Chapter Text
Jordana slowly opened her eyes. It felt like she had just woken up from a deep sleep. Her surroundings swam into focus, and she now found herself in a dilapidated room with grimy, peeled walls. Beams of sunlight illuminated the dust motes that floated in the air.
For a moment, she hesitated before slowly testing the movement in her hands. She wiggled her fingers before clenching her fists. Then she retracted and clenched again. She looked at her thumb and noticed a recent cut, filled with dry blood.
Must have been Rox’s doing, she thought.
Her hands trembled slightly before she brought them to her face, her fingertips tracing the sharp angle of her cheekbones, the curve of her nose, and the firm line of her jaw. She then ran her fingers through her hair and caressed her scalp in a back-and-forth manner. The gentle, repetitive motion brought a wave of comfort that traveled down her spine.
Jordana felt her lungs expand before exhaling, letting out a soft sigh. It felt so good to breathe again. It was like taking her first breath after being submerged underwater for so long. A tentative, almost disbelieving smile formed on her lips before widening into a grin. She was… whole again. The relief that washed over her was like a soothing balm. She placed a hand over her heart, feeling it beat within her. Unadulterated joy blossomed within her, a realization of simply how good it was to be alive, to feel once more.
But then, a twinge of sadness hit her. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she blinked back the tears that threatened to escape as she struggled to process her emotions.
Returning to her body was a rather bittersweet experience. Everything was so clear to her now. All this time, she had taken her life for granted. She never truly appreciated her body, the simple, effortless act of breathing, the freedom to move her arms and legs, her feelings and emotions. To walk, to talk, to hold something in her hand.
She vowed to never take her life, or anything for granted, ever again.
Jordana unfolded her stiff legs, feeling them pop from disuse, before slowly standing up. She wiped her dust-caked palms against her garment before glancing around the room.
Now what? Jordana asked herself. Her gaze drifted to the door. Help was the first thing that came to mind. She needed to tell someone, anyone, that Rox’s blackened soul was inside her.
Maybe Ras can get her out of me! He must know a way!
Jordana’s nose began to itch, and she let out a sneeze. The amount of dust in this room was ridiculous and beyond overdue for a cleaning. She moved toward the door, opened it, and poked her head out.
To the left was a long, empty corridor. Upon seeing the familiar stone architecture and the Theroxian symbols on the walls, Jordana knew she was still in the Shadow Dojo. She exited the room and closed the door behind her. To her right, down the hallway, there were four adjacent rooms.
It was so quiet. There were no voices, no footsteps, no indication of anyone’s presence.
Where is everyone?
As she walked down the unfamiliar corridor, a seed of doubt sprouted in her mind. What if he won’t help me? What if he doesn’t believe me? What if… he doesn’t know how to remove Rox from me?
No, forget the what-ifs. Ras must know of some way. She knew he didn’t care for her, only her abilities. She was a useful asset to him. Perhaps she could take advantage of that and convince him somehow. She just hoped he believed her words and would remove Rox’s soul from her. Then she can finally leave all of this behind her. No more evil plans, no more dark magic, and no more summoning ancient beings.
“Ras?” Jordana hollered, her voice echoing down the hallway, breaking the oppressive silence. “Hello? Is anyone here?” She began to think that Ras and the wolf warriors were somewhere else in the dojo. Still, she couldn’t risk leaving any area unchecked.
She pushed open the door to be greeted by a thick cloud of dust in her face. Jordana felt a tickling in her nose before letting out another sneeze and bursting into a fit of coughs. Somehow, this room was dustier than the previous one.
Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she surveyed her surroundings. At the center of the room was a low, solid bed, crafted from stone, its hard surface covered with an assortment of animal furs. The walls were adorned with an array of crude weapons from ancient times. There was a flail, a longsword, a war hammer, a mace, a shield, and a morning star. Each weapon looked like they had seen countless battles. Upon seeing the deadly arsenal, a cold chill ran up Jordana’s spine.
There was an odd smell that permeated the air, a scent that made her stomach churn. It wasn’t just the musty aroma of dust, but something else. A metallic, coppery odor hung in the air, reminiscent of dried blood. The stench of death seemed to originate from the weapons. Revolted, Jordana scrunched her nose and backed away from the stifling, morbid space. She practically stumbled out of the doorway, desperate for fresh air before hurrying down the hallway, hoping that she would find Ras in one of the other rooms.
The next room was much more spacious than the previous two. In one of the corners was a small wooden bed with a scythe resting on top of the covers. Her gaze swept over the walls, decorated with dozens of wolf masks hanging evenly next to each other. Some were complete while others were broken, crude, and unfinished. Some had symbols on them, while others were blank.
She turned to a long, dark shelf that stretched towards the high ceiling, overflowing with an incredible collection of magical items and knowledge. Hundreds of potion bottles and containers, each filled with mysterious, luminescent liquids, lined the top shelf. The middle shelf held stacks of aged, rolled-up scrolls. The bottom shelf was filled with many thick books and grimoires, their leather spines all cracked, worn, and covered in dust. For a moment, Jordana couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the sheer volume of the magical collection. But then, it hit her where she was.
This must be Rox’s room.
Jordana shuddered, imagining the wolf’s rageful reaction to the intrusion in her old quarters.
