Morality and Raze Azkariel

The sky, previously consumed by darkness, began to shift as if commanded by an unseen force. Clouds swirled with lightning speed and funnelling directly into the church. Within seconds, the whole place transformed into a pitch-black void, swallowing every soul inside. The darkness was so complete that no one could see the person next to them.

They squeezed their eyes shut in fear, begging for safety or a miracle. Whispers and prayers formed in trembling minds.

Ravencrest was a mysterious place that everyone had heard of, and today, they witnessed its true nature before their very eyes as people vanished into thin air.

They were convinced Ravencrest was a land ruled by demons—perhaps even witches lived among them, which was why they had come for Meribella Faye, the witch. Shaken to their core, they prayed harder, pleading for protection from what felt like a devil's minion lurking in their midst.

Then, as swiftly as clouds had appeared, they receded, clearing the blue sky. Sunlight began to filter back into the church through the stained-glass windows, and a stunning and eerie revelation awaited them.

The people who had filled the church mere moments before were gone—vanished without a trace. The pews stood empty, the once-glowing candles snuffed out. Outside, even the carriages that had been waiting had disappeared, leaving behind no trace that they had ever been there.

Far away from the church, a carriage rolled along the winding path, pulled by two massive dark horses whose eyes gleamed an unsettling shade of red.

It took Meribella a few moments to fully comprehend what had happened. The last thing she remembered was standing in the church with her crumbled heart and hopes, and then, in the blink of an eye, she found herself inside this moving carriage, hurtling through the unknown.

Across from her sat Raze Azkariel, his posture deceptively relaxed. One arm draped casually over the back of the seat. His long legs stretched out as though he hadn't a care in the world. Yet the way he looked at her was a stark contradiction as if he was searching for some deep hidden secrets.

It made Meribella's heart race, not just with confusion but with a rising tide of anger that burned hotter with every passing second.

Raze broke the silence first. "If you keep looking at me like that, I might think you're waiting for me to lift your veil in some quaint ceremony," he said in a casual, almost bored voice.

Only then did Meribella realize her face was still covered by a veil. She reached up and tore it away, revealing her flushed cheeks and the storm of emotions roiling in her eyes—anger, confusion, fear, despair, flicker of defiance and more.

"H-How did we end up here, in this carriage?" she demanded, taking in her strange surroundings before fixing him with a wary look.

The dark velvet seats and the faint scent of incense were the first things she noticed. Then her gaze snapped back to him with a sceptical look. "What… what are you?"

Raze raised an eyebrow. His expression showed a mild amusement as though her anger were nothing more than a child's tantrum.

"You should be thanking me for saving your neck. If we hadn't left at that exact moment, your head might have been offered up to soothe the Crimson Crown's wounded pride."

At his words, Meribella's hand flew to her throat in a reflex of shock. "I wonder what made my head so valuable?!" she asked sarcastically or perhaps stated, narrowing her eyes.

He shrugged. "Are you denying the basic courtesy of gratitude? Morality, as humans say, 'thank you' for saving someone's life."

"Morality?" Meribella echoed in disbelief. Her hands gripped the edge of the seat, and her nails dug into the velvet.

'This man is talking about morals?..... After abducting her?..... Against her will?'

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked again, her tone sharper.

Raze's expression didn't change. He cocked his head slightly, studying her as though she were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

"Did you not request no bloodshed?"

"I only said 'no bloodshed," she thought to correct this insane man, "But I never agreed to my abduction. And how are we even in this carriage now when just a second ago we were in the church?" The questions tumbled out of her, one after another, her voice rising with each one.

This man—this mad lord—had not only shattered her dream of becoming crown princess but had also made her a fugitive, a traitor in the eyes of the kingdom. And that was not all, he possessed some uncanny power she couldn't begin to understand.

Raze merely studied her beautiful face, which was tinted with rosy shades—her nose, ears, and cheeks flushed a vibrant red.

"Is that why you are so flustered... little witch?" his voice was low and steady, devoid of any emotion. Yet there was something in the way he said it—something that sent a shiver down her spine.

Meribella's eyes went wide, her breath catching in her throat. "Witch…?" she repeated, her voice trembling between shock and indignation.

The sunlight streamed through the carriage windows, catching the dust motes that floated lazily in the air. Outside, two dark horses led the way. Six riders flanked the carriage—two at the front and two behind—while two more figures acted as coachmen, one holding the reins with firm hands.

Meribella pressed her lips together, a flare of anxiety tightening her chest. 'Witch?' her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress. The word echoed in her unsettling mind as if someone had thrown the stone into still water, sending ripples of doubt in her mind and heart.

She clenched her hands tighter to stop trembling, to hide the storm of emotions that she had utterly failed.

She looked into Raze's eyes. His unreadable eyes seemed to probe her as if searching for an admission—or perhaps waiting for her to deny it.

She did neither, keeping her guard high alert. "W-why would you call me a witch?" Meribella finally asked.

Her gaze shifted to the carriage's wide window as if the passing scenery might calm the storm in her mind. It had taken all her courage to voice the question, and she silently prayed for a clear answer this time—anything but another cryptic riddle.

Raze, seated across from her, didn't even blink. He moved his gaze where Meribella's eyes were. "A little birdy told me your pet name," he replied. His casual tone told her she was not getting an explanation.

Meribella inhaled slowly, shutting her eyes as she fought back the frustration that threatened to spill over.

She felt trapped in a maze, her thoughts spinning wildly as she tried to make sense of her situation.

The man seated across from her—someone she had never laid eyes on until today—insisted that she had written him a letter, invited him to her own wedding, and set the stage for her own kidnapping to become the bride of Ravencrest.

'Ravencrest bride?'

So many questions piled up relentlessly, yet the one person who seemed to have all the answers showed no interest in clearing her confusion. The more she asked, the more tangled the web became, leaving her feeling more lost than before.

Meribella studied him quietly, trying to glean something—anything—from his composed demeanour as he gazed out the window.

The sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face, highlighting his calm composure, not a single hint of remorse clouded his features, which only fueled her frustration. As though this entire situation was perfectly ordinary.

"Are you going to keep playing riddles with me?" she demanded, though she didn't expect much of an honest answer.

"Perhaps you're not asking the right question," he countered, turning his gaze on her. There was a calm in his eyes, but it carried an unspoken warning that a storm was just one wrong word away.

"What would be the right question for me to ask, then? Please, enlighten me." She worked hard to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

Raze leaned back, his lips curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "How will you ever learn, little witch, if I simply hand you the questions along with the answers? Besides, the journey is long—keep thinking. It will keep you occupied."

Meribella pressed her lips together, annoyance taking its toll. She had half a mind to grab him by the collar and shake him until he spilt the truth.

But she knew it would be futile. He was strong and possessed a mystic power. And she was no fool to underestimate him.

Instead, her gaze shifted to the door and then flicked to the window and her mind raced. The door was right there. Could she jump from a moving carriage? How badly would she be hurt if she did? The thought was reckless, but the temptation was undeniable.

A low chuckle interrupted her thoughts. He laughed softly as though savouring a private joke at her expense.

'Is he mocking me?' her anger flared with that thought. 'How cruel, how callous of him!'

"What did you mean by 'Ravencrest bride'?" she demanded another answer. Perhaps this might be the right question to get her answer and will stop him from laughing at her situation.

She continued, "Am I supposed to... marry the land? Or—" Her voice faltered as another terrible thought struck her, one that made her heart stutter.

"Or do you mean... all seven lords?" Her voice faded into whispers.