The Calcite Chronicles: The Thief

Chapter 9:

My head spun as I regained consciousness. The room I found myself in was cold and empty, devoid of anything except the door and an oil lamp hanging from the ceiling that just barely lit the room. The floor, walls and ceiling were all made of wood, and there were no windows, making the room feel even more dense and oppressive.

I struggled to sit up, my hands instinctively reaching for Ren, only to realize she wasn’t there. I had left her in that healer’s hands. Panic gripped me as I reached for my pockets, but they were empty. No amethyst. No moonstone. No fluorite. No hematite. No tourmaline. And no...calcite.

The vivid memories of my conversation with Lida and Belferon replayed in my mind. Lida, with her enchanting voice and striking resemblance to my mother, had somehow manipulated me into revealing more than I intended. And now, I was locked inside this room.

How could I be so blind? Her pink ring! She had wielded her magic right in front of my eyes before, when she influenced the bandit leader to surrender. I’d received the same treatment, all because of my own oversight and stupidity. And Belferon? The man I’d begrudgingly trusted? He wasn’t the ally I so foolishly believed him to be. I should’ve trusted my initial instincts and never relied on him. Everything he did along the way, every bit of help he offered, was just a step toward whatever they were planning to do with us now.

The sound of the door creaking open snapped me back to attention. Lida entered, carrying a small stool, an unsettling grin stretched across her face. She positioned the stool in front of me and sat down. While Belferon loomed near the door, his expression calm and calculated.

‘I think he’s going to get disappointed.’ I recalled her saying, and a chill ran down my spine. My fists clenched, yearning to undo my mistakes.

“Welcome back, Luca.” Lida’s voice, once sweet, now sent chills down my spine. “Did you have a good nap?”

As I looked at her face, the features that had earlier resembled my mother were nowhere to be seen. I realized it was all part of her magic, and anger simmered within me. She had used my own memories, my own mother, to fool and capture me.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” She grinned. “I can’t bear the thought of you hating me.”

I remained quiet as my gaze shifted to Belferon, silently judging the charlatan traitor. He shrugged when his eyes met mine. “You were one heck of a tough nut to crack, laddie. It’s a good thing that dreadhowl appeared when it did, because I don’t know what else I could’ve done to make you fully trust me.”

His nonchalant shrug only ignited the rage building within me. His words, spoken with such casual arrogance, struck a nerve, and my eyes twitched involuntarily.

I tried to calm myself, to think more strategically. There were two of them and just one of me. But if I could take one of them out quickly, it would even the odds. My eyes locked onto Belferon – he was old. I could probably take him out relatively easily before Lida could jump in to help him.

I took a deep breath and lunged at him, but as I propelled myself forward, a sudden command from Lida cut through the air. “Sit down.”

It was as if invisible strings bound me, pulling me down as I obeyed her command and sat back on the floor. I attempted to resist her control, but my body refused to respond. Each command from my mind seemed to have no effect as I remained seated on the floor, unable to move a muscle.

“I really hate to see you like this.” Lida said, her voice dripping with false empathy. Her patronizing tone, laced with a feigned concern, made me even angrier. Before I could say something, she issued another command, revealing an unsettling image. “Look at this.”

She snapped her fingers, and a chain unveiled itself - a tether of pink ethereal light, connecting my neck to Lida’s left hand. It hung in the air, its revelation surreal. Lida, holding the other end of the chain, grinned as she tugged on the ethereal leash, and I found myself lurching forward, forced onto all fours. My head spun with confusion and fear as I realized I was in a much worse predicament than I had thought. I managed to choke out a question, my voice strained with both desperation and anger. “What do you want from me?”

Lida’s grin widened, and she leaned in, whispering with a hint of mockery. “Oh, darling, we want you.”

Her comment left me bewildered. Trying to make sense of her words, the anxiety about Ren resurfaced. “What about Ren? Is she okay?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Lida laughed, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Oh, your concern for her is just adorable. So honourable, caring about someone else when you’re in this delightful predicament. It makes me all tingly inside.”

My fists clenched as I struggled to control the mix of emotions boiling within me. Meanwhile, Belferon interjected, disdain in his voice. “Enough with your ‘tingly’ nonsense. Don’t you dare taint him.”

