Two weeks had passed since the Rite of Ascension, and Alan sat curled in a dark corner of his own dukedom prison, still in ceremonial tunic, now torn and filthy.
His face ached,swollen and bruised from the fists of soldiers who'd once bowed to him, their punches harder when he'd dared to beg for mercy. His blue eyes are red and dull, broken by betrayal.
Tensely clutching his knees, he shook from the weight of his broken world as well as the cold. He ought to have been hailed as the successor to Natalia, the former Sun God's champion.
Instead, he was thrown into this cell and called a devil by his parents, family, and loved ones.
One inmate was sprawled on a splintered wooden bench across the tiny cell, snoring quietly. It looks like a debtor or small-time thief.
Alan wanted to have that reckless ease, being able to doze off as everything collapsed.
The sound of steady, sharp footsteps reverberated down the stone hallway. Alan's heart leaped with a glimmer of hope as his head jerked up.
Beyond the bars, a familiar face emerged: Linda, his nanny and the person who had raised him.
She had a pale face and what he assumed were tears in her eyes. Hope briefly bloomed in his chest, soft and desperate. His voice was soft but bright despite the pain, and he forced a weak smile.
"Linda, you came? Are you okay? You… you really came to see me?"
Her presence felt like a lifeline, and he needed someone, anyone, to rescue him from this wrapping darkness.
But her lips curled into a sneer as her face contorted. She spat, her voice icy and cruel, "Shut your mouth, you wretched little monster."
Alan froze, his smile fading as he stared into her eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman who had sung him lullabies and laughed at his silly gifts. There was only a cold stare that made his heart skip a beat.
His voice broke as he whispered, "Linda?"
"What's wrong? Why are you… like this?"
Her voice rose like a lash as she approached the bars, her face contorted with disgust.
"You disgusting brat, you destroyed me."
"I poured years in you with the hope that you would be Suarus's chosen and the next great champion. I was going to serve the powerful Alane Fitzgerald and live in luxury. And now? Because you're a damned, dirty devil, I'm going back to cleaning floors like a regular drudge!"
Her words stabbed his chest, each one a fresh wound. "You're a stain on this world. You should've been strangled at the Rite."
"Linda… I thought you loved me," he choked out, his voice cracking. "I thought… you were my friend."
"Love you?" Linda laughed, a harsh, cruel sound that bounced off the stone. "You're nothing but a walking curse. I wasted my life on you, and now I'm paying for it. You deserve to rot in here, you disgusting little wretch."
"I hope you suffer every second of it."
Alan's knees gave out, his body sagging against the wall as tears streamed down his face. Before he could speak, Linda stepped aside, revealing a another figure behind her.
His younger brother Kaeln peered out, his blue eyes, which used to resemble Alan's, now glimmering with sly smirk.
Hope flitted once more, feeble and stupid. "Kaeln?" Alan's voice was hardly audible as he muttered. "Did you… come to help me?"
Kaeln's lips curled into a sneer. "Help you? Don't flatter yourself. I just had to see the sorry mess you've become, even after Mother warned me not to go near the devil."
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he looked Alan over with undisguised contempt.
"All those years, you strutted around like the sun rose for you. Every noble smiled when you walked by. Father kept calling you the heir, it's like it was written in the stars."
His tone hardened, voice laced with bitterness. "And me? I was the shadow. The spare. The one who had to scrape and claw just to be seen. But now?" His mouth twisted into a cruel grin.
"Now they're finally looking at me. Not because they have to. But because I earned it."
He leaned in, voice dropping low. "I wonder… when Suarus saw what you really are, did he recoil? Or did he just laugh?"
Alan stumbled back, his back hitting the cold stone wall, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Linda and Kaeln stood together, their faces unrecognizable, twisted into cruel masks.
They weren't his family, his friends, they were strangers, monsters in familiar skins.
"Young master," Linda said sharply, turning to Kaeln, "we should leave. Your parents will have my head if they find us here."
