Cursed Odyssey

Joseph's Mental Notes (Recap, skip if unneeded)

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Skylar Rockbell:

On the outside, a sweet girl with a strong sense of justice. She acts weak, but is surprisingly strong, at least compared to me.

According to Rayah, she was once an orphan who lived on the streets. Seems to know me?

Rayah Vandymion:

Youngest daughter of the esteemed Vandymion household, as well as my master.

Sadistic. Highly unpredictable. At times loud, other times quiet.

Everyone seems to be scared of her, or at least scared of disrespecting her.

Claims that her household will come find her, turning the prison into rubble.

Flynn Novus:

The eldest of all my cellmates— will be turning 16 today and be 'released' and 'sold'.

The son of a knight captain, (ashamed of his lack of skill according to Rayah).

Gwynn Felt:

Very loud and talkative— unusually jovial for a boy in prison.

The only one seemingly with hope of escaping.

Family of wind whisperers.

Arthur Valentine:

An enigma. He seems very logical, and the most level-headed in the entire group.

Seemingly no hope for escaping, and is waiting until it is his time to be released.

Was once betrothed to Rayah before his household lost power.

More powerful than Rayah without arcane spirits.

Knows somehow that the Vandymions will never come save them (but how?)

Samsara:

Quiet, observant, mysterious.

A Ki master, and knows some of my secrets.

Suspicious of my dual identity.

Trying to escape, and is for now my only ally.

Guard Urslan:

The Arcanist of flame.

Hot-headed, emotionally charged, warned by the Warden to never come close to me and my cellmates.

Suspicious of me…

Captain Alton Grey:

Known as the 'human lie detector', he investigated me, finding no evidence to suggest my involvement in the murder case.

Sharp, attentive, a danger I have put myself in the crosshair of…

The Warden:

A woman with a suffocating presence, but unusual kindness that hinted at an ulterior motive…

For what purpose does she have only children locked up in such a place?

_______________________________________________

Day 3

Arthur

*Pffp*

"..."

*Pffp* *Pffp*

The events of the previous night had shattered what little peace my mind still possessed. Sleep had been a stranger, leaving me drifting in the gray space between consciousness and exhaustion.

"Errrggg..."

*Pffp* *Pffp* *Pffp*

The sound was subtle, barely louder than a whisper, yet it pierced through my haze like a needle. Light seeped through my eyelids, unwelcome and blurry.

Morning already?

I blinked several times, forcing my vision to focus as I searched for the source of that peculiar sound. That's when I saw him.

What's that dreg doing?

The short, skinny boy with red eyes and ashen hair was already awake, pacing the cell with darting, restless eyes. Zephyr's gaze flicked from place to place like a caged animal seeking escape routes.

I kept silent, watching.

Suddenly, Zephyr's steps stopped in front of the cell bars. He stared directly at the lock, bent his knees, and leaned closer for inspection. Then—most bizarrely—he scraped rust from the metal and pressed it against his tongue like some demented food critic.

Has he gone completely mad?

After what the boy had endured last night, madness seemed entirely possible. The more I observed, the more questions multiplied in my mind.

Zephyr moved away from the bars, his leg catching something small. Startled, he lifted his foot and looked down before carefully picking up the object.

I finally spoke in a hushed whisper. "That's your soup from yesterday. Probably cold as ice now."

The boy shook—my voice clearly startled him.

"So... this food is mine?" Zephyr clarified with the timid uncertainty of a beaten dog.

"Yes, you forgot to drink it yesterday. It's yours, so enjoy." I yawned.

Zephyr gripped his bowl more firmly and sat against the wall. He stared at the soup for several seconds before finally taking a gulp.

Any second now. I couldn't help but sigh.

As the liquid hit Zephyr's throat, he reflexively gagged, spitting out nearly everything. For a first-timer, I was surprised he kept any of it down. That soup was one of the saltiest concoctions imaginable—it probably tasted like rain from clouds above The Abyss.

