Bound and Broken: An Isekai Adventure Dark Fantasy (Melas Book 1)

by V. A. Lewis

  "The Goblin King went on to unite all the Goblin tribes after his parents death. He created a place all Goblins could return to. A place in Hell. Their home. Our home."

  "But you’ve never been there," I pointed out the obvious. "How can it be your home, if you’ve never lived there?"

  "True, I’ve never been to Hell. Nor have my parents. But when I first heard the story— the original story— I felt a sense of longing as a child. Whenever I saw the Inferna at the edge of the night’s sky, I would dream of following it. Running to the horizon, and swimming across the oceans. Not by myself, but with all the other Goblins in the world. Just like how it brought the first Goblin King back to his home, it would bring our people home. And even now, when I see the South Star, I sometimes still imagine what that would be like."

  "But you said the star didn’t bring him home. It brought him despair!" I frowned.

  "Perhaps it did. But only at first. The star led him to the Demon Lord, who eventually brought him back home. So in the end, it was by following Inferna that he found himself back home."

  That felt… wrong. No, not wrong. It was... naive? Yes, that's what it was. Because it was a kid’s reasoning.

  And Karna knew it too. He gave me a half shrug.

  "I don’t know if I’ll ever even see Hell. Let alone every single Goblin out there. But maybe, if I could just make Goblin’s less hated, and be more… accepted, so that the Goblins who are born outside of— or leave— Sharan aren’t mistreated, then I’ll be happy."

  "And that’s why you became a Dark Crusader?"

  "Yes," he said without any hesitation. "Because only the Dark Crusaders can do that. They’re the only ones powerful enough, who are fighting to change the world. The only ones since the Shadow’s Evangelium who are strong and use that strength to fight for us. Because if we win, then we’ll be the ones deciding who is right, and who is wrong."

  He finally finished.

  It seemed counter intuitive, but only at first; the whole thought process was predicated on their victory. And while it was easy to say ‘what if you lose?’ to disparage that idea, wasn’t the whole point of fighting to win?

  So I smiled.

  "Thank you," I said.

  "For what?" Karna frowned. Then he shifted on his feet. "I… should be the one thanking you. You helped me. I don’t know what you did, but I feel a lot better now."

  "You helped me too. By telling me that."

  "The story?"

  "No. Everything."

  "I do not understand." The Goblin was bewildered. And this time, I laughed.

  "It’s fine. You won’t understand."

  I let go of his hands and took a step back.

  "Hey," I said cheerfully as I stood up. "Since I listened to you, you’ll have to return the favor."

  "Sure…?"

  "Don’t worry," I said reassuringly. "It’s just a song. It’s one of my favorites. I listened to it first when I was a child. It’s also about… dreams."

  "Dreams?" Karna cocked his head.

  "Mhm. Don’t worry about it. It’s complicated." I took a deep breath, and quickly added "Also, don’t mind my singing. I used to practice as a child— well, I’m still a child. But I haven’t sung in a while. So it might not be so good."

  He nodded stiffly, as I opened my mouth to sing.

  Karna told me a story about— it was not about himself, yet it told me many things about him as a person. And in that same vein, singing— music— carried a meaning with it. It could convey the thoughts of the musician even without words.

  So even though it was a song Karna never heard before— even though it was not one he understood the words of— he was still fascinated by it. To him, it was something out of this world. And it was.

  But to me, the words came out weird and awkward. I pronounced the words incorrectly, and overemphasized the wrong syllables. It was a song from my childhood. My world.

  A song in English.

  "[Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, there's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby~]"

  When I first came into this world, I thought this was a dream. I thought that one day, I would wake up, and find myself back on Earth— back on my bed, having made all of this up in my head.

  I held out hope for so long. I imagined mom’s reaction when I told her I had another mother, and thought about the jokes dad would likely make.

  But that day never came.

  As time went on, I rejected more and more of this world. I spent a decade living here, but only embraced my mother..

