"No, please… Have mercy, my lord!"
Lorraine's voice cracked with desperation, her body trembling as she fell to her knees, clutching the hem of King Loban's golden robes. Her fingers shook, her grip a silent plea.
But the king's face remained unmoved. His eyes, once warm with love for her, now stared coldly at the fragile bundle in her arms—a newborn, whose breaths came in short, rapid bursts. His tiny fists clenched tightly. What set him apart, what marked him, were his eyes.
Golden. Brilliant. Unnatural.
"The eyes of a god," some whispered in awe, others in fear.
The child let out a weak cry.
"Please," Lorraine begged again, her voice barely a whisper. "I've been barren for years. This child is heaven's gift. And now... you speak of the prophecy?" Her words wavered as tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto the baby's twisted limbs.
King Loban's jaw tightened as he looked at the child's deformities, his crooked legs, his bulging eyes, and his skin that was decorated with strange colourful markings that shimmered under the torchlight like living symbols.
The silence between them grew heavy. Lorraine's heart sank. She saw it, something flickering behind her husband's eyes. Longing, regret or could it be love.
Suddenly, from outside the palace gates, the cries of the people erupted like thunder.
"End the cursed one!"
"Kill the Sinister!"
Their voices filled the air, laced with fear and fury. The crowd surged forward, brandishing torches and weapons, as if ready to storm the palace. The prophecy foretold centuries ago had been clear—a deformed heir with golden eyes would bring destruction to the kingdom.
The people would not allow it.
King Loban's confusion deepened as he faced the royal seer, who stood cloaked in silence beside the throne.
You know what must be done, my king," the seer murmured. His voice was like the rustling of dead leaves—low and mysterious. "The prophecy has been foretold, and this child is its fulfilment. It cannot be destroyed—only delayed. Listen to the people or risk the fall of the kingdom," he warned.
Then, like a shadow dissolving into mist, the seer turned and walked away.
Loban looked at his queen. She was broken, desperate but still holding the child with the tenderness only a mother could offer.
"I will take responsibility," Lorraine said, her voice suddenly calm and solid. "Please… don't kill him. Don't kill Rwaine."
At the name Rwaine, the king's heart softened. He remembered the night they had chosen the name, long before she ever conceived. Rwaine, the promised one. The name whispered in his dreams for years.
Loban dropped to his knees beside her.
"We'll keep him," he whispered. His voice was low but fierce, assuring Lorraine he was ready to bear the consequences. He would protect their child at any cost.
As they held their child, King Logan and Lorraine shared a moment of defiance against both the prophecy and the demands of the people.
That night, the king emerged from the palace holding a bloody, lifeless infant. His face was pale and hollow. His hands trembled.
"The Sinister is dead," he declared, his voice heavy with the weight of his decision.
The people stared at him in stunned silence. Then, slowly, the cries of celebration returned. Joy, relief, triumph. The monster was gone forever.
They never realised they had been deceived.
******
Under the cover of darkness, while the palace slept, King Loban and Queen Lorraine wrapped Rwaine in a cloak and sneaked out with their most loyal eunuch.
They journeyed far beyond the city walls, into the wild mountains, where storms raged and no man dared tread. They found a cave, hidden and forgotten.
Lorraine knelt beside the child, her eyes glistening with tears. As she leaned down to kiss him goodbye, Rwaine's tiny fingers gripped her hair as if sensing her departure, and with unnatural strength, he pulled out her jewelled hairpin.
She gasped but said nothing. She couldn't.
"Please," she whispered to the eunuch, pressing her hand against his. "Protect him. No matter what."
The eunuch bowed his head solemnly. "From this day forth, he is my responsibility. I will protect him until my last breath."
As Loban led his queen away, neither of them dared to look back. They knew this would be the last time they saw their child.
******
But fate had other plans.
Hours later, King Loban returned alone. The eunuch stood at the mouth of the cave, startled by his presence. Why had he returned?
Without emotion, Loban said:
"Kill him."