The tension permeating the room, combined with Stephen's helplessness, filled the atmosphere with unease. The command "Don't resist, give it here!" seemed to press down on the atmosphere. Stephen could feel his heartbeat accelerating with each passing second. It felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest.
"I swear on the lives of all my loved ones that I don't know where the sword is," Stephen pleaded.
Despite Stephen's oath, the guards still seemed skeptical. He thought he had clearly stated that he didn't know where the sword was. But his defense only left some of the guards uncertain.
"You were the last one with the sword. Why did you touch it?" This question, followed by the howl of a wolf, further intensified the mystery and uncertainty in the forest.
"I don't know either. It's like I was possessed," Stephen explained, expressing the strange sensation he felt, arousing curiosity that there was something more to the events. A brief silence ensued. The guards pondered over the situation. However, one of them suddenly grabbed Stephen by the collar, lifting him up, then releasing him, breaking the silence in the forest.
Amidst the bewildered gazes of the guards, another guard asked, "Why isn't this kid running away?"
Stephen, breathing rapidly, was contemplating a way to escape and was in an internal conflict. As if the other guards weren't enough, more were coming after him. "I'm just an 18-year-old kid. Why do I need so many guards after me?" This situation escalated the tension even further. He tried to take a step backward, but couldn't. It was as if his feet were glued to the ground.
"You can't run anywhere without our permission!"
Then he felt a magical energy surge. "I guess they've cast a spell on me," he thought. In his world shaken by this magical energy, freeing his arm from the grip of the guards, who were forcefully squeezing it, felt like solving a spell difficulty. He forcibly opened his hand, which was still clenched into a fist. A glowing ring lay in the palm of his hand, serving as a bearer of great mystery. The ring's band was identical to the one on the sword, and the stone in the ring was exactly the same as the one in the Justice Sword.
"Could this ring be that sword?" a guard echoed, and the words echoed through the forest, followed by his skeptical gaze, which was then followed by the others. "It looks just like the stone in that sword," he added.
What they said made sense to some and seemed nonsensical to others. "But it's an inanimate object. How can it change shape without anyone else's intervention?"
"This is the Magical World. Anything can happen here."
The one who asked the question decided not to question further. Then another guard reached out towards the ring. When the ring recoiled slightly, the eyes of the guards were lost in bewilderment, like a traveler chasing a vanished legend. "Is this ring alive? It's as if a soul has entered it," one guard asked, with a lingering unease. "The Justice Sword is a magical and powerful item. It should be normal for such things to happen," another guard said, trying to accept the situation and calm himself down. The guard tried again for a second time, but this time the ring had vanished. He drew his sword from its scabbard and pressed it against Stephen's throat.
"Where did you teleport the sword?"
Facing the threat of the sword, Stephen struggled with cold sweat brought on by fear. He could barely open his mouth and his voice trembled, "I can't do magic," he said. With his words, he could only display a helpless resistance.
"Do you expect us to believe that?"
Stephen, now unsure of what to say, accepted the situation and lowered his head in shame and helplessness. He chose to remain silent.
"It seems he's adamant about not giving up the sword. Let's take him to the palace and torture him. Maybe then he'll give it up."
He knelt before them and pleaded, "I beg of you. Please don't. How many times do I need to swear?" He wanted to die painlessly, even if he had to die. Stephen's pleading voice, kneeling before them, was lost in the shadow of an inevitable fate.
"Your swearing doesn't change anything. We need the sword. If our King finds out we lost the sword, he'll have all our heads."
He had accepted the situation, but he was about to lose his life, so courage came to him. "I'm going to die anyway. Maybe I should try my luck one last time and run away."
Although exhausted from what had happened, he managed to punch the guard's arm with his other arm, and the guard writhed in pain, but it was only temporary. He used that fleeting moment of distraction to start running again and gradually moved away from there, but they were too fast. They probably would use teleportation again, given their magical abilities. As he ran, his eyes fell on the ring in his hand. Perhaps this ring could provide him with an unexpected advantage. But could I use it?
The echoing howls of wolves from the depths of the forest made the atmosphere tense and gloomy. He looked up at the sky. It was a full moon tonight. The werewolves must have been even stronger. When he turned around, there was no sign of the guards.
"Maybe they were trying to deceive me. I should keep running," he thought. He was now out of breath. He stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and continued on his way. There was truly no trace of the guards. This time, he could rest a bit.
He sat on a rock and caught his breath. Although the distant howling continued, it no longer frightened him. Resting for this long was enough. He got up and headed back home. He didn't know what to say to his father. He tried not to care about it. Right now, all he could think about was his rumbling stomach and the food waiting for him at home.
As he went on slowly, he heard a sound from behind; a growling-like sound.
"Oh, crap."
Throughout the day, Stephen had been under the grip of a fate that seemed to force him into misfortune. As he ran hastily, the ring on his finger unexpectedly transformed into a protective sword in his hand. Although he didn't have the skill to use a sword, his defensive reflexes kicked in, and he decided to use it. There's no need to use it now. I haven't encountered any werewolves yet.
