《Deliver Us: Exordium》


 Chapter One: Nicodemus

    ¡°For dust you are, and to dust you shall return.¡±


    - Book of Genesis NKJV 3:19


    "My mother is back!" the prince screamed down the halls. Startled, the maid dropped the fruit that was being carried in a bowl. A loud clash was heard throughout the halls, Nicodemus winced from the noise. "I apologize." running over to help, the floor stained from berries under his feet.


    "Your highness, I will take care of this. Please go wash your feet." She tried her best to hide her annoyance. Nicodemus instantly felt guilty. Shyly he nodded and handed her the empty bowl of fruit. He did not usually annoy the maids, he honestly tried to leave them alone. It had been six months and he was terribly bored. With great boredom comes great frustration and Nicodemus was eager to see the empress. He knew sneaking out would not be easy.


    The guards usually took their afternoon break around noon, he would easily be able to slip out then. Nicodemus wore a simple outfit, one he would wear when going out for a hunt; once the guards walked away he sprinted out.


    The forest''s of Avernita became somewhat of a home for Nicodemus. He could recognize pathways, he learned its caves, he knew which plants and trees grew along the banks and mountains. Running along a hidden trail, the path became barely visible and all the colors blended in with one another. If he looked, he would end up becoming unsteady; if he looked down Nicodemus would probably miss a step and trip over a root on the ground. The forest seemed almost alive, with each tree and plant having its own soul. That was his favorite thing about running in it, he would pretend to run along with children and animals all the time as a young child.


    On the other hand, when running in between trees and bushes one had to focus, he tested his self-awareness, his surroundings and his abilities to duck or jump when an obstacle presented itself. Nicodemus felt his heart racing out of his chest. He was definitely excited.


    The sun shone between the trees¡¯ golden leaves, it was the scenery he most enjoyed. He kept his pace. The further and deeper into the green abyss he got, the more he could hear the natural sounds of small twigs snapping, the crunch of dried up leaves and the cicadas'' loud, high-pitched clicks and buzzing. He could hear his own gasps for air, his quick breaths.


    As a child, Nicodemus spent a lot of time out here. It was the place where he learned to hunt, studied the land and its rivers, the flora and fauna. He and his mother would come down and camp every spring. They would spend days to weeks together. She was an intelligent and studied woman as she could name every plant or creature according to its kind. She was alluring and mysterious as the woods. Her eyes, the color of the greenest leaves, and her skin shone bronze in the light. Nicodemus was practically raised outside growing up, his mother preferred him to learn by experiencing things himself. When curiosity struck and he reached for a thorn it would only take one prick for him to learn ¡®That¡¯s sharp, I did not enjoy how that felt.¡¯ His father on the other hand preferred him to read books.


    ¡°You have the privilege of being able to study, to own books, and to read, to write. Don¡¯t waste this blessed opportunity, boy. One day you¡¯ll ascend to the throne, a knowledgeable king will always be more valued than one who is only physically capable.¡± He would constantly recite as if saying a prayer. The best way to keep both parents pleased, to young Nicodemus, was for him to read outside, rain or shine, hot or cold he would run away for hours in the day to sit and admire the world that surrounded him. Eventually, the royal guard would be sent out on behalf of the Emperor to remind him that he in fact had a home to return to.


    The sea shore was just beyond a natural arch formed by the cypresses. His mother was scheduled to return home on this day. She hasn¡¯t been home lately, at least not as much as before. He knew it was best to not question her on where she went. It was always the same response she would give him, ¡°You¡¯ll find out when you¡¯re older.¡± Tomorrow was his twentieth birthday, which meant he was a year closer to becoming emperor. Once he was crowned, she would have to take him on her adventures. Nicodemus could count on his hands the times he had left Avernita, none in fact. Although Nicodemus was almost twenty, he had a lot of studying to take care of. He did not know much about his family or for that matter, who his mother truly was.


    "I am your mother, that¡¯s all that is important for now!" she would say. Which was true, there was not much he could question. She was his mother, he was the crown prince and as long as he kept his grades up and read his books, becoming emperor wouldn''t be so hard for him.


    Empress Silas¡¯ military ship was heard docking by the shore. Nicodemus came to a halt a few feet away from the exit. Swiftly fixing and lacing up his boots, he flattened his shirt to ensure he had the best appearance of a prince, not some young man that ran a few miles in the woods. Nicodemus took his hair and braided it just enough to get the hair out of his face. Cautiously, he made his way forward. The ecstatic voices of sailors filled the shore, many looked exhausted and wished only to greet their families. Being out in sea for six months¡ªas of today ¡ªthey all deserved some rest. He wished he could be one of them, a sailor who would leave for months or years and see all the sea creatures and explore the deepest and furthest parts of the ocean. Nicodemus wanted to travel, he wanted to be emperor.


    Peaking out from behind a bush, he tried to get a glimpse of his mother. She was never hard to miss, she was a tall woman. He planned to sneak up on her and tackle her with warm affection. His eyes gazed across the beach and on the ship when he finally caught a familiar face, his mother relived herself from the heavy armor. Behind her followed Lieutenant Samyaza. Nicodemus has known Samyaza since birth, as he was his mother¡¯s right hand man. He took his cape off along with carrying his helmet. Both seemed tired, Samyaza for once had his hair down, it flowed over his shoulders like golden falls. The empress stopped in her tracks, she quickly found Nicodemus hiding in the bushes, she always had a good eye, smiling the empress waved at him. She walked down to the sand before suddenly pausing to look at the sky.


    Nicodemus got up and made his way over, he tilted his head slightly in confusion after she made eye contact with him, her eyes darkened, fear washed over her face. Quickly she reached for her sword, getting on guard for an unseen threat. Samyaza seemed to notice it as well, they both looked at one another as if they were both confirming what they saw.


