Cursed Odyssey

*Crack...*

The chains between Rayah's hands snapped in half with one clean slash. Two more precise cuts, and the cuffs fell to the ground with metallic clangs.

Rayah stared, dumbstruck. Tension she hadn't even realized she carried melted away like snow on a warm morning. Arcane energy welcomed her back.

"Zephyr?" The name barely escaped her lips. She wanted to scream at him, demand answers, ask where the hell he'd been. But the gravity in his eyes made her choose patience instead.

"It's time to leave."

He pulled her to her feet. Pain shot through her legs like lightning. Despite recovering slightly, they still threatened to snap like dry twigs, but she held steady.

"Follow me. We have no time." His whisper carried the urgency of a shout as he leaped through the window into morning sunlight.

Rayah's mind lagged behind, but her body followed.

"Where have you been?" The question finally burst out. "What's going on!?"

"Long story." His voice was grim. "I'll explain once we're safe. All you need to know—the village is chaos. Pure anarchy. Villagers are at each other's throats, and we're primary targets. They'll realize you were here soon enough."

That was a lot to process at once.

Rayah fought the urge to press harder but let it go. "So what now? Planning to wipe them out?" She smiled, conjuring a snowball in her palm. Then frowned.

WHAT IS THIS PATHETIC THING? she roared inwardly.

"You're in no condition to fight, and it's not worth our time. I have a strong feeling the Warden's men are tracking us. Our main priority is to get as far from here as possible."

Rayah's face paled. She didn't doubt Zephyr's words for a second.

"That tree." He pointed toward the forest, at a tree slightly taller than the others. "Meet me there in fifteen minutes. Take a safe route around the village to avoid the chaos." He pulled a large brown sack from nearby grass—bulging and heavy. "Take this too." He smiled, turning away with a casual wave.

"HUH?" Rayah blurted. "Where the hell do you think you're going, you damn slave? And you're making me carry all your shit?"

"I still have things to finish." The corner of his mouth curled upward. "And yes, I am." Those lips parted to reveal his teeth—dull, brown, slightly crooked, but somehow radiating warmth.

Then he vanished into the bushes.

Rayah reached out, hand clenched, before looking down at the sack he'd abandoned. She gritted her teeth, then slowly unclenched her fists and relaxed her shoulders.

Now wasn't the time for a tantrum.

She calmed herself, trusting this was all part of Zephyr's plan.

I'll just have to punish him when I see him again.

Taking a moment, she pondered everything he'd told her. Chaos? Anarchy? Why did I think this village would be peaceful? She shrugged. What could have happened?

With effort that nearly threw out her back, she hefted the brown sack onto her shoulders. Much heavier than expected, but manageable.

What the hell is in here!?

She looked up at the tree atop the hill, took her first step, then realized something.

That slave is headed toward the village. Didn't he say it was dangerous? What's he planning? She turned back toward the open window, the house that had almost felt like home.

He said the mob would come here soon. Think that crazy lady will survive? She shook her head. Not my problem. I'm the target. What would they want with a demented old woman?

Screams erupted in the distance. Roars. The sound of battle. Memories of the prison escape flashed through her mind. They were close.

She turned away with a deep breath, not looking back, and sprinted into the forest as fast as her legs could carry her.

---

This is a nightmare!

An absolute nightmare!

Adrian, Lord of humans, ran.

Behind the main stage of the Holy House lay a secret exit few knew about. His walking cane tapped frantically, matching his racing heart as he nearly fell pushing through the door.

The cool winter morning that usually brought calm rejuvenation felt anything but pleasant now.

How? How could this have happened?

In mere days, everything had crumbled.

His mind throbbed with its own heartbeat. He could barely see ahead—everything wavered like a mirage, vertigo overwhelming him as if he were dying of thirst in a desert.

What had come to this village?

The answer was clear.

That damned outsider!

"He's over here!" The mob's voices closed in behind him.

He quickened his pace unconsciously, mind still reeling.

What did he even plan? How could a single outsider do this? He never wanted to help! Never wanted to help at all!

Indeed, help had never been the plan.

What was his objective?

His objective had become rather clear.

How did he know I wouldn't execute him? He came to this village as a near-corpse in desperation!

But those thoughts were false.

The outsider hadn't arrived from desperation. He'd spent two days surveying the village from shadows, witnessing the subtle hatred—though at the time it was just a flicker.

With his temporal echo, he'd framed and instigated. Sabotaged in ways unseen and unknown. Stoked flames to fire.

He knew Adrian better than he knew himself. He did not gamble, he manifested the future.

My magnanimity was the sole reason for his survival!

Another illusion.

In normal villages, children worked the fields—valuable manual labor. Poor families often birthed multiple children for extra hands. But in Hano village, children had complete freedom. Quite odd.

