ã€ŠA Time Where We Existed Togetherã€‹


 Prologue - Letter 49

    Prologue - Letter 49

    A woman laid in a grand bed, it¡¯s size is probably two times the size of the biggest bed you can imagine, the room is decorated with only the finest materials and items, all of these expensive things would surely make anyone happy, but not the woman. Her face is practically the definition of sadness, and despite being in such a huge bed, made with the most expensive and comfortable material, she seems out of place, and uncomfortable.

    A couple knocks on her door snapped her out of her miserable trance.

    ¡°M-miss Angela!¡± A man''s nervous voice called out to her from the other side of the door.

    ¡°Yes Hippie?¡± The woman responded to the voice on the other side of the door, she''s now sat upright on the bed and looking towards the door.

    ¡°A-another l-letter came in from the b-boy!¡± He said struggling to control his stutter as he spoke.

    The woman clutched her dress and she smiled in anticipation and excitement, a total 180 compared to her earlier expression.

    ¡°Slide it under the door please, Hippie!¡± The woman yelled out in excitement as she sprung out of the bed.

    ¡°Y-yes ma¡¯am, w-with p-pleasure!¡± The man stuttered.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    It takes a second and the woman waited at the door practically dancing as she waited as she tapped her feet unable to contain her excitement. Finally the letter slipped under the door and the man¡¯s hurried footsteps could be heard walking away from the door down the long hallway on the other side.

    She grabbed the letter quickly and before she ripped the letter on accident she took a deep breath to calm herself. Her pale hands gently unfolded the paper and she read the contents of the letter.

    ~

    Letter 49,

    March 4th XXXX

    To: Angela Swain

    I¡¯ve been thinking about you, even now in this time of conflict. I wonder if it is my everlasting infatuation for you, or my stubbornness that keeps me thinking about you, let alone writing these letters to you. But I still do, I still plan on sending this letter out into the void that you have presented to me. Do you get these? Do you read them? Do you even care? I guess in our time apart I have grown slightly bitter towards your silence, but I know you would not ignore me without good reason. I just wish I knew that reason.

    I am sure you know that they are talking about The War ending soon, we might be winning, I am not sure of it. That young man I wrote to you about a few months ago, Paul, passed on a few weeks ago, an artillery shell. With things like that happening, still we are being told about an end in sight, I am sure you can understand my pessimism. No? I am still uninjured though, this has presented me with a sort of¡­ Guilt? I am not sure, but I feel like people are looking at me with disdain. With all this death happening around us, I feel like they are angry at me for being well (physically), and I feel the same. Since Paul, I have not really made any more friends, and in that time I have been thinking more about you, and when I do I can feel the cool breeze across my face, I can hear the trees and bush in the wind, for those moments the screams are drowned out, and I feel apart from this hell.

    How are you? Wherever you are, I cannot know without you telling me, so I am sorry if I ramble along about myself too much, old friend. I still hope to God that you read these, even 10 years since we have spoken, and I hope in 10 years you are still reading them. Even if you are happy and with a family, and I am dead and buried, I hope you still read and cherish these letters to you, My best friend in the entire world, Angy.

    From Your Friend, Zee.

    ~

    Tears started to dampen the pages, and the woman let out a small whimper, trying to stay silent.

    ¡°Zee¡­¡± The woman shakily said under her breath.

 Chapter 1 - Old Crook

    Chapter 1 - Old Crook

    ¡°Zee!¡± The commanding voice of my manager snaps me out of my trance, ¡°Time to clock out! Go home before you become an old crook.¡± He lets out a cackling laugh at his own words as he grabs his coat from the coat stand.

    ¡°Yes sir.¡± I say and stand up from my cubicle. The Manager squints at me, as if he is perplexed by my response to his orders, ¡°Zee, you know that regular people don¡¯t fall in line as easily as you do?¡± he says to me.

    ¡°Well, sir I don¡¯t see the reason in saying no to such a simple order.¡± I say plainly, the manager scoffs at me, ¡°That¡¯s the military in you talking! Geez the way they recruited you boys so young, and now they expect y¡¯all to be regular folk.¡± the manager pauses as he looks at me again, a slight hint of surprise in his eye, ¡°Well, it looks like you have not one problem falling into line, bless your heart Zebedee, bless your heart.¡± He says as he makes his exit out of the door, his footsteps are still audible in the hall, clacking away until he exits through the main door.

    The thought of staying a few more hours off the clock doesn¡¯t seem like such a bad idea, and my chair looks as if it is calling to me, for me to sit down and continue working, after all I have always been taught to keep working, even when I am exhausted.

    I let out an audible sigh, ¡°No I shouldn¡¯t.¡± I say aloud.

