In the Island of Oth
At the center of a clearing sat the Archmage, Maxvlque.
Across from him was a girl bound and restrained: Elyssia Hart, the fourth child of the Archduke.
Crackle! Cra—
Zaen energy shimmered around Maxvlque's body like caged lightning. With a casual flick of his finger, a bolt of lavender energy surged down and struck the torture device known as the Scavenger's Daughter.
And, by extension, Elyssia.
Her body jolted. Yet, she did not let out a scream, cry, nor any kind of sound.
She simply stared forward.
By now, "she got used to it" would be an understatement. Yet somehow, the phrase still felt appropriate. The Archmage had long since stopped treating her as human.
He had been infusing her bloodstream with volatile mana until her organs melted from the inside out.
And then, his proudest feat: the ancient grafting.
Parts of Elyssia's skeleton had been replaced with bones harvested from long-dead, magical creatures and humans. A technique foreign to the youngest of the seven continents, Othre, and one that would earn him another feat.
It was a high risk high return, as in exchange for him learning and being able to experiment his magic, if elyssia were to survive, then she would basically be a living weapon.
Not that he was planning to keep her alive.
Maxvlque, the Archmage, exhaled slowly.
He leaned back with a soft grunt. His wrinkled hand rose and his fingers curled slightly as he rubbed his long, white beard.
It was a gesture that might have seemed like thoughtful appreciation in any gentler context.
But here, it was the satisfied musing of a man who had just tested the limits of a living tool.
"A masterpiece in progress…"
He mumbled.
From behind the trees bordering the clearing, a man emerged: a cloaked attendant cloaked in black and purple robes bearing the crest of the Havin family.
"Archmage."
The man bowed deeply.
"The Archduke is en route. He shall arrive within the hour."
Maxvlque did not look at him.
He simply continued stroking his beard with eyes still fixed on Elyssia.
"Mm. Splendid. I should let him see what progress looks like."
***
In the Training Ground
...Hhgh.
Zach groaned and his eyes fluttered open.
A dull ache pulsed in his skull, but it vanished the moment he caught sight of Seven lying just a few feet away.
"W-What…?"
Unlike his normal calm demeanor, he was flabbergasted.
"Zack..."
Just as he called his name, Zack also woke up from being unconscious and a corpse in the distance was the first thing he noticed.
"Wha…?"
Zack scratched his neck and looked at Zach.
"Hey, did y—"
"No."
"What do you mea—"
"Youngest's already dead when I opened my eyes."
"...?!"
"...?"
The twins only looked at each other with confused expressions.
They were not planning to kill Seven. In fact, they were going to stop their swords on that last strike before it could touch Seven's neck.
But for some reason, they suddenly lost their strength and fainted.
"...?!"
"...?!"
For the second time, they only looked at each other as if communicating something and ran.
Step. Step.
They ran as fast as they could towards the main gate.
It was the most plausible plan given that since they were here without permission, it only means they would be accused of being the ones who were behind it.
Step. Step.
But just as they reached the gate, all four of the knights— two meant for twins, and two guarding the exiled mansion— were also slumped on the ground and unconscious.
Or so they first thought.
But looking closely, their hearts were also carved open and their hearts were stabbed.
Step. Step.
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed faintly through the trees, snapping the twins out of their frozen daze. Their eyes met.
They panicked.
"You sure this is the way? I told you we should've hired a guide."
"Pfft. I'm not paying ten Zevi an hour for some stick-legged villager."
"Shut it, both of you. Just keep walking."
Three figures emerged. Mercenaries.
The first one held a sword, then the axe, and the last one held no weapon.
Again, the village of exile just below the mansion bordered the Umbral Forest, thus these mercenaries probably lost their way.
The twins immediately entered the carriage, tied their mouths with clothes, along with their wrists. They were not smart, but they were clever enough to do this to avoid suspicion.
The three mercenaries neared.
"Wait… isn't that the Hart family's crest?"
"Shit. You're right."
