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Game of Illusions: Vengeance of the Blind Heir 030 | A Rotting Soul (Nyx)
I exist in many places at once.The city whispers my name in the dark, a flickering shadow slipping through the cracks of locked doors, lingering in the hush of frightened voices. In alleyways, men speak of me in cautious tones. In grand halls, nobles glance over their shoulders, wondering if I am watching.Children, huddled beneath their blankets, hear stories of the man who walks between worlds, the specter who listens even when no one is watching. They say I can be anywhere. That I am everywhere.And they are not wrong. I walk the halls of Lavinia’s mansion, where illusions weave themselves into reality like a second skin.I stand in Zenthio’s mansion, where cruelty is currency, and the weak are devoured whole.And now, I am here. The Queen’s palace.The morning light filters through the stained-glass windows, casting fractured colors across the polished marble floor. The scent of spiced tea and warm pastries lingers in the air, mingling with the sharp ink of freshly opened letters
Game of Illusions: Vengeance of the Blind Heir 031 | Homecoming as a Foe (Helio)
The gates of the Marquess’s estate stand before me, just as they always have—imposing, grand, and heavy with the weight of a legacy I once called my own. The wrought iron, polished to a merciless shine, gleams under the midday sun, its intricate patterns curling like the veins of an old tree.I have walked through these gates before. I was raised behind them. Yet today, as I step forward with Hale and Rhea at my side, I am a guest in my own home.The knights stationed at the entrance stand rigid, their polished armor reflecting the light like mirrors of steel. They recognize me instantly—of course, they do—but their hands tighten around their weapons, unsure of what to do with their knowledge.The hesitation is thick in the air.Once, they would have bowed without question. Once, they would have greeted me as a son of the house Alessio, not as an outsider. But times have changed. And so have I.I hear their whispers before I even pass the threshold."The blind heir has returned.""The
Game of Illusions: Vengeance of the Blind Heir 032 | Flicker of Hope (Helio)
The tension in my hands lingers long after we leave Zenthio’s office.My steps are steady, my posture composed, but something raw lingers beneath my skin. The weight of his words—he’s probably dead—still coils in my chest, threatening to drag my mind into a place I do not wish to go.But I cannot afford to lose focus. Not now.Hale walks beside me, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, his usual sharp remarks absent. Rhea follows a step behind, silent, her face hidden beneath the loose strands of her dark hair. She has not spoken since we left the office.The estate is quieter than I remember. Too quiet. The servants keep their heads down as we pass, their eyes avoiding mine, their footsteps hurried as if they fear they will be punished simply for being seen. The walls, though untouched in their grandeur, feel emptier. The great tapestries still hang in the corridors, the chandeliers still cast their golden light upon the marble floors, but there is no warmth. No life.We pass the h
Game of Illusions: Vengeance of the Blind Heir 033 | Secrets Beneath the City (Helio)
The underground market is a place that should not exist—at least, not in the eyes of the nobility. It thrives beneath the heart of the city, hidden beneath layers of cobbled streets and forgotten tunnels. To those who live above, it is merely a rumor, a whispered secret passed between cautious lips.But to those who know how to find it, it is something else entirely.A refuge. A kingdom of its own. A place where laws bend and reality shifts, where magic is not bound by the careful rules of scholars and noble bloodlines.The entrance is unremarkable—an old iron grate set into a quiet alleyway, half-buried in debris. To the unknowing, it looks like nothing more than a forgotten drainage system, long abandoned. But beneath it, a staircase carves into the earth, leading to something far older than the city above.I step forward first, feeling the shift in the air the moment my boot touches the stone. Hale follows closely, muttering under his breath about the smell—a mixture of damp earth,
Game of Illusions: Vengeance of the Blind Heir 034 | Between Pain and Memory (Julian)
