Home / Fantasy / The Secret of the Violet Mark / Chapter 6: Broken Masks
Chapter 6: Broken Masks
Author: Rie
last update2026-08-14 19:43:50

The heavy oak door shuddered under a thunderous kick from the hallway. Splinters rained onto the rug, and the bolt groaned, screaming against the frame.

"Galang, the window!" Bayu hissed, his eyes darting between the door and the thin glass pane.

"We can't go out the window," Galang countered, his blade already drawn and reflecting the violet light of his tether. "They’re waiting in the alley. We have to go through them."

"Through them? Are you insane? That’s Kaelen out there, and he knows every trick in the book."

"Then we change the book."

"You really want to kill your mentor? That’s a bit dramatic even for a guy with a death wish, don’t you think?"

"He’s not my mentor anymore. He’s a snitch."

The door buckled again. Through the wood, Kaelen’s voice rang out, sharp and frantic. "Bayu! Don’t do this! If you come out now, I can talk to Thorne. I can promise you a quick end, at least!"

Bayu gripped his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white. "A quick end? That’s the best you’ve got, Kaelen?"

Galang snorted, leaning back against the bedpost with his twin daggers spinning idly in his fingers. "Wow, what a salesman. Hey, Kaelen, can you throw in a funeral service too? My husband here is feeling a bit sensitive!"

"Shut it, Galang," Bayu barked, though his eyes remained glued to the door.

"Oh, now you’re defending my honor? I’m blushing, Bay."

"I’m defending the fact that he’s distracting me. Take the right flank. If they break through, aim for the legs. I’ll handle Kaelen."

"You sure? You look like you’re about to shake."

"I’m not shaking. I’m waiting."

The wood finally gave way in a cloud of dust and debris. Three guards tumbled into the room, blades drawn. Kaelen followed, his expression a mix of professional resolve and genuine sorrow.

"Move!" Bayu roared.

He didn't wait for them to recover. He lunged, his steel meeting a guard’s blade with a shower of sparks. The narrow room felt like a slaughterhouse as the space turned into a blur of iron.

"Left, you moron!" Galang yelled, ducking under a spear thrust and driving his knee into a guard’s gut.

"I see him!" Bayu countered, parrying Kaelen’s strike with a jarring clang that vibrated through his arm.

Kaelen retreated, his eyes wide. "You’ve gotten sloppy, Bayu! Too much time with the trash!"

"And you’ve gotten comfortable," Bayu snapped, feinting a high cut before shifting his weight to drive a heavy kick into Kaelen’s chest. "You’re reading the old manuals. I’m writing a new one."

Galang laughed, sliding across the blood-slicked floor to trip a guard. "Nice one! Very poetic. Remind me to put that on your tombstone!"

"If you don't shut up, I’m leaving you to the Vanguards," Bayu growled, his blade pinning Kaelen against the wall.

"You wouldn't dare. We’re a package deal, remember?" Galang deflected a blow from his own opponent, his breath hitching. "Besides, you’d miss me in ten minutes."

"Try ten seconds."

"Aww, you really do love me."

Bayu ignored the jab, shoving Kaelen aside and smashing his pommel into the man’s temple. Kaelen slumped to the floor, unconscious.

"One down," Bayu gasped, his chest heaving. "Galang, we need to clear the hall!"

"They’re calling for backup," Galang pointed out, gesturing to the stairs where the shouting grew louder. "There’s at least a dozen more coming up. My daggers are good, but they aren't miracles."

"Through the balcony!" Bayu shoved a heavy dresser toward the door, barricading the hall. "We take the roof."

"The roof? Bayu, it’s a twenty-foot drop to the street."

"Are you going to complain, or are you going to jump?"

"I’m going to complain while I jump!"

They sprinted for the small, wrought-iron balcony. The night air hit them like a cold slap, scented with smoke and the metallic tang of magic. Below, the street was packed with Vanguard soldiers, their violet-tipped bolts glowing in the dark.

"See?" Galang smirked, pointing down. "Told you it was a bad idea. We’re fish in a barrel."

