Chapter 19:

Sona remained on the floor, wounded, silent, but still breathing.

“Sona, it’s over.” I said, my voice laced with pain and exhaustion. “We finally got her.”

She didn’t respond.

Deciding to give her a moment, I steadied myself against the wall and made my way toward the shattered window. As I neared the opening, my mind raced, thoughts of the task still ahead swirled inside. I might have gotten rid of Lida, but the real problem still remained. I was still under contract with Vorlexia. Someone needed to be sacrificed to fulfill the agreement and protect my own soul.

The sacrifice she wanted could have been Jhad, but I was skeptical…

This fight with Sona against Lida left me anxious, fearing that Vorlexia’s intended sacrifice might have been Sona all along. After going through such an arduous battle together, the thought of her being the one felt like the ultimate demonic prank. And based on my understanding of demons, that was probably going to be the case…

Gazing out of the window, a chill ran down my spine - Lida’s body, which I expected to see lying on the ground, was nowhere to be found. The shards of glass were scattered on the ground, but she wasn’t there. Not even a pool of blood.

How had she survived the fall? And why was there no blood?

“She’s not there.” I whispered nervously.

“What?” Sona suddenly responded, her voice labored. She was still lying on the floor, her forehead pressed against the floor, her arms hugging her own frame.

“Lida…she’s gone!” I exclaimed, genuine terror gripping me. The thought of her still alive, even though quartzless, was horrifying.

“Who cares…We’re free now.” Sona said as she slowly stood up, her eyes reflecting a mix of relief, pain, and exhaustion.

I was reminded that Sona was bound to this village only because of Lida’s magic, and now, with Lida gone, she was free. However, my own freedom remained trapped in the deal I had made with Vorlexia. I couldn’t share the truth with her – for obvious reasons. Instead, I knew I had to deceive her.

I looked at her, hoping to find a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. “Sona, I need your help. Ren is in the infirmary, and I can’t do it alone.” I said. “Remember when you attacked me, and I mentioned my friend, Ren? Vera and Lida used her to keep me in check.”

Sona narrowed her tired eyes, recalling the past events. “Yeah…I remember Ren.” she said, her tone flat.

Relief washed over me, thinking I had convinced her to stay. “Great, come with me. We need to act fast.”

But she suddenly shook her head. “No. I won’t be joining you.”

“What?” I protested, bewildered by her response.

“Since you brought up our first meeting, I’ll remind you what I told you back then too.” She said, her voice firm. “I have someone who needs saving as well, and wasting any more time here could be fatal to him.”

Combining her words with what I had learned from Lida’s earlier taunts, I asked. “It’s your brother, right?”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes. My little brother. He’s in Willox, and I can’t waste any more time here. I have to save him.”

“What happened to him?” I asked, trying to understand her urgency.

She seemed like she was about to answer, but then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Only I can save him!”

Despite her urgent tone, I attempted to persuade her to stay - I might still need her for my deal with Vorlexia.

“I’m from Willox.” I admitted, then quickly turned to a lie, hoping to strike a chord. “I can help you navigate the capital if you help me now. Together, we can save both Ren and your brother.”

But despite my efforts to sway her, she remained resolute. “It doesn’t matter.” She said firmly. “I’m injured, and Vera and the other villagers…they’re still out there. They could easily outnumber and overpower us. I can’t risk it. If I die here, no one will save my brother. I’d rather take my chances navigating the capital alone than not navigating it at all if I end up dead here.”

Her words cut through my hopes. Realizing my lies hadn’t worked, I resorted to a darker tactic – guilt-tripping.

“Then you’re no different than Jhad.” I said bitterly. “You were furious when he left us after we dealt with Walden, but now you’re doing the same – ready to abandon me for your own personal goals.”

Her reaction was swift. “Don’t compare me to that piece of garbage!” She snapped. “His reasons were driven by his maniacal thirst for revenge, while mine are completely selfless!”

I pressed on, hoping to intensify the emotional strain. “Oh, your oh so selfless reasons - your brother. What do you think he’d say if he knew you left the person who saved you to face death alone? What would he think of you?”

