Chapter 4
I never imagined the underworld would have a marketplace. Well, it did.
Shadows hung around every corners and twisted into weird shapes.
No food. No vendors . This place was just skeletons of shops and broken wooden boxes.
I'd expected lots of chatter around the place but only few talked . Competitors were scattered across this space most looking dejected and solemn.
No surprise there. Just like me, many of them had watched others fail their tasks and some of them even barely passed. I'm certain some saw their points.
I sighed. Clenching the sword in my hands like I was used to it, I scanned others, trying to see if they have swords too. Some had cross bows and arrows. Some daggers. Wonder what that guy won. My mind went back to the guy who laughed at me—the one with grey eyes.
I found a time-worn pillar and rested my back. Could've helped. I was so sure that was what that goody two shoes was about to say. I scoffed.
He had absolutely no right to judge me for my action. If he was so perfect he would have forfeited his win and helped both the guy and girl begging me earlier. Yes, he tried to help but he didn't. So why judge me?
Survival was the only game worth playing, and I had always been the best at it.
But his criticism stuck in my head. Why? Why couldn't I just brush it off like I usually did?
Get over it. I clenched my fists, willing myself to snap out of it. People failed this task which meant they'd suffer the consequences . The underworld had no patience for second-guessing. So that guy didn't matter.
This was a competition. "I'm still in control."
I do whatever I want!
My eyes moved between the other competitors as I walked through the shadowing marketplace. Most of them kept to themselves. Some paced anxiously while some just sat down.
I kept a straight face but my stomach had formed in knot just from seeing how nervous the rest looked.
Stay in control.
That was when I saw them. The man who screamed at me—the blonde one—for shoving him on the queue. He was talking to grey eyes. They looked serious.
I watched them for a moment, scowling. The blonde one had that same fierce energy about him—the kind that screamed passionate and smart. He gestured quickly as they talked. I was certain he was the type that kept his head in the game until he got what he wanted.
Focused on winning.
Just seeing them made me feel competitive again. Like the rivalry between us was still there even though we had a brief issue. I hadn't thought much about them since the first test. As they chatted and seemed to be coming up with a plan a feeling of annoyance started to grow deep inside me again. I grimaced.
Grey eyes stood still listening carefully. He nodded a little while the other guy—the blonde one, kept on talking. He didn't interrupt, didn't react. Just... watched.
They're both so sure of themselves, I thought bitterly, the knot of frustration tightening in my chest. But they'll see. They'll see soon enough that I'm not someone to underestimate.
I didn't hesitate. I walked confidently towards them as my boots made a crunching sound on the bumpy stones with each quick steps I took. I was still feeling angry from arguing with grey eyes.
The blonde guy only added to the intensity of my emotions.
"Well, look at this," I said, my voice sharp. "The two of you seem to be getting along. Plotting your next saintly move, I assume?"
The blonde one hardly looked at me as he was still paying attention to grey eyes. But I wasn't here for him. I was here to throw my decision back in the grey eyes' face.
I turned to him, my eyes locking onto his. "I don't regret what I did," I said, my tone cutting. "Not even for a second. I chose myself, because that's what this is—a competition. You do whatever it takes to survive. To win."
Grey eye's gaze shifted to me.
"You think helping people is going to get you far?" I continued, crossing my arms. "You probably lost points for trying to play the saint. But, I'm certain your conscience is crystal clear, right?"
I expected a reaction. Something. A flash of anger, maybe, or at least a sign that my words had hit their mark. He just... shrugged.
"I'm okay with losing points," he said evenly, his voice steady. "If it means I stay true to myself."
That simple reply hit me more than any insult could have. I wanted to retaliate but I couldn't speak.
I threw back my head and laughed. "Oh, I get it," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're just much better than us."
He didn't flinch. He just met my gaze. "No," he said. "I don't think I'm better. I just know what I'm willing to do—and what I'm not."
I wanted to argue against his silly moral beliefs but the way he said it... It stuck.
The blonde one who had been silent when I showed up finally spoke. "Let's be real...," he said, his voice rough but practical, "It's all about what you can stomach, you know? We all gotta make choices in this crazy place. You picked your path, he picked his. At the end of the day, the only one who's gonna feel the heat is you."
I turned my head toward him. "Did you help anyone?"
The blonde one raised an eyebrow. "I did my thing," he said. "That's it, plain and simple."
"Whatever," I muttered, shaking my head. "I'm here to win. And I'll do it however I need to."
