Chapter two

  Joseph gives larceny a try

  The late-winter wind billowed through the Enitial District, a playful force that swirled through the branches of ancient oak and maple trees. Each gust sent vibrant leaves—emerald green, snowy white, and dull grey—spiraling into the air, where they whirled together like a living tapestry of color. The spectacle painted the skyline with the rich hues of winter, a fleeting moment of whiteness beauty amidst the mundane routines of daily life.

  As you weave through the mist-cloaked streets, your gaze is drawn to a weathered wooden house, its paint peeling like layers of an old secret waiting to be uncovered. It nestled in the shadows, hemmed in by dilapidated fences that sag and sway in the relentless wind. They barely hold their ground, practically inviting perpetrators to get in—you can bend down and crawl underneath them right now—no joking, it’s a tight fit, but possible.

  The mailbox, a relic of charm long since faded, stands wobbling on its rusty post. Its surface is cracked and dirt-streaked, the letters “M-A-I-L” nearly obscured by years of neglect. The box itself was literally moaning in the wind, holding back a symphony of creaks and groans, struggling to prevent itself from shattering and breaking apart, which itself should have known that it was just a matter of time before its owner had it removed, having not housed a single piece of since thirty years before, but that was particularly a mischievous prank from the mailman.

  But today, fate had different plans.

  The sharp trill of the doorbell sliced through the air, causing the family within to pause in surprise. As they opened the front door, an unexpected sight greeted them: the mailbox door swings open wide, revealing a neatly folded letter nestled within—a long-lost promise of communication and possibility. In a heartbeat, the son bolts forward, his sneakers kicking up gravel in his eager rush to seize the letter that glimmers with potential. His fingers grasped the envelope with a sense of urgency. Cradling it like a precious gem, he hurries back to his father—a slender, sharp-eyed man with a cascade of unruly curls that frame his brow, obscuring his heavy-lidded, bespectacled gaze.

  As the father took the letter from his son's eager hands, his curiosity piqued. He peered at the letter, intrigue etched on his face, as the wind continued its swirling dance around them, carrying with it a tantalizing promise of change.

  Yet the mother was nowhere to be found.

  No need to say, the family was unmistakably those victims that suffered from poverty.

  Being poor was hard, especially since it was a crime here in the Enitial District, and that’s why their mother got dragged away, locked in jail till she rotted there. That was a punishment for an extremely poor family like theirs.

  Though their father was convinced that the government was right, that families like theirs, who could contribute nothing to the district, were an encumbrance that obviously prevented the community from advancing further.

  All the citizen were allowed to ride roughshod over them, their kids’ classmates could bully them without being punished — instead, they’re rewarded for that, the teachers are allowed to give them unfair treatment, (such as giving out exceptional low scores though they were the best in class, and it’s frankly that that’s the kindest of all) — the more unequal it felt, the more salaries the teachers got at the end of the year.

  But the kids rarely complained — they ate the shame alone when night fell over their pillows.

  With a mixture of excitement and wariness, he delicately unfolded the richly textured letter, its edges crisp yet slightly weathered, hinting at the unexpected journey awaited them down the road. He scanned for any signs of mischief—perhaps a hidden spider or a venomous insect lurking within its folds—before finally allowing himself to read the elegant, swirling script that danced across the page.

  As the words sank in, disbelief turned into pure exhilaration, and his lips curled into a wide, infectious grin that lit up his face, a hearty laugh bursted forth from his lips.

  “Oh my goodness! Can you believe this? You’re both chosen, my beloved children! Yes, chosen!” he cried out, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as he turned toward his kids, his joy spilling over like an overflowing fountain.

  His son, a striking young man with a cascade of curly golden hair that glimmered in the snow, looked up from the poetry book in his hands. At sixteen, He had just tossed his graduation cap into the air a few weeks prior, the echoes of his classmates still fresh in his ears. At that very moment, he was engrossed in a collection of poems, the words weaving imagery that made the ordinary feel extraordinary. Beside him, his sister leaned her head on his shoulder, her bright eyes twinkling with curiosity and delight. Her long, dark hair framed her face like a halo, spilling over her shoulders as she nestled closer.

