Chapter 12
1694 Words
Humans were strange creatures. They often found it easier to confide in strangers, individuals with no prior connection to their lives, than in those closest to them.
"I have no memories before the age of five. My earliest memories are from an orphanage in the South." Candace traced the rim of her cup with her thumb, her gaze unfocused.
She spoke in a quiet voice, as if to herself. "The people there were strange... Every day, they made us go into a dark room and recite prayers to a black flag with five eyes painted on it."
Aber, seated across from her near the hearth, nearly dropped his cup.
He had never imagined Candace's past to be so... unusual.
And was it really appropriate to delve into such personal matters so soon after meeting?
He shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Balthazar and Candace. Neither of them seemed fazed by the conversation, so he took a sip of water and tried to calm his nerves.
Balthazar stroked his beard thoughtfully. "You must have encountered one of the local cults."
After the celestial realm had fallen, a sense of disillusionment had settled upon humanity. The gods were gone, their presence no longer felt in the world.
The Great Collapse that followed had only deepened this spiritual crisis.
The Southern Continent, in particular, had become a breeding ground for new religions and cults, their numbers growing unchecked.
Candace nodded. "I never liked that 'thing.' I always mumbled the prayers under my breath."
"Smart move." Aber, relieved to finally have something to contribute, jumped into the conversation. "Some of those cults use mind-control spells in their prayers, especially the less reputable ones. They target children, their minds are more susceptible."
Candace took a long drink of water, her expression unreadable.
She didn't mention that she had initially recited the prayers along with the others. It was only after witnessing their strange behavior that she had become suspicious.
"They found out eventually, and I was locked in a dark room as punishment." Candace stared into the flames dancing in the hearth. "But then there was a fire, someone broke into the orphanage and killed everyone outside."
Aber winced. "Oh..."
That took an unexpected turn.
Balthazar sighed heavily. "The intruders were going to sell the surviving children. I managed to escape during the chaos, that's how I met my adoptive father..."
Candace's gaze focused, returning to the present. She turned to Balthazar.
"But there's something I've never understood... I've spent years scouring every bookstore and library in the city, but I've found nothing." She pulled out her notebook, flipping to the first page. "You lived in the South, Master Balthazar, have you ever heard of a cult that uses this symbol?"
She opened the notebook, revealing two drawings.
One depicted five closed eyes, the other five open eyes.
Balthazar frowned, studying the drawings intently. "I'm sorry, I've never seen these symbols before."
He seemed genuinely apologetic for his inability to help. "It's been a long time since I've been to the South, perhaps it's a new cult."
Candace was disappointed, but not surprised.
She had only brought it up on a whim, hoping that the mention of the South might jog Balthazar's memory.
She closed the notebook, placing it on her lap. "It was a long shot, I apologize for bothering you."
"Not at all, I'm quite intrigued." Balthazar's curiosity was piqued. "But why two symbols? I've never heard of a cult using two different emblems."
Candace traced the worn edges of her notebook. "That's what I find so strange. The first time I saw the symbol, the eyes were open. But every time after that, whether I heard it described or saw it myself, the eyes were always closed."
Aber and Balthazar exchanged surprised glances.
"That's... creepy," Aber muttered.
Balthazar's expression turned serious. "Do you still see this... discrepancy?"
"No, only that once." Candace shook her head. "I've never seen that symbol again since leaving the orphanage."
"Don't dwell on it, and don't try to find out more about it." Balthazar's voice was firm. "If it's just an ordinary cult, that's one thing. But cults that use mind control are dangerous, you want nothing to do with them." He pointed at her notebook. "It's best to destroy anything related to them."
Candace trusted his judgment.
She tore out the pages with the drawings of the eyes and tossed them into the fire.
Aber watched as the flames consumed the paper. "If you prefer a quiet life, why did you accept this assignment from your professor?"
He looked up at her, her face illuminated by the firelight. "You could have stayed at the academy for another two years. And your adoptive father is a professor there, surely he could have pulled some strings. You didn't have to risk your life for this."
Candace stood up, shoving her hands into her pockets. She looked down at him, her expression unreadable. "I want to leave Humus."
"Why?"
"Because there's no point." She frowned, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I've learned everything they have to teach me, staying any longer would be a waste of time."
Aber, sensing her distress, decided to drop the subject. "Oh." He took a sip of water.
