ã€ŠVastmire and the Planet Longanã€‹


 Acknowledgments

    The very moment my twilight years began, I felt in every insignificant bone in my brittle body the need to eclipse my impending obsolescence. People need to work in one form or another, and after years of physical labor, a shift to the mind seemed most apt for my situation. And as my psychefades into the abyss from whence it came, my darlingwife suggested I might write down my memories before they leave me for good. So from the bottom of my heart, I thank her for this, as well as the love and support she gave to me throughout my years of being both a good man and a glorious vagabond.

    From my younger years, it was always taught to me to do what good I could with the tools I had by my mentor, Sage, and his advice has done much good for me in this, the twilight of my life. In fact much of him lives on through me, an avatar of his many teachings, and I do hope that someone I¡¯ve touched in my travels or even one such as you, a reader of this exercise in maintaining a focused mind, has learned from one of his many insightful phrases, or become enamored with that wild brand of philosophy he once touted so proudly. Though I bereave myself so preemptively, in a way you might callshameful, the thought of meeting with him once more is making things much easier on me. I can¡¯t wait to ask him all the questions I¡¯ve had over the years since his absence.

    To my friends in the Orange Archipelago, specifically the isles of Mango and Tangerine, I thank you for all the hospitality you¡¯ve given me, and the delicious food you always have at the ready. I might have need for one of your great harvest soups in the near future¡ªwinter is nearly here, after all.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    To my son and my daughter, wherever you may be, I thank you both for giving me purpose even if you haven''t realized it.

    And finally, to my father the king, the man I chased and chased, I thank you for trying your best. You taught me to do mine no matter what, and to do the right thing even if it didn¡¯t feel right. Men of honor deserve its splendor, and you are of no exception.

    I hope that whomever has read this to completion understands fully the power of the Vastmire.Nowadays, the world has forgotten the pull men and women with power had, as these are times of not only peace but salvation, but in my youth I saw the true horror of living in a world filled with people toying with godhood, as if the world were palpable dough in the hands of a capable chef. Men and women using it were they themselves weapons, far from the humanity they tossed aside. Many believe that I was the cause of its end, but with this book I hope to put those rumors to rest.

    The mantle of the Moss Knight dies with me.

    This is my story.

    Peppermint Avocado,

    Summer Six, 1676

 Chapter One

    On the night of the midsummer celebration, I was hiding out in my mother¡¯s chambers, watching the people of Persea celebrate loudly in the streets as they did each year. A parade was in progress, as well as an open market lasting well into the small hours of the morning, and more alcohol would be imbibed today than any other day of the year. The children played merrily in the streets, and when the parents would get too inebriated, they would run off and go on little adventures doing tremendous little¡ªthough it would feel to them they did everything. Laughter oozed its way up the sheer brick of our castle, up the many stories and into my brazen ears.

    The disdain in my heart filled my mouth with bile at the infectious sound.

    My mother, the queen, sat at her mirror and brushed her hair to a tuneless hum whose sound was a tonic for my wretched heart. She glanced back at me, her pale green eyes slanting at me in a way that made me turn and look back to the people.

    ¡°You look glum,¡± she mused, returning to brush already shimmering hair.

    I grunted and shrugged absently, as children my age were want to do.

    ¡°Do you wish to be down there, dear?¡± she purred, notes from her hum finding their way into her words.

    ¡°No,¡± I replied flatly. ¡°They are too loud and dumb to entertain me.¡±

    My mother laughed airily. ¡°That¡¯s not how you should speak of our people, Peppermint.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Well, they shouldn¡¯t speak so poorly of themselves. I can hear their words from here, and they¡¯re as crass as anything I would say, if not more.¡±

    Sighing, my mother placed her brush on the vanity her mirror sat on and rose up. She was a towering woman, all legs and limbs, but elegant in the way she would glide across the floor. Her green hair shone brightly from all the oils and treatments she had given it for the celebration that night. ¡°They may be less inclined toward eloquence, but they are the life of our kingdom. Avocado would be nothing without its people, as would any country. Remember that, Peppermint.¡±

    I curled my mouth in disgust but nodded anyway. Arguing with my mother never worked out, and during an important day like this, it would be absolutely worthless.

    ¡°Have you seen your father yet?¡± she asked, grabbing my shoulder.

    ¡°He¡¯s here?¡± I asked, sarcastically. ¡°That¡¯s new, I figured him dead.¡±

    Frowning, my mother smacked my head lightly. It didn¡¯t hurt, but I made a fuss of it anyway. ¡°Hush. If he¡¯s not here yet, he should be here within the hour. Last we heard, he was on the other side of the lake.¡±

    Before saying, ¡°I hope he drowned in it,¡± I thought better of it and said, ¡°Well I haven¡¯t seen him at all, no. Shouldn¡¯t I be getting ready for this dinner thing we¡¯re doing instead of searching for him?¡±

    My mother sighed and nodded, pulling me up by the shoulder and away from the window. ¡°Go to your room and get ready then. If you see him, tell him to come to see me in the dining hall right away. I have to speak to him and you know how he is.¡±

    Glaring at no one, I nodded. I knew how he was, yeah. Like most boys my age, I hated my father. But I had good reason to. What sort of king isn¡¯t around for his people? The same sort of father that isn¡¯t around for his wife and son. That¡¯s enough reason to hate him already, but there was more to it than that, something innate that could only be amplified by reason.

    ? ????? ?

    I made it to my room without seeing anyone resembling my father, and once I got there I huffed a lot and looked out the window some more before putting on the outfit one of the maids had set out on my bed for me. It was white pants, a white shirt with a tall collar that went right up to my chin, and a green vest the same shade as my hair. The white was excessive and made me look extra pale, and the collar rubbing my chin was going to get annoying. But that was the price to pay to be royal. Mother always said keeping appearances up was just as important as making the right choices for the kingdom. You have to walk the walk before you can talk the talk.

    Before I left my room to wander around until our dinner began, my door was thrown open, slamming into the brick wall like a raging bull. My heart pounded into my throat; was it my father?

    When I looked up, the boy who met my gaze was about my age, maybe a little older. He had dark eyes somewhere between blue and purple, and he wore an outfit similar to mine but with a purple cape that looked too warm to be comfortable in the summer weather. He smirked at me, his expression dripping vitriol. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to be Prince Peppermint, would you?¡± he asked, his voice cocky. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Hoping he didn¡¯t notice my shaking, I growled and asked in a voice that would only be deeper in a year or so, ¡°What are you doing in my room, Sumac? I thought my servants cleaned up the trash.¡±

    The boy chortled, his fingers pinching his nose pretentiously. ¡°Come on, I thought we were friends? Even if I¡¯m not, you know to treat guests better than that, Minty boy.¡±

    Without hesitating I shrugged and said, ¡°You¡¯re my mother and father¡¯s guest, sure. But you¡¯re no guest of mine. Get out of my room and leave me alone.¡±

    Prince Sumac flipped the hair from his eyes and said, ¡°Well, I suppose we will be seeing more of each other soon anyway. I just figured I¡¯d say hello. But¡ª¡± In the blink of an eye he was in my face, his arm on the wall blocking me from getting away. He gave me a wolfish smile, then whispered, ¡°I would advise not speaking to me or the other guests in that tone. It¡¯s¡­ uncouth.¡±

    I didn¡¯t want to, but all I could think to do was nod so I did. Then, with a small flourish of his cape, he walked out, his footsteps echoing across the brick hallway.

    Prince Sumac and I never had much of a relationship outside of these chance encounters. Some days it felt as if he liked me, others it seemed he was out to get me. It seemed that today he was here to make my night a living hell. His ghoulish face made him fit the part of a devil¡¯s pauper.

    In fact, back then I figured he probably was some kind of ghoul.

    My mother and some of the servants would tease me and tell me that ghouls would come and get me if I was rude or if I didn¡¯t attend my studies or whatever I was refusing to do that day. Once, my mother even thought it would be funny to drape a black blanket over her and pretend she was a ghoul one night after I had gone to bed. She got a good laugh out of it, but things like that stick with you when you¡¯re impressionable.

    Wandering the halls became a scarier thought knowing he was there wandering them too, so instead, I opened up a textbook on our country¡¯s history and studied in my room until the feast began. I say that, but my imagination kept me from focusing properly, instead flickering back and forth from the words on the page to Sumac¡¯s ghoulish face and the impending agony of sitting near him for an extended period of time. Nevertheless, I arrived at dinner on time. All of our servants were there, working tirelessly to make sure that everyone was getting served and the visitors from Cashew were being treated with respect¡ªand getting more than their fair share of food. Every single seat in the dining hall was filled, that long table the length of maybe three village houses packed with an assortment of foods related to the season. The beverages were fruity and bright, the steak was grilled and the vegetables were fresh, in season, and not going into my picky stomach. Everyone was smiling, happily consorting with one another despite never meeting outside of more hostile engagements or ¡°debates.¡±

    Even as a child, I knew that this whole dinner was one big political move on our part.

    Everyone would always go on about how Cashew and Avocado would either destroy each other or have to become allies, and it seemed they were finally making a choice. Probably for the best, too; I was always under the impression that the border, being as small as it was, was such a big choke point that any skirmish we took to them and vice versa would end with too many casualties on both sides, and at the end of the day we were fighting for resources. It made more sense to just reconcile and trade, a win-win for everyone.

    With all of the hustle and bustle of the dinner and important conversations, it seemed like no one noticed the single empty seat at the edge of the dining hall. My father¡¯s seat stared at me from across the table, inviting all sorts of thoughts. As much as I didn¡¯t want to see him, for him to be as late as he was during such an important dinner was unheard of. My eyes flicked to my mother, searching her face for some form of emotional twitch to show that she was worried. All I got from her was a satisfied nod and smile as if she were modeling for a painting. She ate sparingly, but I assumed that was to keep her lipstick from smearing more than anything else.

    Then I¡¯d turn my glance over to Prince Sumac, and he¡¯d lock eyes with mine, giving me the same look he was giving his grilled chicken.

    After some time, I heard the man speaking with my mother¡ªI think he was a duke from Cashew or something like that¡ªask her, ¡°So tell me, is the good King Merano out still?¡±

    Her smile winning all his attention, my mother shrugged and said, ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard how he works. He¡¯s always traveling the world over, trying to bring peace as he says. He¡¯s an amazing man!¡± She giggled, taking a long drink from her glass.

    ¡°Many would say he¡¯s gallivanting, you know,¡± the man chortled. I snorted in agreement and kept eating my steak.

    ¡°I¡¯m quite aware of the rumors about my husband,¡± my mother said. ¡°But I can assure you his trips are purely business, and I take them as seriously as he does.¡±

    ¡°I bet you do,¡± the man said, smirking. He reminded me of the prince for a moment and once again I averted my gaze.

    My mother, ever aware of everything happening in her presence, sensed my eyes and looked toward me. Her eyes widened and she got up and came over to me immediately, fussing with the two servers nearest us who were switching out the food for guests. ¡°Oh, goodness. Peppermint, you look absolutely terrible. Doesn¡¯t he?¡± she asked the two.

    ¡°He does look more pale¡ªer, pale, rather, my Queen.¡±

    ¡°Yes, he does. Might have been something he ate?¡±

    I shook my head, now feeling paranoid about my appearance. Did I wear my worry so prominently in my expression? Perhaps. As I have learned in my long life, I have never been a gambler. My emotions are unguarded, and I let them lay where they lie.

    So after much fussing and a last request for some fresh mango juice to go, I was hauled off to my room and away from the guests. Echoing somewhere above the cacophony of the celebration I heard Prince Sumac say something to the effect of, ¡°Karma must be hitting your stomach!¡± whatever that meant. Kids come up with the dumbest remarks sometimes.

    Still, his snicker carried up the stairs with me, too.

    My blood boiled, but I was too frightened to do anything other than obey my mother and walk with my servant to my room.

    Once I got there I downed the juice and shut my drapes, so I might feel less like I was being watched, and sleep took me away slowly, rocking me away from the troubles of so many unwanted people and unwarranted celebratory shenanigans. Whisked through the wonderful realm of sleep, I enjoyed the sense of company I felt with the air around me and the cold, familiar walls of my mind. It was wonderful.

    Then the smoke hit my lungs.

 Chapter Two

    The door slammed inward and I tumbled to the floor in a half asleep lurch forward that made me appear demented, or at the very least feel it. When my eyes adjusted after furious rubbing, I saw a figure in my doorway glide soundlessly toward me with determined, supernatural speed. As it drew closer, it revealed that it wore worn clothes of a civilian, a tunic that hadn¡¯t been washed since time immemorial, and a dark cloak of indiscernible color. It was obviously male, not just due to the clothes but the size and shape of the massive hand that reached for me.

    Groggily, I swat it away and walked backward on all fours like a crab.

    ¡°Come with me,¡± his voice emanated from somewhere deeper than his chest. It was powerful, commanded my attention in a way that made me think only one thing.

    He was an incubus.

    Which was disgusting, given the implications.

    ¡°Not interested,¡± I said, my spit keeping my voice sounding muffled.

    Before he even had time to argue, another figure appeared in the doorway, followed by another. Their clothes were similar fare to the first.

    ¡°Oh, good you already got here,¡± the first one said. ¡°Come on then, grab him and let¡¯s¡ª¡±

    He was cut off by a knife that appeared in his throat. A second whizzed by simultaneously, hitting the other man in the eye.

    My hands went numb. ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± I found myself thinking out loud, rubbing my eyes again to wake myself up.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t time to explain,¡± the deep voiced man said. ¡°But suffice it to say, you¡¯re in danger and I¡¯ve got to get you far away from this place, and fast.¡± He walked over to the weapons he¡¯d tossed and retrieved them, wiping them off on the outside of his cloak. I suddenly was aware of how much blood was on other parts, where he may or may not have wiped more of that dark ichor before.

    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± I asked again as he hoisted me over his shoulder, this time more haughtily.

    ¡°A coup,¡± he replied simply. ¡°This place is burning. I¡¯ll explain when we get out of here.¡±

    I wanted him to explain right then what was going on, why I was being ripped out of bed, why he killed those two who seemed by all accounts to think they were of the same ilk¡ªwhich also meant there was a group, who I wanted to know about. And where was the smoke coming from?

    Where was mother?

    But all of that was thrown out the window, quite literally, when my supposed savior/possible kidnapper leapt out of my window down five stories of sheer brick and landed, knelt down but uninjured, on the hard cobblestone at the bottom. My heart leapt up into my throat around the fourth story, and flew out of my mouth around the second. It¡¯s a miracle I wasn¡¯t lying limp and lifeless on him in that moment from the sheer shock of it all.

    Without even pausing to rest or check to make sure both of his legs were still legs and not gelatinous goop, my man¡ªnow most likely not an incubus, more likely a werebeast or vampire, even a ghoul¡ªburst into a pure sprint, his breathing measured and calculated, as if he had done this all before a thousand times. I bounced around on his back, useless but curious, trying to take in everything around me despite my vision blurring from all the things happening at once.

    For starters, the castle was up in flames, not just smoke. In fact the entire building was all but consumed in big, bright red flames reaching up to the third or fourth floor. That all consuming fire was spreading further into the city, and the hour must have been late; everyone was still asleep. The citizens were groggily getting out of their beds and seeing what was happening, trying to process it through the drowsiness and alcohol. A few were moving away, and even fewer were attempting to figure out a way to fix the fire. But mostly the people were just staring, eyes as focused as a doe¡¯s to danger, processing the situation as if it were implausible.

    None of them noticed me and my captor moving at the speed of lightning through the city. The castle and my home grew smaller and smaller, further and further away. Suddenly the thought hit me that my mother was back there and I had no idea if she was okay.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, still muffled and groggy. He was running so fast that we had almost left Persea, a city I was sure was larger than average, in less than five minutes. ¡°Hey!¡± I called, a little louder. I made sure to hit his shoulder for good measure, but he just kept moving soundlessly through the city like a ghost.

    A ghost, yeah. Maybe he was a ghost.

    But that wouldn¡¯t make much sense, ghosts aren¡¯t¡ª

    ¡°Ow!¡± I grunted as my face met the grass. Immediately, I checked to make sure my teeth were all there, then I spit the dirt from my mouth, all vomit and vitriol.

    ¡°Quit fooling around, boy.¡± My captor yanked me up by my collar and knelt down to eye level. For the first time I could see his eyes beneath the mask.

    They were green like mine. Like mom¡¯s.

    But with something else, something darker.

    ¡°Look, I¡¯m serious when I say you¡¯re in danger. We have to get out of here fast, and you¡¯re already weighing me down. We should have been out of here a minute ago.¡±

    Just then, there was a sound in the trees and my captor held his hand up to me, showing I should remain quiet. My lips locked up tight, and I watched with horror mixed with interest while he walked over to the trees to see what the disturbance was. In a few moments he was back, his knife back in his belt loop. ¡°Just a rabbit, running from the flames,¡± he muttered. Then, hoisting me up, he added, ¡°Like we should be,¡± and he continued his mad dash away.

    At this point, I understood that I was getting no answers from him, so I was back to wondering why we were running. He had said a coup, and as I understood it, that meant that this was a malicious act of war. Which left one explanation, really.

    Cashew had betrayed our good will and used our midsummer celebration to take over the castle and overthrow our country. Considering they were searching for me, I could also conclude they were searching for¡­

    ¡°Mother¡­¡± I said, voice wavering. I gripped the man¡¯s shoulder tighter and found myself weeping openly into it, drenching him and myself in disgusting, sleepy tears and snot. At the time, it felt appropriate.

    I felt him turn to look at me, and I wiped my face as clean as I could. I already was seen in my sleep, I didn¡¯t need to be seen crying by some heathen. As royalty, I was to keep up my appearances. Just as my mother always said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said, his voice even deeper when it was being gentle. It shook me to the bone, but in a way that was comforting. That was all he said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± but that was all I needed.

    He slowed down, and I found that we were deep in the forest of everblues, the pine trees looking even more blue in the night. Once he slowed to a walk, he let me down and looked me over to see that I wasn¡¯t hurt. When he saw that all I had were a few minor bruises on my face and some dirt and soot on my clothes, he grunted and handed me a knife from his pocket.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked in a voice I wanted to be more level, but came out with more incredulity than intended.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be difficult from here on out, and I need to be sure you¡¯ll be okay even if I am not within ten feet of you. I assume you¡¯ve trained in combat before, being the prince, right?¡±

    When I didn¡¯t answer, he sighed and ran a palm through his hair and over his forehead. It wasn¡¯t that he was wrong; I had trained plenty in combat. Whether or not I was good at it was more of a different thing, though. In all one thousand odd hours of me fencing, I had landed one hit on an opponent. And it was because a bee had flown in his face, throwing him off balance. When it came to archery, I was even worse, never landing a mark. Being the only heir to the throne meant I should be good at these sorts of things. Who would lead the charge for battle? Who would attend the royal hunts?

    I always  just figured someone else would take care of that under my rule.

    ¡°Look, just hold the knife and look menacing. If they get close, dodge and call for me.¡±

    ¡°How do you know they¡¯ll come for me?¡± I asked, timidly because I knew the answer.

    He narrowed his eyes and walked ahead. I followed, feeling the weight of the knife in my hand. It was more like a dagger or short sword, the blade itself a hunk of iron long enough to be my forearm, and thick enough to be my leg. This guy threw one of these at a speed I couldn¡¯t even keep up with?

    ¡°Who are you?¡± I finally decided to ask.

    All I got was a laugh, full of mirth, and it gave me an odd sense of nostalgia.

    We continued for a time, getting closer and closer to the lake, which was peering through the trees here and there the further we went, glistening a bright white from the moon and a dark, night tinged green. Idly, I would turn my knife here and there as I walked, fidgeting to maintain a sense of calm despite the unfamiliar surroundings.

    Despite our home overseeing all of these things, and despite being the prince of a country far larger than I could understand, I had little experience in the world outside. My father was never around to take me anywhere, and the rule was that the queen had to stay home if the king was out or vice versa. Because my father left without me, I was stuck home, keeping the servants busy and my mother company.

    It was never enough for either of us, and without the walls to surround me I felt more vulnerable than ever, the everblues closing in on me with devious intent, the cracking of twigs sending my spine to convulsions.

    Then the man stopped, holding a hand out to stop me. I slammed into it and stayed there, unsure of what to do.

    ¡°Back up,¡± he growled, his voice an even lower register than before. ¡°But stay close, and keep your knife ready.¡±

    I took a few steps backward and held my knife pointed outward, both hands grasping the hilt firmly enough my palms began burning. The blade shook, but I remained still. Or maybe I shook but the blade remained still.

    The dark was unnerving, and I could barely see the man in front of me save for when he moved, a ripple in the darkness. The forestry was so dense that the sky was blocked by a makeshift ceiling of blueish green. I told myself to breathe long and slow, and it helped at least take my mind off the fact that I wasn¡¯t home, that I was in danger, that my mother was in danger.

    Voices whispered in our direction, and I could just barely hear them coming from our left.

    ¡°...sure he¡¯s this way?¡± the first one asked.

    ¡°Pretty sure I saw someone this way,¡± the second answered, breathing heavy. They couldn¡¯t possibly have run from the city to keep up with us. They must have been stationed near here, or at least in the forest, and saw us coming through.

    ¡°How would he have gotten this far out so fast? He¡¯s just a kid, right? I feel like horseshit after all that running and we run all the time.¡±

    The other grunted, and I was suddenly aware of rustling as their figures materialized from the foliage. ¡°Well either way we have to find him. Hopefully he¡¯s not too hurt or anything, that explosion was huge.¡±

    My forehead began pounding. Were these guys trying to kidnap me, or save me? Now I couldn¡¯t tell based on what they had said.

    When they were in full view, they appeared fine enough. I didn¡¯t recognize them but they weren¡¯t wearing anything to indicate ill will, and from what I could see they carried no weapons. None were certainly in their hands.

    So why was the man who took me attacking them?

    He lurched forward with speed that I wouldn¡¯t have followed in the brightest light, let alone in that dark little area of the forest. All I saw was movement, and I heard the disgusting sound of pain and consciousness leaving the body. Or the soul. I couldn¡¯t tell if he had killed them, and I wasn¡¯t curious enough to see for myself.

    The instant they were down, he wiped his blade as he had before and sighed with an indignation I usually reserved for my studies.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he muttered, hand held out for me to hold to while he hoisted me on his back.

    I shook my head.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this, just hop on and I¡¯ll run us again.¡± A growl began to enter his voice. It was commanding, authoritative.

    I didn¡¯t really have a choice¡ªat least, he made it seem as though I didn¡¯t¡ªso I grabbed his hand and he hoisted me up. And the gears spun in my head, and I drew up conclusions, and I imagined what to do, and I still wasn¡¯t sure. But this didn¡¯t feel right, and that I was sure of.

    So I probably shouldn¡¯t have been surprised when we went down, and I was staring at the knife that he gave me jutting out of his shoulder. It hadn¡¯t gone very deep, but it was deep enough to cause more than a mild discomfort. He went down like a felled deer, and I tumbled in a roll that sent me slamming into the nearest tree.

    When I saw him still on the ground, stunned, I panicked and ran away in the opposite direction, toward the smoke stacks billowing up over the trees. Tears streamed down my dirty cheeks, heat making the snot drip from my nose freely. My breath was ragged. My steps were wobbly.

    And I tripped on the undergrowth once, twice, three times. I got up each time more slowly. I kept thinking of my mother, where she was and how she felt. That made getting up a little easier, but not by much. Blood covered my hands, and I was unsure whose it was. I remember stopping to vomit, but I couldn¡¯t. The nausea just remained constant, bile slapping my throat with each step I took, each breath bringing acid with it to my nose and mouth.

    After a few minutes of running, I heard footsteps and came to a stop so I could see who it was. If it was the man, he¡¯d have come to get me and I wasn¡¯t sure what to do¡ªafter all, he could outrun any horse, even Sleipner as far as I was concerned.

    It was two more men, both dressed in civilian clothes which were covered in soot from the fire. They wore swords in their belts, but I was sure they would help me if they were from Persea, and I had a better chance with them considering I hadn¡¯t been foolish enough to stab them.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I called, running out to them with both hands in the air. They both immediately drew their weapons and I screeched to a halt and waved my hands more frantically. ¡°No-no-no! I¡¯m not going to hurt you, I just want your help!¡±

    They didn¡¯t say anything, they just glanced at each other and stomped forward slowly, blades bouncing in the idle hypnotism of a cobra.

    ¡°I¡¯m Prince Peppermint Avocado,¡± I said in as proclamatory a way as possible despite the timbre my voice reached.

    They kept closing in, and my back hit a tree. I slid to the side with as much grace as a brick hitting a skull.

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re still drunk from the festivities,¡± I said, more to myself than anyone. ¡°I¡¯m your Prince. You don¡¯t wish to harm me.¡±

    This time one of them snorted. ¡°Nah,¡± he said. ¡°But if you struggle we won¡¯t mind whopping a finger or two off. The parts of a royal go for a higher price ¡®n you think, yer majesty.¡±

    ¡°That they do,¡± the other said, his grin an ominous white line in the darkness. ¡°Royal blood for the sacrament will be worth its weight in gold, I¡¯d wager. An ear for a necklace might fetch a price too.¡±

    They laughed, and tears once again rode the familiar trails of my face, pathways etched there from a night of mares. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for what came next.

    Which, to my surprise, was their swift demise.

    The man I¡¯d stabbed leapt from the trees like a bat from hell, the blade I¡¯d lodged in him still protruding like a flag. In a flash of his blade, both men fell in a heap of meat. He wiped his blade clean and sheathed it, staring down at the men in silence.

    It was creepy.

    It was really, really creepy.

    He turned then, and without saying anything still held out a hand for me. I whimpered and stepped back, as you do when you¡¯re approached by a crazy.

    But crazy has a way of just whisking you off without your consent. I held tight to his good shoulder, still unsure if this was a good idea or if I was being taken to a prison in a far off land or a wild mans hut or I was to be sold as a slave. I¡¯ve heard plenty of tales regarding princes being sent through horrible, terrible hardships, only to come out of it better for it, albeit hardened.

    That only happened in fairy tales, though.

 Chapter Three

    I slept on the man¡¯s shoulder deeper than most nights spent in my bed, and when I woke up my drool had trickled down his cloak and dried from the early morning air. He had made it around the lake, and he was moving slower than before, each step taken with the lumbering stiffness of a giant. The trees glistened, the blue pine needles sparkling like stars in the early morning sunrise, and the scent of water filled my nose more than the smell of the man¡¯s blood and sweat.

    Before I was finished processing whether I had been dreaming or not, the man said, ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± His voice made my eyes snap open, widening at the realization that not only was last night a real event, but I had been kidnapped.

    He had taken me to another castle.

    I never knew of this place prior. To my knowledge, the area around Stone Lake was populated by more bicorns and goblins than men, no buildings near for iles until you reached the outlying towns. Yet here we were, standing in front of a castle of similar make to my own¡ªthough it was on a smaller scale, a mere two towers compared to the ten comprising my own large home. The tops reached well above the trees, and the bricks wore vines which rode up the walls with a delicacy that may have been intentional. When the man walked closer, I could see it was old; it may have been even more ancient than my own home.

    So who in the hell lived here?

    Suddenly, the man toppled over, crumpling to the ground and breathing heavily. I fell sort of awkwardly to the side, fine but confused. He was in a cold sweat, but his face was hard and covered in cracks from the wind whipping into his face during his sprint from the night. He must have ran a good twenty iles, probably more since he had to run backwards to find me, and he had jumped five stories, and he had to fight a bunch of people.

    Oh and he was stabbed by a stupid kid. Can¡¯t forget that, can we?

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked, my voice hoarse from snoring and wind.

    ¡°Obviously not,¡± he grumbled between breaths. ¡°I worked myself too hard. Go find Basil, he can fix me up.¡±

    Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I yawned and asked, ¡°Who is Basil? And how can I find him?¡± Oh, and stop ordering me around. I¡¯m the royalty here, not you, I wanted to say. But this guy was dangerous even with a knife in him. Hell, he may have been more dangerous with it in him.

    ¡°He¡¯s probably out right now, working the forest,¡± he said, eyes shut tight in pain. ¡°Just go around back and call for him, he¡¯ll answer. I need to rest.¡±

    And he did. He passed out almost instantly, and I shook him for fear he was dead, though he breathed.

    I could have left during this time. I could have found Persea rather easily by wrapping around the lake again, and someone would have recognized me. It¡¯s a testament to the amount of control that man had of my situation. It wasn¡¯t just his words, but the way he said them; his voice had a level of power reserved for kings or gods, though I suspect even gods have a respect for the power in a voice like his.

    Plus the fact that I was attacked the last time I tried escaping wasn¡¯t really making the idea appealing, so finding this Basil guy seemed fine enough.

    I made my way around back like he had said to, sneezing here and there from the cold morning air. Weather was still volatile even this deep into the summer, with freezing mornings and scorching hot afternoons. After a moment or two of walking I decided to pull my arms from my sleeves and keep them inside my shirt as I used to when I was younger, collar up close to my mouth to breathe hot air into it in a feeble attempt to bring heat to my torso and face.

    Once I got all the way around back, I could begin to hear a thumping in the distance. Making my way toward it, I called out, ¡°Basil¡­? Basil!?¡±

    After a few times calling I heard another thunk and an unintelligible voice coming from deeper in the trees. I jogged in that direction, looking rather silly with my empty sleeves whipping around, before I found him. He wore only pants and a sleeveless shirt, his arms looking as large as tree trunks. He was built like the castle had looked, old and worn but with strong, sound structure. It looked like nothing could topple him over without giving everything they had and then some. His hair was a pale green, even his stubbly beard, as well his eyes. When I got there, he turned to me and cocked an eyebrow quizzically, obviously unused to the presence of a child.

    ¡°Hello there,¡± he boomed, a massive hand on his hip. ¡°Who might you be?¡±

    ¡°I am Prince Peppermint of Persea,¡± I said, a declaritiveness to my voice still present despite everything. ¡°The man who kidnapped me told me to get you so you may help him. He¡¯s injured and sleeping by your castle.¡±

    ¡°Prince Peppermint, you say,¡± Basil said, rubbing his stubble. ¡°And you say there¡¯s a man with you who kidnapped you and brought you here?¡±

    Irritated, I said, ¡°Yes, now may we please go? It¡¯s cold out here.¡±

    Laughing loud enough to send birds flying, he shook his head and picked up the pile of trees he had next to him as if they were twigs. My eyes nearly busted out of their sockets¡ªthere were five trees on his shoulder, I counted. Sure, they weren¡¯t the largest trees. But they were still trees. You don¡¯t just go picking those things up like that.

    ¡°You seem in a hurry for a boy in his pajamas,¡± he chortled, sauntering past me without a care.

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak to me like that,¡± I said, my voice cracking.

    Laughing some more, he said, ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m not used to having guests here these days. Come on then, let¡¯s get things all settled.¡±

    No one had ever spoken to me so frankly before, and I could feel the anger bubbling in my chest. But something about him told me that I could trust him.

    And on the walk back, I noticed something.

    All those trees, and he didn¡¯t have an axe.

    Once we got back to the front of the castle, he found the man on the ground and without so much as a grunt, he hoisted him up on his free shoulder and whispered something. We walked around a bit more until we reached a large double door, which I thought he might knock on or ask me to open or something. Instead he kicked it open and held it for me. I remember walking past him sheepishly, like I should have been doing something. But his face didn¡¯t seem annoyed at all. In fact, the whole time he wore a grin, albeit strained.

    The inside of the building was absolutely spartan. Wall to wall to floor to ceiling, nothing but brick and mortar. No carpet, no paintings, no furniture to speak of in the halls. It was more of a prison than a castle, and my mind started to race again with theories about my untimely demise, or a lifelong disappearance. But Basil just didn¡¯t fit in that theory, not yet. He emanated this sort of exuberance that just didn¡¯t feel evil.

    Little did I know, bad things don¡¯t mean evil. That was a hard lesson I learned much later. Good people do bad things all the time, and vice versa. Despite all that, however, Basil is the perfect example of a man who you feel comfortable with the moment you met.

    We walked a ways, up some spiral brick stairs, lines etched along the stairs where the trees scraped the bricks, showing that he would do this often. Then when we reached the top of the stairs he set the trees down and we walked down the hall and to the left, into a room with a bed and nothing else. Basil set down the man onto it, then knelt down and pulled a box free from under the bed.

    ¡°Wait here,¡± he told me. ¡°This shouldn¡¯t take me too long.¡± And he set to work, removing the dagger lodged in the man and stitching the wound up with ease. He wrapped the man up in a few bandages, then took out a vial of liquid that he rubbed on the man¡¯s lips, locked up the box and put it back under the bed. Then he set the man so that he was laying on his back, head on a sufficient amount of pillows, then he felt his chest and frowned. ¡°He¡¯s hot,¡± he muttered, then removed the top half of his clothes, leaving him shirtless and hoodless, allowing me to get a good look at the man who had taken me. He looked a little older than Basil, maybe by a few years, with midnight green hair that was long and wild. His eyebrows were big and bushy, and the scruffy amount of facial hair gave him this look somewhere between roguish and debonair. Compared to Basil, his body was nowhere near as large, but his muscles were strong and toned, making him appear a seasoned warrior with all the scars that went across his body.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s done,¡± Basil sighed, wiping his brow. ¡°He really got messed up this time, that knife wound was nasty.¡±

    I flinched at the mention of it. ¡°Will he be alright?¡±

    Chuckling, Basil nodded and slapped my shoulder lightly. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, boy. Sage is the Moss Knight for good reason. Give him a few days and he¡¯ll be on his feet and ready to take on the world.¡± Guiding me out of the room, he brightened up and said, ¡°I¡¯m absolutely starving, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Uhm¡­¡± I trailed off and nodded sheepishly.

    ¡°Good, good,¡± he smiled. ¡°Would you like the food to be hot?¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± I muttered, confused.

    ¡°Right then. Maybe some summertime pies and a glass of cider?¡±

    I just nodded, still unsure about it. Trusting strange food wasn¡¯t exactly easy to do. Poison ended more lives in royal families than anything else, and I was often cautioned against it. That food sounded delicious, however, and my stomach was empty after the long night I had.

    Hoisting up the trees he¡¯d dropped, Basil and I turned left and entered another hallway, then turned into a room that was actually furnished, though it was still spare. Commoners might have called it quaint. There was a small fireplace, and the lingering scent of fire and pine seemed pressed into the walls. There was an actual rug in there, as well as two chairs, one of which was considerably more worn than the other. The wall to the right had six bookshelves, all filled and unpresentable in their disorganization. The other wall was empty and had a ton of space, which I didn¡¯t understand right away.

    When Basil dropped all of the trees there it made sense. That was where he kept his firewood.

    ¡°Ahh,¡± he exhaled, relieved. ¡°It feels like those things get heavier every year, boy. Never get old.¡± He leaned backwards, cracking his back a few times loudly before sitting down in the more worn chair. ¡°Right, well sit down then. We should talk before we get to eating.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t order me,¡± I said, despite what had happened before.

    ¡°Fine then, it¡¯s your choice. These chairs are some of the comfiest in the whole world, though, that¡¯s a guarantee from yours truly.¡± The way his eyes smiled at me made me think he wasn¡¯t lying.

    Fighting him was useless, and I felt guilty being mean in light of his hospitality. So I sat in the chair. I just about melted, it was ridiculously comfortable, warming me even with no fire going.

    He smirked at me when he saw my reaction. ¡°See? Old Basil isn¡¯t a liar.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t that old,¡± I grumbled, turning pink.

    Laughing, he said, ¡°No, I¡¯m not. But I¡¯m a lot older than you, and probably older than you think. In any case, I suppose I should ask if you¡¯re doing alright in light of the situation.¡±

    That made me blink. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°The coup, of course,¡± he said, matter-of-factly. ¡°I mean, Avocado changed hands last night. And they tried killing you. Something like that should have you shaken you up I would think.¡±

    My words were slow and deliberate. ¡°How do you know about that? I¡¯m not even sure I understand what happened and I was there.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± he said to himself, nodding. ¡°Well, forget about how I know. I just want to know how you¡¯re doing. You okay? Got any wounds I can¡¯t see?¡± He pointed to his chest. ¡°Feel okay in here? Something like that will do a lot to a boy¡¯s heart.¡±

    The question confused me, and I showed it on my face. ¡°I guess I¡¯m fine, yeah. But my mother was still there when that man kidnapped me.¡±

    Basil frowned. ¡°Your mother should be fine, boy. And that man didn¡¯t kidnap you. He saved you.¡±

    All the heat rushed to my head and I said, ¡°I¡¯m in a strange building with strange people I just met, you tell me my kingdom is gone basically¡ª¡±

    ¡°Whoa, I didn¡¯t say that,¡± Basil interrupted, but I kept going.

    ¡°¡ªand you¡¯re asking me all these questions, giving me orders, you dress like some commoner, and this place is damn empty. I don¡¯t know what makes you think anyone with some semblance of a brain wouldn¡¯t think they were taken against their will, which I was, I might add. He grabbed me without my consent. That¡¯s treason, or a death sentence¡ª¡±

    Basil got up and grabbed me in an attempt to settle me down, but I hit him hard in the chest. The impact should have hurt, but he just gave me this stony face, a reaction I¡¯d see often in him.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°Settle down,¡± he said, his voice lowered. ¡°Shh, come here.¡±

    He hugged me. Which seemed inappropriate, and I hit him again. But he kept hugging me anyway.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be fine, boy. We¡¯ll get things fixed, you¡¯ll see your mother again, trust me.¡±

    The tone in which he spoke broke something in me and I just started bawling. I didn¡¯t hug him back. The royal in me, someone above that sort of thing, couldn¡¯t allow himself to do something like that. He held me tight, and that was fine.

    When I had calmed down, we settled into our chairs again and we sat in silence for a bit, myself looking downward in shame, Basil staring at me thoughtfully, his eyes too hard to look at. After a minute or two of that, he sighed and said, ¡°Let me go grab the food. It shouldn¡¯t take me long, I had the pie baking before I got to work earlier.¡±

    Basil came back with the food, and the tears on my face had dried and my head had healed slightly. He had a smile on his face again, looking pleased with the food he brought. ¡°Fresh summertime pies, two glasses of orange cider from the archipelago, and some chocolate n¡¯ nut n¡¯ butter pasties for a bit of energy.¡±

    He set the food out and made a plate for each of us. I¡¯d never seen a plate so packed full with food; it was almost intimidating. Basil took a bite of the pie and looked like he was going to pass out from pleasure, the way his eyes rolled. ¡°Well, don¡¯t just sit there,¡± he finally said to me. ¡°Go on, eat up. Eat up!¡±

    I took a bite of the chocolate n¡¯ nut n¡¯ butter pastie first, and the flavors were so rich and full, my whole mouth was happy. Basil had to have been the best cook I¡¯d ever met. He may still be the best cook I¡¯ve ever met¡ªjust don¡¯t tell my wife that! The way he was able to bring out every flavor from each food was incredible. The summertime pie was so filling that I thought I couldn¡¯t finish halfway through, but I finished anyway because of the wonderful medley of summer fruits and filling and dough, with a golden crisp surrounding it all that made each bite satisfying. And the cider tasted so much like summer, it transported me outside in the sun, and made me feel warm from inside out.

    Basil rubbed his stomach and exhaled with satisfaction. ¡°You enjoy it?¡± he asked, his voice strained from being full.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said with an enthusiasm I hadn¡¯t had for a long time.

    ¡°Good,¡± he said. Then he got up and stretched, ¡°Come on, let me take you to your room. You can take a bath and sleep there.¡±

    This time I didn¡¯t want to get up, not because he had ordered me, but because I was trying to digest my food. But I managed to get up, bringing my cider with me. He lead me down the hall and up some more stairs, telling me about the place all the while.

    ¡°I know this castle is probably a bit more empty than you¡¯re used to,¡± he said in a way that sounded like he¡¯d said it many times. ¡°But we live below our means here so that we may enjoy the finer things. Many castles carry extensive amounts of expensive works of art, exotic wares or trophies from hunting trips, or things like rugs they got in trades using the money of the common folk. All just so they can maintain an image they think they need to have, but the reality is they¡¯re cheating themselves, you see?¡± He was waiting for me to answer, but I just nodded since I was growing sleepier by the step.

    ¡°Here, we hunt for food, not sport. We train our bodies as well as our minds, and we only hold what we need.¡±

    ¡°Why do you have so many books, then?¡± I asked, yawning loudly. We turned a corner and entered what was to be my room. It had a single bed, a window, and a tub for bathing. A change of clothes was set on the bed, and a single book was next to the bed on the floor. I was too tired to realize then, but it was painfully obvious that I was being expected.

    ¡°Previous tenant,¡± Basil said with a smile. ¡°Sage never purchased any of them, and I only know a few of the authors. But books are important, you know. Training the mind and the body, remember?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± I said, rubbing my eyes.

    Basil smiled and pat my back firmly. ¡°Go on, get some rest. We¡¯ll talk more when you get up.¡±

    I removed my clothes once he left, tossing them in a pile on the floor. Then I got under the covers, not even bothering to remove the fresh clothes that were set out for me. The blankets were musty, and the colors had faded from the sun pouring into the room, and the bed was small enough that if I had been fully grown I¡¯d have not fit at all on it. But at that time, it was exactly what I needed; in mere moments, I passed into sleep with a smile on my face. Because though everything had gone wrong for me, I was well fed and in bed. And that was enough.

    ???????

    My dreams were chaotic and restless. They lacked a form or story, there was nothing happening, just the raw emotion of fear and distress. I¡¯m unsure if that¡¯s what woke me up, or the argument taking place outside my room, but the two melded together and I lurched from my bed wildly.

    ¡°Get back to bed,¡± Basil barked. He sounded frustrated and tired, and when my eyes opened I saw that it was late into the night, the moon high and bright in the window.

    ¡°No,¡± the other voice growled. It was the man who had taken me here, Sage. ¡°We¡¯ve already wasted time by stopping here. I need to take the boy far away before they catch on and come here.¡±

    ¡°What you need is rest,¡± Basil sighed. ¡°You haven¡¯t even eaten yet.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need food,¡± the man said, and his footsteps grew louder.

    Basil¡¯s voice suddenly found its stride, and he began yelling as if he were Sage¡¯s father, in a way that made my heart race and sent me deeper beneath the covers. ¡°Don¡¯t need food? What will you do when you pass out and the boy can¡¯t save you?¡±

    ¡°Just stay out of this, Basil. You aren¡¯t supposed to be helping us anyway.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who came here,¡± Basil shouted, then took a deep breath. ¡°Look, the boy¡¯s still sleeping. We can¡¯t be so loud.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one being loud,¡± the man said, a snideness to his voice.

    ¡°Just shut up and listen to me. You need to sit down and eat. Now.¡±

    There was a silence between them, and I sat up in bed in earnest, trying my best to eavesdrop. ¡°If you don¡¯t sit down and eat on your own, I¡¯ll force you myself.¡±

    After a few seconds, the man chortled. ¡°Come now, Basil. You can¡¯t do that without being condemned to death, and I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t want to disrupt your quiet life here any more than we already have. I¡¯ll be taking Mint out of here, and that¡¯s that.¡±

    The door swung inward and I lay down under the covers, hoping that no one saw the movement.

    Basil went to grab the man but the man disappeared and reappeared at the bed, his hand on the covers. He ripped them off of me with savage speed, and revealed to himself and Sage my largely naked body. Both of them grunted and gasped in shock, and I felt myself suddenly wake up completely.

    ¡°Get out of here,¡± I blurted out, holding a pillow closely to my groin.

    The man, undeterred, grabbed for me and I yelled, ¡°Get the hell out of here right now before I stab you again! You won¡¯t touch me!¡±

    Basil walked in and grabbed his shoulder, unable to hide a smirk. ¡°Look, you need to rest and he obviously isn¡¯t going to make things easy for you right now. He¡¯s more tired than you are, and more naked to boot. Just give him some time, it¡¯s night time anyway.¡±

    They walked out, the man glaring at me over his shoulder, his eyes showing red around his pupils. It looked like he hadn¡¯t slept a wink.

    Once they closed the door, I felt too awake to return to bed right away so I went over to the bath and walked in, sitting down on the steps inside. The water was warm, and I felt as if I would be tired once more if I stayed too long. But I was confident I would be fine long enough to think.

    Why was that man so intent on getting me out of here? I figured that taking me to this place was the extent of the journey, but apparently we only stopped here because he wasn¡¯t fit to keep going. And he seemed pretty sure that we were still in danger here. Basil didn¡¯t seem to think so, or care. But from what little I¡¯d seen, it seemed he didn¡¯t get fazed by much of anything.

    He did care, however, about us leaving.

    The way he spoke made Sage sound¡­ scary. Really scary, actually. Getting on Sage¡¯s bad side would be bad news, which was hard for me to admit since he seemed more like a common man than a royal.

    And the most unforgivable thing was that man had called me Mint. He should have referred to me as my full name Peppermint, out of respect.

    Before I was finished bathing, I decided to fight him if he called me that again. A foolish idea, I know, and even then I was sure it would go poorly. But I was taught to uphold my own self image, and with it in question like that I had to make sure he knew where I stood.

    Besides, back then I believed I could go home if I won.

    This time before going back to bed I made sure to put on my clothes, or at least my pants. It felt good to be clean of the sweat and outside air, and the clothes had a feeling of freshness to them that made me feel ready to do anything¡ªin this case, ready to sleep.

    ? ??????

    When I woke up next it was morning, the sun blasting its way in on my face through the window. I smelled morning dew, the blankets, the musty smell of sleep, and fresh bacon. The bacon was what really got me up. Basil stood next to my bed and was setting up a cart with a plate of all sorts of food, all of which looked delicious, most of which I had never seen or heard of before.

    ¡°Ah, good morning, Mint,¡± he said, which irked me but he had food so the fight wasn¡¯t in me. ¡°We¡¯ve got a good breakfast this morning; fresh peach cakes, some bicorn bacon and hard boiled bicorn eggs, and hot summer soup. I figure with all this food, water would be better and less filling for you, but if you want cider I can go grab some for you.¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°Just don¡¯t call me Mint and we¡¯re good, thanks.¡±

    He smiled at me and said, ¡°That¡¯s your name though, isn¡¯t it? What else should I call you?¡±

    ¡°Your royal majesty, or Prince Peppermint,¡± I said before taking a massive bite of bacon.

    ¡°That¡¯s much too long, Mint will suffice,¡± Basil said, then he walked out. Which was good because that had pissed me off. These people had no respect, even the help was being disrespectful to me, even worse since I especially liked him and his cooking.

    Once I finished the food, which was once again delicious, I got completely dressed in the clothes that were set out for me. The shirt was much like theirs, white and without sleeves which would be nice in the hot afternoons but not the cold mornings. The cloak was a midnight purple, with a hood that would conceal most of my face and material that was light enough to still be breathable and easy to wear. There were no mirrors in that sparse room, but I imagined I looked pretty wicked, which as a young man this was always the goal. I wouldn¡¯t admit it then, but wearing something like that was refreshing.

    After that, I took a deep breath and prepared as well as I could to meet with Sage to finish what had happened before. No matter what, it seemed I would end up going away with that wild man, so it made the most sense to just get it over with. But that didn¡¯t make my knees quake any less.

    Just thinking about him made my whole body shudder.

    I went down the hall and peered into the many, many empty rooms on that floor before deciding to head down to the next one. That floor was equally empty, even the fire room was empty save for the scent of pine needles. I started calling out for Sage, but no one responded save for the echo of my own call.

    Then, somewhere between my voice calling and my own echo calling back, I heard a rustling outside, accompanied by the booming voice of the man, my captor, roaring out a challenge that brought even me hobbling to the window to see what the fuss was about, the resounding call of a fight brought me like a moth to light.

    There were ten men. They all wore light armor, probably leather or some form of hide¡ªdue to the heat metal would have burned their skin off and probably killed them on the way here¡ªand they all carried hefty clubs made of iron, long bars with hilts wrapped in silk, shimmering with a blinding white light when the sun caught it right, making me shield my eyes. An obvious leader stood at the center of the semicircle, his head they only one unprotected by a helmet and instead showing off a circlet of gold and silver, and he carried a sword too ornate to have ever seen actual use, too small to be wielded by a man, a mere boys toy. When he spoke, his voice slithered from between his lips and I could barely even hear it from my vantage point, let alone understand the words he spoke. But his face showed me all I needed to know; the prince of Cashew came for his bounty.

    From against the wall I could see my captor lashing out wildly, looking like a ravenous bear guarding its child, clawing bark and roaring with a strength only found in those with something to protect. Behind him and to his left was Basil, big arms crossed and his face a deep set frown, the lines on his forehead deepening in worry. He turned and looked up at me, and when we locked eyes his seemed to glow a vibrant green. I felt mine widen, and he gave me a smile so wide and jovial that a calm swept over me and I stood up a little straighter, ready to witness whatever it was that was to happen here.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Basil said, his voice so great that it was able to travel to me without any need for me to strain my ears. He placed a palm on the man¡¯s shoulder and leaned in to whisper something to him. Sage struggled a little and I heard him yell something; within a second or two, however, he calmed down, his breathing slowed. Something Basil had said brought him back down to Longan.

    The prince of Cashew, Sumac, laughed with a grace fit for royalty, which is to say he snickered airily. Then he drew his sword out, the light bouncing off it into my eyes, and I distinctly heard him call out, ¡°Kill them both.¡±

    Stepping to my left a bit to avoid the light of the sword, I stared out from the shadows of the castle so no one could see me. My heart pounded in my throat as thoughts of being dragged back to Persea, with Sumac doing sadistic things the whole way, cutting as he pleased with that toy of his, hammered my head with such strength that if the battle hadn¡¯t ended in an instant as it did I would have been left with a magnificent headache.

    Sage belted out a laugh and stepped in front of the men with a care I¡¯d describe as lackadaisical. He then made a fist with his left hand, locked it under his armpit with his elbow pointed out above his back like a wing, crouching slightly with his knees bent perpendicular. Then, when he was nearly surrounded, he shot his fist out with tremendous speed and yelled with it.

    What should have been a simple punch was a hurricane.

    Wind shot out with enough force to knock every single man in front of him head over heels, mouth to ass, across the ground, passing the trees in front of them, hurtling deep into that forest for what I could only guess to be forever. Even above that whirlwind I could hear the screams of the men, the loud, tremendous cracking of the trees and foliage that were in the way of them, and even the calls of the animals escaping the natural disaster heading their way.

    Even Sumac got knocked way, way back, his head hitting at least two trees on his way out.

    Basil let out another immense laugh as he slapped Sage¡¯s shoulder. The wind was still going a thousand iles south, back to Persea and for all I knew well over the sea. I was absolutely stunned; how the hell did he do that? Was that magic?

    Sage and Basil went back into the castle and, after I got my bearings and decided it best not to think so hard about what just happened, I ran down the hall and down the stairs, nearly slamming into Sage when I got to the bottom.

    ¡°Oh, there you are,¡± he said, still laughing. ¡°We were worried they might have snuck in somehow, but it seems you¡¯re still okay.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help it, and I asked, ¡°What in the hell did you do to them? Are you some kind of wizard or something?¡±

    Instead of answering he grabbed me and pulled me close. ¡°No need to ask any questions. Just thank Basil and we¡¯ll be on our way.¡±

    ¡°I think not,¡± Basil said, folding his arms.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need food, and he¡¯s well rested,¡± Sage said calmly. ¡°You¡¯ve seen I speak the truth; people are after us, and they won¡¯t stop until we¡¯ve been captured. Specifically the boy. So if you don¡¯t mind¡ª¡±

    Basil grinned and nodded, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll come along.¡±

    I gasped in surprise.

    Sage even grunted in surprise.

    ¡°What? I¡¯m coming with you and that¡¯s final,¡± Basil said in reply to our faces. ¡°You need someone sensible with you. Besides, I know from experience you aren¡¯t the best teacher.¡±

    ¡°Teacher?¡± I asked, more concerned.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Sage growled. ¡°Both of you.¡± They both stared at each other, then Sage sighed and ran a hand through his dark green hair. ¡°Fine, fine. You can come. Just don¡¯t go filling his head with that shit you¡¯re always going on about.¡±

    ¡°Done,¡± Basil said. ¡°Just let me go pack up and we¡¯ll be on our way.¡±

    Sage ran off up the stairs, and I looked to the man holding me and asked, ¡°What was it you did out there?¡±

    Smirking, he shook his head.

    ¡°That will be your first lesson.¡±

    Before I could ask further, he kept running up the stairs and called down to me, ¡°Once upon a time, boy, I was something great.¡±

 Chapter Four

    It took a few minutes for the both of them to return, and I stood waiting in silence at the bottom of the steps, pondering leaving anyway. I thought better of it; if Sumac was looking for me, things would end poorly. Basil and Sage came down the stairs soon, wearing new clothing; Basil wore a dark colored cloak and was in the process of sheathing two short swords on his back, and Sage came down in a bright green cloak, the hood down, and he wore all white underneath, and he carried a dagger and longsword on his hip.

    ¡°Where are my weapons?¡± I huffed.

    ¡°You won¡¯t be needing them,¡± Sage said.

    Frowning, I crossed my arms and asked, ¡°But aren¡¯t I being chased? That¡¯s why you kidnapped me in the first place. So I should have some form of defense, right?¡±

    Sage narrowed his eyes and Basil smirked, shrugging when Sage turned to him for support. ¡°Couple things,¡± Sage finally said, kneeling down so we were eye level. I didn¡¯t like that; it was like he was trying to be my father. ¡°One: you nearly killed me when you had my dagger before, so you¡¯ve proved you¡¯re untrustworthy to be near with a weapon.¡±

    Which made me turn pink; obviously he was correct in saying that.

    ¡°Two,¡± he continued, ¡°you haven¡¯t any combat skill whatsoever, do you?¡± My face grew more rose colored. ¡°My understanding is that you were one of the most unskilled boys to ever train in Persea.¡±

    ¡°How did you¡ªshut up. Fine, I get it. No weapons.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Sage smirked, with Basil chuckling behind him.

    ¡°Basil and myself will protect you. Anyway,¡± he said, putting a hand on Basil¡¯s shoulder, ¡°We should get going now that we¡¯re all ready.¡±

    Basil nodded. ¡°We haven¡¯t got a lot of time, those guys should be getting up by now since you didn¡¯t kill them.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Sage shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t hit them that hard, but the fact that they just met me should be giving them at least some cause to stop and think about what just happened. To a boy as young as that one, I¡¯m not supposed to be real. His confidence should be shot.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, hopeful for a real answer this time.

    ¡°He¡¯s a legend around these parts,¡± Basil said, his expression one of pride. ¡°Back during the last war between Avocado and Cashew, Sage here single handedly kept Cashew from infiltrating our country and taking over. He took out countless soldiers at the battle of narrow bridge.¡±

    I was sure he had done more than that. After all, being a war hero doesn¡¯t usually net you an empty castle that was more like a prison. Besides, as the prince of the country you would think I¡¯d know who the guy was at the very least; secrets aren¡¯t as common among royalty as most people seem to think.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Sage drawled, ¡°let¡¯s just get going. It would be best if we got out of the country fast.¡±

    Basil grunted, ¡°Keep yourself in check, you aren¡¯t supposed to be outside, remember?¡±

    Sage laughed airily and said, ¡°Be outside? I¡¯m supposed to not even exist.¡±

    Then Sage picked me up and put me on his shoulders, without so much as even asking if I wanted to be up there, and before I could argue with him he said, ¡°I know you¡¯re a bit old for this, but just stay put. This will make the trip a little faster, alright?¡±

    I was about to say something but I suddenly found myself holding tight to his neck, picking a god and praying. They both moved so fast that we were out into the forest in a few blinks of my eyes, both of them walking in step with each other as if they had done this a thousand times before. ¡°Alright, so where to?¡± Basil asked to clarify. ¡°We headed north?¡±

    Sage nodded and crouched down into a stretch, despite me still being on his shoulder. ¡°Yeah, Red Bay. Our boat should still be there.¡±

    Basil smirked. ¡°A boat? Belonging to a false man?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, real funny. You gonna joke the whole time or just until I hit you?¡±

    ¡°Touchy,¡± Basil laughed. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll shut up.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Sage grunted, finished stretching. ¡°Let¡¯s get a move on then, shall we?¡± Then, to me he said in a low whisper, ¡°Hold on tight, kid.¡±

    Then they jumped over the forest.

    Now I don¡¯t mean that they jumped over the whole thing and went clear across the country, no. That would be ridiculous, now, wouldn¡¯t it? No, I mean that they jumped over trees and, every tenth or twentieth tree, they would take another step using the tip top of those tall, blue elder pines. The wind was pushing us forward, and it seemed like we were being pulled upward by some tornado that instead of spinning moved in the direction we were going, as if it picked us up and said, ¡°I¡¯m going that way myself, why not come along then?¡±

    The trees would bend each time they stomped on them, creaking from the force of it. At first the whole ordeal sent my body to conniptions, but crazy is relative to experience and soon I became acclimated to flying through the sky atop trees like some sort of wild animal, all of our cloaks billowing in the updraft, Basil wearing that signature smile of his and Sage trying to hide his smile even while doing something that seemed so fun.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Birds were fluttering right next to us, and I could reach out and touch them if I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d fall over if I tried. The tops of the trees all swam by as if it were the waves of a strange, blue ocean.

    After a time, Sage finally called out to Basil and the two came to a halt, perched atop the trees, the trunks bending with unnerving creaks and cracks before settling beneath their weight.

    ¡°Why are we stopping?¡± Basil asked, yelling more due to distance than frustration.

    ¡°I remembered something,¡± Sage called, his voice making my ears ring. ¡°We should visit the Pit before we leave.¡±

    Basil stared back at us for a moment before shaking his head. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t something we should be voting on, Basil,¡± Sage said. ¡°If not for our own sakes, we should at least show the boy here. He probably has no idea of the Pit.¡±

    He was silent a moment, before shrugging, ¡°Sure, but we make it quick. We¡¯ve already wasted too much time as it is.¡±

    Sage called out, ¡°Thank you,¡± and then before we started going he muttered to me, ¡°Overbearing monkey, ain¡¯t he?¡±

    I tried not to laugh because I felt like I wouldn¡¯t be able to hold onto him, but I did giggle a bit.

    ¡°You have anyone like that?¡± he asked me.

    ¡°What, someone overbearing?¡± Sage nodded to me. ¡°Uh,¡± I said, thinking. ¡°You.¡±

    Sage replied with a cachinnation that scared the birds away. ¡°You wound me, boy! But I see where you¡¯re coming from.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure how to reply to that, but silence made me uncomfortable, so I asked him, ¡°What¡¯s the Pit?¡±

    A smile tugged at his face. ¡°I figured you didn¡¯t know. The Pit was a very important place to travelers leaving Avocado, at least it was when I was younger. I¡¯m not so sure it is anymore, Basil tells me it¡¯s all but forgotten despite its size.¡±

    ¡°Is it large?¡± I asked, reaffirming my grip. It seemed like he was moving faster and faster, and the trees were becoming wider apart, giving me a severe sense of vertigo. Looking down became a bad idea.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he nodded. ¡°It¡¯s nearly bottomless, and it¡¯s an ile wide in diameter.¡±

    I knew that that was large, but I hadn¡¯t actually seen anything so large in my life up to that point, so there was no way for me to really quantify what he was saying. He realized this and said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll see what it¡¯s like soon enough. It¡¯s a religious experience for travelers like us.¡±

    Traveler¡¯s like us, he said.

    It was beginning to get more difficult to think of them as mere kidnappers.

    ???????????????

    By the time we made it to the Pit, the sun had nearly set completely, which was still ridiculous due to the amount of distance we covered within that time frame, running across half the country at a full run¡ªor jump, I suppose¡ªwithin a span of half a day, no breaks. I was exhausted and I wasn¡¯t even doing all the work, I was just holding onto Sage¡¯s back like a fly, but even that was taxing on my shoulders and upper arms especially. Sage and Basil seemed to be doing alright, Basil more so than Sage but that was in no large part due to Sage being bedridden a mere day beforehand and recovering from a stab wound; he could be forgiven for breathing a little heavy from a day like this. And even through my exhaustion, both mental and physical, I could see that I needed to stand tall and take in what I was seeing.

    It certainly was a pit.

    The ground seemed to just stop, the trees dissipating around the pit like the area was under quarantine, the few trees that were there small and almost sickly looking. There was no grass, there were no rocks, there was only the Pit. I didn¡¯t need to be very close to see down it, due to the size, its area taking up my vision almost entirely without even trying. The ocean¡¯s emerald coastline was far away from where we stood, and it seemed as if the Pit went on for as long to our left and right as the sea did. Sage had said it was nearly bottomless, and though I didn¡¯t get close enough to check, I believed him.

    We stood about ten steps away from it, myself wrapped in my cloak in an attempt to warm myself up from the travel over, as the windchill had made my skin go frighteningly cold. Sage stepped closer until he had gotten right on the edge, then he sat with his feet underneath himself, his hands on his knees, the wind blowing his hair all over the place, blowing so hard I thought he might teeter over and fall in.

    He exhaled slowly and then, with practiced hands, drew one hand to his face, index finger pointed at his nose, and his other hand was held straight up over his head, palm facing out toward the ocean. I looked over to Basil to see what he was doing, but it seemed he wasn¡¯t going to participate and instead he watched from my position, his eyes darting back every so often to see if we¡¯d been followed. Paranoia was his prayer.

    No one came, though. Basil and I stood together in an awkward silence, only the wind sounding its silent call in the background. When Sage got up for us to leave, the sun had set completely and the blues of the foliage darkened to near blackness.

    ¡°You take too long,¡± Basil said, jesting while yawning.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Sage said, looking beat. ¡°Tradition is good for you, though. Helps keep the mind clear when things are looking wild. You could use it, you ask me.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± Basil scoffed. ¡°Let¡¯s get going right now before they catch up.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you¡¯re so concerned,¡± I said. Both of them stared at me like they¡¯d forgotten I could speak. Smiling, I said, ¡°Look, I¡¯m just saying Sage blasted them pretty hard back there and at this point they¡¯re probably too busy trying to get things under control back at Persea to worry about me.¡±

    Sage sighed and came over to pick me up, and Basil shook his head. ¡°Look,¡± Basil said, serious for once, ¡°if you were just a prince they probably would give up, and if this was just a simple coup for land then sure they¡¯d stop. But they¡¯re going to chase us until we lose them completely and fall off the face of Longan without a trace.¡±

    Narrowing my eyes, I asked, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    We jumped then, and I had to shield my eyes and hang on tight to Sage, but he said simply to me, ¡°A coup leads to a war, but there is no army. We¡¯re being attacked by small groups of assassins, nothing so great as an army or anything. The citizens of Persea most likely have no idea that anything has happened.¡±

    The gears turned in my head and I realized that this meant both Basil and Sage believed that my mother was in on what had happened. When I mentioned this to him, he shrugged and said, ¡°That could be the case. But we aren¡¯t sure; it¡¯s entirely possible she could be being held against her will.¡±

    After a few moments, he added, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll see her again no matter what, right?¡±

    Though it was cryptic, and I felt he meant it as both a good and a bad thing, I nodded and said, ¡°Right.¡± And while I hung on for dear life to his shoulders, I daydreamed of what I¡¯d say to her, and what I wanted to ask her. No matter what, these daydreams had me hugging her, and Sage¡¯s cloak was hot and wet that night.

 Chapter Five

    We stopped traveling at inhuman speeds a few hundred steps outside of Red Bay, presumably not to draw attention to ourselves, though I felt our group would stand out regardless due to the matching cloaks and hushed conversations. When we entered the town I realized no one would look at us even if we did jump in, or even fly in on crows the size of mountains. For a little port town, it was filled with a hustle and bustle that I wasn¡¯t really expecting, which in hindsight was due to my never leaving Persea and having little to no understanding of our world. Despite having an interest in the goings ons of the town, my hood was low enough that I¡¯d have to crane my neck just to see from it.

    ¡°Stay close,¡± Sage whispered to me, and he wrapped his cloak around me so I was partially draped, even more impaired.

    Basil lead us to an inn, and it began drizzling when he and Sage discussed what they would do. ¡°Should we stop here tonight, Sage?¡± he asked, voice low.

    Sage thought for a moment before nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll check in with the boy. You should go to a pub, see if you can uh¡ª¡± he paused briefly, making strong eye contact with Basil, ¡°¡ªgrab some food, take a break. Drink a little.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Basil nodded, and he walked off.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get inside,¡± Sage said, a reassuring smile on his face.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it dangerous for us to stop?¡± I asked, trying to stay quiet.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Sage said. ¡°It is in our best interest to take a moment and plan ahead, however. Besides, we made very good time; we covered most of the country in a day, and that should buy us more than enough time to figure out what our course of action should be. We¡¯ll discuss this more in the room.¡±

    He brought me over to a desk where a large, hairy woman tended some books and drinks. ¡°Good evening,¡± she rasped, her voice scratchy and syrupy.

    ¡°Evening,¡± Sage nodded, removing his hood. The woman¡¯s eyes widened and Sage quickly held a finger to his lips. ¡°I would like a room with my, uh¡­ nephew. A room at the top of this building, preferably.¡±

    Wordlessly, her mouth still slack, she rummaged in her drawer and pulled out a key. Sage took it, then cocked an eyebrow and rocked back and forth a little before asking, ¡°So, would you like payment?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± she gasped, looking out of it. ¡°Yes, of course.¡±

    Sage smirked and reached into his cloak, then dropped four coins onto the counter. ¡°I¡¯ll leave the key on the counter when we leave. Oh, also, I have an associate who is out at the pub right now, he will be returning here tonight. Will that be an issue?¡±

    ¡°Not at all,¡± she shook her head, cheeks slapping around loosely. ¡°Just keep things quiet, please. We are a peaceful town, sir, and we¡¯d like to keep it that way.¡±

    ¡°Perish the thought,¡± Sage smirked. ¡°Well, let¡¯s be on our way, boy.¡±

    He lead me down the hall, then up two flights of stairs, down the final hall and into our room two doors in. The room itself was sparse, but homey; two beds, two chairs with a small table, a wardrobe, a window to look out of, and a small but warm amount of candles for light. Sage shut the window, pulled the curtains closed, then removed his cloak before sitting down on one of the beds. When I didn¡¯t join him, he jerked his head to the other bed and commanded, ¡°Sit.¡±

    Narrowing my eyes, I muttered, ¡°I¡¯m no dog,¡± before taking my seat opposite of his.

    ¡°No,¡± he conceded. ¡°However, in my presence you will do as I say. Is that clear?¡±

    My face bloomed into a redder shade, and I elected to maintain my hood when I nodded.

    ¡°Good. Well, now that we are comfortable, let me just say I apologize for the method of action we chose to do all of this. I¡¯m well aware that you feel as if you have been kidnapped, which in all sense of the word you have been, and for that I am deeply sorry.¡± Sage leaned forward then, placing a large, firm hand on my knee. ¡°Understand this, though; it was not for no reason. We have been keeping track of movement in the kingdoms for a while now, and we knew of this attack well before it happened. We orchestrated this kidnapping to save you. Do you know why?¡±

    I thought about it, then frowned. ¡°Take your hand off of me,¡± I snapped. Sage smiled and he did so. ¡°I do not accept your apology. In answer to your last question, I couldn¡¯t possibly figure out why criminals do the things they do. After all, I am not a criminal.¡±

    ¡°If you can¡¯t get in the mind of a criminal,¡± Sage said, his voice growing in size, ¡°then you are not fit to be a king. What man can judge a man he cannot understand? No man can do that, not well anyway.¡± Stretching out his arms, he cracked his neck then began cracking each finger individually. ¡°You were taken away from your castle to remove a piece of the puzzle. Being the heir to the Avocado throne, you were to play a pivotal role in this new development. Cashew would use you as a face for their ownership, using you to speak to the people and gaining support for the new way of life. And they would use you until you were useful no more,¡± which he punctuated with a resounding crack of his thumb.

    What he said made sense with the knowledge available to me. And his apology was heartfelt. Still, my refusal to believe him was strong.

    ¡°What makes you think I should believe you?¡± I asked, tapping a nervous finger on my forearm.

    ¡°Simple,¡± Sage smiled. ¡°You either stay with me, and get through this alive. Or I let you go, and you wake up dead tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°If they want to use me, then why would they kill me?¡±

    ¡°Good question, for a dull boy,¡± he growled. ¡°But a simple answer: you¡¯ve been gone too long. They have already told your story. You¡¯re dead, and as far as they are concerned that means you running around alive is a liability.¡±

    ¡°And how are you aware that¡¯s the case?¡± I asked, incredulous. ¡°Who told you? An informant? A soldier at the castle during the coup?¡±

    Frowning, Sage admitted, ¡°Right now it¡¯s merely a hypothesis¡ª¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°See, you¡¯re just a glorified liar¡ª¡±

    ¡°A hypothesis,¡± he yelled, bringing my end of the argument to an abrupt halt. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and finished, ¡°A hypothesis that is based on years of playing these war games. I¡¯ve been around, kid. I¡¯ve seen more than you could possibly read about in that library you hang about in.¡±

    ¡°Library?¡± I repeated, confused. Sage looked away for a second, fast but noticeable. ¡°And before that you said you knew about my poor marks in combat training. Was it just my country¡¯s affairs you were studying, or was I also in your syllabus?¡±

    Rubbing his forehead, he said, ¡°Studying you was something that needed to be done to know how and when to find you, and figure out how to go about retrieving you. There was no other motivation.¡±

    Which I didn¡¯t believe, not for a second. Once we got onto the subject of myself, he¡¯d become less sure of himself, his voice losing that trademark power of his. Something was up, and I had to find out.

    Sage yawned and stretched, then fell back in his bed. ¡°I¡¯m going to catch some shut eye. Wake me up when Basil comes back, or take a nap yourself. Tomorrow will most likely be a long day.¡±

    He was right, of course; it would be a long day. However, if he truly believed I could sleep right then and there, he was a fool.

    ??? ??? ?

    I don¡¯t recall what I was thinking or really doing in the time between when Sage began his nap and Basil returned, but I do remember looking out the window a lot, enjoying the view in some capacity. Now that I could actually look at the town, I saw it was nothing like Persea; where Persea was a massive, bustling city filled with tons of more upper class society, the Red Bay was far from such an echelon of prudeness; it seemed no one walking the streets was without a weapon, children included, and everyone wore clothes that kept their features hidden, as if everyone were hiding secrets. I didn¡¯t want to admit it, but if that were the case then we were hiding in the perfect place already, our disguises being in plain sight.

    It made me resent Sage even more.

    Basil slammed the door inward so loud that I nearly fell from the window. When I turned to see what the problem was, I saw that there was in fact no problem, Basil was just having trouble walking in with all the food he was carrying.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he giggled, ¡°Dunno my own strength sometimes. You mind?¡±

    I did mind. So I sat and watched while he struggled to unload the spread onto the small table we had; there was a large container of liquid, and three bowls of a soup that looked especially viscous and smelled of questionable meaty origin. Basil saw my face, and instead of being angry for me not helping him, he just sighed and nodded. ¡°I know, not exactly the most attractive looking food. The taste is also questionable, but I haven¡¯t gotten sick and I would have been by now so it should be safe.¡±

    My upper lip curled as a bubble popped in one bowl. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m told,¡± he sighed again, scratching his head, ¡°That this is some kind of fish stew.¡±

    ¡°Fish? What kind of fish?¡±

    ¡°I asked the same thing.¡±

    We looked at each other and Basil started laughing, shaking his head, then he began downing his bowl of soup. I took a sip and put it down, leaving it untouched for the remainder of the night. Sage was still knocked out when I looked at him, so I walked over and shook his body until he lurched awake, sucking air like he was underwater.

    Breathing shakily, he glared at us before slowly coming to his senses. ¡°Basil,¡± he grunted, voice cracking awake.

    ¡°Sage,¡± he nodded. ¡°You enjoy your nap?¡±

    ¡°Somewhat,¡± he said, yawning. Basil passed him a bowl and he wolfed it down without question. ¡°So, what have you learned? Anything of value?¡±

    ¡°There are murmurings,¡± Basil lowered his voice, and we all leaned in so we could hear each other. I wasn¡¯t sure why, but they wanted to speak as quietly as possible. If anyone wanted to eavesdrop, I was sure we would have noticed. But they were paranoid, and I was not the most powerful man in the room; my reason had no sway.

    ¡°Murmurings?¡± Sage prodded.

    Nodding, Basil continued, ¡°Already people speak of the coup. Cashew¡¯s people have spread rumors as fast as they could, letting everyone know that Avocado has fallen. People are confused, unsure of how to take it. We weren¡¯t at war until last night, after all. Now the commoners are expected to believe they are a part of a different regime, all from hearsay.¡±

    Sage leaned back in his bed, scratching at the scruffy green beard growing on his chin. ¡°Then a rebellion is in the works?¡±

    Basil smiled wryly. ¡°It will be squashed, of course. Cashew has people posted all over here, and I would assume they are in every major city. Any uprising will be removed before it could begin. I spotted at least two men of opposing fealty in the pub, and they were eyeing up the would be rebels with some hungry eyes.¡±

    ¡°Anyone talking about the boy?¡±

    This time Basil smiled genuinely. ¡°Not a soul spoke a word of him, sir.¡±

    Sage chuckled low, filled with vibrato. ¡°Good. Then they didn¡¯t account for this. What of transportation, have we a boat?¡±

    Basil sighed, shrugging. ¡°If you could call it that, yeah. All that was available on short notice was a longboat.¡±

    When he said longboat, Sage¡¯s eyes darted over to mine and I became uneasy. ¡°We can make do,¡± he smirked. ¡°Good work, Basil, good work.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Sage. Where will we be going then?¡±

    Sage waved a hand, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in the morning. Boy, come here, I need to talk to you in private.¡±

    Pulling my cloak around me, I followed him into the hall, and when he made sure no one was around, he knelt down so we were eye level and spoke in a hushed whisper, filled with urgency. ¡°There are going to be a lot of people after you, boy. We won¡¯t be able to outrun all of them.¡±

    He let that hang in the air, and when he kept staring at me without blinking I turned away, unable to meet his gaze.

    ¡°You know that I know about your bad marks in combat.¡±

    I kept my eyes at the floor. I could tell where this was going, at least somewhat. Nothing could prepare me for the extreme that he would take it.

    ¡°I also know you don¡¯t like me. And I get that. I don¡¯t need you to like me. But if you¡¯re going to survive this, and save your kingdom, you have to let me train you.¡±

    Still keeping my eyes to the ground, I asked, ¡°What makes you think you can make me stronger when everyone else couldn¡¯t? Even our greatest generals failed to train me, they gave up when I could barely lift a sword. I¡¯m too sickly for combat.¡±

    ¡°I never back away from a challenge,¡± he said, louder than he wanted to. For some reason, his eyes were wet; was he crying? ¡°Please,¡± he reiterated. ¡°I can make you a fantastic warrior. If you just do as I say, you can return to Avocado a hero, instead of continuing to live as a recluse.¡± He held out a hand, pinky extended. ¡°We make an oath right now. What do you say, boy?¡±

    There was no way he¡¯d let me say no.

    I¡¯d have to travel with him anyway.

    Plus, he was crying; old men shouldn¡¯t cry.

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    We locked our pinky¡¯s bobbing them up and down thrice.

    ¡°Fortune smiles on the promised,¡± we said in unison, the traditional oath.

    I was going to pull free but he locked my finger down and pulled me a little closer. ¡°You know what happens if you break this oath, right?¡±

    Reluctantly, I nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    ¡°I will worry. Young boys are untrustworthy.¡± He let me go and ruffled my hair, smiling at me. ¡°Your training begins tomorrow. Do rest well. Of all of us, you will need to rest the most.¡±

    And that was how I made the unfortunate mistake of becoming Sage¡¯s student, a decision that while I had little actual say in, would still bring me more misfortune than I could have possibly prepared for. It was never his fault, though. No, the fault was my own in most cases. I even started it with a bad decision; the decision to stay awake.

 Chapter Six

    Basil woke up very early; the moon was still in full bloom, and the streets were a barren waste of pests and garbage, devoid of civilized life. I knew because my night had been spent by the window, catching sleep in moments, in a state of mind somewhere between being awake and being asleep, in a daydream or a nightmare.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake?¡± Basil grunted while he did some stretches. I nodded, absent.

    ¡°It¡¯s difficult to sleep without my own bed,¡± I said, rubbing my eyes. It wasn¡¯t completely true, but not a falsehood either; nerves were my main reason for insomnia. Nevertheless, Basil nodded and woke Sage up.

    Sage yawned, then his eyes widened when he saw how dark it still was. The gears began turning in his head, and he came to an understanding that culminated in a shared look between him and Basil. At the time, I was too tired to really care, so I never bothered to ask what this moment was in regards to. It didn¡¯t take long for me to experience first hand what this meant, however.

    We gathered what little we had and left as swiftly and silently as possible, leaving everything as if we had never been there. Walking down those desolate streets made me feel like we were spectres, dark figures that sent the public away at the mere sight of us. I wasn¡¯t too far off, either.

    With everyone away, I spent that walk taking in my surroundings better than I had before. I never knew just how ugly and stagnant the world could be. Red Bay was my first experience with the more impoverished areas of my country, and it left me wondering how it had gotten to that point. Living in Persea, I was lead to believe that my country was not only the greatest on Longan, but the richest, strongest, best looking, the whole ten acres; in actuality, I would come to find that we were much like everywhere else, filled with ups and downs and grayish hues that would leave me with more sleepless nights, more bags beneath my eyes, more chest pains to keep the comfort at bay.

    The sun was barely kissing the horizon when we made it to the docks, and here there were a few shady characters scattered about doing their own thing. I must have looked worried, because Basil pat my shoulder and leaned in to tell me quietly, ¡°Fisherman. They need to be out at certain times in the day to achieve the greatest hauls.¡± He pat me again and added for Sage to hear, ¡°Follow me. We must be quick.¡±

    Sage nodded and the two began taking long strides down the boarded dock, and I had to jog just to keep up.

    We passed a number of larger boats, transport boats and fishing boats with plenty of space and resources, before the docks gave way to a series of smaller, more agile boats that were operated by oars and nothing more, and the further we moved away from those larger boats the more I began to dread what was about to happen.