  “Get off, Gabrielle.” He taunted his sister, Gabrielle. She was a passionate and sophisticated girl who had recently gotten into college.

  And had her arms wrapped around her brother’s waist, pointing at the faraway horizon, she whispered in her brother’s ear, “Joseph, look, a phoenix was rising, just above there, in the sunbeams, can you see?”

  Joseph rolled his eyes impatiently.

  Perhaps his sister’s best personal quirk is immense imagination. She stared at the leaves falling on the ground with her bulging blue eyes. She raised her head sleepily and asked in a misty voice, “What is it, Dad?”

  “The invitation to the Elite Academy has arrived, and you two were chosen!” her father shouted joyfully, his voice echoing through the quiet neighborhood as he paced excitedly around the unkempt plot of dirt outside their home, just inches away from the weathered fence. His eyes sparkled with pride, and the air buzzed with a sense of anticipation and possibility.

  Joseph gasped in surprise, and Gabrielle looked as if she was gonna burst. Together, they soaked in the happiness that radiated from their father, fully aware that after this, their lives shall forever altered.

  “When can we go?” Asked Joseph gingerly.

  “After this semester, now, off to school, both of you.” Shouted the father as he kissed them both on the cheek.

  Joseph dragged over his dusty, overlong sweater that hung on the shelves, swung his backpack over his shoulder, swept the sleeves across his forehead, kissed his father goodbye, and set off along the muddy pavement with his sister Gabrielle.

  Joseph left his sister at her school gate, and after waving goodbye, he hastily promised a new typewriter for her birthday (Gabrielle was engaged in writing novels).

  Before he could set foot out of the school gate, he was called over,

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Gabrielle asked tentatively, shaking his hands.

  “Nothin’, I’m off to school, see yeh’ soon.” Muttered Joseph impatiently.

  He kept the painful memories of his school relationships locked away from Gabrielle, aware that a heavy, dark cloud of sorrow had always seemed to hover over him, casting its shadow wherever he went. The thought of opening up felt pointless; if he were to share his burdens, he imagined her warm, compassionate gaze might soften at the edges, yet he also sensed that her comforting words would only skim the surface of his deep ocean of pain. Comfort, such useless and perfunctory words, much like how whispers evaporate into the cold night air.

  Too many nights had passed where he lay curled beneath layers of blankets, tears cascading onto his pillow as waves of anguish washed over him. He often replayed the cruel taunts and mockery that echoed in his mind, relentless and stinging, and the indifference of his professors, who turned a blind eye to his struggles, deepening the chasm of loneliness that seemed to expand around him.

  As he meandered down the cracked, uneven sidewalk, vivid memories surged like a tidal wave—those bitter nights when he would burrow deep under a thick quilt, his face buried in the plush fabric of his pillows, desperately seeking solace from a world that felt harsh and unkind.

  It struck him with a cruel clarity that not once during his childhood had he experienced a single dream untouched by fear—each night was painted with scenes of deep anguish: the sharp sting of an unexpected punch or the suffocating dread of finding himself trapped in a restroom stall, the handle stubbornly refusing to turn as panic surged through him like wildfire.

  Each morning, he would awaken to a damp, cold bed, and found himself drenched in dirty liquid—the remnants of his tears mingling with the cruel prank pulled by his roommates—their laughter echoing in his ears as he recalled the humiliation of a bottle of toilet water dangling mischievously above his head, poured down over him when he slept, their reckless jest casting a long shadow over his already fragile spirit.

  Yet, amidst all this, there was something undeniably peculiar about his life. He found himself in the Enitial District, a unique refuge believed to be the last sanctuary untouched by nuclear radiation after the Terrible War and free from the contagious global epidemic that had ravaged so many lives.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Joseph let out a deep sigh.

  At least he was fortunate enough to survive.

  Came to think of it, he was, indeed, stricken by luck this morning.

  He came to a halt at the crossroad, but his mind kept racing.

