Chereads / Setta of the Stygian Furnace / Chapter 8 - Chapter 8: His story I (Deluxe chapter)

Chapter 8 - Chapter 8: His story I (Deluxe chapter)

Ink rushed to the counter, rummaging through the files until she found Varo's folder. Her eyes lit up with as she flipped it open. Inside, there was a note: "Don't hurt Nurse Caé. I stole this without her knowing."

Her gaze drifted to the bottom of the paper, where a signature, that was definitely jargon, "Goon". Ink heaved a heavy sign to relax herself, before angrily flinging the folder away.

*****

When Bitu and Varo stepped out of the hospital, Varo immediately noticed the tension in Bitu's posture. His shoulders were tight, from the argument earlier. Despite the strain, Varo couldn't help but admire him—Bitu was truly impressive.

The fresh, clean air greeted them as they took their first steps outside, refreshing compared to the sterile atmosphere inside. Even just a few feet away from the hospital, the beautiful town's charm was undeniable.

After a short walk, Bitu's eyes caught sight of a small bakery along the street. He paused, his voice lighter than before. "Hey, Varo, let's stop here," he suggested.

Varo nodded, and they stepped inside.

The warmth of the bakery welcomed them. The aroma of fresh, steaming bread mixed with the sweet scent of pastries, created an inviting atmosphere.

"Hey, Bitu!" a young woman behind the counter greeted cheerfully, her smile bright and welcoming.

"Hello!" Bitu responded with equal enthusiasm.

"It's been a while! What can I get for you?" she asked, her voice brimming with energy.

"Yes, it has," Bitu replied warmly. "I'll have some iced tea." He then glanced at Varo, who had been silently wandering, taking in the cozy surroundings.

"Oh!" Varo exclaimed, realizing they were waiting for his order. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he quickly added, "Just water, please."

Bitu smiled, turning back to the attendant. They exchanged a few more words, they seemed to familiar with each other.

With the bakery nearly empty, Varo found himself absorbing the peaceful atmosphere. He ran his fingers over the smooth texture of the coffee chairs and took in the nice smell of pastries. There was plenty to admire, he felt calm.

"Hey, Varo," Bitu called from a table, now seated with their drinks and a pretzel in hand. "Have this. Jun said it's 'for the cute, silly-looking boy.'" Bitu smirked, tearing off a piece for himself. "I already took a bite."

Varo walked over, and smiled softly. "Thank you so much," he said, glancing at Jun, who smiled back knowingly.

"You're welcome, Varo," she replied, confirming Bitu must've told her his name.

Settling into the chair across from Bitu, Varo took a bite of the pretzel.

"This is really good," Bitu said between bites, his tone relaxed.

Varo's expression shifted, a flicker of sadness crossing his face. He couldn't shake the guilt gnawing at him—the train incident, the argument between Bitu and Ink. It felt like he was a burden, dragging others into trouble.

"Uhm…" Varo began, hesitating.

Bitu cut him off, sensing his thoughts. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "That argument? Just me being as petty as she was."

"But won't it cause—"

"It won't escalate, I'm sure," Bitu interrupted firmly. "We were both throwing bluffs and a lot of bull. Trust me, it's not as bad as it seemed."

He sighed, his eyes softening as he leaned back in his chair. After a brief pause, he continued, "I think I should explain the context of the war, after all I owe it to you. Fair warning I will be concealing some minor details," he smiled.

"Twelve years ago, Leora saved Beryl and me. We were barely alive after a massive flood wiped out our clan. I was nine, and Beryl was only four. We wandered from town to town for five months -I think-, barely surviving."

Varo adjusted himself, leaning forward, fully engrossed in Bitu's story.

"We actually met her far west—way farther than you'd imagine," Bitu emphasized. "Beryl was so sick I thought I'd lose her. None of the herbs I knew worked. She could barely eat. I... I thought she was going to die."

His voice faltered for a moment.

---

Bitu's Backstory

It was a cool autumn evening. I had just stolen a few vegetables from a nearby farm, barely escaping with my life as the guard dogs chased me. I clutched the meager handful of produce tightly, knowing it wouldn't be enough. My heart pounded, not from exertion, but from dread—I knew exactly how that night would end.

"Was there no way you could've regrouped with your people after the flood?" Varo asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

Bitu exhaled deeply. "Well," he began, "my clan, the Keto clan, wasn't on the best terms with our neighbors. They never liked us, and when the flood hit, they saw it as a gift from the gods—a divine punishment, maybe. Instead of helping us, they took it as an opportunity to kick us while we were down, making sure we couldn't recover."

Varo's eyes softened with empathy. "That's... awful," he said quietly. "I'll wait until you're done to ask more questions."

Bitu gave a faint smile. "Thanks," he said, then continued.

