Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Eighth Circle: Fraud – "The Labyrinth of Lies"

The barrier to the Eighth Circle shimmered and dissolved, revealing a vast, dark expanse before them. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, Nycresia, Arriane, and Drave found themselves on a narrow ledge overlooking a series of concentric ditches, each separated by high stone walls. The air was thick with the stench of decay and the sounds of tormented souls.

"The Malebolge," Drave muttered, his usual confidence noticeably shaken. "Ten ditches, each housing a different type of fraud."

Nycresia peered into the gloom, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene below. In one ditch, she could see figures being whipped by demons. In another, souls writhed in pits of boiling pitch. The sight triggered a flash of memory – Oakwood burning, screams filling the air. She stumbled, overwhelmed by the sudden vivid recollection.

Arriane steadied her sister, concern etched on her face. "Cress? Are you okay?"

Nycresia nodded, forcing a smile. "I'm fine. Just... memories."

Drave watched the interaction with a mix of genuine concern and calculated interest. He felt a pang of empathy for the sisters' suffering, but couldn't help wondering how their trauma might be useful in the trials ahead. The thought made him uncomfortable, a reminder of his mother's ruthless teachings that he was increasingly questioning.

"How are we supposed to navigate this nightmare?" Arriane asked, her usual positivity strained but still present.

Before anyone could answer, a booming voice echoed across the chasms. "SEEKERS OF THE PATH, HEAR THIS. TO PROGRESS, YOU MUST CROSS EACH OF THE TEN BOLGE. BUT BEWARE – THE FRAUDULENT NATURE OF THIS CIRCLE WILL TEST YOUR TRUST IN EACH OTHER. PROCEED WITH CAUTION."

Nycresia felt a chill run down her spine. She glanced at Drave and Arriane, seeing her own unease reflected in their eyes. "We stick together," she said firmly. "No matter what."

As they began their descent into the first bolgia, home to the seducers and panderers, Nycresia felt a strange tingling in her fingertips. The silvery tendrils of her power, which had manifested from mushroom maze forest and vaguely shown in the previous circle, seemed to be responding to the fraudulent nature of their surroundings. She wondered if this ability might help them navigate the challenges ahead.

Whispers began to fill the air as they carefully picked their way forward. "He's using you, you know," a silky voice murmured in Nycresia's ear. "Drave Locklin only cares about himself. He'll abandon you the moment it suits him."

Nycresia shook her head, trying to clear it of the insidious thoughts. She looked at Drave, who seemed to be battling his own inner demons. His face was pale, his jaw clenched tight as if fighting against some unseen force. For a moment, she saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes – a glimpse of the young boy who once dreamed of simpler things before the reality harsh lessons shaped him.

"Don't listen to them," she called out, her voice stronger than she felt. "It's all lies. We've come too far to let this place tear us apart."

Drave met her gaze, gratitude flashing in his eyes. "You're right," he said, his voice strained but determined. "We can't let this circle get to us." But even as he spoke, his hand unconsciously moved to the hidden pocket where he kept his ancient tome. The weight of his secrets and deeper goals pressed heavily on him.

As they crossed into the second bolgia, where flatterers wallowed in human excrement, Nycresia noticed Arriane lagging behind, her eyes glazed over as if listening to something only she could hear.

"Ree!" Nycresia called out, panic rising in her throat. "Stay with us!"

Arriane blinked, shaking her head as if coming out of a trance. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I just... I thought I heard Mom and Dad. They were calling for me, telling me to leave you behind and save myself."

Nycresia's heart clenched at the pain in her sister's voice. She reached out, grasping Arriane's hand tightly. "It's not real, Ree. Mom and Dad would never want us to abandon each other. We're stronger together, remember?"

As she spoke, Nycresia felt a surge of protectiveness. The weight of her responsibility as the elder sister, tasked with fulfilling their mother's dying wish, pressed down on her. But with it came a renewed determination to see them both through this nightmare.

They continued through the bolge, each presenting a new and twisted form of punishment. The challenges grew more personal, exploiting their deepest insecurities and past traumas. Nycresia found herself reliving moments of doubt and failure from Oakwood. Arriane grappled with visions of a future without hope or purpose. Drave faced spectral reminders of past betrayals and the hollow nature of his mother's teachings.

As they crossed the bridge to the fifth bolgia, Drave suddenly stumbled, clutching his side. The wound he had sustained in the Fifth Circle, which he had been hiding from the sisters, flared with pain.

"Drave!" Nycresia cried, rushing to his side. "What's wrong?"

He waved her off, trying to straighten up. "It's nothing," he grunted, but the pain in his eyes betrayed him.

Nycresia frowned, concern etched on her face. "It's not nothing. Let me see."

Despite Drave's protests, she carefully lifted his shirt, revealing an angry red wound on his side. "Why didn't you tell us about this?" she demanded, a mix of worry and frustration in her voice.

Drave managed a weak smirk, though his usual bravado was notably absent. "Didn't want to slow us down. We've had bigger problems to deal with."

As Nycresia tended to the wound as best she could, she couldn't help but wonder what else Drave might be hiding from them. The realization that he had concealed his injury made her question how much they could truly trust him.

They pressed on, each bolgia presenting new horrors and temptations. In the sixth, they encountered hypocrites weighed down by leaden cloaks. One approached Arriane, offering her a glittering crown that promised the power to rewrite their tragic past.

For a moment, Arriane's hand reached out, her eyes filled with a desperate longing that scared Nycresia. "Ree, no!" she cried out. "It's not real!"

Arriane blinked, then nodded gratefully. "Thanks," she whispered. "I... I almost believed it. The temptation to find an easy way out is getting stronger."

