Path of the Extra

After finally calming her tears, Mio quickly found her fan and hid her flushed face behind it, peeking bashfully at Lykos, who watched her with gentle amusement.

“What’s the point in hiding your tears now? It’s not like I don’t already know you’re a crybaby.”

“I-I’m not a crybaby!” Mio protested from behind the fan.

He laughed softly, a warm, comforting sound.

“Very well, you’re not a crybaby.”

Suddenly, he stepped forward. Mio instinctively backed away, heart fluttering wildly, but Lykos’s strides were longer, easily closing the distance. Gently yet firmly, he took her hand, guiding her closer as his other arm wrapped protectively around her back. Mio slowly lowered her fan, heart pounding against her ribs.

“I wish nothing more than to take you away from here at once,” he murmured softly. “But there’s still something we must do tonight.”

“What… what is it?” Mio asked hesitantly.

Lykos’s expression shifted, a dangerous smile curving his lips, sending a nervous chill down her spine.

“You’ll see soon enough,” he whispered, his voice dangerously soft.

“All you need to do is stay by my side.”

Suddenly, he released her and stepped back, gracefully kneeling before her. Taking her right hand tenderly in his, he looked up into her startled eyes.

“My lady, would you grant me the honor of escorting you at tonight’s debutante ceremony?”

Mio’s eyes widened in surprise, then she lowered her head slightly, cheeks flushed.

“The honor would be mine, Your Highness.”

With a pleased smile, Lykos stood and gently guided her away, leading Mio through a series of unfamiliar, empty corridors, up a winding staircase, and finally stopping before a grand set of doors. Through them, the faint sounds of elegant music drifted.

Extending his arm gracefully, Lykos offered her a silent invitation. Mio hesitated briefly before slipping her delicate arm around his.

Her face burned even hotter at their closeness.

‘This… this feels like we’re actually a couple.’

Smiling faintly, Lykos opened the doors smoothly. Bright, dazzling lights flooded Mio’s vision. Before she knew it, they stood atop the grand staircase—the very staircase meant only for Duke Corvaris’s youngest daughter.

In an instant, all eyes locked upon them.

The music abruptly ceased. Conversations died away, replaced by heavy silence.

Without a word, Lykos reached up and elegantly removed his ivory mask, revealing a face so breathtakingly perfect it seemed sculpted by divine hands. Golden eyes glittered coldly as he scanned the stunned crowd.

Then, in a voice sharp enough to cut steel, he spoke:

“Is this how you all greet your future king?”

For several stunned seconds, no one reacted.

Then realization struck.

One man fell to his knees, and like a wave, all others swiftly followed, voices trembling in unison:

“We greet the future sun of Isymr, His Highness, Crown Prince Lykos Aureliath.”

Lykos nodded coldly.

“It appears basic etiquette still resides somewhere inside your cotton-stuffed heads. Not entirely disappointing, I suppose.”

Many flinched visibly at his cutting words.

“Though clearly, new laws and better education will be necessary for you all.”

“What is the meaning of this, Prince Lykos?” a stern voice demanded sharply.

A tall, imposing man ascended the stairs toward them, his dark hair impeccably swept aside.

“Duke Corvaris,” Lykos greeted smoothly, eyes gleaming coldly.

“It’s been quite a while. Congratulations on your youngest daughter’s debutante ceremony.” He tilted his head mockingly.

“Though, speaking of, where is dear little Selene?”

The Duke’s lips twitched in irritation.

“Your Highness, though your presence here honors us, please understand this display is highly inappropriate for someone of your esteemed status.”

“Inappropriate?” Lykos echoed quietly, his smile growing colder.

“The only inappropriate thing here is how the Dukes—and indeed House Aureliath itself—have utterly failed in educating their subjects.”

The Duke’s eyes flared angrily, but Lykos swiftly released Mio’s arm, stepping forward to address the stunned assembly below, his voice thunderous:

“We are the children of the sun, proud blood of Isymr—heirs to a kingdom crowned in fire and glory! Yet you stand here, disgracing that legacy as though it were no more valuable than dirt beneath your feet!”