    Rain starts to hit the window as I make my way out of the office room, and the sound of the storm outside only gets louder as I walk the halls to the front door, to the point I can hardly hear my own footsteps. Since rain was not in the forecast I didn¡¯t bring an umbrella, even more reason to stay, but I was given orders, so I should follow them. I grip the door knob, thunder booming outside, I feel so tired, but I have to run my way home today due to my lack of an umbrella. More than my exhaustion, I am a little bummed out that I won¡¯t be able to enjoy the rainy city scenery.

    I open the front door, heavy rain pours over the city, the slightly outdated streets puddle in some areas, and the crowds of people are in a rush trying to find shelter from the storm. A few people carry umbrellas and are taking their time getting home, how envious.

    ¡°Booze! All you can drink booze!¡± A man is yelling on the side of the street, he points toward a hole in the wall style establishment, with a neon light sign that reads the name ¡°Andy¡¯s Rum House¡± an odd name in reality.

    Before I know it I am walking instead of running, admiring the neon lights that cast a variety of different colored glows on the wet sidewalks and streets, all with one purpose, to get people to walk in and piss their money away on booze. And within the variety of identical bars that line the streets, there are people talking, laughing, and just being loud. In contrast with the outside world which is dark and gloomy, these neon signs act like gates into other worlds, small ones, where you can be someone else with a whole bunch of other people acting as someone else. Walking past all these different worlds provides different people with different feelings.

    As a kid I was curious, I looked into every shop, at the faces, what they were eating, drinking, and I tried to understand the jokes they made that made them all burst out laughing. It was as a child that I started to believe that these bars were entrances into other worlds, especially in contrast to the regularly gloomy Capital City.

    ¡°What did the leper say to the prostitute?¡± A man with a raspy voice says loudly in one of the bars. A crowd of people are shouting, trying to figure out the punchline before the man can say it himself, to no avail. The man smiles drunkenly, ¡°Keep the tip.¡± The whole bar erupts in laughter, and so does the man, proud of his joke landing.

    I can¡¯t help but scoff at such a joke, it is the fault of jokes like those that these days these other worlds only serve me as background noise, these shops I never plan to step foot in exist in reality, but they are about as real as any other temporary pleasure, the curiosity of my childhood is gone, the jokes they tell are all shallow, dirty and easy to get, people guzzle beer and wine all night, and the food are simply side dishes to compliment their alcohol. These other worlds are simply one aspect of my nightly walks to my apartment, though they have a certain ambiance on rainy nights like tonight.

    All the noise, laughter, and the red and blue lights soon disappear as if they never existed in the first place as I get into the residential area of the city containing all the apartment buildings, homes and hotels, at this point I start to run slightly, there¡¯s no reason to get any more soaked than I already am, especially in this bland area.

    Within the residential areas it is hit or miss, some days you¡¯ll only hear the sounds of the night. You know? Owls, bugs chirping, the light wind, and on nights like this, the sounds of rain showering the trees and ground. On other nights you¡¯ll hear people, they could be arguing or having a good time; it could even sound like both at times. On those nights I wrestle with the thought in my mind, the thought that says I am creeping on these people, that I should block out the sounds of ¡°their world¡±, because I exist in a completely different one.

    The world I exist in is new and dreadful, it leaks out into all the other worlds in the form of blood curdling screams at night, with spontaneous public freakouts, acts of needless violence with no explanation. This is the world of the returned, the men like myself who made it out of The War, for some reason we brought all of it back with us, whether it was intentional, or if it just seeped so far into our skin and bones that it became impossible to wash off; the reason isn¡¯t clear, but it doesn''t matter. For all the outworldly aspects of this ¡°new world¡± we brought back with us, there are a thousand more aspects that only us, the citizens of this world, experience fully.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    A screech bounces between the building''s walls, only drowned out slightly by the raging storm. These kinds of screams happen from time to time, an old or young vet having night terrors, or a panic attack.

    ¡°Shut up you crazy old man!¡± a voice yells out of a newly opened window. Such a statement is indiscriminate, but it disregards the fact that the scream may have come from a man younger than himself. Such absurdity causes me to let out a laugh.

    ¡°The fuck are you laughin about? What, are you a bum?¡± The man shouts at me now.

    ¡°No no, sorry sir.¡± I say while giggling still, I start running at a faster pace to escape this situation.

    ¡°Yeah you better run!¡± I hear the man shout, among other things as his voice gets drowned out by the roaring storm, before I am too far away I hear another screech, clearly from another person. Two in one day doesn¡¯t happen often. The second scream results in a few lights being turned on in the houses on the street.

    My nightly walks home as a result of all these factors always become needlessly complicated, at least in my mind. But this only lasts for the 10 minutes it takes to get home. When I enter my home, that being a small studio apartment, gracefully issued to me by our government, I am greeted with a string, the string hangs from the ceiling, and when I pull it light beams throughout the doorway and room, in the form of a nearly spent, dim bulb, conspicuously screwed into the ceiling. The contraption appears needlessly complicated, for the miniscule task it performs.

    Every time I walk through my door the first thing I do is grab a can of beer, and today is no different; I open the small fridge and grab one can of the many in the fridge. The words ¡°Free Throw Beer¡± sprawled on the front of the can.