She quickly made her way out and went to the next room. Instead of a bed, there was a torn tatami mat, its dried rice straw exposed. Unlike the pale stone walls she was used to seeing, these ones were a dull, weathered yellow with patches of white. Hanging on the walls were old, faded artwork depicting insect-like figures. A sturdy, wooden desk filled one corner. Its surface was worn and scarred with time. A few thick wooden shelves sagged slightly under the weight of numerous recipe books. Their spines cracked and leather worn, their pages were filled with forgotten culinary secrets. Hanging on one of the walls was an old silver naginata, its blade rusted and dull.
Jordana went to the last room. Unlike the others, this one was unfurnished and windowless. There wasn’t even a place to sleep. It was simply a dark, vacant, dust-ridden room.
Sighing in frustration, Jordana turned sharply and stormed down the hallway. She needed Ras, and she needed him now. Each step became faster than the last until she was practically running. Her heart frantically drummed against her ribs. She didn’t know how long her control over her body would last.
Then, it hit her. A sudden wave of numbness shot through her legs, the sensation akin to ice water flooding her veins. A cry escaped her as her legs buckled beneath her. She fell to the stone floor with a hard thud that knocked the air from her lungs before letting out a pained groan.
She tried to move her legs, but they wouldn’t respond to her. A chilling sensation slowly crept through her skin. The warmth of her blood was now absent, replaced by an encroaching, penetrating cold, like a blizzard beginning to envelop her in its icy embrace.
She couldn’t lose control. Not now. Not after she just fought so hard to reclaim her body. Ignoring the pain in her knees from the fall and the worsening chill, she used her hands to push herself forward and crawl over to the nearest wall.
A tight pressure began to squeeze her skull. She whimpered and instinctively gripped her head before hearing a low, threatening whisper echo in her mind, “You will regret this.”
Jordana gasped sharply, her heart now racing. She whipped her head around, her eyes darting wildly in every direction, only to find no one there. It sounded like someone had just whispered closely into her ear. There was only one person it could be. Dread began to pool in the pit of her stomach.
She knows. She knows! Jordana tried to move her legs, willing them to respond, but they remained stubbornly inert.
Rox was trying to take back the helm. The pain, the numbness in her legs, all of it was her fighting to wrench control of their shared body.
“Come on, get up!” Jordana groaned out; her voice was barely audible against the rush of blood in her ears. She internally begged her limbs to listen and regain their sense of feeling. To become hers again.
Using her hands and elbows, she dragged herself across the ground until she was right against the wall. Reaching up with trembling hands, she grasped at the wall, her fingers scrambling for purchase. With a grunt of exertion, she leveraged her weight against it and pushed herself up from the ground, her muscles screaming in protest. Thankfully, the numbness receded from her legs, and the sharp pain in her head dissipated, leaving behind a dull throb.
Jordana let out a shaky sigh. By whatever means necessary, she couldn’t let Rox hijack her body again. She just couldn’t allow it to happen. She briskly walked down a new corridor full of wolf masks and lit torches.
“Hello? Ras? Can anyone hear me?!” She shouted desperately, hoping to get a response from someone, anyone, to help her now when she needed it most.
“Foolish girl! He won’t help you,” the parasitic voice boomed within her head.
“Don’t you think I’ve already considered that?!” Jordana snapped. “Still, I have to try.”
“If you breathe a word about me to Ras, I swear that I will end your miserable life!” Rox threatened with a sharp edge.
Jordana ignored the attempt at intimidation. “If you end my life, you won’t have a body!” she shot back. Whether this was true or not, she didn’t know. At least, she hoped Rox needed her alive.
The silence seemed to confirm it.
The hallway ended, giving way to a staircase that led to the lower levels of the dojo. Her fingers closed around the cold iron handrail, gripping it for dear life, before she tentatively began her descent down the ancient stone steps.
“Please don’t make me fall,” Jordana whispered, her voice trembling with fear, holding onto a sliver of hope that for once, Rox would comply. She recoiled at the thought of herself tumbling down the stairs and her legs breaking with a loud, sickening snap.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and released a breath of relief she hadn’t realized she was holding. Then, without warning, her vision started to blur around the edges. A tremor of fear ran through her as the room began to spin and the flickering blue torches became distorted. Her body swayed, and for a moment, she thought she was about to faint. She instinctively reached out to the wall to steady herself, but her hand only waved in the air.
Her legs felt like they were now encased in lead, anchoring her fast. She couldn’t take another step forward; her energy felt like it was being sapped away. Before she could even register what was happening to her, she fell to her knees.
A sudden, piercing pain lanced through her chest, so sharp that it stole her breath, leaving her gasping for air. She clutched her chest, trying to hold the pain at bay. The suffocating, dark presence of Rox was so close now, threatening to bury her whole. The persistent, pulsating pain pounded against her head with a newfound ferocity.
“Please… stop,” Jordana choked out, hot tears now streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks. Her heart was pounding so loudly against her ears, she was surprised it hadn’t burst out of her chest. She closed her eyes tightly, wishing that someone would help her right now. If only the ninja were here to save her from this monster deep within her. She implored Rox to stop the pain, but she wouldn’t relent.
A loud, cruel cackle echoed through her mind. “Beg all you want. It won’t stop me! You are all alone! You always have and will be!” The words stung, a harsh reminder of her isolation. Rox was right. She was alone. But she refused to give in to despair. The only person who could save her was herself.
For a brief moment, the agonizing pain eased. Jordana let out a panted breath and hoisted herself up, her arm flailing as she grasped the rough stone wall for support. She dried her eyes and slowly continued forward down the dimly lit corridor.