    "Run!¡± He heard his mother scream. She turned to Samyaza who already had his sword in hand, and gestured to Nicodemus. Something was terribly wrong. The air around him turned cold, he froze on the spot watching the sky. Gradually, the colors shifted around him. Dark red cloud came down from above, a hail storm of fire erupted from the heavens. Nicodemus took a step forward, covering his head with his hands, in need of cover. A blaring trumpet roared, the sound was absolutely unbearable and shook the ground. The soldiers¡¯ ears started to bleed as they desperately covered them from the sound. He called out for his mother before thunder was heard and bright red lightning hit the sand, the heat sent shards of glass in all directions from the impact. The soldiers were petrified, turning into stone and lastly, becoming dust carried in the wind. His mother ran to him, giving him one kiss before she pushed him away. Nicodemus fell on the ground and covered his face, he felt a wave of worry. He got up, picking up a soldier¡¯s sword, he wanted to fight and help his mother.


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you listening to me? GO HOME! Samyaza, take him away!" She commanded, putting on her helmet and charging into the dust cloud. The sound of the blades colliding was loud before suddenly, he heard one last scream. His world rapidly zoomed in. He was hyperaware of the surroundings, the metal sword that hit her armor, the small thud of skin, and the drops of blood falling on the sand and how it absorbed it. A towering giant with wings made of blood stood between them. The giant turned, revealing a mechanical golden arm, his skin dark with long dreaded hair, despite that, the thing that would haunt Nicodemus for eternity, his eyes, alone they carried the world¡¯s fire.


    ¡°Be not afraid.¡± His voice was haunting, deep and husk. The giant reached down and picked the empress''s head off the sand, soon crushing it with his metal arm. ¡°You are DUST, and to dust you shall return.¡± Blood gushed from his palms.


    Samyaza ran to Nicodemus, ¡°Your highness, let¡¯s go.¡± He picked the boy up, dark black wings ripped the back of his shirt, and he bolted with the him in his arms. Nicodemus¡¯ hands clutched onto the man¡¯s arms, ¡°M-my my mother- SAMYAZA WHAT HAPPENED TO MY MOTHER! Let me go! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!¡± He held the boy tighter in his arms. A red flash followed behind. The giant man extended his arms, catching and pulling on Samyaza''s wings.


    ¡°Give me the Sword!¡± he commanded, his voice was the sound of the thunder, it was loud and hurt Nicodemus'' ears.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have it!¡± Samyaza blared, pulling his wings out of his grip, he reached below on his belt and grabbed a bottle of fiery liquid, chucking it at the giant¡¯s face. There was a roar and thunder struck the earth. Nicodemus covered his ears again. There was a loud ringing in his ears, and his temples ached with pain. He couldn''t stand any more noise, it was all too loud for him.


    "May the lord rebuke you, Samyaza.¡± The giant¡¯s hair covered half his face. His wings spread out, cutting down the trees on the earth like saws of blood. The giant seemed in pain. He glanced upward before charging his way back into the sky.


    ¡°Your highness,¡± Samyaza placed Nicodemus on a soft patch of grass. ¡°He¡¯s gone. Are you alright?¡± His wings returned to his back and disappeared, the only trace left was the holes in his shirt as he fell over, catching himself on the ground.


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    ¡°Who was that? Tell me who that is!¡± Nicodemus commanded. Samyaza sighed, not able to speak. The two of them stared at each other, both processing everything they had witnessed. Nicodemus¡¯ heart began to ache, tears filled his eyes. The cicadas got louder, how he now wished they would just for once, ¡°SHUT UP!¡± He closed his eyes and covered his ears.


    ¡°STOP! STOP THE NOISE, PLEASE.¡± His voice cracked, everything turned dark, the trees, the ground, and the sky. Nicodemus¡¯ world became a pandemonium of fear, chaos, and questions. He wanted to flee this place, all the same the earth held his feet still.


    ¡°Your highness, let¡¯s go home, and I will explain as much as I can. We can¡¯t stay here.¡± The boy nodded, he wiped his tears and stepped behind Samyaza. He didn¡¯t want to think. He wanted to cry.


    ¡°A prince should never let the world see his tears.¡± He could hear his mom say. Her voice haunted him, her screams and lastly, the fact that he would never hug her again. Nicodemus hated the beach. He hated the color red. Lastly, after that event, he came to despise everything about the forest.


    Guards and maid rushed the boy into the infirmary. There was chaos in the castle, whispers filled the halls and the corners of every room. Nicodemus laid in his bed, a nurse would periodically check on his breathing, his pulse. His world had become meaningless and filled with darkness. Avernita needed a king, the staff talked among themselves.


    ¡°He¡¯s too young.¡± They repeated. He turned his body over in the bed and covered his ears and head. He couldn¡¯t sleep that night, his eyes stung from the tears and the migraines only got worse. The evening passed and the morning came, this was the first day.


    It was hard to get the young prince to do anything these days. He would be washed with a cloth and warm water, the empress'' ladies in waiting would brush his hair, brush his teeth and make sure he had at least two meals a day. He didn¡¯t leave the room often, he would sit in bed, look out the window and sleep. It had become common for him to wake up screaming in fear, a nurse would run to him and calm him down before sedating him once again. Nightmares filled his dreams, the giant¡¯s glowing eyes, his mother¡¯s head. He hated the night.


    Years before, Nicodemus preferred this hour, the world was silent, nonetheless it was always calm. He would sit by the fire place, pull out a book and read. It wouldn¡¯t be a rare occasion for a maid or a servant to scoop him up and place him in bed. He was close with the staff, most of them knew him since birth. They¡¯ve chased him around the castle, taught him math, astrology, and many more wonders. He was used to the soft whispers and smiles. Now the halls were filled with emptiness.


    Today, the bishop visited, which would mean coronation day was coming. His mother¡¯s portrait was covered with a black cloth, the sign of death. Nicodemus'' eyes widened when saw a young maid preparing to take the portrait down, he felt his heart drop and anger arose. The boy ran over, pulling the girl¡¯s hands off, causing her to drop a corner of the frame onto the ground. Gasping, he looked up at her, she didn''t say a word. Nicodemus quickly let her arm go and ran back into his room. He slammed and locked the doors, before running into a corner and hugging his knees. Although it didn''t harm the girl, Nicodemus had never laid hand on anyone before. A feeling of intense guilt filled his chest. He vowed internally to apologize to her tomorrow. Once the sun began to set, and there was no longer any light in the room, he laid back in bed. Evening passed, morning came, the sixth day.


    The sun shone on Nicodemus¡¯ face. It was a bright morning, birds began to chirp. The world broke his heart, he saw a small painting of his mother and himself, ¡°Even though you have passed, and my world came to a halt. How can the sun still shine another day?¡± He stared down at the floor, today he would be crowned the new emperor of Avernita.


