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Chapter Text

The hallways of the Shadow Dojo echoed with heavy footsteps against the stone floor. Nokt stormed to his quarters with his fists clenched tightly at his sides and his teeth bared in a snarl. He pushed past any wolf warriors who happened to be in his way. Their masks hid their confused expressions, some even stepped aside hastily to make room for him.

He could feel the eyes of his underlings on him and hear their whispers trailing off behind him.

With a final shove against a warrior who dared to block his path, Nokt reached the heavy wooden door of his quarters. He swung it open with a force that made it slam against the wall, the echo reverberating through the hall like a thunderclap.

He entered and shut the door behind him. In that instant, a large cloud of dust swirled up into the air, and he let out a series of sharp coughs.

His room was completely decrepit and beyond repair due to centuries of neglect. At the corner was his old, wooden bed. The frame was warped and cracked, a testament to countless seasons of moisture and dryness. Beside it stood a small wooden cabinet, discolored and darkened with age.

Aside from the bed and cabinet, the room lacked any furnishings. Every surface area of the room was blanketed in a thick layer of dust. The walls were grimy and cracked, and the wooden floor creaked beneath his feet with every step he took. The window was caked in dust, dirt, and cobwebs, which blocked the sunlight from entering the room, giving the room a dim glow.

Seething with rage, he glared at the ruined wall in front of him as if it were the source of his fury.

The ritual of the blood moon ended in failure, and his siblings were still trapped in Netherspace. He wanted to vent his indignation at Ras so badly. What a coward! The wretched tiger chose to flee instead of freeing the rest of his brethren.

Nokt wanted to tear Ras apart, limb from limb, and crush his skull with the power of Shatterspin before feeding his corpse to the wolves. But he could do no such thing. Not with this control device lodged in the back of his head.

Unable to contain his anger any longer, he began to punch the wall as hard as he could. Despite the wall lasting for thousands of years and its decaying appearance, it was still surprisingly solid and durable. He struck the wall again and again. The echoes of his punches reverberated through the stillness of his room and the hallway outside, striking fear into the wolf guards that stood idly outside. The pain he felt in his hands was nothing compared to the turmoil within him. He let out a shout of rage and kept hitting the wall until his knuckles began to ache.

Finally, he stopped. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and stood alone in silence, watching as the dust continued to float in the air.

Everything happened so fast today. One moment, he and his siblings gathered, fantasizing about their conquest over the realms and eagerly awaiting their freedom. The next, he saw the portal close, sealing their fate.

Nokt realized just how quiet it was now. Too quiet. He felt the empty silence of the room envelop him. The state of being alone was foreign to him. He hadn’t truly experienced it until now. It felt unnerving and discomforting to him. After thousands of years being imprisoned, he thought nothing could feel worse. But today, he was proven wrong.

Even before the Forbidden Five formed, he had his sister, Rox. The two were inseparable, especially with his overprotective nature over her. But now, he felt as though a part of himself was missing.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t enjoy his freedom. Not without his siblings. They never discovered any other means to access the void, except through the ritual, which meant…

It then dawned upon him that with no other way to create a portal there, they were now trapped there, forever. For a moment, it seemed like time froze. The air was stolen from his lungs, and his chest tightened with sharp, aching pain. A thick lump began to form in his throat, and his blue eyes brimmed with tears.

The rush of anger from earlier quickly faded away, and a crushing wave of despair crept forth. Nokt sank to the floor, leaned against the wall, and pulled his knees to his chest. He would never see his family again, never hear their voices, or feel their presence again. Their plan to conquer every realm of creation was ruined forever. All because of him.

A heavy weight began to form in his chest. Guilt. Overwhelming guilt began to flood him. It was his fault that his siblings were still trapped. Looking back, he scolded himself for not being fast enough to cast the ninja as sacrifices into the portal.

I failed them. If only I had acted quicker.

He couldn’t help but feel responsible for whatever happened to them. With each passing moment, the guilt deepened, and he began to wonder if his siblings would blame him for their fate.

He glanced at the cracked and peeling walls in his room. There was no art depicting the Five, no tapestries capturing them standing together and basking in their victories and triumphs. Not even a portrait of his sister. Nothing to keep their memories alive.

The starkness of the room haunted him, a constant reminder that he was completely alone. He stared at the blank walls, and unconsciously, a wistful smile slowly grew on his lips as he began to look back on the memories that he shared with his siblings long ago.

He remembered the day when Rox, who was just a child at the time, had successfully performed her first spell ever. The two siblings had ventured out into the forest alone. He could still see the way her eyes gleamed with excitement and the wide grin that she wore as she moved a rock with a telekinesis spell. At that moment, something sparked within her. A fire that would burn for as long as she lived. From that day forward, she grew a deep passion for magic of all forms and dedicated her life to the subject.  

Whenever she struggled to perform certain spells or lacked the knowledge to complete a potion, Nokt suggested that she train under a mentor or find someone with magical experience to help guide her. But Rox, stubborn as a mule, always kept a tight hold onto her pride.

She would rather teach herself magic with all the freedom in the world than be kept on a leash by a master and held back by all their insufferable rules and regulations. She refused to be constrained like so many students. No one would shackle her boundless potential. 

Rox knew oh so well how the mages and sorcerers of the Wyldness, with their outdated dogmas and self-righteous pronouncements, vehemently forbade the practice of dark magic. They labeled it corrupting, dangerous, and inherently evil. Those who practiced it would be seen as heretics and sentenced to unspeakable punishments, namely death.

But Rox disregarded all the warnings, risks, and consequences. Upon first performing dark magic, she felt anything but corrupted. If anything, it felt good.

She couldn’t comprehend their rigid adherence to what they considered ‘good magic’ and ‘evil magic’ or ‘forbidden magic’. She believed that the practice of dark magic was not inherently evil, but rather a misunderstood power to be mastered and used for one’s own purposes. All magic should be used, no matter what.

To her, their traditions and beliefs were wrong, cruel, and dishonorable. It revolted her that so many people were devoted to the wrong ideologies of magic and never thought for themselves. Everywhere she looked, students blindly followed their masters in their unethical customs and practices of magic. All of them were sheep, enclosed in a pen by their herders.

But not her.

Rox refused to be a sheep. After all, she was a wolf.

She always insisted that Nokt stay with her during her practice sessions; his comforting presence always bolstered her confidence. He often watched for hours as she practiced and eventually mastered pronouncing the intricate incantations, gathered the ingredients necessary for magical potions, and memorized the complex hand gestures needed to perform her spells.

After the formation of the Forbidden Five, she persisted in trying to engage her siblings in the study of magic, initiating conversations and encouraging them at every opportunity. Though they weren’t as enthusiastic about the subject, at least they still practiced Theroxian magic occasionally.

Nokt remembered the nights when Rox lit up a forge and worked tirelessly for hours to craft armor, weapons, and intricately carved masks for their wolf warriors. Her craftsmanship was impeccable, the swords gleaming like polished silver under the moonlit sky, the armor sturdy and beautifully ornated, and the masks inscribed with sigils. But there was one night that always stood out to him. It was when she made her facial mask, decorated with a row of golden, razor-sharp teeth, a means to further strike intimidation into the hearts of her enemies.

He always admired Rox for her unwavering confidence and her cold and calculating nature. While he possessed the intimidation and ferocity of a wolf, Rox had the cleverness and cunning of a fox.

By merely using her words, she was able to coerce some of the tribes and enemies who opposed the Five to submit to their rule. Of course, once their allies were no longer of any use, the siblings betrayed them. Even with her elemental power and mastery in magic, Nokt could never shake the ingrained feeling of always needing to protect his little sister.   

His mind drifted back to the many nights when the Five rested from their relentless campaigns in the Wyldness. After weeks of constantly waging war and conquering lands, they gathered around a fire and celebrated their victories. The smell of roasted meats and the aroma of ale filled the air, a comforting contrast to the stench of blood on the battlefield.

Nokt and Rox always shared a warm embrace together and huddled near the fire. Drix made jokes and brought laughter to the Five. He often raved about the desserts that he planned to serve in celebration of their hard-earned victories, much to the others’ delight. Kur would either stare at the fire in peaceful silence or lie on the ground and sleep soundly in the shadows.

Zarkt, however, would ruin the quiet, peaceful evenings that they shared by boasting and blathering to the Five about his brutality towards his enemies on the glorious battlefield. He was a loose cannon, impossible to control. As the most violent and bloodthirsty member of the Five, he reveled in all forms of violence, suffering, and death.

It seemed like war and violence was all he talked and thought about. Even when they rested or celebrated their victories after days of nonstop battle, he would rant about how he cut down his foes like wheat or admire his siblings’ prowess in battle. No matter how many enemies Zarkt slayed, nothing seemed to satisfy his endless bloodlust.

He was reckless and impulsive, always charging headfirst into battle with his flail and letting out a battle cry that shook his enemies to their core. Even against overwhelming forces, Zarkt always stood his ground and faced his enemies head-on.

Due to his short temper, Zarkt was easily offended by his siblings over such frivolous matters, like whenever they disagreed with him, teased him, or chose something else for dinner that he didn’t want. Whenever this happened, he would start heated arguments that lasted for hours, or even full-blown fights with them.  

Nokt recalled that whenever the Five rested from their violent campaigns and Zarkt felt the need to vent out his anger or sate his bloodlust, he would go out into the woods and destroy the trees. If that wasn’t satisfying enough, he would hunt wild animals in the forests, whether they be prey or predator, or go to the local villages and terrorize the inhabitants.

If there was one thing Zarkt enjoyed nearly as much as his acts of savagery, it was his intemperance with ale. The others tried to moderate his intake, but to no avail. Whenever he drank, the other siblings always expected him to start a fight, which he did. Thankfully, Rox always cast a sleeping spell on him before he went on a rampage.

The others often teased Zarkt, reminding him not to drink any ale before beginning their daily routine of conquering and domination, lest he become another casualty on the battlefield. Much to their amusement and his annoyance, they often joked that if anyone were to fall first in battle, it would be him.

Nokt let out a small laugh, remembering a time when Zarkt was intoxicated, and he tried to recite an old song to commemorate their victory over the southern tribes, only to let out slurs of nonsensical rambling. Shortly afterwards, he collapsed to the ground, and his siblings laughed uproariously until their stomachs hurt.

Oh, how he missed laughing with his siblings.

He remembered how Drix eagerly shared the story of his people and what they were like. Drix grew up in a hive full of anthropomorphic insect-like people. From pupa to elder, they always radiated positivity and felt a deep love and care for one another. They were fiercely protective of their own kind. Community was everything. No one was a stranger, and everyone was either acquainted or friends with each other.

Family was a core value in Drix’s tribe. Everyone either stood together or fell together. No one ever abandoned or betrayed their own. The hive passed down this ideology for generations, something that Drix held close to his heart and never forgot for the rest of his life, even after parting ways from his people.

His initiation into becoming a member of the Five was swift. He found himself among a group of kindred spirits who shared his pain, his anger, and related to his hardships. In an odd twist of fate, all their dark pasts were what brought them together to form their siblinghood.

Nokt reminisced on how Drix always used to cook desserts that usually involved honey, something that he picked up from his tribe. His unrivaled skills in creating such sweet and savory desserts never ceased to amaze the rest of the Five.

Nokt could swear he still remembered the taste of honey bread. The delicate sweetness, the floral flavor, the moist, soft texture, and its crispy exterior. He would do anything to hear the laughter and voices of his siblings again.

Then, there was Kur. Like the blank walls that surrounded Nokt, he couldn’t find many fond memories of her. Only the ones that reminded him and the others of just how different she was from them.

Kur always stood out as the odd one of the Five. She was a ghostly presence. Always quiet, secluded, and detached. Even with their excellent sense of hearing, Nokt and Rox could barely hear Kur’s footsteps whenever she passed by.

Rarely did Kur ever talk. Most days, she remained completely silent or said very few words. In their conquest over their home realm, Kur spoke through her actions and let her siblings do the talking. She would hear Nokt’s commands, Rox’s haughty taunts, Zarkt’s baleful bellows, and Drix’s loud buzzing. All of them had their own unique way of asserting their authority and striking fear into the hearts of the denizens of the Wyldness.

Usually when the Five gathered, she would sit in silence, listening to their conversation, or stare at an object or a light to fixate herself while lost in her own thoughts.

Unlike her siblings, who were fueled with passion, ambition, bloodlust, desire, and many other things, Kur lacked any of these traits. Or at least, she didn’t express them very well. But no matter how different Kur was from the rest of the Five, she was still a part of their family, and they treated her with equal care and respect.

The memories of the Five faded away, with only the blank walls remaining. A constant reminder of his failure to free them.

Nokt was filled with dread and uncertainty about the future. They were all supposed to be freed. He didn’t picture it happening this way. Not like this. It was either all of them escaping or none of them. He couldn’t continue with their grand plan alone.

He now found himself wishing that his mentor was still here. In their time of need, the Five’s teacher was a voice of authority and reason, guiding them with wisdom, providing caution, and steering them to resolutions. If only he were here to help him now.

Nokt faced many challenges in his life. He had to raise his younger sister all on his own, thanks to the cruel indifference of their tribe. He had to protect Rox from the torment of bullies when they were children. He had to fight dragons, wild beasts, ruthless barbarians, hostile foreign races, and everything else that the world threw at him and Rox. He endured pain, bled, and broke bones just so his sister would be alive and okay.

They learned the harsh truth that to survive in this cruel world, they had to rely on strength. Only the strongest survived, and the weak died.

They were prepared to do anything, absolutely anything, to achieve real power. Though they were committed to this path, it came at a great price. They willingly shattered their souls and sacrificed their ethics, their morality. They had to break free of everything that held them back.

Nokt had to endure thousands of years of imprisonment with his siblings, a fate far worse than death. After weeks without food and water, the siblings realized that the Netherspace would keep them alive for however long they were trapped. They never aged and never grew hungry or thirsty. This wasn’t living. This was existing, and they hated the feeling. It was like being stuck in a dream that they couldn’t wake up from.

They missed what it felt like to live. Months passed, and they had already become used to the lack of food and water. Years became centuries. Their perception of time was gone. With every second that passed, their vindictiveness and malice grew. They vowed to rain their vengeance upon the ones who imprisoned them if it was the last thing that they ever did.

But now, Nokt was up against a plight he could not see himself overcome. He didn’t know what to do without his siblings.

Before, the flame of ambition burnt brightly within him, a fierce and unwavering devotion towards the Five’s goal, but now it was extinguished, leaving only hollowness. Nothing else in the world mattered to him now except his siblings. Not their plan, or their revenge against the ones who imprisoned them. With them trapped in Netherspace, he saw no point in continuing anymore. It was over.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” Nokt whispered.
 

He buried his face between his knees and let out a muffled sob as tears of regret and self-blame flowed down his face. Then, he tilted his head back, and a howl of sorrow ripped from his throat.

After ages of waiting, today should have been the day when the Five finally tasted the sweetness of their freedom that they always dreamt of and longed for in the countless, dark years of their prison.

They should be reveling in the simple comforts of life that they took for granted in their age of glory. To enjoy the cool, refreshing water and the taste of food. To bask in the sun’s warmth, chasing away the lingering cold that they constantly felt. The caress of a gentle breeze and the earth beneath their feet. To breathe the fresh air filling their lungs. To feel alive after an eternity of waiting and know what it’s like to live again.

But today was not that day, nor would it ever come. His freedom meant nothing without them. All he wanted now, more than anything, was to see them.

A blanket of depression weighed down on him. His shoulders slumped forward. Time seemed to lose its meaning as he stared into nothingness, with his thoughts solely consumed on his siblings.

Chapter Text

Nokt’s drooped ears suddenly perked up. The deafening silence was broken by the sound of muffled footsteps echoing down the hallway. Initially, he heeded no mind to it and assumed that it was just a few wolf warriors wandering around before returning to his gloomy thoughts.

But as the footsteps gradually grew closer and steadily louder, for some inexplicable reason, a sense of familiarity washed over Nokt. He just couldn’t place his finger on why. With his curiosity now piqued, he leaned forward slightly, his ears swiveling to catch every minute detail of the approaching sound.

The individual sauntered through the hallway without a care in the world. Their movement was filled with a tranquil grace that captivated the watchful eyes of the wolf warriors outside. Each step was soft and deliberate. Beneath the surface of the serene stroll lay a concealed and prideful strut, one that declared their presence and asserted their authority.

A chorus of hushed voices suddenly filled the air in the hallway. The unfortunate wolf warriors that were in Nokt's way from earlier whispered in an ancient wolf language that he had once taught them.

“Don’t go in there,” one voice murmured anxiously.

Another cautious voice chimed in, “You shouldn’t disturb him.”

The footfalls came to an abrupt halt. A sharp click of the tongue sliced through the concerned murmurs of the wolves and commanded their silence. The figure then continued down the hall, leaving the pack of warriors in a quiet daze.

These were not the heavy, authoritative stomps of Ras. The weight behind the tiger’s stride commanded attention and accompanied dominance and intimidation to everyone around him. Well, everyone except Nokt.

He began to wonder why the gait sounded so familiar. Each step stirred memories long tucked away in the recesses of his mind. Was it someone that he wanted to hear? Was it one of his allies from his past, paying him a visit?

The steps reached the outside of his quarters.

Then, the realization struck him like a lightning bolt. The footsteps had to belong to one of his siblings. Could it be that one of them somehow managed to escape through the portal, unbeknownst to him?

Nokt looked up as the door slowly creaked open. In the dim light of the room, a figure emerged, stepping into view. It was the young red-haired girl who failed to keep the gateway open. She stood up straight, with a hand resting on her hip.

Nokt sighed inwardly, disappointed and frustrated at himself for indulging in the thought that one of his siblings had miraculously returned.

No, of course it had to be one of Ras’s servants. What was her name again? Jordyn? Joanna? No, it was Jordana. The last time he saw the redheaded girl, she was perched on the stone steps beside the gong of shattering, her body swaying and trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. It was as if she were suffering from shock or teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown.

Though he held no regard for who the girl was or her well-being, Nokt found this sudden transformation quite strange. As their eyes met, a smile formed on her lips. This pathetic sorceress failed to keep the gate open. Why, in the face of her apparent failure, was she suddenly so calm and poised? Nokt couldn’t wrap his head around her demeanor. However, he couldn’t ignore that there was something strangely familiar in her eyes.

Jordana entered the room and closed the door behind her. How dare this girl enter his quarters uninvited.

“Hello, Nokt. It’s good to see you again,” she greeted in a rather pleased, jovial tone.

Nokt shot her a glare. “You are not welcome here. Leave me at once,” he ordered with a perceptible growl in his voice.

But Jordana simply shook her head at him. “Sorry, no can do. I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” she said.

Nokt scoffed at her. “So, you must be one of Ras’s lapdogs,” he spat, the insult sharp and disdainful. This girl was nothing but an extension of his current predicament.

Miffed, her lips twitched for a moment before the smile quickly returned, and she let out a low chuckle. “If you say so.”