    Sage and Basil stopped, eyes searching the area for anyone who would be suspicious of our suspicious activity. Once they were satisfied, the hopped in a boat and I followed suit, awkward and dreadful.

    The boat itself was long, filled with enough bench seats for two dozen people if there were two per bench, but that was it; the conditions were as spartan as the castle Sage and Basil had come from.

    Sage was undoing the knot holding the boat down when Basil confirmed, ¡°So where are we going? The Archipelago?¡±

    He shook his head, which surprised Basil. ¡°Durian. There¡¯s something I need to get confirmed before we go there. The hope is that we can get there in a day, if he starts right now we should get close to that goal.¡±

    He? That didn¡¯t sound right. Maybe I was too tired.

    ¡°You say we¡¯ll get there in a day?¡± I asked, stifling a yawn. Sage nodded.

    ¡°Well I can¡¯t help but notice there are twelve spots for rowers and only two of you to row it.¡± Sage finished undoing the knot and kicked the boat off, sending us out into the sea with more force than I had expected, as we drifted past the ported boats at high speed, carving out waves that towered above our small craft.

    ¡°We won¡¯t be rowing,¡± he said, placing a foot on the bow of the boat like a captain. ¡°You will row us to the best of your ability.¡±

    I sputtered, at a loss for words. There was no way I was going to be able to do that sort of task. My arms could barely lift a feather, let alone an oar. And I certainly couldn¡¯t use that oar to guide us to an island. He was talking crazy.

    I don¡¯t remember what I said, but it must not have been good.

    Sage walked over to me and, in an instant, slapped me hard onto the deck floor. My right cheek was almost instantly swollen, and before I could begin arguing with him he picked me up and sat me down on the seat in the back of the boat.

    ¡°You are far from your home,¡± he said, his tone becoming too fatherly for my taste. ¡°We are not people you can order around, you are merely a prince not a king, and you¡¯re only what, thirteen? So don¡¯t go thinking we are here to do all the heavy lifting. You¡¯re in a rowboat, and you will row.

    ¡°Secondly,¡± he added, ¡°you recall what we spoke of last night? The promise you made?¡±

    My face was already burning from the hit, so blushing didn¡¯t happen to further my shame. I nodded to him, tears welling in my eyes. I felt powerless.

    ¡°I¡¯m not crazy, am I Basil?¡± Sage asked, arms spread out wide.

    Basil was sitting towards the front of the boat, picking barnacles idly. ¡°Crazy? Of course not! Boy¡¯s obviously been slacking when it comes to combat training, may as well make him work his body out a bit.¡±

    ¡°Good, then it¡¯s settled,¡± Sage said, smiling.

    Still rubbing my cheek, I glared at him and asked, ¡°What happens if I¡¯m too slow?¡±

    ¡°Quit asking questions and row, boy.¡±

    So, with Sage holding me hostage and Basil nodding off on his bench at the bow of the boat, I rowed us on my own, with Sage roaring out encouraging phrases that did more to hurt my morale than anything, and I rowed until my arms were numb.

    ???????????????

    Before I continue, I should say this regarding my attitude. As I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed, I wasn¡¯t a great kid. In fact, I was a bit of an asshole. Okay, more than a bit. I am, however, committed to telling the world just the way I was. There are many who have only heard of me after I became a hero, and with that comes a level of prestige that is inhuman, absolutely deific and unfathomable, impossible to live up to. I was never this mythical man people claim me to be. This story will put that to rest. That said, writing this has all been cathartic, even though I cringe often at the thought of the things I¡¯d say. My wife is proud of me for my commitment to the truth, which is nice I guess; part of me wishes I were a better liar, though. At least if I could lie to myself, maybe I¡¯d be able to feel a little more pride in the life I¡¯ve lived.

    Anyway, I just thought I¡¯d say that so anyone reading this at least knows I¡¯m coming from a place of understanding. Back to the boat:

    There is a point when you row where the muscles in your body will remember they exist, and the pain you were numb to will start to permeate throughout your body, into areas that you probably aren¡¯t even using to row in the first place. My legs and stomach were killing me by the time the sun was high in the afternoon, and the pain made me stop to think more than anything, and contemplate jumping overboard.

    Stopping, however, was not in Sage¡¯s plan.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he said, wrapping a hand down next to me with enough force to rattle the whole boat. Basil didn¡¯t even flinch¡ªhe¡¯d slept the whole time, snoring on the off beat of my oar-strokes to an almost rhythmic degree. ¡°We aren¡¯t even halfway there yet, boy. You¡¯re going to have to put your back into it more if you want to get to Durian fast.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to,¡± I groaned. That wasn¡¯t even defiance, I really didn¡¯t want to go to some backwater island for reasons no one would tell me of. Basil didn¡¯t exactly seem to keen on it either, and that certainly wasn¡¯t adding to my wild mentor¡¯s credibility.

    ¡°That¡¯s because you don¡¯t know any better,¡± he said, as though he could read my thoughts. ¡°But that¡¯s okay, most people don¡¯t know what¡¯s good for them until they are shown the way.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you row?¡± I asked, sighing heavily and rowing anyway. At this point, rowing was the only thing keeping me from attempted suicide. Or murder. ¡°You¡¯re the one with ridiculous strength, I¡¯m not even fourteen yet. Odds are you¡¯ve got more strength than I do by a long shot.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± he said, smirking. ¡°But I only got here because I did things like what you¡¯re doing now.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying that if I row enough I can blast people back with wind?¡±

    The oars slapped the water in an uncomfortable silence.

    Running a hand through his brow length bangs, Sage shrugged and said, ¡°No, probably not.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s either a yes or a no,¡± I said, words getting angrier with each oar stroke. ¡°No probably about it.¡±

    Sighing, he said, ¡°True,¡± and after looking around and fidgeting, scratching his head to the point where there where wild white lines criss crossing across his forehead, he sighed again heavily and said, ¡°Stop.¡±

    I¡¯d never been more grateful to someone of such low social status before that moment. I nearly threw the oars off the boat and leaned back, feeling my whole body tingle with the feeling of relaxation, of sitting and doing nothing.

    Sage sat down in front of me and removed his cloak before picking up the oars in his seat. His back muscles shown through his shirt, standing taut like he was constantly in a state of flex. Then, without so much as a grunt, he rowed once, going a brisk but regular distance forward; he rowed twice, this time with some wind behind us, or so it felt; he rowed a third time, and we flew. The boat gained air and momentum, and I felt the wind on my face moving so fast that I had to squint my eyes, and the boat soared a good fifteen to twenty steps above the sea, seagulls flying above, next to, and beneath our boat.

    And on that last stroke, Sage didn¡¯t make a sound, no sign of strenuous usage of his body at all. He simply rowed and we flew.

    When the boat slammed back down into the sea, bobbing up and down and taking on a small amount of water, sending waves into all directions, Sage got up and stretched his arms up over his head, smiling at me. ¡°The first time I rowed, I used only the strength of my body,¡± he said, now sitting down to be eye level with me. His eyes had a strange softness to them, the shade of green the same color as the sea we rowed on. ¡°The second, I had called upon the power within me and it helped a little, adding maybe an extra pair of hands or two to the strength of my row. You follow me?¡± I nodded, still breathing heavily. ¡°The third row, I called even more of that power inside, and added maybe a full boats worth of people, in addition to all my strength, rowing simultaneously.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense, I guess,¡± I said. ¡°But how do you do that? You some kind of magician or are you one of those weird monks who study their body?¡±

    He laughed and shook his head, then sat down next to me and pat my shoulder. ¡°No, nothing like that. In all honesty, I¡¯m surprised you don¡¯t know what I did, since you¡¯re the prince of Avocado. The royal family has known about what I just did for ages.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Is that why you were locked away in that empty prison of a castle?¡± I asked, regaining my breath a little.

    ¡°It was,¡± Basil called, his voice a hard bark from the bow. Sage¡¯s face grew pink and he got up, his hand still on my shoulder, the grip tightening around my clavicle; it was comforting.

    ¡°You sleep well?¡± Sage asked, forcing cheer into his voice.

    ¡°Until we started flying for some reason, yeah I slept great,¡± Basil said, shaking off the water he had been covered in by the wave Sage had made. The fact that it even took that to wake him up was amazing to me.

    ¡°Whoops,¡± Sage muttered, and I snickered. ¡°Well at least you¡¯re all caught up on your sleep.¡±

    ¡°Hmph,¡± Basil grunted, glaring daggers at Sage. He glared back, before the two of them broke out into smiles.

    ¡°You want to help us row? The boy¡¯s pretty much drained and we¡¯ve only made it a quarter of the way to Durian,¡± Sage said. Basil nodded, and I was relieved.

    Sage took a step forward, rummaged in the bag that was on him in his cloak, and pulled out three orange pasties, passing them around so that the three of us could eat. I scarfed it down in three bites, and despite being good, the food made me feel fuzzy, yet still hungry. Sage saw my face and just shrugged.

    ¡°We can¡¯t afford to eat everything I¡¯ve got in here right away,¡± he said. ¡°Just one pastie per person right now, we can eat better once we get to Durian.¡±

    ¡°Is there a lot of food in Durian?¡± I asked, feeling reluctant to row again.

    Sage sat down in front of me and said, ¡°Of course there is, boy. I only stay where there is good food, and my friend in Durian has some of the best I¡¯ve ever eaten! Now get back to rowing so we can get there fast.¡±

    With a heavy sigh, I returned to rowing, running on no sleep and no food, feeling all around like I might die any second. But at the very least, I thought, if we can get to Durian quickly I may be able to feast and sleep to my heart¡¯s content. I wasn¡¯t sure how true it all was, but the hope in my heart kept me going.

    The speed at which we were able to travel once all three of us were rowing was incredible, and despite my strength being tapped out and a few bouts of sleeping while rowing, moments which varied between minutes to perhaps hours of lost consciousness, we made it to what I presumed to be Durian. The island on the horizon was small in the distance, a little miracle highlighted in cascades of pink clouds and the soft glow of an orange sunset, but even so far away it gave way to me groaning out a noise of relief¡ªrest and food were all I cared about.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy to see it too, but we have to keep rowing if we want to get there,¡± Sage said, accentuating his words with pauses filled with the sound of slapping oars.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I just want to eat,¡± I replied, back in step with his and Basil¡¯s rows.

    ¡°Is that all you think about is food?¡± Basil called from up front, a cadence of sarcasm to his voice¡ªhe was a chef, after all.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡± Sage drolled. ¡°Food is one of life¡¯s greatest, most sincere pleasures. I¡¯m sure even a big tough guy like you can enjoy a good meal every now and again.¡±

    ¡°I eat for the sole purpose of survival, and that is it,¡± Basil called with a laugh, enunciating his words with the slap of the oars much as Sage had.

    ¡°Great big ball of sunshine he is,¡± Sage muttered to me. ¡°Well then let me ask you this, do you have a favorite meal?¡± Before he could answer, Sage yelled, ¡°Be honest! None of that eating to survive shit, just tell us what you crave. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve had food dreams on your travels. Why, back in my youth I recall dreaming fondly of eating some of my great-grandmother¡¯s candied nut ¡®n caramel ¡®n chocolate freecs¡ªthough when we were young we called them candy balls¡ªbut they were delicious, and whenever I was out and about, my mind would always return to¡ª¡±

    ¡°How about you shut up and let me answer?¡± Basil yelled back from the front.

    ¡°Right, go on then,¡± Sage said, shaking his head.

    Basil didn¡¯t stop rowing, but he slowed down and lowered his head, then raised it up to the sky as if he had to ask it what his favorite food was. His protracted, ostentatious struggle so hard to think of something so obvious to any normal person made me giggle, and I remember Sage¡¯s smile back at me, the sunset basking it in an undeserving yet fitting radiance, imprinting it in me forever since as a moment where for once, I forgot to be uptight and instead enjoyed some banter.

    Then he muttered something, and the waves covered it up.

    ¡°Speak up, Basil!¡± Sage called, ¡°For those of us in the back, you know.¡±

    ¡°Grilled fish and steamed vegetables,¡± he declared with a chuckle, his cheeks pink from either sunburn or embarrassment.

    Sage turned to me and shook his head, sighing. ¡°Grilled fish? Steamed vegetables?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s my answer,¡± Basil said, rowing a bit faster now. ¡°It¡¯s nothing fancy I know but it¡¯s what I tend to prefer.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, you golem,¡± Sage chided. ¡°You don¡¯t even know which fish or vegetables you prefer? Or is it that you don¡¯t care. Bah, you vanilla bastard, just keep rowing. I¡¯m too disgusted to care what you like anymore.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who asked, you nosy old criminal!¡± Basil yelled, and the three of us laughed. They traded insults with the vigor of an old married couple speaking a language familiar to themselves, violent on the surface but soft in its meaning.

    ¡°Criminal? You green haired bastard, you know I¡¯ve saved more people than I¡¯ve killed!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve killed more people than you¡¯ve saved, you number challenged lumberjack! And in case you haven¡¯t noticed, we all have green hair you colorblind glutton!¡±

    ¡°Glutton? My stomach is smooth as butter and hard as this boat!¡±

    ¡°More like your stomach is butter, you big lard eating curd!¡±

    I¡¯m sure there were more, but if I listed them all my hand would begin cramping, and besides, I¡¯m afraid that I¡¯ve forgotten a great deal of their insults at this point. It¡¯s one of the few things that I truly regret forgetting.

    After a certain point, however, when we had rowed close enough to the island that I could see details in its terrain, the island itself taking up the entirety of the horizon now, Sage threw down his oars and placed a hand on his bicep, screaming over to Basil with a hoarseness in his voice. ¡°Well if I¡¯m some fat, washed up butterbean, why not come over here and try me? See if the kissless old golem can try his hand against me, eh?¡±

    Before Basil could get up to argue with him, the waves of the sea had started to raise up above the boat, slapping heaps of pale green water inside. I should say that the waves had been rising slowly since we had started to get closer to the island, but they went unnoticed in the commotion of their arguing. Now, though, the waves were so turbulent that the island was disappearing behind the water, as if we were diving without any water being above us.

    Basil and myself, or at least myself, began panicking in the wake of the natural disaster befalling us. Basil shut up and sat down, attempting to row us out of danger somehow. I simply held tight to the oars, picked a god¡ªprobably Altera, considering the circumstances¡ªand shielded myself behind Sage.

    Sage, being the man he was, stood up almost taller than he had been previously and chuckled wryly.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny, you crazy old man?¡± I asked, my head between my knees for safety.

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± he said, simply. Raising a hand to his mouth he called out, ¡°Calm down, Hammy, it¡¯s me!¡±

    ¡°Hammy?¡± Basil and I asked, simultaneously with an equal amount of incredulity that Sage was oblivious to.

    Through the water, a mass of darkness hurtled toward us with a speed that was both agile and slow, due in part to its own sheer gravitas. The water parted and through it a mass of scales and tendrils that appeared to be fur-like popped out of the water, nearly slamming into our little boat and knocking us all over. It was a serpent, though I suspected that beneath the water it had fins of some kind, or perhaps limbs, the scales on its body were the color of bright sapphires, and it''s great big eyes wore a brighter tone of blue that still managed to pop and draw attention to itself, bringing all of our gazes directly towards the great serpent, and it wore a mane of white furry tendrils that began at the top of its head and ran down its neck, stopping short before touching the surface of the sea.

    ¡°That¡¯s Hammy?¡± I choked out, coughing up some water that had strayed into my throat. Sage nodded and walked to the edge of the boat, holding out a hand to the massive creature. To my surprise, it knelt before him like a knight to its king, and allowed Sage to pet its scaly face, one eye staring at me from a mere two steps away.

    ¡°Are things okay here, Hammy?¡± Sage asked, his voice taking on the soothing timbre one has when speaking to a pet. Hammy nodded politely, causing the boat to rock more.

    ¡°Good. I¡¯ve brought two companions from my land, I hope that Arsene won¡¯t mind. Do you think he¡¯ll mind much?¡± Hammy looked from me to Basil, and when it saw me its eyes dilated, pupils becoming needlelike slits.

    Sage laughed, ¡°Worried about him, eh? Well don¡¯t, Hammy ol¡¯ girl. I¡¯ll take full responsibility for anything he does. Besides, we need to get out of here fast anyway. Isn¡¯t that right, Basil?¡±

    Breathing a sigh of relief, Basil nodded and said, ¡°Damn right. We can¡¯t be here too long, we have a lot of work to do back in the mainland.¡±

    ¡°See? Don¡¯t worry about him. Now let us through and we can get this all over with, alright?¡±

    Hammy stared at me some more, maybe for ten seconds, before snorting so forcefully wind sent the boat back about fifteen steps from the serpent. I found myself once again hiding between my knees, the sound of Sage¡¯s laughter finally bringing me out of it. When I got up I noticed immediately that we were floating toward the island at top speed and no one was rowing. Sage sat down facing my direction and winked at me, slapping the floor of the boat for effect.

    ¡°Good ol¡¯ Hammy¡¯s letting us in,¡± he said with a grin.

    ¡°Is she magic or something?¡± I asked, a yawn erupting from my mouth in the middle of it. My day had been far longer than necessary.

    ¡°No, no of course not,¡± Sage said, shaking his head. ¡°She¡¯s just the guardian serpent, she lets in those who she deems unthreatening to the livelihood of Durian and its inhabitants. Lucky for you two, she knows me, otherwise you¡¯d have been eaten right on the spot back there.¡±

    Our little boat zoomed across the remaining ocean and slid onto the beach with enough force to make me check the boats bottom, just in case the landing had created any holes. Basil and I had held on tight to the boat while Sage stood standing, arms folded in a strange satisfaction. Before the boat even stopped fully, he was off and stretching out his legs, then his arms, groaning casually as if he had just awoken from a nap.

    I got up to get out and the movement was too much; I slipped and fell, nearly hitting my head on the side of the boat, and I braced myself by shutting my eyes and holding my arms up around my face. I felt something prop me up from my chest, and when I opened my eyes I was being stood up by Basil, his discerning eye gliding over my body with invasive precision.

    ¡°You¡¯re exhausted,¡± he said calmly, though I noted the glare he passed to Sage for a split second. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be walking. I¡¯ll carry you to our destination.¡±

    Sage shook his head and stepped in, slouching down a bit to get close to Basil¡¯s face, his hair almost creating a curtain so I couldn¡¯t see either of their faces. ¡°You¡¯ll do no such thing,¡± Sage said.

    ¡°Are you mad? Or just an idiot?¡± Basil cried, his voice ramping up quickly into a yell. ¡°You must understand that he¡¯s not like you, or even myself. He¡¯s never been outside this long, he hasn¡¯t eaten, and he hasn¡¯t even slept. I can take him, it¡¯ll let us move faster and we can get going. Or have you forgotten that we aren¡¯t here for pleasure?¡± He wasn¡¯t addressing me, but the venom in Basil¡¯s voice had become so palpable I felt as if he were, a lump making its way to my throat, and I had to force myself to not only stay awake but keep myself from crying in front of them.

    Without a trace of empathy, Sage asked, ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Plenty, actually,¡± Basil huffed, pushing him back like he was starting a bar room brawl. For a second, Sage looked like he might oblige the notion. But he took a long, deep breath and shut his eyes, then glanced back at me and smiled.

    ¡°Well save it. I know you want to help, and you make a lot of good points, Basil. But you have to remember that we won¡¯t be around forever to keep Mint here safe. And I¡¯m sure Mint doesn¡¯t want to be a burden forever, does he?¡± He looked to me, and Basil raised an eyebrow toward me, and I stared deeply at the grass.

    ¡°Well?¡± Sage asked, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. I felt like falling over again, but widened my legs and stood up, shaking my head.

    ¡°I will not be carried like someone¡¯s luggage,¡± I said, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. The boy in me wanted to curl up and be done with it, sleep and wake up in my bed. But the logical part of me knew that I couldn¡¯t do that, and the prince in me wanted desperately to get a hold of this situation and stop being treated as if I weren¡¯t in charge.

    I had a lot of guts back then. I just didn¡¯t know how to utilize them, and usually just ended up coming off as a pompous ass.

    ¡°And,¡± I added, trying to stand tall but coming up to both men¡¯s chests, ¡°I can keep up with you guys just fine. Quit worrying about me like some boy. I¡¯m the prince of Avocado, and when this is all over you will both be rotting away in a dungeon for kidnapping me and putting me through all of this!¡±

    Sage chuckled and pat me on the back. ¡°That¡¯s enough, boy. I think we get it.¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± I growled, ¡°You¡¯re going in there with him.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll have to catch us first,¡± he said, grinning.

    Basil turned around and began walking toward the massive forest that started maybe fifty or so steps off the beach, and without turning around he asked, ¡°How far to this Arsene you want us to see? Will we be there before nightfall?¡±

    ¡°Obviously not,¡± Sage grunted, walking after him. I shook my head of the dizziness I felt and followed, hoping I wouldn¡¯t regret my decision not to be carried. ¡°We¡¯ll be there before midnight, so long as we experience no snags. We haven¡¯t been followed, though, so the only thing that could go wrong is the boy falling unconscious. But we¡¯ll swim that river when it rises, right?¡±

    Nodding, Basil jumped to the top of one of the tall, strangely green trees, and began leaping across them as we had in the forest in Avocado. Sage snickered and nudged me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him too much. Basil is a passionate man, so when he thinks things aren¡¯t right he can become a bit cantankerous. He¡¯s a great companion, though, and he cares deeply for you.¡±

    ¡°Cares?¡± I repeated, confused.

    Sage smiled. ¡°We both do, boy.¡±

    I spat on the ground as we began following Basil. ¡°If you cared, I¡¯d be at home,¡± I mumbled. Sage just smiled, oblivious, probably for the better.

 Chapter Seven

    The differences between Durian and Avocado became apparent the moment we set foot in that forest. For starters, the foliage was green and the water was an odd bluegreen, the opposite of my homeland. It was otherworldly, though I should have expected this upon meeting Hammy. The other creatures we met in that forest were amazing in their own ways, too; there were small creatures Sage called puraflies, which gave off a faint, blue and white glow that was brighter than the moon, lighting the forest as if it were daylight; there were loud creatures on the surface of the river we followed, whose constant noise was oddly comforting; there was a large beast we saw across the river, its body reminiscent of a deer, which Sage called a behemoth. It wasn¡¯t so big, but Sage insisted it would grow in time, and though the name made it seem scary, there was a peace I felt when I saw it drinking river water.

    Sage was being so talkative that it became infectious, maybe because I was so tired, maybe because he was just nice and I didn¡¯t want to admit it to myself; in any case, I asked him questions. ¡°So what is this Arsene like? He going to help us out, or just help you?¡±

    Sage shrugged, ¡°No clue. But whenever I haven¡¯t got a clue, I find things work out best when I consult Arsene.¡±

    ¡°Is he a fortune teller or something?¡± I asked haughtily. My tone was either unapparent to Sage or he simply didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°Sort of, though not in a traditional sense. He¡¯s never actually explained how he does it, but whenever I have shown up he¡¯s always expected it and no matter what I ask him he knows the answer, though the way he explains it is usually a bit too obtuse for my taste. Why one time I asked him where I had placed my favorite cloak, this one I had made for myself long ago, a gorgeous deep purple lined in warm wool that made cold nights in the castle bearable, and do you know what he said to me when I asked him where it might be?¡±

    When I didn¡¯t respond, he turned to me in askance, and after sighing heavily and probably rolling my eyes, I humored him, ¡°No, what did he say?¡±

    ¡°It was feeling nostalgic. He said those words exactly, and I felt so frustrated at the time. When I returned home, Basil said he found it in his workroom. Know what¡¯s in there?¡±

    Sighing again, I asked, ¡°What?¡± loudly.

    ¡°Sewing supplies, of which were used to create the cloak in the first place. Basil and I swear we checked that room already, but it wasn¡¯t until I had visited Arsene and he said that we found it.¡± Sage shook his head, as if he were still in disbelief. ¡°He¡¯s a mystery, but he¡¯s a mystery that solves other mysteries, and for that I must respect him.¡±

    Ducking under a low hanging branch, then tripping but catching myself on the undergrowth, I swore and asked, ¡°So then you know Hammy from previous visits I take it?¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Sage replied.

    ¡°That thing is pretty crazy. I never thought beasts like it existed.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯d kill you if she heard you calling her a beast,¡± Sage scolded, then added, ¡°Or an it. She¡¯s very proud of her femininity, as she should be. She¡¯s a pretty serpent, none are quite as pretty as her in all the Tamarind Sea.¡±

    There isn¡¯t a good explanation for what I said next. ¡°How the hell do you know that thing¡¯s a girl? I can¡¯t imagine rolling around in the sea with that beast.¡±

    I¡¯d like to say that I was just a little tired. Maybe the walk after all the rowing and lack of sleep was getting to me, and it probably was. And now that I¡¯m much older, have kids of my own, I know that around that age kids are usually just a little too forthright with their opinions, or as my wife says, ¡°They¡¯re little shitheads.¡± It would take ages for me to get more polite.

    At least it would have had I not met Sage.

    In an instant, Sage spun around and slapped me across the face with such a resounding smack that when I think of it I can still feel the ringing in my ears and the stinging on my left cheek where his backhand struck me down, sending me sprawling to the ground with enough force you¡¯d have thought he hit me with a warhammer. I curled up immediately like a spider in rigor, fidgeting in my agony. In my life, I had never been hit so hard or so fast, with such curt power that I could feel he had held back an immense amount of strength. Even in the art of striking, Sage held a tact that was polite and superior.

    Kneeling down, Sage hit me with a look that could have peeled the bark off the trees surrounding us. My face was hot with tears and the red bruise forming on my cheek, and I looked away before I could feel the regret his eyes were bringing out of me.

    The child in me expected him to lecture me, and I braced for an onslaught of words that would make me feel inside what his slap made me feel out.

    Instead, he sighed and held out a hand and said, ¡°Come on. We haven¡¯t got all night.¡±

    I got up with his help and after a few minutes of walking in silence I finally asked him, ¡°You going to apologize?¡±

    He kept walking, not even turning around. I growled, sniffed back some snot and rubbed the tears out of my eyes.

    ¡°You scared the animals away,¡± Sage finally said, and when I looked around I realized he was right. Even the small creatures on the river had stopped making noise.

    ¡°Maybe it was the sound of you slapping me that did it,¡± I grumbled, ready to run and go home. I knew I could row myself back since I had done the bulk of the work on my own, but more thinking made me realize both Sage and Basil would be able to catch up to me in an instant. There was no escape.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± he said, his voice low enough to make the bones in my face vibrate.

    ¡°More like probably, you asshole,¡± I said. He spun around and I winced, stepping back and tripping to the ground. He hadn¡¯t even raised a hand to hit me. He wasn¡¯t going to in the first place.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°You make this situation worse than it needs to be,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what they were doing with you in Persea, and I won¡¯t pretend to know exactly what your life was like. But I know enough to know that the way you are acting is disrespectful to everyone, especially yourself.¡±

    ¡°Myself?¡± I blurted out, laughing a bit¡ªgoodness, I wish I could write lies!

    Sage nodded. ¡°Your reaction to me is your anticipation for a punishment, which means you knew what you did was wrong. I had no reason to explain it to you, and I still don¡¯t need to explain why your behavior is ridiculous. You know it is, so why do it? Just be polite and get moving, maybe you¡¯ll learn something if you just quit pushing everyone around.¡±

    Groaning, I got to my feet and slapped dirt off my backside, clapped my hands to remove the dirt from them. ¡°I reacted that way because you hit me before, not because I expected some form of karmic justice.¡±

    Continuing our walk, Sage smirked and decided to take the conversation elsewhere. ¡°You don¡¯t strike me as one who believes in karma.¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± I replied. ¡°You get what¡¯s coming to you only when you are outplayed, outsmarted, or strong armed into it. Has nothing to do with some crazy balancing act the universe is playing out. Sometimes you just get unlucky.¡± Like right now, I thought. These guys were so ridiculous with their strength and speed, even intelligence, though I was loathe to admit it. There was absolutely no way I could get out of this without cooperating.

    ¡°Well, it sounds to me like you believe you can do anything you want so long as you have the strength,¡± he said, his tone mildly condescending. Or maybe I was just hearing things, placing an emotion there to make it easier for me to understand. No one had ever hit me as he had.

    ¡°Might makes right, but only for those who wield it,¡± I said, my cadence the same as my mother¡¯s.

    ¡°Wise words,¡± Sage replied. ¡°Do you understand them?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do,¡± I spat.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you do.¡±

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡±

    ¡°Tell me what they mean and I¡¯ll show you.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, glaring. Then I sighed, clearing my head up so I could think straight because the day had gone so long that higher levels of thought were beginning to take too much effort, and I said, ¡°Essentially, those who have the strength to get what they want will get what they want, and that isn¡¯t necessarily what everyone else wants.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Sage said, his smile mirthless. His face said it all before he even spoke. ¡°But that¡¯s not the whole thing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? What else is there?¡±

    He stopped then, and instead of answering me he placed a hand in my hair and ruffled it. Had I the energy, I might have tried to hit him¡ªwhich would have been futile, of course, but I would have tried. Then he said, ¡°You¡¯ll see. Let¡¯s get going.¡±

    I don¡¯t remember much else from that walk. I know it took a while longer to get to Arsene¡¯s manor, but I don¡¯t believe there were any other major happenings between that moment and then. Perhaps I was sleepwalking, or Sage spoke idly of the food we¡¯d eat when we arrived. Maybe another creature appeared like the baby behemoth. Imagine what you wish, I¡¯m sure whatever you can think of would be much better than what actually happened.

    ???????????????

    When we did reach Arsene¡¯s manor, the amount of disbelief I felt had reached a point where nothing would really surprise me on that island anymore. I expected the unexpected. So believe me when I say that I still stared wide-eyed, mouth agape from sheer awe, at the little cottage in the woods, a cottage made from what appeared to be undergrowth, in a fashion that insisted it was there to begin with, made entirely by natural causes, with the only hint of man¡¯s influence being the smoke stack billowing lazily from the chimney and the man himself standing in the doorway, smoking a pipe and looking rather dapper in his soft robe covering even softer pajamas the color of softer sunset pinks and oranges, which in no way matched the hard, old lines on his face nor the deep blackish blues of his hair.

    Sage lit up the moment we got there. ¡°Arsene!¡± he called.

    Without skipping a beat, Arsene puffed once on his pipe and replied with an unperturbed, ¡°Sage.¡±

    Sage grasped Arsene¡¯s hand and grinned wide at him. ¡°You been alright? Feels like it¡¯s been ages since I was here last.¡±

    Puffing again, Arsene chuckled and said, ¡°Come on, Sage, you were here only a month ago asking if I knew where your toenail clippers were and eating me out of house and home. You¡¯d better have a good reason to be here this time or I¡¯ll have to ban you from visiting me.¡±

    ¡°Bah!¡± Sage said. ¡°Come on, you wouldn¡¯t do that to poor Hammy. She likes when I visit.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well. Regardless, this had better be good.¡±

    Sage pat Arsene¡¯s hand and pulled in close, whispering to him. Then Arsene met my gaze for a moment, brief yet invasive. His eyes were so dark, and his skin was so bright, it appeared to me an alien in pajamas was eyeing me. Then his eyes slid upward toward the trees above and he nodded to whatever Sage had said.

    ¡°You can come down from up there, Basil,¡± Arsene called, still somehow sounding lazy and calm despite his voice raising. ¡°I¡¯ve got plenty of food to give you in here, and I can tell you honestly that no one has followed you here. It is just the four of us.¡±

    When Basil didn¡¯t hop down immediately, Sage got annoyed and looked like he was about to yell for him himself, but Arsene held a palm up. Then Basil hopped down, landing on his feet in a way that made me wonder how his knees didn¡¯t give out.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure no one has come?¡± he asked. You could hear the speculation in his voice.

    Arsene nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right. And why would they? Durian isn¡¯t exactly a popular place to go, no reason to conquer it and therefore no reason to go to it. Plus we¡¯ve got some severe wildlife, and I¡¯m to believe there are plenty of rumors of all manner of monsters living here, including gryphons, dragons, serpents, fire monsters, ice monsters, little beasts, big beasts, and of course vampires.¡±

    ¡°And ghouls?¡± I chimed in, still standing a good thirty steps away.

    Arsene smirked and nodded, then waved a hand at me to come over. ¡°Come on, Mint. I¡¯ve got a sandwich with your name on it in here.¡±

    I gave him a wary look and he said, ¡°You like sandwiches with lots of bacon and hot oil and Persea sauce, right?¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡± I asked him, amazed.

    ¡°Sage, you did explain to him of my condition, right?¡± he asked, his expression sly, obviously enjoying the attention.

    ¡°What, your clairvoyance? Yeah I mentioned something about it to him.¡±

    ¡°Must just be a non believer then,¡± Arsene said, gnawing his pipe. ¡°Well, you¡¯re from Avocado, all three of you! Took some time to get Sage and Basil here on the same page as me, so it should be the same with you. You¡¯ll need to keep an open mind if you don¡¯t want yours to break around here, there¡¯s much to tell you¡ªall of you. But that will wait, you boys need some food and sleep.¡±

    With that, the four of us went into his little cottage. And that last line? It confirmed something to me I had been paranoid of; both Sage and Basil were from Avocado, which meant that politically they should be allies to me, and I had no reason to disbelieve them.

    Which meant I¡¯d find a reason to falsify Arsene, of course.

 Chapter Eight

    <hr>

    Arsene¡¯s home was not as it seemed. The inside of the strange man¡¯s abode was large, open, and filled to the brim with all manner of oddities and collectibles, memorabilia covered in cobwebs and enough dust to make us cough the moment we entered. In the center of the room were the things that necessities; a bed to sleep in, a table to eat at, and a smoldering fire that had been used recently. On the table were three plates, each holding a different spread of food for each of us.

    The moment I saw my plate¡ªa bicornucopia, filled with potatoes and bicorn steak, topped with a salty dressing that had some tang to it, and a light vanilla cake for dessert¡ªI used the last of my energy to run over to it and started scarfing it down. Basil and Sage followed suit, though they had more self restraint. Sage even continued his conversation with Arsene between bites of his cake.

    ¡°So Arsene,¡± he asked, ¡°you¡¯re aware of what has happened in Avocado then? Seeing as you knew we were being pursued.¡±

    Arsene nodded and picked up a book, idly flipping the pages. ¡°That¡¯s right. I know a couple other things as well, such as the wellbeing of the queen and how things are being handled right now.¡±

    Basil wiped his mouth and asked, ¡°So then what of them? Do you know why Cashew has done all of this?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why Cashew has done what they¡¯ve done,¡± Arsene replied, flipping to another page. ¡°I can speculate, for sure. But I haven¡¯t the slightest idea what they¡¯re up to.¡±

    When he said that he knew the status of my mother, I put my fork down and turned to him, wiping food from my face with my forearm. ¡°Uhm, sir?¡±

    Looking up from the book, he smiled at me warmly. ¡°You may call me Arsene, Mint. What is it? Would you like to know about your mom?¡±

    I felt my nose tingle and my face get hot, so I nodded and turned away, breathing slow and heavy.

    ¡°You¡¯ve no need to worry,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s fine, no harm came to her at all in the coup. Currently she¡¯s organizing the citizens to help rebuild from the damage the fire caused.¡±

    Sage asked, ¡°Is she searching for Mint?¡±

    Arsene paused a moment, flipped a page. ¡°Yes. She has sent out a search party in secret, so that the Cashew occupants are unaware. Her power is limited, though. It seems that an agreement was made so that she would be allowed to remain the queen; she does what the Cashew royals want, so technically she is not in power. I¡¯m afraid Avocado might become Cashew soon if she is unable to do something, which she most likely isn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡± I asked, my voice shaking. ¡°We have an army there. They should be able to take Cashew out, I¡¯d think.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m afraid that a decent portion of the personal army at Persea were Cashew spies. They were able to take out a sizable portion of the army and those remaining are under the threat that their families will be murdered.¡± Arsene sighed and shut the book, dust floating in every direction. ¡°Unfortunately, her greatest asset is missing as well. And the king has not returned with his crew. Cashew¡¯s information was too good, their timing was perfect, their attack too brutal. Who¡¯d have thought they wou¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± I said, gritting my teeth.

    ¡°Mint,¡± Sage growled, his voice in that familiar baritone. I could hear him get ready to lay into me when Arsene sighed and placed a hand on Sage¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mint. I won¡¯t speak of it if it¡¯s not something you want to hear.¡±

    ¡°He needs to hear it,¡± Sage said. ¡°He has to face what¡¯s going on if he wants to be of any use to his mother and his kingdom.¡±

    Before I could muster the courage to yell without crying, Arsene stepped in once again. ¡°You can¡¯t force something like that on him.¡±

    Basil nodded. ¡°Right now all that matters is that he is safe and we can still save the kingdom when we recuperate. Mint is still too young for all of this, and you¡¯re partially to blame for forcing him into this situation. He doesn¡¯t need to be a part of the discussion if he doesn¡¯t want to be, just as he doesn¡¯t have to do unnecessary training if he doesn¡¯t want to. Right Sage?¡±

    I was surprised by how much Basil was trying to fight for my best interest, and I could only think it was his way of kissing my ass at the time, the same way everyone else was back home. It made me more wary of him than ever.

    Sage just sighed and kept eating.

    ¡°Mint, if you¡¯re done you can come downstairs if you¡¯d like,¡± Arsene said. ¡°I can show you to a guest bed and you can get as much sleep as you need. Would you like that?¡±

    At first I was reluctant, but everyone there agreed that I looked horrible. I was loathe to admit it, but I felt awful. Maybe it was the way they were talking, or the aching that had begun setting in after all that rowing, but I was pretty much done. So Arsene led me over to a stairway that I didn¡¯t notice before, in the corner of the room. Down in the basement of the home were three beds, all neat and the proper size for the three of us. There were candles lighting two of the corners of the room and that was all, no windows or anything, yet it didn¡¯t feel stuffy. I went to the bed furthest from the stairs and sat down, removing my shoes and cloak.

    Arsene stood watching me for a moment, his arms folded as if he were thinking. ¡°Before you sleep,¡± he finally said, ¡°would you humor me?¡±

    Groaning, I said, ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t take long and it isn¡¯t weird.¡±

    He laughed, which was strange; it came out a very distinct yukking sound. ¡°No, it shouldn¡¯t take long or be weird. All I need you to do is to close your eyes and let me hold your hands for a minute or two.¡±

    Yawning, I asked, ¡°And what will that accomplish?¡±

    ¡°As a clairvoyant, I have the ability to see the shape and color of your future up to roughly a month out,¡± he said, sitting across from me on the bed next to me. ¡°Basically, if I do this I can see if your near future will be bad or good as it stands right now. There¡¯s room for error, and usually if I tell you the results there is a good chance you¡¯ll change it, either slightly or entirely, due to paranoia. So afterwards if you want me not to tell you I can just keep it to myself.¡± When I didn¡¯t answer, he smiled at me and it made me feel comfortable, like I was discussing going on a trip with mother. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, if you don¡¯t want me to do any of this I don¡¯t have to. I just think this might be helpful.¡±

    ¡°You try really hard to make people feel comfortable here, don¡¯t you?¡± I asked.

    Arsene nodded. ¡°Being good to a visitor is a universal thing, especially around these parts. I usually only see that fool Sage, but even he deserves a good meal and good company if I can supply it. It¡¯s my job as the host. Plus,¡± he added, staring off into space, ¡°I make friends this way, and what¡¯s a life without friends, eh?¡±

    I smiled back politely, then I said, ¡°Okay, fine. Make it fast though, I¡¯m tired.¡±

    So I held out my hands, first as fists but Arsene told me that wouldn¡¯t work so I switched to open palms. Arsene grasped them firmly, massaging my palms rhythmically and slowly, to the point where I was beginning to fall asleep from the repeated motion and soothing silence I felt. Despite the situation being weird¡ªwhich it certainly was, and it¡¯s even more apparent now that I write it out like this¡ªI felt a serenity in that room during this time, like I was able to clear my head out of all the ruckus and finally just be at peace, which is something I can¡¯t say I ever felt even back home at the castle.

    When he was finished, I opened my heavy eyelids and yawned out a, ¡°Well? What¡¯s the verdict?¡±

    After a lot of ¡°Hmphing¡± and ¡°Umming,¡± he finally shrugged and said, ¡°Well I can¡¯t say for sure, which is odd. But if you want my opinion, I¡¯d say you¡¯re reaching a crossroads, something you can¡¯t avoid. You¡¯ll have to pick one way or the other.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Like, good or bad? Martin or Cloony?¡±

    Laughing that yuk laugh, Arsene shook his head and got up with the same precision we all have when we reach old age. ¡°No, not a good or a bad thing. That¡¯s something that happens in fairy tales. You¡¯ve got something inside you, something powerful; dangerous. If you aren¡¯t careful you might do harm, sure, but that¡¯s not what I¡¯m seeing. I can¡¯t say for certain, but in due time you will be presented with a dilemma. If you want my advice, think before you throw it away.¡±

    ¡°Be Martin?¡± I yawned.

    ¡°Not Cloony,¡± he completed the euphemism with a smile, and he turned to walk up the steps.

    It was quickly apparent that it would have been more prudent not to have my future told to me by a reliable psychic right before bed.

    Unable to sleep, I asked right as he reached the third stair from the top, ¡°So which choice do you think I should go for? Did one look more right to you?¡±

    And Arsene smiled at me, his black eyes glistening. ¡°Come on, I just told you there was no right answer. All you can do is live your life to the best of your ability. But if I had to tell you anything,¡± he said, enunciating the words carefully, ¡°You should act. If there is ever a time where you can choose not to act, act. You¡¯ll see better results, I think.¡±

    At the time, that felt like such a nothing statement, something that could have meant anything. Looking back, though¡­ well, he wasn¡¯t wrong.

    ???????????????

    Despite being nervous over the reading Arsene gave me, I fell asleep pretty quickly in that nearly pitch dark room. And while nothing noteworthy happened during my rest, I will say that I had a dream, and that the dream was not prophetic, metaphoric, philosophical or anything so grandiose and ridiculous. Like Arsene said, those things only happen in fairy tales, and this is not a fairy tale. This is a princely tale. And in my princely tale, I had a dream that was of a memory, one that I often went back to over and over again during my youth until I finally understood it.

    When I was six years old, or maybe seven, I was in my mother¡¯s bedroom for our hour of daily together time when my father decided he wanted to come home. I remember this distinctly because of a number of reasons; it was one of three times I had ever seen my father, and the only time I remembered because the other times I was a newborn and not old enough to form memories; it was the first snowfall, which is a sort of mini holiday in Persea, so we were talking about what we should make for the feast for the citizens; I was sick that week, with something we call the black cleanse, which essentially means that I had to fast for a week or so to help my body get rid of some kind of tar that infested my body, as I understand it, and I was taking an herbal medicine called poppy, which you burn and inhale the smoke of, and if you are unaware of what poppy can do, well, it causes hallucinations. So a few aspects of this memory always stumped me when I was young, due to the nature of my mind at the time of this happening and my inability to be certain on reality or fantasy.

    My mother was pacing back and forth between the window and the door, her dress making this wispy noise like wind blowing autumn leaves. On this day, her hair was particularly green, deep and nearly black under the right light. She held a thoughtful finger to her chin, tap tapping, tap tapping. ¡°Should we do pasties?¡± she asked, mostly to herself. ¡°They¡¯re rather wintry, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±

    I rocked back and forth in my chair, trying not to doze off. The snowfall was so calming, and the warmth of my cloak and the blanket my mother provided were making this perfect napping weather.

    ¡°Perhaps we should do pies¡ªno, no. That¡¯s more of a fall thing, isn¡¯t it dear?¡± I rocked back and forth, which she took as a nod. Tap tap, tap tap.

    ¡°Then pasties. We¡¯ll do pasties, fresh baked by our bakers. I¡¯m sure they will go over well. So that just leaves the main dish, which needs to be a roast of some kind, or perhaps a stew¡­¡± Tap tap, tap tap. ¡°Which would you prefer, Minty? A roast, or stew?¡±

    Her question pulled me from my trance, and before I could get passed humming and deciding, the door creaked open and my mother stopped, I stopped, the snow stopped. Time stopped, and we all stared at my father.

    I didn¡¯t realize it was him at the time, so his intrusion came off strange to me. If I were older and healthier I might have risen up and asked how he could show up unannounced, but I was so out of it I could only sit and watch what happened as if it were a play in our court.

    My mother¡¯s lips formed a neat line on her face, and she ceased her tapping, fixing her dress instead. ¡°Merano.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    My father knelt down to the ground, bowing his head. He wore all black from head to toe, and a hood was raised over his head. When I remember him, he has no face. I¡¯m sure it was there, visible and easy to see, but his face isn¡¯t there in my memories, and his voice is distorted, a ghost of what it was, himself appearing to me an apparition.

    ¡°June,¡± he said.

    She stared down at him, and it was so quiet I could hear the snow settling outside. ¡°What are you doing back here? You¡¯re supposed to be making your rounds in Lychee, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    He dipped lower, in a position that appeared uncomfortable. ¡°They would not have me down there, and I received word that our son was sick. I felt I should visit, so here I am.¡±

    My mother¡¯s lips curled upward, and she brought her hand back to tapping her chin. ¡°Well, he¡¯s fine now. His treatment just has him groggy. But you are also aware, I¡¯m sure, that you can¡¯t be here.¡±

    My father, Merano, the king, whimpered. I¡¯m sure that I heard him do so.

    Gliding over to him, my mother¡¯s fragrance wafted into my nose. She smelled of cinnamon. Then I blinked, or at least I think I blinked. Maybe I fell asleep for a moment. But when I came to, when I opened my eyes and looked at my father, he had slammed through the door and onto the floor in the hallway, the carpet wrapped around him like he was a carcass.

    ¡°If you know you can¡¯t be here,¡± my mother sneered, ¡°Then leave. Get out of here. Before I do worse to you in front of your son.¡±

    I heard my dad say something, I wasn¡¯t sure what, and then I heard a slam and my mother came back through the door, her arms folded, staring at me with disgust. For me, or for my father, I was never sure.

    ¡°Don¡¯t turn out like him, my little Mint,¡± she cooed, petting my hair. ¡°Your father is the most good for nothing king Longan has ever known, and an even worse man.¡±

    I nodded, and then I fell asleep to her asking me which drink would be preferred by everyone with the stew, winter cider or a honey based beer she said they were working on in the cellar. She placed her hands on my wrists, began running her fingers over my palms, and when I woke up from my dream I realized that Arsene held them in a similar way.

    ???????????????

    When I woke up in that dark basement, I didn¡¯t want to get up and the only reason I managed to get out of bed was because I had to relieve myself and Sage was in the bed next to me snoring to the point where I was surprised he wasn¡¯t waking himself up. Stumbling forward, I found the wall and walked up the stairs with one hand gliding across it the whole way up. Arsene was in the room, sleeping in those awkward pajamas in the bed in the center of the room. I walked outside and it wasn¡¯t until I had found a spot that I realized I hadn¡¯t seen Basil at all.

    ¡°You should be resting,¡± he whispered from behind me, making me gasp and nearly make a mess of myself.

    ¡°And you,¡± I said with the slurred voice of one who hasn¡¯t spoken since they woke up, ¡°You need to cease this sneaking up on me before I kill you.¡±

    ¡°My apologies, Mint. This was merely happenstance.¡± He stood with his back against a tree. He looked terrible. Even though he slept on the boat his eyes were still sunken in, and I couldn¡¯t tell what was holding him together.

    ¡°If anything you¡¯re the one who needs sleep,¡± I said, folding my arms more to keep warm than to appear standoffish. ¡°You don¡¯t look too great.¡±

    He smirked. ¡°You¡¯re right, but I¡¯ll look better again eventually.¡±

    ¡°I noticed you didn¡¯t eat all that much compared to everyone else tonight, and you¡¯ve been becoming less jovial the longer we¡¯ve been away from Avocado.¡± He was silent, his eyes drooping slightly. ¡°I get that you think we¡¯re in constant danger, but Arsene has said we aren¡¯t. So it makes sense to rest here.¡±

    Basil continued to stare at me, looking either bored or tired, so I gave up and walked back to go inside when I heard him finally sigh and answer. ¡°When you were sleeping,¡± he said, ¡°Arsene wasn¡¯t just talking with us about the weather and foreign policy or whatever else kids find boring to converse about. Arsene read our fortunes individually, then as a whole.¡± My body went stiff in the cold, and I found no matter how tightly I hugged myself I was freezing.

    ¡°And?¡± I asked.

    He walked over to me and put both hands on my shoulders. ¡°For my fortune, he revealed that my fate is unquestionably rough¡­¡± he trailed off, tightening his grip on me. ¡°It¡¯s got me worried about what I should do. So forgive me if I¡¯m paranoid, neurotic, I wish I weren¡¯t. If anything, things are worse for you¡ªyou¡¯re still only a boy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m almost fourteen, you know,¡± I said, confused. Basil was obviously worried, and I felt for him. But he couldn¡¯t go calling me some boy. ¡°I¡¯m almost a man.¡±

    ¡°Maybe in your eyes,¡± he laughed. ¡°But in the eyes of the world and the eyes of other men, your physical age doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯ll be a man when you¡¯ve accomplished a feat only an adult, a man, could be proud of. Until then, you¡¯re a frail prince, precious cargo to be taken care of until we make it out of the proverbial woods.¡±

    My blood was boiling in my face, and I yanked his hand off one shoulder and pulled away from the other. ¡°So what were the other ones? The one for Sage and the one for all of us.¡±

    Basil narrowed his eyes at me, then pulled his cloak tighter around him as the wind grew faster, louder, and most importantly colder. ¡°For Sage, he spoke a riddle. He simply said look inside yourself to find the newest form of yourself.¡±

    ¡°The hell does that mean?¡± I muttered.

    Basil just smiled, mischievous. ¡°That¡¯s what Sage said. Sounds like some basic garbage anyone could tell you and be correct, like some two bit fortune teller on a backwater island. But Arsene loves messing with Sage. So odds are he¡¯s right, but it will take until it happens for Sage to get it, and odds are he still won¡¯t get it, the oaf. The last thing was more of a warning, and it confirmed my suspicions. ¡±

    Basil wanted me to humor him, waiting for my response, so I asked, ¡°So what did he say, Basil? Get to the point already.¡±

    ¡°He said, ¡®The Vastmire is in danger.¡¯¡±

    I stared at him, waiting for him to continue and explain that weird thing he just said, but he didn¡¯t. ¡°You want to repeat that? Not sure I heard you right.¡± When he repeated and it was the same word, I nodded. ¡°Am I supposed to know what the hell a vasmir is?¡±

    Suddenly, Basil¡¯s face transformed, cycling through a few expressions before settling on worry. ¡°How in the dark are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°Come on, quit messing with me old man and tell me what it is.¡±

    But Basil just walked away, pacing in a wide, squiggly circle, muttering and rambling like a lunatic. It was fascinating, and a little frightening. After a moment, he perked up and beelined to me, getting in my face so fast that I nearly jumped out of my body. ¡°Your mother,¡± he said, frantic. ¡°She never told you what is guarded in Avocado?¡±

    ¡°Uhm,¡± I trailed off, thinking. ¡°You mean the fortune? Or maybe some legendary weapon like the Almite?¡±

    A vein appeared on Basil¡¯s forehead, and I could feel the pulse of his blood from it through the air. He growled, groaned, and just about screamed, picked up a rock, or more accurately a boulder, and launched it into the sky.

    ¡°Shit¡­ Shit!¡± Basil yelled, repeating the word over and over, pacing back and forth, making me more worried than I had been. If I wasn¡¯t awake before, I was awake then.

    ¡°Forgive me,¡± Basil said, his hands visibly shaking. I felt numb and confused. Either Basil was crazy, which I was inclined to believe for a multitude of reasons, or he knew something I didn¡¯t. Something I should have known, maybe everyone knew.

    ¡°I¡¯ll forgive you when you tell me what¡¯s got you so worked up,¡± I said, still numb.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what the Vastmire is, do you?¡± Basil asked, locking eyes with me, unblinking. It made me blink a bunch.

    ¡°I thought we established that,¡± I said. ¡°I can¡¯t even pronounce it. Am I supposed to know it? Is it some kind of weapon?¡±

    With a sigh, he looked down and nodded. ¡°In some ways, yes. In others, it¡¯s a demon. The Vastmire isn¡¯t something so easily explained, but essentially it¡¯s what lets myself and Sage run on top of trees and use the strength that we have.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s like magic?¡± I asked. ¡°Or some kind of superpower?¡±

    ¡°At its most basic, maybe,¡± he said, running fingers through his wild, spiked hair. He needed a wash. ¡°It¡¯s not so easy to explain, like I said. But if I had to burn it down to its most basic level, then sure, magic works. But it¡¯s exclusive to our kingdom of Avocado, a genetic birthright. No other country has it, their magics and weapons inferior to the strength Vastmire gives us.¡±

    Nodding, a chilling air hit me all at once and my nose began burning with each breath I took. ¡°Let¡¯s continue inside,¡± I said. Basil nodded and we rushed back inside together. There was no fire, but the moment the door shut it felt as warm as it would with one.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I said quietly, rubbing my hands together under my cloak and breathing on them as warmly as I could. ¡°So if it¡¯s a birthright, how does Cashew get the Vastmire? Do they breed with us or what? Is there a password?¡±

    Basil shook his head. ¡°No, nothing like that. Vastmire is something that lives in everything in Avocado.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    Sitting close to me, he asked, ¡°You never left Avocado before, right?¡±

    ¡°Until now, no. Mother said I shouldn¡¯t be like my father, I needed to be a pillar of reliability and remain home.¡±

    Sighing, Basil made a shaky fist and tried to steady his breathing. ¡°Forgive me, but the Queen can be such a fool. Well, whatever. So to you everything here on Durian looks incredible and strange, right?¡± I nodded. ¡°Well, Avocado is exotic, not the other way around. Our grass there is blue when elsewhere it¡¯s green, the water is green where elsewhere it¡¯s blue, the trees grow strangely and the sky is green from our water¡¯s reflection. Most animals don¡¯t live there anymore, we have a few rodents and smaller predators like badgers and wolverines but everything bigger than that didn¡¯t survive the new element. Vastmire¡¯s influence is that great, and it reflects even in us.¡± When he said that, he knelt close to me and pulled his hair taut, then he nodded towards Arsene. ¡°See how dark his hair is compared to ours? Everyone with Vastmire has green hair and green eyes like us.¡±

    Still shivering, I chattered out, ¡°So I can use magic like you and Sage?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to regret saying it¡¯s magic, aren¡¯t I?¡± he mumbled. ¡°It¡¯s like magic, but not really. Magic is something everyone can use, this is something a bit different.¡±

    ¡°But the results are similar,¡± I chattered.

    Basil stared up at the ceiling and said, ¡°I¡¯m no teacher.¡± Then he moved and laid down on his back. ¡°Magic is a power that you can learn to use that manipulates the world around you. Vastmire is something that exists in us due to our geography, our genes, and it¡¯s the world influencing us. It¡¯s like a conversation between us and the power, and we use it to make ourselves do things that are beyond our means. Does that make sense?¡±

    ¡°I think so,¡± I said. ¡°It makes us a weapon?¡±

    ¡°Precisely,¡± he said, relieved. ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s desirable to Cashew and others as well. Magic isn¡¯t as powerful for warfare as Vastmire is.¡±

    ¡°So I can use it too then?¡± I asked, excited. Being strong was something that mattered to me as a prince, but was always out of my reach. I never won a single sparring match in my weapons training, and I never bagged a single animal on any of our hunting trips. It got to the point where by the time I was ten they had given up on training me like a man and began training me like a scholar. And it seemed, I thought angrily, they had even hidden the truth from me then as well. I knew so little.

    Basil shook his head. ¡°No, you can¡¯t. For some reason, you are an ordinary boy aside from your hair color.¡± I sat still, shivering every ten seconds. ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s why your mother hid it from you. She didn¡¯t want you feeling different.¡±

    ¡°You mean inferior,¡± I said, quiet and cold. I think Basil said something then, but I don¡¯t remember. I got up and, wordlessly, headed back down stairs to try and sleep.

    Of course, luck did me no favors and Sage was there sitting upright in his bed, legs crossed with one hand on a knee, the other hand resting on his chin. His hair was even more wild after he had slept.

    ¡°You should be sleeping,¡± he remarked drowsily.

    ¡°So should you,¡± I said, hopping into bed and pulling the covers over me. I made sure my back was to him to discourage him from speaking to me.

    ¡°Well, I was asleep,¡± he said, ¡°But for some reason I heard noises and talking, and you weren¡¯t here.¡± He heaved a sigh, rubbing his eyes. ¡°I was worried.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you sleep through everything,¡± I asked, annoyed. ¡° Basil is keeping watch. No reason to worry about us.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s plenty of reason to worry,¡± he chuckled. ¡°What were you two talking about then? I assume it was you two, since you won¡¯t tell me.¡±

    Fidgeting, I adjusted my head to get more comfortable. ¡°He told me about the Vastmire.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± he said, then went silent, so I continued bitterly, ¡°I just want to go home and be with my mom. I can¡¯t be of any use away from home, but you two idiots seem to think I have so much to do.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± Sage said, cutting in. ¡°We just need to learn more about what¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s my point,¡± I said, smiling the stupid smile of a person believing themselves right. ¡°You two don¡¯t even know what the whole situation is and you¡¯re removing me from it. I don¡¯t even know you. If we needed someone away from the kingdom, well my father is. He always is. He never even came home for the solstice celebration. So for what reason do I need to be here? Isn¡¯t one person away enough? Let alone it being the king of all people. The citizens think we¡¯re weak without a king.¡±

    ¡°You think them that sexist?¡± Sage chided. ¡°Come now, boy. Have more faith in them, and in your mother.¡±

    ¡°You misunderstand me,¡± I groaned. ¡°That¡¯s apparently your big talent. Maybe you got put in that big empty brick house because you made stupid assumptions.¡±

    The silence after told me I was right, and my grin grew wider, my chest swelling with undeserved pride.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t far off,¡± he confirmed. ¡°But that¡¯s besides the point here. I am well trusted among our country¡¯s officials. Hell I may as well be your uncle with how close I am to your father.¡±

    As much as I wanted to remain ¡°invisible,¡± that made me get out from under the covers and look at him. His face was so tired, so wretched, and for me so unexpected that it took that swell in my chest and yanked it into my stomach with enough force to shake me, and I shivered from the cold in me.

    ¡°Do you know him so well?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Maybe not as well as I would like,¡± he said, a sad smile on his face. ¡°But we go back, sure. That¡¯s not the point here though. We¡¯ve gone off topic.¡± Stretching, Sage was trying to reset the situation emotionally. ¡°You seem to think this was all pretty immediate and foolish of us, but that¡¯s not true. You¡¯re missing the bigger picture.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well, think about it. The moment I found you, there were strange people trying to get into your room and take you. And after that we were pursued the whole way up to my home. Not only were you pursued but you were pursued by Cashew royals and army men, not a single Avocado native. So even if you want to believe that this is all our doing, try to understand that you can¡¯t go back home until we come up with a way to help on the outside. Because the moment you get taken back home, you will be imprisoned, maybe killed, for all we know by your own countrymen.¡±

    Sage¡¯s words made sense. And in me I knew these things from the beginning, as I believe everyone does when confronted by these new, terrible experience such as I was, royal or no. Big or small, bad is bad, and when it isn¡¯t something you¡¯re familiar with, it can be difficult to let yourself grasp that situation. So consider this when I say that despite understanding it, I chose not to believe it, even if I wasn¡¯t conscious of the choices I was making, that choice was made by me.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you the benefit of the doubt,¡± I said, rolling back over. ¡°But only because it¡¯s late and if I tried to fight any of you I¡¯d die. I need you guys to get me back, so the only way I can do that is by being cooperative, right?¡±

    He sighed, pounded a fist into the floor with enough force to cause the little home to quake. ¡°No,¡± he boomed. ¡°But fine. If you want to be that way, continue to be a sniveling child.¡±

    I¡¯m sure he spoke more, long and hard about things. I don¡¯t remember them.

 Chapter Nine

    The following morning came fast, and it took all of my energy to remove myself from the comfort that bed provided. Once I did, I went upstairs and saw Basil was already up and cooking breakfast; he looked like he hadn¡¯t slept that night, but the smell was incredible and when I asked him what it was he said we¡¯d be eating some kind of cheese omelette and what he claimed to be Aelf meat. Perhaps he was just joking, but it was damn good regardless. So good in fact that I remember how much I wanted to go back to bed on that full stomach he gave me, and the annoyance I felt at Sage for insisting we leave immediately.

    When we got to the door, Sage was beginning his long and overly friendly goodbye with Arsene when Arsene interrupted him. ¡°I understand that you are trying to boat across the Tamarind on that garbage heap you call a boat.¡±

    Wincing, Sage nodded. ¡°Well, yes. It¡¯s not exactly ideal, but it¡¯s good for the boy. Check his back, I bet he¡¯s put on some muscle.¡±

    Arsene exchanged a glance with Basil, and both rolled their eyes simultaneously. ¡°Sure,¡± Arsene said. ¡°Sure. But he would benefit more from combat training. His body is fit as a fleece, what he needs is practical knowledge, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±

    Sage eyed him a moment before saying, ¡°If you¡¯re implying he can¡¯t get any stronger, you¡¯re sadly mistaken and I will prove you wrong.¡±

    Arsene laughed, face filled with mirth. ¡°No, no, of course he can get stronger. We all can. I¡¯m saying he hasn¡¯t got more than the barest of basics for combat training down. So wouldn¡¯t you agree that he should learn how to, I don¡¯t know¡­ Block incoming attacks from pursuers? Or maybe learn how to take an enemy down? Even use a weapon?¡±

    ¡°Hmph, well sure,¡± Sage said, eyes narrowed. ¡°Get on with it then, what is it?¡±

    ¡°I have a boat up the river,¡± Arsene said with a big smile on his face. ¡°It¡¯s much larger than yours and will require no rowing to move fast, though it won¡¯t move quite as fast as it would with someone like you rowing, Sage. Speed isn¡¯t necessarily important for you though, trust me. The larger space will give you room to spar, which should prove useful. And the larder is filled with food, so that should be good for you, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±

    Up until he said food, both Sage and Basil weren¡¯t too keen on it. Even I was on board with that, though. Any food he could pack would have to be top quality, based on what we had that morning.

    ¡°Alright, well thank you for your help Arsene,¡± Sage said, holding out his hand for Arsene to receive.

    ¡°Not so fast,¡± he said, running back inside. He came out in just a few seconds, barely leaving time for Sage to react. In his hands was a midnight purple cloak that had sparkles on it that looked like stars when they were hit by the proper light, and the inside was lined with what appeared to be wool. ¡°Here,¡± he said, handing it to me.

    I frowned, feeling the warmth of the inside. ¡°Thank you, but you know it¡¯s summer everywhere right?¡±

    Laughing, he said, ¡°I¡¯m well aware. Put it on and you¡¯ll see why I¡¯ve given it to you.¡±

    Sighing, I removed the cloak I wore and replaced it with the one he gave me. To my surprise, it fit properly and was somehow more breathable and light than the one I had received at Sage¡¯s home, keeping me cool despite the materials.

    Arsene saw my reaction and lit up. ¡°See? It¡¯s not uncomfortable in the hot weather. And here, watch this.¡± He took some of the loose hanging cloth that hung around my knees, pulled it up into view so everyone could see, then removed a knife from his belt and cut at it. It didn¡¯t budge, nor did it pierce when he stabbed it. ¡°It¡¯s made of a highly resistant material called Kachin, which appears as a cloth but maintains the strength of most mails any soldier would wear.¡±

    Basil came over and felt the cloak, looking interested. ¡°Where is this material located?¡±

    Arsene shrugged. ¡°No clue. The thing just showed up in the house and I knew it belonged to him.¡±

    ¡°You expect me to believe that?¡± Basil asked, raising an eyebrow. Sage laughed along with Arsene, though.

    ¡°Arsene¡¯s home is where everything ends up eventually. If you need it and you can¡¯t find it¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably under my bed,¡± Arsene finished, with a chuckle.

    I was confused by this, but Basil seemed satisfied and decided not to press further. Arsene is one of those people who never asks questions, so when you pry they have nothing to give. They just state the obvious and hope you accept their nonsense as true.

    ¡°Well, thanks again, Arsene,¡± Sage said, and they shook hands.

    ¡°No problem,¡± he said. ¡°You three stay safe, you¡¯ve got a lot of trouble headed your way.¡±

    ¡°We are aware,¡± Basil said. ¡°And, we thank you for your warning. When this is all done, maybe you can come live in Avocado instead of alone here on Durian.¡±

    Arsene shook his head. ¡°Thanks for the offer, but my place is here.¡± Then, yawning, he said, ¡°Well, I¡¯m off to bed. Sooner you guys get out of here the sooner I can get some rest.¡±

    Everyone turned to part ways, but I knew I had to ask, so I called out to Arsene, ¡°Wait!¡± With everyone¡¯s eyes on me, I took a deep breath and asked, ¡°Do you know anything about my mother? I¡­ I just need to know she¡¯s okay.¡±

    Arsene exchanged a small look with Basil and Sage, then walked over to me and, kneeling down at eye level, said, ¡°I can¡¯t say her exact situation, Mint. I¡¯m not that sort of fortune teller. She¡¯s alive and well, healthy even. But whether or not she is in danger, I can¡¯t say.¡± My face must have shown I wasn¡¯t happy with the answer, so he smiled lightly and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I said, barely a whisper.

    On that subtle note of dissatisfaction, the three of us left, following the river to the north end of the island. Sage carried me the whole way so that the trip would go faster and not because I didn¡¯t want to move, and we flew over the tops of the trees as we did in Avocado. I couldn¡¯t help but stare at how green the trees were, like Basil had discussed with me the night before. It was so alien to me, but he said it was normal. I spent that trip to the boat thinking about how wild and crazy the world would be, thinking of all the things I hadn¡¯t been exposed to, dreaming up ideas that were unrealistic and more imaginative than they should be. I was wrong about every idea I had. But something about the world being, to me, completely undiscovered territory and filled with adventure made me feel something that, at the time, scared me. The desire to explore, to never go home.

    I can¡¯t do that, I thought. Mom needs me. So does my homeland.

    ? ????? ?

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Sage said, hopping down to the ground with enough force that branches cracked and whirled into the air around us. Basil dropped down next to us, just as loudly.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure Arsene is trustworthy?¡± he asked, crossing his arms.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Sage said, walking over to the boat with enthusiasm. ¡°In my time knowing Arsene, the only time he ever led me astray was when he told me that I needed to reorganize my home to create better balance in my mind and spirit. He told me it was just a joke after I returned angry after moving my bed to different rooms on different floors three times and feeling more aggravated than I had before visiting him.¡± He laughed, placing a hand on the hull of the large boat. ¡°It was funny, or at least it¡¯s funny now that it¡¯s all been done. So if anything this is one big joke and we¡¯ll end up on the opposite end of the sea we¡¯re supposed to be. Or the boat will sink the moment we get on it.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°If that was supposed to make me feel more comfortable, it had the opposite effect,¡± Basil sighed.

    I was marvelling at the boat in front of us, standing just behind Sage. The boat was easily bigger than Arsene¡¯s home was, and had a massive sail in the center of it that was gorgeous and intricately designed, with almost tribal markings that evoked a sense of history throughout the sail as opposed to what I had seen drawn in my books back home, the usual fair simply being a symbol of one¡¯s home or coat of arms.

    Grinning, Sage nodded toward the ladder on the side of the hull. ¡°Come on, boy. Let¡¯s check her out, shall we?¡±

    We climbed swiftly, myself especially excited to see what our new living situation would be. Under the pink sunset, the boat¡¯s wood finish was a stunner; it felt like I was riding on something from a dream. We went through the door beneath the steering wheel¡ªyes, a wheel, no rowing for me¡ªand were greeted with a spiral stairway that led down to a hall leading to five separate rooms. A captain¡¯s room, which was filled with all sorts of embellishments that felt more like my mother¡¯s room than it did a quarters on a boat; two separate empty rooms, presumably bedrooms, which would be for myself and whoever didn¡¯t get the captain¡¯s quarters; a room which Sage referred to as the ¡°day,¡± which I gathered to be the relief area; and finally, the coup de grace, the kitchen which was filled to the brim with food to the point where it felt like the cabinets were bottomless.

    ¡°Hopefully none of this goes bad,¡± Basil muttered. ¡°There¡¯s no way we¡¯ll go through all of this even if we end up at sea for the next decade.¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯s the point,¡± Sage said. ¡°I trust we will use as much as we¡¯ll need, and that¡¯s exactly what Arsene must have thought. Now for the more important matter of who gets to stay in the captain¡¯s quarters.¡±

    Basil¡¯s eyes flickered, and his shoulders tensed upward. ¡°Obviously it should be one of us,¡± he said.

    ¡°You think so too? For once we agree on something,¡± Sage said, a grin on his face. ¡°Well, yes it can¡¯t be the boy. He has to focus on his studies and training, so his quarters should be something simple that is just a bed. The captain¡¯s quarters are for the man with the plan, the intellect behind this journey, the one who you two will come to for aid.¡±

    Basil furrowed his brow, becoming mischievous. ¡°So you think you should be the captain?¡±

    Pushing his chest out and standing to his full height of ridiculous, Sage nodded and said, ¡°Of course. I¡¯m the one in charge, after all.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m unsure what gave you that idea, but we both know you couldn¡¯t lead a dog to food,¡± Basil said, shaking his head.

    ¡°And you can¡¯t lead in general,¡± Basil said, a growl entering his voice. Leaning close to him, he said, ¡°Don¡¯t make me embarrass you in front of the boy.¡±

    Surprisingly, I saw his eyes grow wide and he tensed more. He looked nervous. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s settle this then.¡±

    Knocking shoulders, Basil forced himself passed Sage and up the stairs to the deck. Sage smirked and followed, saying, ¡°Like men.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t really sure what was about to happen, but it felt like they were about to fight. Which meant the most sensible thing to do was follow them and watch the results. There was no way I could have stopped them anyway, they never listened to me and both of them were immensely powerful, especially compared to me. I couldn¡¯t just press my noodle arms up against them and yell, ¡°Please stop good sirs!¡± That shit wasn¡¯t going to fly.

    You ever notice that the wind seems to pick up when a fight is about to begin? It did then, and I got goosebumps just looking at them stare each other down, Basil¡¯s glare so intimidating that I was surprised Sage hadn¡¯t called it quits just based on his eyes alone; most men, I think, would have. Sage just smiled, glaring back but with an odd sense to serenity to him. It could have been the sunset hitting him the way it was, or it could just have been his natural demeanor leaning toward what I felt was a lackadaisical calmness that was unbecoming of any sort of leader. Basil felt the same, I would think. Yet Sage was the way he was, and as infuriating as it was, I¡¯d come to learn his strength backed him up in spades.

    The wind stopped, and in that brief instance Basil leapt forward so fast that I was surprised I could see him. Sage barely moved, his palm just raising and stopping Basil¡¯s fist without him even moving backward to brace himself from the hit. Gritting his teeth, Basil launched a second punch, which Sage also guarded. Then, in an act I wouldn¡¯t have expected, Basil sent a kick at Sage¡¯s unguarded midsection. Even more surprisingly, Sage guarded this hit by bending his elbow down. Basil was fully exposed then, with Sage holding him very close and him unable to move, Sage blasted him in the head with his own head, making a clack sound so loud it echoed in my ears and made me shut my eyes. Even as an angry, dispassionate kid, I felt empathy for certain things, and pain was definitely one of them. That hit sounded bad.

    Basil was sent back, dizzy and staggering. Sage walked up to him with an almost disrespectful level of casualness, then he picked him up by his arms and bent backwards completely, sending him sprawling behind him in a throw I can only describe as back-breaking. The fact that the ship wasn¡¯t splintered proved to me only how much they were holding back.

    From that awkward position, Sage kicked into the air and landed on his feet, smirking. ¡°I win,¡± he said, kneeling over Basil. He looked almost like a little kid there, despite the hard lines on his face.

    Basil got up, rubbing his head with a grimace. ¡°Only because we couldn¡¯t use Mire.¡±

    ¡°Hey, no excuses now, that¡¯s being a poor sport,¡± Sage said, slapping him on the shoulder, making him hiss in pain. ¡°Besides, even if we could use the Mire that would only further put you at a disadvantage. I¡¯m the most in tune with Vastmire in all of Tamarind, you know that.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Basil sighed. ¡°Then I¡¯d have won if we used weapons.¡±

    Sage shrugged. ¡°Maybe, yeah. You¡¯re pretty good with swords and stuff.¡±

    ¡°Pretty¡ª! You¡¯re giving me a headache.¡±

    Sage chuckled and shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re an amazing man, Basil. The fact you didn¡¯t already have a headache from that suplex is pretty impressive.¡±

    Basil then proceeded to groan and rub his head some more, fighting off the conniptions associated with dealing with Sage.

    ¡°Now,¡± Sage said, his voice a loud boom he took on when he was either excited or ready to teach. ¡°You¡¯re up kid,¡± he pointed at me.

    I pointed at myself, as if there was another kid around he could possibly mean.

    ¡°Yep, come on over here. Let me see what you¡¯ve got.¡± When I didn¡¯t move, he smirked and put his hands up in a fighting position and started shadow boxing. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go already! I want to see if you really have been stuck studying history like some common scholar.¡±

    Him calling me common made that primal part of me go rigid and I clenched my fists and walked over to him, ready to get it over with. I put my hands up and tried to remember what to do; watch for tells, see if he gives away when he¡¯ll move, move my body with his hits to take away his power. Things like that started to swirl in my head and it became so cluttered that the meaning left the words, and I found myself staring blankly at Sage, wondering if we had started yet.

    ¡°You ready?¡± I said, more for myself than him.

    ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°Take your best shot at me. I want to see if you can hit me at all.¡±

    Sage was already messing my head up. But I had to show him something, otherwise this was going to end worse than it already was panning out to. So I wound up, tightened my fist, and launched a punch as fast as the average tortoise moves when it needs to get somewhere at a reasonable stride. Sage dodged it with as little movement as possible, at the last possible second, my fist catching some of his cloak just barely. I tried again, and again, and again, but the results were the same each time. And, to make matters worse, four punches was all it took for me to start breathing heavy.

    ¡°Alright, alright, that¡¯s enough,¡± Sage said, sighing. He was obviously disappointed, and so was I. Even after all that rowing, I had absolutely no stamina.

    ¡°So,¡± I said, the air stinging the back of my throat like it was filled with cuts. ¡°What did you think?¡±

    He stared at me long and hard, looking at me up and down. Then he pulled my shirt up, and I tried yelling at him but all that came out was hot air from me breathing heavy. ¡°Tsk,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°You¡¯ve got decent tone but you obviously haven¡¯t ran in a long time. I¡¯m amazed you were able to row for as long as you did, but I suppose you were sitting so it was a bit less aerobic than this.¡±

    ¡°I told you, he¡¯s green,¡± Basil said, nursing his own wounds at the bow of the boat.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, well I wanted to be sure for myself. I got to see what he needs to improve, which seems to be a lot.¡± Dropping my shirt back down, he stood up straight and cracked his neck loudly. ¡°Next, I¡¯ll try and hit you.¡±

    The sweat hit me like a bucket of water, and he smiled sadly at me. He felt bad for me, and that made it worse.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll hold back a lot. You shouldn¡¯t get hurt too bad. I just need to test your ability to dodge, that¡¯s all.¡± Putting his fists up, he asked, ¡°Ready?¡±

    Breathing one last burning breath, I nodded and readied my own fists.

    I don¡¯t remember seeing his fist move, or the interval where I got to nurse my own wounds. I just remember waking up in the bedroom I was given, with Sage sitting in the corner sharpening his blade with a palm sized stone. When he saw I had woken up, he said, ¡°Sleep, it¡¯s late and you¡¯ll need all the rest you can get. We start tomorrow.¡±

 Chapter Ten

    The spar between Basil and Sage was more than just a common fight between friends, or even a dispute between two men whose words have lost their power. Apparently, while I slept off the pain Sage had given me from our first training session, him and Basil had come to a decision.

    ¡°Basil is gone,¡± Sage said, looking rather serious our first morning at sea. I didn¡¯t say anything, confused by it all, so he sat at the end of the bed and continued, ¡°We talked it over, and he decided that he could trust me with training you on my own after seeing that I had held back.¡±

    ¡°Really? Was that all, or were you two just tired of being near each other?¡± I asked, a little angry about it. I¡¯d never admit I liked Basil, not back then. But the first thing I thought was who¡¯s going to cook all the food if he¡¯s gone?

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it wasn¡¯t like that,¡± he said. ¡°No, we were just strategizing and it made sense to send one of us back to Persea to check everything more thoroughly, including your mother.¡±

    I jolted up. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I figured you would appreciate it, since you seem to be worried about her a lot. On top of that, it will give us some perspective on things, what their move is, whether or not your mother needs help. It just seemed like the right thing to do, so we called Hammy before we set sail and had her take him back to Avocado. By now, he¡¯s probably outside the city.¡±

    ¡°Is he the right man for this job though?¡± I asked, worried. ¡°He¡¯s not going to get caught? Security is probably tight right now.¡±

    Patting my leg, Sage gave me a reassuring look. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about Basil. He might not be the strongest man alive, but his skills are more subtle than that. He¡¯s second to none when it comes to infiltration, as a spy he¡¯s invaluable.¡±

    I didn¡¯t argue, not just because I had no basis for one despite my doubts, but because I was desperate to believe in the mission. Mother¡¯s situation was on my mind all the time. I didn¡¯t want her to be in trouble without me.

    After that meeting, though, my days on the boat blur together. Let me explain:

    The next few weeks were difficult for all of us, but the only one who¡¯s pain I remember was my own because it was constant and visceral. It still is; I associate most memories of that boat and Sage with bruises and trauma.

    For the most part, each day proceeded as follows:

    I¡¯d be woken up with force by Sage, who would flip my bed so I was sprawled out on the floor and agitated, then I¡¯d go up to the deck where Sage would hand me a plate and a cup of water. Most days my breakfast was a vegetable roll with an oil dip and some bacon on the side if he cared. He usually didn¡¯t care, though. Lucky for him, the vegetable rolls were fantastic, as expected from a boat stocked by Arsene.

