Hearthsoul Chronicles 08 Pride is the enemy

rrin felt his hands against the froststone embedded in his clothes. It felt cold to the touch and also seed to send out a constant jolt. One that itched his fingers a bit. It was an oddly satisfying feeling. He could just….

Ahhhhhh!

He started, snapping his hands. What was that? Was that a scream? He gazed left at the dimly lit corridor, white lamps buzzing at the wall's base. Maybe it's a slave?

"Using the adi. Great thing indeed." Ron, who had been speaking for a while, said, drawing his attention.

rrin glanced at him and simply nodded. Where did that scream co from? Was it a slave? He shifted down the tenebrous hall once again, yet did not see anything. Other than the dreary nature, the bleakness of it all, and the faint sizzling of flesh against earth, there was nothing different.

Did I imagine the scream? He wondered whether that was true.

Just then, he heard Ron speak again. "Ah, you again," he said, his tone soft. "Ma'rim."

Curious, rrin turned, looking at who Ron spoke with. He nearly gasped as a result.

It was...Was it? He suddenly grew confused.

Standing before Ron, staring at him with a smile, was Kzeith. Or at least it looked like him. The face seed similar enough, however, the hair was different: dark brown with eyes like clear water. Was he a twin or sothing?

The strange but familiar man's smile bead, and he walked closer. Dangerously close to rrin.

Mists! He cursed. There was a chance this was a brother to Kzeith. If so, what was this? Revenge? Why? It wasn't like he had hard him.

The man stopped inches away from his face. And rrin? He was pinned against the wall, fighting every instinct to drop into a dance stance.

"Ma'rim, this strange." Ron said, still standing, watching. "This how you praise?"

No! rrin scowled.

Still rather confused about what was going on, it was then that the strange man grabbed his hands and said gleefully, "Hi there, I'm Yoid!"

"Yoid?"

"That's !"

At so point, the man had released rrin from his grasp, though he remained uncomfortably close.

rrin remained apprehensive of him, opting to step a bit farther away. However, the man: yoid's gaze remained trained on him, his smile glowing brighter. Yet, it didn't seem like a malicious smile; A type that would herald so act of violence. It seed curious.

Mists! Not about , right?

After the initial reveal of his na, the man had gone surprisingly silent. Unnerving. It was as though he wanted to fade into the background, yet choose the rummiest way. Just standing there. rrin still believed him to be related to Kzeith. But fortunately, not related enough to attack him…not yet, at least.

Eventually, Ron said after an exaggerated cough, "Ma'rim, this confusing. This ga of stares. It rattles self"

Yoid, who still stared at rrin, suddenly turned around, looking at Ron. He smiled at the giant man and said, "Ma'rim Odium."

Ron smiled back. "Ah, this. Hope you not the sa as the other."

Yoid nodded, "I'm terribly different from him. He's a brute, that one. Nothing right goes in this hollow mind of his."

"Ah." Ron exclaid, "Yes, yes. But judge? No. Odium made errors. Painful mistakes."

Yoid seed to register as he bobbed his head with a smile. "redNight was quite a terrible day. I reckon the Valors would never forgive that."

Ron nodded solemnly. rrin, on the other hand, was struck in awe by these people. They were in Nightfell, slaves, scrapers, miners–and yet here they were, talking about a clan at the other end of Eastos. Was it so sort of madness that they needed to survive? Did he also need such madness?

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

They seed not to care about their grief, their pain…nothing. It was just gone.

rrin would never. He needed to rember his pain. And that was sothing he would do.

Watching them for a couple of seconds, rrin smiled weakly. He needed to part now. Before they stopped talking, he needed to be gone. Far from him. Far from the giant of a man and even the new stranger: Yoid.

Therefore, retreating silently, his eyes stared at them as he backed away. At least Ron had found soone to talk to. Soone who seed to understand his…intricacies. That was good. Now, the giant Odium wouldn't need to share his horrible luck. That was also fortunate.

