A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: The Deathless Fortress]

Standing around in the courtyard had become old fast—though, in fairness, wandering deeper into something called The Deathless Fortress was probably not the brightest idea any of them had ever had.

But here they were regardless: three uneasy souls at the ground floor of one of the many towers looming over the desolate fortress complex.

The chamber they found themselves in was enormous—broad enough that their voices felt swallowed by the space before ever reaching the ceiling. Curtain-like stone walls rose around them, carved with swirling patterns. Heavy doors—slabs of stone thick enough to withstand onslaught after onslaught—lined the perimeter. A massive spiral staircase twisted upward into shadow and downward into an even deeper gloom.

What made the place unsettling was not that it was empty. It wasn't. It was that it felt occupied, yet emotionless.

Red carpets muffled their steps. Blurry, abstract paintings—smears of color rather than images—hung between the doors. Guards stood at their posts, identically uniformed, identically still, each with blank willingness to ignore them so long as the trio stayed away from the restricted paths.

"Looks like they're ignoring us…" Ivan murmured. He stood a short distance from both staircases, hands tucked awkwardly into his cloak. "We still probably shouldn't get close."

"You think?" Alexander snorted—except the sound didn't have his usual bravado. His posture was stiff, shoulders slightly hunched. "This place feels like it's swallowing the air. If I breathe too hard, something's gonna crawl down my throat."

"Then perhaps you should leave before you wet yourself," Gretchen said without even glancing at him.

"I'm not that scared!" Alexander hissed—too loudly. He winced as the echo bounced back at him. No guard even twitched. "…Okay, that's worse. They're really just going to ignore that?"

Gretchen ignored him as she leaned closer to one of the swirling wall-patterns, her eyes tracing the curves with a sharp, analyzing stare. "It's a reinforcement network. Mana circulation for the inner walls. Though it appears to require constant feeding… likely why there are so many conduits." She muttered, clearly addressing herself more than her companions.

Ivan perked up. "So you know a lot about magic, Gretchen? You've got a lot of mana—you seem like a sorceress."

Gretchen paused, debating whether to answer—then shrugged. "I am merely an alchemist. I do not practice sorcery beyond what is necessary for my craft." Then, curtly: "And that is the extent of what I will share."

"Well aren't you just peachy," Alexander muttered. "Maybe try not being such a bi—"

Ivan shot him a warning stare.

"—bitter, rude lady," Alexander corrected grudgingly.

"I am not rude. You are simply fragile. Perhaps consider becoming more of a man." Gretchen replied dryly, as if stating a fact.

Alexander's eye twitched. "You little shi—"

"AHEM." Ivan cut in desperately. "Anyway! I… wonder how that meeting with the Mortifer is going. She seemed… normal, actually."

"And pretty," Alexander added automatically.

Ivan gave him a look, but didn't deny it. "…Yeah. Hard to believe someone like that is a Mortifer."

"So her beauty is all you took from the encounter, and not the fact her mana reserves were monstrous?" Gretchen asked, nose wrinkling in disdain. "Repulsive."

"O-oi! What's so wrong with noticing she's pretty? People do that!" Alexander protested.

Before Gretchen could retort, the main massive slab door began to rise with a grinding shudder. They snapped their attention toward it.

A guard stepped in first. Behind him marched two dozen men in dull gray uniforms, marked with heavy black lines. Each kept their gaze forward, walking in rigid formation. A second guard trailed the group, hand on his weapon.

"Workers?" Alexander asked, brow furrowing.

"Workers don't need escorts in their own workspace," Ivan murmured.

One of the stationed guards at the doors called out casually, "Huh? Time for tower maintenance already? Damn, must've lost track of time."

"You wouldn't have if you weren't daydreaming about Lady Ella again," the second guard snapped.

"Hey, you were doing the same!"

"But I kept track of time."

"Oh please—"

"Right, right," the lead guard interrupted flatly. "Enough about Lady Ella. Yes, she's beautiful, radiant, out of this world," he trailed off, "just open the damn door."

Hidden dry stares answered him, but the door slid open. The group marched through as the door slammed shut behind them.

