Izana walked silently through the upstairs hallway, each step measured against the weight of memories that clung to the marble tiles. The corridor stretched long and still, light filtering faintly from the floor-to-ceiling windows along one side, dust motes drifting lazily in the beams. At the far end, a heavy wooden door waited, its surface dark and polished, almost ominous. The grain of the wood seemed to shift under his gaze, whispering echoes of what he had tried to bury.
He slowed, stopping just before it. His chest rose and fell unevenly beneath his tailored black shirt. His hands hung by his sides, knuckles pale. The door pressed against his thoughts, stubborn, immovable. He stared at it, the memory pressing in like a pulse.
Don't open it. Don't remember.
The words repeated themselves in his mind like a warning, a mantra, and he turned his head, breaking his gaze.
Shaking off the pull of the past, he continued down the hallway, moving toward the quieter wing of the mansion where his own room awaited. The air was still, heavy with the scent of polished tiles and fresh paint. Silence seemed almost physical here, absorbing sound, weighing against every footstep.
At last, he reached his room. The door closed behind him with a faint click, sealing him in near-complete darkness. Only a thin sliver of light seeped through from the hallway, illuminating just enough to outline the edges of the king-sized bed at the center. Slowly, Izana removed his white blindfold.
For a moment, his eyes were ordinary, reflective of exhaustion and strain. Then they glowed.
Piercing green light radiated from them, unnatural and unrelenting, illuminating his face in sharp relief. His tired expression hardened as he blinked, adjusting to the quiet darkness of the room that now seemed to respond to him.
He collapsed onto the bed, silk sheets tangling around his arms. His back hit the mattress with a soft, almost defeated thud, and his hand rose instinctively to his chest, fingers tracing the familiar ridges beneath his shirt. A sharp breath hissed past his lips.
"Ngh… Damn it," he groaned, the sound harsh in the stillness.
The green light flared briefly, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. Sweat beaded along his forehead. His eyes squeezed shut, and the memory struck, unbidden.
"Not again… please… make it stop," he whispered, the words fragile in the dark.
For a long moment, the room was silent but for his ragged breathing, the faint rustle of sheets, and the subtle green glow that refused to dim.
Morning broke over the mansion in blinding clarity. Sunlight spilled across the sweeping driveway, glinting off the black sedan parked neatly beside the steps. A young woman stood there, travel bag in hand, surveying the mansion with cautious curiosity. Leah Gryphon. Blonde hair caught the sun in sharp halos. The weight of her bag pulled at her shoulder, but she held herself upright, proud and wary.
Elias leaned on his cane in the doorway, tall despite his age, a mixture of patience and authority in his posture. He gestured with a free hand, welcoming, deliberate.
"Welcome, Leah. Please, come in," Elias said, his voice smooth, commanding yet not unkind.
Inside the mansion, Dante stepped forward. The sunlight bounced off his polished suit, the edges of his muscular frame sharp against the soft marble of the entrance hall. He offered Leah a polite smile and reached for her bag.
"Allow me, Miss Gryphon," Dante said, bowing his head slightly, practiced and respectful. "I'll take your bag directly to your room."
Relieved, Leah handed over the heavy bag. She gave Dante a small, grateful smile as her hair caught the sunlight streaming through the glass doors.
"Thank you. It weighs a ton," she said, grateful but amused.
Elias stepped aside, leaning lightly on his cane, motioning for Leah to follow him into the grand interior of the mansion.
"I'll show you around while we wait for Izana," Elias said calmly, his voice steady, though a shadow of concern lingered at the edges.
Leah watched him move, noting the slow precision of his steps, the weight of age in the careful way he leaned on the cane. She followed, curiosity mixing uneasily with apprehension.
The corridor stretched before them, light pouring in through floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside, the garden bloomed lushly, green spilling across the manicured lawns. In stark contrast, a brutalist concrete bunker rose unexpectedly in the midst of it, angular and severe. Leah's steps slowed as she approached the window.
That building looks… different.
Her finger hovered, tracing the outline of the bunker against the sunlit garden.
"Mr. Elias… what is that concrete building?" Leah asked, curiosity laced with concern.