    After I was finished, he¡¯d ask if I was okay to get started. Regardless of my answer, he¡¯d attack me anyway and dodging practice would begin. I gave up answering after the first two days, and honestly it was stupid of me to even try that second day. The first day he made it very clear that the question was rhetorical. He had hit me before he was even finished asking his question.

    Dodging training was exhausting. Most fights last only a minute or two at most in the real world, and even more end in mere seconds. Confrontations are typically a series of reactions, thoughtless and primal, resulting in situations where people aren¡¯t even sure what happened despite themselves being participants. So why Sage insisted on having me dodge his onslaught for an hour every single morning was beyond me.

    ¡°It¡¯s for muscle memory,¡± he said, while tossing fists at me with a laziness that felt disrespectful even though I knew he wasn¡¯t being so on purpose. ¡°When the time comes and you are attacked by someone with the intent of hurting or killing you, you¡¯ll be able to dodge without thinking about it. And that¡¯s important. Thinking will be the last thing you¡¯ll be doing in a fight, trust me.¡±

    This was also his reasoning behind the next bit of training he¡¯d have me do. After maybe ten minutes of resting and rehydrating, he would take me to the center of the deck and have me hit a plank of wood which he finagled into a makeshift shield of sorts. He would move it to different locations on his body¡ªthe face, the liver, the lungs, the clavicle¡ªhaving me hit them all in quick succession so that after a while I got to the point where it was target practice, and I was getting good at it. In a fight, quick hits to spots that matter would end things fast, and in situations where I would probably be fighting more than just one person, this was extremely important.

    Then I¡¯d rehydrate, get some food if things had gone longer than they should have, and we¡¯d finish the day with sparring until sunset began. That was the real meat and potatoes of it all. It was practical knowledge, things that he couldn¡¯t teach using words, just examples. And in that two weeks, my confidence didn¡¯t grow at all. My skills may have gone up, but I would say that it only brought me to where I was when I was training daily in my even younger years, maybe a little better due to the training coming from Sage, the only man who seemed to believe in me without a doubt.

    Every single day, he¡¯d end it by saying, ¡°That¡¯s enough, good. You¡¯re getting better, just remember what we did here today and I think you¡¯ll be able to improve tomorrow.¡± He might have added something like, ¡°Remember to guard and hit at the same time when you can, so you don¡¯t leave yourself open when you hit someone,¡± or, ¡°Keep in mind your body. It¡¯s not always as painful as your face, but if your lungs aren¡¯t working you can¡¯t move well.¡± But either way, our sessions would end on as high a note as he could make it, and though I never really appreciated it at the time, I appreciate it hindsight. It might not have worked then, but his attempt at constructive criticism with a positive spin was much better than him just yelling at me and telling me to get better.

    What really killed all of this, however, was what came next at sundown.

    My days ended with a battle for dinner. Sage would stand by the door and drive me back with small movements that would send me sprawling, reeling, and in general turn the act of standing into an art. The sunsetting below the horizon meant the match was over, and either I ate dinner or I watched while Sage ate, nursed my wounds, drank some water to keep hydrated, then went to bed.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Guess how many times I ate dinner. Go on, I¡¯ll wait. Have a number? Well, you¡¯re wrong if you have a number. Try the absence of numbers, otherwise known as zero. Not once did I get to eat any of that succulent steak, or any of that dessert they had, those sugary cinnamon pasties. I just got water and an early bedtime. Rinse, repeat, fourteen times. Or fifteen? Somewhere around there.

    Some nights I could hear Sage talking to himself in the captain¡¯s roomThe boat would rock, the walls would echo with the ramblings of Sage and creaking boards, and I would lay in bed, eyes bloodshot, staring into the darkness and wishing on invisible stars, hoping for a way to go back to before.

    Had things panned out as they should have, I¡¯d have become a scholarly prince, well respected in Avocado. A life without bruises and decent food.

    Now my arms were permanently a mishmash of blacks, blues, and yellows from all the blocking and dodging, and my eyes were shadowed and gross. It hurt to blink.

    One night I sat out on the upper deck, before Sage went to bed, and I stared out at the ocean and the sky and thought about how mom was doing. I was scared for her; Cashew could be ruthless, especially in my imagination. While I was lost in my thoughts, I heard the door shut behind me. It was Sage, wearing his cloak tightly to keep warm in the windchill.

    ¡°You should be in bed,¡± he said, walking over to me with a stern look on his face. I hated that look; it reminded me of a father I never saw.

    ¡°You should be sleeping,¡± I mumbled, watching the moon ripple in the waves.

    ¡°I would, but I heard something out here and decided to check it out,¡± he said, glancing at the steering wheel like he wasn¡¯t sure he should be there. He gazed out, surveying the sky to make sure we were on the right track. Assumedly we were. ¡°What are you doing out here?¡± He stepped down over to me, arms crossed to keep the windchill at bay. ¡°Just trying to get some air?¡± he suggested.

    I nodded. ¡°Yeah, plus the scenery here is pretty amazing.¡± Taking a deep breath, I sighed and rested my chin on my hands on the railing. ¡°Never really get a chance to enjoy it since when I¡¯m out here I¡¯m busy focusing on not getting dilly-whipped into the ground.¡±

    Grunting, Sage nodded and said, ¡°True enough. Well enjoy for a little while, then go to bed. If you¡¯re tired tomorrow you¡¯ll only get hurt.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I said, and I stared out in silence for a while, waiting to see if any fish might pop out of the water as they sometimes did. Seeing them fly through the air wasn¡¯t breathtaking or amazing, but it was relaxing in a way. Something about the sound of them splashing into the water made my breathing slow down, and I was able to just sit there as a blank slate, unperturbed by the world outside or the thoughts recklessly smashing into one another in my head like behemoths butting heads.

    Right as two fish leapt out of the water, Sage scared me by speaking and ruined the moment.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, noticing me jump.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I breathed, shaking my head. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°You seem sad,¡± he said, his cadence awkward and unpracticed. ¡°Obviously you are, and it makes sense¡­ Are you homesick?¡± It was a surprise for me that he¡¯d get that personal, but it shouldn¡¯t have been that surprising. After all, we were alone together on that ship, and it was always apparent that he wanted us to have a friendly relationship, not one of distance and venom. I should have been happy he asked at all and gave it a shot. Instead, I lashed out.

    ¡°Good of you, my kidnapper, to notice I miss the place you stole me from. Impeccable eyes you have, Sage.¡±

    A wave splashed against the boat, and it was almost louder than the silence between us.

    ¡°I know you must feel like¡­¡± he struggled, making a noise I would have expected from an exasperated four year old, not a full grown adult. ¡°You must feel like I did this to you on purpose, I know. But you must understand it¡ª¡±

    ¡°What, you gonna say it was Cashew again?¡± I scoffed, shaking my head and moving away, showing him my back. ¡°No, there¡¯s more wrong here than just that.¡±

    When he didn¡¯t answer, I continued. ¡°My mother is all alone there in that castle, presumably everyone that was on our side is being held captive and her power has been snuffed to smolder. My father is still nowhere to be seen, and he couldn¡¯t even show up on an important day like the solstice. He¡¯s busy gallivanting around, probably siring a bunch of bastards off in some no-name town in the southern hemisphere of Longan, pretending to be a god when he¡¯s a king. And my mother, she doesn¡¯t even know where I am. She must be worried sick about me. Meanwhile you¡¯re here teaching me fighting that I shouldn¡¯t need, won¡¯t need.¡± I sighed, feeling my mouth tremble. ¡°Can¡¯t use. I¡¯m a pisspoor fighter. I was a worse son.¡±

    ¡°You want to go back and help your mom and let her know you care? Is that it?¡± My sobbing was the only answer I gave him. He placed a hand on my shoulder, albeit awkwardly, using more force than needed.

    ¡°Look,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m not going to pretend what we¡¯ve done didn¡¯t hurt you. But you¡¯ve got to understand, there was no way you were going to have a good experience back in that castle. Not right now.¡± He hesitated, gripped tighter. ¡°Maybe not ever. But from outside, we can try our best to fix things. We can attack Cashew¡¯s capital city if we gather some proper intel, and that can force them to send their troops back to their homeland.¡±

    I turned and stared at him hard through my tears. ¡°Really? Is that what this trip is about?¡±

    Looking ragged, he shrugged. ¡°That was my plan. I always figured we would hit Cashew hard with a makeshift army and force their hand away from Avocado.¡±

    Though he came off as awkward and hard, a strange man to deal with, someone who had little in the way of tact and was beneath me, there was a genuineness to him that was palpable, and in that one conversation he made me¡­ well he didn''t make me like him. Tolerate him, maybe. Accept him, sure. But I didn¡¯t like him.

    Not yet.

    ¡°What are you to Avocado?¡± I asked him, curious. ¡°You seem so devoted to our country, but I¡¯ve never heard of you or seen you before. Who are you, really?¡±

    His face crumpled like a rolled up scroll, and he shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t say exactly what I am, boy. I¡¯ll just say that I am an old friend of your father¡¯s.¡±

    When I pressed further, he just told me to go to bed. But I stayed up a while longer, staring out at the sea, waiting on the fish to pop out for a moment of relaxation. The wheel creaked while Sage spun it. I imagined what mother would think of the plan, and tried to figure if she even had a plan himself with how haphazard everything was going. In my head, I couldn¡¯t see her having some master plan, no matter how much I loved her and thought her to be perfect.

    By the time I got back inside, Sage was already snoring, shaking the boat. Before I fell asleep, though, I heard something weird above and went to look. The sight was confusing; I blinked, rubbed my eyes, then went to bed with a shrug. My sleepiness was getting to me; I thought I had seen something on the horizon.

    Then Sage woke me up a few hours later, as dawn overtook night.

    ¡°Wake up! But be quiet. Cashew is here.¡±

 Chapter Eleven

    I kept my mouth shut, the spit from sleep sealing it tightly like a lock box. Sage peered out from around the corner and saw no one had entered the inside of the boat.

    ¡°Good,¡± he muttered.

    We made our way over to the door leading out to the deck, pace by pace, inch by inch, taking our time and maneuvering around creaky floorboards more gracefully than I could imagine. Sage pressed his ear up to the door and listened closely. I¡¯m not sure what he heard, but it didn¡¯t take him long to decide he was bored. Placing a hand on my shoulder, he gave me that signature smile, telling me well before he spoke that he was about to do something brazen and borderline stupid.

    ¡°You ready?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Ready for¡ª¡± I never got to finish. He kicked the door down and called back over his shoulder.

    ¡°Pay close attention, this will be a good lesson.¡±

    Before I could object, he was out there in no shirt, ripped up, nappy pants, and his hair was spiked over to the right side where he¡¯d been sleeping. He looked about as unthreatening as a startled bird, and I wasn¡¯t sure I liked his odds when I saw the amount of people on board outside. There had to be at least twenty, maybe twenty-five people on the deck, and when they saw Sage they slowly and methodically surrounded him.

    ¡°Ah,¡± a larger man said upon seeing Sage. ¡°Fer a moment, thought mebbe this weren¡¯t the right boat.¡± He and the rest of his crew were nothing like the guys who had chased me to Sage¡¯s home back in Avocado. For one, none of them appeared to be cut from the royal class. Case in point, this guy speaking to us like a bumpkin. No member of the royal army would do that, Cashew or Avocado. For two, their armor was cheap and loose fitting, almost as if they had stolen it. They looked more like pirates than soldiers.

    Sage, despite being an oddball, was perceptive. He noticed immediately and his shoulders slackened. ¡°Oh come on,¡± he groaned. ¡°You guys aren¡¯t from Cashew, you¡¯re a bunch of useless pirates.¡±

    Cocking an eyebrow, the man that spoke before drew his sword and walked over to Sage with a hefty stomp that shook the boat. When he got to Sage, my eyes widened. He was the tallest man I had ever seen in my life. He had to be at least two or three inches taller than Sage, and Sage was already huge for a man from my country. Did they all grow this tall outside of Avocado?

    The man spat on the deck and stomped on the remains. ¡°So what if we¡¯re pirates, eh?¡± He thrust his blade up to Sage¡¯s neck, and they stood like statues for a moment before he asked, ¡°What¡¯chew gonna do about us?¡±

    Not missing a beat, Sage just shrugged. ¡°Well I¡¯ll fight you, if you aren¡¯t willing to go without a battle.¡±

    That man, presumably their captain, along with their whole crew burst into laughter that embarrassed me, and I wasn¡¯t even the target. Sage heard me, and in response he turned his head slightly and gave me a big goofy grin, and a nod that said, ¡°Just watch.¡±

    Reluctantly, I did.

    Immediately, I noticed Sage¡¯s face changed. It was calm, yet stern, and I soon forgot my embarrassment.

    ¡°Ah,¡± the captain said, coming down from his laugh. ¡°Funny boy, ain¡¯t he? Well awright, go getcher crew, we¡¯ll fight ¡®em, won¡¯t we boys?¡± There was a roar of approval.

    ¡°No,¡± Sage said in a tone so quiet it commanded the attention of everyone. ¡°You will fight only me. That should be more than enough for you buffoons.¡±

    There were a few laughs in the crowd, but with a boast so great everyone seemed a bit more on edge, either due to being actually scared of this overconfident bastard in front of them or because they felt their pride was at stake. I¡¯m inclined to think it was the latter, considering Sage¡¯s attire and overall appearance.

    One of the many lessons I learned from Sage was that looks can be deceiving, a simple adage but a true one all the same.

    The captain let his sword drop down away from Sage¡¯s neck, and he shook his head, strutting in a circle around Sage like a shark. ¡°Now, I¡¯m going to go ahead and guess ya ain¡¯t never been in the presence of a bonafide pirate before,¡± he scoffed, his sinister smile widening upon hearing his crew laugh in agreement. ¡°So I¡¯ll be generous. We don¡¯t run no charity, but here¡¯s a handout. Say that one again for me? Who¡¯s fixin¡¯ ta be fightin who?¡±

    Sage then did something I had never seen before.

    He glowed green. Not in some kind of aura or something, nothing like that. It was as if his skin just had sucked up unseen the green in the air, and reflected it outward like a wild sunburn. His hair was even greener, his eyes were bright, and his muscles grew taut.

    Then he took a breath, and in that breath I saw what power my mentor had.

    I couldn¡¯t keep up with his speed, but he proceeded to hit every single crew member of that pirate captain in their grimy face, knocking some overboard, sprawling many over the side of the deck, all within the span of a breath. When my mentor exhaled, he stood behind the pirate captain, absolutely glowing, surrounded by the fallen crew.

    The captain¡¯s sword clattered onto our deck, and he backed away almost into me before Sage flashed forward and grabbed him by the collar.

    ¡°Ah shet!¡± the captain swore, shaking and chattering like a cold dog. ¡°Let me go please! Ye¡¯ve made yer point!¡±

    Sage shook his head. ¡°I have shown you my strength,¡± he said icily. ¡°Now answer my question and maybe you¡¯ll live.¡±

    The captain nodded vigorously.

    ¡°Where did you get the gear you¡¯re wearing? It¡¯s obviously of Cashew make, yet you are not in the Cashew army. So did you steal all of this from them?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°No, no.¡±

    Sage tilted his head at him quizzically. ¡°Oh?¡±

    And then the man told us a chilling tale. ¡°We was out to sea, putting in work ¡®round the Pomegranate region, when a bunch a ships appeared outta nowhere. We thought nothing of it, decided ta move toward the Orange islands to be safe though. Next day one a those ships pulls up and asks fer parley. It¡¯s a naval ship, not something like what we was used to. T¡¯was big, has cannons, a crew of two hundred maybe. And they wanted to parley? I says to my crew, ¡®This guys nuts.¡¯ And he was, he was from Cashew. Said to me that he¡¯d let us go if we took some gear and went over to the Avocado coastline and did our work there. Ya ask me, Cashew probably asked a lot a folks to head that way, bust some skulls n¡¯ steal some shit.¡±

    Sage narrowed his eyes, tilting them downward. When he didn¡¯t speak, the captain put a hand on Sage¡¯s wrist, then reached behind his back and pulled out a dagger. Before I could say anything, he went to slice Sage¡¯s throat.

    In one motion, Sage tossed him overboard and walked over to one of the bodies on the deck floor. Kneeling down, he ran his hand over the material and breathed deeply. Then, in possibly the weirdest display I had seen from him, he launched the remaining bodies onto the boat they had come from, a good half ile away.

    After all that, I just stood there stunned for a second, unsure if I was awake.

    ¡°So,¡± I finally asked him, ¡°Was that the Vastmire you used?¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    He was sitting with his hands steepled on his chin, staring off into space. A beard was appearing on his face, and he looked older, more worn than usual. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°I used a little of it to make me move faster. Didn¡¯t use any for the strength really, outside of a little to make sure they landed on their boat.¡±

    I sat down next to him, ogling him with fascination. ¡°And I¡¯ll be able to use it, you think?¡±

    He nodded, still staring. His eyes moved mildly, flicking in a sporadic circle. At the time I was unaware, but that was how Sage was when he was planning. Quiet, unblinking, his mind moving faster than I could imagine.

    ¡°I think for right now, my training for you will slow up,¡± he finally said, standing and stretching.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Putting his hands on his hips, he looked out at the horizon and nodded, then moved over to the opposite end of the deck and nodded again.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to get us to Mango island today,¡± he said. ¡°With guys like this terrorizing the sea and presumably the coastline around here, we need to hurry up and get ready.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what he meant. We had no oars, so I knew he couldn¡¯t make the boat go faster with his strength. Unless he had a magic sail or was about to get into the water and push the boat himself, we were going to continue moving at the pace we were going at.

    Sage walked over to the wheel and meticulously moved the boat, so subtle that it was down the degree, until he was satisfied with the direction we were pointing. Then, he hopped up on the railing in front of the wheel, facing the sail. The thought clicked in my head, and I couldn¡¯t believe what he was about to do. I couldn¡¯t believe it when he had done it, and part of me looks back on this feat as a deific act. Something heroes do in songs.

    ¡°Hold on tight, kid. Don¡¯t want you falling out.¡± I grabbed a railing and held on for dear life, knowing he wasn¡¯t kidding.

    Locking his arm as if ready to punch, he glowed bright green once more. Then he let a punch fly so powerful, so forceful, that a gust of wind went with it that sent our boat hurtling across the sea. My body flailed and smacked the boat while we flew across the sea, over the water in a way that made his showing on our way to see Arsene look like nothing.

    Exhaling, Sage stopped after launching a second wave. Meanwhile, I was sitting on the deck floor, rubbing my hands to alleviate the pain from holding on so tightly. My palms were red where the railing was, and my arms and shoulders were throbbing with enough intensity to make my neck hurt. First he sat, then he stood, then he sat again, then he yelled, paced around, sat down, got up, then he just sighed. I asked what was up and he shook his head, probably more at himself than me.

    ¡°I never checked their boat,¡± he cursed. When I asked why that mattered he took a breath and looked like he wanted to cut the boat in half. I¡¯m glad he stopped himself; I knew he could do it if he let loose. ¡°They might have left something there that could have clued us in on where Cashew was going, what they were doing. There may have even been someone from Cashew on board. We missed the opportunity because I was so focused on getting to Mango so fast.¡±

    I didn¡¯t really get it, so I just said, ¡°Well, odds are we will get more done just getting to our destination now. Not much reason to worry, I¡¯m sure it will all work out.¡±

    He blinked at that. ¡°Hmph, what a bottle of sunshine you are! Normally you¡¯re more of a morose kid than that. What¡¯s with the change?¡±

    I just looked down at my reddened hands and said, ¡°Deliberating on the situation is only going to give them all more time. We need to get ready, and I want to get stronger. If you can take out that many people, then I need to take out double that.¡±

    Sage walked over to me and grabbed my chin so that we were looking at each other in the eyes. After a moment, I looked away and he slapped me across the face. Even without any mire, it hurt like hell.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you do that?¡±

    He grabbed me by my shoulder roughly and breathed deeply through his nose, whispering at me. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me, boy. Don¡¯t lie to yourself.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? I really do want to get stronger!¡±

    Sage tossed me to the ground and went back over to his spot so he could send us to Mango. But before he sent us across the sea at high speed, he told me, ¡°You need to get stronger, we both know that. But if power is something you want, I¡¯m going to stop this training altogether.¡±

    I didn¡¯t get what he meant, so when the boat splashed back into the water again I said, ¡°Look, I know that on this trip I¡¯m not exactly in charge, and I know that I¡¯m the youngest by far¡ª¡±

    ¡°In more ways than one,¡± he interrupted, a smile creeping onto his face. It was different from his normal one, more smug.

    Glaring at him, I continued, ¡°I know all that, I get it. The thing is, you shouldn¡¯t go around hitting people like because they disagree.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not why I hit you,¡± he said, winding up his fist and getting ready to launch.

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    Rolling his eyes, he stopped and folded his arms, tapping his foot annoyingly. ¡°Right, get on with it so we can get out of here.¡±

    When he was looking at me then, the pain on my face grew more intense and I could feel my eyes get hotter, my nose tingle with the premonition of sobbing on my horizon. I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head, but I had no real experience saying things like this. Even less experience doing it to someone who had made it clear, as much as I despised admitting it, that he was far superior to me in all sorts of ways.

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m not sure what I want.¡±

    ¡°Good, you get it then,¡± he said, and he moved again but I continued.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t get it. I don¡¯t get what I¡¯m supposed to want, or what I really need, or anything like that. My level of experience with the world is minor, the amount of people in my life are miniscule. I don¡¯t know many people, and I don¡¯t know who I am, who I¡¯m supposed to be. I never really thought about it.¡± At that point, the tears were rolling and I felt as if the meaning was becoming lost, like I wasn¡¯t even sure what I was saying. Because I wasn¡¯t.

    Sage, despite being unprepared for this, softened his face and came over to me with an aura of gentleness that seemed impossible to belong to the man who had hit me. Kneeling down, he got eye level with me and said, ¡°I know you think none of that is normal, but trust me, it¡¯s okay. I was the same way when I was your age.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I asked. I didn¡¯t believe him.

    ¡°Of course, what makes you think you should understand yourself when you don¡¯t really understand the world yet?¡± He hummed a moment, and his eyes rolled upward, then he focused back on me. ¡°Let me ask you this: have you ever done anything for the citizens of Persea? Interacted with them? Become their friend at all?¡±

    I shook my head.

    ¡°So then you don¡¯t even understand why you have to protect your country, then, do you?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh? Then tell me.¡±

    ¡°I need to protect my country for the sake of my mother.¡±

    He frowned at me, then sat down. ¡°You need to understand, your mother isn¡¯t what the kingdom is all about.¡±

    ¡°I know that,¡± I said. I didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Look, you don¡¯t. That answer shows that you equate Avocado to your mother, and that¡¯s a dangerous way of thinking. Finish this sentence for me. A kingdom is nothing without its¡­?¡±

    After thinking for a moment and sniffling a lot, I answered, ¡°King?¡±

    His frown grew deeper, hitting his forehead with more lines than ever. ¡°No. And not the queen, or the prince, or any royal member of the family. Your line of thinking is true for some people, sure. In fact it¡¯s probably true to many royals. But you need to understand before you become a king yourself, that the most important member of the kingdom, the person who makes up the kingdom, the person you need to protect, isn¡¯t a person at all: it¡¯s the people, the citizens, and especially the next generation. If the queen, your mother, dies, Avocado can still prosper. If the people die, however, or they are enslaved or taken captive or they escape from their own country because of how messed up things become, then we have lost the kingdom. And truthfully, it goes deeper than just the people. You have to protect the ideals of the people, and instill good ideas in them in the first place. The citizens are your flock, and you are the humble shepherd, do you get me?¡±

    Nodding, I rubbed my eyes and said, ¡°I think so.¡± I still didn¡¯t get it.

    Patting my head, he smiled warmly at me. ¡°Good. Now let me go back to getting us to Mango, alright?¡± I said okay and grabbed tightly to the railing again. He said I should go inside, that it was safer, but I wanted to experience the speed he was able to make, the power. In our training he only showed me his own physical prowess, never his ability to use the Vastmire. Even at a basic level, it was just mesmerizing to see it in action.

    Before he started, he said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for hitting you, boy. I know it was uncalled for.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay, Sage. I forgive you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forgive me,¡± he said. ¡°When things are going poorly, and your ideals are questioned, and you don¡¯t seem to have answers, remember the pain on your face. Remember the way you cried. Remember how you felt today, remember the passion. Those feelings were genuine, perhaps the most you¡¯ve ever felt.¡±

    I sometimes wonder if he hadn¡¯t said that would I recall the moment as much as I have, as I still do to this day. It was, after all, a painful smack. If I had to answer, these days at least, I¡¯m of the mind to say that I would have recalled that moment but for different reasons had he said nothing. His words resonated with me that day. He was right. I had never felt anything so genuine as that moment, outside of the feeling of loss over leaving my mother. Whenever the going has gotten tough in my life, whenever things have looked bleak, I tend to go to this memory. Even writing this, my cheek stings, and I¡¯m sure it looks red to whomever sees me. More importantly, my chest burns with intensity, the intensity of a man with ideals.

    That fire didn¡¯t start until Sage spoke that day, and it¡¯s only grown since then.

 Chapter Twelve

    <hr>

    We made it to Mango island that day at sunset, and it was all I could do to hang on the whole way, a task Sage considered an adequate replacement for my training. Once we hit the harbor¡ªand by that I mean the boat was beached awkwardly, which got Sage to swear up a storm¡ªSage handed me a few pasties we had and gave me the rundown on what we were about to do there.

    Only after I asked him, though.

    Already done his food, Sage stretched and cracked his neck, sighing. ¡°Well in case you forgot, I told Basil that we¡¯d meet here since it¡¯s neutral territory. He knows the way. Besides, I know this place well.¡±

    Between mouthfuls of food, I asked, ¡°We¡¯ll just be waiting here then?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Sage said, with a smirk. ¡°Not anymore, at least. No, now that we know Cashew¡¯s got all sorts of rogues and pirates employed in their army, we should probably see if anyone here needs our help. Mango is like a home away from home for me, and I¡¯d rather its people not get killed from a bunch of well armed buffoons ready to plunder everything in sight.¡±

    ¡°How noble of you,¡± I said, sarcastic.

    Sage ruffled my hair and sighed. ¡°Why thank you.¡± He began walking across the beach, but before he got to where the trees grew he said, ¡°Well, come on, it¡¯s nearly nightfall and we have some ground to cover.¡± So I followed him, wiping my hands clean of pastie crumbs on my cloak.

    The forestry of Mango was incredibly different from what I had seen on both Durian and Avocado. The trees weren¡¯t a tall affair, nor were they the tremendous conifers of my homeland. They were instead what Sage called a star tree, which made sense to me as the trees were topped with a bush of green in the shape of a traditional star shape, and the trunks were naked and curved without any branches to speak of. There were no huge animals or crazy creatures like the behemoth on Durian. Instead, flocks of birds filled the sky, and I saw a great big bird with a beak larger than most animals digging in the dirt vigorously, then poking its head out and looking around as if in shame. There were also some smaller rodents such as rabbits and mice, but I didn¡¯t see too many of them. Much to my pleasure, the scent of the sea carried itself across the tiny island, which kept me in higher spirits than usual. Something about that smell seems to have that effect on people, no matter how tired of it you may think you are, you¡¯re never too overexposed to that smell. It¡¯s always nice.

    On the short trek through the forest of star trees, I asked Sage about the Orange Archipelago since he wasn¡¯t busy flying through the air for once.

    ¡°What do you want to know?¡± Sage asked, maintaining his speed and forcing me to walk in step with him. For a man who claimed I was done training, he sure was accustomed to making me work hard.

    ¡°Well, when I was learning about the lands of our world back home, there wasn¡¯t much information about any of the Orange islands. In fact, they didn¡¯t have separate names as you¡¯ve called them, they¡¯re just called the Orange Archipelago in my book.¡±

    ¡°Your book is out of date,¡± Sage said with a chuckle. ¡°The Archipelago as a home is a relatively new concept.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense.¡±

    Sage nodded. ¡°The archipelago has been inhabited since it was a single island eons ago, just not by a society in the way you and I are familiar with. These days, however, the islands of Mango and Tangerine specifically are the ones that house families that descend from civilians who had to escape the mainland due to war.¡±

    ¡°Which war?¡± I asked.

    Looking grim, Sage just said, ¡°Many wars, not just one. I expect that there should be more people staying here than last I was here, since Cashew seems to be acting recklessly.¡± He gave the last part venom, and I could feel his anger flare up just from talking about it.

    The civilian makeup of the land wasn¡¯t quite what was interesting to me though. ¡°So why did you start coming here?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Sage barked, then he breathed deeply and calmed down.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you start coming here?¡± I repeated, but Sage didn¡¯t seem interested in answering me. Sighing, I tried again, ¡°Well alright. Then how about this; who owns this place? Is there a king or something? Since it¡¯s not a real country and all.¡±

    ¡°Oh it¡¯s a real country, boy,¡± Sage drolled. ¡°It¡¯s a land that has more need for order than any other, really.¡± I asked why. ¡°Well, simply put, with all the different sorts of people around here, there could be cause for internal conflict among the denizens of the islands. Some people could be running from the war between Cashew and Avocado, for instance. Let¡¯s say they¡¯re from Cashew, and they come here and they end up meeting someone who also ran away from Avocado. They could see reason to hate each other, and inadvertently bring the war they sought to leave back here to this haven. So a legal system exists here, with a king overseeing the whole deal.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s interesting,¡± I said, massaging my aching neck and shoulders. ¡°So where¡¯s the king live? Seeing as he¡¯s in charge of the archipelago I¡¯d assume he lives in the center.¡±

    Sage smiled but shook his head. ¡°No, though you are correct that he must remain impartial. That¡¯s why he doesn¡¯t live on any one island. He lives where he lives, and he rules using a system of warriors that could be considered an army themselves.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t say.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Sage said. ¡°They¡¯re called the nine seeds or slices, nine warrior units on the nine islands who strive to keep the peace. They each have messengers, who mingle back and forth to keep the king in the loop. The king also has his own system of information gathering throughout the mainland to keep up on whether or not there will be more residents on their way to the islands. At least,¡± he added somewhat sheepishly, ¡°I believe that¡¯s how it goes.¡±

    ¡°Sounds complicated,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d probably just organize the islands so that the different nationalities lived on different islands, seeing as there¡¯s enough islands to go around for that.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Well aren¡¯t you smart?¡± Sage mocked. ¡°Your derision of their hierarchy is duly noted, however, in case you haven¡¯t noticed we¡¯re technically war refugees ourselves. So how about you just let it be and enjoy the company of the world. This is also a great opportunity for you.¡± I blinked at that and looked up at him quizzically. ¡°This is one of the few places in the world where people are gathered this way. You may find yourself learning more and more about the places you know nothing about, all here on this island. Use the opportunity wisely.¡±

    Excited, I asked, ¡°So instead of training my body, I train my mind?¡±

    Sage laughed heartily at that. ¡°Of course not,¡± Sage said. ¡°You¡¯ll be training just as hard, if not harder.¡±

    With that news, I frowned much of the rest of our walk, which became a brisk jog, to the settlement in the island¡¯s center. It was probably better that we didn¡¯t slow down. That doesn¡¯t mean I didn¡¯t want a break.

    Once we made it to the settlement, I had no time to contemplate how hard the next day would be. The sky had darkened into the deep blue of night, though it was lit by torches as well as the stars and moon. There were many houses built sporadically about, each small enough to have presumably the essentials and nothing else. Space between homes was a luxury, and there weren¡¯t streets but alleyways created by uneven rows of homes. We scraped between two buildings, toward what Sage said was the square of the town, which he called Kiyomi.

    We made it through the alley, and once we got to the square I finally saw the people of the settlement and saw what Sage was getting at with the diversity of people. Some of them looked completely different to what I was accustomed, in every aspect from clothes to colors to size. There were a few that looked like they came from Avocado, which helped me feel less out of place, if only a little. What was surprising was how many people recognized Sage.

    ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡±

    ¡°Hey look, Sage is back!¡±

    ¡°Back again, I see. How are you?¡±

    There were even more whispers regarding me. I was confused, but I didn¡¯t have much time to think on it.

    Sage led us to a home that was larger than the others, though not by much. Like every other building there, it was made from a strange earthy substance combined with the leaves and trunks of the star trees. Everything here looked natural, unedited by the touch of man. It almost felt like we were still outside, despite the sounds of people talking being almost gone when we entered.

    ¡°This is my home here,¡± Sage said, walking over to the fire pit in the middle of the single room. He bent down and snapped his fingers together, causing a spark to fall and start a warm fire in the embers. The room lit up and I could see that outside of the fire, there was nothing, not even blankets to sleep with. ¡°It¡¯s not much,¡± he said. ¡°But it will do for a while.¡±

    I asked, ¡°So what do we do now?¡±

    ¡°Now? You can sleep, I¡¯ve got some business to attend to.¡± Sage removed his cloak and went to leave, when I jolted toward him, hastily grabbing his arm.

    ¡°Hey, you can¡¯t just drop me off here and leave without even saying where you¡¯re going,¡± I said, a little worried. Being alone in a strange new place sounded dreadful, and the harsh accomodations were not making me feel comfortable.

    ¡°I¡¯m not commanding you to sleep,¡± Sage said, eyes narrowed. They glowed with a mild brightness, and my heart started to beat faster. ¡°You may explore here, just don¡¯t go off too far. Sleep would be better anyway.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± I sighed, bit my lip. ¡°But why not let me know what you¡¯re doing? I¡¯ve a right to know.¡±

    ¡°Actually, my boy, you don¡¯t,¡± he said. Then he ripped his arm away and left me without a trace or a clue as to what we were really doing there.

    For a time, I paced around that stark room with a desperate cadence, breathing in and out with a stilted rhythm only achievable when the unconscious action of staying alive becomes conscious, the automation of livelihood now a deliberate, voluntary action, and the room spun with me while I tried to get a hold of myself. I¡¯d never realized just how important having company was in my life, how much the safety of familiarity kept me from going absolutely wild, until that moment.

    Bursting from the little shanty with a force that nearly blew the door off what might have been hinges in a country with coin, I looked from left to right and left and back, searching for any sign of Sage in those slanted alleyways.

    I don¡¯t recall the direction I picked; perhaps it was random.

    What I do remember were the faces I passed, their emotions worn plainly in a show of confusion that may have mirrored myself, I¡¯m not sure. The way my head remembers moments like these are always wild, everything is so exaggerated, so unreasonable; faces float on cloudy bodies; the alley becomes narrow and more narrow, evermore; the buildings rise and warp and enclose; I wasn¡¯t okay.

    You might say it was an overreaction, reading something like this. It¡¯s not something I often recount for that reason. For it was an overreaction, the feelings elevated because of one reason or another. If you want my opinion, it was a number of things. I was young, still very much new to the world outside, and it was a stressful time in my life. By this point, whether or not I knew it I¡¯m unsure¡ªprobably not, though¡ªI was entirely reliant on Sage for everything. Seeing him leave me like this was in a way the straw which snapped the serpent¡¯s fangs.

    Most of all, though, I¡¯m just poorly adjusted to being alone. My wife can attest to that, poor woman has to put up with my annoying banter constantly so I can remind myself she¡¯s there, and I¡¯m fine.

    So I ran. I ran and ran, and after a while my memory clears up and I find I¡¯m out of breath, leaning against one of those shanty homes, with no one visible to me. But through the walls I hear a voice, and I know it to be Sage, and I¡¯m unsure how I found him, whether I asked or just saw him and followed I¡¯m not really sure. There he was, though, speaking clear as day.

    ¡°...to say, honestly. I mean it¡¯s not really the right time to ask something like that.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re sure?¡± a gruff, masculine voice asked. It wasn¡¯t as deep as Sage¡¯s but it was hard, and gave me military vibes.

    ¡°As sure as I can be, given what I know,¡± Sage said, sounding very unsure. ¡°How about here, things going fine?¡±

    ¡°As fine as they can be,¡± the man snorted. ¡°They need leadership.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re a fine leader.¡±

    I leaned up against the wall more, pressing my ear so deeply into the wood it surprised me that it didn¡¯t give me splinters.

    ¡°Not fine enough. When are you leaving?¡±

    ¡°Soon, there¡¯s just one thing though. I¡¯m leaving the boy here.¡±

    And I backed up, shocked. Then I quickly stumbled back and tried eavesdropping more. Sage was still talking.

    ¡°...good for him, though. Honestly he¡¯s a good kid, but his head is messy. Sticking around here will be good for him. Just make sure¡­¡±

    Then their voices trailed off, like they were walking away, and I skittered off down an alley in an attempt to get back home. Problem was, I never had to navigate before. I was lost, but at that point I was so emotionally drained that I didn¡¯t care what happened to me. Once I made a couple wrong turns, I found myself sitting down, back against the wall of some building behind me. I heard someone snoring loudly through the walls, and felt an odd comfort in the sound.

    I dozed off for a moment, and was in the state between consciousness and sleep when I was picked up by my cloak by Sage.

    He was carrying me already when I asked him, ¡°How did you find me?¡±

    ¡°I looked, that¡¯s all,¡± he said, monotonous; cold. He sounded angry. ¡°What were you doing out?¡±

    Yawning, I held tight to his arm and said, ¡°Looking for you.¡±

    With those words, so simple and true, Sage couldn¡¯t help but smile.

 Chapter Thirteen

    For a week, my training actually progressed as normal, as if we were still just on the boat. I figured Sage was just waiting on Basil, but I couldn¡¯t be sure. Every morning he¡¯d wake me up, make me run with him toward the beach we ported, then he¡¯d have me practice dodging, then he¡¯d have me hit his hand for target practice, then we¡¯d spar; it was almost the same as on the boat, the only difference being Sage himself. He never said anything about the first night we spent on Mango. I was beginning to get concerned. Outside of what he¡¯d say during training, our conversations were diminishing, and Sage would often leave at night still, and through exposure I became more and more used to sleeping alone, unprotected.

    The city of Kiyomi was a welcome change for me. Up until then, I had only known Basil and Sage, no one else. Sure I met Arsene and got to talk with him for a short period of time, but outside of that I had been away from home and civilization for nearly a month. Being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of an actual city was nice, even if that city was offbeat and strange. I became acquainted with their customs and curious about the origins of those people. Everyone looked different, and I mean everyone. When I used to watch the people of Persea outside my window or during holidays where we had many citizens out and about, they would always look pretty similar¡ªI¡¯d often compare them to an ant farm, unfavorably. We all have the signature green hair and eyes, we all have fair to tan skin due to the climate, we all are within the same height range, even our facial features get samey. It¡¯s almost creepy how little changes from person to person.

    In Kiyomi, however, everyone was a crazy color, with hair and skin the whole spectrum of the rainbow. No one seemed to speak the same, and everyone dressed in clothes that were probably from their country of origin. Our neighbors on the left, for instance, wore head wraps every day and matching clothes that looked to me like a dress but Sage said they were called curtas, and they were worn in tropical climates like the one we were in. Conversely, our other neighbors were from Cashew and they wore a modified tunic where the sleeves were cut off short so they wouldn¡¯t sweat so much.

    Until we had been there for a full week, however, I hadn¡¯t gotten to experience much of the local flavor until Sage decided to stop in the middle of our training on the beach. I had just launched a kick and actually would have hit him had he not given up on paying attention to me and turning around, walking a few steps away to go stare off at the horizon.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± I asked, breathing heavily and having a hard time standing up. After one failed attempt at standing I gave up and sat in the sand.

    ¡°Take the rest of the day off,¡± he said, not looking at me. Confused, I looked to see if I could see anything in the direction he was looking. Of course I couldn¡¯t. Nothing but water for miles.

    ¡°You sure?¡± I asked, still not willing to get up.

    ¡°Yeah, go ahead. Maybe see if you can make a friend.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t got any of those,¡± I said, laughing lightly.

    He turned and smiled at me, then pulled me to my feet and pat some sand off of me. ¡°Then how about you go make one, and don¡¯t come back until you do, eh?¡±

    ¡°You feeling okay, Sage? You¡¯re usually more serious about my work than this.¡±

    Sage folded his arms and went back to watching the horizon. ¡°Nonsense, it would be cruel of me to keep you working without any rest. A day of no work should help your muscles recuperate and get stronger. Besides, if you haven¡¯t got any friends, then you haven¡¯t got any reason to get strong.¡±

    I didn¡¯t see how a friend would correlate to me whooping his ass the next day, but I decided not to press further. Sage seemed out of it anyway, like he was focused on something that wasn¡¯t there. So, after feeling less out of breath, I finally headed off into the direction of Kiyomi with a new mission: find a friend.

    This task proved nearly impossible for me, however, due to a number of reasons. For one, the people in town were mostly older and without kids around my age, and it gets weird talking to someone older than you and attempting to establish a friendly relationship with them. Or at least, it did for me. For two, everyone was busy with their own work. Mango is the primary distributor of bell peppers across the whole archipelago, so most of the adults were busy tending to their farms, which were further north from the city. So for the most part, the whole place was a ghost town save for bottom of the barrel scum, the true good-for-nothings.

    Most importantly in all of this was something that still affects me to this day, though. When it comes to initiating conversation, I¡¯m pretty anxious. Especially when it comes to trying to befriend someone.

    When I was six years old, I had already started to become accustomed to a quiet, lonely life indoors. I knew my teachers, but not as friends, just as teachers. I knew my cooks, but not as friends, just cooks. And I knew my mother¡¯s attendants and my own attendants, all of whom spoke and treated me as they should, so not as friends but as a master to a slave. My mother was never my friend, as she shouldn¡¯t be. She was my mother. I didn¡¯t need to impress her, she cared about me due to the same intrinsic reasons as I did.

    On a downcast, rainy day back then, my mother decided that it was time for me to train as a man. I know, being six means I¡¯m as far from manhood as it gets, but in our society it¡¯s important to demonstrate your value as a warrior even if you don¡¯t become one or are not even very good as one. A bad warrior is still a good man, they say. So on that day she presented me with what I would refer to as slave garments but were in fact the traditional wear for warriors in training, something called a goh. They were just plain clothes, white ones that were supposed to turn colors the harder you worked. Mother called it magic, I called it sweat. You can see where the slave garment name came from.

    Once I was dressed and ready to go, my mother sent me off with an attendant to go to the training grounds for our standing army. A few members of that army were given the task of training the young men in our city, and they treated the task with indelible fervor, something I learned the hard way.

    My attendant didn¡¯t speak to me much, mostly she just spoke to herself and held my hand so I wouldn¡¯t get lost. They would often do this, speaking to themselves as though I were not there. Because to them, I was just a job. They were glorified sitters.

    When we reached the training field, there was already a large group of boys there, all different ages, probably ranging from my age of six upwards to maybe fifteen or so. It¡¯s hard to tell once puberty is reached. Regardless, we weren¡¯t separated by age, and they were all being spoken to by a massive, rough piece of work I got to know as the Passer. He never wore a shirt, instead choosing to show off his physique and his many tattoos, which I thought was strange since tattoos were forbidden to have or show in Avocado. I asked my mother about it, she told me he wore them proudly to intimidate his enemies.

    After a day of training with him, I decided he was simply a bully.

    That isn¡¯t what this is about, though. My attendant introduced me, said I was the prince and was there to begin my training. None of the kids took me seriously immediately. Not only did she place a target on me by referring to me as the prince, but she held my hand the whole time and treated me like a baby. Not speaking up for yourself is bad in most social situations, and as I came to find out it was horrible in front of a group of boys learning to fight.

    Every day for the following three years, I was fought by the other kids and defeated soundly each time, not only because they were straight up better than I was but because they hated me. Kids are cruel, and that testosterone fueled group was ready to break my neck every single time. Somehow, though, I never really cared about that. Even when I was young and living those days that are now faraway memories, I never felt the same sort of animosity they felt towards me. I just wanted to be friends with those kids. It never worked out, and I tried coming up with plenty of sound rationalizations in my youth. When I was thirteen and on Mango island, I think I believed they didn¡¯t like me because of my approach or my age. The truth was that it had more to do with me being some uppity prince who got in at age six despite not showing prowess, and I¡¯d feed their hate more and more by being indifferent, quiet; simply existing was my crime in their eyes. Had I been a little older, a little wiser, or at least talented, then perhaps they could have respected me, or even befriended me as one of their own.

    An outcome like that sounds wonderful, like a passing daydream.

    The cruelest of them all, though, was the Passer. Every single time I had a match with someone, he would grin with those foul, pointed teeth of his and shake his head, knowing I¡¯d lose. Most of the time he¡¯d pair me with one of the older kids with much more experience, and give them a weapon their size, which obviously makes sense to do but that also gave them so much reach compared to me that my little wooden stick would never reach them even if I was semi-good at what I did. I¡¯d get trounced, and the Passer would laugh and pick me up¡ªoften, I¡¯d be knocked to the ground, face down¡ªand he¡¯d say, ¡°See, boys? This is the boy you protect for a reason! He can¡¯t protect himself. So keep getting better, because obviously he won¡¯t.¡± Even worse, I¡¯d hear him sometimes mutter to himself that I shouldn¡¯t be there.

    Anyway, long story short my experiences with meeting new people were pretty bad up to this point. The memories of those days replayed in my head the whole way back to Kiyomi, and I found myself stopping a few times to turn back, or contemplate just hiding away in our shack. I wandered the nearly empty streets and avoided eye contact with everyone, eventually making my way to the open square in the center of town. In the very center there was a gazebo, with some rocks scattered about to use for seating. There were a few people there, but there was a spot far enough away from everyone that I decided I¡¯d sit there and just wait. I couldn¡¯t muster up the courage to speak to someone. How would I even go about introducing myself? What if they didn¡¯t like me?

    I sat there alone, still, locked in my head so much that I could feel my chest pound and my head spin, and my eyes couldn¡¯t focus. My breathing became faster and faster, and by the time I got up and went to our shack I was sweating up a storm. I couldn¡¯t do it. Maybe if I wasn¡¯t thinking so much, sure, but sitting there alone and stewing on those memories and the different imaginings of what might happen if I walked up to any of those people¡­ I was in my head. And my head was sick.

    When I walked inside, I went physically insane. I paced back and forth, I screamed, I muttered, I hit myself, and I kept doing these things until the palpitations subsided, my breathing steadied, and my thoughts became less hazy, less primal. And when I felt better, and I was able to sit down and really think about everything, I realized how much of a fool I was being. I mean, nothing had even happened. All of the pain that I was feeling was in my head, there was nothing to be afraid of yet. The sun was nearly set, but with a newfound resolve I decided to return to the spot and give it another try. After all, without Sage¡¯s training I wouldn¡¯t be able to help anyone. So I went back and sat on the same rock, staring into the ground until the sun was gone and all the people disappeared into their homes. No one spoke to me, but I sat there, out in the open, hoping someone would speak to me.

    Baby steps, right?

    ???????????????

    It took me three days to meet a friend. I damn near lived on that rock in the square the entire time, despite a new problem arising in the form of Sage¡¯s disappearance. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Let me back it up:

    Sage never returned that first night. I came back to the shack and saw no one, so I decided to try and sleep after a fitful day of absurd amounts of silence and bombardments by my own imaginative armies on my own psyche. I woke up when the moon was high to an a distraught looking Sage, and I asked him what was wrong but he just shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to leave the island for a while. Basil really should have been back by now, and I¡¯m getting worried. Sorry, boy.¡±

    Nothing he said really hit me hard at all, and it never set in later that he was gone. I already felt like he was gone, I guess, so it wasn¡¯t a huge surprise to me. In some ways it made me a lot happier that he was leaving. I could do things at my own pace, and give up on befriending any of the heathenous common folk living on that putrid island. Those were my thoughts then, I think.

    I asked him if he wanted me to come with him, just to be sure, and he shook his head. ¡°The further you stay away from the mainland, the better. It will take me no more than a few days, a week at most. Stay here and lay low.¡±

    ¡°But what about my training?¡± I asked, yawning.

    ¡°Try keeping up with it. At the very least get in some exercise to maintain your health, otherwise when I get back you won¡¯t be able to keep up with me.¡±

    In a moment of clarity, I sat up and decided to ask him what had been on my mind since we had set out.

    ¡°Can I even get stronger? I still feel so weak.¡±

    Sage was silent for a moment, silhouetted in the windowsill, the whites of his eyes the only thing visible on his darkened frame, he appeared as a shade. ¡°I believe in you,¡± he finally replied, simply and with finality. I nodded and went back to sleep, too confused and tired.

    I would have forgotten any of it happened at all except when I woke up he wasn¡¯t there, and the fact that everything about him was missing helped remind me of our conversation. It was the first time in over a month that I had no real direction or reason to do anything, for once I could do things based on what I wanted. And, ironically, there was no reason for me to do anything at all. I was stranded on an island, surrounded by people who didn¡¯t know or care that I was a prince, and all I was told was to wait for people who had proven that they would only do what they wanted to do for themselves, not for others.

    Without much thought put into it, I ended up doing the same thing that day as I had the previous day. I sat on that rock, alone and hungry, stuck in my head.

    My entire life I had been told that I couldn¡¯t get stronger. Not only had I been told this, it had been proven in numerous instances. I couldn¡¯t pick up anything heavier than a child sized sword, I couldn¡¯t run very far, I couldn¡¯t row very well as Sage and Basil learned on our trip to Durian, my fighting prowess was poor, and my self worth was too low to qualify as a warrior, as you probably are well aware after that onslaught of self-deprecating insight. Though I¡¯m loathe to write it, it¡¯s true that I thought this way back then. From dawn to dusk that day, I played out the memories and thoughts in my head, and not a soul came to my aid to speak with me, which really reinforced my thoughts. I wasn¡¯t worth fighting for, so why should I get stronger? What was the point? I may as well just die.

    With this thought in mind, I headed back to the shack, slept, woke up and did the same thing. The second day was further removed from everything, and I was slightly less depressed. Slightly. Everything played out normally, right up until sunset on that third day.

    A man who I had seen each of those days got up from where he sat and sat down next to me. He wasn¡¯t very tall, but he was lithe and his muscles were well toned from daily use, his clothes were sandy and faded, his hair dark and stringy. He had a stringed instrument in his hands, which he later told me was a lute, which he tuned idly while sitting on his rock. I glanced at him and quickly averted my gaze to another spot unoccupied by living bodies, and in my peripheral I saw him smirk.

    ¡°How are you doing?¡± he asked, his voice clear and soothing.

    I went to reply, but my lips were stuck together from a lack of use so I simply shrugged.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you here each day,¡± he said, then he pointed to where he had been sitting previously. ¡°Normally I perform over there. Have you seen me here?¡±

    I nodded, still reluctant to pull my lips apart from their disgusting saliva-caked prison.

    He removed a hand from his lute and held it outward for me to grasp. I stared at it, wary. ¡°My name is Conifer,¡± he said. ¡°What about you?¡±

    He seemed nice, but after brooding for a full three days I wasn¡¯t going to quit just because of a friendly face. So I continued to sit there and attempt to not pay any attention. The man named Conifer just went back to tuning his lute, smiling.

    ¡°Well that¡¯s fine. You¡¯re from Avocado I¡¯m assuming based on the hair? Your people always have such nice green hair.¡± I nodded at that. ¡°Good, you answered. I¡¯ll just ask yes or no questions then.¡±

    After that I expected an immediate interrogation and braced myself, but instead he finished his tuning and began playing a beautiful song. I¡¯d heard inklings of his playing over the past few days, but he was far enough away where I could barely hear it and it was just something in the background. So I¡¯m not entirely sure if he was playing better when he played that song for me, but it felt like he was. There was no way he was playing such serene melodies right there in front of me for the past few days without my hearing it, right?

    I¡¯ve since heard music from a plethora of musicians all across the Tamarind Sea, and there have been players and songs that were similar in quality to Conifer, but none that were better. More importantly, no song was more necessary than the one he played for me in that moment. It was like he hit a pressure point with a trained hand. In moments I was sobbing silently, my gaze averted so this stranger I just met wouldn¡¯t see me at my most vulnerable.

    When the song was over, there was a haunting interlude of him strumming idly, a slow and tuneless tick he had. My chest was filled with butterflies, and I sat there in awe of it.

    ¡°Have you eaten today?¡± he asked me next, as if he hadn¡¯t just played something breathtaking. For him, it was just another song.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I finally said to him, the act of steadying my voice a conscious effort.

    ¡°Oh, he speaks!¡± he said, laughing lightly. Then Conifer switched to a steady rhythm with his lute, strumming harder and softer notes to the beat of the conversation. ¡°Let me ask you this then. Did you come here with King Sage?¡±

    It was strange hearing him referred to like that, but I nodded.

    ¡°Has he left once again?¡±

    He strummed faster.

    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m not sure where he went exactly.¡± I was about to just tell him everything, but thought better of revealing secrets to a stranger. ¡°He never said what he was doing, he just sort of left. If I¡¯m honest, I¡¯m not sure how he left without using the boat we came on.¡±

    Smiling knowingly, he said, ¡°Oh that¡¯s probably simple for him. That man is stronger than he likes to let on.¡±

    Rubbing my eyes, I turned to face him and sat a bit closer to him. ¡°Do you know him personally then?¡±

    ¡°Oh, of course not! He¡¯s our king, and I¡¯m just a resident here like everyone else.¡± He returned to idle plucking, heaving a sigh filled with longing. ¡°He¡¯s a rather easy king to know about though, considering his history.¡±

    At first I didn¡¯t understand, then I remembered what Sage had said all those weeks ago. ¡°You mean that he was the Moss Knight?¡±

    ¡°Aye,¡± he said. ¡°He still is, in fact. Your country simply doesn¡¯t use him after what he did a decade ago.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯d he do?¡± I asked, speaking a faster. My knowledge of Sage was so miniscule, he was such a mystery and it felt like he was never going to open up about himself. Even if Conifer was wrong and what he told me was some common rumor, it would be better than not knowing a thing about him. At least then I¡¯d know what the people thought of him.

    Conifer looked from me to his lute and back again, deciding whether to continue playing or not. He decided that he needed to concentrate on the conversation and rested the lute on the ground, neck tipped against the rock he sat on. ¡°Well, this all happened probably around the time you were born by the look of you, perhaps a little before. Cashew and Avocado were in the middle of a major war, one I¡¯m sure you are familiar with.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°The Attrition War, yeah. We fought on and off for centuries over control of the border between our countries, since it¡¯s such a small piece of land.¡±

    ¡°You know your history,¡± he said, obviously impressed. ¡°You must have been a scholar back home. Most kids your age aren¡¯t familiar with their history.¡±

    The words, ¡°I was a prince back home,¡± were on the tip of my tongue, but I decided against it and instead just nodded.

    ¡°In any case,¡± he continued, ¡°that war had gone on forever, and it had a lot more to do with the strength your country holds in its magic. About fifteen years ago, Cashew gave up on the war of Attrition and chose to send every single troop they had to your border, unannounced in the middle of the night, during King Merano¡¯s birthday no less. Avocado was unprepared for such an attack. The border was nearly taken in no time. But¡­¡± he trailed off, shook his head in disbelief.

    ¡°But what?¡± I asked, breath significantly bated.

    ¡°But you had your Moss Knight,¡± he said, somber. ¡°Sage showed up out of nowhere. Some survivors said he flew in through the sky, some said he materialized out of thin air, and I¡¯ve heard at least one account say that Sage came from Cashew itself, disguised as a warrior in the middle of the ranks before exploding from within. Either way, he came through and devastated the entire Cashew army single handedly.¡±

    ¡°How is that possible?¡± I asked. I¡¯m sure my face was as much lacking in belief as his. ¡°I just can¡¯t see Sage being such a savage warrior.¡±

    Then my memories shifted to him taking out those guys on our boat without a second of hesitation, not a bead of sweat broken on his face. And I started to wonder.

    ¡°It gets stranger,¡± Conifer said. ¡°The fact that he decimated them so soundly was already insane, even with the power of Avocado magic on his side. Cashew lacks a magical art, but their warriors are some of the best in the land, and they are the most well armed and armored by far. Most of their generals are said to carry magical artifacts they¡¯ve gained through trades with Kiwi, their opposite neighbor. Even with all that, Sage just came through and demolished them. Normally, he¡¯d be treated like a second king, I would think. He was a war hero.

    ¡°One of the men from Avocado who witnessed the battle eventually brought information to your King, and as the story goes it was information regarding something Sage had done that night. He did something traitorous.¡±

    ¡°What did he do?¡± I asked, feeling myself lean closer.

    Conifer just raised his hands up in the air and shrugged. ¡°No one knows, but whatever he did got him put in prison. Guy¡¯s forbidden to use his power or leave the country, which is part of why he never stays here long. He¡¯s got to make regular check-ins so they don¡¯t get suspicious over there. Least, that¡¯s the explanation we get over here in Mango. You ask me and I think there¡¯s more to it than all that. He¡¯s a mystery.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he is isn¡¯t he?¡± I said.

    Most of that information about him winning the battle seemed right, albeit exaggerated. The part about his sentencing seemed sort of right, too. He was locked away in some empty castle, after all. He was the king of nothing back home, just living off the land with Basil. And even though I was the prince, I had neither met nor heard of him and his exploits, his strength, his importance as the Moss Knight, or even the existence of him and a position like that.

    He definitely wasn¡¯t leaving to check in. He checked in with no one when I was there, so that seemed more or less like he was simply moving about freely despite his sentence. Which made sense to me, how would you keep a guy who could do the things he can do confined? From what I could see, he could break free from any prison. Put him in an active volcano, and I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he could just jump out of the lava without a single singed hair.

    Out of everything Conifer had said, though, the most interesting was arguably that he referred to Vastmire as magic. Basil and Sage were convinced it wasn¡¯t really magic, so the fact that common folk thought it was seemed interesting to me. Maybe I wasn¡¯t the only one who didn¡¯t know anything of my own country¡¯s power.

    The secrets of Vastmire ran deep.

    We talked more after that, the subjects mostly revolving around the pepper harvest and how hard he and the rest of the citizens were working to ensure there were enough peppers for the archipelago during the winter. The solstice would approach fast, he said. It always comes faster than you think.

    Then he asked, ¡°Where are you staying? You¡¯re all alone in your shack here, I¡¯m assuming.¡±

    I nodded and said, ¡°I can show you my place.¡± He got up and followed me around the corner to where our spot was, and he saw how empty it was and that I was sleeping on the floor and his mouth turned into a straight line, not quite a frown but certainly displeasure.

    ¡°My home isn¡¯t quite as big as this,¡± he said, ¡°but I¡¯ve got enough space for you, and enough hay to sleep on. Besides, I think you could use the company.¡±

    I protested but he just laughed. ¡°Look, you started out acting stoic but the moment I sat down you opened up like an old book. Just suck it up and enjoy my company.¡±

    Reluctant though I was, I went over to his shack and found myself asleep very fast in his hay bed. It wasn¡¯t ridiculously comfortable, but it was a massive improvement.

    Though I don¡¯t remember, I¡¯m sure my final thought before sleep was that I made a friend, and I¡¯m even surer I smiled.

 Chapter Fourteen

    For the next two weeks, give or take, I spent my days shadowing Conifer. He took me to the fields during the day and showed me how to help with the pepper harvesting, which took up a large amount of time for me. Normally I¡¯d hate the work, as despite having done so much exercising and fighting within that short period of time, I still remained unathletic and rather weak. Sure I improved, but improvement meant I went from trash to subpar.Still, the harvest was wonderful for me. Menial work with low, constant effort. Exactly what I needed to keep my body too busy for my head to fill with constant intrusions.

    Conifer made for good company as well. He was an easy going guy for the most part, and spent a lot of his free time playing music in the square. A sizeable crowd would come by and check him out, all pretty much the same group each day. And he¡¯d just play, seemingly different songs each time. One night he told me he played everything off the cuff, that it was all improvisational. Though that didn¡¯t surprise me, it still left me speechless. Talent like that felt wasted out here in the boonies, lost among a bunch of poor refugees.

    Then again, Conifer and the people never seemed to complain really.

    Perhaps a week after I¡¯d met him, when we were at his little shack after the day was done and the sun was almost completely gone, I asked him, ¡°Conifer?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± he mumbled, strumming his lute quietly.

    ¡°Why are the people here so¡­¡± I struggled for words.

    ¡°Content?¡± he finished, a small smile on his face. I nodded.

    ¡°Yeah. You guys are all war refugees, right? That means there really isn¡¯t any reason for you guys not to be unhappy, or scared. I haven¡¯t even seen someone cry since I got here.¡±

    He quit strumming and sighed, sitting up straight. The rings under his eyes were darker than usual, and it highlighted how bright his eyes were, like a pair of unrelenting suns. ¡°That¡¯s right. We¡¯ve all got our reasons, but we¡¯re all generally here because the strong drove us off.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, dumbly.

    ¡°Well, a war is simply the strong displaying their power,¡± he said, his voice growing more full and confident. He tended to do this when he felt preachy. It worked, and I found myself listening to his rants with increased interest whenever he did this. Conifer was a passionate man, and it exuded off of him and touched those he spoke to. ¡°I¡¯m sure even you could guess that, despite not experiencing it first hand. Many of us are weak people, here on the Orange islands. That¡¯s why our trade loop doesn¡¯t include other countries, we survive all alone out here, fending for ourselves and only fighting off the stray pirate here and there with a highly trained force, a force that''s only strong because of our king.

    ¡°We are weak, and have every reason to despise the countries that have sent us here, hate even our neighbors because of it. But we all share a commonality, even with our geographical differences. Know what that is?¡± he asked, a dubious smile on his face.

    I shook my head, mystified.

    ¡°Our despair,¡± he said matter-of-factly. ¡°In our shared experiences of running in fear, we all know what it is like to be driven from our home. So each of us does our part to make everyone here feel at home, even though we are all sick for homes that may or may not even exist anymore. Do you understand what I¡¯m saying, Mint?¡±

    Shrugging, I said, ¡°I think so. Is that why you ended up talking to me?¡±

    Surprised, he scratched his head nervously. ¡°Kind of, yeah. You looked pretty sad to me, and I knew that you were new here so I decided to see if you needed a friend.¡±

    More than you could possibly have known, I thought.

    He asked me then what had brought me there with Sage, and for the most part I told him the truth, only leaving out the part where I¡¯m a prince. When I told him about how Sage was teaching me to fight, his face lit up with excitement.

    ¡°Really? Wow, our king must have really taken a shine to you.¡±

    ¡°I wish he hadn¡¯t,¡± I said gloomily. ¡°He¡¯s overzealous, and he has to have seen that I have no talent for fighting. I¡¯m more of a scholar than some kind of hero.¡±

    ¡°You might feel that way, but he certainly doesn¡¯t if he still believes in you,¡± Conifer said, confidence permeating his words. He placed a firm hand on my shoulder and I felt at ease. ¡°I see it in you, too.¡±

    I looked up at his grinning face and felt happy to have met him. ¡°Thanks, Conifer. You¡¯re a good friend.¡±

    ¡°As are you,¡± he said. ¡°Now let¡¯s get to bed.¡±

    During this time, I also noticed that when he would play his music in the square, his eyes would often stray to this woman and her daughter who would come see him every day.

    Every day except for one, that is.

    The day they didn¡¯t come, he tuned his lute for a while before getting up suddenly and leaving. I had to jog after him, which was hard after a long day of harvesting.

    ¡°Hey! Wait for a moment!¡± I called, gasping for breath by the time I caught up to him. ¡°Where are you going?¡± I asked. ¡°You didn¡¯t even start to play. I do something wrong?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± he said, as if he didn¡¯t realize I was there until just then. ¡°Sorry about that, I guess I did just get up and leave, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you did,¡± I said, giggling. ¡°Now what¡¯s going on? You okay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah I¡¯m fine,¡± he said. ¡°I just noticed that Parsley and her daughter Rose weren¡¯t there to watch me today, and I figured I¡¯d go check up on them.¡±

    ¡°Oh, okay,¡± I said, still concerned. Everyday a similar crowd showed up, but there were days where one or two people would be missing and those times it seemed like Conifer didn¡¯t even notice.

    We walked down the winding Kiyomi alleys, squeezing past people until we finally made it to a little shack on the north end of town, which was an unfortunate distance for my legs to walk. To my surprise, Conifer didn¡¯t bother knocking. He just started to play a song, one with an exceedingly jaunty melody accompanied by his broad grin.

    ¡°Open the door for me,¡± he whispered to me, and I did.

    Both women were very surprised to see us, but without a second thought let us in and gave a warm reception. Rose had been ill that day so her mother was taking care of her, and they were both disappointed that they couldn¡¯t come visit Conifer that day.

    ¡°Well you know, Rose, they say a good song will strike any illness back,¡± Conifer said, then he belted out in a charismatic performance, which was new for him, or at least new for me; usually he just played his lute without singing.

    I don¡¯t remember the lyrics, but they were silly and made up as he went along, the sort of thing you¡¯d sing to yourself on a quiet day alone to entertain yourself. From anyone else it would be embarrassing, but Conifer made it work and had us all laughing, even comically timing the lute to his words for dramatic effect. At one point, Conifer stopped his crooning to talk to me. I¡¯d been standing in the doorway, unsure of where to go since the place was as small as Conifer¡¯s place, which would mean I¡¯d be sitting next to someone which wasn¡¯t something I wanted to do.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°What are you doing standing there, Mint? Come on in, sit down next to Rose here. She could use your company,¡± he sang the last sentence and winked at me, which got me to blush and made the ladies laugh. Reluctantly, I sulked over to the small spot between Rose and the wall. Her long auburn hair smelled of sweat and wood, and her face was ghostly pale, but her dark eyes were bright and alive. She gave me this look as if she had never seen me before, a glance that padded over me entirely in an instant so as not to cause too much discomfort for myself, but was also long enough to let me know she was interested in me.

    Women were something of a mystery to me at this point in my life. Sure I knew what they were, it¡¯s not as if they were like the creatures on Durian. I¡¯d encountered plenty in the castle back at Persea; many were cooks or servants, a couple had forced their way into the army, and of course my mother and I were very close. But those relationships, outside of the one with my mother, were very surface level and if you can¡¯t tell, involved no interactions with girls my own age.

    When Rose looked at me that way, despite her being sick and obviously not looking her best, I was suddenly very intrigued by this girl I¡¯d seen in the background at every single performance of Conifer¡¯s. We didn¡¯t talk to each other or anything, but we enjoyed his private performance together and the memory has stuck with me for all these years simply because of how she made me feel that day. I was simultaneously uncomfortably nauseous and filled with excitement, a drive to impress this girl who I just met but nowhere near confident enough to actually do anything.

    Parsley left to go use the fire pit in the square to cook some food for us, and when she came back we all feasted on the standard meal during the summer on Mango: semi-charred salmon. Most of the times I ate that, I thought it was serviceable, but something about the salmon I had with them that night was impeccable and I can still taste how both juicy and crispy it was even now, just thinking about it.

    When the sun got too low, Rose and Parsley felt tired and thanked us for coming, Parsley especially. She was very close to Conifer, it seemed, and she gave him a hug before he left that night. When me and him walked back home, in between fantasies of what I should have said or done with Rose, I remembered that all of this was rather random. So I asked Conifer what we were doing there, why we ended up going over when most days we just hung out in the square anyway.

    ¡°I just knew there was a reason for why they weren¡¯t there tonight,¡± he said, simply. ¡°Rose and her mother love my music, and I decided if they were having a rough day I¡¯d go make it brighter.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡± I asked. ¡°It¡¯s not as if you had to do that. Besides, I¡¯m sure the other people who are fans of yours would have enjoyed your songs.¡±

    Conifer ruffled my hair and smirked. ¡°Well, you¡¯re perceptive. I wanted to go over there because I¡¯m especially close to those two.¡±

    Stretching out my arms and yawning at the moon, I asked him why they were so close.

    He just gave me a look I can only describe as bittersweet.

    ¡°Is it because you and Parsley are in love?¡± I asked him. That got him to clam up, and I started laughing.

    ¡°It¡¯s not nice to make accusations like that, Mint,¡± he chided.

    ¡°Yeah, well then tell me what¡¯s going on, Conifer,¡± I said, big smile on my face. ¡°What¡¯s the deal with helping them over the rest? Come on, I told you all about why I¡¯m here, you can trust me. We¡¯re friends.¡±

    He heaved a heavy sigh and tousled his hair. ¡°Do I have to?¡±

    I nodded and crossed my arms at him. ¡°Of course you do.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine.¡± We turned the corner, onto the street where his shack was, and he stared up at the moon. It was nearly full, and very bright that night. He opened his mouth, then before he said anything he laughed and said, ¡°Well, I guess I do love Parsley, you caught me Mint.¡±

    ¡°Why was that so hard to say?¡± I said, pushing him playfully. He just laughed some more, and we made our way back and laid down. Something felt off, though. Maybe it was just paranoia on my part.

    The truth is, everyone I¡¯ve ever been close to has lied to me at one point or another. That¡¯s probably normal for everyone. Doesn¡¯t make it any less disturbing.

    A few days later, while we were out in the fields harvesting peppers, I found myself bothered by something. Conifer caught it, seeing that I was working slower, stopping more and staring off into space. He called for us to take a rest and we sat down beneath a tree not far from where we had left our tools, and he asked if I was alright.

    ¡°The other night you asked me why I ended up here, but I just realized I never asked you why you ended up here. I don¡¯t even know what you were like before you were here.¡±

    Conifer grinned. ¡°Is that all? Well you don¡¯t need to worry about something like that, Mint! We¡¯re friends now, and that¡¯s all that matters. Knowing what someone was like before you knew them shouldn¡¯t affect your relationship with them in the future. People change, and they tend to change based on those around them.¡±

    I nodded, as I did when he began his preaching. ¡°I understand all that, but I still want to know.¡±

    Nodding, he conceded. ¡°I guess you deserve to know, seeing as you told me about yourself.¡± He scratched his head, frowning. ¡°Just don¡¯t think differently of me, okay?¡±

    I agreed I wouldn¡¯t, and then I shut up while he told me about why he left his homeland.

    ¡°I lived on the island of Honeydew,¡± he began. ¡°It¡¯s the island directly south Kiwi. It¡¯s known primarily as the location of the annual fighting tournament held there, where the big countries will enter their prized fighters and auction them up. We also had some small trade going on with Kiwi since we were so close, as well as Almond south of us. We were a fairly neutral territory because of the games, and my life there was ordinary and quiet. It was myself, my wife Nutmeg and my daughter Cinnamon¡ªlittle Cinny¡ªall living there in a little house in the capital city. We lived in poverty, probably eating worse than we do here. I made a living playing music in town, which wasn¡¯t much of a living, and Nutmeg would help me by dancing. Even little Cinny helped when she got older, warbling child songs. I didn¡¯t like the way we lived, but the music is all I knew, and all I know now.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°I should have appreciated the life I had with them more while it was happening, not now when they¡¯re gone.

    ¡°About eight years ago, Honeydew was ransacked by a group of warriors that traveled there on boats from the north. We weren¡¯t ready. Honeydew doesn¡¯t have a proper military, you see. The only warriors ever in that area are usually there for the competition, and when that¡¯s over they leave. Our major trade in Honeydew was weapons and armor. More blacksmiths live in Honeydew than any other country here in Tamarind, even though it is also the smallest country in the whole Tamarind Sea. These people came to gut us of our weapons, and those who didn¡¯t submit paid with their lives.

    ¡°I said we were simple musicians, my family, and that¡¯s true. But these people didn¡¯t realize that, and they tormented us. When I told them I didn¡¯t have anything to give them, the man who was holding me and my family hostage stole my girls away from me.¡±

    Conifer then pulled his tunic up, showing me for the first time a massive scar that went from where his hip met his belly all the way up to just under his collar bone, going from left to right across his chest. It had obviously healed a long time ago, but even so it made my eyes bug out just seeing the thing. If I had seen that the first time I met him, I¡¯d have thought he was a warrior. Most warriors I¡¯ve met, in fact, have scars that pale in comparison to that one.

    ¡°When they stole my girls from me, something broke in me that day. I ran after the man and tried to fight him off, but this is what he left me with. I would probably have died had someone not found me and nursed me back to health. The men were all gone by the time I was able to walk again, and I had no clue what had happened to my girls. It took a lot of asking around, but I found out about the Orange Archipelago being a land for refugees, and I came here and searched for them across all the islands. No one has ever seen or heard of them though.¡±

    By the time he finished, his eyes were glistening and he was rubbing his nose preemptively.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, sheepishly. I wasn¡¯t sure what I could even say to that.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Mint,¡± he said, forcing a grin and a laugh. ¡°Not like you knew my story would be so depressing. Besides, we¡¯re two lads with the same cane, you know? Since we both are missing family due to war and all.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you got left with that thing,¡± I said, pointing at his chest. He just laughed at that.

    ¡°Yeah, well. Parsley seems to like it, so that¡¯s fine. I¡¯ve my health and that¡¯s all that I care about.¡±

    I nodded and headed back to work, thinking everything over all the while. I hadn¡¯t realized until then that there were probably tons of families like that on the Orange islands, blended like that due to war. Parsley obviously had some husband or a lover wherever she was from, but lost him circumstantially in the same way Conifer lost his wife and daughter. It made me wonder if I was some sort of filler, like I was there to help fill the void for his daughter. Then I started wondering if he was there to fill the void for my father, and I had to stop going down that dark corner of thought. Theorizing on all that made my head hurt.

    I did have one question for Conifer later, though.

    ¡°Who was it that attacked your island? Did a country betray you, or was it pirates?¡±

    He just kept working, eyes low to the ground, before finally saying, ¡°I¡¯m not sure. They could still be out there, holding my family hostage.¡±

    I told him I¡¯d help him find his family, but he declined. I think he had given up on them a long time ago, and I couldn¡¯t blame him. The longer I was away from home, the more I figured my mom was a lost cause, dead and gone. Time and distance were devouring them, even taking the memories we had of them.

    It was scary for me. For him, too.

 Chapter Fifteen

    Before I continue, there was one other thing that happened during my two weeks with Conifer that I should write here in this story. It¡¯s not as if it never happened before or since that time, but something about this memory of my mother resonated with me while I was away from Sage and Basil. It feels right to place it here, during my time with him.

    Self reflection became something I did constantly, especially after I learned of Conifer¡¯s¡ªand Sage¡¯s, for that matter¡ªpast, something I still do too much to an unhealthy degree of paranoid, self-inflicted depression. Overthinking is something I need to work on, for sure.

    But anyway, here it goes:

    My mother had some free time one day when I was about nine, and decided to come with me to the garden outside our castle. It was her spot and mine, the place we¡¯d come when we just wanted to get away from everyone except each other, and of course the attendants gardening, but they knew to let us be.

    She wouldn¡¯t look at me, simply choosing to walk forward, expecting me to follow her. She seemed to do that to everyone, choosing instead to appear stoic and beautiful at all times.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard you are doing poorly with your battle studies,¡± she began, sounding more professional than motherly.

    ¡°They pit me against the kids that hate me the most, that are the oldest and most gifted, and then they laugh when I lose,¡± I sulked, and it was the truth. She pressed her palm lightly to the back of my head, sending me forward, nearly tripping.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make excuses,¡± she said, sounding as cold and ruthless as ever. ¡°You must become strong, and prove to them that you are worth serving.¡±

    Rubbing the back of my head, I said, ¡°But I¡¯m not good at this stuff, mother. I¡¯m not even going to have to go into battle, it¡¯s peacetime and I¡¯m a prince. They¡¯ll protect me and I¡¯ll continue my studies here.¡±

    She sped up her step, the stomp of her high heels echoing throughout the garden with enough force to make me wince with each clak-clak she took. When she made it to a bench at the end of the cobblestone walkway, surrounded by pure white chrysanthemums, her favorite flower, she sat down with so much elegance you¡¯d forget she was mad, then she tapped the spot next to her, indicating I should sit there.

    I felt sweat beads on my forehead, and it wasn¡¯t because of the heat.

    ¡°Peppermint Avocado,¡± she said in that motherly way, that disappointed way. ¡°You more than anyone should know how important it is for the leaders of the country to stand tall and proud, out in the open for all to see, to be a role model for the citizens to take after.¡±

    She was talking about father again.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t I just be a scholarly personality though?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been doing very well in my history studies and¡ª¡±

    She cut me off with a slap, her habit, bad or good I couldn¡¯t say. ¡°In your history studies, have you encountered a prince or a king who ruled that wasn¡¯t a warrior or viewed as strong? Even those in peacetime showed their strength in the hunt and their various exploits, which though they were small made waves among the citizens to the point of becoming legendary, such as King Chicane and his fight with a baby dragon some centuries ago.¡±

    ¡°But mother,¡± I said, ¡°That story was a fabrication. He never fought a dragon, dragons aren¡¯t even real.¡±

    She went for my head and I winced instinctively, but instead she softly moved my bangs to the side. ¡°Correct. But my point remains clear; you must be a strong leader. Strong leaders don¡¯t give up, right?¡±

    Sighing, I gave a small nod, ¡°Right.¡±

    Then she grabbed my hands, rubbing the tops of my fingers with her thumbs, and staring down at them brightly she demanded, ¡°Look at me.¡±

    And I did, as our ritual went.

    ¡°You seem to be feeling well today. Is that correct?¡±

    My health had been poor since I had gotten sick when I was about six, back when my dad came to visit and mother sent him on his way. ¡°Yeah, I feel fine today,¡± I said. My eyes strayed for a moment and her grip tightened, a firm reminder to lock eyes with hers.

    ¡°Good. Then today you must use the gift of good health you¡¯ve been bestowed, and practice your fighting and strengthen your body. Does this sound fine to you, my son?¡±

    In my heart, I knew it sounded awful. Pointless, even. My health was better than usual, sure, but it wasn¡¯t like I was suddenly the picture of perfection. Disappointing my mother when she was in one of her moods was the worst thing I could possibly do, though, and I knew that I should at least try for her.

    ¡°Yes, mother,¡± I said, unblinking and lost in those hypnotic green eyes of hers.

    ¡°Good,¡± she said, then proceeded to get up and leave. Before she could, though, I decided I¡¯d ask her something which had been bothering me.

    ¡°Is it really that bad that father is always away?¡± I blurted out.

    My mother¡¯s body went rigid, and her anger became palpable in the air around her. Knowing I had messed up, I tried to backtrack a little.

