Figure From The Dark

Silence bathed the whole place, as a figure emerged from the dark.

His eyes burned with blue light, while his cloak concealed his figure as he walked towards the center of the theater.

When the cloud of dust that filled the atmosphere settled and revealed him, he was greeted by several gasps and some audible whispers.

Standing before them in the center of the theater was a man whose appearance sent shivers down many people's spines. He radiated such intensity and menace that made his presence feel like an assault to many.

The man's presence seemed to permeate the very air around him, like a cold wind sweeping away any warmth or life. There was something unsettling about this man. They were enthralled, and hypnotized by the dark aura emanating from the man standing before them.

When Rachael opened her eyes, particles of dust in the air assaulted her nostrils, making her cough slightly. She sat up slowly and stretched her stiff limbs, trying to rid herself of the tingling sensation she felt after laying so still after the chaos that erupted in the theater.

Her fingers rubbed the back of her neck, and she turned and found herself staring at a pair of bright blue eyes. As soon as she noticed those blue eyes, she realized who this person was and gasped.

He was the same Merman who she had met in the cave. The man who had saved her when she first entered his prison. The same man who fed her with berries and made her desolate days a one of remembrance.

His hair was long and black like the night sky. His features were delicate but sharp at the same time. His eyes... His eyes gave that look that made her heart beat faster, like a rabbit caught by a fox.

But Rachael was utterly confused when her eyes crawled back to the figure that lay in the white seashell. The man standing before her and the figure in the seashell wore the same appearance. No difference. It was as if they were the reincarnated version of each other. How was that possible?

Noticing her confusion, the merman took a few steps toward her and crouched beside her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth, like a calm sea.

His heart sank even further as he caught a glimpse of terror on the girl's face. Reaching out with his hand, he grasped the rope that bound her and yanked it away, freeing the girl. Rachael was shaking and tears were falling down her cheeks, but she held no animosity towards the merman, only gratitude.

As the sun's rays filtered through the water, the merman managed to peer into the girl's eyes, pushing her hair out of her face with a gentle touch. He saw a reflection of his sadness in her eyes as she looked back at him.

"I'm so sorry," his voice trembled softly, "It was all my fault, Reginà Màe."

Rachael said nothing. Instead, she shook her head gently and reached for his wrist with shaking hands. With trembling fingers, she traced the veins on his arm. Her fingertips felt feathery as they touched the smooth skin of his wrists.

"It's not your fault, Creature," she whispered, her green eyes filled with compassion as she gazed at him," I'm just a victim of circumstances."

"Call me Icarus," he whispered, his gaze never leaving hers as he cupped her cheek with his right hand, "My name is Icarus."

"Icarus..."

The sound of her words stirred something in the depths of his soul, but what exactly? He couldn't quite tell.

"I know you're confused. But I'm not the person in that seashell," Icarus said softly.

"The person whose body is inside there was used to impersonate me."

"Then who's that?" she asked, still holding onto his wrist. She knew there was more to the story than just what she had seen. And the way Icarus spoke to her, with such respect and gentleness; she could tell that he cared deeply for her.

Rachael didn't understand what she meant by 'that person', and it still scared her. The duo was still unaware that they had sparked millions of questions and rumors in the eyes of the entire Merfolks audience.

Two mermen guards emerged and pulled Rachael out of Icarus' arms. They held her firmly despite her struggles and shackled her with chains again. Fear, rage, and hatred boiled in the pit of her stomach as she glared at Icarus with fire in her eyes.

"My prince, we can't let an Íkrótosi get closer to you," one of the mermen guards said.

The sight decimated every ounce of tranquility in his heart, and his eyes grew dark and menacing once again.

A loud crash echoed throughout the theater as someone fell against the floor. One of the guards was seen on the floor with one of his hands separated from the rest of his body. He screamed in agony, clutching his stump and crying out in pain as blood poured from his mangled limb. The sound startled Rachael and the audience, causing them to gasp loudly and stare wide-eyed at the scene.

The other guard fell to the floor and trembled, with each step Icarus took toward him. Icarus stood before him and lifted him off the ground, throwing him into the crowd that gathered around them. His screams rang clear through the silent building as everyone scrambled out of the way. Once Icarus threw the guard away, he turned to Rachael and stared at her with a dark glare.

Fear settled in the pit of her stomach. She was surprised to see this side of him. But as seconds turned into minutes, his once dark eyes turned into the brightest blue.

"Are you ok?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. Rachael nodded her head. She could hardly speak, since she was petrified. A wave of dizziness washed over her as she tried to process what had just happened. She thought about how he had saved her multiple times already. And now he has done it again.

What would have happened if he hadn't? What would have happened to her if he hadn't protected her?

"Let us leave," he whispered, glancing towards the exit.

Before Rachael could reply, she felt a swooping sensation as Icarus lifted her in a bridal style. She felt his hands wrap securely around her middle, pressing her tightly against his chest. The movement caused her to gasp. She glanced down at their joined hands. Hers were small, pale, and almost fragile compared to his broad, muscular frame. He held her with ease; as if she weighed no more than a feather.

She felt his warm breath against the top of her head as she placed her head against his chest. Icarus strode forward with confidence, as they left the arena.