The Hidden Heir's Love

Prologue II: Mirra

Mirra groaned the moment he gained back his consciousness. Loads of pain passed down on his system as he tried to move, debris was all over him. Upon opening his eyes, the darkness welcomed him and he could not possibly know where and what exactly is this place—other than the knowledge that it is below the shrine.

His hands went down to shove away the fallen debris by his lower body. Good thing he was not completely covered by them or he would take a great amount of time getting out from it. Inhaling dust, he started coughing to ease out his airway. He does not have more time to pay attention to how badly his head was hit nor was his body. He just went on with his task and try to decide on what he is going to do. Looking up, the sliver of light from the altar did not reach his spot now that he is deep below. He has to think of some way to have this place illuminated and he could only think of the glow that had been helping him since a while ago.

But he does not know exactly how to summon it.

He has to try though.

Closing his eyes, he waited for something to happen as he prayed silently to the gods. It is the only way to do it.

Miraculously, it worked.

Something hissed close to him which made him open his eyes to see what it is.

Fire.

Though small, it was enough for a starting point.

He crawled his way towards it and looked for something to ignite its flames. Grabbing a piece of wood, he rests it close to the fire—careful not to put it too close or else it would go off. He was extremely cautious when he moved his made-up torch left and right, looking around him. The debris piled up in great amount and fortunately, he was not covered by them immensely.

He grabbed a few pieces of wood with him in case there aren’t any more on where he will go, putting them under his arms. The pile of debris moves as he crawls down on it and he felt like his heart fell when he slips and slides down, bumping on concrete as he goes on. His body felt numb from all the pain he is getting.

When he finally stopped, he rolled over so he could lay his back and not have his face on the floor. Thankfully, the fire did not go off, or else it would be trouble for him all over again on how to acquire one. He stood up when he felt like he could finally move. He picked up the pieces of wood and brought them back under his arms. After that, he started to walk on, limping but he cannot feel anything down his legs. He was numb all over, to the point that he no longer feels fear as well.

There was only one way for him to take, the wall on either side of him simply tells that there is no other path. He moves his torch up, seeing how tall the wall is and his single light could not measure how far it goes. It is what it is since when his fall had been long and torturous—the pit was that deep. Thankfully, he is still alive after going through it.

"Where could you be?" he murmured as he ventured farther from the hole.

He was brought here for a reason. He believes that everything has a reason. He wouldn't have thought there is something below the shrine if he did not entertain the unusual sliver of light directed at something.

After a few minutes of walking, the path seemed to change since it becomes narrower. The air is growing thin and it is getting harder and harder for him to breathe.

He almost jumped when a line of torches on the wall ignited, giving him enough illumination to see what place he is actually in. It is a grand hall with its roof, like what he has assumed, was so high that the light no longer reaches it no matter how many torches are already lit.

He continued walking, looking left and right as he takes one step at a time. Finally, a door came into view and for once, he felt hopeful that he is getting closer than ever—that it must have been where Avanya's treasure is kept. He raised a hand to reach for the knob but before he could even go near, an invisible force had him thrown away, taking him far from it again.

He was heaving as he looked up at his distance to the door—far all over again.

Groaning, he pushed himself up again. This time, he slowly went towards the other end of the hall.

"Who dares enter the sacred ground of Thalius?" a voice echoed, resonating on the place before it dies down.

He cleared his throat before answering, "Mirra Morganov—son of Tobias Morganov and the Crown Prince of Sinag."

There was silence again.

And he thought his title could have scared the person off but it did not. For when he spoke, it sounds as if it was mocking.

"What is your purpose here, Crown Prince?"

He could not see anyone around nor feel any presence. It is as if it is by the walls, living there as a guardian of the place. This is the first time he has ever encountered something like this. On the other Ancients, he did not meet any guardians to pass through before he could acquire the treasures.

"I am here to collect something," he replied.

"Vague answer," the voice boomed. "State your purpose clearly, Crown Prince, or I will have to punish you for entering sacred grounds."

"I am here to collect the treasure of Avanya," he immediately said. "Her bow and arrow. The gods have given me their blessing and I wouldn't have reached this place if I do not have it, won't you agree?"

"The gods,” the voice uttered. “What is the sign they have given?"

"A bright glow," he answered confidently. "It was red."

There was silence again, this time, longer.

The wood he is holding had its flames close to his hand so he had to light up another that he has brought. He will not rely on the fire by the wall, lighting his path brighter since it may go off and he won't have anything to illuminate him again if he does not take good care of what he is holding.

"The prophecy has been told and yet all of you refuse to listen to it," the voice said angrily.

"What prophecy?" he asked but the other one did not answer.

Suddenly, the fire grew bright—lighting up above and revealing more of the writings he has seen on the altar a while ago. The writings covered the entire ceiling but no matter how large it is or how many, he could not understand any of them. His mouth parted, in pure disbelief at how every golden character glinted from the light.

"Entirety will be damned.

Reign of somber days shall follow.

Immaculate, thou shall not.

For as long as thou shall live, everyone awaits your advent."

He was struck and confused. He does not know what to do as the words echoed in his ears all over again. They sound threatening but he does not understand them, does not understand what they are trying to convey. Because if this is as any danger as it could get, why would the gods still urge him to come? Why would they give him a sign? Why would they still push him to continue despite the many obstacles he has been through? They brought him here with a purpose and a reason, therefore, he will push this no matter what.