Pain does not leave me. It clings to my skin, presses against my ribs, curls around my wrists like unseen chains. My body is sore, my limbs weak, every breath a slow, dragging effort. The damp forest floor is cold beneath me, but my fever makes everything feel unbearably warm, as if I am burning from the inside out.I do not know how long I have been here. Long enough for the world to blur. Long enough for my mind to slip between the present and the past. And in that haze of exhaustion, of pain, of near delirium, I remember the city. The City That Had Nothing LeftI remember standing in the streets of my home and realizing it was no longer mine. The city had been drained.The marketplace that once thrived with merchants and traders was now filled with empty stalls and sunken-eyed vendors. Goods that had once been within reach—fine fabrics, fresh produce, spiced tea—were now luxuries only the wealthiest could afford. The people were struggling.I had seen fathers counting their last co
Game of Illusions: Vengeance of the Blind Heir 001 | Judgment of the Sacred Tome (Helio)
My name is Helio Hawthorn. I know. You think that name doesn’t suit me, but I am indeed part of the Hawthorn family. I am the third son of Marquess Alessio. Even if I’m the illegitimate child of a servant. Even if I was born blind. Even if I—well, the point is, I never chose to be born a Hawthorn under these circumstances.Today is Tuesday. The day I turned eighteen. The day I finally meet the Sacred Tome.The sun blazes at the edge of rain-bearing clouds, its heat pressing against my skin. The wind blows from the west, carrying the scent of roses from the mansion’s garden. As I walk toward the canopy where the Sacred Tome awaits me, I hear every guest whispering about me."Look at his bright red hair, just like a commoner’s. So different from his silver-haired, elegant siblings.""Why are we even here? He’s just the third son, and he’s blind. He won’t play a role in noble society.""Let’s hope the Sacred Tome is wise enough. A half-mortal like him shouldn’t receive the same magic as
Game of Illusions: Vengeance of the Blind Heir 002 | Entangled in a Wicked Plot (Helio)
"I’ll make sure you, Actavio, and that wretched mother of yours end up as beggars."I don’t pretend his words don’t hurt. They slice through me, sharp and direct. But I hold my smile. “It wasn’t my mother who abandoned her family for a Grand Duke, Zenthio,” I say. “She stayed in this house for years—to care for us. To care for you.”I see the way my words hit Zenthio and his siblings. I know I’ve gone too far—it’s not their fault. Guilt crawls up my spine, but I push it down. Because every time Zenthio or Demario insults my mother, I feel the same sting. And as always, he doesn’t even flinch.Zenthio lets out a dry laugh. “Care for me? And what exactly can a mortal like your mother do, Helio? Sweep the floors? Scrub the halls?”"Everything alright?" Bernard’s voice cuts in, sudden and unwelcome. I pray he hasn’t been listening, but the moment he speaks again, my hope crumbles. “Helio, can we talk later?”⚔️I always hate the way Bernard closes the library doors before one of our serio
Game of Illusions: Vengeance of the Blind Heir 003 | Game of Despair (Helio)
"Where do you think you can go, Helio?" Zenthio asks, his voice laced with threat as he yanks my shoulder and shoves me to the floor. I instinctively reach for my white cane, but I hear the soft swoosh of air as Demario pulls it away from me.My teeth clench. "You’re a traitor. All of you! Especially you, Bernard!" I shout. "Why are you doing this? You were our tutor. I trusted you!""Helio," Bernard replies, too calm for someone who just planned the assassination of a high noble. "Some things are bigger than you think. I’m doing this for a better future.""What?""Enough with the lessons, Bernard. I can't stand another one from you—I'm sick of it." Zenthio chuckles coldly. He presses down on my shoulder and grips it tight. I try to resist, but his grasp is too strong."I'm sick of you too, Helio," he sneers, his voice dripping with hatred. "Father always paid attention to you, with all that nonsense about you being smarter than us or whatever. But from now on, I’ll make sure everythi
Latest Chapter
034 | Between Pain and Memory (Julian)