Lida laughed again. “Yeah, of course, Belfie.” she replied, her grin turning back to me, and I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling it gave me.

I stared at both of them, confused. “What do you mean, you want me?”

“Just what you heard, dear. We want you. It’s simple. You’re quite a catch.” She replied, confusing me even more, so I turned to Belferon for answers.

He advanced with a smirk, clearly enjoying my unease. “You remember I told you that I’m a follower of Vitara, right?” he asked.

I nodded, my mind still struggling to understand what they truly wanted and what Vitara had to do with it.

“Well, think about it. Vitara, the goddess of life. She brings life into everything in our world. Be it a gentle butterfly, a majestic deer, a ferocious dreadhowl, or even complex humans like us.” he continued.

Still perplexed, I asked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Is Vitara giving us our own life her greatest blessing to us?” Belferon ignored my question and posed one of his own, a faint smile on his lips.

Uncertain whether it was a rhetorical question, I hesitated to answer. Before I could even think of a response, he continued, his voice taking on a serious tone. “No, Luca. Vitara’s greatest gift for us is not our own life. It’s the lives of those around us.”

My frustration grew as his cryptic messages seemed to make no sense. My patience wore thin, and I couldn’t bear the ambiguity any longer. “I don’t understand what nonsense you’re talking about.” I spat, my tone laced with anger. “Release me.”

Lida’s amusement seemed to heighten. “Yup, leave it to me. I’ll release you right away.” She laughed uncontrollably for a moment before continuing. “Yeah, you’re not exactly in a position to make demands, you understand that, right?”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” I snapped. “Let us go!”

“Oof, I don’t like your tone.” She said before suddenly issuing a command. “Shut up and apologize.”

The pink, eerie glow enveloped the ethereal chain around my neck, and against my will, I found myself uttering words of apology. “I... I’m sorry for raising my voice.”

Lida grinned triumphantly. “I forgive you, my brave little man.”

Fear gripped my heart as I realized the extent of her power over me. She could even force me to speak against my own will.

Belferon seemed satisfied with my forced apology, and as the tension lingered, he decided to drop another revelation. “By the way, I might have fibbed a bit about my age.” he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What?” I asked, confused. Who cared how old he really was?

He leaned in, the flickering light of the oil lamp casting shadows on his face. “You see, Luca, I’m not really eighty-five. Born around Morthryga’s last war with Chilpedia, actually.”

I searched my mind and recalled that the war he was talking about happened two centuries ago. “That would mean...you’re around two hundred years old?”

Belferon burst into laughter. “Two hundred…Time sure flies by when you’re having fun.”

His words and reaction only made me question his sanity even more. There was no way he was actually two hundred years old.

My mind was in disarray, struggling to understand their need for me and to connect the dots between it and Belferon’s revelations. Fear for Ren’s safety intensified, as I still didn’t know her state or what they planned to do to her. Belferon, noticed my unease and flashed me a knowing smile. “Oh, don’t worry, my boy. We’ll have plenty of time to chat about everything. No rush, no pressure. A lot of time.” he emphasized.

“A loooot of time.” Lida echoed his words with a taunting grin, her eyes watched me intently. “You’re not going anywhere, anytime soon.”

She picked up the stool, and they left, leaving me alone in the eerie emptiness of the room. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, followed by a clink of a lock.

Initially, fear and uncertainty gripped my thoughts and heart. But as the seconds ticked by, a spark of defiance ignited within me. I couldn’t stay here. I had to save Ren. I got us in this mess, but I could still get us out. I must. “Like hell I’ll stay here for long.” I whispered to myself, determined to escape.

My eyes scanned the barren room, searching for a way out. I began exploring the corners and the walls, running my hands along them, trying to find anything that could help me get away from here. My hands moved quickly, frantically probing every nook and cranny of the room. The stress for my own safety and, more importantly, for Ren’s well-being, empowered my search.

The ethereal chain that bound me to Lida’s whims had disappeared, but I could still feel like it hung heavily around my neck, and I wondered if it was still there or if my mind was playing tricks on me. Either way, I had to assume that even if I managed to escape, her magic could still halt me with a mere command. Whatever happened, I needed to avoid her at all costs. My priority was finding Ren in the infirmary and getting out of here as soon as possible. Screw the calcite and the tourmaline - if I stumbled upon them, I’d take them, but right now my focus was on my survival and Ren’s safety. I still didn’t understand what Belferon and Lida wanted from me, but I knew it was something I didn’t want to stick around and find out.