  Of course he knew about the Elite Academy—the institute sparkled like a beacon of hope for countless students, the place where dreams converged with reality. Every century, the government conducted rigorous exams to sift through the brightest minds, granting a privileged few the chance not only to learn within these hallowed halls but to one day inspire as educators.

  He would be dying to get the job, his heart racing at the thought of what lay ahead. Now, after all his hard work and dedication, it was finally within his grasp—he had been chosen.

  But now, the focus shifted to starting the school year with speed and safety in mind. As he approached the tall, wrought-iron school gate, he inhaled deeply, allowing the crisp morning air to fill his lungs. With a surge of determination, he steadied himself, squared his shoulders and pushed the gate open, stepping into the bustling courtyard where the sounds of laughter and chatter mingled in the air, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

  He saw his classmate walking in packs, gossiping excitedly as they went past him. Joseph caught a few words or so, although he knew it couldn’t be anything good.

  “Weirdo — better die — wish Lord’s gonna punish him — you bet — I’ll steal his assignments — sort of —”

  As they glanced back and sighted Joseph, they roared with laughter and took off. Joseph had gotten used to this kind of welcome every single day in the last term, but still, that hurt, painfully so.

  As he settled into the astrophysics classroom, his gaze drifted to the mesmerizing crystal multitouch wall before him. It was alive with a dazzling dance of planets and asteroids, spinning and twirling in a cosmic ballet. In that moment, he couldn't help but think how much more captivating they were than his classmates—after all, unlike the chatterboxes around him, at least these guys wouldn’t pop out of the screen to call him out for zoning out, wait —

  “How could you possibly give us such an impolite stare?” Screamed one of the planet as it whirled around and soared toward him at top speed.

  Joseph woke in a startle.

  “For heaven’s sake, how could you fall asleep during lessons?” Shouted the astrophysics professor, agitated.

  “Sorry, sir.” Muttered Joseph as he was asked to get out of the classroom, and was ordered to kneel in the corridor outside for the entire class.

  He kept being punched and pinned on the shoulder as his classmate came out, laughing hysterically as they went.

  “That’s alright.” Whispered a voice.

  Joseph whirled back, he didn’t find something silvery was gliding out of his own body, though, and within seconds, the silvery light disappeared.

  Amidst the vibrant chaos of the bustling school hallway, Joseph stood trapped in a whirlwind of laughter and jabs from his classmates. Each punch and mean jab felt sharper, but he managed to brush it off. He swallowed hard, forcing a smile that barely masked the discomfort brewing inside him.

  Suddenly, a soothing voice emerged from the cacophony, its calm intensity cutting through the noise.

  “It’s alright.” a calm voice floated through the noise, cutting through the din like a soothing balm. Startled, Joseph whipped around, eyes wide with curiosity and a flicker of hope, darting across the sea of faces.

  It was then that a captivating, silvery light began to seep from within him, shimmering like stardust caught in a beam of moonlight. The mesmerizing glow swirled around him, casting ephemeral reflections that shimmered like a fragile wisp of smoke. It danced in the air, glimmering momentarily before disappearing into nothingness. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the mysterious light faded, leaving Joseph in stunned silence. The laughter of his classmates returned, now a harsh echo that reverberated around him, blending with the confusion that clouded his mind.

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  Joseph stared. No one was there.

  Somewhere far, far away, a window burst open, and someone poked out his head. She smirked and stuck the speaker to her mouth, “My lord, his animurill, it is awakened. It’s time to destroy Tyrina’s territory once and for all.”

  At lunchtime, Joseph locked himself in the cramped stalls of the restroom, the echo of his solitude all around him, the air thick with a mix of melancholy and loneliness. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a pale glow that illuminated the stark, white tiles, magnifying the sense of isolation that enveloped him. With a grimace, he unwrapped a questionable burrito, its appearance doing little to inspire appetite, and took a hefty bite. He stuffed it into his mouth, each chew a battle against the unpleasant texture and the overwhelming anguish of how he had been treated—he had did nothing wrong. Suddenly, a soft, almost hesitant knock shattered the stillness, reverberating off the cold toilet seat. “Leave me alone!” he shouted, irritation bubbling to the surface. But to his astonishment, instead of retreating, the door swung open with a creak that felt almost sinister, as if drawn by some unseen force. Joseph's breath caught in his throat as he peered into the opening, expecting to see someone on the other side. Instead, he was met with an empty hallway, the air heavy with an eerie stillness— but he did felt someone stumble in, knocking his half-eaten burrito to the ground.

