"May I ask," started Kaden as he strolled down the aisle, hands in his pockets. "Why my name was called last?"

Kaden Alluin Chauvet. His was one that should've been called near the beginning.

The professor offered an apologetic smile. "In all honesty, Kaden, I was asked not to give you the opportunity to have this experience. I was told you would be unwilling."

"I'm more than willing."

"And I am more than happy to hear that." laughed Raymond joyously, as he gestured to the bowl of dark water. "I was certain you'd be able to make your own decision, and refused the request. I do think I may have angered them, just a little."

Raymond continued without a care, fearless.

Kaden had always admired that aspect of the professor, in the way he couldn't be defined nor controlled, moving to the beat of his own passionate drum.

The man laughed lightly in response, serene and soft, hiding daggers in each rise of his voice.

He took a step forward, lowering his rich emerald stare at the water as he slowly approached, imagining the coldness spread through his fingers.

A tickling chill that would creep bit by bit, spreading along his arm, and then his entire body. The sensation of frostbite in winter, when his skin remained bare and exposed to the snow that melted and froze over him.

The tip of his fingers brushed the water.

And darkness consumed the entire room, swallowing all light and purity that was inside. Pitch droplets sprinted up his arms, spreading across the floor.

He stepped back in blank surprise.

If Noah's blessing had been fascinating chaos, his was a terror filled confusion.

Smiles—white, broad teeth—were painted across the walls as if hastily scribbled by chalk, hands lunging and crawling on the floor, seeking out their next victims. A jingle sounded in his ears, laughter dancing across the corners, up and around.

There were colours, so many colours. The deepest blues fighting the black, fiery red that joined in the battle.

Kaden's feet were nailed to the ground. He could only watch as something reached for him before his eyes.

A pale, bloody arm cupped his cheek, attached to the blurry silhouette of a woman that smiled gently at him.

If she had eyes, there would only be love and affection, no doubt. He could recognize her from the very shape, the one who drove him to insanity, when any glimpses of morals or kindness shattered him like glass.

Rosa Alexandra Chauvet.

The run-away princess, the one whose name was written in the late King's will. The rightful heir to the throne, and the King sought her demise.

She had run away in hopes that her brother would learn to move on without fear of her stealing his power, but it only further ruined the paranoid man.

When they'd first met, Kaden hadn't known who she was.

'Dear, you are bleeding all over! Stay still, sweet child, let me tend to your wounds.'

How kind she was, how she treated his injuries with delicate care, as if handling something precious.

He'd felt human in her motherly embrace.

The way life shone in her eyes, undying and ever burning, while she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead as he sat, limp and numb, perplexed. A child that had never been shown affection caught a glimpse of it that day.

She'd shown care to a thief who'd seek out her life, one day.

There was a secret love story between her and the Grand Duke hidden under the curtain of night, unknown by all.

They would've gotten married one day, under the lapping warmth of the cheerful sun, blessed by the skies and heavens. She would've been happy, free where she belonged.

No longer hiding.

Kaden remembered the way the Duke looked at her while she tended to him, affection dripping in those eyes, completely undone.

And then, the King discovered this secret.

Tortured out of Kaden, who'd foolishly come back to tell him of the wonderful lady, beauty more fascinating than nature itself. He was ordered to kill her, his saviour. And the boy had refused.

He was locked up in the room where no lights reached for several months.

Begging. Pleading. Losing his mind and innocence as corruption swallowed him whole. The child, barely old enough to comprehend his future or ill responsibility, succumbed to command.

It was at that time Reed had learned of his ability to cast curses, and a mark was burned into Kaden's thin skin.

'Please let me go. Please, please, please.' He'd cried, kneeling at the King's feet.

The innocent boy committed his first murder in the dead of the night, clumsy and messy as the Duke watched in horror.

The man swore to drag down the royal family one day, starting at Kaden—a foolish child who ran away in a clamour of apologizes, too scared to look back.

Rosa tried to save him; he killed her. Betrayed her. Ended her.

Kaden stepped back, wide-eyed. "You are not her." He would not fall victim to the illusions, even as they wrapped around him in a choking vice. His voice trembled, uncertain, and a laugh forced out of his unwilling lungs, breathless. "I killed her."

And even if he'd turned back on time, it wasn't enough to change the fact that Rosa was dead.

The sinner would never forget that.

He threw his head back at the peering abyss that surrounded, mind growing blank and dazed.

Were the hands stretching to him, willing him back into the hell that awaited? He spread his arms out, welcoming the curse.

Did even the Watchers make a mockery of him?

"Wake up, Chauvet!" roared a voice, ripping him from his sinking thoughts as he snapped his arm away from the water, blinking rapidly as the sensations returned to his body.

He gasped, doubling over and coughing.

Something was holding onto his arm in a painful grip, preventing him from falling. The black was chased away from the walls it clung to, everything returning to how it once was, though disorder was still left in the room.

All eyes were on him.

Dozens and dozens, watching, judging with a harshness even more terrible than before. Stares, he thought again, were terrifying things of misjudgment and assumption. In the screen of another's sight, he was nothing more than entertainment.

Wrenching his arm away from Noah's grasp, Kaden laughed harshly. "Well, wasn't that quite the spectacle?"

"Is it humorous to you?" wondered Noah, still standing where he'd been.

"Didn't you enjoy the show I put on?"

"Did you?"

Kaden thought he'd drown in that questioning gaze; it was unforgiving and watching, seeing through more than the man was willing to show.

 At that moment, the door burst open.