“Just tell me why you’re here! What is it that you want?!” Nokt shouted impatiently, knowing that she was here for an ulterior reason.

“I want to talk with you,” she slowly answered. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Do I look like I’m in the mood to talk?” Nokt grumbled, not even looking at her. He waved his hand dismissively as if she were a bothersome fly.

“Please, indulge me,” she said with a polite smile. Beneath the seeming request, it was clear to Nokt that she was demanding to stay.

His shoulders slumped forward, and he let out an exasperated sigh. Right now, he didn’t have the energy to argue with her or drag her out of his room. He stared at the dusty material of the floor. Ras must have sent her here for a reason. Perhaps it would slip out of her. He just hoped he didn’t regret this girl’s presence.

Jordana interpreted his lack of protest as consent. She surveyed his dusty, ruined room with a look of disgust.

Then, she made her way to Nokt’s bed and plopped onto it as if it were her own. As she lay down, the wooden frame groaned in protest, followed by a loud creak. For the bed being countless years old, she was surprised that it was still intact after all this time. Well, barely intact.

Nokt shook his head slowly in distaste. The utter disrespect that this girl had. This wasn’t her room. This wasn’t even her house. Not even one minute in, and she was overstepping her boundaries. She lounged on his bed as if she had every right to make herself feel at home.

Then, a mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “You know what we should do?”

“What?” Nokt sighed, clearly uninterested in whatever Jordana was brewing.

“We should really punish the wolf clan for leaving this place like this,” she answered with an underlying predatory glee in her voice.

“They deserve a permanent reminder, like… hm.” Her brows furrowed in contemplation as she tapped a finger against her chin.

This wasn’t about cleanliness but a desire for power over others. Still, Nokt couldn’t care any less. Like this girl could hold any real power anyway.

Then, as if she was struck with a bolt of inspiration, Jordana snapped her fingers, her eyes now alight with a wicked intent.

“We could brand them or give them a good lashing,” she casually suggested as if she were talking about the weather.

“That’ll be fun, don’t you think?” she asked with a childlike eagerness. She gazed at the wall in a dreamlike state, and a callous smile slowly spread across her lips, envisioning the torture that she had in plan for her underlings.

Nokt turned to her, his face showing a hint of surprise at the girl for revealing this unexpectedly sadistic, darker side of her. She wasn’t hardened and battle scarred like Ras and his other recruit. She was like a sheep among wolves. Or at least, that was his assumption upon seeing her for the first time.

He never would have thought that this young, innocent-looking girl had a twisted, facetious sense of humor, nor that she would fantasize over torturing her allies just for their poor maintenance of the structure.

However, there was another aspect of the girl that seemed amiss. He had unconsciously expected her voice to match her youthful appearance, where it would sound warm, soft, and vibrant. But it was anything but that. Instead, her voice was surprisingly low and mature, accompanied by an unsettling coldness.

Nokt couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about her.

“I fail to see any reason in doing this. The state of the dojo is no longer important. Not anymore,” he said tonelessly.

“Well, to me it is!” Jordana replied with surprising intensity. “Our house is an absolute mess! I don’t even recognize some of these rooms. It’s about time someone takes responsibility and cleans up this pigsty.”

Wait…

‘Our house’? For a moment, Nokt had to process what he had just heard from the red-haired girl. He stared at her with a bewildered expression. Who did she think she was? Her words now struck a chord within him.

“This is the house of the Forbidden Five! Not yours!” he growled through gritted teeth.

Something was clearly wrong with her if she thought that this was her house. This was a stranger, not a relative.

Just as Jordana was about to respond, Nokt cut in. “If you’re here because you expect me to thank you or praise you for freeing me, then you are sorely mistaken!”

“Is that why you’ve come here? Are you looking for someone to take pity on you for your failure?” he asked, his words sharp and direct. “Because I assure you, no pity shall come from me.”

To his surprise, Jordana let out a lighthearted laugh. She scoffed in response, not even fazed by his words, and flashed a smirk at him.

“Oh, no. That is not why I’m here. But, if anyone needs pity here, it’s you,” she countered in a knowing voice with a look of amusement. Her words weren’t filled with cruelty or belittlement; it was more like a playful jab. Yet, she could see he was now vexed.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded with incredulity in his voice, oblivious to the meaning behind her words.

Jordana’s gaze swept over him, her eyes sharp and observant as she scrutinized him. “I see that you’ve shed tears today. I can tell just by looking at your eyes. They’re a bit red and dry.” Her voice was clinical yet tinged with gentle concern.

He let out a short laugh, begrudgingly impressed by her perception of detail and keen observation. For a moment, a small smile played on his lips. “It seems that nothing gets past you.”

“Never has, never will! Though, I wish I could say the same to you,” Jordana replied, her vibrant enthusiasm fading into a tone of disappointment.

His eyes narrowed and his features hardened. “Ah, so, you’re here to belittle me, is that it?” he accused. 

“Not even close! Quite the opposite. Plus, I would never talk down to you,” Jordana chirped.

“So, you’re here to comfort me? Well, congratulations, you’re doing such an amazing job at it,” he said sarcastically.

“Why, thank you, Nokt. Do I get a cookie?” she asked mockingly.

“Shut up, girl. With your annoying voice, I doubt you could comfort me even if you tried.”

“Care to wager?” she playfully dared.

“I have no time for your games,” he snapped decisively, shutting down her offer.

“You should really cool that temper of yours. Why don’t you just take a moment to relax? I know I am,” Jordana softly suggested. She adjusted herself on the bed, her limbs stretching comfortably as she let out a content sigh, a clear demonstration of the calm she was advocating. She rolled her eyes, seeing her still tense and stubborn companion remain sitting against the wall and looking downcast at the ground with a distant gaze.

Jordana zipped her lips to avoid further irking him. Not that it was her intention. She lay down on the bed and let out a sigh before staring up at the ceiling and letting her thoughts drift.

Then, she cast a lingering glance over her shoulder at the rustic wooden cabinet that stood next to the bed. With piqued curiosity, she reached over, the creaking of the hinges breaking the silence of the room as she opened the door. There, rested a katana, covered in a black sheath. She slowly wrapped her fingers around the hilt, unsheathed the katana, and moved it around with her hand, feeling its familiar weight in her grip. 

“That is not yours. Put that back this instant,” Nokt commanded firmly as he crossed his arms, attempting to project an air of authority. Yet, the red-haired girl completely disregarded his words and gave him a dismissive glance before moving to the center of the room with the katana still in her hand.

Jordana admired the craftsmanship of the sword with a smile. The blade was long and slender, with intricate carvings and symbols. Despite the dents, the uneven chipped edges, and the overall matte appearance of the katana, she couldn’t ignore the elegance of its design.

She slowly ran a finger along the length of the blade, gently caressing the cool steel. Then, without warning, she held out her thumb and with a quick motion, brought the tip of the blade to it. The sharp edge bit into her skin, drawing forth beads of crimson. She winced in pain as she felt the sting. Her expression of discomfort quickly faded away and a twisted smile spread across her lips. Her eyes glinted with fascination as she watched the drops of blood slowly trickle down the blade.

Nokt watched in confusion as Jordana began to lick the blood off her thumb. A sound of satisfaction escaped her lips, reminiscent of someone savoring a delicious meal. Her eyes were now half-closed. With each lick, she relished the metallic taste.

“Not bad,” she remarked nonchalantly, before licking her lips, now coated with dry blood. 

“Is there some reason why you just did that?” Nokt asked.

Jordana looked down at the cut on her thumb, almost as if she was admiring her self-inflicted wound. “I’ve missed the feeling of pain,” she answered.

“Good for you,” Nokt grumbled under his breath. His expression darkened, and he faced away from her, now glaring at the ground. The thought of his siblings returned to the forefront of his mind. 

Jordana’s brows furrowed; concern etched across her features as her gaze landed on the control device affixed to the back of Nokt’s head. With a heavy sigh, she went back to the cabinet and placed the katana back into its sheath before settling on the edge of the bed.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but who placed that device on you?” Jordana asked gently, breaking the silence.

“Ras, after his master brought all of us here… wherever we are now,” Nokt replied bitterly as he thought of the cruel twist of fate that had led him to this point.

“Remind me who Ra—” Jordana paused, her brows furrowing further in deep thought. “Oh, I see now. The tiger,” she mused to herself.

“How do you plan to remove it?” she asked.

“I’ve tried enough times, but it’s no use,” Nokt replied, exhaustion seeping into his tone. He felt mentally drained, his thoughts still consumed by the heavy burden of losing his siblings.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to get that blasted contraption off you,” she assured.

“Shouldn’t you be studying some Theroxian scrolls? Or practicing your magic?” Nokt asked, weary of her presence.

Jordana raised a single brow at him, unperturbed by his blatant dismissal. “Are you asking me to leave?”

“The question is rhetorical,” Nokt replied flatly.

Jordana folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head slightly to the side. “Oh, so you’re not interested in why I came here? You’re not even a little bit curious?” Jordana pressed with a teasing lilt in her voice. There was a glimpse of excitement in her eyes. This girl was insufferable. It was like she enjoyed pushing his buttons.

Nokt resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, seeing that she wouldn’t leave the room. “I’m dying to know,” he said dryly, his voice thick with sarcasm.

She placed a hand over her chest. “Oh, you wound me, Nokt,” she quipped, feigning hurt. “Perhaps it’s such a monumental reason, one so earth-shattering, that your poor brain can’t even fathom it.”

“I’m sure it is,” Nokt said uninterested. He was merely playing along, hoping to speed up this agonizing interaction just so she could leave him alone.

“Well, even if you said no, I was still going to tell you anyway.” Jordana remarked.  

She reached into her pocket and revealed a purple crystal ball. Then, she waved her other hand in the air, and a red aura of energy began to swirl around it. The room began to thrum with magic.

Nokt’s eyes, previously dull and calm, now widened with alarm. His fighting instinct kicked into overdrive, registering that she was about to attack him with her magic. She was a threat that had to be neutralized. He shot to his feet, lunged forward, and his fingers locked around Jordana’s collar before she could even react. She let out a yelp before he lifted her off the ground.

The magic sputtered and died from her hand. Her fingers weakly clawed at his wrist, a futile attempt to break his hold over her. 

Nokt ripped the crystal ball out of her hand before tossing it away. It landed with a thud somewhere in the corners of the room.

His dark gaze bore into hers. “Don’t ever try to use magic on me again,” Nokt threatened, his voice a low, menacing growl.

“I wasn’t going to attack you if that’s what you were thinking,” Jordana clarified before giving him a wry smile. The red energy re-emerged, now emanating from both her palms, its blaze now brighter than before. Then, her brown eyes morphed into a deep shade of red.

At the same time, the room seemed to shift around them. The door and the walls were now completely covered in Theroxian runes, glowing with a radiant red light for a moment, before slowly fading away.

As the magic receded from Jordana’s hands, so did the redness in her eyes, now returning to their original color. 

“I soundproofed your room,” she explained, answering his unspoken question.

“Why?” he asked.

Jordana rolled her eyes in exasperation at his obvious question. “Because I don’t want anyone else outside to hear,” she answered, her gaze sweeping around at the walls, a silent assurance that the spell was working.

“What I’m about to say must be kept between us.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. There was a seriousness to her tone that he hadn’t heard until now, a stark departure from her carefree behavior.

Interest began to grow within Nokt. “Oh? What could be so important? And why tell me of all people?” he pressed.

“Well, I know I just alarmed you, and for that, I’m sorry,” she paused, her features softening. “But when you find the time, I would very much appreciate it if you let go of me, brother,” she said, her voice filled with a deliberate, almost theatrical emphasis. Azure eyes widened with a mix of shock and utter confusion.

“You wouldn’t want to leave me without a body now, would you?” She finished with a smug grin.

Nokt blinked, now realizing that he was still hoisting her up. He gently released her and took a few steps back. Her words took the breath out of him. He was completely baffled, unable to think clearly. The fate of his siblings was once depressingly clear to him, but now, his understanding of how things were begun to crumble around him.

“Rox?” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the loud, frantic thumping of his heart.

Chapter Text

“It’s me, brother,” Rox said with a soft smile.

“How is it that you’re here? When did you escape?” Nokt paused, now remembering something that his sister did many times throughout their war campaigns in the Wyldness.

“Did you transfer your soul to this body?” he asked. The possibility that this was Rox wasn’t as far-fetched as it initially seemed, as he reminded himself of her supernatural capabilities in magic.

“I did, just before the gateway closed,” she answered with a prideful smile. She lifted her head up with an arrogant flair, her hands now resting on her hips, a stance that she usually held while accompanying her siblings.

If this really was Rox, it would explain the uncanny traits that she showed. The footsteps he heard from earlier, her smugness, her confidence, the cold tone in her voice, and that witty humor of hers. It all made sense now. He knew he felt something faintly familiar throughout their conversations. It was like talking to a familiar presence that was somehow out of reach.

But a nagging doubt ached in his gut. What if this was Jordana, impersonating his sister and mimicking Rox’s quirks and mannerisms? Was she lying to him? Was she trying to lower his guard? For all he knew, this was all Ras’s doing, who instructed his servant to deceive him and worm her way into his trust.

A knot of unease tightened in Nokt’s chest. His more cynical side insistently whispered to him that he should assume the worst of this girl. Yet he still clung to the possibility that Rox was in this vessel. He felt utterly conflicted. But like with every problem, there was always a solution. He just had to find it.

He released a frustrated growl. “I don’t know who I’m talking to right now,” Nokt said, his voice thick with uncertainty. “I don’t know if you’re here or if this is just a ploy concocted by Ras. But if you really are my sister, I need you to prove it to me. Understood?”

Amusement danced in her eyes, almost as if she found the interrogation she was now in to be entertaining.

“Fair enough. Let’s get this over with. Ask away,” Rox said nonchalantly, before flopping back on the bed. A loud snap filled the air as one of the wooden bed slats broke from underneath her.

She brushed her hair before tucking her hands under her head, now patiently waiting for her brother’s questions.

Nokt sat on the edge of the bed, his body rigid and tense. He scrutinized the red-haired girl, searching for any signs, any subtle mannerisms, or hidden resemblances that gave him an indication that this was his sister. He now wished he had observed her more instead of wallowing in silence throughout the entire time they conversed earlier.

“Tell me, are we related by blood?” He began.

Rox nodded in affirmation. “Yes, we are.”

“Are the rest of the Five related to us by blood?”

“No,” she quickly answered.

“Where were we born?”

"The wolf village deep in the Shadow Forest," her voice softened as she spoke of their former home.

Nokt’s eyes bored into hers, searching for any hint of inconsistency. “Tell me, what is the most important thing in this world?”

“Strength!” she declared the word like a battle cry, echoing through the room.

“How did we first discover Theroxian magic?”

“Our mentor introduced us to it. While the rest of you focused on the more physical aspects of your training, he showed me how to master it,” Rox said with a twinge of pride.

“How did we create Shatterspin?”

“After we formed the Five, we all agreed to create our own martial art, one that relied on strength. We needed more power, unstoppable power, to decimate our enemies. After months of relentless training, we finally created it!”

“Ah, that was such a fond memory,” Nokt said nostalgically with a faint smile. “Tell me the titles that the denizens of the Wyldness gave us,” he continued, still needing more evidence to know for certain that she was who she claimed to be.

“They called you a brute. An enforcer because of your leadership over the wolf clan and those who submitted to us,” Rox recalled.

A sudden shadow fell over her face. “They called me a witch. A hag. A demon.” The words tasted like ash on her tongue.

“Why did they call you these names?” he asked.

“Because I did magic,” Rox curtly replied.

“And?” Nokt prompted, his eyes locked on hers. He knew full well there was more to her answer than she was letting on.

Rox’s jaw tightened. A flash of anger momentarily flared in her eyes. “Ask me something else,” she suddenly demanded, a clear attempt to divert the conversation.

Nokt shook his head and crossed his arms. “If you truly are my sister, then you should know why they called you these names. If you don’t tell me, then…” He paused; the implication was chillingly clear to her.

“You already know why!” she snapped, her voice rising in pitch. Her hands trembled slightly and clenched into fists at her sides. The mask of composure began to crumble.

“Just… ask me something else,” Rox pleaded. She wanted to bury the subject, but of course, Nokt wasn’t going to let her.

“I want to hear it from you. Tell me,” he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“But I don’t want to…” she began with a petulant whine, before stopping herself as she met Nokt’s disapproving gaze.

“Argh! Fine!” she conceded in frustration. “It was because…” she began, the words catching in her throat. “Because the other tribes saw me perform magic. Forbidden magic. They were all superstitious. Their stupid, primitive minds thought that it was evil, so they accused me of witchcraft,” she whispered resentfully. Her shoulders slumped. The weight of the memory seemed to physically press her down.

A shuddered breath hitched in her throat. The hubristic and calm expression she usually wore was completely gone. The haunting memories that were dormant for so long now clawed their way to the surface of her mind. 

Rox could still hear the cacophony of hateful cries and the shouts of condemnation. The accusations, sharp and venomous, still echoed in her ears, each word wounding her deeply from within. She could still see the blurred faces of the crowds surrounding her, their judgmental gazes making her feel so small, insignificant, and utterly exposed.

The torment she endured at the hands of her persecutors resurfaced in her mind. She gripped the bed sheets so tightly that her knuckles began to turn white. The pungent scent of burning wood and the choking smoke that stung her nostrils returned. She could still feel the searing heat that threatened to engulf her.

Nokt noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. The rigidness of her body and the fleeting glimpse of fear in her eyes before they lit up with pure, unadulterated hatred. Just as quickly as it came, the fire in her eyes was extinguished, buried behind the calm, confident mask that she put back on.

To him, this didn’t appear to be an act. This looked like she was experiencing real, genuine feelings. Knowing that this may very well be his sister, he began to feel a pang of regret for pushing her too hard on the subject and triggering those awful, repressed memories that he knew all too well.

He sighed and shifted the focus of their conversation. “And the others?” he asked gently.

“They called Zarkt so many names, I can’t even remember all of them. But he was widely known as the beast of the Wyldness. From the forest of fallen leaves to the scorching deserts, the tundra of the arctic wolves, all the way to the burning seas, that meathead always used to get himself into so much trouble. But we would always be there to get him out of it.” She smiled fondly at the chaotic, violent times that she and the others shared with Zarkt long ago.

“Some of the other insect tribes called Drix a leech. A parasite. His swarms always sucked the life and blood from his enemies.” She reeled in disgust, seeing the vivid imagery of insects covering and feeding on the corpses of Drix’s foes on the battlefields and leaving them as desiccated husks.

“And Kur… she was known as the ghost. The shadow walker that made so many fear the dark.”

Rox still remembered the haunting stories that were told of Kur. Of how the tribes of the Wyldness told of a wraith that crept through the lands and lingered in the forests.