    ¡°Eccacia¡¯s finest.¡± I say out loud, laughing at my own statement, because this is the cheapest beer you can get in the entire world, even the slum countries up north can get a can just like this for anything worth the dead skin that clogs an air filter.

    This is the only thing in my routine that never changes, no matter what. Every time I crack open the can I can''t help myself from smirking ever so slightly. The first gulp feels like pouring acid down my throat, but it is always the biggest gulp, and the pain is a form of satisfaction that can only be felt after another long day at work, no matter the job. This daily routine has become so integral to my life that I bought a fridge specifically for this reason, and I put the fridge at the entrance of my apartment.

    With half the can of beer empty, I finally slip my shoes off and slip another can into my pocket, the condensation on the can wets my thigh through my pants. The only light in my whole apartment is the one at the door, but it is enough to provide me with a path to my couch, which also acts as my bed. I stumble over to my throne, grabbing the TV remote on the way, and when I finally crash down onto the soft cushion I can feel my body loosen up.

    ¡°Finally.¡± I say while letting out a long exhale, as if I were holding my breath all day.

    There is nothing like relaxing on the couch after a long day at work. It allows my mind to run free, even more so than the walk home. What did I achieve today? Who did I talk to? Was today fun? I ask myself all sorts of questions, and I answer them wholeheartedly.

    ¡°Nothing. No one. No.¡± I say aloud.

    I usually have the same thing to say about every other day, and that sounds terrible, but those kinds of things don''t matter when the days I live only serve me so I can live the next day in the same fashion. Over and over again. But I do get tired of saying ¡°No¡± all the time. I am not clueless to my pessimism, or my self-destructive way of life. I mean, I have a fridge full of beer at the entrance of my apartment and it¡¯s the only thing I look forward to all day. That kind of life where we live day by day, where we are counting every single day subconsciously, where the small things, self destructive or not, are what we look forward to beyond all else¡­ It''s the kind of life me and people like me, the people scarred by war, are forced to live, borrowed time they call it

    I let out a long sigh, ¡°What am I even thinking about¡­¡± I say as I click the red power button on the TV remote.

    There are more important things to worry about, like what will I eat tonight, or what''s on TV today? Will it be another ¡°Memorial for the ones we lost¡± in a beautiful font, with sad music playing as they spout bullshit about a 30 second moment of silence, as if that somehow pays off the debt this country owes the dead. Will it be the royal family making a speech about our freedom? In their high castles? After their grand balls and daily feasts? They preach to us, the people, and the soldiers about the freedom that we paid for.

    ¡°Breaking News huh¡­¡± I say repeating the words on the screen

    A woman reporter appears on the screen, ¡°Youngest Princess, The Illegitimate Angela, who rarely made any public appearances, has been reported missing¡­¡± the woman reporter says.

    My eyes widened slightly. ¡°Huh, a princess? I thought that was just a rumor. Princess Angela?¡±

    Before the war ended there was news that circulated throughout the country and later our camps that a girl was discovered to be an illegitimate child of King Harold, that small tidbit of information was all we heard about this supposed princess. This caused most of us to think it was just a rumor, that coupled with the fact that news like this simply isn''t broadcast often, due to it being a ¡°scandal¡± I assume the royal family silenced the people who reported on it after it broke, as they do with everyone else that aren¡¯t kissing their boots. Either way it¡¯s not like there aren''t already a few of them, this kind of news is not what''s most important when we don¡¯t even know if we will be alive tomorrow.

    ¡°For those of you who aren¡¯t aware of what the Princess looks like, please look at this photo.¡± The woman reporter says with an attitude, as if she is referring to us who don¡¯t know as gleefully ignorant. I scoff, ¡°How the hell are we supposed to know, lady?¡± At that moment the image on the TV changes.

    The TV program displayed an image of a young woman, her hair is jet black and her bangs go down to her brow, her eyes are a deep blue and her lashes are long, and her skin a kind of pale I thought only achievable through malnutrition, but her cheeks are full and slightly chubby in contrast to her skinny figure, by all accounts this woman is the embodiment of beauty.

    Something catches my eye, something familiar about this girl. I get up to my feet and almost trip on a can as I sprint to the TV screen. On the Princesses cheek is a scar, it looked jagged like whatever cut her in the past was not something sharp and clean, almost completely covered by makeup, that''s why it was so hard to see it at first.

    ¡°That looks just like the one Angy had.¡± I mutter.

    ¡°Just months before the ¡®Madly in Love Couple¡¯, that being the Youngest Princess and Prince Dane of Artenia, were to be wed on the Isles of Arden. ¡± The woman reporter says. ¡°Whether she was taken or is on the run is unknown at the moment.¡±

    ¡°M-married?¡± I stutter

    For some reason I felt an urge to shut off the TV, and did so, leaving me in silence. Even though I wasn¡¯t doing anything I started to feel sweat start to form on my scalp, and I felt as if I was out of breath. This feeling isn¡¯t new, it is the same feeling I felt when the Brigadier General would announce the soldiers killed in action, and I would hear the name of a friend. But why do I feel this now? The princess surely isn¡¯t her. The princess cannot be MY Angela.

