Vengeance Through Passion

The courtroom was dark and tense, filled with the scent of old parchment and the murmur of anxious whispers. Shadows danced along the stone walls, thrown by flickering torches held by nervous guards. The dim light barely illuminated the figures standing before the ancient tomb, an eerie presence in the midst of the high council chamber. Lord Wainwright, his figure, petite and imposing in his deep crimson robes, stood among other mages, their faces obscured by the hoods of their ceremonial cloaks.

“Burn the witch!” The cry echoed across the chamber, a deafening roar of accusation from the gathered crowd. The words seemed to shake the very foundation of the building, reverberating off the stone walls like a storm. The call was desperate, angry, filled with fear and suspicion. It was not the first time these halls had borne witness to such frenzied cries, but tonight, something felt different.

Aricia stood amidst the turmoil, her breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps. Her heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat of fear and confusion. She could barely comprehend what was happening. It had all spiraled out of control so quickly. She felt the heat of the flames from the torches, saw their light casting erratic shadows on the walls, and her body trembled. She clutched the torch tighter in her hand, her knuckles white as she fought to maintain her composure.

Across the room, Vincent surveyed the scene, his eyes narrowing as he glanced toward the tomb before him. His voice, a low, dispassionate murmur, cut through.

“Wrong tomb,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Aricia’s eyes widened in horror, a sickening realization settling in. Something had gone terribly wrong. Her hand shook as she slowly raised it, pointing at him as though checking to see if this nightmare was real. The world around her seemed to spin, the weight of the moment pressing down on her like a vice.

“You?!”

Her voice, sharp and filled with accusation, cut through the air like a blade. Aricia snapped her head around, her gaze following the source.

Vincent squinted through the smoke and flames, trying to make out the figure in the chaos, but the blaze obscured his vision. He couldn’t see the face properly, but the cry had been directed at him.

Before the tension could escalate, before the flames of accusation could consume them all, Aricia made her move.

She dropped the torch, the wooden shaft clattering to the stone floor with a dull thud. Flames licked at the ground where it lay, but she didn’t look back. Her feet were already moving, her body reacting instinctively, driven by a primal need to escape. She sprinted toward the staircase at the far end of the chamber, her footsteps echoing in her ears as she ascended the stone steps two at a time.

Her lungs burned as she ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the sound deafening in her ears. She didn’t stop until she reached the top of the stairs, finally bursting out into the open air.

The cold night air hit her like a wave. She paused for a moment, leaning against the stone wall as she tried to catch her breath. Her thoughts raced, disjointed and frantic. She needed to get away, to escape before they realized what had happened. But where could she go? What was she running from?

She found her way around the winding corridors of the ancient ruins, her feet carrying her on instinct alone. The sound of her breathing and the pounding of her heart filled her ears, drowning out all other noise. Before she knew it, she had reached the walls of Unagi, the towering stone barriers that separated the small city.

Knights in gleaming armor stood in formation along the walls, their spears raised, their eyes scanning the crowd with steely determination. The sight sent a chill down Aricia’s spine.

“What… what is happening?” Aricia’s voice was a whisper, barely audible amidst the rising panic of the crowd. She was dumbfounded, her mind struggling to comprehend the scene before her.

Suddenly, the commanding voice of Lord Wainwright cut through the air, cold and authoritative.

“Seal the gates!” he ordered. His voice carried over the crowd, booming with finality. “No soul shall leave the walls. An attempt to do so would be an act of treason and would warrant immediate execution.”

The gates of Unagi, massive and impenetrable, groaned as they swung shut with a resounding clang. The sound echoed like a death knell, sending a ripple of fear through the gathered masses. Aricia watched in stunned silence, her pulse quickening. The gates were sealed, trapping everyone inside the city.

She couldn’t afford to be seen, not now. She had to blend in, had to disappear into the crowd before anyone noticed her. With quick, practiced motions, she pulled her long hair forward, letting it fall over her face like a curtain. The scarlet strands obscured her features, making her just another anonymous figure among the masses.

'Why! Is this happening?'

She moved carefully, slipping between clusters of people, her footsteps light and deliberate. The crowd was thick, and everyone seemed distracted by the growing tension in the air. It wasn’t hard to disappear, not with so many eyes focused on the gates and the knights who stood guard.

“Do not be alarmed,” Lord Wainwright’s voice echoed once more, his tone eerily calm. “We are only but conducting a necessary search. The body of the Yazaki is missing, and I believe the culprit is still present within these walls."

His words hung in the air like a heavy fog, sending a wave of unease through the crowd. Aricia’s stomach twisted in knots. The body was missing? How could that be? And why was it tied to her? She didn’t understand, but one thing was clear—Lord Wainwright suspected foul play, and the gates of Unagi were sealed until he found his culprit.

She glanced around nervously, her thoughts racing. The knights were closing in, moving through the crowd with methodical precision. She could see them questioning people, searching for any sign of suspicion. If they found her, it would be over.

Panic bubbled up in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t afford to panic now. She needed a plan, a way out of this mess. As she slipped deeper into the crowd, she knew one thing for certain: the walls of Unagi had become a cage, and time was running out.

