Raven's POV
"Hang him! He's a traitor!"
"Yes! Hang him! There is no place for traitors among us!" The crowd's roar shook the air.
I knelt on a wooden platform with my hands bound tightly behind my back and my ankles secured with thick ropes. The coarse fibers dug into my skin every time I shifted, but I had long since stopped trying to loosen them.
Thousands of angry faces stared back at me. Men and women, young and old, all gathered to witness my execution. Their eyes burned with hatred, their mouths twisted into expressions of disgust. Some shouted insults. Others hurled stones.
A sharp pain exploded across my forehead. My head snapped to the side. For a moment, the world blurred, and a strange ringing filled my ears. Warm liquid trickled down my temple, passed over my eyebrow, and slid across my cheek.
Blood. A lot of it. I could feel it running down half my face, gathering at my chin before dripping onto the platform beneath me.
I stared at the dark red drops. My lips parted, but the word barely escaped. "No… no, this can't be happening." I had done everything right.
I had abandoned the capital years ago. I had left behind the military, the political games, the endless arguments between nobles, and the ambitions of people who would trample anyone beneath their feet to climb one step higher.
I had severed every connection that might drag me back into that world. I had chosen a quiet life far away from the city, where nobody knew my name and nobody cared who I had once been. All I had wanted was to live peacefully until the day I died.
So why was I here? Why was I kneeling before a furious crowd, accused of a crime I had never committed? What did I do wrong?.
A man stood behind me, dressed in an immaculate formal uniform decorated with silver embroidery. His dark coat was spotless, his boots polished, and not a single strand of his neatly arranged hair seemed out of place.
Lord Gabriel Lucian. A man whose name carried considerable weight in the kingdom of Basrot.
He raised one hand. The crowd gradually fell silent. Gabriel waited until the last murmurs had faded before speaking. His voice was powerful, practiced, and perfectly suited to addressing a crowd.
"I am Lord Gabriel Lucian, and I stand before you tonight as a representative of our kingdom's authority. It is my duty to ensure that justice is served and that those who betray our homeland receive the punishment they deserve."
He paused, allowing his words to settle over the crowd. "Today, we gather to deliver justice to a man who abandoned his loyalty, betrayed his comrades, and sold the secrets of our kingdom to our enemies."
His hand settled on my shoulder. "Arthur Everon, a former soldier of the royal army, stands accused of treason against the Kingdom of Basrot."
"He is alleged to have provided confidential military information to the neighboring Kingdom of Glaskory, endangering the lives of our soldiers and threatening the safety of our citizens."
Gabriel leaned forward slightly, his expression solemn. "After reviewing the evidence and hearing the testimony of a reliable witness, the court has reached its verdict."
He straightened. "Death by hanging."
The crowd erupted. "Hang him!"
"Let the traitor die!"
"Justice for Basrot!"
Gabriel's hand tightened on my shoulder.
"Arthur Everon," his tone almost courteous, "do you have any final words before your sentence is carried out?"
I slowly lifted my head. "I didn't do anything." My voice was so quiet that I wasn't sure he had heard me. "I left everything behind," I continued. "The army. The city. My former comrades. Politics. All of it. I wanted nothing to do with any of you anymore."
My gaze drifted across the crowd.
"Can someone explain what I supposedly gained from betraying this kingdom? Money? A title? Influence?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "I gave up all those things years ago. All I wanted was to live out the rest of my life in peace."
For a fleeting moment, a few people in the crowd seemed uncertain. Gabriel noticed their hesitation. Naturally, he couldn't allow it to last.
"We have a witness," he declared. "Someone who personally saw this man transmitting confidential information to the Kingdom of Glaskory." He turned toward the edge of the platform. "Oliver, come forward."
A young man emerged from the crowd. Oliver. My childhood friend.
The boy who had once followed me everywhere, who had shared his meals with me when we were too poor to afford our own, who had sworn that no matter what happened, we would always stand together.
He climbed onto the platform and stopped beside Gabriel. Then he looked at me. His eyes were familiar. His smile was not. One corner of his mouth lifted into a small, self-satisfied smirk.
"I'm sorry, Arthur," he said. "I know we've been friends since childhood, But I had to choose between our friendship and the safety of this kingdom." He lowered his head, performing an imitation of remorse. "I chose the kingdom."
Gabriel placed a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "You did the right thing, Oliver. Your courage has saved our kingdom from disaster. Without your testimony, this traitor might have continued selling our secrets to our enemies."
He turned toward the crowd. "Because of Oliver's actions, countless innocent lives may have been spared. I will personally speak to His Majesty and ensure that his service is rewarded with a promotion worthy of his contribution."
Oliver's smile widened. "Thank you, Father."
I looked from Oliver to Gabriel. Ah…So that was how it was. The pieces began falling into place with an almost insulting ease.
"Did you make all of this up? Did you betray me for a promotion? You were my friend.I trusted you…I never expected this from you."
Gabriel stepped between us. "That is enough!" His voice cracked across the platform, "There is a witness, and there is evidence. Your pathetic attempts to save yourself will change nothing."
I looked at him. Then, unexpectedly, I laughed. It began as a small, breathless sound. Then it grew louder. I couldn't help it. The situation was so absurd that, for a moment, I genuinely wondered whether I had somehow wandered into a particularly terrible play.
"So that's it. Now I understand. A father and son, both hungry for power. One provides the accusation, the other supplies the testimony, and together you manufacture a hero and a villain."
The crowd began murmuring again. I continued. "You needed someone to blame. Someone whose death would make you look powerful, decisive, and loyal to the crown. And you needed a reward for the son who helped you arrange everything."
I turned toward Oliver. "You want to climb higher, don't you? You want the king's favor. A position at court." I laughed again, though this time the sound hurt my throat. "And I was simply the perfect scapegoat."
The crowd shifted uneasily. "What is he talking about?"
"Could Lord Gabriel really have arranged this?"
"Wait… what if Arthur is innocent?"
"Did the court actually investigate the evidence?"
Their voices overlapped, uncertainty spreading through the crowd like a crack in glass. Gabriel saw it too. His expression darkened.
"Silence!"
The command rang across the square. The crowd fell quiet, though several people continued exchanging suspicious glances.
Gabriel stepped forward, his polished boots striking the wooden boards. "Are you truly going to believe the words of a traitor?" he demanded. "A man who sold his own kingdom for a handful of coins?"
He gestured toward me with open contempt. "This is the desperate babbling of a condemned criminal. He knows his death is near, so he will say anything to turn you against the people who protect you."
He let the silence stretch.
"Do not allow a traitor's lies to weaken your faith in Basrot." Gabriel turned toward two soldiers standing beside the execution platform.
"Take him." His expression became cold. "Hang this traitor."
