-PEACE NO MORE-
RADOSLAV MARKOV'S POV
2040
Honey-sweetened waves of bells sollify* against my eardrums, contradicting the barbaric chants in the symphony of chaos, where order dares not tread.
Creaking along, the wooden frame of the window sways, driven by the force of the wind, sending snowflakes blading past by my cheekbones.
Turning my back against it all, in the comfort of the wooden chamber, flames dance serenely in the hearth's glow. I level down, facing the little version of myself and polish out his fur-swathed arms, caressed by the wind's breath.
His lips pressed in thought, with eyes fixed outside the very window, where everything he's ever dreamt for awaits, gravitating toward his sole grasp.
"Look at me, Boris." I prod his chin, and his indigo and sapphire eyes mirror through mine.
A luxurious curse, trapping you for life. Inviting danger from its sole sight.
"Can I skip wearing them today? They hurt my eyes." My five-year-old scrunches at the sight of the contacts. I sigh, burdened by the weight of wearing the contacts myself, yet rightfully deserving of every jolt.
"Not when your survival depends on it." It's been a month since the contacts have been in his routine. It will take some getting used to, but the pain will stay regardless.
Until now, Boris was homeschooled both for his safety and, because he was too young to have contacts in the first place.
"The more you toss around the longer it'd take." I warn and he stills. I place the ordinary brown lens above his left eye, covering his sapphire.
Only a pure heir, like my son would already own the sapphire color at birth. But for non-blood related heirs like my grandmother, Lion, a dreadful laser surgery must be performed to claim your title—the Don.
"One more." Boris's agonized scream pierces the air as soon as the lens meets his indigo eye, and my frantic hand muffles the rest, shielding his body in my embrace.
My heart clenches in anguish, already pouring apologies into the void. To sow such turmoil upon my own flesh and blood is a searing brand upon my soul, I'd never grow accustomed to bearing.
The indigo color falls upon the dominant eye in the name of the legacy itself. Exposing the leaders with their heirs, yet setting the ultimate control and power showering you at the expense of enemies at every doorstep for breakfast.
There's no time to feel sorry for yourself or shed a tear. You deal with it unless you've had your fair share of emotional damage and want to gravel the soils earlier.
It's the only escape we have known...
"I hate my eyes."
My heart sank, but I didn't have the luxury to allow myself feel the guilt.
"Yet they're a part of you. You can't hate yourself for who you are. You can only learn to grow along with the love you'd spread into those imperfections and accept them for what they are."
"How did you..." Boris takes a peek of my eyes before continuing, "Start to accept them?"
"I trained my mind to."
My son's eyes gawked enormously. I was surprised his lenses stayed intact.
"You can do that?" I chuckled at his amazement.
YOU ARE READING
Changes
Mistério / SuspenseIn a world where loyalty is a currency, betrayal as frequent as a blink of an eye. Weapon in trust lays, laced amongst the thorns of the rose, with your safety that could never be promised in its must. Then who could you rely on? Could you even trus...