The wooden floor creaked beneath my footsteps as I moved across the room, running my fingers over the wooden tiles. Then, a glimmer of hope flickered as my fingers brushed against something metallic that shouldn’t have been there. I picked it up - a metallic hairpin. Albeit a bit crude, and not exactly ideal for lockpicking, if I manipulated it a little, I could still use it to escape the room.

I approached the door and strained my ears, listening for any sign of approaching footsteps. Satisfied that the coast was clear, I straightened the hairpin, then carefully bent the tip into a small, makeshift hook. Holding my breath, I inserted the hairpin into the lock and began to feel for the pins. It wasn’t easy, considering the tool at hand, but eventually the lock yielded to my efforts. The door silently opened, revealing a dimly lit corridor.

I stepped forward into the empty corridor, the wooden floor echoing the sound of my footsteps. To my right, a staircase led downward. To my left, a window revealed the evening outside, the dimming daylight filtering through the glass. I approached the window cautiously and surveyed the surroundings. It was clear I was on an elevated floor, as the empty streets stretched out below, the last rays of sunlight painting them in amber hues.

Based on the mental map Lida and Belferon had inadvertently provided during their tour, I deduced that I was somewhere near the bakery, not too far from the infirmary itself. My heart raced as I imagined Ren back at the infirmary, her state still a mystery to me. But with a determined breath, I turned away from the window and set my sights on the staircase. I silently descended, each step measured and careful, until I reached the ground floor – it was empty of people. I was surprised. If I was so important to them, why hadn’t they left anyone to guard me? I decided not to dwell on it. Their mistakes were none of my concern, but I would use them to my advantage without thinking twice about it.

I stepped outside into the cool evening air, the streets devoid of people. The same streets that had been full of life during the afternoon tour now stood empty. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Where had everyone vanished to?

The deserted streets echoed with each hushed step as I cautiously moved forward, my back pressed against the cool brick walls of the village’s houses, while my ears strained for any sounds that might betray the presence of others.

I passed the bakery, now silent with its door closed. Broden had seemed like a nice man when I met him earlier, even giving me free bread and offering a warm welcome. But I knew I couldn’t trust him - or anyone else in Vedem - since I still couldn’t tell if Lida and Belferon were acting on their own or if something deeper was at play.

Approaching the infirmary with my senses on high alert, a sudden thud against a window to my side jolted my nerves. Startled, I glanced toward the source of the sound and discovered a figure trapped inside the house on my left. A man, seemingly in his mid-twenties with short brown hair and dark eyes, was knocking desperately on the window, pleading for assistance. For a moment, I considered leaving him there. I didn’t know him, and I surely didn’t feel any responsibility toward him. Ren’s safety, and my own, were my only concerns. But the dilemma weighed on my mind and I was torn between prioritizing our safety and aiding this stranger. As I hesitated, my thoughts turned to Elandor, contemplating what he would have done. I sighed, knowing that he would’ve probably helped the man.

I approached the house’s door and attempted to open it, only to find it locked. Relying on my makeshift lockpick, I crouched beside the lock and carefully maneuvered the mechanism until the door clicked open. The man emerged into the dim light of the street and, wasting no time, lunged forward, enveloping me in a tight, thankful embrace. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He said, his voice shaking. I quickly urged him to keep his voice down. I didn’t know where everyone was, but there was no need to alert them to our presence. The man, still trembling with fear, nodded vigorously, covering his mouth in a desperate attempt to silence himself.

“Who locked you in here?” I asked with a whisper.

“A-a woman.” He whispered back, his voice laced with fear. “A woman with long, dark hair. I don’t know why, but-but I can’t stop following her orders.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at his words. “Was her name Lida?” I asked hesitantly, even though I already knew the answer.

The man’s terrified expression at the sound of her name spoke volumes as he nodded, a confirmation of our shared fate.

“You should go.” I said, figuring he’d be safer is he escaped now. “She’s dangerous. You’d better get as far away from here as possible.”