"The one with the steel door?" Elias added, his voice calm but deliberate. He stopped walking, leaning slightly on his cane, hands resting atop it as he studied the bunker. "Do you know the extent of Izana's curse?"
Leah shook her head slightly. "Only that it has severe health effects," she admitted.
Elias's eyes darkened. Daylight highlighted the deep lines etched into his face. "It is… more than just health problems," he said, voice heavy with gravity. "It takes things from him that no man should lose."
He straightened and gestured forward, motioning for Leah to continue down the corridor. "But don't worry. You'll find out soon enough."
Leah's gaze lingered once more on the bunker before she followed him. Confusion and unease churned in her chest, though she remained silent, following his measured pace.
They reached the upper floor, the sun streaming down the long corridor, creating stark contrasts of light and shadow. Elias stopped in front of a heavy, dark wooden door. He jabbed the tip of his cane toward it.
"That door," Elias said, stern and commanding, "you must never go in there. Not for any reason. Understood?"
Leah stiffened slightly but nodded quickly and firmly.
"Yes, sir. I won't."
Elias's gaze swept from the door to another directly across the hall. "That is Izana's room. Yours is directly across," he explained, his voice softer now, tinged with a mixture of hope and pity.
He leaned in slightly, posing the question that seemed to carry the weight of the world. "Are you ready to meet him?"
Leah took a small, steadying breath. Her fingers curled lightly at her sides. Then she nodded, resolute.
"I am," she answered.
Elias raised a hand and knocked firmly on Izana's door. Silence answered him. He knocked again, harder this time, irritation lining the gesture.
"Izana! Open this damn door! I'm coming in!" he called.
The door creaked open slightly, allowing bright hallway light to spill into the black void beyond. Leah stepped back, instinctively shielding her eyes from the sudden contrast. Elias moved carefully into the room, his silhouette dark against the incoming light. Leah hung frozen in the hallway.
"It's… so dark. I can't see anything," she whispered.
Elias's voice hardened, raising slightly. "Izana? If you don't answer, I'm turning on the lights."
From somewhere deep in the darkness came a strained, faint voice.
"Leave me alone," Izana said.
"Stop this nonsense," Elias barked, waving vaguely into the darkness. "Come out and meet your wife."
No movement, no reply. Then the single word, icy and sharp:
"No," Izana said.
Elias's hand moved to the light switch. In a swift motion, the room erupted in blinding white light.
"You asked for it," Elias muttered.
Izana shrank against the bed, curling into himself. The brightness struck him like physical force, and he cried out, scrambling blindly. His hands fumbled across the bedside table, seeking the familiar texture of the white blindfold.
"The light… turn it off!" he gasped.
Fingers trembling, he tied the blindfold over his eyes, taking a ragged breath when it finally settled in place. His pale face glistened with sweat.
Elias remained at the door, stern and unwavering. Leah watched from the hall, concern etched across her features. Elias tapped the cane sharply against the floor once.
"Now, greet her, Izana," he ordered.
Izana hesitated, then sat on the edge of the bed. His head turned slowly toward the doorway, still blindfolded. After a long pause, he dropped his head back onto the pillow, turning away.
"Get the hell out," he said weakly.
Elias sighed, stepping back into the hallway. Leah's expression softened in sympathy as she observed the interaction. Elias flicked the light switch, plunging the room back into darkness.
He closed the door firmly and turned to Leah.
"I apologize for my grandson's behavior," Elias said, voice gentle now.
Leah shook her head slightly. "It's okay. I understand," she replied, glancing briefly at Izana's door before focusing back on Elias.
"Can I ask… why the blindfold?" she ventured.
Elias's face turned somber. "The curse makes him extremely light sensitive. Any light at all causes him great pain."
Leah nodded slowly, determination settling in her features. "I see. I'll try my best to make him warm up to me."
Elias offered a faint, sad smile. "That won't be easy. He's… difficult. And deeply afraid."
He gestured toward the door of her own room. "Go get settled in. Thank you, Leah."
Leah gave a small nod, turning toward her room. She opened the door, stepping inside as sunlight bathed her briefly before the door closed softly behind her.