Crimson Petals, Hidden Thorns

The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with a silence that seemed to swallow everything around them. The mysterious figure who had just entered was standing in the doorway, their presence like a dark storm on the horizon. The servants who had surrounded them halted, as if frozen by the authority in the figure's voice. Tianwu's heart pounded, every instinct telling him to run, to escape whatever nightmare had taken root in his life.
Yuren and Weiyang stood by his side, their expressions unreadable but tense, their hands hovering near their weapons. The tension was palpable, like a cord stretched too tightly, ready to snap at any moment.
The figure, cloaked in dark robes, stepped forward with deliberate slowness, each movement precise and controlled. Their face remained obscured by a veil, only their eyes visible—eyes that shimmered with an unsettling mix of familiarity and cold detachment. Tianwu's breath caught in his throat as the figure locked eyes with him. There was something about those eyes—something that gnawed at him, like a puzzle piece he could never quite place.
"You..." Tianwu began, his voice trembling. "Who are you?"
The figure's lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile, but it was not one of comfort. "I am someone you have forgotten, Tianming," they said softly, their voice like velvet wrapped around steel. "But the past has a way of finding its way back to you, whether you like it or not."
The words hit Tianwu like a blow to the chest. His mind scrambled, trying to make sense of what was happening. Forgotten? How could he have forgotten someone who stood so clearly before him, someone whose presence was both alien and achingly familiar? There was a strange tugging at the edges of his memory, a feeling that this moment, this encounter, was long in the making. But why couldn't he remember?
Yuren's sharp voice broke through his swirling thoughts. "Enough games. Who are you, and why are you interfering?"
The figure's gaze shifted to Yuren, their eyes narrowing slightly, as if measuring him. "I do not wish to fight you, Zhao Yuren," they said, their tone cold but not threatening. "But I must speak to Tianming. Alone."
Tianwu glanced at Yuren and Weiyang, his heart racing. He didn't understand what was happening, but the sense of dread that had been growing in him since the Mirror of Souls had first rippled was now almost unbearable. He could feel it—something was unraveling, and he was at the center of it. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with this figure, but a part of him knew there was no avoiding it. Something crucial was about to unfold.
"Yuren," Tianwu whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please."
Yuren's eyes darkened, but after a moment of hesitation, he nodded slightly. "Stay close," he said to Tianwu, his voice low. "We'll be right here."
Weiyang, though less inclined to trust the stranger, stepped back, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his sword. "Do not make any rash decisions," he warned, his gaze lingering on the mysterious figure.
The figure waited until they had moved back before turning their attention to Tianwu. "You remember nothing," they said, their voice laced with something almost sad. "But the truth will come to you. It is only a matter of time."
Tianwu swallowed hard, trying to steady his breath. "The truth? What truth? I don't understand. What do you want from me?"
The figure took a step closer, their presence imposing. "I am the one who watched over you, who protected you when you were no more than a whisper of a forgotten soul. I was once your anchor, your guide through the storm. But the storm has changed, Tianming. And now you must decide who you will be."
Tianwu's thoughts spun, the words rattling through him like a relentless storm. A guide? An anchor? His heart raced as fragments of forgotten memories began to surface—memories of distant places, of echoes that felt as if they belonged to someone else. The pieces of his past were scattered, floating just out of reach, and this stranger seemed to be the key to unlocking them.
"I don't remember you," Tianwu said, his voice breaking with the weight of the truth. "I don't remember anything."
The figure's smile faltered, and for a brief moment, there was something almost... human in their eyes. "You will, in time. The pieces of your soul are not lost. They are merely waiting for you to find them."
Tianwu wanted to say more, to ask more, but the words caught in his throat. Something about this encounter felt like a trap, like the first step in a long journey that he wasn't ready to take. The fear gnawed at him, the feeling that he was standing at the precipice of something irreversible.
The figure turned slightly, as though to leave, but then stopped, casting one last glance at Tianwu. "The path ahead is not one you can walk alone," they said, their voice soft, almost regretful. "Beware those who walk beside you, for they may not be who they seem."
Tianwu's breath caught in his throat. Those words—those cryptic, foreboding words—lingered in his mind like a warning that he couldn't ignore.
Before Tianwu could ask anything further, the figure stepped back into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared, leaving behind only the lingering tension in the room and the haunting promise of the unknown.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The air was thick with unspoken questions and the weight of uncertainty.
"What was that?" Tianwu finally asked, his voice shaky. He turned to Yuren and Weiyang, searching their faces for answers, but found none.
"I don't trust them," Weiyang said finally, his voice low and dangerous. "Whoever they are, they're playing a game with you, Tianming. And I don't like being a part of it."
Yuren, on the other hand, seemed deep in thought. "We don't have the luxury of trusting anyone right now," he said quietly. "We need to leave the estate. We need to be far from here before whatever that person hinted at catches up with us."
Tianwu nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. The words from the mysterious figure echoed in his thoughts: The past is not finished yet, and neither is your future.
It was a riddle he couldn't solve, a thread in his soul that he couldn't pull. But he knew—he knew with certainty—that this was just the beginning. Something much larger was coming. And whatever it was, it was tied to him, tied to his forgotten past, and to the future that he was still trying to understand.
---
As they made their way out of the room, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the walls, Tianwu felt the sudden weight of a cold presence pressing against his back. He turned quickly, but there was nothing there—nothing but the empty hallway, stretching endlessly ahead. Yet, the feeling remained. Someone was watching him.
And as the door slammed shut behind them, sealing them in the darkness, Tianwu knew—he was not the only one searching for the truth.