He has been alone for many years. In a dark castle filled with the same people for centuries. Magic unbridled, dangerous and Powers that triumph worlds is he. An anomaly with no loop hole, but every anomaly has a loop hole. what is enough to trump the Cold Lord? Shifrah Louise Kavanagh. A doctor who has lived in solitude for most of her years. Just the hospital then back to her apartment. Until she is transferred to a Town she has only heard stories of. Something lurks in the dark. She knows it. But what?
Chapter 1 The Beginning
He sat on his throne. He's been here for years and decades even. He stands up and roams through his supposed throne room. A soft knock interrupted his thoughts, and the door creaked open to reveal his butler, Thompson standing in the doorway. "Your Highness," James began, his voice barely above a whisper, "the King wishes to see you." His expression was solemn, conveying the gravity of the situation. He understood what was going on. He's been anticipating.
He enters his father's chamber and looks out the window. He looks as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the castle in shadows, Crown Prince Alexander sat brooding in his Father's chamber. His father, King Fredrick, lay on his deathbed in the room, surrounded by loyal servants and advisors.
Alexander's relationship with his father had always been strained, filled with resentment and disappointment. He has hated his father. His mother died for his greed. He had women but no heir, Then he took in an hybrid. He wanted a powerful heir, To conquer all kingdoms. And had his way. Giving birth to an anomaly. The Barbarossa wanted to live up to his name. Ruthless and unrelentless was he.
The room was hushed, lit only by flickering candlelight. King Edward lay motionless on the ornate bed, his once vibrant presence now diminished by illness. Alexander approached hesitantly, his eyes fixed on his father's weakened form.
"Father," he murmured, his voice void of emotions. King Fredrick turned his gaze towards his son, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Alexander," he rasped, his voice barely audible. The prince swallowed hard, struggling to contain the flood of conflicting emotions within him. He was full of resentment and hate he wished to finish the work the heavens has started but he couldn't.
"I wanted... to... apologize," the king wheezed, each word a struggle. Alexander's eyes widened in surprise, his heart clenching at the unexpected admission. He had never anticipated such a confession from the proud monarch. "I have not... been the father... you deserved," King Edward continued, his voice growing weaker with each passing moment. "But... I hope... you can forgive me..."
He laughs in the Old King's face. He face became stoic. "I feel no emotion for you. The only reason I haven't killed you is because despite your greed you made me powerful..." He chuckles "...... Do you think I can forgive you. No sire. But I do wish you greet mother dearest for me. Oh wait, You are going to hell" He laughs maniacally as he departed the old man's room.
As Alexander left the room, his laughter echoed down the corridor, leaving behind a chilling silence in the wake of his callous words. The weight of his resentment and ambition hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of his father's chamber. Each step he took seemed to echo his disdain, a reminder of the fractured relationship between father and son, tainted by a legacy of power and betrayal.
As Alexander strode through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, his mind churned with a mixture of bitterness and determination. He had spent years harboring resentment towards his father, fueling his ambition to ascend the throne and fulfill his own desires for power and conquest. The king's apology had fallen on deaf ears, unable to penetrate the hardened shell of Alexander's heart.
With each passing moment, his thoughts turned towards the future he envisioned for himself and the kingdom he would soon inherit. He saw himself as a ruler untethered by the constraints of morality, willing to do whatever it took to cement his legacy and expand his influence across the land.
But beneath the facade of arrogance and ambition lay a deep-seated emptiness, a void left by years of neglect and betrayal. Despite his outward displays of confidence, Alexander could not escape the haunting specter of his past, the scars of which lingered just beneath the surface of his facade.
As he reached the end of the corridor and emerged into the moonlit courtyard, Alexander paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the sprawling expanse of his kingdom. In that moment, he felt a fleeting sense of satisfaction, a glimpse of the power and authority he so desperately craved.
But deep down, he knew that his thirst for power would never be quenched, that the shadows of his past would continue to haunt him long after he ascended the throne. And so, with a heavy heart and a mind filled with turmoil, Alexander forged ahead, determined to carve out his own destiny in a world fraught with betrayal and deception.