This telepathy was disgusting. No, this was soul-crushingly awful. Because apparently, my brain had just become a direct, unfiltered feed to Kaelen's internal monologue, and it was a nonstop parade of:
"Must find a cure. Must control the curse. Must not strangle the infuriating woman currently judging my life choices."
Meanwhile, my brain, having absolutely no chill whatsoever, was blasting its own brand of chaos right back at him:
"Why does his armor have so many buckles? Is that really practical for fighting? Who polishes this nonsense? And seriously, why is his hair so stupidly perfect even after surviving a Temple explosion and a monster transformation? Is it magic? Should I set it on fire? Just to see if it's real?"
____
[Telepathy Timer: 8 minutes remaining.]
____
The golden text flickered in my mind, a stark reminder of the ticking clock on this nightmare connection.
"Your thoughts," Kaelen's mental voice growled in my head, "are unbearably loud. And remarkably… very disturbing."
"Your face," I shot back mentally, "is unbearably punchable. Congrats on that achievement, by the way." I tried to inject as much mental sass as possible, hoping he could feel my supreme annoyance.
We continued through the dense forest, putting as much distance as possible between us and the carnage at the cave. The system's brand-new telepathy feature was like having a group chat with my absolute worst enemy.
Every little fleeting thought, every momentary impulse, was broadcast LIVE to the other. It was the antithesis of everything I stood for – privacy, independence, not having my brain invaded by a perpetually grumpy royal.
As we moved through the trees, a flicker of his thoughts caught my mental ear. It was darker than the usual 'brooding' static. It was fast, like a shadow darting across a moonlit path, but I caught it.
"She doesn't know. She can't know. The cure requires her scars. Her power. Her… sacrifice."
The words hit me like a physical blow, even though they were only thoughts. I nearly tripped over an exposed root. My blood ran cold, then boiled with instant fury.
"Sacrifice?!" I blurted out. My voice was suddenly loud in the quiet forest, startling some birds to burst from the branches above.
Kaelen stiffened, his entire body going rigid. The telepathic link, already buzzing with my sudden anger, flared. "Get out of my head, Chainbreaker. You have no right." His mental voice was a furious snarl, laced with something that sounded like panic.
"No right?!" I whirled on him, my scars flaring with a raw, unstable light, fueled by betrayal. "You're hunting me for a cure?! For your curse?! Let me guess—you need to chop me into potion ingredients? Harvest my magic? Drain my life force? What?"
"Tell me, Prince, what glorious 'sacrifice' does your cure demand from me? Because I'm feeling distinctly un-sacrificial right now!"
His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking violently in his forehead. I could feel his sudden spike of his desperate, internal reasoning. "It's not that simple." His thoughts were desperately trying to regain control.
"Oh, really?!" My hands shot out, fueled by pure rage, and I shoved him hard in the chest. My hands sparked with raw curse-breaking energy, unstable and dangerous.
"Because from where I'm standing, it sounds exactly that simple! You're just another Contract-lover using people as tools! Using me as a tool! That's all your kind ever does!"
My voice cracked, thick with the old wounds he'd just ripped open. The echoes of my mother's execution, the betrayal, the System's constant control – it all coalesced into a blinding fury.
The telepathy amplified everything like a megaphone. His surge of deep guilt slammed into me. The way his very shadow seemed to recoil like a scolded dog, shying away from my furious energy. It was an overwhelming unfiltered emotion.
"I didn't want to," his thoughts slipped out, raw and unguarded, a whisper of desperation beneath the mental shouting match. "I didn't want to believe it. But the Temple… they said you're the only one who can break my curse. They said... You would understand. That you'd see it was necessary."
The words were said with weariness, a sense of resignation that was almost as infuriating as his initial deception.
"Understand what?" I shot back, my voice trembling with the force of my anger. "That you're a hypocrite? That you'll sell out anyone to save yourself? That you're just like every other power-hungry tyrant who uses other people as a means to an end?"
My words were brutal, designed to wound, because his revelation had wounded me very deeply.
____
[System Alert: Emotional volatility detected.]
[Recommend: Hug it out.]
____
The system's suggestion flashed, completely deadpan, completely out of touch with the screaming chaos of our combined mental landscape.
"NO." We shouted in unison, the sound echoing through the silent forest, a perfect, furious harmony. The thought, just as loud, screamed in both our heads: ABSOLUTELY NOT!
Then, before my brain could register a single second of hesitation.
SMACK, I slapped him hard.
