Entry #5

Louis staggered to the center of the ship, breath ragged, bandages wrapped tightly around his charred body. The waves rocked the wooden vessel beneath him. Salt filled his lungs.

“Where am I?” he muttered to himself.

A voice called out, firm and familiar—cutting through the night air.

“LORD DELACROIX!”

Louis turned sharply.

There, standing near the helm, was a young boy wrapped in a thin cloak. His face was smudged with soot, but his eyes glowed with fire.

“Giuseppe… That’s your name, isn’t it?” Louis asked, blinking against the wind.

The boy nodded.

Louis stepped closer. “What happened after I passed out? And where are we?”

Giuseppe’s gaze dropped to the deck. “After you saved me, a man found me. He said his name was Alfredo. He claimed to be your servant. He took care of the survivors… He’s the one who commissioned this ship.”

He took a deep breath. “Word of Claudio’s house fire spread fast. The capital called it an act of heresy. They began hunting us—anyone who carried the powers of the devil.”

Louis froze. “What do you mean?”

Giuseppe extended his hand. Snap. A flame sparked to life on his fingertips.

“This,” he said, “isn’t normal anymore. Some of us… can summon flame. Others control water. Wind. Thunder.”

Louis stared, stunned.

Giuseppe continued. “If we’re lucky, we escape. If not… they execute us in the streets.”

Louis’s heart sank. “What about Celine?”

Giuseppe hesitated. “She… was the first to resist. She fought back. Protected the others. She… saved us.”

Louis's knees buckled. He fell forward, hands clenched into fists against the deck.

“My sister is dead?!”

“I’m sorry,” Giuseppe whispered.

Tears streamed down Louis’s face. “I was powerless… I couldn't even protect my own blood.”

“She gave her life for us. That’s why Alfredo prepared this ship—for the survivors. For the last hope.”

Louis looked up. “Then… where are we going?”

Giuseppe shook his head. “We don’t know.”

Louis stood, his voice trembling. “My grandfather once told me… when you’re lost, watch the birds. They’ll lead you to land.”

Giuseppe looked skyward.

“I’ll follow them,” Louis said. “And I swear to you—on Celine’s name—we’ll find a place where no one is hunted for who they are.”

“You have our loyalty, Louis Delacroix.”

Louis turned, fire in his eyes.

“No longer call me ‘Lord.’ I am one of you. Equal to you.”

Back in Atrium, black smoke coiled into the sky.

Crowds had gathered to watch the execution.

Celine Delacroix’s body burned atop the pyre—branded a devil, her ashes scattered like petals on the wind.

Claudio stood in the crowd, hidden beneath a tattered hood, his eyes glassy and hollow.

He didn’t cry.

He didn’t scream.

He just watched.

She had been the only person who ever believed in him.

And now she is gone.

The crowd dispersed. Claudio remained.

Alone.

When darkness fell, he crept to the plaza, where the embers of her execution still glowed.

He knelt and gathered the ashes in a silk cloth, holding them to his chest.

A voice broke the silence.

“Hey! What are you doing?! Don’t you know it’s forbidden to touch the ashes of a devil?!”

Claudio didn’t turn.

“She wasn’t a devil. She fought for what she believed in. I… I admired her.”

The man growled. “You want to be cursed too?”

Claudio stood, his face calm. “The only people who make curses real… are fools like you.”

Before the man could draw breath, Claudio lunged and plunged a knife into his neck.

Blood sprayed the cobblestones.

The man gurgled. “You… madman…”

Claudio leaned close. “Karma is coming for all of us. But for you… it just arrived early.”

CRACK—he kicked the man’s head against the stone.

“You don’t deserve salvation,” Claudio whispered. “No god is waiting for you. No heaven. We all die… alone.”

He disappeared into the shadows, the ashes still in his hands.

Night settled over the sea.

Louis stood on the upper deck, arms crossed, staring into the horizon. The stars were clear, but his mind was clouded with grief.

Giuseppe approached, footsteps soft. “For a man like you… surviving what you did… that’s a miracle.”

“I was exposed to Claudio’s formula,” Louis replied. “Maybe that’s why I survived. Maybe… I’m like you now.”

Giuseppe sat beside him. “All my life, I wanted a home. I grew up in the slums… begging nobles for crumbs.”

He looked at Louis. “Men like you were gods to me. Untouchable. Unreachable. But you… you’re different.”

Louis turned to him, brow furrowed.

“Why did you save me, back then?”

Louis stood, the sea breeze tugging at his bandages.

“Because someone had to,” he said.

“I fight for those who cannot. Even if I burn. Even if I bleed. That’s what separates us from the monsters.”

“Wealth and power,” he continued, “make men arrogant. I ignored the pain of my people for too long. But no more.”

“When we find land… no one will suffer like you did, Giuseppe. I swear it.”

Giuseppe’s eyes filled with tears.

“I am Louis Delacroix. But you will no longer call me ‘Lord,’ ‘Master,’ or ‘Sir.’ From this day on, I stand with you.”

He turned to the refugees on the deck.

“These powers we carry—they are not curses.”

“They are not gifts from devils.”

“They are the legacy of one man’s science—and they will become the strength of a new future.”

The wind howled across the sails. The ship moved forward.

Far away, on the other side of the sea, a small boat rocked gently on silver waves.

Claudio sat hunched, ash in a pouch on his lap, hair unkempt, eyes bloodshot.

He whispered to the wind.

“I have nothing now.”

No friends.

No mentor.

No family.

Except for her.

He looked beside him.

An illusion? A hallucination?

No.

Celine sat in silence, her head resting on his shoulder.

Her form shimmered like moonlight—ghostly, ethereal, beautiful.

Claudio closed his eyes, breathing in the cold night air.

“You were the only one who believed in me,” he murmured. “And I failed you too.”

The boat drifted, carried by the same winds that once lifted birds to the sky.

Entry# 5 End