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, word is that his work in foreign lands has actually helped our image change from being heartless tyrants to a decent country. Maybe his work is unorthodox, but it seems to be¡ª¡±

    She cut me off with a loud slap that actually sent me sprawling backwards, over the bench we sat on, which now was knocked over and on the ground, myself sent hurtling through the bushes, covering myself in a myriad of cuts, scratches and bruises, some of which got itchy very fast from the irritation. She stomped over to where I had fallen, remorseless face studying me.

    ¡°Who told you?¡± she demanded.

    I groaned for a response, falling down to the ground in my attempt to stand up.

    ¡°Son, who has been talking about your father?¡±

    ¡°No one in particular, mother, honest. Everyone seems to know the rumors about father these days,¡± I babbled, rubbing my chin. My fingers were bloody, but only slightly.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s just great,¡± she said, shaking her head at me. ¡°My son, the scholar, believes in rumors.¡±

    Instant regret filled my lungs, and my pallor cheeks were infected with the usual scarlet that accompanied it. My mother stared down at my visible embarrassment with a sick satisfaction, and for a second her pale eyes flickered a vibrant, sinister jade.

    ¡°I have an idea,¡± she sneered, tapping an obscenely long fingernail to her chin. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Those words stopped me from trying to get out of the bushes. I distinctly remember thinking, ¡°Just let me die here, get it over with already.¡± Obviously my wish wasn¡¯t granted.

    ¡°Sumac is close to your age,¡± she purred, walking closer to me so that she could eclipse the sun from my face. ¡°And he¡¯s engaged in warrior training as well. I will arrange for you two to spar together, how¡¯s that sound?¡±

    I don¡¯t think I replied to that. Wouldn¡¯t have mattered anyway. In just a weeks time, I would spar with the prince from Cashew in a neutral location, the border between our countries.

    ???????????????

    The day my pride as a man was slaughtered before it hit puberty was a day that lives in infamy within the heart of myself and perhaps my mother, if she even has a heart. Luck was never on my side¡ªas you may have noticed¡ªand my mother accompanied me on the trek to the border. We made the journey in a carriage with a couple knights to guard us and nothing else. The actual ride surprised me in how short it took, with us reaching the border in only a day and a half. I was never allowed out of the carriage, and my mother made sure that I wouldn¡¯t see anything. For all I know, we could have been riding around in circles the entire time. I was even to sleep in the carriage, the doors and windows shut tight, a prison where all I did was stare at that damned sword of mine. In my posession, it was cursed to lose and I knew it.

    Why would mother do this to me? She had to have known that I was weak. I always complained about it, this wasn¡¯t the first time for me to bring up how poorly I¡¯d been doing in my physical studies. It was all so drastic of her, even her leaving the capital to come with me for this was out of the ordinary. She never left for anything, even meetings with other leaders occurred in our capital only.

    We reached our destination, and the horses clopped to a gradual halt that seemed to last an eternity for me. The men in our carriage were stoic and stared ahead, determination so constant and in their blood that they were always on, even with a job so simple as accompany the weak prince to his grave. I glanced at my mother, and her lips were in full bloom, a smile signaling the excitement would begin soon.

    I stared at my sword, silent prayer wishing it were legendary.

    To be honest, that prayer may have been answered.

    ¡°Put this on,¡± my mother said, tying a blindfold around my eyes. I could feel my blood pulsating with enough force to explode in my neck.

    ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡± I stammered, my sword chattering against my legs.

    I could feel her smile. ¡°It¡¯s for the duel,¡± she declared.

    When I shook more violently, she laughed prettily and our knights chuckled with her. They would make jokes about what they would do in bed with her when she was out of earshot, and hearing them laugh at all made what little pride I had turn my vision red.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fret, child,¡± she cooed. ¡°It¡¯s just for you before you get to the location. Neither of you are to see where you are going.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked.

    She thought for a moment, then said, ¡°It¡¯s an old tradition, most likely to keep things as neutral as possible. Neither of you will know if you are on Cashew or Avocado soil. That sounds correct, doesn¡¯t it boys?¡±

    The two knights nodded, chiming in with, ¡°Of course, ma¡¯am,¡± and ¡°I should think.¡±

    Darkness followed me to my destination, and without vision everything passed in a moment and an eternity simultaneously. Futile attempts at remembering my training only seemed to make me more nervous. The basics were something I knew, but my body was just so weak, I couldn¡¯t do the moves like other boys. The mechanics of a simple stab or slash of the sword made perfect sense to me, both then and now. A punch and a kick are nearly second nature. I know to keep my movements compact, hard to read, and snappy so as to follow up with more offense or defense according to the situation. It was all so simple. It made the impossibility of my body to react, the slowness of my fists, the weakness of my arms, the wobbliness of my knees, the quickness of my faints, all of it was so much more frustrating than it should have been. My own body prevented me from being who I wanted to be, who I desperately had to be for the sake of my survivability in the environment I was placed in.

    I wondered silently if my life would have been easier as a commoner. A simple farmer, a healer, even a petty thief. Anything could have been easier than being a prince.

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± my mother said, gently undoing my blindfold. She held it the moment before it was completely gone, a hesitation I wasn¡¯t expecting. ¡°Are you ready, Mint?¡±

    I gulped. No saliva. I nodded.

    She removed the blindfold completely, and the sun shone brightly through the windows of what appeared to be an abandoned building. The roof was filled with holes, and the walls appeared to be growing moss and vines. Where once there was a floor made from wooden mats, there was now dirt and grass, even a few flowers growing here and there.

    Across from me stood a boy at least a half hand taller than myself, with chartreuse hair and garish, mauve eyes. He held a blade that tossed light around in a brilliant spectrum when it caught the sunlight just right. To my surprise, he didn¡¯t appear to be adjusting to his eyesight. He must have been standing there for a long time already, or as I suspect now, he never had a blindfold. His entire dress was purple, appearing all too royal for a duel.

    Waving a hand at me, he called out, ¡°Hello there! You must be Prince Peppermint.¡± Bowing with with such grandiosity it conflicted with the abysmal house, he introduced himself. ¡°My name is Prince Sumac de Candolle Cashew, but Sumac will do just fine.¡±

    My knees chattered below me while my mother elbowed the small of my back and whispered through grit teeth, ¡°Bow, it¡¯s courtesy.¡±

    So I did, nearly dropping my blade.

    It then occurred to me that we would be fighting with steel, and I nearly vomited. The bitter taste of nausea stayed with me the remainder of my time conscious.

    Gripping the hilt of my blade with enough ferocity to create blisters, I breathed deeply and held the blade pointed outward, toward my opponent in hopes that he may be too frightened to come near me.

    I must not have struck him as fearsome.

    The moment some omnipresent voice yelled, ¡°Begin!¡± Sumac leapt at me gracefully, sidestepping my blade and pushing it aside with his unarmored palm. A surprising thing happened in that short, split second moment between him hitting me with his blade and him pushing my blade aside so easily.

    I realized that I had seen all of it and had time to react to it.

    So why didn¡¯t I? Why was my body so heavy? Was it fear, or something else?

    I had no time to figure out what it was before I passed out. Maybe that moment lasted forever because of the pain.

    Rain was smacking our carriage when I woke up. The moment I caught my mother¡¯s distant glance, that sideward disdain, that permanent disgust on her slim upper lip, I wanted desperately to return to a state of nonexistence. Unfortunately, mother was perceptive and she caught my eyes. Unexpectedly, she actually smiled at me.

    ¡°You lost soundly,¡± she whispered.

    The rain stopped, then started again as if we had gone under something. I shut my eyes and tried to ignore everything, unsure of what to do. The embarrassment of the whole thing was too much for me to bare.

    ¡°That was the best you could do, though, wasn¡¯t it?¡± she tittered. I felt my face burning up and I had to sit up to feel more comfortable.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, my son,¡± she cooed. I couldn¡¯t tell if she was attempting to comfort me or actually found this amusing. I suppose she could have been doing both, but knowing what I know of her I doubt it. ¡°I think we¡¯ve done all we could. Your body probably just needs rest. We never really had you take a break after you got sick, did we?¡±

    I nodded cautiously. ¡°No, we didn¡¯t. But why am I alive? Didn¡¯t Sumac cut me down?¡±

    My mother and the guards all chuckled at that. The one guard actually slapped his knee, which was more emotion than either of them had shown the whole trip.

    ¡°Come now, dear,¡± my mother giggled. ¡°Did you really think we¡¯d give you both metal weapons? He was using a practice weapon. Feel your forehead and you¡¯ll see what happened.¡±

    I did, and immediately cried from the pain of touching the enormous lump right above my eyebrow.

    ¡°So our weapons were practice then?¡± I asked, grabbing for the sword I had been given.

    She shrugged though. ¡°No, just his. Yours was real.¡±

    Before I could ask, my mother saw my reaction and just ruffled my hair, hurting my forehead in the process. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, dear. It was just for fun. We wanted to see if you could actually use a real sword.¡±

    It didn¡¯t feel right though. I stared down blankly at that blade, wondering if my mother had planned to have me kill Sumac.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look so serious,¡± she teased. ¡°Be glad you can get some rest a while, my son. You won¡¯t have to fight until you¡¯re at least fourteen or fifteen.¡±

    That perked me up. ¡°Really?¡± I asked, excited. She nodded, and the rest of the trip was peaceful, the raindrops tapping idly, my heartbeat easing me into peaceful sleep.

    The thought of her attempted murder never truly left me, though. There was no way that wasn¡¯t the forefront of her plan in having me use a sword of steel.

 Chapter Sixteen

    Fourteen days had passed since Sage had left me alone on Mango to fend for myself. The days of harvesting peppers and listening to Conifer¡¯s music had started as a series of awkward, mostly solitary events involving too much time in my own head and a lot of starving, sleeping, and sighing. Despite my initial indifference, however, those days quickly turned into a quiet, enjoyable life, and the time I spent with Conifer in the company of Rose and Parsley were especially fun. Without these days, I fear my ability to socialize might never have gotten any better.

    On the fourteenth night of Sage being gone, Conifer and I were walking home from another session for Rose who was almost completely healed, and Parsley who had unfortunately gotten sick while watching her daughter. The moon was half full and reddish, and Conifer decided we should climb onto our roof and stargaze. With the sky as bright and beautiful as it was and my sprightly, youthful energy keeping me from sleep, I was on the roof before Conifer was.

    Conifer played his lute, comfortably slipping into hypnotic rhythms that droned lightly in our ears, keeping us silent and focused on the sky above and the thoughts in our head. I distinctly remember thinking of how nice Rose had smelled that evening, when Conifer decided to interrupt me.

    ¡°Will it always be like this?¡± he asked, just barely audible above his instrument.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I yawned, finding the night air a tonic for my restlessness.

    ¡°I mean will we be separated soon,¡± Conifer muttered, his face a contortion of emotions.

    It was strange to me that he would ask this, since he wasn¡¯t my family and was so much older than myself, old enough to be my father or uncle. He cared, though, and was getting comfortable with this new life living with me in the same way I had gotten comfortable with him. My nose started to tickle and run with the oncoming sadness, premature though it was.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we will,¡± I said. ¡°At this point, I doubt Sage is going to come back for me anymore. He¡¯s been gone so long, I may as well get used to my life here.¡±

    Smirking, Conifer said, ¡°You shouldn¡¯t give up on him. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll return for you.¡±

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡±

    Switching over to a lower octave, Conifer sighed and said, ¡°Well, maybe it¡¯s just me projecting my own moral compass onto your situation. But if I left a kid alone on some island without anyone to look after him, I¡¯d try and get back as soon as I could. That¡¯s just personal responsibility.¡±

    Plus I was a prince, I thought. He¡¯s probably right.

    ¡°Well, even so. If they return and take me away, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be okay with bringing you along. We can find your family, I¡¯m sure of it.¡±

    He kept plucking away at his instrument, and we stared at the stars without speaking a while. I could tell he was uncomfortable, and I wanted to say something, but I couldn¡¯t think of the words. Neither could he, and he just kept playing that low rhythm, that working song that made my head keep going even if it didn¡¯t want to.

    ¡°We should get to bed,¡± I eventually yawned.

    Conifer nodded, but he kept playing and I didn¡¯t get up.

    After a moment, he repeated, ¡°Let¡¯s get to bed.¡±

    I nodded, but didn¡¯t get up and he kept playing so we just laid there, staring up at the sky. We were too tired to get up and sleep, and the night was enough to keep us out there.

    Smoke broke us from our spell, and I jolted up from my near-slumber with enough speed to almost send me rolling off the roof. Conifer got up more slowly, reluctant to cease playing even with the possible danger on the horizon.

    ¡°Where¡¯s that coming from?¡± I asked, looking around to see if there were flames anywhere, or at least visible smoke. It didn¡¯t take long, as suddenly a loud thunk was heard right in front of us and the houses two rows ahead of us were engulfed in flames. People started screaming, and I felt my heart physically wake me up, the primal urge to survive more powerful than drowsiness.

    Before I could even process anything, Conifer had grabbed me and hopped off the roof, pulling me by my limp wrist down the now populous alleys, the rumble of distant battle echoing in the air like a throbbing cancer in my ear. The skies were now filled with smoke, and everyone we passed was in the process of coughing or choking, myself and Conifer included. I couldn¡¯t get a clear look at anything, and when I finally became used to the commotion it clicked in my head where we were going.

    We made a sharp turn that nearly whipped me into someone fleeing in the opposite direction. I coughed out, ¡°Conifer, we can¡¯t waste time trying to see if they¡¯re okay. We need to get out of here.¡±

    He paid no attention to me though, holding me tighter and digging his nails into my wrists, not out of malice but fear. It was plain on his face, in his movement, in the cadence of his breath. So then why was he running into danger?

    Another turn and we stopped, Conifer now presented with the reality of the decision he was making. People were being cut down left and right by men who were probably pirates but appeared as shades, dark shadows overcast by tall flames reaching up to the stars. I tried getting loose from his grip, and if I had the energy to spare I¡¯d have screamed, but the screams of others turned into loud coughing pretty quickly, and wails of death even quicker, so it was better for me to quietly try and rip my wrist from his nails. Blood began trickling, and I felt my pulse pounding into the wound like a hammer. His hands had grown sweaty from running and the flames, and in that moment I was able to get free. I backed away slowly, not sure what to do now that he wasn¡¯t holding me. Conifer didn¡¯t give me a chance to choose.

    Whipping around towards me, his visage was an obvious mask to hide the fear, but a brave face nonetheless. He grabbed my shoulders and kneeled down in front of me, our eyes locked together. His were dark from the flames behind him.

    ¡°I know this doesn¡¯t seem smart,¡± he said to me, eyes watering from the smoke. ¡°Just let me do this. I have to do this. You can leave if you must, but I¡¯ve¡ª¡± An arrow thunked into a home ten steps away and started a fire instantly, cutting him short a moment. But he went back to it after we retreated a few steps. ¡°I¡¯ve just got to try, okay?¡±

    Then he was off, jogging into danger with absolutely nothing.

    Gulping down soot, I spun around like a fool, looking towards Conifer, then back to the fleeing citizens, to the shadowy death cast down on my pleasant dreams. I turned backwards, to run with everyone else around me. And I did run, for at least ten seconds I ran with everyone. And if my conscience didn¡¯t exist, if I hadn¡¯t turned back around before turning that corner, I know I would have kept going and stayed out of danger. My life may have turned out differently. Maybe not better, maybe not worse, but certainly different.Stolen novel; please report.

    Glancing back before turning the corner, I saw from the corner of my eye that Conifer had engaged in a standoff with a pirate so large he could have been two Conifers, maybe more. I tried forcing my legs forward, tried to keep pace with the rest of the scared people. The sight of him alone, in danger, was too unbearable for me to handle. A tear trickled down my cheek, I wiped it away with a silent curse, then turned around and scanned my surroundings.

    I had no weapons, didn¡¯t know magic, and had no back up outside of Conifer who also was unarmed and undangerous. On the plus side, it appeared as if there were only five or six men doing any attacking, and they weren¡¯t bothering with runners, at least on that street. This meant I had a chance to figure out a plan of action, then try and save Conifer or at least help him out.

    On the ground was a bunch of debris, some of which was on fire, and my poor decision was made.

    After settling on something I hoped resembled a wooden sword but was more accurately a stick, I stalked toward where Conifer stood, his fists balled and raised in such an unpracticed way that I could feel trouble brewing immediately. They were on the corner where the street would turn into the square, where I had met Conifer weeks prior. I attempted to stay hidden, despite the vast majority of people being gone now, with only a few stragglers here and there running away.

    I stopped short, standing close to a building that wasn¡¯t burning just yet so that there was a shorter line of sight from me to the man Conifer faced. It was bad for both of us, but staying hidden felt like a bigger priority in that moment. I breathed slowly and deeply, trying not to take too much smoke in while also staying as calm as possible.

    ¡°I¡¯ve no business with you,¡± Conifer said, a small yet detectable shake to his voice. His stance was stiff, a rigidity that signalled he would defend himself if he had to but had no clue how to do so.

    The man he faced replied with confidence, and said, ¡°For the last time, you will not get through here without facing me. They¡¯re busy searching for someone right now. Get running away like a good boy, before you get yourself hurt.¡±

    I could see the anger in Conifer, and I knew a lever had been pulled in his head that would make him try and hit that man. There was no way he knew how to throw a punch or grapple or anything, and I knew I saw the glint of a weapon in the distance when I came toward him earlier. So I made my move then.

    Prowling forward on tentative steps, I stuck the stick I held into a fire and leapt out the moment I had my faux-torch lit.

    My legs had gotten stronger, but my movements were still slow as they¡¯d always been. This didn¡¯t matter, though, because I surprised everyone with that long jump from around the corner. Not because of my athleticism, or my bravery.

    It had everything to do with the fact that the stick I held was not a torch, and was completely engulfed in flames, burning my palm every unbearable second.

    ¡°Bastard!¡± was all I could think to yell, a feeble attempt to boost my morale about this moment that would most likely get me killed.

    Both men reacted, Conifer stepping backward and the man standing before him running toward me. This was the worst thing he could have done, because my aim was terrible from far away.

    After he took that first stride forward, I tossed the stick like a boomerang and rolled on the ground out of the way, blowing on my scarlet right hand. It wasn¡¯t on fire, but it hurt like hell all the same.

    The man wasn¡¯t so lucky. Being incredibly flammable, he was engulfed like a candle the moment the stick had bounced off of him and hit the ground. He screamed, shrill and agonising before slamming into a home and hitting the wall inside, setting the building on fire and causing the little shack to collapse on him, his own funeral pyre.

    Blinking at the situation, I started coughing from the strain and the smoke in the air and was helped up by Conifer, who kindly took my unburned hand first. He stared down at my red hand and looked ready to cry, but he shook his head instead and just said, ¡°That was foolish of you. You should have ran away.¡±

    ¡°You needed help,¡± I insisted, coughing louder. ¡°Let¡¯s find Rose and Parsley and get the fuck out of here.¡±

    ¡°Watch your language,¡± he snapped, smacking my head lightly, smiling.

    ¡°Fine, old man,¡± I coughed out, and we made our way into the square as quietly as possible in that maze of flames.

    The square was empty, save for the fire and the men standing guard at all four of the remaining streets leading to and from the square. We saw two pairs of men leaving and entering homes, and I noticed that the fires were all on the side we were coming from. They were trying to smoke their target out, burning what they left behind.

    Gritting my teeth, I searched Conifer¡¯s blank face and asked, ¡°You have a plan?¡±

    He just shrugged. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll just have to run in there and save them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a terrible¡ª¡± I began, then I yelled, ¡°Conifer!¡± as he ran off without me, into the square and toward the street that Rose and Parsley lived on.

    He wasn¡¯t particularly fast, and even if he was we just got finished with a hard day, so it was pure luck that he was able to dart passed the guard on her street so simply. The guard saw him go by and yelled for some back up while he chased after Conifer. I looked around quickly to see if there was anything that could help me out in this situation like before, though using something for fire was out of the question after burning my hand.

    It was slim pickings for debris, but I noticed there was a pretty large piece of siding from a home on the ground, not on fire and still small enough for me to grab. The size and shape were comparable to a shield made by a small child for a giant, but I could still drag it around with me while I chased the guards chasing Conifer. I started to chase after them when I had a better thought. Finding a spot around the corner, I used the makeshift shield to dig a hole as wide as an entryway and a step deep. Once that was done, I stabbed the shield into the ground on the opposite end of the corner and jogged to where the guards were, which wasn¡¯t too far. They were looking in the buildings all along the street.

    ¡°Hey, you limp-wristed bastards!¡± I shouted, hands around my mouth to help carry my cracking pubescent voice. Three men appeared from the buildings, quizzical and cautious.

    ¡°Yeah, you!¡± I continued. ¡°Come and get me! I know where your guy is!¡±

    I was hoping this would get them to come after me instead of Conifer, and it worked better than I expected. They moved so fast I felt like I wasn¡¯t going to make it back in time, but I turned the corner and leapt over the hole just at the final second. The three guards all turned on that corner without looking at their feet, and all three toppled onto each other in a heap.

    Initially I wanted to burn them like the first one, but there wasn¡¯t enough fire in that area for me to pull that off and I had to get to Conifer fast. So I grabbed the makeshift shield and, holding it flat side down, I threw it onto them before they could get up and body slammed into it with as much force as my small body could muster. It was messy and they were struggling to get up almost immediately, but they were too tangled from falling the way they had. My eyes darted around like mad, searching for something to use. A hilt was poking out from the side, belonging to one of the men. They weren¡¯t holding it and they couldn¡¯t grab it, so I stood on top of the shield and pulled out a sword. It was much bigger than I wanted, and was heavy and cumbersome to the point where I almost toppled backward, losing balance. I needed to act fast, and I couldn¡¯t think about what I needed to do.

    It was easier with them hidden under the shield like that. I didn¡¯t need to see them when I stabbed directly below me, letting the sword drop so effortlessly through all three of them.

    Their squirming and the gurgling sounds nearly made me puke, and I needed to take a moment to breathe. The smoke wasn¡¯t helping, though, so my deep breaths resulted in me vomiting all over the debris and their corpses. If I had time, I might have prayed forgiveness.

    Jogging in a vomit induced stupor, I found myself outside of Rose and Parsley¡¯s home. Voices could be heard from inside, and I recognized Conifer so I ran in fast, slamming my face into a mass of muscle.

    Loathe to look up, I stood frozen for a second.

    The mass turned, and I stared up into the cold, unfeeling eyes of a man who was no longer a man, who hadn¡¯t been a man for a long time.

    Pursing his scarred lips, he nodded inward and said, ¡°Sit down and shut up.¡± I obliged, and found myself in a circle with Conifer, Parsley, and Rose, all round up like pigs for slaughter.

    All I could think in that moment was that I should have just let Conifer go on his own.

    I¡¯m not proud of that.

 Chapter Seventeen

    Flames crackled loudly in the silence that we endured in that shack, while the man who held us captive stood in the doorway with his arms crossed as if he were a locked door, and he may as well have been; his size alone would make anyone stop, let alone the scars along every piece of exposed skin, his arms having lines of scars ranging from deep to very deep, his face unrecognizable from the day he was born, his full black beard doing a poor job of hiding the lines on his rough visage, the beard even making his lips look as if they were a thick, red scar beneath his nose. He tapped the ax he held¡ªwhich had to weigh as much as the home we were in¡ªagainst the door siding in a bored rhythm as he analyzed us. There was no way he was sizing us up; none of us looked worth a damn, and certainly none of us were ready to die. Still, his dark eyes were thoughtful, intelligent.

    Rose shuffled next to me, absolutely anxious. I placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered, ¡°Are you alright? He didn¡¯t do anything to you guys, did he?¡±

    She shook her head but didn¡¯t answer.

    Parsley was next to Conifer, breathing heavily from the stress and her sickness. None of this could be good for her health. Conifer had a look of desperation in his face, and I could see his mind working out every possible way he could get this guy to leave so we could escape with the girls.

    I just wanted to know why the big man hadn¡¯t done anything. He had us cornered, and there wasn¡¯t exactly a lot to sift through in this town, nor this home. Kiyomi was a shanty town of bell peppers, not a city of wealth. An island of farmers, not warriors.

    He locked eyes with me, and he stopped. I froze. My thoughts moved with lightning quickness, and everything made sense.

    They were here for me.

    He licked his lips and smiled, his teeth bright from the shadow cast by the flames outside. I felt myself shaking, and Rose pulled me tighter.

    ¡°I see three mice,¡± the man drawled, his voice such a full baritone it shook the home more than the destruction outside. He counted with his index finger one, two, three. Then he pointed at me. ¡°And one doe-eyed fawn.¡±

    Gulping, I tried to get up but Rose had me pressed against her with more strength than I knew she had. Remaining on the ground, I asked, ¡°What do you want with me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not what I want from you,¡± he said, his smile turning hungry. ¡°To me personally, you¡¯re nothing. It¡¯s what I gain from returning you home that has brought me here.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t take him!¡± Conifer shouted, his voice breaking. ¡°He¡¯s just a kid, you bastard! He needs to be here, with his family.¡±

    Conifer was trying to keep me here with what he had hoped was savvy misdirection. He had no clue that I was a prince, and if he kept pushing it, I¡¯d be indirectly responsible for his life being stolen.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand,¡± the large man said, sauntering in towards us. Our group collectively backed up, our bodies pressed so tightly against the wall I¡¯m surprised the home didn¡¯t collapse backwards. ¡°I¡¯m not here to take young Peppermint from his family. I¡¯m here to return him to his home.¡±

    Everyone tensed up when he said my name. Everyone but me.

    ¡°That is your name, is it not?¡± he chuckled, cocking a knowing eyebrow. His information was good, but it didn¡¯t need to be. In all the time I had been in Kiyomi, I had seen only a handful of people with green hair. None of them were around my age.

    ¡°Well? Is it?¡± he asked again, choosing to rest his axe blade in front of me for effect instead of raising his voice.

    I nodded, mumbling, ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± he smirked, leaning his massive body down so that we were face to face. Being so close to him made his size so apparent that it felt more like being in the presence of a predator. ¡°Well, why don¡¯t you come along with me then? I¡¯m sure you realize what will happen if you don¡¯t.¡±

    I knew. But even if I wanted to leave, Rose was holding me so tightly and my legs were shaking so badly that I¡¯d need to be carried out of there if he wanted me. Telling him that wasn¡¯t easy, though, so instead I just stared at him blankly, unsure of what to do and intensely trying not to cry in front of everyone.

    After a time of no movement on my part, the large man sighed and hoisted me onto his shoulder like game he¡¯d hunted, yanking poor Rose¡¯s little hands off of me and tossing her to the ground as gently as a man his size can do. My body went limp, and I accepted my fate as it was, ready to be taken off to my death at the hands of Cashew, when Conifer exploded from his sitting position and launched a flurry of ill-aimed, poorly executed punches that couldn¡¯t have hurt me, let alone the moving mountain I was draped over.

    ¡°Let¡ªMint¡ªgo!¡± he screeched with a voice so broken it barely resembled the dulcet tones of his singing.

    The big man didn¡¯t even flinch, he just kept trudging forward despite Conifer¡¯s strikes. Just as we were about to exit the doorway and get out of there, Conifer leapt onto his back and tried choking his tree trunk of a neck. I didn¡¯t want him to do any of this. I just wanted to submit to this, these unavoidable consequences. There was physically no way for any of us to get out of this situation.

    So why was he trying so hard?

    In an instant, the man launched Conifer into the back wall of the house, breaking through the slim timber and sending debris splintering everywhere, Rose and Parsley balling themselves up to shield their faces from it all. The man chuckled heartily, shaking me on his shoulder.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got moxie,¡± he said to Conifer, who was bent over and coughing onto the floor, favoring his right side heavily. ¡°Perhaps if strength were measured in spirit, you might be able to send me away. Unfortunately for you,¡± he lamented, almost serious as he pointed his axe at Conifer, ¡°Strength is measured in a more physical fashion.¡±

    ¡°Just stop,¡± I groaned from my position on his shoulder, too weak and unwilling to look Conifer in the eye as I said so.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me,¡± Conifer said, coughing up enough blood to cause worry. ¡°I¡¯m going to save us all, and we¡¯ll have our lives back.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not worth it!¡± I cried, digging my hands into the man¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°He¡¯s right, you know,¡± he agreed. ¡°There is little point in you sacrificing yourself for all of this. You¡¯d be better off joining us as allies than facing me as an enemy.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Ally?¡± Conifer whispered, a blood-soaked grin on his face. ¡°You¡¯re more foolish than you look, you oafish bastard.¡±

    The man didn¡¯t say anything, just took a step forward and sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you one last warning,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d prefer not murdering you in front of these two women.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that faux-chivalrous poison,¡± Conifer said, then grabbed the man¡¯s axe handle with both hands.

    ¡°Let go¡ª!¡± the man swung his weapon back and forth, trying to remove Conifer forcibly but unsuccessfully.

    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± I asked Conifer. ¡°Just let go and let me leave peacefully!¡±

    Still hanging on for dear life, Conifer glared at me with enough dudgeon to make everyone and everything stop for a moment and stare in awe at this man. ¡°Are you so willing to give what we had up?¡± he bellowed, voice giving out here and there. ¡°I refuse to let this happen again.¡±

    Then, switching to the man, who still waved his axe, ¡°I can¡¯t let you hurt people!¡±

    And with a yank that probably took all that he had, he removed the axe from the man''s grip and sent it through the wall next to where he had landed moments prior.

    His breath was ragged, but Conifer wasn¡¯t finished. He ran at the man and leapt through the air, winding a small fist up behind him tight enough to draw blood in his calloused palm. For a moment, I thought Conifer might actually do it. He might actually knock this behemoth of a man out.

    Instead, well, I witnessed a hero fall.

    The man turned his body so that the shoulder I was hoisted over was facing away from Conifer, and I remember feeling him press my body down tighter with his free hand so I couldn¡¯t get away. Then, twisting his entire body, he spun a kick into Conifer¡¯s torso with enough force that I almost didn¡¯t hear his ribs breaking. Conifer¡¯s body went limp almost immediately, and he sprawled out in the street behind the home. Rose and Parsley cried silently, too frightened to make any noise.

    ¡°I warned you,¡± the man said, retrieving his axe from where it had fallen. ¡°You leave me little choice. Forgive me for killing you this way, it isn¡¯t in my nature to be so violent.¡±

    He loosened his grip on me and kept walking down the street, no reason to return to their home. He stepped over Conifer¡¯s body, and that¡¯s when I got a good look at him.

    His body was torn up. It wasn¡¯t completely broken, but it may as well have been. Where there was skin, there were cuts and bruises, his blood on display like an exhibit, his hair stringy and mussed, his limbs still quivering from all they¡¯d been through. Until that point, I was resigned to my new life as a prisoner, almost at peace really. I was content with where I was at.

    That wasn¡¯t the case when I saw him, though.

    Something broke in me in that moment, a dam fractured, shattered under the pressure of whatever was in me. It was like someone lit me up, and in a few seconds my fuse would dwindle and I¡¯d explode.

    And it¡¯d feel good.

    My mouth opened, I might have screamed. Lifting my arm, I slammed it down onto his shoulder and watched as his body pulsed into the ground, cratering deeper and deeper until the houses to our left and right tilted inward. There was a searing in my eyes, a thrumming in my knuckles, but I grit my teeth and bared it. Falling from my new position, now airborne, I flipped in the air like a windmill and sent my foot into his chest, deepening the crater further and squeezing the blood from his stomach like the last bit of water in the flask. His shriek of agony was melodious, and I wanted to keep hitting him until he was absolutely broken, but when I hit him the next time my fist bruised and hurt like hell, my weakness returning and my speed slowing back down to a familiar, delayed crawl.

    Despite my desires not being fulfilled, he was down and out for good, and I was safe to get up and check on Conifer. My body was throbbing, and it felt like I may have sprained my ankle or tore something in my leg with that kick, but my head wasn¡¯t letting me feel the full extent of my pain just yet.

    ¡°Get up,¡± I breathed, collapsing on top of his body. He was breathing, which was a relief, but we weren¡¯t back to shore just yet and I knew I couldn¡¯t lift him. Plus Parsley wasn¡¯t feeling great and would need to be carried if we got her out.

    ¡°Quit being so selfish, you stupid old man,¡± I groaned, attempting to get up and shake him. Instead I just fell back down, my face in his chest.

    ¡°Would you get off my ribs?¡± he coughed, voice sounding very far away.

    ¡°If you can say shit like that, then you should be okay, old man,¡± I said between heavy breaths, laughing lightly.

    ¡°What¡¯d I say about the language?¡± he laughed painfully, trying to get up.

    On my feet, I tried to pull him up and help but nearly ended up back on the ground. My body was throbbing constantly, as if my pulse were radiating heat off of my body and into the air, rising away from me and into invisible clouds above me. It was uncomfortable, and my body wasn¡¯t built to handle that sort of output. The energy used was obviously from Vastmire, which gave me some hope that I could use it like Sage, that my training wasn¡¯t all so I could hit someone sort of hard and kind of fast. If I wasn¡¯t in a life threatening situation, I may have felt a lot happier about my newfound talent.

    At what cost, though? If each strike felt like I was ending my life with the power of the planet between my knuckles, I wouldn¡¯t survive long enough to use it. How the hell was Sage able to withstand this?

    Conifer leaned on me, and we began trudging our way back toward Rose and Parsley, who were poking their heads tentatively out of the hole in their home, when he whispered to me, ¡°So, you¡¯re a prince?¡±

    In all the commotion, I¡¯d almost forgotten he heard that. I nodded, too tired and unwilling to talk.

    He laughed weakly. ¡°I suppose you are rather handsome like one ought to be. I should have guessed.¡±

    ¡°Because of my looks?¡± I scoffed. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a bit stereotypical?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t finish,¡± he said, his breathing staggered and heavy. I adjusted him so that he sat better on my shoulder, and he continued, ¡°I meant the rumors. People had been talking about the young boy our king brought back from his trip. And there were talks of some sort of invasion happening in Avocado. If I had thought for even a moment¡ª!¡± He was cut off by a fit of coughing, scarlet droplets of blood spattering the ground.

    ¡°We have to get you fixed up,¡± I said, trying to move faster despite his injuries.

    We were still twenty steps away from the shack when two warriors popped out from around the corner, the ones that were guarding the main circle in Kiyomi. Backing away, I glanced behind me. One more was closing in slowly on me, but that wasn¡¯t what made me gasp.

    The man I¡¯d knocked into the ground with a strike that nearly demolished the surrounding homes was standing up, grinning with a wolfish smile bordering on demonic, accentuated more by the flames in the background.

    ¡°Shit,¡± I cursed, panicking and turning in a circle in a feeble search for an escape route.

    ¡°Just put me down,¡± Conifer whispered. He sounded far away, which wasn¡¯t good. ¡°You can escape if you leave me.¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t think I could even if I got rid of you.¡± My eyes met the large man¡¯s, and his grin grew wider, saliva and blood glistening from the fire light. ¡°He doesn¡¯t look like he wants me as a prisoner anymore.¡±

    In the time we spent speaking, the man had closed in on us. He cracked his massive knuckles and said, ¡°I haven¡¯t been hit that hard in years. Let¡¯s see if you can do that again now that I¡¯m ready.¡±

    Humoring the thought, I balled my free hand into a fist. The moment my fingernails met my palm, a sharp pain shot through my arm and made me immediately open my fist, my arm going numb and prickly.

    He didn¡¯t notice the pain on my face, however, and kept coming toward me. He was so focused on me that he didn¡¯t notice the massive shadow that hung over us, growing bigger, darker, bigger, darker, then slamming us all into the ground with a splash. An enormous amount of water swept over everyone there, hitting all that was in Kiyomi like a tsunami.

    No one saw it coming. I felt my lungs fill with water, and saw everyone floating away from me, including Conifer, whose face was filled with surprise as much as fear, the instinct to run and survive hitting us all like a tidal wave.

    The water subsided rather fast, and steam billowed into the sky, creating a massive fog and clouds. Fish were flopping all over the ground everywhere, and all of us were choking, sputtering on the ground, coughing up water¡ªblood in the case of Conifer.

    Only two men stood on that street, and when I saw them I nearly teared up.

 Chapter Eighteen

    Basil and Sage stood there, stoic and statuesque in that haze, surveying the situation with calculating eyes. When Sage saw me, knocked against a home and slumped on the ground next to a worse off Conifer, a smile appeared for a moment on his face before he was back to business, unable to enjoy the fact that I was alive and well.

    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late, boy. Got hung up trying to grab this ass out of another scrape, isn¡¯t that right Basil?¡±

    The man next to him barely resembled the Basil I had met back at Sage¡¯s home two months prior. He had a full, deep green beard and long, stringy hair that was too unkempt to resemble the cleanness his hair had before. A scar ran down the side of his left cheek, still fresh and bruised red enough to be visible in the haze. He wore a long black cloak lined in fur, concealing much of his body in a shroud.

    I didn¡¯t hear Basil say anything, just saw Sage shrug and move forward, toward the large scarred man, who was on his feet but still recovering from the wave that slammed the town.

    Coughing, the man asked, ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°I am the king of these islands,¡± Sage declared, taking on a persona more regal than I¡¯d heard from him before. ¡°What business do you have here, burning down my city in my absence? If you¡¯ve a grievance, take it up with my denial department.¡±

    ¡°Denial department?¡± the man asked, now standing up straight. He was a full head taller than Sage.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sage said, nodding toward Basil. ¡°He¡¯s not good at much outside of telling idiots like you, ¡®No,¡¯ and sending them on their way. Isn¡¯t that right, Basil?¡±

    He gave no reply, or even a sense of movement.

    ¡°See what I mean?¡± Sage sniggered. ¡°He¡¯d even deny his old pal the chance to hear his lovely voice. A man that insane is not to be messed with.¡±

    ¡°Is this your idea of a threat, green man?¡± the scarred man asked, arms folded.

    ¡°It was his idea actually,¡± he replied. ¡°My idea was to skip the diplomacy and kick your ass out of here myself.¡±

    The man took a step forward and got into Sage¡¯s face like he was ready to start a barroom brawl. ¡°You don¡¯t sound much like a king.¡±

    ¡°And you don¡¯t much look like a man, beating on the defenseless citizens of my home,¡± Sage growled. ¡°You know better.¡±

    For a second, they glared at each other, a staredown in utter silence, neither willing to give in even a little, their eyes unblinking.

    Then they were interrupted by one of the men leaping over to attack Sage, screeching the whole way in a battle cry that resembled a bat more than a man. Sage never turned to even look at him, or move at all. In fact it didn¡¯t seem to me that anyone attacked the screeching man, yet he fell to the ground in a heap a few steps before reaching Sage, a hole in his head like something had smashed through it. I looked around, trying to figure out what happened, but saw no one and nothing that could have done anything. Conifer was too tired and beat up to notice it had happened, and the other guy saw that his comrade was hurt and decided it was time to pipe down and leave.

    Sage licked his lips and smiled. ¡°You should get going now, before you¡¯re late in more ways than one.¡±

    The scarred man smirked and nodded, turned to leave. ¡°Fine. Maybe we can spar next time I see you, then.¡±

    Nodding, Sage sighed and said, ¡°Maybe, Bitter. If we live long enough.¡±

    Then, the man Sage called Bitter gathered his men and left more silent than he¡¯d come.

    Once Bitter had left from sight, Sage came over to me and felt my limbs to check if they were hurt. He didn¡¯t speak during this time, just looked me over like a doctor. When he got to my hands, he gasped and grabbed my right one tighter.

    ¡°Did you fight?¡± he asked, somber.

    ¡°I had to,¡± I grunted, repositioning myself so my back was against the wall. ¡°Everyone was in danger, and you were gone.¡±

    Sage shook his head and rolled up my sleeve and pulled back my cloak, revealing the skin on my arm. ¡°You didn¡¯t use any weapons at all? Why? It¡¯s dangerous to fight defenseless.¡±

    I winced from his touch; the whole limb was tender, more so than I had realized. My head was pounding with this idle ache, a throb that only revealed itself the moment I forgot about it.

    ¡°I made due with what I had,¡± I breathed, finding it difficult to speak.

    He didn¡¯t pay attention, though. Instead, he pulled my shirt up, revealing my stomach.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry I wasn¡¯t hur¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hush,¡± he cut me off. ¡°Let me grab your hands and look into my eyes.¡±

    Frowning, I went along with it. In a few seconds, our eyes were locked and our hands were together like they¡¯d been so many times with my mother and Arsene.

    This time, however, Sage¡¯s eyes grew wide with fear. And in my peripheral, I saw Conifer move when he gasped, coughing in surprise.

    ¡°Is he okay?¡± he choked out, painful.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Is there something on my stomach?¡± I asked, then reactively I looked down and saw my body, what it looked like during this ritual.

    My skin was covered in what looked like black tattoos, the back of my hands covered in a circle with eight lines intersecting them like the suns rays, then three lines weaving in and out in an intricate thread all the way up my arm and presumably across the rest of my body. My stomach was covered in a much larger circle, with more intricate rays that also made it resemble a sun, or maybe a flower. The lines were a deep black, the kind that was endless if you didn¡¯t look away. Seeing my body like this made me jump up, despite the pain, for the surprise was greater in me.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I babbled in confusion, probably looking far from fine. ¡°What¡¯s happened to me?¡±

    Conifer echoed my questions, and Sage grew weary of us, rolling his eyes and holding his palms up.

    ¡°Easy, the both of you. This isn¡¯t something new, it¡¯s the seal your mother gave you.¡±

    He said it so casually, so conversationally, that you¡¯d think he was saying I was just the changing of the seasons, just a blustery day, just another rabbit scurrying in the undergrowth, just another noise in the ether. I gave him a look with too much emotion to really say any particular thing, because I wasn¡¯t sure what was happening. When he met my eyes, I could see he wasn¡¯t feeling great about it either; he went to grab my shoulder but I pulled back, leaving his hand out to reach for me in the air.

    ¡°Look, this is going to take a while and you both need some medical attention. We¡¯ll talk about this back at our shack.¡±

    ¡°No we won¡¯t!¡± Conifer grunted, trying to get up despite his wounds. I went to grab him but Basil was there first, his body moving in such a dark blur you¡¯d mistake him for a phantom. ¡°Oh, thank you, sir,¡± Conifer said, dismissive. Basil didn¡¯t even nod. ¡°But anyway, no we can¡¯t go back to you. We must get back to Parsley and Rose, and see that they are well.¡±

    Sage shook his head but agreed. ¡°Fine. I assume they¡¯re the two women who have been spying through that hole back there?¡±

    He held a thumb out toward Rose and Parsley, both of whom were watching us even then, through that fog. I saw the shadows of them move in the haze, back into their little hovel. Conifer nodded, and we were off.

    When we got back, Sage stepped inside and let out an exhausted noise. ¡°This isn¡¯t enough room,¡± he groaned, placing a palm on the wall. Either he used his power, or the wall was just finished, because it collapsed in a heap afterwards. Everyone except Basil and himself flinched and shielded their face. When the building didn¡¯t collapse, he just shrugged and said, ¡°Well, that works, I guess. Here, you girls help me get rid of this debris and we can set up a spot for everyone to rest.¡± So the four of them set about to fixing a spot for us, while I sat with Conifer, trying to get his mind off the pain he had. Outside of bruising in the areas Bitter hit him, and a few stray cuts that weren¡¯t that deep, the issues were internal and none of us could properly see what was happening to him. He put on a tough face, but I was worried; anything could be going on beneath his skin. He could die.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to be all right,¡± I said, holding him up by his shoulder with my good arm.

    Breathing raggedly, he smirked, the sweat glistening on his face. ¡°So you¡¯re the prince of Avocado,¡± he said, smiling wider as he said it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother yourself with that,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not like it matters anyway.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak for me!¡± he wheezed, drawing the attention of Rose, who needed to be told by Parsley to ignore him and keep moving everything. I grimaced, but said nothing. Obviously he had something to say, and I didn¡¯t have it in me to keep him from saying it.

    ¡°I should have known before,¡± he spoke softly, his voice so quiet it carried a tired ophidian whisper. ¡°You came here with him, after all. Our king wouldn¡¯t bring any old kid here, it wouldn¡¯t make sense.¡± He stifled a cough, then glared at Sage¡¯s back with his dark eyes, droopy with heavy bags beneath them and deep, red rivers running through them. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I told some prince the story of my life. Housed one in my trashy home. Even scolded him like he were¡­¡± The tears were flowing openly then, and I didn¡¯t know what to do. He sobbed, and I kept holding his shoulder, doing my best to stare at nothing and failing miserably, passing glances and paying attention to my peripheral as if it were my central vision. Eventually, the situation became too much for everyone to ignore, and I saw Rose tear up, not necessarily because she felt the same but probably more because of her nature as someone of empathy, seeing the sadness of Conifer was too much for her to bare. She dropped the assorted sticks and wood and trash she carried, and went to turn to comfort Conifer, maybe even me, when Sage placed a massive hand on her shoulder, the small motion so loud it caught my attention like thunder. He didn¡¯t speak to her, just gave her a somber face that said, ¡°I¡¯ll take it from here.¡±

    Sage came over to us and knelt down, in front of Conifer more than myself. ¡°You took care of the boy in my stead,¡± he said with a warmth whose depth I could not fathom, ¡°Is that correct?¡±

    Conifer looked at him with so much emotion he appeared blank.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry if he caused you any trouble,¡± Sage continued, not averting his eyes. ¡°He can be a terrible kid, but inside of him is someone good, someone who cares more than he lets on,¡± he glanced at me, smiling. ¡°I can compensate you in any way you wish, if you need.¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    I saw Conifer ball a fist, but before he could do anything that he¡¯d regret I interrupted him.

    ¡°Conifer is searching for his family,¡± I said. ¡°His wife and daughter were taken from him by war a long time ago, and he¡¯s been searching ever since. I think after all he¡¯s been through, it¡¯s our duty to help him.¡±

    Sage raised an eyebrow at me, and Conifer was speechless. I don¡¯t think it ever occurred to him that asking for help was an option.

    ¡°You know, it¡¯s rude to speak for someone without their consent,¡± Sage said with a dubious smirk. ¡°I should think if Conifer had a request, he¡¯d ask on his own, wouldn¡¯t you sir?¡±

    Conifer wheezed, ¡°Sir? My king, I¡¯m no sir. I¡¯m a simple musician.¡±

    ¡°Too simple to ask me for something?¡±

    He sat, dumbfounded, then shook his head. ¡°Please,¡± he said. ¡°Please help me find my family.¡±

    Nodding, Sage said, ¡°I can do that. If they aren¡¯t here in the Orange Archipelago, I should think they¡¯re somewhere out in the Tamarind continent proper. That would mean a lot of sailing, a lot of walking and information gathering for me and Basil here. It would take years for my crew to go searching for two women like that, maybe more. Then we¡¯d have to come back and find you. You might not even be alive by then.¡±

    Conifer stared down into his lap, wiped the mix of blood and spit from the corner of his mouth. ¡°So it¡¯s impossible?¡±

    Sage laughed heartily. ¡°Nothing¡¯s impossible for me, my friend. I was just thinking if you need my help it might make more sense for you to accompany us?¡±

    I blinked at him, then at Conifer, who was staring equally as confused as I was back at me.

    ¡°Of course, if our young prince here has proven to be too big a nuisance to you¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Conifer said, his eyes once again watery. ¡°No, that should be fine. If you¡¯ll have me, then I¡¯ll gladly come along.¡±

    With great effort, Conifer leaned in to hug me, and while I looked over his shoulder at Sage I mouthed the words, ¡°Thank you,¡± to him. I never told him just how much it meant to me that he would take Conifer along with us like that, but a part of me thinks he knew just how important it was to help him, not just for himself but for me too.

    Everyone finished making our beds of hay, and soon we were both lying down and under the care of our impromptu nurses Rose and Basil, neither of whom probably understood exactly what they were doing but helped anyway. Rose knew how to sew well enough to stitch the outer wounds that were particularly bad on Conifer, and Basil had knowledge of general medicine that he was able to prepare easy enough for us, and got my arm into a position that would allow it to heal faster and more correctly. They weren¡¯t sure if Conifer¡¯s inner wound would heal, but Basil and Sage were confident enough that no one thought too hard about it. Through it all, Basil still hadn¡¯t spoken.

    Sage left Basil with us and told him to rest, and told me that if he didn¡¯t rest to force him to. I don¡¯t think I could have done that, but the moment Sage left Basil was passed out and snoring with so much immediacy it almost seemed fake. Conifer was asleep due to some of the medicine that Basil had given him, so it was just me, Parsley and Rose, both of whom never spoke to me much save for the basic greetings we¡¯d administer here and there, or the idle small talk which would occur during the times Conifer and I would visit. Before, I was just a young boy Conifer had taken in as some surrogate son. Now I was the prince of a foreign country.

    It¡¯s strange how you spend so much time around people, even think you care for them, and yet you don¡¯t know a thing about them.

    With that in mind, I found myself staring down at my hand, remembering what it looked like covered in those black tattoos, and wondering what Sage meant when he said I had been sealed. The sounds of outside lingered in that home, everyone in Persea probably seeing what the commotion was about and fixing everything, no doubt with Sage at the helm.

    ¡°Erm,¡± Rose said, padding softly over to me with a nervousness unusual for her. It made me wince; I must have scared her with everything that happened.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, staring up at her from my hay bed. Her skin was so pale it almost glowed in the darkness.

    ¡°I just wanted to say¡ª¡±

    ¡°We, dear,¡± Parsley said, speaking softly from her sickness. She was beside Rose now, resting both hands affectionately on her daughter¡¯s shoulders. ¡°We must thank you and Conifer, and Sage and Basil too of course. You all came to our aid, knowing we couldn¡¯t get out of here due to my illness.¡±

    I smiled lightly and glanced over at Conifer. ¡°All your thanks should go to him, honestly. Truthfully, I wouldn¡¯t have come here if he didn¡¯t fight tooth and nail to get to you guys.¡± Sighing, I could feel my hands shaking, the nerves getting to me. Admission to my dishonorable actions made things feel more real, yet more unreal at the same time. How could I be so foolish to think leaving them behind was a good idea? ¡°He really loves the two of you.¡±

    Parsley nodded, clearing her throat of all the phlegm she had, an exercise in futility she had become accustomed to. ¡°We know. When he told me about his family, I realized very quickly that to him, we were replacements for his own, though I suspect he doesn¡¯t realize it.¡±

    She was perceptive, I thought. Maybe she knew I was a prince the entire time.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure about all that,¡± I replied.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a pretty introspective guy. I¡¯d bet Conifer knows what you are to him on some level, but honestly I don¡¯t think he sees you as that completely. He doesn¡¯t love you like his old family, he loves you like a second family.¡±

    Parsley and Rose both smiled at that, and I could tell that me saying that helped clear away some of the fear Rose seemed to harbor toward me and open up a line of dialogue between us again, albeit a small, awkward line.

    ¡°Well said,¡± Conifer whispered grinning in his bed. Parsley jumped so fiercely she erupted into a coughing fit, and Rose helped her over to her own bed. He laughed lightly, sounding far away. ¡°Sorry, I can¡¯t sleep so well with this pain. I¡¯ll be waking up all night.

    ¡°But,¡± he continued, groaning as he got up to his feet, ¡°How in the world did you know that was how I felt? I never said anything like that to you.¡±

    I shrugged, unable to conceal the satisfaction on my face. ¡°You do say it though. In your one song you like to sing while we harvest bell peppers.¡±

    He smirked, then limped out, saying he had to relieve himself.

    Rose came over to me quickly, kneeling down to ask, ¡°What does he sing about mom and me?¡±

    So, from memory I said the words which Conifer sang, though I may have gotten a few wrong:

    I lost my ring along the way,

    Oh, oh, oh,

    I lost count of all the days,

    Oh, oh, oh,

    Yet the memory remains,

    Oh, oh, oh

    Yet the memory remains,

    I lost my color in the sun,

    Oh, oh, oh,

    I lost the time on the run,

    Oh, oh, oh,

    But I kept up my selfish deeds,

    Oh, oh, oh,

    But I kept up my selfish deeds,

    Well I keep on moving forward,

    Oh, oh, oh,

    Unsure what I¡¯m moving toward,

    Oh, oh, oh,

    But we¡¯ll get there together,

    Through the good and bad weather,

    We¡¯ll make due with this life,

    And enjoy our time together.

    ¡°That¡¯s not how it goes,¡± Conifer chided, limping back to his bed of hay with indignance. ¡°Well, whatever. In any case, you figured me out. I¡¯m going to try and sleep again.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°That¡¯s fine. Rest as much as you can.¡±

    Which left just me and Rose, awake far past our typical rest hours. She obviously wasn¡¯t sure what to do, and decided to sit awkwardly in the middle of the room, equal distance from everyone and facing the wall, staring through the hole that was in it, looking more inward than out.

    Under normal circumstances, I found her too interesting to look at to really speak to. But crisis situations are good for bringing out the talkative side in anyone, as it helps reaffirm you¡¯re still alive. And on that night, I desperately wanted to remind the world I was there.

    ¡°You okay?¡± I asked, not looking at her more because moving my body required too much commitment for me at that moment.

    She nodded, then pulled her legs up to her stomach, resting her arms on her knees and her chin on her arms. Her hair was wild, unkempt from the commotion, and her eyes were so sunken in that out of everyone there, she was the one who looked like she needed sleep most.

    ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡± she asked, still staring off into nothing.

    I moved then, groaning the whole way. ¡°What¡¯s what like?¡±

    ¡°Being a prince.¡±

    Sighing, I shrugged and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know. Not much different from being a commoner, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± she asked, surprise in her voice.

    ¡°Mhm,¡± I nodded. ¡°Honestly, I probably felt more ill at ease in the castle than I ever have out of it. They want you to be someone specific, you know? Like you¡¯ve got to be this thing that walks a certain way and says these specific sentences and phrases at the correct times, and you¡¯ve got to know how to fight using a sword because a sword is elegant and royal, and you¡¯ve got to appear handsome and interesting at all times so the common folk follow you, and it¡¯s all a huge headache.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a lot,¡± she said, giggling softly so she wouldn¡¯t wake anyone.

    ¡°It is,¡± I said, my voice even lower than hers. ¡°It¡¯s too much. I¡¯m no prince.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s not true,¡± she said, finally looking at me. My eyes darted away.

    ¡°In what way?¡±

    ¡°If your mother was a queen, and your father was a king, then you¡¯re a prince and that¡¯s just the way it is,¡± she said, her eyebrows raised as if she were playing a silly children¡¯s game. ¡°There isn¡¯t anything to think about there, just as I was born from my mother so I can only be me, you were born as you and can only be you. Even if you aren¡¯t the best prince you can be, that¡¯s just what you are. You can¡¯t change that.¡±

    I didn¡¯t believe her, but I said, ¡°Yeah, maybe. I never really looked at it that way.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s rather simple,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°I wish I could be someone like that.¡±

    ¡°Why? Aren¡¯t you content with your life already?¡±

    ¡°Oh sure, in some ways it¡¯s okay,¡± she said, back to staring into the street. ¡°But I suppose things always appear grand on the outside. I don¡¯t want to live a life without meaning, and being royalty would make it pretty easy to find something for my life.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re pretty good at healing people,¡± I said. ¡°Why not just do that?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get it,¡± she sighed. ¡°Mother¡¯s the same way. It¡¯s not about the position, it¡¯s what you do with it. And personally, I don¡¯t think I could be someone special when it comes to healing. I wouldn¡¯t change any lives.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a foolish statement,¡± I laughed.

    Rose squinted her eyes at me. ¡°What¡¯s so funny about wanting to do something meaningful?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just it,¡± I said. ¡°You changed a few lives today by helping fix Conifer and myself up. I don¡¯t really know how to show you how much that means. Maybe you¡¯re looking at things on too large a scale. You can change lives more slowly than a prince, but probably more effectively. I don¡¯t see the problem there. Now me, I can change lives, sure, but if I do it poorly I won¡¯t exactly be well liked. People might kill me¡ªhell they might try even if I do well. If you try your best, people will still love you, least I think they will.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± she buried her face into her knees.

    ¡°What? Do I still not get it?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°No, thank you for the advice, but honestly I think I just don¡¯t know what I want to do.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s normal,¡± I sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone really knows what they want until they¡¯re older. We¡¯re only thirteen or fourteen, so we have some time still.¡±

    Rose laughed then. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m fifteen. Almost sixteen.¡±

    Which made my face turn a bright scarlet that hopefully wouldn¡¯t be seen in the dark. ¡°Oh, I thought you were about my age.¡±

    ¡°Well, kind of,¡± she said. ¡°Just not the same exact age.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? Being almost sixteen makes you about two or three years older than me!¡±

    She was chuckling heartily then, which earned her a groggy smack from her mother.

    We both decided it was best to quiet down and sleep then, and in minutes she was out like the smoldering wick of a candle, snoring subtly in the mostly silent room. The work being done outside was somewhat noisy, but it was so dull that it became white noise to me, and I should have been able to sleep. My mind raced too much, however, with the thought of the girl sleeping across from me and the men I fought¡ªthe man I killed, both penetrating my head with a needle tipped dagger.

    Both thoughts were frightening, perhaps, but my fear and anxiety of Rose was more welcoming than the haunt of my first murder.

 Chapter Nineteen

    The sun rose up and poured into Rose and Parsley¡¯s barely standing shack, and Basil woke with it instantly, without taking even a moment to stretch or yawn. He walked over to me to wake me, but I was already up, my eyes heavy with the burden of my mind. Shaking me, I got up and met his eyes, which flicked to the door, indicating I should follow him. Everyone else was still asleep, and Sage still hadn¡¯t returned, which at least made sense this time; there was a lot to repair, and more to mull over.

    Once we were outside, Basil led the way with the posture of a wraith. If he wanted to scare everyone into staying out of our way it worked very well, to the point where I barely wanted to be with him. Whatever had happened on his journey to Persea, it had left him a husk of the man I barely knew.

    Or maybe this was how he normally was. I had spent only a short time with him prior to this, after all.

    ¡°You look tired,¡± he finally croaked out, his voice hoarse.

    I nodded as we turned the corner, trying to stay with him. The clean up crew was holding my interest better.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t get much sleep,¡± I replied, watching people pile debris into one of the large wagons we¡¯d use to hold the bell peppers for harvest. Many homes were so far gone that the streets were not so cramped, and half of Kiyomi seemed to be entirely gone.

    All because they wanted to get to me.

    ¡°You had a rough night,¡± he said, placing a hand on my head. There was warmth to his touch, and he cracked a smile with busted, leaking lips.

    ¡°Where are you taking me, Basil?¡± I asked, yawning.

    ¡°Over to the shoreline. I need to see to Hammy for a while, then Sage will meet us there,¡± he said, his voice giving out here and there. He almost sounded sick, but he looked more like he was just exhausted.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I nodded. ¡°Will you tell me what happened then?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°When Sage returns I¡¯ll fill you both in.¡±

    That surprised me. ¡°He doesn¡¯t know what happened yet?¡±

    ¡°No, I was too incapacitated to relay anything I learned in Persea,¡± he croaked, coughing this time.

    ¡°That makes se¡ª¡± I started, then I blinked. I almost missed that. ¡°Wait a minute, Hammy is here?¡±

    Basil smirked, splitting his lip a bit. He swore, licked the wound, then said, ¡°Yes. I assume you met her at Durian?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°But why¡¯s she here?¡±

    ¡°Well, we needed something faster to get here,¡± he scratched his head, ruffling his hair into something resembling a shrub. Green hair doesn¡¯t go well with bed head. ¡°Hammy heard Sage¡¯s call, and we were off. She came in handy, too. Without her massive tail, we couldn¡¯t have stopped the fires here so quickly.¡±

    That answered one of the questions I had. ¡°It had been bothering me¡ªtrying to figure out the whole sudden tsunami thing, I mean. In what I¡¯ve seen, Vastmire doesn¡¯t give you power like that.¡±

    Basil shrugged, ¡°Yes, well, that¡¯s not entirely true. Sage probably could have done it himself, but it wouldn¡¯t have been so effective and it would have been much more difficult for him to do well. So it made more sense to have Hammy do it. Besides,¡± he said, baring his teeth in an attempt to smile without breaking his lips, ¡°without her help it would have taken longer to get to you, and you were in a heap of trouble.¡±

    I frowned at the thought of that huge man who almost killed Conifer and stole me. ¡°Sage called that man Bitter. How does he know him?¡±

    Sighing quickly turned into a feverish coughing fit, and we had to stop a moment while Basil caught his breath. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, a barely audible wheeze. ¡°My throat is still pretty raw.¡±

    ¡°You going to be alright?¡± I met his eyes, and he nodded at me.

    ¡°Should be, yeah. Might just take a few more days and a lot of water.¡± Grimacing, he returned to walking down the hill we were on. We still had a ways to go to get to the shore, and it was only then that I realized how bad Basil¡¯s shape was. If he were healthy, he¡¯d have just hoisted me onto his back and leapt over everything in no time.

    What did Cashew do to him?

    ¡°Anyway, Bitter. He¡¯s one of the five big warriors, each of which represent their country. Think of them as generals, but more heroic and less tactical. Bitter is the knight of Lychee, the mountain land to the far southeast. He¡¯s got a history with Sage, but I don¡¯t know too much about it other than that they¡¯ve fought a few times and fought together some as well.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve fought together?¡± I sputtered, almost laughing. It seemed strange to me that Sage would fight with someone like him. They seemed so opposite.

    ¡°That¡¯s what war is, especially in Tamarind,¡± Basil said, both palms held up. ¡°Most of the time, countries band together for a coalition army against one or two particular nations. It usually starts as one against one, but turns into two against two or three relatively quickly. Just depends on how things are going, who¡¯s in charge, and who owes who.¡±

    ¡°Still,¡± I pondered, staring at the clouds. ¡°When was Lychee allied with Avocado?¡±

    ¡°My prince, I know I am technically a servant,¡± Basil chided, coughing lightly. ¡°But please allow me to rest my voice. It¡¯s aching from all this talking.¡±

    Sighing, I kicked the dirt and nodded. ¡°Sorry, Basil. I¡¯ve just got so many questions, and I feel like I¡¯m just being dragged everywhere without knowing why.¡±

    ¡°You are,¡± he croaked. ¡°You¡¯ll know more soon, just let me rest.¡±

    We made our way to the shore, and sure enough we met Hammy there, circling in the deeper waters idly as if it were guarding the islands. I had forgotten just how large she was, and seeing her was impressive. It was nice that Sage was taking his time, as this meant I could relax for a while and study Hammy from afar, seeing what she was like. Basil spent the time resting in the sand, nearly dozing off from the nice, breezy weather we had despite the intense summer sun.

    Sage showed up maybe an hour later, looking ragged and in desperate need of sleep. His face made it apparent that he hadn¡¯t slept soundly in a long time. Staggering over to me, he tapped my shoulder and called out, ¡°Well, I¡¯m just about finished up with organizing everything here, Basil. You mind explaining to us what you found out while you were in Persea now that we¡¯re all together?¡±

    Basil nodded and got up, coughing as he did. ¡°Right,¡± he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. He held up a hand and bent over in a fit.

    ¡°Take your time,¡± Sage muttered, squeezing my shoulder.

    Nodding, he stood up and gave himself a second to catch his breath, then he nodded again and said, ¡°Right. Well, Queen Juniper is a traitor sums things up pretty neatly.¡±

    I felt Sage tense up, his fingernails digging into my shoulder. I turned and looked up at him, his emerald eyes smoky and intense. He was gauging my reaction to the situation. To his surprise, I wasn¡¯t freaking out or denying it. Maybe I knew deep down that this would be the outcome all along.

    So instead of doing something drastic, I just looked back at Basil and said, ¡°What¡¯s the whole situation? Is she just letting Cashew work or is she actively helping them out?¡±

    Basil scratched the back of his hand, ¡°Well, for the most part she seems to be allowing Cashew to do as they please. They¡¯ve taken over Persea and seem ready to spread their sphere of influence across the country until all of Avocado is under Cashew rule. However, while Cashew seems ready to rule the world, I have a feeling Juniper isn¡¯t revealing all that is in her hand.¡±

    Sage nodded. ¡°She is most at home when she is undermining someone. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she were allowing Cashew to take over everything so she could take over Cashew instead of many countries.¡±

    None of this sounded like the woman I knew as my mother, but before I said anything I thought about just how little I really knew about her. I didn¡¯t know anything regarding her dealings as a politician, as a ruler. And ever since I left home, what little I knew of her as a mother had been under question. Whatever I knew of Juniper was tainted. She was as much an enigma to me as she was to everyone else.

    Noting my change in expression, Sage smiled at me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, boy. She will not succeed.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t what I was worried about, but I smiled anyway to be polite.

    Basil coughed a few times then said, ¡°Well, before I was found out I did find out one thing regarding everything that didn¡¯t make much sense to me.¡±

    We turned our attention back to him.

    ¡°Sumac, the prince of Cashew, is masquerading as Peppermint Avocado, your replacement. I¡¯m entirely unsure why. At first I felt like it was some sort of joke being played by the young prince, but the more I saw him interacting with everyone the more I found not only himself to be too into the experience, but everyone else as well. No one missed a step in treating him as Juniper¡¯s child. It was strange, and I see no real tactical reasoning behind it other than giving me the creeps.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°That¡¯s weird, yeah,¡± I mumbled, confused. Why would Sumac do that? Why would mother want that?

    ¡°Is that everything then, Basil?¡± Sage asked him.

    ¡°That¡¯s a rough overview yeah,¡± he nodded. ¡°All we really know now is that we must drive Cashew away from Avocado before they¡¯re able to move in on the rest of Tamarind uncontested.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± I yelled, suddenly realizing there was even more to it. ¡°If Bitter is from Lychee, and he was after me, doesn¡¯t that mean that Lychee is a part of their coalition as well?¡±

    Sage and Basil¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Shit,¡± the said in unison.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even think about that,¡± Basil muttered, scratching his hand.

    ¡°Well, in any case, our plan remains unchanged,¡± Sage said. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ve got work to do,¡± he grabbed me by the shoulder and lead me down to the water.

    ¡°Wait, where are you taking me? Basil didn¡¯t say anything about this,¡± I babbled, struggling as he walked me to the beach.

    ¡°I¡¯ll fill you in after we get there,¡± he said, then he whistled and Hammy was nearly on the beach in the span of a few seconds. ¡°Just hop on her and we¡¯ll get going.¡±

    My eyes bugged out of my head. ¡°What do we need to ride Hammy for?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to Clementine to get started on your training,¡± he said, slapping my back so I fell into the water. ¡°With the amount of danger you¡¯re about to be in, and the fact that you can wield a small amount of Vastmire, you need to figure out how to defend yourself. Bitter and the other Flavors will be after you, and in your current state you won¡¯t be able to survive without any help. Understand?¡±

    Sputtering up water, I nodded and said, ¡°Alright.¡± Then I got on Hammy¡¯s head and held tight to her wavy opal fur, alongside Sage.

    Saying yes and diving in had slowly become the norm.

    ???????????????

    The island of Clementine is not very far from Mango, and the ride on Hammy¡¯s head made the trip even shorter. Before I could even come up with a point of conversation¡ªlike why we had to go to an island in the first place, or why Sage was so tired looking, or if he knew exactly what had happened to Basil¡ªwe were already on the shores of that horrible place. It was beautiful at a glance; the shore was untouched, perfect sand the sort that would be better suited in a bottle than a beach; the way the shore transformed into hills, into forests, was equally stunning; the birds were vibrant and exotic, the likes of which I¡¯d never seen, and were only an appetizer for the wildlife I would meet upon entering that cove of danger.

    Sage smacked my back and sent me hurtling to the sandy beach, leaving me sprawled out in that warm blanket. He hopped down after me, landing on his feet as he had no doubt done many times.

    ¡°Stop pushing me,¡± I tried to growl out, but yawned instead, the sand more comfortable than it should have been.

    He smirked. ¡°The fact that you get pushed at all is the reason we¡¯re here, boy. You need to become your own defense. I think a month on this island ought to do you some good.¡±

    That statement was more than enough to bring me away from any ensuing nap. ¡°A month? You can¡¯t train me for a month, that¡¯s way too long! Sage, there¡¯s got to be a faster way, my mother needs he¡ª¡± I stopped myself, remembering the situation. ¡°My kingdom needs help, and if my parents aren¡¯t going to fix it then it has to be me.¡±

    Sage nodded and sat next to me in the sand, while Hammy returned to the sea, content to circle and do whatever it was she did out there. Perhaps she was eating the wildlife, or playing with them for all I knew.

    ¡°I¡¯m well aware of the situation. I know that even as we speak, Avocado is falling deeper and deeper into that spiderweb your mother is weaving. Conversely, the citizens are under all sorts of new social and political pressures that can¡¯t be easy for them to understand. A civil war could easily break out soon if things don¡¯t get resolved,¡± his voice grew harder, more cold with each word spoken, ¡°and I understand all of this more than you possibly could, boy.¡±

    I winced; those words cut me.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± he consoled me. ¡°You are young, you see things from the view of a boy, not a man nor a prince. But that will change, you just need two things.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? What are those?¡± I asked, watching the waves.

    ¡°Time and hardship,¡± he declared, patting my back. ¡°We grow the longer we live, it¡¯s as simple as that.

    ¡°Now then,¡± he continued, ¡°Before I go, I need to ask you something.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow at that. Sage wasn¡¯t one to ask me questions, usually he just came to me with all the answers instead. ¡°Sure, go ahead.¡±

    ¡°When did you notice the Vastmire first come out?¡±

    I shrugged, doodling a few birds in the sand with my good hand. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure yesterday was the very first time. I can¡¯t remember any other instance where it ever seemed like it came out before.¡±

    ¡°Not even a little?¡± he asked, his voice quickening. ¡°No other times where you were like that? Give it some thought.¡±

    To me it seemed silly, but I nodded and thought about it for a moment. No other times came to mind, however, so I told him, ¡°No, it was just yesterday.¡±

    He nodded, then he said, ¡°Take off your shirt and stand up.¡±

    Once again, this seemed weird but I obliged him, throwing my shirt and cloak into the sand.

    Then he knocked me twenty feet into the air.

    With nothing but his index finger, no less.

    The strength and speed of the attack was so incredible and out of nowhere that I had no time to think, only time to react, and my body did what it had to do to keep itself alive. For a normal person, this would probably result in flailing about and trying to find a way to land safely despite the futility of the situation. However, I am of Avocado, of the Vastmire, so what happened to me was different.

    My body covered itself in those deep, black tattoo marks, which went all over my chest and arms, and the air a finger length away from my body became an iridescent green. When I splashed into the water, I felt nothing. The green material that held me was a blanket, keeping me safe as one does a baby. I stood up with no trouble, and walked over to Sage, the air around me still glowing, ready for anything.

    He glared at my chest like it had disrespected him, huffing all the while. Pointing an accusing finger, he barked out, ¡°That is an abomination, and anyone wishing to call themselves mother should be ashamed for putting that on their son.¡±

    Staring down at my chest, I mumbled, ¡°Before, you said this was a seal, right?¡±

    Sage breathed out a yes. ¡°It¡¯s a seal with many names, coming from a land far away from the Tamarind Sea. Your mother must have put it on you long ago, before you could even remember. I would guess you were but a newborn baby.¡±

    As he spoke, the tattoos faded, starting from the tips of my fingers and fading slowly up my arms, over my shoulders, and into my chest, all the way back to the origin point in my stomach. Sage spat on the ground.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of it?¡± I asked, confused. ¡°Does it just stop the Vastmire from coming out? If so, it¡¯s doing a pretty bad job don¡¯t you think?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°It was doing a fine job before. But your mother hasn¡¯t been able to keep up the ritual.¡±

    ¡°Ritual? She never did any sort of black magic to me, not in my presence.¡±

    ¡°Yes she did,¡± he enunciated each word with venom. Then he took a deep breath and held a hand to his forehead. He looked very old then, very tired. ¡°Here, I¡¯ll show you,¡± he sighed, then grabbed my hands and said, ¡°Look into my eyes and don¡¯t look away. Ring any bells?¡±

    They did.

    They rang loud and clear.

    When he saw my reaction he shut his eyes, lip quivering slightly.

    Gulping, I asked, ¡°So what will happen when the seal fades? I get the use of Vastmire like you?¡±

    Sage stood still for a moment, holding my hands, eyes shut, like a statue a millennia old, filled with ancient mystery. ¡°Not exactly,¡± he eventually said, the sun basking him in a light more dubious than holy. Opening his eyes, he explained, ¡°Vastmire is unlike anything you can imagine. It¡¯s a power that is more or less trying constantly to overtake you as the master, every waking second you are subject to a mental and physical assault by it. If you aren¡¯t prepared for it, you will be consumed by it, eroded by it, until you are unrecognizable, a narrow vision of who you once were. You will be hit by endless waves of corruption the likes of which you¡¯ve only heard of in fairy tales about evil.¡±

    Frowning, I asked, ¡°You¡¯re being a little overdramatic, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Sage gripped my hands and shook his head. ¡°I wish.¡±

    Pulling my hands away, I walked further inland, submerging my feet deeper into the sand as I did. ¡°So I¡¯m a lost cause then.¡±

    He came over to me swiftly and made a noise in his throat. ¡°If you were, I wouldn¡¯t be trying to teach you all of this. I¡¯d be trying to continue the ritual instead, and lock away that power within you so that you may never be destroyed by it. Vastmire isn¡¯t pretty, trust me as a man who has lived with it for longer than you¡¯ve walked this planet.¡±

    Staring down at the sand, I smirked, and understood nothing. ¡°It might be dangerous, like you say. But you¡¯re also saying that I¡¯ll be strong, yes?¡±

    The wind blew, sands drifting gracefully across the beach.

    ¡°If you can learn to control it, then yes. You will be strong enough to accomplish whatever you must, so long as you only accomplish what you need and not what you desire.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I get what you mean by that,¡± I said, staring at my hands with machinations of destruction planting in my minds soil.

    Huffing, Sage looked at the sun and said, ¡°I must get going, unfortunately. While you¡¯re out here surviving, I¡¯m going to be rallying the troops.¡±

    ¡°Troops?¡± I turned, confused. ¡°Are we going to war?¡±

    Baring his teeth, he said, ¡°Boy, we already are. They attacked my islands indiscriminately searching for you, and they will be back here sooner than you think, maybe even sooner than that. So I¡¯ve got to organize a way to gather some troops for leaving these islands and figure out how to defend them at the same time. It¡¯s a lot of work, you know, king stuff and all that. Pay it no mind.¡±

    Reaching behind him, he pulled out a long dagger, still in its sheath. It had a hilt that was just as long as the blade, making it closer to a sword in length, and in the pommel was an emerald stone the size of my thumb nail. ¡°Here,¡± he said, lobbing it to me slowly. I caught it and immediately took it out.

    ¡°Wow,¡± was all I could say. The blade was stunning, bright enough to blind you if the sun caught it right, and sharp enough to cut the air in half. Lightly holding it in my palm sliced the first layer of skin cleanly.

    ¡°That dagger was a gift to me a long time ago from a friend in Lychee,¡± Sage said with pride. ¡°It was forged in the fires of Star Mountain, and should be strong enough to ebb any of the skill you lack. So long as you hold onto that blade, your survival here should be simple enough.¡± He saw the eager look on my face and frowned, looking nervous. ¡°Just keep track of it, if I ever meet that friend again and they find I¡¯ve lost their blade, they¡¯ll kill me, alright?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll cherish it. Thank you, Sage.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± he said, still looking nervous, regretful even. His lack of confidence in me was palpable. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll see you in thirty days. Stay alive, boy.¡±

    Remembering he hadn¡¯t answered my question before, I sheathed the blade and slung it through my belt. ¡°Wait a second, Sage. What did you mean by the wants and needs stuff you were saying earlier?¡±

    But Sage just kept walking, right over the water like it was solid earth. He leapt up to Hammy¡¯s head, then pointed to the south and off they went, presumably back to Mango island. And as I watched them leave me there, alone on that beach with nothing to my name but a dagger worth more than my life, the realization of my loneliness grew slowly like a cancer in my head.

    I was alone.

    No one to take care of me.

    No one to keep me safe.

    No one to cook for me.

    No roof over my head.

    I was alone.

    Squeezing the hilt at my hip, I began my trek inland, unsure of the dangers that awaited me. Thirty days was a long time, after all.

 Chapter Twenty

    Clementine is an island as much of beauty as it is of danger. In no time at all I found that my survival would be much more work than Sage had made it out to be.

    The very first thing I did was explore, which was unfortunately cut short as the day¡¯s end approached. As far as islands go in the Orange Archipelago, Clementine is not one of the largest but it¡¯s no slouch when it comes to size, especially verticality; the terrain was hilly, even mountainous the further I went into the island. With my lack of skill and knowledge at creating shelter, my initial idea was to see if there were any caves anywhere at all that I could use to my advantage. After all, the most sturdy and safest shelter would be something held together by nature itself, right?

    This took me well into my first evening there. Much of the area nearest the beach I had landed on was covered in a veritable tropical forest, each tree topped with leaves larger than the shrubbery of Persea. Every skitter of an insect, every patter of rodent feet, every little intrusion pounding on my eardrum caused me to sweat profusely on that trek of uncertainty. My hand never left the hilt of Sage¡¯s dagger, my sweat so thick that the handle was covered in the sloppy butter of it.

    During my exploration of the forest, I noted that I saw little to no fruit or vegetables in the area, which was worrying. Killing an animal wouldn¡¯t be hard for me morally speaking, but hunting for food would be less stable than foraging, and my ability to cook was more lack thereof. I had also never skinned an animal or prepared one in any way¡ªin fact I should say that I never even thought of these things because the idea of hunting was too nebulous, too foreign. My sickly nature and the way mother had gone about hiding me from the public so they wouldn¡¯t see my anti-athleticism in action led to me knowing nothing of carnivorous food endeavors save for the hunt itself.

    When the sun fell just below the horizon, I had reached the edge of the forest and made it to the inner mountains of Clementine.

    I was unaware of their size.

    Sheer rock towered above me and seemed to reach up to touch the clouds, each mountain forming a barrier that divided the island in half. In some ways, this was helpful and necessary. I would not get lost in my stay on Clementine if I made sure to stay on one side of the fence, so to speak. Conversely, with there being¡ªas far as I could tell¡ªno edible vegetation on this side, it meant I¡¯d need to hunt for food.

