Chapter Eighty-Five: Words Unsaid

  They found him huddled in the shadow of a tree, shaking, his back against the trunk like he was trying to become part of it. Jace crouched beside him, careful, like approaching a wounded animal.

  “Care to share what happened back there?” Jace asked, his voice low, but it wasn’t a question so much as a demand.

  Marcus’s face was pale, eyes hollow. For a long moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched until finally, he spoke as though his words were coming from somewhere far off.

  “My father... he never liked me much. Said I was stubborn, like my mother.” His voice cracked, but he pressed on. “I was raised by the maids. My mother, she... she was kind but distant. Always distant.”

  Jace exchanged a glance with Dex, who stood nearby, arms folded. This wasn’t the story they had asked for, but they let Marcus talk.

  “My father worked with John Rearden, you know? His lawyer. Helped him shut down the court orders. Protected his tech. In a way, he helped make this nightmare possible.”

  Jace stayed silent, letting him unravel at his own pace.

  “Two weeks before I came to Terra Mythica, my parents... they were killed.” Marcus’s voice trembled. “A Techno-Purge lunatic followed them, protesting Rearden’s work. Security wasn’t enough. Nothing stopped that car from hitting them.”

  The terrible revelation hung between them. Jace didn’t move, didn’t say anything.

  “I wasn’t going to log in,” he continued, his tone hollow. “But everyone was pressuring me. My father’s firm wanted me to sign documents, sell my shares, and hand over control. I just... I needed to get away.”

  Dex took a step forward. “So, you ran away to Terra Mythica?”

  “When I logged in,” Marcus said, his eyes unfocused, “I found an envelope in my inventory. Unmarked, glitched sender info. Inside was a simple brass ring. It had been addressed to my father.”

  Jace’s stomach tightened. Something about the way Marcus said it—the cold edge in his voice—set off alarm bells. Jace was quickly putting the pieces together.

  “I started wearing it. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t take it off.” Marcus’s hands trembled as he wiped them on his pants. “At first, I didn’t notice anything... just felt angrier at everything. At the world. At you.” He glanced at Jace, shame flickering behind his eyes.

  “Marcus...” Jace began, but Marcus cut him off.

  “Then the nightmares started,” he said. “Every night, the same faces. Demonic. Twisted. Haunting me.”

  Dex’s gaze sharpened. “And the ring?”

  Marcus looked up, regret etched into every line of his face. “I threw it away. It took everything I had... but I knew if I kept it, it would’ve destroyed me. It almost did. The voices—“ he paused, the horror of it choking his words. “They weren’t mine anymore.”

  Jace exhaled slowly. “Where did you throw it?”

  “Off the mountain. Far enough that I wouldn’t be tempted to go back for it.”

  Ell stepped closer, her voice gentle but firm. “You should’ve told us.”

  Marcus laughed bitterly, wiping at his face. “Like I’d just walk up to you and say, ‘Hey, by the way, I might be possessed by a cursed ring’? Yeah, that would’ve gone over well.”

  The others were silent. Then, he pointed shakily to two bodies lying near the treeline. “Those two... they were my bodyguards. You met them at the skydock.”

  Jace looked, recognition dawning slowly. “I thought they were your friends.”

  “No. Just hired help,” Marcus said bitterly. “They probably got a better offer. Maybe tried to rob the delivery. Started this whole mess.” Marcus let out a dry laugh. “Friends? No. They were paid to protect me.”

  Ell’s eyes flicked to the bodies.

  Jace’s eyebrow shot up. “What about that pale kid? The one always hanging around you?”

  “I don’t know any pale kid.” Marcus shook his head, obviously confused.

  Jace let the exchange hang for a beat, then leaned in closer. “When those things came at us—what happened, Marcus? Why didn’t you help?”

  Marcus stared at the dirt. “I… I’m sorry,” Marcus said quietly. “When I saw them... saw the faces that had been in my nightmares, everything came flooding back. I froze. I couldn’t move, I wanted to, you have to believe me. I just… couldn’t.”

  Jace believed him. He couldn’t say whether Marcus’s inability to join the fight was a lingering effect of being possessed, or perhaps something more human—something raw and unseen. Scars that went deeper than flesh, wounds rooted in the heart that refused to let go, until he could one day let them.

  Ell nodded. “This all would explain why he’s been acting like such a brat.”

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  Dex grinned. “Yeah, but let’s be real, Marcus was always kind of a brat.”

  Marcus gave a half-smile, shaking his head. “Thanks, Dex.”

  Jace stood, offering Marcus a hand.

  They swept over the scene one last time, making sure nothing was overlooked. Among the cursed items, they found letters, each addressed to a faculty member—Frost, Orion. The packages were already torn open, their contents scattered.

  With the combined glow of the moon, the light from their Shards, and the sharp clarity of Dark Vision, they managed to track down the remaining pieces.

  A few more brass trinkets caught their eye, each bearing a sign of ownership. One lay beside a letter, its parchment brittle and yellowed at the edges—a small, intricately etched brass engraving hammer with Brutus’s name carved delicately into the handle. Another piece came with a letter for the Archmage—a brass pocket watch, its polished surface reflecting the dim light. They gathered everything with care, avoiding direct contact with the brass, handling each item as though it might suddenly spring to life and bite.

  Jace watched as Dex carefully wrapped the trinkets, Alice handling the letters. They worked in silence, the weight of the task hanging over them. The brass gleamed, its strange allure undiminished by the grime of the battlefield, each piece a mystery they had yet to solve.

  “This wasn’t just a random attack,” Dex said, his voice tight. “These were meant for them. Someone’s targeting the school.”