She began to hear faint, yet unmistakable sounds of familiarity. The violent energy of Shatterspin, followed by labored grunts and shouts of exertion, reverberated down the hall.
Someone’s fighting! she thought. Finally, a sign of life. Hopefully, wherever this fight was taking place, she would find Ras there. The thought gave her a surge of adrenaline, pushing her to quicken her pace and nearly break into a run.
She let out a cry of pain as the throbbing pressure in her head returned. Rox continued to violently bang against the locked door that Jordana stubbornly refused to open. With each second, the lock was loosening, inching closer to giving way.
Then, the pain subsided. Rox relented her relentless pounds against the door that kept her out. Perhaps brute force wasn’t necessary with her unwilling host.
“Jordana, if you let me back in, I promise not to cause you any more pain,” Rox cooed, her voice now silvery and enticing like the song of a siren. “I’ll even allow you to freely roam with your body once I’m done,” she offered, her honeyed words dripping with false sincerity, the promise of freedom a tantalizing carrot dangling just out of reach.
Jordana stopped dead in her tracks. The sudden cessation of pain and the beguiling offer had a disorienting effect. A dangerous seed planted itself within her mind. She entertained the treacherous idea of taking up Rox’s offer. Perhaps if she just gave in, if she let Rox do whatever it was she needed to do, then she could finally escape this torment and end this internal battle.
“We can share your body. We no longer need to fight. Don’t you want that?”
The words were like a magnet, a powerful pull that was drawing her in and promising respite from the tolling, agonizing war within.
“I—" Jordana began, the word caught in her throat. She teetered on the edge of capitulation.
“Say it, Jordana. Just let me in, and I will make all your pain go away,” Rox coaxed softly.
All she had to say was yes. It was so easy to say one word. It was right there, at the tip of her tongue, poised to fall. But a persistent voice, a shred of instinct deep within her, screamed that this was wrong. That no matter how alluring the promise was, Rox could never be trusted. It was a trap, a gilded cage disguised as freedom. Her words were as sweet as honey, but in the end, she was as bitter as poison.
“No! No, stop it! You’re lying!” Jordana shouted, resisting the temptation with every ounce of her will. She continued down the corridor, moving at a steady pace.
To the left, there was a set of stairs leading to the training room. Below, she saw a row of wolf warriors spectating an ongoing fight. In the middle of the room was Cinder, struggling against Nokt’s relentless assault of punches and kicks.
Standing at the far corner of the room was Ras.
There he is!
Jordana shouted at the tiger for help as loud as she possibly could, but no words escaped from her. Her voice was gone, stolen from her, as if someone had stuffed a thick wad of cotton into her throat, muffling her screams into silence.
She tried running down the stairs, but her legs wouldn’t obey. Nothing responded to her. She could still see, feel, and hear everything though. In her paralysis, she felt a tremor deep within her torso, building in intensity until it wracked her entire being. Her body began to jerk and spasm uncontrollably, and before she knew it, the world around her began to blur. Then, her vision was swallowed by blackness.
A jolt, like a sudden electrical surge, ripped through Jordana. After a moment, her eyelids opened. Except it wasn’t her that opened them. A cold gaze looked out from behind the brown eyes. Panic seized her, and the horrifying realization hit her like a physical blow. She was no longer in control.
No! No! No! Not now! Not when I was so close! Jordana screamed internally.
Her hand lifted, the fingers curling into a fist. But it was no longer hers. It was Rox’s. With a smug smile and a low chuckle, she turned around and strode back to her brother’s quarters.
Jordana felt the rise and fall of her chest, her lungs expanding and deflating. It was so unnatural, so profoundly wrong, not having to breathe and to have someone else breathing for her. Her legs moved without her command, each step a betrayal, a violation of her autonomy. In an attempt to regain control, she pulled against the chains that bound her. She tried to will her limbs to stop and turn around, but her body refused to obey, dragging her further away from her destination. Every blink, footstep, and breath served as a constant, agonizing reminder of her utter powerlessness.
Her body was now nothing more than a marionette, moving at the whim of Rox, the cruel and heartless puppeteer who held all the strings. The further Rox backtracked, the more frantically Jordana struggled to break free and take back the reins of her body. But her captor was too strong, too deeply entrenched inside of her.
Jordana didn’t have enough strength now to fight back against her. At least not yet. But she would not be so easily deterred. The flame of hope still blazed within her, and she refused to let it die no matter what.
“I broke free of you once, and I will do it again!” Jordana vowed.
“You’re going to find that rather difficult,” Rox retorted.
This felt so horribly wrong to Jordana. The feeling of her mouth moving, forming and shaping words that she didn’t will, was a grotesque violation. Even worse, the warm, young, soft tone in her voice was gone, replaced by a frigid, sharp-edged tone. For a moment, she didn’t even recognize the sound of her voice. It was defiled, desecrated; a mocking imitation produced by the beast that resided within her.
“Can’t you use your own voice instead of mine?” Jordana asked with profound discomfort at hearing her own voice talking back to her.
“No.”
“Why not?” she inquired.
“Such a spell cannot work with a borrowed form, only with my real body,” Rox explained.
Jordana expected to find herself back in the library, but to her surprise, nothing happened. She could still see everything in the real world: the long halls, the stone walls, and the engraved Theroxian symbols on them. Something was wrong. If she wasn’t in her mind, then where was she?
“Wait, why am I not in the library? Where am I?” Jordana asked.
“I’ve trapped you inside my mind. I didn’t want to resort to it, but you left me no choice,” Rox answered.