"Then we start a fire." Bayu pulled a small, volatile powder pouch from his belt—a trick of the trade.

"Is that a flash-bang? Here?"

"It’s a distraction. Move!"

Bayu hurled the pouch into the center of the street. A brilliant, searing light engulfed the alley, blinding the soldiers and sending them into a panic.

"Jump!" Bayu screamed.

They leapt into the darkness, landing hard in the soft, mud-caked garden behind the inn. Bayu hit the ground, rolled, and immediately pulled Galang behind a stone well.

"That was… surprisingly efficient," Galang wheezed, clutching his side. The violet mark on his arm pulsed erratically.

"Don't get used to it," Bayu said, his eyes darting toward the perimeter of the village. "We need to get to the tree line."

"Wait, look." Galang pointed toward the village gate.

Thorne was there. He wasn't looking at the chaos they had caused; he was looking directly at the spot where they had landed, his hand glowing with a deep, suffocating shadow.

"He’s tracking us," Bayu whispered, his voice trembling for the first time. "He’s not using his eyes. He’s using the tether."

"Of course he is. He’s the architect of the damn thing."

"We have to split up."

Galang’s smirk faltered. "What did you say?"

"If we’re together, we’re a beacon. He can feel us both. If we split, the resonance might dampen."

"Bayu, don’t be an idiot. If we split, we die alone. The tether—"

"The tether will hold for a few minutes," Bayu interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Galang, listen to me. I’ll draw him south, toward the river. You take the north ridge. We meet at the abandoned mill in the marshes. Tonight. No matter what."

"And if you don't make it?"

Bayu looked at him, his gaze intense. "Then you keep running. You’re the thief, remember? You’re better at disappearing than I am."

"I don’t want to disappear without you."

Bayu reached out, his hand hovering over Galang’s arm before he pulled it away. "Go. Now."

"Bayu—"

"Go!"

Galang hesitated, his eyes searching Bayu’s face for a flicker of doubt. When he found none, he nodded, his own expression turning cold and sharp. "The mill, Bay. You better be there."

"I’ll be there."

Galang turned and vanished into the shadows of the alley, moving with a grace that was almost supernatural. Bayu waited until he was gone, then stood up, drawing his sword and letting the violet light of his mark flare brightly—a clear, beckoning signal to the hunter.

"Over here, Thorne!" Bayu shouted, his voice echoing through the silent, frightened village.

Thorne turned, his gaze locking onto Bayu. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face.

Bayu turned and ran, his boots pounding against the earth, the tether humming a frantic, lonely rhythm in his chest. But as he reached the corner of the final house, a surge of raw, magical pressure slammed into the air around him.

The world tilted. Gravity seemed to liquefy.

Bayu scrambled, but the shadows rose up like living oil, pinning his limbs. He looked back, desperate to see if Galang had made it, but the path was gone. A wall of obsidian energy sat between them, a jagged, pulsing rift that grew wider by the second.

"Galang!" he screamed.

From the other side of the wall, a faint, desperate voice drifted through the static. "Bayu! I can’t reach the ridge! The tether—it’s pulling me back!"

"Fight it!" Bayu roared, struggling against the shadow-bonds. "Run to the mill!"

"I can’t! Bayu, it’s not letting me move!"

The wall of energy began to collapse inward, sucking the air out of the village. Bayu felt his body being dragged toward the center of the rift.

"Galang! Don't let go!"

"I’m trying!" Galang’s voice was fading, pulled by a force stronger than their own will.

With one final, bone-crushing jolt, the tether snapped taut. The force was so immense that it felt like their souls were being torn from their bodies.

Bayu looked up to see a dark figure stepping through the rift, his hand raised. It was Vesper, his mask leaking that familiar, sickening violet liquid.

"The reunion is over," Vesper whispered, his voice vibrating in Bayu’s skull.

The rift pulsed white, and then, with a sound like a world shattering, the ground beneath Bayu vanished. He fell into an endless, suffocating void, and as he hit the freezing dark, the last thing he felt was the silence where Galang’s heartbeat should have been.

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