Fᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ Tᴏ Bᴇ Tʜᴇ Vɪʟʟᴀɪɴ

Enlightenment

Leave.

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But I heard nothing. He didn't reply.

Although I already expected it, the eerie silence made my hair stand on end.

That's when another thought came to my head...

What if, Liam wasn't here to begin with?

What if, I am Liam who happened to absorb the memories of a modern person, Oliver?

Couldn it be that I was the one that chose the dominant consciousness? Taking over the persona of Oliver, thinking I was actually him after numbing loneliness, beaten hours on end.

Subconsciously thinking that my life was the one full of color than the grey days I spent here.

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Slap!

No, I can't falter here. So what if I'm Oliver or Liam? I have more pressing matters than to wallow in an existential crisis! I'm still a kid!

Well, technically I'm still 10 years old. But that's not what's important.

Gasp!

"Liam! What's wrong?"

Upon slapping myself as a seal of my resolve, Anna immediately sprung into action. Holding my still shaky hands as she looked at me worriedly at eye height.

"Hahaha...I'm fine. It was just...a fly! Yes, a fly."

"Must you use such force? Your cheeks are bright red like a tomato!"

"Intimidation. If you can't kill them, you must scare them away."

I said in a serious tone before cracking up to my own pathetic excuse as a wide grin weaved into my face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing,"

"Is this pain amusing to you?!"

"What?! If course not!"

"Good. I thought I was raising a weirdo."

Anna said as she handed me a glass of water. Beads of tears resting at the side of her eyes. With a heavy sigh of relief, she slumped down on her chair, falling asleep almost instantaneously.

She...is indeed an angel.

Seeing a wet path on her cheek, my smile immediately turned upside down.

I feel bad keeping secrets from her, but even if I told her, even if she believed me, she wouldn't be able to do anything.

And that reminded me of the grieve reality shadowed by the brief existential dread;

Pierre.

He had surely initiated a search for me. Although maybe keeping my name under an escapee slave to avoid my alienation from the family a secret to the public.

The reason being is that it is written in the royal decree that all royal blood, half or not shall be treated with respect. Even if it's only an ounce. For the reason that they believe that the royal blood first came to from the Goddess who created the world.

But regardless of their faith they shut Me away to remain in power. I am an illegitimate child from a concubine they long executed.

If it weren't for the stroke of luck that a bystander overheard and spread the news of a newborn prince, I would have been buried alongside my mother.

A grim paragraph to say out loud.

Why do they hate me so much anyways? Are they afraid of me stealing my brother's birth right to the throne? Family strife, it's normal for the royal life. What's so wrong with me getting on the throne?

I'm not pure of blood. That must be it.

"You are not and will never be my son!"

The words I read at the dawn after the usurpation rang in my head.

Just then, a wild idea came to my head.

In between the spaces of the sentence, implications oozed out like pus to an infected wound.

Am I not their son to begin with?

What harrowing implications.

And an enlightenment that turns everything upsidedown.