All Jordana could do now was watch powerlessly as Rox ascended the stairs.
Rox examined one of her hands before touching her fingernails. She sighed, longing for her paws and sharp claws that she could use to draw blood. Instead, she was stuck with this soft, weak flesh. If she could, she would trade this frail form for her strong, vigorous body. Oh well, these hands would suffice for the punishment she had in store for her tenacious host.
Apprehension began to rise within Jordana. She couldn’t perceive where the feeling came from, but somehow, she was certain that something bad was about to happen.
“W-what are you going to do to me?” Jordana fearfully stuttered.
“You’ll see,” Rox replied cryptically, her lips twisted into a malicious smile.
A whirlwind of anxiety spiraled through Jordana as she began to imagine what Rox was going to do. Was she going to continue invading her mind? Destroy her memories until she was nothing but a blank slate?
Suddenly, she saw a vivid flash of a sword, dripping with fresh blood. The image sent a jolt of terror through her. Once again, she questioned where the thought originated from. It wasn’t coming from her, so the only other possibility was… Rox.
Jordana felt Rox's thoughts infiltrate and permeate her mind. Dark tendrils of malice seeped in. The invasive visions blotted her own thoughts like a black cloud and polluted her.
Then, she saw glimpses of a life that happened long ago, in a world so cruel and barbaric. Memories that weren’t hers but Rox’s. She stood alongside her siblings, watching from afar as their armies laid siege to burning cities. Countless screams flooded the air. She brought her scythe down upon her oppressors, beheading them without hesitation. For hours, she tirelessly crafted hundreds of wolf masks, embellishing them with sigils and imbuing them with dark energy.
Rox arrived at her brother’s room. She closed the door behind her and stretched her arms, the joints popping with a series of loud cracks.
Jordana watched as Rox slowly walked towards the wooden cabinet, opened it, and unsheathed a katana. She then went to the windowless frame, held out her arm in the sunlight, and rolled up the sleeve.
Jordana quickly caught on to where this was going.
“No! No! Don’t hurt me! Please don’t!” But her words fell on deaf ears.
Rox let out a sardonic laugh, relishing Jordana’s fear. Good. She should be scared. She led the blade to her arm, the cool steel touching her skin. “I want you to remember this. You are just a worthless, insignificant, feeble human! Your life means nothing except to serve my plan. May you enjoy this pain as much as I do.”
Jordana offered no response to the hurtful insults. Her life wasn’t a means to an end. She knew she could be so much more than a mere servant if she put her mind to it.
Perhaps she could be selfless and care for others instead of herself. One good deed to a stranger was all it took for someone to remember her name. Maybe that’s why she was always glossed over and invisible to everyone. She was selfish and never treated others equally. But she could change.
In a frantic attempt to stop Rox, Jordana tried to move the blade away, but it was no use.
Rox inhaled sharply before applying pressure onto the blade. Thin trails of blood seeped out of her arm and slowly dripped onto the floor. She let out an animalistic hiss in response to the pain, while Jordana screamed within her prison.
With her free hand, she summoned her magic. A red glow surrounded the wound and healed it in an instant. She brought the blade to her arm again and again.
Jordana’s cries of pain were drowned out by her captor’s sadistic laughter. She needed something, anything that could distract her from the slashing and stinging, even if it was just for a moment. Amidst the pain, she tried to bring an imaginary scenario to the forefront of her mind. It was a sunny day, and she and Ana were strolling down the streets of Imperium, talking and laughing together.
The thought was sliced in two by a rapid succession of new cuts.
Tears began to well up in her eyes. Not just from the pain, but from the joys of life that she wished she had experienced and missed out on in her childhood.
Jordana tried to stifle Rox’s delirious laughter, but her efforts were futile. Where one experienced pain, another viewed it as pleasure. The cuts, once light and quick, were now deep and slow. It no longer felt like a sword was cutting her skin, but a whip was lashing her. The pain was too much for her to bear.
Within the depths of Rox’s mind, Jordana began to sob. Her sorrow physically manifested in the form of tears and began to escape Rox’s eyes, painting a stark contrast on the face that was otherwise filled with cruel delight.
Rox channeled her magic, binding together the torn flesh of her arm and closing the wounds. Then, she wiped away the tears caused by her mewling host. She decided to cease the assault of lacerations. Perhaps now, the message was clear to Jordana. This wasn’t her body anymore.
Rox admired the stained sword and watched the crimson droplets slowly trickle down the blade. Using her two fingers, she gathered a small amount of blood from the blade. Raising the bloodied fingertips to her lips, she licked them clean.
“You are so sick and evil,” Jordana whispered in Rox’s mind, unable to get the salty, metallic taste out of her mouth. She wanted to spit it out, but all she could do was feel it go down her throat.
Rox let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes at the accusation. “Evil is such a strong, vulgar word.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Jordana’s voice trembled, still raw with pain and fear.
“Yes, I did. You brought this upon yourself,” Rox insisted with an air of smug certainty and a lack of remorse.
“But I never did anything to you! I didn’t do anything to deserve this!” Jordana cried out with incredulity.
“You—”
Jordana cut her off. “You can’t just torture me for no reason!”
Rox's eyes narrowed to slits, a vein throbbing visibly at her temple. How dare this insufferable whelp interrupt her. She should know her place by now. “Be quiet and let me finish!” she snarled, her composure now cracking before inhaling sharply, trying to contain her anger.