The soldiers seized my arms and hauled me upright. they dragged my bound body toward the gallows. I stumbled once, catching myself against the wooden post. One of the soldiers shoved me forward. "Move."
The noose hung from the wooden beam above us. A thick, coarse rope. An ordinary object. It seemed ridiculous that something so simple could end a human life.
The soldiers forced me to stand beneath it. One of them pulled the rope over my head and tightened it around my neck. The fibers scratched my skin.
I swallowed instinctively, suddenly aware of every small movement in my throat. The rope shifted with me. I stopped moving. A strange stillness settled over my mind…So this was it.
After everything I had endured, after all those years of deliberately keeping my life small and quiet, I was going to die because a nobleman wanted a better position for his son.
I couldn't decide whether that was tragic or merely pathetic.
Footsteps approached. Oliver stopped in front of me.
Up close, I could see the faint flush of excitement on his cheeks. He tried to conceal it beneath an expression of regret, but his eyes betrayed him.
He leaned closer.
"I'm sorry, Arthur." He lowered his voice until only I could hear him. "But I need to get closer to the king. I need his trust. Once I have a high enough position, maybe I can marry his daughter and become king myself."
He paused. His lips curled into that same smug smile. "So if you ever truly considered me your friend…" He leaned even closer.
"Die for me."
For a moment, I heard nothing. Only the faint sound of my own breathing against the rope …Die for you?
he was asking me to die for him. Not for the kingdom. Not for justice…But For his ambition.
I looked into his eyes. "I hope you get everything you want," I whispered.
Oliver's smile widened, mistaking my words for surrender.
I continued in a quiet voice. " But remember one thing: I will come back for you and I will take my revenge, And I will destroy everything , so don't die before then—just wait for me."
For the first time, his expression faltered. Then he stepped away.
The crowd began shouting again. "Kill the traitor!"
"Hang him!"
"Justice for Basrot!"
Their voices rose and fell in a deafening chorus. Gabriel stood beside the execution mechanism, his face composed and dignified. He raised one hand.
I watched the movement with distant fascination. Somewhere beneath the fear, beneath the anger and disbelief, a detached part of my mind began observing everything as if it were happening to someone else.
The wooden platform beneath my feet. The rough rope against my neck. The blood drying on my face. The people waiting to celebrate my death.
I sighed and whispered. "What a miserable way to die."
Morrivayne voice stirred inside my mind. "I feel sorry for you, my little puppy." Her voice was quieter than usual. "If you're lucky, your neck will break immediately, and you'll die before you have time to understand what's happening."
A pause… "If you're unlucky…You'll suffer for several minutes. You'll struggle to breathe, your body will fight desperately for survival, and you'll slowly lose consciousness as your lungs run out of air."
"You have a remarkable talent for making terrible situations worse."
"I'm only being honest, little puppy. Would you prefer that I lie to you?"
I didn't answer. Because, irritatingly, she had a point.
Gabriel lowered his hand slightly and glanced toward the soldier operating the mechanism.
The soldier looked back at him and nodded.
My heartbeat quickened. I haven't died by hanging. I tried to take a deep breath. The rope pressed against my throat. I swallowed, but the movement made the fibers scrape my skin.
the reality of my situation settled over me completely. I was going to die. I was going to die because two ambitious men had decided that my life was worth less than their future.
Damn you, you fucking goddess!
The soldier pulled the lever. There was a sudden mechanical clank. Then the wooden floor vanished beneath my feet.
For one brief, terrible instant, my body dropped into empty space. The rope snapped taut. Pain exploded through my neck.
My entire body jerked violently, and a strangled sound escaped my throat. The sudden pressure crushed my windpipe, cutting off the breath I had been trying to draw. My neck did not break.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could feel was the rope tightening around my neck, digging into the soft flesh beneath my jaw.
My hands were bound behind my back. I twisted my wrists desperately, trying to pull them free, but the restraints only cut deeper into my skin.
Instinct took over. I clawed at the air, my fingers opening and closing uselessly behind me. My legs kicked wildly, searching for something solid, something to push against, anything that might lift the terrible weight from my neck. There was nothing.
I tried to raise my hands. I needed to reach my throat. I needed to tear the rope away. My fingers strained against the bindings until my wrists burned, but I couldn't bring them forward.
The rope remained fixed around my neck.
Every desperate movement made it bite deeper. I tried to inhale. My chest convulsed, demanding air that wouldn't come.
A thin, broken sound escaped my throat.
My eyes widened as panic surged through me. My body screamed at me to breathe. Just breathe! I couldn't.
The world began to blur at the edges. The crowd was still shouting. I could hear them. I could hear every single one of them.
"Die, traitor!"
"Justice!"
"Hang him!"
I had imagined that people might look away when the condemned began to suffer. That some would feel uncomfortable.
I was wrong. Faces stared up at me. Some looked angry. Some looked satisfied. And some—Some were smiling. They were celebrating. Celebrating the fact that I was suffering. That I was dying.
If I had my abilities and my power , I would have killed every single one of them. I had never hated humanity before until today.
My vision swam, and tears blurred the faces before me. My lungs burned. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, fast and frantic, each beat seeming to strike harder than the last.
"It is very painful."
"Hold on a little longer," said Morrivayne, "you will die in a few seconds."
My body refused to surrender. It didn't care that my mind understood the hopelessness of the situation. It didn't care that I had already accepted my death.
My vision darkened. The faces below me dissolved into indistinct shapes, their voices becoming distant and distorted. my body had begun to weaken.
The last thing I saw clearly was Oliver. He stood beside his father, watching me with a faint smile. Not a trace of regret crossed his face. He looked satisfied. Pleased.
I stared at him until the darkness swallowed his face. I hope you choke on your ambition. It was the last coherent thought I managed.
Then everything went black.
For several seconds, there was nothing. Only darkness. And then, from somewhere far away, I heard a voice. A familiar voice.
"Riven…"
It sounded distant, muffled, as though it were coming from the bottom of a deep well.
"Riven, wake up."
Morrivayne?
I tried to answer, but I couldn't find my voice.
Something was wrong. There was still pressure around my neck. My lungs were burning. I couldn't breathe.
I was no longer standing above a cheering crowd. I was somewhere else. I couldn't understand where. I couldn't understand why.
All I knew was that something was choking me. My hands flew toward my throat. Fingers closed around my own skin. I clawed desperately at the invisible rope, nails scraping across my neck as I tried to tear it away.
I needed air. Why couldn't I breathe?
Someone grabbed my wrists. "Riven! Please, stop! You're hurting yourself!"
A woman's voice. Frightened. Urgent. I barely heard her.
My vision was swimming, my heart hammering against my ribs. I couldn't feel anything except the crushing pressure around my throat.