“Your Highness, that is enough! Who do you think you are, acting so—”

“Utter one more syllable, Duke,” Lykos hissed venomously, “and I swear you’ll regret it beyond comprehension.”

The ballroom’s atmosphere grew oppressively heavy as tension crackled between them. A moment later, Lykos lowered his voice into a chilling whisper only the Duke could fully grasp.

“For the sake of your two daughters—do not interfere.”

The Duke paled visibly, his eyes widening in shock as realization struck him. He staggered slightly backward, nearly stumbling down the stairs, before abruptly lowering his head and ascending again.

Fearful curiosity seized the guests, who watched incredulously as the Duke—approached and knelt respectfully before the Crown Prince.

Lykos offered his right hand silently, and the Duke grasped it, reciting solemnly:

“Let the sun’s eternal flame enshroud Isymr in warmth, and let its fury descend upon those who seek to snuff out its light. I welcome the new king—hail the sun!”

A wave of astonishment swept through the crowd. It wasn’t until Lykos subtly adjusted his collar, revealing the intricate tattoo of the blazing sun on his chest, that realization finally crashed upon them.

At once, every knee hit the floor again, voices rising fervently:

“Hail the sun!”

“Hail the sun!”

“Hail the sun!”

The chant echoed relentlessly, shaking the ballroom.

With regal calmness, Lykos turned and gently returned to Mio’s side. Her eyes were wide, her body trembling, utterly stunned.

“I suppose this wasn’t the ideal way to reveal such news,” he murmured lightly, though she could sense slight amusement in his tone.

“Father will be utterly mortified.”

Before Mio could process any further, Lykos softly wrapped an arm around her, turning once more to face the awestruck crowd.

Her face flamed brilliantly, heart racing uncontrollably.

“In the name of the sun and by my authority as king, I proclaim before all gathered: behold your future queen, the star ordained to shine eternally by my side. From this moment onward, let her name forever be known—Mio Aureliath!”

“…Eh?”

The entire ballroom thundered in response:

“Glory to the Star that walks beside the Sun!”

“Glory to the Star that walks beside the Sun!”

“Glory to the Star that walks beside the Sun!”

Mio felt her head spin, reality slipping away beneath her feet.

‘The Star…? Am I the Star? Queen? Did… did I just become a queen?’

Lykos’s gentle voice broke through her confusion, whispering softly to her alone:

“Mio…”

‘No, don’t tell me—!’

“…I will never leave you alone again.”

“Ah…” Mio struggled, words caught painfully in her throat. Her heart twisted painfully, overwhelmed and bewildered.

Was this his true intention all along?

‘I’ve been deceived once more…’

Yet strangely, she felt no anger. No resentment.

“I’m sorry,” Lykos whispered tenderly, quietly enough for only her ears.

Mio hesitated briefly before shaking her head lightly.

“No… it’s okay… I think.”

“Is that so?” he asked gently. Mio could sense his quiet relief—his subtle joy.

“…Idiot,” she muttered softly.

He smiled bitterly, eyes filled with gentle remorse.

“Yes, perhaps I am. Just like them—a fool.”

Her gaze softened. And yet, despite everything, Mio couldn’t bring herself to pull away from him.

Instead, her heart whispered silently:

‘And I am the biggest fool of them all.’

*****

Undoubtedly, news would soon ripple outward, not merely through Ismyr but throughout the entire world. As the guests gradually departed, Mio and Lykos prepared to leave as well.

Sir Iskiel immediately rushed forward, anxiety etched into every line of his face. He opened his mouth to speak, yet the moment he saw Lykos clearly, his eyes widened in shock.

“Y-Your Highness…!”

“It has been a while, Sir Iskiel,” Lykos greeted calmly, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips.

Instantly, Iskiel dropped to one knee, head bowed deeply.

“I greet the future sun of—”

“Not future, Iskiel,” Lykos interrupted quietly, with an air of finality.

“Though not formally announced yet, by tomorrow it will be official. I am the new King of Ismyr, and the lady whom you serve shall be your new queen.”

Iskiel froze, his eyes unseeing, his mind caught somewhere between disbelief and astonishment. Mio gave him a sympathetic glance as she passed by, leaning slightly against Lykos as they walked towards their carriage.

