STAGE THIRTY NINE: A Familiar Face

"It's your fault Kirin was captured."

The mysterious voice appeared again. Freyja can't argue. "Because of you he's back to the place he hates the most."

"I know..." Veins pulsed furiously in her neck.

"Keon is being punished heavily. Astrid and Aria, you let them get captured." The voice won't stop.

"I know! I know already!" Freyja cried out in frustration. She's at her limit. She's totally at the mercy of Aneurin Aethelmaer, locked in a luxurious room, like a pig being fattened for slaughtering later on. That's what's going to happen to all of them and Freyja knows that very well. Her fists all red, hitting the wall was the only thing she can do.

The door opened, Alaric quietly let himself in. "Freyja, calm down. I know what you're thinking, but it's not your fault. We have to remain calm and think." Alaric is well aware how difficult his suggestion was, but he's convinced that's what they should do. "Kirin knows what he's doing. He's not that easy to kill, we both know that. We have to trust him." Alaric held Freyja's shoulders. A day has passed since Kirin agreed to cooperate with Aneurin in exchange for their safety, and every second that passed made them more and more uneasy. "Freyja, please..."

Freyja sighed. She turned to Alaric and reassured him with an energetic smile. "Yeah, I got it. We will all get out of this place alive." Then, her expression shifted to a serious one. "But we don't have much time. The longer we stay here, the less our chances of escape will be. So, we have to start looking for escape routes."

Alaric nodded. "We're being watched, but we can go around freely at least. I'll pretend to get lost and look around. You stay here and wait for Kirin's cues."

"Sounds like a plan."

Just as soon as Alaric left, there was a knock on her door. Freyja was about to open it, but Keon stormed in. "Keon! Are you alright?" She ran to him, overwhelmed with guilt as she saw bruises and scars all over his body. She can't even look at him in the eye.

"I won't ask you why you didn't run, but now I'm going to force you out!" He pulled his sword and pointed it at her. "Leave this place. Leave Kirin. You will die if you stay. Father is up to something, I don't know what, but I know him. He is ruthless." Keon's tears fell from his eyes as his hands trembled. "So leave this place at once! You can do it, right? You can escape by yourself!" Freyja fell speechless. She never thought she'd see Keon cry so much, and it's for her sake. However, it fired up her determination instead. "Yes, I'm scared. I'm very scared to be honest!" She shouted at the wide-eyed boy. Freyja didn't move an inch away from where she's standing, completely ignoring his threat.

"When I met your father, I was scared to death! But I am more scared to lose Kirin, or anyone of you! I won't leave by myself. Kirin, Alaric and you, I'll get Astrid and Aria back and we will leave together! So if you really want me to survive, then cooperate with me!" She said, almost ordering him to do so.

Keon dropped his sword and fell on his knees.

"Listen Keon, no matter what, you have to live. Be the successor of the Aethelmaer clan, if you want to avenge me..." His late mother's words started haunting him again. He suddenly recalled how his father's sword slit her mother's throat, almost decapitating her.

Freyja bent down and wrapped her arms around the shaking boy. "Keon, we will escape. We can do this. And if I'll have to fight Aneurin, I will. So please trust me, we'll all get out of this alive." Her eyes blazing with determination. Her feelings reached Keon.

"How could you possibly defeat father? Stupid..."

Freyja have one last card left under her sleeve. Should the need arises, she's prepared to use it at the expense of her own life. "Don't forget. I am the ruling monarch of Celestia, and the heir to the celestial core. I won't die here. Not now." She squeezed Keon, as she whispered in his ear. Letting go, Freyja stood up.

"Are you going with me, Keon?" She extended her hand out to him. He reached for it, squeezed her hand, and stood up. He nodded. "Good. Now, let's do this."

The walls are tall and thick and the draperies and decorations are definitely fit to royalty. Even the famous Runerich's tower looks average in comparison to the manor's interior. The mansion is too large that it felt more of a labyrinth to Alaric.

Alaric used his aura to conjure a mirror-like barrier to hide him from servants passing by. He did so excellently, as he continued to survey the place undetected. However, while there are countless of rooms that piqued his interest, one certain room, far in the corner of the basement, intrigued him the most.

From the room's doors, he guessed it must be a very important room because it is sealed by more than a hundred layers of stronger kind of rune barrier. Luckily for him, a group of servants entered the room briefly, to store a crate of gold bars. As soon as they left, Alaric got the lock figured out.

Alaric is far from an ordinary rune master, a rune-lock of a thousand layers is a piece of cake. The moment the servants left, he undid his stealth spell and stated opening the rune-lock with his sorcery. In no time, he found himself inside a pitch-black room.

Alaric used an illuminating spell, lighting up the entire room in an instant. The room was bigger than he expected, too big for a simple treasure room, even for the Aethelmaer manor.

Treasures of all sorts were stored in there: Gold coins, bars, jewels and artifacts and... he just can't believe the wealth goes on and on in a seemingly endless room. Alaric explored the entire room in awe, almost forgetting his purpose.

When he reached the end of the room, there was one treasure unlike the others. It didn't sparkle, it didn't give off a mysterious kind of aura either. A painting, around three meters high, covered by a thick, dusty, velvet cloth. Unlike the other paintings, that one was the only one covered, and isolated from the others. He can't get any more curious, he pulled the cloth off.

"What the hell..." Alaric's jaw dropped. Wide eyed and speechless, it's like his brain stopped functioning for a second. The covered painting was in fact, a portrait. The man on the painting was so familiar, Alaric could almost swear they're the same person.

In front of him is an old portrait of a pale-skinned young man, probably in his early twenties, with long silver hair and prominent emerald green eyes. He's wearing a blank expression, and around his neck is a medallion exactly similar to Freyja's celestial crest. The man in the picture is wearing thick dark blue robes with silver linings, a design he can't recognize. Judging by the looks of the picture, Alaric could easily tell it is at least hundreds of years old. Examining it further, he couldn't certainly tell the kind of materials used, despite his extensive knowledge about artwork. He grew up examining relics and artwork in Runerich, but this is the first time he encountered such strange portrait.

Alaric felt blood drain from his face. "No, it can't be, this painting is too old to be Kirin. His ancestor?" Alaric decided to leave it at that. Alaric turned his back, and never made a second look at the portrait. However, he knows very well that there is something more to it that what he'd like to admit.

~ o 0 o ~