Days morphed into months and months into years. She shared all her secrets with him and he told her about his roots and what he had been through. Surilla was drawn to his darkened past and wanted to share all her light with him. Unaware that his heart was like an abysmal pit, the more she poured into it the more it engulfed.

Both of them got married because Surilla had bonded with him. Her heart chose him and she believed that her love will be victorious one day.

Armaros tried to love her too but she was too pure for his darkened heart. He had never been taught to love, all he had known was hate and contempt. Most times he ended up hurting her because he was too afraid to let anyone in.

It wouldn’t be untrue if one were to say an angel bonded with a devil in the case of Surilla and Armaros. Every time he hurt her even though he tried not, an excruciating pain would birth in his heart and pits of stomach.

Despite his behaviour and abuse, Surilla understood he had never known love and his behaviour was a byproduct of the abuse he had faced in the initial years. She stuck around and gave him all her love.

They had made their home in the same mansion Armaros’s family used to live in and where he had massacred them.

Hoping his heart would soften one day, especially after their son was born. The joy Surilla experienced carrying the little one in her arms for the first time was beyond anything she had known. He held her finger in his tiny hand and stared at her with the same grey eyes as her.

"You are my beautiful son and I will love you with everything I have," her heart overflowed with adoration and affection for the little one.

"Let’s see, what should I name you?" she thought for a while and decided to name him Xiran which meant:

’Joy and happiness.’

She believed he would fill their lives with his light and that her husband’s outlook towards her and the world might change.

"Isn’t our son the cutest and most handsome?" Surilla held him towards her husband who shot them a disdainful look and walked away.

He felt enraged seeing the child who looked nothing like him but his mother. It brought back all his insecurities especially when he saw Surilla loving her child with her heart and soul. It reminded him of how his mother couldn’t love him.

Armaros knew not only Xiran would have traits from his mother’s side, but he also had elven blood running through his veins. There was a chance that he would become like those haughty elves as his handsome features reminded him of them.

At times he would secretly watch his wife showering their son with kisses, singing him lullabies and just simply smiling down at him. His heart would want to go to them but then all his past traumas would resurface and malice would cloud the glimmer of love that his heart birthed.

He became more violent after that and Surilla feared for her son’s life. One day she decided to escape with her son and head back to her planet. But just before she could do that, Armaros discovered her plans.

"Where do you think you are going?" Armaros grabbed her by her milky wings and snatched Xiran out of her hands.

"Noooo, give him back. Don’t hurt him," Surilla screamed in agony. Xiran was almost one year old at that time. Seeing his mother in agony he began to wail with his tiny fists balled up.

"You tried to run away from me with my son? Do I disgust you that much?" he grabbed her silver hair and dragged her inside the mansion. Surilla screamed and begged for mercy but there was none in his heart. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"Let us go Armaros, I beg you," she wailed in agony. Tears streaked down her crimson cheeks.

His eyes had darkened, the rage coursed through his veins and he wanted to burn everything down to ashes. She was one person he thought would never leave him and yet she had decided to. He would make her pay for daring to leave him so he cut off her wings and set them on fire.

How he wished to burn her along with her wings but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Her agonising cries echoed in that calamitous mansion but there was no one to help her. She was trapped here forever.

Beaten, wounded and scarred for life Surilla gave up hope of ever escaping his clutches. The moments when he would sometimes smile at her ceased to exist after that incident. Contempt and indifference replaced any traces of love he held for her and their son.

Surilla focused all her energy and love on raising her son the right way. She filled the gaps left by Armaros in loving him and tried to ensure he became a better man. A man who would respect and shower love on his partner, a man who wouldn’t abuse or disrespect the person he would fall in love with.

Xiran was three when Xifin was born and Surilla observed that Armaros didn’t show the amount of animosity he did at Xiran’s birth. He would at times even hold Xifin who seemed more pleased to be held by his father than his mother.

Xifin was cold and distant just like his father, he didn’t care for Surilla’s love nor did he want to play with Xiran much. As they grew up Surilla noticed they were like opposite poles of a magnet.

While Xiran was outspoken and didn’t hesitate from speaking his thoughts, Xifin was quieter, observant, and shrewd. He sided with his father and believed this world belonged to vampires and they should rule supreme over all species.

As the abuse against her grew, Surilla began to secretly keep a diary for Xiran. She jotted down every detail she thought was necessary for him. She left details about herself, her powers and also particulars about her home planet and her family there.

By the age of five Xiran’s wings had emerged and she began to secretly teach him how to fly.

"My beautiful boy, these wings are our little secret. Never share it with anyone," she softly instructed him one day.

"Why?" he asked, his eyes shimmering with curiosity.

"Because people feel jealous of what they don’t have," she softly stroked his beautiful silver hair and he gently nodded at her.

Xiran grew up and Surilla transferred her bond power to him, to keep his heart safe and prayed that he would be luckier than her in terms of finding love.

The abuse didn’t limit itself to her and Armaros extended it to Xiran, deeming him unfit for the ways of this world. Her health took a major toll on the amount of hurt he caused their son. It reduced her to mere bones and skeletons.

How she wished her sons would be able to visit and meet her side of the family. Families were important to her, they forged stronger bonds and helped polish the personalities of children better. Surilla often prayed that Xiran’s wings would also inherit her power of travelling through space and time and visiting different planets so he could go to her home planet and understand his roots better. She knew he would be bestowed with boundless love by her family.

Years of indifference and abuse finally tired Surilla and she fell ill. She wanted to hand over the diary to Xiran but Armaros discovered it before she could do that and hid it away.

Seeing her in such a vulnerable state Armaros stopped the cycle of abuse but Surilla didn’t recover. Xiran was restless and dejected seeing his mother in such a state.

He occasionally fought with his father, blaming him for her condition. He had grown almost as tall as Armaros now and would stand eye to eye with him.

Xiran couldn’t see his mother in such a fragile state, his tears wouldn’t dry and he would run away and seek refuge in Rivan’s house at times.

Although Armaros was incapable of love and care and yet he felt his heart breaking all over again when she was on her deathbed. He held her hand one last time:

"Armaros, take care of our sons. You are all they have now, forgive them, especially Xiran for having a good heart," she whispered, her eyes holding last flickers of hope from the man who had wronged her and yet she couldn’t stop loving him. But he was too broken to be fixed.

"Sorry, for all the hurt I caused you. I never meant to do that but I couldn’t help it," he whispered back. A small smile spread on her beautiful face and she closed her eyes forever.

A lonely tear left his cold blue eyes and one could say emotions stirred in them that day, the day his wife died. For it was centuries ago when he was just a boy that he had cried for the last time. Because now he was merely a Phantom, as the world had labelled him.