Pain does not leave me. It clings to my skin, presses against my ribs, curls around my wrists like unseen chains. My body is sore, my limbs weak, every breath a slow, dragging effort. The damp forest floor is cold beneath me, but my fever makes everything feel unbearably warm, as if I am burning from the inside out.I do not know how long I have been here. Long enough for the world to blur. Long enough for my mind to slip between the present and the past. And in that haze of exhaustion, of pain, of near delirium, I remember the city. The City That Had Nothing LeftI remember standing in the streets of my home and realizing it was no longer mine. The city had been drained.The marketplace that once thrived with merchants and traders was now filled with empty stalls and sunken-eyed vendors. Goods that had once been within reach—fine fabrics, fresh produce, spiced tea—were now luxuries only the wealthiest could afford. The people were struggling.I had seen fathers counting their last co
033 | Secrets Beneath the City (Helio)
The underground market is a place that should not exist—at least, not in the eyes of the nobility. It thrives beneath the heart of the city, hidden beneath layers of cobbled streets and forgotten tunnels. To those who live above, it is merely a rumor, a whispered secret passed between cautious lips.But to those who know how to find it, it is something else entirely.A refuge. A kingdom of its own. A place where laws bend and reality shifts, where magic is not bound by the careful rules of scholars and noble bloodlines.The entrance is unremarkable—an old iron grate set into a quiet alleyway, half-buried in debris. To the unknowing, it looks like nothing more than a forgotten drainage system, long abandoned. But beneath it, a staircase carves into the earth, leading to something far older than the city above.I step forward first, feeling the shift in the air the moment my boot touches the stone. Hale follows closely, muttering under his breath about the smell—a mixture of damp earth,
032 | Flicker of Hope (Helio)
The tension in my hands lingers long after we leave Zenthio’s office.My steps are steady, my posture composed, but something raw lingers beneath my skin. The weight of his words—he’s probably dead—still coils in my chest, threatening to drag my mind into a place I do not wish to go.But I cannot afford to lose focus. Not now.Hale walks beside me, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, his usual sharp remarks absent. Rhea follows a step behind, silent, her face hidden beneath the loose strands of her dark hair. She has not spoken since we left the office.The estate is quieter than I remember. Too quiet. The servants keep their heads down as we pass, their eyes avoiding mine, their footsteps hurried as if they fear they will be punished simply for being seen. The walls, though untouched in their grandeur, feel emptier. The great tapestries still hang in the corridors, the chandeliers still cast their golden light upon the marble floors, but there is no warmth. No life.We pass the h
031 | Homecoming as a Foe (Helio)
The gates of the Marquess’s estate stand before me, just as they always have—imposing, grand, and heavy with the weight of a legacy I once called my own. The wrought iron, polished to a merciless shine, gleams under the midday sun, its intricate patterns curling like the veins of an old tree.I have walked through these gates before. I was raised behind them. Yet today, as I step forward with Hale and Rhea at my side, I am a guest in my own home.The knights stationed at the entrance stand rigid, their polished armor reflecting the light like mirrors of steel. They recognize me instantly—of course, they do—but their hands tighten around their weapons, unsure of what to do with their knowledge.The hesitation is thick in the air.Once, they would have bowed without question. Once, they would have greeted me as a son of the house Alessio, not as an outsider. But times have changed. And so have I.I hear their whispers before I even pass the threshold."The blind heir has returned.""The
030 | A Rotting Soul (Nyx)
I exist in many places at once.The city whispers my name in the dark, a flickering shadow slipping through the cracks of locked doors, lingering in the hush of frightened voices. In alleyways, men speak of me in cautious tones. In grand halls, nobles glance over their shoulders, wondering if I am watching.Children, huddled beneath their blankets, hear stories of the man who walks between worlds, the specter who listens even when no one is watching. They say I can be anywhere. That I am everywhere.And they are not wrong. I walk the halls of Lavinia’s mansion, where illusions weave themselves into reality like a second skin.I stand in Zenthio’s mansion, where cruelty is currency, and the weak are devoured whole.And now, I am here. The Queen’s palace.The morning light filters through the stained-glass windows, casting fractured colors across the polished marble floor. The scent of spiced tea and warm pastries lingers in the air, mingling with the sharp ink of freshly opened letters