Her discomfort was evident, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. But after a moment, she regained composure and stood firm. “I don’t care what he thinks of me. I just want him to be safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

I took a deep breath, realizing that words alone wouldn’t change her mind. My only option was drastic but necessary. No matter what, I couldn’t let her leave Vedem before I settled my debt with Vorlexia. Sona had her brother to save - I understood that - but I had someone to save too. Who would bring Ren to a real healer if my soul was consumed by Vorlexia? Who would help her reach Kase? No one. I was the only one who could do that.

Approaching Sona with a calm demeanor, I sighed, feigning acceptance of her decision. “I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but I do understand, Sona. You have your reasons, and I respect that. Good luck on the road, and I hope you save him.”

As I extended my hand for a handshake, she seemed surprised by my sudden kindness and acceptance. Confusion flashed across her face, and after a brief hesitation, she slowly reached out to shake my hand.

Seizing the opportunity, I swiftly pulled her toward me and delivered a targeted punch to her side with my free hand, striking the spot where Lida had bitten her earlier. A pained gasp escaped her lips, and for a brief moment, I regretted resorting to such measures. But desperate times called for desperate actions, and keeping her here was crucial for my sake and Ren’s.

I had hoped that the punch to that vulnerable spot would be enough to knock her out, or at least weaken her enough for me to overpower her completely. But to my surprise, that wasn’t the case…

With our hands still connected, she abruptly yanked me toward her and landed a sharp punch to my gut. The air rushed from my lungs, and before I could recover, another punch followed, this one striking my face. I stumbled backward, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

“You motherfucker! Why did you do that?” she cursed, her voice filled with rage before becoming even more threatening. “You can rot in here for all I care!”

She turned to leave, but it was clear my punch to her injured side was no joke. Blood trickled from the wound, and she held it with her hand, using the wall for stability as she tried to reach the stairs.

Desperation moved me as I hastily stood up and rushed her from behind. The sudden collision sent both of us crashing to the floor.

Though I initially found myself on top, Sona swiftly employed her martial arts skills, reversing our positions. Now, she was straddling me, and a sense of helplessness washed over me.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I raised my arms to defend against her punches, but the blows started landing one after another. Each hit felt like a step closer to defeat - not just in this physical confrontation, but in the larger battle involving my deal with Vorlexia. The weight of it all bore down on me, and I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that everything was slipping away.

Abruptly, the punches stopped, and Sona unexpectedly rose from her dominant position. She looked down at me, a mixture of disappointment and disapproval in her eyes, and sighed heavily.

“I know leaving you behind is the wrong move, morally. I know that! I know!” she shouted, her voice strained with frustration. “But attacking me for it? That’s even worse, Luca…”

She turned and began descending the staircase, leaving me on the floor, grappling with the physical and emotional pain. My body ached from the consecutive fights – Walden, Lida, and now Sona.

I recalled the expression on Sona’s face when she left, that disgusted and confused look she gave me. How dare she look at me like that? She was the one leaving me behind after I saved her! Sure, I only saved her so she would help me defeat Lida, and to use her as a potential sacrifice to save myself, but she didn’t know that. From her perspective, she was leaving the only person who’d shown her even a sliver of kindness in this wretched place, and that was the truly disgusting thing - not me attacking her.

Slowly, I managed to rise, wincing with each movement. The window revealed the darkening skies of evening, and I wondered if the ritual would even proceed after all that had happened – Walden dead, Lida incapacitated, and Jhad’s violent spree among the villagers.

I dragged myself into the room where I had been imprisoned, my gaze falling on Lida’s severed finger. The idea of using the quartz ring myself was tempting. Her magic had been wicked, but it could still be useful if used in a less malevolent way.

In my hands, the once vibrant pink ring now appeared dull and grey. It dawned on me that this magic was a gift from Vorlexia to Lida, easily bestowed and just as easily reclaimed.

As I stared at the lifeless ring in my hand, an unexpected sound disrupted my thoughts. Before I could turn to investigate, a sharp impact crashed into the back of my head, and everything went black.

