THE PATH OF DESPAIR
The dawn filtered faintly through the trees of the forest. The birdsong tried to restore calm to the surroundings, but the air was still heavy with the lingering echo of Zyrion's agonized screams. Quindarion walked slowly, supporting Zyrion, who could barely stand. Every step was a silent battle, and the cursed white iron mask glowed with a strange shimmer under the sunlight.
"How…?" Zyrion murmured, his voice hoarse and muffled behind the mask. "How can you bear to see me like this? This… isn't life, Quindarion."
"Zyrion, shut up," Quindarion replied, his tone harsher than usual. "I'm not going to let you sink into self-pity. This doesn't end here. Not for you, not for us."
Zyrion staggered and dropped to his knees. "And how would you know? This… hurts. Not just physically, but here," he said, placing a hand over his chest. "It feels like this thing is devouring my soul. I don't know how much longer I can endure."
Quindarion knelt before him, grabbed his shoulders, and forced him to look at him. His blue eyes shone with an unusual intensity. "Zyrion, listen to me. This mask does not define who you are. No matter what you feel right now, no matter how much it hurts, you are stronger than this. Do not give up, do you hear me?"
Zyrion swallowed hard, desperation flooding his eyes. "And what if I can't? What if… what if this thing consumes me completely?"
Quindarion gave him a faint smile and tapped his shoulder. "Then it'll be my responsibility to remind you who you are. You're not alone in this, my friend."
After hours of walking, Quindarion and Zyrion finally reached the small improvised shelter where the rest of the group was waiting. Caelithra, Kyrahna, and Karion sat around a campfire. As they arrived, Caelithra jumped to her feet.
"Finally! Where the hell were you two? We've been waiting all night," she said impatiently, but her expression shifted the moment she noticed Zyrion's condition. "What happened to him?"
Kyrahna rushed over, staring at the mask with a mixture of concern and horror. "Zyrion? What is that on your face?"
Zyrion didn't answer. He lowered his head, unable to face their eyes.
Quindarion raised a hand, stopping further questions. "It's a curse. An enemy attacked him and placed this mask on him. We don't know exactly what it is, but we can't remove it… yet."
"Yet?" Karion repeated, frowning. "How do you plan to remove something that looks fused to his face? And what kind of dark magic is this?"
"That doesn't matter now," Quindarion said firmly. "What matters is keeping him safe and finding help. There's someone who might know how to break this curse."
Caelithra crossed her arms, staring seriously at Zyrion. "And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Sit around and wait for that thing to consume him? Because let me tell you, he doesn't look good."
"Caelithra, for once, could you not be so insensitive?" Kyrahna snapped, glaring at her. "Zyrion needs our support, not your sarcastic comments."
Caelithra scoffed and looked away, but said nothing else. Karion approached Zyrion and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, brother. We'll find a way to fix this. I promise."
Zyrion slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes glimmering behind the mask. "Thank you… all of you. I'm sorry for worrying you."
Later that night, while everyone rested around the fire, Quindarion remained awake, sitting beside Zyrion. The mask continued to emit a faint glow, as if it were alive.
"Why are you still awake?" Zyrion asked quietly.
"Because someone has to watch over you," Quindarion replied, staring into the flames. "Besides, I can't sleep knowing what you're going through."
Zyrion let out a bitter laugh. "You know… this is the worst thing that's ever happened to me, but I also… feel like there's something else behind all this. Like this mask is here for a reason."
Quindarion raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," Zyrion admitted. "Just a feeling. But if that feeling is right… maybe this isn't just a curse. Maybe it's something more."
"Well, whatever it is," Quindarion said, patting his back, "you're not facing it alone. I promise you that."
Before the dawn broke the night's stillness, Quindarion gathered the group. "Listen, everyone. From now on, our priority is to find a way to free Zyrion from this curse. But that means working together—no arguing, no doubting."
"And how do you plan to do that?" Caelithra asked, raising an eyebrow.
"There's someone who might help," Quindarion said. "An old friend of mine, a scholar who knows more about curses than anyone else I've ever met. But reaching him won't be easy."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Karion said, standing up. "If there's even a chance to help Zyrion, we need to take it."
Kyrahna nodded, placing a hand on Zyrion's shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll find a solution. I swear."
Zyrion looked at his friends, feeling warmth inside despite the darkness surrounding him. "Thanks. All of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
As the group prepared for their next mission, a shadow moved silently within the forest. The masked man who had cursed Zyrion watched them from afar, his white mask glowing under the moonlight.