Tales were told of disappearances in the dead of night, or sometimes, even in the middle of the day. People who traveled alone or became separated from groups were never seen again. Some creatures sensed a chilling presence, watching and lurking from the shadows. The temperature would suddenly drop, birds stopped singing, and a foul smell permeated the air. The feeling of unseen eyes watching from the forests. Those who claimed to have seen a fleeting glimpse of Kur described her as a gaunt, shrouded figure wrapped in beige before she vanished in the blink of an eye.

Parents forbade their children from going out to play in the forests. Villagers would lock and barricade their doors. Some even put markings on their doors to ward off evil. When the sun set and nighttime arrived, the tribes would position guards to protect their lands. The fires were always kept alight until dawn. To the denizens of the Wyldness, Kur was a faceless horror, the embodiment of the unknown. Those who knew her name never dared to utter it.

A shadow crossed Rox’s face. “She was the ghost of people’s nightmares. That’s all she was to everyone else. But not to us."

“Moving on, who imprisoned us?” Nokt asked.

Her jaw clenched, and her eyes blazed with hate. “The two dragon masters from the east,” she spat out venomously. The memory of that day was fresh and vivid, as if it took place yesterday. The sting of defeat, the humiliation of being outmatched, and the raw, burning anger that she felt never left her mind, even after all these years.

“With the help of that so-called sorceress,” she added, her voice thick with scorn. “She didn’t even hold a candle to me,” she haughtily finished and let out a dismissive snort.

Filled with immense pride and unwavering belief in her own superiority, Rox couldn’t conceive of anyone being her equal in magic. The idea was utterly ludicrous to her. The centuries of peace must have taken a toll on the high sorceress by now, making her a shadow of her former self. A frail, senile woman, whose victory all those ages ago would lead to her eventual defeat, served upon a silver platter for Rox. A cruel, eager smile formed on her lips as she couldn’t wait for the day to come when she took her revenge on the sorceress.

“Of course. After all, no one can compare to your skills in magic,” Nokt calmly commented, with an amused look as he blatantly fed her ego.

“That’s right, brother! No one ever has, nor ever will! For I have and shall always be unrivaled!” Rox declared arrogantly, raising a fist into the air. It was a brazen, almost childish display of her boundless narcissism, with an utter lack of humility. Nokt watched with a barely concealed smirk as she continued boasting to him about her endless capabilities in magic.

He always found Rox’s inflated ego to be quite entertaining to watch. Often, he would stroke her vanity, especially when she and Zarkt used to compare their own achievements and capabilities against each other. Those two always used to fight over the pettiest of things, due to their competitive nature. Sometimes Kur would take part in their squabbles. Their sibling rivalries were always fun to watch, well up until Drix intervened.

Upon seeing the red-haired girl show that same vibrant, overbearing ego, he felt a shift within him. The doubt he had been filled with began to dissipate, now leaning more towards the possibility that the person talking to him was his sister. He decided to ask more personal questions, just to further test her memory.

“Tell me, what is your favorite spell?” he asked, watching her intently, searching for any flicker of hesitation, any sign that she was grasping for an answer.

She scoffed at the question. “You know me. I don’t have a favorite spell.”

Nokt's breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened slightly. That... that’s exactly what Rox would have said. 

“Plus, there are so many spells. It would be impossible for me to choose,” she mused to herself.

“Remember when we went deep into the woods, where you always studied your magic?”

Rox smiled, her eyes softened, reminiscing about the times of their childhood. Back when it was just the two of them. “I do. Oh… that was so long ago. It was where I performed my first spell.”  

“Which was?”

“A telekinesis spell,” she answered. “I was trying to lift a rock.” The memory was still as clear as if it happened yesterday.

“Do you remember what you said to me afterwards?” He pressed.

Rox chuckled softly. “I said, ‘This whole time, I’ve been doing it wrong’. I kept on forcing the rock to move over and over again! I thought I was going insane!”

“You were,” Nokt said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Rox laughed some more. “I know, right? I really was! Well, after trying a hundred times or so, I realized that forcing it wouldn’t work. I had to control the spell and set my intent. I had to be calm, envision the rock to move and use the spell to bend it to my will.”

“You once told me and the others about your view on magic. What was it?”

“I said that it’s a source of strength, but it can also be used for survival. It can save your life and give you the power to defeat your enemies. It has two different sides. Power and survival.”

“What is the code of the Forbidden Five?”

“The only way to survive in this world is strength. Strength is all. The strong survive and the weak die,” Rox recited, the words rolling off her tongue with ease.

The mantra was engraved deep within the souls of the Five, a truth that burned into their very being. A visceral, constant reminder to the Five of the unforgiving reality of the world. Their philosophy had been forged from the crucible of all the hardships, cruelty, and suffering they had endured throughout their lives. It’s what brought them together in the first place. It drove every action and decision that they made and paved the path to where they were now.

Nokt wanted to believe that this was Rox, but there was still some doubt lingering in the back of his mind. It’s not enough, he thought, his teeth now clenched. Or was he just that paranoid?

For all he knew, Ras and Jordana knew everything about the Five. Their names, their past, their history, their deeds, and their personalities.

He needed something more tangible. A light bulb lit up in his head. Of course! This would be irrefutable proof that his sister’s soul truly inhabited this body, or that this was all just an elaborate ruse.

“My sister would know how to perform Shatterspin. Demonstrate it to me right now. If you can't,” his eyes narrowed to slits, “then I’ll know that you’ve been lying to me this entire time, and I will kill you for impersonating my sister.” The words hung in the air, heavy with the threat he intended. He watched her closely, searching for the slightest flicker of hesitation. 

Rox let out a loud, exasperated sigh. She ran a hand through her auburn hair before she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Just when I was getting comfortable,” she pouted.

“Quit your whining and get on with it,” Nokt snapped, his foot now tapping impatiently against the uneven planks of the wooden floor.

“Alright, alright,” Rox drawled, her pout softening into a wry smile. “No need to get your fur in a twist,” she teased.

Nokt averted his gaze with a faint scowl before a barely perceptible smile began to tug at his lips.

Rox slowly stood up from the bed and made her way to the center of the room.

“Just don’t get mad at me if I make a mess. I’m not used to this body yet.” As if to emphasize her point, she arched her back, followed with an audible crack. She sighed, and a visible wave of relief washed over her face.

Nokt stood up and took a few steps back to give her space, now waiting in anticipation.

Rox stretched her unfamiliar limbs and loosened the joints before she positioned herself in a fighting stance. She leaned her body forward, spread her legs out, and closed her eyes.

She drew a deep breath in before stomping her foot on the weathered floorboards with a resounding thump. A small, red shockwave rippled outward from beneath her foot. Nokt’s eyes widened as he saw this.

She stomped again, and again, the sound of each impact resonating through the walls. Her eyes opened, now glowing a deep shade of red once more. A vortex of crimson and black began to swirl around her, crackling with power and piercing the dimness of the room. Nokt watched in awe as Rox spun, and with the graceful movement of her arm, she unleashed a concentrated wave of energy with precise control at the window, smashing it into pieces.

His face split into a broad smile as the confirmation settled in. He felt as though a heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders. All his previous doubts and uncertainties were swept away as he now knew that the person standing before him, the one he had been talking to this entire time, was his sister. The anger, sadness, and hollowness that had plagued him vanished, replaced with a warm, comforting feeling that spread through him.

He was no longer alone.

Chapter Text

“Rox! It really is you!” Nokt exclaimed, his voice thick with joy. He reached her in a heartbeat, his arms wrapping tightly around her, holding her closely to him. Momentarily stunned by Nokt’s elation, she quickly melted into the hug, her arms circling his back.

“I thought I would never see you again,” Nokt choked out, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Rox patted her brother on the back. “You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m here,” she murmured, a comforting warmth resonating in her voice.

“Don’t you know that it takes more than a void of nothingness to separate us?” she asked in a cocky tone to lighten the mood.

Nokt let out a watery chuckle. “I guess I do now.”

Rox quirked a smile at her brother and gave him a light punch in the arm. “You know, you should’ve just had me to do Shatterspin first instead of asking me all those ridiculous questions.”

“I… I didn’t think about it at the time.” Nokt said sheepishly.

Rox shrugged. “Eh, it doesn’t matter now,” she said dismissively, not wanting to dwell on the past. All that mattered to her now was the present.

“Tell me what happened. When did you get into that body?” Nokt questioned, curious about her escape from Netherspace.

“Well, it’s rather simple, really,” she said casually, as if her act of borderline impossibility was an everyday thing for her. She punctuated the statement with a nonchalant wave of her hand, further downplaying the enormity of her escape.

“Why don’t we get more comfortable?” she suggested, patting the edge of the bed.

“Assuming it can still hold both of our weight,” Nokt replied with a dry chuckle. The bed looked like it was one wrong move from completely collapsing.

“We’re going to need new beds,” Rox said.

“No kidding,” he muttered.

The two siblings settled onto the bed and nestled together, both wrapping an arm around each other’s shoulder.

“When I saw the gate beginning to close, I knew there wouldn’t be enough time for all of us to be freed. Just before it closed, I separated my soul from my body,” she calmly explained despite the magnitude of her actions. “That’s when I took control of this vessel you see here, without anyone noticing. It wasn’t hard, trust me,” she finished, a brief, proud smile lit up her face.

Nokt’s brow furrowed, a look of exasperation crossing his face. His hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m glad you’re here. I really am. But you could have discussed this with the rest of us earlier. Next time you plan on detaching yourself from your body, can I get a little warning first?” he asked, vexed that she didn’t tell him about this beforehand while they were imprisoned.

“Well, excuse me for not knowing that the ritual would end in failure. Otherwise, I would have told all of you,” she retorted, not seeing the issue in her actions. "It's not like I was anticipating things to go awry today."

He rubbed a hand across his forehead and sighed heavily. “All I’m saying is that a little communication would have made all the difference for me. For all of us. The others are probably wondering why your body isn’t even moving.”

“Oh, would you quit your gripping? I acted at the right moment. I knew everything would play out to my favor,” Rox said self-assuredly.

Nokt raised a skeptical brow at her. “Uh-huh. I’m sure you did,” he replied in an unconvinced tone.

Rox lowered her gaze. Her smile shifted to a sheepish one. “Alright, you caught me. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” she admitted, a small, embarrassed laugh escaping her lips.

“You know, I’ve never known you to be instinctive. I thought you always planned things through, like the perfectionist that you are,” Nokt teased back, recalling the times when Rox would strategically plan to flank, or surprise attack their enemies, ensuring the Five’s victories in the past.

“Well, today’s a first in ages. But you must admit, my impromptu plan made our reunion quite dramatic, don’t you think?”

Nokt shook his head, a barely perceptible twitch of irritation pulling down the corner of his mouth. “You and your taste in theatrics,” he muttered.

A waggish glint appeared in her eyes. “At least I’m not so uptight about every little thing,” she shot back with a smirk.

“No need to be so excessive, like your ego,” he quipped with a smile, knowing that his words stung her.

“Ouch!” Rox exclaimed, her hand covering her chest in mock pain. “You know, some ego would be good for you. Maybe then, you’ll start being more positive instead of a grumpy bear all the time. Oops, I mean a grumpy wolf,” Rox teased, before letting out a giggle.

 “I am positive,” he said flatly.

Rox snorted in response. “Sure, you are,” she drawled with heavy sarcasm. “Like the sun rises in the west.”

“I am! I know how to be positive,” he insisted, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced away, now trying to remember an instance to prove his point.

“Oh, really?” she asked, leaning forward slightly. “Because I thought that was Drix’s forte. You know, when he used to tell us all those awful insect jokes to… bug us? Huh? Get it?” She punctuated the pun with a wide smile and an elbow jab.

“Very funny,” Nokt deadpanned.

“Alright then, mister positive. Tell me, when was the last time you were even half as optimistic as Drix?” she challenged, tapping her fingers on the bed rail.

“Well… it was probably sometime in Netherspace. I don’t remember. I’m sure you would though. Your memory is probably better than mine,” he grudgingly admitted.

“Don’t you know by now that I’m better at everything than you? It’s just a fundamental law of the universe, like gravity," she said, her voice brimming with mock superiority.

Nokt scoffed and rolled his eyes. “The only thing you’re better at is letting your ego inflate to the size of the moon!” he shot back, a flicker of a smile threatening to break through his serious facade. “Oh, and magic,” he quickly added.

“I don’t hear you denying my words, so it must be true!” Rox teased in a singsong voice. "Unlike your claims of being positive."

“I think you’ve been in orbit for too long. Why don’t you come back down to earth?” Nokt said, a slight upward twitch at the corner of his lips betraying his inward amusement.

Rox cocked her head slightly, her eyes now glinting with mischief. “Make me,” she dared.

Excitement flashed in Nokt’s eyes. “Are you challenging me to a spar?” he asked eagerly, his body tensing with anticipation.

Rox gave him a coy smile. “I don’t know. Are you?” she asked, her voice dripping with faux naivete.

Nokt’s lips pulled into a reluctant smile. “Well, now I’m tempted to, with you acting all innocent.”

“As much as I’d like for us to spar, I’m afraid that will have to wait. I need a bit more time to adjust to this vessel,” Rox admitted, a hint of frustration flitting across her face. 

“Just don’t expect me to go easy with you since you aren’t in your real body,” Nokt said, his brows raised in a teasing manner.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way!” Rox exclaimed. “Still, it doesn’t matter what body I’m in. As always, I’m still going to mop you to the floor!”

Nokt leaned back and crossed his arms. “Oh, is that so? We’ll see about that.”

“Indeed, we shall,” Rox grinned.

A beat of silence hung between them. Nokt turned to his sister and spoke with a sudden serious note in his voice. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but why didn’t you reveal yourself to me just after we were teleported here? Or when you came here to see me?”

“Because you know me better than anyone else. If I can fool you, then I can fool everyone else. Plus,” she paused, gesturing vaguely with a hand towards her legs. “I had to walk around and start to become familiar with this body, especially with these legs,” she said with a slight grimace. “Still, I did lay a few breadcrumbs for you here and there.”

Nokt’s gaze shifted as he replayed their earlier interactions in his mind. He slowly chuckled, looking back at the subtle and not-so-subtle hints that she purposefully gave him. "Now, I see what you were doing, you rascal." He reached over and ruffled her hair.

Rox reached up and smoothed out her auburn bun.

“Don’t worry, your hair looks fine. I mean, your host’s hair looks fine.”

Rox rolled her eyes. “I know what you mean.”

“Speaking of your host, is she resisting your control?”

Rox thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, she’s not. When my soul struck her, it must have knocked her unconscious.”

“She won’t be a problem, right?” Nokt asked with a hint of concern.

“Of course not,” she replied confidently, unable to see herself losing control over this body. "Ras and the clan cannot know that I'm here, so I trust you know who to address me as.”

Nokt paused as he began to mentally search for the name of Rox’s host, to no avail. “What’s her name again?”

“It’s Jordana. Try to remember that name.”

“Remind me if I forget.”

“Earlier, you were angry. I don’t think revealing myself to you then would have been a good approach. So, I decided to wait.”

It made sense to Nokt. She considered that he wasn’t thinking clearly at the time, so of course she figured that he wouldn’t have believed her then.

“Tell me, why were you angry earlier? Was it because of Ras?” Rox asked.

Nokt grimaced as he thought back to when he exploded in anger and struck the wall. “Not just at him. I was angry at myself for not being able to free all of you. If only I had more time…”

Rox averted her gaze and bit her lip; her eyes were now filled with regret. She leaned her head on his shoulder and began to rub his back. “I’m sorry, brother. I should’ve told you sooner.”

“It’s alright. You had your reasons. Better safe than sorry.”

Rox grasped her brother’s shoulders, bringing his attention to her. She stared into his eyes with a fixed gaze and a solemn look. “Just don’t blame yourself. The only person who’s at fault here is Ras. Everything that happened today was out of your control.”

Nokt was taken aback by his sister’s words. Surprise filled his features before morphing into relief. “Thank you, sister,” he said with a smile.

Rox offered her brother a tender smile. Her voice then hardened with urgency. “Alright, enough sappiness. We need to start to focus on freeing the rest of the Five.”

“Agreed. But how will we accomplish this? The ritual was the only known way of creating a portal to the Netherspace.”

“There’s always another way. We just need to find it,” Rox guaranteed.

“That hasn’t escaped me. But where would we even begin?” Nokt wondered aloud.

“I’m asking myself the same thing,” Rox muttered, lifting her chin and pondering in deep thought.

Her mind immediately drifted to the Theroxian library, a repository of vast, ancient knowledge that the Five had poured countless hours into, delving into its secrets and utilizing them in training and war. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came.

She sighed in frustration. “I know every single Theroxian grimoire and scroll like the back of my hand. There’s nothing in our library that can help us. I’m afraid we’re in the dark. At least, for now.”

Her gaze then darkened with reluctant consideration. She knew her suggestion would not sit well with her brother. “You’re not going to want to hear this,” she slowly started. “But perhaps Ras may know of another method. After all, he knew about the blood moon ritual.”

Nokt’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing into slits. “We are not going to Ras for answers,” he firmly stated.

“I know he fled before freeing the rest of us, but what if he knows of another method?” Rox asked.

“We’re not taking that chance,” Nokt stressed, his hands balling into fists. Rox followed his gaze down, noticing that his claws began to draw blood on his palms. “He may suspect something if we ask him such questions. Plus, if he already knew of another way, he would have planned it or attempted it by now.”

Rox sighed, seeing that her suggestion only did more harm than good. “Very well then.”

“What if we found a djinn? Perhaps they could give us the answer we seek,” Nokt suggested.

Rox shook her head. “Their realm was destroyed many years ago. Now, very few djinns remain in the world. Searching for one would take far too long.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

“Not at the moment. Well, actually…” Rox’s voice trailed off as a new train of thought sparked in her mind. Her lips curled into a smile as the idea solidified. “Sometimes the answer is standing right in front of you. Like this pathetic human that I’m possessing. Perhaps there’s something in her mind, like a memory or a clue that can help us.”

Nokt gave her an incredulous look. The last place he expected her to look was in the mind of the human vessel she was currently inhabiting. “Good luck. I doubt she contains anything useful.”

“If you have any other suggestions, I’m all ears! Otherwise, keep quiet while I focus,” Rox chided.

Silence descended upon the room, allowing her to concentrate.

Rox settled into a meditative position and closed her eyes. Just as she was about to invade the mind of her host, she felt a cold hand grip her wrist and shake her arm. She opened her eyes, about to berate her brother for breaking her concentration, only to see his eyes fixed on the door with his brows furrowed.

Nokt let go of her and pointed an ear at the door, listening closely.

“What is it?” Rox asked.

“Someone’s coming,” he warned.

Rox trusted her brother’s impeccable hearing. After all, her original body shared the same enhanced senses as his. “Who is it?”

“Ras,” he uttered the name with strong hatred. “I can smell him from here.”

The sound of heavy thuds now echoed throughout the hallway and hit Rox’s ears. The tiger’s footfalls were a drumbeat that announced his unwelcome arrival. She clicked her tongue in frustration, seeing that she would have to postpone her probing. "What do we do?"