    My grip on the dagger tightened.

    It made no difference to me which mountain might have a home, so I chose the one closest to me. The closer I got, the more I saw there was no way I would be able to reach anywhere near the peak. There was no trail on this mountain or presumably any of them, so my search would stay at the ground level, and my inexperience caused me distress, for I knew not that caves would be more likely on the ground anyway.

    Luckily, before the sun was completely gone I noticed a cave in the ground where the mountain I was searching dipped and turned into the next mountain. The entrance didn¡¯t look huge, but it was big enough for me to enter if I knelt down. I had no form of light and wasn¡¯t sure how to make a fire, so I entered and stayed near the entrance where I could see out.

    The inside didn¡¯t feel too large, and the dampness was cold and uncomfortable. I couldn¡¯t see myself living there for the next thirty days, but the idea of creating a shelter in the open with sticks or something didn¡¯t seem too plausible for me either.

    My stomach growled, echoing in that little chamber. The stars began peeking out, the dimly lit sky my only sense of comfort on that first night. I heard the hoot of owls, the only predator I was aware of, and imagined with jealousy that they were well fed.

    Had I known this was how my day was going to be, I would have eaten before I left.

    I¡¯d have said goodbye to Rose and Parsley, too. And Conifer. I frowned deeply at the thought of him. He must have missed me, surely. If I were there his recovery would be going better. I could poorly sing him a song of his, Parsley could bring us some food and the four of us could talk to each other and tell stories and have a nice time. It would feel warm, like home.

    Instead I was stuck in a cold, damp cave, alone.

    My stomach growled again, and soon I was asleep.

    ???????????????

    I¡¯m unsure of how much time passed. No dreams happened for me, so it couldn¡¯t have been too long. I had no sense to track the moon¡¯s position in the sky, so when I saw it was almost full and slightly to the left it meant nothing¡ªespecially when I wasn¡¯t aware if left was east or west, north or south.

    None of this mattered, though, for I was awake and alert, my heart pounding in my chest with the vigor of a man in danger.

    The crunch of footsteps sounded outside, around the corner of the mountain, coming closer and closer. It was so quiet that I normally wouldn¡¯t have heard, but I was too on edge. The sound was all I could hear besides the beat of my heart in my throat. I unsheathed the dagger, its blade flashing in the light of the moon. Everything in me knew this was a predator coming, probably returning to its cave. The steps were growing louder and louder, and my heart felt like it would regurgitate from my mouth in a frothy, bloody heap if it didn¡¯t show up already. The sound was just outside, merely steps away from the entrance.

    If I didn¡¯t move, I felt as if I would die.

    So I leapt out with a warcry somewhere between actual tears and a fit of useless warbling, and when I opened my eyes to see the enemy I was greeted with a rabbit whiter than the moon.

    At first, I spent my time recovering from the excitement and took a few much needed deep breaths. Then I debated on attempting to kill it. After all, I hadn¡¯t eaten and it was right there. It was practically begging me to kill it. So, dagger in hand, I took a tentative step forward and watched him bounce away with graceful agility, an agility too much for me to handle at that hour of the night.

    Sheathing my dagger, I curled back up and shut my eyes. I was too exhausted to feel weak or disappointed in myself for not pursuing the rabbit any further. That sort of feeling was for the next day.

    At least, it should have been.

    Instead, my eyes snapped open and I was back on my feet in seconds as the rabbit bounded back my way, toward the cave, being chased by an incredible creature I had never seen before in my life. It was a little larger than the baby behemoth I had seen on Durian, so maybe six or seven steps long and another six steps tall. It was covered in a short coat of grey fur, massive paws, and claws that were more talon than nail. Circling its neck was a mane of flowers, bright white with yellow centers. As the beast neared, I noticed that the flowers were actually growing from its neck as if it were a mobile garden. Its head was that of any carnivore, long and intimidating with presumably more teeth than necessary just in case a few went missing. There was a regalness to it, though, an almost royal aspect that I recognized instantly. Being near it was almost like being near my mother.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Before I could blink the beast mauled the rabbit instantaneously, seizing its life in less time than it took me to decide whether or not I should even try to do so. Holding the carcass in its teeth, ichor dripping warm droplets in the grass, its eyes caught the light of the moon and glowed in my direction.

    That¡¯s when I realized I was about to be the main course.

    We locked eyes for a moment, a brief eternity before I turned and sprint off away from the cave I¡¯d hoped to call my own. My eyes burned from waking up prematurely, and I couldn¡¯t see where I was going in the darkness. I felt the beasts presence behind me, hot on my heels, when I slipped and skidded to the ground so fast my whole world was flipped. When I got my bearings, I looked behind me and saw nothing, the creature wasn¡¯t in my sight. All I heard was the sound of my heavy breathing, the light rhythm of insects buzzing and chirruping, and nothing else.

    I hadn¡¯t gone far, and my curiosity was stronger than my intelligence. Staying low to the ground, as out of sight as possible despite the lack of vegetation, I made my way towards the cave, to see if the creature was still there or not. If it had gone away I could at least return to my spot and sleep, maybe. Sleep would come slower without shelter.

    Making my turn wide, I remained fifty or more steps away from the cave, crouching low so it may not see me, and I looked long and hard at the hole to see if there was any movement, or even a trail of blood leading somewhere. From my spot I could see neither, and after waiting for a while the exhaustion returned to me and the need to sleep outweighed the need to know where the creature was. My hand never left my dagger, though; wherever the creature may have been, I knew it was dangerous, not only by its look but by the speed it took that rabbits life. With movement that quick, I had no chance. Even Bitter would have trouble against such a beast.

    When I was forty steps away, eyes flickered in the hole, catching the light of the moon just right and I froze in my spot, a yelp escaping my tired lips. Backing away as slowly as possible, I returned to the higher ground I was on and sat there, dumb and unsure of what to do. I don¡¯t remember all the options I thought over, for I thought of many. The two options that really called to me were running and fighting, though.

    Running is obviously the most logical choice, I would think everyone reading this would agree with that. It guarantees my safety and gives me a much more reasonable chance of survival.

    Fighting, though. Now there¡¯s an idea.

    You have to understand, I was there to train and I knew it. I also knew a power lay within me behind a wall so high that without a push, I had no way of reaching it. Sage had showed me without words that all I had to do to reach the power of Vastmire was to send myself into danger. As unwitting prey, taken by surprise, I was nothing.

    But if I were to enter that cave swinging the dagger, should the creature attack me¡ªand should this theory be sound¡ªVastmire would surge through me and keep me not only alive, but make me strong enough to get rid of the thing before it could be a threat to me. Which was a big deal. With thirty days to survive there, having a predator not only hunting me but hunting my food sources would be a huge issue for my survivability.

    With all of these thoughts in mind, understand that I didn¡¯t think of any of this at the time.

    I chose to fight because I was in absolute dire need of my daily sleep.

    Well, okay maybe I also wanted to see if I could win. But my confidence in that was low, despite that theory. I just knew there was no way I was going to be able to relax without a roof above me, so I went back to the cave, dagger drawn and ready to go, stopping only to check the fear which rose each time those eyes glowed with that soulless, hungry gaze.

    Five steps away from the cave, and the creature finally stood and came out, its steps phlegmatic and curious as if to say, ¡°Who would be so crazy as to challenge me, king of this land?¡±

    Standing before him, I questioned it myself. Who? Me?

    Why me?

    The standoff was more nerve wracking than the actually fight. We circled slowly, feeling each other out and trying to find an opening. Either I was leaving no openings, or he was full or something, because he didn¡¯t attack me right away. Myself, well I was too frightened to actually get started. I just held tight to the dagger and hoped it could cut when I needed it to.

    Then the beast growled and leapt forward, paw chopping downward like an axe. I took a step back, but was too slow and received a small cut down my calf. Sweat began pouring out of me in response, and I took another step back with more speed the next time, dodging another chop, then another, before the beast took a step back and reset the situation, circling me now with a more relaxed gaze. More comfortable.

    It knew it was winning.

    My palms were slick, and the blade was faltering in my hand. I used my free hand to grip my wrist to keep it from shaking, and I took a deep breath in an attempt to maintain some level of calmness, of clarity.

    When I was finished, the creature took a step forward, ready for the kill. Steadying my breathing, I stepped in and decided it was all or nothing in that moment. If I did nothing, then I would die. If I at least attempted to hit the creature, I could possibly get away from it or even kill it out right. It was better to move than to stand still, waiting to die.

    Most battles, as I¡¯ve come to learn at my age, are fast. Much, much faster than it takes to read the words I¡¯ve written here. In mere seconds, a life is over. In a moment, a kingdom could fall. A battle is an explosion of energy from both sides, resulting in the world changing drastically. That¡¯s part of the draw, I think; the desire to change the world with your own two hands. You take everything you have and throw it at the enemy, proving that you¡¯re worth living and worth listening to. You rule the kingdom now, or you eat their meat. Whatever the fight is for, you have changed the status quo. And it only took a few seconds.

    This also took only a second, perhaps two.

    I stepped in, mere inches from the paw chopping downward to my left, and I saw the eyes of my enemy widen with surprise. Even a novice like me recognized the emotion on its face. So, taking advantage of this, and using the energy which was ready to burst forth from the excitement that I had not yet died, I launched my dagger forward in a stab, still holding it with both hands to help steady it. I missed its head, and its neck, but managed to slice a portion of the flowers in its mane on the way to cutting its torso open like butter, the blade so sharp that I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d done anything until I stepped back and noticed all the dark, nearly black blood dripping from the beasts chest. A roar rang out so loudly that birds flew in massive flocks away from the area, and the beast almost sent me running with that voice, so loud it was. Instead, fear kept me still, my eyes analyzing its every move so I could keep myself from dying. I imagined that the creature would come at me with enough anger to kill me twice over.

    Instead, it stared at me, breathing ragged and heavy, like each breath weighed a ton. It took a step forward but before its paw hit the ground it winced and growled; the pain was acute. I must have hit something that really hurt, because it shook its mane, sending petals twirling to the ground like snowflakes, and it backed away from me with its eyes never leaving mine, and in seeing that agony on its face I myself grew empathetic, and felt sorry for hurting it, majestic and royal as it was.

    When it left my sight, I relaxed my muscles, feeling the tension from anxiety lingering in my back like a mouth sore, sharp and painful to the touch, constant.

    I walked back to the cave, wiping the dagger of blood with my shirt, and when I curled up to finally sleep¡ªwhich I finally got¡ªa frightening thought crossed my mind.

    Killing was not in my nature.

    Followed by the possibly more scary thought that the beast I had almost died to was still out there, waiting for me, stalking me like the prey I was, ready to do to me what I could never accomplish against it.

 Chapter Twenty-One

    My stay on Clementine is a blur, and much of it has blended together so I can¡¯t recall the order of events nor the exactness of each. I had no one to speak with each day, and by the end of it I was absolutely ready to return to civilization so much that I didn¡¯t really care to think of my days on that Altera forsaken island, so I will use this segment of the story to relay basic information and anecdotes to display what life was, in general, like during my stay on Clementine before I return to the story in its chronology.

    As you plainly gathered from the first day, food was the only thought on my mind. So that was the first problem I went out to solve. My second day was spent searching the half of Clementine I had available to me for plantlife of some kind, so I did. I used my dagger to make marks on trees so I¡¯d remember where I had been, and made my rounds on the island during the brightest hours of the day.

    And I found nothing.

    I found plants that grew, sure, and plenty of flowers colored by painters dreams. I found mushrooms blooming on all sorts of surfaces, all fluorescent and bright, filled with an ethereal light which sent chills up and down my spine. I found insects of all sorts roaming the island, and rodents which ran the moment I saw them, and birds who flew too far for me to follow. And I found pawprints, too large for me to stand in, too familiar for me to linger near.

    But I found no apples, no oranges. No grapes nor nuts. Nothing I knew to be edible grew naturally on Clementine.

    The sun was nearly set on the second day, and I returned to my cave, ridiculously tired but also alert due to the starvation kicking in, or at least the idea of it. It had only been two full days since I had eaten, a little more, but it was the idea that I was going to starve that kept me awake and alert, unable to relax.

    And in that racing of my mind, an idea eventually struck me as a decent one.

    Though I couldn¡¯t kill an animal, and there were no plants, I was surrounded by water, and there was a river which ran through the middle of Clementine, going through the mountains I had made my home in. The sun was still in view when I reached the river, unsure of how exactly to go about getting a fish, and even less sure of how to create a fire after I had one. Eating raw fish seemed like a poor idea.

    I entered the river once I removed my clothes, only holding onto my dagger so I might be able to get a fish that way. There were plenty of fish in the river, and they all looked edible, which encouraged me, confirming my decision to be a sound one. Fishing would keep me alive.

    If I could catch one.

    I quickly found my speed to be no match for the speed of a fish underwater, and I left the river with my proverbial ears drooping low.

    Just as I was about to leave the river, my foot hit something hard, and when I looked down I saw a line of shells along the rocks on the side of the river. Looking closer showed me that they were what appeared to be mussels, which was something served infrequently back in Persea. And I felt like crying seeing them, because I remembered hearing long ago that they were fine to eat raw.

    Mussels were as close to apples as I was going to get.

    So I grabbed one from where it was, shaking the water off of it, then I tried prying it open with my fingers. That didn¡¯t work as well as I had hoped, so I bashed it open with the butt of my dagger. Sage would probably not be too happy with that, since he was so fond of it, but I needed food then and there. Once it was busted open and the shell fell to the ground, I grabbed the meat with my slimy hands and sent it into my mouth and directly down my throat, not wasting time chewing it. Seafood isn¡¯t normally something I crave, shellfish especially. And it would have definitely been better cooked in a broth or something.

    But that was the tastiest thing I¡¯ve ever had in my whole life.

    Knowing then that I had a source of food that would remain with me for thirty days, I grabbed a few more and ate them, then decided to head back and sleep. My second day was successful, and I wasn¡¯t even threatened by a predator like the first day. Suddenly, thirty days didn¡¯t seem so bad.

    The next week perhaps, maybe more maybe less, went by without any real issues or crazy things happening. My general routine was to grab some mussels when I woke up, then I¡¯d search the immediate area around those mountains to see if that weird flower monster was around, then when I couldn¡¯t find it I¡¯d attempt to train alone. Considering I was still so new to actually trying to get stronger, and Sage left me all alone, understand that my training was not really helpful during this time. In general, I would do do physical exercise like running and climbing things, I¡¯d go for a swim in the river and see if I could actually catch a fish to no luck as usual, and I¡¯d swing my dagger around a bit, pretend fighting someone who wasn¡¯t there, dodging them when I felt they¡¯d attack and swiping when an opening was presented. Then I¡¯d go down to the river again, engorge on the mussels which were slowly becoming less delicious but simultaneously more necessary, drink some of that odd but cool water, check the perimeter again and head to sleep.

    For five to eight days, I did this without interruption, issues, or problems. I received no injuries, wasn¡¯t hunted, didn¡¯t hunt any animals or birds just the fish I couldn¡¯t catch, and that was that. Sure I¡¯d ponder what Sage was doing, or how Conifer and Rose were, what my mother was up to. And when the sun set, those thoughts would run wild, tearing through my head and leaving scars on my heart. And despite all that, I don¡¯t remember any of them; they were all the imaginations of a lonely, bored boy.

    Once those days passed, however, I met that monster again. It was getting close to sun down, and everything had a pinkish hue to it. I was coming around the side of the mountain which housed my cave when I saw the beast, still limping, attempting to climb up the mountain opposite of mine. My heart began racing, and despite its obviously poor condition I felt it would attack me if it saw me, so I crouched down and hid where the ground was bumpy and rocky.

    The only way to the river was to pass this mountain, unless I wanted to travel further into the forest. I could have done that, but I¡¯m a stubborn man and was a stubborn boy, so I stayed there, watching it keep sliding down, digging his massive claws into that mountain side like its life depended on it. It did this until the sun finished setting, at which point it slid to the bottom of the mountain in a wet slide made of its blood droplets, shook its flowery mane in ignominy, and sulked away on wobbling legs, deep into the forestry and away from me. When I was sure it was gone for good, I returned to my cave and wondered what it had been doing that for.

    And I continued to wonder, each passing day, as I would return home and witness the same ordeal, a trial of futility. Seeing a predators wings so neatly clipped should have given me a sense of satisfaction, or at least let me feel good about surviving those thirty days. Instead, though, each time I saw it slide back down after a particularly stellar attempt, I¡¯d feel pangs of regret, even a desire to help somehow. I was unsure why.

    Before I knew it, the evening ritual was for me to hide away and watch the attempt to climb that sheer mountain wall, and carry the disappointment back to my cave where I¡¯d ponder the situation. The thought that kept returning to me, the one I¡¯d ask over and over again without answer, was shouldn''t I just go over and try and help? The beast had at least stopped its horrible bleeding, but even so it was still in pain and not getting better with these attempts. I should help.

    Then its eyes would flash in my head, and I¡¯d whimper in that cold island home and attempt to sleep through the marish night.

    On an evening watch of the creature¡¯s boorish climb and fall routine, I had grown weary of hiding as I had been and without realizing it sat down on a rock in plain sight, watching it climb and slide, climb and slide, wheezing with each and every step, when I heard a call in the sky far away from where I sat. I didn¡¯t think much of it; it must have been birds. But soon, there was a response of another bird, calling back. And it crescendoed into such a cacophony that it surprised me that the creature kept climbing, unperturbed by the weight of the sound.

    In me rose a primal fear that screamed.

    From behind me, the call had become thunderous, and a cloud of birds zoomed over me and dove straight for the creature. And when they landed, I realized it was in more danger than I could have imagined.

    They were massive, each bird the size of an adult woman, their wings double that length. Their feathers were long and dark, speckled with red that was either blood or a part of their coat, I couldn¡¯t tell. The feathers around their head grew more fine, more rusty, a brownish red the color of dried blood, and their golden eyes twitched in all directions, searching and searching for poachers encroaching their own poaching.

    I ran toward them, and felt my heart pounding so hard it nearly gave me a headache. Drawing my dagger, I took as deep and calm a breath as I could despite the situation in an attempt to remain calm, and tried to physically pull out the Vastmire in me. There had to be somewhere between ten and thirteen of them, which meant that I had to be fast and precise, something I couldn¡¯t be without more help.

    Closing my eyes for just a second, I called to it from inside my head, searching with my feelings deep inside me for that hidden strength. When I thought I had it, I opened my eyes and leapt at the first one from behind and sliced at its back. I was there in time, and the dagger glided through its spine with the ease I¡¯d come to expect of it, though in a battle like this it gave me butterflies. Pivoting on my foot, I went for the next one and felt my enthusiasm dwindle.

    The Vastmire wasn¡¯t there to help me. I couldn¡¯t access it on my own.

    The entire flock of big ugly seagulls turned their dull heads toward me, a new and obviously unprepared enemy with enough meat to be dessert at the very least. They clacked their beaks with an almost inquisitive sound, like a group of children seeing something for the first time.

    While they did this, I drove the dagger into the nearest one and pulled up, slicing it open through its ribcage. I had no chance of getting through this if I stood around watching them watching me. They all turned their heads to their friends new corpse, and in that moment I sliced at the next one''s neck, nearly decapitating it.

    I wasn¡¯t that strong on my own. I resolved to thank Sage profusely for the dagger he¡¯d given me.

    After the third attack, I felt a beak clamp down on my arm and pulled away fast. Blood welled where my skin had been, and I wanted desperately to see what the damage was but was too preoccupied.

    Instead, I backed up, eyeing the remainder to see who would come at me first. They had created a semi circle, stepping away from the creature and moving towards me, recognizing me as their one and only opponent.

    I took a deep, shaky breath and gripped the dagger tighter.

    In that instant, the rightmost bird launched at me and knocked me to the ground in surprise. By this I mean, it didn¡¯t touch me at all. I was so surprised by the sudden movement I fell over, onto my back like a turtle, dagger held up in a feeble attempt at defense. It missed me with its beak, expecting me to be much taller than I was at that moment, and using this I cut its belly from below, raining blood all over my right arm and shoulder, flecks getting on my face. I was very lucky to have none get in my eyes.

    Crawling out from under that one, I was greeted with two sets of beaks clapping at me hungrily. Reacting without thinking, I sliced at the beaks, which could have gone poorly had my dagger not been so ridiculously sharp. It sliced straight through them, leaving them mouthless and confused and in more pain than I could possibly imagine, gurgling out garbled caws that held a tinge of fear and imminent death. If I had time, I would have put them out of their misery. But there were still six birds left.

    Getting up, I immediately ducked under a bird talon and swiped at it, missing barely and just nicking their leg. It swiped its wing at me in a wide hook and I cut off feathers, finding no meat to slice. Behind me I felt two talons hook deeply into my shoulders, and I grabbed at them fruitlessly trying to pull them free. They held tight, and soon the beat of the birds wings began pulling us into the air. So I ducked my head and awkwardly sliced the dagger at the leg holding my left shoulder and heard an ear piercing screech above me. It let go of my right shoulder, leaving its foot and some ankle on my left shoulder.

    Running back in toward the one I had been fighting, I ducked under a wing and pulled right, then spun awkwardly into a slice that cut its belly but didn¡¯t kill it. The bird did fly off toward the other one though.

    The remaining four started to back off, and I was breathing heavy with the amount of energy I had expended, none of it using Vastmire. I wiped my mouth with my wrist, smearing blood on my face. Pointing my dagger at them, I shouted, ¡°Go on! Get out of here already, you ugly pile of feathers!¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    They stared at me, blinking those ugly gold orbs at me, unmoving save for the shake of wings here, a low gurgling caw there. I took a step forward and they took a few back. I smirked, unable to contain my pride.

    Suddenly from behind them, the beast they had been attacking had gotten up onto its feet and let out a roar so loud it shook the ground we stood on. I thought the mountains would fall over. My hands went straight to my ears, cupping them futilely, and the remaining birds flew into the air and away.

    The beast I had been protecting looked at me with blood soaked eyes, somehow maintaining a sense of royal composure despite its severe injuries. Wobbling towards me, it knelt down strangely, as if it acknowledged me.

    My body almost gave out when I heard it say, ¡°Thank you,¡± its voice an all consuming baritone that shook my bones the same way Conifer vibrated strings.

    A noise came out of me that sounded something like, ¡°Duah?¡± or, ¡°Hermph?¡±

    It¡ªwhich I now assumed was a male, so he¡ªwas limping away when I jogged over on busted legs and said, ¡°Wait, wait, wait a second here. You can talk?¡±

    ¡°Not this again,¡± he groaned, less from pain and more from annoyance. ¡°First you come here uninvited, now you¡¯re a country bumpkin. And you saved me. I¡¯ve had enough humiliation for a lifetime from you.¡±

    I went to ask again but before a sound could leave my throat he growled, ¡°Leave. Me. Be.¡±

    And I did, for all of a few seconds.

    Well, I shouldn¡¯t say that. I planned on leaving him alone for much longer, after all. I already wasn¡¯t in the business of putting my life in danger on purpose, and he had shown me already that he could rip me apart in ways that would require more words in the human vocabulary to describe without being grotesquely inadequate in its imagery or understanding of the sheer agony he would bestow upon me. So when he said leave him alone, I figured I should.

    Instead I toppled to the ground, falling on my right side. I looked up and saw the talon in my left shoulder was still holding on tightly, and I went to pull it off with my arm and saw a nasty gash that caved inward toward the muscle from where a beak had clamped me.

    Seeing the injuries sent the message through my body that I should be in pain. Being unprepared for this sort of thing, I blacked out and woke up later in my cave with the monster hovering by the entryway, guarding it. When I looked at my shoulder, the talons were removed and I had some leaves covering it. I went to check my arm but a massive, yet gentle paw pressed down on me. He was there, shaking his flowery head at me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± he growled. ¡°I put those on you with care, but they aren¡¯t tied down or anything. If you move too much, they won¡¯t heal you as well as they could and you will be in a lot of trouble.¡±

    As if I wasn¡¯t already.

    I went to speak to him but he pressed down a little harder, snorted air in my face, and went back to his spot at the entrance. I passed out shortly after, too much energy lost from trying to heal my body and from fighting those bird creatures to stay awake. It was restless sleep; I would wake up in sweat, look around and see he wasn¡¯t there. Then I¡¯d pass out and wake up again, sprawled awkwardly and painfully across the cold cave floor, and he would be back in his spot, paws folded and head down, statuesque in his manner.

    When I finally woke up for real, I was unsure of what day it was and knew only that the sun was out, he was gone, and I was hungry. Getting up, I brushed the leaves he had on me off, or what few were left, and checked my injuries. The gash on my arm was filling, slowly turning into a scab. Which meant not only was it healing, but more time had passed than I thought. My shoulder seemed alright, but I couldn¡¯t get a proper view of it and figured I would get one at the river when I grabbed a bunch of mussels.

    Leaving the cave, I felt for my dagger to make sure it was there and shambled toward the river when I saw the monster once again attempting to climb the mountain. Seeing this, something deep inside me told me I should stop and go talk to him, and it definitely wasn¡¯t curiosity.

    I was angry.

    ¡°Oy!¡± I called to him, standing ten steps away as he slipped back down the mountain, digging those claws into the ground to no avail.

    He turned to me and glowered, eyes glistening in the sun. He didn¡¯t ask me what, but his face got the job done well enough.

    ¡°I see you doing this every day,¡± I said, a bite in my voice I wasn¡¯t expecting. ¡°Why are you wasting your time with this? You keep reopening your injuries this way. You can¡¯t climb that sheer wall. Just relax down here, I¡¯ve seen you move. You can hunt and live here forever, no problem.¡±

    He glared at me for a moment before turning around and continuing to climb. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡±

    Grimacing, I shrugged and said, ¡°No, I guess not. If I knew you were going to give up your life like this, I probably would have just let those bird guys eat you.¡±

    That got him to stop for a second, a few pebbles skipping down the mountain in that unsettling silence. ¡°I thanked you already, and I repaid you. Now leave me.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t order me around,¡± I said, moving in closer to him. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I¡¯m a prince, and if you try and order me around you¡¯ll be sorry.¡±

    ¡°You stupid kid,¡± he grunted, clawing for a foot hold and not finding one. ¡°You might be a prince in your homeland, and good for you. But here you are nothing but food. Go find your place, and be there. I¡¯m sure if you went back to your kingdom you could relax some, your body looks more used to that than life outdoors.¡±

    As he slid down, slowly and pitifully, I grew more aggravated than I had felt the entire time I had been on that island. It¡¯s not that I was used to getting my way. After months of not getting my way at all, learning my way was never exactly what it had been in the first place, and in general getting the butt end of the blade for months, I was used to not getting my way at all by this point. You might even say I expected it.

    But expecting and accepting aren¡¯t the same thing.

    I wasn¡¯t ready to accept this creature¡¯s indignance. It was obviously intelligent, it had to know it was being foolish. And if he wasn¡¯t aware, I had to make him aware.

    ¡°You¡¯re acting like more of a child than I am,¡± I said, after taking a long, deep breath and steadying my hand. It remained on the dagger all the same, gripping and letting go of the hilt rhythmically.

    ¡°Oh?¡± he grunted, ready for another go at climbing the sheer wall of mountain. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to climb a mountain that would be difficult to climb for any creature, strong or otherwise, and you¡¯re doing so without letting your body heal. I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s up there, and you¡¯re right, I probably wouldn¡¯t understand what you¡¯ve gone through or what¡¯s driving you to be this irrational.¡± He actually stopped, doing a little pounce to the ground and walking toward me with the inquisitive grace of a cat ready to ingest a mouse. ¡°I do think, however, you should at least give it a rest and let your body recuperate. It¡¯s foolish to destroy yourself before you can reach the top.¡± His eyes were hot, filled with anger and boring holes through my own. ¡°I could even help you reach the top if you want me to. I haven¡¯t got much to do, I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a better way to get up there.¡±

    He continued glaring, but I had said my piece and was ready for whatever he wanted to do. Besides, his body was torn up more than mine. I was the one who saved him, after all, not the other way around. I could take him if it came to that.

    Instead, though, he turned his face downward, as if the words I said knocked him so. ¡°I apologize for what I said before, child,¡± he whispered, his voice still loud enough to carry over the wind. ¡°Your voice is reason where mine iss misguided. Your offer to find another way up, while nice, is futile; there is no other way to the top than this.¡±

    I frowned, analyzing the mountain with a more scrutinous eye than I had before. It was as if the entire thing was rubbed clean and sanded down to be perfectly smooth, there were no rocks or jutting formations or any holds to grab. ¡°This mountain is unnatural,¡± I said, half serious.

    ¡°It is,¡± he agreed. ¡°This mountain is where the golden king, Dil, lives.¡±

    That made no sense to me so right away I said, ¡°No man lives here, though. It¡¯s only animals and other such creatures.¡±

    I¡¯ll never forget how subtle it was the first time I saw that creature smile at me, its eyes creased slightly, its nose crinkled, and a large, single fang protruding from its half moon mouth. ¡°You assume all kings are men.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not?¡± I asked as we walked away from that mountain, the newfound knowledge that someone or something lived on it now leaving me with a dread I hadn¡¯t felt previously.

    ¡°Of course not, just as not all beasts are monsters and not all monsters are beasts, and not all prey are predators and vice versa.¡±

    We made it back to the cave, and when he laid his body down, his chest slapped the floor with a resounding echo, loud enough to make me flinch. He didn¡¯t speak then, just passed into sleep slowly. When I was sure he wasn¡¯t going to wake up, I went back to the river, perusing for mussels as I usually did, eating some there and returning with a few to eat later and share with him if he wanted some.

    He woke up the moment I got ten steps away from the entrance. His eyes shot open, adjusted to my presence, then drooped slowly into understanding.

    ¡°You awake?¡± I asked, clacking the shells I held in my hands in a nervous rhythm.

    He grunted a yes, eyeing the mussels. ¡°You bring river trash?¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s food. I had some before I got here, if you want some you can¡ª¡±

    Without replying, he got up and walked out, shaking his head. I called out but he didn¡¯t turn at all, and I found myself jogging after him, dropping a mussel or two on the way.

    ¡°Something the matter?¡± I asked. ¡°Are mussels offensive to your kind?¡±

    Grimacing, he asked, ¡°You haven¡¯t only been eating those things, have you?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°I haven¡¯t got any tools to help me hunt, and when I was trying to figure out a food source I found that I was in the hunting territory of a predator.¡±

    ¡°A predator? Who?¡±

    I smirked. ¡°I¡¯m talking with him.¡±

    His face grew harder, but he shook his mane out all the same. ¡°So I frightened you into eating trash?¡±

    ¡°Hey, say that after you taste them. They¡¯re not that bad. They¡¯ve kept me alive this whole time, though I guess my ribs are starting to show a little these days.¡±

    Sighing, he said, ¡°I know you are trying to be nice. But those things aren¡¯t enough to keep me alive, or yourself for that matter.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still here, aren¡¯t I?¡± I said, popping another mussel. If he wasn¡¯t going to eat them, I definitely was. My stomach wouldn¡¯t stop growling.

    Suddenly, he crouched down, staying low in the undergrowth. My eyes followed his, and saw he was staring down a rabbit. I went still, holding the mussels so carefully that I couldn¡¯t hear their shells anymore, and I waited for what was coming.

    It happened between breaths, in that small soundless moment. He burst from the bushes with such fluidity that despite the power behind his movement, he made little noise. The cries of death from his prey were equally small, subdued and caught in its killers mouth, an echo chamber. He held down with his teeth until the rabbit went still, and he placed it down on the ground with a proud look in his eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯re here,¡± he said, continuing as if we never stopped speaking. ¡°But are you alive?¡±

    We ate the rabbit together, and his portion had to have barely been a snack for him considering his size. Mine was uncooked, with fur still on some pieces. The meat was sparse and had little fat, leaving us with little flavor to savor. I chewed slowly, feeling off. If I had been served rabbit back in the world of civilization, I¡¯d have sent it back, especially uncooked.

    By the time I was finished eating my portion, my energy levels were already heightened. The taste wasn¡¯t as good as the mussels were uncooked, but I couldn¡¯t deny the amount of strength I suddenly had and I wanted more. I needed more.

    But I couldn¡¯t figure out how to ask him how to hunt.

    Instead I asked his name.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t been called any name in years,¡± he said slowly, as if the wrong word could kill him. ¡°Besides of course the slurs I catch from the beasts Dil sends down to kill me.¡±

    ¡°What do you refer to yourself as when you think then?¡± I asked.

    He shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t really refer to myself when I think.¡±

    Frustrated, I furrowed my brow and circled him, looking at his features and trying to discern a name from them. Before he could ask what I was doing, I asked him, ¡°What kind of flowers are those in your mane?¡±

    ¡°Chrysanthemums,¡± he chimed, almost happily.

    Nodding, I settled on a name. ¡°Chrys will do then, I think.¡±

    I could see the uncertainty on his face and I said, ¡°Unless of course you have a better name. I can¡¯t keep saying you to you unless you consent.¡±

    His tooth popped out in a small smile. ¡°I consent. Chrys will do for now, at least.¡±

    Outside of these few conversations, we didn¡¯t actually speak much. Or rather, he didn¡¯t speak much. Chrys kept to himself, only getting up to hunt meat and keep watch. I¡¯d ask him all sorts of questions¡ªhow he could talk, how come he had flowers on his mane, and why he hadn¡¯t killed me yet. The only one he actually decided to answer was the last one, and his answer boiled down to, ¡°Because.¡±

    I think we spent about three or four days together like that.

    My days were mainly spent exploring the island, specifically the area surrounding the mountains to see if there were any trails or some such way to ascend the rock walls, but I found nothing of interest. I think Chrys thought it was funny that I was searching intensely for something that didn¡¯t seem to affect me. The days were growing longer, though, despite the sun setting sooner. I needed something to occupy my time, and the incessant thoughts regarding those I left behind plagued my nights too often for me not to try and find some form of outlet to escape in.

    Now I know what you are probably wondering. What about my training for accessing the Vastmire? Well that¡¯s easy, I didn¡¯t care about that after a while.

    Being young often leaves you with this weak, easily snapped will that has no way of surviving hardship. I was cursed with such a will for longer than I care to admit. So maybe after a week of trying to get the Vastmire to come out of me and not reaching it, and not even getting it to aid me in my defense of Chrys, I gave up on trying to find it. Some part of me believed that it wasn¡¯t in me at all, that what had happened on Mango was some sort of fluke. That I should be dead.

    There was one question I did ask Chrys that he answered, now that I think about it. One night, when the cold winds blew and I found myself lying closer to Chrys than he cared for, I asked him, ¡°Have you heard of Vastmire?¡±

    I felt a muscle in his body spasm, and the air seemed to wrap me in a thin sheet of ice. His voice crept into my ears with an eerie quietude that sent my spine into jitters.

    ¡°My life,¡± he said, ¡°has been a long one, longer than you could fathom though it is truthfully not so. And in my early years, I travelled all over the Tamarind Sea, searching for adventure to ease my boyhood dreams. There was one such man I met who was gifted with Vastmire, and he was great. Fantastic even. I followed him all over, and soon I became his favorite emissary. His strength was immeasurable, it was as if he were some sovereign deity. I was foolish to think he wouldn¡¯t use it.¡±

    In the silence that followed, I asked, ¡°Where is he now?¡±

    Chrys didn¡¯t say anything, he just stared up towards the top of the mountain, his eyes blazing with cold fury.

 Chapter Twenty-Two

    Roughly a week passed in this way, myself and Chrys living quietly together despite the tension felt between us, or at least the tension held in myself when I was around him. Chrys was still the hulking, bulk of monster muscle he was when I met him, only now he was feeding me the fresh game he¡¯d catch while scoffing at my mussels and napping a lot. It was strange, and felt all too unnatural for me. I kept a close watch on the amount of days I had left to endure, and kept a closer eye on Chrys in case he decided he wasn¡¯t satisfied by the meat he¡¯d been eating and was simply fattening me up for a glorious dinner.

    On the sixth or seventh day, we were both in a state of feeling better but not completely fixed. My wounds were in the process of closing completely and regenerating, and my right arm was beginning to finally steady after being overused when I fought Bitter, while Chrys was also dealing with plenty of recently shut gashes all over his torso from the onslaught of attacks those large bird creatures were inflicting on him. We could move just fine, and there wasn¡¯t a constant throb of pain, but they were still certainly wounds that could and would easily reopen and heal poorly if we weren¡¯t careful. I was being as careful as possible by this point, not only due to these things but also just because I had had my fill of exploration, and the idea of helping Chrys had lost its sheen hours after it had occurred to me. If he was as intelligent as he seemed, then there was no way he hadn¡¯t checked every possible route up that mountain. And I only had maybe ten days left on that island at that point. Once Sage came and picked me up, my time spent there would all be a distant memory. The fate of some monster on a deserted island wouldn¡¯t matter to me in the least.

    It was around midday, the sun was high and beating gently on us with a heat so subdued you could practically taste the winter in the air. I was relaxing a few feet to the side of the entrance of our cave, enjoying the sun idly and trying to find the brighter side in my being there. Chrys lay at the entrance, a low snore lumbering through his nostrils every few seconds, not so loud that it annoyed you but quiet enough to be rhythmic noise that brought you to sleep with it, wrapping us up in a moment that was too short regardless of when it ended.

    How it ended ruined everything.

    A piercing boom of thunder rolled out in a cacophony of sonic vomit, bringing me to attention fast enough to see Chrys get launched into the rear of the cave with enough force to crack bones. The mountain shook with the impact, and I ran to see it was a massive bird creature similar to the ones who attacked before, though this one was much bigger, at least a full two steps taller and wider, its wings bent awkwardly in that cave just to fit. It screeched, a malevolence bouncing around the cave walls and getting louder by the second.

    I acted as fast and unthinking as possible, not purposefully but reactively. That sound was so horrendous I thought if I let it continue my heart might explode from the vibrations. It was alien, otherworldly, and the pain it inflicted was too.

    Drawing Sage¡¯s dagger, I drove it into the creatures back and pulled up and diagonal, the idea being that something important was likely to be hit in that arc.

    The creature turned, its beak clacking with a primeval hunger, drool dripping like acid to the floor, burning all it touched and sending me a step back, then two, then three. I held tight to the dagger, pointing it outward in hopes it would be frightened.

    It obviously wasn¡¯t.

    But in the time it spent looking at me, Chrys was on it. He mauled the birds neck, shaking it back and forth so fast I couldn¡¯t see it through the blur of motion. Trying to shake Chrys off, the bird slammed its back into the back wall of the little cave. Then it slammed again. And again. And again. The first slam had me worried, but I was so shaken that it hadn¡¯t reacted to my initial attack that my knees only shook. I couldn¡¯t move.

    That fourth slam brought out a cry from Chrys so infantile it made my chest ache, and I think I screamed. The bird screeched and drowned out my sounds in a sea of sonic agony, and I found myself stabbing and stabbing like a murderer, blood flecks painting the walls a reddish green, coating my face in its heat, until I couldn¡¯t hear its sound any longer.

    In all, the attack lasted probably thirty seconds.

    It took longer to get the birds body off of Chrys, who was breathing hard and surrounded by flowers that had crumpled and fallen off his mane. I asked if he was alright; he nodded.

    We were about to see if we could drag the body out of the cave when we heard a crackling in the wall, and it started to fall apart and crumble. We got out of the way, going back to the entrance of the cave and watching the debris bury the massive attacker. When the walls finished falling and the air cleared, my jaw dropped and I heard Chrys speak.

    ¡°Is that what I think it is?¡± he asked, his voice still heavy from the attack.

    I nodded, and he walked over the debris as a makeshift stairway, leading up to an actual staircase. Behind the cave was a room, hidden away the entire time inside our mountain home. Chrys and I began our ascent immediately. The surprise and the curiosity of it overtook my desire to find a new spot to hide, or just to rest in general. The stairs were there, and I wanted to know why.

    ¡°You¡¯re not hurt badly then?¡± I asked Chrys after a while of climbing. There was no light in there, and I had both my hands sliding against the cold rock walls to help me find my way.

    ¡°I am fine,¡± he said, dismissive.

    ¡°Okay, good,¡± I said. Then I asked, ¡°So why would the stairs be here? This is the wrong mountain right?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re correct,¡± he said. ¡°But if this is the way up then there must be a way to get to Dil¡¯s peak, I¡¯m sure of it.¡±

    I nodded, not asking further. A way across seemed unreasonable to me since the bird creatures he was sending down could all fly, so there was no real need for a bridge, or even these stairs. So if the stairs had no right to exist, I thought, I may as well give up on looking into all this. It might make sense when we reach the top.

    Maybe.

    The longer we moved in silence the more my mind began working, and I realized that giant bird never once tried to attack me.

    ¡°What was that bird¡¯s reason for attacking you? Just a grudge or something?¡±

    Chrys slowed a little but didn¡¯t stop walking.

    ¡°I¡¯m only asking since the thing never tried attacking me at all. And before, those crazy bird things were attacking you when you were trying to get to the top of the mountain. Why are you such a threat? I don¡¯t get it. You don¡¯t even have wings.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve already talked about how you wouldn¡¯t understand this conflict, prince,¡± he growled, curt.

    ¡°Yes, but if I¡¯m going to climb this mountain with you I think I should know what¡¯s going on up there.¡±

    ¡°No one asked you to climb with me,¡± he said, speeding up a little.

    I grabbed for his leg and he tried to whip around to roar at me, but the stairway was so narrow that he could only turn his head, mitigating his rebuttal. There was no way for him to turn around and go back. So I held his leg firmly, without fear.

    Well, okay maybe a little fear.

    ¡°No one asked you to live with me, or share your food, or your company,¡± I said, determination in my voice. ¡°But you did it all anyway. Just as I saved you without asking, and now I¡¯ll accompany you up this mountain.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve nothing to gain from this,¡± he said, his eyes hard and shimmering in that blue darkness.

    ¡°That¡¯s true, in some ways,¡± I said. ¡°In others, this will be good for me. I was only sent here to train, and I haven¡¯t really done much of that outside of these little skirmishes. I still can¡¯t use the Vastmire inside me properly, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing at all. I still get hurt needlessly in combat situations, and with a war ready to break out I really can¡¯t afford not to be strong.¡±

    ¡°Then go back down there and train yourself,¡± Chrys said, his voice dwindling. ¡°There¡¯s no reason for you to be¡ª¡±

    ¡°Here? With you? I¡¯ve made my choice and I will die by it. Now tell me why we climb this mountain? What have you done, who have you wronged? I can tell you all about my ridiculous history if you¡¯d like to hear it in exchange.¡±

    When he didn¡¯t answer, I eased my grip on his leg and steepled my hands together, ready to resign and sit down.

    I was about to say one last thing when he said, ¡°Come, we must keep going.¡±

    Once we were back to walking, he said, ¡°At the top of this mountain is someone who controls all life on this island, and is preparing to control all life on this planet.¡±

    I tensed up at that, and he felt it even from behind him in that darkness.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, the process seems to be taking forever. I¡¯m not sure they even want to do that anymore, they¡¯ve been up there so long. Maybe they just want to get rid of me.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡±

    With a heavy sigh, he said, ¡°I¡¯m a liability. Unfinished business. The man who lives at the peak helped make me who I am today, but I didn¡¯t agree with their ideals and decided I wouldn¡¯t help him take over the world or create more beings like me. When I said this, he threw me off the mountain and I¡¯ve lived alone down there ever since.¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, confused. ¡°He threw you off the top of this mountain?¡±

    ¡°Not this one,¡± he said, unfazed. ¡°The one neighboring it, remember?¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah, of course,¡± I said. ¡°But how come you didn¡¯t die? These things are really tall! There¡¯s no way something could survive being tossed off one like garbage. You should be dead.¡±

    He nodded, I think. ¡°I should be dead, yeah. Sometimes I wish I was so I could just be done with all this. But now I can finish things myself, and prove who was correct all those years ago.¡±

    Chrys wasn¡¯t much for maintaining the conversation, it seemed.

    ¡°So you¡¯re just going to go to the top, storm this man¡¯s castle, beat up all his bird guys, then kill him?¡±

    ¡°That about sums it up,¡± he said as we finally came upon a landing which stretched for a few steps and had a lamp sitting, unlit but filled with oil. Chrys clawed the wall and made a spark flicker into the oil, setting the lamp alight dimly, yet so bright it forced my eyes shut. ¡°Carry that so we may see,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯ve no hands to do so.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± I said, rubbing my eyes before grabbing the lamp by its base, careful to not tip it over. ¡°What are you going to do after you kill this guy then?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± he asked. I repeated the question, and he was silent for a while.

    ¡°I can¡¯t leave this island,¡± he said. ¡°So I suppose I¡¯ll just stay here, live out my days and enjoy my time.¡±

    ¡°That sounds pretty boring,¡± I said. ¡°Especially when you won¡¯t have anything to fight after that. You¡¯ll be a king here, but of nothing.¡±

    ¡°Your perspective is a little skewed, but I see your point,¡± he said, smiling. ¡°As I said, though, I can¡¯t leave here. I¡¯m tied to the soil of this island.¡±

    ¡°Tied to the soil? Sounds pretentious to me,¡± I mused. ¡°Why not come with me when I leave? You¡¯re not bad in a fight, and we could use all the help we can get.¡±

    ¡°Tied to the soil isn¡¯t some turn of phrase,¡± he chided. ¡°I mean that my body is tied to this island, I can¡¯t leave it. If I were to swim in the ocean, or take a boat across it or anything, even fly, I would die. Slowly, probably. I haven¡¯t tried it so it¡¯s speculation, but I would most definitely die.¡±

    I laughed at that, more so than I should have. Being away from civilization made humor, small as it may be, make me laugh way more than I had before.

    ¡°Something amusing you, prince?¡± he growled, stopping to turn his head in that narrow stairway.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t tried,¡± I said, wheezing¡ªwheezing! I never wheeze. ¡°Yet you assume you¡¯ll die? That¡¯s just stupid, Chrys. Why not go for a swim and see if you can breathe after a few minutes.¡±

    Growling louder so it rumbled against the walls, he said, ¡°It was said to me by the man at the top of the mountain.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Well I don¡¯t believe him, it sounds pretty ridiculous to me,¡± I snickered. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of some wild spells in my day, read plenty of books on the magic of foreign lands, but no land in Tamarind has magic that can tie you to a place for good. That¡¯s just silly fairy tale words.¡±

    Chrys growled, but eased up before sighing and mumbling, ¡°Fairy, indeed.¡± Then we continued our ascent in silence. I was determined to get him to come with me after everything was done. I may have saved Chrys twice while I was there, but he was strong. Probably stronger than Sage in terms of raw physical power. And he was intelligent, which meant a lot for the battles I¡¯d need him in. He could be some sort of beast advisor. And that would be neat, right? Me, a prince, taking war advice from a mythical mammalian companion.

    And I was the one making fun of him for fairy tale notions.

    We continued up those steps in absolute silence, save for the sound of my stomach growling or the scrape of our bodies against the wall where we would frequently bump into. I¡¯m not sure how long we climbed, it could have been the entire day, maybe more. Time moves differently without the sun or the moon to guide it, and the dim light of the lamp was no pocket watch.

    When we reached landings, of which there were few and far between, I would ask to rest for a moment and Chrys wouldn¡¯t reply, he¡¯d just stop and tap a claw against the stone floor, impatient and wanting to move. After no time passed at all, I¡¯d grab the lamp once more and we¡¯d be on our way, him leading the way at a pace all too fast for the height we were clearing. I¡¯ve seen taller mountains since the climb Chrys and I did that day, but nothing really prepares you for a sudden thing like this. And I was too submissive back then, I took no charge when it came to taking proper breaks or eating or anything. I just kept following Chrys¡¯ back, ready to do whatever it meant to help him out.

    The top of the steps was so breathtaking Chrys actually spoke.

    He said, ¡°Get ready,¡± voice low yet excited.

    I wasn¡¯t sure what that entailed, so I nodded and grabbed a hold of my dagger, keeping my elbows bent into my stomach in an unnecessary and largely unhelpful defensive maneuver, something I did often during my formative years.

    The cold air hit us like a cannon, and I almost couldn¡¯t stand from lack of energy mixing with the windchill and sheer force of it all hitting me like that. Managing to stand was only due to the view, which was unlike anything I¡¯d ever seen. Chrys stood in front of me, surveying the empty air separating us and the mountain peak across from us like a river of small, mostly transparent clouds which coasted along beneath us, so sparse they would have seemed to be fog at a lower elevation. The snow at our feet was fresh, untouched, the purest white in nature, but not so bright you couldn¡¯t look at it. The sunsetting hidden behind another mountain helped with that.

    The mountain across from us, our presumed destination, was topped with a defiant castle whose architecture defied natural law. It extended outward, hanging over air as if it floated above the clouds, and made the mountain almost comically tall compared to the one we stood atop. It had no windows as far as I could see, no drawbridge or door, no visible entrance of any kind. I frowned; now that we were here, how would we get in?

    Looking at the open air we had to cross, my heart sunk further. I saw the lamp had gone out and placed it on the ground neatly at the top of the stairs, so it wouldn¡¯t fall over or be buried in the snow.

    I wanted to ask Chrys what we should do, but he looked satisfied standing there, his fur blowing fiercely like he was covered in ocean waves. The flowers in his mane stood firm, and his gaze never left the castle. He was ready to get there, regardless of what it meant.

    In that moment, the world was silenced, so quiet it was all you could do not to notice that silence, and Chrys broke it like a boulder through a glass palace. He roared out a challenge so deep and bold that I¡¯m sure even Sage had to look up from whatever he was doing, iles away though he was. The snow shifted around my feet, and I held my hands to my ears tightly, hoping to keep as much of the sound out as possible. Just when I thought I couldn¡¯t handle the noise anymore, it stopped, dwindling quietly back in Chrys¡¯ throat.

    Carefully lifting my hands from my ears, I trudged over to him, his roar still quietly echoing deep in my head like far off thunderstorms. When I got there, I saw how far his challenge had been heard.

    Four birdmen were soaring across the gap right for us, eight golden orbs coming closer and closer like shooting stars.

    I began to panic and grab for my dagger, but Chrys calmly looked at me and said, ¡°They do not come to fight us.¡±

    I had no reason to believe he knew what their true intentions were, and even if they weren¡¯t there to fight us how would I know they were being pure? Or even purely good? So I didn¡¯t draw my weapon, but my hand stayed on it with familiar firmness.

    The birdmen got there fast, and were on us even faster. They floated above us and¡ªscary as it was¡ªthey gently lowered themselves and grabbed us with genuine care, making sure not to close their talons on any sensitive pieces of the meat they were about to tow. Two of them grabbed me, and the other two grabbed Chrys, though I feel like three may have been better due to the size difference. And as swiftly as they came, we went across the gap.

    I¡¯ve never been afraid of heights. When I was a lot younger than I was in this story¡ªso perhaps forty solstices prior to my writing this¡ªI would often climb all manner of trees and buildings and whatnot, just to do so. And even at this point in the story, when I was almost fourteen years old, I was very eager to climb the mountain to help Chrys take care of whatever he had to do.

    But when you¡¯re being held above the clouds, and the things holding you are vicious, carnivorous, unthinking predator monsters that would haunt the most pleasant dreams and be at home in the most disturbing nightmares, you get a little antsy when you see the possible drop and do all manner of crazy things. Needless to say, I was sweating a lot, and I¡¯m unsure whether or not it was that or maybe they hadn¡¯t grabbed hold of me properly with how much they were trying to not hurt me, but I slipped out of the talon holding my left arm and was dangling by only my right arm. My stomach about dropped out of my feet. I couldn¡¯t even attempt to think straight, I just looked up to see that the bird who let go was staring at me, not in a confused way¡ªmore in a challenging way. He wanted to see what I¡¯d do. This was a test, and definitely not a fairy tale test where my rites of courage lead to fame and glory. No, this was a predator playing with food.

    Seeing this, and thinking absolutely nothing besides that I needed to survive, I swung with more strength than I knew I had and grabbed hold of the birdman¡¯s ankle, the cold wind cutting my skin into paper thin ribbons.

    The birdman¡¯s eyes narrowed into golden slits, then he returned his attention to flying, presumably bored of me. I tried to return my breathing to normal, and decided to keep my eyes shut for the remainder of the trip.

    Once I felt the wingbeat from above me, I opened my eyes and saw we were descending slowly through an entrance on the castle¡¯s roof. I held a hand up to my eyes to help keep the air from burning them, and I looked over to Chrys to see he was about to jump down to the ground.

    When we landed, I immediately rubbed my shoulders where the talons had held them. They weren¡¯t in pain, just uncomfortable, like the expectancy of pain made them hurt in my head and I had to physically remove it with my palms. Chrys was on edge; he was crouched down, his eyes slanted and surveying the lay of the room for, presumably, an enemy, or more specifically, the man we were here to kill. Despite being on his side, I did find it a little overkill. I was just as on edge, perhaps more so considering the enemy at hand, but even I knew an empty hallway when I saw one. It was just me, him, and the two birdmen who flew us there.

    Remembering they were there, I whipped around to see they had turned around to fly away again. One of them looked over his shoulder at Chrys, then shook his head and flew back through the hole in the roof we came from.

    With their wind beating down on me once again, I moved closer to Chrys so that we wouldn¡¯t be too far from each other and I asked, ¡°So, where to now that we¡¯re here? You got any ideas?¡±

    He nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll call for them. Cover your ears.¡±

    He didn¡¯t have to tell me twice. I planted my hands firmly over them and took a few steps back. The second he started roaring, I took twenty more. It was even more unbearable in an enclosed area like that, and I could physically feel the vibrations in my chest. My bones were rattling around like I was just a bag of bones, and I kept wanting to check my palms for blood from my ears. It was a pleasant surprise that they were dry.

    Chrys was still going when a rather dapper looking birdman came around the corner, wearing¡ªas odd as it sounds, trust me it was even stranger in person¡ªthe full black suit of a royal servant, complete with a necktie and expensive looking cufflinks. Holding up a wing, he waved it dismissively and Chrys quieted down.

    ¡°So, you show your face here again,¡± he said, folding his wings like a cape.

    Chrys bared his teeth in a wolfish smile, ¡°I said that I would be here, and so I am. Now take me to your lord, Neres, before I stain this blue carpet black with your blood.¡±

    If he could, I¡¯m sure Neres would have returned the smile. Instead he just nodded, then locked eyes with me. ¡°Who is this? He¡¯s from the mainland.¡±

    Chrys smirked. ¡°He insisted on coming. Just some boy from down below, nothing for you to worry about.¡±

    My mouth was open, but I shut it when Chrys looked at me. He obviously didn¡¯t want me to say anything just yet, so I just nodded to him and kept my hand on my dagger.

    Neres rolled his eyes and turned around. ¡°Right, well this way then. It¡¯s a long walk from here.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Three

    Have you ever lived with something so long that you didn¡¯t realize it was an issue until it seriously became a problem? I¡¯m not talking about a person and their attitude or something like that, I mean a physical issue¡ªor in this case, material¡ªwhich doesn¡¯t manifest until it hurts you as much as possible.

    In this case, I¡¯m referring to the fact that the soles of the boots I had been wearing since my travels began had holes on their bottoms.

    With everything that had been happening up until this point, I hadn¡¯t even noticed that my feet had been actually touching the ground the whole time. I barely noticed during the ascent of those stairs, either. Maybe it was because we were moving faster, or maybe I was too busy to notice. Whatever the case, now that my feet were padding across the ice cold floor of that castle, it was impossible not to focus on it. My feet were almost painfully numb, and each step was becoming increasingly more aggravating than the last one.

    Neres was leading us along without much banter, which I couldn¡¯t blame him for; the castle was absolutely bare. No paintings, no windows, barely any doors to speak of. It was like a nightmare filled with hallways to nowhere, until the last one where a demon pops out in the form of your¡ª

    ¡°Your pet seems to have stopped,¡± Neres said to Chrys, arms folded and an amused look on his face. Chrys was not in as good a mood, and instead scowled at the ground with an indifferent growl.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I grunted, tightening the cloth I¡¯d torn from my shirt around my feet and what was left of my shoes.

    Neres cocked an eyebrow. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°My feet,¡± I glared at him, ¡°are freezing up here. There¡¯s no heat in this place. Why don¡¯t you have torches or anything? A hearth?¡±

    Neres lightly beat his wings at me, then turned and started walking, slowly so I could catch up. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve no need for such things here. Come, we mustn¡¯t keep the king waiting.¡±

    I finished tying my feet up and I sighed. ¡°Your king is probably just too poor to afford fire.¡±

    Chrys moved closer to Neres, still on edge but interested. ¡°He¡¯s waiting on us?¡± he asked, his voice a note away from vicious.

    Neres nodded. ¡°Of course, you expected him to be surprised? How foolish.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect surprise,¡± Chrys grumbled, each step he took making him appear closer and closer to breaking. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was the lack of rest and food, or the long trek up there, or the news that this guy he was going after was already well aware that he was here. Maybe it was all of that, maybe less, maybe more. Chrys was never much for telling me what was going on with him, but even back then when I had barely known him I knew that he was not expecting this. I¡¯m not sure if he had a plan to begin with, but I¡¯m sure he had an image of what was going to happen in his mind, and like all things in your mind it was nothing like the truth.

    Neres just shrugged and kept going, leading us to a door that took us up a staircase¡ªmore stairs! After the mountain, I was ready to never climb a stair again.

    ¡°So if he¡¯s waiting for us,¡± I asked Neres, trying to get my mind off, well, everything, ¡°why are you taking us to him and not trying to off us?¡±

    An avian smile graced Neres¡¯ face. ¡°Well, that would be rude, wouldn¡¯t it? You are guests, after all.¡±

    ¡°Guests?¡± I repeated, confused. ¡°The way Chrys made it sound, this wasn¡¯t so much a visit as it was¡ª¡±

    ¡°Watch your mouth,¡± Chrys glared at me, his eyes saying many things at once. Apparently I wasn¡¯t supposed to ask questions.

    Neres just shrugged. ¡°Well, whatever¡ªChrys, you called him?¡ªsaid, he was mistaken. This is simply a visit, and you will be treated as esteemed guests within the means of our venerable ruler, then sent on your way. Though that will probably be tomorrow, as it is already quite late and I¡¯m sure it would be unseemly to send you both on a long journey in the dead of night, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Still wanting to talk, I shivered and asked, ¡°So you guys follow the rules of hospitality then?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Neres said with an airy laugh. ¡°Why I do believe everyone in the civilized world does, young man. You¡¯ve nothing to fear in this home, we will provide food, drink, shelter, and of course merriment for you both. If I¡¯m not mistaken, we will have some entertainment while we eat our dinner and it shall be wonderful. Our good king puts on the best shows, that he does. Wouldn¡¯t you agree, Chrys?¡± he asked, putting a playful edge to the name we¡¯d decided upon. If Chrys wasn¡¯t covered in fur and flowers, I¡¯m sure he would have been red with embarrassment he¡¯d call anger.

    ¡°Well,¡± I continued as we approached the top of the stairs, ¡°the rules of hospitality also ask us to give you something as a gift, but I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve got nothing to give you. I do believe Chrys has nothing on him either. We¡¯ve been living each day by just scraping by with what¡¯s needed for survival, after all.¡± My hand never left Sage¡¯s dagger as I said all this. I knew I could give them it, but if Sage found out he¡¯d kill me.

    Besides, rules were meant to be broken, and with how Chrys was acting it seemed that the breaking would begin soon in a most violent fashion.

    We entered a new hallway, this one lined with actual torches to help light the way, as well as a long red carpet which led through an extravagant, tall archway. I could see an extensive table through it, and I figured it was the dining hall and that would be where we would meet the man, this king Chrys would maul to death.

    Looking at Chrys, his fur bristling with excitement and nerves, I could tell he was ready to do it the second we passed through the archway.

    Neres kept walking with a new, cheerier disposition. It seemed conversation was the way to his heart.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about a gift,¡± he said, pleasantly. ¡°I¡¯m sure our king will know of your plight and perhaps even bestow onto you a gift of his own. He¡¯s been known to do such things in the past, and if you move the right pieces he¡¯ll surely see the good in helping out someone like yourself.¡±

    ¡°What about Chrys?¡± I asked.

    That made Neres face turn more wicked. Perhaps I was just imagining things. ¡°Well, for him we¡¯ll see what happens.¡±

    I moved closer to Chrys as we made our way through the archway, and I was immediately taken back by what was there. It was as if we had been transported to a castle with actual furnishings and good weather, the archway acting as some sort of portal to a more opulent location. The floor was actually warm to touch somehow, despite still being what appeared to be cold stone covered in expensive rugs of many colors, the entire color spectrum appearing across the floor. The chairs were many but empty, though even without touching them I could see they were a soft, malleable wood that would contour to my form and be very comfortable to sit in. The table itself was already set, a long red cloth similar to the carpet ran across the table covered in all manner of foods from places I probably couldn¡¯t pronounce. My nose was ecstatic from the aromatic pleasure invading my essence, and it was all I could do to maintain my manners and not become the wild child pounding the bars for freedom.

    My eyes followed the line of entrees¡ªunable to even begin to figure out what was what apart from certain meat based dishes¡ªuntil I reached the head of the table, and a veritable throne upon which the king waited patiently. I glanced at Chrys; he was staring at the king, looking at him much as I had looked at the table.

    Neres stepped over to the man sitting there and bowed to him, then turned to us and said with a flourish of his wings, ¡°Our guests, this is the great king of the mountain, the overseer of Clementine and soon to be overseer of all of planet Longan, my favorite guy and yours, King Arteus Borus Karlovin Dilleroos Maxim Zedda the third. But you may call him¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dil,¡± Chrys growled, digging his claws into the stone and cutting the room with that horrible screeching sound.

    King Dil grinned, his teeth a dull aged yellow. ¡°You remember me then?¡± he asked, accompanied by the clicking sound of spit.

    Chrys nodded, prowling ever closer. ¡°Absolutely. And you remember what I said?¡±

    Things were becoming tense, so I jumped in and put my hands between Chrys and the king. Quickly, before he could eat me, I whispered to Chrys, ¡°Hey, hey, look! We¡¯re under the protection of the rules of hospitality right now, if you go fighting this guy right now you¡¯re just going to get us both killed. Try to be civil.¡±

    His face told me, ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to be civil, I came here to kill him.¡±

    Sighing heavily, I nodded to the unspoken dialogue. ¡°I know, I know. But at least let me eat, okay? I¡¯m tired and there¡¯s no possible way I could help you on an empty stomach. Let¡¯s just see what happens, okay?¡±

    Chrys bared his teeth, looking right through me into that old geezer King Dil.

    ¡°The boy is correct, you know,¡± Dil said, voice creeping into my ears like a shade. ¡°Under the rules of hospitality, myself and all those I rule in this castle shall treat you with respect as Mr. Neres here has. There is no reason to distrust us, for now we make merry and eat well.¡±

    Chrys just made a noise like, ¡°Harrumph,¡± with his nose, then lay by the archway, tail swishing this way and that.

    I decided I¡¯d sit a few seats away from King Dil, but not so far that I couldn¡¯t speak with him. It was so I was closer to Chrys in case he decided to pounce and change the whole situation.

    Neres walked around the table and prepared two plates, one for the king and one for myself. When he came by and gave me the food, I felt like asking him what it was but instead just began cutting into it with my utensils. King Dil laughed merrily, his eyes shining with bright golden light, two orbs untouched by time buried deep in a sullen face of lines and days ill spent.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I like to see!¡± he chortled, slapping his knee. ¡°How long has it been since we¡¯ve had guests, Neres? A year? Two perhaps?¡±

    ¡°Almost three,¡± he said, pouring a tall glass of wine out for the king. ¡°We took in that shipwrecked crew during a big storm, remember?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, how could I forget those rascals?¡± he tittered, grabbing a huge spoonful of hot soup. ¡°We had to keep them for a good few weeks to help fix that boat of theirs up, it was so out of shape. What a crew! That musician was especially wonderful, his songs so beautiful I still find myself humming them! Do you remember, Neres?¡±

    ¡°That I do, sir,¡± he said, pouring out a glass of water for myself. He glanced over at Chrys and said, ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want a seat at the table, Chrys? We made accomodations for you so you have a place to eat.¡±

    A growl was all he received in answer.

    King Dil shrugged and turned to me. ¡°How is it all tasting? Is it good? We tried to make sure there was a wide spread available, what with you two not eating real food for such a long time.¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, it¡¯s amazing!¡± I said with a mouth full of beef and hot root and mustard soup. ¡°It feels like the soup is actually bringing me back from the dead. Where do you get the ingredients from? I know there¡¯s no bovines on the island. You might be able to get the hot root here though, I¡¯m not really sure.¡±

    The king looked genuinely pleased, which wasn¡¯t doing Chrys any favors. I was beginning to wonder who was in the right among these two. ¡°I have a team of Harpies who fly to an island which is not that far from here and carry sacks of salted beef back here for the larder. We haven¡¯t much on this island, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve found. But we do what we can, and we keep a good relationship with those who trade with us.

    ¡°Most importantly, though, I¡¯m happy to hear you enjoy the food! Our kitchen is our pride and joy here, so seeing guests enjoy the food is wonderful. Would you like the recipe for the soup? It¡¯s not so difficult to make.¡±

    ¡°Why that would be marvelous!¡± I said, finding myself smiling wider than ever. ¡°I actually have a companion who is a great chef as well, and I¡¯m sure they could make this soup if they knew the ingredients.¡±

    ¡°A chef that good should be in my kitchen! How much would you sell him for? AH-HAH-HAH!¡± he laughed, such a full bellied laugh that it nearly shook the table. I joined in, unsure about why¡ªit wasn¡¯t that funny, really. But I was having such a nice time, it was infexious. I couldn¡¯t help it.

    We continued diving into the food with increasing hunger¡ªDil, Neres, and I that is, since Chrys remained laying by the door, jaw resting on paw resting on paw, eyes slowly taking in the whole room with deep breaths and even more hate in his stare. I sincerely felt bad for him. The conversation, the food, the atmosphere, it was all so sublime, a party I¡¯d never wish to end, yet he sat there staring at us like we were a cancer, a pus filled tumor ripe for the popping.

    As I ingested all manner of breads from foreign lands, dipping them in oils mixed with cloves of garlic, cheese, and salt, Dil took a swig from his glass and asked, ¡°So from where do you hail, young man? I know all that live in my kingdom and no children of men live here. Were you wrecked like those sailors I spoke of earlier? Or are you just passing through?¡±

    I mulled over the answer I¡¯d give him for a moment; despite the niceties and the overall enjoyable time I was having, I knew in my heart that I should keep the reasoning behind why I was there to myself. Sage wouldn¡¯t want me speaking of our journey to anyone who wasn¡¯t important, and as it stood King Dil was, nice as he seemed, the ruler of a garbage island filled with Harpies who would eat anything that had a scent and walked on any amount of legs.

    ¡°Passing through,¡± I nodded, drinking some juice Neres had provided. It was fruity, but didn¡¯t overtake the other flavors of the bread and oil. ¡°I ran out of provisions and stopped here for a while. My father lives on Mango island, so I was going to go there soon when I met Chrys. He was injured and in need of help, so I decided I¡¯d treat him and see if I could keep him healthy. One thing lead to another, I got hurt myself, and here I am trying to help him out. He was desperate to get up here.¡±

    A growl from behind me put my voice at ease, and I nervously ate some more bread.

    ¡°Did he now?¡± Dil asked, his voice slithering through his corny teeth. ¡°You call him Chrys, then? An odd name, yet fitting.¡±

    ¡°He is a little odd himself, after all,¡± I grinned, laughing airily. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°He is, AH-HAH! He is,¡± Dil returned his attention to me, locking eyes so deeply it was uncomfortable, but not unwarranted. ¡°So you need provisions then? What, food, clean water, some new clothes perhaps?¡±

    Nodding, I said, ¡°That about sums it up. Oh and a weapon, too. I lost my blade a long time ago and should get it replaced. But I can probably get a lot of that stuff from my father, he¡¯s well off enough.¡±

    ¡°What sort of man is your father?¡± he asked, slowly. Deliberately.

    Without thinking, I shrugged and said, ¡°I¡¯m not really sure.¡± Which was the truth. The frightening thing is, while I said it, in my head I was working up a story to tell so I could relieve myself of this portion of the conversation and see if I could maneuver it into a safer place. So when the words left my throat, I unconsciously put my hand to my lips, confused.

    King Dil saw this, and his smile grew so wide that the skin near the corners of his mouth cracked, bleeding.

    ¡°An intelligent answer,¡± he drawled. ¡°I feel none of us truly know our fathers until after they¡¯re gone, wouldn¡¯t you agree, Neres?¡±

    Through a full mouth, Neres gave a quick bob of his head and said, ¡°Indeed. Why I knew more about my father the day he died than I did after any amount of time actually spent with him. Funny how that works, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°It truly is,¡± Dil said, still grinning ear to ear with eerie delight.

    Suddenly, as if it hit me all at once, my stomach felt taut and massive. I sat back with a groan and rubbed it like a disgusting commoner and announced, ¡°Ughh, I¡¯m so full! That was so delicious though. What a meal!¡± They weren¡¯t my words, though I felt that way. It was someone else speaking for me.

    ¡°Quite,¡± King Dil agreed. ¡°Well, what do you say we move on to the entertainment then, eh Neres?¡±

    ¡°Right you are, sir,¡± the harpy said, getting up with a stretch of his feathers. ¡°And would you like me to get the table set, or do you want to go somewhere else?¡±

    ¡°Here will do,¡± he said. ¡°Just clean the table up and we¡¯ll get started here. Bring in some good ones this time, too, last time things were way too one sided and it was an absolute bore!¡±

    ¡°Right sir, I¡¯ll be just a moment.¡± And Neres was off, grabbing a cart that had been underneath the table at the far end of the room and began loading it up with the dishes and unfinished foodstuffs, while Dil stared at me with an expectant gaze. He knew I was on to a game, whether or not it was his game I wasn¡¯t sure. But he was sure.

    I glanced over at Chrys, who was still taking it all in with that blank face, unreadable. Uninvolved.

    But he was still himself.

    I wasn¡¯t.

    My head began spinning as I tried to get a hold of myself and pull my head out from all the muck that was covering it, but I couldn¡¯t do it. I hadn¡¯t the know-how, nor the strength of heart. My weakness had lured me into a trap I knew existed but ignored entirely.

    Dil sat back with his hands folded covertly on his lap, eyes hooded on that pleased face. I finally began seeing him, fully, in that moment, and a sick repulsion filled me. He was ancient, absolutely ancient. To this day I¡¯ve never seen a living being appear so well past his time but still acting in his prime. Wrinkles were so deep in his face that they themselves had wrinkles, and his skin was so dry I was surprised he didn¡¯t soak the liquid he consumed up through his skin like a rag. His hands were gnarled and nearly broken, unable to grip anything without not-so-subtle shaking. He was a mess in a dark purple cloak¡ªwhich was stained with food he had dropped on it, no doubt from all the shaking of his hands.

    He didn¡¯t speak to me during the entire time Neres was gone. He just stared, watching things unfold with so much pleasure it was vampiric in nature, stealing away the joy I¡¯d been given and replacing it with panic.

    When Neres returned, he had with him the cart he had been pushing filled with dishes, now instead carrying a plethora of weapons both banal and incredibly strange. There were swords and daggers and rapiers, axes and a spear or two¡ªone may have been a pike, I often mix them up¡ªbut this is where the weapons began to get stranger, and I do not know the names of them. Describing how they would work is also a mystery to me. What I do know is that there were poles with so many different devices attached, all sharp and dangerous, poking outward in all directions like sun rays; there was a rod with a red orb attached, with a strong chance of being magical; there was some kind of chained weapon where you had a handle in the center, two chains on either side, and those chains were tipped with round orbs covered in small blades.

    While surveying these things, I asked, ¡°What are these for?¡±

    ¡°This evening¡¯s entertainment,¡± Dil said, palm outstretched.

    Before I even bothered asking, I knew who the fighters were.

    Chrys stretched out his limbs and cracked them one by one, yawning as he did so.

    ¡°Choose a weapon, young man,¡± Dil snickered. ¡°Choose wise, or die.¡±

    Nervous, I glanced over at Chrys who was swishing his tail and waiting at the end of the table. Dil turned his attention to him and frowned.

    ¡°You know, if you¡¯re fighting you should probably also choose a weapon. Pride will be your downfall, old friend.¡±

    Chrys just smiled, teeth looking sharper than usual.

    Dil shrugged, ¡°Well it looks like your opponent is ready then. You had best pick a weapon, boy, before I grow impatient.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, I assessed the situation and the weapons before me. None of the standard weaponry would outdo the dagger Sage had given me, so they were out of the question. Sure it lacked range, but if I was fighting Chrys again it would definitely be up close, and the dagger would cut him with little effort. But it would make sense to keep it hidden, and for some reason the idea of fighting him seemed great.

    I knew it wasn¡¯t, and I didn¡¯t want to fight him. I just had to, there wasn¡¯t any way for me to choose otherwise.

    So, discarding the swords and axes and the like, I checked the stranger side of the table. Digging around in the pile¡ªwhich was very difficult to do without hurting myself in the process, mind you¡ªI found a few odd things that didn¡¯t appear to be weapons at all. The weirdest thing was this long cloth, soft to touch but taut feeling no matter what I did with it.

    ¡°What is this?¡± I asked Dil, then added, ¡°If it¡¯s alright for me to ask, that is.¡±

    Both Neres and Dil smiled widely when they saw what I held. ¡°What an eye for quality you have, young man,¡± Dil drawled, sipping his cup of wine. ¡°That is what is known as a Wisp cloak. They¡¯re made on the island of Pomegranate, where they believe that the material comes from the husk left behind by a Wisp as it is separating from its meaty body. I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s the truth of it myself; in my life I¡¯ve never seen a Wisp. The strength of that cloak is there, though. It¡¯s the strongest cloth I¡¯ve ever encountered in Tamarind.¡±

    The cloak was a vibrant purple, a color I¡¯d never expect from the husk of a man. The story seemed as unbelievable as Dil made it sound, but I wasn¡¯t sure about its strength.

    I picked up one of the swords on the table and said, ¡°You don¡¯t mind if I test its strength, I assume?¡±

    ¡°Not at all, boy! Go right ahead,¡± he cheered, rather excited.

    Laying the cloak on the floor, spread as thin as possible, I raised the blade up and dropped it down with all my might. Too much, in fact, for the vibration from hitting the floor made my whole body shake.

    When I picked it back up, it was in the same condition as before. But I still wasn¡¯t quite convinced, so I asked if Neres could hold it up for me while I strike it. He tried not to, but he looked worried so I added with a hint of humor, ¡°Just hold the cloak away from your body, that way I won¡¯t hit you. You¡¯re way taller than I am anyway, it should be easy for me to miss you and hit only the cloak.¡±

    He looked over at Dil, who agreed and ordered him to do it.

    So Neres held the cloak up for me, as far away from his body as he possibly could, and I lunged at it with a stab from the heart, all my strength put into it, and the blade and myself glided across it, nearly ramming into the wall a few steps away.

    Dil clapped, his tone ironic¡ªas weird as that might sound, a clap can appear ironic in tone I assure you. ¡°Satisfied? May we get on with the bout? And Neres, I¡¯m almost out of wine, bring me some more when you¡¯ve finished fooling around.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Neres said with a flush, then he gave me the cloak and made his way off to grab more wine.

    Once he left, I began wrapping the Wisp cloak around my neck like a makeshift cross between a scarf and a cape. It worked well enough, being large enough to drape over my limbs almost entirely, while also not being long enough that I¡¯d trip over it while walking.

    ¡°Well, you should at least get into position while we wait on my drink,¡± Dil sighed. ¡°You, boy, on the table now.¡±

    His tone was not something I would answer to, but it seemed a reasonable request so I hopped on the table. It was like the world fell away from around me, my peripheral growing smaller and smaller until there was absolutely nothing besides Chrys and the table we stood on. His eyes were unblinking orbs of defiance, and I answered with my own challenging gaze, at least what I hoped was one though surely I appeared nonthreatening. The longer the standoff went, the more the space began to grow smaller and smaller, closer and closer, until it seemed we were within arms reach of each other.

    Right as we were about to be a hair''s breadth away from each other, Dil cut in with an ornery screech. ¡°Hey, hey! Save it until I have something to drink, you two, before I cut it all short.¡±

    A sharp feeling like a pickaxe hit my forehead and I realized that we really were walking towards each other. Or rather, I had closed the gap and made my way across the table, not even realizing what I was doing.

    I stepped back to the opposite end of the table, so shaken I pulled the Wisp cloak around me tightly.

    Neres came in quickly after that, a full goblet of wine ready for Dil in his hands. ¡°Sorry it took me so long,¡± he tittered, and I wished it had taken longer.

    Dil took a long, agonizing sip and when he was finished he steepled his decrepit hands and said, ¡°Right, well then get started.¡±

    Now, some of you reading this are probably expecting that we both ran at each other at the word, ¡°Go,¡± and the battle was swift and brutal. Perhaps it was the latter, but not so much the former. You must remember, we weren¡¯t trained fighters. In a fight between gladiators in a huge stadium, they may even begin fighting before they were supposed to¡ªand in that case, the crowd would cheer, enjoying the sheer violent passion displayed before them.

    Here, I was on a long table about to face off against not only a creature who I came to know as a friend, or at least a companion, but someone who very nearly killed me just a week or so prior. This wasn¡¯t good, no matter how great a good fight sounded.

    Chrys was equally hesitant, maybe even more so. He prowled forward on pensive paws, barely making a sound despite his body making the table creak when he had hopped on. It made me all the more wary, unsure of when he¡¯d leap into action and close the distance.

    Dil was growing impatient. When neither of us had attacked, and barely even moved, he pounded a fist on the table, the sound and vibration scaring me into a gasp. ¡°Why are you two going so slowly? You are entertainers, you must entertain! Get to moving, get going before I have you escorted out of here.¡± His voice drew venom with those last few words, and I knew he meant to have us both killed if we didn¡¯t kill ourselves here first for his enjoyment.