    The girl from last night didn''t make eye contact with him when the other maids walked in, he stared at her trying to find the right words to say.


    "Forgive me, however, can you remind me of your name?" he asked. The girl was much shorter than him, he noticed her neatly done hair, her clean clothes and the freckles on her nose. He hadn''t ever paid attention to the younger staff, nevertheless she looked to be about his age or maybe a bit older. The girl seemed to think for a moment before looking up at him.


    "Your highness, my name is Ruth."


    "Ruth. I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I-"


    "You don''t have to apologize! It was my mistake."


    "Despite that, I do, my mother- if she was here, she would be upset if I didn''t use the manners I was taught." he smiled, Ruth stared at him, she fidgeted with her hands before softly nodding. Nicodemus leaned down to make eye contact with her. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pink ribbon, he had made sure to grab one of his mother¡¯s old hair ribbons before meeting with the girl. Ruth paused in action.


    "Your hair needed some color. It was my mother¡¯s, if you do not like it, you can take it off after." he reached over her and tied a small bow on her ponytail. Ruth softly smiled and bowed to him. Nicodemus liked Ruth, she felt warm to him like someone who he would want as a friend. He didn''t have many friends. Matter of fact he did not have any at all. Ruth would become his first friend, his best friend. Nicodemus made a small mental note to look for her after coronation, inviting her to dinner and to learn more about Ruth. He smiled one last time, waving goodbye, she bowed and said, "Goodbye, your highness."


    Coronation day was supposed to be the best day of his life, the day he could officially join meetings, the day he gained freedom, the day his mother would look at him not only as her son, but as an emperor. Today felt long, although the morning has just started he couldn''t wait for it to be over. Samyaza knocked on the door frame before letting himself in. He seemed weak and tired. His hair was up in a bun, and did not look like a second in command of an emperor, for all that rather a peasant. Nicodemus cleared his throat, this was definitely a first for him too.


    "You dress up well." Samyaza said, it was clear he was trying to lighten the mood.


    "I¡¯ve been told, my mother picked this out for me years ago."


    "Green suit, Gold detailing¡­ that¡¯s all her."


    ¡°Yeah... Sam you look really bad."


    "Ha. It¡¯s been a while since you called me that, nonetheless I know. I¡¯ll get ready soon enough.¡± Samyaza walked to Nicodemus and embraced him in a hug, he sighed and hugged him back. A week had passed since Empress Silas¡¯ death. Samyaza would now be under Nicodemus, he would be his second in command. It was always weird to him, he always thought his mother would rule by his side. Eventually when the empress retired then alone he would rule Avernita, except now he has become the face of the empire.


    "Sam, go get rest. Your presence will be excused tonight. You look awful." he smiled before letting the man go. Samyaza nodded in agreement, he stretched his arms in the air before turning slightly to wave goodbye.


    Nicodemus finished getting ready, he finished lacing up his sleeves, lacing his boots and brushing his hair. He sat in front of the mirror, he needed a hair cut, his hair being just past his chest. Before his mother died she had kissed his head, he touched the spot on his head as if trying to remember the feeling one last time. He couldn''t dare to cut his hair now, not the same hair his mother had touched and brushed since he was a young boy.


    ¡°Your majesty, forgive me if I have startled you. There has been a break-in in the palace, we need you to report downstairs in the judgment hall. If you don¡¯t feel like dealing with it, I can call up Sam-"


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there. Samyaza should rest.¡± Nicodemus gestured the guard to leave. He bowed and silently made his way out. He massaged his temples in exhaustion, as he did not want to deal with this. He was now the emperor. Nicodemus was the last order of law in Avernita and his first action as ruler was to pass judgement on an infamous fool who decided to break into his home.   "Happy birthday to me. Idiot, who even decides to break into a palace on the coronation day?" He slowly made his way down stairs, passing more guards. Before turning a corner he heard a soft, pleading voice.


    ¡°Please! The emperor is probably tired, do us both a favor and forget this ever happened.¡± There were chains rattling, Nicodemus heard the noise of a whip clashing on skin, and a grunt. He felt chills down his spine, the sound of the whip reminded him too much of the lighting crash. He instinctively covered his ears and dropped down to his knees, he took deep breaths before being able to collect himself again.


    ¡°Let you go? Forget this happened? What kind of fools do you take us for?¡± Another whip clashed, Nicodemus flinched at the noise this time. He hated it, his heart began to race. He took a deep breath, trying his best to keep his temper. He walked in.


    ¡°Your majesty?"


    ¡°SILENCE!¡± The guard flashed his whip on the man.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough! Put the whip down! That¡¯s an order.¡± Nicodemus extended his hand in a halt. ¡°State your name.¡± He commanded. He got closer to the man in chains. Nicodemus paid attention to his face, his two toned eyes, one storm grey and one a deep blue, his hair was white and silver and he had super pale skin. The man looked rather young, almost his age.


    ¡°Micah. My name is Micah de Alvonia. You must be his royal majesty? Congratulations on the crown."

 Chapter Two: Micah

    "I care not where my body may take me,


    as long as my soul is embarked on a meaningful journey."


    - Dante Alighieri


    <hr>


    Nicodemus did not respond; he stared him down, crossing his arms, the look on his face spoke a simple word, ''Annoyed''. Micah tried to get up¡ªeven he knew it was impolite to not face the emperor¡ªall the same he was pulled down by the chains on both his wrists and waist. He fell on his knees in response with his chest and face hitting the floor, he grunted before turning his head over. Blood dripped out of his nose and stained the entire left side of his face. Nicodemus kept his eyes on him, with a curious expression, almost as if expecting him to react violently after being pulled to the floor. Testing a man¡¯s pride always had a result, except when your chances of winning or getting away with something were little to nothing. He¡¯d rather keep the little dignity he had left.


    The guards waited for a command, the man holding the whip placed his boot on Micah''s back. Squatting down, the emperor tapped the guard''s boot off. He leaned his head slightly and made eye contact with Micah. Micah hated eye contact, he also wasn''t much of a fan of the emperor''s green eyes. They looked sad, gloomy even. Nicodemus had a few distinguishing facial features; his high bridged nose that slightly curved downward, the mole under his left eye, his skin was loved by the sun and he had dark black hair. Nicodemus was tall, with an athletic build he was elegant, and he carried himself in such a manner, that of someone with high status and nobility.


