XELIX: A SIN THAT DRAGS
—a shadow that begs to be seen—
A few hours later, in the glowing heart of the city's shopping district, Marva stood stiffly under a cascade of lights, elegant shopping bags clutched in trembling hands. Her skin was pale, her breath shallow. The side effects of Enver's potion hadn't fully faded, but at least she could walk again. Breathe. Pretend, for a while, that she was alive.
Laughter echoed from a group of schoolgirls passing by — backpacks bouncing, voices bright. Marva turned her gaze away.
What would it be like, she wondered, to have a life untouched by curses or contracts?
To go to school. Fail a test. Fall in love. To cry over something normal — not because your soul had been bound to a spiritual executioner.
She tightened her grip on the bags and walked on, past boutique windows that shimmered like dream portals.
But at the far end of the corridor, she stopped.
Two large men were dragging a frail woman out of a building with gold-lettered glass: Madam Zera's House. The woman hit the pavement hard. Something cracked. Maybe a rib. Maybe dignity.
Instinct overrode caution. Marva dropped her bags. Fruit and bread scattered on the floor.
She ran to the woman.
"Are you okay?" she whispered.
But the moment her fingers brushed the woman's arm, a cold shock surged up her bones — like touching a corpse dipped in ice.
The woman didn't respond. Her eyes were hollow. Mascara streaked down bruised cheeks.
Marva pulled away. Her heartbeat thundered. Then she realized: the name card from her pocket had fallen beside the woman's hand.
Enver Eraly – Purificazione Practitioner.
She left it there. And walked away.
---
Back in the shadows, the two thugs loomed over the woman.
"Beat it," one snarled. "Madam doesn't want trash like you around."
The woman sat up, limbs shaking. Her voice was hoarse but clear.
"Just one moment. I want to return this."
From a threadbare pocket, she pulled out a rice ball, wrapped in old banana leaves. She held it like an offering.
"Madam gave me this… when I had nothing. I never ate it. I kept it… as a promise. I'm bringing it back."
The first man kicked the rice ball into the gutter.
"You think a moldy snack makes up for your sins, Xelix?"
Then came another shove. Another fall. Another silent scream swallowed in the alley dust.
---
That night, Xelix wandered the streets.
In her hand: the name card. The only thing untouched by dirt or blood.
She didn't know who Enver Eraly was. But the name echoed in her bones like a prayer.
Her tiny room reeked of mildew. The walls peeled like skin. Her mirror had long cracked.
She sat on the floor. Chest heaving. Vision fading.
Then came the pain.
Her skin itched. Her muscles spasmed. Her spine arched like a bow. Beneath her, the wooden planks creaked — then split.
From the crack slithered a creature — smoke-born, red-eyed, tongue flicking the air.
A serpent of the astral kind. Hunger radiated from it.
Xelix tried to scream, but her throat was dry. Her nails dug into the floor.
And then —
A voice. Cold as winter glass.
> "You're rotting from the inside, Xelix. If you want to live, come to me.
Or let that thing eat what's left of you."
The serpent hissed... and vanished. The room fell silent again.
Only her ragged breathing remained — and the card pressed tightly to her chest.
---
Meanwhile, in a house of glass and silence, Enver Eraly sipped black tea under dim lighting.
His silver-ringed fingers traced the rim of the porcelain cup.
Across from him, Marva scrubbed the marble floor, wearing a lace uniform a size too small. Sweat dripped down her back.
Enver smiled faintly.
"No rest until midnight. No food. No water. You know the rules."
Marva didn't argue. What was the point?
She thought about the woman she helped. About the name card.
> Please… let her find you before it's too late.
Outside, the jasmine tree shed its last bloom.
Enver's eyes narrowed. He felt it — the presence.
> "Ah... she's coming."
---
Near the forest that guarded the city's edge, Xelix stood, shivering.
Every step toward the trees made her body scream. Her skin cracked. Her breath steamed in the night air.
But she kept walking.
> "Your sin isn't hunger," the voice said again, whispering through the bamboo.
"Your sin... is stealing someone else's life to feed your own."
And with each word, visions returned:
A crying child.
A broken mother.
A family ruined — because of her.
Xelix fell to her knees, sobbing into the soil.
> "I didn't mean to… I just wanted to survive…"
No answer.
Only silence.
And a forest path pulsing with light — leading her to the one place that could undo her sins.
Or consume her entirely.