Alasla: The New Age

Chapter Ten- The Promise

"You hate yourself for the things that you have done. You don't want to know yourself at all, because you hate it." She pointed out in a harsh tone.

Ralph didn't object. He couldn't try to deny her, because he knows it was true.

Kanitha sighed and slid off her bracelet. She ran her fingers across its polished surface, twisting it between her hands.

"Have you heard of the Ten Magias?" She asked softly.

"Ten of the strongest magical objects in the world?" Ralph recalled, wondering why is she asking this question. The Ten Magias is a story told to him by Jerron years ago. Jerron himself holds one of it, and so do the other Four Rulers. Whereas Shelly the Dragon herself is considered one of the Ten Magias.

"This is it," she held the bracelet between her fingers. "It's my secret. It's called The Strange." She turned it around, revealing the cursive letters engraved in the gold. "It can control life and death."

Ralph widened his eyes. Does she possess this kind of magic? But it's such a shame she doesn't kill- how much trouble it would've saved for her.

"And don't you think about stealing it," she mocked. "The power could only be activated me and me alone."

Ralph's pocket knife was brandished and inched onto Kanitha's neck in less than a second.

"Who are you?" He growled beneath his breath. His coal-back eyes flared emerald green as his flame circled his body. But locked between his legs, wrapped in his shadow, Kanitha remained as tranquil and calm as ever. She grabbed his knife and pushed it into her neck, but it left no wound. Her body is just like water.

"Some questions are better not asked," her fixed smile is as cold as the night outside. "Either way, does it matter? Take me to Garavia, and I will never come into your life again."

Ralph wasn't about to give up. Closing his eyes, the air around them gradually grew colder. Apart from that, an inexplicable sense of terror and death clambered through the space. The night grew ghost-quiet as Ralph unleashed the Cauchard.

He opened his eyes to see Kanitha stunned, a whisk of satisfaction swept through his mind, seeing that he's finally able to wipe that creepy smile off her face.

The Cauchard is commonly known as the death aura. Once a person had killed a certain amount of people, their souls would cling to the murderer. If the murderer is capable of controlling them, they could be used. The way he's using them right now.

"You're mad," Kanitha whispers. 

Ralph only looked away."I don't really care anymore."

Kanitha's right. He hates himself for what he had become. He felt dirty. He doesn't believe he is still redeemable.

Ralph collected back his Cauchard. What is he doing? He slowly, achingly bent over Kanitha, hiding his face away behind her shoulder.

"I'm a pawn of the Government," he sobbed. "There are people who have their beliefs on me to change something of this world. To save it. But yet I can't even save myself. In the end, all of my friends left me. Some hate me, others died for me. I'm a plague, just like my Stone. I can't save this world; I'll just make it worse."

Tears dripped down onto the wood beneath his face. He pressed his forehead onto the railing, his hand still clutching the hilt of his knife. Sea breeze occasionally slips in from the creaks, brushing his face, and making him realize how warm and wet it is.

"I'd like a fantasy or legend of superpowers and world-saving heroes," Kanitha breathed beside him. "But I like you better. Promise me, from now on, just be you. Not a world-saver, not a tool of the Government. And I'll stay with you; you've seen my power, so trust me. I'll never die."

Ralph sat up, his gaze meeting hers. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, not knowing why he was trusting a stranger he's known for a couple of hours so much.

"Promise?"

Was that a glint of hesitation in her eyes?

But the next second, warmness replaced the doubt, and she truly smiled.

"Promise."