    "You are Alvonian? Which house do you come from?" Nicodemus finally spoke, it caught Micah almost by surprise, he blinked a few times before realizing the question just asked required an answer. He knew better then to act up now, if he behaved, a boot would not be set on his back. Being a personal step stool was another stab at his ego, and Micah had a huge ego at that.


    "Power." he responded carefully. Micah made sure not to answer to fast, nor too loud.


    "House of Power? What''s your reason for entering my home? You certainly don''t have any business here." He got up and crossed his arms still looking down. Micah rolled his eyes and spit a blood clot out his mouth, accidentally having it land on the Nicodemus'' boot. Nicodemus peeped down at the spit and sighed, the air in the room turned dark. Micah felt a soft form of satisfaction, nevertheless he did try to hold it back from showing.


    "I do, for I needed a word with her majesty."


    "She''s dead, whatever you must speak to her, you can say to me"


    "How tragic. Avernita broke the treaty of peace with Alvonia, seems to be your late mother¡¯s fault." he frowned, quickly he felt a boot stomp his upper back, holding him down again. The guard pulled the chains up and Micah''s arms snapped causing them to dislocate.


    There was a loud scream. Nicodemus turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, his hands became fists. Micah gasped, staying on the ground from the pain, his eyes widened as he gritted his teeth. The pain was so sudden and unbearable. His cheeks and back felt hot. The guard pulled the whip out and snapped it in the air before aiming it to Micah. Nicodemus winced from the sound alone forcing him to react by quickly catching the whip mid-air before it touched the man¡¯s back. Micah closed his eyes expecting a stinging pain, yet the emperor pulled it away making his hand bleed. The leather marked his arm up like vine.


    "Your majesty, my apologies, sir-" the guard swiftly removed his foot off of Micah, backing away into a corner, he started to tremble in fear. Hitting someone of any high status was unthinkable, usually resulting in life in prison, yet hitting the emperor, death himself would open the doors for you.


    "I said, that''s enough!" Nicodemus hissed, "First, you disobeyed my orders. Second, did I tell you to dislocate this man''s arms?" He rubbed his own arm seeing the red marks from the whip. The guard fell to his knees bowing down. He was shaking in fear unable to say a word.


    "Answer me." Nicodemus commanded, his voice was harsh and it echoed in the room. Micah flinched, he turned slightly, and looked at the guard. Nicodemus, stepped over Micah on


    the floor, now having his back to him, he felt almost guarded. The same way a hungry dog protects its meal. His eyes made their way to the the emperor¡¯s arm and hand. ''The fuck? He caught the whip for me.'' Micah thought. He stayed quiet, not once did he think the emperor would have such a reaction, especially for someone who did break into his home. Perhaps he just hated being disobeyed, even if by his own men.


    Micah''s pain became numb, he couldn''t escape as he had no way of getting up. His body ached from being whipped and tossed around earlier. The emperor''s men and guard were extremely rough with him, catching him almost blindsided, covering his mouth with cloth and throwing him onto the concrete. He didn''t know what was worse or scarier: Nicodemus or his men. Micah felt conflicted; just a few minutes ago, he was being yelled at, and beaten to a bloody pulp. Now, he was protected? No, that couldn''t be it, he felt confused, it all felt too much like a fever dream. Obviously, getting hit in the head and losing an almost deadly amount of blood causes one to hallucinate.


    "Your Highness, we will lock him up for disobeying you. Thomas, for touching his royal highness in malicious intent you have now been sentenced to death by Avernita''s law." a guard spoke up, he turned and glanced down at Micah. "And what punishment must this scumbag face?" He motioned his group to pick up the guard who was now finally named, locking him in similar chains. Micah definitely didn''t like the sudden mood switch, Thomas and this new guard, were sharing a laugh and taking turns with the whip. Now, that papa bear is in the room, like feuding siblings they are quick to betray one another for the sake of not getting yelled at.


    "No. One month in prison, I do not need someone else passing away this week, as for the Alvon, take him to my personal physician, Buer. Have his arms placed back, just make sure to cover his mouth, the last thing I want to hear is screaming. After, lock him up in a guest room." Nicodemus turned to look at Micah.


    "Consider this an apology. Freed you are not, nonetheless you did not deserve all that." Nicodemus stepped over Micah again, signaling everyone to get moving, he leaned and whispered something to the new guard, there was a nod and a bow. Micah kept his gaze on Nicodemus, both relieved no further damage was done to him, although absolutely terrified of what possibly awaited him next. He felt his blood dripping down, his back was wet and the cuts stung worse now that he had let his guard down.


    The men swiftly picked him up, he felt his skin being unpeeled from the floor, blood dripped down his neck and more onto his shirt. Micah felt light headed, even more confused yet relaxed, the two men carried him in a gentle manner, the complete opposite of the way he was brought into this entire mess. A sharp stabbing pain hit his neck, he groaned in pain. The pain extended downward to his upper spine and onto his shoulders, he lost all control where is head landed. Micah closed his eyes, trying his hardest to ignore the ache that took over his entire body. He was alive, that''s all that mattered to him, perhaps he would soon meet death, although for now he was alive. In conclusion, he did not know which option was worse.


    . . .


    Micah wasn¡¯t at all aware for how long he was trapped in the new bedroom. He had passed out before leaving the cell he was kept in. Maybe, weeks passed or worse months. Micah then realized he was being a tad bit dramatic, only a day or two since he had yet to form any facial hair, even in the worst situations, his appearance mattered to him quite a bunch. He did notice he was cleaned up, his hair was brushed and he was wearing an Avernecian styled shirt with detailed blue embroidery and soft beige linen pants. He felt weird in his new clothes, he was much more used to the Alvon style of which had more fitted clothing, and thicker fabrics due to its extremely cold winters and mountains.


