Ronan slumped against the wall, feeling the rough stone scrape his back as he slid down to a seated position. He couldn't bear to go home, not yet. Facing that empty house, his sister's mournful eyes, the harsh reality of his mother's passing - it was too much too soon.
"Why, why, why did she die?" he choked out, slamming his fist against the wall in anguished frustration. Hot tears stung his eyes as the injustice of it all threatened to swallow him whole.
All his life, his mother had been the warm, steady center that kept their small family intact through hardship and strife. With his father gone before Ronan could remember, she was their rock, their unwavering beam of love and support. And now she was just...gone. Taken from them far too soon by a cruel fever.
Visions of her smiling face, her calloused hands forever busy with chores or crafting, her soft voice offering gentle encouragement or mild scolding flashed through Ronan's mind. He doubled over, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs as he mourned her loss in heaving breaths.
How could he go back and face that empty house without her comforting presence to greet him? How could he look his little sister Eris in the eye when he had abandoned them to play soldier, only to return with their remaining parents ripped away?
The guilt and grief formed a leaden weight in the pit of his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous. Ronan raked his good hand through his unkempt curly hair, pulling at the roots so the physical pain could ground him.
"I wasn't there..." he whispered hoarsely to no one. "I left her behind, like a fool, and now she's gone forever."
Despair quickly curdled into red-hot anger and he lashed out, kicking the wall hard enough to send shockwaves of pain up his leg. But he didn't care. This burning, howling, bitterly anguished side of him welcomed the distraction from his inner torment.
"Why her? Why my mother?" he shouted at the uncaring stone, feeling his throat grow raw but unable to stop the onslaught of emotion. "Take me instead, you callous gods! Spare an innocent woman and take this pathetic wretch of a son who failed her in the end!"
His chest heaved with each ragged breath as hot tears continued tracing rivers down his cheeks, dripping from his chin to splash against the ground. At that moment, coming home felt like an unbearable sentence. Ronan wasn't sure he was strong enough yet to soberly face the consequences of his choices.
So instead, he surrendered to his anguish and grief, pouring out his sorrow against the unyielding wall as if it could somehow absorb and relieve his unbearable heartache.
Ronan pounded his fists against the unyielding stone wall until his knuckles were raw and bloodied, punch after punch unleashing the torrent of anguish and rage burning within him. He paid no heed to the stinging pain, nor to the darkening bruises blooming across his battered hands.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon, the alleyway was plunged into a gloomy shadow, but still Ronan remained slumped there. His breaths came in ragged gasps, echoing off the narrow walls that had borne the brunt of his outburst. Tear tracks striped his dirt-streaked face, mingling with trails of sweat and even specs of blood from where his knuckles had split open.
Utterly spent, he tilted his head back to rest against the cold stone, eyes slipping shut as wave after wave of emotional fatigue washed over him. The deafening roar of anger and heartache had quieted to a dull, hollow ache in his chest - the kind of soul-deep weariness that sits heavy in your bones.
How long he stayed like that, Ronan couldn't say. Time seemed to hold no meaning anymore as he drifted in that numb, grief-stricken trance. He was vaguely aware of the darkening sky gradually giving way to nightfall, the alley disappearing into inky blackness around him.
A part of him thought he should find his way to an inn or even go home before the gates closed for the night. But the larger part, the part hollowed out by raw anguish, couldn't summon the energy to move from this place of mourning. Perhaps if he just stayed here, curled up and unmoving, the world would forget about him too. Then he wouldn't have to endure facing that empty house, those pitying eyes, that constant reminder of what - of who - he had lost.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Ronan's steps slowed as he approached the familiar door of his childhood home, a gnawing sense of unease prickling at the back of his neck. The typical sounds of a bustling household were conspicuously absent - no clattering of pots, no laughter or shouts from playing children. Only an eerie silence blanketed the homestead.
He strained his ears, certain he could make out muffled voices drifting from somewhere within. Ronan's grip tightened on the strap of his travel pack as dread coiled in his gut. What awaited him on the other side of that door? His imagination began conjuring all manner of grim possibilities.