"Let's back off. We don't touch nobility."
But just as they turned to leave…
"Mmmh!"
"MMHHH!!"
The twins screamed muffled behind the cloth as they trashed violently that shook the carriage.
On the other hand, the three mercenaries rushed to help them out of the carriage and saw the corpses of the four knights along the gate.
***
In the Exiled Mansion
Knock.
Iria called softly and pushed the door open with her shoulders whilst balancing a breakfast tray in one hand and a mop in the other.
She was wearing a gentle smile.
Step. Step.
She set the tray carefully on the desk near the bed.
"Young Lord, I've brought your breakf—"
Her voice faltered as she took in the room's condition.
The wall by the window was now gone; or rather, slumped inwards as if it melted. A faint ray of sunlight poured into the room from the misshapen gap.
Most of all, Seven was not there.
"Young Lord…?"
Step.
She approached the collapsed wall slowly as her slippers brushed against shards of warped wood and stone.
She looked down.
There, sprawled amidst the snowy training ground was Seven lying motionless and flat on his back alone. His limbs were loosely sprawled as if he was dropped from the sky.
For a second, she could not move.
Her fingers tightened around the wooden frame of the broken wall.
"Y-Young Lord?!"
The words left her mouth in a shriek before she even realized.
She turned on her heel and ran.
Step.
The mop clattered loudly against the floor as it dropped behind her. She bumped into the desk and the tray crashed too, sending both breakfast and herbal tea splashing across the wooden planks.
But she did not look back.
Her legs barely felt like her own as she stumbled down the stairs, gripping the banister so hard her knuckles paled.
Her heart pounded louder than her footsteps.
It felt like hours, though it was only seconds before she burst out the mansion's back door as it was closer to the training ground than the main entrance.
"Please, no… no no no…"
Her slippers slipped on the frost as she half-ran and half-staggered across the yard.
The grass crunched beneath her feet, but she did not give it a care. Her skirt snagged on a thorny bush, but she tore it free without stopping.
And finally, she dropped to her knees beside him.
"Y-Young…"
She reached out with trembling hands but did not touch his body. Fear kept her from touching him—
Fear of what she would feel.
"Young L-L-Lord…"
Finally, her trembling hands gripped his shoulders and turned him over gently. She cradled his head in her lap and brushed a blood-soaked strand of hair from his face.
Her gaze fell to the gaping hole in his chest where his heart should have been.
"N-No… No… N—"
Her hands pressed against the wound as she tried to heal it with her magic but nothing happened as blood only seeped through her fingers and stained her hands red.
Tears streamed down her face and her cries grew louder.
"...W-Why?! Y-You…"
She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his bloodied one.
"...Y-You promised to be with me forever."
But Seven's body remained lifeless. Her shoulders sagged and her sobs quieted onto shaky breaths.
Thump!
A soft sound of a heartbeat echoed. She turned around and spotted a heart near the cracked wall, and thus she looked unto Seven's body as if she was confirming it belonged to him.
Her breath hitched.
Slowly, she lowered Seven's body, stood up, and walked toward the faintly glowing heart.
Step.
Her fingers brushed against its warm surface as she cupped it in her hands whilst cradling it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
Step.
Returning back to Seven, she knelt beside him and placed the heart against his chest and attempted to align the heart with the torn flesh.
Cra— Crackle!
As her fingers made contact, a magic circle flickered into existence beneath her palms and casted a green warm, verdant glow.
Crackle!
Cra—
Iria remained like that as her complexion gradually paled from maintaining the healing for an hour now.
The flesh started to heal, as if Seven's body accepted the heart once again and was helping Iria to place it back to its original position.
Cough!
Iria coughed up blood, but she ignored it.
If it meant that she could heal him and bring him back to the living, that much suffering could be ignored.
In all honesty, even though Iria already knows she cannot bring a dead person back to life, she still continued.
After all, it was the only remaining way for her to spend her time with him.
"I'll stay with you…"
She whispered.
"...Forever."