"We're all feeling it," Drave admitted, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "But we can't give in. We have to trust each other and keep moving forward." Even as he spoke, he felt the weight of his own secrets pressing down on him. The conflict between his deeper goals and the genuine connection he was forming with the sisters grew more pronounced with each step.

As they navigated the treacherous paths of the Malebolge, the fraudulent nature of the circle began to take its toll. Communication between them became strained, with moments of misunderstanding and suspicion threatening to drive wedges between them. The constant assaults on their psyche left them all feeling raw and vulnerable.

In the ninth bolgia, home to the sowers of discord, Nycresia felt her resolve wavering. The weight of their journey, coupled with the relentless psychological warfare of the Eighth Circle, threatened to overwhelm her.

"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's too much. Maybe we should turn back."

To her surprise, it was Drave who steadied her this time. He grasped her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, Cress. You're the strongest person I know. You've gotten us this far, and you're not going to give up now. We need you."

His words, coupled with the intensity in his eyes, cut through the fog of despair that had been clouding Nycresia's mind. But even as she felt grateful for his support, a small part of her couldn't help but wonder – was this the real Drave, or another manipulation?

As they reached the tenth and final bolgia, home to falsifiers and counterfeiters, a thick mist began to swirl around them. Nycresia felt her connection to the others weakening, their forms becoming indistinct in the fog.

"Drave? Ree?" she called out, panic rising in her throat.

"I'm here," Drave's voice came from nearby, but when Nycresia reached out, her hand passed through empty air.

"This isn't real," Arriane's voice echoed from somewhere to her left. "It's the final test. We have to trust each other."

Nycresia took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She focused on the silvery tendrils of her power, willing them to reach out and connect with her companions. "You're right. Drave, Ree, focus on my voice. We came in together, we leave together."

She began to hum a melody from Oakwood, a simple tune that spoke of home and hope. After a moment, she heard Arriane join in, followed by Drave's deeper tones. As their voices joined in harmony, Nycresia felt a surge of energy coursing through her. The silvery tendrils of her power expanded, forming a faint, shimmering web that connected the three of them.

The mist began to dissipate, and slowly, their forms became visible once more. Without hesitation, they reached out, clasping hands tightly. The connection between them felt stronger than ever, yet more fragile at the same time – a bond forged in the fires of Hell, but tested by the seeds of doubt planted by the Eighth Circle.

With renewed determination, they crossed the final bolgia, emerging on the other side battered but unbroken. Before them loomed a massive wall, beyond which lay the ninth and final circle of Hell.

As they caught their breath, Drave turned to Nycresia and Arriane, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. "I just want you to know," he said softly, "that whatever happens next, I'm glad you're here. Both of you." The sincerity in his voice surprised even him, a testament to how much his journey with the sisters had affected him.

Nycresia felt a warmth bloom in her chest, a stark contrast to the chill of their surroundings. "We're in this together," she affirmed. "All of us." But even as she spoke, she couldn't shake the feeling that there were still secrets between them – truths yet to be revealed that could change everything.

Arriane nodded, a smile crossing her face despite the ordeal they had just endured. "As nauseating as your little moments are, I have to agree. We make a pretty good team."

As they approached the barrier to the ninth circle, Nycresia steeled herself for what was to come. They had overcome the fraudulent nature of the Malebolge, strengthening their bonds in the process. But she couldn't shake the feeling that something had fundamentally changed between them. The lies and temptations of the Eighth Circle had tested them to their limits, leaving invisible scars that might never fully heal.

Nycresia couldn't help but reflect on how far they'd come. From the moment they entered Hellbreak, they had faced challenges that would have broken most people. But with each circle, each trial, they had grown stronger, both individually and as a team. Yet, the shadows of doubt and mistrust lingered, sown by the insidious nature of the Eighth Circle.

She looked at Arriane, her sister's usual cheer now tempered by a steely determination and a hint of something darker – a reminder of the trauma they had endured and the long road of healing that lay ahead. Then at Drave, the enigmatic rogue who had become so much more than just an ally, but whose true motives remained a mystery. They had all changed, grown in ways she couldn't have imagined when they first began this journey.

The barrier to the Ninth Circle shimmered before them, a portal to the very heart of Hell. Nycresia knew that whatever horrors awaited them in the final circle would be their greatest challenge yet. But as she stood there, with Arriane on one side and Drave on the other, she felt a flicker of hope mixed with a deep-seated unease.

"Whatever comes next," she said, her voice steady and determined, "we face it together."

Drave nodded, a hint of his usual smirk returning, but there was a shadow in his eyes that hadn't been there before – the weight of his secrets and the conflict between his goals and his growing attachment to the sisters. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Cress."

Arriane grinned, her spirits lifted by their unity, but Nycresia noticed her sister's hand trembling slightly – a reminder of the deep-seated fears and traumas they still carried. "Let's finish this and go home."

With a shared look of determination tinged with uncertainty, they stepped forward into the shimmering barrier, ready to face the final trials of Hellbreak's Inferno. The Eighth Circle had tried to break them with lies and deception, forging their bond stronger than ever but also planting seeds of doubt that threatened to unravel everything they had fought for. Whatever the Ninth Circle had in store for them, Nycresia knew that their greatest battle might not be against the horrors of Hell, but against the shadows lurking in their own hearts and minds.

As they crossed the threshold, Nycresia couldn't shake the feeling that the true test was only just beginning. The mysteries of Hellbreak had only deepened, and the line between ally and adversary had never been more blurred. With each step into the unknown, she found herself wondering – would they emerge from this crucible as saviors, or would the fires of Hell forge them into something far more dangerous? The answer, she realized, might depend on the truths they would uncover and the choices they would make in the frozen heart of Hell that awaited them.