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Enigma of Destiny

The gears of fate begin to turn. Magicians and wanderers start emerging from their hiding places. The line between the supernatural and the ordinary grows increasingly thin as the promised era draws near.

Zarathos_Lirbyther · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
2 Chs

Dawn

"I was a humble servant in the grand House Rodrigues. During my time there, I believed my role was simple – to serve with humility and dedication. The mansion's walls witnessed my subservience as I walked through its corridors, attending to every whim of the family.

"However, a series of ominous events began painting a terrible and unimaginable picture. As the days passed, I saw and heard things that deeply disturbed me. Whispers echoed through the hallways at night, while shadowy figures glided through the darkness.

"On one night, listening to those whispers, I gathered the last bit of courage I had and ventured to the source of this mystery.

"My sight was greeted with a horrific scene. The respected patriarch of the Rodrigues family was bowing to the ground before an enigmatic hooded figure, while the room's shadows seemed to murmur amongst themselves.

"Thanks to my hiding spot, I returned unharmed to the servants' quarters. However, nothing would be the same again. Each day, I felt the sensation of being watched.

"Fear grew within me, fueled by the terror that had infiltrated my mind. I soon realized that staying in that house meant being entangled in a plot of imminent destruction. The constant threat of being silenced forever, a secret held by the Rodrigues, hung over me.

"In an act of desperation, I decided to resign from my position. Fearing for my life, I hastily wrote a letter of resignation, casting apprehensive glances over my shoulders. I fled the mansion like a shadow, carrying with me the horrors I had witnessed, as well as a ring I stumbled upon while cleaning the room where the patriarch had bowed to the enigmatic figure…"

The young man sitting across from the narrator, his expression one of boredom, finally couldn't contain himself and raised his hand. "Okay, okay. I've heard enough."

The narrator was a man not so old, still in his thirties. Despite that, the grayness in his beard and hair was evident. He had the tired look of a worker seen often among noble households' servants.

The young man on the other side of the table wasn't anything special either. He was someone easily encountered during these rounds. His black hair and eyes only served to make him more common in the eyes of others.

He pinched his eyebrows and said to the narrator, "Touching story and all. But don't you think you're exaggerating by tarnishing the Rodrigues' name? You might get in trouble for defaming a noble family, you know? Just show me and tell me the price of the ring, and I'll consider if I'm interested."

"Haa. Today's youth is so impatient." The man shook his head as if he were tired and pulled a ring from his pocket. The ring seemed to be made of pure silver, along with a golden ornament carved on its top forming a figure resembling three golden eyes.

With a slight smile appearing on his face, the man pulled the ring again and made his offer, "Fifteen pounds."

"Fifteen pounds?! Why don't you just rob a bank already? I'll offer eight pounds, and that's final!"

"This is a ring taken straight from the House Rodrigues. Fifteen pounds, no negotiation."

"Are you aware that I can report you for defaming a noble family? Eight pounds."

"...Who would believe you? I'll just deny it. Fourteen pounds."

"I'm a student at Peterson College. The authorities would probably trust me more than an old trickster and liar servant from the streets, carrying such a suspicious ring. Eight pounds."

"Ugh… Ten pounds is the most I can give in."

"Deal!" The young man smiled, taking ten silver coins from his pocket and placing them on the table.

The man removed the ring from his finger and placed it on the table as well. He collected the silver coins, muttering to himself, "What's a Peterson College student doing in such a poor neighborhood..."

"You don't need to know. Anyway, deal's done. Until next time, old man," said the young man, picking up the ring from the table and leaving. No further words.

"Hmm…"

The old fool!

Asher chuckled under his breath as he walked away, looking at the ring that was now his. The golden adornments, forming the figure of three eyes, elevated the ring's value far beyond what he had paid.

When the old man offered it for fifteen pounds, Asher saw the image of a pig wearing a diamond necklace. It was rare to find people so dumb carrying such valuable items. He made the most of the situation to lower the price. Who would've thought the old man would sell it for ten pounds?

'Hehe. I wonder what his reaction will be when he finds out this jewel is worth more than thirty pounds at a pawnshop.'

Given the masonic nature of the ring, he would have to be cautious about where to sell it. However, there would surely be someone willing to buy it to dismantle the jewel and make use of the valuable materials.

The sun was setting, painting the sky with gentle shades of orange.

Navigating the bustling city streets, Asher avoided the crowd and headed to the nearest subway station. He knew he was racing against time to catch the last train before nightfall fully descended.

Entering the underground station, the sound of his footsteps echoed off the tiled walls. The approaching train's roar reverberated through the platforms, and a shiver ran down his spine as the wind brought with it a mild coldness.

The train halted on the platform, its doors opened, and passengers began boarding. Asher stepped in, finding an empty seat by the window. He sat down, allowing himself a moment to relax as he watched the city lights swiftly pass by. The orange glow of the sun gradually faded, giving way to London's night.

As the train advanced through the city's depths, Asher lost himself in thought. He lived with his older sister, who had taken care of him since their parents' passing a few years ago. She worked tirelessly to support them both and make sure they lacked as little as possible at home. Witnessing this tireless image of his sister, Asher had also worked hard from a young age, especially in his studies because, according to his sister, it was the key to the future.

Six months ago, he had secured a full scholarship to Peterson College. The institution was a dream for many, a prestigious college founded not long ago, meant for relatively well-off and influential families. With effort and dedication, he had managed to enroll.

He was determined to seize this opportunity to secure a better future for himself and his sister. That's why he hadn't hesitated to live alone in a modest apartment near the college for these six months.

Luckily, now, with the summer break, he could finally be reunited with his sister.

'I hope she's doing well. I hope she's not overwhelmed.'

As the train announced the next stop, Asher snapped out of his reverie. He watched the stations go by, knowing that his was approaching. When he finally arrived at the station, he stood up and walked towards the doors. Opening them, he cast one last glance into the train before stepping out.

Climbing the stairs to the surface, he spotted his modest dwelling in the distance. The dim light of the lamppost cast moving shadows on the walls, and he let out a deep sigh to

release the tension built up over the last six months. It was a challenging task to survive in the heart of London, especially while attending a school like Peterson College, filled with pretentious young masters.

He continued to walk with determination, eager to reach his goals, overcome obstacles, and, above all, provide a better future for his sister and himself.

When he reached the front door, a feeling of familiarity and fatigue mingled within him. As he inserted the key into the lock, he heard a voice echoing from inside.

"Asher? Is that you, Asher?"

A flash of joy lit up Asher's face, and he turned the key in the lock with renewed haste. The door unlocked in the blink of an eye, and upon opening it, the sight that unfolded before him was that of a young woman, now an adult, gracefully seated in a wooden chair. Her gaze was gentle and warm, fixed on him.

Her countenance bore familiar traits, a striking resemblance to Asher, and an aura of weariness seemed to hang about her, though it didn't diminish the tenderness of her smile.