I quickly walked away without waiting for a reply feeling my heart beating fast. I don't care what they think. As I walked alone in the dark marketplace filled with people and a spooky quietness closing in on me I couldn't help but feel the heaviness of what he said.
What I'm willing to live with?
I ignored the thought and concentrated on the competition and strategy instead. I passed the first test and made it through and I will make it through the next challenge. That's all that mattered.
No matter how hard I tried to forget about grey eyes and the practical words of the blonde one kept replaying in my head making it impossible to ignore.
I ran my fingers along the edge of the pillar I had stopped in front of, feeling the chilly air against my skin. Suddenly I sensed something... someone standing so close to me. I turned quickly.
The blonde one was standing a little bit behind me, staring at me waiting and maybe even thinking carefully. But it wasn't awkward.
"You've got a point," he said suddenly, cutting through the thick silence. His voice was rough. "In this crazy place, looking out for number one ain't just an option, it's the law. You gotta do what you gotta do to survive, or you're toast."
I jammed my hands in my pockets.
"So, Blondie agrees with me," I said, the sarcasm slipping out before I could stop it. A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as I fully faced him. "I guess miracles do happen down here."
He frowned his eyes becoming smaller. The silence went on a bit. But then he just crossed his arms over his chest and looked me up and down as if he was sizing me for the hundredth time.
"Don't call me that," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous, "or you gonna be sorry."
I shrugged, still smirking, but something in the way he stood—his strong posture, the sharpness in his eyes—made me hold my tongue. I wasn't about to push my luck. We both felt a small amount of respect for each other even though we didn't want to admit it.
It was like a hidden feeling that we both knew was there.
He wasn't wrong, after all. In a place like this, helping others could get you killed. Surviving wasn't about being good or bad; it was about being smart making difficult decisions and not backing down when things got tough. I could appreciate that even if I hated him.
"I'm Ben."
"Lara," I said back and watched as he turned his attention back to the marketplace, watching the scene with a calculating gaze.
The marketplace itself felt like it was holding its breath. Every now and then quiet voices could be heard as the competitors gathered in corners speaking quickly and nervously. Alliances were forming. People were already trying to secure their next move, their next advantage.
I just watched. I look around at different groups of people making a mental note of who was with whom and trying to figure out their relationships. It was just a part of the game. Everyone was figuring out the next advantage they could gain.
No one was trustworthy. I had already understood that from the age of 21. I choked down the college memory of a sorority sister, no my ex best friend. Now's not the time.
I caught a few stray glances in my direction—furtive, cautious. Some competitors eyed me with thinly as if I was a villain, others with open contempt.
It didn't bother me. If anything, it was a good sign. They knew I was a threat. They should be scared.
"...that's a plus," one voice said.
There was a quiet conversation, just by the nearest row of stalls. The voices sounded serious. I couldn't make out everything, but I heard enough to know they were talking about something important. I moved further into the shadows without thinking, walking quietly. I had no problem with eavesdropping. In a place this, getting the right information was very important for staying alive.
"...soul fragments," one of them said. The words came out like a hiss, sharp and secretive.
I stopped breathing for a moment and stayed completely still as my senses were becoming more alert. Soul fragments? What the hell were they talking about?
"There's no guarantee they'll help you," another person spoke up sounding more careful and unsure. "Heard it's pieces of ourselves buried around places in this place. It might or might not boost your rank. If it does... that's how some of the higher-ups are staying ahead. They've already started collecting theirs."
My heart pounded in my chest. Soul fragments... spread out in the land of the dead... pieces of ourselves, lost in this twisted game. And if you found them... you could rise through the ranks. You could gain more power.
That changes everything.
This was a secret rule in the contest, something they hadn't told us about. Of course, they wouldn't. If this was true and finding my soul fragments could help me—I needed to act."
"How many have you found?" the first voice asked.
"Two," the other replied. "Got mine at the Veilwood Hollow. It's all guesswork. I don't even know how many there are in other places."
Two. That wasn't many. But it was enough to give someone an advantage, enough to change the outcome of a test. Enough to shift the balance of power.
"Heard there'd be tests to get your hands on one," another said. "Enough obstacle to kill the soul."
Tests? What kind?
"The scariest part I heard is the soul eaters. They looked like smoke... they can blend easily with fogs but their eyes always glow."
The competitors quietly talked about their next steps before blending into the crowd. I didn't need to follow. My mind was already spinning, every thought ringing about the same goal: I had to find my own soul fragments. I had to.
I straightened. Veil-wood Hollow.
I had what I needed for now.