 Chapter 2 - Angela

    Chapter 2 - Angela

    Angela, or known to me as Angy, the name of an old friend of mine, who I spent my time writing to when I was in the military. Before that, we spent every hour of every day together. We played with each other and went to each other''s houses. She was about four years my elder, but that didn¡¯t get in the way of us being friends. Things remained that way until I was 12, when probably the most significant point of our friendship happened, and that''s when she suddenly disappeared. By that I mean literally, one day she was taken by some people and was just gone, never to be seen again. I went to her doorstep and all that was left for me was a note with an address, and a simple goodbye. I asked her father where she went but he wouldn¡¯t tell me. All he would say is ¡°She¡¯s gone.¡± and ¡°She probably won¡¯t be back.¡±, statements that left me with no hope of her return.

    Soon after that I was drafted into the military into a program called ¡°Early Deployment¡±, which put kids like me into classrooms to learn about war, and trained us to be elite soldiers. Despite being in a classroom a lot of the time, we were still considered ¡°military personnel¡± and had to do physical training with the grown ups. No matter what, the moment we were 16, we were sent off to war, thoroughly brainwashed, believing we were fighting for a grand cause against the ¡°Evil South¡±. This meant that we would say goodbye to our older friends often, and eventually to our younger ones too. During my years in training I wrote letters to Angy, and I sent them to the address she left me, not really knowing if she received them.

    I still continued to send her her letters periodically after entering the war, we definitely didn¡¯t have an influx of spare paper, or time, so I wrote only 49 total letters to her including the ones I sent during training. Things continued that way until The War ended, I sent her my 49th letter when we were put on hold amidst peace talks. Then I came home, where I have been placed into housing and a job by the government.

    ~

    Seeing this Princess Angela on TV has no doubt shaken me up. In the military we just heard of a princess, no image or name was ever associated with her. She does look just like Angy, from her black hair, to her blue eyes, and even that scar she was always so self conscious of, it''s all the same. But how can that be right? A princess? Beyond that, if she is Angy then where has she gone now? My mind continued to race with these questions, all without any definite answers. I have begun to realize just how clueless about the world I really am, all I have is my childhood and then The War, and that''s it, that''s all I have experienced, all I know.

    With no end in sight to these questions, I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my mind. Taking two steps backwards and sitting back down on the couch, I look up to the ceiling.

    ¡°Angy huh¡­?¡± I say resolutely, yet still questioning my reality.

    I feel my consciousness fading, the adrenaline dump from all this stress seems to have hit me hard. Before I fall into unconsciousness I think one thing.

    ¡°Aw man, I still have some beer left¡­¡± I thought as I fell unconscious.

    ¡­

    *BANG*

    A loud noise pries my eyes open as I shoot up immediately. My eyes dart around the room to find the source of the loud noise, sweat begins to pour over my face and into my eyes, causing my eyes to sting and forcing me to blink repeatedly. Nothing, there is nothing in my room that could have caused that. I rolled off the couch, confused and still dazed.

    *SMASH*

    Another noise fills my ears. Glass? There is no mistaking it, the noise came from the street outside. I crawl to my window and crack it open without peeking outside.

    ¡°Ya damn fool!¡± A scratchy voice says in a whisper-like shout. My eyes squint in confusion, I haven¡¯t ever heard this voice before.

    ¡°S-s-sorry bro I¡¯s n-nervous!¡± Another voice stutters loudly.

    ¡°Shut. The. Fuck. Up!¡± The voice of the first man is now in a full shout, ¡°What are you crazy?! Are you trying to wake one of these God forsaken psychos up?!¡± He shouts, referring to us who have just recently returned from war.

    ¡°S-sorry bro I¡¯s really am!¡± The second man''s voice says, still in a shout.

    ¡°Oh my God are ya kidding me?! You¡¯s kidding me!¡± The first man yells as a smacking sound echoes through the streets.

    ¡°Y-Yeowch!¡± The second man exclaims.

    As soon as the second man was seemingly slapped, hurried footsteps approached where those two men were standing.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Eppie, apologize to Hippie!¡± A woman''s voice exclaims, her voice exerting a strength that the first man''s voice lacks, sending a shiver down my spine.

    ¡°Miss I¡¯s gets ya concern for my¡¯s dumbass brother, I¡¯s really do, but his fuck ups are gonna end up¡­ well¡­ fuckin us. Heh.¡± The man Eppie seems to chuckle at his phrasing.

