The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice

A week.

It had been a week since Caspian had started working on deciphering the map.

Every day, he had scoured the estate, piecing together fragments of the puzzle and carefully marking potential leads.

He had studied tirelessly.

Tonight, he would set his plan in motion.

He sat on his bed, his hand tracing the diagram he had recreated.

Knock-Knock.

Caspian flinched.

"Yes?" he replied, quickly folding the parchment and tucking it under his pillow.

"Lady Eleana is calling you to the training hall," the voice on the other side of the door announced.

Caspian froze, dread seeping into his chest.

'Training hall? Why now of all times?' he thought.

His fingers clenched into fists. His plan demanded all his energy; every ounce of focus was needed for tonight.

I can't waste it on pointless drills or—

He sighed.

"Oh, fuck."

His shoulders slumped as he rubbed his face in frustration.

What authority did he even have? He was nothing more than a puppet, dragged around at their whim. Still, he couldn't avoid this.

"I'm coming," he said.

..

The training hall loomed ahead of him as he walked down the corridor.

Pushing the.doors, he stepped inside—

Waiting for him inside were his mother, Eleana, and his two brothers, Eirak and Jaxar.

'Oh, fuck no!.'

The sight of them made his stomach churn.

Jaxar leaned against a rack of wooden practice swords, a smug smirk plastered across his face.

Eirak was sitting casually on the edge of a bench, sharpening a blade that he clearly didn't need for a sparring session.

His mother stood at the center, regal and commanding as ever, her cold eyes fixed on him.

"Mother, you called me?" Caspian asked.

"Yes," Eleana said, tilting her head slightly, her expression unreadable.

"I've been thinking. It's time you proved your worth as an Arkwright."

She gestured towards Jaxar, who straightened up, his smirk widening.

"So," Eleana continued, "you'll duel Jaxar. I want to see where your abilities stand."

Caspian's heart sank.

His palms grew clammy as he tried to find the words to object.

"Mother… I-I'm not quite at their level yet. I'm—"

His words faltered.

He couldn't say it outright, but he knew the truth: he was standing here by sheer chance, alive by nothing short of sheer willpower.

How was he supposed to duel Jaxar, who was leagues above him in strength and skill?

But Eleana's sharp gaze pinned him in place.

"No excuses," she said firmly. "You're an Arkwright. You'll fight."

An Arkwright, Caspian thought bitterly.

Funny how that title only matters when it's convenient for them.

"Come on, little runt," Jaxar taunted, spinning a wooden sword in his hand. "Don't keep me waiting. I've been wanting to knock some sense into that white-haired head of yours."

Caspian's chest tightened. His eyes darted to Eirak, who simply grinned, clearly anticipating the beatdown about to happen.

The weight of inevitability bore down on him.

He stepped forward, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Then began." Eleana's said.

Caspian gripped his wooden practice sword tightly, though it felt heavier than ever.

His knuckles turned white as he took a defensive stance.

Across from him, Jaxar stood casually, his smirk never wavering.

It didn't take long for the outcome to become clear.

CLACK-CLACK

After a mere ten or twelve exchanges, Caspian was on the ground, breathing heavily.

His ribs ached, his legs felt like jelly, and his vision blurred from exhaustion.

"I yield," Caspian gasped, barely able to speak.

Jaxar, however, didn't stop.

"What are you saying?" Jaxar sneered, looming over him.

"It's just started."

THUD.

Jaxar's wooden sword slammed into Caspian's stomach, forcing the air from his lungs.

"Ugh!" Caspian coughed, spitting blood onto the floor.

"Enough," Eleana said sharply, her voice cutting through the room.

Jaxar froze mid-swing, his gaze flickering to his mother.

He grumbled something under his breath and backed off, tossing his wooden sword aside.

Caspian lay there, barely conscious, every inch of his body screaming in pain.

His fingers twitched, and his mind was screaming for help, but he didn't dare speak.

Eleana turned away and began walking out of the training hall.

'She's leaving?' Caspian thought, panic rising in his chest.

'What's going to happen to me now? Don't go.'

But his lips didn't move. He could only watch as her figure grew smaller and smaller.

Behind her, Jaxar took a step toward Caspian again, a gleam of cruelty in his eyes.

And then it started again.

"Ahhh!" Caspian cried out as Jaxar's foot connected with his side.

Another kick. Another blow. Over and over.

"Stop! Stop it, Jaxar!" Caspian's voice was weak, his pleas barely audible.

"Mom, aren't you too cruel?"

The voice came from behind Eleana. Stopping her just as she was about to leave training hall entirely.

She turned around and saw her eldest daughter, Eirlys, standing there, her arms crossed and her expression colder than ice.

"What do you mean?" Eleana asked, narrowing her eyes.

Eirlys took a step forward, her gaze flicking to the scene behind her mother—where Jaxar was still towering over Caspian.

"You're neglecting him completely," Eirlys said, her voice sharp. "Do you, by any chance, want him to die?"

Eleana's lips tightened.

"How dare you. He's my son — I'm showing him his standing." Eleana said.

"You already know he's weak, Mother," Eirlys snapped.

"And you also know why. Unlike us, he never received the same training. We started at the age of five. Has Caspian ever been trained?" Eirlys asked.

".....", Eleana said nothing, her expression unreadable.

"You don't know, do you?" Eirlys continued, her tone growing more accusatory. "He's been in the library for weeks now, reading—"

"What of it?" Eleana interrupted, her voice cutting.

"Forbidden books," Eirlys said, her voice dropping lower. "I saw him reading about forbidden affinities in that dusty old section."

"What?,"Eleana froze, her eyes widening slightly.

"Yes, Mother," Eirlys continued, stepping closer.

"How can you call yourself his mother when you've neglected him so much that he's resorted to such extremes? He's weak because of you, and now he's growing desperate. Desperate enough to delve into curses."

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud.

Eleana's fists clenched at her sides, but she said nothing.

Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"You need to do better," Eirlys said finally, turning away. "Before it's too late."

With that, Eirlys walked toward Caspian, who was lying limp on the floor.

Eleana remained rooted to the spot, her mind churning.

For the first time, doubt began to creep into her cold, calculated demeanor.....