Cursed Odyssey

The stars had vanished since his last release, taking the hall's lights with them. Joseph followed his guard through the gloom, guided only by a single lantern that carved weak shapes from the darkness.

Every other cell sat empty and black, radiating the familiar miasma of despair and filth. Only his cell glowed—a dim beacon cutting through the night.

Like a lighthouse for lost ships. The comparison felt hollow in this place.

The guard unlocked the door with a worn key, nodded his silent farewell, and left Joseph to inspect the entrance from a distance.

Are they not asleep?

Peering into the dim interior, unease rippled through him. He saw absolutely nothing.

Hmm. His sixth sense prickled.

Two days since his transmigration, yet even he could tell something was off about the cell—an anomaly that hadn't been there before.

Joseph inhaled deeply and nudged the door open. He stepped inside, eyes adjusting as he carefully scanned the space. The moment he prepared to take another step—

*CLANG.*

The door slammed shut behind him, sealing his fate.

"ZEPHYYYRRR!!!"

A scream from his left. An entity lunged toward him. No time to think—reflexes took over. He side-stepped immediately.

Sharp hands grazed his skin as the shadow barely missed. So fast it nearly caught him, yet he had no luxury for relief—

"OW OW OW!! What was that for, Zephyr!?"

He finally recognized the voice as his vision adjusted to the slim light. The figure who had pounced at him now sprawled on the ground, pouting.

"Skylar?"

The same redhead girl from the mines.

"That really hurt!! What did you do that for!?" Tears welled in her eyes. With a sigh, he knelt down and reached out his hand.

"Just don't sneak up on me like that again."

She hesitated before reaching out. Joseph moved his hand slightly at the last moment—her hand met air before redirecting toward him.

Her grip was surprisingly firm despite the evident pain. But as he gently pulled her up, her expression morphed from pouting to something more... mischievous.

Using astounding force, she yanked him to the ground instead, trapping him in her embrace.

"Hehehe! I always get what I want, you see!"

"Hey hey! Calm down." Joseph's drowsy eyes went wide as he found himself suffocating in the arms of this once quiet, reserved girl.

How is she so strong!?

He struggled, using whatever subtle Ki methods he had at his disposal, before finally breaking free.

"Why the ambush!?" he panted, whispering harshly.

"Huh?" She whimpered. "Am I not allowed to give my savior a hug? I'm so happy you're okay! Are you hurt anywhere? Oh Twenty-Two! Your left hand!" Her gaze dropped to his wooden hand wrapped in cloth. "Let me take a look at it!"

She reached for it. Joseph swiped his hands away.

"I'd really rather you not. The injury is very minor, and I didn't feel a thing... It's just wood." He whispered.

"Really!?"

"Yes, my slave mark doesn't allow me to lie."

"Okay! Then—"

"BOTH OF YOU! QUIET DOWN!!"

A scream so hushed yet so loud rang in their ears—weak yet utterly commanding.

Skylar went stiff as a board, looking back at the source. Arthur's annoyed face was exaggerated by the flickering torch from where he sat.

"S—sorry... I guess I got a little too carried away..." Her voice dropped several decibels as she scratched her head and took a seat around the torch where the other four sat. All except Samsara, who remained solitary in her corner as usual.

"My deepest apology... I did try my best to keep my voice down." Joseph walked toward the group and bowed, catching a glimpse of Rayah in the process.

What was it he saw? Anger, frustration? Perhaps apprehension? Her skin was white as moonlight, though the dim light made it hard to perceive clearly.

"Hey hey! Come on now Arthur!" Gwyn laughed heartily with a beaming smile, smacking Arthur's back several times. "Get that stick out your ass bro! They weren't that loud!"

"Yes, they were... We don't want another incident happening."

"Don't worry! Won't happen, brother!" Gwyn's lips twitched wide in amusement.

"Fine, then next time that giant comes, we're throwing you out to face him... Alone." Arthur responded.

"That guy? Arcane arts or not! I got him down easy! He'd be my victim!" Gwyn puffed his chest with a chuckle.

"Why do I feel like I'm the only adult here..." Flynn groaned from his side.

"That's because you are like four years older than us, you big oaf!" Gwyn declared heartily, while Arthur immediately retorted, "Don't lump me in with this idiot." He shook his head.

"Oh... That's right!" Skylar beamed brightly. "Tomorrow, you'll be released, Flynn! Happy early sixteenth birthday!"

Joseph managed to sneak a spot around the glowing torch where they all sat in a circle—between Skylar and Arthur, with Rayah sitting directly across. They talked so casually, like they'd known each other for years. He sensed no real animosity despite words that seemed harsh on the surface. Their personalities were different, yet somehow perfectly mixed together.

He had no idea what brought about this sudden conversation. They certainly hadn't done this the night before. Nor could he identify the source of that eerie feeling still festering at the back of his mind. The only people left out of the conversation were himself, Rayah, and Samsara.