I tried to wrench my hands free. The person holding me tightened her grip. "Riven, open your eyes! Please!"
I couldn't. Or perhaps I already had. I don't know. The gallows were still there. I could still feel the rope. I could still hear the crowd. They're still here. They're still cheering. I'm still dying.
I shoved the person away with all the strength I could muster. I immediately seized my throat again, scraping my fingernails against my skin until it stung. My breath came in short, broken gasps that seemed to accomplish nothing.
"No… I can't…" My voice was barely recognizable. "I can't breathe. I'm choking—" I clawed harder. "Get it off! Get it off me!"
"Raven!" The woman rushed toward me again.
This time, she caught both my hands and held them firmly away from my neck. "Stop it!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "Raven, stop hurting yourself!"
I struggled against her. "Let go!"
"Raven. Look at me!"
"I ca… I can't breathe!"
"Look at me, damn it!" She shook my hands, forcing my attention toward her. "Raven! Look at me!"
Something in her voice broke through the chaos.
My gaze lifted. Blue eyes stared back at me, wide with fear and concern. A familiar face hovered before mine, pale beneath the dim light of the room.
My master.
For a moment, I couldn't understand what I was seeing. Why was she here? Why was she holding my hands? Where was the gallows? Where was the crowd?
"Raven," Elyra said, her voice softer now, though her grip remained firm. "Listen to me. You're safe. You're here with me."
I shook my head violently.
"Yes. You're safe."
"No, the rope—"
"There is no rope."
She glanced briefly at my bleeding neck, then looked directly into my eyes again. "It was a nightmare. A terrible nightmare, that's all. You're awake now."
A nightmare. The words drifted through my mind without meaning.
I could still feel the rope. I could still feel the crushing pressure against my throat. I could still hear those people shouting for my death. Every sensation remained carved into my body and my soul.
Master nelt in front of me, refusing to release my hands. "Look at me, Raven. Focus on my voice."
I tried. But my lungs seemed to have forgotten how to work. My chest rose sharply. I dragged in a breath, only for it to catch halfway, leaving me gasping. My heart pounded so violently that I could feel it in my fingertips.
"That's it," master whispered. "Try again. Slowly. Don't force it."
I shook my head, panic rising once more. "I can't…"
"You can."Her voice was steady, but I could see the fear she was trying to hide. "Take a small breath. Just a little one. You don't have to take a deep breath. Slowly, Raven."
I tried again. A thin stream of air entered my lungs. I needed more. I tried to inhale deeply, but my chest tightened, and the breath broke apart into another ragged gasp.
Master's hands tightened around mine. "Again. A little at a time."
Morrivayne's voice cut through the panic. "Raven, pull yourself together. You've returned to your body. You're here. Now breathe, or you'll actually suffocate."
I squeezed my eyes shut. Her words were harsh.
I've returned…The realization struck me. I was back. Back in my own body. After living as Arthur for seven years. Seven fucking years. My fingers trembled violently in master's grasp.
I drew in a shallow breath and finally the air reached my lungs without catching. I inhaled again. My heartbeat remained dangerously fast, but the air was finally reaching my lungs.
I could breathe. My strength vanished all at once. I collapsed onto my knees, my hands still trembling in master's grasp. I bowed my head and concentrated on the simple, miraculous act of breathing.
Master slowly released my hands "Riven…" she whispered.
I pressed a trembling hand against my throat.
There was no rope. But Blood covered my fingers. I am bleeding?.
"Come on. Let's get you onto the sofa first." My master slipped an arm around mine and helped me stand.
My legs still felt strangely unsteady, but I managed to follow her to the sofa without collapsing again.
The moment I sat down, she knelt in front of me. "Let me examine your neck." she gently lifted my chin. "You've hurt yourself quite badly, Keep your head up a little. I need to see the whole area."
I obeyed silently.
Her fingers moved carefully along my throat, checking for swelling or other injuries. After a moment, her shoulders relaxed.
"That's good. There are no open wounds, at least. Your healing ability has improved considerably."
She examined my neck once more before finally looking into my eyes. "Are you feeling better now?"
I nodded. It wasn't entirely a lie. the overwhelming panic had begun to fade. But every time I swallowed, I could almost feel its rough fibers pressing against my skin. Still, I had no intention of telling her that.
She studied me for another moment and said. "Stay here. I'll fetch some water and a towel so I can clean the blood off your face and neck.
She rose and headed toward the kitchen. The moment she disappeared through the doorway, Morrivayne's voice sounded inside my mind.
"How are you feeling now, little puppy?"
I lifted a hand to my throat and touched it cautiously. The skin was tender beneath my fingertips.
"My neck hurts like hell, It feels as though there's still a rope wrapped around it. And my lungs burn every time I breathe."
"Don't worry. That's normal."
"Normal? I had experienced a great many unpleasant Death in my various lives, but waking up convinced that I was being strangled to death was a new one."
"You could try explaining what you mean instead of telling me not to worry."
"I'll explain everything later."
"How reassuring."
Morrivayne gave a quiet, amused hum. "You're welcome, little puppy."
master returned with a bowl of warm water and a clean towel. "Don't move," she instructed, sitting beside me. "Let me help you clean this up. Lift your head a little."
She dipped the towel into the water, wrung it out, and carefully wiped the blood from my neck .and I winced when she touched the tender skin.
"Sorry," she murmured. "I'll be more careful."
I found myself staring at her.
My master eventually noticed my gaze. She paused. "Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is there something on my face?"
"It's just…" I looked at her for another moment. "I feel as though I haven't seen you in years."
She blinked. Then a small smile appeared on her face. "Years? Raven, you've only been asleep for a few hours."
I let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Yes. A few hours." If only she knew.
master resumed cleaning. "Now, don't move. I'm almost finished." without looking up, she asked, "Would you like to tell me about the nightmare that caused all this?"
My expression remained unchanged. "I don't know. I can't remember anything."
she studied me for a moment before returning to the task. "That's all right," she said gently. "You don't have to force yourself to remember something unpleasant. But If you ever do remember it, and you want to talk about it, you know where to find me."
I lowered my eyes. "Thank you." The words came out quieter than I intended.
She hummed in acknowledgment and continued cleaning. For a little while, I thought that would be the end of it.
Then she suddenly stopped. "Wait." She leaned closer, examining the side of my neck. "What's this?" She carefully moved a few strands of my hair away. "There are purple marks around your neck."
I stiffened almost imperceptibly.
She turned my head slightly. "Turn a little more. Let me see the back." Her expression grew more serious as she examined the marks extending around my throat. "They go all the way around,"
I shrugged as casually as I could. " Perhaps these are scratch marks."