"Let the game begin," he murmured before disappearing into the shadows.
The group pushed through the dense forest, following Quindarion with determination, though the air was thick with unease. Zyrion walked in silence, the white iron mask covering his face, each step a cruel reminder of his fate. Caelithra, Kyrahna, and Karion exchanged worried glances, but none dared to break the silence.
"Are we close?" Karion finally asked, his tone almost challenging, as if he wanted to push time forward.
"Just a bit more," Quindarion answered without turning. "My old friend lives in a hidden cave at the foot of those mountains." He pointed toward dark hills looming in the distance.
Caelithra scoffed, crossing her arms. "I hope this 'old friend' is as wise as you say. We can't afford to waste time."
Quindarion stopped and turned to face her, his eyes serious. "I promise you, if anyone can help us, it's him. But if you don't trust me, you're free to go back and wait for things to fix themselves magically."
Caelithra raised an eyebrow but chose not to respond. Kyrahna gave her a warning look before approaching Zyrion.
"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, trying to meet his eyes through the cracks of the mask.
"Like I'm trapped in a nightmare," Zyrion replied, his voice muffled and weary. "But… thanks for asking."
Kyrahna nodded and gently squeezed his shoulder before stepping back.
The sun was setting when they reached a hidden opening between the mountain rocks. A dark, damp cave stretched before them, lit by faint blue crystals embedded in the walls. Quindarion called out.
"Elaron! It's me—Quindarion! I need your help!"
A few seconds passed in absolute silence before an elderly figure emerged from the shadows. He was a man with long white hair, wearing worn yet elegant robes. His deep blue eyes seemed to pierce the souls of those who met his gaze.
"Quindarion," the old man said, his voice weary yet warm. "It's been a long time. What brings you here?"
"A curse," Quindarion said urgently, pointing at Zyrion. "This young man needs your help. A white iron mask was placed on his face, and it's… consuming him."
Elaron looked at Zyrion intently, studying him. He slowly raised a trembling hand. "I can feel it… dark magic. Ancient. This is not the work of any ordinary enemy. Quindarion, who did this?"
"A masked man, one of the Zykrath Nolthem," Quindarion replied. "Can you help him?"
Elaron sighed deeply and stepped back, his expression turning grim. "Quindarion… this is beyond my power."
The words fell upon the group like cold water. Kyrahna stepped forward, disbelief in her voice. "What do you mean? You're a master of ancient arts—how can you not help him?"
"It's not a matter of skill," Elaron answered sadly. "This mask is not just a cursed object. It's a direct link to the Void. Its purpose is not merely to torment him; it is designed to turn him into something else. Something I cannot undo."
Zyrion tensed. "What do you mean 'something else'?"
Elaron looked directly into his eyes. "It means that this mask is not only draining your life force. It is feeding something inside you, something that will eventually take control. If you don't find a way to break the bond, Zyrion… you could be lost forever."
The group left the cave in silence, their minds storming with worry. Quindarion walked ahead, jaw clenched as he struggled to process Elaron's words.
"So what do we do now?" Karion finally asked. "Just accept that Zyrion's doomed?"
"No," Quindarion snapped, turning to them. "I won't accept that. If Elaron can't help, we'll find someone else. There are answers out there—we just need to look."
"And what if we don't find them?" Caelithra asked, frustration sharp in her tone. "What if this is all for nothing?"
"It won't be for nothing!" Quindarion shouted, startling everyone. "Not while I can still fight for him."
Kyrahna turned to Zyrion, who remained silent behind the mask. "Zyrion… what do you want to do?"
It took him a moment to answer. His voice was quiet but steady. "I don't want to give up. But… if things get worse, I want you all to go on without me."
"Don't even think about that!" Kyrahna said, her voice trembling. "We're not leaving you behind. No matter what happens, we'll find a way."
Zyrion managed a small smile behind the mask. "Thank you, Kyrahna. But if the time comes… I want you to promise."
The group exchanged heavy glances before nodding reluctantly. The promise was made, though none intended to keep it.
As they walked away from the cave, Quindarion spoke softly. "I know another place. An ancient temple that holds forbidden knowledge. Maybe we'll find something there."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Karion said, tightening his grip on his sword. "The sooner we get there, the better."
The group marched onward again, uncertainty hanging over them like a dark cloud. Zyrion looked toward the sky, wondering how much longer he could endure.
From a distance, a figure watched them from the forest shadows. It was Voryn, the man with the golden mask. A sinister smile formed beneath it as he whispered to himself.
"The game has only just begun."
TO BE CONTINUED…