    I glance over at the clock sitting amongst a graveyard of smashed beer cans. The numbers on the clock read ¡°12:04 am¡±. I scratch my head in frustration ¡°Only 2 hours¡­ really?¡± I say quietly. At this point it is more frustrating that some weirdos who have no sense of time are waking me up at three in the morning. I begin to rise slowly, and as I finally get a glimpse of the people I only heard up until now I stop, now only peeking out of the window.

    ¡°Stop with that language, Eppie, this is no joke.¡± The woman shouts, now visible to me. ¡°Now apologize.¡± The woman stares Eppie down.

    My eyes widen, dark hair, blue eyes, even the scar, in full view! The woman standing outside of my window is without a doubt the missing Princess Angela! She is wearing commoners clothing, my guess is she is in disguise. This would mean she was not taken, but she ran away. I still am unsure on whether or not this princess is MY Angy, but in contrast to the self conscious girl that left our village 10 years ago, this woman stood tall, and I don¡¯t just mean figuratively, she towered over the two men. If I were to guess I would place her at just under 6 feet, maybe even surpassing it. Such a big change makes the inclination of her being Angy slightly sink into my doubtful heart, but people change, and Angy may have gone through a massive change.

    ¡°M-m-miss Angela I¡¯s sorry! Tis all m-my¡¯s f-fault!¡± The man Hippie stutters his way through an apology.

    ¡°Ya dumbass! Why¡¯s ya screamin her name out in the open!¡± Eppie yells.

    The man, Hippie is a lanky man, Eppie in comparison to his apparent brother, is almost a complete sphere. They look similar, kind of¡­ cartoonish? Even their outfits are similar, raggedy tuxedos, with Eppie¡¯s jacket unbuttoned fully. Their noses protrude about 4 inches off their faces, and their eyes are naturally squinted under their brows, which also protrude a couple inches off their face, and their skin looks slightly gray and inhuman. They look entirely bizarre to say the least.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Princess Angela shouts, ¡°This foolishness is getting us nowhere. We must make haste, Dane is awaiting our arrival.¡± The princess says, and they begin to rush into an alleyway.

    ¡°Dane? As in Prince Dane of Artenia? Is he in on this? The hell is going on?¡± I ask myself in utter confusion.

    Prince Dane is the man that Princess Angela is supposed to marry, but this situation is not making any sense. Prince Dane is from Artenia, the country we were at war with all this time. The two of them were probably gonna be wed as a way to express peace between our countries¡­ So why? Why are they running away? Together¡­ they are running away together¡­?

    Before I could stop myself I suddenly opened the window entirely and jumped out into the open street. I ran full sprint into the alley that the three of them disappeared into, only to find absolutely nothing. I ran further into the alley. My gaze darts around into all the other suballeys, no sign of her. Soon I am just running, without looking, with thoughts racing in my mind. The thoughts are saying ¡°Why is MY friend running away from ME?¡±, and I know this is wrong, this might not even be Angy, and even if it is, she probably forgot about me long ago.

    ¡°Hurry up ya fool!¡± The familiar voice of Eppie erupts from a suballey that I ran past. I stop in my tracks and sneak to the corner and peek into the suballey.

    ¡°Ahh, I-I haven¡¯t ever been s-so glad to hear such a-a terrible voice.¡± I say in a whisper and chuckle as I try to catch my breath.

    *shuffle*

    I hear a slight noise behind me, ¡°That so?¡± a voice says in my ear.

    I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I jolt upwards, and before I can even turn I am struck on the head. Instantly my vision is dazed, and I crash to the floor.

    ¡°Dane!¡± Angela yells, her voice muffled and barely piercing through my ringing eardrums.

    ¡°What¡¯s up Lovely, can¡¯t see that someone''s tailin ya?¡± The man who seems to be Dane says in a smug tone.

    Through the haziness I look up at the man who struck me, it is most definitely Dane, The Prince of Artenia, I can tell that much even through the haze.

    Dane is a tall man, much taller than me. He has messy black hair, but it is messy in an intentional way that makes him look dashing to your average fangirl. His eyes are ice blue, with a gaze that peers into your soul and digs out your greatest insecurities. He is muscular and his legs are the brunt of his height. He is virtually the guy of any girl''s dreams, aside from his smug jackass personality. I had seen him on the battlefield once, where he charged into warfare, right at the front, with his battalion at his back.

    ~

    On a particular day, near the end of the war, we had just got done with a bloody advance, only to gain a miniscule 200 yards of ground. We were all exhausted, I was among a small number of men who were not injured. I was tending to a friend, Paul, who was shot in the knee, and suddenly all I heard was screaming and explosions. I peeked over the trench only to see The Artenian fucking Military back for another round. Before I knew it we were overrun, the soldiers laughed as they held us at gunpoint, they looked at us like we were cattle, ripe for butchering. Then I heard a voice yelling about taking prisoners, ridiculing the soldiers aiming at us for wanting to kill us, I looked towards the voice only to see the damn Prince of Artenia, Dane. We locked eyes for a moment, and suddenly, almost instantaneously I am blasted about 50 feet in one direction.

