Conquerors Will 

Jahad was too slow, too late. The magical stars swirled with malicious intent; he would not make it. He snaked out his hand, hoping it would absorb the brunt of the impending force. A powerful, condensed fireball formed, flooding his mind with memories of the fiery serpents that had stripped his skin to the bone. As his hand stretched toward the impact, dark tendrils began to intertwine around the fireball and the priest's arm. Like a vicious parasite, the black lines gnawed into the priest's flesh, slithering toward his heart. Jahad's eyes widened as a deep amethyst hue engulfed the priest's pupils.

In a desperate moment, the priest bent his arm, redirecting the fireball back toward himself. A searing pain erupted as the flames scorched half his face, sending him stumbling backward. Fear was no longer etched into the man's features; instead, a vacant, zombie-like expression replaced it. His eyes, now a haunting purple-black, reflected the chaos within as the dark wisps danced along the periphery. The fireball crashed into the side of the building, melting through it effortlessly, yet sparing everyone else—except for the priest, who remained trapped in the grip of Jahad's unseen influence.

Lepic and Ron's gaze snapped away from Lepic to the priest, whose face was half scorched, the acrid scent of charred flesh filling the air. The priest sat there, lost in a zombified trance as if the chaos around him had never occurred. A wide grin broke across Lepic's face, stretching from ear to ear. "Holy shit, Ron, he's wielding a cursed art!" Lepic exclaimed, his grip tightening around the hammer as he burst into laughter. It was a jarring sound, completely at odds with his usually calm demeanor, yet it sliced through the tense atmosphere like a knife. Ron's expression was a whirlwind of emotions—awestruck, bewildered, and laced with a hint of terror. Jahad stood there confused but before he could usher out anything, Lepics eyes snapped back to Ron, his face returning deadly serious. "He's one of our own, we don't kill our own" he repeated himself from before. Ron looked at him, his face marred with irritation, he tutted before speaking "Yeah I get it you broken record, now let go you twat". Lepics grip tightened. "Swear on it Ron". Ron's face looked exasperated as if he was about to blow but then he huffed, raising his right hand "I, Ron of the Xoris clan, swear by my sacred divinity bestowed by the old queen, will not kill Jahad". Lepic nodded approvingly, letting go of Ron's hammer before replying "I, Lepic Whitethorne, swear by my sacred divinity bestowed by the old queen, will not kill Jahad". Ron let out a big sigh before speaking. "Lepic I sure hope you know what you're doing".

Finally, Jahad had enough. He shouted to both of them, "What the hell is going on?" His face was a mask of anger and confusion; he had narrowly escaped death at the hands of one of his closest allies, almost killed by a drunken priest, and then left in the dark to fend for himself. He was livid. Ron, responding to Jahad's fury, said, "Easy there, tiger. I swore I wouldn't kill you, but hurting you is a completely different matter." He began shadow boxing around Jahad playfully, which only fueled Jahad's irritation further. In a swift motion, Jahad swatted Ron's hand away. Lepic's calming voice cut through the tension. "Jahad, there's not much time to explain," he said, glancing at his stopwatch. "We need to get out of here. Our influence is limited up here, and it would be fucked if the officials caught wind of this. Once we find somewhere safe, I'll fill you in." He turned toward the priest, crouching down to poke him gently with his pointer finger. The priest's head bobbed back into place, as if he were a lifeless figurine. "Ron, clean this mess up. We need to move," Lepic instructed. As Lepic led Jahad to the back exit, he caught a glimpse of Ron pulling out a scroll that ignited into a blazing pile of fuel, crafted from the scattered furniture around them.

It was nightfall, and the atmosphere was serene, a contrast to the business of the underground. The stars twinkled overhead like scattered diamonds, casting a gentle glow over the landscape. The air was cool and crisp, filled with the subtle scent of pine and earth. The campfire crackled softly, its warm light dancing on the faces of Lepic, Ron, and Jahad as they sat in a circle, the flames flickering in rhythm with the gentle breeze. The fire's glow illuminated their features, casting long shadows that flickered across the ground. As they chewed on skewers they had bought along the way, the only sounds that broke the stillness were the soft chirping of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. It was a peaceful night, far removed from the bustling energy of the underground, where the noise of life never truly ceased. Here, in this tranquil setting, there was a sense of calm, a moment of respite from their chaotic journey.