***

As my eyes fluttered open, I was met with a series of weak slaps against my face, pulling me back to reality. The throbbing pain in my head intensified with each heartbeat, and the muffled sounds around me slowly became clearer. I realized I was in the main square of the village, directly in front of the stone statue of Vitara.

My vision focused on the figures before me. Vera - or rather, Vorlexia in her deceptive human form - stood beside the statue, dressed in a traditional dark-red gown, cradling a dark leather-bound book in her hands. Her serene smile, aimed directly at me, sent shivers down my spine as I memories of her true demonic appearance flashed in my mind.

Beside her was Belferon. He, too, was draped in the dark-red garment, but the usual gleam in his eyes had been replaced by anxious nervousness.

“Can we start now?” he asked, his voice filled with an unfamiliar urgency.

Vera smiled calmly in response. “Very well.”

The dreaded ritual I’d been desperately trying to avoid was about to unfold, with me as the main dish. Literally.

As my senses slowly returned, I shifted my gaze downward and realized I was on my knees, my hands tightly bound behind my back. The rest of the surroundings gradually came into focus as well, revealing a semi-circle of villagers behind me, all dressed in the same dark-red gowns. Around two-thirds of their number in their gathering thirty-three days ago. The rest had probably fallen victim to Jhad.

Speaking of Jhad…I wondered what had become of him.

Interrupting the commencement of the ritual, I directed my gaze to Vorlexia and bluntly asked. “Where is Jhad?” Hoping that the bandit was the soul she wanted in exchange for mine.

Her response was a knowing smile. In a feigned tone, she continued to play the role of Vitara’s Prophet, inquiring innocently. “Do you mean that bandit brute who butchered my poor brothers and sisters?”

The fact that she was still maintaining her act, even now - after telling me this would be her last feast - was nothing short of maddening.

Suppressing a smirk, I replied. “Indeed. That’s the Jhad I was referring to.”

“He was intercepted.” She said coldly. “And like anyone who defies Vitara’s faithful, he was punished accordingly.”

The murmurs of agreement from the villagers behind me were clear, and Vorlexia casually pointed toward the entrance of the infirmary.

Dread clenched my chest as I turned and saw Jhad’s lifeless form still gripping the door handle, suspended in a gruesome display. His body was pierced multiple times by something large – much larger than a mere sword or spear.

Well…he had it coming.

But if the ritual was still set to proceed, then Jhad wasn’t the soul Vorlexia desired. That left only Belferon or Sona, and with Sona out of the picture, my eyes shifted to Belferon. The man I had assumed was too obvious a choice for the deal could still be the one. Knowing I had no way of getting Sona, I understood that I had to take my chances and ensure Belferon was sacrificed in my place.

Maybe luck would be on my side this time. Perhaps, after so many throws, this unfair coin would finally land heads up, and I’d manage to survive.

But first, I needed to ensure I still had time. That Vorlexia wouldn’t just decide to stop me.

Belferon anxiously urged her to hasten the ritual. “Dear Prophet, you are already kind enough to even speak to this nobody. He does not deserve it - especially since he was the one who released that mad bandit who tried to butcher us all.”

She nodded at his words, opened the dark leather-bound book in her hands, and began murmuring prayers. The villagers and Belferon joined her in unison, their eyes closed.

As I listened to their whispered words, I couldn’t shake the feeling they were likely meaningless. Empty phrases crafted by Vorlexia to manipulate these people into believing they served a higher purpose.

Vorlexia’s eyes locked with mine, a knowing smile playing on her lips, as if to acknowledge the secret we shared. I couldn’t understand why she continued with these theatrics, even now. Testing the waters, I voiced my confusion. “Why keep up the act?” I asked, my words cutting through the prayers.

Her smile widened at my question, yet she offered no explanation.

The villagers and Belferon persisted with their prayers, the hum intensifying, seemingly oblivious to our exchange.

Whatever was going to happen after they finished their prayers would undoubtedly end with my death, so I pressed on. “What’s the point of all this? You could take my soul and be done with it. Why the theatrics?”