    With my ears ringing and dust in my eyes I sprawled all over, trying to find somewhere, anywhere to hide, and when I did I rubbed the dirt from my eyes. A mess of body parts and I mean it, arms, legs, fucking torsos just strewn all throughout my surroundings. I was slightly relieved to be free from the grasp of the Artenian soldiers but that relief didn¡¯t last long. I looked right beside me at something I grasped hold of in all the panic, and it was a head, one belonging to Paul, my friend.

    I didn¡¯t see Dane after that artillery shell hit us, and it turns out that the artillery shell belonged to us, and Paul had died from friendly fire. Though none of our dead comrades were ever officially killed by friendly fire in the records, I know that it must¡¯ve happened many times before, only to be buried, and any whistleblowers were silenced before they can even get to someone to tell their story.

    ~

    My vision drastically declines, though delayed I am certainly on my way to sleep. The four of them speak to each other in semi-loud voices, but the ringing in my ears grows louder and I am unable to tell what they are saying.

    ¡°Angy¡­¡± I mutter, unable to see and unable to hear. A commotion is happening, but it is too hard to tell for sure.

    ¡°W-wait!¡± I can make out a woman''s voice shouting now. ¡°Is that you?!¡± she shouts again, as my vision clears up for a moment.

    ¡°Zee?!¡± The voice becoming more clear, it calls my name, I can now tell it belongs to Princess Angela. Her voice now resembles that of a young girl, a voice I remember. My eyes widened.

    At the exclamation of my name I can make out the image of Princess Angela being pulled away by the three men. I weakly reach out my arm, almost entirely sure now. My strength wanes as my vision starts to go again.

    ¡°Is that you¡­?¡± I mutter with the last of my strength, as I sink entirely into the void.

 Chapter 3 - A First Meeting

    Chapter 3 - A First Meeting

    ¡°Zebedee!¡± The familiar voice of a girl called my name, but all I see is darkness.

    ¡°Zebedee! Wake up!¡± The girl yelled.

    I slowly opened my eyes, only for the sunlight to pour into them instantly, causing me to roll sideways and rub my eyes. When my eyes got somewhat used to the sunlight I squinted towards the direction the voice came from. The realization comes fast, as I see who is calling out to me, Angy, a younger version, from the time we first met when she was 12 and I was 8. The realization that I am dreaming comes quickly. It feels as if I am simply watching an old memory on a big cinema screen.

    ¡°Angela from two houses down?¡± I said while I continued rubbing my eyes, ¡°What are you doing here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Your mom told me to come find you!¡± Angy giggled with an open smile, revealing a missing tooth.

    ¡°Mom? What does she want?¡± I said in an annoyed tone. ¡°And why is she sending some random kid to find me?¡±

    I never got along with my mom, even before I got drafted into the military I didn¡¯t like her much, but to be honest, I didn¡¯t like anyone besides Angy really.

    ¡°Mmm, I dunno?¡± Angy said while touching one finger to her chin.

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to ask so you can tell me, dumb kid.¡± I said as I lay back down, Angy seemed offended by my remark.

    ¡°Hey! Why would you call me names?! And I am totally older than you too!¡± Angy shouted at me in a higher pitched whine.

    This version of Angy is the one I am used to, childish, easily offended by my snarky way of speaking, and utterly clueless to the whims and reasons of other people.

    I looked at her face, even being the child I was, I could tell she was holding back tears. I looked towards the ground.

    ¡°Alright, sorry A-¡± I stopped in my tracks as I looked towards Angy, only to see tears start streaming down her face.

    ¡°H-hey?! Whattaya cryin for?!¡± I said, even though I had a feeling she was just a sensitive person, The thought of an older girl crying because of my childish insult bewildered me.

    At the time I didn¡¯t know how to comfort someone, and honestly I didn¡¯t even get why she had cried, I didn¡¯t feel like I was wrong in anything that I said. I simply thought she was being sensitive. So I did nothing, I just watched her desperately rub the tears from her eyes as they kept flowing. The memory of the day we first talked stems from her crying, and me doing nothing. After that, I did everything in my power to make Angy happy. For 4 years I did just that, up until she was gone without a trace

    ¡­

    Darkness fills my vision, but as I start to regain my consciousness I can see the bright sun piercing my eyelids and causing a reddish yellow glow to fill my vision. At the same time I can feel something poking my cheek, something sharp, but not like a knife, as it only causes my cheek to itch. And in an instant all the memories from last night fill my mind.

    ¡°Angy!¡± I scream as I remember the events that happened before I went unconscious.

    ¡°Wah!¡± A voice screams to my left.

    Almost instantly my tunnel vision towards the thought Angy is broken, my gaze shifts to my left in the direction of the scream. Only a few inches from my face is a random girl, she looks strikingly similar to Angy, the same black hair and blue eyes, she looks young in comparison though. She¡¯s looking at me with a shocked expression, only now do I realize how close we are.

