Chapter 1: Death to thee

Wailing screams pierced the long corridor, echoing amidst the distant roar of raging flames. Moonlight seeped through the windows, casting ghostly bars of light onto the blue carpet, now stained crimson with blood and littered with bodies charred by the merciless fire. The air thundered with the sound of collapsing wood and crumbling pedestals as masterful works—vases and paintings—tumbled to the ground, their shattered remnants sealing the passages of the once-majestic castle. The atmosphere was choked with acrid smoke and an overwhelming sense of despair, as if the very walls themselves were crying out, trembling in anguish at the catastrophic destruction that had befallen them.

Amidst the desert’s scorching screams of fire, a lone figure strode forward, limping with his arm braced against the soot-blackened walls for support. The intense heat penetrated his skin, eliciting shrieks of agony as his flesh seared and cooked. Yet, the man did not react, even as his foot charred to pure black and flames licked at his body. Despite the searing pain, he continued forward, a desperate determination etched in his eyes, tinged with despair. The relentless inferno surrounded him, yet he pressed on.

The hellish inferno seemed to mock Theron as it slowly consumed his body. He gritted his teeth, pushing forward with a desperation that defied the searing agony. At last, through the thick smoke, he found the doors he'd been seeking—twin slabs of iron-bound oak, now groaning from the extreme heat.

Mustering his waning strength, Theron hurled himself against the unyielding doors again and again until, with a thunderous groan, they parted. He tumbled through, emerging onto a terrace overlooking a nightmare vista of destruction.

There, silhouetted against the hellish background of dancing flames, stood Armen. The leaping light cast the man's chiseled features in a perpetual flux of light and shadow. His eyes, haunted yet intense, bored into Theron with an accusation more damning than the inferno itself.

"Armen… you must escape!" Theron rasped, his voice little more than a tortured croak after inhaling so much smoke. "Flee… while you still can!"

He staggered forward, each step a battle against the scouring waves of heat. But Armen remained motionless, unflinching against the lethal onslaught of fire. A glistening tear traced down Armen’s soot-stained cheek as he slowly drew his sword.

"You brought ruin upon us all," Armen intoned, his voice laced with sadness and regret. "You led us down this path… and then dared to blindly flee the consequences?"

Theron recoiled as if struck, the words more painful than the fire assaulting his body. He dropped to his knees amidst the smoldering carpet, shudders wracking his ravaged form.

"No! I… I couldn't contain the seal any longer! But you have to survive, Armen! You more than anyone! You cannot give up!"

A deafening boom filled Theron's ears as the castle began to tear itself apart. Smoke and embers swirled in a tornado around them as sections of wall and ceiling rained down. This was the pyre of his making—his judgment for disrupting what he could not control.

Armen leveled his blade at Theron, their eyes locking one final time through the thick black fog. Theron saw it all in that moment—regret, sorrow, determination… and the cold lament of necessity.

"I will bear your burden," Armen said solemnly. "But you must pay the price for your sin."

As rubble crashed down upon them, Armen's blade swung through the fire, enveloping Theron in an explosion of light and heat. He felt no pain as oblivion swiftly claimed him.

For an endless moment, only the roar of the inferno filled the silence between them. Armen took a step forward, his blade leveled at the man who damned them all. “Theron,” he began, his voice filled with a seething anger and desperation, “The arduous march, the harrowing hellfires we braved on our journey. Was it worth the pain we endured? The lives we save, the land we fought to protect, the souls we rescued from the abyss. Was it worth it in the end?”

Enraged, Armen struck his sword into the ground beside Theron’s burning body. He spun around, his regal blue cape now ablaze, its noble designs that define a person of the royal lineage consumed by the fire ravaging the land. Struggling, he staggered towards the Terrace, reaching into the darkness ahead.

The audience outside the stage gasped, their hearts brimming with hope as they were fully immersed in the unfolding scene… Armen masked his true emotions, feigning sorrow as tears streamed down his face. A ray of light highlighted Armen’s figure as he pressed on, his voice resonating off the stones walls, “Devils! Hear me! You sought my soul! You craved everything I possess! I offer a bargain!”

In response, a dark cloud materialized next to the terrace, capturing Armen’s attention. He extended his trembling hand, offering. “Leave my citizens in peace! Promise me that you will never harm those I hold dear, and only then I may consider joining your cause.”

The dark cloud extended one of its limbs, nearly touching Armen’s outstretched hand. In a sudden blackout, all the lights disappeared briefly before quickly returning. The light showered upon Armen’s castle collapsed to the ground, and his body morphed into the form of a monstrous being. His figure was barely discernible, but the unmistakable blue regal cape, now thorned and blackened, remained a distinctive icon.