  Jace’s jaw clenched. “If these packages had arrived… imagine the Archmage, Orion, or Frost slowly being possessed without even realizing it.”

  Dex shuddered. “Yeah. This was an attack. A damn clever one, too. Using deliveries to sneak past the defenses.”

  “Did it affect you the same when the ring was just in your inventory?” Jace asked.

  Marcus nodded, grimly. “Maybe worse.”

  Dex cursed under his breath. “Then there’s no way to know who else has one, if they’ve got it in their inventory.”

  Jace stood, a determined glare. “Let’s get this stuff back. We need to tell Hades, Brutus, the Archmage—everyone. This isn’t over.”

  With their grim discovery in tow, they began the trek back, a silence accompanying each step—dark and inevitable, like the encroaching shadow of a distant storm.

  They rested that night beneath a blanket of stars, the silence between them as dark as the overcast sky. It wasn’t the comfortable silence of friends, but the kind that grew heavy with unspoken words and unshed tears. The leaves fell from the trees as they walked, the only sound aside from the distant calls of unseen creatures.

  Ell was the first to break the stillness, her voice low and steady. “We should make camp. Sleep a few hours. Then get back on the trail.”

  Jace only nodded, the star map in his hands catching the faint gleam of moonlight. It shimmered with ghostly light, marking their path through the coming darkness. The Traveler’s Handbook, a relic of a forgotten time, held their route like an old memory. The journey was familiar, but the night had grown long, and familiarity bred no comfort here.

  They set up camp with practiced efficiency, moving like the gears of a well-worn clock. Each action was mechanical, a rhythm born of necessity. It grew colder, the fire casting flickering shadows that stretched and twisted, like something alive.

  Across the flames, Alice sat, her face bathed in the golden light. Her hands moved through the air, tracing symbols, and whispering words that made the fire jump and sputter in response. The ritual was all that stood between them and the darkness that waited beyond the reach of the fire’s glow. Her voice was low, barely more than a breath.

  Ell had cried when the horrors were fresh. Dex, in his way, tried to lighten the mood with jokes that fell flat before they even left his mouth. Marcus had retreated inward, isolated, intense. But Alice… Alice was a storm waiting to break. Silent. Still. And all the more dangerous for it. Jace watched her now, worry gnawing at his gut like a sickness. He knew too well what it meant to lock everything away until it broke you from the inside.

  Marcus had already wrapped himself in his cloak, snoring like nothing in the world could touch him. Jace glanced at him, a flicker of amusement crossing his features, but it was short-lived. His eyes found Alice again, her movements slow, precise, like she was trying to hold herself together with every gesture.

  They took turns keeping watch, each one a sentinel against the dark. But when it was Ell’s turn, her eyes on the treeline, Jace couldn’t sleep. Not with the tension that hung. Not with Alice sitting there, her hands still trembling from whatever weight she carried.

  The fire crackled softly, the warmth a fleeting comfort against the night’s chill. Without a word, she rose, slipping into the shadows at the edge of the camp. Jace watched her go, his instincts sharp as a blade. He stood to follow, his steps quiet, though the leaves underfoot betrayed him with a soft crunch.

  Ell’s eyes met his for the briefest of moments, a shared understanding passing between them. She nodded, her gaze steady, before returning to her watch.

  Jace moved through the forest, following the faint sound of Alice’s footsteps. The moonlight filtered through the trees, silver and cold, as he trailed her to a small pond, its surface smooth as glass. The silence here was different. Heavy. Personal. And then he heard it—her quiet sobs, breaking the stillness like ripples in the water.

  He approached slowly, not wanting to startle her. She sat on a rotting log, her shoulders shaking with the force of emotions she had kept locked away for too long. Jace took a seat beside her carefully, the log groaning under their combined weight. He didn’t speak. He just sat, his presence a quiet offer of comfort.

  Alice turned to him, her tear-streaked face catching the moonlight. Her eyes were wide, the pain in them raw and unfiltered. She tried to smile, but it crumbled, fragile as a spider’s web caught in the wind.

  For a long while, neither of them spoke. The world faded away, leaving only the soft sound of her breathing, and the quiet hum of life all around them. Jace felt his heart twist in his chest, her pain echoing his own in a way he hadn’t expected. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words didn’t come. They were unnecessary, anyway.

  When she reached for his hand, her fingers trembling as they wrapped around his, Jace knew. Knew that this was what she needed—no grand speeches, no hollow reassurances. Just the quiet truth of his presence.

  They sat there, side by side, bound by shared grief and silent understanding. The darkness pressed in around them, but it felt less oppressive now, like something had shifted between them. The night was still -deep- and the road ahead was long, but in that moment, they were no longer lost. Just two souls, battered but unbroken, finding solace in each other’s company.

  Eventually, Alice’s tears slowed, her breathing evened out, and the pressure in the air seemed to lift, just a little. A soft glow shimmered around her, catching Jace by surprise. Alice blinked, lifting her head as she felt something shift deep within. The glow intensified—sapphire light swirling around her, wrapping her in warmth. Jace watched, his eyes widening as the ethereal glow pulsed, then settled, a quiet power thrumming in the air. She looked at her hands, the light fading into her skin, leaving a tingling sensation. Bronze Three. She could feel it—an unexpected strength blossoming in her chest.

  Alice looked up at Jace, her eyes still glistening but now with something else, something bright and new. Slowly, a smile formed on her lips, small but genuine, a spark of hope that hadn’t been there before.

  Jace squeezed her hand, a silent promise that she wasn’t alone. Time stretched -became irrelevant, as they remained together, the stillness of the night settling around them like a warm cloak.

  They didn’t need words. Not now.