  “What the hell?” He mumbled.

  “Here, listen, you mustn’t go there, you can’t, it’ll ruin you if you fail to resurrect Tyrina, okay?” Whispered whoever-opened-the-door in a hush voice, and before Joseph could even ask what was going on, the whatnot had staggered away.

  Within seconds, Joseph found himself staring at a cracked door, but he failed to notice several drops of blood on the ground. He just kept mumbling to himself.

  Finally, Joseph decided it was time for a break. He confidently strode into the library, envisioning a few moments of tranquility all to himself.

  His curly golden hair glimmered subtly under the soft, dim light as he wandered through the rows of towering bookshelves. His fingers grazed the spines of thick volumes, feeling the embossed titles and the worn texture of the bindings.

  Suddenly, his wandering gaze was drawn downward to a particularly thick, heavy, and weathered book that sat tucked away in a dusty corner, almost invisible among the other neglected tomes.

  At first, Joseph thought little of it, and walked past, continuing his quest for something captivating to read. However, as he ventured deeper into the next aisle of bookshelves, an unsettling a chill ran down his spine.

  He recognized this aisle—wasn’t it the same one he had just crossed? There it was again, in the corner, sat that same heavy, worn-out book, now appearing even more mysterious, seemingly beckoning him with its presence.

  With a rush of unease, Joseph quickened his pace, weaving through the labyrinth of shelves, yet every turn led him to the same exact bookshelf, defiantly presenting the thick tome among countless other forgotten stories.

  A soft gasp escaped his lips as his hand, trembling with curiosity, reached out toward the intriguing book. He picked it up, a thick layer of dust swirling up and catching the dim light as he blew gently to clear it away.

  The cover revealed an ornate design, glinting with an unusual quality, and one word, intricately embroidered with golden threads, stood out remarkably: “Animurill.”

  He felt a chill run down his spine as he carried the book to a secluded bench.

  He sat down gingerly, placing the book before him on the polished wooden surface with care, its weight palpable with mystery. With tentative fingers, Joseph cracked the cover open, and to his astonishment, the book seemed to spring to life, flinging itself open to page 76 as if it was eager to reveal its secrets.

  The words flowed across the page, captivating him with their rhythm and beauty, as they seemed to dance and weave into his thoughts. “An embodiment of Animurill, a split soul birthed from a Sensational Ruler, morphed into human form to accompany the rulers on their grand missions. When a ruler experiences the pangs of abandonment—and this is a fate that befalls many—they generate what we called ‘Self.’ This ethereal essence detaches from their corporeal form(physical vessel), taking shape as someone destined to nurture and assist them. Animurills are bestowed with unique powers, often mirroring the very abilities of their ruler. When the mission reaches its conclusion, they vanish, seamlessly gliding back into the ruler’s body, intertwining to mend their shared soul.”

  Joseph’s breath hitched, astonishment flooding through him as the words resonated deeply within him. Suddenly, the book lifted effortlessly from the desk, floating inches above his palms, and transforming into a breathtaking cascade of millions of shimmering stars that sparkled brightly before evaporating into the air like whispers of magic, leaving him breathless and yearning for more.

  That afternoon, the bustling auditorium came alive with energy as students eagerly gathered for the grand assembly. The greenish glows outside streamed through the tall windows, casting emerald rays over the crowd, while colorful banners shrouded with snow hung from the ceiling, fluttering slightly in the gentle breeze. The air was filled with the intoxicating scent of freshly polished wood mingled with the earthy aroma of potted plants that adorned the stage, creating an inviting atmosphere. The assembly was a celebration—a ceremony dedicated to praising the esteemed leader of the district, a figure whom many revered, and some even hailed as the savior.