    Chrys just smirked, finally stopping where he stood. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t do that, you old bastard. You¡¯ve too few Harpies to waste at this point.¡±

    From behind Chrys, Dil swore under his breath. ¡°Though that¡¯s a valid point, I will still have it done if you do not begin this fight. I¡¯ve still got enough to kill you, don¡¯t get proud in your old age, friend.¡±

    ¡°Former, soon to be killer,¡± Chrys growled, lowering himself in a stance I was very familiar with. He hadn¡¯t stopped due to nerves, nor had he stopped for some other such reason.

    He just knew he was within pouncing distance.

    From where he was, Chrys leapt across the table with such speed you¡¯d have missed it if you blinked, and since I didn¡¯t blink I was left with very dry eyes from the wind he brought with him.

    Fortunately for me, I knew what was coming. Grabbing my dagger, I leapt backwards myself so that I would be just out of reach. Just as well, too; his claws were so close to hitting my face I had to check for blood when I landed. When I was clear, I dashed forward and lunged with my dagger. Excitement quickly took over me as I realized I was about to win the exchange.

    But the theme of my life, especially my younger years, was one of embarrassment and disappointment.

    I had done everything right. I saw the attack, I dodged and countered accordingly, but what did I miscalculate?

    The size of the Wisp cloak.

    It wasn¡¯t too big for walking, that was fine. But when I went to dash forward, I had brought my legs high, and the wind caught the cloak in such a way that I landed on it and pulled myself down to the table in such a haphazard way I was surprised I didn¡¯t cut myself or lose my dagger; truly, that was the only miracle in this exchange. Not losing my weapon and not hurting myself too badly.

    The biggest hit was to my ego. Dil burst into a cackle so sickening he¡¯d cough and wheeze, and Neres joined in with his own laugh. You¡¯d have thought I was putting on a jester show, not a battle.

    Chrys took this opportunity and seized it, in the meantime. He roared, placing both paws on my cloak so I couldn¡¯t escape. Snapping at me, he got in my face and I shivered with fright, my chest aching from the pounding my heart was dealing it. Before I could pass out from fear, I heard Chrys speak, low like he was whispering despite never using his voice.

    ¡°Nice job distracting him,¡± he said, and I was so surprised I fumbled with my dagger and nearly stabbed him.

    He roared loud in my face, spit and slobber spewing all over me. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare cut me,¡± he whispered more haughtily. ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight you, I¡¯m using this to keep the element of surprise. Just keep pretending to fight me, take me towards him, and I can finish it from there. Okay?¡±

    I tried calming my breathing down, but it didn¡¯t work. I nodded anyway though, unsure of exactly what was happening.

    Chrys yelped and flew back, as if I had hit him or hurt him in some way. I took this as a sign to get up, and before I was on my feet I heard him whisper from very far away, ¡°Maintain your influence¡­!¡±

    It was cryptic, and my head felt very hazy, but I just nodded absently and kept moving.

    I got in close and swiped at him with my dagger in a wide, clumsy arc and he dodged smoothly, then countered with a swipe of his own which was equally wide and simple to dodge, coupled with a big bellied roar to embellish it. Which gave me the idea to add noise to my attacks, to help muddy them a bit and make them easier to believe. Dil¡¯s eyes were scary, and they probably caught nearly everything.

    Grunting, I began lunging forward with stabs that were as well choreographed as an impromptu faux stab could possibly be, and Chrys dodged them in ways that were just¡­just¡­

    Downright rude.

    If it had been an actual fight, I¡¯d have thought he was making a statement, the meaning of which was loud and clear for everyone; ¡°I¡¯m better than you.¡± Which, yeah he was. Easily. I couldn¡¯t even utilize a little Vastmire, and fighting¡ªwhile exhilarating¡ªwas far from something I did all the time. The fact that I was alive was proof that I was more of a survivor than anything, and anyone who took it to mean I was some sort of deific swordsman would be sadly mistaken. Or happily, I suppose, were the opinion held by an opponent.

    Regardless, Chrys was doing wild moves that were more for show than for practical use. He was doing backflips over my stabs, cartwheels, and for one move where I¡¯m sure he was particularly enjoying himself, he glided off the table and slid underneath, leaping out in one smooth motion that was all too good for something so sudden and unpracticed. Dil and Neres were both clapping and cheering him on, and it was becoming harder and harder for me to remember that this was a fake performance.

    My moves became more aggressive, each slash with Sage¡¯s dagger becoming louder and getting closer and closer to hitting Chrys. Conversely, his movements became tighter, less showy, with less room for error. Soon all you could hear was the sound of our breathing, the cut of the air from my dagger, the bated breath of the audience, and the frenzied steps on that long table.

    We were finally just a few steps away from Dil and Neres, when I realized this didn¡¯t have to be a fake fight. I could win this. Chrys was dodging everything that I was doing only because he didn¡¯t expect me to jump in and go for the kill, so all I had to do was build up the courage to get in as close as possible and go for it.

    Chrys was in the middle of dodging to the right, preemptively due to the pattern I had been using for my attacks, when I closed the distance and drove my dagger right up into what was supposed to be his heart. Instead, he saw me coming and readjusted his movement, shoving his shoulder between me and him so that I¡¯d stab his upper arm area.

    The roar of pain he let out was incredible. For a second, just hearing his agonized cry was like listening to one of Conifer¡¯s old songs back on Mango.

    For just a second.

    After that, I felt my senses turning back on like torches being slowly lit, one after another, before I fell to my knees, confused and in more pain than I should have been. Soreness was spreading across my body until I felt nothing but aches, every movement I did causing something to throb uncontrollably. Chrys¡¯ roar slowly turned into a cry that actually made my chest hurt, as if my heart would burst with empathy. It was the sort of feeling some folks feel when they see a hurt animal, looking helpless and in pain. The only major difference was I did it, and he wasn¡¯t an animal.

    He was a friend.

    ¡°Chrys,¡± I hissed, my voice breaking. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Growling and taking ragged breaths, Chrys moved his head towards Dil.

    My eyes followed, and I saw Dil was laughing to himself heartily, clapping slowly. ¡°Don¡¯t stop!¡± he wheezed encouragingly. ¡°You¡¯ve got him on the run now, boy!¡± Before I could respond, I felt my body urge forward, tears on my face not mattering as suddenly my will went against itself, the desire for bloodshed outweighing the needs of our mission, my desire for compassion.

    ¡°Why?¡± was all I managed to croak out to Chrys while I swiped at him with my blade, cutting his foreleg neatly but not terribly.

    ¡°His power,¡± he growled, ¡°is that of influence. Dil is in your head, you just need to shut him out somehow.¡±

    There was no time to ask how he was managing to shut out any influence Dil might have over him, and the more time passed the more I didn¡¯t want to ask at all. All I wanted was to kill him for the pleasure of it, and the power that kept pumping through my veins edged me forward with enough strength to feel impervious.

 Chapter Twenty-Four

    My desire was stifled, however. Chrys, still able to move despite his injuries, pounced on me and held both of my arms down with his heavy paws, using more than enough weight to hold me in place; I¡¯m not sure I could have moved if I was stronger. His blood dripped slowly in small droplets onto my neck and shoulder, his breath ragged, his face contorting in pain and thought, obviously trying to figure out a way to turn the tide, to get through to me so I would be back on his side of the fight.

    That wasn¡¯t going to happen, though. Not as long as I wanted to fight him. The old man behind me didn¡¯t pose the challenge I needed to satiate the sudden battle lust in me, this thing so imposing, so wild and staggering in my everything, so detached from who I was yet familiar in some way, a desire I never knew I had that needed to be quenched.

    I struggled to pull away from Chrys and grab the dagger I¡¯d dropped just a short reach away from me, but he didn¡¯t budge. He stayed on me with what appeared to be little effort, using most of his strength to simply continue standing.

    ¡°You can¡¯t hold him there forever,¡± Dil said, a frown on his face. ¡°He has it in him now, that need to fight you. And you, you¡¯re injured badly. You¡¯ll be out soon.¡±

    ¡°So you think,¡± Chrys said, sounding increasingly more ragged, drool dripping from his mouth in globs. ¡°I¡¯ll snap him out of it. Your power is only so strong.¡±

    In a flash, a knife was in Chrys¡¯s opposite shoulder and he nearly tripped off of me in sudden pain, releasing a cry that sounded like he¡¯d been holding it in for ages.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Dil whispered, his voice even more sinister. ¡°You¡¯ve been away for a long time, old friend. I might look weak and old to you, but we both know I¡¯ve gotten stronger. You can¡¯t¡ª¡± he punctuated this with another swift toss of a knife he pulled from underneath the table, not even leaving his casual sitting position and still hitting the mark with such precision I couldn¡¯t help but admire¡ª ¡°win with such feeble strength. Especially one you gained from me. Strength from another isn¡¯t true, or so they say.¡±

    A few of Chrys¡¯s flowers drooped when he gave a toothy smirk and asked, ¡°Who¡¯s they? I don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve seen you leave this place since we got here all those years ago, and no one we knew was spouting nonsense like that to you back then.¡±

    Dil began laughing then. No one joined in, as we all seemed to miss the joke. Even Neres seemed lost.

    ¡°Even so,¡± Dil said, ¡°You¡¯re just wasting your time not finishing this. Either kill the boy and come after me like you want, or do your little trick you seem to have. Your time is running out, and I grow weary. If you bore me, I¡¯ll just finish it myself.¡±

    Chrys muttered, ¡°Oh you¡¯ll grow weary,¡± so low that I could barely hear him¡ªand I was directly underneath him.

    Then, after focusing and taking in a few deep breaths, he shut his eyes then opened them wide, locking them with mine so that I couldn¡¯t look away, though I wanted to. He didn¡¯t speak, didn¡¯t make a sound, just kept staring at me with an unblinking gaze, as if he were searching for something inside me.

    Then, clear as anything I¡¯ve ever heard, his voice echoed in my head:

    DEFY IT

    It was loud, echoing with so much reverberation my head ached. But the meaning hit me like a tidal wave, and suddenly I felt a surge of cold, followed immediately by the heat of pain from all the weight on me. I must have looked like I was hurting because Chrys lifted his paws off of me swiftly, nearly falling off the table. He looked worse than I thought he had before, especially with that knife poking out of him. There¡¯s a famous statue called the Chimera at Sundown  in Persea, and it depicts the creature with a bunch of spears and blades stabbed into it while it watches what is presumably the sun setting. I used to look at it with an intriguing bit of reverence back home.

    Now I saw its basis, and even with a less hyperbolic number of injuries it felt worse to see. All I wanted was to face Dil now, head on.

    Retrieving my dagger, Chrys nodded to me and fell over in a heap. I stopped for a second, unsure of what to do. It didn¡¯t take me too long to remember how heavy he was, and that I wasn¡¯t going to be able to carry him down the mountain and that without someone to fly me out of the castle we were stuck here. Taking a second to breathe, I turned around and walked over to Dil.

    Neres was surprised, but Dil seemed more interested than anything.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve regained your influence?¡± he drawled, placing a hand beneath his chin.

    I nodded. ¡°Yes, but it was only thanks to Chrys. If he were not here, you would have bested me.¡±

    Grinning, he asked in what sounded more like a statement of fact, ¡°What makes you think you can turn this around? Your better is passed out on the floor, and all you have is that little knife.¡±

    ¡°So do you,¡± I said, standing above him and looking down now.

    ¡°Want me to take him?¡± Neres asked, bending slightly into a ready position. Dil waved a hand and shook his head.

    ¡°No, gather up the remains of Chrys and take him to his chamber.¡±

    Blinking, Neres remained in his ready stance. ¡°Are you sure, lord? I can make quick work¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Neres,¡± Dil cut him off. ¡°It¡¯s the responsibility of the old to teach the young, and a lesson is what this boy shall get. Now go.¡±

    Still staring me down as if he were ready at any moment to take me on, Neres nodded and moved to Chrys. Struggling only a little, he hoisted the huge beast onto his shoulder and carried him out. The only sound we heard was the light scrape of limbs dragging across the floor.

    The second the door shut, and we were together in that dimly lit room, Dil said, ¡°Sit down, boy. We need to talk before this begins.¡±

    Defiant, I said, ¡°No. We do this now.¡±

    Dil¡¯s voice became an incredible boom, an omniscient command of unopposed strength. ¡°Sit. Down.¡±

    And in less time than it took to get there, I was sitting next to him once more, rather confused and shaken up. I didn¡¯t even remember doing it.

    ¡°How did you¡ª¡±

    ¡°We both know,¡± he smiled, the sound of his lips peeling off his teeth in that garish smile sending chills up my spine. ¡°You¡¯ve got it too, I can tell, though you don¡¯t know how to use it.¡±

    My eyes grew wider and wider. ¡°Vastmire?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°The people I know with Vastmire don¡¯t use it like this at all. They just get stronger, they can¡¯t control minds.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Dil said, shrugging, ¡°I can¡¯t control minds either. I can only influence them.¡±

    ¡°I understand that, but why can you? Can I do that if we both use Vastmire?¡±

    Dil¡¯s face crinkled slightly, confusingly. I doubt he expected such a question from the boy ready to kill him. I had decided, in that moment, that it was better to be curious than to try and simply kill him, especially when he wasn¡¯t being aggressively hostile.

    Just passively hostile.

    ¡°You¡¯re from a place filled with Vastmire, and you don¡¯t know how it works at all?¡± he asked, probing.

    ¡°Not at all,¡± I said. ¡°I lived a pretty sedentary life.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Dil drawled, eyes shining brusquely. ¡°Well, in that case, allow me to teach you a little about how the power of Vastmire truly works. Hmm¡­ An example would help you, I think. Do you know someone in your life that, without Vastmire, is very skilled or talented in some way?¡±

    I nodded right away. ¡°I know a musician of considerable skill. He¡¯s very good, in fact his songs have filled me with tons of emotion on many occasions. Why?¡±

    Dil continued, ¡°Well then, let¡¯s say he had Vastmire. He was granted the power in some way, just for the sake of argument. He would also not be as these men you know who are ridiculously powerful from it. Instead, there is a strong chance he would be able to manipulate others, maybe even the world around him, using the music he creates.¡±

    No one had really explained how it worked before, but that was an interesting way of putting it. ¡°So essentially,¡± I said after a moment of ponderous thought, ¡°Vastmire is a way to enhance what you already are?¡±

    Dil snapped his fingers affirmatively. ¡°Correct, young man, correct. Sure you¡¯ll probably be stronger or faster with it, but the true essence, the most important part of being a being with Vastmire is not the increase in power, but the increase in your own latent talent.

    ¡°When I was a young man, not much older than you are now, I realized that I was gifted with an interesting power. It¡¯s not such a common one, or powerful on its own, but something that got me to the highest high of my life: the power to influence others.¡±

    Wistfully, Dil sat back in his chair and shut his eyes, basking in the memory. ¡°Anyway, if you have a latent talent, you can hone it too. I could teach you, guide you to a level of greatness that you wouldn¡¯t achieve otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said with a smirk, balancing my dagger in my hands. ¡°But I¡¯ve already got a great teacher, and I¡¯d rather not get lessons from a man who will die soon regardless of whether I killed him right here and now or simply let time blow him away.¡±

    Dil chuckled dryly. ¡°Don¡¯t be so hasty, now. I¡¯ve an advantage over Sage.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    That piqued my interest; I never mentioned Sage¡¯s name.

    ¡°I already know what your innate talent it, the thing you¡¯re best at. I could mold you into someone great, an unprecedented king for the ages. All you have to do is stick with me, young man.¡±

    This time I hesitated. Not because I was considering his proposition, that was ridiculous to me. Maybe if he asked when I was sixteen or so. No, I was trying to figure out how to ask him my talent without conceding to his proposition.

    The best I could come up with was figuring it out through elimination. ¡°I¡¯m already well aware of my talents,¡± I chided. ¡°I just need to improve my fighting skills and my strength will shine.¡±

    His lips peeled back at that. ¡°That¡¯s not your greatest asset, though. Surely you know this.¡±

    Shrugging, I said, ¡°Well yeah. I don¡¯t need to improve my problem solving.¡±

    Dil just grinned wider, and I could tell I was getting colder so I just dropped it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you one last chance,¡± Dil said. ¡°Will you be my student? My ward? An apprentice in the Mire?¡±

    But I stood up and shook my head. ¡°Of course not, old man. Today you will learn what it means to be strong.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he snickered, the knives from beneath the table rising around him in the air like fluttering little birds. ¡°No, today you will learn what it means to be weak.¡±

    Without anymore warning than this, the knives began launching at me one by one with such swiftness that I could hardly react at all. The moment I saw the first one fly, I immediately hopped up out of my chair to run away along the table, but before I even took my first step a knife had sliced my left arm open. Grimacing, I ducked my head toward the ground and ran with my arms low so that it would be more difficult to see me. The other knives began launching towards me, one by one, but they all missed very slightly, some lodging deeply into the table and others zooming overhead. By the time I got to the other end of the table, all the knives were out of the air and I was breathing heavy from the mental burden. Pain tried to edge into my mind from the wound in my arm but I pushed it away; my attention returned to Dil, who remained in his chair, his pleasant visage staring back at me.

    ¡°You react well,¡± he called, a slight cough breaking up his words. ¡°Were you to relinquish yourself to me this moment I would take you without hesitation. You are a prize, and you don¡¯t even know it.¡±

    Steadying my breath as best I could, I stood to my full height and yelled, voice only cracking slightly, ¡°Take your ugly face and throw it off this mountain before I do it for you, you old barrel of piss!¡±

    I sensed a frown from him, but it was hard to tell from my spot across the room.

    ¡°You¡¯re too far from your knives to use them now,¡± I called, baseless and arrogant. ¡°Get up out of your chair, or do you need someone to help you?¡±

    At this, I heard him chuckle, wheeze, and cough in the span of a few seconds. He snapped his fingers.

    Then the walls moved.

    For some reason, I hadn¡¯t noticed. It was hard to, I suppose, with his influence over me. I only saw what he wanted me to see, heard what he wanted me to hear, felt what he wanted¡ªyou understand. The whole time I was there, I hadn¡¯t noticed that the walls, the ceiling, all were covered in darkness. But not the sort that is real, not the sort that exists naturally.

    This darkness was an army of harpies, feathers painted blacker than black, that moved and rustled in a violent rhythm. Feathers tumbled to the floor, and I found myself spinning in circles to see all of them moving behind me. I leapt onto the table, unsure of where to go, if there was a place to go.

    ¡°While I could use the knives again,¡± Dil yawned from his chair, ¡°I also wield influence over every other person or thing in this building. So you see, I will sit here and watch as you fight for your life once more, young man.¡±

    Dil gave me an ugly, toothy grin; the harpies peeled free from the walls, he pointed a finger at me and nodded, and they all moved towards me in unison.

    I¡¯ve been in many situations with the odds stacked against me during my life, and this would only be the first of many where I was absolutely alone. Nothing, however, would ever feel quite so unsettling as the feeling that every being in the room was out to get me and was carrying out their plan to eviscerate me at the same exact time. Armies are trained to act in unison not only for discipline but also to enact fear in the enemy, and I was experiencing that first hand.

    I¡¯d love to tell you that I quickly went through my options in my head and began systematically breaking the enemy formation apart, made my way to Dil and sliced his head off, then headed back down the mountain with Chrys.

    It¡¯d be great still to tell you that Chrys showed up and helped me out just then, tearing through the enemy with power only conceivable by immortals and children with nothing but time and imagination.

    And at the time, I¡¯m sure I¡¯d like to tell you I closed my eyes and woke up back home in Persea, with my mother¡¯s palm on my forehead, fingers sifting through my hair with gentle care.

    Well, here¡¯s how it went:

    First, I gripped my knife tight and started running forward to get some distance from the back wall in a vain attempt to take out Dil very quickly. My thoughts were so loud I almost yelled, calling for the Vastmire to take over me and allow me to cut the room down. But once again it didn¡¯t come to me. I felt just as weak as always.

    I made it just shy of the center of the table when the harpies finally descended on me, their talons obscuring my vision in a sea of sharp, pointy danger. Swiping at them wildly, I managed to put them off by cutting off whatever was there¡ªprobably their claws, I¡¯m not sure, I wasn¡¯t looking¡ªand I barrelled forward, swinging when they would close in again, otherwise keeping my knife at my side. And for a short time, this worked fine.

    However Dil was, if anything, a cunning man.

    Midstep, I was dragged into the air by a harpy, yanked up by my shoulders. I¡¯d been in this situation before on the island, but this time if I cut the claws off the harpy I¡¯d have fallen into a pile of them, all ready to tear me apart. So I hesitated.

    In every battle I usually come out not only a stronger fighter, but a smarter one. Learning is one of the virtues of man, or so I¡¯ve heard. And I can tell you right now, in this fight, I learned that hesitation is not something you want to do in a fight. If your idea is stupid, dumb, impossible, don¡¯t hesitate; just go for it. Failure is salvagable in motion.

    While I was held in the air, more harpies came and grabbed me, one on each arm, then the harpy that initially hoisted me up began untying the Wisp cloak from around my neck as we fluttered closer and closer to Dil, floating across the room in a slow glide that gave me too much time for imagination.

    Dil¡¯s face became grave, and he held out his hand awaiting the cloak to fall into it. The harpy let it fall, and the talons holding my arms seemed to grow longer, sharper. Pain crescendoed to bursting, from the claws holding me to the slow burn of being held in such an uncomfortable way. Dil saw it in my face, and he shook his head.

    ¡°You really should have taken my offer,¡± he consoled. ¡°You¡¯d have been great.¡±

    Without a word, the harpies not holding me fell to the ground and lined up around me, forming a circle with no spaces, no place for me to go even if I was on the ground and could move.

    Then, simultaneously, they began their torture.

    Each one opened their long, sharp beaks and began nipping at my legs, removing flesh slowly and systematically.

    I think I screamed. I must have.

    Dil said something, but the sound didn¡¯t resonate.

    I thought of Sage, that I¡¯d let him down.

    I thought of Chrys, and wondered if he was meeting a fate similar.

    My face started leaking from everywhere; tears rolled down my face; snot slid into my mouth; spit collected on my chin, my neck; and I thought of Conifer, of his family, of his quest to find them. And I thought of how little I had done in my own life up to this point, how little I even mattered. And for just a moment, I accepted my death, slow and painful as it may be. I accepted it.

    Then I thought of my father, my mother, my kingdom, of my legacy. Things I hadn¡¯t really thought about before. I never knew how much I cared for that sort of thing until that moment, and it took a lot more than this later to really solidify what I cared about most in my life. But these thoughts hit me like cannon fire, and I felt something slip.

    The next harpy to bite me couldn¡¯t break my skin.

    All of a sudden, energy that wasn¡¯t entirely mine overflowed me, like some kind of gift from a patron deity. I recognized it, the familiar sense of power, the knowledge that like this I was unstoppable. My goals would be realized, and I would continue to exist. The comfort of knowing I would live, the unceasing promise of pain to those in front of me. That was Vastmire.

    Instinct took over and I rolled my shoulders, jerked my arms forward. The talons holding them would have cut me to the bone if I did this normally, but I felt nothing besides the wind my speed created. Dil¡¯s eyes flickered, and a smile I couldn¡¯t hide was on my face despite the disgusting liquid all over it. The harpies around me tried to hold me down, but I brushed them aside with idle swipes of my hand, sending them sprawling off the table as I walked the few steps forward to Dil. He narrowed his eyes, eyebrows slanted not so much angrily as they were wary, unsure of what I would do.

    Bending down, I took the cloak from his hands and wiped my face with it.

    ¡°I think,¡± I said, muffled from the cloak, ¡°that you¡¯ve lost, old man.¡±

    When I stopped and looked back at him, I saw his eyes widen and I felt a lump in the back of my head. I touched it but nothing was there; I realized then that he was attempting to influence me but couldn¡¯t get passed my defenses, or rather the Vastmire protecting me.

    Dil sputtered, which was uncharacteristic.

    ¡°Kill him,¡± he yelled, and the harpies turned that room into sheer chaos. A chaos, I recall, I saw with a level of calmness that frightened me. The scariest thing about Vastmire isn¡¯t that people can use it against you or that its power is so dubious, so unpredictable without prior investigation. I¡¯ve met plenty who use the power in ways that were unique entirely to them, such as Dil and his influence. But the scary part is when you are using it yourself, and you have this moment of clarity where things that seemed impossible, were dangerous a moment ago, become simple annoyances that you defeat without trying. And you see, just for a second, in an out of body experience, that you are the scary one now, the unstoppable force in front of these people. And you wonder if you can stop yourself.

    I know for a fact that I couldn¡¯t stop myself.

    Without a second thought, I punched a harpy in the beak so hard that it disappeared off its face, and the harpy was sent rebounding into other harpies, then they went through the wall. My hand throbbed dully, but I kept using it in that same way, demolishing each and every one of them as they came near me, all without a second thought. None of them could touch me.

    Before I knew it, every single harpy was down and out, and we were surrounded by at best groaning, at worst unmoving bodies. His army was defeated, and neither of us knew how. Not really, anyway.

    All that was left was Dil.

    He was out of his chair, knees wobbling from fear and age, and he backed up one step, two, then fell over a dead harpy behind him, hands held up over his face, his primitive shield.

    I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself, feeling Vastmire would be unnecessary now, but the energy still billowed out of me obscenely.

    ¡°Please!¡± he kept saying, shaking, sputtering like he were the victim.

    Holding Sage¡¯s dagger up, I took a second to think things over. I asked Dil, ¡°Why does Chrys hate you so much?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Chrys has been bent on killing you for longer than I could probably understand,¡± I continued. ¡°He¡¯s got something against you, and the more I got to know him, the more I see that he doesn¡¯t want it. Revenge isn¡¯t something that is his natural state, it¡¯s something that took over him. So you had to have done something pretty messed up to get his whole perspective twisted like that. Did you influence him?¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± he whispered.

    ¡°Did you make him do things for you? Things he didn¡¯t want to do?¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± he kept saying, over and over.

    Crouching down, I started feeling bad for him.

    ¡°You know,¡± I said to myself more than him, for at this point he was long gone. ¡°Had you not tried to use me, and then proceed to try and kill me, I probably wouldn¡¯t be doing this right now. So in a way, this is your fault.¡±

    Dil was still panting, like an animal caught in a trap.

    I tossed the Wisp cloak, which was in my other hand still, on top of him, draping his body so I couldn¡¯t see him.

    Then I held up Sage¡¯s dagger and tried to breathe deeply again, push aside the Vastmire. But I couldn¡¯t, no matter how hard I tried it stayed with me. So instead I tried to, as gently as possible, slice downward. I went fast but held the knife loosely, expecting it to probably bounce off the cloak and scare him.

    Instead, the cloak and Dil were both cut into two pieces.

    I stood up, looking at everything around me, still breathing heavily, energy welled up so much it was making my heart race. I couldn¡¯t stand there like that for long. Not moving was almost an impossible task. Maybe I couldn¡¯t handle that I¡¯d just killed an old, defenseless man in cold blood. Or maybe it was just so exciting that I had to move.

    So I left that room, the dining room tomb of royal death, and took to the halls to find Chrys, the bloodsoaked dagger Sage gave me still hanging loosely in my hand.

 Chapter Twenty-Five

    It didn¡¯t take long to find Chrys and Neres, for they were wandering the halls themselves already, Neres holding a feathery wing to his head and Chrys¡¯s mouth dripping fresh, warm blood. Seeing me sent Chrys running towards me, leaving Neres to his aching head. Once he got within a few steps of me, he stopped and looked me up and down with discerning eyes, soon giving way to a smirk on his face.

    ¡°You made it out alright, I see,¡± he said, sounding almost pleased.

    I nodded. ¡°It was rough, but yeah. You¡¯re okay too it looks like.¡±

    He nodded back. ¡°You were just in time,¡± he said, motioning to Neres. ¡°He and I were just beginning to duke it out when you got Dil.¡±

    My eyebrows raised and I asked him how he knew what I did.

    ¡°Killing Dil broke his influence,¡± Chrys said. ¡°Every being he was using is now free to do as they will. This island is free¡­¡± he trailed off, looking more downcast than I expected. Before I could think to say anything, he turned and walked towards the dining hall. ¡°I¡¯ll grab what I came here for and finish up soon. Don¡¯t bother following me, just make sure that Neres and the rest of the harpies are okay.¡±

    I laughed sardonically. ¡°Well, don¡¯t get mad when you see what you see then. You should have mentioned that we were here to save harpies.¡±

    Chrys just shrugged his huge shoulders. ¡°We weren¡¯t, but don¡¯t worry about it. Just help out Neres for me.¡±

    I nodded and turned, breathing heavily again. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t shake the energy inside me. The feeling was beginning to overpower me and make me nauseous.

    Neres winced when he saw me and heaved a sigh. ¡°So you beat Dil then?¡±

    Warily, I nodded. Just because Chrys said they were okay, didn¡¯t necessarily mean they would be. They were just trying to kill me, after all. ¡°This island has no king now.¡±

    Neres chuckled. ¡°It never did. Not really, anyway. That bastard; he was always just trying to flex his power, control what could be controlled, who could be controlled. The fact that he used me for so long is giving me a massive migraine.¡±

    ¡°You need a minute?¡± I asked.

    He shook his head. ¡°Probably a few days, honestly.¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± I agreed. ¡°Chrys said I should help you out with anything you might need to do. Any suggestions?¡±

    Thinking for a moment, Neres said, ¡°You could probably help me take care of the mess he made in the dungeon then.¡±

    I said, ¡°Okay,¡± and he lead me down the hall, up a short flight of stairs and into the massive room that made up the dungeon. It was lacking in cells, instead having a series of chains hanging from the walls and floor, attached to heavy iron balls to help tie down beings that were held prisoner there, and in all four corners of the room were racks that would be filled with weapons, all of which instead were littering the ground in disarray, some broken out right, others lodged in the floor and walls. There were no prisoners, and if there were they were one of the corpses on the ground. The floor was a mess of bodies, most of them appearing fresh from Chrys. Despite the nature of the situation, it made me feel better knowing that he had killed some too, that I hadn¡¯t acted poorly. The feeling I was uncontrollable was becoming worrisome fast.

    ¡°Gather up the weapons for right now, I¡¯ll be back in a minute,¡± Neres said, and he left shortly after.

    Before I was finished aligning the spears on the rack furthest from the door, he was back with a large three wheeled cart. ¡°This is big enough to hold probably ten bodies at a time,¡± he said, groaning with exertion. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t take us more than two or three trips then. We¡¯ll be taking them outside so we can bury them.¡±

    The task was a quiet one. I didn¡¯t know Neres, and now that he wasn¡¯t under someone else¡¯s control his mind was all to himself. Besides, he was picking up the bodies of old comrades, old friends. Even if they weren¡¯t quite themselves, the time they spent together was probably genuine, or as close as it gets. It was better to let him cope quietly while we lined their bodies up on that hard wooden cart. Sometimes I¡¯d catch him maneuvering their hands, petting their wings down so they were less frazzled, shutting eyes. I kept my head down.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he called when we had ten bodies lined up. ¡°Help me push, you grab the right side I¡¯ll take this one.¡±

    ¡°You lead the way,¡± I said, grabbing the rightmost handle. Even with the excess energy, it was heavier than it looked. Once we lifted it up and began moving, I could barely reach the handle and Neres had to adjust himself.

    ¡°Turn right here,¡± he grunted. After the turn was finished and we were on a stretch of hallway, he said, ¡°For a kid as young as you, you¡¯re really strong.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, you¡¯re making me blush,¡± I grunted, struggling to maintain control.

    Neres laughed, ¡°I¡¯m serious. None of us were able to defeat Dil, and we were all trained warriors. For you, some kid to do it¡­ Even with Vastmire on your side, it¡¯s pretty weird.¡±

    I gave him a sidelong glare and he laughed again. ¡°I meant that in the best way possible,¡± he assured me. ¡°Trust me. Chrys probably does too, though he probably won¡¯t say it.¡±

    ¡°Well, thanks I guess,¡± I wheezed. Neres then directed me to turn left, towards a staircase downward. We took it one stair at a time, which was almost more difficult than just running down. I wanted to go faster, but I figured it would be disrespectful to the bodies we towed.

    Wouldn¡¯t want Neres to hold a grudge against me now that he was in control. It would be personal.

    ¡°So what was the deal with Dil anyway?¡± I asked once we got to the bottom. ¡°I mean, he seemed like he had some sort of plan, but from what I can see he was just hanging out here doing nothing. He wouldn¡¯t even get up to fight me.¡±

    Neres was quiet for a while, then he let his handle drop and said, ¡°Let¡¯s rest for a moment, I need a break.¡±

    I let go of my side and we walked a few steps away and sat on the floor, our backs against the wall, Neres¡¯ wing nearest me awkwardly draping me like a feathery blanket¡ªwhich I assumed was his way of putting an arm around my shoulder¡ªand he clucked his tongue, shrugged his shoulders, and finally got his head in order so he could answer me.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a long time,¡± he said. ¡°Very long, in fact. I¡¯m not sure how old any of us are at this point. Things start to meld together when I think about it. And it¡¯s hard for me to really remember what it was like before meeting Dil, but I do know one thing for certain.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked.

    Neres was about to speak, then shook his head. ¡°We were all misfits. Dil would prey on people like that, I think. Easier to manipulate, and he was still young back then, not so adept in his art. He told us this long story about his homeland¡ªours, maybe¡ªback in Pomegranate, that the land wasn¡¯t prosperous because of bigger, more successful countries in the Tamarind sea. We knew we were just poor, that our land wasn¡¯t built for proper harvests, and we accepted it. I think we did. But he had his way, and before we knew it there was a proper militia with all of us ready to launch a full scale attack on the Tamarind, starting with Cashew and working our way south.

    ¡°We had a fleet of boats he had ordered us build, and they were huge and well constructed, homey even. Those days feel enjoyable when I think of them, but I can¡¯t pick details free save for the scenery. The sunset at sea is a glorious thing, just thinking of watching it surrounded by people I cared about is enough to bring my eyes to tears.¡±

    He stopped abruptly, but I was lost in his story so much that I almost didn¡¯t catch that he¡¯d stopped. Once I caught up, I asked, ¡°So what happened?¡±

    ¡°I think,¡± he muttered, ¡°We were shipwrecked. That feels right. Flown off course from Cashew in a storm, we ended up here.¡±

    Getting up to stretch, I asked, ¡°And you guys just stuck it out and stayed here? That¡¯s a weird choice for him, considering he was ambitious enough to try and take over the Tamarind.¡±

    Neres nodded. ¡°Many of us died in that wreck. I think Dil¡¯s spirit was crushed for a while from that. Then everything goes blank.¡±

    ¡°Blank?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hazy. I can remember right up to that point, then my memories get fragmented. The closest memory I have after is all of us training in this castle, and going on my first flight into Cashew with my old mates.¡± Neres shook his head, frustration on his face. He punched his leg hard enough to make the floor vibrate and said, ¡°Dil must have tampered with it. Maybe nothing I remember is real. Dammit¡­!¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± I agreed. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, we should just ask Chrys. He seemed like he broke free of Dil¡¯s influence before he died, so odds are he knows a little more.¡±

    ¡°We can,¡± Neres sighed. ¡°But I doubt he¡¯ll tell us anything. Chrys isn¡¯t much for talking.¡±

    ¡°Even so, it doesn¡¯t really matter now anyway. You¡¯ve got the chance to do whatever you want now. I¡¯d kill for that sort of freedom.¡±

    Neres and I locked eyes then, for the first time as companions. Though his were avian, the emotions of a man were there. ¡°Thank you, young man,¡± he said.

    ¡°It¡¯s Mint,¡± I smiled, and we continued walking the bodies out of the castle.

    After what felt like forever lugging those bodies, we made it to the end of a hall that tapered down like a schute, with a hatch door set at a downward angle. Neres grabbed my side and motioned for me to run up front and open the door for him while he struggled to not run me over, so I opened the door up and quickly rushed back to my spot.

    ¡°Turn left immediately,¡± he grunted. ¡°We¡¯ll stop and take them down one at a time from there so I can keep using the cart.¡±

    Once we got it out there, I stopped and turned to see where we were at. It was the opposite side of the mountains which divided the island in two, and the sun was beginning to peak out over the horizon, ushering in the new day. The light was just dull enough that I rubbed my eyes, unsure of my senses and how correct they may not be.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to make at least six trips,¡± Neres said, hoisting two bodies under each arm. ¡°Just stay here a while, and be careful. It¡¯s a long way down.¡±

    I nodded, and he was gone, leaving me alone.

    As far as I could see, that entire side of the island was a barren waste. I was standing on a landing that should lead to stairs but didn¡¯t, with no railing to keep me safe. I was lucky there was no wind. Everything below was dead, a cemetery for the assumedly beautiful foliage and wildlife which used to graze once pleasant pastures. It was the most destruction I had ever seen in my life, due entirely to the vantage point I had. I¡¯d be hard pressed to say anything since then beat it, at least in terms of surface area.

    When Neres came back for the next two bodies, I asked what happened down there. He stared off at the land below, looking lost. ¡°I should know,¡± he said. ¡°But it¡¯s always been this way for me. This is just where we take that which isn¡¯t needed.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a graveyard?¡± I asked.

    His mind worked it out for a second, and he nodded slowly. ¡°Yes, it is.¡±

    The slow rise of the sun bathed the land in muted colors, drab and out of focus. I rubbed my eyes, but they were too dry from a lack of rest and I irritated them, forcing them to tear up in response. At least, that¡¯s how I remember it.

    After Neres had taken the last bodies down, he stood for a second thinking and said, ¡°I think I¡¯ll just take you down there now so you can start digging.¡±

    Frowning, I asked, ¡°You sure? You¡¯ve still got to make a few trips with this cart and it was hard enough for the two of us already.¡±

    He just nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I think I¡¯ve got a solution for that.¡±

    I might have argued with him more, but by that point the exhaustion was really hitting me. I wasn¡¯t even entirely sure I¡¯d be able to dig the graves up. Neres was probably assuming that my strength was constantly the way it was with Dil, but the only thing I had at that moment were the jitters; my limbs shook constantly, uncontrollably, and it was only getting worse. I tried not to pay attention to it, but it¡¯s hard to focus on something when surrounded by nothing.

    So Neres hoisted me into his arms and flew me down, which was way better than it had been the other times where the harpies would drag me with their talons. This flight was downright pleasant by comparison, and when we landed I felt less like I was being tossed to the ground and more like I was gently floating down to the loamy soil.

    Before Neres flew off, I asked him, ¡°So how do I dig, do you have a shovel I can use or something?¡±

    He shook his head, turned around and flew into the air, shouting down to me, ¡°The soil should be soft enough to dig with your hands! There¡¯s no rush, and I¡¯ll be down to help soon!¡±

    And with that, he was off, and I began my digging of the graves. I thought about how I had left Mango behind to train but I was back tending to fields again, and laughed. Then I wondered if it was weird to laugh about such things, if I were strange for jesting in light of the scenario I was in. Gravediggers aren¡¯t typically ones for good humor, and humor about gravedigging wasn¡¯t typically found to be in good humor. Or at least, that¡¯s what I thought at the time.

    Still, the thought crossed my mind, and it does make me smile still that I spent my days digging up dirt, albeit for largely different reasons.

    Here it was much easier to dig. Sort of, anyway. Had I the tools it would have been, due to how soft the soil was. Instead I was on my hands and knees cupping dirt into a massive pile next to me, trying not to collapse.

    Evidently I did.

    When I came to, I was lying in one of the graves I had made¡ªI say one of, but it may have been the only one, I can¡¯t remember¡ªand Neres stood over me yelling to wake me. I shook my head and yawned, and he gasped, looking distressed.

    ¡°Sorry, I was exhausted,¡± I groaned. ¡°Still am, really. Everything alright?¡±

    Neres tapped his beak nervously. ¡°I think so. Maybe. I¡¯m not sure.¡± When I cocked an eyebrow at him he just grimaced. ¡°Just come out here so you can talk with Chrys. I¡¯ll be back, I still need to grab the last bodies.¡±

    He flew off again, this time much faster. Pulling myself out of the ground, I saw Chrys pacing back and forth haughtily, snorting and pawing at the ground, looking unsure if he should dig or if he should leave. It may have been funny had it not been Chrys. His lack of flowers in his mane was doing him no favors in the scary department.

    ¡°You here to help dig?¡± I asked, giving him a way out. It looked like he just couldn¡¯t figure out what to do.

    Chrys shook his head, however. ¡°We need to talk. Now.¡±

    His tone made my stomach twist. It felt like he was mad, and I wasn¡¯t sure if it was me. I did kill the guy he¡¯d been pining to kill for who knows how long, after all. That had to be a big enough hurdle to get over, let alone the fact that I stabbed him.

    We weren¡¯t having a very good day together.

    I was about to find out it was worse.

    ¡°When you guys went to take care of the fallen, I went back to search Dil¡¯s body,¡± he said, annunciating each word like he was reading a passage for the first time. ¡°I wasn¡¯t clear about why I¡ªwe came here. No one knew, because I couldn¡¯t tell anyone. I wasn¡¯t here just to kill Dil, though that had to be done first. I came to find an heirloom, something very important to me that Dil took from me when we set off together to conquer and garner fame. But when I checked his neck, it wasn¡¯t there.¡± Suddenly he roared, and I grabbed my chest to make sure it was still there. He continued despite it, pacing now in a meandering circle. ¡°I turned the dining hall over. I checked every room. I searched that entire building but there wasn¡¯t a sign at all.¡±

    Breathing as slowly as I could to help bring my energy back to more manageable levels, and reminding myself that Chrys meant me no harm he was simply distraught, I asked him, ¡°You checked the other bodies?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°That¡¯s why I came down here. To tell you and also to check the bodies. It¡¯s a good thing you fell asleep digging so I didn¡¯t have to undo any work, but they¡¯re clean. Nothing was around their neck.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s a necklace then?¡±

    Chrys stiffened, as if he slipped up and told me to much. I smiled slightly. ¡°Chrys, you can tell me. I¡¯m not going to do you wrong and steal it or something.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what it is. If you did, you would want it.¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t need it, whatever it is. Jewelry was never really my thing. Besides, it couldn¡¯t possibly give me what I want.¡±

    We locked eyes, and I made sure not to blink to help him see that I was serious. It was probably unnerving for him, but that was the goal. Scare him into telling me the truth.

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a necklace,¡± he muttered, turning away.

    ¡°You¡¯re cute when you¡¯re bashful,¡± I smirked. He turned and roared in my face, sending spittle everywhere. ¡°Still pretty cute, Chrys. You¡¯ve got a soft side underneath all that fur. But you¡¯re still dancing around the meat of the subject¡ªwhat does the necklace do? You said it¡¯s an heirloom, so I figured initially it was just something that meant a lot to you. But now you¡¯re acting like it¡¯s some magical artifact. So which is it?¡±

    Glaring at me, but with a glint in his eyes, he said, ¡°Both.¡±

    Tapping my fingers against my forearm, I said, ¡°Elaborate.¡±

    ¡°The necklace Dil once wore was the heirloom to the royal family of Pomegranate¡¯s kingdom, Nihm. Dil took it with him when he set off, said it would help cement him as the right and true king of wherever he conquered.¡±

    Nodding, I said, ¡°That lines up with his lunatic logic. But how¡¯s it magical?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure myself,¡± Chrys said, shaking his head. ¡°If I had to describe its power, though, I¡¯d say it¡¯s a good luck charm.¡±

    Chuckling, I said, ¡°Well, that¡¯s all then? If it¡¯s not here we can go get it.¡±

    Chrys blinked. ¡°I can¡¯t leave this island. I¡¯m bound to its soil.¡±

    ¡°Not with Dil gone, you¡¯re not. You¡¯re coming with me, we¡¯ll go find your necklace thing so you can finally be done with all this.¡±

    He just stared at me, looking unsure of what to say.

    ¡°Fine, you don¡¯t have to come with me. I¡¯ll look on my own,¡± I said curtly, turning my attention back to the grave I was previously digging.

    ¡°Wait,¡± he cut me off, now standing in front of me.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    A low growl eased into his throat, not so much angry as it was annoyed. ¡°I will accompany you.¡±

    When he said that, I ran in and gave him a hug. It was the first real time I had shown any sort of affection to him¡ªto anyone, for that matter, since I had left home¡ªand it caught the both of us off guard. I guess I never really considered leaving Chrys alone on that island, I always assumed he¡¯d come with me. Not out of narcissism, though I¡¯m sure that played a part as it often did when I was young. It just felt wrong to leave him behind. There was a lot of emotion in the eyes of Chrys, and it was apparent to me that he needed to get off that island.

    Besides, my selfish side also knew how valuable an asset he would be. We were about to fight a war, after all. A great big scary monster would certainly be welcome on our side.

    Once that was all settled, we dug the remaining graves and began placing the dead underground. Neres returned shortly, with the last of the bodies, and I told Chrys to ask him if he had a necklace or knew of one. He said that he couldn¡¯t remember, and Chrys was visibly perturbed, but we continued digging nonetheless, our job not something to leave unfinished.

    After that, we watched as the sun set and I asked Neres if he would like to accompany us on our journey, but he shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll always support you, my little friend. But my place is here, with the few harpies that yet live. I couldn¡¯t leave my brothers and sisters behind like that.¡±

    ¡°What will you do?¡± I asked him, idly petting Chrys while he lay next to me. He didn¡¯t mind.

    Neres stared out at the horizon and shrugged his massive wings. ¡°We¡¯ll be free.¡±

    And this, as unbelievable as it may have been, is the conclusion of my adventures on that forsaken island to the north.

 Chapter Twenty-Six

    Well, not exactly.

    Nothing of tremendous note happened after the battle with Dil. Neres housed Chrys and I for my remaining week on the island, feeding us and keeping us in good health. We also helped tend to those harpies who were not quite dead, and sure enough a couple actually survived. None of them remembered anything significant, and Neres told me that we should let them rest up and I agreed so we left them alone after this.

    Once I was in good health¡ªor at least, after I had slept and gotten a decent amount of rest¡ªChrys decided to help train me to fight. It was grueling, more so due to the pain in my arms and legs that just wouldn¡¯t go away.

    ¡°I can¡¯t help you utilize Vastmire,¡± he said, ¡°as that is something that is typically natural for people who have it. You¡¯ll come into it as you fight more. Instead, I¡¯ll teach you what I know of fighting. Your skill is good, but still very sloppy.¡±

    We focused primarily on dodging and movement. He really wanted me to focus hard on throwing punches that were more concise, as my moves were very wild and wasted too much energy.

    ¡°If there¡¯s a war you have to fight, you can¡¯t go collapsing for a full day after the first hour of fighting,¡± he¡¯d say, relentlessly drilling it into my head. Though his methods were strict, I could tell right away that he cared immensely about making sure I was better, and by the end of the week I felt like I had gotten even more out of his training than I had from Sage.

    To be fair, though, as I look back on this now, I realize it was Sage who had sent me to the island in the first place, with the purpose of me learning being the primary goal. To say that he played no role would be a disservice to him and all that he did accomplish with me. He planted the seeds, but Chrys was the one who watered them.

    At the end of the week, I was taken down to the south facing beach I came in on, flown there by Neres and one other harpy who carefully dropped Chyrs down with me. When we landed, I was surprised to see that Neres was looking teary-eyed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll return tomorrow to be sure you were picked up,¡± he said, voice wavering only a little but enough to make me feel sad in a way I was unprepared for.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about us, Neres,¡± I tried keeping my composure, but as a kid when people cried I tended to mimic them. Seeing him do so brought me to tears before I could even attempt to hide it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do as I please.¡± He squeezed my shoulder and I gave him a big hug. ¡°I¡¯ll see you again some day, Mint.¡±

    ¡°Yes you will,¡± I said, squeezing tighter.

    After more long goodbyes and tittering over niceties, the two harpies turned their backs on us and flew back to their home. Once they were gone, I wiped my eyes and Chrys sat down next to me in the sand, the wind hitting us with cool and the sun hitting us with warm, a pleasant concoction. I sat down and pulled my knees against my chest, resting my chin on them. ¡°Strange how fast one can bond with another,¡± I sniffed.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°I feel like I really got to know Neres.¡±

    ¡°You did.¡±

    I blinked. ¡°You think so? I wonder.¡±

    ¡°Wonder what? If you can truly bond in such a short time?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I muttered. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense. That I¡¯m this sad, or that he was.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not supposed to make sense.¡± Chrys yawned and folded his paws into a pillow. ¡°Wake me when our ride is here.¡±

    And I sat there, alone with the wind and my thoughts, and the loud snoring of Chrys. Soon enough, the sun was high and I was getting impatient. Getting up as quietly as I could, I started a game that I had begun playing to pass the time at the castle.

    ¡­Okay, maybe it was actually a training exercise that I had been grinding under Chrys¡¯s supervision. It was also fun enough to be a game.

    Basically, it was playing catch with myself. What I did was I¡¯d toss Sage¡¯s knife straight up and before it would start descending I would attempt to leap into the air and catch it. At first this was supremely difficult, damn near impossible really. But the more I did it the easier it became.

    I passed the time with this solo game of catch for quite some time, only stopping when my hands gave out and I couldn¡¯t catch the dagger. It was extremely stupid to play like that, and I was very lucky to not injure myself further.

    My hands had been hurting on and off ever since the fight with Dil and the harpies, and they¡¯d periodically cramp up into a knot so bad I couldn¡¯t move them. I wasn¡¯t sure if I had hurt them in the fight, as at the time I couldn¡¯t remember punching anyone during it, but the pain was agonizing all the same. I sat in the sand, nursing my hands as best I could without being able to massage them properly, all while staring at Sage¡¯s dagger and feeling a sense of pride. The task of keeping it safe was done. Sure, there weren¡¯t many moments where I felt I¡¯d lose it, but there were certainly some close calls and some stupid moments. Once I had time to think and evaluate what I had done during my fighting, I realized it was pretty stupid of me to use the dagger to cut through the Wisp cloak like that without knowing if it was strong enough to withstand things like that. It only worked, from what I could figure, because Vastmire was being used by me. The knife itself didn¡¯t do the cutting, it was only through enhancement that it was able to work as well as it had.

    During my battles with harpies, though, Vastmire wasn¡¯t something in use. The fact that the dagger was able to cut through harpy beaks and talons so smoothly was incredible. When my hands felt somewhat better, I held the dagger in my hands and turned it over, looking for any sort of knick or ding in the metal that could be bad, any crack I had overlooked or something of that nature. The blade itself was almost as pristine as it had been when I first set eyes on it, but the handle looked a bit worse for wear. It could use some polishing and a good wash, but that was all otherwise.

    My face broke into a goofy grin and I put the dagger back in my belt, a hand resting idly on it as I¡¯d grown used to over that month.

    Just as I was getting weary of waiting, and was about to go off in search of mischief, a loud noise carried across the sea to my ears that was familiar and eerie so far away. Even as far away as they were, though, I could clearly see Hammy and Sage barreling toward the island from the horizon.

    Feeling giddy, I ran toward the edge of the beach and jumped up and down, waving my hands around like a fool. ¡°Hey! Sa-a-a-a-ge!¡± I called as loudly as I could.

    Chrys shook himself awake, his mane sounding more like foliage due to the wind.

    ¡°Oh sorry,¡± I said sheepishly. ¡°Our ride to Mango is just about here, though.¡±

    ¡°Is that right?¡± Chrys yawned, stretching out his body like a house cat. ¡°You¡¯re positive this will be okay?¡±

    He¡¯d been asking that ever since I said it would be a good idea for him to travel with me. He never said what was bothering him, but I¡¯m sure the fact that he was a sentient lionesque creature with a mane of flowers like a bouquet for some reason wasn¡¯t helping him not feel as though he would be a little out of place.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Sage has been around. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be okay with you helping us out.¡±

    Chrys nodded, but looked down toward his paws nervously, unsure of himself and the situation he was about to be in. It made me smile; the idea that a big beast like him should feel something of bashfulness or nerves was funny, yet reassuring. Even Chrys had a comfort zone, and he was about to be ripped out of it and tossed from the window down into discomfort yard.

    Sage approached soon enough, Hammy getting dangerously close to being beached and Sage wasting no time in leaping from her head onto the sand. He was unkempt, to say the least; the last time I saw him he was covered in stubble and his hair was a little wild but otherwise alright, now his beard was nearly full despite it only being a month, and his hair had grown more wild, unbrushed and obviously filled with knots. His eyes were a mix of green and red from being bloodshot, and beneath his eyes were deepset, dark rings that reached far down to his cheek bones. New wrinkles had formed in his forehead, or rather became more prominent.

    All of that hit me at once, but the thing that beat out the surprise of his wellbeing was the simple fact that he was there, and I leapt up and hugged him tightly.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s new,¡± he muttered, returning the hug with one arm and ruffling my hair with the other. ¡°You seem to be doing fine, boy. Am I right to say so?¡±

    I nodded, grinning. ¡°I kept your dagger safe,¡± I said, pulling it out from my clothes and handing it to him. ¡°See?¡±

    Sage turned it over, glancing at its condition while he instead studied Chrys, who kept his head low and his eyes locked to Sage¡¯s.

    ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡± he eventually asked.

    ¡°Oh, sorry. This is Chrys, a friend I met here. He helped keep me safe while I was here, even started training me. I learned a lot from him!¡± Sage¡¯s face remained stoic as ever.

    ¡°That right?¡± he asked, and when I was about to answer he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

    Chrys nodded. ¡°If it¡¯s no trouble for you,¡± Chrys began in as polite a tone as I¡¯d heard from him, ¡°I would like to accompany you into battle.¡±

    Sage blinked. ¡°An odd request. What have you to gain? This war is between Avocado and Cashew¡¯s coalition, not something a vagrant beast would have any stake in.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right, in that I have my own reasons. But I owe your son a great deal after what he has done for us here, and it would be a great honor for myself to help him on his journey.¡±

    Shaking his head, Sage muttered, ¡°He¡¯s not my¡­¡± then he sighed and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. Begrudgingly, he asked, ¡°So you swear fealty to the country of Avocado then? You will protect those who fight for us and slay those who wish to do us harm?¡±

    Nodding, Chrys said, ¡°Aye. I¡¯ll guard Mint with my life.¡±

    Sage was more frustrated then but he took a deep breath. ¡°Well, it would do us some good to have a guard for the prince. Fine, you can join us. But I¡¯ll be keeping a close watch on you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Sage. Chrys is a good beastie,¡± I said, petting Chrys unconsciously.

    ¡°For now, I¡¯ll take your word,¡± Sage said. Then he handed his dagger back to me and knelt down to get to eye level with me. We stared at each other for a few seconds, my eyes darting to the dagger in my hands momentarily. He squeezed my arms and said, ¡°Flex.¡± I did, and he smirked. ¡°You¡¯ve done a lot here, I can tell Mint. This was good for you.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I asked, dumbfounded. ¡°I honestly thought I was wasting my time here.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re wrong. It¡¯s obvious you¡¯ve gotten stronger.¡± He trailed his hands down, stopping at mine. A frown appeared on his face then. ¡°Did you use the Vastmire again?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°I think so, yeah. I couldn¡¯t get it to stop once it started, and I think I hurt myself.¡±

    ¡°You did,¡± he agreed. ¡°You most certainly did. I believe I told you already that you aren¡¯t supposed to actually make contact with things when using it, haven¡¯t I?¡± I nodded, not making eye contact. His voice was getting more stern. ¡°I thought so. Come now, Mint. You must be more careful. If you use your body this way, it will be broken before you become a man. I¡¯m surprised you can even hold that dagger.¡±

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be holding it anyway, it¡¯s yours.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve many weapons. You need to have one, and you passed your test in keeping it safe. When we get back, I¡¯ll get you a proper holster for it. But don¡¯t change the subject, boy. Here, put the dagger down for right now and hold out your hands.¡± I complied, and he ripped a cloth off his shirt, revealing his stomach. Wrapping my hands up so the fingers were all touching as if they were in mittens, he asked, ¡°Is that too tight? Wiggle your fingers for me.¡± I did so, and when he was satisfied he got up and took the dagger back. ¡°I¡¯ll hold onto it for right now since you haven¡¯t anywhere to put it and it¡¯ll be harder with your hands like that. Now come on you two, we have to get on Hammy and get back to the island. You can both jump from here, I¡¯m assuming? Or do you need my help?¡±

    I didn¡¯t even bother thinking about it. ¡°I still can¡¯t use the Vastmire at will, so I¡¯ll need help.¡±

    Chrys growled as he often did when he was unsure, a quiet noise that felt unthreatening to me. Sage was unprepared for it though and I saw his body go rigid, his hand tightly gripping the dagger and staying there for a moment while we watched Chrys walk backwards so he could get a running start. Hammy was probably two hundred steps away, and if she were a building her head would be the second floor at least. Chrys burst into a full sprint and right before the water from the sea touched his paws, he leapt into the air and flew across the water at a speed I hadn¡¯t seen from him. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d have thought he was a harpy. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    It wasn¡¯t meant to be, though. Just before he got within maybe twenty steps of Hammy, he began descending rapidly, eventually slapping into the sea with an unremarkable splash. Sage frowned, and I got worried fast.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think he can swim,¡± I said, feeling antsy.

    Sage nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get him out of there in a moment. Here, hold onto me.¡±

    I did, and we flew across the water onto Hammy¡¯s head. My eyes stayed staring at the spot Chrys dropped, ripples still widening and dispersing from where he fell, when Sage whistled loudly and got my attention as well as Hammy¡¯s. ¡°Hammy, down,¡± he commanded, pointing a finger at where Chrys fell. She immediately dropped down, making a much bigger splash than Chrys had. ¡°Stay here a moment,¡± Sage said, removing the remainder of his top, leaving nothing but his pants. Before I could say anything, he dove down under the water and pulled him out, placing him as carefully as he could on Hammy¡¯s head despite him being double Sage¡¯s size.

    They were both sopping wet, and Chrys was coughing up water, but otherwise they were fine. Chrys shook the water free of his fur and flowers and growled out his thanks to Sage. He nodded, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Did you do that jump using Vastmire?¡±

    Chrys shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t use that,¡± he said. ¡°I can only use the sinew of my flesh.¡±

    I made a quizzical noise, and Sage said, ¡°He means he did that using only his body, nothing more. If that¡¯s the truth, then you truly will be an asset.¡±

    ¡°See, I told you,¡± I smirked, breathing a sigh of relief that Sage accepted him and kept him safe.

    Sage smiled, then in the midst of a coughing fit pat Hammy¡¯s head and we were off, back to Mango island. I took one last look back, wondering fleetingly whether or not Neres and his group would be okay alone like that. It would be difficult for them, that much I knew. It was despairing to know I couldn¡¯t go back to aid them as I would have liked, to help them acclimate to society, perhaps even be an ally to our country and live harmoniously with us. Instead, they would be left alone to their own devices. Maybe, I thought, that would be for the best.

    While we sped across the sea, I asked Sage how everything was going back in the archipelago. He grimaced at me and said with eyes squinted by the wind, ¡°We¡¯re as prepared as we possibly can be, but I fear it¡¯s not enough. From what we can surmise, Cashew and their coalition are big enough to dwarf our army by perhaps three times.¡±

    ¡°How long do we have until they arrive?¡±

    Sage shrugged and smiled, grabbing my shoulder. ¡°I haven¡¯t a clue. They could already be there, they could attack us next month, or maybe never see us as a threat and never do so. Our information isn¡¯t as concrete as I¡¯d like it to be. The things Basil learned were good, but not good enough.¡±

    Glaring at him, I said, ¡°He tried though. That¡¯s all we can ask of anyone.¡±

    Nodding, Sage said, ¡°You¡¯re right. But that¡¯s not all that we need.

    ¡°In any case, when we return we¡¯ll have to get you to the new haven we¡¯ve made. The citizens all pulled together and created a great underground shelter for the fighting, it will be the safest place for all the women and children, yourself included. You¡¯ll have your own quarters and¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fighting too,¡± I declared. In my mind, it wasn¡¯t up for negotiation.

    Grunting, Sage shook his head endlessly. ¡°No, no, no. We can¡¯t do that. Even if you were ready to fight, you¡¯re their target. It¡¯s obvious they just want you. So¡ª¡±

    ¡°So why don¡¯t you give me up? Wouldn¡¯t that be an easier course of action?¡±

    ¡°Easier doesn¡¯t mean right.¡±

    ¡°Exactly, so let me fight. I¡¯ve already proved I can do so on more than one occasion now, so it shouldn¡¯t be an issue for anyone if I do it.¡±

    ¡°And both times you¡¯ve hurt yourself! You can¡¯t you even hold this dagger.¡±

    My blood was boiling at this point and I blew up at him. ¡°Look, I know that we aren¡¯t back home, and I know you lived in some empty castle ruling over insects for the past decade or two, but I¡¯m still the prince of Avocado and you will allow me to fight for my country! If they¡¯re after me, then it¡¯s only right that I bring the fight to them, not cower in some underground shelter like a wriggling worm!¡±

    Sage, with all the grace of a hound, grabbed me by the collar and slapped me across the face with enough strength to remove teeth.

    What he didn¡¯t account for was that my clothes had been through hell at this point. The cloth of my shirt tore free, and Sage was left befuddled, holding half my shirt while I tumbled down into the sea in my broken rags. Before I could even realize what was happening, I felt a mound of fur slam into me, then I was swung around and thrown back upward in a vomit inducing few seconds of speed that would make me nauseous for the remainder of our trip across the sea.

    Sage looked from me down to the splash of water below us, back to me, then back to the water before letting the shirt he still held fly in the wind and with a groan of genuine annoyance, threw himself back down into the water to retrieve Chrys.

    When he was back, he dropped Chrys down and shook his head in disappointment, aggravation, a whole spectrum of unhappy emotions. ¡°It would seem I spoke too soon of your friend here,¡± he said before sitting back down on Hammy¡¯s head.

    ¡°I liked you better when you weren¡¯t so uptight,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything,¡± I smirked, turning away.

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak to me like that yo¡ª¡±

    ¡°Let him fight,¡± Chrys interrupted, shaking his fur and splashing water all over us.

    ¡°Be quiet, you speak of things you know nothing about.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t claim to understand what exactly your war is about, since you neglect to inform Mint of its true purposes.¡± Sage visibly twitched, hurt. ¡°And I won¡¯t claim to understand your relationship, as that seems to be an entirely separate problem of which you both are guilty in being pompous, idiotic shitholes.¡±

    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not that pompous,¡± I laughed, winking at Chrys.

    ¡°Be quiet, boy,¡± they both said.

    Growling in frustration, Chrys continued, ¡°But I will say I¡¯ve seen your boy fight on more than one occasion. He¡¯s not perfect, and he has more than a lot to learn about self control, even more to learn about self preservation, not to mention¡ª¡±

    ¡°We get it, geeze, get on with it. I thought you were defending me?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a good fighter. Let him fight.¡±

    Sage sighed, still not convinced. ¡°I hear what you¡¯re saying, and I¡¯m sure you aren¡¯t lying. It¡¯s obvious, as I pointed out earlier, boy, that you are much stronger than you were when you left. You¡¯re better than you were when I met you by a long shot. If anyone told me that the little scholar with a sickly complexion and a history of rude comments would become a respectable fighter, I¡¯d have thought you were lying. But you¡¯ve improved, and will continue to improve as you get older.

    ¡°The issue here is that the stakes are much higher than you think. I can¡¯t¡­ I shouldn¡¯t tell you why this war is happening. It¡¯s too dangerous for you to know.¡±

    ¡°Dangerous for me to know?¡± I repeated, my voice raising again. I bit back, snorted air out like a bull. ¡°In what way? Do they have thought soldiers? Mind readers from countries away? What danger is there in my knowing?¡±

    ¡°If you know, you might not take it well. That¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Might not take it well?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t have you getting emotional right now. I¡¯ll tell you after we drive back the army. Then you can have some time to think about it and figure out what it is you want to do.¡±

    Frowning, I remained silent and defiant the remainder of our ride to Mango. Chrys, not being much of a conversationalist, did nothing to amend this and Sage was in no mood to break the silence either. The ride was longer than it should have been; my hands hurt more than they had before.

    Once we made it back to Mango, the sun was low and nearly gone, dimming the details I was able to see. Even so, the difference in its appearance was apparent. The entire island had a wall wrapping around its edges, edges which pressed as far into the beach as possible without being structurally poor. The fact such defenses were created in such a short time was absolutely astounding to me, knowing who lived there and what we were working with. The only explanation was that there were more people there than had been before. Either that, or Vastmire granted super speed construction powers that I was not privy to, but even as a young boy I knew that to be a silly notion.

    When we landed, Sage turned to Hammy and pat her snout with a tired affection. ¡°Make your rounds and take a rest girl, you earned it,¡± he murmured, and she cooed as softly as a beast as large as she could, drifting off to circle Mango for a while.

    We walked up to the wall, and I realized very quickly there was no door. I opened my mouth but Sage held a finger to me, shushing. He grabbed me and jumped over the wall, dropping me gently to the ground as Chrys landed beside us. The inside of the island was filled with even more walls. It was almost more labyrinthine than it had been when I lived there before. Each wall was as high as the one surrounding the island. I pressed my hand to the wall, pushing as hard as I could, but it wouldn¡¯t budge. It felt moist despite its resiliency, and I asked Sage what it was made from but he kept his back to me and took his time to reply.

    ¡°We mixed the remnants of the homes we had and the soil on the island to create a partially earthen structure. It grows stronger in the heat, and the island is still hot despite being close to autumn. It¡¯s not perfect, but it will do for our needs. Now come,¡± he said, walking to the right, towards a dead end. When we got about four steps away from touching the outer wall, he stopped and knelt down, feeling around on the ground for something. Once found, he yanked on it hard, letting out a groan of hearty exertion. He lifted a door up, leading to an underground stairwell.

    Chrys and I walked down warily, unsure of what to expect. Torches lit the ambient hall, and it was extremely cramped as far as vertical space was concerned, with Chrys having to dip his head down slightly to keep from scraping the ceiling, and Sage slouching slightly to accommodate his head.

    Sage lead us down the hall for a long while, and I saw no one the whole way until we got to a much larger space. There was a short flight of stairs down, thankfully granting us all more space, and we were now in a large, square dining hall with four long tables of stone, lined with many stones to sit on. Everyone was there it seemed. People who I had never spoken to before lit up upon seeing me, waving and calling out, and I realized with increasing excitement and dread that Rose and her mother might be here, awaiting my return. My face got hot, and Chrys nudged me with concern.

    Holding a hand up for silence, Sage walked forward accompanied by nothing but the echo of his footsteps. He passed the four makeshift tables, making his way to the back of the room where awaiting him was a single stone to sit on, resting against the wall and marked by two torches on either side. Presumably a makeshift throne, I thought. Sage took a seat and steepled his hands, crossed his legs, surveying everyone with a discerning, calculating gaze. His eyes flashed a vibrant green momentarily before he spoke.

    ¡°Save for those watching our border, it would seem that everyone is accounted for here,¡± he boomed, his voice vibrating against the walls so loudly I began to feel small. ¡°Good, then I can speak openly of what is to come. These next few days will likely be difficult, as it will be easy for the enemy to surmise our location now that the prince has returned.¡±

    A murmur made its way through the room, silent and loud all at once. Sage held up a hand once more and it stopped.

    ¡°Prince Peppermint Avocado, would you please come this way with your ward so everyone may see you?¡±

    Reluctant, I pat Chrys on the head and muttered, ¡°Come,¡± making our way up to Sage. It was then that everyone really began to stare at Chrys, and the air in the room seemed to grow stale. I stood to Sage¡¯s left, and Chrys sat at my side, tail swishing in mild amusement. I¡¯m sure for him it was strange, to be the center of attention after all his time spent on Clementine. It was equally strange for me; being introduced as a prince only to be the least important person in the eyes of the audience. A blow to my fragile, youthful pride.

    ¡°These two are to be not only accepted in our society as guests, but protected. Peppermint will be of the greatest concern for us, as our enemy wants to take him for themselves. If we allow him to be stolen from us, we lose regardless of whether or not they spare us. Is that clear?¡± he asked, enunciating clearly so everyone understood. The room nodded collectively, a few ¡°Ayes,¡± rumbling in the crowd. ¡°Good. Now back to the matter at hand.

    ¡°In the next week, give or take a few days based on weather and other contingencies, our enemy will be here to storm our small island. They number, as I¡¯ve been informed, an army of forty thousand strong.¡±

    This brought the room into an uproar, myself included. My eyes bulged out of my head and I spun on Sage to be sure he said it correctly. In my ear all I could hear was dissent.

    ¡°Forty damn thousand? We¡¯re doomed¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s over four times what we¡¯ve got here.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to do the math, you fool! It¡¯s well over that!¡±

    ¡°What are we going to do?¡±

    Sage, once again flexing his power as ruler of the archipelago, hushed the room with a hand. ¡°Cease your musings. I wouldn¡¯t bring the prince back here if I didn¡¯t think we could protect him, now would I? No, I know we can drive them off. Just believe in me, and¡ª¡±

    ¡°King Sage!¡± barked an impressively sized man in the center of the crowd. ¡°I¡¯m all for keeping the young boy safe, don¡¯t you misunderstand. But¡­ you must see it, yes? That we are heavily outclassed, outarmed, outmanned, and, in a word, doomed. You see that right?¡±

    Smiling, Sage just picked up where he was, ¡°¡ªand allow me to finish.¡±

    The large man gulped audibly and brightened to a pink hue.

    ¡°There are a few things that the coalition army will not be prepared for when coming here. Currently, the entire world has no idea that there is a king at all here in the Orange Archipelago, nor does anyone know that the king is me. Every single warrior here has been trained to fight as well as I, and I know you are all just as capable as any coalition general or commander.

    ¡°Our larders are also filled with food, whereas the coalition will be running on whatever they have to last them. We don¡¯t necessarily have to beat the incoming army in one or two days. In fact, it would be better for us to conserve our energy and keep them on the beach for as long as possible. Their boats can¡¯t hold much more than thirty days worth of food if they ration it properly. Our battle will not be won with swords, but with hunger.

    ¡°I believe in each and every one of you. Get as much rest as you can in these next few days, and enjoy your dinner.¡±

    Sage got up from his seat and motioned for me and Chrys to walk up some steps and down a very narrow hall. By this time, I realized that I had been in the soldier¡¯s dining hall and not with people who would be considered normal citizens of the islands. After walking a while, I said to Sage, ¡°I feel like you did more harm than good back there.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡± he asked, a bite to his voice he couldn¡¯t hide.

    ¡°All you really did is give them facts that will eat away at their morale. No one even clapped when you were finished speaking, they were all just more scared than when you walked in. If anything you should have lied to them about how many soldiers were coming so they might maintain a level of heightened morale.¡±

    Frowning, Sage turned to me, his eyes looking more bloodshot than ever. ¡°What would you say if I told you I did lie? That there were more soldiers on their way than a mere forty thousand?¡±

    My body went cold, clammy.

    ¡°There¡¯s more?¡±

    He nodded.

    ¡°How many?¡±

    Shaking his head, he said, ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but there are more than likely close to double that number.¡±

    ¡°Then why did you¡ª¡±

    ¡°I lied, boy, so that they won¡¯t go splurging their energy on the first day. I have seven days to build their morale back up. They would have noticed the number of enemies right away, so a number as intangible as forty thousand but still in the realm of possibility is much better to tell them so they ask no questions later.¡± He saw my face, and he ruffled my hair and smiled, looking closer to how he was when I met him in that moment. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mint. I know I don¡¯t always seem like it, but I''m a pretty good fighter myself. I know we can win, and I¡¯ll do it with my own hands if I have to.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a plan then?¡±

    He nodded, turning a corner into another long hall. ¡°Oh yeah.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, eager.

    Sage just chuckled to himself. ¡°The plan is not to die.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Seven

    The halls of the underground ¡°haven¡± as Sage had called it seemed to go on forever and ever, feeling almost larger than the island it was housed beneath. It took us ages to get to the civilians hall, where we finally started to see people who were in regular clothes and of reasonable size and shape, and doors leading to humble, empty hovels that were probably as well liked as the poor housing above ground was.

    We eventually turned a corner and were greeted with an entryway which led to a plethora of hallways to choose from, and Sage bent down to my ear and brought me closer. ¡°Remember the order of this well,¡± he said. ¡°We dug this to be a great maze so that the enemy, should they come down here, must follow the correct order to reach your room.¡±

    ¡°Did you make sure I have a quick way to get to some food or anything?¡± I asked, worry in my voice. We had been walking for a long time, and it wasn¡¯t looking like it would be easy to get back up above ground from where I¡¯d be housed, or even make it to the dining hall.

    Sage, however, just smiled and ruffled my hair before continuing toward the left hall. ¡°You¡¯ll make do,¡± he said.

    The order of halls to take was simple enough, and was repeated throughout the walk to my quarters: left, left, middle, right, middle, right, left, left. This sequence would lead to a long, narrow hall that was not quite big enough for Chrys to get through easily. ¡°We weren¡¯t expecting you to bring a guest,¡± Sage commented on it when Chrys attempted to squeeze through. ¡°We¡¯ll try and accommodate you, though.¡± Of course he really meant no one would feel safe around this monster you brought back. Better make it easier for him to go unseen.

    So, leaving Chrys at the entrance to my hall, Sage accompanied me to my room.

    He removed a key from his pocket and gave it to me. ¡°There¡¯s only this one,¡± he whispered to me, as if people might be listening in. ¡°Make sure not to lose it, okay?¡±

    Gripping it tight, I nodded and unlocked the door, which was surprisingly sturdy considering the doors in the civilian hall. It felt like it may have been made of the same material the outer walls were, a reinforced earth and wood construction. It was heavy enough that I had to put my back into it.

    Once I got inside, it appeared that all the high quality was wasted on my own defenses. The room was lined with hearty reinforcement, so that no one could go digging into the room presumably. Otherwise, however, my room was simply a lonely bed of hay.

    ¡°You bring me to my prison cell?¡± I asked Sage with all the arrogance an adolescent can muster.

    Sage glared at me with a level of displeasure I had ill believed conceivable prior to that moment. ¡°Sit.¡±

    I did so without making eye contact, resting at the edge of my bed so as not to sink in. He chose to sit on the floor, still somehow at eye level with me. From inside his shirt, he pulled free a flask and sipped long,  his face sour.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how much time I have where it¡¯s possible to speak with you frankly,¡± he began, his voice a darker tone than usual. ¡°So allow me to speak to you free of interruptions. I know that¡¯s hard for you, so I¡¯ll let you interrupt me right now only if you agree that you will stay quiet, just for a moment. Can you do that for me?¡±

    He gave me the option, but I didn¡¯t even speak. I just nodded and looked down at the floor.

    ¡°Good,¡± he said, went to take one last sip of his drink, found it empty and put the flask in his shirt, disappointed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to be honest with you, your prison comment? It¡¯s not wrong. And I know from experience, trust me. As someone who is so ridiculously in tune with Vastmire as you, with as much potential as you have, you will always be hopping from ¡®haven¡¯ to ¡®haven,¡¯ and there really isn¡¯t any way for me to dress this up nicely for you. Some prisons will be nicer than others, and this will certainly be one of your least favorite prisons I¡¯m sure. But you will either get used to it, or you¡¯ll do what I never could and always wanted to do.

    ¡°In my younger days, I was desperate to change the perception of those who used Vastmire from bloodthirsty war machines to people with feelings who could be real leaders, who could be compassionate, caring, familial men and women. Unfortunately,¡± he sighed, as if the air were punched from him, ¡°it seems more and more each day I will expire before I can see a world like that, free from the prejudice of people like us.

    ¡°We are once again forced to fight for our right to choose, not to be chosen. That fight is one that earned me my prison, the castle in Avocado, and my unnecessary and useless title of the duke. Sage is a name spoken of in passing, a curse, a spell; I am to many individuals a ghoul of the night.

    ¡°I created the settlement here at the Orange Archipelago for multiple purposes. It¡¯s a safe haven for war orphans and broken families, a place free from political turmoil and the hardships of our bigger, more developed civilizations. But in all honesty the biggest and most selfish reason I made settlement here was to escape my prison undetected. This place was where I would go to feel free, for just a few days. I¡¯d go when I knew no one would come to check on me, which grew more and more as the years passed and even your mother, the queen, seems to have forgotten my own existence. When you met me, they hadn¡¯t checked on me in months.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± he finally said, running fingers through his hair, ¡°I¡¯m rambling right now. My point is that though this feels like a prison, and it probably is a prison to you, I want you to do your best to feel comfortable and try hard to realize my dream. A dream of no prisons will be achieved someday by someone like us, of this I am sure. And I owe it to you to at least tell you why I came to rescue you from your mother¡ªwho I feel necessary to point out, by the way, was imprisoning you. Does all of this make sense? Do you at least understand where I¡¯m coming from?¡±

    Nodding I finally looked him in the eyes. ¡°I think I do. I just have one question.¡±

    ¡°Anything,¡± he said as he got up and stretched, looking ready to go.

    ¡°Do you actually feel free here? On these islands I mean.¡±

    He gave me a sad smile before opening the door and said, ¡°For moments, sometimes. But I know the truth, as I¡¯m sure you know too. Stay safe for me, boy.¡±

    And with that I was left alone, to my own devices.

    ?????  ??? ?? ?

    There was little to do as far as occupying myself in that room, so you can imagine my delight when I heard the roar of Chrys interrupting my brooding inner monologue. Whipping the door open, I gave him a quizzical look and he jerked his head to the right.

    ¡°This way. Some people have come to visit you and they won¡¯t go away.¡±

    When I got to the end of the hallway, I just about teared up. Everyone I was wanting to see was there waiting for me; Basil was standing there with a big grin on his face, his overall countenance a general improvement over what it was prior to my leaving; Conifer was there, plucking away at his guitar to a jovial tune to set the mood; Parsley was laughing away, her arm around Conifer¡¯s neck and looking as if she were absolutely in love; and Rose stood there, radiant as ever, her cheeks rosey and her eyes too strong for me to look at for longer than a few seconds, she held out a hand and I took it gladly, ready to speak to her about everything on my adventure.Stolen novel; please report.

    I recounted the whole thing, where Chrys had come from and that he was safe to be near, and we all sang songs with Conifer playing and it was a great time.

    Basil eventually asked me, ¡°So have you heard the news?¡±

    And I asked, ¡°What news?¡±

    Conifer and Parsley looked at each other, looking more and more in love by the second. ¡°We¡¯re engaged,¡± they said in unison, and everyone clapped, including myself.

