Chp 17: The Price of Shadows

The hunt had ended, and the heroes had returned from the forest battered but triumphant. For three long days, they continued their rigorous training—pushing their bodies and honing their skills, determined to become the defenders Guardia so desperately needed. Elizabeth's lessons were now behind them; there was nothing more to teach about the empire's history. Their focus was solely on mastering combat and magic. Yet, in the midst of their progress, a rift began to form in the group.

While the others dedicated themselves to training, Jackson had not been seen among them for the past few days. Whispers and anxious glances followed his absence, but no one could be sure what had transpired. Eventually, the news came that Jackson had been confined to his room after an "accident"—a vague event that he never fully explained. It was rumored that during his isolation, he spent hours speaking in a low, desperate tone to the darkness within him, a malevolent presence that whispered promises of power beyond measure. The dark voice tempted him relentlessly: Take this forbidden power, and you will be unstoppable. Embrace me, and you will become everything you have ever dreamed of being.

For a time, Jackson had resisted—claiming to his own empty room that he was not yet ready to surrender to that sinister allure. But deep down, the seed had been planted, and the dark whispers never truly ceased. His reluctance had grown into bitterness, until finally, word of his odd behavior reached the ears of those in power.

One chilly morning, the heroes were gathered in the great hall for a routine review of their progress. King Orion had summoned them, his expression grave. As the assembled group sat in hushed silence, one of the royal aides stepped forward with troubling news: an investigation into Jackson's recent behavior had been initiated. A priest had been called to examine the young man for signs of forbidden dark magic. The priest's verdict was damning—there was evidence of an evil essence residing within Jackson. Although Jackson protested vehemently that he had never willingly accepted such power, the priest insisted that the dark presence was unmistakable.

Before long, all the heroes were summoned to the throne room. King Orion, his face etched with sorrow and resolve, addressed the group with a heavy tone. "It has come to our attention that one among you has been tainted by forbidden power—a presence that, if allowed to fester, will endanger all of Guardia. When questioned, each of you denied any use of dark magic. Yet the priest's findings cannot be ignored."

All eyes turned to Jackson. He sat silent and defiant for a moment before speaking in a small, wavering voice, "I—I did not accept any such power willingly… It only whispered to me in the dark."

The room fell silent. His companions looked at him with a mixture of pity, confusion, and trepidation. One of them attempted to speak in his defense, but the king cut them off. "The laws of this realm do not permit any trace of forbidden power. For the safety of our people, you are hereby declared expelled from Guardia. Return, and you shall face execution."

Jackson's heart pounded, but he could offer no protest. In the following days, news of his expulsion spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom. Shock and outrage rippled among the common folk and nobles alike. In hushed tones, people whispered that such a fate was too severe for a young man, and some even lamented the loss of someone they once had hope for. Yet, the king's decree was final.

The next morning, Jackson was escorted to the city gates. The streets were filled with an angry mob, their shouts echoing against the castle walls. "Evil, begone from this land!" they cried, tossing stones and jeers at him. Even children, their faces set in grim determination, hurled pebbles at the outcast.

Jackson pleaded, "Please, I'm innocent! Listen to me!" But his cries were drowned out by the chorus of condemnation. Once outside the castle, guards handed him a small pouch of coins and a finely crafted sword. "Go south," one of the guards said curtly, "to the City of Freedom. The borders there welcome all who are cast out. Do not return or face the consequences." The guards' laughter echoed cruelly as Jackson was forced away, leaving behind a realm that once held promise for him.

Days later, Jackson arrived at the City of Freedom—a bustling metropolis teeming with people of every race and background. The city was a vibrant tapestry of cultures and ideas, a stark contrast to the rigid, oppressive order of Guardia. At first, the city's warmth and acceptance offered a glimmer of hope. But as Jackson tried to settle in, his inner demons continued to whisper their poisonous promises.

While wandering the crowded streets one afternoon, Jackson's eyes fell upon a modest food stall. Hungry and desperate, he approached, using the coins he'd been given to buy a meal. Yet, his attention was quickly diverted by a group of rough-looking individuals who watched him with calculating eyes. Before he could react, they surrounded him and dragged him into a narrow, dimly lit alleyway.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing here?" one of them hissed as they beat him mercilessly. "We don't like weaklings wandering our streets."

Jackson struggled to defend himself, but his protests were lost amidst the brutal shouts and the sound of fists and kicks. "I'm—I'm innocent!" he pleaded between gasps, but the attackers only laughed. "Innocent? Look at you—pathetic, useless! You don't belong anywhere!"

The beating was relentless. With every strike, Jackson's resolve crumbled further, and soon, he lay unconscious, battered and bleeding, in a pool of his own despair.

In the cold darkness of the alley, as his body lay broken, the dark voice that had haunted him for so long surged forward. It whispered in a low, seductive tone, "Jackson… embrace me. Accept the power I offer, and you will rise above these weaklings. With my strength, you will crush those who scorn you. This world is cruel, and its people live in false happiness. They deserve to be destroyed."

For a long, agonizing moment, Jackson's mind teetered on the brink. The seductive promise of unparalleled power wove its way through his thoughts. With a final, shuddering exhale, he murmured, "This world is cruel... I want to end their false happiness."