  And while she taught me to love again, even when I hated everything, I still dreamt of leaving everything behind. Only this time, to leave with her by my side.

  I wanted to be always next to my mother, apart from the world around us.

  This is not Wonderland.

  There is no yellow brick road to follow.

  There is no wardrobe to turn back to.

  This was my life now. There was no denying it. And there was no escaping it. I had tried numerous times, and I failed each and every single time.

  I was the daughter of a criminal.

  I was a slave.

  And now, I was a... terrorist?

  Or maybe not. Maybe it was justice. Maybe it would help an entire species of people.

  ...or maybe it would help those around me. And that should have been enough, right?

  I did not know.

  But listening to Karna speak made me realize something: there were far greater worries out there than mine. Not that my worries were unimportant; they mattered a lot to me.

  Both were important. Yet they could not be equally important. So which mattered more? I still did not know.

  However, not knowing did not excuse inaction. Trying to figure something out— learn what is best as you do it— was better than doing nothing.

  Same went for what I wanted.

  I wanted revenge; but I was scared of killing. I wanted to fight alongside Karna, Gerritt, Ihsan, and Victor; but I did not want to be in the wrong. Were these really antitheses to each other?

  I did not know.

  But I had to find out.

  So that night, I made my choice.

  And I hoped— truly hoped, for myself, and for those around me— that it was the right decision.

  Chapter 35: Fort Conon

  "Hey, what’s this?"

  "Why’re you asking me? It’s your house!" the girl said with folded arms.

  The boy pulled out a book from the shelf. He lifted the tome with both hands, carefully setting it down on the floor. He dusted off the cover, and ignored the girl as she leaned over his shoulders.

  "What does it say?" she asked. "I can’t see!"

  He read out its title slowly. "It says… ‘The Darkness of Light."

  The girl cocked her head to the side. "What does that mean?"

  "I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the Goddess?"

  "The Goddess? Why— oh, because it’s about light."

  "Exactly. Goddess grace us, this book looks old." The boy gently flipped through a few pages, trying not to damage its ancient scripts. "And it's even in the Venerable Language— see, it uses symbols as characters and not letters!"

  "Boring!" The girl rolled her eyes. "Why do you like these boring things? How did you even know that?!"

  "Shut up, it’s interesting!" the boy said defensively. "If you don’t want to read it, fine! But don’t disturb me."

  "Lame. I’m going to talk to your sister. She’s three and she’s more fun than you."

  "Whatever."

  "Are you reading that stupid book again? Why don’t you do something else. Everytime I come to visit now, you won’t even greet me at the door."

  "Because you’re annoying," the boy snapped back. "Go away if you’re just going to annoy me."

  The girl sighed. She sat on the bed next to him, and peered over. "...what’s it about?"

  "Well, if you really want to know," the boy sniffed and shut the bo
ok. ‘It’s about the history of magic."

  "Magic?" She blinked. "But that’s… heresy!"

  "Apparently it’s not. The book explains why that’s wrong. Look here." He turned to a page a quarter of the way through. "Read this. The Goddess never cared about magic. Being good just meant you were strong. And magic made you strong! But everyone else feared the Demons because of that— because they got too strong. So they called magic evil, and labeled them heretics."

  "But that’s… wrong! Being good means to be kind, and to show compassion. That’s why the Goddess is the Goddess of Light!"

  "That’s just what they want you to think. Why else would the Goddess make some people stronger than others? Give individuals dominion over the world? Because strength is justice."

  "W-what about Hell?! Have you not heard of what it’s like? They destroyed the land! No one can live there anymore. That’s what magic did to the world. That’s why Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and all the other species’ in the world waged war with them in the first place!"

  "Do you really believe that? If no one could live in Hell, how did the Demons survive for thousands of years?" the boy scoffed. "Oh, and not the entire world went to war with them. The First and Second Holy Wars were just Humans and Elves. The other species’ only came to help when they started losing."

