LIROIDS

Whispers of Blood

Hakaya’s POV

After the raid, the village looked at me with new eyes. Not with gratitude, though I had saved them, but with fear. When I walked to the market, mothers pulled their children close to them. When I passed the well, whispers followed me like shadows: witch, cursed, demon-blooded.

I tried to ignore them, but their fear carved itself into my skin. I could feel it in the way the baker’s wife would not meet my eyes, in the way the priest muttered blessings under his breath as I passed.

At night, I dreamed of the tree again. The woman’s face in the bark grew clearer with every vision. Her lips moved, whispering words I could almost understand.

“You are mine, Hakaya… the bloodline is yours to carry…”

I would wake gasping, my body damp with sweat, my hands tangled in sheets littered with purple petals.

The queen’s words struck like thunder.

“You will not marry my son until you find your true mother. Until then, you are unworthy.” She would stop at nothing to keep the cursed blood from her lineage.

Humiliated and confused, Hakaya fled to her home. She confronted Helen, the woman she had always called mother.

“Tell me the truth,” Hakaya demanded, her voice trembling. “Am I your daughter or not?”

She wished it was a lie the wicked queen had concocted, but her mother's words shattered her reality.

My foster parents no longer knew how to look at me. My mother’s kindness had become cautious, brittle. My father’s steady voice was now sharp, quick to anger.

He froze, the knife in his hand trembling. My mother’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“Tell me the truth,” I pressed. My voice wavered, but my heart demanded it.

He slammed the knife onto the table. “You want the truth? Fine. You were left to us, Hakaya, and left with nothing but lilies blooming at your cradle. We should have known then. You are not ours. Your true mother is…”

“Enough!” my foster mother cried, grabbing his arm.

Helen wept, her hands trembling as she confessed. “We found you, child, wrapped in roots deep within the forest. I raised you as my own, but you belong to another. Forgive me.”

Hakaya’s world was shattered. Anger, betrayal, sorrow, all warred within her heart.

Her mother and her father were not of her blood. What a cruel world this turned out to be.

But the word was already burning in my chest. “Evilside,” I whispered.

The silence was suffocating.

“She was not always a monster,” my mother said softly, as though speaking the words might damn her. “She was a girl once, like you. But she fell into sorrow and became something else. And you, Hakaya…you carry her curse.”

She fled to her room to drown out the lies. Lying on her bed, she forced herself to sleep, wishing and praying that it was all a nightmare she would awake from. She would come to realise that not all nightmares went away that easily.

I stumbled into the night, the word echoing in my mind. Curse. Curse. Curse.

I ran until my legs gave out, until I collapsed in a field of wild grass. The stars above blurred with my tears.

“Why?” I shouted into the sky. “Why me? Why her?”

The air shifted. A voice answered, soft and cruel, though no one stood there.

“Because blood remembers. Because shadows cling. You cannot escape what you are.”

I shivered, hugging myself. “Then what am I?”

The answer came in the rustle of the grass, in the perfume of lilies that bloomed around me without seed or root.

“You are the daughter of Evilside. And you will be more than she ever was.”

From that night, the whispers in the village turned to fear, sharpened into hate. They did not wait long before they acted.

The next morning, Helen led her deep into the Dark Forest. The air grew thick with the scent of lilies, the ground pulsing with unseen power, until at last they stood before the colossal tree, its blossoms glowing purple in the fading light.

“I have brought her back, as I promised,” Helen whispered, her voice shaking.

She had never seen her mother tremble, but there was always a first time to everything. She looked around to find whoever her mother was referring to.

In the blink of an eye, the tree before her stirred. Branches shifted like arms, and a voice, deep and sorrowful, echoed from its heart.

“Good,” it said. “Do not fear, child. I am your mother.”

Hakaya staggered back. “A tree cannot be my mother.” She wondered how she found her voice when all she could do was tremble. Her knee buckled, and she clung to her mother for support.