“If he enters, remain calm and natural. And whatever happens, don’t do anything rash,” Nokt instructed.

“Will do,” Rox replied.

She quickly deactivated the soundproofing spell. The glowing runes on the walls lit up for a moment before fading away into crimson dust and vanishing into thin air. She extended her hand out, causing the purple crystal ball to come rushing back into her grasp.

The door swung inward with a heavy thud. The large frame of Ras loomed in the doorway, his intrusion interrupting the privacy that the siblings had basked in moments ago. His gaze swept across the dusty room before landing on Rox sitting idly next to Nokt, her fingers delicately tracing the crystal ball with admiration. A wrinkle of confusion creased his brow. Of all the places, he didn’t expect to find her here in Nokt’s quarters.

“Jordana? What are you doing in here?” Ras demanded.

Rox pretended to draw her attention away from the crystal ball and slowly lifted her gaze to meet the tiger’s eyes. “Ah, Lord Ras. Nokt was just giving me some lessons on Theroxian magic,” she said calmly.

“Hm. Good,” Ras acknowledged, nodding curtly, satisfied with her commitment to her studies of the dark arts, even after her failure today.

A slight curve touched the corner of her lips, a ghost of a smile that betrayed her inner amusement. Idiot, she gleefully thought, seeing that the lie worked. Of course, it would work. After all, she always was a talented liar.

Ras shifted his gaze to Nokt, who was glowering resentfully at him, a clear sign of the animosity that he held towards the tiger.

“Nokt, you will come with me,” Ras commanded in a harsh voice.

“Why should I?” Nokt challenged with blatant insolence.

Ras gave the wolf a low, rumbling growl. “Because I need you to train with Cinder in order to hone your skills.”

Rox’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. Ras couldn’t be here just to sharpen Nokt’s skills. She knew the tiger had an ulterior motive, and it seemed that Nokt was now a part of whatever he had planned. “For what purpose?” she inquired.

Ras kept his attention solely on Nokt and pointed to him in emphasis. “Because very soon, you and Cinder will be competing in the tournament of the sources. I’m making the arrangements for us to receive our invitations. In the meantime, follow me.”

Nokt stood up and shook his head with defiance. “No, I won’t,” he said spitefully, rejecting the command.

Ras let out a frustrated growl, his face contorted into a scowl. “I don’t recall giving you a choice,” he snarled.

The tiger pulled out a small remote from his pocket and pressed the button. A bloodcurdling scream tore from Nokt’s throat as bolts of electricity ripped through him. He collapsed to the ground and writhed uncontrollably.

Rox unconsciously dropped the crystal ball. Her eyes dilated in horror, her hands flew to her mouth, and a sharp gasp escaped her lips. The calm mask that she wore so flawlessly in place instantly shattered. She scrambled to her feet, rushed to Ras, and frantically tugged at his arm in a desperate attempt to end the torture.

“Stop! Stop it now!” Rox cried out.

Ras ignored her pleas and shoved her away, sending her sprawling to the ground next to her convulsing brother. “Be quiet, Jordana! This doesn’t concern you,” he barked.

All thoughts of keeping her identity a secret vanished. Unable to bear the sight of her brother’s suffering, Rox felt a surge of hatred ignite within her. Her eyes burned with a fire of indignation, and for a split second, they glowed red.

Hiding a hand behind her back, she channeled her rage into a spell. Flickers of blue fire began to form at her fingertips before growing into a giant flame that engulfed her fist. She would burn Ras to ashes and return him to dust, like his ancestors that came before him.

Just as she was about to unleash the spell, a strained voice, barely audible above the crackling electricity, cut through the haze of her anger.

“Don’t,” Nokt whispered hoarsely. His eyes met hers. Even under the excruciating pain, he remained focused on the bigger picture.

Despite the burning fury that threatened to consume her, she hesitated. Nokt was putting their plan and their brethren first before himself. She now understood what he meant. Had she attacked, their plan would be jeopardized, and her identity would be revealed. With a sigh, she forced her anger back; the flame in her hand dwindled before flickering out. She stood up and glared at Ras, her eyes promising a future reckoning. All she could do now was look away and wait in painful silence for her brother’s suffering to end.

Finally, the electroshock ceased. Nokt lay on the floor, panting hard and groaning in pain with sweat rolling down his forehead. Rox leaned down and placed an arm around his back to help him stand.  

“I told you earlier that I expect loyalty from you. I will not tolerate any disobedience. Now, are you going to come with me, or do I need to do that again?” Ras asked, keeping his thumb on the remote button.

Nokt sighed resentfully and gave Ras a piercing glare. “I’ll go,” he complied, his voice tight with pain and laced with a simmering hatred.

His gaze darted towards Rox, whose lips were tightened, and her moist eyes filled with concern and lingering anger. He wanted to say something to comfort her and let her know that he was alright. But all he could do was give her a small smile, silently reassuring her that everything would eventually go their way. He was more than confident that Rox would find a way to free their brethren. All it would take was time, which unfortunately, was now working against them.

If Ras still wasn’t here, Rox would have already alleviated her brother’s pain with one of her spells. But she couldn’t. Instead, she gave him a subtle nod of understanding in return and flashed him a smirk. Ras, oblivious to the silent communication between the two siblings, left the room before Nokt followed him out and closed the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Rox repeated Ras’s words regarding the tournament of the sources. So, that’s why he wanted to free us!

Now it all made sense to her. She deduced that since the Forbidden Five were elemental masters, Ras would have had them all compete in the tournament for whatever plan he had in store. The gall that this wretched tiger had! To think that he would have used the Forbidden Five as pawns for his plan. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when his delusional control over them came crashing down on him. 

Thanks to Ras’s disclosure of entering the tournament, Rox now found herself in a race against time to find a way to free her brethren. She could practically feel the sand draining from the hourglass. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Without further delay, she activated the soundproof spell, the runes once again lighting up the walls, before their glow waned. She then approached the door and began to weave a complex locking spell. The room was now as secure as a vault; the door lock designed specifically for no one to be granted entry, except for Nokt.

Rox settled onto the dusty wooden floor and arranged her legs into a comfortable cross-legged position. She drew a deep breath, the air filling her vessel’s lungs, and slowly exhaled. She inhaled and exhaled a few more times before closing her eyes. With practiced ease, she reached out and entered Jordana’s mind.

The transition was jarring, as it always was. Rox opened her eyes, now in the form of her original body. She held up her hands and admired her sharp claws before looking down to see her small, nimble legs. The familiar weight of her sandogasa hat pressed down on her head. Despite knowing that this form wasn’t real, it was a comforting sensation against the unfamiliarity of the body she possessed. Oh, how she hated having to walk around with such lanky legs.

She stood in a flat, vast grass field. The sky above was filled with thick, dark clouds. A deafening boom reverberated through the mental world, followed by a blinding flash of lightning. She instinctively shielded her eyes, her claws brushing the wide brim of her hat. Then, the sky opened, not with a gentle drizzle of rain but a torrential downpour.

There was no way she would search through Jordana’s memories in this chaotic landscape. This would not do for her.

With a mental command, she began to visualize a different setting, an organized space that would replace the chaotic storm. She projected a specific image into the raging tempest, her intentions clear. With each carefully placed thought, she began to actively alter and reshape the landscape. The storm slowly began to recede. The heavy rain ceased, the sound of thunder now just a distant rumble, and the lightning faded into weak flickers.

Rox now stood in a small library, filled with the scent of paper and leather. There were rows of shelves, all filled to the brim with perfectly aligned books. Their spines were adorned with ornate lettering, their titles indicating the context of the memories they contained. Each book was a window into a specific moment of Jordana’s life, a captured memory, waiting to be read.

She admired the setting that took up the mind space of her host. It reminded her of when she and Nokt used to go to the tribal library, where she spent countless hours engrossed in her magical studies. She sighed in content, savoring the serenity. Here, no one could disturb her from her work.   

Rox strode to the nearest shelf, her claws trailing lightly along the spines as she considered her options. She glossed over the books that were labeled ‘childhood’, ‘school’, ‘hobbies’, and many other trivial parts of Jordana’s life. Her lips curled up in distaste. These things held no value for her. Her eyes landed on a volume that said, ‘magic’. Intrigued, she began to devour the book, sifting through the memories contained within the pages.

In such a short amount of time of learning Theroxian magic, Jordana was able to perform telekinesis, crystallomancy, the static spell, create a lightning storm, and even corrupt the magic of Gandalaria, the high sorceress. For someone who has had over a lifetime of experience in magic, Rox had to admit she was impressed with Jordana’s capabilities. This girl certainly held a natural talent in the mystical arts. But talent was nothing without control, something Rox knew all too well.

She placed the book back on the shelf and moved on to another one. Then another, and then another. Her frustration grew with each book. Most of these memories were mundane, unimportant, and utterly useless to her goal. She returned the half dozen books back to where she found them before moving on to another shelf. Then, she tore through another dozen books and promptly returned them, with no luck in finding anything of use to her. Rox groaned impatiently, realizing that her search was going to take much longer than she had anticipated.

Information was all that mattered to her. Everything else was irrelevant. She couldn’t care any less about the emotions attached to these moments, nor the personal sentiments Jordana had felt. The moments of joy, sadness, fear, love, and hatred — all of it was inconsequential. All her desires, her ambitions, and her dreams were foolish. Rox continued to read the volumes of memories, determined to find something, anything of use to her.

The tranquility of the library was suddenly broken by a piercing shriek of surprise that bounced off the shelves and echoed across the ceiling.

With her concentration now disrupted, she let out a sigh of frustration. Even in the mental world, she couldn’t find solitude. Of course, her host just had to wake up now and discover her presence here. Didn’t this girl know that it was rude to make noise in a library? With deliberate slowness, she turned around, and her orange eyes met the widened, fear-stricken brown eyes of Jordana.

For a long, breathless moment, Jordana was paralyzed in terror at the sight of Rox, bathed in the dim light of the library. Her presence felt so overwhelmingly dark and malevolent. A bone-chilling coldness emanated from her that began to seep into the room. Jordana’s eyes met Rox’s glacial gaze. Her breath hitched in her throat, and a cold flash seared through her that made the hair on her arms stand up. Rox’s dark, ragged robe and tattered cape, coupled with her intimidating mask obscuring the lower half of her face, projected an aura of menace. To her, Rox looked like something out of a nightmare. 

Her eyes landed on the sharp, curved claws of Rox’s hands. She shuddered at the horrifying thought of them piercing her flesh. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run away, but her feet remained rooted to the ground. She was in the dark, completely clueless as to what happened to her and how she ended up here. She desperately needed answers, and unfortunately, it seemed that this creature was the only source of information. A glimmer of hope fluttered amidst the rising tide of terror within her. Perhaps this stranger could help her. She had to take the risk.

Rox, initially bristling with anger at the intrusion, found her irritation slowly evaporating. She tilted her head, observing Jordana’s form with curiosity.

So, this is what she looks like, she mused, taking in the slim build of the teenager. Her eyes moved to Jordana’s curly, auburn hair bun. She shifted her focus to her soft, smooth facial skin and her Imperian mark on her cheek before settling on the curve of her red lips. For a fleeting moment she felt a twinge of envy, coveting the beauty that Jordana held. She now wished for her real body to possess the same allure, to no longer wear a mask to hide her face.

Then, the feeling was gone as she hardened herself. Beauty didn’t matter in a cruel, unforgiving world. It was merely a distraction, and distractions were weaknesses. Weaknesses could not be tolerated. Weakness led to pain, suffering, and death. All that mattered was strength.

Rox’s gaze remained fixed on Jordana, who continued to tremble before her. Her posture shifted subtly, her body leaning ever so slightly forward. Unconsciously, she licked her lips, practically tasting the sweet, potent waves of fear radiating off Jordana. The intoxicating, palpable terror was like drinking a heady wine, and she craved more. The tangible flavor resonated deep within her, stirring a primal, insatiable hunger that she hadn’t felt in ages.

It brought back vivid memories of times long past, when the villagers of the Wyldness cowered in fear before her, while the rest of her siblings laughed in sickening delight. When kings and queens that ruled over entire tribes prostrated themselves before the Five and pleaded for their lives. It felt so good to have complete power over others. To have such power over life and death. In her eyes, Jordana was prey, nothing more.

Rox yearned to bathe and drown in her host’s fear until there was nothing left but despair. She took a step forward towards Jordana before stopping herself. Her hand clenched into a fist, her claw digging into her palm in a conscious effort to restrain herself and quell the urge to further terrify her host.

I shouldn’t, she told herself. Perhaps later, she could feast on Jordana’s dread. But not now. This wasn’t the time to turn herself loose and indulge in her twisted appetite. Her mission was far more important, and time was slowly running out.

“Quiet yourself, child,” Rox commanded, her voice holding a subtle edge of warning. “I’m trying to read.” She gestured loosely to the open book in her hand.

Jordana, filled to the brim with fear, slowly managed to stammer out, “W-who are you?”

For a moment, Rox couldn’t believe that this girl didn’t see the family resemblance. She didn’t even bother to offer an answer and buried her face in the book.

“Are… are you one of the Forbidden Five?” Jordana’s voice rose slightly with a flicker of recognition.

Without looking up, Rox offered a curt nod, her attention still glued to the memories within the book.

For a member of the Forbidden Five, Jordana didn’t expect her to be rather… short. She had imagined a tall, imposing figure like Ras or the wolf man that was freed at the ritual. Still, her height didn’t make her look any less intimidating.

“I am Rox of the Forbidden Five. And I know who you are, Jordana.”

“How do you know my name?” Jordana slowly asked, unsettled that this stranger, who she had never met before, knew her name.

Rox ignored the question and continued to read.

“I only saw one of the Five come out of the portal. How is it that you’re here? Why are you here? And where are we?” Each question tumbled out of her mouth in quick succession, a frantic plea for answers. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together what was happening.

“Too many questions,” Rox stated flatly.

Jordana made her way to a wooden table, pulled up a chair, and sat down. She took in a few deep breaths and rubbed her forehead.

“Where are we?” Jordana asked.

Rox heaved a sigh and shook her head. Even if she wanted to, she could not rid Jordana of this place. It seemed that she would now have to endure this whelp’s presence until her task here was complete. “We are in your mental landscape, within your consciousness,” she answered.

Jordana’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Um, what does that even m—”

Rox cut her off mid-sentence. “We’re inside your mind. It's a place that exists inside every living being, one that very few know how to access,” she clarified with a hint of condescension, as if explaining something extraordinarily simple to a child.

“Oh, wait. A mindscape! I remember reading a bit of it in one of the Theroxian scrolls,” Jordana said, her eyes widened with recognition.

“But… if we’re inside my mind, then how is it we have bodies?” Jordana questioned.

“Our real bodies aren’t here. These are just our mental forms,” Rox said.

Jordana watched as Rox opened another book, her fingers delicately turning the pages. Somehow, she could feel every slight movement, each flip of the paper, and the sharp claws touching the book. She didn’t know why, but she was becoming increasingly anxious, a primal fear gripping her. Suddenly, an inexplicable, overwhelming feeling of vulnerability seized her.  

“Um, how do I get out of here?” Jordana asked, her voice trembling, gazing pleadingly at Rox, hoping for an answer.

“You don’t. Your fate has already been sealed,” Rox replied curtly, her attention completely absorbed by the book in front of her. Every word she said was like a hammer blow to Jordana's hopes.

“What happened to me? Why am I not in my body? Please, tell me what’s happened to me!” Jordana's voice rose to a panicked pitch. 

Rox let out a chortle. “Why don’t you use that little brain of yours?”

The very last moments of the ritual surfaced in Jordana’s mind. The memory was now crystal clear, and the fragmented pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. A red, fiery bolt shot straight towards her before a burning pain stabbed her in her chest.

“That red thing that hit me. Was… was that you?”

“My soul,” Rox answered aloofly. 

“Your soul?” Jordana repeated, her voice thin with terror. She recoiled internally, knowing that this entity dwelled within her own being filled her with revulsion.

But if Rox’s soul was inside her, and they were both here in her mind, then… who was controlling her body? A new, even more terrifying wave of panic washed over her. “You… you did something to me! I was in my body before, but now I’m not! What did you do to me?!”

Rox finally turned back to Jordana, her lips curved into a cruel smirk, hidden behind her mask. “I can’t believe I have to spell it out for you. It’s called being possessed. By yours truly,” she said with dark amusement.

“I’m… oh no. No, no,” Jordana whispered, letting out a shuddered breath and shaking her head in denial. The realization hit her like a physical blow, sending waves of nausea through her. She buried her face in her arms and felt like she was about to puke. She didn’t know if that was even possible, since her form and this place only existed in her mind. It was like a nightmare now turned into a reality.   

Jordana took a moment to process all of this. She was now possessed by a member of the Forbidden Five. More questions began to flood her mind. Why was Rox possessing her body? What could she want with her? What did she have planned? Would she ever leave her body? Did anyone else know that she was being possessed?

“Could you leave my body? Please?” she asked shakily.

“No,” Rox flatly replied.

“What can I do to make you leave?” Jordana asked, hoping to appeal to her in some way.

Rox remained silent and continued to read.

“If you need something, or if you need me to do something, tell me, and I’ll do it,” Jordana desperately offered.

Rox sighed loudly, clearly annoyed by Jordana’s attempts to bargain.

“There is nothing you can offer or do that will make me leave,” Rox said, as if her words were a law that Jordana could not break, or else she would suffer the consequences.

“Can you at least tell me what you’re doing here, reading… books? Wait, why are there so many books here?”

Rox let out a short laugh, amused by her host’s naivety and inability to understand what this place really was.

“This is a library. What did you expect me to do?” Rox countered.

“Wait, you said that we’re in my mind. Are these books my memories?” Jordana asked.

“They are,” Rox answered, now bringing her focus back to the book.

Jordana could feel Rox’s hands as she went through the memories in the book. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t just an invasion of privacy. It felt like a parasite was burrowing its way into her, rummaging through the most intimate aspects of herself. It was like a diary being read through without permission. Her mind, her sacred space where all her memories were stored in, was being desecrated by this evil soul. As Rox continued to read one book after another, Jordana was overwhelmed with a throbbing pain in her head. It was almost like a slow, agonizing migraine hitting her hard. With every page Rox turned, the pain grew.

“You… you can’t do this. This is my life you’re looking at!” Jordana cried out in desperation.

“Yes, I can. For now, you’re just going to have to deal with it,” Rox stated unsympathetically.   

“But I can’t!” Jordana’s voice broke, rising an octave in panic. “I want you to leave, and I want to return to my body! Just leave me alone!”

Rox’s eyes narrowed; the girl’s constant whining was starting to get under her nerves. “Why don’t you go find yourself a book instead of bothering me?” Rox snapped, her tone sharp and dismissive. “Perhaps you can revisit some of your cherished memories. Well, assuming you have any,” she suggested, further twisting the knife.