Lepic swallowed a tough cut of meat, downing a waterskin before speaking bluntly "Jahad your cursed", Jahad replied with a hint of annoyance "yeah I got that when a raving priest tried blasting us" the outburst caused him to chuckle. "Jahad as you heard, the divinities are given by the old queen or whatever, its sacred, magic only exists because of her. However, cursed beings defy her nature." He took another swig of his waterskin, clearing his parched throat. "Cursed beings sacrifice something for their potential rather than using the sacred divinity, they are beings who reject it". Jahad responded "So what's the issue? I can't just be killed over something I had no control over". Lepic gave a sympathetic nod of some sorts before speaking "cursed beings are almost known as the boogeymen of our world, they do not have a good reputation, cursed beings are killed instantly the moment they are born, usually there's clear indicators such as the mark". He pointed towards Jahads neck, he pulled his shirt down, revealing an ink like tattoo around his neck. Runic symbols carved around the bottom of his neck, in a chain shape. "The unveiling caused your mark to show". Jahad was curious about the reputation that caused people who had the curse to be killed and quelled from birth. 

"What type of reputation are we talking about?" Ron's gruff voice finally broke the silence, his demeanor unwavering and stern. His eyes locked onto Jahad, reflecting a thousand-yard stare that revealed a profound sense of disconnection, as if his mind were wrestling with the shadows of a tumultuous past. His voice was gravelly, laden with the weight of memories. "When we served, we faced one of the cursed seven beings. He appeared human, but he was far from it, and he certainly wasn't on our side." His voice faltered, a tremor betraying the emotion buried deep within. Lepic handed him the waterskin, and Ron took a long, desperate gulp. "Our entire platoon was annihilated. Only Lepic and I managed to escape, and it was by the skin of our teeth. But it was that man's will that spared us; he simply chose to let us live."

Lepic spoke for Ron as he gulped down more of the waterskin. "The seven beings are classified information, they are told as fairy tales to make kids go to bed or stay in line, but just like you a cursed being, they are very much real". Jahad sat thoughtfully, digesting the information given. He wanted to ask more about these beings but it didn't feel right to, there would be another time for that. He racked his head around, he needed more information. "What about the cursed arts? What's that about?" Lepic responded Lepic replied, "For a cursed being to survive is exceedingly rare; most are killed while still young. Those who do survive rarely harness their curse. The primary reason a cursed individual is killed is due to the cursed arts—it's akin to divinity. When your curse reaches its potential, it becomes formidable. The seven beings all possess cursed arts, and they are all extraordinarily powerful." He paused, a mysterious glint in his eye. "Though it's said that they're all dead now". 

Jahad slumped back his mind racing with thoughts. Lepic spoke again. "Your curse, you have no mana is what you sacrificed, however you seem to be able to control or use the soul of others under your will, when it comes to your path for mastery over it, I won't be able to help you and neither would Ron, information on it is just too limited". Ron's gruff voice cut through "Zephyr does though…" he looked at Lepic, his eyes seemed to widen a bit, he hummed thoughtfully. "Although me and Ron can't help you, what he said is right we know someone who could, although that's for another day, we've spoken enough about it unless you want to know anything else we should get some shut eye". Jahad thought for a moment, but decided not to pry anymore. He needed time to himself to cultivate what was given to him.

He clambered into the back of the carriage, Jayces body facing away from him, he sneaked into the duvet but Jayce rolled over and looked at Lepic. "I heard everything, you're cursed?"Jahad showed him the mark, Jayce shivered at the sight of it but then looked back at Jahad. "I trust you, this doesn't change the Jahad I know". Jahad gave a small smile in return for his kind comment. "But man that is scary, back in the orphanage, whenever one of the kids misbehaved they'd say they'll let the cursed eat them, just the mention of the curse nauseated me". Jahad gave a dry laugh before saying "what about you, what's your path?". Jayce replied exuberantly "no surprise but a knight, fire affinity mainly". Jahad gave an exaggerated yawn. "Who woulda thought" giving a chuckle he then said "Let's sleep".

Once Jayce was in a deep slumber, Jahad sat up his back against the carriage wall, Ron and Lepic slept near the campfire, each taking turns in who slept, a habit developed from serving Jahad guessed. He stared at his own callused hands, his thoughts racing. His mind filled with the sirens and the priest's scorched face, the black wisps enveloping the priest. Jahads eyes snapped open the black wisps formed around his small finger tips, he clicked his fingers and they disappeared. All night Jahad kept flicking the wisps on and off, it seemed to give a sort of closure. Every time he flicked it on a surge of emotions and memories some didn't even seem to be his own but the sudden flooding made it difficult to discern which is which. Finally just as dawn broke Jahad felt a wave of tiredness hit him, he closed his eyes.