Zephyr's eyes widened, then squeezed shut as his eyebrows shot toward his hairline. His nose wrinkled fiercely, nostrils flaring, lips pursing as the corners of his mouth pulled down. His head jerked back slightly as he began silently coughing, face reddening, eyes filling with sudden tears.

He'll get used to it.

I sat up straight, mentally preparing my barely functioning eyelids to start the day. But then—

*Crack*

The soup bowl went flying, crashing against the middle frame of the cell bars. Liquid poured and dripped everywhere.

*BLEH*

My brows furrowed. Something primal stirred in me—seeing food wasted while we rotted on scraps made me want to raise my voice. No matter how unbearable it tasted, food was still sustenance. I'd thought a slave would understand that better than anyone.

Then again, why should I care? It was Zephyr's portion. If the boy wanted to starve himself to death, that was his choice.

This kid... Must I really keep an eye on him?

The impact was just loud enough to stir our sleeping cellmates without fully waking them. It blended with the normal ambience, no louder than a distant falling rock.

However, there were always exceptions.

"Hhhh... huh...?" Gwynn rose from his back like a resurrecting zombie, groaning through a massive yawn with outstretched arms.

"Damn... already awake, Zephyr? Hmm? Arthy-poo...?" He giggled with a goofy, tired expression.

"Call me that again, and it's your face getting shoved into the poo bucket." My response was immediate, earning Gwynn's laughter that woke the entire cell.

Beyond that momentary disturbance, the morning proceeded as usual.

In the hushed calm, everyone went through their routines in silence, waiting for the guard to unlock our doors and lead us to the mines. I sat motionless, lost in thought.

I leaned against the wall, gazing through rusted bars at the expansive sky visible through the gaping hole above. What should have been serene blue appeared as murky gray haze.

Today is the day, isn't it? Have patience. Endure all the way. That's the only path forward.

My mind churned endlessly, hands unconsciously tapping the wet floor until a sudden noise jolted me from my stupor.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP AND STAND THE FUCK HIGHER!!"

I rose lazily and lined up at the back, shackled like the rest.

We were escorted along the now-familiar route in single file. With each leaden step, time felt slowed, my eyes drifting mindlessly from the brooding sky to the iron bars enclosing us.

The heavens rumbled, dark gray clouds thickening as rain poured like crashing hail.

As we reached the elevator, I saw it through the rain—

Three sparks of moonlight. No, five. No... eleven. Eleven sparks of moonlight.

My breathing stilled, heartbeat steadying as parting storm clouds reflected in the sudden glimmer in my eyes.

I took a deep breath and looked around. Naturally, no one else had noticed. Yet a peculiar feeling lingered, pricking deep within—stubborn gray clouds that refused to leave this otherwise pristine sky.

Could this be a bad omen?

I inwardly shook my head, fixing the slight cracks that had briefly formed on my outer facade. Now wasn't the time to worry. So far, everything was proceeding exactly as planned.

*Snap*

---

The purple mines dazzled as ever, yet the clank of pickaxes and prisoner bustle felt worlds apart from the day before.

Everyone spoke in hushed whispers.

"Piss off! No fucking way someone died... right?"

"Yes fucking way... I'd know since he's one of my cellmates..."

"What happened?!"

"No clue... but rumors say some rubble collapsed on him while mining yesterday..."

"Yeah, sure... like that'd actually happen... If you ask me, someone clearly wanted him dead. Probably pissed off some guard, knowing that idiot..."

"Ehh... who cares! Good riddance to that bozo..." another boy interrupted.

"Only reason you're celebrating is because your weak ass always got robbed by him... pathetic... Maybe it's some loser victim like you that secretly killed him!"

"H—huh—no no! 'The Hierophant' as my witness, I'm innocent! Ah—I have an alibi!"

Rumors of Norman Jire's death had spread throughout the entire prison. But that wasn't the only reason for the changed atmosphere—the guards, previously aloof and nonchalant, now paced the mine like silent snakes with sharp, attentive eyes.