Jordana shook her head vehemently. “No, you need to leave! This is my mind, and you’re invading my privacy!”  

“That’s rich, coming from you, who so rudely interrupted my reading and invaded my privacy earlier,” Rox smugly retorted.

“I… I did?” Jordana asked naively.

Rox snickered, amused by the girl’s obliviousness. Or maybe she was just that dense.

Jordana’s brow furrowed, her confusion slowly morphing into realization. “Hey, you’re just trying to twist my words!” she exclaimed. “Just get out! Please!”  

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Rox said, before pulling out another book, indifferent to the growing distress of her unwilling host.

“Well, how would you feel if I went into your mind and began to read all of your memories?” Jordana asked, hoping that she appealed to Rox’s empathy. That is, assuming she had the capacity to empathize with others.

“How do you think I’d feel?” Rox asked back, a dangerous glint now present in her eyes.

“Um, uncomfortable? Scared? Terrified?” Jordana guessed, trying to articulate the whirlwind of feelings she was currently experiencing.

“Try furious. But I very much doubt you’d even want to see what my cathedral holds. Not a place for children like you.”

Jordana bit back the urge to ask for clarification, knowing that whatever Rox was alluding to was something she wouldn’t want to know. It was better to just remain in blissful ignorance than know whatever her memories held.

“I’ll take your word for it,” she whispered.

“Finally, common ground. Now, could you please be quiet and leave me alone?” Rox asked with fake politeness before starting a new book, creating a fresh wave of pain for her host.

“No! You leave me alone! I… I can’t stand this feeling!” Jordana begged shakily.

Rox shot her a glare. “I’m starting to lose my patience with you. Cease your incessant whining this instant.”

“Every time you look at my memories, it hurts! Please, just stop!” Jordana cried out, her voice breaking into a choked sob.

Rox ignored her host’s continuous pleas, completely disregarding the agony she was inflicting, and flipped through another page.

“Why are you even looking at my memories?”

“That is none of your concern. Now shut up, before I make you,” Rox threatened sharply, sending shivers down Jordana’s spine. 

Rox’s eyes landed on a book titled ‘enemies’. Perhaps this could give her insight into who the masked figures were at the ritual. With a spark of interest, she pulled the book out and began to read it, all the while hearing the irritating noises of pain coming from Jordana, her hands now grasping at her head.

The memory began with Jordana sitting alone at her desk with a volcano experiment in front of her, while the rest of the students were gathering around and admiring some odd-looking cube with lights floating around it. Rox rolled her eyes and turned the page, completely uninterested in her host’s childhood.

She skipped a few pages before observing another memory. The setting took place at the Shadow Dojo on the night of the blood moon. Jordana opened the gateway while Ras chanted the required incantations. A battle began to unfold at the ritual. Masked figures emerged from the forest of spirits and began to perform an all-too-familiar martial art. These must be the ninja Ras and Jordana mentioned throughout the memories she read.

“Practitioners of spinjitzu. What weaklings!” Rox chuckled.

Then, something in the sky caught her attention. It was a red, burning dragon, soaring up in the sky. Rox’s eyes narrowed, immediately recognizing the accursed technique, the very thing that defeated the Five eons ago. The red ninja had just performed rising dragon. Much to her dismay, she soon saw two other ninjas perform it. She clenched her fist and growled in frustration.

“Those wretched dragons,” she hissed, muttering curses under her breath. “Why haven’t they died from old age yet? Or wasting sickness?! Argh!”

They must have taught these ninjas their fighting technique in case the Five escaped. Rox had a nagging feeling that she and Nokt wouldn’t see the last of them. Though this news bode ill, she took something positive away from the memory. The dragon masters were now weak. If they were at full strength, they themselves would have tried to stop the ritual. Once the Five were fully reunited, taking their revenge on those so-called masters would be a piece of cake.  

Rox slammed the book shut and carelessly threw it over her shoulder, landing with a thud on the ground.

Jordana felt like a sledgehammer just hit her hard in the head. “Augh! Stop!” she screamed in pain, falling off the chair and collapsing to the floor.

Upon seeing her host crumple to the floor, Rox let out a scornful laugh that echoed through the library. Hearing her host’s whimpers and cries of pain was now becoming less of an annoyance to her and more like music to her ears, taking a sickening delight in it.

Each book that was taken out, and each page that Rox turned now felt like she was adding more fuel to a fire that was burning Jordana’s mind. The cruel, mocking laugh caused something to break within her. She slowly, shakily, stood up. A spark of anger grew within her. All she wanted now was for this monster to leave her alone. This was her body, her mind, and hers alone. Rox didn’t belong here.

One title immediately caught Rox’s attention. In golden letters, it read, ‘Source Dragon’. Surely, there had to be something of value in there. She opened the book and began to observe the memory, now witnessing a discussion taking place between Empress Beatrix and Dr. LaRow. She listened intently to every word that the two said. Her interest grew upon hearing the words that the empress said regarding the Source Dragon that they held imprisoned underneath the city.

Imprisoned? Who imprisoned it? And how? Rox wondered, curiosity rising within her. Imprisoning a Source Dragon was quite an impressive feat.

She was well aware of the existence of Source Dragons and how they operated. They were never known to reveal themselves to the mortals or set foot in the realms unless they voluntarily chose to. It was obvious to her that this Source Dragon didn’t come here of its own free will. Someone must have lured it to Imperium.  

The memory shifted to Jordana in front of a strange contraption that Rox couldn’t even begin to understand. She watched as Jordana commenced the energy-draining process of the Source Dragon. The test failed, yet she tried again. Seven times she tried, each one ending in failure. Her persistence surprised Rox, who was initially expecting her as one to give up so easily.

Dr. LaRow was now chastising Jordana for trying to drain the dragon over her pathetic desire to compete with Ana. Yet, she continued her attempts to drain the dragon’s power, just to prove her worth. To prove that she was better than her rival. Such imprudence. Such determination, wasted over something so foolish and insignificant.

After the eighth attempt, she successfully drained the Source Dragon.

She turned a page, watching Jordana sneak through a crowd of Imperians to leave her realm. Then Ras intercepted her, giving praise to her for draining the Source Dragon, before babbling on about how he used the Empress as a pawn and her resources to seek out more Source Dragons.

It was as clear as day to Rox that the tiger was manipulating Jordana. She listened as Ras monologued about his plan before Jordana followed behind him, and the two left Imperium.

Rox added two and two together. Ras used the container of Source Dragon energy to access the Shadow Dojo. He unveiled all its ancient knowledge and assembled all the necessary components to commence the blood moon ritual and free them. Though it wasn’t explicitly stated in the memory, Rox knew without a doubt that Ras was the one responsible for luring the Source Dragon and imprisoning it under Imperium. But how he did it remained to be seen.

She was now more convinced than ever that there was a memory here that could help free the Five. Searching for the answer was like looking for a needle in a haystack. But her instincts told her that she was getting close. She put the book away and moved to another shelf.

Rox’s ear twitched at the sound of rapid footsteps echoing down the hallway behind her. Her head snapped around to see Jordana rushing towards her, whose eyes blazed with resentment, her cheeks were flushed with anger, and her fists were clenched at her sides.

“If you won’t leave, I’ll make you leave!” Jordana shouted. She was going to make Rox pay for all the pain that she had caused her. Everything that she said to make her leave was either met with cold indifference or contempt. It seemed that violence was the only language that this witch understood.

Jordana skidded to a halt a few feet away from Rox. She began to wave her hands in the air to call upon her Theroxian magic and thrust her arms out to release it. Except, nothing happened. The orange energy she expected to see was absent, and she couldn’t feel the familiar buildup of magic beneath her palms. She tried to cast the spell again in a more forceful attempt, but her magic still wouldn’t respond.

“Wha— huh? It’s not working!” Jordana exclaimed incredulously. She moved her hands frantically, grunting as she desperately tried to conjure her magic. She had done it enough times by now to know that she performed the spell correctly, so why wasn’t it working?

Rox let out a throaty chuckle as she watched Jordana's futile attempts at summoning her magic. “Have you already forgotten? We’re inside your mind. Magic only works in the real world,” she sneered.

A flicker of realization crossed Jordana’s face, quickly followed by a fresh wave of anger. Of course. That would explain it.

“Leave my body right now, or else!” Jordana shouted.

Behind her mask, a smile formed on Rox’s lips, amused by Jordana's pathetic attempt at intimidating her. "Or else what? What are you going to do? Talk me to death?" she gibed, before giggling to herself.

“I’ll do worse than that, you monster,” Jordana vowed venomously.

She met the feral orange eyes, and for a moment, they widened, filled with an emotion that she couldn’t quite discern. They then quickly narrowed with a piercing glare, followed by an animalistic growl. But this time, Jordana didn’t show any fear. She simply glared back at the evil being in front of her.

"Insolent whelp! How dare you call me that!” Rox hissed, pointing one of her claws at her. “I should have you groveling at my feet this instant and thanking me for tolerating your pitiful presence for this long.”

Jordana grimaced in disgust as she envisioned the humiliating act. There was no way she would ever kneel before Rox, whether it was in the mental or physical world.

“Well, I can’t tolerate your presence!” Jordana shot back with indignation. “What you’re doing is hurting me! You need to get out right now!”

Rox let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m becoming tired of hearing that annoying voice of yours.”  

“Hey! My voice is not annoying! You are!” Jordana snapped, the childish comeback escaping her lips before she could even stop herself.

Rox let out a condescending chortle, unable to take her seriously, not even for a second. “You are certainly the feistiest host I’ve ever had.”

Jordana ignored Rox’s words, not caring whether it was an insult or a compliment. Her blood boiled hearing Rox laugh at her again, that mocking sound that was aimed at belittling her. “I’m not going to ask you again! Leave!” she shouted, her voice thick with rage.

Rox rolled her eyes dismissively and scoffed. “As if you could make me. Now be quiet and run along now.” She then turned around, and right as she was about to continue down the aisle, she felt something slam into her back, knocking the air from her lungs and sending her to the ground.  

Momentarily disoriented, she felt a pair of hands grip her shoulders and flip her onto her back. Jordana mounted Rox and pinned her arms to the floor with hers. She pulled her fist back before striking the wolf in the face and mask. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” Jordana screamed repeatedly.

Normally, Rox would have immediately retaliated or shouted a torrent of insults. Yet, beneath Jordana’s assault, she remained remarkably still, offering no resistance or struggle against the barrage of punches. No cruel taunts or belittlements escaped from her mouth. Her cold eyes were unnervingly calm amidst the pain. To her, this was like a kitten trying to maul a lion. A fruitless attempt to drive her out. However, she had to give credit to this petulant child for mustering the courage to stand up to her, something that very few ever did.

Another series of punches rained down on her, and she welcomed it with open arms. For too long, she remained in a state of existence, without feeling. This was the most pain that she felt in eons, a distant sensation that she once felt daily in the heat of battle. Though she wished the girl would hit her harder, it still felt good. A primal craving ignited within her, a desire for more. She wanted to experience that rush of adrenaline, that electric jolt she felt so long ago. The exhilarating sense of feeling alive.

A paradoxical laugh bubbled within Rox and escaped her lips. Startled by the sound, Jordana immediately halted her jabs and stared down at Rox in disbelief. Behind her anger, a pit of unease began to grow within Jordana. How could she laugh like this? This wasn’t the mocking laughter she heard from her earlier; this was unhinged. Deeply perturbed, she tried to search for an answer within the depths of Rox’s orange eyes. Was she laughing at her? At her anger? At her forceful attempt to make her leave?   

“Wh—what is wrong with you?!” Jordana stammered.

The only response Rox gave was her laughter, gradually growing in pitch and intensity.

Jordana landed a well-placed punch in Rox’s eye to make her shut up, but all it did was further fuel her deranged laughter.

“Stop! Stop laughing!” Her voice trembled with a mixture of anger and confusion, unable to comprehend the inappropriate response.

“And here I thought you wanted me to leave! Come on, is that the best you can do?” Rox taunted, a deliberate goad to infuriate Jordana and incite her into unleashing more pain upon her.

Provoked by the wolf’s words, Jordana continued to strike her, each blow harder than the last. Her knuckles ached and burned, but the sensation was easily drowned out by her rage.

The increased ferocity of her strikes caused Rox to erupt with hysterical laughter, relishing the pain. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard that grated on Jordana’s eardrums, further stoking the flames of her fury.

Jordana abruptly ceased her punches, her chest heaving with exertion and letting out heavy breaths.

Rox leaned her head up and whispered closely into Jordana’s ear. “You poor thing. Hasn’t it already sunk into your thick skull that your mind and body belong to me?”

Their faces were so close now that Jordana could see the wrinkles around Rox’s eyes, a telltale sign of a smile behind the creepy mask. She bared her teeth, and in a fit of rage, she grabbed Rox’s head and slammed it to the ground repeatedly. “No! This is my body! Not yours!”

A minute later, she was short of breath, small beads of sweat now trickling down her face.

“Are you done yet?” Rox asked, completely unfazed by Jordana’s aggression.

“I… won’t stop. Until you leave,” Jordana panted.

Rox slowly shook her head and let out a tut. “A sheep cannot eat a wolf. And you are not a wolf,” she said before cackling, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction in seeing just how powerless her host was.

Without another word, Jordana’s hands shot out and clamped around Rox’s throat, her fingers digging deep into the wolf’s fur and flesh. She sought to silence that infernal laughter, to finally rid herself of the dark, malevolent presence that had made her suffer while invading her memories. She would do whatever it takes to regain control over her body, even if it meant choking this evil witch to death.

Rox’s eyes widened in surprise, the manic laughter dying in her throat, replaced by a strangled gasp. Jordana's thumbs pressed against her windpipe, squeezing tighter with each passing second.

“Oh, that’s the spirit!” Rox rasped out.

A strong feeling began to bloom in her, one that she hadn’t experienced in ages. The euphoric sensation of aliveness surged through her, each moment of constriction intensifying the feeling. The thrilling pain she found herself deeply engrossed in was interrupted, as she felt her control over Jordana’s body slowly beginning to slip away. She let herself become so distracted in her state of pleasure that she had unconsciously loosened her grip over her vessel.

I can’t stay here all day. I’m just wasting time.

Rox grabbed Jordana’s wrists, pried them off her neck, and conjured up a swift thought to put her host in her place.

Chapter Text

In the blink of an eye, Jordana found herself inexplicably bound to a wooden chair. Thick, rough ropes dug into her wrists and ankles, making her wince. “How did you...” she trailed off, left completely dumbstruck. Her indignation was snuffed out like a fire, now replaced by a chilling sense of helplessness.

Rox stood up from the ground, unscathed as if nothing had even happened, and made her way to another shelf.

Jordana grunted as she tugged against the ropes. This just went from bad to worse. Now, her mental form was trapped. There was no way out of this chair or her mind. To top it all off, the bulging pain returned as Rox began to search through her memories once more.

Even if she somehow managed to free herself from her bonds, she had no idea how to regain control over her body. Maybe there was an entrance, or a door that led to her physical body. Or maybe… maybe there was no way out.

All she knew was that Rox was the cause of all this. The root of her predicament here. Oh, how she wished she could just kick Rox out of her mind like a soccer ball. If only it were that simple.

Jordana clenched her jaw to endure the pain she was undergoing. For now, she had to focus on finding a way out of this chair that somehow popped out of nowhere. These ropes felt so tight on her, she felt like her limbs were about to go numb.

Hold on, this chair couldn’t be real. Nor could these ropes. The lights, the tables, the bookshelves, this chair, these ropes, this entire library —all of it wasn’t real. It was all imaginary! They were all just representations of Rox’s thoughts and ideas that she materialized in her mind.

Even the blinking of her eyes, the breaths that she took in and released, and the movements of her body when she walked and ran were just a simulation. Everything that Jordana was used to doing with her physical body seemed to carry over into her mental form.

It was like seeing a mirage in the desert or experiencing a vivid dream.

It all made sense to her now. Rox visualized her securely bound in a chair, and that’s how she ended up here.

With her newfound understanding of how the mental world operated, she closed her eyes and began to picture her arms and legs lifting and tugging against the thick ropes before she broke free of them. She slowly opened her eyes, only to see the ropes still tightly wrapped around her. She frowned deeply. It should have worked. She should be free right now, but she wasn’t.

Rox held all the power here, while Jordana held none.

“Great. Just great,” Jordana muttered under her breath, a defeated sigh escaping her lips. Here she was, helpless inside her mind and completely alone. There was nothing she could do now, except endure the onslaught of pain and wait for Rox to find whatever she was here for and leave.

At this point, she was starting to accept the grim reality that she may be trapped here for however long Rox possessed her. Which may be a long time. It could be days, maybe weeks, or months. What was the point in trying anymore? What chance did she have of regaining control of her body against a millennia-old sorceress with far more experience, knowledge, and power than she could ever imagine? For all she knew, this probably wasn’t the first time Rox had possessed someone before.

How did I even end up here? What did I do to deserve this? Jordana asked herself.

This was all a mistake. This wasn’t supposed to happen to her. Why on earth did she even help Ras free these evil beings in the first place? Oh, right. She gave in to the temptation of power just to prove that she was better than Ana and the ninja. How ironic, where her pursuit of power led to. Now, she was more powerless than ever.

Look where that got me…

If only she had said no to Ras’s offer on that night. If only she hadn’t been so consumed by her petty rivalry with Ana. If only she hadn’t been so stupid, so self-centered, so driven to prove her worth.

Jordana let out a dry laugh at herself. This was her reward for helping Ras in his master’s plan and for unleashing two ancient evil souls into the world. The harsh reality sank into her now. It was entirely her own fault for ending up here, without even an ounce of control over her mind or body. This time, she bit off way more than she could chew, and for that, she was now paying the price. All her choices had brought her to this exact moment where her life was now held in the palm of Rox’s hand.

Actions had consequences. Almost destroying the world by siphoning a Source Dragon’s energy, solely to surpass Ana, was profoundly wrong. Learning forbidden magic and helping free five ancient, tainted souls was a misdeed that didn’t go unpunished. 

Evil begot evil. She had aided in releasing two of the Five upon the world. Did that mean that she was evil? Was she a monster, like Rox? She hoped she wasn’t, yet she couldn’t dispel the sickening feeling that she was.

Perhaps, this whole time, she was misguided or used like a tool by the hand of Ras. Still, she had no one to blame but herself. It was her own fault for following him and giving in to her selfish desires.

When she was asked—no, commanded by Ras to perform the forbidden magics, she always hesitated and felt this doubt that held her back. He insisted on making her do magic in ways that were too risky and too advanced for her, and meanwhile, she had only just begun to learn it. Yet, she was still able to successfully cast the spells. 

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t amount to anything, and all her efforts were never enough. It was as if she were an insignificant speck of dust in the eyes of everyone. She didn’t exist to anyone except those who wanted to use her for their means. No one ever saw her for who she was.

Jordana was afraid that she would never be defined as anything else in her life than just a pawn or a failure. She feared that she would never get the chance to become something more.  

