The voice was smooth, amused, and far too familiar. Aron stepped out from the shadows, his hands casually resting in his pockets. He looked at me the way a predator looks at its prey—confident, unhurried.
"What do you want, Aron?" My voice was cold, steady, but inside, I was boiling.
He tilted his head, feigning confusion. "Want? Oh, nothing really. Just checking in on my... classmate." His smirk deepened, and he took a step closer. "You've been awfully distracted lately. Something troubling you?"
I clenched my fists, the sword at my side humming with dark energy. I could feel it whispering again, urging me to strike, to let it take over and end this charade. But I held back. Not yet.
"Stay out of my business," I said through gritted teeth.
"Business?" Aron chuckled, his tone mockingly light. "Oh, Venzel, you're far more interesting than you let on. I mean, a defective sword, a failing family, and now... no family at all. It's almost tragic."
The world seemed to stop. My blood turned to ice.
"What did you just say?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Aron's smirk vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. "I said it's tragic, Venzel. What happened to the Kaelith family. But then again... they were standing in the way, weren't they?"
My hand shot to the sword's hilt, the whispers in my mind growing louder. "You—" I began, but Aron raised a hand, silencing me.
"Don't act so surprised. You must've known someone would come for them eventually. Your family had secrets, Venzel. Dangerous ones. The kind that could tip the balance of power." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I needed that secret.. To save this world. You know that too, don't you Venzel."
My breath hitched, anger and confusion swirling in my mind. "You're admitting it? You destroyed my family?"
"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Aron straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "I didn't destroy them. I simply... expedited the inevitable. They were bound to be destroyed, they need to be, I won't be wanting unneeded variables on my path to saving the world, would I?."
The sword pulsed violently, its whispers now a roar. Let me end him. Let me show him what true power is.
But I wasn't ready—not yet. I needed answers.
"Why?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "Why go through all this trouble? What do you gain from destroying my family? Why couldn't you have just asked?"
Aron's smirk returned, cruel and mocking. "Isn't it obvious? The Kaelith family has the key to one of the weapons used by the protagonist in the novel to save the world... A treasure that let's you slow time in the outside world just by being inside! Its vital and powerful. And now that they're gone, it's mine to claim."
I took a step back, my grip on the sword tightening. "You won't get away with this," I spat.
"Oh, Venzel," Aron said with a chuckle. "You still don't understand, do you? This isn't about right or wrong, justice or vengeance. This is about saving this world.. Isn't that what you wanted? You deviated from your path but don't worry, your pitiful self can't do anything about it... And you, with that defective sword of yours, let it consume you already... Be the next obstacle for me, don't keep me waiting Venzel."
He turned to leave, his silhouette fading into the shadows. "Do try to survive, though. I'd hate for this game to end so soon."
As he disappeared, I finally let out the breath I'd been holding. My hands were trembling, my mind racing.
The sword spoke again, its voice cold and enticing.
"He's right, you know. You're powerless. But I can change that. Let me in, Venzel. Let me give you the strength to take back what's yours."
I closed my eyes, the weight of everything pressing down on me. My family was gone. My name was ruined. And the man responsible had walked away without a scratch.
But not for long.
I opened my eyes, my gaze hard and unyielding.
"Fine," I whispered to the sword. "But I'll make the rules."
The sword pulsed, its dark energy seeping into me. I could feel its power coursing through my veins, a cold, terrible strength that promised vengeance.
# 3rd Person POV:
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The world Venzel once knew was gone, and in its ashes lies a new path—one where vengeance becomes his guiding light.
The days following the letter were marked by silence and dread.
News of the Kaelith family's destruction spreads through the academy like wildfire.
Nobles whisper in hushed tones, afraid of what such an event means for their own security.
Commoners express cautious sympathy, though they remain distant, knowing the gulf between their worlds.
Venzel's friends—Serra, Lena, Thad, and Ryn—were true friends and visited Venzel daily , even vowing to help him uncover the truth.
Aron, meanwhile, plays the role of an aloof observer, feigning ignorance while subtly maneuvering events to isolate Venzel.
His interest in Venzel seems genuine on the surface, but beneath it lies a calculated intent.
One night, in a particularly vivid dream, the sword shows him a vision of his parents' final moments. Their execution is portrayed in agonizing detail, fueling Venzel's fury.
When he wakes, the whispers are deafening.
Unable to suppress his anger, Venzel confronts Aron in a secluded part of the academy.
The air between Venzel and Aron crackled with tension as they stood in the shadowed grove, a secluded part of the academy far from prying eyes.
The whispers of the cursed sword at Venzel's side grew louder, feeding on the storm of emotions roiling within him.
Aron's calm demeanor only stoked the fire.
"Your family's demise was inevitable," Aron said, his voice cold, calculated. "The system never cared for them, Venzel. It was always going to happen. I simply... expedited the process."
Venzel's knuckles turned white as he clenched the hilt of his sword. His voice trembled with barely contained fury. "Expedited? You're telling me you had a hand in it? For what? A scripted story?"
Aron's smirk deepened. "You're not the only one out of place in this world. The difference is, I know the script, and I play my part. Your family? They were an inconvenience. Their removal? Necessary. But you? You're a wildcard, and wildcards." He stepped forward, his eyes gleaming. "need to be controlled."