“Here I was,” she began with a dangerously calm tone, “looking into the memories of your pathetic little life to find a way to free my siblings!” Her voice cracked, the forced calm shattering, replaced with a raw, erratic edge.
As Rox’s words hung in the air, Jordana was forcefully pulled into a memory not hers. Through the perspective of Rox, Jordana could see and feel her cloaked body violently shivering alongside the rest of the Five. They all huddled together for warmth in the suffocating cold of their dark prison.
She could almost feel the lifelessness that Rox felt. How did she and her siblings endure such a terrible fate? She almost felt pity for Rox, but she quickly reminded herself of all the pain that her captor had inflicted upon her. Perhaps she wasn’t always this way. But whatever good she may have once had was dead and buried forever, with only hate and malice remaining. Evil did not deserve pity, and Jordana would not allow herself to feel it.
Rox clenched her teeth, her gaze hardening. She then brought the sword back to her arm and created new cuts, ignoring the whimpers of pain echoing in her mind, before healing them.
“Then, you come along, pestering me and interfering with my work! And somehow, through some twist of fate or dumb luck, you break free from my hold!” Rox furiously chastised.
“Wait, you searched through my mind because you thought I knew of a way to free the rest of the Forbidden Five?”
Rox released a pent-up breath before composing herself. She lifted her chin, and a delighted smirk curved her lips. “That’s right. And thanks to your memories, I may have found another way!” she disclosed, her voice ringing with a disturbing cheerfulness that Jordana hadn’t heard until now.
“What? I don’t know any other way! I don’t even—”
Jordana paused and was struck with revulsion as Rox licked more of her blood off the blade. She then smacked her lips, reveling in the metallic tang, a flagrant display of her morbid enjoyment over the flavor. If Jordana were in control of her body right now, she was more than certain that she would be dry heaving at this point.
“Earlier, when you broke free, I couldn’t finish reading your memories.”
“I already told you, I don’t know anything!”
“Oh, but you do! And right now, you are going to tell me everything you know about Cloud Kingdom,” Rox demanded placidly, knowing full well that her host would give her the answer she sought, one way or another.
“Why are you even asking me when you can just look inside my head?” Jordana asked.
“Because it’s quicker this way. And even if I wanted to, I can’t enter your mind, since you’re in mine now,” Rox answered.
“Why should I tell you anything after everything that you’ve done to me?” Jordana snapped indignantly, her voice filled with a mixture of pain and outrage.
“Because if you don’t, then I promise you that I shall do far worse than mere cuts!” Rox threatened, her voice suddenly as razor-sharp as a knife.
“W-worse?” Jordana squeaked out.
“Oh, yes. Much, much worse,” Rox affirmed in a low pitch. “So, what will it be?”
Jordana knew that if she told Rox what she wanted to know, it may lead her in the right direction to freeing the rest of the Five. She didn’t want to help her and be responsible for more evil beings entering this world. But she also didn’t want to endure any more pain. More, and worse, unspeakable pain that she couldn’t help but glimpse at in Rox’s thoughts with morbid curiosity. She immediately regretted it.
Jordana knew that if she refused to answer, it would only delay the inevitable. No matter what, Rox would get what she wanted. Might as well choose the easy way instead of the painful way.
“I… alright,” Jordana conceded in a demoralized tone. “What do you want to know?” she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Let me repeat myself again. Tell me everything you know about the Cloud Kingdom.”
“Um, hm. Let me think—augh!”
She felt a stinging pain on her forearm from a quick swipe of the blade before the wound was healed.
“I don’t have all day. Start talking,” Rox said impatiently.
Jordana’s mind went back to the day the wolf clan invaded the realm. It was full of peaceful monks who had an obsession about writing and vast archives with countless scrolls.
“Monks. Lots of monks live there,” Jordana slowly began.
“Go on,” Rox urged.
“I think they’re called the writers of destiny. Oh, and there’s an elemental master of wind that lives there.”
Rox rolled down her arm sleeve. “What else? What about their archives?” She pressed before sheathing the sword and putting it back in the cabinet.
“They have so many scrolls in there. It’s a vast repository of information, some of which can’t even be accessed or found anywhere else in the merged realms but there.”
“Is that why Ras invaded this realm? Did he know that their archives contained the knowledge on how to bring us back?”
“Yes."
“Aside from the ritual, does he know any other way to construct a portal to Netherspace?”
“I honestly don’t know. But if I were to guess, no.”
“Tell me, what purpose did those scroll worms serve in the archives?”
“Well, they help people who want to find something. Anyone who requests information, they find whatever you want and give to you. I’m not sure how they do it, though. It’s like some sort of hive mind.”
This was it. She finally had the answer she sought. A victorious grin spread across Rox’s face, and maniacal laughter erupted from her. She began to picture the glorious carnage, the rivers of blood, and the mountains of bone she and her brethren would leave in their wake throughout the merged realms.
Rox lay down and sank into the bed. With a relaxed sigh, she placed her hands on her chest and closed her eyes before drifting into a sea of reveries.
Aghast, Jordana let out a shrill scream, unable to stop the visions of barbarous cruelty from flooding her. She beheld raging infernos, stretching across the expanse of existence, consuming everything in their path. Their fiery orange tongues licked the sky. The sun was completely blotted out by the thick, suffocating smoke that billowed upwards.
On the day of reckoning, the Five would rise again and continue their dominion. Their unyielding power, fueled by their unbreakable will, sweeping across all the realms. Shattering them one by one until all of creation was as broken and defiled as they.
