Mirac and Carmen walked in silence, their footsteps echoing faintly against the stone walls of the corridor.
They didn't exchange a single word, as if both were lost in their own thoughts, or perhaps simply wary of one another.
The corridor was narrow and damp, with an uneven floor carved by time and wear. Along the way, numerous rooms and cells opened up, some with cracked wooden doors, others barred with rusty grates.
Every so often, a torch fixed to the wall cast a flickering light, drawing dancing shadows across the stone. The smell of mold and ash permeated the air, a pungent mix that stung the nostrils.
Ahead of him, Carmen moved with a determined stride, holding a torch in her hand.
The light from that flame illuminated her clothing: she wore a tight black tunic, over which fell a long cloak of the same color, with a hood that covered her flaming red hair.
The cloak swayed slightly with each step, brushing against the dusty floor.
On her back, she carried a dark leather backpack, large enough to be slung over one shoulder while the other strap hung unused.
Mirac couldn't help but wonder what was inside that backpack.
Weapons?
Supplies?
More potions?
Perhaps a mix of all these things.
Curiosity nagged at his mind, but he didn't ask any questions about it.
'Hmm?!'
As they proceeded, Mirac's gaze was drawn to something peculiar in the distance: a door unlike the others.
It wasn't made of wood like the cell doors, but of solid steel, with no portholes or decorations. Its dull surface weakly reflected the torchlight, exuding an aura of impenetrable solidity.
Driven by instinct, Mirac channeled a thread of Mana into his eyes, sharpening his senses to analyze it.
It was one of the techniques he had learned over the years, used by mages—but also by sword-wielding warriors—with various advantages, such as detecting traces of magic or perceiving runic inscriptions on an object.
As soon as his Magical Perception focused on the door, Mirac felt a familiar tingling: Fire Magic Runes, precisely etched into the metal surface.
He recognized them immediately!
They were the same type as those on the door of his cell, but with a crucial difference: these were set for instant activation!
It was enough to barely touch them to instantly trigger a devastating explosion.
If he even tried to touch it, the door would detonate before he could even think "Multiply by zero…" and solve the calculation.
Even trying to dig into the wall next to the door to create an alternate passage would have been useless: the repeated blows of the pickaxe would still have triggered the Magic Runes, which were so sensitive that they reacted to the slightest vibration.
Ultimately, there was no way to access the room without first deactivating the spell on the door.
At that thought, a shadow of disappointment crossed Mirac's face.
He would have liked to take a peek at what lay behind it.
But then, as he turned off his Magical Perception, a question flashed through his mind: why was this door protected with higher security measures than his own cell?
What was so important in that room that it could justify more powerful, instantly activating Magic Runes?
A treasure?
No! The Strongold royal family owned a room in the castle, a true treasury, dedicated exclusively to the storage and protection of their wealth—guarded in a fortified space and monitored with the utmost care.
So, what else could be hidden in that room?
Mirac's imagination began to run wild, but before he could formulate a hypothesis, Carmen's voice broke the thread of his thoughts:
"We've arrived," she said, her tone firm but with a hint of urgency.
Mirac lifted his gaze and found himself facing a stone spiral staircase, ancient and worn, winding upon itself and disappearing into a dense darkness, broken only by the flickering torches hanging from the curved walls.
Carmen approached first, cautiously placing a foot on the first step.
The torch she held illuminated the irregular contours of the staircase, revealing cracks and moss creeping between the stones.
She ascended with fluid movements, her cloak fluttering behind her like a living shadow, following the curve of the stairs with an almost hypnotic grace.
Mirac followed her, his muscles tense from effort and anticipation.
The sound of their leather boots against the stone echoed off the concave walls, blending with the crackling of the torches and the rapid beat of his heart.
'So, all this time, I was in an underground cell?' Mirac wondered, his eyes scanning the dark, cramped surroundings, the walls of the staircase seeming to press in on him like a suffocating embrace.
Reaching the top, Carmen stopped in front of a wooden trapdoor, encrusted with rust, placed at the end of the spiral.
With a swift motion, she opened it, pushing it upwards.
A gust of night air immediately rushed into the staircase, cold and sharp, prickling their skin.
Carmen emerged first, stepping into the outer darkness, and Mirac followed without hesitation, setting his feet on damp, grassy ground.
