Chapter 49: The Master's Deceit
The Shrouded One stood in the doorway of the Master's chamber, his mind a whirlwind of memories and questions. He had finally pieced it together. The fragments of his past, buried deep for so long, had surfaced, and with them, the haunting realization that he had once been a boy, loved and protected by his parents. They had died protecting him. And it was the Master who had taken him from them.
With slow, deliberate steps, he entered the room, his crimson eyes fixed on the Master, who was seated at his desk, unaware of the storm brewing behind him. The moment the Shrouded One's presence filled the room, the Master's posture stiffened, and his hand froze in midair, holding a glass of dark wine. The Master's gaze flickered up, his eyes wide with shock.
"You," the Master breathed, his voice unsteady for the first time in ages. "You've come here… now?"
The Shrouded One's voice was low and dangerous, his tone heavy with accusation. "I know now, Master. I know what I am. Who I was. I remember my parents. You took me from them. You killed them." The words felt bitter in his mouth, like poison, but he couldn't stop them from spilling out.
For a long moment, the Master said nothing. His eyes widened further, and the glass in his hand began to shake slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. He set the glass down slowly and stood, facing the Shrouded One with a serene expression that didn't quite reach his eyes. His voice was calm, almost soothing, as he took a step toward him.
"You've… you've been dreaming," the Master said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's natural, with everything that's happened. Your memories are… clouded, mixed up." He approached the Shrouded One, placing a hand on his shoulder with an almost paternal affection. "You weren't taken from anyone, my son. You've always been an orphan."
The Shrouded One recoiled slightly from the touch, his heart pounding in his chest. "An orphan?" he repeated, his voice trembling. "You… you took me from my parents. I remember them. I remember how they protected me. How they died trying to keep me safe. How could I have been an orphan?"
The Master's gaze softened, his hand still on the Shrouded One's shoulder as if trying to comfort him. "It's painful to remember," he said softly, his voice almost gentle. "But your parents… they were never in your life. You were always alone. No one wanted you, but I did. I found you, a lost child with no one to care for him. I took you in. I gave you everything. I made you who you are."
The Shrouded One's chest tightened, and a wave of confusion flooded over him. The Master's words echoed in his mind, but a part of him resisted, the doubt gnawing at him. He wanted to believe, to accept the comfort the Master offered, but something deep within him screamed that it wasn't true.
"But I remember…" The words came out barely above a whisper. "I remember them. My parents… they loved me. They… they died because they wouldn't let you take me."
The Master sighed, as though the Shrouded One was a child who simply didn't understand. He stepped back slightly, giving the Shrouded One some space, his tone taking on a more authoritative edge. "You are mistaken," he said firmly. "The memories you think you have are nothing but illusions, brought on by your grief. You were abandoned. Your parents were never there for you. You were an orphan when I found you. And I gave you a family. I gave you purpose."
The Shrouded One's mind whirled. The Master's words were persuasive, smooth as silk, but the weight of those memories, the image of his parents standing before him, their love and sacrifice — it felt real. How could it all be a lie? And yet, part of him wanted to believe the Master, to accept the comfort that had been offered all these years.
"You were always meant for greatness," the Master continued, his voice low and coaxing. "You are my most prized creation. I never would have hurt you. You are my son. The son I've raised, the one I will protect, no matter what."
The Shrouded One clenched his fists, but the doubt lingered, swirling in his chest like a storm. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. And yet, for the moment, he did not rebel. He didn't show his inner turmoil, didn't question the Master further. He just stood there, caught between the remnants of his memories and the comforting lie the Master had spun.
"I gave you everything," the Master said again, this time with more conviction. "I would never harm you. You are my son. And nothing will ever change that."
The Shrouded One felt a strange tightness in his chest. The words echoed in his ears, and though part of him wanted to scream, to demand the truth, he couldn't bring himself to do it. His fists slowly unclenched, and he nodded once, still not fully believing, but not ready to defy the Master yet.
The Master watched him with an unreadable expression, his smile never wavering. "I'll make sure you never forget that," he said softly, as though speaking to a child.
The Shrouded One turned away, his mind in turmoil, his heart heavy with confusion. The doubts lingered, but for now, he kept them buried deep inside, choosing silence over rebellion. He didn't trust the Master, but he wasn't ready to confront the truth — not yet.
As he left the Master's chamber, the Shrouded One felt a cold emptiness inside him. The past was still a mystery, but he knew one thing for sure: He would find the truth, no matter how long it took. And when he did, the Master would pay for every lie he had told.