Vorlexia rolled her eyes in response, and that simple gesture gave me the answer I was seeking. She likely relished the theatrics more than anything. After four centuries of consuming souls, she was probably bored – looking for excitement wherever she could find it.

If she enjoyed this spectacle so much, perhaps she was giving me an opportunity.

I didn’t waste a second, forcing myself up from my kneeling position. Though battered from my fights with Lida and Sona, I managed to rise, the villagers oblivious to my movements.

Vorlexia’s gaze remained fixed on me, and she offered no resistance as I stood. Instead, she smiled – a silent confirmation of my suspicions.

Empowered by her reaction, I turned my attention to Belferon - the man who had lured me into this nightmarish village. The man I should have never trusted. I’d known he was suspicious when I first met him, yet in a moment of weakness, I’d allowed myself to believe there was kindness in others.

Seizing their lack of attention, I rushed toward Belferon, slamming him against the stone figure of Vitara.

His shock was evident in the gasp that escaped his lips, his eyes wide with disbelief. But he quickly recovered, standing cautiously, careful not to touch the statue - seemingly afraid of it.

Before he could do anything else, I lunged at him again, despite my hands being bound behind my back. We crashed to the ground near the statue, struggling against each other, while the villagers continued their prayers and Vorlexia watched, refusing to interfere.

Belferon, now on the defensive, grunted. “You can’t stop this! I’ve waited too long, and will regain my youth!”

Refusing to die here, I used the leverage from my position to propel myself upward, aiming a kick at his crouching form. Though my foot connected, Belferon’s determination proved stronger. Gritting through the blow, he stood and distanced himself, resuming his prayer, leaving me on the ground.

The weight today’s battles amplified the pain in my body, making every movement an arduous task. But I knew that Belferon’s soul was still very likely the price to pay for my deal with Vorlexia.

Summoning the last reserves of adrenaline and my unyielding will to survive, I rolled onto my stomach. Determined to stand, I forced myself to my feet and staggered forward, rushing Belferon once more. However, the old man proved cunning this time. With a sly grin, he sidestepped my charge, leaving his foot in my path.

In my weakened state, I tripped over his outstretched foot and crashed to the ground again. Frustration surged within me as I struggled to rise once more.

The pulsating ache in my body intensified, but the thought of Ren powered my determination. I took a deep breath and rolled onto my side, deciding to move my restrained hands to the front.

The process was excruciating. I manoeuvred my hands, bound behind my back, beneath my body, contorting my limbs in ways they were never meant to bend. Every movement sent sharp, unbearable waves of pain through my already battered body, but I pushed through. Inch by agonizing inch, I moved my hands beneath my legs. At last, with one final, agonizing effort, I managed to pull my hands free to the front. The pain was immense, and though I was convinced that my left shoulder was now dislocated in the process, I forced myself to scream only silently, drowned out by the villagers’ united prayers.

Breathless and in agony, I struggled to my feet, my bound hands now in front of me.

I launched myself at Belferon, and we collided, both of us tumbling to the ground. I manage to position myself on top, ready to do what was needed to be done. But the grin on his face suggested he still believed he was winning.

“It’s over!” he shouted. “You’re too late!”

Suddenly, the villagers stopped their prayers, and a tremor rippled through the ground, disrupting our struggle. I lost focus for a moment, allowing Belferon to break free, and kick me off himself.

Lying disoriented on the ground, I watched in disbelief as something surreal unfolded before me.

The statue of Vitara, once a lifeless figure, began to move. Her hands stirred, and the smile on her face twisted into a serious expression. Her eyes, no longer stone, seemed to pierce through the air and land directly on me.

“All hail Vitara!” Vorlexia shouted, and the villagers echoed her cry in unison.

I was stunned. The stone figure at the center of the village had come to life. Belferon’s words suddenly made sense - when he said Vitara would strike me herself, he had meant it literally.

Was this part of Vorlexia’s demonic magic, or was it truly Vitara?

The unfolding events defied all logic, leaving me bewildered.