Truthfully, Mio felt dazed. Everything had happened so abruptly, without warning or preparation, leaving her feeling oddly intoxicated—as if reality itself had begun to slip from her grasp.

Quietly, hesitantly, she finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“Where else?” Lykos replied gently.

“To the palace, where you will remain by my side… Unless, of course, you need some time to adjust?”

Mio shook her head softly. Strangely enough, she felt safe beside him.

“No, it’s alright. Let’s… let’s go to the palace.”

Just as Lykos offered his hand to help her into the carriage, a sudden commotion erupted nearby.

“What the hell—?!”

“Prepare yourselves! Who would have thought something like this could happen in the capital!”

Their heads snapped toward the chaos. From the shadows stumbled a figure—an elderly woman clad entirely in black robes, staggering as though drunk. Yet, as she came into the pale light, everyone recoiled in horror.

Her eyes were blank, featureless orbs, weeping trails of dark blood. Black, pulsating veins crawled beneath her skin like living roots.

Lykos clicked his tongue, his expression cold.

“A Corrupted…”

Knights swiftly encircled her, swords drawn, but oddly, the woman did not attack. Instead, she fell heavily to her knees, blood still pouring from her empty eyes. Then, slowly, her blind gaze fixed unmistakably upon Mio.

Mio felt her blood turn to ice.

“The sun…” the woman rasped. Her voice was harsh, scraping painfully against everyone’s nerves.

Lykos narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Mio trembled slightly, whispering urgently,

“Y-Your Highness… that woman is… was a seer.”

His golden eyes flicked briefly to her.

“How do you know that?”

Mio’s face flushed scarlet.

‘I… I can’t possibly tell him I recognize her from when I secretly asked about my future marriage!’

“W-Well, t-that’s… a long story…” Mio stammered awkwardly, averting her gaze.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Lykos replied, clearly skeptical. Mio’s embarrassment deepened, a cold sweat prickling her skin.

“Please don’t…” she murmured faintly.

“The sun…” the seer repeated, her voice grating louder this time.

“Tch! Just kill the damned thing already—she keeps repeating the same nonsense!” one knight spat impatiently.

“Wait,” Lykos commanded sharply, and every knight instantly froze at his authority. The air thickened ominously.

Then the seer’s voice rose once more, clearer now, yet hauntingly melodious—as though she were singing softly to the abyss itself:

“When the sun… is swallowed whole,

And skies turn blind, black as coal,

Do not ask what hides the light—

Close both eyes. Forget your sight.”

Terror for some odd reason clawed at Mio’s chest.

‘She… she’s singing…?’

“If the stars… begin to hum,

And all you hear is distant drum,

Do not run and do not wait—

Breathe in ash. Seal the gate.

When all you see is nothing still,

And time grows cold against your will,

Do not move, and do not cry—

To weep is how the virtuous die.

If your name begins to fade,

Burn the thread, and curse the blade.

Say no truth. Speak no lie.

Say nothing, and you might not die.

Eat no bread if it is warm.

Drink no wine in perfect form.

Do not kneel to gods or kings—

It devours all holy and unholy things.

When the first sin knocks your door,

Let it pass—take in no more.

When virtue smiles, do not reply—

The purest light will rot the eye.

If the mirror shows no face,

Leave your name. Destroy the place.

Break the glass and cut the thread,

Or join the ones who dream as dead.

When bells ring once, and none reply,

Lie on stone and do not sigh.

Hold your breath. Count to three.

It is near, and it is—”

The seer’s words abruptly halted.

In an instant, Lykos stood beside her, a slender, double-edged blade gleaming coldly in his hand. Before anyone could react, the seer’s head rolled silently to the ground, spilling black blood across the cobblestones.

Mio shut her eyes tightly.

“I have no patience for this madness,” Lykos murmured darkly, disgust evident in his voice.

Quickly, knights moved forward, carefully removing the twisted remains of the corrupted seer. The eerie tension dissipated slowly, yet a shadow lingered in their minds.

No one spoke. Even the journey back to the palace unfolded in complete silence, the carriage filled only by the quiet hum of wheels upon stone and the distant echoes of haunting, unfinished verses.