Arthur found a lone pocket of crystals to capitalize on, with Gwynn and Flynn working not far away. Horizontally across from them, in clear view, Samsara and Skylar mined near each other but definitely not together. Slightly ahead of them were Joseph and Rayah.

"Mine faster!! It was bad enough you made me do this all on my own yesterday!!"

"Understood—"

"What is it?! Did I beat you too hard yesterday?? Got a little boo-boo?" she mocked. "Mine any slower and I'll..."

Unlike his first time in the mine, Joseph was unsurprisingly stuck with Rayah, who sat on a rock behind him, berating him with insults as he labored to fulfill her quota.

Though his body remained severely injured, he managed to mine much faster than before. He'd grown accustomed to his new form and no longer needed to divide attention between mining and creating a sound-cancelling Ki bubble.

Through the momentary barrage of insults, he kept his senses sharp. Years of ruling the underworld had honed a sixth sense, keen as a wolf sensing prey on the wind.

Right now, that wolfish instinct prickled the back of his neck—several sets of eyes watched him from all directions. Extra attention was obviously expected after what happened the night before.

His gaze flickered across shadowed corners of the expanse, then to his cellmates.

An hour passed.

Suddenly, Flynn disappeared from Joseph's view. Has he finished mining already? The thought crossed his mind for less than a millisecond before he dismissed something so absurd.

It was far before any other inmate had even filled half their barrows.

Twenty minutes later, Flynn abruptly returned, mining again as if nothing had happened. Then Gwynn left.

Like clockwork, every twenty minutes, one of his cellmates would leave and return, only for another to take their place. After Gwynn came Skylar, then Samsara—each disappearing and reappearing in turn.

As Joseph filled the last of Rayah's barrow, she too finally left without a trace.

Now alone, Joseph's mind raced with possibilities, though it didn't need to race far to reach the correct conclusion.

First, he should ask someone who knew for certain.

"Samsara!" Joseph walked over. "Do you mind if we talk?"

"Why certainly, Zephyr..." She smiled, wiping sweat from her forehead.

A sudden voice interrupted.

"Uhhh ummm..." Skylar twiddled her thumbs. "I was thinking about asking if you wanted to talk first... I have a lot I wanted to talk to you about and—"

"I'm sorry... maybe another time, Skylar? I did want to thank you for standing up for me before... No one has ever done that for me... ever..." Joseph put on a bright smile.

"Ohh... okay... And uhhh... if you guys are moving... can I also come along?" she continued.

"I think he wants to talk in private, yes?" Samsara glanced at Joseph, who confirmed it.

"Ah—yes... I'm sorry... go on..."

---

"I'll get to the point... where were you, and what happened?" Joseph wasted no time.

"Wow wow, 'Not Zephyr!' No need to be so forward. We are comrades, but where is the respect?"

"Yeah... you're right... I'm sorry... It's just a lot on my mind and you're like the—"

"I went to Captain Alton Gray's office..." As soon as she said those words, something shifted in Joseph's chest.

"And what did he ask you?"

"He—"

---

Alton's office had never been the same since the incident. For once, sounds other than his usual jazz punctuated the space, and the mess on his desk that usually possessed unusual order no longer had that same finesse—especially with his current guest.

"WHAT THE HELL KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?!" Rayah exploded. "Why would my slave be turned into a completely different person?! Do you take me for an idiot?! He's my slave, so if anyone would notice, it'd be me!!"

"Miss Vandymion... please, I oblige you to simply put your hand on the lie detector and answer the question. Answer, then you are free to depart back to your cell. Simple, no?"

"FINE!!" She aggressively placed her hand on the orb, snow-white hair shaking violently. "I, Rayah Vandymion, youngest daughter of the Vandymion household, vow that I have noticed no major changes in the demeanor of my slave since he woke in this prison!"

"..."

The orb glowed, revealing its answer.

"Miss Vandymion... your answer is..."