Riven carried me out of that collapsing cell like a charming prince rescuing his lover.
The hard muscle of his chest pressed against my back, steady and unyielding. It felt… safe, almost comforting — like being shielded by a power I didn't yet understand.
Minutes passed before we finally landed in a vast forest.
Fresh air brushed my face, and the sound of birds and rushing water somewhere nearby wrapped around me like a soft melody. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe. I felt free — calm, almost at peace.
Then I looked at Riven.
Unlike me, he wasn't calm at all. His body was tense, his dark eyes locked onto mine, his forehead furrowed in irritation. His lips pressed together, trembling slightly — as if holding back words he didn't want to say.
I broke the silence.
"Thank you… for saving my life."
He didn't look away.
"I saved you from them," he said quietly. "Now tell me—who's going to save you from me?"
My heart skipped, but I forced a smile. "I'll offer you something better than a reason to kill me. I'll offer you entertainment — and a purpose. I'm going to make you love the life you're trying so hard to reject."
Riven's expression twisted. He gave a bitter smile, and for a moment I swore I saw the glint of a tear in his eyes.
"Who are you to give me a purpose?" he said softly. "You're pathetic. You never even knew what you wanted from life. Always lonely. I know your little secret — whenever you look at the sky, you wish you had the courage to throw yourself from the rooftop."
His words cut deep — because they were true.
I'd never truly loved living. It always felt meaningless, empty. Maybe that's why death never scared me. But what terrified me now was realizing Riven had been watching me for years.
I swallowed hard. "Whenever I looked at the sky," I said, voice trembling, "I didn't want to die. I just… wanted a reason not to. I told myself that as long as the sky looked beautiful, I'd live for one more day. And lucky me — it always did."
I met his gaze, steady this time.
"That's why I'm still here. That's why I'm standing in front of you. I want to live. And if I can still want that… then I can make you want it too."
I gathered my courage and said, "Here's the deal: you'll be my shield and my power, and I'll be the purpose of your life. You said you wanted my death — then don't watch from the cheap seats. Be part of it. Make it personal. That way it'll be worth watching for both of us."
Riven's face hardened, then softened into something almost like shame. "I can't interfere openly in Sylyncia's affairs by force — I'm Upper Class," he said, voice dropping. He looked embarrassed as if the admission tasted bad. "I can't give you powers the way the other Upper Class members gave powers to the others." He pressed his lips together, a small, almost childlike movement that made him look… smaller.
I liked that. A grown man with that kind of expression was easier to handle — the threats and cruelty were a mask.
Powers aren't what I needed, I thought. I needed information. To dominate this world I needed pawns. I needed to build my own empire.
"Tell me," I said aloud, keeping my voice steady as I listed quick and sharp, "who are the Upper Class? How can I kill them? What about the Hollows — where do they hide? Can I reach the Underworld? Are they truly dangerous?"
Riven blinked, stunned, as if I'd just said something impossible.
"Why are you interested in the Hollows? And why would you want to kill the Upper Class? That's impossible anyway," he said, incredulous.
I smirked. "You can't grant me power, and you can't meddle openly in Sylyncia. So I'll exploit the Hollows—use their hatred as my army and their war as my weapon."
I paused, then added, "And by the way, you did save me from that cell — which means you can interfere in this world. So tell me, what are your limits?"
Riven tilted his head back and laughed — loud, wild, unrestrained.
"HHHHHHH… Vita, you really are a show worth the price," he said, still smiling like a man who'd finally found something entertaining.
Then, with a hint of amusement in his voice, he continued, "The Upper Class can be killed. How? That's for you to figure out. I can only use about five percent of my power here. And as for the Underworld… even if you managed to get there, you wouldn't survive a minute. So forget about it."
Before I could open my mouth, he added, his voice suddenly sharp again, "I won't tell you anything else — not until you make me feel something."
Feel something?
What did he mean? Thrill? Excitement? Love?
The thought lingered, heavy and confusing, until a harsh sound broke through my mind — ragged, uneven breathing behind me.
I turned.
A boy lay on the ground, covered in blood, barely alive. His eyes met mine, desperate and bright with relief.
He whispered, voice trembling, "I finally found you… my owner."