The audience gasped, saddened by the twist in the tale of their favorite hero, who had fallen from the light and succumbed to his own darkness. Curtains from the side slowly covered the stage, marking the end of the saga of Light King Armen.

…

Yusciel blinked, the sound of cheers and laughter pulling her out of her daydream. She found herself in a dimly lit dining hall, her absent gaze fixed on the extravagant feast laid out before her. A sudden snap of fingers broke her reverie, focusing her attention on the blurry figure in front of her. There, she noticed a familiar finger adorned with white gloves and a collection of rings chaining to a wristband. Following the trail of long white sleeves, she spotted Theron seated beside her.

A lopsided smile played on his lips as Theron’s figure spoke, “Daydreaming again, are we?”

Yusciel felt herself flush. “Apologies, Joseph. My mind seems drifting off to slumber.” She surveyed the remains of their meal, plates half-clear and many globets except hers drained.

Joseph gestured with a wave, grabbing a piece of deep-fried chicken as he responded, “Nah. There’s nothing wrong with that. Just thinking that you should finish up and sleep on your bed right away.”

Yusciel frowned at the sight of the white glove stained by the thick spicy hot sauce of the chicken. She sighed, picked up a fork, and silently offered it with a glare, threatening Joseph with a sharp pointed fork. He accepted wryly, taking off the gloves as he stabbed the chicken wings with it.

Simultaneously, another voice emerged among the people crowding the chairs, “That is true,” said the voice.

Yusciel’s attention was drawn on the man seated across the table, Kaine, who had played the role of dark devil antagonist in the earlier play. Not only did he control the dark cloud magic but also provided the voice for the character. So unlike Theron and Armen—Joseph and Yusciel—dressed in elaborate attire, Kaine wore a simple white tunic with long sleeves and a black vest. With a smug expression, Kaine turned to his right and pointed accusingly, “It’s his fault for all of this.”

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“That is correct. However, we have agreed that I will be paying 30% more of your salary,” Director Celton replied as he elegantly cut into the pork with a knife and fork. “Nevertheless, all is well. All of you made it through the play without any mistakes. Especially you, Yusciel, your control over the fire was impeccable as always.”

Yusciel’s cheeks flushed in red under her light makeup. “Really though?” She expressed her doubts, glancing at Joseph as she slowly reached for her wooden cup. “I remember making a mistake earlier and accidentally burned your skin, Joseph. Are you okay?”

“You did,” Joseph responded, gulping down the chicken stuck in his mouth, waving his piece as he continued, “but it’s no biggie; I already had healed at the clinic earlier.”

“Hmmm,” she let out a long, whispering hum, taking a sip of the ice-cold orange juice that was already diluted from the melted ice water. Her head nodded off and she barely managed to keep her eyes open. Then, her body jolted and she turned to the director with an odd gaze. “Mr. Celton? I think you mentioned meeting a professor from the Academy, someone you hold in high regard, to meet after the last performance.”

“I did… But I believe Professor Alms is currently meeting Samantha at the Common halls, so his appearance is much delayed,” he replied. Though his nonchalant face remained the same, his eyebrow subtly furrowed.

“Ehh?” she drawled, returning a tired gaze.

“You can go to your room and rest. I will introduce you to him the next morning when you wake up.”

“I see. Thanks. Let’s do that. I should go now. I can’t fight off this drowsiness any longer,” Yusciel said as she stood up from the chair and made her way to the door.

As she opened the door, Celton’s voice called out from behind, “Don’t forget to remove your makeup before going to sleep.“

Exhausted, she mumbled a tired, “yes, yes,” returned a wave, and made her way out, closing the door behind her.

Yusciel approached the long window stretching along the corridor, framing a view of the night skies beyond. The bright moon above cast a soft, glowing light on the drifting gray clouds that almost appeared peaceful beside the flying ship. In the distance, the lights of other vessels blinked in repetition, piercing through the masses of gray, almost resembling the stars cluttered above.

She let out a deep sigh, feeling the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with her. As her remaining energy continued to seep away, her body ached and a sense of languor settled in with each movement, but the tranquil all around provided a temporary relief.

Turning her gaze to the long corridor she had to walk through before she could wrap herself in a cocoon of her bed covers, a fleeting thought mildly entertained the sense of pleasure, momentarily corrupting her senses with the idea, ‘should I just sleep in this corridor?’

Suddenly, the surroundings darkened slightly as Yusciel turned to gaze outside the window, the scenery beyond growing even darker—a thick cloud must have been passing by, blocking the light from above. In a moment, her eyes caught her reflection on the glass, revealing long, straight, lustrous black hair, and tired, dark eyes. She had thrown an black robe over her royal outfit from the earlier performance, and could not be bothered to go through the ordeal of changing out of the horrendous royal attire.