He shook his head, his eyes wide with fear. “I c-can’t. My Lanny is still there. In the-in the infirmary.”

I was immediately reminded of the other patients I had glimpsed earlier in the infirmary. “Is she the red-haired woman? Or one of the children?” I asked.

“The woman!" He nodded anxiously, his grip tightening on my arm. “You’ve seen her?”

“Yes.” I answered, shaking his hands off me.

“Was she hurt?” he asked, his voice urgent. “Did they do something to her?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. She was unconscious when I was there, but I’m pretty sure she was still alive.”

The man looked relieved.

“Listen, I’m going to the infirmary to get my friend.” I told him. “You can come with me to save yours, but only if you keep quiet.”

He nodded almost immediately. “Lead the way.”

I nodded and moved forward, with the man following closely behind. Our footsteps echoed cautiously through the deserted streets, and as we neared the main square, the mystery of the missing villagers was solved. There, under the towering statue of Vitara, the villagers - each covered in dark-red robes - were kneeling in a silent congregation, their eyes closed in what seemed like a collective prayer. I immediately recalled the gathering Lida, Walden, and Belferon mentioned earlier and realized this must be it.

“W-what are they doing?” the man asked me, clearly confused.

“Looks like some sort of prayer.” I replied, uncertain myself.

The muted sounds of the villagers’ prayer resonated in the air as the man and I circled around the infirmary, keeping our distance from the main square. I wondered again if the other villagers were aware of Lida and Belferon’s intentions or if I should just interrupt their prayer and try to convince them to help me. But after misplacing my trust in Belferon once, I wasn’t willing to risk it happening again. It was better to do this without alerting anyone and run away.

We reached the back of the infirmary and peered through the right window, glimpsing both Ren and the red-haired woman lying unconscious within. The other patients were still there as well, but Vera and her nurses were absent, likely taking part in the prayer outside. The sight of Ren urged me to move faster. I sought to open the window from the outside, but it resisted my efforts. Then the man called to me. “Hey, over here.” He whispered, pointing to the second window, to our left. It was slightly ajar. We pried it open and slipped into the infirmary.

The man, overcome with emotion, hastened to the side of his unconscious companion. “Oh Lanny! My sweet Lanny! I’m here!” His heartfelt cries echoed through the room, and I immediately hushed him. He nodded with an apologetic expression, trying to stifle his sobs.

While he wept for his companion, I turned my attention to Ren, relieved to find her unharmed. As my hand brushed her forehead, I reassured myself that Vera’s claim of Ren having a fever was a deceitful fabrication. Relief washed over me, knowing I had reached her in time to prevent any potential harm. Eager to leave, I prepared to lift her when the man’s cries suddenly intensified, threatening to reveal our location.

“Shh. Stay quiet.” I urged, but he refused to listen. His cries were dangerous and were going to reveal our position to the praying villagers, which were quite literally just outside the door.

In a desperate attempt to stifle his emotional outburst, I rushed to his side and forcefully covered his mouth with my hand. Anger flickered in my eyes as I pleaded with him to keep silent, but the man shook his head. As my hand clamped over his mouth, he struggled in silence, his eyes betraying a mix of fear and remorse. Concerned by his unsettling gaze, I gradually lifted my hand, hoping he would explain himself. Instead, his emotions erupted into ugly sobs. “I’m sorry.” He cried loudly, his voice rising to a shout. “I’m so-so sorry!”

Baffled, I asked. “What are you sorry for?” But he just continued crying until a familiar voice from outside cut through the silence, addressing me directly. “Luca, oh dear Luca, would you please join us outside?”

A shiver ran down my spine as I realized they knew I was here. The man had revealed our location, and now the villagers were aware of my presence. I could almost feel their collective gaze upon me.

As I looked at the sobbing man, the realization struck even deeper. His apologies – he wasn’t apologizing for crying. He was apologizing because it was all a setup. Everything was part of their plan. The man had been planted in that house in advance, knowing I would save him. Even if I hadn’t, they had probably followed each and every step I took all along. It likely went even deeper - they wanted me to escape. A single metallic hairpin in an otherwise empty room was always too good to be true, especially after I’d revealed to them that I was a lockpicker.

Silent contempt enveloped me as Walden’s voice now reached my ears. “Hey Luca, come, come. Join us.” he called out.

