A withering flower at devil's mercy

It took three months for Octavius and his people to reach the mainland of Amanécer, the war-torn realm that had once been a land of splendor. Their voyage across the sea had been a relentless battle against starvation, disease, and despair. Many perished along the way—some succumbing to hunger, others choosing to end their suffering in the dark abyss of the ocean.

Among the survivors was Leila, who, despite the chaos surrounding her, had brought a new life into the world. Yet, this was no world for a newborn. The war showed no mercy, not even to the innocent.

Octavius had vowed to protect her. He had planned to take her and the child to his villa upon arrival, offering them refuge. But Amanécer was no longer the home he once knew.

What greeted them was devastation.

The air reeked of death. Bodies lay abandoned across the land, left to decay under the burning sky. Once-lush forests and golden fields had been reduced to smoldering embers, their ashes thick in the air, suffocating those who dared to breathe. Cities that had stood for centuries now crumbled under the weight of war.

Leila, who had remained composed throughout their perilous journey, finally broke. She trembled as she took in the horror before her—eyes wide, lips parted in silent dread.

There was no turning back.

The only path was forward, into the unknown.

Their journey inland was grueling. Supplies were scarce, and every step brought them closer to death. Hunger gnawed at their bones, exhaustion dulled their senses, and the constant threat of attack kept them on edge.

The roads were littered with demonic beasts, vile creatures that fed upon the corpses left behind. Leila, unprepared for such grotesque sights, retched several times, nearly collapsing in horror. Octavius feared for her and the child, especially as the infant's cries threatened to draw the creatures near.

She did everything she could to keep the baby silent, muffling its sobs as tears welled in her own eyes. She was alone in this struggle, with no one to guide her, no one to teach her the ways of motherhood in a world that had no time for the weak.

Octavius, who had once kept his distance, now found himself reaching out—offering quiet reassurances, promising her a safe haven. His personal biases, whatever they had once been, no longer mattered. Survival did.

As they passed through abandoned towns and villages, they encountered small groups of trapped Amanécerians, some of whom were lucky enough to be found and evacuated by search parties. But for most, survival was nothing more than a fleeting hope.

Then, at last, they reached the eastern mountain range, where soldiers awaited them.

A breath of relief escaped Octavius as a soldier recognized him and discreetly led them toward Olympus, the last safe zone. But that relief was short-lived.

A dark figure loomed in the sky.

It was a sight that should never have been possible.

Triglav had awakened.

The monstrous entity took flight, its presence sending tremors through the earth. The ground rumbled beneath their feet, unsettling the evacuees. Leila clutched her child tightly as the newborn began to cry, its wails slicing through the tense air.

Panic set in.

"Silence that brat!" someone hissed.

"We'll die because of that child!" another spat.

A soldier, unable to contain his frustration, barked, "Keep it quiet! You'll bring the beasts upon us!"

Leila trembled, helpless, ashamed. She had no experience in caring for a child—no one to teach her, no one to help her. And now, her failure was turning the people against her.

Octavius had heard enough.

His anger flared. Without hesitation, he seized a horse whip and struck the soldier across the face. The sharp crack of leather against flesh silenced the crowd.

"Have you forgotten who you're speaking to?" Octavius' voice was like thunder, his authority unquestionable.

The soldiers, bound by discipline, halted immediately. They knew him—not just as a warrior, but as one of Amanécer's appointed generals. But the man who had been struck was not so easily subdued.

Spitting blood onto the dirt, he cursed Leila and the child, his voice laced with venom.

Octavius acted without hesitation.

In one swift motion, he unsheathed his sword and beheaded the soldier on the spot.

A stunned silence fell over the evacuees. Not a single soul dared protest. They all knew—even if they banded together, none could stand against Octavius alone.

He turned back to the group, his expression dark.

"Keep moving. To Olympus."

No one disobeyed.

They pressed on, whispers of fear trailing behind them. They all knew the dangers of the land. But what loomed in the skies above? That was far worse.

They could not afford to stop.

Not now.

Not when death was hovering over them like a dangling sword.

Two weeks passed by and the scarcity of the food rations made journey alarmingly tough.

Mothers who had children prioritized to feed them while orphans despite all the effort could secure no more than what they could manage to secure for themselves.

Octavius took part ration to Leila only when no one was looking at knowing how they'd turn their hostility not only at him but at her and the innocent life.

He found her breastfeeding behind a dead tree that was burnt.

Feeling embarrassed to witness her bare skin he put the ration of food beside her and moved away, giving her space.

She had been taught little knowledge by a stranger woman who helped her deliver her baby girl on the ship. She had given her brief lessons based on her experience.

When Leila asked her about her children she only met with silence from her. It meant that the child or her offsprings were no longer in this world.

Since then she had been diligent in taking care of her own.

After putting her daughter to sleep she turned around to find food placed in a small cloth.

She smiled reassuringly. The care she recieved from Octavius unknowingly even when he maintened his distance from her was like a blessing.

"Are you feeling any better?" Octavius asked her as she swallowed the last bite of her meal.

It was night time when she finished.

"Tired" she sighed.

Octavius didn't say anything but sat beside her that made her feel awkward.

"Thank you." She finally said to break the awkward silence.

"You don't need to thank me." He replied.

"But I mean it-"

"The ones who should be apologizing and thanking should be them...or so I would like to say. But as you can see the situation is dire. Every moment of survival counts.

He glanced at the soldiers who were changing their shifts for the day's watch.

" We will soon enter Olympus." He informed her.

" Olympus?" She wondered where that place was.

" One of the sacred ancient cities that still survive to this day. And the place of empresses and saints." He told her of the place where most of the royal offsprings are born.

" We're you also born there?" Leila asked with a hint of curiosity edging her voice.

" No." He denied.

" I was born in the imperial palace. My fiance was born there. The crowned princess of Amanécer." He spoke without realizing how the expression on her face changed.

Leila felt her chest tighten.

" So...where is she now?" She asked with realization that she could never harbor any feelings for the man sitting beside her.

Octavius didn't reply.

" It's best if we don't delve much into unnecessities." He refused to speak any further and got up.

" You must rest. We're to depart at early dawn."

With that he left her with many questions about his past.