The Xandros family had sent a search party for him. Riven hissed, the bitter realization setting in. After countless escape attempts, it looked like his freedom wouldn't last. For most of his life, Riven had lived in the hell of a single room, only venturing out occasionally to explore the mansion grounds and never beyond.
"You're a blessed curse." The sentence had tormented him for years.
These were the words the members of the Xandros family used to keep him from leaving the mansion.
His life had been nothing but "cursed riches."
He got everything, but lost something in the process. At first, the statement made no sense, but over time he understood its true meaning. It was the difference between wants and needs. To Riven, things like food, shelter, and clothing had become mere wants over the years. What he truly needed, what he yearned for, was freedom.
After countless failed plans, he had finally escaped the clutches of his family, but his happiness was short-lived.
Why had they "imprisoned" him though? He didn't care to know. There was no time to dwell on the past. He had to get to Kippy before she got back home.
Since the officials already knew her address, only the gods knew what his family would do to her. After she had done him such a huge favor, repaying her by getting her captured by the Xandros family was a betrayal he couldn't stomach.
****
After a while, the officials with the lanterns left, and minutes later, the ones pursuing Riven also passed by the cart, disappearing into the night. They wouldn't give up so easily, not now that they knew where he had been staying. Riven waited until the surroundings felt calm and normal, then he moved toward the spire.
He moved through the streets of Aurethia, a city that came alive under the glow of its cinder lamps. The buildings, with their ornate cornices and intricate stonework, cast long, elegant shadows. The cobblestone streets, still wet from a recent rain, reflected the flickering light, giving the city a ghostly, ethereal quality. He passed a grand opera house with its darkened windows, a bustling market now silent, and a row of tightly packed tenements. The air was cool and smelled of damp earth and old coal. He ran past bakeries and tailors, all fast asleep, their works locked behind heavy wooden doors. The city was a beautiful, sprawling maze, but to Riven, it was a terrifying gauntlet.
His gaze was fixed on the spire of the Mechanum Chapel.
Finally, he reached the chapel. It was a massive Gothic structure, its gray stone facade soaring into the night sky. The ornate details of its flying buttresses and pointed arches were highlighted by the gentle, smoky glow of cinder lamps placed at intervals along its perimeter. The stained-glass windows, dark and unlit, promised magnificent colors he couldn't see. A large wooden door, carved with intricate religious symbols, stood at the entrance. Riven hesitated for a second.
"What if... No... But... what if... Just what if? Aah... Damn anxiety," he hissed, and pushed the heavy door open.
Inside, the vast chamber was lit by the soft glow of countless candles placed in every corner. It was a room with no windows, but the flames created a warm, flickering light that danced on the stone walls and high, vaulted ceilings. At the far end of the room was a small wooden door, from which faint whispers emanated. Riven moved toward it, his footsteps silent on the cold stone floor.
He pressed his ear against the door, trying to make out the words, but he could only hear a low, rhythmic mumbling. He couldn't hear a feminine voice.
Wait. Someone was mumbling with their mouth closed? Weird.
Summoning courage out of sheer desperation, he pushed the door open. The sight that greeted him was the most unimaginable of all.
The room was vast, lit by candles that cast long shadows. In the center was a thick, stone platform the height of a wine table. Around it, seven people dressed in white robes with red cloths tied around their waists stood in a circle.
But what truly shocked him was the sight on the platform. A girl lay there, her mouth bound by a black cloth. Her hands were tied to long ropes that were secured to nails on either side of the platform.
The girl was Ashwyn!
"What in damn hell is going on here?" Riven muttered, his bravado momentarily failing him.
Ashwyn looked at him, her body thrashing, a muffled sound escaping her lips. Was she telling him to run? To help her? He didn't know. But one thing was clear: this looked exactly like a ritual.
These people were bad news, and he was going to help his benefactor from whatever this scenario was about, no matter the cost.
'Turning into a hero at the last minute only happens in dreams,' he thought, but a sarcastic smirk crossed his face.
'Boohoo, I'm so scared of seven people in white.'
"Huh? How dare you wander into the Mechanum Chapel?" one of the robed men asked, his voice low and menacing.
"Huh... First, it's a chapel for every citizen of Aurethia, and I should be the one asking the questions here, old man," Riven shot back, his bravado masking his fear.
The seven people looked at him with unreadable expressions, while Ashwyn dropped her head back onto the platform in utter defeat, as if to say, 'We're doomed.'
'Hmm... four women and three men... easy-peasy,' he thought, surveying his "opponents."
"Now, limbos... release the girl, or else..." he said, pointing an absurdly dramatic finger at Ashwyn.
"Be gone, boy... or else..."
'Who replies "or else" with "or else"?' Riven thought, but he discarded the question and charged forward mindlessly.
****
Riven slowly opened his eyes. He was on the floor, his head throbbing, having crashed into the wall. He remembered. Ten seconds ago, as he charged, the woman who had told him to leave had extended her hand, and it had mutated into an almost skeletal, bloody appendage that had sent him flying backwards, crashing into the wall.
'What in the hell... did her hand just mutate? Ouch...' His face ached as if he had been hit with a massive piece of metal. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see the woman staring at him with murderous eyes.
'I take it back... they're monsters in white, not humans.'
As of now, there was no time to even think about the hows, whys, or what-the-hells. Those were questions for later, assuming he and Ashwyn left this place alive. The woman raised her mutated hand, ready to land a deadlier punch.
'Should have just stayed indoors,' he thought, catching a glimpse of Ashwyn, who was now silent, her gaze fixed on him with an unreadable expression.
Her silence conveyed a message: 'It was nice knowing you.' He felt a pang of despair. If he was killed now, she would be too.
'I'm nothing but bad luck.'
He closed his eyes, unable to move, ready for the punch. A single thought flashed through his mind, a final defiant act of a life half-lived. He might be a curse, a prisoner, but he had run, he had fought, and he had come for his benefactor.
Come to think of it.. His death was a happy death.
He was able to live his dream. Finally be able to see the outside world. Ate a weird but delicious soup. Learnt about a tiny beast called a rat and ran alongside a thief. Ohh.. Lest i forget.. He also saw the room of a girl and her bare back as a bonus.
Truly... It was a happy death.
At least... he had felt....
'..Freedom.. I know what freedom feels like...'