The Thief

Entry #4

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{Day: Unknown + 7}

{Time: Dawn. The first rays of light breaking through the grey canopy overhead. It isn't beautiful. It just means I have to take up the oars again soon.}

There's something wrong.

The captain addressed us today, standing at the podium-ish contraption placed near the helm on the upper deck.

He had the voice of a kind man, but a kind man wouldn't raid and kill.

My head hurts. My vision is getting fuzzy.

Ever since the speech, I feel as if something is wrong. Something is happening to me.

I don't know what.

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I woke up with a start.

"Fardin! My son! Where is he?"

I involuntarily spoke out, only to realize that I was bedridden in a dimly lit room, the mana lamp serving as the only source of illumination, its fickle light protesting against the dark of the night.

The air harbored a melancholic mood, dragging him deeper into the depths of despair.

As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and in came Fardin, his sword resting in his scabbard.

"Where is he?" I managed to croak out.

"He's gone. They took him away. It was a teleportation circle."

"They were stalling for time. I suspect your son was their goal all along."

And then it was gone.

The tiny ember of hope I had nestled within my heart.

Extinguished in an instant.

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The world had lost its color.

Where once vibrant hues painted the days and nights, now only shades of gray remained, each one darker and heavier than the last.

Ryne sat at the edge of the bed, its emptiness stretching endlessly beside him.

The silence was oppressive, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall—a cruel reminder of time's relentless march forward, indifferent to his pain.

He felt an indescribable emptiness, as if a part of his very soul had been ripped away.

The love of his life, the woman who had brought him joy and comfort, was gone.

His heart ached with a constant, dull pain that refused to subside. Every corner of his thoughts echoed with memories of her laughter, her touch, and her presence.

On top of this unbearable loss, his world was shattered even further when their young son was kidnapped.

The fear and helplessness that consumed him were overwhelming.

He had always felt a profound connection to his son, a bond that had grown stronger with each passing day.

Now, that bond felt like a chain dragging him down into an abyss of despair.

He found himself replaying every moment in his mind, questioning every decision, every action, wondering if there was something he could have done differently.

The sleepless nights were filled with tormenting thoughts, and every morning he woke up hoping it was all just a nightmare.

But reality was relentless, and the pain persisted, gnawing at his heart and soul.

His world had become a dark, empty void, and he felt utterly lost within it.

At some point, he started pointing fingers at himself.

He felt an indescribable power flowing through his veins, but what was the point of power if you had no one to protect?

"If I had taken that risk before, If I had opened the seal before, maybe I could have saved my wife."

"She wouldn't have died."

"It's my fault."

"I killed her."

"I couldn't protect my son."

"I killed him."

He was helpless.

Helpless against his tormenting thoughts, and helpless against the agony of losing everything he cared about.

"I killed them."

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A table, two chairs, tea and biscuits left untouched, surrounded by a white space.

'So I'm back here again.'

A faint ringing in my ears grew stronger as I finally began to register his voice.

"Are you even listening to me?" inquired the old man in a heavy tone, disgruntled by the lack of response.

"Guess it's easier to just show you." he sighed, his voice full of vigor despite his olden appearance.

Pulling out what suspiciously seemed like a smartphone from his breastpocket, he proceeded to slide it across the table to me.

The display came to life of its own Accord, and thats when I saw her.

A lone woman surrounded by doors, an endless sky her backdrop, looking around as if confused where to go.

Despite her hair that had turned white, there was no way that Ryne wouldn't recognize her.

For it was his own wife, Farya Fulmine.

"Farya!" I gasped, unable to believe my own eyes.

"Indeed, that is your wife."

"But didn't you say she was 'not of this world'?"

"The rift isn't part of this world.", the old man replied with a playful smile.

"Who are you?" I inquired, my tone dripping with malice.

"It isn't time for you to know yet. What you need to know is that I'm your benefactor."

I gave him a sceptical look.

"How can I trust you?"

"You shouldn't."

'Huh?'

"You shouldn't trust me. I don't trust myself after all. What you should know that I will help you since our goals align."

The man replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What is the rift?" I inquired.

"Curious now are we?"

The man laughed faintly, one hand covering his mouth.

'Weird.'

Something about the man made Ryne uneasy. In the man's presence he felt small, insignificant, just another speck of dust in the desert.

"Think of it as a passage of sorts."

"A passage through which all souls have to pass through to reach the underworld, the land of the dead, whatever you call it. Countless souls have been lost to chaos, or should I say Khaos, while trying to cross the rift."

Seeing my agitated expression, he hurriedly continued,

"Now now, don't get your panties in a twist. Your wife is as safe as she can be."

"As strong as she is, crossing the rift shouldn't pose her any difficulty, I think.", he continued, his expression dubious.

"You think?" I retorted.

"You underestimate her greatly. If not for you, she wouldn't have died there."

His words hit home. He was right.

'I killed her.'

"No, you let her stay dead."

The fact that he could read my thoughts wasn't any more surprising than the fact that he was right.

I should have know better than anyone else, that death was not the end.

'Then why didn't I go to the underworld when I died?'

"Oh, that might have something to do with me."

"Divine intervention, you could call it."

He laughed, his mood swings getting increasingly random by the minute.

This was too much information, too vague for me to understand.

"And that is why you shouldn't ask too many questions."

"We don't have a lot of time left, so listen carefully." The man emphasized in a heavy tone.

"Your wife is dead, but there is still hope. I will personally help you get to the underworld when you are strong enough." he implied ominously.

"Your son, well that matter is more complicated."

If it is answers you seek, travel to the east, to the land of the demons."

"You will find her there, the Oracle. She will have all your answers. If you find it difficult to get an audience with her, tell her the Thief sent you."

"Other than that, accept your strength, accept your blood. There's a reason the dragon married you. There's a reason a lesser being like you was able to have a child with a dragon."

"You are not an ordinary human."

"You are the Dragon's Consort.", he giggled, his airy voice reverberating inside my hand as my vision went dark.

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Hello everyone, author here. The main story is finally here. This is the first chapter of the first volume(excluding the prologue), hope you liked it.

Do leave a comment or two down below to motivate me to write more. Also 'sample text', this counts as the thoughts of the protagonist.

Other than that, do support me with powerstones. I will release an extra chapter at 50 powerstones.

Thank you, and have a nice day!