𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

Inimicos

"I don't care. Just tell what you have to tell. Let's not drag this anymore," Regan retorted. Whatever was he knew, she wanted to know as well.

"The least I want to do is to drag it," he muttered. "Come then," he said, gesturing to his chamber.

Regan shifted awkwardly, her reluctance palpable. She didn't want to enter. He noticed, a smirk playing on his lips, "Don't worry, I don't bite."

With a heavy sigh, Regan followed him, her steps hesitant and reluctant.

The room was grand and dimly lit, adorned with mysterious artifacts and ancient scrolls, set in tall and intriguing bookshelves. The main study table was messy and taken by open books and torn papers. On them, she saw some sketches and beautiful handwritten scripts.

He's so talented, she thought. As much as she loathed him, she couldn't deny that his drawings were exquisite. His study was a testament to his dedication and focus, despite the chaos that surrounded him.

He leaned far on the wall across, his gaze penetrating and inscrutable.

"Ask your questions," he began, his tone commanding yet tinged with an air of amusement.

"What do you know about my past. What revenge do you want from me. What did you mean with whose blood runs in my veins," Regan blurted out.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he straightened and walked over to a red velvet curtain covering a wall. She thought it was covering a window. But it was nothing like that.

He shoved the curtain away, and revealed a display of galaxies and later, stars and planets. The display responded to his hand movings and revealed a dark planet.

His elegance was evident in whatever thing he'd do.

Regan watched but didn't ask, she didn't know what he was doing. Still, she was fascinated.

"To start with your answers, you're not from Earth. You're not who you think you are," he stated cryptically.

"And from where I am?" she snapped in disbelief, crossing her arms.

"You're from there," he pointed at the planet, "this is your homeland, the place where you were born, the place where your origin comes from."

Regan's eyebrows furrowed, perplexed by his words, "What? Are you serious?"

"Serious is my name."

Regan shook her head, finding it impossible to believe. This was ridiculous. "And you think I believe that? I'm from Earth, I was born there. I'm not an alien. You make no sense."

"You," he said as he closed the curtain, "have nothing to do with Earth. You were born in Avalon, from the royal lineage. Your land got destroyed and you unfortunately survived. Then, you were brought on earth, adopted by your aunt and your foster parents died in an accident. Your dear aunt raised you, with lies and deceit," he finished his speech solemnly. His expression was blank, devoid of anything.

Regan's eyes widened in disbelief. What was he saying? What was he talking about? Her, adopted? He was making her whole life a lie.

"Are you out of your mind? What in the world are you talking about? Me, adopted?" she echod, her voice incredulous, "You're lying!"

"Oh, but I'm not," he drawled, "I know so much about you that you have no idea of. You don't believe being adopted? Make the link yourself. How would you carry powers in your blood if your foster parents didn't had any? You think these happen on their own? No, my dear, they don't. You carry royal blood."

"What the hell are you rambling about?! This is nonsense! If I was adopted, my aunt would have already told that!" Regan retorted irritatedly. She couldn't believe any of it.