    ¡°That¡¯s great!¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it wonderful?¡±

    Then Conifer continued his guitar playing, slowing it down and deepening the tone, going darker, and darker, until the sound permeated the room and the world dimmed, and everyone¡¯s faces were shrouded deep in shadow and I felt nauseated but couldn¡¯t leave.

    Without warning, everyone began falling and crying, bathed in glossy red blood, their faces all permanent screams with taut muscles and bug eyes. I backed away but wasn¡¯t fast enough, and I heard laughter as a blade of insurmountable length impaled me. From the shadows a boy stepped forward, about my age.

    His hair was a dusty mix of brown and green, his right eye brown, his left eye green, his expression the same as I¡¯d always known it.

    ¡°Sumac?¡± I croaked out.

    His thin lips became an invisible line, an unseen smile.

    When he spoke, his voice was a whisper of sounds I couldn¡¯t understand.

    ????? ??? ?? ?

    My body lurched from my bed in a flash of stiff, brutal agony. I felt around my chest; no hole. Searching around, I quickly realized that there was nothing for me to wash the sweat from my body and so instead just removed my clothes to cool off.

    Trying to swallow my heart back into my chest, I opened the door of my room and called out to Chrys. ¡°Are you awake?¡±

    He shook himself and got up like a dog, though with less eagerness in his movement.

    ¡°Any chance you could find some water for me? There isn¡¯t any in here and I need some. My mouth is a desert.¡±

    Chrys left without a word, and I returned to my room and sat down for a while, airing myself out from the heat I made. To this day, nightmares make my body turn volcanic and I¡¯m unsure why.

    It wasn¡¯t long before I finally returned fully to my senses, processed everything that had happened, and realized I was a fool for sending Chrys off on his own. There were a lot of people who saw him on the way in, but there were probably an equal amount who knew nothing of his existence and would be¡­

    Well, surprise doesn¡¯t really do justice to the feeling one has when meeting Chrys for the first time.

    Throwing my pants back on but leaving my shirt off for now, I jogged back out to the hallway to find Chrys, but upon reaching the first crossroads I remembered how much of a maze the place was. What was the route again? Right, left, left¡­ shit. I didn¡¯t know at all. Proverbial tail between my legs, I sulked back to my room, looking over my shoulder constantly. I wanted to go find Chrys, it would be better than him being found by someone who wasn¡¯t accepting. But if I got lost, the situation would be no better.

    Sage should have left me a map or something.

    Before I turned the corner to the hall for my room, I bumped into what I thought was the wall when in fact it was a person. Shaking my head, I said, ¡°Sorry about that, I should be looking at where I¡¯m going more.¡±

    ¡°Mint?¡±

    I stopped in my tracks.

    ¡°Basil? Is that you?¡±

    He smiled down at me, then gave me a hug with his free arm which I gladly returned. He was warm. When I pulled back I saw that he was still looking a little rough around the edges; his face was covered in a scrappy beard and he wore clothes that were weeks overdue to be changed, faded to such a discolored state that they may as well have been no color at all. I had a ton of questions for him, but before I could ask those I asked instead, ¡°I smell something good. Did you bring me food?¡±

    Grinning, he nodded and said, ¡°Yes, along with a friend of yours. Looked a bit lost, he did.¡± He pointed behind him to Chrys, and I sighed with relief.

    ¡°Good, I was just about to go looking for him but it¡¯s an absolute maze down here. I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s so difficult to navigate.¡±

    ¡°Hmph,¡± Basil said, looking concerned. ¡°Let¡¯s get you back in your room then, get some food in you.¡±

    ¡°Did you bring water?¡± I asked, ready for disappointment.

    ¡°Of course,¡± he responded, bringing out a container and jiggling it to show me it made the familiar sloshing sound of liquid.

    I grabbed the bag he held in his hand and splayed the contents out across a blanket on the floor. In that bag was a full entree of delectable food only Basil could have made on that island with limited resources. The first thing was a bowl of soup, hot but not unedibly so, and it tasted cozy, as if it were made of memories and plush bed companions. A pleasant kick accompanied the rich flavor of the sea, and washing it down with water was absolutely refreshing. On the side was an assortment of pastries, each sporting its own signature flavor that was sweet and accompanied by delightful citrus.

    ¡°How did you make all this?¡± I asked Basil, mouth stuffed with food.

    ¡°Believe me, it wasn¡¯t easy,¡± he chuckled. ¡°But that¡¯s not what I¡¯d like to talk about. How did your training go? You seem different.¡±

    Finishing what I was chewing, I shrugged and drank some more water. ¡°Maybe. Still not really sure if you could say I¡¯m stronger, but I¡¯ve certainly got more experience.¡±

    ¡°Well, we all get stronger from our experiences,¡± he said. ¡°Your friend out there¡­¡±

    ¡°Chrys?¡±

    Basil frowned. ¡°You named him?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Made it easier to talk with him, having a name and all.¡±

    ¡°You talk with him?¡±

    Adjusting my sitting position to something more digestion friendly, I nodded. ¡°He¡¯s not much of a conversationalist, but sometimes you can really get him going. In fact, sometimes I can¡¯t get the guy to shut up. He¡¯s not so bad when you get to know him though. I know he looks a little mean but¡­¡± Basil stared at me with increasing discomfort. ¡°Wait, what¡¯s this all about?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what he is, do you?¡± he asked, his voice lowering to a whisper. I shook my head and he leaned closer to me. ¡°He¡¯s a Miric, a creature of the Vastmire.¡± I stared at him blankly, unsure of how to respond to that. Which wasn¡¯t what he was looking for, so he rolled his eyes and further clarified, ¡°In the past people referred to his kind as demons, monsters, demigods, those sorts of things.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± I said, still not really seeing his point. ¡°So he¡¯s bad or something? Or at least, the world will think he¡¯s bad? Is that it?¡±

    ¡°In a word, yes! Be careful with him.¡±

    Shrugging, I said, ¡°Thanks for the advice, but you shouldn¡¯t think me foolish.¡±

    Leaning closer, he looked over his shoulder as if Chrys were listening in. ¡°You plan to kill him? Or are you using him? Does he know about the encroaching army?¡±

    ¡°Uh, nah. Actually he¡¯s my friend.¡±

    Basil just about blew up.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re taking this well,¡± I smirked, eating another pastry. It was so delicious, I don¡¯t actually remember what Basil said. Probably something along the lines of:

    ¡°Wahhh, don¡¯t keep the beast monster! Wahhh, it¡¯s potentially dangerous! Wahhh, wahhh, wahhhhhhh!¡±

    What, Basil doesn¡¯t talk like that? Well he sure did sound like that while I was eating that delicious, absolutely incredible pastry of his. I think it had a banana in it, perhaps some chocolates too. Oh it was good.

    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re done whining, why don¡¯t you go talk with Chrys and see for yourself how dangerous he is?¡± I said, rubbing my stomach.

    ¡°Talk with him? How?¡±

    I laughed harshly, sounding more like the old me by the second. ¡°Just speak to him? I don¡¯t know, I can¡¯t teach an old man how to talk.¡±

    ¡°Old? I¡ªhmph! Well fine. Just know I don¡¯t support this, Mint. He might seem fine now, but a beast is a beast no matter what.¡±

    Sticking my tongue out to see him off, he left in a huff and certainly didn¡¯t take the time to speak with Chrys.

    When I settled back down, I fell back into my bed with a heavy sigh and wished I had been nicer to Basil. And, I thought, I should have asked him to find Conifer and the others and send them my way.

    As time passed and it felt like it might have been night, I slept with the door open so I could see Chrys through it. Something about that room made me miss our dingy cave we¡¯d sleep in, both wounded animals, yet kindred and, most importantly, together.

    Before I fell asleep, Chrys turned and laid down facing me. We watched each other down the narrow hall, and I fell soundly asleep.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight

    The days that followed all blended together seamlessly due to having no signs of time passing down there. For the most part my days were spent doing a lot of nothing, living in my own head, thinking about things too hard and struggling to get up. It¡¯s crazy how the simplest things can become so difficult, right? There were knights in my stories who would accomplish more before breakfast than I accomplished in the time I spent in that room.

    There¡¯s a lot of things I probably should have been doing. For one, I should have been training, but my hands and legs were still in a lot of pain from before and I was only just getting good enough to hold my utensils properly. For two, I had no motivation, and couldn¡¯t find it no matter how much I wished and prayed for it alone on my bed.

    I could have been going over things in my head that actually mattered, such as how to go about earning Sage¡¯s trust as a warrior¡ªwhich, you guessed it, would probably involve me training and being well disciplined. But I was young, and didn¡¯t think I needed that sort of thing. Or rather I knew I needed it and didn¡¯t care.

    Instead, though, the big thought that was stuck in my head during this time? Well, there were two actually and they overlapped with each other quite a bit. The first thing that really hit me was that my birthday had passed and I hadn¡¯t even noticed. At least, I was pretty sure it had passed. After all, we were approaching winter and my birthday was in the middle of fall, around the time the trees were typically changing colors and the weather was becoming perfect, the air smelling sweet with the melancholic beginnings of death. Now the air was becoming harsher and more difficult to breathe in, which meant I was fourteen.

    A lot bothered me about that. There was no celebration, though typically I never really had one anyway. Sure, my mother would throw us a feast and invite plenty of diplomats, royalty, and usually famous entertainers of some kind like traveling performers or the most loquacious of songwriters she could afford, more so to draw attention to our wealth and importance than it was to celebrate me. Usually I spent my day in my quarters, studying away so that I could carve out my path and realize my dream of sending men to die for me and my causes, to spend more on myself than others, and to bring intelligence into my country more than war.

    Funny how much of that had changed in a short few months. Now I was desperate to learn to fight for myself, and to defend people who before I wouldn¡¯t so much as glance at.

    The second thing I was thinking of was my mother. The longer I was away, the more people were trying to tell me that she was a bad queen, and a worse person. And despite all the evidence, circumstantial or otherwise, I never thought she was anyone other than my mother. I was convinced that no matter how much she could do wrong, I would never not love and care for her. My doleful days of self reflection were filled with a lot of back and forth over this with me and myself, and I¡¯m not even certain of what I ended up feeling in the end. Did I think she was bad? Good? Perhaps even then I wasn¡¯t sure. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised; indecisiveness is a strength of mine.

    Aside from that, I had a few encounters with people between then and the climax of my younger, more childish days. This might not be in the correct order, and the distance between each meeting is blurry at best, so I¡¯ll simply list this in no particular order, just the order in which I can remember them.

    I did meet with Conifer. He came as quietly as he possibly could, but was stopped short by Chrys who I¡¯m sure he was either unaware of, unprepared for, or simply scared of. I heard a noise coming from outside and went to see what it was about, and when I got to the edge of my hall I saw him trembling against the wall, withering away in fright, the sound of his instrument tap tap tapping against his fingers, reverberating along the walls. Chrys was simply sitting, licking his forepaw with a glazed look in his eye.

    ¡°Conifer?¡± I said, straight-faced. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Mint! Get away from him, he¡¯s a beast I tell you! A demon in a fur coat! A bouquet mimic! A¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey, hey, hey! Take it easy, Conifer, he¡¯s a friend of mine.¡± To further clarify it for him, I casually leaned my arm against Chrys like he was a shelf and rested my chin on him. Which of course prompted Chrys to growl and almost ruin it. ¡°Just hush, Chrys. Conifer¡¯s a good man, and you¡¯re enjoying this too much.¡±

    He huffed and got up so I had to get off him. ¡°Fine, just don¡¯t do that again,¡± he growled.

    ¡°Tough guy,¡± I smirked. Walking over to Conifer, I lifted him up and made sure he was alright before asking if he¡¯d like to come sit in my room.

    ¡°Anything to get away from him!¡± he muttered and scurried off down the hall, avoiding all eye contact with Chrys, who just snorted and went back to sleep. He sat on my bed and I rested my back against the wall, crossed my arms and sighed.

    ¡°He¡¯s actually pretty nice when you get to know him,¡± I said. ¡°And you will get to know him. He¡¯s my bodyguard now.¡±

    Looking downcast, Conifer began tuning his guitar. ¡°Well he¡¯s very good at guarding. Scary looking thing! Where did you find him at?¡±

    ¡°Actually, he found me,¡± I laughed. ¡°Almost killed me too, but I managed to get the best of him. Now we¡¯re companions, no bad blood between us.¡±

    Nodding toward my battered hands, he asked, ¡°Is that how that¡­?¡±

    ¡°Nah, that was something else,¡± I said, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Sage says it¡¯s from misusing the Vastmire. I¡¯ve just got to get better at using it and things like this won¡¯t happen.¡±

    Still tuning the guitar, he said, ¡°Good, you¡¯re practicing then?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I lied.

    ¡°Good, good.¡± When his instrument was completely tuned he nodded to himself in satisfaction and finally looked me in the eyes. A smile slipped into his face. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re back, Mint. We were all worried about you, y¡¯know? Especially Rose, she spoke of you everyday.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I asked, a little too excited. To this day, the simple insinuation that a lady might be interested in me send my body into shock like poison in my blood.

    He nodded, plucked a string and snapped it accidentally. ¡°Dammit,¡± he mumbled, then louder, ¡°Damn, damn!¡±

    Absently, I asked if he was alright. He just looked down, frustrated and throwing more baggage in the cage of his head. When he was content, he flipped his hair out of his face, annoyed but cool. ¡°Sorry. Anyway, yes we were worried. What happened on that island, what was it? Clementine?¡±

    So I told him all there was to tell about my time on the island. Sage and Basil were mostly indifferent towards what happened and were much more concerned with the results, so this was my first real time actually relaying the story. I¡¯m sure I embellished it, more so than I have here even. When you¡¯re that age, self control is some unachievable cloud in a sky that seems forever out of reach. Conifer played a simple tune using the remaining strings on his guitar, and though he was obviously perturbed at his lack of options, the song was sonically pleasant and the right background noise for me to tell everything to him. In some ways, his music is a lot like the songs of a charmer, bringing out whatever it is he seeks from whomever he seeks it from.

    As I was wrapping up the tale, he said, ¡°Sounds like you went through a lot.¡±

    Feeling wistful, I said, ¡°Yeah,¡± and trailed off into that somber headspace I kept returning to.

    ¡°Have they told you anything about this battle that¡¯s supposed to be coming up?¡± he asked, strumming a rhythm that was sharp and strange from the missing string, unintentionally creating a suspenseful atmosphere where there shouldn¡¯t have been.

    ¡°Not really,¡± I said. ¡°All I know is that I can¡¯t fight because I¡¯m too important.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s why you¡¯re here in this room,¡± Conifer affirmed. ¡°Good riddance, too. Honestly it¡¯s horrible in the civilian district down here. Everyone is on edge and our rhythm is off without the sun and moon to guide us. Plus our jobs are finished and we only have use as fighters, so those of us who are unable to contribute in the making of war are now sitting with our thumbs up our asses, trying not to kill each other out of boredom and worry.¡±

    It made a lot of sense hearing him say it like that, but I still replied with a shrug, ¡°I¡¯d still feel more comfortable hanging out with you guys again. I¡¯ve got Chrys to talk with and all, but¡­ I¡¯ve really missed you guys a lot, the little family we had was nice.¡±

    Conifer made a sour face at that. ¡°It was,¡± he said.

    Finally putting his instrument down, he stretched out his back and said, ¡°It¡¯s best you don¡¯t get to fight anyway. They say the army coming here is going to be packed with all the strongest warriors they could round up in the Tamarind. If that Bitter fellow shows up again, I don¡¯t know how you could handle it in your current state.¡±

    Of course, he was right. Bitter had nearly bested me before, and I was only able to get in a shot against him because we were unaware of what I could do. Now he knew, and would be on guard next we meet.

    Still, I said, ¡°For me, I don¡¯t really care about that.¡±

    ¡°You should,¡± Conifer raised his voice, sounding more paternal.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about whether or not I live or die,¡± I said. ¡°I just want to feel more in control I guess. Everyone is fighting for me and I just have to sit back and watch. It¡¯s hard.¡±

    Suddenly, he took on a darker face. Conifer got up and said, ¡°No one is fighting to protect you, Mint. They fight for a number of reasons, but I can safely say that not a single soldier on this island save for maybe Sage care about you, who you are, or what you stand for. To most, you are simply a scapegoat. There are plenty of people who speak ill of you all the time in the civilian district, people who think of you as the whole reason everyone is to die soon. And some revel that you exist at all, happy to be of use in war. More still could care less, and fight simply because they know they must survive. But¡ªI say this as a¡­ as a friend. No one fights for a prince they know nothing about, a prince who might not even actually be a prince and certainly doesn¡¯t show himself. They fight because of you, against you, and without you, never for you.¡±

    The words came out harsh, and by the end of it he sounded more sad than angry. It was all stuff I immediately understood, but didn¡¯t really care about. I guess growing up the way I did I was used to it. Without seeing it for myself though, and without feeling like a real prince, his speech felt very meaningless to me.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± I said. ¡°Thank you for visiting.¡±

    He nodded, and he was off, his words and his music lingering still in the air. The string that had broken was on the ground where he had sat, and I remember picking it up and twirling it in my fingers over and over, etching the texture in my skin.

    ?????  ?????  ?

    Next was a visit from Parsley and Rose. I was surprised that Conifer wasn¡¯t with them, but was too happy to see them to ask why. When they showed up, I didn¡¯t hear a noise from outside, instead hearing a knock at the door. When I opened it, Rose and Parsley were there, Parsley holding a blanket that appeared to be warm fleece, and Rose holding a cup filled with something steaming. It was aromatic¡ªperhaps tea? If I¡¯m honest, I can¡¯t remember. Her visit was a surprise, and I was wearing no shirt and feeling a boyish gaiety that betrayed my feeling immediately, and my skin heated to unsurvivable degrees. They were both looking more worse for wear than when I recalled seeing them before, obviously under strain from all the goings on around them. Still, Rose was an absolute joy to look at, the sort where you enjoy it so much that you can¡¯t possibly feel comfortable looking and being known to do so, instead trying to glance from the shadows of conversation, unaware that everyone is able to see you, as if you wore pink camouflage in the middle of the ocean during winter time.

    They sat on my bed together, and I stood against the wall as I had when Conifer came to visit. Parsley gave me a thoughtful look and said, ¡°Don¡¯t allow us to impose you so, dear. Sit with us, be comfortable in your own abode!¡±

    I smirked, ¡°All I do is sit. It¡¯s better for me to stand these days. Make yourselves comfortable, I¡¯m sure the walk here was arduous.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me,¡± Rose groaned. ¡°I begged mum to let us stay here tonight but she said we aren¡¯t allowed to.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the rules,¡± she chided. ¡°Technically, we shouldn¡¯t even be visiting him, but what Sage doesn¡¯t know won¡¯t kill him, though I¡¯m sure it wouldn¡¯t take much to do so these days.¡±

    ¡°Mother!¡± Rose whispered with a bickering tone.

    ¡°Hush, dear. It¡¯s rude to come visit someone and spend the time fighting. We can do that back home,¡± she held up the blanket and unfurled it, showing that it was more than big enough for my bed. ¡°This was an old blanket I had back home, and I thought it might suit your needs better than ours.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just take it, please,¡± she said, pleading. ¡°We¡¯ve adequate amounts already. Just take it. We¡¯d like to help in some way.¡±

    ¡°Mother¡­¡± Rose frowned, then looked at the drink she held. ¡°Oh! Right, here Mint. We brought you something warm to drink since it¡¯s been so cold.¡±

    Smiling, I took it with as little eye contact as possible, because fleeting felt like eternity. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, taking a sip. It was hot, and I remember my mouth burning more than tasting anything, but I kept it down and refrained from drinking for a while.

    She laughed, ¡°Sorry, it must still be scorching hot! I should have warned you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I said, spitting invisible flames. ¡°It¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± they both said together.

    They asked me about what happened on the island, as Conifer had. This time was easier in some ways, harder in others. I already had run through the story with Conifer so it was easier to remember what happened and when, and I had been sitting alone for so long that embellishment came easier; I had already thought of certain things that had happened differently, more details regarding my gallantry. In this version particularly, I distinctly recall not mentioning my injuries, though I had plenty even outside the ones I made on my hands.

    More difficult, however, was the audience. Strange how even just an additional face can put the pressure on that much more. I think it was Rose, but it could have been because her mother was there more than her own presence. Lying to her mother was a lot like lying to my own, only with less physical consequences and more cerebral ones, most likely self inflicted. As hard as it was, I tried to focus more on Rose¡¯s reaction, who was able to suspend her disbelief more, though whether it was done naively or on purpose I couldn¡¯t say. Regardless, I was more relieved when I was finished, and felt I had lingered too long during some parts.

    Parsley gave me a wry look and said, ¡°Well, what an interesting trip you had,¡± with emphasis on the word trip. We locked eyes for a moment, and had a lightning paced inner conversation about the how and why you shouldn¡¯t lie. Meanwhile, Rose was looking at me dreamily with those some-colored eyes¡ªblue sounds right. ¡°You¡¯re amazing, Mint! I can¡¯t believe you lived through all of that. And you say Chrys, that lion thing out there, he can talk? I want to talk with him!¡±

    Ignoring her mother, I said, ¡°Sorry, as far as I know he can¡¯t speak to those who are without Vastmire.¡±

    Parsley made an ugly sound and muttered something like, ¡°How convenient.¡± Rose just pouted, looking genuinely sad that she couldn¡¯t speak to Chrys. Feeling my believability was at stake, I said, ¡°How about we try anyway? He can still understand you, you just can¡¯t understand him. I¡¯ll tell him to do two responses for yes and no questions if you¡¯d like.¡±

    Her mother was about to object when Rose jumped out of the bed and just about ran to the door saying, ¡°Oh mum, won¡¯t this be interesting! Let¡¯s go, come on! I¡¯ve so much to ask.¡±

    With Parsley glowering at me, I went out in front of them and motioned Chrys to come closer to us. He was awake for once, and seemed to already be aware of the situation.

    ¡°What should yes and no be?¡± he asked. ¡°Should I just shake my head no and nod for yes or should it be more like¡­¡± He roared a ferocious yet playful roar, making both women with me squeal in fright.

    ¡°I think the nodding and shaking would be fine,¡± I chuckled. ¡°Just make sure it¡¯s obvious which you¡¯re doing and this should go smoothly. Take it away, Rose.¡±

    She pushed ahead of me eagerly, despite feeling scared a moment before. It was strange, but in a cute sort of way, like she was suddenly much younger than she already was. Parsley remained behind me, arms folded, eyes taking in all the information she could.

    ¡°Can I smell your flowers?¡± Rose just about yelled.

    Chrys winced, but nodded. I called to her, ¡°You don¡¯t have to yell, he can hear you at a regular indoor volume.¡±

    ¡°Oh, okay!¡± she said, putting her face into the flowers of his mane. She let out a gasp of surprise, ¡°They¡¯re real?¡±

    ¡°Yep, he has actual flowers growing on him like I said.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s so neat!¡± she went back to sniffing them, and I felt the presence of Parsley grow stronger behind me, more ominous. I glanced back; she looked normal, pleased if not vacant. Maybe I was just being paranoid?

    ¡°Okay, enough of that,¡± Chrys grumbled.

    ¡°He wants you to stop.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry! Your flowers just smell very nice.¡± She pulled away and placed a thoughtful finger on her chin, rocking back and forth hypnotically. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re a lion and you have flowers growing from you, does that make you some kind of weird plant monster?¡±

    Snorting, Chrys shook his head.

    ¡°Well, most monsters wouldn¡¯t admit to it,¡± Rose said, grinning. Chrys shook his head some more.

    ¡°She¡¯s got you there, bud. Just drop it and answer her next question.¡±

    Rose laughed and asked, ¡°Are you really friends with Mint?¡±

    Hesitating, Chrys nodded. But Rose noticed the hesitation and started digging at that for a while.

    ¡°Ohhh, look at that! He hesitated, he must not really like you Mint!¡± she went on like that for a while until she became bored, and if I¡¯m honest I don¡¯t remember much of what she asked. In general they were silly, fun questions that wasted time but were harmless.

    While she was asking them, though, Parsley did get in close to me and struck up a conversation that I do remember.

    ¡°My girl likes you, you know.¡±

    My neck prickled and I started laughing awkwardly. ¡°Wasting no time, huh?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t, because you need to know I disapprove of it.¡±

    ¡°What, you don¡¯t like me?¡±

    She sighed, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. ¡°It¡¯s not that, Mint. On the contrary, you¡¯re a fine young man. You could be a great person when you¡¯re older. But¡­ well, I don¡¯t know. You¡¯re just not fit for her.¡± She sighed again, heavier. ¡°You¡¯ll just hurt her.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think that?¡± I asked, genuinely curious. She¡¯d never really been this up front with me before. Most people hadn¡¯t, in fact. It was refreshing. I know I told her so at some point.

    Biting her lip, she said, ¡°Well, you¡¯re going on a pretty grand adventure after this. Assuming you get out of this. You¡¯re too important a person; you¡¯ll be constantly on the run, like Sage. And in constant danger like him, too. Rose probably thinks that she¡¯s ready for all that, but I¡¯ve known her my whole life. I know better.¡±

    Smiling sadly, I nodded and stared down at my feet, feeling more comfortable looking at nothing in particular. ¡°You sure know how to make a guy feel great, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry Mint dear. I really am.¡± She looked sad, tears appearing in her eyes.

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t cry. You don¡¯t want Rose to worry over nothing.¡± I put on as nice a smile as I could and held her shoulders so that we were looking at each other. I didn¡¯t last long, and glanced down frequently to hide. ¡°I¡¯ll stay away from her, I promise you that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Mint.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be, it¡¯s okay.¡± I shouldn¡¯t even be with your daughter anyway, I remember thinking. She¡¯s a commoner, I¡¯m a prince. She¡¯s from some far off land, I¡¯m from one of the largest kingdoms, largest capitals in all the known world. It just wouldn¡¯t work. ¡°My mother wouldn¡¯t approve of us either, if it makes you feel better.¡±

    ¡°It does,¡± she smiled, sniffing. ¡°Thank you, dear. And I really am sorry.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be. At least you¡¯re an honest woman. There¡¯s few honest people in this world.¡±

    ¡°How true that is. Do grow up to be an honest man, like Sage.¡±

    Those last words felt strange. It could have been my paranoia, or it could have been she was aware of my lies. Who knows. Parsley, for all the things she wasn¡¯t, she was certainly perceptive and strikingly intelligent.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± I said. ¡°Sage is a lot to live up to.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± she said, and I think after this we chatted a little but of nothing too concerning. Probably just more talk of the coming battle, and she probably asked some things about Chrys. I was more in my head at this point. What she said about Rose wasn¡¯t something that bothered me right away, but it stuck with me, a knife constantly in the back of my head. I still think about it now from time to time.

    Time doesn¡¯t bandage every wound that comes its way.

    Soon enough, Rose grew bored and tired, and knowing she had to leave she decided to finish her questionnaire and head back home, which Chrys seemed relieved about; he could only handle so much attention.

    ¡°He¡¯s a delight!¡± Rose squealed, looking much better than she had before. Happiness is the best make up, or so they say.

    ¡°Well I¡¯m glad you enjoyed it, I think he¡¯s a little tired of it all,¡± I said, laughing.

    ¡°Oh he¡¯ll get over it,¡± she said, laughing with me. Parsley just looked at the both of us, her expression unreadable but uncomfortable.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he will,¡± I said. ¡°Thank you both for visiting me, I really do appreciate it. It¡¯s been lonely over here.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it, dear,¡± Parsley said. ¡°I hope you enjoy the blanket.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± I said, and they were off, Rose sauntering down the hall with Parsley titterring after her.

    Before I went back to my room, Chrys came over to me and said, ¡°Tiresome girl, isn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but nice.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes. She seems to think rude can be nice,¡± he grumbled, shaking his flowers out.

    ¡°I suppose so, yeah. You¡¯re probably just not used to that sort of attention though, considering you seldom dealt with people back on Clementine.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s part of it. Her questions were just too much.¡±

    Grinning, I asked, ¡°Was it so hard to admit we¡¯re friends?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not friends, we¡¯re companions,¡± he said, stiffly.

    ¡°Right. Well, I¡¯ll let you relax. You¡¯re all conversationed out at this point, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    And with that I laid down, my head spinning faster and faster before settling back to its regular speed.

    ? ???? ? ???? ?

    Lastly, I met with Basil just a few more times. Well probably more than a few as he was my food delivery servant for perhaps a week or so, but this instance was the most important of the encounters that happened.

    He came to the room with a full plate of food right when I woke up. He had a hot soup for me as he had brought before, but he also brought an extra amount of pastries and snacks to eat by about double, and an additional cup of water. When I asked why, he answered, ¡°Today Sage would like to make sure that he is in top shape, and has asked that I be his sparring partner. That means I will probably be busy later when I normally bring dinner, so I decided I¡¯d bring some more food along this time for you so you don¡¯t starve.¡±

    It made sense to me, but hearing him say he¡¯d be training got me angry. Not necessarily at him, just in general. You know how sometimes you have no motivation for something, but hearing that someone else is going to do it gets your blood pumping and you really hate that you''re not participating? That¡¯s how I felt then, knowing I wasn¡¯t allowed to fight and everyone else was preparing.

    ¡°You should probably be training too,¡± he added, like a father reminding you of a chore you¡¯ve long neglected.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡± I asked, haughty. ¡°If I¡¯m not going to get to fight in any real battles, I should probably continue with my studies in history, politics, arithmetic, language¡ªyou know, what I was stolen from?¡±

    Basil had been just about to leave, and the door was ajar in his hand when he decided instead to shut it and sit down next to me on the bed. His close, casual proximity had been something of a comfort to me before, but since I returned from my month away he had been more stressed, more serious than he had been before, and his simple act of sitting near me instantly filled me with regret for my comment.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I apologized preemptively. ¡°I¡¯m just stressed out. It¡¯s hard being locked in here.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re allowed to wander if you choose,¡± Basil said. ¡°The civilian district is fine for you especially, since that¡¯s where many others in your situation are.¡±

    I laughed sadly then, and was surprised to feel a tear trickle down my cheek.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong,¡± he asked, suddenly more concerned than he had been.¡±

    ¡°Nothing, it¡¯s just¡­ Six months ago if you had compared me to a commoner I might have been angry at you. Now I¡¯m just mad at myself.¡±

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t be,¡± he said, a small smile on his face. ¡°It¡¯s not so much that we don¡¯t want you to fight or be useful to us because you will never be good, Mint. It¡¯s just not the right time. You need more control before you can be a real asset. We left you alone on that island thinking that the seal on you might break and you¡¯d be able to actually use Vastmire as casually as most users do, but we underestimated how much you¡¯d have to unlearn about your body and the strength of the seal placed on you was. It¡¯s going to take a lot longer for you to get good at using Vastmire like we do, and we can¡¯t have you breaking limbs left and right in a short skirmish or two. It would just ruin your body for life instead of saving it.¡±

    I nodded, sniffling. Why was I crying? ¡°I get it. I understand the mindset. Doesn¡¯t really make it any less frustrating, though. Why would mother seal me like that? Weaken me on purpose?¡±

    Basil shook his head. ¡°We won¡¯t know unless she tells us, I think. No one in history has ever been sealed like that from birth, nor have they had Vastmire withheld from them to the point they were unaware of it being so important to war in Tamarind.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? Is it not exclusive to Avocado then?¡±

    Sighing, Basil looked around a moment and said, ¡°I really should get going.¡±

    ¡°Can you at least answer me first?¡±

    He grimaced. ¡°Vastmire is supposed to be something we¡¯ve withheld from every other country, yes. But you must understand it¡¯s impossible to keep track of every single person. People have travelled, they¡¯ve moved away, they¡¯ve snuck into our country or out. There is a small, but problematic amount of Vastmiric people across the Tamarind. People like Bitter and the other flavor knights are examples.¡±

    I rubbed my chin, nodding. ¡°It makes sense, I suppose. The man I met on Clementine had some kind of power. Influence, I think Chrys called it.¡±

    Basil got up to go, and before he said goodbye he added, ¡°By the way. Don¡¯t tell too many people about what happened on Clementine.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    He made a thoughtful noise before saying, ¡°The man you say you fought and killed¡ªwe got rid of him years ago, well before you were born. His name was Dil the Vagrant, or Dillinger. Some bandit from Pomegranate trying to make a name for himself, but Sage put him down. It¡¯s written in recent historical texts. If someone who was aware of those heard your story it might come across as¡­¡±

    ¡°Bad?¡± I tried to finish for him.

    ¡°In a word. They could come to a number of conclusions, and none are good. They might even think you¡¯re delusional, young Mint.¡±

    I frowned at that. ¡°You don¡¯t believe me, do you?¡±

    Basil gave me an almost mournful look, his eyes both exhausted and very sad. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time I¡¯ve heard someone lived after they were thought dead.¡± He bit his lip, turned away. ¡°It would be the first time they lived through a hit from Sage, though. I saw him die. Dil was an unrecognizable mound of pulp. Nothing in this world could survive that.¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t believe me?¡± I asked again.

    ¡°You¡¯re food is getting cold,¡± he said, and left.

    After he left, I remember asking Chrys about it to see if any of it blared a horn with him, but he was as confused as I was. It was frustrating, not only that I was thought to be crazy or delusional but that what I experienced was so different from the reality I was presented.

    I remember Chrys also saying, ¡°It might be best not to reveal I can speak, Mint. It seems that enough people can¡¯t understand me that it would make you look much worse than you already look.¡±

    Which made sense, and I agreed to it without issue.

    That wraps up the majority of my meetings and moments of fleeting socialization during this time. I¡¯m not sure how much time passed, and as I said before I¡¯m unsure of the order in which these events occurred. I just know that the next part happened last.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine

    Deep in a dreamy haze, I was thrust from what had to have been a pleasant dream. If not, it was simply joyous sleep, for I remember how hard my heart pounded when I was torn from that place of pleasure and peace and sent sprawling on the floor, pain radiating from first my neck, into my back, and soon into my everything. My eyes were burning from waking up at the wrong time, and I went to rub them when a kick sent me flying into the wall. Luckily at this point I was in so much pain that I couldn¡¯t possibly process it all at once, so I shook my head and got up, running into things and desperately trying to see who my attacker was.

    He was tall, not ridiculously so but enough to tower above me. He was in an entirely green cloak with a hood that draped and covered his face. A large sword was on his back, and the fact that it was sheathed was almost more intimidating than if he¡¯d had it out.

    ¡°Who are you? How¡¯d you get passed everyone?¡± I asked, groggy and shaken. I wanted to open the door and figure out where Chrys was. If this guy had gotten in, then he might have hurt Chrys to do it.

    But he didn¡¯t answer, as attackers are wont to silence. So, blinking a lot to reduce the irritation in my eyes, I attempted to figure out a way to subdue him.

    The guy hit hard, that much was for certain. I was hit in my sleep so I didn¡¯t brace myself, but even then I shouldn¡¯t have been sent into the state I was in, a kind of painful numbness that was there and wasn¡¯t. So I knew if I got hit again I¡¯d probably be at worst dead, and at best receive permanent damage for my trouble. I¡¯d have to bait him into an attack and counter it without getting hit. Hitting him before he hit me would leave me open, and I had a feeling I wouldn¡¯t be fast enough to take care of him before he could bust me open like a coconut.

    Slowly and unconsciously, I began circling slowly to the left, him mirroring me and circling around, always facing each other, always equal distance apart. The bed kept us apart, but I knew he¡¯d be able to get around that fast.

    When neither of us made any moves, I decided to keep talking, unsure of how else to progress the situation. ¡°I assume you¡¯re some assassin from Cashew? Or maybe Avocado? My understanding is I¡¯ve no real allies in either place these days.¡±

    He didn¡¯t respond at all, choosing instead to continue our dance in silence.

    ¡°You not talking isn¡¯t doing much for first impressions,¡± I said, grinning. ¡°Was I not supposed to wake up? Maybe you¡¯re unsure of how to finish this? Here, let me help you.¡± I put my arms down at my side and stood straight, unguarded. Slapping my chest, I said, ¡°Come on, this next one¡¯s free.¡±

    To my surprise, he didn¡¯t take the bait, instead just stopping and mimicking my stance. I frowned, and went to rub my eyes.

    That was the moment he leaped forward, flying over the bed and in my face before my finger even touched my eyelid.

    I smiled slightly, trying to stay collected while I quickly scanned him to see what he¡¯d use to attack. His right leg was getting ready to swing, and it was an attack I¡¯d blocked countless times in training with Sage. I swayed my body to the side and went to grab him around his thigh, so I could twist and swing him up over my shoulder and slam him into the ground, which would most likely stun him long enough that I could either run away or go in for a couple free hits.

    Instead, I was greeted with a left straight to my shoulder, again sending me sprawling and driving a stake into every single part of my body that could process pain before quickly going numb. My eyes shut, and an eternity passed in an instant before my head forced myself to remain conscious and fight. But when I tried to get up I couldn¡¯t move.

    Paralyzed from two hits? And one was in my shoulder?

    This guy was some kind of fist wizard.

    ¡°Well?¡± I coughed out. ¡°You going to kill me? What¡¯s my sentence, Mr. Hatchet-man?¡±

    He stood over me, his face still obscured by what I realized then was a mask inside his cowl. Pulling the cloth up, he shook his long hair out and sighed, disappointed.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t ready, Mint,¡± Sage said.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you,¡± Mint groaned. ¡°What are you doing here fighting me like this? I thought I wasn¡¯t supposed to fight?¡±

    Grimacing, Sage said, ¡°I had a feeling.¡±

    ¡°A feeling about what?¡±

    ¡°A feeling that you would disobey and fight anway, so I figured you might as well be ready. But I see now that you are far from ready. Those hits I gave you were nothing compared to what you¡¯d face out there on the battlefield.¡±

    Breathing through my teeth, I said, ¡°I doubt that. I don¡¯t claim to have been in as many fights as you, but no one has hurt me like that before. What did you do? I swear you hit me in my shoulder but my entire body is numb.¡±

    Ignoring the last part, he frowned and said, ¡°Just take my word for it then. If that is the strongest attack you¡¯ve experienced, then consider yourself lucky.¡±

    I could tell he was serious. In the last week or so it looked like he had received a few extra lines on his face, and his green hair was streaked with flecks and strands of grey, which though they would have made him look nice on any other day, instead only solidified his own physical anemia.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, quietly. I rubbed my shoulders, slapped myself, and still couldn¡¯t feel a thing save for the presence of my body, so I asked him again what he did.

    ¡°When we trained before,¡± he began, his eyes slanting in something resembling amusement, ¡°I never once used an inkling of my Vastmire.¡±

    My eyes widened. ¡°So that¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Vastmire does that to my enemies. When I hit you, it not only is with enhanced strength, but the energy I send radiates into your body, removing your ability to feel.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ sort of underwhelming,¡± I said, not quite sure how to say what I was thinking.

    Sage smiled though. ¡°You see then? My power is a double edged sword.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± I asked.

    His smile lessened. For some reason, he thought I had been able to figure it out on my own. Even this far into knowing me, Sage had held some hope for my ability to think fast.

    ¡°It¡¯s probably a good thing you aren¡¯t pursuing a scholarly life these days,¡± he joked.

    I glared at him, but he just chuckled and continued. ¡°My power takes away your ability to feel. So how about we exercise it now and see what you can do? Right now you are numb, correct?¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Then try and hit me as hard as you can.¡±

    Sage simply asking this of me was all I needed to fit the pieces together. ¡°I get it. Because I can¡¯t feel, I can¡¯t regulate how fast or strong my movement is, and my dodging is going to be off.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct,¡± he agreed. ¡°But there¡¯s more to it than that. Just see what happens when you hit me.¡±

    So I took a second to make sure I had a proper fist, packing my fingers together and being sure that they would stay together. Then I focused all of my mental energy on putting power behind my fist, all of it that I could muster. When I was finally prepared, I launched a punch into Sage¡¯s chest.

    And to my surprise, I knocked him to the ground.

    Sage grunted in pain, groaning and feeling his chest as if he¡¯d been hit by a weapon. I looked down at my hand, confused to see my knuckles were turning dark red.

    ¡°What happened?¡± I asked.

    Finally standing up, he cocked an eyebrow at me and asked, ¡°When did you get so strong? My back is completely messed up now.¡± He bent himself backward, getting a loud crack out of his spine that made me wince. ¡°Ugh, alright. Anyway, that was perfect Mint. You showed exactly what the issue with my power is. Because you can¡¯t regulate yourself properly, it could go one of two ways for my opponent. Either they hit me too weakly, too slowly, and they get demolished by me. Or¡ª¡± he grabbed my hand gently and directed my gaze to my knuckles, which he didn¡¯t really have to do. I was already staring at them. ¡°¡ªYou end up overcompensating. If you were more seasoned, or hit me with a sword or club or something, I¡¯d probably be dead. Numbness being my strength means I need to end things quickly.¡±

    Wincing down at my knuckles I asked, ¡°When will I be able to feel again?¡±

    Sage shrugged, ¡°Could take a while. If you sleep you¡¯ll probably wake up with a decent amount of your feeling back, but you will probably be feeling the effects for a day, at least where I hit you.¡±

    He turned, his cloak swooping theatrically. ¡°I should get back to my quarters, though. Don¡¯t leave this room.¡±

    Normally I¡¯d probably have just nodded, but being tired opens gates that you didn¡¯t know were there. I ran in front of him and held my hands out to block the door and I said, ¡°I¡¯m going to fight.¡±

    Knitting his brow, he stressed, ¡°No, you will not. You will be safe here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s stupid to put me alone here. Just because I¡¯m out of sight doesn¡¯t make me safe!¡± I looked in his eyes, pleading. I might have cried. Maybe. ¡°I¡¯m going crazy in here. This place is a prison. Didn¡¯t you say I should fight to get out of prison?¡±

    Sighing, he said, ¡°I did say something like that.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Well if everything goes wrong while you guys are fighting, and they send someone plowing through here, killing people left and right before they get to me, it won¡¯t exactly be easy for me to escape! Don¡¯t you get that? This is just setting me up to get captured!¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re being paranoid,¡± he said. ¡°Let me through, before I hurt you.¡±

    Which wasn¡¯t a threat, it was just him letting me know what I already knew.

    ¡°Just please give me a chance. I want to help out! Couldn¡¯t I just stay close to you? I need to get experienced with this kind of¡ª¡±

    He sent me sprawling, and the pain of rejection was far worse than whatever I might have felt were I not numb.

    Without looking my way, he assured me, ¡°No one will come down here. I¡¯ve made sure that the battle will remain above ground. Just deal with this for a few more days, maybe a week. The battle will begin soon enough. The ships were seen very close, and they will be coming to shore perhaps tomorrow. But you¡¯ve just got to sit tight, Mint. Things will be fine, just leave it to us. We¡¯ll protect you.¡±

    Gritting my teeth, I said, ¡°But I am their target. I am the Prince of Avocado, and this is my fight as much as yours.¡±

    Sage turned to me, and with eyes cold as ice, he said, ¡°You may have been a prince before, but now you need to really think about what that means, what that meant. What you should be tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, pleading.

    ¡°I mean that as of right now, Sumac is the rightful heir to the Avocado throne. You are just a blubbering fool claiming to be someone you¡¯re not.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not true? A king must see from the eyes of the people, Mint. As a prince you should know that. But you are not a prince, you are just a boy, caught up in a world that will eat you alive if I don¡¯t show you the way.¡± He walked over to me and knelt down, and he gave me a full hug. Not a small, one armed deal. He embraced me, and I felt my hair dampen as he shed silent tears. His voice never wavered when he said, ¡°Trust me when I say I know how you feel. But also trust me when I say that I will keep you safe even if this isn''t the most ideal way of life. None of this is easy, even for me. If I could make all of this go away, and take you back to your room in Persea, and make it so we never met, I¡¯d do it. You¡¯d be better off that way.¡±

    I know he was trying to make me feel better. In fact, when he said that, I cried harder, knowing that I would have felt better back in my room, studying history and grumbling about the noise people down below made, seeing people only as tools and disruptions. Loving only my mother, knowing nothing about anything. Life was simpler then.

    Writing this out now, though, I¡¯m heavily aware that this would have been a terrible idea. Sure, being stuck in that room was awful, and all the things up until then were terrible. Fighting wasn¡¯t something I wanted, it was something I had to do. Learning it was just another piece of homework for me. But the people I met were too precious, the lessons I learned too valuable, to just throw it all away. Conifer, Basil, and Sage were all vastly more important to me than my father ever was, ever would have been.

    When he finally broke away from me, and stared down at me, in a moment of weakness, he said, ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll take you outside.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I asked, stunned.

    ¡°Quickly, before I change my mind.¡±

    And with that, I was following him down unfamiliar halls. He pulled his face mask down and padded silently along the empty corridors, no words crossing between us. I wasn¡¯t sure what exactly we were going to see, but even the stale air the rest of the haven was breathing was fresh to me.

    After a dizzying amount of time spent in that silence, we made our way to a stairway. Sage looked left then right, saw no one was around, then motioned for me to follow closely. Up the stairs we went, and through a trapdoor which lead outside.

    The first thing that hit me was the air. Fresh air for the first time in probably a week was incredible; I honestly can¡¯t imagine what it¡¯s like to be locked away from nature for longer. My mood was improved the second the air touched me. It was a breezy night, autumn air bringing with it the gentle touch that would soon be winter.

    ¡°This way,¡± he whispered, and he lead me away from the walls, towards the beach. He weaved us along a path that seemed insane, but I figured he knew where each guard would be and just dodged them. I never saw a soul on our walk.

    When we got to the beach, he sighed, obviously relieved no one saw us. Seeing that, I realized it was okay to speak and asked, ¡°So what are we doing here?¡±

    Nodding to himself as if agreeing to a statement I couldn¡¯t hear, he asked, ¡°Do you truly want to help out? To fight in battles like I do?¡±

    The question felt circular. This was all we had been talking about, and he knew my answer. But I gave it anyway. ¡°Yes, I want nothing more than to fight.¡±

    He walked over to me and said, ¡°Give me your hands.¡±

    I held them out, and he took my hands in his. ¡°Good, now close your eyes until I say to open them.¡±

    I did, and in that moment I experienced a sensation I¡¯d only feel a few more times in my life. At this time, I wasn¡¯t sure what was happening. It felt as if my thoughts were jumping, like I couldn¡¯t focus on any one thing. I thought of my mother, of studying, of Sage, of Basil, of Conifer, his family, his pain, of Rose and her mother, of her feelings towards me and her mother''s feelings towards that, of Chrys and his plight, of Dil, of Neres and the harpies, of my fight with Dil, of my fight with Bitter, and even my spar with Sumac from before my journey began. My memories were sifted through, consumed, deliberated upon.

    Sage opened his eyes, and I opened mine simultaneously.

    ¡°I¡¯m unsure if I should let you have this,¡± he muttered, releasing my hands.

    I frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Biting his lip, he shrugged. ¡°I suppose I can show you. We¡¯ve not a lot of time for this. Watch carefully, alright?¡±

    I nodded, and he walked to the edge of the beach, just a step away from where the waves would stop. Sage stood completely still, the only movement happening in his cloak, which billowed vigorously in the wind. He moved his hands in wide, slow circles, bringing them down and below his waist in time with his breath. It was almost meditative, the way he moved so fluidly yet so slowly, deliberately.

    Then, his hands began to glow.

    My eyes widened in awe as I saw something like a glowing ball of slime appear, floating strangely between his hands. It bulged and convulsed with viscous movement, entrancing me.

    Sage spoke with difficulty as he tried to hold it in his hands, ¡°This is the Vastmire I carry inside of me. It¡¯s the concentrated power of every single Moss Knight that ever came before me, and I am to give it to the next in line. It¡¯s strength could destroy an entire army, and is the sole reason for my lifelong imprisonment.¡±

    He slowly pressed it back inside of him, wincing as he did so. ¡°The act of receiving this gift is not for the faint of heart. It could easily kill you, and the influence of its power is incredible on the mind. Even if you didn¡¯t die, you might murder without a second thought and become a horrible nightmare for those you seek to protect.¡±

    I took this all in, unsure. ¡°Why are you explaining all of this to me?¡±

    With hard eyes, he said, ¡°Because I¡¯ve been considering you for my successor.¡±

    For once, I didn¡¯t say anything. I just stood there, processing it. It¡¯s not like the statement made no sense. Obviously, upon reflection even at that time, I could see that he¡¯d been planning it the whole time. To anyone reading, it appears obvious. To me at the time though? I didn¡¯t want to believe something like that, so until it was said to me at that moment, it was an inconceivable notion, a foolish statement with no weight behind it.

    Sage didn¡¯t look like he was joking, though. He was serious.

    ¡°I know it isn¡¯t what you want,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s not something I want for you either, if I¡¯m honest. You¡¯re not naturally inclined for something like this.¡±

    ¡°You mean I¡¯m not fit to fight?¡± I confirmed, quiet venom in my voice.

    ¡°I mean you shouldn¡¯t have to,¡± he said. ¡°None of this should have happened.¡± His face looked like a statue, capturing an enormous amount of emotions that passed for him. Regret was on his mind, something I¡¯d learn a lot about in the future but knew little of at the time.

    ¡°Anyway, I need to show you what I will give you.¡±

    I grimaced, now more annoyed I¡¯d been taken from underground. Sure he was treating me more like an adult, which is what I said I wanted, but what I meant was I wanted my freedom. This lecture was too heavy, and the scenery was too nice for me to pay attention to this. Especially when he was trying to sway my decision making with this Moss Knight stuff.

    Sage read my face and he smiled. ¡°I know it feels like I¡¯ve already shown you, but just watch. You need to see the practicality of it.¡±

    Rolling my eyes, I nodded. ¡°Okay.¡±

    Sage dropped into a fighting stance and took a deep breath as he had before, but this time was different. Instead of removing that strange, slimy blob of gelatinous power from his stomach, he began glowing. Not like the sun, or like a diamond. More like the low glow of a dim candle at night, except with greener hues. He locked his fist next to his chest as if it were a drawn bow, and the glow grew more and more intense, until it was like being too close to an all encompassing flame, too hot to be comfortable near and too bright to look at for long.

    Then he shot his fist out, releasing the arrow into the open air, aimless and destructive. And from his fist flew out a blob of energy, green and wavy like a ball of water. It was only about as big as Sage¡¯s forearm maybe, but the amount of power behind it seemed ridiculous. I could see the sea bend even before it went over the water, and once it got out into the open water the sea looked like it was moving out of the way, the green ball a guest of honor at this party of power.

    Sage stared out at it with satisfaction, slightly out of breath. ¡°In my younger years, that thing would only stop once it hit its target. Now it will fizzle out in just a few iles, perhaps a bit more.¡±

    Still watching it go, I asked a question whose answer I knew. ¡°What happens when it hits something?¡±

    In his infinite wisdom, Sage just waved a hand and said, ¡°Boom.¡±

    ¡°Boom?¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Whatever that shot touches will have so much Vastmire in it that it will burn from the inside out and die in less than an instant. That is the power you gain from taking on the power the Moss Knight¡¯s have cultivated.¡±

    My eyes never left that light, now just a small blink above the sea, a viridian star in the distance.

    ¡°I sincerely hope that if I give you this, you will use it well.¡±

    I nodded, absently. In my head I was thinking with something like that I could just go back to Avocado right now, drive Cashew out and return everything back to normal.

    ¡°If you¡¯ve got all that power, Sage, why do you even need to fight a war like this? Couldn¡¯t you  just decimate the army on your own and finish things fast?¡±

    Sage frowned, looking so ancient he scared me. A vision of my future I wasn¡¯t ready to see.

    ¡°This is why I never gave out the mantle before,¡± his gruff voice felt like knives in my ears. ¡°I just told you that this strength of mine will burn the victim from the inside out. I don¡¯t go doing that to armies just because they disagree with me. I try my best to make sure there are as few casualties on my side as there are on the enemy¡¯s side.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s the point in the power if you can¡¯t even use it?¡± I asked him, honestly confused.

    ¡°Sometimes the threat is all you need, boy. The scariest thing in your life is the pain that never happened, remember that.¡±

    If Sage were here, I¡¯d say I did.

    After that, he took me back to my room underground, keeping me hidden and distracted with talk of the battle. By the time we were back to my room, I realized I couldn¡¯t remember how we got there and cursed myself for not paying any attention. It seemed to me I¡¯d be stuck in my room again for the foreseeable future.

    A few minutes after Sage left, my door opened and I jumped from my bed, surprised. Even more surprised to see that it was Conifer at the door, looking none too pleased.

    ¡°Your beast needs to be kept on a leash,¡± Conifer huffed, then stomped over to my bed and made a show of looking away from Chrys.

    ¡°That man was trying to sneak in here,¡± Chrys called from the end of the hall coldly. ¡°I was only kiting him away from here. Then that man called Sage came and we hid away for a time.¡±

    ¡°Then Sage came,¡± Conifer said, confusing me for a second before I remembered he couldn¡¯t understand Chrys. ¡°And we had to stay hidden until you returned.¡±

    Still not sure what was happening, I asked, ¡°Okay, so why are you both here then? Did you just want to visit me, Conifer?¡±

    The question brought a smile on Conifer¡¯s face. ¡°Actually, I came to ask a question of you.¡± Reaching into his ragged shirt, he pulled out a dagger in a sheath made from what looked like one of the trees that grew there on the island. ¡°Would you like to escape with me?¡±

 Chapter Thirty

    I fiddled with the dagger he had handed me, removing it and resheathing it repeatedly, a rhythmic ¡°kuh-CHUK¡± noise that relieved the nervous tension building in me.

    ¡°So you want to ditch everyone?¡± I asked bluntly. We stood in the hall now, as I wanted to be closer to Chrys.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t mean that!¡± Conifer stammered. ¡°Let me start over.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s got two minutes,¡± Chrys growled, prowling forward next to me like he was my pet. It made me smirk; the idea that Chrys was already such a valuable ally was comforting.

    I repeated what Chrys said, adding, ¡°I can¡¯t stop him from hurting you if you say something stupid.¡±

    Lowering his voice, Conifer asked me, ¡°I thought we were friends?¡± His eyes were pleading, and I found myself wincing.

    ¡°We are,¡± I sighed. ¡°But you know who I am now. I can¡¯t just go running away from this fight. There¡¯s nowhere I can hide. I¡¯m hundreds of iles away from home already and my enemies are already coming here to rip everything apart until they can find me and toss me on some boat. It¡¯s not so easy.¡±

    Biting his lip, Conifer nodded. ¡°I understand. But you must feel the same way I do¡ªthis place is a prison! We won¡¯t last down here. Better to be above ground where we can at least run around.¡±

    Frowning, I stopped fiddling with the dagger for a moment, emphasizing the last ¡°ka-CHUK¡± with extra strength. ¡°What do you think Chrys?¡±

    ¡°Oh come off it with that, Mint!¡± Conifer cried, frustration on his face. ¡°That beast doesn¡¯t know what you¡¯re saying!¡±

    ¡°Can I mangle him now, Mint?¡± Chrys asked, clawing the ground idly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t pay him any mind, Chrys,¡± I laughed. ¡°Just give me your input on the situation. You¡¯re a lot smarter than either of us.¡± Conifer was about to interrupt and I held up a palm, shaking my head. ¡°Just let it go. If you complain again he might actually kill you, and trust me I¡¯d rather him not do that. You don¡¯t deserve something like that.¡±

    It looked like he was about to speak anyway, but Chrys growled and Conifer shut up, breathing heavily.

    ¡°Sage is a strong man,¡± Chrys declared. ¡°He¡¯s not someone I¡¯d want to fight with. That said,¡± he stretched, revealing his long claws as he did, ¡°I think we could all use a little fresh air and sunshine. Besides, I came to help out the army not guard you from visitors.¡±

    Unsheathing the dagger, I nodded and looked the blade over in its entirety. ¡°Where did you get this, Conifer? It looks pretty nice.¡±

    ¡°It was on a rack where the soldiers keep all their stuff. I figured no one would miss two daggers.¡±

    ¡°Two?¡±

    He pulled another free from his shirt. It was even more plain looking than mine, and the blade had a few noticeable knicks and chips from poor use. ¡°I figured I¡¯d need something more sturdy than my instrument to fend off any unwanted guests.¡±

    ¡°You know, he¡¯s stupid but this guy¡¯s got some balls on him,¡± Chrys said, turning away and walking away. ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting over here. Come get me when you¡¯re ready.¡±

    Before I could stop him, he was already gone.

    ¡°Well, what did the big cat say?¡± Conifer teased, his tone annoyed.

    ¡°He wants to go outside,¡± I said. ¡°But he doesn¡¯t want to hide. He wants to fight. That¡¯s the whole reason he came with me to begin with, so I can¡¯t really blame him..¡±

    Sitting up, he had a gleam in his eyes when he asked me, ¡°What about you though? You willing to come with me and get out of here? I won¡¯t force you to go if you don¡¯t want to.¡±

    I could see he was trying to manipulate me into going, but it didn¡¯t feel right; he wasn¡¯t acting like the Conifer I was used to. And I remembered how things were tense when Rose and her mother had come by. ¡°Are Parsley and Rose in on this?¡±

    Conifer¡¯s face turned red in seconds. ¡°Those two would rather wait it out. They dislike conflict, you know.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± I said. ¡°Rose looked at me differently after what happened with Bitter before. It felt like she saw me as less of a boy and more of a monster.¡±

    ¡°Women are like that,¡± Conifer snapped. ¡°Those two want to return to the mainland soon, to go searching for a quiet place to live. I told them good luck with that.¡±  He was obviously angry with them about something, but since he didn¡¯t outright say what it was I didn¡¯t bother pressing.

    We started walking, meeting Chrys at the end of the hall. He shook out his mane and I looked around, wanting to be sure no one was around to see us. Once we were clear, I asked, ¡°Okay, so I¡¯m assuming one of you two knows a way out? I don¡¯t know how to even make my way down to the dining hall or the soldiers quarters or anything at all.¡±

    Conifer scoffed, ¡° I don¡¯t know what I should be more annoyed with, the fact that you weren¡¯t sure I had a plan or the fact that the question was also directed at the big stupid feline?¡±

    Ignoring Chrys¡¯s growling, I asked, ¡°So you have an idea on how to get out then?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s rather simple. Just follow me up until we get to the dining hall, then we ease our way into a hallway that¡¯s hidden away in the kitchen area, follow that a ways and there will be some stairs leading outside.¡±

    I nodded my consent. ¡°You¡¯re sure no one will see us at all?¡±

    Conifer waved a hand. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about being seen, no one will even care.¡±

    I glared at him. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t be stupid. Everyone¡¯s been told I¡¯m priority number one, everyone knows what I look like and will notice me creeping around with you two pretty easily.¡±

    Chrys shook his head while Conifer thought for a moment about the situation, looking rather confused about why it was important to hide at all. ¡°I tried to tell him this before,¡± Chrys said, annoyed.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you did,¡± I sighed, immediately having to dismiss the statement to Conifer. ¡°Do you have anything to cover me in? A cloak or something? Even a blanket would do.¡±

    Conifer looked around for one of these things to, presumably, be lying around for anyone to pick up, when he was hit with an epiphany. He removed his own cape, which was lined with fleece on the inside and was extremely warm, and gave it to me. ¡°This should be big enough where you can wrap it around you like a cloak.¡±

    I put it on, then tried figuring out what to do about a hood when it struck me that I could use my own shirt for that. So I took off my shirt and tried to wrap it around my head in a way that would resemble a hood. Conifer wasted no time in telling me¡ªwithout even trying to stifle a laugh¡ªthat I looked like a baby in a bonnet.

    ¡°Am I unrecognizable at least?¡±

    Making a show of it, he looked me up and down and nodded. ¡°Why I¡¯d wager not even your own mother would know it was you, my boy. Now come on, let¡¯s get going before people start waking up.¡±

    In near absolute silence, save for the swish of the cape I wore dusting the floor, or the minute click of Chrys¡¯ claws periodically nicking the ground, we made our way down those desperate halls, sneaking around corners and waiting with our hands on our mouths when people were wandering about in some sleepy stupor. It was a long walk to the dining hall, but in time we made it, though I thought for sure it wasn¡¯t night time anymore.

    This was all but confirmed when, upon turning our heads in, we saw that the dining hall was full. Soldiers were packed in there, all standing up and looking in the direction we were coming from. In a flash me and Conifer leapt back into the hall, both of us looking like we had seen our own ghosts.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± he hissed. ¡°How are we going to get passed that?¡±

    ¡°What if they come this way?¡± I asked, my stomach spinning my throat.

    Chrys shrugged, suggesting, ¡°Why not just walk through anyway? We could just say we were getting breakfast.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°That would never work. Maybe if it was just me and Conifer, but definitely not you involved. You stand out too much, Chrys.¡±

    That was the line of thought that brought about our idea for getting through. It was simple enough; send Chrys rampaging through the dining hall and distract everyone while Conifer and I passed through unnoticed. It wasn¡¯t exactly brilliant, and I felt a lot safer having Chrys with me than Conifer, but it would prevent us from getting caught at least.

    Besides, Chrys was very adamant about joining us as soon as he could.

    ¡°The second I give them the slip, I¡¯ll find you guys,¡± he assured me. ¡°I¡¯ll roar the moment I¡¯m out there, then we can find each other from there.¡±

    Like I said, it wasn¡¯t a brilliant plan. More than a couple things could go wrong with all this, but I nodded. Because even though it would be difficult, I trusted Chrys.

    Without giving it a second to plan or give us some time to let the whole idea sink in, Chrys launched himself into the dining hall and began wreaking havoc like an actual wild animal. The once subdued conversations of the soldiers turned into genuine fear and confusion as he started roaring, overturning tables and tossing food all over the ground. After we admired his work for a little, Conifer gave me a look like he wanted to get it over with right away and with a nod of mutual understanding, we snuck our way passed everyone quiet as a spider weaving webs in the corners of your ceiling, our breath held the whole way for good measure.

    Honestly, I didn¡¯t believe there would be some secret hallway in the dining hall. The location was too widely used, and there weren¡¯t really nooks or crannies to speak of. But Conifer had solid information, and behind a table in the far back was a slim, but existing crack in the wall that could be construed as a passageway if you squinted hard enough and added some imagination. It was a good thing Chrys hadn¡¯t tried to come with us; he wouldn¡¯t have fit in there. We made our way through it with our chests rubbing the stone wall, and the tightness of the space was making it harder and harder for me to breathe properly.

    We were lucky that the crack in the wall lead anywhere, but we weren¡¯t lucky in that it was not the location we had planned. A minor setback for old Conifer, but for me it was time to worry.

    ¡°I thought this was supposed to be the kitchen?¡± I asked, looking around the entirely empty alcove for an oven of some kind.

    ¡°No, no it must have been behind the kitchen,¡± Conifer muttered to himself, tapping a finger to his chin. ¡°It would make more sense, I suppose. Running through the kitchen and popping up above ground would be a little strange, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    I did. But the fact that we were now in uncharted territory outweighed how much that territory made sense.

    ¡°You have no clue where we are, do you?¡± I hissed, trying not to be too loud. When he didn¡¯t respond, I stomped over to him¡ªwhich was hard to do while being quiet¡ªand picked him up by the collar, shaking him. ¡°You have NO clue where we are, DO you?¡±

    Gulping, Conifer asked more politely than he had to, ¡°Put me down, Mint? I know where we are, I¡¯m just going by our instructions.¡±

    Cocking an eyebrow, I repeated, ¡°Instructions?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I found out about this route by talking to a soldier the other day during his down time,¡± he said. Then, pointing to the ground, he asked again, ¡°So can you put me down?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± I shook my head, let him down. ¡°Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mint. Tensions are high, after all!¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I whispered. ¡°Okay, so where to now?¡±

    ¡°For the most part, it should be pretty much a straight shot to the door out of here,¡± he said. ¡°We just need to go down the hallway straight ahead and to the¡­ right, I believe.¡±

    Irritated, I said, ¡°You believe.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± he assured me, and we went down the hallway ahead of us and to the right, him looking sure of himself, me feeling not so sure about the whole situation.

    The longer we walked, the longer it was silent, the more I became too anxious to remain comfortable simply walking in utter quiet. So, as slowly and surely as I possibly could, I removed the dagger I was holding from its sheath and looked it over with scrutiny. I¡¯d been spoiled by the blade Sage had given me before. This weapon was surely a weapon, there was no doubt about that; there were scratches and dings all along the blade, battle scars that held more stories than I probably hold right now in my old age. Bronze was the metal, cheap and flexible. A weak, if not reasonably reliable warriors weapon through and through.

    I frowned, sheathing it a little louder than I should have.

    Conifer nearly jumped from his skin. He held his chest when he turned to hiss, ¡°Don¡¯t do that! You scared me.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I sighed.

    Recovering slightly, he continued forward, me trudging behind him sluggishly. Seeing the full extent of the blades degradation reminded me that Sage had taken his own dagger back. And I knew in my head that it was his weapon, something truly special that he had probably worked very hard to get himself. But after using it to get out of so many scrapes on Clementine, it was hard to be told that I wasn¡¯t ready for it. Holding that beat up bronze blade in my hands brought my head back to that space again, and my thoughts started swirling as they so often did in this time, when I was never sure what I was doing and was constantly strung along by people who thought they knew more than I did.

    ¡°This is wrong,¡± I said to myself, louder than I wanted.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Conifer asked, stopping mid stride.

    I gasped when he responded, but said again, ¡°This is wrong, Conifer. We should go back.¡±

    ¡°What!?¡± he blurted out, grabbing my shoulders. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re getting cold feet now, Mint my boy. We¡¯re almost there! If you¡¯re worried about Chrys, don¡¯t. He¡¯ll find his way out, he¡¯s a smart animal.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the issue,¡± I said. ¡°I just feel like I¡¯m going to disappoint Sage doing this.¡±

    ¡°Sage doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s good for you,¡± Conifer stammered. ¡°He just hides away in his room, not really sure of what he¡¯s doing, leading us all along without thinking too hard about it.¡±

    ¡°Kind of like you¡¯re doing right now?¡± I asked, getting tired of how he was speaking to me.

    A bunch of noises then vomited out of Conifer¡¯s mouth, none of them resembling words, though a few did come close to being poor imitations.

    ¡°Why are you acting this way?¡± I snapped, feeling the blood start to boil in my head. ¡°You need to calm down, man. You never act like this!¡±

    He was still doing his awkward song when he stopped and took a long, deep breath. His expression was still infuriated, and I suddenly became aware of how deep the bags under his eyes were, how much blood had infiltrated his sclera, and just how uncomfortable he looked in general.

    ¡°Look, Mint,¡± he said, enunciating the words with a heavy staccato, like the words themselves were stabbing into me. ¡°I understand how you feel, but we¡¯re already almost out. Could you at least come out with me for a little while? We can come back right after.¡±

    His face was beading with sweat. I backed away from him, a shiver going up my spine. ¡°Are you okay, Conifer?¡±

    ¡°I will be if you just come with me!¡± he yelled, catching himself halfway through and lowering his voice. ¡°Please,¡± he added.

    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± I sighed, now completely unsure of what was happening. The grip on my dagger tightened. It was beginning to look more and more like I¡¯d be needing to use the thing.

    I just hoped¡ªsincerely¡ªthat I wouldn¡¯t need to use it on Conifer.

    We continued on, back to silence. Well, not quite back. This silence was thicker, the kind of silence that makes it hard to breathe. I wanted to ask Conifer all sorts of things, but I knew I wouldn¡¯t get a proper answer right then. The only thing attuning me at all to the situation beneath the situation were his odd mannerisms.

    I gasped, nearly stopping again. The thought hadn¡¯t crossed my mind up until then, but why had Chrys thought Conifer to be an intruder? He¡¯d seen him before plenty, so what was different this time? The weapons he carried? No, that could probably have been explained pretty simply. Chrys was a really good judge of people, though. He couldn¡¯t have been wrong.

    Soon enough, my hands were so sweaty that I was wiping my palms frantically on the fleecy inside of my cape, giving my hands a very furry quality that made an uncomfortable situation all the more uncomfortable.

    ¡°Ah, we¡¯re here!¡± Conifer exclaimed. He stood at the very end of the hall, where the only way to go was a right turn toward a stairway leading outside. My chest was pounding loudly, and I thought I heard music¡ªit was just a ringing in my ears.

    ¡°Come on, come on!¡± he urged. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with quickly, before someone sees us.¡±

    I¡¯m not sure what I expected to see when I got outside. If you asked me back then, I¡¯m sure I could have supplied an endless list of unbelievable answers that could have filled a children¡¯s horror story. And many of those things would have been less scary than what greeted me on the other side of that door.

    Have you ever experienced true, unfiltered fear? I¡¯m talking about fear that is unplanned, something that just seems to pull everything out from under you and sends your senses plummeting toward the earth, only for someone to catch them and just before you have a second to feel relieved, they begin sawing all your feelings and performing experiments on them of ghoulish design? Well, if you have you¡¯ll know what I mean. If you haven¡¯t, then may the gods continue their strange favoritism towards you, as I¡¯ll continue my jealousy towards you.

    There were about eleven of them in total, all massive and decked in full plate armor that shone heroically in the moonlight. Had they been on my side, I may have called them gallant. They all carried weapons that made humongous look more miniscule, and their leader made them look even smaller than that. He was someone I was all too familiar with, which if anything was half the reason I was so scared.

    ¡°There he is,¡± Bitter said, his voice tremendous like thunder. ¡°You¡¯ve done well for us, skinny one.¡±

    Conifer was now visibly shaking, and the pieces of the puzzle I¡¯d been trying to solve were tossed on the floor.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, looking from Bitter to Conifer, Conifer to Bitter, and back again. ¡°This was a set up?¡±

 Chapter Thirty-One

    Is there any shame in saying I puked? If there is, I can say I cried instead. That wouldn¡¯t be the truth, though; the truth is that once I understood that Conifer, a man who I decided of my own free will¡ªsort of¡ªto befriend, had betrayed me, well it was just too much for me to take. Along with the fact that it was Bitter, of all people, who was standing there, well I¡¯m honestly surprised I didn¡¯t vacate more space in my body.

    ¡°What is this?¡± I asked, my mouth burning in acidic fury.

    ¡°S-s-sorry, M-Mi-Mi-Mint,¡± Conifer stuttered, looking like he was contemplating using his rusty dagger on himself.

    ¡°Sorry?¡± I repeated, so quiet I¡¯m surprised anyone heard me.

    ¡°Oh, you two know each other?¡± Bitter said. He took a few lumbering steps forward, then made a noise of acknowledgement. ¡°Ohhhh,¡± he said, tugging his thick black beard. ¡°That¡¯s right, you were that brittle man who tried to fight me,¡± he laughed. ¡°I hadn¡¯t realized it was you we had grabbed. Ha-ha! Oh, this is something special, isn¡¯t it boys?¡±

    All ten men said, ¡°Aye!¡± in perfect unison.

    ¡°Ohhhh, ha-ha! Life sure is full of little surprises, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± I said, gritting my teeth and glaring at Conifer. He looked like a dog that had eaten every dinner you¡¯d ever made and gotten yelled at for each instance in a single sentence. Even so, I couldn¡¯t feel bad for him, only extreme anger. At him, and at myself for going against Sage¡¯s wishes.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s get going then boys,¡± Bitter said, finally stifling his own amusement. ¡°Grab them and let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Them?¡± Conifer yelped, his eyes wild and wider than I thought possible.

    ¡°Oh come now,¡± Bitter sniggered. ¡°You really thought I¡¯d just let you run off? No, to be safe I have to bring you along as well. You understand; it¡¯s just how this business works.¡±

    ¡°Business!?¡± Conifer spat, looking less and less like a man and more like danger itself. Which was a massive achievement considering his physique and overall countenance. If anything, that made it more frightening for me¡ªit¡¯s always those you least suspect, or something like that, right? ¡°You made a promise!¡±

    ¡°Did I?¡± Bitter asked, looking very much done with the discussion. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize I had to obey our little agreement. Was there a reason I should have followed through on my part?¡± He leaned in close to Conifer, who made the mistake of gasping, throwing away any semblance of bravery he could have possibly housed in that small frame of his and replacing it with weakness, the spitting image of prey near predator. ¡°As I understand it, my army,¡± he motioned to his warriors behind him, ¡°They¡¯re fighting the army that defends you. You helped us, sure. And I¡¯m sure in your little, insignificant mind you thought that was a favor, right? We¡¯d give up those girls and you three would run off into the sunset, living out your life beautifully and wonderfully; a touching notion, absolutely unrealistic.¡±

    He smacked Conifer with enough force to send him sprawling to the ground, then turned and made eye contact with me. Smiling, he said, ¡°You should keep better company, little prince. It might be too late, but I¡¯ll give you a lesson in life right now that I wish I had learned at your age. Do you know what sort of man that is?¡± He pointed at Conifer, now weeping into the dirt with as much grace as an abandoned fish in search of anything besides sand on the beach.

    ¡°Scum,¡± was all I said.

    Bitter¡¯s smile became a grin. ¡°You catch on quick, little prince. He¡¯s scum. Worse than scum, he¡¯s a snake whose belly knows only the dirt. He¡¯ll do only what he has to in a sorry attempt to save himself and those he deems worth saving, while throwing those he deems unworthy to the wolves. You¡¯d do well to keep away from men such as him.¡±

    I took one last look at Conifer, then spit the taste out of my mouth, hoping to get rid of the terrible taste of bile around my teeth.

    One warrior went to grab Conifer and carry him off to wherever it was we were going, while Bitter guided me with one huge palm on my back. It was strange how non confrontational he was¡­ how friendly he was. The last time I had seen Bitter, I was trying to kill him. Now, it was like we were old friends, or at least like acquaintances who¡¯d never engaged in any act of violence.

    ¡°Ha-ha!¡± he laughed as quietly as he could, which was still rather loud. I turned reactively, and he waved a hand. ¡°Sorry, I was just reading your thoughts.¡±

    ¡°My thoughts?¡± I asked, confused.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been told that I¡¯m rather talented in the art of reading faces,¡± he said, sounding serious. ¡°To me, it looks like you are uncomfortable with this situation. A fair assessment, no?¡±

    I scratched my head, shrugged. ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s sort of an easy thing to guess based on the situation, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°You might be right,¡± he acknowledged. ¡°Still, I¡¯m right, yes? You¡¯re nervous to be this close to me after our fight.¡±

    When I didn¡¯t respond, he asked again and I nodded.

    ¡°Hah! I thought so. Well, you¡¯ve nothing to worry about, little prince. We are on the same side now, and so I won¡¯t fight you as long as we are allies.¡± He patted my shoulder, rough enough to knock me down if I wasn¡¯t prepared. ¡°However,¡± he said, his voice a shade darker. ¡°If you desire a fight, I¡¯m more than willing to oblige. I¡¯ve wanted a rematch since our last one was cut short.¡±

    ¡°If you hurt anyone here, then you¡¯ll get more than a rematch,¡± I said, emotion welling up and throwing my logic out of the way.

    Leaning closer, he whispered, ¡°Don¡¯t tempt me, little prince.¡±

    We continued on, being lead outside of the walls which were largely unguarded due to the commotion we started in the dining hall, and we were lead down to the beach off to the western portion of the island. Floating further out in the sea were an incredible amount of boats, more than I¡¯d ever seen in my life up to that point. There were a handful of larger boats very far out, and then speckled across the sea were smaller rowboats filled to the brim with warriors, all coming to shore fast. A single, larger boat was anchored closer to shore, just a few hairs shy of being the same size as the boat Sage had taken me on a few months ago.

    ¡°Alright boys, go put the snake in the cage,¡± Bitter commanded.

    Puzzled, one warrior spoke up. ¡°Sir, why not put the prince in there? Wouldn¡¯t that make more sense?¡±

    ¡°And let him out of my sight? Foolish! You know nothing of what this boy is capable of,¡± Bitter scolded, his grip on my shoulder getting more intense the louder he got.

    ¡°Yes sir!¡± was all they said, and they were off.

    Bitter lead me over to a spot away from where the boats were hitting the shore, and I grew concerned for my well being. Having Conifer there was a comfort, even though whenever I looked at him I wanted to launch him as far away from me as possible. It wasn¡¯t his fault he was a weak idiot, after all. Just as it wasn¡¯t my fault I was¡­ never mind. Remember to edit that.

    Once we were alone, Bitter ripped the cape I was wearing off me and took away the dagger I was holding. Then, for good measure, he started to pat me down. Everywhere.

    ¡°I get it now,¡± I said, feeling my face redden against my wishes.

    ¡°Hmph?¡±

    ¡°You took me this way so you wouldn¡¯t appear to love boys,¡± I said, feeling satisfied. Sometimes, I miss finding such uncouth notions funny as I had when I was younger. It was a simpler time.

    Still, it didn¡¯t work out for me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what life is like in Avocado,¡± he said, finishing the pat down, ¡°But where I¡¯m from, love is love and no one cares about it. You¡¯d be better off worrying about yourself than the love life of others.¡±

    Even schoolboy humor was dismissed with professional aptitude.

    He was looking over my dagger when someone came marching over to us. They were in full plate armor, a dark red color that looked black in the night, adorned with a cape that wasn¡¯t too long so it wouldn¡¯t get in the way in a fight. A long, ornate blade rested on their waste, slim and elegant in its make. He held a fist above his heart, and Bitter did the same in salute.

    ¡°General Bitter, have you a report on the¡­Oh!¡± They turned to me, and I think they looked at me¡ªtheir helmet completely covered their face, muffling their voice. ¡°It appears you have found the boy, then.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°You¡¯d do well to remember he¡¯s a prince, Sour,¡± Bitter whispered.

    ¡°Is he really? I was under the impression¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sou-r-r,¡± Bitter growled.

    ¡°Right,¡± he said, nervous. ¡°Sorry, Prince Peppermint. Well, in any case, is there anything to report on the fort they keep? We know they have their tunnels, but are there any other secrets?¡±

    Heat washed over me; they knew about the tunnels too? How much had Conifer told these guys?

    ¡°They have a group of fighters, but they aren¡¯t much,¡± Bitter sighed, sounding disappointed. ¡°There are only a handful to worry about, primarily Sage and his crazy cook. Otherwise, it¡¯ll be a wash. Not even really worth the fight, truth be told.¡±

    ¡°How sad for you,¡± Sour remarked, sounding sarcastic. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll leave you two to it then. At this pace, we¡¯ll be back on the sea by dawn.¡±

    Bitter nodded. ¡°Be careful, Sour. Missions always sound great before they start.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s already started, and it¡¯s going just fine,¡± Sour said, then returned to the shoreline.