    He felt homesick, Alvonia was miles away now. Truthfully, he did not even know if anyone back home was looking for him. Micah laid in bed looking around the new room, he could admit it was quite nice, long tapestries were hung from the celling down the walls, there were beautiful stained glass windows and even a small fire place with new wood. Sunlight was barely visible, he couldn''t tell if it was night, morning or evening. He wished he had a balcony of some sort or perhaps a clear window, but alas, it was better to make a heaven out of the hell he felt confined in.


    A light knock on the door announced the presence of a girl. She was thin and pale, had freckles on her face and skin, her hair was a light brown with curls that escaped her pony tail, she carried a woven basket full of supplies. Micah smiled at her.


    ¡°Hello friend.¡±


    The girl waved and got closer, she pulled a chair beside Micah''s bed and prepared what perhaps was an antidote. He didn¡¯t like the smell, he could smell ginger, turmeric and rosemary and many other herbs. She carefully crushed them with a grinding stone and bowl, until it was all mixed and turned into a small paste-like substance. She grabbed a small glass bottle of water and poured it into a smaller bowl, adding the paste she mixed it in.


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    ¡°Drink it.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Micah replied.


    "Please."


    "Absolutely not."


    She frowned, ¡°It won¡¯t kill you. The Emperor asked me to make it in-front of you for this reason.¡± She took a spoon full and pointed it at Micah.


    ¡°Does his royal majesty know I¡¯m deathly allergic to ginger? If so, wouldn¡¯t this be me just taking poison?¡± he questioned, he noticed how she pulled back slightly.


    ¡°I feel like you''re lying, but if thats the case-¡± She did not seem to be in the best of moods to argue, she even seemed a bit conflicted on what to say.


    ¡°I¡¯m teasing you. It just smells awful. I guess if he commands it.¡± Micah took the spoon and bowl out of the girl¡¯s hand, he gagged a bit before finally taking in a spoonful. He waved a finger at her to get closer. She pulled back frowning. Yeah, she definitely was not having a good time here with him.


    ¡°Relax, would you? I took your poison I cannot hurt you. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Ruth.¡±


    ¡°Ruth, I¡¯m Micah. Pleasure to meet you.¡± He slightly turned to her, moving was a lot harder than he remembered, he managed to extend his hand for her to shake. Ruth took his hand firmly and lightly squeezed. She saw how much pain he was in, shaking it wouldn''t be a wise choice.


    Ruth relaxed her back slightly, she leaned in and took the bowl from his hands. Micah didn''t fight it. He smiled at her. She added a bit more water into the mixture, mixed it once more before placing it back near him.


    "No way in Heaven did you just make more for me to take despite the fact that I was almost finished with the first half." He pouted.


    "The water is to dilute the taste, besides it''s still the same amount of paste. The water will allow your body to easily digest it."


    "It still tastes bitter."


    "Because it has bitter ingredients." Ruth snapped back.


    "Young lady, I am not a fan of your attitude."


    "Well, I am not a fan of listening to you being in pain and yet refusing to take medication that could help you. So, either follow my advice or shut up."


    The door opened, Ruth quickly got up and held the bowl in her hands. Micah shifted and sat up in bed, his arms barely holding his own weight. Nicodemus walked in and froze for a moment, he seemed to observe the room, noticing how tense the air was between Ruth and Micah.


    "Am I interrupting something?" he asked. Ruth quickly bowed and shook her head. She finished gathering the supplies and ingredients, placing them back into the basket. Micah dramatically sighed, Ruth looked up and glared at him visibly displeased. Nicodemus waited at the door, he leaned by the frame with his arms crossed, closely paying attention to the both of them. Micah cast a long, direct glance towards the other man. This would be the first time they were alone, and Nicodemus was incredibly hard to read. One thing he did notice was his change of clothes. He wore something casual, a forest green button down shirt, the buttons only up to his lower chest, and black pants. How scandalous.


    It gave Micah a small hint of what time of day it was, definitely nothing too fancy. If he calculated correctly, the emperor''s coronation has passed making Nicodemus officially his public enemy if things went wrong. This would be the first or second day of the week. He slightly fixed his posture and felt the scarred skin stretch; it felt almost like thread being undone, confirming his hypothesis from earlier: two or three days have passed. He was pleased with how just with something as simple as an outfit change he could calculate time. If he could confirm it, it would give him time to fully plan out an escape or at least another chance of survival.


    "Just ask." Nicodemus said. Micah didn''t notice how deep in thought he was, he didn''t even pay enough attention to notice the emperor stood right in front of him.


    "Is that girl your wife?" he in fact did not have a question.


    "Excuse me?" Nicodemus was taken back, his face scrunched.


    "Ruth?"


    "I know who you''re talking about."


    "Then answer my question." Micah said. The air felt heavy, he felt silly for the question yet at a moment like this, his mouth moved before his brain processed it. Nicodemus rubbed his temples, his mouth opened to speak before a small smirk appeared on his face. He took a moment to think of what to say before responding.


    "She is not. I will say, she is super gifted. A lot of your healing is all thanks to her. Let¡¯s just say, that if she fixed you, my personal physician would agree on taking her as his apprentice. She even bathed you."


    "She did what now?" Micah mouth dropped, grabbing the sheets he was quick to cover his chest. He noticed how Nicodemus covered his mouth and his shoulders began to bounce. Micah leaned in and saw a huge smile on his face.


    "YOU!"


    "Relax, it was only a joke. As if I¡¯d let her. Buer took care of it. She did heal you back to health." Nicodemus finally showed his face and sat down on the chair Ruth had left. Micah''s face turned red, he turned his head the other way not wanting to face Nicodemus.


    Micah pushed himself back into the bed and under the sheets. A tiny laugh was heard from the outside. He was confused, how long has it been? He cautiously peeked from under the sheets, and made eye contact with Nicodemus once again.


    "I wont hurt you. May we just talk?" Nicodemus asked, his voice was soft. For once, Nicodemus did not seem so scary, he noticed his boyish charm. The emperor still had his adolescent features. ''He''s my age.'' he thought. The conversation felt casual, like two friends catching up. Micah''s guard vanished, and whatever Nicodemus wanted to ask, he would answer.


    "We can talk." Micah replied.


    "My mother, I wanted to ask you about her. What is this treaty she broke? Our two nations never got along, although we also haven''t been at war in over 20 years I-I''m assuming." Nicodemus began to stutter, he noticed the way he played with the tips of his own hair, his eyes were sad, as if the words pained him to speak. Despite his height and status, this wasn''t Nicodemus the emperor. This was a confused, and curious young man.


