⸸ᛉ⸸ "Sometimes, the most dangerous pacts aren't sealed in blood, but in memories one would rather forget."
Varek felt a chilling sting crawl down his spine. The echo of his own footsteps repeated again—as if someone was following him in the shadows. He stopped, and then he heard it: a faint creak, barely noticeable, yet out of place. It wasn't the castle. It was something... more alive.
He descended the stairs with steady steps, the echo of his boots resounding through the gloom of the castle. But after the incident with Rasen, any unusual noise put him on edge.
Without hesitation, he retraced his steps and, finding Aisha's door shut, pushed it open with a force that made the handle crack. The scene he uncovered ignited his fury.
Aisha was trying to escape through the window, clinging to the curtains while the dawn's light outlined her silhouette. Varek lunged, grabbing her arm to stop her. The curtains crashed down around them, shrouding the room in a tense silence.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice laced with threat and disdain. "Do you really plan to protect them?"
Aisha struggled, but he pushed her against the wall, placing the blade of his sword against her throat.
Yet for a moment, his hand trembled. As if every fiber in him screamed that he shouldn't. As if some forgotten part of him still tried to protect her.
"Don't even try, Aisha," Varek warned, his eyes glowing with a dangerous light. "You're not leaving."
"Bastard!" Aisha shouted, unable to hide her rage.
With a sudden movement, she threw the owl pendant hanging from her neck at Varek's chest. He caught it in midair, and upon seeing it, a spark of emotion flickered in his eyes before being extinguished by his usual indifference.
"Are you 'V'?" she asked, trying to hide her trembling.
Varek shook his head coldly, though his fingers brushed the pendant like it was something familiar.
"No. But you have a lot to explain," he said, throwing a golden bracelet to the floor—one engraved with the names: Clear and Rasen.
The mention of those names shook Aisha. Her memories overwhelmed her, transporting her to a crucial moment in her life.
Flashback: The Tragedy at Losare
The road was shrouded in fog and silence when she saw them. Clear and Rasen were in their car, carefree, when the first shadow slipped between the trees. Enormous beasts with reddish fur emerged from the darkness, surrounding the vehicle with calculated movements. Aisha watched from a nearby hilltop, the moon medallion of Sanathiel hanging from her neck. Her heart pounded, fighting the urge to intervene.
Suddenly, the wolves leapt onto the car, shattering windows and crushing the frame. Rasen tried to shield Clear, but both of their screams vanished into the chaos. Aisha ran for help, but when she returned, the scene was pure devastation. The car had flipped, the wolves had vanished, and the air reeked of blood and burnt metal.
Then she saw her.
Clear was trapped, barely conscious, clutching the gash on her neck. She looked at Aisha through pain-clouded eyes and whispered:
"Why didn't you come sooner…?"
Aisha ran to her, spotting Rasen in the passenger seat, wounded and bruised. She moved to help, but a masked figure stopped her, pinning her in place with strong arms. She watched as Clear's head fell to the side—lifeless.
Silence…
"You can't save them, Aisha," said a deep voice—a tall man whose face remained hidden behind a mask. "If you stay here, you'll die too."
Silence…
Aisha froze, then glared at him in defiance, struggling to break free.
"Let me go!" she screamed, managing to strike his ribs.
She dashed toward the car, dodging shadows that still lurked. Beneath the wreck, she found Rasen's phone. Linking it to hers, she tossed her cloak as a distraction. The beasts pounced—but that no longer mattered—when a metallic flash cut through the air, slicing one of the creatures.
Through the mist, Varek appeared, his sword flashing as he eliminated the last of the beasts.
"Rasen!" Aisha screamed, running to him. But by the time she got there, Clear had already stopped breathing.
End of Flashback
Aisha returned to the present, the echo of the past still pulsing in her chest like an open wound. She looked at Varek—his face hardened by silence, his eyes burning with a restrained fury that seemed to battle something deeper.
She stepped forward and asked, "You left them… on that road?"
"It was you or them," Varek said flatly.
"Then why do you keep saving me, Varek?" she finally asked, her voice cracked but steady.
Varek paused at the door. For a moment, the edge of his resolve seemed to waver.
"Because I can't lose you again," he said, in a voice so low it was nearly a whisper—yet it carried a sincerity that disarmed her.
Aisha clutched Rasen's bracelet in her fingers, searching for an answer that never came. When Varek looked back one last time before vanishing into the shadows, her heart raced. There was something in him—something in his pain—that resonated with her own.