“I am more than tree,” the voice replied, its timbre both gentle and terrible. “I am Evilside, once Eyela of Cellon. You were born of my grief. When I gave you life, I named you Heartless… for I had no heart left to give.”

Hakaya’s breath caught in her throat. “Why… why would you abandon me?” A familiar feeling engulfed her, one of recognition; in a moment's notice, she found her courage was closer than she thought. She would seek out all the answers to her questions so she could face the heartless queen with more conviction and strength, for no one would stop her from marrying the love of her life, not even his mother.

The blossoms shivered, raining petals like tears. “Because I could not give you peace. I am cursed, child. My love died, my soul is broken, and all I touch becomes shadow. But you…” The voice trembled, “You are my hope.”

Tears filled Hakaya’s eyes as the truth sank in. She was born not of love, but of vengeance, her very bloodline tainted with sorrow. She could feel her grief as though it were her own.

Yet in that moment, as the branches bent low, Evilside’s voice softened. “You will not be alone. You will walk with my blessing, though the world may curse your name.”

Power flowed from the roots, wrapping Hakaya in light. The mark of her bloodline appeared faintly upon her skin, a shadowed flame etched behind her ear. She felt stronger, sharper, alive in ways she had never known.

She could also feel her grief, and every emotion, all mixed up, drove her crazy. She found the strength she didn’t know she had to tame it.

She could also feel her grief, and every emotion, all mixed up, drove her crazy. She found the strength she didn’t know she had to tame it.

When she returned to the palace, the prince cared nothing for the revelation. He loved her still, and soon they were wed in defiance of the queen.

But joy in the cursed line was always fleeting.

On the day their daughter was born, the queen cast a spell to strike both mother and child dead. The prince, desperate, leaped into the curse’s path. The spell consumed him, and he fell lifeless at Hakaya’s feet.

Her scream shook the palace walls.

Grief ignited her blood. Power surged through her veins, and in that agony, Hakaya’s true self was revealed. Her body glowed, her sorrow turning into strength as she cradled her child. The queen fled, her plot undone, while Hakaya wept over her husband’s body.

She barked orders for the traitor to be captured and brought to her. She held onto the lifeless body of her eternal love and swore never to love another.

From that day, she bore the name her mother had given her: Queen Heartless of House Liroid.

And her infant daughter, the last memory of her love, she named Lily… though the people would come to know her by another name.

Death

That night I had a terrible nightmare.

One morning, I awoke to smoke. Flames licked the edges of our house, and voices outside shouted for the cursed girl to burn. My foster parents dragged me from bed, panic in their eyes.

“Run, Hakaya,” my mother sobbed, shoving me toward the back door.

“I won’t leave you!” I cried.

“You must!” she screamed. “Go, before they kill you!”

I stumbled into the fields, smoke choking my lungs. Behind me, my home collapsed into fire. I heard screams…my mother’s, my father’s…and then nothing.

I wanted to run back, to save them, but the villagers surged with torches and blades. Their faces twisted with fury. “Witch! Monster!” they cried.

The lilies bloomed at my feet, hundreds of them, fed by my terror. The villagers faltered, but I did not fight them. I turned and fled into the forest, heart shattering.

I was alone.

That night, by a stream in the woods, I saw her again. Not in a dream, but in the water’s reflection.

The woman’s face gazed back at me, framed in blossoms. Her eyes were my own, dark and heavy with sorrow.

“Mother,” I whispered. The word felt strange, forbidden, but true.

Her voice rippled through the water. “You are mine, Hakaya. My blood. My legacy.”

Tears blurred my vision. “Why did you curse me? Why did you make me this?”

Her eyes softened, but her lips curved into a sad smile. “Because pain is the soil in which we grow. You will understand, in time. You will be greater than me. You will be queen.”

The water rippled, and her face vanished. But the echo of her words lingered, heavy as fate.

You will be queen.

To be continued….