    "I came here looking for her." Micah admitted, his cheeks turning slightly pink.


    "Why?"


    "I thought she would have the answer. I only found out about her passing after I was captured by your guards. If anyone could explain what was going on it would have been her. I misspoke when I said it was her fault. Truly I have no idea what is going on. However, the treaty break is true." he looked down to the floor, most of his head still covered by the sheets. Nicodemus stayed silent for a moment. There was a long pause in the conversation, Micah felt a wave of guilt fill his stomach. He felt stupid and ashamed, many times has he said the wrong thing, but he has never gone so low as to blame the dead. He reached out and squeezed Nicodemus¡¯ hand, and he glanced over. If Nicodemus dared to cut his hand off at this moment, he might have well deserved it. Sure, it was a daring move, stupid even nevertheless Nicodemus didn''t move it, he was like a startled puppy.


    "Thank you." Micah whispered.


    "May I ask what for?" The two of them made eye contact. There was a small innocence in the air, two young men, and a few things left unanswered. Nothing was said, in spite of that both understood each other loud and clear.


    Nicodemus left the room a while later, he had helped the other replace the bandages and put new ointment on them. They continued some small talk, and Nicodemus spoke to him about the coronation, how it was small and quick. Nicodemus was never a fan of crowds, he told Micah about how the bishop¡¯s breath smelled like black coffee and he had to hold himself back from gagging. The new item he now possessed, his mother had left him her black high-carbon steel sword named Apostle, Nicodemus seemed to be a huge fan of swords, he knew the best metals, the different cuts and even how high their maintenances could be.


    The two men shared their fondness for weapons and different styles of martial arts they had trained growing up. Micah had trained with monks, and Nicodemus had a personal instructor named Marchosias. Micah told him about how he was captured, the exact tunnels he took and how he almost could have gotten away with sneaking into the castle if he didn''t make the mistake of trying to steal a snack. Nicodemus shared the secret hallways he would use when sneaking in and out of the castle, the different tunnels, and how only a small number of times did he actually get lost.


    Micah knew he wasn''t free, they didn''t mention the cuffs still on his wrist and ankles. There was small moment in time where they were just boys. Sharing their adventures, giving each other tips. The emperor was still a mystery to him, he wanted to speak to Nicodemus again. In another life time, Micah hoped that Nicodemus and he would meet in better terms.

 Chapter Three: Nicodemus

    "So, if you consider me your partner,


    receive him as you would receive me. If he has


    wronged you at all, or owes you anything, charge that to my account."


    - Book of Philemon, ESV 1:17-18<hr>


    If there was one thing Nicodemus hated more than silence, sitting absolutely still was probably it. Nicodemus¡ª in only two days¡ªhad gained a new hatred for oil paint and getting his portrait done. He sat down on a stool wearing a cream colored chiton, over that a rather heavy deep purple chlamys, and to top it all off a golden head wreath. This wasn¡¯t his usual style. In fact this entire get up had never belonged in his wardrobe. All emperors or empresses got their portrait taken, and after it was fully dried and revised it would get locked up in a room with the others. Then copies would be made from the master copy. Getting as many details was important the first time. The exact color of his eyes, the way the sun shines in his hair, to the shape of his nose and eyebrows and the small mole under his left eye.


    He felt his back slowly curve and his eyes get heavy, his shoulders relaxed and he could feel himself drifting off.


    ¡°Your majesty.¡± A voice woke him. He quickly fixed his posture, and turned his head. He pouted, and his eyes got glossy, he mouthed a small "Help me."


    ¡°Good morning. As much as I wish I could, the artist still needs to finish. Would you like a break before hand?¡± Samyaza smiled.


    ¡°Samyaza, I¡¯ve been sitting here for two days! It¡¯s boring, I told the artist that realistically I could care less how bad or good I look.¡±  He got up and threw off the chlamys.


    The artist squealed and ran to pick it up off the floor. Samyaza laughed. He walked over and saw the painting. Nicodemus was a young man now, no longer a young child. Samyaza gazed over to where he was standing, he seemed to be deep into thought.


    ¡°It¡¯s only one portrait. You¡¯ll survive. I think you look quite handsome. You¡¯re indeed your Father''s son. You have his height, and nose.¡±


    Nicodemus walked over and examined the painting. He was surprised how someone can capture so much just by staring at him. He felt pleased with the painting so far. He even noticed how his dark circles were almost non existent in the painting, it was inaccurate. He threw a gold chip at the artist, the man was quick to catch it and bowed down on all fours. Nicodemus waved his hand in the air, almost begging him to stop.


    ¡°Please, no need. We can finish this tomorrow.¡± He put on a cloak, and walked out with the other man. The two of them strolled down an empty hallway. Their silence felt nice, although Samyaza walked a bit slower than usual. Nicodemus in the past had been chased down many halls by him, once before even chased through the gardens. It was odd for Samyaza to ever show pain or discomfort.


    ¡°How come you haven¡¯t gotten your portrait painted yet?¡± Nicodemus asked.


    ¡°I have.¡±


    ¡°Not recently.¡±


    ¡°Your majesty, do you forget how old I am?¡± Samyaza looked down at the boy. Nicodemus shook his head, he knew Samyaza was a lot older than he appeared. He taught his mother how to sword fight, and was her lieutenant. Empress Silas once made a joke that Samyaza came with the land the palace was built upon.


    ¡°Ancient.¡±


    ¡° You''ve hurt me, I may be ancient despite that, I have looked the same for years.¡± Samyaza clutched his heart, he pursed his lips before turning his head. Nicodemus laughed and cheekily ran forward before turning and stopping Samyaza in his tracks. He crossed his arms.


    ¡°I doubt you looked the same back then, why not take advantage that the artist is here and get a new portrait.¡±


    ¡°Nico¡ª I do not think my portrait would be the one to matter most. Besides, if you can barely hold still what makes you think I¡¯ll last even longer? At least your hair is black and easier to paint. Mine¡¯s almost white. Wouldn¡¯t that be harder to capture?¡± Samyaza questioned. In all reality, Samyaza had always had light hair, at least in Nicodemus¡¯ memory. He had mentioned how the first artist tried to find the perfect shade and how many grunts were heard that night.