  Excited chatter rippled through the rows of students, their voices blending into a harmonious buzz as they discussed their poems and practiced the melodies of their songs in anticipation of the festivities.

  Suddenly, a cheerful voice pierced the murmur behind him. “Hey!” Joseph turned around, his heart lifting at the sight of his only friend, Violeta. She stood there, a beacon of joy with her bright smile and dark curls bouncing with enthusiasm. Her eyes sparkled like stars as she approached, instantly brightening Joseph's mood in the midst of the crowd. They quickly made their way into the seating areas, squeezing and shoveled through the crowds until they claimed two seats in the middle of the third row—an ideal spot to soak in the festivities. Just as Joseph settled comfortably, a cloud seemed to cast a shadow over his moment of bliss; the unmistakable figure of the school bully came right over to him in no time flat.

  With a smug grin plastered on his face, the bully sauntered toward him, sending a wave of apprehension through Joseph. He braced himself for yet another encounter he’d rather avoid, knowing all too well how this scenario typically played out.

  He scorned at Joseph, “Out of the way.”

  Joseph, sighing, turned to Violeta, “Let’s go, Violeta, just —”

  “Who the hell are you talking to?” Came the piercing voice of the bully.

  “My friend, better than you lot.” Answered Joseph bitterly.

  “Your friend, why don’t I even see a dumb walnut or whatnot is sitting beside you, obviously, it’s an empty chair, are you talking to a chair?”

  Joseph looked utterly aghast.

  He swept his gaze through the lively crowds, anxiety and excitement twisting in his stomach as he finally locked eyes with Violeta. Her smile was infectious, brightening the dim space around them like brightness breaking through clouds. The way her dark curls danced playfully as she turned toward him only added to her charm, making the moment feel almost enchanted. Yet, the warmth in his chest quickly turned to ice as he noticed the other students—every single one of them had their eyes fixed on him, many suppressing mischievous grins behind cupped hands.

  “Are you still there?” Joseph blurted out, the words feeling painfully foolish as they slipped from his lips. “Lost in thought, are we?” the bully sneered, amusement glinting in his eyes like a predator toying with its prey. With a swift shove, he sent Joseph sprawling off his chair and onto the cold, unforgiving tile floor. Laughter erupted around him, a cacophony that echoed in his ears and mingled with his growing frustration.

  “But—can’t you see her?” Joseph shot back, desperation creeping into his voice. He needed them to understand, to see what he saw. The connection he felt with Violeta was palpable, grounding him amidst the swirling chaos of adolescent cruelty. giving him a rough shove that sent him wobbling off his chair. Could Violeta really be a figment of his imagination? The thought gnawed at him, though he had no answers.

  Just then, the intercom crackled to life, cutting through the tension like a knife.

  “Would Mr. Rugnetta please come to the front gate of the school?” the voice boomed, echoing off walls lined with dull posters and restless energy. Joseph froze, a jolt of panic coursing through him—he was stranded in a storm of confusion, with no time to make sense of anything, especially not Violeta's presence.

  Outside the gates, amidst the cacophony of laughter and chatter, he spotted a man standing with commanding poise, dressed in a meticulously tailored navy suit that hinted at sophistication. His striking green eyes shone brightly from behind round, horn-rimmed glasses, radiating a mixture of warmth and seriousness. Beside him stood Gabrielle, her vibrant smile lighting up her entire face, her long hair flowing like silk, catching the light as she waved enthusiastically.

  “I’m here to take you away to the Elite Academy.” Said the official nonchalantly. There was an inexplicable coldness in his tones that sent shivers down their spine.

  But that didn’t seem to dim their excitement.

  “Well,” said Joseph, “We haven’t packed yet.”

  The official didn’t answer; instead, he continued to stare at them.

  Taking it as a yes, Joseph darted back, but before he could get far —

  “You don’t need to.”

