There was a sudden stillness around me. I lay on a cold ground, shivering, trying to warm my fingers. I pull my legs to my chest. I dare not open my eyes as I am too afraid to see the flames again. Though, unlike before, I do not feel the heat and straining light on my eyelids. I was stiff and cold.

There was still a question that went unanswered. Where was my Mother? Why wasn't she helping me? I'm freezing...cold, cold, cold. I crossed my arms over my chest and gripped my shoulders.

"Hel..lp.." I manage to utter out from my chapped lips.

"Shhh..." said a voice. An unknown hand brushes strands of my hair from my face.

My eyes were still shut. I didn't know who it was, but it wasn't my Mother. The touch felt unfamiliar. The hand was tender, but I couldn't help the feeling of fear and wariness as I was caressed. I pushed the foreign hands away and lowered my face on my knees.

"Azulia... It's okay. You can open your eyes."

The voice was male. It was deep and rough, but also delicate... like a singer's voice. It reassures me, and he felt familiar. I am still hesitant, though. The fear I feel is still inside me.

His hands reach out to me again and cup my right cheek. He uses his other hand to lift me into his arms. I felt we weren't far from the floor as my feet still touched the icy coldness of the ground. I lay my head on the man's chest and sank into the only warmth I could find.

"Princess, it's okay... I'm here. Please, open your eyes. "The man said.

And I did—my vision filled with darkness. The man said nothing. He was silent for so long I was afraid he had gone away. I was scared he had left me. I worry for nothing, as I was still firm in his arms.

Then, he spoke. "You have such dark eyes. Dark... blue eyes."

"You can see me?" I asked. I couldn't see him at all. He hid in the darkness. The shadows concealed his face, and I could only sense his movement.

He was silent again, bypassing my question. I squint my eyes in an attempt to see his face. The darkness was too complete, and I notice that he moved his face away from me.

"What's your name?" I asked, practically begging for him to say something.

"I'm-," he paused, "I don't have a name."

"Answer my question." I forced.

"I don't have a name." He replied sharply, almost as if he were angry. To this, I silenced.

"Can you help me?" I whisper. It is so dark that I don't even know where I am. Maybe he can guide me since he has such good eyes. To be frank, the darkness felt unnatural.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"I don't know, Princess."

"Please! Please! I need you to help me!" I begged. I took his hand in mine and held it tight. Even in the darkness, I knew his expression was bleak and unhopeful.

"Sorry, I don't even know how you got here."

His words surprised me. Was I not at the palace? Where was I? I push myself from his grip and sat up. I turn my head, trying to scan my surroundings. I can't see a thing. All corners of my vision overflowed with black. Darkness. Nothing.

"What do you mean?" I turn back to him. "Where am I?!" I snapped. I gritted my teeth, and my eyes flare. It must have been him! He's trying to kill me! "Who are you.. you sinful wrench! I know you! You're the one who poisoned me that day! I'm going to tell my Mother, and you'll be killed!" Immediately I get on my feet and back away. I no longer feel safe. This man, he's going to murder me.

"Princess... calm down. I have done no wrongdoing." He says calmly. I hear him rise from his knees. His footsteps click as he walks closer to me. I stood, my knees bent, ready to bolt any second. One by one, my feet step back, as he draws closer and closer.

"Stay away," I mutter under my breath. If only I had a weapon!

"Would you like some light, Princess?" He asked softly.

"Light?"

"Yes," he murmured, "Light." Then suddenly, a bright fire lit in front of my eyes. I saw the hands of the man; they were masculine and tan. He held fire in his palms as if he created it from nothing. Like, magic; nothing like I'd ever seen before. The fire was small, though. It was only big enough to show his hands to his feet. His face still buried in the shadows.

"H- how..?" I gasp. I was experiencing the divine power of gods! Impossible!

He tilts his chin, so his lips are visible in the light. A smirk spreads across his face, and he laughs. "Princess..." he begins, his lips moving as if they were mocking me. "Do you like music?" He creates another fire in his other hand and opened his arms wide, like he was waiting for my embrace.

I didn't move. Every movement he made, shone as if they were wicked and eerie. My heart pounded in my chest. Was he taunting me?

"Don't be afraid. Shouldn't a Princess be entertained while we are acquainted here?"

"I- No! You keep your hands to yourself! I have no further questions- You... you..., monster!" I scream. My hands form into a claw-like shape, and I try to scratch his face. Before I can touch him, his body fades, leaving me in darkness.

From behind me, I hear him laugh. "Princess! I asked you a question. Haven't you learned proper manners? Oh, dear. "His voice booms through my ears.

I turn to see a light that shining atop a varnished glimmering black piano. Footsteps click as the man walks up from behind the piano into the light. At that moment, his face was clear as day. His face, like an illusion, had lifeless eyes; it was the most terrifyingly beautiful thing I'd ever seen. His hair was glossy black and curly. He wore a black tuxedo like a groom at a wedding. His skin was tan; you could see a small dark speck just under both his eyes. His lips were pink and lay straight as he watched me scan him.

"Who...?" I began.

"Shhh... Princess, let me play you a song," he whispers. Although it was a whisper, I heard it loud and clear in my ears. "Notre musique silencieuse," he mutters.

I didn't understand what he had said. It sounded like an ancient language. Although I've studied many languages, I need not consider the ones that are no longer used.

He sits in the black leather stool and lifts the hands that once caressed me onto the piano. His fingers rest on the keys. The silent darkness watches him, waiting for his fingers to dance. His left-hand sweeps across the keys, not playing a single note until it reaches one key. The note was beautiful, and so were the ones that followed. He plays a sorrowful waltz. One that sleeping beauty might have danced to in her dreams.

My knees weaken as he performs. I sink to the icy ground and watch him in awe. I don't know how long I had remained there listening. His delicate playing seemed to last for days, weeks, maybe. Nonetheless, I sat, watching. I was entranced.

The piece he plays has it's own voice as if it is singing to me. It sings me a heartbreaking story. The voice said that there was once a boy who fancied a girl. She never did love him back the way he did her. Soon, they drifted apart, and he became forgotten. He was alone in his own pessimism. He called out to the voices in his head that sang him songs on his birthday. They responded only in silence. In the end, he perished in anguish and despair, leaving behind only his bleeding heart for his once true love.

The man's black eyes would not blink as he played. Tears soon fell from them, and he would not wipe them away either. His eyes stare blankly at the keys he gracefully touches. When the song reaches its climax, the song yells at the girl the boy loved. It shouts, "Please! Please! My dear love... don't leave. Stay with me; stay here with me!"

The song sang the feeling of emptiness as the girl left. The last key sang it's note, and the man sat there, tears falling from his black eyes. His arms fall to his side, almost as if he were dead. He then turns to me and smiles. His teeth sparkle in the light.

"Princess, did you like the song?" he asks with a snicker. His thick dark brows knit together.

Suddenly my head feels dizzy and tired. My eyes blur, and I have the urge to sleep.

"Princess, are you alright?" I hear the man ask, but his voice was muffled.

My body collapses to the ground, and I no longer can sit up. My cheek touches the cold floor, and I wince. The man says something, but I cannot hear him. My eyes become heavy, and I try not to drift away, afraid of the flames I might meet again.

But I cannot control myself, and I fall into another slumber. My eyes catch one last blurred illusion, though. Black wings.