The Emperor's Black Swan

Ep 1: The Demonic Wolf

Darilus's POV

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"Everything is fine," I say for the second time to my fiance. 

It is a lie.

Princess Tiana of the Corvere Kingdom looks at me as if I am dying. Her forehead creases in worried lines. I have to admit, her brown eyes are pretty. The honey-colored tone draws anyone to her, and her soothing voice can calm a raging storm. 

But not my storm. 

She doesn't know the darkness I possess. 

"Are you sure?" That's the second time she asks me that. 

It gets so tiring to force a smile and answer, "Of course."

"It's just," there she goes again, "you've been spacing out a lot lately, Darilus–" I give her a strong stare. Though we are betrothed, I haven't given her the opportunity to call my name. Before we wed, our statuses remain intact. She is a princess from a vessel kingdom. And I am the emperor, ruling over five kingdoms in the continent. 

I am the Emperor of Aluthia Empire. The largest territory on the continent. 

I have been the reigning monarch for a hundred and twelve years. Because of my Elven blood, my lifespan stretches beyond humans' capacity. And that's another thing why I haven't allowed Tiana, a human princess, to call me by my name. We are different by race and bridged by a large gap in age. 

Realizing her mistake, Tiana averts her eyes. I know she must be upset because, after two years of courting, I still make a line between us. But it is better for her to stay some distance from me. 

I don't want to hurt her. I have hurt so many before her.

"Forgive me," she says in a low voice, "Your Eminence."

I nod to her, approving her apology. "Please don't forget to respect my title, Princess," I say. I really dislike it when people call my name without permission. Only a few have that privilege, and right now, Tiana isn't one of them.

"Yes," she whispers. 

Suddenly our dinner tastes stale in my mouth. This meeting is just a formality in the first place. As we are betrothed, we need to meet at least once every summer. Tiana is staying in my palace currently. I was told that she sulked a bit when she found out her current room is placed in the west wing, far away from my own in the east wing. 

I did it for her safety. 

It would be hazardous for me if she finds out about my secret. 

I look at my hand. It might be my imagination, but I see my nails getting longer. I blink as the adrenaline kicks in my veins. Without thinking, I stand up abruptly. My velvety red chair almost falls behind me because of my sudden movement. 

Tiana and Polar, my butler, look at me in shock. My knights, who have been standing guard in the front room, trained to move in at the slightest bizarre sound, move in and stare at me. 

They all are looking at me, asking what is wrong with their eyes. They all want answers for me. Answers to why I have been acting strangely this past month. 

Answers that I can never give them. 

Answers that I am terrified to give to them.

I regain my composure and bow slightly to Princess Tiana. As a courtesy, she stands and curtsies. She has to curtsy lower than my bow. It is the rule. 

"Forgive me, Princess," I say briskly, "I will retire early this evening."

Tiana raises her face and asks me, "Is–Is it because I called you by your name?" She is not supposed to raise her head before me. So I give her another stern stare. 

She gasps as she realizes her mistake, then she lowers her head and body even lower than before. "F–forgive me, My Eminence."

"I'm just tired, Princess," I say coldly. She flinches at my words, but there is nothing that I can do. I need to get back to my room immediately. 

Before I transform.

When I straighten my back, she keeps curtsying still. I see her biting her lower lips. I know that her father, King Matius, has been pressuring her to speed up our wedding. My spies have even told me that the King ordered his daughter to come back home pregnant with my baby. 

I can understand the King's desire to be called the Empress' father. Being part of the Gratagan family raises one status tremendously, especially for a king from a small kingdom like Corvere. It comes with lower taxes, more influence, and various resources only the emperor's family could get. 

Also, because I am an Elven, I can live much longer than humans. So Matius has been pressuring his daughter to tie the bond with me before she gets too old. In Matius' eyes, I can easily move on to other females centuries later. 

In all honesty, if it isn't for the curse that the witch put me through, I wouldn't even consider marriage yet. I am still considered young for an elf. Most of my brethren only marry when they become a thousand years old. Another problem is that the Elven race has declined tremendously. Our females have it harder to give birth. That is why I chose a human bride. 

The curse leaves me with no choice. My time is running out. Before the darkness can take over, I plan to have an heir to continue the throne. 

I know I am supposed to take Tiana. She is a lovely girl, both in appearance and in manners. Politically, our marriage would strengthen the empire. 

