Ah…
Why does my head hurt so much?
Theo felt a violent, throbbing pain at his temples, as if his skull was about to crack. He let out a soft moan, trying to rub his face, but his arms felt incredibly heavy, as if weighed down by an invisible burden.
What's happening? I can't move my body at all!
A sudden panic seized him. He tried to push his body up, but from the tips of his hair to the tips of his toes, his muscles refused to obey. All he could manage was to tilt his head a few centimeters, just enough for his dizzy, blurry eyes to scan his surroundings.
Damn, it must be because I stayed up all night, he thought, trying to find a rational reason, though his instinct told him this was different.
His weak right hand began to grope feebly over the surface he was lying on. His limp touch felt fabric that was extremely smooth and soft.
Since when was my mattress this luxurious? he wondered, his confusion growing.
Then, unknown fragrances began to assail his nose. The scent was sharp and intoxicating, adding to his dizziness.
Finally, after being forced to inhale the strange fragrance, Theo's eyes slowly opened, struggling against the headache and blurry vision.
What he saw made his heart pound wildly.
He was lying in a room completely foreign to him. The room was spacious and magnificent, with walls of dark grey stone carved with intricate reliefs of winged creatures and crescent moon symbols. To the right, a large stained-glass window allowed moonlight to slip in, projecting patterns of dancing purple and silver light across the room. Two moons—one large and silvery, another smaller with a purple glow—were clearly visible through the glass.
"Wh... where am I?" he murmured softly, almost inaudibly. His head was still throbbing. "Why am I here?"
There was no answer. This place looked majestic and ancient, like a castle from a fairy tale. Oh, I must be hallucinating, he thought.
But then, he heard footsteps. The sound of shoes touching the stone floor in an unsteady, staggering rhythm, approaching from behind his door. Theo tried to tilt his head, but the pain and weakness were too overwhelming. Help… he pleaded in his heart, to no one in particular.
The door to the room was pushed open roughly.
The figure that appeared made him gasp. It turned out the approaching figure was a woman. A woman who was incredibly beautiful, yet looked disheveled. Her jet-black hair was a mess, covering part of her perfectly pale face. Her eyes, a deep purple—like the color of the second moon outside the window—looked dazed, empty, and glassy. Her luxurious red gown looked tattered, and a strong aroma of wine accompanied her, mixed with the floral scent he had noticed earlier.
But her expression… that was the most piercing thing. Behind the drunkenness, there were tears streaming down her face, accompanied by a bitter smile.
However, Theo was too tired. His confused mind and paralyzed body made him resign himself. Ah, whatever… Theo paid the woman no mind. He knew a woman that beautiful would never approach him. This must be a dream, right? I can't take any more.
With a clumsy movement, the woman climbed onto the bed. Theo could feel her light yet definite weight pressing down on his weak body. I've had enough burdens on my mind, what is she doing?
Before he could think anything else, the woman brought her face close. Her deep purple gaze was clear even though Theo's vision was still blurry.
Her hand touched Theo's chin, forcing his mouth open slowly. Then, without a single word, she bowed her head.
Her cold, wine-scented lips sealed his mouth hard.
Theo froze. The world seemed to stop turning. It was a kiss, but it felt like an attack—a forced desperation, a spilled sadness. He could taste the bitter wine and salty tears flooding his senses.
And then, something else flowed through.
Through that touch, through the despair that united them, fragments of foreign memories flooded his already chaotic mind. Like a film playing rapidly and chaotically, images appeared.
Nova, age seventeen.
Hah, who? Theo wondered in confusion, but his question was immediately drowned by a stronger, clearer wave of memories.
A young man with a pale face, disheveled blond hair, and faded green eyes that were always cast downward in resignation. That was Nova. The memories came with a feeling of deep lethargy and resignation, as if his life was destined for suffering.
Then, the scene changed. The next wave of memories forced him to witness a scene that made his heart ache.
Nova's father stood in front of a fireplace, his back bent. His hand was clutching a jingling bag of coins tightly.
Nova saw his own body being dragged by an unfamiliar person into an armored horse-drawn carriage. Through the carriage window, he saw his father standing stiffly, staring at him with a hollow face, while tightly clutching the coins he had just received.
A bitter, cutting realization, not from Theo, but from the remnants of Nova's original soul, echoed in his mind: I... was sold?