"No." She touched the skin lightly, and I resisted the urge to flinch. "These aren't scratches." She leaned back slightly. "They look like…" Her eyes widened a fraction. "Like the marks left by a rope."
Silence fell between us.
Then she caught my hand before I could move it away. "Raven. Earlier, when you were panicking, you kept saying that you couldn't breathe because there was a rope around your neck. You were trying to tear something away from your throat."
She held my gaze. "Tell me what's happening to you."
I looked at her and gently withdrew my hand. "A rope?" I tilted my head, feigning confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Her eyes narrowed. I gave her a small smile. "Maybe the book I was reading left a mark. I fell asleep on the sofa with it beneath my head."
she stared at me. Then her expression darkened. "Raven, this is not the time for jokes. This isn't a mark from a book," she continued. "And I'm not going to pretend that what happened earlier was ordinary."
She set the towel aside. "I'm your master. I have every right to ask what's going on, especially when you wake up screaming, clawing at your own throat, and nearly hurt yourself."
Her voice softened slightly, but the sternness remained. "And I expect you not to lie to me."
I fell silent for seconds then I sighed. "I genuinely don't know what these marks are."
I lowered my gaze, allowing my shoulders to slump slightly. "As for the nightmares… They've been happening for a while. Only occasionally at first, but lately they've become more frequent. Almost every night."
"I didn't want the children at the orphanage to see me like this," I continued. "I thought it would frighten them, so I came here instead." I lowered my head further. "I didn't want anyone to worry."
The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
I could feel her watching me, searching for the cracks in my explanation.
Then Morrivayne's voice drifted through my mind.
"You're a remarkably talented liar. Why not tell her the truth?"
"Because I don't want to."
"Or perhaps you're afraid she'll start looking at you differently."
I didn't answer.
Morrivayne chuckled. "Ah. I see. You're worried she'll fear you. Or perhaps she'll hate you once she learns what you're becoming."
My expression remained still. "That's not it. I didn't care whether people hated me."
"I had never lived my lives for the sake of earning affection or approval. I wasn't trying to win the world's love, and I certainly wasn't going to abandon my goals just to maintain a pleasant image. I had one clear objective. Become stronger."
"Of course," Morrivayne murmured, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, little puppy."
My master placed a hand on my shoulder. "Nightmares?" she asked. "What do you dream about? Is someone chasing you? Are you fighting monsters? Or is it something else?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. When I wake up, I forget everything. I only remember that it was unpleasant."
"All right. I won't force you to tell me." Her hand gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "But listen to me, Raven. Whatever is happening, you don't have to deal with it alone."
I looked at her. She smiled faintly. "Everything will be all right."
"Thank you."
She patted my shoulder. "Now, the water is warm, and you need a proper bath. Go wash up while I prepare breakfast."
I nodded. I glanced toward the floor, where my little white fox lay curled into a ball, sleeping peacefully. I leaned forward and carefully lifted her into my arms. I placed her gently on the sofa and stood.
Then I headed toward the bathroom, closing the door behind me. The moment I was alone, my expression changed. The faint smile disappeared. I walked straight toward the mirror.
And froze. A series of dark red and purple marks encircled my neck. They weren't faint. They formed a complete ring, with darker bruising along the front and sides of my throat.
Slowly, I raised my hand. My fingertips hovered over the marks before touching them. Pain shot through my neck. I flinched and immediately pulled my hand away.
"What the hell…?"
I leaned closer to the mirror. The marks were unmistakable. They looked exactly like the bruising left by a noose. My stomach tightened.
"Morrivayne."
"Yes?"
I stared at my reflection. "Tell me the truth…Are these marks from the rope?"
A brief silence followed. Then Morrivayne answered. "Yes. They're marks left by a noose."
My mind struggled to process the answer. "But how?" I touched the bruising again, more cautiously this time. "How did something that happened in another life leave a physical injury on this body?"
"Because the injury followed your soul when it returned to your body."
"When you experienced that death, your soul didn't simply observe it. You lived through it. The terror, the pain, the desperate struggle to survive… all of it was real."
"When your soul returned to this body, it carried the imprint of that experience with it. Under ordinary circumstances, such impressions would remain memories. But your condition is not ordinary."
I turned away from the mirror, trying to make sense of her words. "So I'll carry injuries from my lives every time I die?"
"Not every injury." Her answer came quickly. "It's more complicated than that. Most injuries won't follow you. What happened this time is different because of the intensity of your emotional state."
"What do you mean?"
"You were terrified, furious, and utterly helpless. But your emotions weren't simply intense. You were overwhelmed by them. You couldn't contain what you were feeling, and when you died, those emotions left a deep imprint on your soul."
"When you returned to your body, that imprint manifested physically. Your soul carried the memory of the noose, and your body reflected it."
I stared at the bruises again. They weren't merely a reminder of my death. They were proof that the boundaries between my lives were becoming less certain. I pressed my lips together.
"Does that mean it could happen again?"
"Yes. If you experience another death under similarly extreme emotional conditions, another injury could follow you back. The nature and severity of the manifestation may differ, but the possibility exists."
My jaw tightened. I gripped the edge of the sink. My gaze remained fixed on the bruising around my throat.
Morrivayne's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Can I ask you something, little puppy?"
"What?"
"Why were you so angry at that time.? I mean, you were obviously terrified. Anyone would be. But your anger was different. It was intense enough to leave a physical imprint on your soul."
"…Because they were celebrating، celebrating My death. They were standing there, watching an innocent man die, and they were cheering as if they'd accomplished something wonderful."
My fingers curled into fists. My voice grew quieter. "And when they saw me struggling to breathe, they were happy." I clenched my teeth. "If I had possessed my powers in that moment, I would have killed them all."
Morrivayne laughed. "Good grief, Raven. Have you seen your expression? You look terrifying. Your eyes are practically burning."
I said nothing. Morrivayne laughed again.
"Honestly, I can't blame you. If I had been in your position, I might have killed them all too. no, I definitely would have."
I clenched my fists. "I need to use that spell soon."
Morrivayne didn't answer immediately. Then she said, more seriously than before, "You should. But not recklessly. The Spiritual Forge is not something you can rush just because you're frightened of what comes next."
"I know."
Then I looked at my neck one last time. I turned away from the mirror and reached for the bathwater.
The bath helped more than I expected. then changed into clean clothes. The marks around my neck remained visible, but I covered them with a high collar.
When I returned to the kitchen, master had already begun preparing breakfast. The smell of freshly cooked food filled the room.
"You're just in time," Elyra said without looking up. "Sit down before everything gets cold."
I obeyed.
Breakfast passed peacefully, interrupted only by my master's occasional reminders to eat more and the fox's increasingly creative attempts to steal food from my plate.
For a little while, I allowed myself to forget about the nightmare. I listened to master talk about her work, answered her questions about my time away.