Yet our conversations are dry and she seems to not have any other personality than trying to please others. So I always end up leaving first during our dinners. This time, it is for a good reason, though. I need to get away from her before she becomes my victim.

Her legs are wobbly because she has been curtsying for too long. I know she is thinking of words she could say to keep me. But before she could say anything, I turn and walk to the door. 

I hear her choked breath because of my Elven ears. When I pass by Polar, a bald human man, he looks at me as if saying I should have pitied the girl. But he understands my reasoning and so Polar opens the door for me to walk out to. Polar then orders the maids to take Tiana back to her room and cheer her up. 

The butler follows me for a while, keeping a respectful distance behind me. But he stops when we got to the last corridor on the east wing. A line made of red-painted words scrawl on the floor. I look back at Polar. His eyes show worry. 

I know it is sad for him every time he has to deliver me to this part of the castle. The loneliest and dreariest part. No one is allowed in this part of the castle after sundown except for me. I don't even let the maids clean the place. The tiles are broken at various places, molds and vines are showing in almost every pillar, the windows are dirty, and there are no candles in sight. 

"My Eminence–" Polar calls me with a broken voice.

"Darilus," I tell him, "You've been my friend for sixty years now. Call me Darilus."

Polar's eyes glistened. I have to clench my fists so hard behind my back to keep a smiling face. 

It gets tiring to have to repeat, "I'm fine," when you don't mean it at all. But I really don't want Polar to worry about me. He has spent almost his life taking care of me. He was my personal knight when I was a young Emperor. Then he retired and became my butler. 

Polar bows deeply in front of me. I know he is hiding his tears. We promised each other long ago to never cry over each other. Not even if one of us dies. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

It gets really tiring.

"Come on, Polar," I force a cheery tone out of me, "It's nothing new. I'll be back by sunrise. Keep my empire safe until then."

As I can't hold myself any longer, I turn and walk up the stairs at the end of the corridor. I don't dare to take another look at Polar. 

I climb the stairs until I reach the thirteenth floor. It is on purpose to have my room on the highest floor so that when I transform, it will be harder for me to hurt anyone. 

I manage to get to the fifth floor when my breathing becomes heavy. My vision swims before me and sweats pour out of me. I know this feeling too well. And I hate it with every ounce of my being.

Before, the transformation only happens to me once a year. With passing time, it becomes once in a fortnight. And starting this month, it has become my every night routine. 

The transformation always brings unbearable pain. Especially when my spines are being bent and broken multiple times. I keep climbing.

I must climb faster before I lose consciousness. 

Without rest, I drag myself to the last floor and enter the only room at the edge of the corridor. A pungent smell of blood and carcass wafted to my nostrils. It makes me want to puke. 

Once I get inside the room, I lock the door. All nine sets of locks, forged by the finest locksmith in the empire. I cry out as I hear the cracking sound of my spine. Gritting my teeth, I then close the second door and turn another ten sets of keys to lock. 

I hear another cracking sound. I scream as I fall down on the hard floor. My feet have just been twisted and bent at awkward angles. Crawling to my bed, I have no time to register the pain I feel radiating all over my body. 

My royal suits, tailored by the finest tailor in the empire, have been torn to shreds. My crown has fallen to the floor hard. 

Quickly, I put on the iron shackles tied to the bed, to both of my feet. Then I put another shackle on my arm. And on the other arm. The chains binding the shackles are made so that the wearer can put them on like a bracelet, but only someone with the key can open the shackles. It is a magical chain. And only Bifta, my general and war advisor, can free me of these chains. 

I can only breathe once I secure the chains on all of my limbs. I finally let the pain register in my mind and scream my lungs out when my flesh and skin are being forced to change. I scream and scream like a madman to the ceiling of my room. I stare at the Goddess' painting above me and curse her in my scream. 

A few seconds later, my scream turns into a howl. My vision changes color and I feel very thirsty. 

Enormous strength course through my entire body. All I can feel is the thirst. 

The thirst for fresh blood. 

I snarl at the Goddess' painting, but it isn't me who moves my mouth. My consciousness has been moved to the furthest part of my body. 

Something else has transformed and taken over me. 

Something dark and full of blood lust. 

My tongue moves not according to my will to lick my muzzle. "You always try to keep me hidden, Emperor. But I'm getting stronger while you are getting weaker."