  Far away, the father watched as a deer dashed into the forest beyond. He gazed as their shadows quietly disappeared under the greenish street lamps, imagining his children’s fading figures. Tears welled in the father’s eyes, but he managed to keep them from falling. His tears carried his blessings as his children moved further and further away from him, until they disappeared from sight. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he had a feeling he might never see his children again, and maybe this was the last time.

  They had no idea what lay ahead, and it didn’t look promising.

  And it could be nothing good.

  The official led them into a spacious clearing, where a magnificent motorcycle stood glistening in the greenish light, its chrome frame shimmering like liquid silver under the starry. He flashed a confident smile and gestured for them to hop on, and with a sharp whistle that pierced the air, the engine roared to life with a deep, throaty growl.

  As they accelerated, the wind whipped around them, a fierce gale that whipped their faces with an icy, invigorating rush. The air cut through their lungs, sharp and crisp, as they thrust themselves into the great expanse beyond. In moments, In an instant, the chaotic symphony of honking horns and revving engines melted away, replaced by the exhilarating sound of the motorcycle slicing through the atmosphere.

  In a blur of color and motion, the motorcycle soared over the landscape, the earth falling away beneath them. Every bump became an exhilarating leap, sending the bike soaring into the air, twisting and flipping with breathtaking grace, while their laughter echoed like music amidst the rush.

  They could hardly comprehend how swiftly they were moving; one moment they were arcing through the sky, and the next, they landed safely back on the road as the tires making contact with a satisfying thud that reverberated through their bones.

  Their ride took them across murky dirt trails that splashed up mud in playful sprays, through shimmering puddles that glistened like scattered gemstones. The thrill ignited within Joseph, coursing a flame of exhilaration as the motorcycle kicked up showers of sparks, the wheels grinding against the rough, cracked surface.

  They dashed across a zigzagging pavement, surged through a narrow, grimy byway, The air was thick with the earthy scent of nature, mingling with a hint of wildflowers. Soon, they zipped alongside a twisting rivulet, the water sparkling in the sunlight, reflecting the joy of their journey. Joseph could sense his sister’s breath hitching behind him, her hands clutching him tighter, as they zipped through a chaotic crossroad, her hands gave a slight tremor.

  Joseph smiled, this time, wholeheartedly, he knew, deep inside, that somehow, he was free from humiliations, just yet.

  And finally, the motorcycle skidded to a standstill.

  Getting off the motorcycle, Joseph breathed a sigh of relief. The Elite Academy loomed ahead, rose majestically on the horizon, its grand silhouette carved against a brilliant cerulean sky, the ornate spires piercing the sky, adorned with intricate carvings that whispered tales of its illustrious past. As he approaches the impressive gates, beautifully crafted from wrought iron and surrounded by stately oak trees, he took a moment to reflect. The air is thick with the delicate fragrance of blooming jasmine, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves that swept across his cheeks.

  Glancing around with their mouth fell open, a voice suddenly rang behind them, “Welcome to the Elite House, I’m the vice-counselor of the Privileged Class, you may call me Natalie.”

  The twins gasped in surprise, spinning around. Joseph found a severe-looking woman heading toward them.

  Nothing like how this woman had appeared would have ever happened around anywhere near the twins’ house. She had appeared so quietly and had literally emerged from a gush of wind that her sudden appearance made the twins jump back in surprise. The woman called Natalie turned gracefully and indicated that they follow.

  As they made their way through the throngs of people bustling at the entrance, Joseph was swept up in the palpable buzz of the crowd. Laughter and excited chatter danced through the air, punctuated by the clicking of cameras as families posed for snapshots, their faces lit with contagious joy.

  The only landmarks in sight were a quaint pharmacy with peeling paint and an impressive replica of the Parthenon, its white columns gleaming under the night sky. Drawn by a mix of intrigue and necessity, Joseph made his way toward the pharmacy, which loomed just a few paces away.