Eventually, I finished my meal and rose from the table. "I have to go. I have a training appointment with the princess and Kara."
She gave me a knowing look. "Of course you do. Heaven forbid you spend an entire morning resting."
"I rested."
"You collapsed on my sofa."
I offered her my most innocent smile. "I'm fine."
Master sighed, clearly unconvinced. Then she reached out and adjusted the collar of my shirt, ensuring that the marks on my neck were covered. "Very well. Go to your training. But don't push yourself too hard today."
"I won't."
She gave me a stern look. "Go on, then. And come back later. You are staying here for while."
"I will."
I picked up my belongings and headed toward the door. The fox trotted after me, clearly intending to accompany me wherever I went. I carried her.
I started down the road. By the time I reached the front gate, neither Princess Lyria nor Kara had arrived.
I glanced at the sky. Still early. I found an empty wooden bench near the gate and sat down, settling my little white fox comfortably in my lap.
She curled up almost immediately, her fluffy tail wrapping around herself as she closed her eyes. My fingers drifted toward my neck. The moment I touched the bruises, a sharp pain spread beneath my skin. I winced.
"Damn it."
It had been several hours since I woke up from that nightmare, yet the marks showed no sign of disappearing. Every time I turned my head too quickly, spoke too much, or swallowed, the pain reminded me that something was terribly wrong.
I had already tried both Regeneration and Healing. Neither had worked. I lowered my hand and addressed the one person who might have an explanation.
"Morrivayne, why can't I heal this?"
She floated lazily beside the bench, her long crimson hair drifting around her like flames suspended in water. She looked entirely unbothered by my suffering.
"Because a soul wound is different from a physical wound, little puppy." She folded her arms and drifted upside down. "neither can simply erase an injury that originates from your soul."
I frowned. "Wonderful." I pressed my fingers against my throat again, only to regret it immediately. "Damn it, this really hurts. I can't even turn my head properly."
Morrivayne floated in front of me.
Then, with a mischievous smile, she placed one finger beneath my chin and tilted my face upward.
"But, my little puppy, there's something you should understand."
"If the soul injury is serious enough, it may leave a permanent scar. In more extreme cases, it could even become life-threatening."
She smiled wider. "So, the next time you die, perhaps try controlling your emotions a little better."
I slowly lowered my chin. "Thank you for the wonderful advice."
"Anytime."
"I'll be sure to remember it the next time someone hangs me in front of an angry crowd, Or when I am burned alive, or torn to pieces and eaten alive by beasts.."
"Excellent. I'm glad we're making progress."
I gave her a flat look. She laughed.
I sighed and leaned back against the bench, trying to find a position that didn't aggravate my neck. It was impossible.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
A small movement in my lap distracted me. My fox had awakened. She stretched, yawned, and climbed up my chest before settling comfortably on my shoulder. I adjusted my posture to accommodate her.
"Comfortable?"
She made a tiny sound and pressed her face against my cheek. Apparently, that was a yes.
Then she began tugging at the collar of my shirt. I caught the fabric before she could pull it down.
"No."
She tugged again. I gently pushed her head away. "Absolutely not. Whatever you're trying to accomplish, the answer is no."
She looked at me with an expression of pure innocence. I didn't trust it for a second. I pulled my collar higher and scratched behind her ears.
"Behave yourself. We don't want anyone seeing the marks on my neck." Her ears twitched. "And don't you dare pull my clothes down again."
She promptly began grooming her paw, apparently deciding that I was being unreasonable. I had just settled back into a tolerable position when I noticed two familiar figures approaching the gate.
Princess Lyria and Kara. I straightened slightly and adjusted my collar one last time.
Princess Lyria spotted me first. She quickened her pace, with Kara following behind her. "Are we late?" Lyria asked as they reached the bench.
"No. You're not late. I'm the one who arrived early."
Princess Lyria released a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought we'd kept you waiting."
Then she smiled at me. "Good morning, Raven. How are you today?"
"Good morning . I'm fine, thank you for asking." The answer came out automatically.
Princess's smile softened. Then her attention shifted to the little fox sitting on my shoulder. "Oh! I see you've brought a friend."
She reached out and gently patted the fox's head. The little creature accepted the attention with the dignity of a queen receiving tribute.
Kara glanced between us. "All right, Raven. Is the Gate far from here?"
"No. It's actually closer than the last one. We won't need horses."
"Perfect." Kara rolled her shoulders. "Then let's get moving before Lyria decides she needs another breakfast."
"I heard that!" Princess Lyria protested.
"Good. It was meant to be heard."
I stood carefully, keeping my head as still as possible. We started toward the road leading out of the city. "Let's move."
Neither of them noticed anything unusual. For the moment, that was good enough. The three of us left the city and followed a narrow road bordered by grass and scattered trees.
I walked in front, keeping my pace steady. Behind me, Kara and princess chatted about the previous training session, occasionally arguing over whether Kara had given Lyria too much advice or not enough.
I paid little attention. My mind was elsewhere. I was thinking about the Spiritual Forge. About the enormous amount of energy it would require.
About the possibility of destroying my soul if I lost concentration for even a moment. And about the fact that I had no idea whether it would actually work. A pleasant collection of concerns.
"Hey, Raven?" Princess's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Hmm?"
She had moved from behind me to walk at my side. "Are you all right?"
I glanced at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. You seem different today."
I raised an eyebrow. "Different?"
"It's difficult to explain."She looked at me thoughtfully. "You're quieter than usual. And you seem distracted. Normally, you have something sarcastic to say whenever Kara and I argue."
From behind us, Kara immediately chimed in. "She does have a point. You've barely insulted me all morning. I'm starting to feel neglected."
The Princess, however, continued studying me. "I'm serious, Raven."
I looked at her for several seconds. "I told you," I said calmly. "I'm fine."
Princess Lyria didn't look convinced. I turned my attention back to the road. "And we've arrived."
Ahead of us, a familiar structure shimmered between the trees. "This is another E-Rank Gate," I explained. "The same rank as the previous one. We'll follow the same plan as last time."
I turned toward the princess. "You'll fight the monsters one at a time. Focus on your technique, conserve your stamina, and don't waste mana trying to finish every fight in a single strike. And the boss. Kara will handle it."
Lyria's expression fell. "But I think I can beat it!"
"You're not ready yet."
The princess ooked toward the Gate. After a moment, she nodded.
Kara gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll get your chance."
I stepped toward the shimmering entrance. "Are you both ready?"
"Yes," they answered.
We entered the dungeon. Princess Lyria's improvement was obvious.
She moved with greater confidence, reacted faster, and wasted fewer movements. Where she had previously relied on raw determination to push through difficult fights, she was beginning to understand how to control the pace of a battle.
