dares to strike again.
He glared at Valtira, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.
"I don't know what you think I've done, but I'm not the monster you're imagining. I'm not your enemy. But if you keep pushing —"
His words cut off.
For a brief mont, Valtira hesitated.
'Did I make a mistake?' she wondered.
The boy's aura was undeniable—she could feel the weight of countless deaths radiating from him.
But his words, his defiance, made her second-guess herself.
'No,' she told herself.
That aura is real. No one could fake that. This boy… there's sothing dangerous about him.
"Tell the truth," she demanded again.
"What are you hiding?"
Caspian's jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his silence as cutting as any response he could have given.
'Why is she saying I have an aura of death?' Caspian thought, his frustration bubbling.
His gaze shifted downward, trying to make sense of the situation.
Then, like a thunderclap, the realization struck him.
{I also think so,} Bloodmoon's said.
Caspian's eyes snapped up.
"Hey!" he called sharply.
Valtira turned, her ash-grey eyes locking onto his.
For the first ti, her confident deanor flickered with unease.
"Yes?"
The air around Caspian shifted as he lifted his hand, palm open.
A mont later, a blade began materializing out of thin air.
It wasn't an ordinary weapon; its crimson edges shimred faintly, as though it pulsed with life.
A dark, heavy aura surrounded it, suffocating and unrelenting.
Valtira's breath caught in her throat.
Her senses scread at her, every instinct urging her to take a step back.
This weapon—it was unlike anything she had ever encountered.
"What the…?" she muttered.
Her hands instinctively curled into fists, her sharp gaze fixated on the blade.
That's where the death aura is coming from.
But what in the world is it?
"This," Caspian said, "is Bloodmoon. My sword. It has a soul of its own and is rged with mine. That aura you're sensing? It's not . It's this."
The weight of realization hit Valtira like a tidal wave.
Her eyes widened.
I think he is telling the truth the death aura is shifted to the sword.
So it's his sword and—
I accused him of murder, beat him, and all the while, it wasn't him…
Her fists unclenched, and she exhaled slowly, her mind racing.
Valtira dropped to one knee, bowing her head low.
"I… I was wrong," she said, "Caspian, I made a grave mistake. I should have sought the truth before acting. My actions were cruel and unjustifiable. Please… forgive ."
Caspian stared at her, his expression blank.
The corner of his mouth still held traces of dried blood, a reminder of her earlier strikes.
He said nothing for a long mont.
"I don't care for apologies," he said finally, his voice cold and distant.
"What's done is done. You judged without reason, without proof. You hit because you could."
Valtira flinched as if his words had struck her.
Caspian stood, his posture rigid.
He turned his back on her without a second glance.
"You want forgiveness? Earn it. But don't expect to forget."
He walked toward the exit.
Valtira remained kneeling.
I am sorry child.
Caspian paused near the door.
"Where's my driver?" he asked.
"He's in the parking lot of this building. You can find him there."
Caspian turned, taking a step toward the exit, but paused as if sothing else had co to mind.
"And one more thing," he said.
"What is it?" Valtira asked.
He hesitated.
His eyes flicked back toward her for a mont before he shook his head.
"Never mind," he muttered.
As he pushed open the door, a faint, almost inaudible laugh escaped his lips.
"Justice," he murmured to himself. "Kill your father…"
The words were spoken so quietly.
Valtira's head snapped up.
Her ash-grey eyes narrowed as her frown deepened.
"What did you just say?" Valtira asked.
But Caspian didn't answer.
He was already stepping into the hallway.
The weight of his words lingered in the air, gnawing at Valtira's mind.
Kill your father… What could he possibly an by that?
She couldn't let it go.
She wouldn't.
Her instincts kicked in as she sprinted after him.
"Stop!" she called, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around to face her.
Caspian's expression remained calm.
"What did you just say?" Valtira demanded.
"Nothing," Caspian replied.
Valtira's grip tightened slightly. Her eyes searched his face for any sign of deceit, but his impassive expression offered her no answers.
"Caspian," she said, "don't play gas with . Tell what you ant."
He pulled his shoulder free from her grip and t her gaze.
"I said... nothing."
Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing frozen in the hallway, her thoughts swirling.
Kill your father... The words echoed in her mind, carrying a weight that she couldn't shake. What does he know? Why it feels like he is mocking ?
Valtira clenched her fists, the unease in her chest growing stronger.
Who is this boy?
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