  Leaning closer to the window, he spotted a lively group of women. Peering through the window, he spotted a group of women, all dressed in outfits reminiscent of Natalie’s style, happily collecting bottles of pills on the shelves. Their voices were a flurry of animated whispers as they conversed eagerly with the shop owner. He was a large, burly man with a rounded belly that strained against his tight shirt, and his bald head was a canvas of colorful tattoos that snaked across his skin.

  As Joseph caught his eye, the man narrowed his gaze, a flicker of curiosity mingled with suspicion. In a flash of instinct, Joseph ducked low, slipping seamlessly into a gathering of girls who were clustered together, their heads blent close as they exchanged hushed secrets and giggles. The scent of sweet perfume and the sound of their lilting laughter enveloped him like a cocoon, and for a moment, he blended into their joyful camaraderie, feeling the excitement of the day swirl around him.

  A body no older than he was having a tantrum, hurling precious paraphernalia and possessions hard to the ground, the expensive merchandise and devices all suggested he was from a very wealthy family.

  And staring at him in an almost hungry stare, Joseph could make out a golden necklace sitting on a pile of rustled leaves.

  Joseph’s hands trembled.

  Soon enough, he found his eyes glued to the smooth surface of the jewel.

  His family had always been poor — extremely poor — and he had always been impoverished.

  Joseph glanced over his shoulder and noticed Natalie nowhere to be found.

  Joseph crouched low, scanning the surroundings with a keen eye to ensure the coast was clear.

  His heart thumped violently in his chest, echoing the urgency of the moment, while beads of cold sweat trickled down his forehead. The humid air clung to him, and he could feel a cold sweat trickling down his forehead, mingling with the warm humidity that enveloped him. His palms felt slick and clammy, betraying the surge of anxiety coursing through him as he prepared to make his move. The clearing was suddenly eerily silent save for the soft crunch of brittle leaves beneath his rugged boots, each step amplifying the tension in the air.

  Locking his gaze onto the necklace, he marveled at how it glimmered, a brilliant flash of gold under the dark night and gemstone sparkling like a beacon amidst the chaotic carpet of ochre and gold leaves scattered around it.

  With a burst of determination, he knelt beside it, the cool damp earth pressing against his knees. Tremors coursed through his body from the sheer intensity of the moment, as the beauty of the necklace—a delicate chain adorned with shimmering jewels—drew him in. Inhaling deeply to steady himself, he reached cautiously toward the breathtaking piece, his fingers quivering as they neared the stunning treasure nestled amidst the scattered foliage, each second stretching out in suspense.

  Having the jewel glowing faintly in his palms sent a shiver down his spine, but he was also shocked to see that three words were etched at the bottom, ‘For Joseph Rugnetta’.

  So, whoever possessed that jewel knew him and was intended to give it to him, but why?

  Where could that lead Joseph?

  Was Joseph going to face something related to this?

  Gasping for breath, Joseph hurriedly slipped the brilliant jewel into the depths of his inner pocket, its smooth surface cool against his skin. He wove through the crowd, the hustle of bustle of the crowd was muted around him as he navigated.

  Finally, he spotted Gabrielle and Natalie, their backs pressed against the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak tree, their expressions a mixture of concern and impatience.

  “Where have you been?” Gabriel’s voice sliced through the lively chaos, his brows furrowed and his gaze unwavering, as if trying to pierce through Joseph’s facade. Joseph felt his mouth go dry as he fumbled for words. “I, uh, it’s nothing—really—” Before he could gather his thoughts, Natalie’s piercing glare locked onto him, her arms over her hips. The flicker of surprise in her wide eyes was like a spark in dry tinder, igniting a torrent of guilt within him. He could almost hear the frantic beat of his heart as he repeated his defense in his mind: ‘I didn’t steal it. My name is carved on it.’

  Suddenly, a sharp crack reverberated in the air, jolting him from his thoughts. Joseph’s head snapped toward the source of the noise, and his breath hitched. The grand entrance gate, adorned with intricate carvings and ancient moss, crackled, revealing a dark void within, and releasing a swirling mist of pale vapor that coiled outwards like ghostly tendrils.

  Somewhere inside, a key was inserted into the keyhole, it turned and clicked open, and the gate swung open.