Chapter 113: Journal of The Dead

The pain was agonizing, as the voices were louder than ever. Just when he had thought that he escaped, he was met with the cruel reality, no one is truly free; everyone is tied to fate in some way.

The shadows were numerous, maybe they recognized him as their god’s vessel, but they wouldn’t leave his grasp, cheering his arrival, and killing him slowly, as his mark burnt him like judgment.

His soul was weaker than ever, so the voices were clear, and they were getting to him slowly but surely. It wasn’t long until his mind was going to break completely into pieces.

Mental Fortitude: 75/100

And to think that it had just been reset, for it to be this low again, just because of a simple mistake like forgetting a light.

Even with his body screaming at him, and his chest beating as if his heart wanted to jump out, and with his mind being overthrown by the voices of shadows and the Abyss, he still crawled forward, where he knew his teachers’ lanters rested.

If he could just find it and then light it up, then he could survive.

And while he was able to get a hold of the lanterns quite quickly, he didn’t have anything to light them up. The thing was, that the only matches in the library were on a tall counter, meaning he was going to have to get on his feet, toes even.

He cursed, his mind being an absolute mess of voices, all belonging to him, yet none being himself. The Abyss was back, making things ten times harder. As his mental fortitude decreased, it slowly got stronger, to the point it was able to create an illusion of himself, trying to convince him to give up, to give it control so that he could survive.

The Abyss knew that there were only three ways to gain control. If he allowed it, which was what he was trying to do. If his mental fortitude fell below a certain level, which meant that if he took too long, he was going to take control either way. And if it is stronger than him, but now, after he cleared Frozen Crown, it was far weaker.

But it was going to catch up someday.

Biting his lip to the point blood gushed out, he pushed up, using all his energy in this attempt to get a hold of the matches.

His body tried to protest, to the point it felt as if he was going to break in two under the point of his waist. It was an unbearable pain, one that he couldn’t contain his scream, and so it filled the air of the library.

But it wasn’t enough; the counter was still higher, and he couldn’t reach it; he needed to be on his toes to get his hand on them.

’Damn it!’

If he were only a bit taller, he wouldn’t have to do this.

His toes curled, as if his bones were slowly breaking under his own weight.

He tried to reach the matches with his hand, waving his arm around where they were, praying that he was going to accidentally touch them. And to his grace, it had actually happened.

The moment the skin on his finger felt the cardboard box, he lunged forward, grasping it tightly in his palm. Opening the matches, he quickly grabbed one and lit it up, rushing to light the lanterns, but because he went too fast, the fire was extinguished. He needed to do things more slowly, but how could he when his life could end if he went too slow?

He tried over and over again, but the fire would just go out before he got the chance to light the lantern up. Maybe this was what he got from his teacher buying matches for hardly any money.

There was only one more match inside the box…

Taking a deep breath, he used his relic to make his hair grow, cutting a handful, and wrapping it around the match, so that the fire would go on and burn his hair if something happened.

Saying a prayer last minute, he lit up the match…

and finally gave fire to the lanterns.

As the light washed over him, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that the pain was over. He was this close to dying after coming back from a Reader Godspawn book. Do you know how embarrassing that would have been for him?

He wouldn’t have been able to even test his new relic.

He couldn’t have gotten his revenge…

…

The library was empty, he was the only soul living inside it, yet he felt many others all around him; he didn’t know if it was the shadows, or the presence of those that have died in this place, or were tied to it when they died.

His footsteps echoed; that was how silent it was.

He stood in the doorway, trying to prepare himself before walking into Clarisse’s room. It wasn’t the first time he had gone inside since her death, the first being to get his gift, which was one of the best things that she could have gotten him.

This cloak has helped him more than anything. If it wasn’t for it, he didn’t know if he would have been able to do what he did.

But today he was here for something else. To try and learn more about her, before destroying the room, and leaving it in the past, so only her memories and revenge remain. Without any distractions.

Her room was exactly like he remembered, professional, just like she was. There was no extra decoration; she wasn’t fond of trying to make things look good when they had already rotted a lot of time ago.

She had a bed, some drawers, a closet, and her chandelier that gave her light. Speaking of it.

“Let’s turn this on just in case.”

He didn’t trust his lanters all that much, and because he was in a weakened state, he didn’t want his marks to suddenly activate.

Walking over to the closet, he felt the wood bend under him, showing just how old it was. He thought about everything again before opening the doors. There wasn’t anything special, but she knew she wasn’t a woman who liked to play dress up.

She had five outfits, one that she wore at home, when she was scamming someone, and the other two were used to go inside the marketplace. The first was used for the first and middle of the marketplace. But she had another that covered her more, for whenever she went to the deepest lair.

That was everything.

Taking them off, he knew he could sell them and get some money, but at the same time, he was sure he was going to find a way to find his own food. He wanted to put her at rest, and everything she owned reminded him of her, too.

So, he took one of the burnt matches, covered it in his hair, started the fire with the left of his lanterns, and threw it on the clothes so they would burn, and finally, rest.

His eyes lingered on the fire, as it slowly got bigger and bigger, before the only thing that remained from the clothes was ash and smoke.

“Rest…”

While he wanted to burn most things that belonged to her, he wasn’t going to burn things like her bed, or the whole room at that, he could, but at the same tim,e he was scared the whole house was going to catch on fire and he woudnt be able to stop it, making him have to sleep on the street.

Which was in no way enticing.

But there was one thing he could still do, and that was to check the drawers.

He squatted down, opened the drawer, and found a bright and sparkling crystal. He actually remembered where she had it… from his first scam… but she had told him that she had sold it. Why did she keep it?

Either way, he couldn’t burn it, so he was either going to have to keep it or sell it.

“Selling it would mean I’m relying on her to take care of me even now, that she has died because of me… I can’t do such a thing.”

Sighing, he put it inside his pocket and went to the next and last drawer.

He was expecting something similar, or just some leftover coins. Or nothing at that.

But he wasn’t expecting him to see a small book inside it.

Tilting his head to the side, he picked up the small book, examining it.

It had been damaged, with the corners smoothened, and with many pieces peeled from the cover.

Opening the book, he could feel how rough the paper was on his finger. But what caught his attention was not how it felt but what was written on the paper.

“From A district of wonders, to living inside a Wicked place.”

…

“A journal?”

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