    ¡°I guess, maybe you¡¯re just upset they keep adding all your wrinkles.¡±


    ¡°I cannot handle all this torment! I have not one wrinkle or dent on my face!¡± Samyaza lightly pushed Nicodemus to the side, his chest rose and he pointed his nose up. In the past, Nicodemus didn¡¯t get many opportunities to tease him. His mother would always stop him or summon Samyaza for duty. That was one of his many jobs: to be there when called upon. Samyaza later then became an almost father figure for him, after his birth father¡¯s passing.


    Nicodemus was an only child, and the maids¡¯ and guards¡¯ kids usually played amongst themselves. Truthfully, he had always enjoyed being left alone. Spending most of his time in the palace¡¯s library, or with his father, Nicodemus knew  little about people, especially how to read them. He was raised to show respect to everything around him, animals, the maids, guards and especially Samyaza. His father would spend days with him showing him how to read maps, coordinates and learning how to read the stars. Together the two of them would prepare dinner and organize the banquet for when his mother would return from trips. All of that required detailed knowledge and organization, which his father was best at. His father was educated the best he could be, so he tended to value education more then physical strength.


    Emperor Demetrius was rumored to have wooed the Empress with his natural charm. He came from a smaller village in Avernita, not from a known family or riches. Nicodemus loved the story of how his father won over his mother, of course there was some exaggeration at which his mother would then laugh and admit it was false. The three of them became almost inseparable, from holidays, to family trips, Nicodemus'' parents always made sure one of them was available to help keep their son in check. When Nicodemus was twelve, Demetrius passed on a night in winter, Nicodemus remembered how his mothers cried. It was the first time the palace was quiet. His portrait was covered and soon put away. It was still unknown how he passed.


    Samyaza took on the role of his father with months passing, nonetheless he refused the crown despite the council offering it. It was the first time the empire had a widow, and many questioned her ability to rule and raise a child. The day of the emperor¡¯s passing, Silas took a vow to never re-marry, and closed off her heart. She raised Nicodemus alongside Samyaza, both taking fair turns in education and teaching him skills. Samyaza became Nicodemus¡¯ first true friend, and although he was lectured and constantly forced to study, the two of them learned to get along and always count on one another.


    Making their way to the gardens, Nicodemus noticed the light steps Samyaza took. He paid close attention to the way he carried himself almost in pain, it was easier for him to hide it earlier, now it looked as if each step needed deep concentration. He ran to him and put his hands on his shoulders.


    "You look sick. I don''t mean this as a joke either, are you in pain?"


    "I''m alright. Your Majesty, perhaps will you allow me to rest for a bit? I did save you after all from the torments of oil paint." he reminded Nicodemus.


    "You''ve been acting this way for a few days now, has Buer not checked on you?"


    "He has, I''ll be alrig-" Samyaza coughed, he squeezed his chest and he began to hyperventilate. Nicodemus stepped away in fear, he felt his heartbeat race. He looked around and screamed for help. Two maids rushed over and checked his pulse, sitting him down he tried to not worry them.


    "I''m alright-I- I just needed to sit down for a moment, Nico, go on without me."


    "No! Whats going on? Why aren''t you telling me things?" He raised his voice.


    "Your majesty, I¡¯ll be fine. Please excuse me this once, I will explain things soon." One of the maids called for backup, and Samyaza was carried by his shoulders back to his room. Nicodemus stood still and watched. His heart dropped, he felt a wave of anxiety fill his head and body.


    Nicodemus waited outside Samyaza''s door, the air felt heavy and his throat itched. Maids walked by offering him a pillow, chairs or even food. He declined them all. Hugging his knees he turned his head closer to the door to hear if anything was going on. Realizing the entire room was sound proof he cursed under his breath. He looked down to the floor. They were clean, shiny and his reflection was visible. He saw himself in the white tiles, his eyes puffy and his nose red. Nicodemus had followed the maids and nurses up the stairs although, he was not allowed in.


    Buer opened the door accidentally hitting Nicodemus'' head with the door handle.


    "Who in the Hell- MY LORD! What in the heavens are you doing on the floor?" he leaned down helping Nicodemus get up. Nicodemus rubbed the side of his temple.


    "How is he?" he asked


    "Samyaza will be alright. He needs to rest. My lord, you also must rest. I¡¯ll send the girl to visit you."


    "No need. I will find her instead, where is she?"


    "She went to check on your prisoner. If I may ask, why do we keep that boy alive?" Buer reached in his bag and pulled out a warm bag, he placed it on Nicodemus temple. "It will help the pain. I sincerely do apologize."


    ¡°It''s alright, I might have deserved it. As for Micah, I don''t know what to do with him. Killing him does not feel right, although setting him free also wouldn''t make sense. I should perhaps check on him." Nicodemus bowed quickly at Buer taking the hot pack with him. He felt a bit embarrassed by what had happened, and had high hopes to be able to see Samyaza, then yell at him for not telling him what was going on. But for now, he would allow him to rest.


    The palace was big, sometimes Nicodemus thought it was too big. He always found new rooms and discovered new hiding areas. It had tall golden columns, high painted ceilings and chandeliers hanging down every few steps. Palm trees and many other exotic plants were scattered around, it had high arches that led to doorways and windows. The sea could be seen from the western side of the palace. Nicodemus avoided that side. He made his way into the guest suites, where there were twenty empty rooms. During Avernita''s holidays, his parents would invite guests, who each got their own room with personal staff. Nicodemus didn''t know when his home would ever be filled again.


    He drew a deep breath, and knocked on the door. If Ruth was there, she would most likely allow him in. He had the capability to open it for himself, although after his last visit he wasn''t fully aware what he would walk into. Just as planned Ruth opened the door. She moved out of the way allowing him access into the room. Micah sat down on a stool with his back freshly bandaged up. Nicodemus cleared his throat. Micah turned around and raised an eyebrow.


