Cale’s stomach churned as he studied Thorn’s face, the torchlight flickering across jagged scars that twisted his mouth into a permanent, blood-crusted grin. The shadows deepened the effect, stretching that unnatural smile until it seemed to devour his pale, gaunt features entirely. Those blind, clouded eyes stared at nothing, yet Cale couldn’t shake the sensation they were piercing through him, unravelling secrets he didn’t even know he kept.

  “Thorn, huh?” Cale said, forcing his voice to hold steady despite the unease slithering up his spine. “That’s… an interesting name.”

  Thorn tilted his head, as if catching a faint sound only he could hear. “Is it? I just came up with it yesterday,” he replied, his tone oddly light as he scratched his head with a casual air.

  Cale shifted on the cold stone floor, the chill seeping through his threadbare clothes. He gnced around the cell, noting how the other prisoners—humans and grotesque creatures alike—kept their distance from Thorn’s corner.

  Hulking figures with too many eyes or jagged, misshapen limbs huddled in tight clusters, their gazes darting away whenever they drifted too near. It was subtle but undeniable: an invisible barrier seemed to isote Thorn, as if he were a contagion they feared catching.

  “Why do they avoid you?” Cale asked, curiosity nudging past his discomfort.

  Thorn hummed a low, eerie tune that echoed faintly off the damp walls. “Maybe they’re scared,” he said after a pause, his voice taking on a pyful lilt. “Or maybe they just don’t like me. Who knows?”

  Cale frowned, unconvinced. “Scared of what? You’re just a kid.”

  The humming stopped abruptly. Thorn turned his head toward Cale, his scarred grin twitching. “So what if I’m a kid?” he said, a hint of mischief in his tone. “Kids can be scary too, you know. Most I’ve met have been downright terrifying—crazy, even.”

  He stretched his arms above his head, his movements slow and deliberate, then muttered under his breath his entire personality taking a 180.

  “Sigh.. I should really stop talking to myself. I’m already crazy—don’t need to make it worse.” Rising to his feet, his frail frame swayed slightly. “Besides, they’re almost here.”

  Cale’s brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. What’s this kid talking about? He opened his mouth to ask, but Thorn was already shuffling away from his corner. Just before he moved out of sight, he tossed his dark blue robes onto the spot where he’d been sitting, the fabric nding in a crumpled heap.

  Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor, growing louder with each deliberate thud. Cale recognized the sound instantly: the boots of the guards who’d “graciously” escorted him to this cell earlier that afternoon. The noise reverberated off the stone walls until it reached the rusted cell door.

  The door creaked open, and two guards stepped inside, ignoring the wary gnces from the prisoners. One raised a grimy mp, its dark orange glow dulled by stains on the gss, while the other unsheathed his sword, his eyes fixed on Thorn with cautious suspicion.

  Thorn sighed inwardly, the faint scrape of the bde catching his ear. Always so dramatic, he thought, but his expression remained unperturbed. He ambled toward them, his pace slow and unsteady, as if the weight of his shackles dragged at his every step.

  The guard with the mp lifted it higher, peering at the frail boy. “Hurry up, LE756!” he barked.

  Thorn smirked, his scarred grin widening. “Oh, sure, because walking with weights on my ankles is a breeze. If you’re in such a rush, why don’t you carry me?” he shot back, his eyebrows furrowing in mock irritation.

  "what don't tell me your afraid of a little kid like me?" he smiled mockingly.

  The guard exchanged a gnce with his partner, who gave a curt nod. With a reluctant grunt, he stepped forward, bent down, and hoisted Thorn over his shoulder. The boy’s slight frame dangled limply, offering no resistance. The pair turned and marched out of the cell, the sword-wielding guard keeping a close eye on Thorn as their footsteps faded into the distance.

  Cale watched the scene unfold, bewilderment creasing his brow. The guards were gone, taking Thorn with them, yet the cell door remained wide open. Stranger still, the keys hung in the lock, glinting faintly in the dim light.

  No way they forgot, Cale thought, shaking his head. He gnced at the other prisoners, but none moved. They could see the open door—freedom dangling right there—yet they stayed rooted, as if bound by an unseen force.

  Am I seeing things? Cale scratched his head, puzzled. Leaning against the wall for support, he pulled himself to his feet, moving carefully toward the door to avoid drawing attention.

  His rough, calloused hands brushed the rusted edges of the doorframe as he reached it. He paused, casting a look back at the prisoners. Even now, with escape within reach, they remained still, their veiled stares tracking him but their bodies frozen. It felt like an unspoken agreement held them in pce.

  Cale peeked into the hallway, then eyed the keys again. The ring held four others, each uniquely shaped—likely for other cells. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the lock. Freedom was right there, within his grasp. But something stopped him.

  The other prisoners hadn’t budged, hadn’t even gnced at the open door. There had to be a reason. Perhaps escaping wasn’t as simple as it seemed. With a resigned sigh, he turned away from the door and shuffled back to his corner, his mind buzzing with unanswered questions.

  Resting his head against the wall, Cale stretched out his legs, draping an arm over one knee. The cell fell silent once more, the air thick with unspoken tension. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming—something far worse than the guards or the open door.

  Name: Cale

  Rank: Seeker

  Vaiyrid: Gsscall

  Race: Human

  Innate ability: Adaptability

  Aspect: Sacred Heart

  Fragments: [poisonous harpoon] [cloverpetal shield] [fog fiment] [sleep net] [hope bracket] [blink ribbon] [coil whisper] [sneeze wire] [numb spool] [gravity brush] [echo pocket] [thought needle] [time sponge] [silence prism] [pulse jar] [habit wrench] [shadow hinge] [dust socket] [pause thread] [tension scoop] [noise ttice] [regret cmp] [murmur tile] [itch screw] [water clip] [bruise bulb] [crack lever] [hollow seal] [ache box] [grief bolt] [breath hinge] [doubt vial] [sway panel] [itch scale] [slip pad] [glimmer wrap] [hum bucket] [fade hook] [friction cloth] [whimstone plug] [stretch lid] [shriek magnet] [chime bracket] [blur gauge] [shiver fsk] [drift shard] [tangle bar] [snuff reel] [yawn pte] [creak chain] [memory twine] [weight whisper]