If only she could go back in time and shout at her younger self not to make all the wrong choices that she made. She could have enjoyed her childhood and made some friends.

Friends. Every time she thought of that word, it was a painful, constant reminder of just how alone she really was throughout her life. A reminder of how alone she was now. If only she had a friend to help free her from Rox. But she didn’t, and it was her fault. All she had were allies who didn’t care for her.

She began to ponder how her life would have turned out differently if she had made some friends as a child, instead of constantly loathing Ana for being the star student of their class.

A small smile formed on her lips. She imagined herself and Ana as friends, talking and laughing together carefreely, instead of hatefully shouting at her to remember her name.   

Growing up, she was always isolated and bitter. Always hating everyone who was better than her, especially Ana. School was such a miserable part of Jordana’s life. She tried to make friends, but no one ever recognized her. Everyone kept on calling her everything but her real name, and every time, it deeply hurt her. Sometimes, she questioned if they were doing it on purpose, to bully her, and get on her nerves. 

She always felt so disregarded and unimportant. Like she was a ghost, invisible to the world. She wanted to be seen and remembered by someone. Anyone. Meanwhile, Ana was always praised and recognized by everyone.

Looking back, Jordana was now angry at herself for spending so many years of her life stewing in hatred and allowing her envy to consume her. The stark, cold reality crashed down on her like a tidal wave. If she had made a friend out of Ana rather than an enemy, she wouldn't have made such catastrophic mistakes and ended up here.    

If only she weren’t so delusional and had seen the truth sooner. The allure of power, once so enticing to her, was never worth it. The risks far outweighed the reward, and because she took it, her life now hung in the balance. 

“I’ve… wasted my life,” she whispered to herself.

A shudder of deep regret and shame racked her. It was all for nothing. In the face of being possessed, and her body now reduced to a puppet, she finally understood that everything she had once held dear was insignificant. It was just a waste of precious time.

She no longer felt the desperate need to prove herself and constantly seek validation from others. She let go of her narcissistic desire to be recognized and her petty rivalry with Ana. No longer was she a slave to her desires. The only thing that was important to her, the one thing that truly mattered to her now, was her life, and she wanted it back.

Jordana leaned her head back on the chair. For some reason, she felt rather relaxed now. A strange calmness washed over her, as if a storm had finally subsided. A warm, almost comforting sensation began to spread through her. The cold pit of despair that had submerged her like a heavy shroud was now melting away like a thick block of ice thawing into a puddle of water.

Tears began to well up in her eyes, blurring her vision and flowing down her face. She didn’t know why she was crying all of a sudden. But she wasn’t sad. If anything, she felt relieved and almost... happy. It was as if an invisible weight had been lifted from her.

A smile, small and hesitant at first, began to form on her lips. No, she wasn't just happy. She was now overjoyed. It was like someone had just given her a hug and whispered soft, reassuring words in her ear, telling her that she would get through this.

But how would she? She needed to get out of this chair, and find a way to stop this darn, nagging pain to— wait a second, it wasn’t there anymore. The sharp, agonizing pain that tormented her was completely gone. Did Rox finally find whatever she was looking for? 

Jordana looked up from the ground, her eyes darting around, and found herself alone in the hallway. Rox was nowhere to be seen. She must have moved to another aisle.

Jordana perked up her ears. She could still hear the faint sound of pages being leafed through. Rox was still in her mind, browsing through her memories, yet it no longer caused her any pain. Why? What had changed? When did the pain stop? She had so many questions, but so few answers. The how of it didn’t matter to her nearly as much as the fact that she was no longer in pain.

All she knew was that something was different now. She couldn’t quite understand or make any sense of it, but she felt something new stir within her. A warm, positive change.

She could just see it, crystal clear. A future where she enjoyed life and made the most out of it instead of squandering it. She would never repeat her mistakes again, find a new home, and perhaps one day, make amends with Ana. Maybe they could even be friends.

It warmed her heart to envision all of this. The more she thought about it, the more she yearned to make this dream a reality. To take the reins of her life back into her hands and steer it towards a brighter tomorrow.

No, she demanded to make this happen. A sudden spark of determination flickered in her. She vowed to herself that she would make this future happen, no matter what.

The small spark, fed by her resolve, quickly grew into a roaring flame. Where there was once despair, there was now hope.  

Something deep within her spurred. Instinctively, she felt herself now pushing against something. A dark, invisible force, filled with malice. It’s Rox! The realization punched through Jordana.

“This is my body. I am in control, not her,” she told herself with conviction.

Her desire to regain control wasn’t fueled by desperation, fear, or anger, but something else. Something pure and vital that she had unearthed from the depths of her despair. A wry chuckle escaped her, seeing how ironic it was that in her most dire hour, when she had seemingly lost all hope, she discovered the most precious thing of all. The will to live.

Emboldened by the flame of her will, she closed her eyes and focused before pushing back against Rox. Like with many things, Jordana was easily fooled, hastily judging things like a book cover. Initially, she saw Rox as an all-powerful, indomitable force of nature that she could never hope to overcome. But this couldn’t be further from the truth. Rox was just another person, driven by her own will.

Jordana could sense a subtle, yet undeniable shift. Rox’s control, previously absolute, was now weakening, fading as if a light was slowly being dimmed.

It felt like she was trying to push a crushing boulder off herself or desperately clawing for the surface of the water while being dragged down by an anchor. She gritted her teeth and concentrated, pushing even harder against her captor’s hold over her.

The mental battle was like an invisible tug of war. Except the rope was her body, and Rox was the opponent. This was all just a matter of whose will was stronger in the end.

Almost… there!

“Agh!” A loud, pained groan echoed from a few aisles away. Jordana smiled, now filled with a surge of triumph as she heard the telltale sign of Rox’s diminishing strength.

With one final push, Jordana broke through Rox’s control.

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.

Chapter Text

Rox turned the knob and yanked the door open. Standing in front of her were two wolf warriors. One nervously rotated a water bottle in his paw, while the other fidgeted with their sleeve cuffs.

“What do you two want?” she asked unwelcomely. Past their beefy forms, she spotted Nokt, lifting his straw hat and wiping beads of sweat off his forehead. He held a half-empty water bottle, no doubt depleted due to his rigorous sparring.

She smiled upon seeing her brother’s return.

A smile flickered on Nokt’s face before quickly turning into a scowl, followed by a glare that was directed at his unwanted escorts.

Rox suspected— no, she knew for certain that the wolves were here under Ras’s orders.

As if having that control device attached to him wasn’t bad enough, Nokt was now being treated as a prisoner in his own home. To top it all off, the once loyal wolves were no longer his servants but instead his jailers.

Nokt leaned forward, his hands now clenching into fists. The wolves flinched and took a step back.

A smirk crept onto Rox’s lips; a mixture of amusement and approval danced in her eyes as she watched her brother's display of intimidation. It echoed the countless instances where the Five once asserted their dominance and power over all the lesser beings of their realm.

She could still hear the innocent villagers screaming in terror and see the defiant stares of the tribe leaders quickly dissolving into subservience as they pledged their fealty to the Five.

Then there were the elemental masters, the supposed protectors of their homelands, rendered powerless and reduced to nothing. Oh, how she savored their defeat before forcing them to watch as the cities and villages that they had sworn to protect burned before their very eyes.

But even their suffering was never enough for her. She twisted the knife by mocking the fallen masters for their failures to protect their tribes, their people, and their families. Just to rub salt into the wound and further humiliate them, she would make them bow before her and kiss her feet.  

Ah, those were the days, she thought.

Rox eyed the water bottle still clutched in the guard’s hand and unconsciously licked her chapped lips.

Something shifted within her, a primal urge for survival that she hadn’t experienced in ages, now awakened in her. She was so used to the absence of water, of never needing to drink anything. She had forgotten its cool, refreshing taste and the feeling of it quenching her thirst. Her throat felt like it was burning, and her mouth was bone dry. She needed the water now to alleviate her dehydrated body.

Lurching forward, she snatched the bottle out of the wolf’s trembling hand.

“Get out of our sight,” Nokt growled.

The wolves quickly bowed, their movements almost comical in their frantic haste, before scurrying down the hallway.  

“Traitors,” Nokt grumbled, his eyes following their purple forms until they dissolved into the dimness of the corridor. He then entered his room and shut the door behind him.

“Ras’s treachery has run deep within our forces. We cannot trust any of them,” he huffed, tossing his bottle to the bed with more force than necessary.

“All the more reason to be careful. But I wouldn’t worry about it,” Rox replied nonchalantly, giving him an insouciant shrug. The loss of their clan was about as concerning to her as misplacing a teacup. It was nothing to worry about in the least bit. After all, she and the Five never trusted their allies, servants, and armies. Every time, when their forces became redundant, they always betrayed them. They simply could not trust anyone outside of their siblinghood.

“We may have lost our army, but we can just as easily gain a new one. And we will,” she assured with a smile.

“Yes, soon. Very soon,” Nokt agreed vigorously, his eyes gleaming with dark anticipation.

Rox looked down at the bottle in her hand and attempted to remove the cap by pulling it off, but it wouldn’t budge, denying her the water she needed. She tried tugging on it again, harder this time, but it remained stubbornly sealed. With a frustrated grunt, she banged the container against the wall. Still, the cap remained on.

It was as if the bottle didn’t even want to be drunk out of. If simple kitchenware was this problematic, Rox was afraid to find out what other changes occurred over the centuries.

“Need help?” Nokt offered with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I can’t get this blasted thing off,” she huffed, handing the bottle to him with a sigh. She watched as he effortlessly unscrewed the cap for her.

“I had the same problem earlier,” he said, giving her a wry smile, before handing it back to her.

She brought the bottle to her cracked lips and drank, savoring the cold water. A welcome mixture of relief and vitality filled her body, chasing away the lingering fatigue and quenching the burning thirst that had gnawed at her.

Nokt took another sip from his bottle, savoring the water and making it last. Meanwhile, Rox greedily downed the rest of her water until it was empty.

“Someone’s thirsty,” Nokt said with a chuckle. 

“And hungry. No, that’s an understatement. I am dreadfully starving!” Rox groaned, followed by a rumbling sound that emanated from her stomach.

“Well, a millennium without food will do that to you,” he said dryly.

“Way to state the obvious,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“If you could eat anything, what would it be?” Nokt asked.

“Bison. Oh, I can almost taste it,” Rox said, her eyes glazing over as she conjured the image of a roasted bison haunch. The gamy flavor and the hint of sweetness returned to her mind, and it was enough to make her mouth water.

“I would kill for a wild boar,” Nokt said, his voice filled with a similar longing. He could still remember the rich, nutty flavor and the unique, juicy succulence of the meat.

“Me too,” Rox agreed, her gaze drifting off into the distance. The two were now lost in the cascading memories of the thrilling hunts for their prey and the satisfying killing blows they dealt, before savoring every bite of their well-earned dinner.

“The female boars always tasted the best,” Nokt murmured dreamily.

“All this talk of food is making me hungry. Why don’t we head down to the pantry so we can… no, we can’t. All our food must surely be expired by now. Either that, or the wolves ate everything down there.”

“Well, we won’t be hungry for much longer. I heard Ras ordering them to hunt for animals in the forests. They’ll be back with something soon,” Nokt said.

“Good, because I am working up a mean appetite,” Rox said, her hand tightening on her abdomen.

“Now, onto more pressing matters. Have y—” Nokt paused, his brows furrowed and his nostrils flared, as he now caught the faint scent of blood in the air.

His hands gripped Rox’s shoulders tightly.

“Did something happen while I was away?” he asked in a low, urgent voice.

A grimace pulled at the corners of Rox's mouth. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice tight with suppressed anger. With a snap, she crushed the empty bottle in her hand before dropping it. “I was punishing my host, who so foolishly took control of her body and used it to try and find Ras.”

Nokt’s eyes went wide. “Rox! I thought you—”

Rox raised a hand, silencing him. “Fret not, brother! I’ve already taken care of it. For now, we won’t have to worry about her,” she assured him.

But the doubt in Nokt’s expression didn’t fade. If anything, it only grew by the second. Clearly, and rightly so, he was still unconvinced by her words.

How Rox lost control over her body was beyond him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. In fact, as far as he could recall, this had never happened before until now. He now had a sinking feeling that her host may be a potential liability to their plan. Still, he kept faith in his sister that she would keep a tight hold over her current body.

Nokt gave her a reproachful look and poked her sharply in the chest. “You need to be more careful! We cannot let her reveal our plan,” he scolded.

Rox shook her head and waved a hand dismissively. “And she won’t. She’s just a weak child. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she said in a confident tone, bordering on arrogance.   

Nokt scowled at his sister, seeing that she was treating this matter frivolously. “That ‘child’ broke free of your control!” he exclaimed with exasperation.

“Should she ever emerge, I’m quite confident that you’ll know I’m not actually present in this body,” Rox said.

“And if I don’t?” Nokt asked cautiously. Their entire plan hinged on Rox maintaining control over her body and keeping her host at bay. He could not do this alone.

“Then, ask me something that only I would know,” Rox calmly advised. “Ask me where I’ve been. Make me talk, and you’ll know whether it’s me or not.” She had no doubt that Nokt could differentiate herself from Jordana, especially through the cold, curt tone that she spoke with.

“Very well. Now, tell me, how fares your search?” Nokt asked in a lighter tone, now focused on their primary goal.

“It’s already at an end, and I have good news! I’ve found another way!” Rox exulted, beaming up.

Nokt smiled proudly and patted her on the back. He knew without a doubt that his sister would find a method to reach the void. “Excellent! So, where do we begin?”

“I thought you’d never ask. The answer lies in the Cloud Kingdom,” she answered.

“Very good. Now come, we leave at once!” he exclaimed, his impatience now surging forth. He was already making his way to the door, eager to begin their journey to the realm.

But Rox stepped in front of him and raised her hands, halting him in his tracks.

“Don’t you know by now that rushing only leads to failure? We don’t even know how to get there,” she chided, smiling in amusement at her brother’s impetuousness.

“What on earth are you talking about? Of course we do. Just use your crystal ball and guide us there,” Nokt countered, crossing his arms.

Rox put a hand up on her forehead and sighed in exasperation. “Oh, brother. Surely you know that we can’t just walk there, right?”

“Perhaps your body is unfit to do so, but I can. What’s the matter? Do you need me to carry you all the way over there?” He teased with a simper.

She pouted before giving him a scowl. “No, I am fully capable of walking with this body, thank you very much!”

Nokt raised a brow, his expression filled with playful skepticism. “Are you sure?” he prodded.

Rox rolled her eyes and let out a light chuckle. “Oh, stop it! But I really meant it. Traveling there on foot is not an option,” she reiterated, her voice now dropping to a serious tone.

“Whyever not? How else do you expect us to get there?” Nokt asked.

Rox let out a strained laugh. “Because Cloud Kingdom is in the sky, you dunce! Hence, the name. Or is your memory that dull?”

Nokt blinked a couple of times before her words sank in. “Oh. That certainly presents a problem. Forgive me, but it’s been years since I’ve studied the realms of creation. I must have forgotten that one.”

“Think nothing of it. But we must come up with a way to get there, and fast. If only Drix were here to help us,” Rox groaned. “He’d fly there in a heartbeat.”

Upon hearing her words, Nokt’s head shot up. “Brilliant idea, sister. We’ll fly there!” he proposed.

Rox raised a brow at him. “And just how exactly are we going to do that?” she asked skeptically.

“We’ll search until we find some dragons, and with our magic, they’ll have no choice but to do our bidding. Then, we will use them to fly to the Cloud Kingdom,” Nokt suggested.

Rox shook her head in disapproval of her brother’s idea. “I’m afraid that won’t work. We would be gone for too long, and Ras would eventually suspect something. We need a faster method to get there. Plus, the dragons would attract too much attention and alert the cloud monks.”

“Good point. What if you used your magic to fly all the way over there?”

Rox retrieved her crystal ball and peered into it with the intent of locating the realm. After a moment of concentration, she huffed in frustration. “I could, but it’s too far away. It would take days to reach.”

“Well, you better be coming up with some ideas because I’m running out of them,” Nokt said, his patience wearing thin.

“Hmm. Let me think,” Rox muttered, pursing her lips and putting a hand to her chin. “How… just how in the blazes would we— aha!” she suddenly exclaimed.

“You have something?” Nokt asked.

She gave him a broad smile. “Trust me, this is going to be a cakewalk,” she said, her voice brimming with confidence.

“Well, let’s hear it,” he said eagerly, leaning forward.

“Because all the realms are now merged, it’s much easier to access them. So, all I need to do is create a portal to Cloud Kingdom. I just need to gather all the components first.”

“Will it work?”

Rox gave him a short, patronizing laugh. “Does a sorceress use magic? Why, of course it’ll work.”

Despite being trapped for thousands of years, the Five refused to let their strength and skills deteriorate. They could not afford to be weak and out of practice. Nokt preserved his physical strength and combat prowess. Meanwhile, Rox sharpened her skills and maintained her mastery in magic. She had no doubt whatsoever in her abilities.

“So, where do we find them?” Nokt asked.

“My best guess is that they’re in my quarters,” Rox answered. “That, or my pocket dimension.”

That settled it. The two siblings rushed down the passage, past Zarkt’s quarters, before stopping at the next room.

Rox entered first, her eyes scanning her room before landing on the old, tall shelf that housed her magical trove. With an elegant gesture of her hands, she slowly rose from the stone floor and floated upwards. She moved through the air until she reached the peak of the highest shelf. Then, she began to meticulously search through the ornate containers and examine the dusty labels to find the thing she needed.

“So, how did your sparring session go with Cinder?” Rox started, just to fill the silence as she rummaged through her collection of potions.

“How do you think it went?” Nokt replied with a self-satisfied smile, thinking back to the ‘spar’ he had with Cinder. Everyone in the clan was an enemy, and no one except his sister was an ally. So naturally, he perceived his training session as a fight to the death and didn’t hold back against his opponent. That was, until Ras put him in his place with a controlled shock.

A knowing chuckle escaped Rox’s lips. “I take it you handed him his backside, then?” Whether it be a friendly spar, a real fight, or a raging battle, she found it difficult, almost impossible to picture her brother being bested by anyone.

Well, apart from me, she thought, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She could take him on any day, even with this unfavorable body.

“That, along with some bruises,” Nokt added. “He’s young and competitive, but quite unskilled, compared to us.”

“Sounds just like my host. Well, I’m sure when we enter the tournament, we’ll face even greater foes there,” Rox declared, her voice brimming with excitement.

Nokt raised a brow at her. “We?”

“Yes, we! Together, we’re going to crush all the elemental masters!” Rox exclaimed.

Nokt gave her a frown. “I’m afraid you’ll be sitting out on this one, sister. Only elemental masters can compete there. Plus, look at the body you’re in.”