He wanted to blink once and found himself in front of his house as soon as he opened his eyes. The sword in his hand had turned back into a ring again. He put the ring into his pocket.
He opened the door and went inside. His father immediately came to him as soon as he saw him.
"Where have you been, my son?"
"I was coming from the fields, but werewolves were chasing me, father."
"Nothing happened to you, did it? Did the werewolves bite you?" he asked with concern, examining his son. "No, I managed to escape from them." He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he heard this. "Thank goodness."
When Stephen sat down on the chair, the meals had already been served. He quickly finished his meal and wanted to go to his bed, but this time his father stopped him.
"There is something important I need to explain to you."
"What is it, father?"
Jason went upstairs and came back very quickly. He had a letter in his hand. "Your mother wrote this three days before she died. She wanted you to read it when you turned 18. I've always kept it hidden from you. It's time for you to receive your mother's will."
With empty eyes, Stephen took the letter from Jason and began to read, accompanied by an incomprehensible moment when a mysterious wave rose in his heart.
My son, I've wanted to tell you this for years, but I always held back. I would always start writing this letter but then stop myself. You were so young. I thought maybe it's best not to tell you. But now the time has come. You've grown up into a young man.
When I married your father, I always wanted us to have a child, but no matter what we did, it didn't happen. Your grandmother was pressuring me more and more, telling your father that he should divorce me. I started pretending to be pregnant, and one day there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, I saw a friend of mine. She was entrusting you to me. I accepted gladly. And I told everyone that I had given birth to you. Even though you weren't my biological child, Stephen, I loved you as if you were my own son. Even after our biological daughter Annabel was born, I didn't stop caring for you. I was happy, but my friend wanted to disrupt that happiness. She wanted to take you away when you turned 10. I couldn't allow that. Your father and I ran away together, but years later, I regretted what I had done. I had separated a child from their real parents. I thought it was your right to know who your real parents were.
Stephen felt like the world had spun around him for a moment as he took the letter. This sacred document held some kind of mystery within it, and even though Stephen had read most of the letter, he still examined the paper with trembling hands.
As he opened the letter, he traced the memories hidden in his mother's handwriting. Every word was building a world of its own. As he wandered through the lines, he felt a gentle wave of emotion pounding in his chest. This letter was bringing back his mother's voice, her love, and the beautiful moments she had once lived.
But what he read in the letter didn't surprise Stephen. He had already grown up believing he was adopted since he was 12. The letter showed how deeply an emotional bond can leave its mark on a child's heart. Its content revealed a past that didn't belong to him but was wrapped in his mother's love and care. As Stephen glanced over the words, his eyes brimming with his mother's love merged with the words in the letter.
Go to Astera, Stephen. Go to the area near the palace. And never forget your birthmark. It will be very important for you.
With love, your mother.
As he released the letter, a tear rolled down his cheek, marking the traces of an emotional moment on his face. As he smelled the paper, he felt as if he were inhaling his mother's beautiful scent. He was filled with happiness; feeling his mother's warmth, love, and affection revived a long-awaited connection. But alongside this happiness, a complex wave of emotions was also reigning within him.
"Are you going to Astera?" his father asked with a concerned expression, pulling him out of his dreamy and nostalgic world of emotions.
"I think so, yes," he replied.
"You have no knowledge about magic. I can come with you if you want. You can't defend yourself."
"There's no need for that, Dad. I think I'll be fine if I don't interact with anyone."
"I should come with you, and maybe your sister Annabel too."
"No, Dad. I really don't want that. Please, don't tire yourselves. I'll go alone."
"It seems like one of those rare moments when you're determined. I guess I won't be able to change your mind."
"Yes, Dad. My decision won't change."
"Why don't you want us to come with you?"
"I heard that crimes have increased in Astera recently. I don't want to risk you."
"Then let me help you. I've saved some money, anticipating this day."
He intended to combine the money he received with his own savings, but then he remembered leaving his sister alone.
"Please give most of this money to my sister. I have my own savings, Dad."
"I sometimes give money to Annabel."
"Mrs. Catherine always took that money from her and used it for herself. She's really not a good person, Dad. I'm worried about leaving her alone with such a woman. Please, take care of her."
Jason was momentarily stunned by this confession. He didn't want to believe the information again, but then he realized it would be pointless for his son to lie now. He still didn't want to believe it, but this time he would be more cautious around Catherine. He followed Stephen's request and gave most of the money to his daughter.
She took the money and thanked him. He bid farewell to his father. As he said goodbye to his son, Jason felt that the journey to Astera was a turning point for Stephen. He went to his room and perhaps saw his sister for the last time. Feeling the weight of parting with his sister, Stephen hurried to his room to avoid seeing his stepmother. Perhaps he would embark on a long journey tomorrow. He needed a good night's sleep.