Cursed Odyssey

"No..."

Silence stretched between them, thick as prison fog. The kerosene lamp cast wavering shadows across the walls, but Zephyr's expression remained unchanged. Empty. Void.

No reaction.

For just an instant, Alton's sharp eyes widened and sweat traced down his forehead. Then his gaze narrowed, more scrutinizing than before. He searched every micro-expression, every twitch or hesitation. All he found was an open book of emptiness—the slave mark inert and unlit.

No doubt. He's telling the truth.

Alton leaned back, his chair creaking in the heavy silence. He tapped his pen against the desk in a quickening rhythm, as if summoning his thoughts. "Tell me what happened from your perspective. Everything. Don't leave out any detail, no matter how insignificant."

"Yes, Captain." Zephyr took a deep breath. "Skylar and I were mining when Norman came threatening to hurt us unless we handed over our crystals. To keep Skylar safe, I sent her away and agreed to his demands. But Norman still attacked me after she left. When we fought... I don't understand how, but I managed to beat and restrain him. Maybe luck, or perhaps he was already weakened. I really don't know."

Zephyr paused, then slowly continued.

"After the fight, we talked, Captain. I was new to this prison, confused and looking for answers. I decided to take advantage of what happened and asked him questions. I couldn't have predicted what came next. Norman and I shared stories, laughed together. In that brief time, I felt a strange bond with him. When we parted, I thought we'd formed something special. He was one of my first friends here."

"You talked with him as if he were an old comrade after beating him up?" Alton asked.

"I suppose, Captain. It might sound odd, but that's the truth. I had no intention of playing nice—I was only interested in protecting myself. But as we talked, I realized he wasn't evil, just desperate, like all of us here."

"And the injuries you inflicted during the fight? How did you subdue him?"

"Nothing serious, I think. A knee to the stomach, but he recovered quickly. I restrained him using his belt, tying his foot to a rock."

"What about when you last saw him? Didn't it concern you when he didn't follow?"

Zephyr's gaze drifted, lost in memory. "I assumed he needed time to gather himself. My vision was injured and blurred from the fight, so my last glimpse of him was unclear. I went to see if I could clear it somewhere else, then a guard suddenly approached me."

"And the sound of falling rocks? Didn't you hear anything?"

"Rocks falling? No, Captain, I heard nothing. I guess I was too far away by then."

"I see." Alton sat back, his expression unreadable. "But is that truly all you know about this case? What are you hiding?"

"I have nothing to hide! Why would I?"

Alton took a moment to internalize the answer when something caught his eye. Zephyr's hands had started to shake—small but noticeable tremors. His breathing shifted slightly, just enough for Alton to notice what was coming.

"How could this have happened, Captain? Norman was really my friend." Zephyr's solid posture began to crack, his voice breaking. "The thought of people thinking I'd be responsible for his death... it's unbearable. He opened up to me, and now he's dead! Why would I ever kill him? I—"

Tears streamed down his face as the weight of the situation hit him.

Alton cut him off, his tone firm but not unkind. "I believe you, Zephyr. The detector hasn't flagged a single lie. As any fair investigator would, I must trust the evidence before me." He tightened his grip on his pen.

Zephyr wiped his tears, taking several seconds to compose himself with deep breaths. When he looked up, determination burned in his hurting eyes. "Captain, I swear I'll do everything in my power to help. We must uncover the truth behind this tragedy."

"Your cooperation is appreciated, Zephyr. We might need all the help we can get to untangle this mystery." Alton stood, his uniform creasing as he adjusted his spectacles. "A few more questions and you're free to go."

---

Prison Guard Urslan (The Arcanist of Flames)

Zephyr. Zephyr. Zephyr. Zephyr.

No matter what I did, he was all I could think about. How could I not after he humiliated me like that? Especially in front of the Warden!

That boy wasn't fucking normal. Arrogant ass stood there prepared to die.

Was I really gonna call him special and brave for that? Hell no, he was retarded! But really, that boy was definitely not normal. Those eyes, his movements—I knew a beast when I saw one! My instincts never lied!

To think he'd make even me shudder? He was gonna dodge my last attack. He might have actually caught me off guard and hurt me.

A fucking dreg? Hurt me? AGGHHHHH!  shook my head aggressively, teeth gritted so hard they crackled.

These thoughts were insane, but they never left my head!

How could no one else see it? Even without any Arcane energy, he still managed to do that! I've told so many people, but they just laughed and called me schizo!

As I walked through the prison halls, my massive frame shook the ground. I needed answers and had a destination in mind.

Alton must know something more about this kid. I need to know—is he really as ordinary as they say? I refuse to believe that.

I saw the red, rank 1 worm-like Intrusion arcane spirit glowing on the door handle, meaning he was busy. Who cares! My peace of mind comes first! I barged in.

"HEY! Alton buddy ol' pal! Mind if I pick your brain on—"

---

The door slammed open with such force it nearly came off its hinges, shattering the tense atmosphere in Alton's office. Captain Alton Grey shot a sharp glance toward the door, his pen freezing mid-tap.

"HEY! Alton buddy ol' pal! Mind if I pick your brain on—"

"Urslan!" Alton groaned in surprise and irritation. "Ever heard of knocking, you big oaf?"

Guard Urslan, the towering Arcanist of Flames, filled the doorway with his massive frame. His expression shifted completely—face still hidden under his helmet, now flushed, fists burning as he slowly turned toward the seat with deadpan eyes.

"What... is... this... brat... doing... here?"

