Chapter 98: Unwavering Loyalty
The following morning, Elara and Ariella left their homes, heavy-hearted yet determined. They didn't need to speak about where they were headed—both of them knew. Their footsteps led them through familiar forest paths, until at last, they reached the outskirts of the village, where the hut once belonging to Mira still stood, weathered by time but eerily preserved.
Inside, the air was thick, heavy with memories. And there he was.
Albert stood in the center of the dim hut, his back to them, facing the crumbling wall where the last light of dawn streamed through cracks in the wood.
"I see you've found me," he said coldly, without turning. "Meaning you know who I am."
Ariella stepped forward cautiously. "We're here for a talk. Do you mind listening to what we have to say?"
Albert slowly turned to face them.
The face of a boy no longer reflected youthful innocence. Instead, his eyes burned with a sinister gleam, cruel and sharp, brimming with hatred and malice far beyond his years.
"Talk?" he echoed, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You want to talk now? After all that was done to her? After all that was done to me?"
"We didn't know," Elara said gently, but firmly. "We didn't know you went through so much. The Queens showed us everything.What happened after your mother was cast out, how she died, how you were raised... We understand now."
"Understand?" Albert hissed. "What could you possibly understand? You live in warm homes, surrounded by people who love you. I had nothing! No one! Only him. Only Shaza. Only Papa."
Ariella tried again. "He may have raised you, but he twisted your pain into hatred. Don't you see that? He's using you, Albert. He wants to destroy everything, not just those who wronged you."
"And why shouldn't he?" Albert snapped, stepping closer. "He gave me a purpose. He fed me when I was starving. Held me when I cried for a mother I barely remember. He taught me how to survive, how to fight. To you, he's the shadow. To me, he's Papa. The only parent I have ever known."
Elara's voice cracked with emotion. "But what if there's another way? You don't have to follow him down this path. You could help us stop him. You could bring peace instead of more destruction."
"Peace?" Albert spat the word. "There can be no peace for people like me. The village made sure of that the day they chased my mother out. The day she froze to death because no one would open their doors. She died with me in her arms, cold and hungry. And yet she still whispered comfort to me. Mama, I called her. My first word, my last memory of her."
Silence fell. Not even the wind dared to disturb the stillness in the room.
Above them, a thick, swirling smoke began to gather around the rooftop beams, nearly invisible at first in the dim light. But as Albert spoke, it thickened, curling like a living thing—rejoicing, as if feeding off his fury. It danced and swirled with joy at his declaration, pulsing in the corners like an echo of laughter.
Albert's gaze darkened further. "I will never turn my back on the only one who stayed. If Shaza wants vengeance, I will help him. I owe him that and more."
Seeing no breakthrough, the girls exchanged a glance. There was nothing more they could say.
"Then we're sorry," Elara whispered. "We truly are."
Without another word, they turned and left the hut, the weight of their failure pressing on their shoulders.
As the door shut behind them and the morning air met their skin, the girls didn't speak. Their silence was not from tension, but sorrow.
They walked back slowly, each step heavier than the last. The village loomed in the distance, but their hearts weren't in it. The path they followed was lined with memories—bitter ones. And as they moved in silence, their thoughts wandered back to a moment that now felt impossibly distant.
Elara's mind reeled with guilt. She remembered the time when the Guardian of the Crevice had helped them test the infant Albert. Back then, the villagers had already turned against Mira, whispering accusations and labeling her a cursed woman. They, the girls, had stood by the edge of that crowd, unsure of what to say. They hadn't raised their voices. They hadn't stood between Mira and the wrath of the village. And now, it was too late.
If we had just spoken up… Elara thought bitterly. If we had just told them he was no threat, maybe he wouldn't have turned into this.
Beside her, Ariella was lost in her own regrets. The images haunted her: Mira, clutching the baby close, eyes wide and pleading. The desperation of a mother turned away by her own people. And the cold silence that followed when no one—no one—offered her shelter. Not even them. The two girls had been afraid. Afraid to speak against the elders, afraid of standing alone.
We didn't save her, Ariella thought. We let them drive her out. And now he hates us, and maybe he's right to.
They reached a small rise in the path and paused for breath. The wind rustled through the trees around them, but it did nothing to lift the heaviness in their chests.
"Elara," Ariella said softly, "do you think... it would've changed anything? If we had stopped them?"
"I don't know," Elara replied after a moment. "But at least he wouldn't have grown up thinking no one cared."
They fell silent again.
Behind them, the hut still stood, but Albert was no longer inside.
Albert remained behind only for a moment, letting the silence linger. Then he, too, walked out of the hut, heading back into the forest—back to the only home he'd ever known.
The trees welcomed him like old friends, and deep within the woods, a familiar shadow waited.
"I have completed my revenge," Albert said, kneeling before the darkness.
Shaza, the shadow, drifted forward. Though faceless, his presence radiated satisfaction.
"That was only the beginning, my son," he said softly, his voice like smoke. "You still have much more to accomplish."
Albert looked up, confused for a moment. "More? What more is there to do?"
"If we are to live peacefully and happily, as we promised, we must finish what we started."
Albert hesitated. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but he quickly buried it. "Of course, Papa. Whatever you ask."
He called him Papa, though he knew his true name was Shaza. Though the villagers called him the shadow, to Albert, he was still the only family he had.
He would never betray him.