"Lady Ella?" Gretchen repeated, tone actually curious.

"The guards sounded smitten," Alexander said, rubbing his chin. "Kinda weirdly normal given how creepy this place is."

"It is weirdly normal," Ivan chuckled faintly. "I almost forget we're in a nightmare fortress."

"I wanna know who she is now," Alexander admitted. "Anyone who gets this many daydreams must be someth—"

"She's the most radiant beauty to ever exist."

A fourth voice, smooth, came from behind them.

All three jerked violently around.

("What the hell? I didn't sense anything—nothing!") Alexander's instincts screamed. His body tensed, fight-ready.

A man stood there—a tall, lean figure in the same gray uniform as the workers. Except his posture was too at ease. His grin too confident. His bright orange hair too neatly styled. And those emerald eyes to relaxed.

"No need to be so jumpy," the stranger said warmly. "I'm only saying hi."

Gretchen's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"Well, traditionally, introductions follow introductions," he said with a flourish. "But I am a gentleman, so I'll go first. Robert Fitzooth. A pleasure lovely lady."

Ivan blinked. "Uh—Ivan. Nice to meet you… I think."

"Alexander." He gave a curt nod, eyes never leaving Robert.

Robert turned expectantly to Gretchen.

"…Gretchen," she said flatly.

"Lovely name," he said, clearly meaning it. "You're quite the colorful group. Visitors, I assume? Not here for sightseeing, I imagine."

"What's it to you?" Alexander grumbled. ("This guy… he's right in front of me but I can't smell anything—no scent, nothing. How?")

"Pure curiosity," Robert said casually.

Ivan stepped forward a fraction. "Then do you mind if I ask why you are dressed like that? Is that the workers uniform here?"

Robert laughed. "I suppose you could call it that. Though my classification is… prisoner."

"Prisoner?" Alexander tensed again.

Robert raised both hands disarmingly. "Relax. Not a murderer or war criminal. Just a thief who depending on your perspective—may have been plotting a small revolution."

"A small revolution?" Ivan echoed, incredulous.

"Tiny. Minuscule. Hardly worth mentioning." Robert grinned.

"So this fortress uses prisoners for labor," Gretchen muttered.

"You'd be correct, lovely lady." He winked. Gretchen responded with a stare cold enough to freeze the sun.

"But you…" Ivan gestured subtly to the guards who continued ignoring Robert. "How are you just walking around? Aren't they supposed to be monitoring you?"

Robert smiled knowingly. "Oh, you're curious about my freedom, hm?"

Ivan nodded slowly.

And Robert's grin widened just a bit more. Enough to be charming and unsettling.

"That is all thanks to my lovely Ella," Robert announced with a kind of pride that made him straighten his back. Ivan, Alexander, and Gretchen—exchanged looks, equally puzzled.

"The girl the guards mentioned?" Ivan asked, brows raised.

"She is no mere girl, my friend," Robert corrected immediately, lifting a finger as though presenting a universal truth. "She is the most radiant beauty to ever walk this realm. A light in this pit. A miracle for men like us." He exhaled like even the idea of her calmed his nerves. "Honestly, just saying her name makes the day feel less miserable."

Gretchen stared at him with a look that hovered somewhere between disbelief and pity. Yet, the guards nearby—grown men in uniform—nodded their heads almost reverently, some even pressing a hand to their chest as though in worship.

"She must really be incredible..." Alexander murmured, somewhat taken aback by how genuine Robert was being. "You're talking like she saved your soul."

"Oh, she is," Robert breathed, shoulders relaxing as though the very thought of her smoothed the edges of his life. "Before she took apprenticeship under Sorcerer Koschei, this place may as well have been hell. A cold, cruel factory of suffering." His voice softened. "But that changed the moment Ella stepped foot into this cursed fortress. Suddenly things became… humane. Prisoners with lighter sentences were treated like actual human beings. Guards started looking forward to work—because it meant they might glimpse our glorious Ella."

"Whoa... she must mean a lot to you all..." Ivan murmured, intrigued and somewhat expectant to meet this Ella. "Sounds like she changed the whole atmosphere."