Yet Joseph was far from uninvolved, listening and observing intently.

"Yeah! That's right! We're gonna miss you Flynn! I can't believe you're already an adult! I can already see the receding hairline and grey hairs from now." Gwyn bantered.

"Shut up child! You're just envious I'll be released before you." Flynn retorted.

"Please! Like I'd ever be envious of that. Me personally, I'd be embarrassed I had to wait until the timer ran out to be released! I'm breaking myself out way before I'm a geezer like you!"

"Of course you are..." The sarcasm was palpable in Flynn's voice.

"Do you mind not saying that so loud?" Arthur added.

"HEYYyyyyy listen up guards!! I'm gonna start a riot! I'm gonna slip out! You're too weak to stop me bitches!! Hahahahaha!!" Gwyn declared, screaming in a hush.

"I swear... One of these days I'm gonna kill you..." Arthur massaged his temples.

Finally, Rayah opened her mouth for the first time and spoke:

"You're all so pathetic... Especially you Arthur... So content living here like worms... So much for men of 'noble' blood..."

"What are you trying to say?" Arthur's tone became more solemn, before Gwyn immediately interjected in his usual manner. "Agreeeeed! This whole place is so... depressing... So... Are you joining me in the prison escape?"

"You're no better... I'm not delusional enough to think escape is an option." She spoke to Gwyn's dismay, who let out an audible pout.

"Every second I spend in this cesspool the closer I feel to death... I am the youngest daughter of the Vendymion household... Not some... slave." She continued, clutching the tattered rags on her chest with shaky hands. "The more I have to listen to any more of this pathetic rambling, the harder I have to hold back the urge to rip you all to shreds... Particularly you... You one armed dreg." She stared shaky daggers toward Joseph, who immediately looked away to avoid her gaze.

"Wow wow! Calm down! None of us are happy with what's happening! But it's life. All one can do is endure with what they have, or fight for a solution! That's about it." Flynn interjected.

"Says the failed swordsman!! The only reason you've been content staying here for so long is because you're too disgraced to ever show your face in front of your family again! You're all so content to stay here because you know you will never be anything more! All you lesser nobles make me sick... Mere commoners, deluded into thinking they're anything more than filthy dogs suckling on the crumbs left behind by us of true noble blood... To fool yourself that any semblance of talent or hard work can make up the difference in bloodline is blasphemous..."

"Hey! Come on Rayah!" Gwyn chuckled lightly. "Now's not the—"

"Silence." Rayah's cold gaze swept across the group, her disdain palpable as she continued, her voice a venomous hiss. "You, Gwyn... You parade around with this sickening false bravado, but you're nothing but a fool, a jester in the court of life, unworthy of even the lowly title you cling to... You speak of escaping, but we all know the truth! You're trapped, not by these walls, but by your own mediocrity."

She turned her scornful eyes to Arthur. "Arthur Valentine... You remember, don't you, my dear? Oh how miserable you and your family must be that our marriage was broken off... The Valentines, once deemed worthy to stand beside the Vendymion lineage, now a mere shadow of former glory. I thank the Arcana gods every day... Your family's decline in wealth and status was truly a blessing in disguise. I shudder at the thought of once being betrothed to such... filth..."

Her lips curled into a bitter smirk as she turned to Skylar. "And oh, Skylar... think I forgot about you... you slum rat? Your very presence sickens me. To think you now sit among even these lessers, let alone myself, pretending to be more than the gutter-born urchin you are. You can dress a rat in silks, but it remains a rat! You seem so happy in a place like this... I guess it makes sense for low-born scum like you... But unlike you, I do not belong here..."

Silence fell as Rayah's words hung heavy in the air—a tangible cloud of tension enveloping the cell. The harsh reality of their situation was laid bare, unfiltered and unapologetic. To Joseph, their faces of begrudging silence signified truth within her words. There was a battle unseen, yet he saw through it all.

"So what's your point?" Skylar's voice, muttered yet sharp, cut through the tension like a knife. Her eyes, though soft, held a defiance that contrasted sharply with Rayah's malice. "What is so wrong about trying to make the best of the life you were given? What sin is there in high aspirations?"

The cell fell into deafening silence, broken only by the torch's flicker.

"What's my point?" Rayah repeated, condescension dripping from each syllable. "My point, dear urchin, is that you should recognize true greatness once you see it! This prison seems to have deluded you into thinking that we're equals! Hahaha, no! You think you're better! You should have realized that the only form of escape is through me, yet your pride made you too blind to see it! All wallow in this pitiful existence, clinging to fantasies of grandeur, while I—"

"While you what, Rayah?" Arthur interjected, his voice steady yet tinged with an edge. "Sit here, just like us, trapped in the same cell, under the same sky, breathing the same air, shitting in the same damn bucket? You talk of bloodlines and status, yet here we are, equals in our chains. You're no more powerful than the rest of us... With these anklets, we're all no better than dregs. So how is it that you're our key to escape?"