Cacophonies of screams filled the air, a chorus of terror as the dying writhed beneath the heels of the Five. Their terrible forms were soaked in blood from head to toe. The abhorrent smells of iron, death, and burning flesh filled the air. Entire races and whole civilizations were wiped from existence, leaving no trace of them. Every conceivable form of life, every unique and wondrous being, fell victim to the merciless campaign of the Five.
Their foes, and all who dared to stand against them, were ravaged and crushed until blood, bones, and dust remained. Until their beating hearts were stilled, and the light faded from their eyes. In the wake of their bloody victories, the Five indulged themselves and gorged on the corpses of those they hated most.
The elemental masters, blinded by arrogance, who so foolishly dared to challenge the Five, would soon see the truth of their folly. They were merely ants to be crushed by the Five. Their will, feeble, and their efforts, paltry. The dreadful power of the Five held no quarter. The swines and wretches groveled and clutched their entrails, their cries for mercy swiftly silenced as they were decollated.
Those who joined their just cause doomed themselves from the very beginning. Their allies supplicated themselves to the dark design of the elemental masters and bent their unworthy knees under their greatness. Entranced, they crooned before the Five, caressing their abhorred forms with admiration. But these weak minds will never fathom their plot. When they no longer serve any purpose to them, the Five will enlighten these greedy souls. In their boundless generosity, they shall gift the pitiful masses a beautiful death by praising them for their devotion before feasting on them and piling their corpses as tribute to the Dragon of Chaos.
In their act of retribution, the Five brought down their wrath upon the dragon masters of the east, their onslaught brutal and overwhelming. In their victory, the Five towered over the once mighty beasts with malevolent laughter and mocked them with cruel amusement before finally unleashing the centuries of hate and fury onto them. With a final act of punishment for sentencing them to a fate worse than death, the Five immolated the fallen masters and feasted their eyes as the raging conflagration consumed the dragons. Their scales blistered, their wings charred, and their flesh burned until there was nothing left but bone.
The Five looked in awe; their eyes burned with admiration, and they marveled at the magnificent, towering presence of the Chaos Dragon. In return for his freedom, the beast shall reward the Five.
The once vibrant planet was now a barren wasteland, leaving only an echo of what it had been. The siblings looked upon their splendorous works with pride and fervor, their dark hearts swelling with perverse joy.
With their vengeance and fury quenched, they basked in their glory and savored the deathly silence. In a moment of bliss, they shared a warm embrace, wrapping their arms around each other. They watched as the sun began to set before the light disappeared completely.
Regret flooded Jordana, now realizing what she had just done. This was all a mistake, one she couldn’t fix. She should never have told Rox about the archives and instead endured the pain. But it was too late now, and there was nothing she could do. Yet another thing to add to her list of poor choices in life.
But the past was the past, and she still had a chance to change the future.
“Is this what you have planned?” Jordana slowly asked, her mind still polluted with the terrible, intrusive thoughts of Rox.
“Of course,” Rox answered. “Be grateful. You should be honored that you’ve helped me reunite the Five. After all, wasn’t that your goal? To appease your master and prove your worth by keeping the portal open to free us?” Her voice dripped with a mocking sweetness.
“It was, but not anymore! And Ras is no longer my master!” Jordana shot back.
Rox tilted her head. “Then who are you, if not the right hand of Ras?”
Jordana began to repeat the question to herself. The question had never occurred to her. In all the time that she had focused on her former goals, she hadn't taken the time to even ask herself such a fundamental question. Everything she ever did, her choices, her past loyalties, pressed down on her. Who was she without Ras? Who was she? It was the question she had always avoided and was afraid of confronting. But she couldn’t run away from it anymore.
“I… I don’t know. But I will find out after I’m free from you,” she insisted, her voice rising with each word, fueled by a growing resolve.
“Well, until I return to my body, you’re not going anywhere,” Rox drawled. “For now, stay put.”
“You know I won’t,” Jordana said defiantly. She refused to simply lie down and give up. She just couldn’t. Rox and the Five were evil. They had to be stopped no matter what, and it was up to her to fight back against Rox until the very end.
The room fell silent. For a moment, Jordana feared that she had just incurred Rox’s ire. But then unexpectedly, she let out a low, melodious chuckle.
“You are, without a doubt, the most intriguing host I’ve ever encountered,” Rox said, fascinated by the girl’s fiery spirit.
“Yeah, right,” Jordana scoffed. How could Rox, a thousand-year-old sorceress with so much ancient, dark power, find her so compelling? “My entire life, I’ve only been interesting to people that I’m convenient to, like you.”
“Your body may be weak, but deep inside, you possess a hidden strength. The will to fight. I respect that.”
The praise caught Jordana off guard. Then, she remembered the earlier lies, the whispers of poisoned sweetness from her silver tongue. Before, she would be gushing with gratitude, but not now.
“Stop lying! The only thing I trust out of you is your threats,” Jordana spat bitterly. She had no reason to believe anything from Rox, especially after everything she had put her through.
“Oh, but I’m not. I admire those with strength. After all, it is the foundation of the world. It’s how we survive,” Rox said with uncharacteristic sincerity and a strange reverence.
“You have potential, Jordana. For someone so young, you’re able to perform Theroxian magic. Not just anyone can do that. One week of practice, and you’re able to cast a handful of spells, whereas it would take months, perhaps even years for others to do so! I see strength in you.”
Jordana could see what Rox was trying to do. The words were meant to flatter, but they did not touch her.