    "Lo lamento, your Majesty, for now I cannot bow at your gracious appearance. I am stuck keeping my back straight." Micah said, he looked pissed off as if Nicodemus ruined a moment. Instant regret filled Nicodemus'' head. He felt the need to turn around and walk out, but before he could Ruth had already stepped out and closed the door. Nicodemus sighed, and turned back around to face Micah. He had his arms crossed and a frown. ''I''m the emperor...why am I afraid of this guy?'' Nicodemus thought. He took a few steps inside and faced Micah, both of them made long lasting eye contact. Nicodemus truly had no idea if he had done anything wrong.


    "Hah? So you act all tough and mighty? Vete al demonio Nicodemus. First you act all nice and for once I think, perhaps he isn''t so terrible as he seems. Then not once could you have checked up on me?" Micah got up and looked up at Nicodemus who had a blank expression on his face. He huffed and shoved him away. Nicodemus tried to process what had just happened. Twenty-one years and not once had anyone ever raised their voice at him, not once had someone ever laid hands on him or even faced him this directly. He bit his tongue holding himself from laughing. Nicodemus did not know whether to laugh or get angry at this form of treatment.


    "If you wished to see me, all you had to do was ask." Nicodemus stated.


    "Why would I want to see you?"


    "Then why are you upset I did not visit?" Nicodemus tilted his head, his lips curled upwards. He got closer to Micah who was flushed in the face. Nicodemus thought he was a funny guy. He clearly seemed bothered yet, refusing to say why made no sense. Micah always spoke his mind, he definitely wasn¡¯t one to hold his feelings back.


    "I couldn¡¯t care less. I¡¯d much rather have Ruth. She at least brings me baked goods and makes sure I''ve eaten."


    "Is that so? Are you hungry now? Have you eaten, dearest guest?" Nicodemus leaned in. Nicodemus didn¡¯t know what he was trying to accomplish with getting so close to Micah. He had reminded him of a sulking cat, one could only get so close before claws attacked your face.


    "Alejate!" Micah commanded, he put both his hands up, stopping Nicodemus from getting any closer, the frown on his face became more noticeable. Learning to speak Alvon was never on Nicodemus¡¯ bucket list, never did he think it would be a useful language to learn. Now he had wished he spent some time learning, perhaps then could he have an idea of what Micah was going off about.


    "My deepest apologies. I cannot understand your native tongue. You speak clear Avernician, where did you learn?" Nicodemus stepped back slightly, dealing with Micah felt like handling a viper, although pretty to look at venom would be spit. The other boy did not answer. Nicodemus felt confused. It had only been a week since Nicodemus last visited Micah, with him needing to complete multiple tasks he barely had time for himself. He scratched his chin before reaching out to gently tap Micah''s shoulder. The man flicked his hand away. Nicodemus frowned, it was one thing to let him get away with raising his voice, now he was being childish. He thought about leaving, it would have been much easier to open the door and walk away. He owed him absolutely nothing, besides this was Nicodemus¡¯ home. He hated how he felt about the entire situation. It did not sit right with him to just walk away. He thought for a moment, perhaps the boy was just hungry? As delicious as Ruth could cook, nothing is better than a full meal. He sucked up his pride before finally asking Micah to have dinner.


    "Micah. Would you like to join me for dinner?" he felt weird asking a prisoner who was technically his guest, had no freedom to travel and couldn''t leave his room, out to dinner. Originally, Micah should have been placed into a cell, and made to eat only scraps and leftovers. Yet now, he was being treated almost like a full guest.  He waited for a response. Micah looked down at his arms, the silver cuffs covering his entire wrist. He turned his head back, his voice was soft and his Alvon accent escaped through. Nicodemus was more aware of his accent than ever before.


    He wondered if it was always this strong or only when he was upset. When they first met his voice was pained, he spoke carefully and chose his words. Now Nicodemus felt as if Micah was showing his true self, his unguarded self. He would never admit how funny he thought he  was, especially when he was clearly showing no respect to who was in front of him.


    "What would your servants think when they see a prisoner with cuffs out with the emperor? I''m still under strict surveillance."


    "Their opinion does not phase me."


    "I decline. If you want dinner with me, let¡¯s eat here."


    "As you wish." Nicodemus smiled. He opened the door and let himself out. He couldn''t help but laugh a bit at the whole interaction inside the room. ''You''re an interesting man Micah.'' He thought.


    Nicodemus made his way into the kitchen, it was not far from Micah''s room. He could have also asked someone to come and take their order, nonetheless, Nicodemus needed a bit of space and time to relax before he had to head back and meet up with the venomous cat. All the cooks welcomed him and offered him all kinds of fresh meats and produce, the servant boys had recently gone out and picked the best berries from the gardens, and much more.


    He asked the main cook if he would have someone drop food off to Micah¡¯s room, explaining where it was and what he thought Micah would probably enjoy most. The staff all looked over as if they heard something foreign.  The chef also looked a bit puzzled yet decided it was best to not ask questions, besides it was not uncommon for him to have weird requests of food or dining spots. Nicodemus grabbed fresh hibiscus juice and put some in a jar, one cook handed him freshly cleaned glasses.


    Slowly, he made his way back to Micah¡¯s room, he knocked and let himself in. Micah¡¯s head turned and he made room for Nicodemus on the floor. There was a tapestry laid out and some pillows for them to sit on. Nicodemus felt bad for not requesting a table be put in the room, he made a mental note of it and sat down. They sat by the fire place, it was awkward at first, the two of them both stared into the fire. The crackling sound of the wood was all that could be heard for a while.


    "I did not think you would come back." Micah broke the silence.


    "I like to keep my promises." Nicodemus responded. He handed Micah a glass and poured him some juice, Micah took the first sip. Hibiscus was freshly grown in the garden, it was dried up, boiled down and sweet sugar was mixed into it. It was Nicodemus¡¯ favorite drink. He looked over at Micah who also seemed to enjoy it, there was a side of satisfaction Nicodemus didn¡¯t know he could feel. He reached out to grab the jar as Micah made his way for it as well. Micah pulled his hand away.


    ¡°Please, have some more.¡± Nicodemus gestured.


    ¡°You first.¡±


    Nicodemus grabbed the jar, he took Micah¡¯s cup and poured him some more before grabbing his own cup and filling it up. The two of them sat in more silence, this time there was a bit of timidness in the air.


    ¡°I assume my apology was accepted?¡± Nicodemus raised his glass


    ¡°Not yet.¡± Micah said.