Time lost meaning in the abyss.  

He did not know how long he had been trapped there. There was no day or night, no beginning or end—only the endless weight of darkness pressing down on Avaxion like a suffocating blanket. It smothered every flicker of hope before it could fully form. No matter how far his mind drifted, the emptiness followed, vast and endless, offering no escape.  

Guilt coiled around him like a serpent, its fangs sunk deep into his soul. It whispered to him constantly, never letting him forget the truth he could not escape.  

He had killed his mother.  

The truth twisted endlessly in his mind, relentless and unforgiving. Every memory of her gentle smile, every trace of her warmth, warped into a cruel reminder of what he had lost—and what he could never atone for.  

"You're a monster," the darkness hissed.

Its voice did not come from one place. It echoed from everywhere and nowhere, seeping into the very core of his being.  

"You don't deserve joy. You don't deserve love."

Avaxion tried to shut it out, but there were no ears to cover, no eyes to close. 

"Just give up," it continued, its tone almost soothing. "Surrender your power, and you won't have to suffer anymore."  

The words twisted through him like poison, slipping through the cracks of his fractured spirit. He had heard them so many times that they had begun to feel like truth—bitter and inescapable, woven into the fabric of his existence.  

Each time he tried to cling to something good, the darkness punished him for it.  

When the memory of his brother's laughter surfaced—bright, untainted, and free—the shadows responded with grotesque visions. Flames engulfing halls. Screams echoing through stone corridors. Faces twisted in fear as destruction followed in his wake.  

This is what you bring, the darkness whispered. This is what you are.  

The torment deepened, a relentless tide eroding what little remained of his resolve. The single voice fractured, multiplying into a chorus of accusations that clawed at his sanity.  

"You killed your mother."

"You'll kill your brother too."

"Everyone who comes close to you will suffer and die."

Each word struck like a dagger, sharp and unyielding, tearing through whatever fragile sense of self he still clung to. The weight of despair settled heavily on his shoulders, a cloak stitched from regret, fear, and shame.  

He remembered the soft warmth of his mother's embrace, the way her smile lit up the dimmest of rooms. But now, that memory was tainted, a bittersweet reminder of the pain he had caused. 

The darkness fed on it.

It delighted in the way his guilt festered and grew, blooming like a dark flower deep within his heart.

Slowly, he felt the numbness creep in.  

It wrapped around him gently, almost kindly, dulling the ache until the pain began to fade. The darkness offered it willingly, like a gift.  

Rest, it urged. You're tired.  

"Maybe it's better this way," Avaxion thought, the idea settling heavily in his mind.  

To be consumed by shadows felt like a fitting end for someone who could never escape his sins.  

As his will weakened, fragments of happiness flickered through the void—sunlight filtering through trees, laughter shared without fear, warmth passed from one hand to another. But they shattered as quickly as they appeared, cruel illusions meant only to remind him of what he could never have.  

The darkness tightened its grip.  

Let go, it whispered. And you'll finally be free.

And so, as the last threads of his resistance unraveled, Avaxion sank deeper into the abyss, believing that somewhere within despair, he might find the peace joy had always denied him.

Then—

Something shifted. 

He did not know how long he had been lost when it happened. Time had long since stopped existing. But suddenly, a faint warmth brushed against his awareness.

Not fire.

Not pain.

Warmth.    

A soft glow pierced the suffocating dark, fragile yet persistent. For the first time since the abyss claimed him, Avaxion felt something stir inside his chest.

Life.

The warmth spread through him, chasing away the blazing tendrils of despair, providing warmth in his heart. He could feel the pulse of existence thrumming through his veins, filling him with a sense of purpose he hadn't known he craved. 

As the shadows began to recede, a realization blossomed within him: perhaps he could rise from this darkness, not as a monster, but as someone capable of change.

In that moment, he dared to hope. 

Avaxion felt a surge of energy as he grabbed the light, his eyes snapping open. 

Yet, in that moment, clarity eluded him; everything was a blur. 

A girl stood before him, her face indistinct, but he could see her blue hair shimmering like a beacon.

Confusion settled over him as he recalled telling the maids and others in the castle to never enter his chamber. Then, he had strictly ordered her to leave. As she turned to go, he felt a pang of bewilderment, an urge to call after her. 

Suddenly, a flood of memories crashed over him—his mother, his guilt, the abyss he thought he'd escaped.   

The darkness surged violently, wrapping around him once more like chains snapping shut.  

He was trapped.  

His power churned within him, unstable and suffocating, feeding off his despair. He could feel it slipping beyond his control again.  

But when the girl touched him—

A gentle mist spread through the abyss.

Cool. Calming.

It soothed the raging storm inside him, easing the flames just enough for him to think.  

She has to come back, he realized desperately. She's the only one who can help me.  

Yet the warmth faded too quickly.  

The darkness rushed in to fill the space it left behind, dragging guilt and sorrow with it.  

You pushed her away, it mocked. Just like everyone else.

A wave of despair hit him; he believed there was no hope of getting out of this darkness, that the girl would never return, and that this abyss was all that awaited him.  

With a heavy heart, he finally surrendered to the consuming shadows as his uncontrollable power burst into flames, a wild manifestation of his internal struggle. 

He felt it radiate from his body as he sank deeper into the abyss, devoid of hope. The voices in the darkness growled in satisfaction.  

In that chaos, he felt the darkness suddenly claw its way out from within him, tearing through his thoughts until everything fell into a suffocating silence. For a brief moment, there was nothing—no voices, no accusations, no memory.  

But it was already too late.  

His power surged again, berserk and untamed, lashing out without direction, threatening to consume what little remained of him.  

Then—

Warmth.

It wrapped around him without warning, gentle but insistent, a presence both comforting and laced with an icy clarity that cut through the raging fire in his chest.  

It seeped into him, smoothing the violent storm that had consumed his heart for so long. The chaotic flames within him began to settle, no longer tearing outward, but drawing inward, coalescing into a steady, radiant glow.  

The tormenting voices that had clawed endlessly at his sanity faded into distant murmurs, then into nothing at all.  

The darkness that had suffocated him slowly withdrew, leaving a fragile calm in its place. Avaxion felt the weight on his shoulders lift, the oppressive despair easing, replaced by a quiet, almost foreign relief.  

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he could breathe. Deeply. Freely. Without the shadows pressing down, without the fire threatening to consume everything.  

In this newfound tranquility, his eyes opened.  

The world snapped into focus. Colors sharpened, the haze of darkness thinning until the space around him felt almost alive. 

There, standing like a beacon in the dim light, was the girl. Her blue hair shimmered softly, catching the glow like threads of starlight, her presence radiating warmth that drew him in.

"You?.." The word escaped him, barely a whisper, as confusion washed over him, banishing the fading remnants of fire from his gaze. 

The girl smiled, her eyes radiating warmth. In her gaze, he found not judgment, but understanding—a quiet promise of hope amidst the shadows he had endured.

Words danced on the tip of his tongue, but he felt powerless to speak more. Exhaustion claimed him, and his eyes closed once more, the world fading as serenity draped over him like a soft, protective veil.  

And in that stillness, one truth glimmered through the darkness:

He was no longer a prisoner of the night.

To be continued...