Balthazar, ever the gracious host, tried to lighten the mood. "That's a lovely necklace you have, very auspicious."
Candace glanced down, noticing that the shamrock-shaped pendant she wore had slipped out from under her cloak. The single remaining gemstone sparkled in the firelight.
It was a protective amulet, a gift from Aubrey.
Both men noticed that Candace's mood, which had been merely subdued before, now seemed to darken considerably.
They exchanged confused glances.
Aber finally understood what Vina had meant by "a bit of a***"
He wasn't sure about the "*" part, but the "*" part was definitely accurate.
The conversation died down as the only woman present retreated into herself.
It was getting late anyway, and Balthazar suggested they turn in for the night. They had an early start tomorrow.
The cabin was small, with only one room and no beds.
They unrolled their bedrolls, wrapping themselves in their blankets and settling down on the musty-smelling fur rug.
Candace was given the spot closest to the hearth, the warmest place in the cabin.
She had expected to lie awake, her mind racing, but exhaustion claimed her the moment she closed her eyes. She was asleep within minutes.
***
Perhaps it was the weight of her past, but her dreams that night were vivid and unsettling.
She was running barefoot down a dirt road that stretched endlessly before her.
A thick fog surrounded her, the only light emanating from the path beneath her feet.
The path behind her was being swallowed by darkness, and she could hear heavy, beastly breathing close behind her.
She didn't dare slow down, her fear propelling her forward.
But the beast was relentless, its hot breath on her neck, its presence inescapable.
Then, she noticed flickering green lights in the fog surrounding her.
Pairs of eyes, their pupils shaped like five-pointed stars, watched her approach, their gaze cold and calculating.
She stumbled, her legs heavy with exhaustion.
She had been running for what felt like hours, yet her feet felt numb, detached from her body.
She gasped for breath, her lungs burning.
She turned to face her pursuer.
A monstrous creature, wreathed in shadows, loomed over her, its jaws open wide.
A dagger materialized in her hand.
She raised it, her arm trembling with effort. It felt thin and frail, like a child's arm.
But such trivial matters seemed insignificant in the face of imminent danger.
She lunged, her blade finding its mark, slicing through the creature's throat. Thick, black blood splattered her face, its stench making her gag.
More creatures emerged from the fog, surrounding her.
She raised her dagger again.
A blinding light erupted from the blade, illuminating the darkness.
Candace shielded her eyes, turning away from the glare.
"What are you waiting for? Write it down!"
A gruff voice startled her. A bald man with a protruding belly slammed his fist on the table, his tone impatient. "If you're not registering, then get lost, no one's forcing you to be here!"
Candace blinked, the dagger in her hand transforming into a pen.
She was hunched over a registration form, her left hand gripping the edge of the table.
The name field was empty.
"What's the matter, Canarian?" A reedy voice spoke from beside her. A pair of sharp eyes peered down at her through round spectacles. "I can't take you inside until you've filled out the form."
It was Aubrey, her adoptive father.
Candace's lips moved soundlessly, her throat constricting. Finally, she managed a shaky, "Y-yes... sir."
She wrote the first three letters of her name, "Can."
She hesitated as she started to write the fourth letter, "a."
They were standing outside the gates of Aruboum City.
The official manning the registration booth was busy chatting with a colleague, oblivious to her struggle.
Aubrey stared at the horizon, lost in thought.
"You are Phyllis, you are Catula, you are Susa..." A shrill voice echoed in her ears. Candace could almost feel the woman's long, sharp nails digging into her forehead.
"...You are Canarian. Have you all memorized your names?"
A timid voice responded, "Excuse me, Mistress Linda... what does 'Catula' mean?"
"From this day forward, that is your name." The shrill voice dripped with disdain. "Catula means 'puppy.'"
Silence.
Candace felt a wave of nausea, her throat constricting.
"Kittens, puppies, piglets... and our lovely little canary." The woman clapped her hands together. "Remember who you are, your lives are a gift from our Lord. From this day forward, you will pray three times a day, confessing your sins..."
Canarias. A caged bird, put on display for the amusement of others.
Candace blinked, her hand moving instinctively. She crossed out the half-written "a."
Aubrey, finally noticing her distress, frowned.
Instead of the expected "Canarian Aubrey," a different name adorned the registration form.
Candice Nemo.
The old scholar smiled, touched by the girl's quiet act of defiance.
- Writer