He took one step at a time and the voice, finally, did not bother him anymore, comprehending that he will no longer be convinced to back away—because that mayhap his job, to keep people out so as to not retrieve anything in this place.

He reached for the knob but for the second time, he was thrown away—mistaken that he was left alone.

"Let me through," he said bravely. "You dare defy the will of the gods?"

"You are making a mistake."

"If I am then I will own it but if not, the gods will punish you for obstructing my way,” he hissed

He reached for the knob again and finally, it opened without him getting hurt all over.

And there it was.

Inside that very room is a stone coffin where a circle of fire is surrounding it. He most certainly knows that it is where Avanya lies. He can feel it in the air—the power lingering in that room.

He moved close, past the circle of fire and he is just thankful that it did not become violent whatsoever. Breathing deep, he reached for the lid and pushed it aside—revealing nothing but the bow and arrow, as well as the circlet on top from where Avanya's head used to lie. He bent down and grabbed them, sighing with relief that he has finally had what he has been searching for for so long.

He fell down on the floor—leaning on the stone coffin, feeling the exhaustion ruling over him. He was not thinking of how he would get out of this place yet or how he would go back to where the others are so they could return to Sinag together. He just wants to relish the moment of finally having the item he has been working hard on and mayhap taken some rest even for a while.

"Mirra."

His half-closed eyes immediately opened as he raised his head. The whisper was too near and clear that he was taken aback by it.

"Let me out."

He frowned, looking around the place, searching who it could possibly be. There was nothing else there but the stone coffin. The high ceiling does not have anything hanging from it nor was there anyone by the corners.

"Let me out, Mirra."

He froze, realizing where the whisper was actually coming from. He looks down at the items he is holding, singling out the circlet. Slowly, he takes it close to his ear and listened carefully.

"Mirra, let me out."

The voice was so clear and alarming that he was taken aback by it, his grip on the circlet loosened. His eyes widened when it fell. He tried to catch it, tried to save it from breaking into pieces.

But it was too late.

The jewel broke into bits, smoke whirling out from it.

He stared at it for a moment, surprised at what he has done.

And then there was chaos.

A voice broke—a woman's—laughing with mirth, echoing around the hall as he felt the ground shake and the atmosphere getting hotter and hotter that he was sweating profusely.

He was not expecting what happened next.

He was taken by the air, sent him flying and was moving fast—away from that place as it crumbled with his sight. The columns broke down, the high ceiling with its golden writings fall. His mouth parted as he watched everything get destroyed from the inside and when he got out, the shrine looked like it was never there before.

He cannot believe it.

He did not know exactly what happened. It happened so quickly that he failed to follow it through.

But he is certain his life is endangered—that something was out there to kill him. He unleashed something that was not meant to be taken out and he is scared beyond measure. He has seen before his eyes what it was capable of and he is frightened that it would go back to him.

"You need to eat, Mirra," his father—King Tobias Morganov of Sinag—said as he takes a spoonful of broth close to him.

"Father." His voice croaked. "We need more guards to keep on the lookout. I beg of you." He rocked himself, covering his ears since he hears the woman's voice so close to his ears even if there is no one else there but him and his father. "I did not destroy anything. I did not do it. It was not me. Please, leave me alone."

For once, his father could not do anything to save him. Even if he wants to, he could never help him. It was his own battle to deal with.

Until that day came.

His retribution came in all black.

It was darkness and danger.

Smoke was whirling on his back and his face shows no emotion.

"You have done something very wrong, Mirra," Nyxus said, his deep voice covering the ones that have been haunting his mind for so long. "You do know that right?"

"I did not do anything, please, please spare my life."

"You were obstructed a couple of times and still you continued. You destroyed my shrine and you did the most terrible thing letting somebody out that was not meant to be in this world."

His tears fell and his body was shaking as he looks at Nyxus who was staring blankly at him. The man’s face was frightening even if it is beautiful.

"Your actions have a great effect on humanity. You have endangered everyone. Everyone!"

He was too weak to answer, too scared to even move.

Nyxus came at him and suddenly grabbed his left arm. His vision blackened as pain crawled from his fingertips and all throughout his body. It was excruciating, to the point that he thought it was the end of it and mayhap that would be better off for him—to just die.

Unfortunately, the Ancient lets him go and when he looked down, he saw the markings on his skin. The swirl of ink was beautiful but if it comes from Nyxus—the Ancient who controls darkness and all its impurities—there is nothing better to come to it.

"Now, you wait," the man said before he vanished into smoke, leaving him still shaking from his appearance.

As the days passed, he was getting weaker, the ink getting lesser. And after a while of not understanding, he actually knew now what is happening.

He is going to die.

Slowly.

Painfully.

"Thank you, Father, for everything," he said, at that point, he can no longer feel anything.

Tobias looked down at him. His father's eyes were teary but his face still looked firm, he needs to be firm for the two of them. He looked down at his fingertips, seeing the last bit of ink slowly disappearing.

"Thank you."

Before his eyes fully closed, he saw a glow hovering over him—it was red just like what he saw before his life turned downhill.