“Where are you going with this?” Jordana asked, unable to mask her impatience any longer. “You’ve already taken my body, so what more do you want?”
“The question you should be asking is, what do you want? Would you like to have a place among the Five and become my apprentice in the arts of magic?” Rox offered.
“What? No! Never!” Jordana shouted, immediately rejecting the offer. There was no way she would ever stand alongside the group of evil, merciless monsters.
“But you’ve always been a tool, used by others. Ras, the empress, the doctor that you once looked up to. Why not be the hand that guides others? I’ve seen how everyone treats you, how everyone overlooks you and underestimates you.” Rox paused, allowing her words to sink into Jordana.
“Your master is a leech,” she said with distaste. “An opportunist who takes what he wants and uses others as expendable pawns for his master’s plans until they are no longer of any use to him,” her tone now filled with disgust and hate towards the tiger.
“But I assure you, Jordana, we wouldn’t treat you as a mere servant,” Rox gently continued. “For all that you’ve accomplished, you deserve more than that. You could finally have the family that you’ve always wanted. You would be like a sister to us. A comrade whom we would never leave behind. We would accept you with open arms and see you for who you truly are.”
She’s just lying!
Yet Rox’s thoughts told her otherwise. She peered into her mind, searching for any signs or semblance of deceptive thoughts or lies within her. It seemed that Rox, for once, really was telling the truth. But what if she was hiding her motive? What if she was omitting the truth? Or perhaps she was hiding her lies through her half-truths.
She looked back to the terrifying thoughts and plans of the Five slaughtering countless innocent lives, leaving no room for posterity. All the beautiful realms, teeming with life and wonder, reduced to detritus and ruin. She would never join the warmongering elemental masters. She refused to believe that the siblings truly cared for each other and were capable of love.
“You wish for power, do you not? Would you like to be more powerful than any sorcerer who ever lived? To see your rival weep in your shadow and no longer feel so… worthless? Would you like for your name to be etched into history forever, until the end of time?” Rox proposed, her words aiming with pinpoint accuracy at the heart of her host’s insecurities and longings.
“Stop it,” Jordana whispered, a weak attempt to deny Rox’s words. But a part of her still wanted to give in to her desires. Though she tried to fight the temptation, the words pulled her in, dragging her down and filling her with dark hunger.
The selfish part of her took over, overriding all thoughts of morality. She envisaged herself looming over Ana, watching as her rival begged for mercy before belittling her for how weak she was in the face of her might. With a sword in hand, and a cruel smile on her lips, she raised her weapon, poised to deliver the final blow to her rival.
Power was finally within her grasp, all thanks to Rox, and she was willing to give it to her freely. Finally, she would be able to hear the sweet words of validation that she longed for and feel the warm embrace of those who cared for her.
“Poor Jordana. We, the Five, know that feeling. That pain. How it eats you up inside every single day, making your heart ache and fill you with hatred. How you’ve cried yourself to sleep, with no one there to comfort you or hold you in their arms. We know what it’s like when the world abandons you. Your heart stirs with that longing for more, that desire for affection. To no longer be weak and gain true power. You’ve always been so alone. So unloved,” Rox gently whispered with a hint of sadness in her voice.
Jordana remained silent, unable to deny the truth. Was it so wrong to want such things? To feel valued, recognized, and loved by others?
“But no more. You’re just like us, someone who would do anything in the world to achieve power! I truly do commend your efforts. To be honest, I’ve always wanted to pass down everything that I know to a student, and I could not think of anyone better than you. Join us.”
Power, validation, recognition, everything that her heart desired was within her grasp. She was on the verge of shaking Rox’s metaphorical hand to make her dreams a reality. Through Rox’s teachings, Jordana would ascend to heights of unimaginable power that she could only dream of and learn a treasure trove of ancient power and knowledge that many would kill for. She would stand as an equal alongside the most powerful beings in all the realms. It was so tempting to taste the forbidden fruit that was offered before her. All she had to do was just say…
No!
Jordana snapped back to reality, jolting herself out of the dark thoughts that Rox had planted in her. She refused to accept the offer from this witch. No amount of power was worth it, not if it meant that her soul would be contaminated and corrupted. She would not lose herself.
Rox was just a lying, dishonorable, malicious person. No, she didn’t even deserve to be called a person. She was a soulless animal who wanted to destroy and conquer everything with her siblings. Jordana didn’t want the world to end, and she certainly didn’t want to contribute to it any more than she already has.
“You’ve taken my body from me, you’ve hurt me, and now, you’re offering for me to join you. Did you really think I was going to say yes?! I don’t care what you offer me. In the end, I would be just like you. A monster! The answer is still no,” Jordana renounced. The rejection was final.
She then saw the truth. Memories in times long past of Rox, leading those who fell into her influence deep into the forests. Humans and various creatures throughout the Wyldness were preyed upon and taken advantage of by her. The trickster would whisper soothingly into the ears of her victims, her words so compelling and powerful that they attracted them towards her like moths to a flame. Unable to resist the bewitching voice and the tantalizing, irresistible promises, they sold their souls to the Five and drank from the poisoned chalice. It always worked like a charm.
Sometimes, she asked with feigned sincerity what they craved the most in life. Other times, she conjured elaborate falsehoods and illusions that presented their desires to them on a silver platter. It was so easy for her to exploit others’ vulnerabilities and play on their desires.