Kaeln nodded, his smirk lingering like a fresh cut. But before they turned away, Linda reached into her pocket and yanked out the flower-shaped hairpin, the one Alan had given her as a child.
She threw it at him, the metal striking his bruised cheek with a sharp sting. "I'd be cursed just for touching your filthy gifts,"
"Keep your devil's trinkets."
The hairpin clattered to the stone floor, and Alan stared at it, tears falling faster as he sank to his knees, clutching the hairpin in trembling fingers. "Why?" he sobbed, his voice raw, breaking apart.
"Why is this happening?"
"Why won't they just kill me and end it?"
A low, rough voice cut through his despair, calm and almost bored. "Why beg for death when they're making you suffer so well?" The other prisoner, still sprawled on the bench, hadn't moved, his eyes closed.
Alan's head snapped up, tears blurring his vision as he stared at the man. "What?" he whispered.
"Have you made any mistakes?"
Alan shook his head. "Never," he whispered.
His face remained a hazy void, features indistinct, as if Alan's mind refused to piece them together. "Then why crave death? That's the coward's way out. Pretty dumb for someone who's done no wrong."
"Then what should I do? What can I do?"
The prisoner leaned back against the cold stone wall. "Revenge, the sweetest thing. Want to taste it?"
Alan's breath caught, his eyes widening. "Revenge?" he echoed, the word heavy, new, but stirring something deep inside.
The man leaned closer "Revenge is making them feel every ounce of your pain, like your parents who cast you out, your brother who mocked you, that nanny who spat on your gifts, and the gods who branded you a devil while they sat on their thrones. It's tearing down their lies, their power, until they're the ones begging. You want to make them suffer, don't you? Every last one of them?"
Alan's heart pounded, his tears slowing as the idea grew. His parents' cold eyes, Kaeln's cruel grin, Linda's harsh words, the gods who'd marked as devil,they'd all turned on him.
He'd been a good son, a kind boy, and never did anything wrong. Why should they walk free?
"Can I… make them pay?"
The prisoner extended a rough, scarred hand. "Our paths cross for a reason, kid," the man said, his voice low and commanding. "I Vanzoeath can guide you to that vengeance, show you how to break them all. But it's your choice. Take my hand, or stay rotting in those mines. What'll it be?"
Alan swallowed, his throat tight, tears still wet on his cheeks. He saw his family's betrayal, Linda's hairpin hitting his face, Kaeln's mocking smile. Why shouldn't they hurt like he did? Why shouldn't the gods pay?
His small hand shook as he reached out, paused, then grabbed the prisoner's hand.
---
At present.
Alan died from the impact of the fall and collapsed on the ground. In Front of his body was a dark figure, shrouded in ash, its shape changing like smoke, emanating a heavy, ancient power.
Through the darkness came the rasp of an old, chilly voice.
"Well, you made the right decision. Accept the Thirteenth God's blessings now."
A grey glyph ignited on Alan's hand, thirteen jagged runes circling a black void. The mark burned cold, searing into his skin before vanishing beneath it.
The voicelower now, almost whispering.
"Go. Seek your revenge."
"And vengeance… for me, Vanzoeath."
"Don't try to die, kid. Even if you do…"
The figure leaned in, "…I'll drag you back. As many times as it takes."
"Now go wild."
**********
[Skill: Return by Death activated!]
"I… I tried to fight," Moriko whispered, her voice breaking. "I couldn't… I couldn't stop them…"
Alan froze and blinked, his vision clearing. Moriko was kneeling on the tunnel floor a few feet away, her golden eyes wide with shock, her torn tunic barely covering her body.
She clutched herself, trembling, tears streaming down her face and flattening her cat ears.
Sweat trickled down Alan's face as his thoughts raced. He was certain that he had witnessed Moriko's death, her scream, her legs collapsing, blood all over the place, and his body feeling lighter and free of the pain of beatings.
"Mori…ko?" he said, his voice shaky, confusion clouding his thoughts.
"You're… alive?"