It was a full-palmed, scars-flaring, "How dare you even THINK that, let alone DO that, you hypocritical princely jerk" slap that cracked through the forest. His head snapped to the side, a bright red handprint blooming angrily on his stupidly perfect cheekbone.
My palm stung, but an animalistic surge of satisfaction and joy suddenly bloomed in me.
"Feel better?" he thought, his mental voice flat, deadpan. He didn't move, just stood there, letting the slap sting.
"Yes, for the moment." I thought back, feeling a tiny, vindictive thrill. It was a small victory, but it was mine.
A chuckle cut through the tension, startling both of us. It was light, airy, yet somehow laced with a deep, ancient knowing. "Ah, young love. All slaps and sexual tension. Just how I remember it."
We turned our heads towards the sound almost at the same time. A woman was leaning against a birch tree. Her cloak was tattered, green and brown, blending perfectly with the forest. Her hair was a wild cascade of silver streaked with black, with a sharp smile.
"Eris?" My voice cracked in disbelief. My mentor. My dead mentor. It couldn't be.
Her eyes, bright and knowing, twinkled. "Miss me, Sparkie?" she chimed.
Flashback:
Eris, my mentor, her hands guiding mine, teaching me to trace the invisible threads of magic, to find the weak points, to break my first Contract. "Magic's just a knot, Zahara. Pull the right thread, and POOF—tyranny unravels." Her grin, wide and reckless, was infectious.
Eris, surrounded by a rebel ambush. Her blood seeped into the damp forest soil, painting the leaves crimson. "Finish it, kid," she'd whispered, her eyes already glazing over, but fierce even in death. "Break everything." My hands trembled as I held her.
____
Eris, now. Standing here, leaning against a tree, winking like death was merely a mild inconvenience, a minor scheduling conflict.
"You're a ghost," I accused, my voice shaking with grief, and anger. "You're supposed to be dead. I saw you die!"
"A Spectre," she corrected, pushing herself off the tree with a casual grace that defied logic. She tossed something to me, a small, intricate pendant that glowed with a fractured, unstable light, like captured starlight. "Better benefits. Less paperwork. Also, I brought a gift!"
The pendant landed in my palm, warm and humming with a strange, dissonant magic. Immediately, the system's voice, which had been screaming in my mind just moments ago, faded. It became a distant murmur, a barely audible hum. The golden text, if it was there, was now opaque, unreadable.
[Glitch Pendant Acquired: System Muted for 1 hour.]
Kaelen's eyes narrowed as he studied Eris suspiciously. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. "You serve the god of chains," he stated flatly, like an accusation.
"Serve is such a… hierarchical word," Eris pointed out, twirling a dagger that shimmered with what looked like pure starlight between her fingers.
Her smile widened, showing just a flash of sharp, predatory teeth. "I prefer 'ethically freelancer.' Or 'chaos enthusiast with a penchant for smashing oppressive structures.'"
"Don't trust her," Kaelen's thought, sharp and urgent, cut through the quiet. "She is dangerous."
"You don't get a vote," I thought back, just as sharply. "You're the one who needs a cure from my scars, remember?"
Eris smirked, clearly amused by our mental bickering. "What a cute bond," she purred, her gaze lingering on the pulsing space between us. "Shame it'll kill you."
My blood ran cold. "What?!"
"The system's a trap, Sparkie. A very old, very hungry trap. It wants you to merge—souls, magic, the whole tragic romance package. Become a shiny new god for a world that's already got too many." She leaned in, her eyes glinting with a dangerous knowledge. "Or… break the game. Break everything. Your call."
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[Telepathy Timer: 0 minutes remaining.]
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The mental link snapped with an audible pop, like a string pulled too tight. The sudden silence in my head was deafening. Eris vanished as quickly and mysteriously as she'd appeared, leaving nothing but the pulsating pendant in my palm and a chilling warning hanging in the wind:
"Tick-tock, kids. The god's watching."
The pendant in my palm pulsed. The system, muffled but clearly furious, flickered a new message pushing past the interference.
____
[WARNING: Glitch detected.]
[New Quest: Kiss your enemy to unlock the truth.]
____
Kaelen and I stared at each other, our eyes wide with shock and utter disgust. The silence, now that the telepathy was gone, was almost as terrifying as the voice in my head.
"No." My voice was flat, resolute.
"Never." Kaelen's was equally firm, equally disgusted.
The pendant glowed hotter, pulsing with what felt like intense, annoyed magic.
"Fine. Suf... fer." the System's voice taunted me again, as it got distorted by the pendant.