"How else?!" Her smirk turned to sudden laughter. "The Vendymion household is no doubt already out there searching for me! It will not be long before this entire prison is turned to rubble! Oh dear Arthur, I implore you to please repeat those exact words when you're soon face to face with my father! Same with you, rat! As well as the rest of you! I'm sure he'd be happy to hear all about the disrespect you've uttered!"

"Disrespect!?" Skylar's voice rose ever so slightly. "What made you so mad all of a sudden? We didn't say anything about you... We didn't disrespect you at all..."

"That is all the disrespect that is needed! The very fact you dare speak back to me is the height of disrespect! I'll—"

"Calm down Rayah..." Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "If I ever met your father again, I'd be glad to tell him... But to tell you the truth, I doubt they will ever come..."

"AND WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT!? HOW DARE YOU—"

"Quiet... before I come there to discipline you myself."

"Y—you..." her voice lowered.

"Arcane arts or not... We both know you've never beaten me in a fight... and you never will."

"Hmph..." She scoffed. "You know nothing of my recent training... If I had my Arcane Spirits, you'd be nothing... I'll make you soon regret this..." She paused before redirecting her attention from the now unconcerned Arthur toward someone else.

"As for you! Zephyr you useless slave!" As she spoke his name, Joseph froze, looking into her icy gaze as she stood up and walked away from the group. "All you do is simply sit there as your mistress endures all of this? You're a handicapped dreg, not mute! Do you also now think you're better than me!?"

"No mistress... I wouldn't dare ever think that..." Joseph took a knee, yet it only seemed to worsen Rayah's frustration.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!? Have I raised such an ill-mannered dog!? You dare mock me further!?"

"Mistress... I would truly—"

"Come here..."

"Mistress—"

"I COMMAND YOU TO COME HERE!"

The moment Rayah's command pierced the air, a visceral, otherworldly force gripped Joseph's very being. An invisible puppeteer seized control of his limbs, manipulating him against his will—yet unlike when the original Zephyr took control, he felt everything. The slave mark on his neck glowed ominously, pulsating light that synchronized with his steady heartbeat.

He attempted to resist, quickly found himself powerless, and abandoned the idea. No point fighting the inevitable. He could feel it—an eerie, external compulsion pushing against his consciousness, forcing his body to comply with every step.

His legs carried him forward. He stole glances at her eyes before finding himself standing before her. Her gaze was cold, unforgiving, devoid of any compassion. She relished the control she wielded, lips curling into a cruel smirk. Though taller than him, he didn't shudder as he looked up at her visage, quickly taking a knee.

Something heavy slammed into his face. His entire body crashed down under the weight of Rayah's foot, jaw slamming the ground with intensity that could have killed a bear if unprepared.

"UNDER MY FOOT! This is where you belong!" She stomped on his skull. Joseph felt his entire brain rattle with piercing pain, yet he didn't scream.

"What use is a dog who does not bark and attack when his master is defending!?" She stomped again. Joseph made no sign of attempting to defend himself.

Rayah's foot continued to mercilessly descend upon Joseph's skull. Her insults rained down—a cascade of scorn and disdain. With each impact, Joseph's world shook, his mind clouded with pain, but his voice remained silent.

"You are nothing but a disposable cur, after so long, have you learned nothing!?" Rayah's voice was a venomous hiss, dripping with malice. "How could you have regressed to be even worse than before!? How is that even possible!? This prison truly made you think you were my equal!? You are my equal?! Then show me! Where is your pride, your defiance? You disgust me!"

Her foot rose and fell repeatedly, the sound echoing in the cramped space as the others watched in silence.

...

Suddenly, Rayah ceased her assault.

She glared down at Joseph, expression twisted in disgust that abruptly curled into a grin as she withdrew her foot with an exaggerated sigh.

"My feet... they ache from all this exertion, and still sore from the day's labor in the mines. It seems even in your worthlessness, you can be of some use... So I'll refrain from disposing of you just yet..."

Her command was clear, cold, and devoid of any trace of humanity. "Lick my feet, dog. Soothe the ache with your tongue. That's all you're good for, isn't it? Hahah... Or do you consider this a reward? Yes... Indeed, you should feel truly blessed..."

Joseph, still kneeling, could feel the heavy weight of her gaze upon him, the pressure of her will bearing down. The slave mark pulsed ominously—a silent reminder of the bond that held him in thrall. An inscrutable look crossed his hidden face as his body responded to her command, moving almost mechanically.

Yet this time seemed different.

For every inch forward, his head moved a step back. The slave mark on his neck began glowing with overwhelming intensity. For a moment, it almost seemed like his head moved backward even more than forward...

However...

All resistance stopped. Zephyr leaned forward, extending his tongue toward her foot. It seemed he was powerless to resist. He could feel the eyes of the others upon him—their silent judgment like daggers in his back.

"Look at him, so eager to debase himself! Truly, a dog through and through!"