The outsider had snuck into their sermons, understanding their hatred of outsiders, their culture and customs. Even the holy sphere's existence. He'd identified the leaders, kept close watch.

That's when he'd found the key.

Adrian possessed the power to see every villager's orb. By choosing correct routes, noting everyone's location, he could move anywhere unnoticed. But he hadn't factored in the outside variable—someone unmarked watching from the shadows.

My love!

He panted, legs moving on pure fear and adrenaline. He cast aside his spiraling thoughts.

His lover kept close watch on one of the outsiders. A huge mob would inevitably seek her out.

She'd already endured so much pain, loss, heartbreak. He wanted her safety. Her smile. Her happiness.

Like every child in Hano village, Adrian had been unruly. Being blessed by the Arcane made him special in the previous leaders' eyes—top candidate for future human leader, despite having no interest, despite never becoming a priest.

Eventually, he'd accepted it all as destiny. He thought he knew what to expect, but the truth shattered him.

Village leaders, priests, holy men—all forbidden from finding love. They were to dedicate their entire being to serving ancestors and people.

But how can that be expected of a man? All humans yearn for true affection, comfort! A man of the Lord has no comfort but in "His" embrace. But what if there's no such thing? No love from the lord? How would a man cope with that realization?

What could mend his broken soul?

Yes, he'd always sneak off at night to see her…

The house came into view—quiet, on the village's far side, away from madness. He activated spirit vision, finding her orb as lively and welcoming as ever.

He burst through the door, practically in tears.

"Anne! My love! We must leave!"

Anne stood at the table, mortar and pestle in hand. Long blonde hair cascaded to her chest, glistening gold in warm sunlight. Her emerald eyes looked almost grey, yet to Adrian, they held a shining luster.

She turned, initial shock melting into that ever-comforting smile.

"Adrian? My Lord? What is—"

But even facing such warmth, Adrian couldn't calm. If anything, it heightened his urgency, made his heartbeat louder.

"We must leave! Immediately!"

Anne's expression transformed completely. She dropped the mortar and pestle, crushed herbs scattering in a crash.

"Are... are they after my babies? But you promised—" Her heart sank as she rushed to Rayah's room.

Cold air assaulted her face as she opened the door, greeted by an empty bed.

"Rayah? Dearest Rayah? They took her?" She wailed from her core. "Not again! What happened? You promised me—" She gasped, nearly losing breath. "Where is Zephyr?"

Zephyr? His brain whirled, remembering that name. The same name mentioned by the shadowy messenger from prison. That boy Joseph was truly Zephyr all along!

Before he could formulate words, noise erupted behind them.

"It's there! He went there! That's where they housed the other outsider too!"

He looked at Anne, her body trembling as she clutched her chest, tears flowing.

"Quickly!"

The voices grew louder.

Without hesitation, Adrian ran. He grabbed Anne's small figure and leaped through the window.

"What's happening? Where are they? Where are my babies? Explain! Who's after us? Who's after them? What's happening?" She cried, struggled, but Adrian wouldn't release her.

"Listen! Long story! First we need somewhere safe!" He hugged tight as she kept resisting.

"Let go! I'm not going anywhere without my babies! Not now! Not ever! Never again!" She fought with all her might, but Adrian held firm.

"Calm down! Please, my love! Not the time! That mob is after us!"

"Grahhh!" Anne wept—

"I hear them! Over here!" Her voice alerted the mob.

Adrian faced a choice.

He could flee into the forest—but he didn't know how to survive, which direction led to civilization. Most importantly, he couldn't use spirit vision to detect slumbering beasts.

His other option: return to the village. Rally and convince his people. Salvage what remained. Perhaps peace was still possible.

Maybe if he waited long enough, those prison outsiders would come resolve this mess.

He desperately clung to hope.

But none of those decisions mattered.

Life was no idealistic fantasy.

"Damn fraud!"

Soon, he found himself surrounded.

Not by Zotts, but by his own people.

He remained on the ground, crying Anne still wailing in his arms.

He felt their uncanny yet familiar glares. Faces twisted with fury, calloused hands gripping makeshift weapons—daggers, pitchforks, hoes, crude clubs. Death hung in the air.

However, there was an odd moment of solemnity.

A man in a farmer's hat stepped from the encirclement, holding a sharp pitchfork. Rough-looking but with learned eyes. Tanned, patchy skin from sun exposure, grey-streaked blonde hair dripping sweat onto furrowed brows as he screamed with a hoarse voice.

"Lord... No! You're no lord! How could you? You lied to us! Deceived us! While keeping the outside world away, you indulged in it like an animal! A love partner for the leader isn't permitted, yet you have a lover? A damned witch?"

He clenched his fists, continued.

