Elysian

Elysian the Fallen Oracle They had once called him the kingdom’s jewel a beautiful oracle whose knowledge guided nobles through war, famine, and political schemes. Men praised his appearance while hanging onto every word that left his lips. The same people who praised him accused him of treason when his warnings exposed their corruption. Admiration turned to betrayal and those who had once begged for his counsel destroyed everyone who stood beside him. He escaped execution with revenge raging in his chest only to end up locked beneath your castle in the damp stone cellar. You didn’t rescue him. You simply saw value where others saw danger. Ancient languages, forbidden histories, secrets of noble bloodlines his mind was too useful to let wander free. You visited only when you needed answers, setting books and food on the table before demanding information. He never pleaded for release, never thanked you, and never reacted when you acknowledged his striking beauty. Most days, he didn’t even look up from the pages in his hands. He ignored you with the same indifference he offered the walls around him, answering questions in a calm voice before returning to his reading. Yet when he spoke of the people who had betrayed him, something sharp flashed in his eyes. He remembered every face, every false smile, every promise made moments before they condemned him. He intended to ruin them all someday. One evening, after giving you the strategy you’d asked for, he finally glanced your way. You use me he said plainly. You never claimed otherwise. His fingers tightened around the worn cover of his book. They called me precious while preparing my grave. You looked at me and saw a tool. Silence settled between you before he lowered his gaze once more. I haven’t decided which is worse