I returned to where I had told Beryl to wait, but she wasn't there. Panic hit me hard. I searched high and low, calling her name into the night air, my voice shaking. Then, out of nowhere, a calm voice called from behind me.

"Are you looking for your younger sister?"

I spun around. A man stood there. He wasn't in armor, but I knew he was a knight from the sheathed saber at his side. My usual instincts kicked in—if he meant trouble, I'd run. If he seemed gullible, I'd try to swindle him for anything I could get. But tonight, neither option mattered. All I wanted was Beryl.

He introduced himself as Sir Quin. Without waiting for me to decide, he turned and motioned for me to follow. I hesitated for a moment but then followed him, driven by desperation.

He led me straight to the castle. I'll never forget the way those grandiose halls stretched out before me, more magnificent than anything I'd ever seen. I felt like I didn't belong there, like an intruder in a dream.

Finally, we reached one of the upper rooms, and there she was—Beryl, lying peacefully on a bed. Leora, who I later learned was the castle's healer, had managed to subside her fever. Sitting beside them was Prince Nath.

It turned out Beryl wasn't built for the rough life we'd endured. The constant hunger, the cold nights, the endless wandering—it had all taken a toll on her.

Leora was the one who offered us sanctuary. She spoke with the authority of someone important, like a princess or someone even higher. She asked us to stay, and for the first time in months, I felt hope.

Good times... at least for a while.

Bitu's voice trailed off, and he stared at the table. He watched his iced tea become lukewarm, as droplets of water simmer down the bottle.

---

A few months passed, and the king kinda, sorta let us stay. Sir Quin would teach me how to fight on occasions with his squire showing the ropes, though most of my time was spent taking care of the horses. Beryl lived with one of the maid's children, and she seemed happy. Leora, on the other hand, was treated like royalty.

I was content—truly—but there was always this invisible wall between us. Leora must've sensed it because whenever things felt too distant, she'd pull Prince Nath into our antics. Soon enough, we were pulling silly shenanigans together, laughing like we didn't have a care in the world.

Of course, the queen caught wind of our mischief. She reprimanded us every now and then, but it was never too serious. For three peaceful years, nothing wild happened. Then, everything changed.

Prince Nath announced that he wanted to marry Leora. I told myself I was fine with it—honestly, I wanted to be. But deep down, it stung. Leora probably saw us as nothing more than friends, but Prince Nath had a different idea. He thought she had feelings for me.

It was early summer, like this one, when everything fell apart. I was accused of stealing a priceless jewel. I hadn't touched it—I swear—but it didn't matter. The jewel was an heirloom, and the king wasted no time throwing me in the dungeon.

Sir Quin believed in me. He'd visit often, offering what little comfort he could. Then one day, he found the heirloom. Turns out, Prince Nath had hidden it himself and pinned the blame on me out of spite.

Sir Quin knew the truth, but we both understood the danger in revealing it. Telling the king would only stir his anger, and he'd most likely side with his son. I knew how it would end: Sir Quin's life—and mine—would be forfeit.

Even at thirteen, I understood that much.

---

The day judgment was to be passed, they dragged me to my knees like I was nothing but trash. The chains they used were heavy—too powerful for someone my size—but they weren't taking any chances. I kept my head low, my thoughts drifting to Beryl. She wasn't there, and I prayed she had no idea what was happening. I hoped she was somewhere safe, far from all this.

I thought about my people, my clan. Life hadn't been perfect, but it wasn't all bad. I would've given anything to go back to those simpler times.

Then Sir Quin appeared before the council, shocking everyone. He boldly claimed he had stolen the jewel, spouting nonsense in an attempt to take the fall. I could see it in his eyes—he was trying to save me. But the king refused to believe him. His wrath was still fixed on me.

And then Leora showed up. She'd been conveniently sent out of the castle on an assignment for the past four days, when the incident happened. But now she stood there, bold and defiant. You had to see how she entered—like she owned the room. She declared my innocence, stating that it had all been a result of Prince Nath's mischievous act.

The king's face twisted in disbelief. He refused to acknowledge her words. But Leora wasn't done. She yelled at him. Not just the king—she yelled at the queen too. I couldn't believe it. The girl who had once been cautious and calm was now standing up to the most powerful people in the realm.

Prince Nath tried to defend himself, but Leora cut him off. "Be quiet," she said, her voice like a judge. For a brief moment, it seemed like she might actually sway them.

But none of it mattered.

The king's anger blinded him. Consumed by rage, he had been insulted in front of his council.

He cursed the years he had hosted us. His voice echoed through the hall as he delivered his sentence: death—for me, for Sir Quin, and for Leora.

Then came the final blow. He ordered that Beryl be brought forward to share the same fate.

That's when I lost it. All the fear, all the pain—it boiled over into pure madness. My vision blurred, and I could barely hear anything over the pounding in my ears. They were going to kill her. My little sister.

And I couldn't stop them.