More importantly, she was learning when not to attack. That was a lesson many talented fighters failed to grasp.
we reached the boss chamber, The boss emerged from the darkness. A massive creature covered in thick, jagged plates, with glowing eyes and claws capable of tearing through stone.
The battle was short but fierce. The boss crashed to the ground. Silence filled the chamber. Kara rested her weapon against her shoulder.
"Done."
With the boss defeated, we collected what we needed and made our way out of the dungeon.
Princess Lyria looked up at the sky, then turned toward us with an excited smile. "We finished much earlier than last time!"
Kara stretched her arms above her head. "And I'm starving."
Princess clasped her hands together. "Why don't we go to a tavern? We can eat something before heading back. I don't think I've ever been this hungry after training."
Kara immediately agreed. "Absolutely. I could eat an entire roast beast right now."
I glanced at them. I had intended to return to Master Elyra's house as soon as possible. I crouched to pick up my fox, who had been following us throughout the dungeon with an impressive lack of interest in the actual fighting.
As I bent down, the collar of my shirt slipped slightly. I didn't notice.
Kara did. Her eyes suddenly widened with excitement. "Wait a minute." She pointed at my neck. "Raven! Is that a hickey?"
Silence.
Princess Lyria froze. Then she turned toward me so quickly that I was genuinely concerned she might hurt herself. "What?! A hickey?!"
I stared at both of them. For several seconds, I couldn't find a single appropriate response. I pulled my collar upward. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Kara's grin widened. "Oh, come on. Don't be embarrassed!" She leaned closer, examining the visible edge of the mark. "So, who is it? Someone from the city? Someone you met while we were away? Is it a man or a woman?"
Princess Lyria looked as though someone had just informed her that the world was ending. "Raven… you have someone?"
I glanced at her. Her expression was almost comically shocked.
Kara gave me a playful nudge. "Come on, Raven. You can tell us. We won't judge you." Kara looked delighted.
"I'll say it once more," I said evenly. "There is nothing to tell."
Kara placed a hand on my shoulder. "Don't be shy, Raven. Let me see."
Before I could stop her, she tugged my collar downward. Her grin vanished. Her eyes widened. For a moment, she simply stared. Then her expression changed completely.
"Raven…" Her voice had lost its teasing quality. "What are these marks?"
I immediately pulled my collar back into place. "Nothing."
She moved around me, trying to get a better look at the back of my neck. "Wait. They're all the way around." Her voice became quieter. "Raven, these aren't hickeys."
I brushed her hand away. "It's nothing."
But she was no longer amused. "Those look like bruises."
Princess Lyria stepped closer. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"Raven." Her voice was different now.
I turned away. "Let's go back to the city."
Princess caught my hand. "Raven, Please let me see your neck."
I glanced at her. "There's nothing to see."
I tried to pull my hand away. Her grip tightened. "Raven." This time, there was anger in her voice. "Let me see."
I stared at her for a moment. Then I sighed. I lowered my collar. Her eyes widened.
The bruises encircled my neck, dark purple and red against my skin. Some areas were more deeply discolored than others, particularly along the front and sides.
She reached toward them instinctively. Her fingertips barely touched my skin before I flinched. Pain shot through my throat. She immediately withdrew her hand.
"I'm sorry!" She looked horrified. "Does it hurt that much?"
"Only when I move my head or talk."
Both of them stared at me. Kara's expression had become unusually serious. "Raven, what happened to you?"
I pulled my collar back up. "I encountered a powerful monster yesterday. That's all."
Princess frowned. "But I've seen you take injuries much worse than this.." She looked at my neck again. "Your injuries usually heal within hours. Why haven't these healed?"
I had no answer I could safely give her. Instead, I said, "I don't know. But It'll heal eventually."
She looked unconvinced. "Raven—"
"Let's go." I adjusted my collar and picked up my fox, settling her on my shoulder.
Kara glanced at the princess , then back at me.
Neither seemed satisfied. But they finally began walking.
After a few steps, princess moved beside me again. "You said it hurts when you talk," she murmured. "So don't talk too much, all right?"
I glanced at her and nodded slightly.
"And does it hurt when you eat?"
"No. I can eat."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She fell silent for a moment. Then she spoke again, more quietly. "Please don't hide it if the pain gets worse." There was genuine worry in her eyes.
I gave her a small smile. "Don't worry. I'm fine."
Princess Lyria looked as though she wanted to argue. Instead, she nodded reluctantly.
We continued toward the city. Maria's tavern was quieter than usual when we arrived.
Princess Lyria entered first, followed by Kara.
I stepped inside last. Maria was behind the counter, wiping down a wooden mug. The moment she looked up and recognized the princess, her eyes widened. "Your Highness?!"
Princess Lyria smiled politely. "Good afternoon, Mrs Maria."
Maria nearly dropped the mug. "W-what are you doing here?"
"Having lunch."
"Lunch… right. Of course."
Maria looked between the princess , Kara, and me as though she were trying to understand how the three of us had ended up in her tavern together.
Then she hurried toward us. "Please, sit wherever you'd like! I'll have something prepared immediately!"
"Thank you," princess replied.
We found a table in a quiet corner. I sat with my back to the wall, while princess Lyria and Kara took the seats opposite me. Maria brought us food, still looking faintly stunned every time she glanced toward the princess.
Kara wasted no time digging in. Princess Lyria ate more slowly, occasionally looking at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention. I pretended not to notice.
The food was good, and for a little while, the conversation remained pleasantly ordinary.
When we finally finished eating, I rose from my seat. "Thank you for the meal, Maria."
Maria bowed hurriedly. "Of course, Raven! Please come again!"
I glanced at the princess and Kara. "I need to return to my master's house. There's something I have to prepare."
Kara waved a hand. "Don't overwork yourself until you heal."
Princess Lyria, however, stood. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes."
She hesitated, then nodded. "All right. But promise you'll tell us if anything happens."
I offered her a small smile. After saying our goodbyes, I left the tavern and headed toward Master Elyra's house.
By the time I reached Elyra's house, my decision was firm. I opened the door and stepped inside. The house was quiet. master was still away. Good.
I closed the door behind me and stood in the silence for a moment. Then I took a book out of Void Storage and placed it on a table.
I placed the little fox on a sofa and said. "Stay close, but don't get in my way." She wagged her tail. I wasn't sure she understood a word I said.
I sat on the floor in the middle of a room and opened a book. I turned the page. The Spiritual Forge. I ran my fingers over the title.
Morrivayne appeared beside me, her expression unusually solemn. "Once you begin, you cannot afford to lose concentration. Do you understand?"
"I do."
"And if the energy destabilizes, you stop. You do not stubbornly push through it simply because you're afraid of failure."