"Of course she means a lot," Robert replied without hesitation. "And she is the reason I can walk as freely as I do." He puffed his chest slightly. "She no doubt took a liking to me, but honestly? I'd be perfectly content being nothing more than her personal slave for all eternity. I'd clean her delicate feet, follow her obediently, carry her books—whatever she desires."

"That's… a lot of devotion," Ivan mumbled under his breath. ("But she must truly be that amazing,") he added internally. ("Now I really wonder what—")

"There you are, dumbass."

The voice cut cleanly through the air—and through Ivan's thoughts. Sharp, feminine and oddly melodic despite the insult.

Robert spun around like a puppy hearing its owner. Ivan, Alexander, and Gretchen followed his gaze.

She stood there.

Petite, stunning and almost otherworldly.

Porcelain skin as pale as snow. Long, raven-black hair parted by immaculate bangs. A black dress layered with a puffed-sleeve blouse, high collar, and a row of neat buttons. A high-waisted skirt tied with a bow. Matching ribbons at her sleeves and hem. Black stockings and ballerina slippers completing her look.

But it was her crimson eyes—brilliant and alive in a way reality shouldn't allow—that froze both young men where they stood.

"Dearest Ella!" Robert exclaimed. The nearby guards practically melted, some whispering excitedly, others straightening like young boys hoping for attention. Robert himself seemed ready to pounce the delicate girl.

Ella gave Robert a blank, unimpressed stare. "Try and hug me and I'll send your fucking ass to orbit. Not joking this time."

The vulgarity clashed jarringly with her appearance—yet made her feel startlingly real.

Ivan and Alexander didn't even register the profanity.

("Whoa…") Ivan breathed inwardly, shoulders tightening. ("She's… she's beautiful. I get it now…")

Alexander had the exact same thought, eyes wide and helplessly drawn to her. ("No wonder everyone acts like lunatics around her…") he added mentally.

Gretchen didn't even bother shooting them her usual dry stare. They were both hopeless.

"Ella, can I please have just one small hug? Just one? I swear I've been working hard today," Robert whined—actually whined.

"Dumbass," Ella huffed, squinting at him like she was genuinely concerned for his brain function. "Say shit like that again and I'll turn you into a rat. Or a beetle. Haven't decided yet."

Robert immediately straightened, clearing his throat.

Ella's crimson gaze swept to Ivan, Alexander, and Gretchen. "Who are these guys? Visitors? Pretty stupid to visit this place on purpose." She tilted her head slightly—but her eyes lingered on Ivan longer than necessary.

He flushed, trying to pretend he wasn't flustered.

Gretchen stepped in before the boys could embarrass themselves further.

"Our… 'leader' is meeting the Mortifer here. We were simply dragged along," she said, her blue eyes meeting Ella's crimson. ("Those eyes... is there... no, I can't sense anything. Hm, come to think of it I don't sense any mana from her, is she not an apprentice to the sorcerer here? She must be good at keeping it hidden.")

"Ah, that Morgan chick," Ella hummed, resting a hand on her hip. "Right, right. Well, whatever. Not wise to wander around here. Blondie here looks like a Nil," She nodded toward Ivan. "The head sorcerer here is a real fucking creep. He'd probably cream his pants at the chance to dissect a Nil. Might even throw a party first."

"S-seriously?" Alexander blurted, horrified.

"Seriously," Ella replied, flicking one of her perfectly neat bangs back into place. "He's disgusting. Don't make eye contact with him. Actually, don't breathe near him. He might take it as an invitation." She then looked to Robert. "Come on, idiot. Need to take a look at that curse of yours while we still have some time. And stop smirking like that, I can see it."

"Anything for you, Ella!" Robert said, practically glowing.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, already walking away. "Let's try to cure your dumb ass before it spreads to your last working brain cell."

As she turned and walked ahead, Robert hurried behind her like an obedient dog.

Ivan and Alexander's eyes followed Ella with near reverence.

"…Ivan, I think I'm in love," Alexander whispered.

"What?" Ivan hissed, scandalized. "You're insane, you just met her."

("What an idiot…") Gretchen thought to herself, deeply regretting every life decision that had led her to this moment.