For a moment, Rox nearly forgot she was inhabiting this vessel. Catching her slip-up, she let out a titter. “Oh, right. Well, I suppose participating in the tournament would make me rather conspicuous.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed her features. As much as she wanted to fight in the tournament and sate her bloodlust, she knew she couldn’t risk attracting any unwanted attention. She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and she had to remain this way until their mission was complete.

She examined a container filled with red, glowing liquid. Popping the lid off, her eyes lit up in recognition as the scent of dragon blood hit her nostrils.

“Be very careful with this,” Rox said with heavy emphasis. She slowly led the container down to Nokt. Then, she descended to the second shelf and began searching through the scrolls for the necessary incantation.

There were scrolls that contained the very first spells she had learned in the forbidden arts, ones that she remembered all too well. There were some that could be used to transmogrify matter or living beings into whatever the user wished. There were even ones that could allow users to harness the very elements of nature and create weapons from nothing.

“Found it,” Rox announced, holding a Theroxian scroll. She then landed on her feet with a soft thud.

Nokt handed the container to her. She silently read the incantation three times to herself, and once she memorized it, she rolled up the scroll and returned it back to the shelf.

“Something just occurred to me,” Nokt said.

“What?” Rox asked.

“Once we find the answer we seek, we won’t have to return to this place. There’s nothing keeping us here, so we might as well leave when we’re done,” Nokt said.

Rox nodded readily. The sooner they left the Shadow Dojo, the better for them. Plus, she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her brother being tormented again by Ras. “That’s true,” she agreed. “We’ll be long gone by the time Ras discovers we’re no longer here.”

She rubbed her stomach, and a small frown creased her brows. Even in the midst of their mission, she couldn’t help but be distracted by the persistent pangs of hunger. “Still, I would have liked something to eat.”

“We’ve been trapped for millennia. I think we can wait a little longer,” Nokt said.

“My stomach begs to differ,” Rox muttered, earning a slight eye roll from her brother. “Oh, before I forget…”

She went to the door and cast a locking spell, ensuring their privacy. She couldn’t risk anyone disturbing them at this crucial stage. Secrecy was paramount.

She then made her way back to the center of the room and uncorked the container. With deliberate care, she slowly poured the blood onto the wooden ground, forming a perfectly shaped crimson circle in front of her.  

She then took out the magical orb and gazed deeply into its swirling depths, setting her intent and visualizing the Cloud Kingdom’s archives. A moment later, her desired location appeared in the crystal. After observing the archive, she found it to be uninhabited. Now was the perfect time to initiate their infiltration.

“There’s no sign of anyone. We won’t be met with any resistance,” she said.

“Good. We already have enough on our hands,” Nokt said.

Rox drew in a deep breath and summoned her Theroxian magic. She extended her hand, palm down, just above the crimson circle and channeled her magic into it. Then, she began to recite the incantation, the ancient words rolling off her tongue with ease and poise.

Scarlet runes began to materialize within the circle of blood. At first, they were faint, but with each syllable, their glow slowly intensified. With her other hand, she placed it upon the crystal ball, channeling her magic into it. The orb now glowed with a dark shade of red. As more energy was poured into the spell, the runes blazed with light, and the air began to crackle with building energy.

Then, a single red spark ignited in the air just above the circle. The blood began to steam and boil unnaturally, sending wisps of smoke up in the air. She glanced into the crystal and saw the same red spark form in the archives.

She concentrated more of her intent into the spell, and the circle of blood glowed with dark energy. Right after she uttered the final syllable, a blinding flash of light filled the room, and she instinctively shielded her eyes. When her vision cleared, the blood-stained circle was gone, replaced by a swirling, crimson vortex.

The two siblings entered the portal and set foot in the archives. They surveyed their newfound surroundings of the towering shelves, stacked high with countless ancient scrolls.

“Writers of destiny? More like hoarders of destiny,” Rox uttered with disdain, her voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber. "Look at all this knowledge. You think they’d share it freely with the other realms, but instead, they just keep it locked away for themselves. Such selfish vermin.”

 “Are we going to have to search through all of this?” Nokt asked, his gaze sweeping across the seemingly endless rows of shelves.

“No, we just need to find—”

Rox’s words died in her throat. Something, a flicker of movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Then, to her left, more movement. A few scrolls dislodged from their resting place and dropped to the floor.

Then, blurs of blue began to fly in the air, darting from shelf to shelf. Multiple worms, each about the size of small snakes, dropped from the ceiling and gathered in amass in front of the two siblings. The scroll worms, disturbed by their intrusion, bared their mandibles and clicked them.

“Intruders!” The worms chanted.

Nokt stomped his foot, readying his Shatterspin. “And here I thought this would go smoothly,” he grumbled.

Rox, however, took a step forward and brought out her crystal ball. “Save your energy. I’ll take care of this.”

The worms reared back defensively, their mandibles clicking faster, and their blue bodies tensed like coiled springs. They opened their mouths, revealing their rows of sharp teeth, ready to spew their streams of thick webbing.    

But Rox wouldn’t allow it. Her eyes glowed a deep crimson, and with a flick of her wrist, she unleashed the static spell on the worms, rendering them immobile. Their mouths remained ajar, and their webbings floated in the air.

“I’ll stand guard, just in case,” Nokt said, moving towards the staircase leading to the higher levels of the archives.

Rox nodded, then turned back to the paralyzed group of worms. Another spell flowed from her fingertips, and the red tendrils of magic seeped into the worms’ minds. They shuddered and groaned, their bodies contorting slightly as the magic burrowed into their minds, compelling them to obey her without question.

Then, she released her hold over the worms, allowing them to move freely once more.

“Input search request,” a worm said in a flat, mechanical monotone.

“How do we create a gateway to the Netherspace?” Rox asked.

The worms leaped and slithered back to the shelves, working in unison to find the information Rox sought with surprising speed and efficiency. Once the process was complete, one of the worms crawled back to her.  

“Information obtained. To create a gateway to Netherspace, you will need to perform a blood moon ritual—”

A frustrated sigh escaped her. “That’s not an option anymore. We don’t plan on waiting for another millennium. How else can we access Netherspace?”

“You will need to accumulate an abundance of elemental powers and dragon ivory,” the worm answered.

“If I’m not mistaken, the crowns of the Arc dragons are made of ivory. How many do we need to open the gateway?”

“Three.”

The two siblings were now one step closer to freeing the rest of the Five. All they needed to do now was slay three Arc dragons. As for gaining a multitude of elemental powers, it seemed that fate had conveniently presented them with the perfect opportunity to do so.

“Thank you for your service,” Rox said with a satisfied smile. A ripple of red energy washed over the worms, causing them to glow for a moment, then their bodies went limp, collapsing to the floor in a deep, dreamless sleep. The memories of the encounter with the siblings were wiped completely clean from their minds.

“We have what we came for. Time to go,” Rox said beckoning her brother to follow her. She turned and stepped back into the portal, with Nokt following close behind.

Once the two returned to the Shadow Dojo, she closed the gateway.

“We’re so close!” Rox exclaimed with a smile.

“Indeed, we are,” Nokt nodded with a toothy grin. His eyes, normally cold, were now filled with a rare warmth that she hadn’t seen in ages.

Then, a shadow passed over Rox’s face. Her smile vanished as swiftly as it had appeared. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to tolerate being with Ras for a little while longer.”

Nokt shrugged at her. “A small price to pay. But in the end, it will all be worth it,” he murmured.

She couldn’t help but glance at the contraption on the back of his head, a constant reminder of his forced servitude and hindrance.

Nokt could see the concern in her eyes and the way her jaw tightened with contained anger.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“We need to get this thing off you. Hold still,” Rox said.

With as much hand strength as this borrowed body could provide, she latched onto the device, her knuckles whitening as she strained. She tried everything from pulling and twisting to even a few spells, but it didn’t even budge an inch.

Her shoulders slumped and she let out a pent-up breath of frustration. If only there was a way to remove it.

“It’s alright. For now, I’ll just have to—”

“No, it’s not alright!” Rox shouted, her fists now trembling. “This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“That, among many other things, yet here we are,” Nokt said calmly.

“You shouldn’t be restrained by a lesser being. A tiger of all people, that isn’t even half the warrior you are! What if this device causes you to lose in the tournament?” Rox asked with a hint of worry.

Failure was not an option. To lose in the tournament would mean losing their chance to free the Five, and he couldn’t accept that. Nokt vowed to defeat any foe he faced. In his eyes, this viewed this as no mere competition, but a war. A war for the freedom of his siblings.

He put a hand on her shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort. “It won’t. I promise you, I will not lose,” he assured. “Don’t worry about me, sister. I’ve endured far worse than just electrocution.”

“I know. But if he does that again, can I please kill him?” Rox asked, her voice dropping into a dangerous whisper.

Nokt gave her a disapproving look and shook his head. He hated Ras as much as Rox did, if not more. But their intentions had to remain concealed and killing him would only backfire on them.

“Not if you want our plan to work. As much as I hate to admit it, we need Ras so we can enter the tournament. Remember what’s at stake,” Nokt reminded. “Right now, we must maintain focus with the task at hand.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Rox sighed, her anger slowly receding. This wasn’t out of loyalty. Ras was not and would never be their master. This was simply out of necessity for their goal, nothing more. To them, he was unworthy of being called a master. Not when he was a servant to someone else. “We must claim the ivory crowns before the tournament starts. Assuming the Arc dragons still live in their ancestral homes, finding them will be easy.”

“We’ll have to hide the crowns somewhere safe, where no one would ever think to look. Someplace close, where we can easily access them, once we acquire all the elemental powers,” Nokt said.

“Let’s see,” Rox mused, surveying the City of Temples with the orb.

Retro-futuristic architecture blended seamlessly with ancient, ornate stonework. This place has certainly changed over the centuries. No longer were torches lit. Now, strange light fixtures lit up the city, and giant screens displayed recordings of moving images. Clearly placing the crowns within the city would eventually warrant someone discovering them. They had to store them somewhere secluded and secret from their foes.

With his inquisitive eyes, Nokt spotted a large structure on the outskirts of the city.

“Stop! Go back. Do you see that?” he asked, pointing at the image.

“Ah, the Monastery of Gates!” Rox exclaimed with recognition. “Excellent idea, brother! No doubt, it will be vacant with everyone gathered in the city. That’s where we should put the horns. Now then, shall we?”

“Before we begin our hunt, we really should eat something first to keep our strength up,” Nokt suggested. “I for one, don’t plan on fighting three Arc dragons on an empty stomach.”

“That would be wise,” Rox said, giving him an enthusiastic nod.

The pair exited the room and walked down the hallway. Their minds swam with thoughts of the Five, reveling in their freedom together before continuing their barbaric dominance.

The siblings’ baleful laughs echoed through the hall, a chilling promise of the Five’s forthcoming liberation. They were not mere pawns in Ras’s games or tangled in strings like puppets. They refused to answer to the whims of destiny, for they scoffed at the dictates of fate. In their eyes, the Forbidden Five viewed themselves as the highest power. The fiercest warriors to ever set foot in this world. Unstoppable and unyielding, with terrible power and ferocity, they perceived themselves as the true masters of all things that decided the fate of everyone and everything. Of who lives and who dies.

Nothing, not even the deepest, darkest prison in existence could contain them. Long ago, they burned away their weakness and let their pain mold them. They let themselves die and were reborn into something greater. Strength emerged, and they achieved true power in this world. They were finally free from everything and became agents of chaos and destruction. 

Soon, the day of judgement will finally arrive; the roars of righteous fury and the raging storms will harbinger the return of the avatar of chaos. The eater of souls shall walk among the earth once more and cast dread upon everyone and everything. The power held within the giant of extermination will punish all life, and his wrathful vengeance will be swift.

All will have no choice but to submit to the Five’s absolute rule or be destroyed. With no one left to stop them, their reign over the merged realms would last forever. It was all just a matter of time before their grand design inevitably unfolded.

Patience in the shadows shall breed their triumph, and the Five have waited for millennia. They were willing to wait a little longer before the day of their glorious return to the earth.

Chapter Text

The sorceress stepped through the iron doors of the armory. With a clap of her hands, the unlit torches mounted on the walls sprang to life and chased away the darkness. Blue flames illuminated the room, revealing a vast collection hailing from a bygone era.

The walls were lined with numerous suits of armor in different sizes, all remarkably well preserved throughout the ages. Rox felt a surge of pride, seeing that her flawless creations retained their pristine condition after all this time. They didn’t even look like they had aged a day. 

Standing opposite the armor row, large racks held an assortment of weapons. Swords of varying lengths hung side by side on the walls. Barrels overflowed with spears and axes, both single and double-headed. Their metallic surfaces gleamed faintly in the blue light.

At the far end of the room was her workstation, battered and timeworn, a poignant reminder of her long absence. It was as old, if not older than her. Uncountable years had passed, yet the heart of her craft remained.

On a stone counter, she could still see the familiar, faint marks and scrapes of where she had once struck her hammer in her meltdowns. Back when she was a much younger, short-tempered wolf, prone to explosive outbursts when she failed to meet her exacting standards. For hours on end, she locked herself in her workshop and strived to make such flawless, intricate crafts. To make her visions of perfection become a reality.

She ran a hand down the disused, stone-cold forge. Thankfully, she could easily repair it with her magic. Next to it was an anvil, sitting atop a sturdy stump, and a bellows mounted on a wooden base.

Various tools, many of which were littered with dust and cobwebs, hung on wall-mounted metal hooks. Some materials were neatly arranged on her wooden workbench and rack, while others were left haphazardly on the counters and the stone floor. No doubt, the untidiness in her workshop was due to the dojo being transported, thanks to Ras’s master. She was always one to maintain her belongings in an organized, systematic manner.

Large, galvanized steel buckets that once held water and cooled searing hot metal parts took up plentiful amounts of space on the floor. To her left was a stone counter with some rolled-up scrolls containing blueprints and notes of her crafts. Some listed different weapon ideas and fantastical designs, while others had simple, frivolous sketches. She unraveled a few scrolls and began to read one, where she once had the idea of imbuing dark energy into weapons and shields. However, due to her limited comprehension of its power and limits, she abandoned the project.

One scroll depicted rings, necklaces, and many other jewelries. Rox always held a distaste for fashion and refused to embellish herself with such prissy things. Rarely would she ever create such opulent accessories unless it served as a way for her to weave deception. Such times were whenever she bribed and showered gifts as rewards to the allies of the Five in return for their aid. But of course, it was never out of the goodness in her heart, for she had none left in her. Instead, she viewed it as a way to motivate their loyalty towards the Five and fuel their lust for more. Fear, though her preferred method, was not the only way she knew how to control others.

Returning to her workshop after all this time brought about an unfamiliar wave of nostalgia. It was here, within these stone walls, where she dedicated her time and energy to crafting copious instruments of war. To her, it wasn’t mere labor but something more akin to a passionate hobby. She could still hear the rhythmic echo of her hammer clanging against steel, a familiar sound that always accompanied the armory.

Before, the room would be filled with the familiar smell of burning coal. The intense heat radiating from the forge fires was a welcoming comfort to her on the cold nights. The soreness in her arms from carrying heavy metals and hammering away for hours always reminded her of the hard effort she put into her handiwork.

On the nights when sleep eluded her and she tossed and turned in her bed for hours, she snuck back to her workstation and occupied herself on unfinished projects or new creations. It was either there or one of the training rooms, specifically designed for practicing magic. The nocturnal hours took a toll on her. Often, she succumbed to exhaustion and rested her head on her anvil. Sometimes she dozed off for a few seconds or napped for hours in her workshop.

A small smile formed on her lips, recollecting the times when her siblings scolded her for waking them up in the middle of the night. The loud banging of her hammer against the metals echoed through the halls, and the acrid smell would interrupt their peaceful sleep. They always lambasted her for disturbing their rest and repeatedly reminded her to close the doors to keep the raucous and bitter smells out. Though she said she would remember to do so many a time, it slipped her mind while lost in her creative fervor, much to their irritation. 

Rox held a chisel in her hands and took a moment to admire the tool. It served her well when she perfectly carved the symbols on the wolf masks. She missed utilizing her skills to make such beautiful creations as she once did so long ago in the golden age of the Five.   

Rox then trailed a finger across the dull blade of a broadsword with a dragonhide hilt. Some of her personal favorite makings were those that she crafted with materials harvested from the very dragons she had slain, trophies of the fallen beasts, and vain reminders of her unchallenged power. But she didn’t come here for a weapon. Not like she needed one.

She unclasped her shoulder guard and set it aside on a nearby counter with a soft clink. Then, she removed her cuirass. Leaning down, she unstrapped her cuisses and greaves before walking over to the row of armor.

After donning a few suits, each feeling bulky and ill-fitting, she finally chose one that suited her form.

Her vessel was now adorned in dark grey armor with streaks of crimson that resembled dried blood and a pauldron with a blue claw covering one of her shoulders. Aesthetically and functionally, it was more to her liking. Compared to the light armor she wore previously, this one offered her much more protection. Plus, she preferred its design and color scheme. It was a veiled reflection of her true self. The grey matched her cold, constructed composure, which she wore as a mask to conceal her true nature, like rain clouds forming before a coming storm. The crimson markings, a symbol of her violent nature, and the path she always forged in blood; a promise of what was to come. Mere spars and fights with her siblings never satisfied her enough. She needed to spill blood and finally feel the rush of adrenaline in her veins after so long. Soon, she would have her fill.

Rox walked around, accustoming herself to the weight and feel of her new attire. It felt just right on her. Not too tight to restrict her movements and not too loose to be a hindrance in combat. Before she left the armory, she grabbed a pair of red gauntlets and fastened them on.

Sporting the armor with vanity, she headed to the training room with hands clasped demurely behind her back and a serene smile gracing her lips.

Upon entering, she saw Ras holding a rectangular device to his ear. For what purpose, she did not know. He was talking aloud for some inexplicable reason, almost as if he were addressing someone. But no one else was in the room except the two of them. She now began to wonder if the tiger was talking to himself.

Her jaw tightened, and her fists clenched, the red gauntlets digging into her palms. She shot daggers at Ras for the injustice he inflicted on her brother. From the moment she arrived in the room, she could have easily killed the unsuspecting tiger at least three times over and not even break a sweat. But she couldn’t. Not yet at least.

“Master,” she smoothly addressed, her voice dripping with false deference. She bowed shallowly before him, a gesture of mock respect, all the while laughing inwardly.

The only thing you’re a master of is being a servant, you asinine tiger. You think we’re pawns in your game, but you’ve got it all backwards!  

Ras, abruptly wrenched from his conversation, turned towards her with a deep frown, and his red eyes flickered with annoyance. “Can’t you see I’m on the phone?” he huffed before turning away and resuming his call at the other end of the line.

Rox furrowed her brows in confusion before shrugging to herself and keeping quiet. She began to buzz with curiosity and eyed the phone with interest. What was Ras even doing, talking to this strange contraption, she wondered.

Was this some new form of magic? An arcane artifact capable of communicating with other beings? Spirits from the afterlife, perhaps?