***

The narrow alleyway was suffocating, darkened by the tall stone buildings that loomed overhead. Every breath Aricia took was laced with dust and decay, the air thick with the scent of refuse. Her heart hammered against her chest, and her legs threatened to buckle beneath her, still shaky from the recent ordeal. Her mind raced, filled with questions she couldn’t begin to answer. Just as she was about to collapse, a hand shot out from the shadows, grabbing her arm with startling strength.

Before she could protest, she was yanked forward, her body practically dragged through the winding streets. She caught a glimpse of the man's face in the dim light, the same man she'd seen at the market earlier that day. His features were sharp, his eyes dark and intense, and there was an air of indifference about him. Who was this stranger? Why had he intervened? She wanted to ask, but the weight of exhaustion and the flood of unspoken questions kept her lips sealed.

The streets passed in a blur as he led her through twisting alleys, away from the chaos behind them. It was only when they reached a small, secluded corner that he finally let go of her arm. As soon as he did, Aricia stumbled back, her body reacting to the sudden release, and she dropped her head, letting her tangled hair fall like a curtain over her face, hiding her shame and confusion.

The man clicked his tongue in clear annoyance. "In a hurry to die, aren't you?" he asked, his voice sharp and edged. His eyes roved over her, and she could feel his scrutiny, though she refused to meet his gaze. "What were you doing down there?" he demanded.

Her voice came out in a broken whisper, barely audible as she chewed the word. "Nothing."

He leaned closer, attempting to catch a glimpse of her face through the veil of her hair, but Aricia instinctively turned away, tightening her grip on the strands to ensure they stayed in place. She felt her heart race even faster, her pulse thrumming in her ears as her mind churned over the events that had led her here.

The man straightened, his interest seemingly waning. "I couldn't care less," he muttered. "But it's obvious you're not a sorcerer." He paused for a moment, scanning her once again before continuing. "The mages have a distinct way of finding sorcerers. It wouldn't be so difficult now, especially since they can trace even the faintest of scents. And if they were to track your scent…" His voice trailed off as he fixed her with a pointed look. "Well, it’d be clear you were at the tomb. No explanations needed."

Aricia’s breath caught in her throat. "I can take care of myself," she mumbled, her voice hoarse with frustration. But even as she spoke the words, they felt hollow.

The man she now remembered from the snippets of conversation in the market—let out a derisive grunt. "Hm, sure you can," he sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He turned abruptly, his cloak flaring slightly as he faced the approaching figure of another man.

"Look who it is," The Crown Prince himself uttered.

The prince, dressed in fine garments, stood with his arms crossed behind his back, his expression haughty as his gaze flicked over to Aricia. His eyes lingered on her with thinly veiled disregard, his lips curling in something that resembled disgust. "Who's this... thing?" he asked, his voice cold and clipped.

The disdain was palpable, and Aricia felt her skin prickle under his gaze. Despite herself, she kept her head low, using her tangled locks to shield her face. 'Who is this rude man?' she thought, her anger simmering beneath her fear. And why was no one speaking about what truly mattered—the theft of her mother’s body?

"Piss off." Vincent hissed.

The Crown Prince’s face registered brief shock, as if he hadn’t expected such insolence. "You dare speak to the Crown Prince like that!" he barked, his voice rising in indignation. "I'll have you dismissed from the Assembly of Court members." His tone was sharp, filled with the authority that came with his title.

At the mention of the prince’s title, Aricia froze. 'The Crown Prince?' she thought, dread washing over her. Without a second thought, she hurried to leave, her feet barely carrying her fast enough as she tried to escape the growing tension.

But before she could get far, Vincent's voice rang out, cold and commanding, "Not you."

She stopped in her tracks, her heart lurching in her chest. His words felt like chains, pulling her back, and she stood frozen, unsure of what to do next. Before she could gather her wits, another voice entered the fray—Arthur’s. His presence brought a tense hush over the group as he approached.

Arthur bowed deeply before Prince Alex, his movements practiced and respectful. "It seems the thief has fled, but they won't make it out of the city alive," he announced with confidence.

Vincent’s lips curled into a smirk. "Oh, really," he drawled, though his tone was almost playful.

Arthur nodded gravely. "We should leave now. Once the Yazaki is found, she will be burned discreetly."

'What?'

Vincent gave a slight shrug. "Well then, it seems everything is already taken care of," he replied, his voice casual, as if the whole ordeal was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

That was all Aricia needed to hear. The moment she heard the city gates creak open, she took her chance. Her legs moved before her mind could catch up, and she ran, desperate to put as much distance as possible between herself and the chaos that had ensnared her.

But her haste proved to be her downfall. Her foot caught on an uneven stone, and she fell, her body hitting the ground with a graceless thud before the three men gazing at her.

Pain shot through her limbs, but she forced herself up, her vision blurry with tears and the stinging ache of her fall. Without a second glance back, she continued to run, each step more frantic than the last. The only thought that consumed her was escape—escape from the city.

And with a final leap, she fled the city gates.