CHAPTER 504: THE DARK SIDE

"I wasn’t expecting you to be here and didn’t want to interrupt your special moment," Thamiel said.

Azrael rolled his eyes, making no effort to hide it.

Elysia shook her head dismissively. She knew her sons were like jobless little spies for Raziel. Ever since the incident where she’d almost been killed, they had never let her go anywhere alone.

She had always known but never mentioned a thing. She was fine with it—she understood their paranoia. They didn’t want their mother to vanish for another four years and suddenly have more siblings.

It sounded like a joke, but her sons had been affected by what happened, maybe more than they admitted. Even Raziel had been shaken. Still, she loved it—they were always close. It meant they still saw her as their mother.

"That’s it," she said simply.

Thamiel closed his eyes and hissed. "Azrael popped up and thought it was a good idea to eavesdrop. Besides, I’m here to comply with your request," he explained.

Azrael’s brows furrowed, his eyes darting between Elysia and Thamiel. "What request is he talking about?" he blurted. Azrael was clearly the last one who hadn’t been told anything.

Cedric found his expression priceless.

"I asked some of your brothers to teach Cedric about his other side. He has to learn, unless he wishes to be stuck here forever," Elysia explained. Cedric’s brows furrowed.

Thamiel answered before he could ask. "You need to learn how to control the darkness and, possibly, balance it. If you don’t have control over your demonic ability once you step out of Netheralis, you will lose your mind—like something is trying to consume you."

Cedric’s hand secretly clutched the sheets. How long would that take? How long would Abrielle wait? He understood what Thamiel was saying. At times, he felt something dark in him trying to take control—and whenever it did, he remembered nothing. Everything ended in ashes, just like when he rescued Abrielle from Death Bite, and the first time he felt his powers—close to death during his first war.

"It always felt like I was losing myself to the darkness," he muttered.

Elysia held his hand. He met her dark eyes.

"That darkness isn’t an enemy. It’s part of your soul you’ve been ignoring. The part you inherited from me," she explained, then sat back on the bed.

"Half of you comes from me, the other half from your father. It’s like you have two souls in one body, but it wasn’t meant to be that way. While growing up, you neglected your other side, making your soul resent you and creating another personality to carry the other half—your anger, resentment, even your intense love. Your obsession."

Thamiel added, "Because you’ve suppressed it so long, your soul now resents you. It’s killing you. Normally, the cursed blade wouldn’t have affected you so badly, but your other side refused to heal you."

Cedric was stunned. "He wants me dead."

Thamiel nodded. "I don’t know what you did for your own soul to hate you so much it wants you dead—which is also its own death. You have to fix it, because next time it takes control, your current half will be consumed."

"The reason you’re so weak is because you’re barely using fifty percent of your strength," Elysia added.

Cedric’s other side was the part obsessed with Abrielle—the side with the voices, the side that could not be corrupted. It was the side that had fallen for her first. Just like he had once refused to accept his feelings for her, it was the part his mind hadn’t been ready to face.

Cedric understood why his other side resented him. The feeling was mutual. He had grown up hating himself because of how he was perceived by others.

First, he’d questioned why he seemed different—why he was seen as a scowl, a plague in the palace. When the other children received praise for their deeds, he got nothing.

It felt like no one saw him. His father, who should have, was the coldest of all. It made him believe he was the problem, and he began resenting himself.

He tried desperately to fit the mold of the perfect prince, but it was a shape he could never fit into. Eventually, he stopped caring.

But the whispers never went away—they grew worse. The bloodthirsty demon who could wipe kingdoms from the map in days.

*******

The room was quiet—too quiet. An eerie presence hung in the air. Cedric sat cross-legged on a soft carpet with Thamiel before him.

"Let me hold your hands," Thamiel requested. Honestly, he didn’t want to do this—he only agreed because of his mother’s request.

When he looked at Cedric, despite the striking resemblance to Elysia, all he saw was the son of another man.

Cedric gave him his hands. His palms were calloused and rough from countless battles. Thamiel had heard the stories.

"I want you to close your eyes and don’t open them until you feel it’s right," the sixth prince instructed.

Cedric was skeptical, but he had little knowledge of what they were about to do. Still, he obeyed. "How will I know when it’s time?" he muttered.

"You’ll know. I can’t tell you when," Thamiel answered.

The room’s temperature slowly dropped. A tired sigh escaped Thamiel’s lips. His gaze was steady as he watched Cedric’s calm face.

Cedric felt a rush in his veins—like his magic, but darker, colder, with a heavier presence. Thamiel’s energy was challenging him, reaching deep, trying to connect with his inner self.

The rush spread through every fiber of his being—then stopped.

Silence.

Cedric could hear nothing. Not the rustle of the curtains, not Thamiel’s breath, not even his heartbeat—only his own. It thundered in his ears.

His slow breath felt like a song.

Thamiel was gone.

Cedric’s lashes fluttered open. His heartbeat slowed. He looked around, searching for even a flicker of light, but all that surrounded him was darkness.

An endless stretch of darkness.

Only his gold eyes glimmered in the void. His senses sharpened, every nerve on edge.

He could feel it—danger was lurking.