I knew it was not the right time, and I knew that what I was about to do was the most foolish act a human could commit. But the situation I was trapped in forced me to throw myself into the abyss without hesitation or second-guessing. If their greatest fear was "Joseph," then I would bring him back and expose every plan they had woven against him in the shadows.
It seemed I had decided to fight evil with an even greater evil, realizing that "good" would never conquer this darkness no matter how hard I tried. I was becoming one of them; I was tainting my very soul to be the reason for the revival of a monster who had once broken my neck and crushed my throat. Yet, my mind screamed that this was the only exit. If my death was inevitable, let it be while I was trying to save an unborn child and a mother being led to the slaughter. I chose my own way to die; instead of waiting for Sauntra's sorcerers to slit my throat, I would meet my end on my own terms.
I took advantage of everyone being preoccupied with the party—even the guards and servants were drowned in the glow of the celebration, leaving the back garden unguarded. I rushed to my room, opened the forbidden book, and began searching through the incantations of summoning and renewal. The symbols were difficult and ancient, overflowing with a power I couldn't comprehend, until I found a spell that seemed manageable due to its relative brevity. it required no elaborate rituals, only the chanting of unintelligible words and the most terrifying condition: drops of my own blood spilled upon his grave.
A wave of revulsion and terror washed over me; I felt filthy just thinking about it. I couldn't understand why humans fled toward such grim, fictional horrors, but I steeled myself. I carried the book and slipped away toward the graveyard. The air was biting, and the darkness wrapped around the place in an eerie silence, while the distant party lights struck the sky and the muffled sounds of music drifted through the air.
I remembered Orosagi's discouraging words—that I wasn't a witch and my attempts would fail—which made despair gnaw at my heart. But I didn't stop. I took a knife and placed it against my palm, trembling with the fear of hurting myself, and began to mutter the strange, heavy dialect written in the book:
"Mirasa Izmir Vika, Shabka Noreez, Mirasa Izmir Vira, Shabka Nozeer..."
I stumbled over the words with difficulty as the blade sliced through my skin, allowing my blood to flow directly onto his name carved into the cold marble. Suddenly, as the words left my throat, I burst into a violent fit of coughing, spitting blood into the air. I fell to my knees on the grass, tasting the bitterness of copper and feeling a searing pain tearing through my throat. This was the result of practicing magic without being a sorceress; it recoiled upon the caster. It felt as if the words themselves were blades cutting my throat on their way out.
I raised my eyes, searching for a sign, but the graveyard remained still. Joseph did not appear. There was nothing but the cold wind brushing through my hair in that haunting silence. I felt a crushing sense of failure, fearing I had lost my voice and my life for a hollow attempt.
Suddenly... as he always does... he surprised me. The grave split open.
I scrambled backward, crawling in terror. The sight was horrific—the earth was tearing apart before me as if an earthquake were hitting the heart of the cemetery. Was he truly waking up? I began to realize the gravity of the situation; this wasn't a temporary return like the Saturday spirits Sauntra summoned. It seemed I had overshot the mark and awakened the body itself.
The wind surged violently, extinguishing the candles around me, and the pages of the book fluttered wildly. From beneath the soil, two large, mud-stained hands emerged, pushing aside the rubble with terrifying slowness, until his massive frame hauled itself completely out of the earth.
His face wasn't exactly as I remembered; the scars were more prominent, more visceral. His clothes were soiled with dirt but looked strangely new. He let out a wicked, triumphant laugh as he inspected his body, as if he couldn't believe he was back. In that moment, I realized my own stupidity; I had brought back the merciless "Joseph," and now I would be his first victim.
I kept crawling away in a panic while he laughed and touched his hands, until his gaze landed on me. The blood froze in my veins as our eyes met. His smile vanished, and my body went completely numb; I tried to stand and run, but my legs betrayed me.
"You...?" he said, raising an eyebrow in pure bewilderment, his gaze piercing through me.
I wanted to speak, but my tongue was paralyzed as well. He turned his head to see the extinguished candles and the book lying on the grass, then turned back to me with even greater shock.
"You are the one who brought me back...?"
I nodded my head rapidly, a gesture filled with plea and fear.
"How...?" he asked, his confusion lingering.
I didn't quite understand the depth of his question, but I felt my tongue loosen suddenly, and words poured out of me in a frantic rush: "Sauntra intends to kill you because you killed her sister! She brought Regina here to have a son from you first, to make him an heir, and then she will get rid of you and—"
"How did you do this?" he interrupted sharply, his eyebrow still arched. He was more interested in the mechanics of his resurrection than the conspiracy against his life. He ignored every warning I gave and repeated his question with cold intensity.
I answered him tremulously, pointing my shaking hand toward the book: "With the book..."
Despite my gesture, his eyes remained fixed on my face with a terrifying, invasive focus. I closed my eyes and knelt on the ground, surrendering to fate, waiting for death... then, a third voice cut through the silence.
"Your Majesty..."
I raised my head to see Orosagi kneeling before him, bowing his head to the ground and extending his hand with profound respect, as if before a sacred deity. I was stunned; how did he get in here? Didn't he say Sauntra's barriers prevented any sorcerer from entering?
"We are overjoyed at your return..." Orosagi said with calm reverence.
Joseph etched his trademark wicked smile onto his face, looking down at his old servant and saying in a mocking tone, "Is this how you atone for your mistake?"
"I am ready to be punished for what I have done," Orosagi murmured quietly, his tone dripping with absolute submission.
Joseph didn't even bother to turn around fully. He merely cast a cold, side-long glance toward the man kneeling behind him, as if Orosagi didn't deserve the effort of a complete turn.
"Everything has changed now, Felix," Joseph said in a calm, yet heavy voice.
"I am Orosagi, my lord, not Felix," the servant corrected him, his voice cautious, as if reminding a king who had lost track of time.
"It doesn't matter. All of you are pathetic," Joseph replied with clear disgust, as if names were irrelevant compared to their insignificance in his eyes.
I watched them both in silence, not daring to interfere, waiting for whatever fate he would decree for me. Then, he fixed his gaze on me again and spoke to Orosagi: "Take care of her. I have business to finish in the manor, then I will return."
In the blink of an eye, Joseph vanished from before me. His massive frame dissipated, leaving nothing but swirling smoke where he had stood. It was another terrifying spectacle to witness.
I turned my head toward Orosagi, only to find him already standing and moving quickly toward me. I parted my lips to speak, but before a word could escape, his hand shot out from beneath his cloak and pressed firmly against my head.
And then...
The world vanished...
Total darkness...
A deep, bottomless sleep....