"You were there!" she shouted, her face twisted in rage.
Without thinking, she slapped him with all her strength.
"You deserved that, Varek," she spat, pain and guilt mingling in her voice.
Varek touched his cheek but didn't reply. Instead, he picked up his sword and sheathed it with a swift motion.
"From now on, you'll do what I say," he declared in an icy tone. "You must atone for your sins, Aisha."
Before she could answer, he left the room, leaving her alone with her memories and the bracelet that had belonged to Rasen.
That same night, Skiller arrived at the castle—elegant and oozing sarcasm.
"So it's true. The great Varek has decided to hide away in this forgotten castle," he remarked as he entered.
Varek greeted him with a glass of wine, not bothering to hide his disdain.
"If you're here for her, Skiller, let me warn you: don't try anything. She's still my responsibility."
Skiller smirked arrogantly and headed to Aisha's room. He knocked softly.
"Aisha, guess who?" he murmured with sarcasm.
When she opened the door, she faced him with her sword raised.
"What do you want, Skiller?" she asked coldly, trying to conceal the unease rising within her. "No surprise you know him too… More secrets."
"No, just fulfilling my part of the deal," he replied, handing her a letter.
"You'll get everything you've ever wanted…" Aisha read, her voice cracking.
"Everything they took from you," Skiller added with a subtle smile.
'Not even Dimitri will look for you… I gave him a new toy. £200,000, a large plot of land for a city, 30 tons of my wagon's blood. A fair deal, don't you think? In return, just make my life difficult until I forget who I am. When I lose my memory. Nothing major... Less complicated. Your choice. Here's the key to the documents and the marvel that awaits you…'
She swallowed hard and hesitated. Then Skiller finished it:
"No one will ever offer you a better deal than mine," those were your words, Aisha.
The sensation was overwhelming, like every part of her memories betraying her. Above all, the vision of her former self—calculating, ruthless, and meticulous—haunted her.
Had she really been that person? Ambitious and cold? Willing to sacrifice everyone and everything?
Noticing her confusion, Skiller stepped closer and shamelessly smelled her long hair, as if claiming what belonged to him.
"I admired you, Aisha. You were ruthlessly direct, calculating, perfect. But this version of you… is just a shadow. Get it back. Say something. Negotiate with me. Doubt, if you want."
Aisha clenched her fists, fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to burst. Skiller's words were venom—awakening memories she wasn't sure she wanted to face.
"Reclaim what you were—power and submission, everyone feeding from your hand."
But what exactly was that? A ruthless strategy? A leader sacrificing everything for her goals? Or just a young woman trying to survive a world that always demanded something of her?
Skiller smiled, watching her.
"So close, yet so far... you've forgotten."
"Was there a relationship?" Aisha asked, eyes narrowed, sarcasm in her voice.
Skiller flicked his black hair back and leaned on her shoulder.
"We can start one now. Just don't reject me again. I won't handle it a second time."
His words and closeness ignited a spark of fury in her.
"It's disrespectful to hold me like this," Aisha said, raising her hands to stop him from coming closer.
"I'm just being honest. It's not wrong to speak my mind—especially when you hint at such things, Aisha," he replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Without thinking, Aisha slapped his cold, pale face.
"I didn't want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice," Skiller said, regaining his composure.
He quickly seized both of her arms, catching her off guard and sending her into a trance as he rummaged through her memories.
"I hope it's enough, Aisha," he whispered.
Their eyes gleamed, and suddenly the deal they made began to resurface.
Aisha, snapping out of the trance, gripped Skiller's arms, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and despair.
"Let go of me."
Before she could say more, Skiller smirked ironically.
"Oh, by the way... Zaira sends her regards—from the other side."
Aisha's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the ground crumbled beneath her.
"Zaira..." she whispered. The name caught in her throat.
The letter fell to the floor. Her hands trembled.
"You're lying…" she whispered, though deep down, she knew he wasn't.
Skiller simply smiled. The pieces were falling into place—and he knew too much.
As he walked away, Aisha's mind spun around the revelation.How much more had her memory buried?How far would she go to reclaim what she had lost…—or to avoid becoming who she once was?
From atop the tower, a hooded figure watched in silence.
"Aisha has started to remember…" he muttered, as the runes on his gloves faintly glowed.
Just as we planned.