Nightfall was a time to relax, to lie in bed and reflect on the day's activity. To drift to slumber, to give the mind a short break.
For some people, it was a time to make endless love. They wanted to be entangled with their lovers in endless sessions of steamy sex.
However, for Amilek, it was different.
It was like a battlefield, each night bringing a new obstacle for him to tackle. At times he preferred to remain awake. When his mother, Racheal, had placed her goodnight kiss on his forehead, he would pretend to be asleep and wait until she left.
Afterwards he would sit up, staring into nothing, at times falling into a trance; whatever it took for him not to fall asleep was acceptable.
Tonight wasn't any different; while others were busy snoring, he was wide awake. After the horrible dream he just had, he won't be sleeping until it is dawn.
His emerald green eyes glowed in the dark as he climbed down from his bed and walked to a jug filled with water, lying on a wooden table located at the corner of the chamber.
Just when he wanted to reach out for the water, a shadow flashed on the wall. Amilek froze, fear gripping his heart as he turned his direction towards the window in his chamber, which was wide open.
Today the moon was hidden behind the clouds. The sky was dark, and the night breeze blew, swaying the curtains from side to side in an eerie manner.
His gaze remained fixed on the window; there was no one there, but instinctively his gaze refused to turn away from that direction. Just then something flew past by, dark and swift.
Amilek shrieked, taken aback in fright, and the jug of water in his hand faltered, making a loud clang, the content inside spilling on the floor.
His small hands began to tremble. Normally, a child his age would scream, but instead he was curious. He languidly dragged his feet along the cold floor until he got to the window.
The night breeze caressed his brown curly hair as he leaned forward, peering through the window. His hawk gaze scanning around, he saw nothing.
He sighed in relief, then turned around….
Something left his body, be it spirit or soul. His body suddenly went numb; fear was an understatement to what he was experiencing right now.
Gazing at him, eye to eye, was a red-eyed owl, its wings still flapping in the air, big round eyes glaring at Amilek.
Amilek lost his voice; he couldn't scream. He took some steps backwards, only to feel his back hit the wall, his upper body slightly leaning outside the window.
He opened his mouth, but no words could come out. The red-eyed owl continues to gaze at him until his eyes begin to turn completely white, the pupils disappearing.
Amilek was now in a trance; he was like a sleeping corpse. The owl twirled around the chamber, flapping its wings strangely and hooting, before finally flying out through the window.
Amilek walked across the room, reached out to the door, turned the knob, and then stepped into the hallway. There was a guard in front of the chamber, but immediately Amilek locked gaze with the guard; the guard fell into a trance and became mute.
The corridor stretched on longer than it should have. Each step echoed in a way that didn't quite match the rhythm of his feet, as though something else walked alongside him in the dark. The torches on the wall burned low, their flames bending sharply.
A faint sound trickled from the end of the hall, soft and deliberate; it was the owl!
It had turned around and found its way inside the castle; it was now lurking at the end of that hallway, its eyes fixed on Amilek.
Amilek's feet moved soundlessly across the stone floor, though his slippers dragged as if reluctant.
His small hands hung limp at his sides. His eyes, usually bright and full of mischief, were now nothing but milky white orbs, wide and unblinking, reflecting the dim torches that lined the corridor.
He glided along the corridors, controlled by the owl.
Above him, wings spread in unnatural silence, the owl glided low through the air. Its round red eyes glowed faintly.
With every slow tilt of its wings, the boy's body swayed, adjusting his steps in union, as though strings bound him to the creature.
The owl gave a soft hoot, low, hollow, and ancient, and Amilek stiffened. His head turned sharply, too sharply for a human neck, as though acknowledging a command whispered straight into his skull.
Outside the building lay hushed beneath a shroud of mist, the castle walls looming like silent sentinels around its edges. The grass, silvered by moonlight, bent as though bowing before the strange procession. The boy trudged forward, bare feet wet with dew, his eyes still pale and unseeing.
The owl circled above him, wings whispering through the night air. At last it dipped low, guiding the child toward a solitary tree at the heart of the garden—an ancient oak, twisted and gnarled, its bark split open like scars.
Amilek halted before it. His chest rose and fell, but not with breath of his own; his body seemed only a vessel waiting for command. The owl landed silently upon a crooked branch overhead, talons clutching the wood with slow, deliberate pressure.
The garden held its breath. Not a cricket stirred, not a breeze touched the leaves. Amilek stood still as stone, his white eyes fixed upon the dark hollow in the tree's trunk…waiting.
He was motionless before the oak. For a long moment, there was only silence.
Then, among the dense clusters of leaves, something stirred. A faint rustle, soft as a whisper, swept through the branches. One by one, pairs of eyes ignited in the dark… round, gleaming, and red, burning like embers in a furnace.
At first, there were only two. Then four, then eight… The numbers kept increasing.
The leaves seemed alive with them, countless eyes blinking open in eerie union.
Dozens of owls sat perched along the gnarled limbs, their feathers blending with shadow, their gaze fixed upon the Amilek. Watching. Judging. Like a small coven
The air grew heavy under their collective stare. Amilek's lips parted as though to speak, but no words came, only the faintest tremor, like a breath that wasn't his own.
Above, the owl that had led him here gave a low, rumbling hoot, and instantly every glowing eye narrowed, their attention sharpening like a blade upon Amilek, who stood alone before the tree.