They found themselves in a dense forest, surrounded by tall trees standing like silent sentinels, their branches interwoven to form a natural canopy.
Above them, beyond the jagged treetops, the full moon shone high in the sky, a perfect silver disk set amidst a sea of twinkling stars.
The pale light filtered through the foliage, painting the undergrowth with an ethereal, dappled glow.
For a moment, Mirac stood still, absorbing the vastness of that night, the contrast with the oppressive darkness of the cell still vivid in his memory.
'Wow!' Mirac thought, his eyes lost in the immensity of the starry sky. 'I'd almost forgotten how beautiful it was…'
Beside him, Carmen seemed equally captivated by the sight, though Mirac couldn't clearly see her expression due to the hood enveloping her face, leaving only a few details of her profile visible.
The moonlight slid across the soft skin of her neck, one of the few areas left uncovered by her perfectly fitted black clothing.
Yet, beneath the mask of determination she wore so proudly, a shadow of concern creased her features, almost imperceptible, like a crack in a sheet of ice.
"Right now, we're in the forest around the castle," Carmen said, her sharp voice breaking the silence of the night. "If we want to leave, we'll have to first get past the walls without being spotted by the night guards. So, it would be better to move without torches lit, to avoid drawing their attention. The sky is clear tonight, so we can simply use the light of the full moon to guide us."
With that said, Carmen turned and took a few steps, extinguishing the flame of the torch with a decisive breath.
"Fortunately, there aren't many guards on the southern side of the walls," she continued. "So, it'll be easier for us to get out by going that way and-"
"Carmen…" Mirac called, interrupting her, his tone low but firm.
The red-haired woman was about to turn instinctively, but she didn't even have time to begin the movement when she felt the hood slip off her head and a hand settle firmly on the back of her neck.
It was warm, resolute, and being alone in the forest, Carmen had no doubts: it was Mirac's hand!
"Thank you for giving me the potion and showing me the way out, but… I think you've misunderstood something…" he added, his voice calm but laced with an intensity that left no room for misinterpretation. "You see, I never said I wanted to do things your way…"
"What?!" Carmen was confused. "I don't understand… What do you mea-?!"
She was about to try turning around again, but Mirac's voice interrupted her as before:
"Stop!" he exclaimed. "Don't move… if you don't want to die."
Hearing that last word, Carmen flinched, freezing in place and instinctively obeying the command.
With the slight movement she had made to turn around, she had managed—with the corner of her eye—to catch a glimpse of Mirac behind her, his arm outstretched and his hand gripping the back of her neck.
In that split second, she had also met his gaze: the features of his face were rigid, his skin sculpted as if made of stone.
His green eyes were staring at her intensely, standing out in the darkness like those of an owl hunting for a prey.
"You know, today was the first time I used my Erasure ability," Mirac continued, with a feigned thoughtful tone. "In all these years, I've never tried or tested it, not even once. That's why I needed a brief moment of meditation and concentration to use it on my cell door. But I assure you of one thing, Carmen: the second time won't be anything like the first! The effect will be immediate, practically instantaneous. In fact, if you tried to escape now, you wouldn't even have time to free yourself from my grip before you disappeared completely, even before you realized it…"
Carmen was stunned, completely speechless, her face dismayed.
But then, Carmen found her voice again and decided to break the silence:
"Y-You want to kill me to get revenge?"
"Revenge?" Mirac repeated, tilting his head slightly as if the word itself surprised him. "I may be a resentful person, but that's not my intention now…"
"Then what…?!" she began, confused, trying to grasp the meaning of those words and his actions.
Mirac, however, didn't give her time to finish her sentence:
"You told me earlier that I only had two choices: die or come with you. But you know, there's at least a third option you didn't consider. In fact, I can simply leave this place on my own and then choose my own path. After all, I'm free to do whatever I want now! And I won't let anything or anyone deceive me and ruin my life again!"
Carmen swallowed nervously, the sound of her shallow breathing filling the heavy air between them.
Yet, despite everything, she wasn't afraid. It wasn't terror holding her back, nor fear of what might happen.
Her stillness didn't stem from panic or helplessness.