After a minute of listening, Rox realized that this device was allowing the tiger to talk to someone. She caught snippets of his conversation, including an individual named Blekt and something about not sending invitations to ‘them’. 

Back in her time, people sent up smoke signals from mountaintops and relied on trained birds to deliver messages. Now, people can talk to someone else from miles away through the usage of this thing called a phone. This would certainly take some time to get used to. The world has changed so much in her absence. But no matter how much time passed, the nature of all living beings remained the same. Everyone and everything was still weak and inferior compared to her and the Five.

“I don’t care how you do it, Blekt. Just honor your agreement, and I will honor mine,” Ras said, then hung up the phone and turned his attention towards Rox.

“What is it, Jordana?” he asked with subtle irritation.  

Rox hung her head, and her thin smile turned into a guilty grimace. She looked up at Ras, avoiding his gaze, and began to fidget with her gloves.

“I… I just—” she stammered.

“Speak!” Ras bellowed. 

Rox shrank away with a whimper and swallowed. “I— I feel I should apologize for my failure to keep the gate open,” she trembled out.

Ras approached Rox, his towering form looming over her.

“You should be sorry, you fool! The plan was to free all the Forbidden Five, not one!” he angrily berated.

Rox flinched back and dropped her head again. Her eyes began to water, blurring her vision. She blinked rapidly, then met the tiger’s scorching gaze, her expression a carefully crafted mixture of sadness and contrition. “Please, forgive me. I did everything within my power to free them,” she tremulously choked out with a brittle voice. Just to add a cherry on top, she let a few fake tears fall down her face, painting the perfect picture of a devoted servant who failed to appease her master.

“I will forgive you this one time, but no more after that,” Ras growled, his voice rumbling with frustration and disappointment. “Perhaps you can still redeem yourself for your failure. I may have a use for you.”

Rox’s lips twitched upwards slightly. She was dealing with a brutish simpleton, a creature whose strength only lay in his physicality. His intellect, however, was quite unimpressive. She recognized that he couldn’t possibly conceive of betrayal, only failure; a weakness she would exploit to her heart’s content. He was so predictable, making it child’s play for her to sneak under his skin.

Rox wiped away the crocodile tears with her sleeve before asking in a steadier voice, “Who were you talking to just a moment ago?”

“The uncle of the games master,” Ras answered. “With his help, the ninja won’t be able to interfere with the next phase of the plan.”

“And how do you intend to do that?” she pressed, eager to glean every detail of his schemes.

“Let’s just say that their invitations to the tournament will be misplaced. Permanently.”

Rox let out a short, light chuckle. “Do you really think that’s going to stop them from trying to participate?”

“No. I already took that into account. Thanks to you, we don’t have enough Shatterspin warriors for the tournament, which is why I’m going to recruit more elemental masters on our side. This way, our victory will be ensured.”

This may present an opportunity for us…

Rox tilted her head, and her eyes flashed with interest. “Once again, I apologize for my failure, master. When are you leaving?”

“Tonight,” he answered. “Depending on how long this takes, I may be gone for a few days. Perhaps more.”   

A smirk curled up on her lips. This was it. They would strike while the iron was hot.  

“While I’m gone, I need you to keep watch over Nokt. I can’t have him roaming around freely. He must remain here, no matter what.”

My, oh my, this is just too perfect!

Rox dropped to her knees and bowed deeply before the tiger, her forehead pressing against the stone floor. Hidden from the tiger’s piercing gaze, a devious smirk formed on her lips.

“Oh, I would be gladly honored to do this for you, Lord Ras,” she purred with feigned subservience. “Rest assured; he won’t be going anywhere on my watch.”

“Good. Thank you, Jordana,” Ras said in a pleased tone.

Rox stood up from the ground. “Of course, master. Anything for you. But I’m just curious, why aren’t you entrusting this task to Cinder?”

“Because after today’s training session, it’s quite clear to me that they’re not going to get along anytime soon. And with you in his quarters earlier, it seems that he’s able to tolerate your presence.”

“Well, your judgement has always been considered sound to me. That, along with your teachings. Thanks to you, I’ve learned so much. I truly couldn’t ask for a better master than you,” she fawned with a saccharine smile.

Ras let out a satisfied hum. For a moment, Rox thought she saw a small smile form on his lips, a fleeting glimpse of the ego she had just stoked. “And I couldn’t have asked for a more faithful servant.”

Rox gave him a swift bow before she turned on her heel and left the training room. As she walked away, a malicious grin grew on her face.

Soon… Very soon, you will see just how faithful I am when we crush the life out of you!

Fortune continued to smile upon them. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that her and Nokt had the devil’s luck, neither of which she believed in. Either that, or someone was watching over them. But Rox was a pragmatist, not a believer of any sort in divine beings or interventions. They were not given a blessing by the Source Dragons, that was a certainty.

Everyone always depicted them as immortal and invincible beings, but that couldn’t be any further from the truth. Where were the Source Dragons when the Five ruled over the Wyldness with an iron fist? Where were they when the cowardly, mewling denizens fled, when their beautiful cities were sieged, and their lands were laid to waste? Nowhere. Abandoning the mortals as usual. In their time of need, they turned to the Source Dragons, hoping that they brought salvation. But of course, they never came, leaving the mortals to their doom. In Rox’s eyes, they were false gods. The only thing that came close to being a deity of sorts to her was the primeval of chaos of the first age. As a cub, she was enthralled by the legends and stories of the mighty dragon’s glorious wars, achievements, and aspirations.

In their times of tribulation and misery, when the Five were gripped by the chilling specter of perpetual purgatory and the doubts of their freedom never coming to pass, they turned to the verses of the dark one’s majesty. They intoned the odes of his ascent to power, recounted the songs and ballads of his glorious chaotic dominion, and proclaimed his hallowed names with fervent tongues. With each recitation, their courage was fortified, their sinews steeled, their strength empowered, and their faith restored. To this day, they all still remembered every lyric, every mantra, every sacred utterance, every word by heart.

Rox ambled along the drawn-out corridors, effortlessly navigating through the dojo. She had an intimate knowledge of the building’s structure, familiar with where each hallway, passage, doorway, and corner led to. Each fleeting moment marked the drawing nigh of the Five’s deliverance, and by their unending devotion, the gate shall soon be opened. Anticipation swelled within her, a tide, threatening to breach her dam of composure. She couldn’t help but let a mild smile hang loosely on her lips. An old, eerie tune began to echo through the long corridors, one that spoke of an ancient time and a dark, forgotten power. The haunting notes sent shivers up the spines of the wolf warriors that she passed. Upon recognizing the unsettling Theroxian ballad, their furs bristled. Some stepped aside, making plenty of space for her to pass by.

As Rox continued to softly recite the melody, she envisioned vile fantasies of the brutal methods the Five would use to end Ras. Since Nokt hated him the most, it would be fitting for him to deliver the coup de grâce. Perhaps her brother would beat Ras to a pulp with such brute force behind his punches, leaving him a broken, unrecognizable mess. Or maybe Kur could give the tiger an agonizingly slow death, where he felt the life slowly leave him until there was nothing left but darkness. Rox always took great pleasure in watching Kur drain the life out of her victims like she was extracting water out of cacti.

With a wicked smile, even more delightful thoughts entered her mind. She pictured Drix’s swarms of insects stinging and biting the tiger mercilessly and eating him alive. A boisterous laugh, full of cruel glee, escaped from her and echoed down the hall. Now, that would be a sight to behold. She marveled at the thought of Zarkt, wielding a blunt instrument with such ferocity to pulverize the beast before grinding the bones to dust with his boots.

With the Five reunited, they shall bring the treacherous tiger to his knees and cast his blunt hammer into the smelter. When the beast grovels in the grandeur of the Five and begs for his life, the siblings will laugh with macabre enjoyment as they mock his cries for mercy and ravage the warrior’s burly body. For his foul deeds, the Five will reward him with equal generosity. After taking turns impaling Ras’s filthy corpse and feasting on his flesh, they shall hang his bones and fur up on the walls as trophies of their triumph.

Even in her moment of rejoice, Rox seethed, devising her retribution against the accursed wretch who installed the infernal device of torment on her brother. For her own personal satisfaction, she imagined delivering such excruciating pain on Ras as he did on her brother. A fitting punishment that the tiger deserved no less. Sentenced to a fate of torment with no release, he would scream for years and writhe in perpetual agony until he begged her for death. Locked in the dungeons with no hope of escape and no sweet release from the pain, his penance for his crimes will be unending till death arrives. But the pain will not be enough to satisfy her, for she always craved the sweetness of fear. She shall instill in him such terror that the very sight of her makes him cower and tremble before her and drink the wine of his delicious fear, savoring it to the last drop.

But no matter what fate the Five sentenced him to, it would not be pleasant.

Rox made her way outside of the dojo. She stepped out of the shadows and into the light. Upon feeling the warm rays of the sun on her face, a shuddered breath escaped her. In their prison, light was always absent, and there was only darkness. After an eternity of bleakness and coldness, she welcomed the sunlight that shone on her.

The distant sun was low in the sky, partially hidden behind a few clouds. She admired the bright blue sky and the white clouds. Some of them were thick, while others were wispy. The higher altitude clouds traveled fast through the sky, while the lower ones were calmer, slower moving. It felt so foreign yet distantly familiar to look up and see the sky instead of the monotone grey.

She cast her gaze down to the vast grasslands in front of the dojo and watched how the tall, thick blades gently swayed in the wind. The rippling motion was reminiscent of ocean waves. It wasn’t the grey, dull, geometric ground that she was so used to seeing all the time. Here, there was color, warmth, and life.

Rox tilted her head up, closed her eyes, and sighed contentedly, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the cool, gentle breeze kissing her skin. For the first time in endless years, she felt a sense of serenity. She could just stand here for hours, basking in the sun’s embrace. This was what she missed. What she longed for in the darkness of the void. To finally feel that life return to her.

Then, a familiar voice pulled her out of her pleasant daze. “I thought you’d be here sooner.” She turned around to see her brother, resting against the golden gong of shattering. “What took you so long, sister?”  

“Oh, I was doing a little of this, a little of that. Admiring my creations. Gaining insight from a certain someone,” Rox said, waggling her eyebrows, flashing her teeth in a juvenile grin.

Nokt nodded his head in understanding and chuckled under his breath. “Ah, of course. I should have known! Sly as a fox, as usual!”

“That’s me! So, how do I look?” Rox asked before outstretching her arms.

Nokt studied the meticulously crafted battle armor, his eyes lingering on every detail and dancing with approval. “Prepared. It suits you,” he complimented.

Rox settled next to her brother and whispered in his ear, “Soon, we begin.”

“And Ras?”  

“Leaving this evening to recruit more allies for the tournament,” she said wearily, before letting out a yawn.  

“Then that’s when we’ll make our move,” Nokt said.

“Now, if only we had something to eat,” Rox slurred with a frown. This meatsuit continued to insistently demand nourishment. A heavy wave of lethargy hit her, and she rested her head on Nokt’s broad shoulder. With drowsy, watery eyes, she watched the tall grass dance in the wind.

“This feels strangely… nice,” Rox murmured, her voice thick with a mixture of confusion and genuine appreciation. The feeling of emptiness that had seeped into her very being while imprisoned in the void was no more. There was warmth now. For the first time in so long, she finally saw the world again. She felt alive, not through violence, pain, chaos, or death, but through a beautiful view and a rare moment of peace with her brother.

“I… I don’t understand this. I can’t explain it, brother, but somehow, I missed this. All of this,” she confessed, joining a hand with his.

Nokt gave a slow, deliberate nod, sharing the same experience as her. “I know. Me too,” he said, agreeing with her sentiment.

Then, a flicker of motion at the edge of their vision caught their attention. Both simultaneously turned their heads to the dense forests that bordered the open field. From the shadows emerged familiar, purple figures. Slung over their shoulders were a few deer and a handful of rabbits. The meager haul spoke volumes. This land seemed to offer little in the way of sustenance. It was a far cry from the teeming abundance they were used to in the Wyldness.

After returning to the dojo, the wolf warriors wasted no time in preparing the animals. Some were already gathering utensils, chopping up wood, and building a fire. With sharp knives and daggers, they carefully cut through skin and flesh before opening the abdominal cavities. Blood and innards spilled onto the earth, and pungent odors quickly permeated the air. Then, the wolves began to flay the carcasses.

The field dressing was a familiar sight that the siblings had performed many times before. They yearned to feel the thrill of hunting prey once more. Ages ago, when their hunger stirred, they hunted wild animals and even humanoid creatures, whether it be dawn or dusk.

Whenever they hunted, they refused to use magic, Shatterspin, and their elemental powers to earn a meal. It was too easy for them and not as enjoyable. They chose to hunt together like full-blooded wolves. To mask their own scent from their prey, they rolled themselves around in strong odors, much to the disgust of their fellow comrades.  

First, the pair of wolves tracked their prey and used their keen senses of sound, smell, and eyesight to pinpoint where the animals were. Then, they stalked their prey and moved silently towards the animals, trying to get as close as possible.

Feral blue and orange eyes swirled with anticipation, watching and waiting patiently for their prey to make a mistake or show any signs of vulnerability. Sometimes, the two ambushed unsuspecting animals; a sudden, brutal strike from the shadows. Other times, they memorized the terrain and used it to their advantage. But often, they relentlessly pursued their prey for many miles until it became exhausted. Their tag-team approach always rewarded them. They never forgot the rush of exhilaration when they sank their teeth into warm flesh and acquired a well-earned meal to satisfy their hunger.

A wolf warrior approached the siblings and placed two steaming bowls before them, each containing chunks of tender venison smothered in a rich gravy. They held the bowls close to their weary faces and inhaled deeply, savoring the meaty aroma.

Nokt tossed aside the provided fork and devoured the meat with his hands. Rox followed suit and dug into her food with an equally ferocious appetite. The two ate like the wild animals they were, void of all civility. Eating with utensils was so painfully slow and utterly unappealing to them.

The earthy, rich taste of the venison exploded on their tongues. Adrift in their sea of need to fill their empty stomachs, the siblings tore at the meat with such ravenous hunger, abandoning all sense of decorum. After an eternity of deprivation, the simple experience of eating, the sheer life that surged back into their starved bodies with each bite – it was even more enjoyable than they could have ever imagined.

Then, they gave their jaws a break and wiped away the juices that trickled down their chins. As the gnawing pangs subsided, their sense of awareness returned. They now approached the food with mindful appreciation, taking smaller bites and more thoughtful chews. This was their first time eating something in eons, so the least they could do was try and enjoy it.  

After consuming the last morsel, a sense of satisfaction settled within them. The hunger was no more. Thanks to their delicious meal, their weariness was now replaced with a newfound reinvigoration. They sat in quiet contentment, patiently waiting for the wolves to retire into the dojo.

Once the siblings were finally alone, a silent understanding passed between them. With a shared glance and a single, decisive nod, they descended the stone steps before melting into the shadows of the woodland.

The cool wind blew through the boscage, coaxing the trees into a languid dance. Their branches, gnarled and wise, bent and creaked in rhythm. Leaves rustled, murmuring secrets to the breeze, their gentle susurrus touching their ears. The air, redolent of nature, carried a familiar blend of smells they had long forgotten. They both inhaled deeply, taking in the earthy scent of the trees and the sharp, refreshing aromas of pine and cedar. The forest was their usual habitat, a wild haven where they always thrived. Here, they need not worry about being overheard by the encroachers of their home, for they were now cradled in the embrace of the trees.

“At some point, the clan is going to notice that we’ve been gone. They may start to suspect something,” Nokt said, a flicker of worry shadowing his usually stoic features.

“So, what if they do? It doesn’t matter. I’ll just make them believe what I want them to believe,” Rox assured with a grin, her voice a silky promise of deception.

Nokt chuckled dryly. “Even after long centuries, I see you still possess your silver tongue,” he recognized, his gaze filled with pride.

Though they both relied on overwhelming strength and pure power to defeat their foes, Rox always possessed a gift for persuasion and enchantment. It was a talent that Nokt always admired about her. The rest of the Forbidden Five usually let Rox carry out negotiations, deals, and threats in their conquests. Fists, claws, and blades were not the only weapons she could use. Words were also powerful agents that could easily be used to her advantage. She possessed the brutality of a wolf and the craftiness of a fox.

“Indeed, I do. Now, more than ever, it’s proven useful, especially with Ras. The fool trusted me to watch over you,” Rox said with amusement and a hint of contempt at the tiger.

“Oh, I believe it. He probably thinks you’re his most loyal pawn.”

“That, he does. He is quite a dull tool.”

The pair meandered through the woods in comfortable silence. Then, the trees thinned, and the sunlight intensified into a blinding glare, making them shield their eyes. The world opened before them, and they found themselves standing at the edge of a bluff. They leaned abreast against a thick tree and watched in peaceful solitude as the sun sank below the horizon. The light gradually faded away, casting long, dancing shadows across the sprawling valley far below them. The sky was painted in an explosion of colors, a canvas of fiery orange bleeding into soft purple hues with streaks of crimson and gold interwoven.  

It was a breathtaking spectacle they hadn’t witnessed in lifetimes. The sheer splendor of the view stole their breath away. They sighed softly; the sunset and the vibrant colors evoked a sense of awe and profound gratitude in them. It made them wonder how many sunsets and sunrises the Five shared in the past, before their imprisonment. Did they ever take the time to simply appreciate the beauty of the world around them?

Though they tried to bury it, a pang of sadness resonated within their dark hearts. All the Five ever did was create wars and sow chaos, driven by their insatiable hunger for power, but rarely did they ever cherish the serene moments that the world so freely offered. The infinite, empty time that they had endured in the void paled in comparison to this one singular moment that they shared together. Their forced immortality in their accursed prison was a monotonous existence, devoid of meaning and purpose. It drove them to the brink of madness. But now, they were here in the living world with a newfound appreciation for all the simple things they had once undervalued. If only the rest of their siblings were here to share this beautiful moment and remember what it meant to truly be. To live. Perhaps, after their liberation, they could all share a sunset together before continuing with their conquest.

“I wish the others could see this,” Rox murmured wistfully, now already missing the rest of her siblings.

Nokt wrapped an arm around Rox’s shoulders and brought her closer to his side. “They will. We’re going to get them out, no matter what,” he promised with unwavering determination. 

They watched as dusk approached and the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The air suddenly became cooler, and the breeze died down.

The calm that the two siblings shared was over. Now, the storm approached. They stood up and retraced their steps back to the meadows. After reaching the clearing, they looked back at the dojo to see Ras floating upwards and communicating with his master. Hidden in the shadows of the encroaching night, they watched patiently, until they saw him disappear in a sudden, bright flash of yellow and white.

The siblings exchanged a sharp, feral grin, and their eyes burned with predatory anticipation. With Ras gone and the rest of the clan in a blissful sleep of ignorance, no one would notice their absence. Now, it was time. They could finally commence their clandestine operation.

The two wolves began their hunt. Their silhouettes, visible against the fading sunlight, began to dissolve as they descended into the darkness.