He blinked. Once. Twice. And suddenly the milky haze vanished from his gaze. His eyes cleared, returning to their ordinary emerald green, though confusion clouded them.
He swayed slightly, as though waking from a dream. The night breeze touched his skin, rippled through his hair, and tugged at his sleeves, but he stood firm before the ancient owls.
He looked down at his trembling hands, then around him at the vast garden spreading silent and strange beneath the looming castle walls.
The red eyes in the branches still glowed, unblinking, but he did not notice them all at once.
Amilek did not flinch. Instead his eyes, now clear, carried no trace of fear, only a cold steadiness, unswerving, as though this meeting had long been expected.
Slowly, his gaze lifted to the owl perched above him, the one that had led him here.
Their eyes locked.
This was not their first encounter. He had seen those red eyes before, glowing at the edge of his chamber in the dead of night, watching, waiting.
He had heard the soft beating of those wings in his dreams, guiding him through corridors.
Now, standing beneath the tree heavy with red-eyed owls, he did not tremble. His voice, low and steady, broke the silence.
"Why have you brought me here?"
The owl's head tilted, slow and deliberate, its eyes gleaming like molten lava in the dark.
The other owls shifted on their branches, the rustle of feathers echoing in the silent night.
"Speak to me!
Amilek screamed, sounding frustrated.
Over and over again he had told his mother about this very situation, about the owl, but she didn't believe him. He sounded like he was losing his mind; now here he was seeking questions, yet he got no reply.
The owl that had led him here gazed at him intensely. Amilek's eyes, which were normal, began to turn white again; the owl was trying to put him in a trance.
But this time Amilek resisted it; his gaze was defiant. He shut his eyes, then shook his head from side to side violently, trying to snap out of the owl's influence.
The owl started to hoot, and slowly the rest of the other owls joined. It was as if they were hooting a song, trying to get into Amilek's head.
"No…no, no!
He screamed, shaking his head from side to side, trying to resist their enchantment.
He staggered backwards as his hands were firmly pressed against his ears to shut out the noise. He was trembling; he crumbled to his knees, still screaming…
"No, no!
Suddenly he felt something trickling down his face; he reached out to his face, touching it faintly, and his hands became smeared with a liquid.
Blood!
His eyes were bleeding out, blood streaming down his face. He began to gasp for breath, his chest constricted, and now all he could hear were the owls hooting…
The blood trickled down his face, dropping to the ground.
"What is happening to me? What is going on? Make it stop!
He said, then slowly raised his gaze to meet that of the owl that led him here. It was as if his life was draining out of him.
"Please…make it stop."
He pleaded before lowering his gaze. He was now gasping for breath; he shut his eyes, placing his hand on his chest, as he panted heavily.
"Amilek…Amilek!
He felt a soft tap on his shoulders, and he jolted to reality. Beads of sweat clung to his face; his breathing pace was unsteady.
Amilek blinked his eyes rapidly before finally tracing his gaze to the maid standing in front of him. He looked around, his gaze inadvertently darting to the window in his chamber… It was morning.
"Are you alright?"
The maid asked, and he turned to look at her before nodding his head slowly. The maid had come to prepare him for the day's activity.
"Get me ready. I would like to see my mother."
He said, climbing down from the bed.
Throughout the whole bathing process Amilek's mind wandered, his gaze distant. With each day that passed, he was becoming more solitary, always keeping to himself.
After getting him ready, the maid led Amilek to where Racheal was seated in the garden eating some biscuits. She was seated on a bench swing, a book in her hand.
"Amilek!
She called out gladly when she saw him approaching.
"I can take it from here."
Amilek said to the maid who had been escorting him. The maid nodded curtly and then took her leave; he strolled to where Racheal was and then took his seat beside her.
Racheal planted a kiss on his forehead before rubbing his head.
"You look pale; I am sure you must have missed breakfast again."
She said, and Amilek nodded; this was one of the many lies he had told her just to keep her from bugging him on why his face was always pale.
"You are always eating."
He said, flashing her a glance.
"Well, I am carrying your baby brother in me; it is only natural that I crave food sometimes," she explained.
Amilek's eyes slowly darted to her protruded stomach. He gazed at it intensively for a while, as if he could see through her.
"It's a girl."
He muttered. Racheal was helping herself to some biscuits but passed halfway.
"I didn't know you wanted a baby sister. It could be a boy."
She said before shifting uncomfortably on the bench. Amilek didn't break his gaze away from her protruding stomach.
"It's a girl."
He repeated calmly.
Racheal's brows creased.
"How can you tell?"
She looked confident it was going to be a boy. But how could he explain to her that he could see the unseeable?
He slowly turned away from her before saying,
"I just know."
He sat beside his mother for a while, taking in the serenity of the garden, before finally deciding to retire to his chamber.
He needed to rest in the daytime so that he could be awake at night. When he stepped into his chamber, he immediately made his way to his bed.
He sat on the bed at first and was about to lie down when his eyes caught a faint stain on the sheets. The stain was almost inconspicuous.
Amilek allowed his hands to reach out to the stain on the bedsheet; he glared at it for a fleeting moment before realizing it was….
Blood!
His blood immediately ran cold. What transpired last night? He had thought it wasn't real; he had thought it was a dream.
But clearly, he was wrong.