Had word of his mother's passing brought vultures seeking to prey on the bereaved? Or did the unnatural hush portend something far more sinister laying in wait? Ronan chastised himself for such fanciful thoughts, but could not ignore the age-old instincts screaming danger.
Stealing his resolve, he crept up to the door and pressed his ear against the weathered wood, desperate to make out the muffled voices. To his horror, he could discern his sister Eris's tremulous tones, stuttering out pleas between ragged sobs of distress.
"P-please, I'll do anything you ask! Just d-don't hurt us!"
A gruff, unfamiliar male voice rumbled in response, laced with dark amusement. "Oh, but I rather think you'll be the one doing the hurting, girlie. Not me."
The sound of a vicious backhand slicing through the air made Ronan's blood run cold. Eris cried out, her sobs intensifying as the cruel voice hissed threateningly once more.
"Now be a good little thing and fetch your useless brother. We've got unfinished business with the two of you."
Without a second's hesitation, Ronan drew his knife and tried the door, praying to the gods it wouldn't be barred from the inside. Mercifully, it swung open with a low creak...and the horrific scene unfolding before him made his stomach lurch.
In the center of the living room a man was restraining Eris; he was a grotesque sight to behold. His sallow gray skin seemed to cling unnaturally tight to the bones of his face, forming deep crevices and sunken contours that made his features look skull-like and hollow.
Stringy tufts of greasy black hair hung lank around his gaunt cheeks, doing little to obscure the pockmarked terrain of scars and old wounds that crisscrossed his skin. One particularly nasty gash carved through his right eyebrow, the puckered flesh forever freezing that side of his face into a permanent sneer.
But it was his mouth that was truly revolting. His thick lips were dry and cracked, continually licking at them with a tar-stained tongue as if desperate for even the barest hint of moisture. And his teeth - those horrific, decaying stubs of brown and yellow - seemed to jut out at all angles in a shocking display of grotesque negligence.
The few remaining incisors pointed inward like fangs, stained and serrated from what was undoubtedly years of neglect and abuse. Flecks of spittle and debris speckled the corners of that twisted maw, strands of saliva stretching obscenely with each vile word that slithered out from between his gnashing teeth.
The stench wafting from the man's foul alcove of a mouth blended seamlessly with the general reek that clung to his unwashed body - a noxious melange of sour sweat, stale piss, and the unmistakable copper tinge of old blood. Even from across the room, Ronan could feel his nostrils stinging and stomach roiling in revolt against the overpowering stench.
Eris whimpered piteously as the beast's rank exhalations washed over her, no doubt burning her eyes and throat. Her delicate features were contorted in a rictus of fear and disgust, struggling weakly against the arm crushing her windpipe as this vile, rotting excuse for a human being leered hungrily down at her.
To see his beloved baby sister, who had always exuded an aura of bright innocence and joy, being so brutally debased by this wretched monster's very presence...something primal and furious bubbled forth from the darkest recesses of Ronan's psyche. His grip tightened on the knife until his knuckles shone bone-white, barely restraining the urge to hurl himself forward and bury the blade in that twisted leer over and over until nothing remained but a pulpy, unrecognizable ruin.
There were two other men who could only be the brute's cohorts lounged nearby, sadistic grins playing across their features, all too pleased with the show of domination over the defenseless girl. Their eyes glittered with wicked intent, taking an almost perverse glee in Eris's whimpers of fear and pain.
At the sound of Ronan's entrance, the beast whipped his head around with a cruel sneer. "Ah, look who's finally graced us with his presence! The errant son returns home to his widdle sister."
Eris made a choked sound of panic at the sight of her brother. "R-Ronan, no! Run, they're here for -"
The words were abruptly cut off as the brigand shook her roughly, then yanked her in tight against his chest, one beefy forearm constricting around her slender neck.
"Hush now," he growled, foul breath ghosting across her ear. "Wouldn't want your pretty mouth making things worse for you and your big bro, eh?"
His dead eyes bored into Ronan's, daring him to make a move as he held the terrified girl as his own personal human shield. Sensing he finally had Ronan's full, undivided attention, the smug grin widened back into that repulsive sneer.
"So good to see you...Brethren."
