The Sovereign's Curse

He took slower steps towards the door when he suddenly remembered what his mother said to him in the message.

Xander froze mid-step, his heart pounding harder than ever as his mother's words replayed in his mind:

"Beware the shadows that lurk between worlds. They wear many faces. Some you recognize, some you don't."

The weight of the message hit him like a hammer, and an unsettling thought clawed its way into his mind. Could it be… his father?

His throat tightened as fragments of the past day pieced themselves together in his mind. The sudden change in his father's behavior—kindness that was far too unusual. The night before, his father caught him snooping in his office but didn't chew him out for passing his boundaries, only to inquire about him the next day. Elaine panicking despite her usually calm demeanor and telling him to leave and not even return home after meeting with their father.

Could it all mean…?

"No," he whispered to himself, shaking his head, trying to banish the thought. "No, it's impossible. Dad's not... a bad person."

Yet doubt lingered. He could feel it creeping deeper into his mind like an unwelcome guest. His father's face flashed in his memory, but now it felt distorted, unfamiliar. Xander swallowed hard, his mouth dry as sandpaper. He clenched his fists, trying to calm the trembling.

In his pocket, Aeternis felt like dead weight. Its silence was deafening, and it only reminded him of what his mother had stressed so fervently: Protect Aeternis. Don't let it fall into the wrong hands.

Xander's grip on the bat tightened as his gaze flicked toward the office door. If his father truly was waiting for him on the other side, he wasn't ready for a confrontation—not now, not like this. Slowly, he took a step back, his movements careful and deliberate. He retreated down the hallway, his breath shallow and quiet, until he reached the top of the stairs.

Once back in the workshop, Xander moved with urgency. He scanned the room, eyes darting from corner to corner, searching for a safe place to hide Aeternis. Nowhere seems good enough, he thought in frustration, his nerves fraying with each passing second.

His gaze landed on the metallic box—the one he'd found Aeternis in. It was inconspicuous, sturdy, and unlikely to draw attention. With trembling hands, he retrieved the sphere from his pocket and placed it gently inside the box.

"Aeternis," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I don't know if you can hear me, but... I need you. I really need your help right now. I don't know what's going on, but I can't do this without you. So... You come back because you promised you'd be with me all the way, okay?"

He placed the box carefully in a shadowed corner of the workshop, out of immediate sight. He lingered for a moment, hesitating, his hand hovering over the box. Then, taking a deep breath, he stood and turned toward the stairs.

The hallway above felt colder this time, the silence heavier. His legs felt like lead as he moved forward, step by step, until he found himself once again near his father's office doorway.

The light under the door still spilled into the dim hallway, casting eerie shadows that danced with his imagination.

Xander paused near the doorway, gripping the bat tightly. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to turn around, to leave, to run—but to where?.

He took slow steadying breaths and steeled himself.

"I can't possibly just go back in there and wait this out, whatever was waiting behind that door, it's better I face it now."

Taking slow, measured steps, Xander finally reached the doorway of his father's office. He pressed his back against the wall, taking a moment to collect himself before cautiously peeking inside. His eyes darted left and right, scanning every corner of the room. It was empty—or at least it seemed to be.

No one's here? he thought, confused.

The lights were on, casting an eerie glow over the otherwise still office. But the lights were definitely off when Aeternis and I went into the workshop. The realization made his skin crawl, his grip tightening on the bat as his instincts screamed at him to be on guard.

Steeling his nerves, Xander stepped into the room. He moved to the bookshelf, the same one that concealed the hidden stairwell, and gently pushed the book back into its original place. The bookshelf groaned softly as it slid back into position, sealing the entrance to the workshop.

Every second felt like an eternity as he watched the mechanism close. Anxiety prickled at his skin, his heart racing with every inch the bookshelf moved. His hands tightened on the bat, sweat making his palms slippery.

As the bookshelf locked back into place, Xander's eyes caught the high-backed chair behind his father's desk. It was turned away, facing the large window that overlooked the estate grounds. He couldn't see if anyone was sitting in it, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

What if someone's there? What if... Dad's waiting for me?

The thought sent a cold chill down his spine. I'm not waiting around to find out.

Keeping his steps slow and quiet, he began inching toward the door, his focus locked on the chair. Just a few more steps, and he could slip out unnoticed. But then—

"I clearly remember shutting this door the last time I was in here," a voice said, low and calm. "And it seems you've been busy."

Xander froze mid-step, his blood turning to ice. His breath caught in his throat as recognition hit him like a lightning strike. Dad.

His heart hammered wildly in his chest as he turned, his worst fear confirmed. His father stood by the desk, slowly rising from a chair—but not the one behind the desk. No, Victor Hawthorne had been sitting in front of it, deliberately out of sight.

Victor's piercing gaze locked onto Xander, and a chill silence fell over the room. The shadows seemed to deepen, and the warm light of the office now felt harsh and exposing.

"What's the matter, son?" Victor asked, his voice calm yet cold, with a sharp edge of suspicion. "Cat got your tongue?"

Xander swallowed hard, gripping the bat behind his back. He didn't know what to say, how to explain himself, or whether an explanation would even matter at this point. His father's presence alone was suffocating, and the weight of his earlier suspicions pressed harder against his chest.

"I... I was just—" he stammered, but Victor raised a hand, silencing him.

"Save it," Victor said, stepping closer. "I have a few questions of my own. Starting with why you were in my office, uninvited."

Xander stood frozen, his mouth dry and his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest. He couldn't bring himself to say a word. His mind raced, trying to process everything at once—the fear, and the growing realization that his earlier suspicions might not have been as far-fetched as he thought.

Victor's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile, the kind that sent chills down Xander's spine. "I see you've found yourself a little playground," he said, gesturing toward the now-sealed entrance of the workshop.

Xander flinched at the casual tone, his gaze flicking briefly to the bookshelf. He knows about the workshop, Xander thought, his stomach twisting.

Victor's voice hardened. "Now, I'm going to ask you this once." He took a slow step forward, his piercing eyes locking onto Xander's. "Where is Aeternis?"

The question hit like a physical blow. Xander's stomach dropped as the realization sank in—He knows. He knows about Aeternis.

His father—or whoever this was—wasn't asking because he was curious. This was an interrogation. Xander felt a surge of emotions—fear, anger, and regret all swirling in his chest. I should have trusted my instincts. This man... this man might not even be my father.

Victor's face darkened when Xander remained silent. The brief silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating. "Answer me, boy!" Victor suddenly shouted, his voice echoing through the office like thunder.

The sheer force of it shook Xander from his spiraling thoughts, his entire body jolting as though he'd been struck. The anger in Victor's voice wasn't just a father scolding his son—it was something deeper, more menacing, and it terrified him.

What do I do? Xander's mind screamed as he struggled to think of an answer that wouldn't make the situation worse. He glanced briefly toward the doorway and thought, I should make a run for it.

But before he could move, something flickered in the corner of his vision—something fast, a blur of movement that passed him.

His stomach dropped as he turned to see it. A figure now stood at the office doorway, blocking his escape. Its glowing red eyes pierced through the light, the only visible features on a form made entirely of swirling shadows. It had no face, no body—just an amorphous, dark presence that seemed to ripple like smoke caught in a breeze.

Xander's grip on the bat tightened as his breath quickened. He couldn't tear his gaze away from it. The figure didn't move, but the air around it grew heavier, the shadows stretching unnaturally along the walls, like they were alive and hungry.