Morrivayne's voice interrupted the silence of Master Elyra's house. "Hey, Raven. Why don't you try sitting down and meditating before we begin the spell, just in case?"
"Try clearing your mind of every thought, The first stage depends entirely on mental clarity. If you cannot control your thoughts, you will never succeed in controlling the energy required for the Spiritual Forge."
I closed the book. I placed it on the floor in front of me, crossed my legs, straightened my back, and closed my eyes.
"Fine."
"Now," Morrivayne instructed, her voice unusually serious, "relax. Let your shoulders fall naturally. Breathe slowly, and empty your mind of everything."
I inhaled. Then exhaled. I relaxed my shoulders and tried to let go of my thoughts. The room became quiet. I could hear the faint rustling of leaves outside the window and the occasional creak of the old wooden house.
For a few moments, everything seemed peaceful. Empty your mind. Simple enough. sitting still and thinking about nothing couldn't be that difficult.
Several minutes passed. My eyebrows slowly drew together. How long am I supposed to sit here?
I immediately caught myself. No. Stop thinking. I took another breath. Just breathe. Nothing else. A few minutes passed. Am I doing it correctly? My eyes twitched.
"Raven. Stop thinking."
"I am trying."
"Then try harder."
I opened my eyes. "Do you have any idea how unhelpful that advice is?"
"Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to watch you struggle with something so simple?"
I am going to strangle her one day. I closed my eye again.
"Raven."
"I'm not thinking about anything!"
"You just thought about strangling me."
I opened both eyes. Morrivayne smiled. I stared at her. Can she hear my thoughts now?
She stared back. " yes. I can hear you."
"Wonderful. Just wonderful."
" just shut up and Close your eyes."
I obeyed, mostly because arguing with her was apparently another excellent way to fill my head with unnecessary thoughts. I tried again. And again.
I lost track of how many times I had attempted to empty my mind. Every time I managed to quiet one thought, another appeared to take its place.
the more desperately I tried to clear my mind, the more crowded it became. Eventually, Morrivayne sighed.
"Raven, your mind is a complete mess. You're thinking about too many things at once. I can practically see the frustration written all over your face."
"Try once more. And this time, don't force yourself to stop thinking. Let the thoughts pass without holding on to them."
That sounded more reasonable. I took a slow breath and tried to follow her instructions. For a while, I managed to remain still. Then I began wondering whether I had finally succeeded. Which, naturally, meant I hadn't.
By the time I opened my eyes again, the sunlight spilling through the windows had turned golden.
I stared at the light for a long moment. "How long have I been sitting here?"
"Several hours."
I blinked. "Several hours? And I haven't made any progress?"
Morrivayne tilted her head. "You've become considerably better at sitting on the floor."
I considered throwing the book at her. Unfortunately, the book was the only reason I was sitting there in the first place. I sighed and pushed myself to my feet, stretching my stiff legs.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to do this. It's genuinely difficult to think about nothing."
"Technically, you're not supposed to think about nothing. You're supposed to achieve a state in which your thoughts no longer disturb your concentration."
"That's a wonderfully convenient distinction to make after I've wasted half the day."
"It's only wasted if you learned nothing."
"I assure you that it is a hundred percent wasted."
Master would be returning home soon, and I still needed to prepare dinner. I could always try meditating again later. "I'll try again tonight," I said, picking up the book. "For now, I need to make dinner."
I headed toward the kitchen. If nothing else, cooking would give my mind something to focus on. I began preparing dinner. I washed the vegetables, cut the meat into manageable pieces, and set a pot over the stove. The familiar routine helped settle my thoughts.
While the food simmered, I decided to use the opportunity to practise what Morrivayne had taught me. I focused on the sound of the bubbling pot and the warmth rising from the stove. I tried to let every other thought drift away.
But When I noticed myself thinking about the Spiritual Forge, I gently returned my attention to the food.
If I could learn to keep my mind calm throughout the day, perhaps the first stage of the Spiritual Forge would become easier.
A moment later, Master entered the kitchen. She paused just inside the doorway, inhaling appreciatively.
"What a wonderful smell." She smiled at me. "That smells delicious. Do you need any help?"
"Dinner is almost ready. I've also prepared some hot water for your bath. Why don't you take one while I set the table?"
Elyra's expression softened. "Thank you, Raven. I won't be long. I'm absolutely starving." and left the kitchen.
Behind me, Morrivayne let out a hum. "Oh, this is interesting." She floated closer. "Watching you like this makes me think you might actually become a good wife one day."
My hand stopped over the pot. Slowly, I turned my head. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"First of all, I have no intention of becoming anyone's wife. Second, I prefer being alone."
Morrivayne's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Ah. So that means you will refusing the princess's confession."
I returned my attention to the food. "Didn't I reject her already?"
"You did. but Think about it. If you accepted the princess's feelings, you'd have much easier access to the palace. You could visit whenever you wanted, speak to the royal family privately, and investigate places ordinary visitors aren't permitted to enter."
I gave her a sideways glance. "Didn't we already search the entire palace for the manuscript?"
"We did." Morrivayne folded her arms. "Obviously, they wouldn't hide something as powerful and important as a manuscript in a place where anyone could stumble across it. The palace would be the first place anyone searching for it would investigate."
"But if you became closer to the princess, she might tell you things she wouldn't tell anyone else. Or You could simply ask her about the manuscript."
I turned off the stove and began transferring the food into serving dishes. "I'm not going to exploit a princess's feelings just to get what I want."
Morrivayne sighed dramatically. "Why do you always choose the longest possible route when a shortcut is right in front of you?"
I ignored her and continued arranging the dishes.
"Could you tell me why you rejected princess's confession? I'm a bit curious."
"Read my mind."
"I was just joking about reading your thoughts ; I can't read your mind—I only sense your emotions."
I looked at her, raised an eyebrow, "In that case, I don't feel like telling you anything."
She stared in silence for a few minutes then. "Don't tell me you rejected her because she's not your type."
My hand paused. I slowly turned toward Morrivayne. She looked positively delighted with herself.
"As I already told you, I prefer being alone."
Morrivayne circled me like a curious bird. "Raven, what is your type?"
"I don't have one."
"Everyone has a preference. You've never considered it?"
"No."
"How dreadfully boring. Fine. You haven't thought about it before. But you can think about it now. Come on, indulge me. What kind of woman do you prefer?"
I didn't answer. I placed the plates on the table. She floated beside me.
"Raven. Raven…hey Raven."
I finally turned toward her. "What? What do you want."
"I won't leave you alone until you answer."
I stared at her in disbelief. "Are you a child?"
She shrugged. "I don't care. Just Tell me."
I sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing my arms. "As I've said, I haven't thought about it before. If you're asking about appearance, I don't particularly care about that."