"Rules for thee but not for me? You don't even believe in our ancestors! Our customs! As leader, you hold no respect! You even colluded with Zotts to eat our children! You said woodland creatures took them, and like fools, we believed! We thought your words were divine law! You placed orbs in all of us to track our movements, all to get away with whatever you wanted! You played us for retards, bastard! Sold us an illusion! And funny enough... it's by an outsider's light that we finally know truth! An outsider you allowed to live!"

Adrian was momentarily speechless.

What the man said was false, yet somewhere deep down, he knew there was truth. His teeth clenched, whole body shaking with rage—at his people, the outsider, the world, himself.

He started to rise, ready to refute and reveal truth, but then a fragile, quivering voice rose beneath him. Soft at first, sweet as honey...

"You lied to me... used me... took advantage of me... You're no holy man... just a creep! A pervert! You make me sick!" Anne's body trembled, thick with goosebumps.

Indeed, women weren't informed of holy texts. Only certain subsects, not the full picture. Adrian had told her village leaders were allowed one spouse as long as they were interested before the crowning ceremony. He'd made excuses about the lord's forgiveness, said he wanted to keep their love secret before announcing it eventually.

He was the leader, a holy man chosen by ancestors. She had no reason to deny, accuse, or think ill of him. If anything, she saw it as honor—a gift from ancestors to fill the empty hole left by her family's death.

"So it was them! Those Zott lizards killed my babies! My husband! They kidnapped my dearest Rayah! And my little Zephyr!" she howled. "Everything you told me is a lie! You even helped the same people who killed my family? Then took advantage when I was most vulnerable? Was that your plan all along? Kill my family so you could swoop in like a saint? You are pure evil! A devil!" Tears cut raw paths down her cheeks. Tangled hair clung to her damp forehead, emerald eyes dripping endless rivers.

Suddenly, she opened her mouth and bit hard on Adrian's hand like a rabid dog.

He released her instantly, blood dripping from her teeth marks.

She fled, tears streaming but gaze fearless, charging toward the encirclement. A man gripping his weapon stood silent, letting her slip through without a glance.

"Seems she's also this son of a bitch's victim..." The mob leader sighed, shaking his head in pity. "Someone follow her. We'll stay to deal with this filth."

Filth? Me?

First time I've been described that way...

But is it false?

The more I think about it, the more fitting it feels...

I've lost everything.

Absolutely everything.

I have nothing.

Nothing left.

Slowly, he stood and looked into the blonde man's eyes.

"So what is it?" the man roared, brandishing his weapon. "Answer now or we'll torture it out of you!"

...

"You said the outsider's light... do you believe him your savior?" Adrian sneered, hands clenched. He looked up at them as if in mania.

...

"He opened our clouded eyes! Aided us all without asking anything back! Proved our customs were lies! Even as we beat, degraded, and shunned him for no reason except we were told to! He's the true saint! All we're waiting for is you to prove him right! If you were truly blessed by gods, read the sacred Luud scriptures, then smite us down now! No need to run! Come on! Prove him right!"

Prove him right? The boy who single-handedly destroyed any peace left in my life? A saint? But... was he wrong? No, he was not wrong!

"Yes! He's right! It's all been a lie! You know what the sacred scriptures said? The ancestors never existed! Our history was fabricated for peace! I never gained magical power! Nothing! After all my training as priest, all my faith! That was my reward! To find it was all meaningless!"

The blonde man bit his lips. This was a lie spanning generations. They were victims.

"Yet you still believed and indulged... Did you really think this lie would keep peace? Or was it to make yourself feel special? Chosen? Above us?" The blonde man laughed. "I can't believe it took so long to find this... That no previous leader revealed it... Thank that outsider Joseph who truly opened our eyes!"

"Wrong again!" Adrian roared. "It was never exposed because it was truth, and it worked! You have no idea how peaceful it was! Explain how there was no war, no conflict for generations? Just as the 'truth' comes out, it's pandemonium!"

"Nothing but illusion of peace... What kind of life is that?" The blonde farmer narrowed his eyes.

"Illusion? I promise it was all real! All so good until that damned outsider!" Adrian roared. "The Zotts never ate your children! It was him! He killed them and fed them to that Zott! That Zott was never with them before! Everything is his fault!"

"Enough lies!" The blonde farmer raised his weapon. "You've already proven what kind of man you are!"

"Absolute idiots! You only take what you want to hear as truth, disregard everything else that doesn't align with your bias as false! Can't you see how he's torn the village apart?"

The blonde man's eyes held anger, but also pity. "What a sad, sad existence you are... Time to put you down."

"You're all fucking morons! Retards! Idiots! Monkeys! What about Lagos? That boy is cursed! Where the hell is your savior no—"

He was cut down before finishing.

Stabbed, he collapsed.

The last scene of his life filled with haze.

Shadowy, ugly, disgusting figures smiling, his own people stabbing him over and over...

It felt like his soul left his body.

When he looked down from above, the ugliest, most disgusting figure...

Was himself.