Bound and Broken: An Isekai Adventure Dark Fantasy (Melas Book 1) by V.A. Lewis (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

probably thought I hated them now, but I did not. Not Shang, or Rin, or any of the Beastkin. I was grateful for what they did for me; I was just a little afraid of what they were capable of.

When they were done conversing with Theodore, Shang and Rin broke off to guide the others, while the older man approached me. I slowly looked up to face Theodore. The middle aged man reached out, and offered me a hand. There were no words exchanged— not just yet.

He helped me up, and steadied me as I got a hold of myself. I bowed my head at him, thanking him, and he smiled back. He simply met my gaze.

It was then I remembered the mark on my face; the symbol of the Mancis Company, claiming me as theirs. I remembered how he flinched when he saw it, and felt like covering it up.

But Theodore did not look away. He just looked at me, and finally he spoke.

"Let’s go."

I stared at him dumbly, meeting his face that showed not a hint of fear; it was only when we left the room, did I realize he had spoken.

His words were short. Succinct. Something to just fill the air, and ease into a proper conversation for later. And it worked.

As we emerged from the stairway, out into the dimly lit corridor, Theodore spoke again.

"When we first met, I thought you reminded me of my daughter. I told you that, didn’t I?" The middle aged man’s grip tightened around my hand at the mention of his daughter. He took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. "But now, I think you remind me more of myself." He chuckled slightly.

I stared fixedly at Theodore, as we continued on our path. We turned a corner as he glanced heavenward at the ceiling, as if in thought.

"Well, a younger, less-wrinkly, version of me," he added in lightly.

I snorted. It was not even a good joke; in fact, it was a terrible one. Just as bad as any dad-joke my dad would tell me!

And perhaps that’s what made it so funny. A sense of normalcy; not even like banter with its jabs at another person. Just something lighthearted and simple.

His voice then turned more serious, and his smile was replaced with a longing look.

"Over a month ago, you told me that you believed that it’s not been all bad. That there is a silver-lining to all this. Back then, I didn’t believe you." Theodore shook his head, and took a deep breath. "I didn’t believe that the Goddess would plan for any of this. It was all just so terrible."

I nearly froze at the mention of the Goddess. But I caught myself, and continued walking inconspicuously. The man continued.

"But now, I think I’m starting to understand a little bit of Her plan. I was not able to help my daughter or my wife." His face was morose. The death of his family was still haunting him. And yet, when he finally turned to face me, he spoke with a determination that I truly envied, "But maybe I could help you. Even just a little. Maybe that’s what the Goddess wants. For a pure soul such as you to not suffer."

I looked up at Theodore. At the middle aged man. And I felt his pain. Yet despite all that, he still could say this.

It felt wrong. The idea that he lost his family just so he could meet me— no, it was wrong.

But it gave him hope, a voice inside of me argued.

His faith in the Goddess— his belief that all his suffering was not for naught— it spoke to me. Perhaps… if I…

"It is like you said: the Goddess has a plan for us all," Theodore said, the words echoing in my head.

I wanted it. I wanted to have his hope. To cling on to something where I had none. He had faith in the Goddess so he could find light in his life. And so, out of desperation— and out of suffering— I willingly uttered the curse that was repeated throughout the world.

"May the Goddess illuminate our lives."

I smiled at Theodore, and it immediately disappeared. The older man stopped too— everyone did.

It was almost as if the world itself heard me speak, and decided to play some sort of sick joke on me. My infinitesimally small faith in the Goddess vanished, and I finally realized that if She did exist, She simply hated me for I hated Her world.

Because in front of us stood Marcus.

The head guard of the Mancis Company stood at the entrance of the warehouse, blocking our exit. He was not alone. Behind him were a hundred guards, all armed with weapons of all kinds pointed in our direction.

"How—" the words came from more than one source behind me

The crowd of guards parted, and from the back emerged a man dressed in a fancy suit and a cane. Julian Mancis walked alongside two men. Two slaves. The ones with Feri, I thought, heart sinking at the realization of a betrayal. Or perhaps it was my own folly that led to this.

"I’m sorry, Feri. But you would have died. This way you would—" one of them spoke out, but was silenced by Julian.

The owner of the Mancis Company raised his hand. "Yes, we will ensure nothing happens to your… friend." He then stepped forward to address us all.

"Once again, I find you lot futilely trying to escape. Never in my entire life as a businessman, have I had merchandise as troublesome as you all. So for that, I do applaud you."

He cast his gaze around our group, and nodded his head. He took a deep breath, and his voice emanated authority.

"However, you have also caused me a lot of trouble. And for that