A rustling sound in the undergrowth, a misplaced object of precious value, a missing child, a whisper in the wind, calling out their names —that was all it took. Especially to those who were isolated, lost in the Wyldness, or were simply weak-minded and gullible enough.
Even rulers of entire tribes fell to her manipulation. She snuffed out those susceptible to her. With such sweet words that promised power and reward, they knelt at her feet. Whether it was through meticulous shapeshifting, deception, or more crude and intimate methods, she always set free the treachery that resided within others. Even in purity, there always lurked corruption.
With each ensnarement she carried out, the siblings gained many followers to their cause. Soon enough, they had formed their cult and gained many powerful allies. But Jordana refused to end up like all those poor, unfortunate victims.
“When I’m gone from this meatsuit of yours, what will you do with your talent?” Rox asked.
“I don’t know,” Jordana admitted. “I’ll probably learn more magic. Maybe even use it for others.” A subtle smile unconsciously formed on her lips before being wiped away.
Rox shook her head and scoffed. “Such a waste of your talent,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Tell me, what will you do with your freedom?”
“I’m going to leave Ras. There’s nothing left for me in Imperium, so I’m not going back there. Beyond that, I really don’t know.”
“I should have expected as much. You’re just going to run away and hide like the coward that you are,” Rox sneered.
“I am no coward! And I’m not going to wait for my freedom! I’ve seen your plans! The ninja will find out about it, and when they do, they’ll stop you!” Jordana assured.
A guttural snarl ripped from Rox's throat. “You delude yourself. They will never find out, and you won’t be gaining your freedom anytime soon. Fighting me is a fool’s errand!” she exclaimed with an agitated edge.
“Maybe. Maybe I’m a fool.” Jordana said self-deprecatingly. “But you can’t make me stop, and you know it.”
“Unless you wish to be punished again, I suggest you think twice about continuing this pointless struggle,” Rox warned.
“I don’t care! Torture me all you want, but I’m still going to try again and again!” Jordana burst out, refusing to yield.
Rox was left speechless, which was quite a rare occurrence for her. With a cold chill running down her spine, she now realized that she could not break her host. Each cruel act she inflicted upon Jordana only seemed to further fuel her resolve. Where did this tenacity come from? Something seemed to shift within Jordana ever since she first escaped her cold grip and reclaimed her body. There was this warmness in her, this brazen defiance. Not the enraged aggression or desperation from earlier, but a calm, subtle, persistent opposition that Jordana directed towards her.
Rox remembered all that anger and fear Jordana felt from earlier. It was such a delicious feast of emotions that she consumed, and she now wanted more of it. But most of all, she wanted to feel that hopelessness from Jordana. To know that she would never again fight for her body. Yet, nothing seemed to work. She was like a brick wall that could not be broken down, and it infuriated Rox.
Further adding to her aggravation, she felt Jordana try to squeeze her way out of her hold. The sudden burst of resistance caused her body to jolt forward and nearly tumble out of bed.
“No! I am in control! Stop it, you wretched chit!” Rox yelled, her fingers now digging into her vessel’s scalp, pulling at the red hair so hard that the strands were starting to become loose.
“Ow! Hey! Let go of my hair!” Jordana cried out.
“It’s not yours anymore! Why won’t you just… give up?” Rox’s voice wavered, betraying the strain of their internal battle.
“Because this is my body!” Jordana retorted. “You have no right to do this to me!”
Rox needed to feed on that invigorating fear to bolster her hold over this meatsuit. But she was not receiving any. The well had run dry.
“Stop! Stop fighting me this instant! Or else I will cut you into pieces over and over!” Rox shrieked, the empty threat tumbling out of her.
“No! I’ll never stop until you leave!” Jordana shouted back, her voice cracking with determination.
Thick silence fell between them.
Never in Rox’s life would she have believed that a host would stand up to her and defy her with such resilience and persistence. She initially thought Jordana would be so easy to break, to crack under pressure until there was nothing left. Until all the fight was gone from her. But this whole time, she had underestimated her. She needed to stop her incessant resistance.
“You… you tiny little thing! No one is waiting for you out there,” Rox affirmed callously. “You have no one. No family to love you. No one even knows who you are. You have nothing. Nothing left,” she furiously spat out, each word a meticulously crafted poison to finally extinguish the flame of hope within her host.
“Nothing, except my life,” Jordana contended steadily, her voice rising with each word. “And I’m going to fight for it. I will stop you! I have to try!”
It was then that Rox saw no point in trying to undermine Jordana anymore. She could break her body, but not her spirit.
Regardless, it didn’t matter. Her host was ultimately still weak and inferior, and she would remain completely powerless, unable to interfere with the veiled scheme.
Rox then heard a rattling, squeaking noise coming from behind, and she swerved around. Her eyes narrowed, seeing the doorknob shaking violently. The turning and clicking escalated, then abruptly ceased, followed by three loud knocks.
“I don’t want to hear another word from you. Is that understood?” Rox sternly demanded in a hushed voice.
Before Jordana could even respond, Rox was already in motion, heading towards the door.
The evil thoughts and plans that she saw could not come to fruition. She silently vowed to herself to do everything within her power to stop Rox and prevent the release of the Five. In her darkest hour, Jordana finally saw the light. She was serving the wrong side this whole time. Even if she couldn’t free herself, perhaps she could help in some way. She just had to wait for the right moment and strike once Rox’s guard was down.
Evil had to be fought, and she would do so with every fiber of her being. All she could do now was put faith in the ninja and continue resisting Rox’s control until the bitter end.