However, what troubled her the most were the noticeable under-eye bags. ‘Damn, that’s one hell of an eye bag,’ she thought, leaning in closer to gently touch the darkened area peeking through her fading makeup.

Another deep sigh escaped her lips as she turned on her heel to leave, only to be interrupted by a burst of laughter coming from the neighboring room, shattering the peaceful corridor. Initially unbothered, she couldn’t help but grow curious when a whispering voice beneath the bustling neighborhood noises caught her attention. Her senses were fleeting, yet sharpening as she tried to focus on the mysterious voices.

‘This voice… This sounds like Kaine… Why is he whispering so suspiciously?’ Yusciel tensed. Although she didn’t really want to listen to private conversation between men, one of them mentioned her name amidst the noise, further igniting her curiosity. She stepped closer to the door, pressing against the wall quietly to listen to their conversation.

Yusciel pondered, ‘If this is related to the earlier performance, it would be fantastic to hear their thoughts.’ Her expression darkened as she continued to remember, ‘I made more mistakes than usual, improvised off-script multiple times, and my voice wasn’t its best. Honestly, it might be better if I don’t receive any feedback on my performance today; I already know deep in my bones how horrendously awful it went.’

Kaine’s voice whispered through the walls, asking, “Brother, did you tell her about it?”

Celton’s voice replied with uncertainty, “No, not yet. Perhaps it might be better to wait until we arrive at the Island of Arts.”

“That’s no-good, no-good at all brother. She’ll definitely get pissed if you do that to her. Hey, you know what? Let me handle this; I’ll talk to her about it. I’ll even bring Lexine as a sweet backup.”

Joseph’s voice immediately followed, adding, “Yeah. Yusciel is mature enough to understand why you’re doing this; she’s not the same kid you picked up years ago.”

‘What are they talking about?’ Yusciel wondered. A nagging suspicion crept up her spine, with a hint screaming at the back of her mind, but she vehemently refused to acknowledge it. Nervously, she found herself unconsciously biting her lips as she cracked her fingers one by one.

“She deserves better, right? You have to tell her that she should go to Flusterwald Academy!” Kaine’s voice pierced through the room.

Upon hearing this, Yusciel’s heart sank. She had anticipated this moment, as she had frequently pondered whether she desired to attend academy to improve her talents and skills in acting, magic, and the arts. However, each time the thought crossed her mind, she vehemently rejected it.

‘But to think they have to this scummy way.’ She felt a little betrayed, but knowing it was a decision that would help her in the future, she couldn’t bring herself in anger. She lets out a sigh, thinking, ‘I really don’t want to leave the Wanderland Troupe.’

As drowsiness clouded her thoughts, she spun on her heel and continued down the long, weary corridors of the ship. Eventually, she came to a halt at an intersection, where a group of people dressed in uniforms matching those of the academy she presumed she would be attending.

The group was led by an old, scrawny man with an impressively long white beard, clutching several documents to his chest, maintaining a dignified appearance. Two figures shadowed closely in their midst, their faces obscured by thick hoods.

As they walked past Yusciel, paying little attention to her, she let out another deep sigh before noticing something suspicious ahead of her. A figure in a black robe turned their head back—to Yusciel, their eyes meeting. The figure revealed a glimpse of a man with bloodshot red eyes, his fingers seeping through the cuffs, shivering abnormally. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly as his eyes widened before abruptly turning back to the front. A girl dressed in white was walking further ahead of them, skipping steps with her yellow-orange hair fluttering, appearing to be focused on the sight beyond the window to her right.

‘That’s odd,’ Yusciel thought. She quickened her pace, pushing past the drowsiness that was clouding her mind, following the two from behind until they reached the end of the long corridor where the elevator that led downwards awaited. The girl entered first, with the man positioning himself at the back.

Yusciel caught sight of a girl inputting on the device. She waved her hand frantically, signaling the oblivious girl to wait. Kindly, the girl smiled back at Yusciel and pressed a button that made the elevator door pause and open.

Finally, Yusciel entered the elevator and exclaimed, “Thank you,” walking beside the girl, facing her with a friendly expression so she could see both figures.

“Your welcome,” she replied, fiddling with the controls once more, before closing the door to start the elevator.

‘I might just follow quietly until we get into the crowd. He won’t be able to do anything with two people around, anyway.”

As she thought about it, there was an odd and abrupt—painful sensation gripping her throat, with hot-sweat liquid trickling down her neck. Her gaze fell upon a knife pressed firmly against her throat—her mind went blank as she caught sight of the culprit—it was the girl whose hands were equipped with knives.

“Fufufu—,” ominous laughter escaped from the girl’s lips.

Before Yusciel could comprehend what was happening, everything faded into darkness.