"But if I had to describe the kind of person I'd respect or be attracted to, I suppose I'd prefer someone mature. Someone with a strong personality, who can defend herself and take care of herself without constantly relying on other people."
I paused, considering the idea. Then a person came to mind. "Someone like Master Elyra, perhaps."
Her eyes had widened. Slowly, a terrible smile spread across her face.
"No, no. I refuse to believe this. You rejected the princess because you're in love with your own master?"
I stared at her in confusion.
"Raven! You just described Elyra! Mature, strong, independent—and considerably older than you! Have you even considered the age difference?…And if the princess finds out, she'll be heartbroken!"
"Morrivayne, your imagination is extraordinary."
"So you deny it?"
"I won't deny that I admire Elyra. She's an incredible woman. But that's all it is. Admiration."
Morrivayne looked unconvinced. I continued, my smile fading into something gentler.
"The way she treats me reminds me of Sam. She worries about me,scolds me when I do something stupid."
"I trust Elyra," I continued quietly. "I rely on her more than I probably should. And I respect her. That's all."
Morrivayne hummed. Then she suddenly floated closer. A wicked grin returned to morrivayne face. " You said you prefer mature women with strong personalities who can defend themselves. Could you possibly have been talking about me?"
She gave me an exaggeratedly seductive smile. "I'm not usually interested in children, of course. But for you, my little puppy, I might consider making an exception."
For a moment, I simply looked at her.
Then I laughed. "Keep dreaming."
Morrivayne's smile falter. "Excuse me?"
"Even if you were the last person in the universe, I would never choose someone like you."
I grinned. It was a joke. A harmless little joke. At least, that was what I thought. I had apparently made a terrible mistake. The Witch's Temper
she was floating in front of me. my wrist was caught in her hand. Before I could react, she yanked me and slammed me against the wall. The impact rattled the shelves beside me.
Her hand seized the side of my head, preventing me from turning away.
I stared at her in shock. "Morrivayne, what are you—"
She grabbed my face. Her fingers pressed against my cheeks with enough force to make me wince.
Her red eyes blazed. Two sharp fangs showed beneath her upper lip, and the expression on her face had changed so completely.
"What," she asked softly, dangerously, "did you mean by someone like me?"
I blinked. Oh, this was bad. "Hey," I said cautiously. "Calm down. I was joking."
"Were you? Then why aren't you laughing now?"
I stared at her. Because you look like you're considering tearing my head off.
Morrivayne leaned closer. "Just because I was teasing you, you thought you could speak to me like that? Who do you think you are, treating me as though I'm beneath you?"
Her grip tightened. "I could kill you right now."
I swallowed. Good grief. She was genuinely terrifying when she was angry. And considering that she lived inside me, I had very few places to hide if she decided to remain in this mood.
I forced a small smile. "Listen, I know I was wrong. I was only teasing you. I'm sorry, all right?"
She said nothing. Her eyes remained fixed on mine, the anger in them showing no sign of fading.
her fingers tightened around my face. she pulled me toward her. And kissed me.
My eyes widened. For a brief moment, my mind went completely blank. I tried to push her, but she didn't budge—since when has she been this strong?
Then Morrivayne caught my lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard. Pain shot through my mouth. tasting blood.
Before I could even begin to process what had happened, she shoved me back against the wall and released my face.
"That," she said coldly, "is your punishment for speaking to me that way."
I stared at her.
She looked back at me with a frighteningly composed expression, as though she hadn't just attacked me for making a joke.
"Try treating me like that again, and your next punishment will be worse."
I raised a hand to my mouth. My lower lip was bleeding. I looked at the blood on my fingertips, then back at her.
"You didn't have to bite me. I already apologized."
Morrivayne's expression remained unreadable. Then she turned away. Her ghostly form dissolved into a swirl of crimson light and disappeared into my body.
I stood motionless against the wall. Silence settled over the kitchen. I slowly lowered my hand.
"...Now you don't want to talk?"
No answer. I let out a long breath and rubbed my forehead.
I had known Morrivayne for long enough to understand that she was dangerous, unpredictable, But this? This was a new level of absurdity. I shook my head.
"Unbelievable."
I turned toward the dining table. And immediately collapsed to my knees. An intense jolt of pain tore through my body.
"—GH!"
My teeth clenched as violent, electric-like sparks raced through my body . My muscles seized, and for several seconds I couldn't do anything except grip the floor and endure the sensation.
When it finally stopped, I remained on my knees, breathing hard. "What... was that?"
Morrivayne's voice answered from inside my mind. " A little spell to remind you not to cross the line with me."
I stared at the empty space in front of me.
"You've got to be kidding."
"Would you prefer a stronger one?"
I immediately closed my mouth. There were times when survival required courage. and There were other times when survival required knowing when to shut up.
This was definitely the second kind. I pushed myself upright, using the wall for support.
I heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.
"Fine," I muttered. "We'll discuss this later."
"I'm looking forward to it."Her voice sounded almost cheerful again.
I quickly wiped the blood from my lower lip and straightened my clothes. A moment later, master appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"Raven? What was that noise—?" She stopped. Her gaze moved from my face. "Why is your face so red? Are you all right?"
I smiled. "The kitchen was rather hot, And I was trying to open the garden door. I tripped and nearly fell, but I'm fine."
She studied me for another second before sighing. "All right. But don't overwork yourself.."
"Of course. Why don't you sit down? I'll bring you a cold beer."
Her expression brightened. "Now that sounds wonderful."
She turned and headed toward the dining room. I waited until her footsteps had faded before releasing the breath I'd been holding.
Then I turned toward the small mirror hanging beside the kitchen shelves. A red mark, unmistakably shaped like a handprint, covered my face.
I closed my eyes. Then I whispered, "You really can't take a joke, can you?"
"Careful, little puppy." Morrivayne's voice drifted through my mind, accompanied by a faint, amused chuckle.
I looked at my reflection. "I hope you realize I'm going to get you back for this."
I heard her chuckle; I shook my head and I activated my healing ability. Warmth spread over my lower lip, and the wound closed within seconds.
I sighed. There was no point trying to argue with Morrivayne while she was in this mood.
I straightened my clothes, took a cold beer from the kitchen, and carried it toward the dining room. Master was already seated at the table, waiting patiently.
I set the bottle beside her plate and took my own seat. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
Elyra smiled. "Don't worry about it. Now, let's eat."
I returned her smile and reached for my fork.
Everything appeared perfectly normal.
And my attempt to prepare for an ancient ritual had somehow ended with me being kissed, bitten, threatened, and electrocuted.
I picked up a piece of meat and stared at it thoughtfully. Perhaps meditating hadn't been the most difficult thing I'd attempted today after all.