Vengeance Through Passion

The title for this chapter will be determined by the reader with the highest vote for this chapter.

***

Aricia had been to this place before. The memory was hazy, like a fog creeping over a distant shore, making it hard to grasp anything clear. Her mother had brought her here once, or so she thought, but nothing felt concrete. What disturbed her more than the faded memory was the girl before her—this Gwendolyn—who spoke with a strange, unsettling clarity, almost as though her words had materialized from Aricia’s own thoughts.

“Who is your brother?” Aricia finally asked, her curiosity breaking through her unease. The question had been gnawing at her mind ever since she’d found Gwen, lying amidst the gnarled roots of a tree as though she belonged to the earth itself.

Gwendolyn, still stretched upon the ground, sighed and answered with a voice that seemed too old for her age. “A nightmare… no, an evil greater than all evil.”

Aricia chuckled softly, trying to ease the strange tension that had settled between them. “It must be a sibling thing. I was never close to my own brother either, but you should cherish what you have. Someday you might wish for those small quarrels back, rather than a silence too deep to break.”

She lowered herself to the ground, sitting with her legs folded under her, and continued with a touch of sadness in her voice. “My brother’s name was Iskander. An honorable knight in training… strong, steadfast, determined.”

Gwendolyn turned then, her gaze direct and unwavering, fixing her deep, knowing eyes on Aricia as she adjusted herself to sit opposite. Her stare seemed to pierce through Aricia, as though she was appraising her from the inside out.

“Why weren’t you speaking earlier?” Aricia asked, tilting her head slightly, genuinely curious. “Was it fear that held your tongue?”

Instead of responding, Gwendolyn reached forward, her pale fingers brushing the bandages around Aricia’s hands, her touch both light and lingering, as though the object held significance only she could understand.

“What is this on your hand?” she murmured, her question a soft demand.

Aricia glanced down at the straps, feeling a pang of uncertainty. “It’s…” She hesitated, searching for the right words, but Gwendolyn spoke first.

“Protection,” she said, her voice laced with conviction. “Protection of you from the world, and perhaps… protection of the world from you.”

Aricia blinked in surprise, taken aback by the depth of Gwen’s understanding. “And you? Of whose family do you hail? I’ll admit, I’ve never met a child who speaks as you do or knows as much as you seem to.”

A hint of pride flashed in Gwendolyn’s eyes, a subtle glimmer beneath the shadows. “So it’s true, then.” She leaned back slightly, a knowing smile flickering across her face. “I didn’t speak before because I chose not to waste my words. I prefer to assess my surroundings… to decide if others have earned the privilege of hearing my voice.”

Aricia felt a strange admiration blooming within her. “That’s… very mindful of you,” she replied, nodding. But as she looked around, the woods had become darker, the trees seeming to huddle closer together, their branches clawing at the sky. “It’s getting darker,” she murmured, suddenly aware of how deep they had wandered into the forest. Shadows stretched long over the earth, weaving together like fingers of darkness that tightened with each passing moment.

Gwendolyn’s gaze remained unfazed, as though she had known this forest for centuries. “Protection can mean many things,” she mused aloud. “My brother, for instance, gave me a jade locket once.

"To prevent me from coming to this place.”

Aricia frowned, her curiosity intensifying. “Why? Do you know this place?”

A slow nod was Gwendolyn’s answer, and when she spoke, her voice held an ominous weight. “Yes… This is it. The place where it all began. The first cloud of darkness befell our land here, in this very grove.”

A chill ran down Aricia’s spine as she glanced around, her pulse quickening. The trees seemed to loom even closer now, shadows breathing in sync with the silence. The air felt thicker, pressing down upon them like the weight of a curse. “I… I see,” she stammered, forcing herself to speak calmly. “But it’s late, and we don’t have a torch. We should get back. It’s not safe here.”

Gwendolyn’s face remained still, her gaze unyielding. “My brother won’t spare you if he finds you here,” she said, her words flat yet carrying a peculiar gentleness, as though offering a warning wrapped in kindness.

Aricia furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?” she snapped, rising to her feet. “I’m practically saving you. I found you here, and I’m the one trying to get us both back safely!”

Gwendolyn’s lips curled into a small, enigmatic smile. “No, child,” Gwen replied, her tone both tender and haunting. “I’m the one doing the saving here.”

***

It was pitch dark.

Vincent had already reached the forest and was nearing the well area. But no one was there. His heart skipped a beat at the emptiness, the creeping dread pooling in his stomach. Gwen was still missing, and the gray moon had already begun to rise, casting its sickly light over the landscape.