    Turning back to me, Bitter shook his head and sheathed my dagger, returning it to me.

    ¡°Uhm,¡± I said, staring at the weapon. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it make more sense for you to keep it?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°No need. You won¡¯t try to escape, and that thing is not much. Such poor condition! You really should take better care of your weapons, being a prince and all.¡±

    ¡°About that,¡± I said, deciding to take a chance and get some information of my own while I was stuck like this. ¡°That knight¡ªSour, was it? They were protesting my title. And I had heard rumors that there was still a Prince Peppermint in my absence, a prince who looked suspiciously like Prince Sumac of Cashew.¡±

    Bitter¡¯s face grew stiff and stoney, an emotionless mask.

    ¡°There wouldn¡¯t happen to be some truth to that, would there, Bitter?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± he muttered. ¡°But they are rumors, little prince. And with you being alive, well, I think it would be silly to think Sumac would retain his position, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±

    He didn¡¯t deny it. My mother had taken Sumac in and used him as my replacement. Which meant that the coup was, partially at least, orchestrated by her. I had thought for the longest time that learning more about the situation might make me feel better, put me at ease. In that moment, however, I felt more anger well in me than I could possibly endure, so much so that I felt like my chest would cave in and I¡¯d die right where I stood. Maybe it was panic, more than anger. Panic over the notion that I was effectively erased from existence by the person I¡¯d devoted myself to my whole life.

    And here I was, once again, lacking control but being told I had it, being seen as so insignificant that I could hold a weapon and be captured simultaneously, because I couldn¡¯t possibly act.

    I felt like a fool. Even more writing this.

    Bitter stayed there, at the edge of the beach with on hand on my shoulder and one hand propping his head up, looking very fed up with what he considered boring work, while I remained vigilant through my swirling emotions and tried to make sense of what was about to happen. If I couldn¡¯t be there to help, I¡¯d at least understand everything the enemy was about to do, every crime they¡¯d commit against me and my allies. In this way I would exact my revenge, or at least that¡¯s what I told myself to make myself feel less than sad.

    From my position, I could see that Sour was assembling soldiers into neat rows of about ten, and if my mental arithmetic was correct there were about one thousand soldiers under Sour¡¯s command. Against a standard army, that would be not anywhere near enough; a general commanded upwards of ten thousand warriors, and a typical army had a few generals at their disposal. In this case, it was still a piece of logistical genius on the part of whomever organized the attack on Sage. They had a little under double the amount of soldiers we had, and theirs were higher quality by and large.

    And, I thought with cold sweat running down my spine, more were still rowing to shore in this longboats.

    ¡°No wonder they aren¡¯t sending you,¡± I stuttered, utter hopelessness in my every action.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Bitter grunted, nearly asleep.

    ¡°There are so many people here, there¡¯s no way anyone is going to survive this, is there?¡±

    Bitter shook my shoulder like I was his nephew. ¡°Little prince, you misunderstand what is happening. Not that I can blame you, you¡¯re too young to do battle in most countries. And too short, for that matter.¡±

    ¡°Beratings aside, could you explain?¡±

    He smirked, eyes glistening from the moonlight. ¡°Certainly. There were two parts to our assignment here. The first is already complete, that being our retrieval of you. The second, however, isn¡¯t something so vague or destructive as you seem to believe.¡±

    Standing up straighter, he watched with me as Sour began a march so fierce that I¡¯m sure the ceiling was shaking in our haven beneath us. ¡°The only person that group is here to kill is Sage. Basil is an added bonus, but he¡¯s not anywhere near as important.¡±

    I frowned, confused. ¡°What about the others down below?¡±

    Bitter shrugged. ¡°To be honest, most people respect the empire Sage has built here. It¡¯s not a big empire, nor a strong one. But it¡¯s undeniably a noble one, in that he has brought together the lost puppies of war, and mended many fences in doing so. If we were to begin murdering these people indiscriminately, as you believe we will, we would only be tarnishing our own names, let alone the banners we fight under. This mission of ours is as discreet as we could possibly make it.¡±

    I turned to him, still bearing the same expression. ¡°Then why is it the last time you were here you destroyed everything here?¡±

    A grin more wolf than man became his visage, and he said, ¡°I always say, my little prince, what¡¯s a visit to old friends without a little hell raising?¡±

    Right on cue, the backline of soldiers began setting the forest alight with torches they carried. Which, ironically, made Bitter swear and move our position away from the foliage we stood near. ¡°Shit,¡± he grumbled. ¡°I was just getting comfortable.¡±

    Now we sat on the shore, closer to where the soldiers were still budding and multiplying by the blink of your eye. Here, the breeze was gentle and almost calming despite the scenery. I kept my head down, staring at the dagger and the implications it held within its sheath, while I eavesdropped on the soldiers as they made shore. Most said nothing worthwhile, but a few tried speaking to Bitter a few times. I don¡¯t remember the specifics of what they said, but for the most part it boiled down to, ¡°Why are you babysitting?¡±

    He¡¯d then chuckle, filled with enough mirth to burst, and he¡¯d joke, ¡°Well, I know to you boys he may not look like much, but the little prince here is more formidable than you¡¯d think based merely on looks. Even I have a hard time fighting the little runt, and that¡¯s the truth!¡±

    This would usually cause the soldiers to reciprocate laughter, much to my dismay, and I¡¯d think about all the things I would never have the guts to do.

    More time passed, and the flames grew higher as the night neared closer to dawn, and I began wondering about the well-being of my friends. The one I was most concerned about wasn¡¯t Sage, nor Basil, not even the Rose or Parsley, instead I was stuck on Chrys. Not only did I feel bad that he was stuck back there, but he was the one who tried to make sure none of this was set into motion in the first place by stopping Conifer. I figured he only let me go with Conifer because I knew him beforehand and Chrys didn¡¯t want to dismiss him right away. As an old man, I realize this was partially his own fault; he really should have warned me about his behavior. Still, I blamed myself and that feeling still resides in me.

    My thoughts were broken by a heavy yawn from Bitter, spreading that diseased smelling muck he called breath into my lungs and nearly killing me. ¡°Ugh they¡¯re taking way too long,¡± he droned. ¡°It¡¯s not that difficult to smoke him out, we already know where he is and we¡¯ve got the lad out here. You¡¯d think by now I¡¯d be seeing something to¡ª¡±

    Before he was done that thought, a scream that redefined ear piercing dismantled his monologue. Five bodies blasted through the blazing circle of fire that surrounded the walls of the fort, each looking as close to death as one could get without dying, their skin exuding the smell of burning meat, their mouths all fallen open, eyes blank as sheets.

    The normal reaction would be something like fright, sadness, panic, anything to the effect of distress. That¡¯s normal.

    Bitter laughed, and not the laugh he¡¯d been doing in conversations. This was absolutely jovial, pure happiness.

    ¡°There it is,¡± he said. ¡°Now where¡¯s our star?¡±

    More bodies descended then, all soldiers that had just a while ago rowed to shore. One body nearly hit me, and instead of moving aside with me, Bitter just punched it away before it could hit the ground, sending it skipping across the sand with a revolting crunch.

    ¡°Come on!¡± Bitter roared, suddenly tossing me to the ground. I was forgotten, but too surprised to do anything with that opportunity other than cough up sand and watch. ¡°Where are you, Moss Knight? Where is Sage the False King? Show yourself!¡± When no one came through the flames, Bitter took a deep breath and undid the leather armor he wore, tossing it to the ground, showing off a body that would more accurately be referred to simply as scar tissue.

    Just as I began fearing he might take his frustration out on me, a body flew through the flames right in front of Bitter, only this one wasn¡¯t knocked out just yet. Sour stood¡ªbarely¡ªin armor that was red hot and ripped apart, revealing his now partially burned face.

    Sour raised his blade up and was met with a small green orb that looked very much like the one I had seen earlier in the night. His blade clanged with it briefly before being thrust from his hand and into the sea. Sour brought his arms into a cross guard in front of his face, and he was also knocked away with a similar green orb, falling into the sea with a splash. My heart raced again, this time with excitement; I gripped my dagger and tried formulating a plan of action. I could definitely surprise either Bitter or Sour and get a kill on them, evening the odds a bit.

    Sage walked through the flames, surrounded by an orb of Vastmire that protected him so well that he didn¡¯t have to make his trip through the fire a speedy one, instead opting for the slow and ominous look. He was already locking eyes with Bitter before they could have possibly known where their eyes would be, as if they¡¯d been fighting each other the whole time. Sage¡¯s face was the angriest I had ever seen it. I think if every being of power¡ªgods, devils, monsters, kings, queens, all of them¡ªwere standing there waiting for him behind those flames, they would all squeal at the same time and run away in different directions. He didn¡¯t even have a weapon in his hands. He didn¡¯t need it.

    Bitter stood his ground, meeting his angry face with one of sinister mirth. ¡°There you are,¡± he said, grinning wolfishly.

    Without looking at me, Sage said, ¡°I see you have my son.¡±

    Bitter licked his lips. ¡°Do I?¡±

    Sage nodded.

    ¡°Well? Want to fight about it?¡±

    In answer, Sage launched a green orb into Bitter¡¯s shoulder that was so strong it sent him back ten steps, and down under the sand about twenty.

    ¡°We¡¯ve fought for less,¡± Sage said, absolute calm in his voice despite his actions.

    And once again, my plans to help were shot down. This time not because I couldn¡¯t help, but because I was unnecessary. I don¡¯t know which hurts more.

 Chapter Thirty-Two

    There have been a couple times in my life where I¡¯ve been prompted to tell this story, and when I do I always get the same question, without fail. ¡°Sage said you were his son? Well how did you react?¡± The answer to that isn¡¯t exactly what you¡¯d think. I don¡¯t talk about it all that often, and I haven¡¯t really mentioned it in this written account, but I did know my father. He was a great man, a strong man with a sense of justice unparalleled in all of Longan. A lot like Sage, maybe? Well, sort of. But not really, no. My father wasn¡¯t a great man and often left home on journeys that were both fruitless and useless, as my mother would often rhyme in seemingly endless ways whenever the topic of him came up. In addition, he was a lot taller than Sage was, and he looked even older. So there was no way Sage could possibly have been my father, in all logical sense it was a strange thing for him to say. So when I heard him say I was his son, my reaction wasn¡¯t that of a boy finding his long lost father. It was a captive weeping for joy that his savior had come.

    I¡¯d later learn the reason behind his statement was far more complex than I could have discerned based merely upon hearing it in the heat of the moment.

    Sage stood at the edge of the ditch he¡¯d made, awaiting Bitter¡¯s return by weaving another ball in his hand in the meantime. I ran as far away as I could without losing sight of the battle. The way it was going, it looked like it would take up a significant area of the beach anyway.

    Bitter rose from the hole, sand falling in droves all around him as he cracked his massive knuckles one by one. ¡°Think this through,¡± Bitter said, an odd statement. ¡°If you fight here and now, you will die.¡±

    ¡°Not if you keep talking,¡± Sage bellowed, launching the orb he¡¯d been cooking. This time, Bitter sidestepped it eloquently and shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious, Sage,¡± he said, looking more grave than he should. ¡°You¡¯re going to die today, and I¡¯d rather keep you alive for another fight. But if you fight me today, you¡¯re going to die. Just get out of here.¡±

    In a flash, they were locked in a submission, Sage pulling up on Bitter¡¯s head and pushing his knee into his spine. ¡°If I were to leave, I would be allowed to take Peppermint with me?¡±

    Groaning, Bitter croaked, ¡°No.¡±

    At that, Sage¡¯s hands glowed green and he threw himself off of Bitter as fast as he¡¯d gotten on. ¡°Well, then let¡¯s make this a good fight. If it¡¯s going to be our last, then it may as well be our best.¡±

    Bitter was on the ground coughing up heaps of spit and sand, and quickly it became choking, then even quicker it was hoarse laughter. By the time he was on his feet he was in tears, and I was a hundred steps away wondering what punchline I had missed. ¡°A fool to the end,¡± he wheezed. ¡°But one I will cherish. Let¡¯s finish this, you horrible bastard.¡±

    What commenced then was the fastest, most brutal beatdown I had ever witnessed up to that point and is still a contentender for the most even fight I¡¯ve ever seen in my life. It was implied, and later confirmed to me that Bitter and Sage had fought a ton in their lifetimes, even on a few occasions being partnered together in the same army. They were lifelong rivals, and they shared a respect for one another that was unparalleled on the battlefield. All of this also meant that, despite Sage being ridiculously powerful, Bitter knew all of Sage¡¯s powers and had a huge one of his own: he was hard to hurt. Dammit, more than that he was impossible to hurt. Some might have said he was an immortal, others might have said he was a god. No matter what, though, you had to give him credit for one thing; he could take endless beatings and get back up.

    They started out by trading blow for blow, each hit sending them digging their feet deeper and deeper into the sand, Sage hitting Bitter with fists to the face, and Bitter knocking Sage off balance with penetrating elbows to the stomach. After taking some of those hits, Sage was looking weak. He¡¯d been dealing with all those other soldiers already, so by this point he was probably much more exhausted than he was letting on. So in an attempt to end things faster, he started implementing Vastmire into his attacks, using everything that he had to beat Bitter down.

    Bitter picked up on this fast, sidestepping Sage¡¯s next punch, allowing him to counter. Sage nearly fell over due to following through too much, and when he turned around his face was met with a lariat, sending him nearly head over ass into the ground with such speed I might have laughed if the stakes weren¡¯t what they were.

    ¡°You said this fight would be our best,¡± Bitter yelled, spitting blood. ¡°This has yet to be in my top ten. You¡¯ve wasted too much energy. Just take my advice, Sage, and leave this place.¡± Bitter then knelt down and hoisted Sage up so that his ear was next to his mouth, and I think he whispered something to him. I couldn¡¯t hear anything from my position, all I saw was the blast Sage hit him with that sent him careening into the trees, out of sight. Sage took off in a flash and there was a silence so unnerving that I was in the process of deciding if I should follow when I saw Bitter¡¯s body fly from the trees into the air, so high above the ground it looked like he was a star. Sage leapt after him, not wanting to allow him time to recover. He grabbed him by the ankles and spun once, twice, thrice, then on the fourth spin he let go and Bitter was hurtling toward the ground like a meteor. His landing sent sand flying everywhere, and I shielded my eyes with my left hand in my face, almost forgetting that I held a dagger in my right hand. When the sound of sand raining down had ceased, I peaked out and saw Sage continuing the onslaught without stopping. He was parallel to Bitter, floating a step above him, launching a flurry of fists into his stomach with enough strength that the ground started to crater all around him. The most unsettling part was the noise; Sage was yelling this guttural, beastly roar that was designed to place fear in the hearts of men. I felt myself backing away, and I had to tell myself that there was nothing to fear.

    It was then that I heard water splash, and I gasped as I turned and saw Sour bent over, coughing up water and looking like a wreck, his armor torn in places and absolutely waterlogged. His helmet was ripped, which was a feat in itself considering it was steel, revealing a bright blue eye that shone in the moonlight with a rage that seemed never ending.

    He was looking at me.

    The fear I had just told myself to get over came back even stronger, and I nearly dropped my dagger.

    Some of you might be confused, thinking I had become more used to fighting. Why in this very account I argued it myself, telling Sage that I should fight. That I had grown.

    This was the moment I was starting to become aware that I had grown, but not enough.

    Sour¡¯s glare was stronger than anything Dil and his harpies ever did, stronger even than Chrys¡¯s gaze. Perhaps even stronger than Bitter¡¯s, who had an air of good humor even when he was being scary.

    Slowly, agonizingly so, Sour took step after step, water flowing ceaselessly from every opening on his suit of armor, dampening the sand around him and quickening the flow of my blood from my head to my heart. My legs said run. I looked behind me and saw that Sage and Bitter were still going back and forth, Bitter now skipping Sage across the sand like a stone on water.

    I looked back and saw Sour still limping towards me, dragging his sword, drawing a line in the sand that would soon lead to me.

    My decision was made before I thought to make it. My legs just started moving, before I even turned all the way around. I ran, one step, two steps, and already on the third step I fell, my mouth now full of sand, my eyes burning from the grains, and the twister in my head wreaking havoc on my ability to solve this problem before me.

    Sour stood a few steps away now. He raised the sword in his hand slowly, making a huge arc that went from the ground in front of him to behind his head, nearly a whole circle.

    I spit sand from my mouth, crab walking back, ready to hold my dagger up to defend myself. I tightened my grip around the hilt. My stomach flipped; I was clenching sand.

    The blade came down on me slowly, soundlessly. I rolled, curled in a fetal position, hopeful I would dodge.

    I think I would have dodged it.

    Fortunately for me, I didn¡¯t have to.

    I heard a roar and a clank, followed by a cry that was decidedly high pitched, and a splash that was familiar and welcome. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted with Chrys standing above me, roaring out a challenge in my defense.

    ¡°Are you alright, Mint?¡± he asked, still standing above me.

    ¡°For now,¡± I choked out, still struggling with the sand in my teeth. ¡°What about you?¡± Something hot hit my arm, and I saw blood was dripping freely from his left leg. ¡°You¡¯re hurt.¡±

    ¡°Just a scratch,¡± he said. ¡°Those soldiers were quick to enjoy me as an ally. Not long after you and Conifer left, we were under attack.¡±

    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± I groaned, annoyed. ¡°I should have adhered to your warnings.¡± I crawled out from underneath him and saw his face was even worse than his leg, a long cut going across one cheek, over his nose, and onto the opposite cheek in a neat, symmetrical line, draping his mouth and foliage in dark red ichor.

    ¡°You¡¯re healthy,¡± he said, still watching where Sour fell into the water. ¡°That¡¯s all I care about. Where is Conifer now?¡±

    I pointed to the boat he¡¯d been taken to, then glanced back toward where Sage and Bitter were. Now Sage was holding him down, threatening a green orb to Bitter¡¯s face.

    ¡°Chrys, would you come with me to that boat?¡±

    He looked at me with a blaze in his eyes. ¡°You wish revenge on Conifer?¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°As much as he probably deserves it, no. We¡¯re going to save him, along with whoever else is there.¡± Digging around in the sand for a moment, I found my dagger buried below where I had fallen. ¡°I¡¯m unsure, but I think they have Rose and her mother on that boat, perhaps more. If we can save them, then maybe we can get out of here.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t we commandeer that boat once we release them and remove the guards?¡± Chrys suggested.

    ¡°If things go well, then that sounds fine to me,¡± I said with a nod, and with one last look behind me, we ran off toward the boat, kicking sand up all around us. I did my absolute best not to look behind me, and my body was hot with worry.

    When we reached the boat, I scrambled up the hull and hid behind the portion of the hull which rose up to form a rail. I peaked out from my spot and saw that Bitter and Sage were still very busy, and Sour was nowhere in sight¡ªat least, I couldn¡¯t see him in that short glance, which meant he most likely didn¡¯t know where I was. I breathed a sigh of relief, holding a hand to my forehead in anticipation and pain from the ache it held.

    Chrys nudged me with his muzzle and I nearly hit him due to nerves. His eyes were as close to worried as they could get despite a lack of expressiveness inherent in his beastly face. ¡°Come,¡± he whispered, as gently as I¡¯d ever heard him. ¡°Let¡¯s get this done before things get worse, Mint.¡±

    Those words nearly had me break down, but instead I nodded and followed Chrys, crouching so I could remain as hidden as possible. The sun was beginning to peak out over the horizon, and I knew that we had little time to get this all done. We eased ourselves down a few steps, and when we got to the door Chrys flicked his head towards it, wordlessly telling me to open it for him so we could stay as silent as possible. Slowly, I pushed the door inward, and it creaked louder than any door I¡¯d ever heard. We poked our heads in, but saw no one there to greet us and decided we¡¯d split up from there, Chrys going forward, and I going left.

    The halls of the boat were dimly lit, with nothing but a few candles sparsely strewn about. My left hand was on the wall, my right on my dagger, and every little noise had me on edge.  It didn¡¯t take too long for me to see a door at the end of my hall, and with trepidation I opened it.

    It was pretty dark in that room as well, with two candles at the far corners lighting things and no windows to allow for additional aid in the trial of sight I was about to undergo¡ªat high speed, no less. There were three people in the room, two were standing and one was crouching it looked like, or sitting on a chair that was low to the ground. The standing ones moved when they saw me, and when they turned a shadow fell across their bodies, and I wasn¡¯t sure if they were enemies. But the energy that I felt was sinister, and instinctively I ran forward and stabbed with my little dagger, staying low to the ground so I wouldn¡¯t get hit. My body was still not quite healed from my fight with Dil, and I felt off in my movements, nearly tripping when I went to lunge my blade forward but maintaining my balance. I heard three noises in that moment, two deep voices grunting in surprise and a female voice gasping and sobbing. My dagger vibrated with a deeper voice, and with their position given away I yanked the blade awkwardly and sliced it through the remainder of my targets stomach, swinging it from one body to the next to take them both out in one motion. Writing this, I still can¡¯t believe it worked; anyone using this as some sort of guide to combat should know that they should never, and I mean never, practice any of the things I mention in this book. The style of my childhood fighting was primarily one of luck and savagery that more often than not resulted in my own injury just as much as the injuries of my enemies. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    If you¡¯d like any sort of advice, actually, here¡¯s my biggest tip for fighting: Don¡¯t do it. Just don¡¯t fight. Seriously. It¡¯s not worth all the trouble, and more often than not you can work something out with people and come to an understanding. Ideological solutions like this are more typically regarded as fantasy, unconventional, and poor choices all around when a sword will finish the job just fine. But the world that most people want is a good world, and if you don¡¯t take the step to really attempt diplomacy you will just keep breeding the sort of violence you hate. A wise man once said violence breeds violence.

    Word is, he was killed for it.

    Anyway, back to me murdering two men I couldn¡¯t see.

    Removing the blade from my victims, I kicked them both in the head a few times for good measure, then took a moment to analyze my blade. The edges were already knicked. I wasn¡¯t sure how many times I could do that, but based on the damage to it I knew that it wouldn¡¯t take many attacks like that to decimate the dagger and turn it into a thin, useless club.

    ¡°Shit,¡± I mumbled, wiping the blood from it. Then I whispered, ¡°Is that you, Rose?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s her mother, Parsley,¡± she said, her voice shaking. ¡°I¡¯m tied up, I can¡¯t move.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I whispered. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, just hold still and I can cut you free.¡±

    When I went to saw at the ropes that had her hands and feet tied, the blade was already unable to get through the rope without heavy force applied to it. I¡¯m thankful that Parsley wasn¡¯t an idiot like me and was able to use her head in that moment, because she said, ¡°Don¡¯t do that! If you cut through with that much force you¡¯ll end up cutting me!¡±

    I pulled the dagger away fearfully, staring at the ugly fray of the knot before darting my eyes around for an idea.

    ¡°Just grab one of theirs,¡± Parsley said, nodding toward the bodies on the floor. ¡°They should have something for this and I¡¯m sure it will be much better than that.¡±

    I tossed the dagger to the floor, happy to be rid of it. Feeling around on their bodies as softly as possible out of fear they¡¯d come back to life, I found a knife on the first one that was sheathed in his belt loop. It was short, but didn¡¯t have the ragged edges of mine and looked more reliable for the task I needed of it. Taking it back to Parsley proved its worth, as it cut the ropes with buttery ease and I didn¡¯t hurt her in the process. When I went down to cut loose her ankles, she shivered and demanded, ¡°We have to go find Rose.¡±

    ¡°Where is she?¡± I asked, tossing the rope aside.

    Parsley rubbed at where the rope had burned her skin on her wrists before shaking her head. ¡°They separated us when we got here. But I know she¡¯s here, so we just have to find her.¡±

    Smirking, I turned the other body over and found a knife on him too. His was a little longer but of similar make and feel, unremarkable but reliable. I put the smaller one through my own belt loop and held the longer one at the ready. ¡°You seem pretty calm, considering the situation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± she declared, matter-of-factly. ¡°I just know what we must do.¡± Then she pushed past me, ready to find her daughter.

    I should probably have gone in front of her, but my ability to lead was never good, and her determination was intense. ¡°Stay close to me,¡± she whispered. I just nodded, following obediently.

    We creaked along the tired floorboards as quietly as we could, careful not to alert anyone of our presence. Parsley grabbed the first candle we passed so we would have better light, and I could avoid hugging the walls as we went. In only a few steps, however, a loud roar pierced through the silence and Parsley nearly jumped from her skin.

    ¡°Shh,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s just Chrys. He went down the other end of the boat to help save you guys.¡±

    ¡°So he might be with Rose then?¡± she asked, wary.

    I nodded, and I¡¯m sure she was more worried than if I said I wasn¡¯t sure what the noise was. Most people weren¡¯t exactly fond of him, and I could tell that Parsley was definitely in the group of people who thought he was more dangerous than helpful. I couldn¡¯t blame her. She couldn¡¯t hear what he had to say, and placing blind faith into a creature like him is downright stupid.

    No offense to him, of course.

    Parsley got a rude awakening that night.

    A loud roar came again and we stopped by the stairs. Then another roar, and I could tell it was angry. I was scared for whatever Chrys was dealing with, but Parsley was immobile. I grabbed her shoulder and she screamed.

    ¡°Parsley! Parsley calm down!¡± I shouted, sure no one would hear us with Chrys making all that noise. ¡°Let me go on ahead, if you want you can go up these steps and wait there.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°No, no, let me follow.¡±

    ¡°Okay, just stay calm. It¡¯s going to be okay, I didn¡¯t come here just to fail.¡± She looked like she wanted to cry, but she kept her face as straight as possible and stayed close behind me, her light helpful in that dim hall.

    There were a few doors along that hall, more than the other hallway, but the roaring was obviously coming from the end of the hall and a few of the doors were opened, as if people had left to see what the commotion was. This had me worried; Chrys might be fighting more people than he can handle. I found myself running, leaving Parsley winded as she tried to keep up with me, and when I pushed the door open I was greeted with a more confusing scene than I had anticipated.

    Nine or ten bodies were strewn out around what was a mostly empty room, windowless and furnitureless, with four candles in each corner of the room keeping things bright near the walls and dim in the center. The center of the room was the stage, however, as a vicious argument was taking place between Conifer and Chrys, albeit a one sided one.

    ¡°You idiot!¡± Chrys snarled to Conifer, who was also tied up but stuck lying on his side, facing the wall away from me. ¡°You limp-backed, no good, frivolous pile of¡ª¡±

    ¡°Chrys, that¡¯s enough,¡± I yelled, loud so I could be heard over his roaring and Conifer¡¯s whimpering. ¡°He can¡¯t even understand what you¡¯re saying, remember?¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Chrys growled, inching toward Conifer¡¯s shaking form. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean he didn¡¯t get the message.¡±

    Sighing, I nodded. ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± I muttered. ¡°Well, stop anyway. Was he the only one in the room?¡±

    Parsley came out from behind me, now a little more sure of herself seeing my demeanor change. ¡°Where¡¯s my daughter?¡± she asked. ¡°Where¡¯s Rose?¡±

    Conifer, between heavy breaths, replied, ¡°I¡¯ve only been here for a little while. I haven¡¯t seen Rose anywhere.¡±

    Parsley asked again, and I could feel the tension emanating off of her, so I decided to go back and see if there was anything going on in the rooms whose doors were left open. They were all devoid of life; there was a storage room, a small kitchen area, and a larger room that was filled with beds and a few windows facing toward the sea. I turned those rooms upside down, but there was no sign of anyone.

    When I returned, Chrys was waiting by the door. I looked at him confused and he said, ¡°They¡¯re talking, and it¡¯s a little too personal for us to be a part of.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± was all I said. ¡°Well, uhm¡­ Any clue what we should do as far as finding Rose?¡±

    ¡°She should still be on the boat,¡± Chrys said. ¡°Maybe we missed something above deck? There isn¡¯t anywhere she could be down here.¡±

    I agreed, and we decided to leave Conifer and Parsley alone. I glanced back and saw that Conifer was sobbing into Parsley¡¯s chest, while she held him tenderly. I¡¯m unsure of what I missed. I hope they¡¯re doing alright, wherever they are.

    When we came out above deck, we were greeted with deafening silence. The sort of silence that you wouldn¡¯t expect from what we had left behind. I was worried about Sage, and wanted to peak my head above the rails, but Chrys was already moving toward the captain¡¯s room and I knew I needed to stay with him just in case things got bad.

    I followed close behind him, crouched down with my arm under my nose from the cold. The sun was nearly out, but the early morning freeze was still very real and I didn¡¯t want to sneeze and give away my position. Sour could still be out there, after all. He was in the same league as Bitter for a reason, I figured.

    The door to the captain¡¯s room was wide open as the other doors had been. Evidently, Chrys was loud. Or maybe whomever was previously occupying the room had vacated it in favor of aiding in the war waging on the beach, I¡¯m unsure of the situation. Either way, we entered the room and saw that Rose was in fact there, untied and wandering around for some reason.

    ¡°Rose?¡±

    She looked like she was going to faint upon seeing me. ¡°Mint! Oh goodness, what are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°No time to explain, it¡¯s dangerous here; we have to go.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± she smirked. ¡°That¡¯s why I made my way up here. Things got too hectic down there, and they stopped looking after me. I decided I¡¯d commandeer the ship.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± I said. ¡°That was our idea. Come on, let¡¯s go grab everyone and get out of here.¡±

    ¡°Actually, would you mind bringing them here?¡± she laughed, airy and without a care. ¡°I¡¯ve hurt my ankle, you see, and walking down all those stairs would be difficult.¡±

    I checked and she was right. Her ankle was swollen and bruised a multitudinous amount of dark hues, a spectrum my eyes couldn¡¯t fathom in the night. ¡°Right,¡± I nodded, then turned to Chrys who was looking wary.

    ¡°Would you mind staying here and guarding her?¡± I asked him, just about out the door. He moved a paw to block my path and gave me a look.

    ¡°Mint, what do you mean? No one¡¯s here.¡±

    I felt my head reactively, in a subconscious attempt to reason why perhaps she was a figment of my mind, then when I came up short I walked over and grabbed for her hand, falling through her fading being and nearly twisting my own ankle in the process. Chrys came to my aid right away, asking if I was okay, which I was as far as physical abrasions were concerned. My sanity, however, was in question.

    ¡°I saw her here, Chrys,¡± I said, describing it. ¡°She was as real as you are. If you hadn¡¯t been here, I couldn¡¯t have told the difference. I never hit my head or anything that you know of, have I? There¡¯s nothing I need to know that I don¡¯t already?¡±

    Chrys did his best to frown and shook his head. ¡°As far as I¡¯m aware, we¡¯re up to speed and you¡¯re perfectly healthy. There must be some other reason for this. Best we not dwell on it and instead focus on finding her or choosing to get out of here.¡±

    I blinked at that. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t dally here long, Mint,¡± he said, grave. ¡°The longer we stay here, the easier it will be for us to get caught up in this battle and lose each other, maybe permanently. You need to decide now if this Rose girl is important enough for us to stay here.¡±

    Of course, Chrys was right. The longer we stuck around, the more easily Sour or Bitter could get us, and though I figured I was in no danger of losing my life, they certainly were. And even though I¡¯d live, I was sure my fate would be worse than any death that could be dealt to me. At the time, however, the very fact he would insinuate we could leave anyone behind seemed remiss, even lazy. I shook my head so fast the wind cooled down my hot, reddened cheeks.

    ¡°We must get her, Chrys. Leaving without her would not be something a king would do.¡±

    Chrys, still adamant, lowered his head and said, ¡°There are kings who lack such ideological benevolence in favor of using more logical retreats, enduring losses of necessary casualties only. Low stakes gambling compared to such a high stake game you wish to play.¡±

    Haughtily, I pushed his paw aside and said, ¡°High stakes game or not, Parsley will kill us if we leave her daughter here. We will look for her now, or else face the wrath of that virago.¡±

    ¡°Virago?¡± he asked, which made me laugh. For some reason, the thought that my beastly comrade was poorly read was funny to me. I still smile at the thought of him putting on a pair of glasses and reading by candlelight, having an earnest yet difficult time pronouncing foreign words or underused vernacular in his head and asking me for help. Oh what a wonderful, useless imagination I have.

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain another time, let¡¯s just go find Rose. She can¡¯t be far. I¡¯d imagine she might be on another boat, or maybe on the shore somewhere.¡±

    Leaving the captain¡¯s room, I started to say, ¡°You go let Parsley and Conifer know while I get off this boat and find another place to search,¡± but I thought better of it. Instead, I suggested he go search for Rose and I let them know what the plan is. Not only could I actually speak to them, but Chrys was in a better position as far as self defense went. He leapt off the boat in a jolt, and with one last look at him as he soared over the rails, I ran down the stairs and through the hall as swiftly as I could.

    Parsley and Conifer were still sitting together intimately, speaking of things, of what I know not. I think it was mostly just them discussing them, really. Love is complicated, and their relationship was certainly no exception. I knocked on the door panel to get their attention and they both jumped simultaneously at the noise.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I chuckled. ¡°Didn¡¯t know how to get your attention in a nicer, less intrusive way. Rose isn¡¯t here, so we¡¯re going to search for her elsewhere.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Conifer shrugged. ¡°Parsley and I will stay here then.¡±

    I was just about to object when Parsley did it for me, in much more vulgar fashion than I would have. I struggle to remember the words she said, but her face really told all. The candlelight caused shadows to dance on her face so ominously I should think Conifer felt all manner of demons were out to eat him. Ah, that¡¯s what she said! ¡°I will eat you and feed the bones to the fish, you cowardly, yellow, puss of a bard! Now we will go find my Rose or so help me I will cut off the only thing on you that sings sweet music, and I¡¯m not talking about your tongue!¡±

    And that was when I learned that you could be given a compliment and an insult in the very same sentence.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough you two!¡± I said with a smile. ¡°We have to get going now, and I¡¯ll leave you behind if you don¡¯t keep up.¡±

    ¡°Well you heard the prince!¡± she barked, and against his will Conifer came with us in search of Rose.

 Chapter Thirty-Three

    We were up the steps in a flash, forgoing stealth in favor of speed. By this point, I figured we¡¯d have been forgotten anyway. When we reached the deck, Conifer and Parsley stopped dead upon seeing the fire; by now, it seemed the whole island was engulfed in flames, a funeral pyre for both sides the likes of which no one expected, or at least I didn¡¯t. Solemnly, I slapped their shoulders and reminded them we needed to be fast.

    ¡°But, the island¡ª!¡± Conifer began, but I held a finger to my mouth and shook my head.

    ¡°We¡¯ll mourn later. Our time is short, and Rose is somewhere out there.¡±

    I moved toward the rail, those two trailing behind me with trepidation. The fire was bright; it was difficult to discern positive details in the sea of flame, and identifying the people I could see on the beach was impossible, all of them appearing as shades, dark figures of questionable intent and origin. Worry began to set in. Chrys wasn¡¯t on the beach, and I didn¡¯t see Sage, Bitter, even Sour¡ªif I did, I couldn¡¯t tell. My breathing sped up, and my head ballooned to weightlessness, nearly floating to the clouds before I felt a warm hand on both of my shoulders, firm yet concerned. I spun around in retaliation, accidently sending both Conifer and Parsley sprawling to the floor of the deck. They looked at me with wide eyes¡ªa gaze I returned, suddenly afraid.

    ¡°Mint?¡± Conifer asked, slowly.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Parsley echoed, her feelings more palpable. She made mine more real.

    I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to start. I don¡¯t see Chrys, Rose, anyone. Just shadows.¡± My lip quivered, and I nearly broke right there in front of them, the only thing holding back my own self pity being the loathing I felt for it. Why wasn¡¯t I strong enough to tackle this? Vastmire coursed through my veins, I thought. The very same stuff that made Sage so strong, Basil so strong, everyone so strong¡ªit lived within me. Yet there I was, frightened, scared; trapped. I couldn¡¯t back my words up. There was no way I could.

    Parsley, full of wisdom, the kind that comes from being a mother who lives much closer to the ground than mine had, saw all of this in me. Maybe she didn¡¯t know exactly how I felt. I never asked her. She just got up, walked over to me, and gave me a big hug, warm and full, and in my ear she said in a hushed tone, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mint. We¡¯ll get through this.¡±

    My breathing staggered, I shook tears from my eyes into her neck and shoulder. ¡°What if we don¡¯t?¡±

    She held me tighter and said, ¡°Failure can wait until after we¡¯ve already tried.¡±

    We stayed like that for a moment, breaking when we heard a loud boom of sonic force bursting forth from the flames. I jerked away, and to my surprise I saw that Sage was still alive. Even more surprisingly, he was doing well. Bitter had been sent skipping across the sand, each hit sending his body more and more into the form of a doll, limbs flopping lifelessly in the wind, with a crunching noise so loud even we could hear it from our vantage point. Sage was floating above him, the flames surrounding him but not touching him, appearing as something above life, someone more than mortal.

    ¡°Right,¡± I nodded to myself. ¡°Thank you, Parsley. You two should stay here, it doesn¡¯t look that safe down there.¡±

    ¡°Mint!¡± they both said in unison, but I was already in the air.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± I yelled up to them. The wind passing around me sent a rush of energy through me, and I suddenly felt an upswing in my mood and outlook that I knew I had to ride to succeed in this last leg of the fight.

    Landing in the sand, I looked around to see if there was any sign of where Chrys may have gone. Luck was with me; near where I landed, I saw big, beastly pawprints in the sand running off away from where Bitter had landed, towards something that I hadn¡¯t noticed in the distance, resting quietly below where the moon was descending beneath the sea. A small, but very real boat was off shore that way. I broke into a sprint and followed the trail, looking over my shoulder periodically to see that Sage was still alive.

    Up until this point, I had never seen Sage fight with such intensity, such vicious precision and brutal strength. Not even in fairy tales was strength such as his described. The possibilities of Vastmire excited me; sent fear in me; would I be like that, if I took on the orb he wished to present to me? Could I be someone like him?

    Maybe better?

    At the time, it seemed so obvious. Of course I would be better than Sage. I was smarter, it was a no brainer. And if his explanation of that orb was correct, I would naturally be stronger, another link in the chain.

    What would I do with that? Why, be a hero, naturally. I¡¯d save Longan from the evils that held it down, correct the wrongs done to my kingdom, and keep my family safe. It was unquestionable that I would be great. But being a young boy of fourteen meant I simply didn¡¯t care about the means, only the end. I had my whole life to take care of it, and the legend, of course, would write itself.

    It¡¯s hard to write that, honestly. Revisiting youthful idealism is probably difficult for everyone, but¡­ well, you¡¯ll see, won¡¯t you? Maybe you already know. After all, as unfortunate as it is for me to admit, my life is ancient history, to some degree public knowledge.

    I came upon the boat, unimpeded in my sprint by anyone but the sand itself, which made the trek difficult to do without falling. It wasn¡¯t nearly as big as the other one. In fact it was more of a rowboat like the ones the soldiers had used to reach shore, thin, fast vessels that were long and gathered speed in the water much more quickly than larger boats would. There was nowhere for anyone to hide in that boat.

    So when I saw that no one was there, my heart sank, and I had to do a lot to stay calm.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mint,¡± I said to myself, feeling crazy as I twirled in a circle, searching for some form of a clue or a sign that someone had been there. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mint, just think, just think,¡± I repeated, walking along the side of the boat before finally hopping in, searching the floor, beneath the seats, in the dark shadow cast by the flames, trying my damnedest to find someone who just wasn¡¯t there, the girl I swore I¡¯d find. A girl, I reminded myself, I could never show affection for. For I was a prince, and she was a regular, unassuming commoner, with a mother who cared. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Mint, focus.¡± I ceased the search on the boat, turning my attention to the beach. I saw then something which I hadn¡¯t noticed previously. The pawprints of Chrys had turned hard, away from the boat and into the flames.

    They followed new footprints.

    ¡°See?¡± I said, cackling to myself. ¡°Just focus, stay calm, and you¡¯ll bear fruit!¡±

    I made my way to the wall of fire, where I spent a moment trying to piece together a path through the flames that didn¡¯t involve burning to ashes. When I couldn¡¯t find one, I thought of a few things I could try. I could attempt to jump over the fire, using Vastmire, but that was still finicky at best. I had no clue how to harness Vastmire for fighting, let alone use it like that. So that was out. I could run through the fire, allowing myself to burn, but that was suicide. I could try covering myself in water beforehand, and I almost tried that, before shaking my head halfway to the water and saying, ¡°That¡¯s way too risky.¡± Eventually, I gave up thinking, and instead began calling out for Chrys and Rose.

    ¡°Chrys! Rose! Where are you?¡± I yelled. ¡°Are you in there at all!? We have to go!¡± I kept this up for about a minute, maybe longer, before Chrys burst forth from the flames, which surprised me so badly that I fell to the ground.

    ¡°Geeze, don¡¯t do that!¡± I shouted, brushing sand off of me. Then I saw he was still burning and I yelped, ¡°Ah! Are you alright?¡±

    Chrys shrugged, ¡°For the most part.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re on fire!¡±

    ¡°Hmph? Oh,¡± he said, dismissive. ¡°It¡¯s just my mane. The flowers are singed but otherwise they¡¯re fine. They grow back. Anyway, I found Rose.¡±

    I nearly jumped in triumph. ¡°Where is she?¡±

    Chrys jerked his head towards the flames. ¡°Not too far in. She¡¯s being held against her will, but she is physically fine.¡±

    Nodding, I asked, ¡°Alright. How many guards?¡±

    Baring his fangs in an angry lion scowl, he said, ¡°One. A man in a dark cloak has her in a deep sleep, and he waves his hands about as if he were weaving spells. Real magic, not Vastmiric enhancement.¡± He growled, turning it into a deep roar which shook my bones. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, Mint.¡±

    ¡°Neither do I,¡± I agreed. Magic was something I was aware of, and had read a decent amount about back at home, but never truly experienced. ¡°If she¡¯s asleep, and they¡¯re doing magic on her, they could be changing her at her core, or worse. We need to stop that spell before it ruins her head.¡±

    Chrys nodded and was about to jump back through the flames when I held up both hands and waved them around wildly. ¡°Wait-wait-wait-wait!¡±

    He stopped, still crouched. ¡°What is it? We go now, right?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t jump through the flames like that.¡±

    Chrys seemed to consider this for a moment, before nodding in assent. ¡°That does pose a problem.¡±

    ¡°Right, so how do we¡ªhey!¡± Chrys bit down on my cloak and tossed me onto his back, sending me into a tailspin that left me dizzy and confused.

    ¡°We haven''t got time to think,¡± he growled. ¡°Hold on tight, and don¡¯t yank any flowers from my mane, that hurts like hell.¡±

    And with that, before I could even try to object, we were flying through that blaze with immense speed, each flame we passed through licking us and making loud, almost satisfying, ¡°bwoosh,¡± sounds.

    Once we were free of the flames, I opened my eyes and checked us for fire. Miraculously, we were largely fine, the only flames on me being on the cape thing Conifer had given me, which I promptly tossed into the fire. It was too warm for the heat anyway. Instinctively, I checked my head to put my shirt back on but that was gone, lost somewhere along the way. Chrys checked that I was fine, and still riding atop him, we made our way towards the dark cloaked figure who held Rose captive. We passed by rubble, fallen trees, burning animals and flesh, all manner of destruction which I tried my best to keep my eyes from but couldn¡¯t out of morbid curiosity. The fire had very nearly destroyed everything on Mango. By the end of it, there would be nothing left.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Soon, after weaving through paths marked out by breaks in the flames, we found a surprisingly large circle, at the center of which was Rose and the man Chrys spoke of. He was tall, thin and wiry, with overly long, bony fingers covered in rings, wrists filled with bracelets which clanged metallically together in a jangly mess. The cloak he wore was full body, blacker than night and revealed nothing; he could have been death itself were he carrying his signature woven basket filled with souls he harvested. I was thankful not to see it; Rose still lived, her chest rising and falling so calmly you would think she were under the covers in a nice, warm bed.

    We stayed a moment on the outskirts, unsure of how to approach, when a voice emanated in our ears from all sides, as if it came from everywhere.

    Come forth, one who seeks the truth, one who fights with fate. There is no need to hide, the light of the flame burns too bright for me not to see you.

    If somehow I wasn¡¯t already sweating, I was much more aware of it than I was before. Chrys walked forward slowly, an air of dubiousness to the situation.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Chrys asked in a loud bark, so as to be heard above the crackle.

    The cloaked figure stood up to his full height, ceasing the moving and jangling of his hands. He was even taller than I had thought; we were eye level despite me being on top of Chrys, which would make him taller than Bitter.

    I am Sweet. What business have the two of you with I, the creator of the macabre, the illustrator of darkness, the ominous wind?

    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± I said, holding up a hand. ¡°You¡¯re Sweet?¡±

    There was a silence, before the being nodded. Yes.

    Stifling a snicker which would give way to laughter if I didn¡¯t control it, I asked, ¡°What the hell are the naming conventions for you guys?

    Sighing a sound that I may have mistaken for a far off cyclone, he said, This is the typical reaction. Well, I¡¯ll have you know we drew lots. Guess who drew the shortest?

    ¡°I¡¯m confused,¡± Chrys said, as I began chuckling heartily, giving way to a cough from sucking up the ash in the air. ¡°Why is his name funny?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain later,¡± I said, patting him affectionately. ¡°Anyway, anyway, let¡¯s get on with this.¡±

    Groaning, Sweet nodded. Yes, let¡¯s. I presume you want this girl? That¡¯s how these things seem to go.

    ¡°If you give her back to us without a fight, we¡¯d appreciate it,¡± I said, still coughing.

    Sweet held a hand to where his mouth might have been, his long fingers stroking rhythmically before he shook his head. I can¡¯t do that. They¡¯re still battling, and the line must remain in the water.

    ¡°Line?¡± I asked, looking at Chrys. He grunted, also confused. ¡°Explain.¡±

    I cannot say. How about we play a game?

    ¡°No, we haven¡¯t got time for that,¡± I said, getting annoyed. ¡°Just give us Rose and we¡¯ll go in peace.¡±

    Instead of replying, though, he began doing signs with his hands, weaving them around elegantly, entrancing us in this strange, ghastly movement. Then, in seconds, another Rose appeared, identical in every way to the first one. Then another, and another, and before long you couldn¡¯t step without stepping on a Rose of one kind or another.

    Choose. Choose correctly, and you will go in peace. But choose poorly, and you will find yourself locked away in a never ending dream, unable to achieve anything, but always feeling like your nearly there.

    Scoffing, I said, ¡°Well, that¡¯s easy. It¡¯s gotta be the one right in front of you.¡±

    Sweet made an angry gurgling noise.

    ¡°You drew the small lot in brains too, I take it?¡± Looking back on it, this was probably the first time I ever engaged in this sort of banter. It¡¯s not something I do because I think I¡¯m funny, it¡¯s more to help keep my nerves from exploding under pressure. It doesn¡¯t always work.

    Quiet, you! Fine, fine, it¡¯s too easy, right? How about this.

    And with a snap of his fingers, every Rose lifted in the air and spun wildly, a twister of them whooshing this way and that, before finally resting back on the ground.

    ¡°Shit,¡± I groaned.

    ¡°You should have kept your mouth shut,¡± Chrys growled.

    ¡°Shut up, it¡¯s fine. I can do this.¡± I looked at them all, trying my best to find some difference in them, a wrong pair of lips, discolored hair, misshapen feet, anything at all that might tip me off. As you can imagine, though, nothing was different from any of the Roses before me, all seeming identical like the one I had found on the ship was.

    Choose soon. I grow weary of this game.

    I made a noise I can¡¯t begin to spell, and Chrys growled at me. ¡°We waste time, Mint! Just get her and get out of here.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s easier said than done,¡± I shouted, angry.

    ¡°Watch me,¡± Chrys whispered, before leaping through the air and pouncing on Sweet, sending him hurtling on top of a Rose or two behind him. In midair I had an idea, and was ready to have Chrys drag Sweet around the circle until we bumped into the real Rose. I checked, they were solid; I felt my stomach flip. My hopes they were intangible were dashed.

    Fighting me will do nothing. Choose now or suffer.

    It might not be much of a secret, as I¡¯ve been told I make it pretty obvious, but perhaps it wasn¡¯t easy to gather through subtext: I hate magic. That shit turns my jam to jelly. Oh sure, Vastmire is similar on paper to magic, I¡¯m sure most of you think it¡¯s the same. But in practice? They couldn¡¯t be more different. Magic involves all sorts of promises, chanting, weird movements, odd dancing, and lots of demons. A serious amount of demons. More demons than you ever should associate with. Vastmire is just green power juice when you get down to it, a performance enhancer. No weird promises, no demons, and dancing is optional but typically useless. I understood it, or at least got the gist of it. Magic, though, is one of those things that even the practitioners who have written book after book on the proper herb to put in the dumb potion that makes succubi run rampant around virgin town¡ªeven they don¡¯t seem to really know what sort of power they¡¯re messing with. So the idea that some black robed maniac was threatening me with some power that even he didn¡¯t understand, well¡­ let¡¯s just say I wasn¡¯t thinking rationally. I wanted to get out of there.

    ¡°Chrys, you have full permission to kill Sweet while I try and think of something,¡± I said, hopping off of him.

    ¡°You sure? His spell probably won¡¯t go away even if he¡¯s dead.¡±

    Sweet chuckled hoarsely. Your beast friend is correct, boy. My spell will last, and it will finish if you don¡¯t choose soon.

    ¡°Either way, you¡¯ll be dead,¡± I said, as coldly as I could hope to say it under the circumstances. ¡°At least this way I can bide some time maybe, and even if I choose wrong you go down too. That¡¯s good enough for me.¡±

    Chrys, ever the partner, escorted Sweet through the flames and away from me so I could take a moment to think things through a little. Actually, it would be more accurate to say Chrys tossed his body through the fire, sending Sweet somersaulting wildly through the circle of flames, with Chrys leaping after him to do Altera know what.

    I looked frantically from body to body, Rose to Rose, trying to figure something out. No matter how fast I searched, how deeply I looked, she was still the same, no visible difference whatsoever. Moments began to pile up, and soon enough I was floundering for an answer, speaking in tongues ancient and forgotten, burned up in that early morning air.

    ¡°I just need a sign,¡± I eventually sputtered. ¡°Anything, just give me a hint, Rose¡ª!¡±

    The ground beneath us suddenly began quaking, sending me and every Rose vibrating wildly where we stood, or in her case lay. The cacophony of sound that ensued was tremendous, and it¡¯s a wonder I heard anything above the destruction laying waste around us, or the cries of battle echoing across the island like wailing ghosts. Over all of it, I heard a simple sound, which tipped me off to an idea.

    The groan of a sleepy Rose, stirring in her slumber. A groan, I might add, that was singular; the group didn¡¯t do so in unison.

    I turned to the source, and saw three suspects. There was no time to think, I had to get to work and figure it out. Kneeling down by the first, I slapped her face as hard as I could, shaking her vigorously¡ªof course, I did so with the intent to apologize soon after¡ªin hopes of waking her so I could see if it really was her and not some trick.

    The first one didn¡¯t make a noise after hefty abuse. Tossing her aside, I prayed desperately that she was not the right one and moved on to the next one, who I was rough with but not so much that I¡¯d feel bad after. She, too, remained silent under the constant stress I put her through, stress that would wake anyone.

    The third one had to be it. There was no other option, and I couldn¡¯t be sure Chrys was really capable of defeating Sweet. Magic, after all, was an unknown force.

    Though, if I¡¯m honest, so was Chrys.

    After a mighty slap that echoed in my ears, her mouth opened slightly, emitting the sweetest, most dulcet groan I think I¡¯ve ever heard in my life. That was all I really needed, I thought. We¡¯re going home. Were the stakes not so high, or the walls of fire so hot, I may have danced a jig.

    But I had to be absolutely sure it was her.

    ¡°Rose,¡± I shouted, fast and sharp. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    She nodded, said, ¡°Yes, but where are we?¡± She looked around, and I had to hold her down so she wouldn¡¯t groggily touch the flames.

    ¡°Hush, don¡¯t worry. I know it looks dangerous but trust me we have a way out. I just need to ask you a question to be sure you¡¯re the real Rose.¡±

    ¡°The real¡­ Oh!¡± she was confused, until I moved and let her see the sea of bodies we lay around. ¡°Well, of course I¡¯m the real Rose! What proof do you need?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t thought that far ahead, but a thought came to my mind and I went with it. ¡°Do you remember the night where I fought that large man, Bitter? The one where I got hurt pretty badly and you had to nurse me back to health?¡±

    She nodded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. ¡°Yes, I do. You and Conifer nearly made my mom die from fright!¡±

    That was the first test, and I smiled knowing she passed. I neglected mentioning Conifer to see if she¡¯d bring him up on her own. That was good, but I needed to be absolutely sure. ¡°Good, then do you remember the conversation we had that night?¡±

    Rose pulled tight to her tunic, looking like she was feeling very hot. ¡°Kind of, yes.¡±

    ¡°Say what you remember, please. We haven¡¯t got time.¡±

    She was about to protest, but I gave her a look and she thought better of it. Rubbing her head, she closed her eyes and started rattling off memories. ¡°Uhm¡­ Okay, I think we talked about Conifer, about how he thought of mother and I, yeah¡­ After that, you and I talked about what we wished we were, about how I thought being a prince seemed so great¡­ I think you told me to follow my dreams, or something to that effect. Then we had to go to sleep, I think?¡±

    It was vague, but accurate.

    ¡°Sweet!¡± I shouted, hoping he might hear me. A response was immediately in my ear, albeit more quiet and raspy, more pained than before.

    You¡¯ve chosen?

    ¡°I have. This Rose here is the correct one, the rest are fake.¡±

    This is your final choice?

    I could tell he was attempting to rattle me, but I nodded even though he couldn¡¯t see me. ¡°Yes, this is Rose.¡± And she shared a smile with me, wary yet hopeful, and ready to leave. I couldn¡¯t blame her. I¡¯m sure I looked the same.

    You may leave then, young Mint. But be warned; those who fight further fight forever. It is not wise to do what isn¡¯t right for you for long.

    ¡°Shut up, you spell-weaving bastard.¡± I whistled, leading Rose towards the path we had taken to get there. ¡°Chrys, we¡¯re out of here!¡±

    Turning behind me, I saw Chrys fly out of the fire and I couldn¡¯t help but smirk. ¡°You don¡¯t get tired of doing that, do you?¡± I asked him as Rose and I hopped on to him.

    ¡°Would you?¡± he asked, shaking the remains of the flowers in his mane free.

    Behind us, the Roses on the ground withered away, decaying rapidly before bursting into ashes, indicating they may have been made of the ashes created from the fire storm. After that, I never looked back; that sight was eerie enough for me. Now all that mattered was getting free of the place, and hopefully finding Sage and Basil to come with us if we had the time. But Sweet still got one last word in before we made it free of that place.

    I may weave spells, but I do not lie. The path you walk is a path of dread. You will lose everything you love, Prince Mint. And I fear you may never love again.

 Chapter Thirty-Four

    Short aside before I continue, but we are nearly done the first volume of my tale, and I must say this will be the most difficult part for me to recall. I will try not to compromise this last, most important segment of the story, but truth be told I could easily divide this part up into ten more chapters and still have more to say. That would probably be self indulgent, however; all the same, I¡¯ve sat and pondered the mistakes made at the end of this night more times than I care to count. I¡¯ve lost more sleep from this next series of moments more than any other. And it would be safe to say that this, out of every event, was the most defining of my life. It may not be the most well known, most courageous, or even the most important from a historical perspective. But that¡¯s not what I¡¯m saying here, this wasn¡¯t some shift of political power, or some demon hellbent on some prehistoric revenge on beings who had nothing to do with its drama in the first place. Like I¡¯ve said plenty of times in this memoir, this is far from a fairy tale¡ªthough fairies may be important at times. This is the tale of a boy who became a man in the worst of times, the story of me and all my faults.

    And dammit, it was all my fault.

    We rushed through the blaze, back towards the beach, wasting no time. Chrys was going so fast that Rose had to hold on tight to me to make sure she didn¡¯t fall off, which I didn¡¯t mind but wasn¡¯t prepared to fully enjoy.

    ¡°Did you kill Sweet?¡± I asked Chrys, awkwardly as my body moved this way and that on his back.

    ¡°You heard him speak, right?¡± he scoffed. ¡°That bastard was too slippery for me; I could barely keep up with him and his little disappearing act.¡±

    Worried and unwilling to believe it, I clarified, ¡°So he¡¯s still behind us?¡±

    Chrys nodded. ¡°He¡¯s still behind us. Whether or not he¡¯ll follow us remains to be seen, but we should operate under the assumption that he is on the island. The way he spoke indicates he¡¯s probably finished with us though, for the time being at least.¡±

    Not exactly reassuring, but I chose to believe those words. They would at least help keep me focused on the most important thing, and that was getting out of there safely.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing fine, Rose?¡± I would check in with her, each time we plowed through some rubble, or leapt over some fire¡ªChrys only went through the fire when he absolutely had to with Rose on his back.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she¡¯d assure me, her voice all over the place.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to be alright, okay?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm,¡± she¡¯d nod. ¡°I know.¡±

    I don¡¯t know if that pattern of words really helped either of us, but I said it numerous times before we got back to the beach.

    When we did, it felt like all the noise in the world had disappeared and left us alone in utter silence; the sun was rising, but it wasn¡¯t bright enough to alleviate the island of the dark shadow cast on it; the world was still, but my body wasn¡¯t. I was a disturbance, the invisible eyes of the world on me in that moment, and a part of me wanted to slink away underneath some foliage, hidden away from that nonconsensual gaze.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Sage?¡± I asked no one in particular, twisting my head to see.

    ¡°Probably back by the boat,¡± Chrys grumbled, then bolted that way at top speed.

    However, even there the beach was devoid of life, and we took a second to decide what we should do.

    ¡°We should just go, Mint,¡± Chrys said. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to stay here.¡±

    I frowned, mulling it over in my head. Rose, on the other hand, was extremely against the idea.

    ¡°How can you even suggest that?¡± she yelled. ¡°I figured you would be less cold hearted, Chrys!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only trying to do what¡¯s best,¡± he said, narrowing his eyes. I felt his neck twitch uncomfortably; he was genuinely hurt by the accusation.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s very noble of you,¡± Rose sneered, shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m going to go find Sage, and see if I can save anyone else while I¡¯m at it.¡±

    I hopped off Chrys and ran in front of her to stop her. ¡°Whoa, hey don¡¯t be so rash, Rose!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not being rash. You two are being stupid.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re just trying to survive!¡±

    ¡°And is that what Sage would do?¡± she asked, getting in my now very pale face. ¡°Is that what he would want from you? To run away with your tail between your legs? Proverbial and literal, in the beast¡¯s case.¡±

    We just stood there, confused by this outburst. She¡¯d never been so open before, at least not in this impassioned way.

    ¡°Well, if you two are just going to stand there, I¡¯ll be off,¡± she snapped, then turned with a violent flip of her hair and began walking towards the flames. Chrys and I looked at each other, not really sure how to approach this.

    ¡°Should I just grab her and drag her on the boat?¡± Chrys whispered to me.

    ¡°No! No, we don¡¯t want her to hate us,¡± I scolded him. ¡°Come on now, we can solve this in a much better way.¡±

    ¡°What do you suggest?¡±

    ¡°Well, let me just tell her that her mom¡¯s waiting and we should go to keep her safe? We stay any longer and her mom is in danger, right?¡±

    Chrys shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll care about that right now, but go ahead and try.¡±

    ¡°Just watch me,¡± I smirked, not confident but portraying myself so.

    ¡°Rose!¡± I yelled, waiting for her to turn around. She didn¡¯t. ¡°Rose!¡± She still just kept walking. ¡°Come on, Rose! We can talk this out!¡± Still kept walking. I turned to Chrys, who was pacing worriedly behind us, waiting to step in. ¡°Urgh,¡± I groaned. ¡°Rose, your mother is waiting on the boat for all of us! Conifer is there too. If we don¡¯t leave now, then you might be able to save those other people, sure. But the people we actually care about are on this boat, so come with us, please. I¡¯m begging you.¡±

    Finally, she stopped. Turning slowly and stiffly, she stomped back over to us and I heaved a sigh of relief. ¡°Thank goodness,¡± I said. ¡°Your mother will be very happy to see you, Rose. Come on, let¡¯s¡ª¡±

    I was cut off by a slap that cut the wind in half. Writing about it makes my cheek itch. Maybe I was hit by stronger opponents, but no one had ever hit me where it hurt like that before.

    ¡°You disgust me,¡± was all she said, low and vicious, before stomping away as she had before, ready to walk through the flames and save everyone.

    Chrys stretched his body out like a sleepy house cat while I nursed my wounded pride. ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want me to just grab her myself? Your words seem to have only made her more confident in her plans.¡±

    Frowning, I shook my head and sat in the sand, feeling very defeated. I risked my life and wasted my time trying my best to save her from one of those ridiculous Flavor Knights, and what did I get for bringing her family back together? Sailing off into the sunrise? No, just a slap to the face and a flurry of jabs to my pride.

    ¡°Mint.¡± Chrys said, trying to get me out of my funk.

    I remained sitting, however, honestly considering what I should do. I couldn¡¯t possibly go on the same boat as her mother. She¡¯d just kill me. Conifer was sickening to look at as it was, and my failure would just help make his own failures seem alright to himself, and I didn¡¯t want that. So, for the very first time in a long time, I considered the idea of running away with absolutely no one.

    ¡°Mint?¡±

    I could return to Persea, maybe. If I did that, though, I¡¯d probably just get tossed aside like a busted toy. No, it might be better to go elsewhere. Where, though? I knew so little about the world. I figured I could go off to Durian, and live in a small hut. No one lived there except Arsene, and it seemed like his life was quaint. I could use some peace and quiet reading time.

    ¡°Mint!?¡±

    Or maybe I could just sail until I hit land, I thought. I could roam the Tamarind in search of my own adventures, slay unworthy men and ravish beautiful women! They¡¯d sing songs of me, better ones than the old bastard Conifer could ever sing of me! That would be something now, wouldn¡¯t it?

    ¡°Mint, listen to me!¡±

    I looked up and saw that the flames had disappeared. Not gone out naturally, mind you; seconds earlier they were raging higher than ever, and now they were gone. Everything was gone; the boat we were going to use had vanished; the trees and rubble were all gone, no roots or twigs in sight; the fortress was even gone, replaced only by empty space. The island itself seemed to be smaller, and it was shrinking more and more until it was maybe a hundred steps in diameter, with nothing but sand surrounded on all sides by water.

    ¡°What in the name of Altera¡­?¡±

    ¡°I think,¡± Chrys growled, ¡°that this is the work of Sweet.¡±

    I should have realized before. After all, Sweet was still alive and well, and there was no real explanation for the happenings we were seeing. Honestly, we should have realized the moment Rose understood and communicated with Chrys.

    We were suddenly left with a new dilemma: how were we going to escape this dream world?

    ¡°Any ideas on how to get out of here?¡± I asked Chrys. He just shook his head.

    ¡°There really isn¡¯t anything around us,¡± I muttered, taking inventory of what we knew. ¡°And we¡¯re probably seeing things.¡±

    ¡°Obviously,¡± Chrys growled, bumping me and nearly sending me to the ground.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Well,¡± I concluded, rubbing at a headache that was getting stronger by the second, ¡°When we saved Rose she was asleep and under his spell, right? We had to solve his riddle. But since we are the ones like this, we have to rely on others, right? They can solve the riddle for us and we will wake up?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Chrys spat. ¡°But I don¡¯t think so. I know what must be done.¡±

    Before I could ask what he meant, Chrys was backing up and crouching in a way I had seen a couple times before, only usually he wasn¡¯t facing me when he did it.

    ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± I asked in the middle of his pounce, more to myself than him. I didn¡¯t expect an answer. I had already gotten it.

    So, in the interest of self preservation, I went for the dagger I had, and in a flash my mind remembered Chrys wasn¡¯t an enemy so I left it in its sheath and balled my fist up, ready to hit Chrys and dodge at the same time.

    By the time I had formulated this plan, Chrys had knocked the wind out of me and sent me dragging across the sand ten or so steps away. I remember wanting to get up and fight back, yell at him and hit him and all sorts of nasty stuff.

    Unfortunately, and I don¡¯t mean this at all to be cryptic or anything¡ªI¡¯m not in the business of embellishing, I¡¯m here trying to relay my story as truthfully and honestly as I possibly can¡ªbut things become blurry, hazy, and unreasonable at this point. An explanation would be in order, and in time I learn more and figure things out better, but to keep things in chronological order, you will feel the same level of confusion I felt, though perhaps with a little more frustration.

    And that¡¯s okay; life is frustrating, after all. That¡¯s why I need to write it out. To make sense of it all.

    Back to where I was. Chrys pounced on me, I was sent to the ground, and then I think he started following up with his attack. The thing is, like I said, it gets hazy, and I do mean that visibly. First my vision failed, then my hearing, then my sense of touch, and I¡¯d assume taste and scent but there wasn¡¯t much of that going on at the time so I don¡¯t recall losing them. Once they were all completely gone, I was essentially nonexistent. I was aware of this state of nonexistence, and I knew it wasn¡¯t what I needed at the time. I also knew it was extremely comfortable; it¡¯s easy to fit in when everything is nothing. Unfortunately, the thought that I had unfinished business was too much, and for a long time I believed that it was sheer will power that brought me back from that plane.

    Next thing I recall is waking up on the beach, right where I had fallen, only this time everyone was there again. The corpses of the fallen surrounded me sporadically, and the sun wasn¡¯t up at all; it was dark, even darker than it was when the battle had started. Pulling my body up, I searched the sky and found the moon to be at its apex, bright and orange.

    Then my attention was immediately pulled back to what was the very end of Bitter and Sage¡¯s battle, which presumably had been going on. Had it been a full day since then? How long had I been out?

    Bitter and Sage both looked equally worse for wear; Bitter¡¯s clothes were nearly torn to shreds, essentially standing there naked and broken, covered in all manner of dents, cuts, bruises, and a noticeably large chunk of his left calf was missing, exposing the muscle that should have been covered in anything but sand; Sage¡¯s armor was busted open in so many places that it would be difficult to call it armor, his cape torn and tattered in a romantic way, looking more and more like some timeless hero statue come to life¡ªa term I use loosely, mind you, for he was at the very end of his wick; he could burn no brighter.

    And for some reason, I thought, I was only ten steps away from them.

    ¡°Mint?¡± Sage whispered through bloodied lips. ¡°What are you doing here? I thought I told you to get out of here!¡±

    Did he?

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Bitter coughed, bright red now coating his fist. ¡°Get out of here now, otherwise this was all for nought!¡±

    Wait, what?

    Groggily, I just nodded and turned around to go to the boat. In that instant, I felt a chill on my shoulder, spreading throughout my body and stealing all sense of safety. I turned to find the culprit and was greeted with none other than¡ª

    ¡°Sour¡­!¡± Sage hissed.

    ¡°Sour! I told you I had this handled,¡± Bitter roared.

    And perhaps I even eked out a, ¡°Sour?¡± myself, so quiet even I couldn¡¯t hear it. From the moment I had awoken from that strange world, that dreamscape, I felt as if I were subdued, locked away and unable to react, only to perceive.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to interfere with your battle,¡± Sour said, sounding very tired through his helm. ¡°The island has been upturned, and soon we will need to be scarce. I¡¯m just finishing my part of the mission, which I¡¯m sure you recall we are on together. Or have you forgotten in your lust for battle, you overgrown battleaxe?¡±

    Bitter laughed slightly before coughing more. ¡°Don¡¯t make me laugh! It hurts.¡± Composing himself, he nodded his assent. ¡°Fine, go ahead and take him. But be sure to keep him safe.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Sour said, his icy hand gripping my shoulder even tighter. He carried me off, my mind shouting at me to kick, to scream, to do absolutely anything. Where was Chrys? He¡¯d save me if he were here. What happened to him? What about Basil? Was he even alive? Where was Rose? I couldn¡¯t see her, or hear her scream. I placed all my effort in turning my head, and I saw the boat wasn¡¯t there, replaced instead by the rowboats that took the soldiers to land.

    That moment, of us walking away, seemed to last forever. The clearest thing I recall is my immeasurable desire to scream, a desire which only grew stronger and stronger until I reached my breaking point, and I was never the same.

    I turned with an effort, still walking away under Sour¡¯s complete subjugation, as I watched Sage and Bitter stagger toward each other with fists raised high, ready to finish their battle the only way those two could. They were just about to clash when I saw a dark shadow behind Sage, small and lithe. There was a flash of steel. It all happened so fast that I think Sage would have had trouble reacting if he was in perfect condition. At that stage in his night, after all that he had done and the amount of energy he¡¯d given, he could have been stabbed in the back by anyone.

    The action filled me with malice; raw, unfiltered.

    The person filled me with an old, familiar rage. Seeing them made me blame myself¡ªwhether I¡¯m right to do that is something I¡¯m unsure of, even now.

    Sage¡¯s eyes widened, dark blood spilled openly from his neck and mouth, he crumpled beneath the weight of the boy on him, and before he hit the ground I whipped my arms free from Sour, who I elbowed so hard he flew out of existence, in a nameless direction. And with all the power I could possibly muster¡ªfor I was fully awakened to the Vastmire, the seal on my stomach crashing open like a dam holding hellfire at bay¡ªI roared at the top of my lungs, ¡°Sumac! I¡¯m going to kill you!¡±

    I leapt across the gap, covering a distance I can¡¯t even describe, and before Sage had bounced in the sand I had my dagger out and swung it at Sumac. He bent backwards, dodging the majority of the arc, but getting cut on his chest. My eyes widened, tears flowing freely as I tried to follow up, but he was fast and ran away. But not before smiling at me, haunting me forever after.

    It would have been smart to follow him and kill him, but the sudden surge of Vastmire in my body was more than I could handle. My skin was forming cuts, and Vastmire was oozing from them in bursts like volcanic eruptions. Blinded by power, rage, and a desire to kill, I turned to Bitter and in a flash I cut the back of his neck and threw him to the ground.

    After that, things begin blurring together. I ran around the island for what seemed like hours, searching for Sumac but never finding him. I killed everyone I met. I¡¯m not sure I spared allied soldiers. I wasn¡¯t myself.

    ¡°Sage!¡± I would scream. ¡°Sage!¡±

    No one would come. I was alone, isolated among the rubble and the dying flames, my mind an incoherent mess, my heart ready to burst and end it all for me. Sun had risen and set before I finally was able to sit down and really analyze what had happened, and even then I use the term analyze loosely; I wept.

    ???????????????

    Time passed. If you were to ask how long, I wouldn¡¯t know. Less than a day would make the most sense, but I could be wrong. After all, time was appearing to me in strange increments by this point, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve seen.

    The sun had set, that much I know. I had spent my time searching for bodies I was familiar with, sifting through the dead, scouring for the living, coming up short. Flashbacks to Clementine filled my head, and I was wishing that Neres or even Chrys were there with me. Somehow in the heat of it all, everyone had disappeared. At least, everyone I cared about.

    Except, of course, Sage.

    I found him where he had fallen, alone. Corpses of the opposing army were gone; apparently they had been taken by their comrades The mantle he¡¯d worn above his armor was inexplicably gone, pulled from him after the battle. Red sand surrounded him, and it looked like all the color from him had faded, even the green hue of his armor rusting brown from excessive bleeding. He was beaten, absolutely. Until I saw it with my own eyes, I couldn¡¯t believe it. There he lay, though. There he lay.

    For a while I stood above him, unable to get myself to pick him up and find a spot to bury him, no one keeping me company beside the wind. I hadn¡¯t buried anyone else, and it was going to take a long time to get everyone put down.

    Before I could even get started, I felt a presence behind me and whipped around to see Chrys was standing there, waiting for me.

    Instead of greeting him properly, I warily asked him, ¡°How am I sure you¡¯re real?¡±

    Chrys just stood there, looking unsure of how to answer. ¡°I could ask the same of you,¡± he eventually replied. ¡°Where have you been? I¡¯ve been looking for you everywhere.¡±

    Narrowing my eyes, I asked, ¡°What¡¯s the last thing you remember?¡±

    ¡°You and Rose were having a fight about whether we should stay or not,¡± he recalled. ¡°Then everything started disappearing, getting smaller. We weren¡¯t sure how to get out, and you attacked me.¡±

    ¡°Actually you attacked me.¡±

    We both raised an eyebrow simultaneously, both equally confused.

    ¡°After that,¡± he continued, slower, ¡°we saw Sage get murdered. Chaos hit the island and everyone was everywhere, and I couldn¡¯t find you. Then everyone packed up and left, taking their people with them. I wandered around until now.¡±

    The stand off had gone in a direction I hadn¡¯t expected. For the better, I might add; my situation wasn¡¯t exactly great, and a fight with anyone would have resulted in my loss, possibly my death.

    I moved to walk forward and fell face first in the sand. Chrys ran over to check on me. Instead of moving I chose instead to lay still. I was done with everything.

    Chrys, ever vigilant, remained by my side, despite the precipitous spot our relationship seemed to be in. Even then, he stuck by me.

    Soon, we were interrupted by the clamor of an approaching crowd. With a tremendous effort, I sat up to see who had come. Chrys was also standing, looking just as reserved as I was.

    There were ten of them, two obvious leaders standing in front. They all wore an odd assortment of clothes, as if each piece were taken from a different time and place, none of it matching in this strange kaleidoscopic mix of colors which clashed and matched in the strangest of ways. The two men in front were big, brawny, and not the brightest looking men I¡¯d ever seen. My condition was too poor, however. I couldn¡¯t afford to fight them.

    ¡°Hello,¡± I croaked out, my throat as dry as the sand I stood on. They didn¡¯t reply, so I kept going. ¡°You guys lost? The battle¡¯s already over.¡±

    The man to the left was chewing something obnoxiously, and after a second of sizing me up he was grinning like an idiot and I desperately wanted to demolish his face. ¡°So you¡¯re still alive, eh? Well ain¡¯t that something, brother?¡±

    The other man nodded. ¡°Interesting. Who are you, boy?¡±

    Unsure of what to say, I said, ¡°My name is Basil, warrior of Avocado.¡±

    They all laughed then, a cacophony that might have made me blush if I cared.

    ¡°What a load of shit,¡± the chewing man said, shaking his head. ¡°You expect us to believe that lie? Come on, everyone knows that Cashew took over that country, what, a month or so ago? There are no warriors of Avocado now. And if there were, they wouldn¡¯t be little ten year olds like yourself.¡±

    His brother then noticed something, and walked over to me to size me up further. I knew I was in trouble just by the look in his eyes; a merchant¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°What is it?¡± the chewer asked, indolent and bored.

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± the man tapped his chin, nodding to himself. That¡¯s when I went to attack him. He was close enough that I could go for a full force punch right into his stomach and send him away, then run off.

    At least, I could do that if I weren¡¯t so beat.

    What instead happened was I fell into him, fist first, before falling to the ground in a heap. I heard Chrys growl and run to my aid, then a noise that resulted in Chrys yelping in pain¡ªa sound I had never heard in my life. I remember gasping, not sure what was happening. My wrists and ankles were tied up and I was hoisted onto the man¡¯s shoulders.

    ¡°Brother,¡± the chewing man snapped, obviously confused. ¡°What are you doing? We¡¯re here for loot, not little boys! Unless he¡¯s got some jewelry on him just bury him!¡±

    A wicked smile formed on my captor¡¯s face. ¡°This is no boy,¡± he said, the sound of his mouth watering sending shivers down my spine. ¡°This is the prince of a dead kingdom, worth his weight in gold!¡±

    And that was the end of my days as a prince, and the beginning of my days as something more sinister. I was tossed onto their boat, and with one last look at the island where Sage died, I was off to sea in silence and pain, once again kidnapped.

 Epilogue

    It¡¯s the middle of autumn today. The elder trees we planted outside are an exquisite color already, a ripe assortment of reds and yellows accompanied by the sweet air that makes me think of fresh pies and blueberry cordial. You¡¯re wearing the dress I bought you in the market eight or so seasons ago, the one the color of everblues. We¡¯re old, but when you wear that all I see is that cute girl I knew as a young boy, the girl filled with vibrancy who helped keep my head from dismantling itself. Even now you pressure me to do this task, this dreadful activity. Writing is far from relaxing. I need a break.

    I hope that you read this though.

    Maybe I¡¯m just stalling, unwilling to write the next portion of the story. You know why, I¡¯m sure¡ªyou¡¯re in it, after all. Lucky for you, you don¡¯t know what was going on in my head in those days. Would you still love me if you knew?

    Maybe you shouldn¡¯t read this.

    Lately, I¡¯ve been returning to this memory of us, and I wonder if you remember as well. It was when we first moved in to this castle. I was still healing up, walking around with a cane, appearing much older than I was, and you asked me to accompany you on a walk. I told you I wasn¡¯t ready for something like that, that my leg wouldn¡¯t be able to handle it. Yet you insisted, and you lead me out of our home and outside to show me a nest that was in a tree. In that nest were eggs, and with your impeccable timing we got to witness three little chicks burst forth. Do you remember what color they were? They were different shades of green. One was light green like grass in the summer sun. Another was the dark green shade of leaves at night. The last one you should definitely remember; it was mint green. You thought it was some kind of sign, and I called you superstitious. We laughed, returned inside, and spent the remainder of the day relaxing together, catching up on lost time.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    I¡¯ve been thinking about it because despite what I said, ever since we saw those chicks hatch my life has been nothing but better. You taught me how to conquer my sins, and replace them with good memories, and I¡¯ll never be able to thank you enough.

    Even so, I still have trouble. That memory is good, but I can¡¯t help but wonder why those chicks left so soon. They weren¡¯t ready; I wasn¡¯t ready.

    I¡¯ll resume writing after the winter solstice. This first part was therapeutic, albeit difficult, but this next part is going to be the most difficult by far. I made my best and worst mistakes during that part of my life. You know which you are.

    Thank you for pushing me to write this. I love you with all my heart.

    Peppermint Avocado,

    The Last Moss Knight