I ignored them all. Leaving the sobbing man to his devices, I approached Ren, attempting to lift her and escape. But before I could do anything, another familiar voice pierced through my ears. A voice that not only grabbed my immediate attention but also seemed to physically pull me toward the door. “Come out now, Luca.” Lida’s commanding voice reached my ears, and I found myself stepping toward the door, a sense of helplessness seizing me. I attempted to resist, to drive her voice away, but it kept ringing in my mind and I could do nothing but obey her. My legs moved on their own, pulled by an unseen force that ignored my desperate attempts to fight it. Every step felt like my body was betraying me, surrendering and relinquishing its control to Lida. The chain around my neck manifested before my eyes once more, pulling me outside against my will.

The sobbing man’s apologies echoed in my ears as I passed him on my way to the door and opened it, revealing a scene of jubilant villagers. They were suddenly clapping in unison, a collective sound that sent shivers down my spine. The villagers, once seemingly ordinary, now stood on either side, forming a passage that led me toward the quartet of orchestrators – Walden, Belferon, Lida, and the seemingly benevolent Vera. The ethereal chain connected me to Lida, who laughingly pulled it, causing me to stumble forward on my hands and knees. The villagers’ gleeful applause and cheers intensified, drowning out my bewildered thoughts.

I questioned my own sanity - was this bizarre scenario actually real, or was it just a nightmare? Why were they celebrating my arrival so much? What did they want with me? Belferon’s betrayal weighed heavily on my mind, a painful reminder that trust was a luxury I should never have afforded.

My gaze fell upon Vera, the so-called healer of the village. Ren’s supposed saviour was, in reality, a pivotal figure in whatever crazy religious ideas this village was participating in. I should’ve known. All my instincts were alerting me that something was wrong and still I pushed them aside. As I thought about it more, I realized that Lida’s control over me probably began earlier than her kitchen - it began when I met Vera. That’s why she insisted on joining us when we reached the infirmary. How could I have been so naive? I already knew that people like Belferon didn’t exist. No one would ever help you out of the kindness of their heart. There was always an ulterior motive...

As I walked toward them, the crowd’s cheers echoed in the main square. Then, Lida’s voice cut through the air. “Martin! Come here, my loyal dog.”

Compelled by morbid curiosity, I turned my head to witness nothing short but horror. In a grotesque display of subservience, the man emerged from the infirmary and scurried on all fours toward Lida. His tears mingled with the dirt on his face, creating streaks that reflected his degradation. The sight was beyond surreal. He cried like a wounded animal. As he ran toward her, my eyes met hers, and she sent a smile in my direction. Suddenly, I could see another ethereal chain extending from her left hand, connected to the poor man’s neck. It seemed like Lida enjoyed her power so much, that even showing it extent to me was enough to give her satisfaction.

Her joyous demeanor intensified as the man approached her, still on all fours. With an unsettling glee, she patted his head, treating him like a pet. “Good job Martin. Who’s a good little boy? You are!”

Combined with the wild cheers of the villagers, there was no other way to describe this image other than sheer horror.

The villagers’ raucous applause then morphed into an ominous roar as I reached Vitara’s statue, under which Vera, Belferon, Walden and Lida stood.

“Kneel before the great goddess.” Lida commanded, and I could not disobey. I knelt beneath the statue of Vitara, helpless against her commands.

Vera, her hands raised in an orchestrating gesture, signalled the crowd to cease their cheers, and an eerie silence descended almost immediately. Her control over the crowd was as terrifying as my entire predicament.

“Oh, great Vitara!” Vera shouted to the sky. “On your birthday, you blessed us with this great gift. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. We are not worthy!”

The villagers resumed their applause, speaking in almost perfect unison. “We are not worthy!”

I couldn’t wrap my head around her words. Vitara, the goddess of life, revered and benevolent in Celestian beliefs, seemed distorted in this ritualistic display. Vera referred to me as a gift from Vitara, a label that only enhanced my bewilderment. How could my presence be considered a divine blessing?

As Vera continued her prayers in inaudible mumbles, Lida slithered to my side. She knelt on one knee beside me, her evil grin revealing the depths of her sinister self. “I told you – you’re not going anywhere, anytime soon.” She whispered into my ear.