There was something deeper, something she couldn't clearly define: a tangle of emotions and thoughts she couldn't unravel.
She chose to remain silent, her lips sealed by a strong sense of resignation.
Mirac furrowed his brow, visibly dissatisfied with her lack of response.
He stared at her for a long moment, searching for some sign of reaction, but found none.
'Damn it!'
His face hardened slightly, and his patience seemed to waver.
"You're not saying anything?" he asked, his tone tinged with frustration. "Not even when the reason you've stayed here for fifteen years is about to abandon you?"
Carmen lowered her gaze, hesitating.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't care…" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "But I already told you before: I can't force you to follow me. After all, the choice of what to do is yours. I don't want you to live with the burden of a decision that doesn't truly feel like yours, nor drag you into something you're not fully convinced of."
Mirac laughed, a short, bitter laugh that echoed through the forest.
"Oh, really? Freedom of choice? Huh, that's quite funny and ironic, considering you're the one who condemned me to all this in the first place!"
Mirac took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, then continued in a more controlled tone:
"But you know what? I'm tired of arguing about it. We've already spent too many words on this topic. Now, why don't we focus on something different? For example, the real reason why someone secretly sent you to protect me all these years! My curiosity demands to know it immediately, once and for all. That's what I want now. So, would you be so kind as to finally tell me the truth?"
Mirac tightened his fingers slightly on Carmen's neck, not enough to hurt her, but just enough to make her feel the pressure of the moment—a silent warning.
Yet, despite the implicit threat, Carmen didn't speak.
Her eyes fixed on a distant point, her jaw clenched, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"So? Are you going to stay silent again?!" Mirac's voice rose slightly, charged with an emotion that wavered between disappointment and defiance. "Are you really willing to take your secrets with you to the grave?!"
But once again, Carmen said nothing. She didn't react in any way, simply staring at an owl perched on a branch in the distance—its immense eyes watching her in the darkness of the night.
Mirac tightened his grip on Carmen's neck again, this time causing her real pain.
But the silence persisted, undisturbed.
'Tsk, damn it!' Mirac muttered to himself, anger boiling within him.
Frustration was consuming him, a fire that grew with every moment of her stubborn silence.
Yet, when he spoke again, his voice softened, as if a shadow of weariness had replaced his anger:
"Every time I try to ask you something about yourself, about who you really are, you avoid the questions in every possible way. Sometimes you simply say you can't answer, other times you stay silent, saying nothing, just like you're doing now. But why? Why don't you want to tell me anything? Why don't you want to explain the real reason why you were sent here as an infiltrator? Who ordered you to do it? And why?"
Carmen took a deep breath, the sound of her breath blending with the rustling of the leaves moved by the wind.
Mirac remained silent, waiting for a worthy response…
Exactly as he had planned!
After all, his so-called "Erasure" ability was not instantaneous.
Multiplying something—in this case, by zero—required mathematical calculations, sometimes even long ones, so it took time to solve the equation and achieve the desired effect.
But while he was silently walking down the corridor behind her, Mirac had planned to stage this little "setup," deciding to lie to her about his powers and pretend to threaten to kill her, to put pressure on her so she would finally answer his questions.
All of this, in the hope of getting some useful information from her, and then deciding whether to really go with her to who knows where or not.
But unfortunately, none of this seemed to be working…
"Come on, say something! Anything!" Mirac exclaimed, trying to put even more pressure on her. "Don't stay silent! Answer my questions, damn it! Give me a reason—at least one—why I should trust you again! Please…"
That "please" echoed with a strange tone…
Almost a hint of nostalgia, an echo of the old times when they both laughed together…
When the shadows of betrayal and duty hadn't yet crept between them…
Carmen didn't respond.
She remained silent, lost in her thoughts, torn between the impulse to reveal what weighed on her heart and the fear of the consequences those words might trigger.
But in the end, after a long silence filled with tension, Carmen finally made her decision:
"What I can tell you… is that you and I aren't that different, Mirac…"
Her voice was calm, still as the water in a pond.
For the first time, the title—young Prince—that she had always used up until that moment was missing.
The red haired woman paused briefly, as if weighing every word she was about to speak.
Then, with a tone that carried the weight of a secret long kept, she dropped the truth:
"I'm also, in fact, a Chaotic…"