SOLD TO DARKNESS

"Follow me."

The voice came low from behind her — calm, deliberate, distant.

Aurelia didn't turn immediately.

She had stopped reacting to voices.

Her hands were clenched at her sides, fingers still trembling from the carriage ride, from the weight of the silence that followed her like a chain. She turned, slow as ash drifting in water.

A man stood there.

Draped in black, silver markings stitched into his sleeves. A deep-cut collar, dark gloves. His face was bare — no helmet or mask — but his eyes were hard to hold. Pale gray, like a storm. Like something that had seen too much.

"I am Julius," he said. "Assigned to escort you."

Aurelia didn't respond. Her throat hurt when she tried to speak, and her heart felt like it had sunk somewhere too deep to reach.

He didn't seem to expect a reply. He simply turned and began walking.

She followed.

---

The corridor swallowed sound. Their footsteps were muffled by the plush black carpet running like a river through marble stone. Walls of veined quartz caught the torchlight, but no warmth came from them.

Aurelia walked like someone trying not to feel her body.

Back straight, arms tight around herself, chin tilted slightly — not with pride, but resistance. Survival I would say.

She stared ahead, eyes glassy.

"You may find it quieter here than where you came from," Julius said without looking at her.

She didn't reply , she just wished that he could leave as soon as possible.

"No one disturbs what he claims."

Still nothing.

He looked over his shoulder.

She met his gaze briefly, then looked away. Not with fear — but with that fragile silence people wore when everything familiar had been torn from them.

"Do you wish to say something?" he asked.

Aurelia exhaled.

"I don't know what I have left to say" She replied.

They soon passed beneath a narrow archway.

The walls darkened here — not in color, but in tone. A soft hum, like distant wind through teeth. Silver sconces lit blue candles that swayed with a breeze that didn't exist.

"You have not spoken free since you arrived," Julius said.

"What should I have said?"

Her voice was quiet. Flat.

"Thank you for purchasing me?"

He didn't answer.

They walked another turn. Down another corridor.

Each hallway looked more like a mausoleum than a home.

"He won't hurt you," Julius said. "Not if you follow the rules."

Aurelia gave a bitter laugh.

It didn't sound human.

"I've followed rules my whole life. Look where I am , gone or even dead."

Julius stopped.

She nearly bumped into him.

"I know what it is to lose everything," he said softly.

She met his eyes.

And for one sharp second —

—there was something in him that made her chest ache.

Something old. Sad. Familiar.

But it vanished.

"I don't need comfort," she muttered.

"Just a bed to collapse in."

He turned and walking forward.

They reached a tall door — carved with silver bones and a flower she didn't recognize.

Julius held his hand out and it opened without a sound.

"This is yours."

Aurelia didn't move.

She stared past the threshold — at the room waiting beyond.

Lavish. Quiet. The scent of polished wood and dried lavender. Mirrors lined one wall, the glass curved and fractured, throwing pieces of herself back at her. The bed was massive, the sheets dark and heavy.

Too beautiful. Too empty.

"It doesn't feel like mine," she whispered.

I have to just stay in it , for now

She said to herself as she stepped inside, slowly. Like someone stepping through a dream she didn't want to wake from.

Her hand brushed the edge of the nearest mirror. Cold. Sharp.

"Is this where they keep us?" she said.

"Pretty things on display?"

"No one is watching you now, you're free " he confirmed,

"That's what they always say, isn't it " she said giving out a grin .

He walked to the door slowly, and stood there unmoving.

"You don't talk like the others," she said.

"I'm not like the others."

"You speak like you've been through this."

Silence.

"Have you?" she asked again.

He didn't meet her eyes.

"Yes."

There was something in his voice. Quiet. Controlled. But laced with regret.

"Then you know," she said, her voice cracking faintly,

"how hard it is to keep walking."

He nodded, once.

But when he looked at her again, his face was composed.

"You will survive."

Aurelia let out a shaky breath.

"I don't think I was meant to."

Another silence.

Then — he stepped forward.

"There was a time when you smiled easily," he said, barely above a whisper.

"When your hands were always stained with flower petals."

Her eyes flicked up.

"What?"

He blinked—realizing what he'd said. His face changed.

"I meant… nothing. Rest. I'll return when you're called."

He turned fast — and this time, she was the one left staring after him, confused, chest rising faster.

And somewhere deep inside her, a voice she hadn't heard since childhood whispered:

Gaius.

But no,Gaius is dead and this is a stranger...

She muttered to herself,

The door shut with a soft thud behind her.

Aurelia didn't turn around.

Didn't flinch.

Didn't ask who he was or why he'd been chosen to bring her here.

She simply stood still in the center of the room — staring at the enormous canopied bed, the velvet curtains, the walls that glowed faintly with gold like they were breathing.

Like the house itself was alive.

Behind the door, Julius remained for a moment.

Hand still resting on the door.

Breathing shallow.

Eyes not on the hallway — but on her.

On the girl who no longer remembered him.

Then, slowly, silently, he pulled the door shut between them.

Click.

He stood there — alone in the dim corridor — the torches flickering against the walls like dying stars.

His head dropped forward, resting against the carved wood.

A whisper escaped him. So quiet, even the air barely caught it.

"You've grown so much…"

His hand tightened against the wood — knuckles white.

His voice barely a breath.

Half-prayer. Half-curse.

"I'm sorry."

But there was no one to hear it.

And he wouldn't say it again.

The mask of a servant settled back over his face.

He turned, and walked away.

Like a stranger ,a ghost who'd already said goodbye a long time ago.

To be continued...