    I rise to my feet and look towards the end of the alley way, clearing my throat in the process, ¡°H-hello.¡± I say trying to brush past the awkwardness.

    In response the girls once shocked face, now looking up at me, bears a more confused look, as if she is analyzing my appearance. Before I can say anything else to break the silence, she begins to talk.

    ¡°Are you from here?¡± The girl asks.

    ¡°Am I from here?¡± I ask in response.

    ¡°The capital¡­¡± she clarifies with a twinge of suspicion. I squint at her, she seems suspicious of me for some reason.

    ¡°I¡¯m from the outskirts.¡± I say plainly.

    ¡°The outskirts? As in?¡± She asks.

    I click my tongue, ¡°Hey Lady?¡± I say and she stares at me with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. For some reason the urge to be snarky and annoying burns deep within my heart.

    ¡°Wouldn''t you like to know, you creep.¡± I groan and turn away, ready to walk away.

    ¡°Hey!¡± She grabs my shoulder, I turn back to see her face, red and twisted in anger, ¡°Do you have any idea who I am?¡± She says in a shaky voice.

    I scoff at her, ¡°Huh? Why would I care who some homeless bum is?¡± I say as I get more agitated at her audacity and also ramping up my own purposefully obnoxious way of speaking .

    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± She says with a furious smile on her face.

    I pause, she seems like she is trying her hardest to not assault me with words or even worse her hands, but the urge to push her buttons burns strong within me.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ You bum.¡±, I say, my only goal being to make her even more mad.

    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± She goes into a blind rage, she starts to swing at me with her fists, but since she isn¡¯t even looking at me while swinging she is missing every punch. Without much effort I caught her arms.

    ¡°Calm the hell down lady! You¡¯re not even landing any hits on me!¡± I shout as she tries to break free from my grip.

    Suddenly she grabs hold of my shirt and pulls me towards her. Is she pulling me in for a hug? Such a weird girl, I guess this is how people here apologize for being ignorant bastards, I close my eyes and get ready for a loving embrace, but I feel my stomach drop.

    *Smash*

    What¡¯s that noise and what is this pain in my back, I open my eyes only to see the sky. The pain only gets worse as I try to get up from the floor.

    ¡°A-ah owwww.¡± I groan in pain.

    Looking to my right all I see is the girl turned facing sideways from me, she has a smug look on her face as she lets out giggles from her dumb mouth.

    ¡°Y-you psycho, who do you think you are throwing people on the floor over words?!¡± I say while attempting to raise my voice but it just comes out strained.

    ¡°Oh, Who am I?¡± The girl says with a sparkle in her eye, ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked commoner!¡± She shouts, her voice echoing throughout the alleyway.

    ¡°It is I! The youngest princess of Eccacia! Princess Aloe!¡± She says, her voice brimming with confidence.

    Silence fills the air after her proclamation. Looking at her it is clear she believes in herself, a smug look you only see on the face of royals is plastered all over hers, awaiting my response.

    I am silent for a few seconds, ¡°¡­ Bull.¡± I say while stumbling to my feet.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Suddenly, right as I was able to get back to my feet, I am looking at the sky again as my back slams onto the ground.

    ¡°A-ahhhhh owwwww¡± I groaned loudly in pain. ¡°W-what the hell lady?¡± I say while squirming on the floor.

    ¡°W-what do you mean bull? You don¡¯t believe me, y-you commoner?!¡± Her voice shakes as she shows no remorse for absolutely demolishing my spine for no reason.

    ¡°You expect me to believe you? AH!¡± I scream as I move and pain jolts up my spine. ¡°There¡¯s already a youngest princess you idiot!¡± I scoff in between my groans of pain.

    ¡°You¡¯re talking about that old bag?¡± A glint of rage in her eyes. ¡°We have different moms so she¡¯s the youngest in her bloodline, and I am the youngest in the bloodline of the current king and queen. Also I am younger than her by a few years, so I am the youngest!¡± She explains, clearly annoyed at the notion of anyone besides herself being the youngest.

    ¡°H-heh, just the kind of convoluted bloodline bullshit I expect from the royal family. O-owww.¡± I groan as I try and fail to get up. I am now on my knees frozen in pain. ¡°S-seriously you might have paralyzed me!¡± I yell.

    ¡°Do you hate the royal family?¡± She questions me.

    I instantly know my answer, but before I answer I look up at her, her face no longer the smug look of a royal, but it is as if she is genuinely asking me a question. At the same time her resemblance to Angy becomes clear to me, and the answer that was clear to me just a second ago doesn¡¯t seem so clear to me anymore.

    ¡°Y-yes.¡± I say, even noticing the clear unsureness in my voice. The look on Aloe¡¯s face changes, she has a doubtful look on her face, clearly doubting my answer, and without words is demanding a real answer from me.

    ¡°Well, There¡¯s someone who I don¡¯t hate, I think.¡± I say, unsure of my own feelings.