Alton sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before removing his spectacles. "Urslan, as you can clearly see, you're interrupting an important interrogation. Now, if you'd see yourself to the door, I'd be happy to discuss whatever you wanted after I'm done."

Urslan's gaze narrowed dangerously as he glared at Zephyr. Slowly, Zephyr turned his head, lifting his gaze to meet Urslan's. There was a subtle shift in his expression, the faintest curl at the edge of his lips.

Why so agitated? Zephyr seemed to mock.

Perhaps a smirk, perhaps just a trick of the dim light, but to Urslan, it was a taunting challenge that stirred embers in his heart into roaring flame.

"Urslan," Alton split the tension, "I won't repeat myself. This is my investigation, and you will respect that. Now leave. We can talk later. Unless you have something pertaining to my current investigation?"

"Damn right I do! Whatever you're suspecting him of, he's guilty as hell! Bastard was just smiling at me!"

"Smiling?" Alton paused with a sigh. "I guarantee he was doing no such thing. Look at him. If you have any investigative knowledge, you'd know he's scared out of his wits right now, yet trying to maintain a facade of bravery. To put it in words your simple brain would understand: he's scared shitless and pretending to act tough. Furthermore, even if he was smiling, how could that be conclusive evidence in a suspected murder case?"

Urslan's fists clenched, frustration evident. "Don't mock me! It's not just that! It's everything about him. His eyes, his posture, the way he moves. He's hiding something, I know it!"

"Enough, Urslan," Alton firmly interjected. "Your gut feeling isn't evidence. We've gone through proper procedures. The lie detector—"

"Fuck the lie detector!" Urslan interrupted. "What if it's wrong? I've been at this long enough to know when someone's off. And this kid—my gut's never wrong—he's off! I trust myself more than that dumb toy! Have you lost your mind, Alton? You don't feel shame relying on that stupid thing? You've outlived that artifact by decades! Use your fucking head and instincts, and tell me he's innocent!"

Alton's expression hardened. "I respect your instincts, as I respect mine, Urslan, but times have changed. My investigation must be grounded in facts, not feelings. You're letting pride and ignorance cloud your judgment. What kind of justice is pure instinct? There's a reason we use lie-detection artifacts! Sanctum would be doomed if people like you were at the helm!"

The words carried weight, and Urslan bristled but held his tongue.

Finally, in this heavy silence, Zephyr chose to speak, his voice barely audible but sharp as a hot knife. "Sir Urslan, if you have any concrete evidence against me, I'll gladly face it. But suspicion alone isn't enough to prove anything! Like I'd really kill one of my only friends!"

Urslan's fists clenched involuntarily, knuckles whitening. His breath quickened, a storm brewing in his chest. The thought that this insignificant brat was mocking him, a 5th Act Arcanist of Flames, was unbearable.

What the hell am I even thinking? Suddenly, Urslan's gaze softened, realization dawning. What am I so flustered about? I'm the one with authority, not him! Shame and frustration mingled within him—he'd been played far too long. His clenched fists relaxed, and with a heavy sigh, he said in a calmer tone:

"Fine. Whatever! This isn't my jurisdiction. I came here for something else, but I guess I'll bother you about it another time. But I'm gonna remember this. I'll just be more professional next time."

"Good grief. Just make sure you don't meddle with Zephyr or his cellmates. If my memory serves, the warden prohibited you from even getting close to them! So, if you'd be so kind as to leave, I'll make sure to keep this interaction secret from her."

Urslan's stance eased. "I appreciate it. Just make sure to keep an eye on this Zephyr for me. Kid's not normal. I'd gladly die on that hill, and I'll never forgive you if you fuck this up." He muttered in a solemn voice, glaring daggers at Zephyr, before turning and exiting with slow, heavy, deliberate steps.

The door slammed shut.

"Apologies for that, Zephyr. Urslan is... you see... special." Alton groaned, turning back to Zephyr. "You're now all but exonerated and have nothing to worry about. You're free to go, Zephyr. But you are to stay in solitary confinement while I conduct further investigations, as I've yet to see the scene of the crime. Once again, this is just protocol. I'll dispatch someone to fetch you if needed."

Zephyr nodded, relief and uncertainty in his eyes. "Thank you, Captain. I just want the truth to come out."

"Worry not. With me, the truth always prevails."

Alton picked up an old telephone. Its brass body was adorned with intricate engravings of mysterious symbols and a crystalline dial that glowed faintly with unearthly light. He dialed using the crystalline knobs, each turn emitting a soft, harmonious chime. The device hummed with subtle energy as he called for Lieutenant Robert, the guard from earlier, to escort Zephyr out.

As Zephyr walked out of Alton's office, the captain sat back down, his gaze lingering on the closed door. He picked up his favorite blue embroidered pen, tapping it lightly against his desk, lost in thought. Something had bothered him since the beginning of the interrogation. Then, a memory of Urslan's words.

He tried to disregard it as he usually did with useless information—it was a waste of brain space in his eyes. But this thought endured, lingering like an itch he couldn't scratch.

"I better get going to the mines about now, shouldn't I?" He spoke with a sigh.

"Surely but a fluke."

---

Outside, Zephyr was escorted through the dimly lit corridors of the prison. He looked through the bars to his left, past the center chasm that led down to the mines, and up at the hole that revealed the dark sky shimmering with small, white, beating stars.

His mind raced, thoughts swirling within that dark, empty tempest.

His lips curled at the edges.

In this chaos, I can finally see the light.

Though only a thread.