  "I-I see…" the girl trailed off. She looked at the boy as he continued. And she did not know what to say.

  "It’s fine if you don’t get this at first. The Church has been doing a good job at covering this up since when this was written 2000 years ago—"

  "Look! Watch this!" the boy exclaimed.

  He raised a hand excitedly, and a light flashed. The girl stared in shock as a magic circle formed around his hand. As the wind picked up, nearly blowing the hat off her head.

  "T-that’s magic— that’s… you shouldn’t be doing that!" She yanked his arm down.

  "Why not?" The boy frowned. "I explained to you , didn’t I? There’s nothing wrong with—"

  "But you can’t! You’ll get in trouble! They’ll… kill you ! After what happened with—" The girl paused, then leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice. "After what happened to House Corinna. After what happened with their heiress. Now, you won’t just be locked up in a dungeon like before! They’ll actually kill you!"

  "Please, what happened with Lady Valeria—"

  "She’s not a Lady anymore!"

  "Fine. What happened with the Fiend"— the boy glared at the girl as she gave him a look— "was entirely different. Just because I can be executed for magic, doesn’t mean I will be."

  "But your family will be disgraced. Your father is only a Viscount. I-if this gets out…"

  "It won’t get out," the boy said confidently. Then he looked at the girl with a cocked brow. "Not unless someone decides to snitch."

  "I-I will never! Lady’s honor!" The girl flushed. "But your servants— they’ll surely notice something!"

  "Please. The common folk are too simpleminded to even notice, let alone care." The boy waved a hand off dismissively. "Trust me on this."

  And the girl really wanted to trust him.

  "This is an obsession, Victor. You know it is. It’s been a year now, and all you ever talk about anymore is that stupid book!" the girl snapped back.

  "Listen to me, Elena. I am not obsessed. All I desire is to acquire the truth," Victor spoke succinctly. Then he sniffed. "And I’m not sure why you’re calling me obsessed, when you still pay tribute to the Church, knowing full well that they’re nothing more than a false institution propped up to perpetuate these false ideals."

  Elena stood aghast, and replied defensively. "You don’t know that! And I’m not paying tribute to the Church, I’m paying tribute to the Goddess."

  Victor laughed. "I see, you’re just in denial. After I’ve explained so thoroughly to you such a simple concept a copious number of times."

  "I-I…" Elena reached for his hand, and grasped it gently. She spoke softly. "Please Victorianius. You can’t keep doing this. We’ll be going to the Xanthe Academy soon. If you keep this up over there…"

  He shook his head, pulling his hand back. "I can’t just give up on this. In fact, I’m actually quite talented in magic. Without anyone to teach me— without any books or grimoires to study— I’ve learned a few spells all by myself. And I did it all in secret."

  "...so that’s what this is about then. Pride?"

  "No. I just told you, it’s about the truth. Why do you find it so hard to understand something so simple," Victor snorted. When Elena said nothing in response, he continued. "I’m looking to procure more books on magic and its history too. It’s not easy. But it is possible. I just have to be very discreet."

  Victor turned to Elena, and his gaze met hers. He placed one hand on her shoulder and looked solemnly at her.

  "You’re the only one who knows this, Elenora. Promise me you won’t tell anyone."

  She hesitated. Then she sighed and took his hand.

  "I promise."

  "You lied."

  Victor said nothing else. He looked at Elena as she hid behind his father.

  "I’m sorry," she whispered.

  "There’s nothing to be sorry for, Lady Elenora. My son has committed a grave sin, and you’ve done good by telling me of it," the patriarch of the Valens family spoke gently to the girl. Then he turned to his son. "Victorianius Valens. You are a disgrace to our family! We are pulling you out from Xanthe this instant, and your education shall resume under our supervision."

  "You can’t do that!" the boy sputtered. But his father heard not a word of it.