Climbing down the ladder, rrin had to pay extra attention not to trip off, after all, even though it had its fair share of froststones, it was evidently still far from enough. The tal still burned.

Occasionally, his eyes would glance at the far floor; the height that ended with crude stones. Staring at it, he pondered whether dropping from the height would end him swiftly. Likely not. That was enough to make him shudder.

He finally made it down, heaving a breath.

He made it out! Soone was safe from him. Praise the Almighty! He thought happily, at least enough in the way that counted. His shoulders slouched, his head raised. The iron chains dangled high above everything. Lofty even.

I was once lofty, right? He quickly cursed the thought. Mists!

Just then, a shiver suddenly assaulted his senses. He turned…Eyes!

Slaves…numbers and numbers of them had gathered around in hoards, staring at him. They made seats on highstones; slabs, really. And though there was so level of separation between the cohorts, they all still shared sothing eerily similar.

They all studied him. There was…interest in those eyes. Interest? Where did it co from?

Then he recalled.

In all likelihood, his act of defiance against Kzeith, a new leader, had made news. So now, to these people, perhaps he was sothing of an oddity. A slave with enough will to resist being absorbed in. rrin didn't want that. He wanted to be gone. To be aningless…

What was he now? The rebel? The one who attacked a leader. Undoubtedly, he hadn't attacked Kzeith, but would they believe him? What would happen to that interest in their eyes?

They would co for him! They would seek him out... And if they did, just like Leim, they too would perish.

He had to keep them safe.

rrin stepped forward. Slow, hesitant—but forward nonetheless.

What now? Just further away. He thought, farther from everyone. That way... they lived.

He picked up his pace. The slaves nearby scanned him, their gazes unrelenting as he passed. rrin t their eyes, noting their hardened expressions.

At least they were still breathing. His heart pounded. No!

He had failed before... Never again.

He strode faster. And still, their eyes clung to him, watching. What did they want? Why couldn't they look away?

Did they know, as Ron almost had?

He bolted!

The crumbling buildings blurred past as he sprinted. He heard shouting… screams? Were people dying? He wanted to turn back—but couldn't. The farther he ran, the safer they were. So he ran.

Black and blue servs racing beside him in a blur of bright colors.

He ignored them, teeth clenched as he moved faster than he had ever moved. And as he did, the terrain grew harsher. Jagged stones jutted from the ground like broken spears, and buildings decayed into little more than ruined skeletal remains, popped up.

It felt like another mine. Or perhaps, a twisted shadow of the one he left behind.

Still not far enough.

It was then, despite the whistling of wind over his ears, a voice, small, made it through, resounding within like an echoing whisper.

"Don't cross the line!"

Line?

He saw sothing. It rose from the backdrop, looming like a hill. Two black gates pressed against the wall, their surface rippling like the surface of a lake.

What?

His hand burned!

Startled, he tripped over a stray stone and rolled, a yelp escaping his dry lips.

Bam!

His back crashed against the hard surface. The gate! But unfortunately, that pain was not the end of it. More ca as quickly as the other arrived. Endless, it seed.

rrin curled in agony. Fighting the instinctual desires. He wanted to scream but wouldn't. He deserved it. Whatever was happening was better, right? At least the slaves were safe from him.

An amused voice suddenly called out to him. "You again?" it said, "No, this is good. We needed new ones anyway."

rrin heard the words but did not move. He remained there, eyes closed, the pain of the ground, the mark—everything agonized him. As it should. He needed to beat himself down, to understand the futility of his existence. Then and only then would he be free from hurting anyone again.

To save everyone, he needed to make sure that he was less than. Pride was the enemy.

rrin smiled grimly. At least, he believed he did. Those words… That was what his brother had said to him… Leim.

"Pride is the enemy!" Leim shouted, slamming his hands against the stone desk. That must have hurt. Not that his pitiful rage could do anything to harm the stone. It was blessed already, so now it was ashStone. And no one could break ashStone.