I was still trying to put all the pieces together until I remembered that we had been captured again and were now back. Suddenly, I heard Oliver cry out, "It hurts!" I was engulfed in fear. What was happening to him?
Before I could process it, the mad mage from before came to me again. I looked at him with fear in my eyes, praying he wouldn't turn his cruel intentions toward me again. He grinned. "You're one weird kid. The demon blood assimilated almost perfectly with you; that makes you one of a kind."
His voice dripped with malevolence. "Now comes the fun fact," he leaned closer, his breath hot on my face. "Aren't you curious? Go on, ask me."
I asked nervously, "What will happen to me?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked," he cackled. "We're going to erase your memories and feed you a worm that will make you obey us for the rest of your life. The process is so painful it would make your skin crawl."
Despair washed over me. Was this how my life would end? Condemned to obey these monsters? I refused to believe it. I wouldn't go quietly.
I yelled, "Let go of me! I will make you pay for what you're doing to me! Just you wait. I will make all of you rue this day!"
The mad mage burst into laughter, dismissing my words. "Your efforts are futile! It's all meaningless. What could a back alley degenerate little rat like you do?" His amusement only fueled my anger, but I needed to find a way out of this.
"Alright, let's begin the process," he commanded the other masked men. I cried out, **"Let go of me! Let go of me!"** I struggled, feeling stronger than before, but it wasn't enough. The mad mage took the worm and brought it close, forcing it toward me. A wave of nausea hit me, and I was almost foaming at the mouth, choking on my terror.
He started reciting a spell, and I saw the black tendrils slithering closer, entering my mind. Pain exploded in my head, and memories began to slip away. Was it truly meaningless? Tears filled my eyes as I thought about my father and mother. I tried to hold on to their faces, their voices, but with each passing moment, they became fainter and fainter.
And then a powerful memory surged through me, cutting like a knife through the darkness.
**Father:**
*Vaden, it's time to face a harsher truth about the world—one that you need to understand as you grow up. This world can be brutal. It often rewards those who are ruthless, while the kindhearted struggle to find their footing. Not everyone has your best interests in mind. Some will lie, manipulate, and exploit without a second thought.
There will be times when you feel pushed to your limits, moments when the odds seem stacked against you. You will face rejection, betrayal, and loss. Trust me when I say that resilience is paramount here. You need to toughen up, because the world won't hold your hand.
Remember, pain is a part of existence. Accept it. Use it as fuel to grow stronger, to learn how to navigate this harsh landscape. It's a truth that many will avoid, but facing it head-on will prepare you for the road ahead. Don't let others dictate your worth; define it for yourself, even amidst the chaos.
You'll be tested, and when you are, you'll discover just how resilient you can be. Be prepared for that fight, because if you want to survive in this world, you'll need to stand your ground and be ready to face whatever comes your way.
His words echoed in my mind, overwhelming the encroaching tendrils. **No! I will not let you take these memories from me!**
I felt my heart race as the fire within me reignited. **I will not be your pawn!** I summoned every ounce of strength, pushing against the pain and chaos that threatened to consume me.
I felt it—a surge of energy coursing through my body, chaotic and fierce, as I screamed, **"You will not get away with this! I refuse to be broken!"**
In a moment of clarity, I felt the tide beginning to shift. The chaotic energy resonated with my defiance, and I embraced it. With a primal roar, I unleashed that energy, pushing back against the dark tendrils invading my mind.
"**I will survive!**" I, and the chaotic energy surged within me, controlling the tendrils entering inside my head. The tendrils recoiled, and I could feel my body accepting energy and negating the effects at the same time, the power of my resolve crashing against their expectations.
The mad mage suddenly felt a sting in his fingers, a sharp sensation that caught him off guard. Startled, he glanced down but couldn't determine what had happened. Blood trickled from a small cut, but he shrugged it off, dismissing it as inconsequential.
Meanwhile, exhaustion weighed heavily on me. I struggled against the urge to succumb, but eventually, my vision blurred, and I fell into a deep sleep.
When I awoke, I found myself free from the shackles that had bound me. A sense of shock washed over me as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. I felt different—stronger, somehow. My memories were no longer disjointed; they were vivid and sharp, flooding my mind with a clarity I hadn't felt before. It was as if every moment of my life had come into focus, from my first steps to the laughter shared with loved ones.
I recalled the day I had played with my father's book, his handwritten notes filled with strange symbols. One memory floated to the surface—the sight of my father's concentrated expression as he scribbled something in his notes. It was written in a language I couldn't read, a cryptic puzzle that nagged at the edge of my thoughts.
Questions surged within me: **Who was my father really? Where did he go? Why was my mother killed?** The pain of these unresolved questions throbbed in my chest, but before I could delve deeper into despair, I was jolted back to the present.
A masked man approached, his presence dark and imposing. **Stay calm,** I told myself, taking a steadying breath. I needed to assess my situation. I sat upright, exuding a calm facade, pretending to be curious even as fear flickered beneath the surface.
The man regarded me with an air of authority. "You're probably wondering where you are, who you are, and what is going on," he said, his voice clipped and cold. "Your name is Alric, and you are training to be a Shadow Knight for House Drakthar."
**Alric.** The name felt strange, foreign, yet somehow familiar, as if it were a piece of a puzzle I had yet to understand. My heart raced as I processed the implications. A Shadow Knight? A title that suggested power, darkness, and a path that could lead me to great things.
"House Draktharr?" I echoed, feigning curiosity, probing for more. "What does that mean?"
"The Draktharrs are a powerful lineage, and you will be trained to serve that lineage," he replied, his tone firm and unyielding. "But make no mistake: you have a lot to learn, and the training will begin in earnest tomorrow."
"Training?" I asked, my curiosity mingling with anxiety. "What do I need to learn?"
"You will learn to be formidable, to harness your potential," he said, crossing his arms as if assessing my resolve. "But for now, you are a novice. The path ahead is demanding, and you will need to adapt quickly."
A mix of apprehension and dread settled in my stomach. I felt the weight of expectation resting heavily on my shoulders. The thought of being capable of great things was both exhilarating and terrifying, and what would happen if I failed?
"Tonight, you'll be housed with the others in the same room," he continued, maintaining his stern demeanor. "They're also recruits for the Shadow Knights. Each of you will need to learn from one another, but I warn you: trust is a rarity in this place."
"Others?" I echoed, a knot forming in my throat. "I'm not alone?"
The man's gaze was unflinching. "Not at all. You'll find that allies can help strengthen your resolve, but they can also become your fiercest rivals. Keep your wits about you at all times."
As he gestured for me to follow, I recognized the magnitude of my situation. I was part of something larger, and I needed to navigate the complex dynamics of this new reality.
"Let's get you settled in," he said, leading me through the dimly lit corridors of House Drakthar, where shadows danced on the walls. The questions about my past, my family, and the challenges ahead remained, but I felt a tightening sense of apprehension.
When we reached a door at the end of a long hallway, the masked man pushed it open. Inside, the room was sparse yet functional, with beds lining the walls and a few other young recruits already settling in.
"This is your new home for now," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. "Get acquainted with your peers. Tomorrow, you will begin your training."
As I entered the room, my heart pounded with anxiety