I howl again as night has finally settled in the sky. 

I have turned into the demonic wolf that has been infesting my body. When sundown comes, the demon takes the reign.

I keep wondering how this all started, and why it happened. I was young and naïve. The empire was ruled by an elven tyrant who had reigned for over five centuries. Taxes were set at absurd rates, crimes were at their peak, and the empire was on the verge of breaking apart. I knew someone had to take down the previous emperor. But that tyrant had powerful magic.

So, I made a deal with the Dark Witch. She took away the emperor's magic in exchange for her to plant a demonic wolf inside me. Because of that, I took down the previous Emperor and united the empire under me.

I was prideful and underestimated the power of the demonic wolf. A hundred and twelve years ago, it was just a pup. Now it has grown into a full wolf and it is getting stronger day by day.

It turns out that it wasn't the only curse left by the Dark Witch to me. One by one, my people are turning into animals in the east wing garden. The public knows it as a bizarre increase in missing person cases. And I keep pretending that I will bring justice to the culprit.

But the truth is...

I am the villain. 

Because once, the demon took over my body, and it feasted on the animals in the east wing garden. At first, I didn't know that those animals were my people. I only knew in the morning afterward when I found myself laying among their human bodies. Unlike me, who can turn back to my Elven form by sunrise, my people who find themselves as animals are stuck in that form. They will only change back into humans when they die. Why the Dark Witch put such curse... we do not know.

Because of that one nightmare of a morning, I increased the locks and chains in my room. I couldn't put knights to protect the animals in the east wing garden because I don't want to increase my victim count. I have killed my own knights and even hurt Bifta before. Yet Bifta persists to be on guard in the garden. If she sees me in my demonic wolf form, I have given her permission to shoot me. 

"These chains and locks will not keep me, Elf," the demon roars with my mouth. 

Deep down, I am heavily terrified that the demon is right.

Sometimes I wonder if I should have just killed myself when I got the chance during the day.

"You are too much of a coward for that, Elf," the demon says, "You make your people see you as a brave soul. But you are the fakest person ever!"

Deep down...

I know the demon is right.

The demon roar loudly. It yanks on the chains time and time again. Whenever I think it will give up, it doesn't. I don't even know where does it gets its energy to keep struggling when the original body is mine.

Until suddenly, the demon pulls on the chains on its arms, and the bedframe takes off from the rest of the bed.

No. Fear creeps inside me as I watch the demon tear apart the wooden board. Now its hands are free to move despite the chains still mangled on its wrists.

It tears apart another wood from the bed to free the chains on its legs.

No!!

Then it stares at the double-locked doors.

I try to calm down. The locks are made with magic. It cannot be opened without Bifta's or my fingerprints. The doors are from heavy irons, too. Even a demon would not be able to break through the door.

I remind myself to breathe inside the furthest recess of my consciousness. I just need to hold on until sunrise, when the demon will go away. It never stays or transforms in daylight.

But the demon seems to have heard my inner thought. It looks at the only window in the room.

My heart stops immediately because I forgot to secure the locks in the windows. I pray to the Goddess, hoping she would answer me at least this time that the window would be closed.

The demon creeps closer to the small square on the stone wall. Just like the door, an iron wall covered the window.

I almost can't breathe when I see the locks are not in their proper places. The demon opens the iron door easily with his long black claws, revealing a small glass pane.

No. No. No. NO. NO!

The demon takes several steps back. It grins madly, mocking me, who is helpless in this form.

Then it dashes toward the window. Its body crashes onto the glass and the next thing I know, we are flying in the air.

A full moon is in place tonight. But all I see is a red-colored moon as we both dive thirteen floors to the ground. The demon grabs a tree branch to halt our drop.

I hope we crash and die. Please, Goddess, kill us instead.

But of course, the demon lands perfectly on the ground. Smoke rises from its paws because of the friction.

It sniffs the air several times and smiles. "You've tried to keep me locked for two weeks now, Elf," it says, "I smell some newcomers in our feast garden. And that female general of yours hasn't learned her lesson, has she?"

It licks its muzzle while I shudder in horror.

The next second, it runs at lightning speed towards the garden. I can feel its adrenaline and excitement.

The demon always loves the hunt. It loves to see how broken I will be by the morning.

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Copyright @ Karasmara / Dreame / Stary. Any illegal reproduction of this content will result in immediate legal action.