  "Yes I can. And I will. Your actions could have cost our household everything! Generations of hard work gone to waste because of one foolish child. Where did you even get that apocrypha from?! Word of this shall not leave this room. Do you understand me?"

  "I— yes, father."

  "Good." The man headed for the door, but stopped by Elena before leaving. "Lady Elenora, please don’t tell your father— the Earl about this."

  "I won’t, Lord Valens."

  "Thank you."

  They spoke quietly at the exit, as the boy— a few years away from being a young man— glared at them. No. Not at the man.

  His gaze fixated on the girl. His childhood friend. His betrayer.

  And he swore revenge.

  "It’s time."

  The words broke Victor out of his trance. The young man got up from his knees, and faced the figure waiting at the doorway.

  "Ah, Gerritt. Is it already midnight?"

  "Yes," the Orc confirmed. "Praying before the battle?"

  The corners of his mouth quirked up. "Indeed. Not for aid, but to give thanks. After all, thanks to Her, Melas has decided to join us tonight."

  Gerritt eyed him with some hesitation. "I am… worried for her. She is too young to fight. Even if she promised she would stay by my side."

  "Fear not, Commander. I know you have seen many difficult battles, but this is not one of them. It will be a decisive victory. My presence alone should guarantee it."

  "Then why must Melas fight?" Gerritt asked, frowning. "What good would having a child on the battlefield do?"

  For a moment, Victor’s smile faded and his forehead creased. Then he strolled past the Dark Commander. "To prove herself, of course. So the Infernalis will see that she’s on our side."

  "Hrmph. And who does that benefit?"

  The Orc posed the question to the Dark Acolyte. But there was no response. They both knew the answer to it, and responding would be pointless.

  ***

  "Why do we always get the damned night shift?"

  A guard rested both arms on the stone crenellations of the wall. He gazed up at the night sky as someone next to him retorted.

  "Maybe it’s because you keep running your stupid mouth off to the Captain?"

  "It’s not my fault! She’s the one who let’s me do it. You know, I’d think she likes me if she weren’t such a b—"

  "
Can both of you shut up? We’re supposed to keep watch, not chat," a sharp voice interrupted the mundane chatter.

  The third guard turned away from his two companions, and fixed his eyes on the darkness ahead. Only the dim torches mounted on the fortress’ walls lit up the night, a sliver of the moon— not even a crescent— barely visible to the naked eye.

  "Why do you gotta be so stuck up, man? The Captain ain’t gonna sleep with you even if you—"

  "Shut up," the second guard cut him off. "Why are you like this? You’ve only been stationed here for a few weeks and you’re acting like you’ve been stuck here for years."

  "And that’s what I’m saying! Why do we even have to be here? It’s not like those Abominations— or whatever they’re calling it— are anywhere close to us."

  "What about the slave revolts happening all across the Free Lands? Not worried about them?"

  "Not really. It’s not like we even have that many slaves. I swear I can count the number of slaves I saw in the six months I spent in Neo Colynas on both my hands!" The first guard raised a few fingers, and the other two sighed.

  "Why do you have a response for everything we say? We’re soldiers, we’re supposed to protect our cities. With the chaos the Free Lands is in at the moment, of course they’ll reinforce the borders. Especially here— Fort Conon has been a key defensive position for the Chalstics Confederacy ever since its formation."

  "Hey man, I just want to get la—"

  "Shush. I see something." The third guard raised a hand up as he spoke. He pointed in a direction, and squinted. "There. I see… light?"

  "I don’t see anything… wait I see it now."

  "Yeah, me too. But that’s not a light. That’s…" he trailed off, then the realization hit him. "Shit! Raise the alarm!"

  But it was too late.

  A red ball of fire flew through the air, past the trees, straight at the gates of the fortress. The spell detonated upon impact, exploding on the large double doors of the fortress gates.

  It dented backwards, still standing strong. It was built to take the force of siege weapons like battering rams and catapults. It would not fall to a single blast.