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU"! Ronan yelled at the intruders.
"Where your new family we'll serve the same cause, the same god". The gray man spoke up for the group. "Our lord needs you and he comes with gifts".
Ronan stared at him like he was an alien to him. This man was talking absolute gibberish and he made it known that's what he thought.
Ronan's grip tightened on his knife as the gray-skinned man's words washed over him. A new family? Serving some dark god? His mind reeled at the utter insanity spewing from the intruder's vile mouth.
"You're mad," Ronan spat, eyes flickering between the leering men. "Let my sister go at once if you value your miserable lives."
The gaunt man threw back his head and laughed, a sound like nails on a chalkboard. "Such fire! But I'm afraid you're in no position to make demands, boy."
He gave Eris a rough shake, eliciting a pained whimper. Ronan felt his blood boil at the pitiful sound. If they harmed one hair on her head...
"We've come to collect a debt owed to our master," the cadaverous figure continued. "By birth, your soul belongs in his service. Resist, and your precious sister pays the price for your defiance."
Ronan opened his mouth to issue another threat, but the icy point of a blade at his back stilled his words. One of the accomplices had circled behind him, dagger leveled at his spine with a sinister chuckle.
"I'd listen to Kravos if I were you. The master's generosity has limits."
Trapped, Ronan's mind raced. He had to find a way to placate these madmen until he could create an opening to escape with Eris. Playing along may be their only chance.
"Very well," he said through gritted teeth. "Explain what your 'master' wants from me. But harm my sister further, and I'll make sure your agony lasts for days before the end."
The one called Kravos seemed to consider this, his lipless grin stretching wide to reveal blackened teeth. "We shall see, whelp..."
Kravos clapped his hands and smiled at Ronan"All you need to do is step in the circle and say what i say. If I like your performance then i'll consider letting your sister live". His eyes held a mirth that was bereft from Ronan.
Ronan solemnly accepted his fate; he knew he was in a tough bind. Forced to save his sister he complied with the madman's demand.
The complex ritual circle adorned the floor, its intricate symbols pulsating with an otherworldly glow. Two of the assailants stood within smaller circles branching out from the main one, their eyes locked on Ronan with a mix of anticipation and malicious intent.
"Step into the circle now"! Kravos held eris barked out. Ronan stood in the center of the ritual circle, his heart heavy with grief and anger. The two assailants lay lifeless in the smaller circles, their blood seeping into the intricate symbols etched into the floor.
The man with Eris stood at the edge of the circle, a cruel smirk playing across his face as he raised his arms and began to chant. The words were laced with an arcane power that seeped through the air like a dark fog, filling the room with an oppressive energy.
As the chanting reached its peak, a surge of energy crackled through the room, causing it to shimmer with an otherworldly glow. Ronan watched in horror as those within the circle plunged blades into their chests; then felt a fire ignite inside himself, as if three souls were merging together. He fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the influx of dark energy that threatened to corrupt and consume him.
The man's chanting grew louder and more frenzied with each passing moment, his voice now distorted and filled with pleasure. Ronan could feel the malevolence emanating from him, threatening his very existence. Suddenly, he was kicked in the chest and forced back up; staring into the cold red eyes of his captor as he heard the chilling ultimatum: "You will swear it if you don't want your Sister dead".
"I commit my soul to chaos". Ronan stared up at the man incredulously and a little shaken and when he didn't say it quick enough the man tighten his hold and eris started choking on what appeared to be nothing. Shouting out the words with a quicken haste to them he repeated what was said.
"From this day forth i will be the obedient servant of Vorlash and may not even death will release me"
"From this day forth I will be the obedient servant of Vorlash and may not even death will release me". "Oh gods please help me". Ronan's world was falling apart but the situation he found himself in was really kicked into him with the next words the unknown assailant said next.
"Only one god can help you now". The man assured him as the man straightened through the sobbing tears that started forming after the vow Ronan heard walking footsteps and the next thing broke his heart into more pieces. "I'll be taking your Sister back with me".
The man informed him "someday I will call for you and you will come. The man, like smoke, swirled in darkness with the bodies and his Sister.