"Gwen!" he yelled, his voice shattering the silence. But no answer came. His eyes searched the shadows, and then—there it was. A flicker in the darkness. Two shadows, one darker and moving more gracefully, the other flashing scarlet.

It was unmistakable. Gwen.

Without another thought, Vincent bolted through the trees, his feet pounding the earth beneath him. He pushed forward, each step a rush of adrenaline. His mind raced, thinking only of Gwen. He couldn’t let her be harmed.

Then, as if by fate, his body collided with Aricia. She had been standing in his way, too close to Gwen, and in a split second, he shoved her away, sending her sprawling to the ground with a hard thud.

"Are you insane?!" Aricia shouted, her voice sharp with fury as she scrambled to her feet. "What are you doing?"

But Vincent didn’t spare her a glance. His eyes were locked on Gwen, still kneeling beside her, hands trembling as he checked her for injury.

"Are you alright?" he asked urgently, his voice raw with concern. His fingers brushed over Gwen’s shoulders as if he could somehow heal the unseen wounds. "You... are you fine?" His eyes roamed over her, his breath hitching in his chest.

Aricia, still reeling from being pushed aside, stood frozen for a moment, fury burning in her chest. She couldn’t understand this man. Who was he to throw her down like that? To treat Gwen with such urgency, while she had been cast aside as nothing?

She took a breath, adrenaline fueling her movements as she stormed forward. Her palm met Vincent’s face with a sharp slap, the sound of it echoing through the night air.

"Who are you?!" Aricia yelled, voice trembling with both fear and anger. "Get away from her!"

But Vincent didn’t flinch. His head turned with the force of the strike, but his expression remained unreadable. Slowly, he reached up and wiped the spot where her hand had struck him. Then, without warning, he grabbed her wrist, his grip firm and unyielding.

Aricia gasped as he squeezed, his fingers crushing her wrist with a force that made her knees tremble. The bandages wrapped around her palm loosened under the pressure. Her heart raced as she tried to pull away, but his hold only tightened.

But ..

But.

He... He... His hands, they were fine under the burning sensation of her palm.

No burn marks or any sign of burns.

'What is this?' Aricia thought, feeling her wrist bend unnaturally under his strength.

'His touch... it’s cold.'

But of course she had already recognized him moments ago which made her freeze in place.

She was so still that one might mistake her for one of the trees.

"Vincenzo Blackwell."

The name escaped from Vincent’s lips with a chilling finality.

"Bl.. bl.. Blackwell."

She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, her voice trembling.

It was the same feeling, back at that day where she lost everything she had. There, in the midst of the chaos, a figure had appeared. A shadow who had held her hand with such cold detachment...

Her eyes immediately widened and tears from the very depth of her began to surface. Not one of joy, fear, or hate but one of..

"But you need not tell me who you are Aricia Witherlock."

He smiled wickedly.

It all began to piece together. Every. Everything. At the tomb, the rumors about her, the job, her name on the list every thing, he knew it all along and pretended not to. He knew it all, even long before then..

But it wasn’t just the name that rattled her. His voice, dark and low, almost too soft, made her heart skip. He was the one who had haunted her nightmares, the one who had destroyed everything she had once held dear.

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

"How did you..."

Her voice faltered. She couldn’t finish the question, couldn’t form the words to describe the horror flooding her chest. His smile had widened, mocking, as he stepped closer.

"From the very moment I saw you, Aricia," Vincent's voice was soft but cold, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

The weight of his words crushed her, a slow, suffocating realization that this had been a game to him from the start. He had known. He had known exactly who she was, long before she even understood it herself.

"I knew you were mine to do as I pleased," he continued, his voice a deadly whisper. "To kill... or to destroy. Or perhaps.."

Before he could finish, the words caught in her throat, suffocating her with their truth.

Aricia’s breath came out in short, panicked gasps, her pulse hammering in her ears. She was drowning in the darkness of the forest, surrounded by shadows that felt far too real. The gray moon shone brighter above, its cold light illuminating everything in a sickly glow. The oppressive weight of his words clung to her like chains.

She felt her legs give out from beneath her. Her mind was spinning. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus. Every part of her body screamed to escape, but she was paralyzed, frozen in the face of the nightmare she had once thought only a dream.

Vincent smiled wickedly, watching as her world crumbled.

"Mi appartieni," he whispered.

The darkness rushed in, and with that, Aricia collapsed, her body going limp as unconsciousness claimed her. The last thing she heard was the cruel sound of his voice.

***

Author's note:

Dear gentle reader, we have come half way through volume one of Vengeance Through Passion, "When the cloud gets dark." And the subsequent chapters would be pay-walled. The schedule still remains two times daily. Stay tuned for more.