029 | Ashes and Fear (Helio)
The aroma of tea drifts through the small dining room, weaving into the morning air like a gentle promise of warmth. The scent of toasted bread lingers beneath it, rich with butter, mingling with the faint traces of honey and herbs. The wooden table, though plain and slightly uneven, is covered with simple ceramic dishes, a teapot at its center, steam curling lazily from its spout.It is a humble meal. But there is something oddly grounding about it.I lift my teacup, feeling the comforting warmth seep into my fingertips as I take a slow sip. The bitter taste is softened by honey, smooth and lingering on my tongue. I exhale, setting the cup down with a quiet clink against the wooden surface.Across from me, Hale is already halfway through his second sandwich, chewing with little care for propriety. His younger sister, Ellemira, watches him with a mix of amusement and disapproval, her own hands wrapped delicately around a cup of tea that looks too large for her small fingers.Rhea, how
028 | Traces that Vanished (Helio)
The scent of damp wood and old stone lingers in the air as I shut the door behind me. The night outside is still, the city beyond Hale’s home quiet in a way that unsettles me. Too much silence is dangerous—it means fear has settled into the bones of this place, pressing into its people like an unspoken warning.But I do not linger on it. Not now.I step into my room and let the illusion settle over reality like a second skin.The rough-hewn walls smooth into dark mahogany, the warped wooden floor shifts beneath my boots into polished marble. A silk canopy drapes over a bed far too fine for a place like this, its fabric swaying gently despite the still air.None of it is real.The truth lies beneath the glamour—cracked beams, uneven floorboards, the faint scent of mildew clinging to the corners of the room. A simple cot in place of a grand bed. A single, unlit candle instead of the illusionary chandelier that hangs above me.I do not need luxury.But the i
027 | Lavinia's Game (Nyx)
Julian is still breathing. Barely.His body lies curled in the dirt like a discarded piece of trash, his limbs twitching as waves of pain ripple through his broken nerves. The illusion I left him in has not faded. It wraps around him like chains, feeding him agony, whispering false suffering into every fiber of his being. His skin glistens with sweat, his breath comes in short, desperate gasps, and yet—He does not beg. He does not scream anymore. He endures.A lesser man would have long since lost himself to madness, crushed beneath the weight of pain with no wound to prove it. A weaker soul would have shattered into something unrecognizable, pleading for mercy that would never come.But Julian clings to himself with an admirable, if utterly pointless, determination.I stand over him, my shadow stretching long in the dim light of the ruined alleyway. I watch the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers tighten in the dirt as if clinging to the last remnants of his former life.
026 | Wake-up Call (Helio)
Pain blossoms across my jaw before I even register the movement. The impact snaps my head to the side, my ears ringing, the taste of iron blooming across my tongue. I stagger but do not fall. My grip tightens around my cane, steadying myself. My breath hitches for a moment before evening out, but the pain lingers—a dull, throbbing ache where Hale’s fist connected. He hit me. Hale hit me. I exhale slowly, tilting my head back toward him. “Are you finished?” My voice is level, but there is a coldness beneath it. Hale stands rigid, his chest rising and falling sharply. His fist is still clenched, his knuckles white. His entire body is wound tight, as if he’s barely holding himself together. “No,” he growls. “Not even close.” I swipe my thumb against my lip, smearing the blood there. “So that’s how we’re handling disagreements now?” Hale scoffs, his face twisted in frustration. “I don’t know how else to get through to you.” He takes a step forward, his eyes burning. “You weren’t liste
