Chapter 102: A Thirst for Redemption
The village was not as they left it.
When Elara and Ariella finally stepped through the forest's broken edge after a week-long journey, they were greeted by a silence so thick it felt like death itself had swallowed the land.
The air reeked of rot. The riverbed was a cracked corpse of what once flowed with life, now nothing more than dust and the bones of fish. Children lay slumped beside their parents, lips dry, breath shallow. Others did not move at all.
"No…" Elara whispered, her eyes scanning the lifeless bodies scattered across the village square.
Ariella dropped to her knees beside a young woman with paint still smeared on her fingers. "She was painting birds the last time we saw her..."
The girls pressed forward, each step heavier than the last. The horror mounted with every empty stare, every dry mouth, every still chest.
Then they saw him.
Albert stood at the center of it all, hands clenched, body rigid. His eyes were fixed on the dried-up river, but they were vacant—as if seeing the truth would destroy him.
Elara reached him first. "Albert…"
He didn't turn. "They're dead."
Ariella stepped beside her. "Albert, what happened?"
His shoulders quivered. "I didn't mean for this. I—I just wanted peace."
"The pendant," Elara murmured, pulling it from her pouch. It had grown warm again, as though recognizing its true bearer. "Albert, this belongs to you."
He turned slowly, eyes flicking to the glowing pendant. His hands trembled as he took it. The moment his skin touched its surface, the warmth intensified—and then came the memories.
His mother's voice. Her laughter. The way she cradled him and whispered lullabies. Her hopes, her dreams for him.
"…I want him to grow up kind," the memory echoed in his mind. "To love without fear. To live without chains."
Albert staggered back, the pendant clutched to his chest.
"I remember her…" he whispered, voice cracking. "I remember everything."
Tears welled in his eyes as he sank to his knees. "The shadow… Shaza… He twisted everything. He told me the village rejected me. He said my mother abandoned me. But she didn't. She loved me."
Elara knelt beside him, her voice soft. "Albert… what happened here?"
His face contorted in guilt. "He… Shaza… He told me that if I drained the river, if I weakened them, the village would surrender without a fight. He said it was mercy."
"You drained the river?" Ariella's voice trembled.
"I didn't want to!" Albert cried. "I swear! But the power—he forced it through me. I didn't know it would kill so many. I thought—maybe I was helping. I didn't know who to believe anymore."
Elara placed a hand on his shoulder. "And now?"
"I want to fix it," Albert said, breath shaking. "I don't care what he does to me. I just want to make it right."
"I forgive you," Ariella whispered, kneeling opposite him.
"I do too," Elara added.
Albert bowed his head, lips trembling. "Thank you. I… I swear I'll never hurt anyone again. I'll—"
Suddenly, black tendrils shot up from the earth like vipers. They coiled around Albert's limbs and waist, lifting him into the air.
"No!" Elara screamed, lunging forward.
Ariella grabbed his hand, but the tendrils yanked him higher.
"Elara! Ariella!" Albert cried out. "Don't let him—"
And then he vanished. The tendrils slithered back into the earth, leaving nothing but a jagged scorch mark.
The girls stared at the spot in stunned silence.
"Elara…" Ariella's voice cracked. "What if he kills him?"
"We can't think like that," Elara said through gritted teeth. "We have to believe he's still alive."
And all they could do then… was pray.
---
Albert landed with a sickening thud on the cold stone floor of a place he had not seen in years.
It was the dark chamber where Shaza had raised him. The walls were jagged with smoke-drenched rock. The ceiling pulsed with veins of shadow.
Above him, the thick cloud of Shaza loomed.
"I raised you," the voice said coldly, echoing from the smoke, "and with a simple pendant, you've already betrayed me."
Albert slowly stood, fists clenched. "You lied to me."
"I shaped you," the shadow hissed. "I gave you power. Purpose. And you side with them over me?"
"They didn't kill the village," Albert shot back. "You did."
"I gave them a chance!" Shaza thundered. "Peace was offered, and they spat on it."
"You wanted control, not peace," Albert growled. "And now you've killed people who had nothing to do with it."
"They were weak."
"They were human."
The smoke churned, coiling tighter. " I expected more from you Albert. More than the Master? Than Laxman? They all failed me. Just as you have."
"Then kill me," Albert snapped. "Go on. That's what you do best, right? Kill those who fail you. Go ahead and kill me. "
A long silence.
Then, a chilling chuckle.
"No," Shaza whispered. "Killing you would be wastage. And you're far too valuable for that."
Before Albert could move, tendrils erupted again. They wrapped tightly around him, cutting off breath and light.
He screamed—but no one heard.
---
When the tendrils withdrew, Albert collapsed face-first into thick, cold mud.
He coughed, gasping for air. Darkness enveloped him completely. No moonlight. No wind. Just endless black.
Above him, far beyond reach, the voice returned.
"You will stay here until you understand."
"Where is this?" Albert shouted.
"A place the forest forgot," Shaza replied. "A ditch carved from your own doubt."
Albert scrambled to climb the sheer, muddy walls—but they crumbled under his grip. "Let me out!"
"The only way out," Shaza said, "is to come back to me. Completely. No hesitation. No heart."
"You're wasting your time."
"We'll see," the voice purred. "Food will come once a day. Just enough to keep your body alive. But your mind? That… will be mine soon enough."
The voice faded.
Albert was alone.
Total darkness. No sounds but his breath. No company but silence.
He pressed the pendant to his chest. The warmth was gone.
But the memory of his mother's voice remained.
"I want you to grow up kind…"
He closed his eyes.
And held on.