    ¡°Who?¡± She asks but it seems more like she is trying to get me to say it, not like she¡¯s asking a question.

    I take a second to answer ¡°Princess Angela.¡± I say. A look of interest now on the face of Aloe.

    ¡°Excuse me¡­¡± Aloe stops for a second, as if she is making sure I am looking at her before she continues, and I do, ¡°Are you Zee?¡± She asks me.

    I imagine the look on my face was enough confirmation to her, as questions raced through my mind. How does she know my name? My nickname at that. Is it from the war? No way, I was a complete nobody in the war, my only Medal of Honor was the fact that I remained unharmed almost the whole time.

    ¡°H-how do you know me?¡± I ask, completely unsure of what kind of answer I¡¯ll get.

    ¡°So you are... Zee huh?¡± She goes silent, she is clearly thinking about something, leaving me in the dark about whatever it is.

    ¡°Seriously, how do you know me?¡± I ask her, the urgency growing in my voice. She smiles.

    ¡°Even if you are happy and with a family, and I am dead and buried¡­¡± She giggles.

    ¡°W-wait! How do you know that?!¡± I exclaim loudly.

    She continues her mocking recitation of my letter, ¡°I hope you still read and cherish these letters to you, My Beloved Angy.¡± She is practically dying laughing at this point.

    ¡°Seriously I was wondering who it was sending all those lovey dovey letters to that hag! I guess it makes sense why you were out here passed out!¡± She says while catching her breath.

    ¡°So she was reading them all along.¡± I mutter under my breath.

    My eyes are downcast, the shame of having my letters read by someone else hits me hard. I rise to my feet, ignoring the pain that is still there.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You gettin a little shy?¡± She follows me, her voice sounding as if she has a smug grin on her face.

    Even if she tried to speak to me at this moment I feel like any word spoken and any sound from the outside world are drowned out by the images playing in my mind. Images of Angy reading my letters and throwing them aside, some of her laughing at my letters, it feels as if now I know how she felt about the letters. I didn¡¯t know all this time that she was even getting them, but now I know she was, and now I know she never cared to write back. Was everything I held onto a lie? Was I simply wrong about our friendship? These questions keep running in my mind, it feels like they all have culminated into one single, glaring, and unfortunate question. Should I have even tried so hard to survive all these years?

    Suddenly I feel a stinging pain in my cheek, and my head is jerked in one direction.

    ¡°Hey! I don¡¯t care even if you are getting shy, but don¡¯t ignore me!¡± Aloe says, her tone suddenly matching the commanding tone that Angy had last night.

    Without speaking to her I continue trying to walk away, before I can even take a few steps she grabs my shoulder and yanks me, turning me to face her. She looks angry, but suddenly her expression changes, she looks shocked.

    ¡°Why are you crying? Did my slap hurt that bad?¡± She says, more puzzled than anything.

    At that moment her resemblance to Angela suddenly became so obvious. The deep blue eyes, the same exact ones that I fell for and that I could spend every hour of the day and every second of my existence staring into, just to know for certain that they are looking right back at me. Her silky, jet black hair, Aloe¡¯s is shorter than Angela¡¯s but the color is nothing I have seen besides from Angela, seeing it makes me remember the last time I had seen Angela as a child, when she was getting pulled into a car, I was shouting but she never looked back at me, all I ever got to see was her hair blowing in the wind on an otherwise, beautiful day. Aloe¡¯s resemblance to Angela would seem uncanny to anyone that doesn¡¯t know their relation, which is unlikely considering they are princesses of the royal family, and I must be the only man in the world that didn¡¯t know who these people are, at least publicly.

    ¡°You look a lot like her. I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t see it right away¡­¡± I say as my emotions start to get the better of me. Before I even realized it I wasn¡¯t just holding in a couple tears, but the entire culmination of my life after Angela left, it wasn¡¯t just tears, it was everything ever. And when I realized that, I lost my hold on it all.

    I can see the expression on Aloe¡¯s face constantly shifting between confusion and pity, and without any care in where I am, I cried aloud.

    ¡°Ah jeez, saying I look like her really pisses me off.¡± Aloe says as she lets out a sigh and takes my hand.

    She drags me along, and looking at her back her stature suddenly becomes clear to me. I hadn¡¯t paid any attention to it before but she is not even comparable to Angela in height, while Angela is almost my height, Aloe is clearly short, and while Angela stands tall and has broad shoulders, Aloe lacks these qualities, sometimes referred to as leader qualities. It¡¯s like the facial features are the only things that they share, while they are polar opposites in everything else.

    I let her drag me along for a few minutes, completely unsure of where she was taking me. Soon we were walking the crowded streets of Downtown Capital City, and surprisingly Aloe was not getting stopped by anybody. I looked around and people definitely recognized her, but nobody approached us, they all had the same uneasy looks on their faces. In my rumination I had stopped shedding tears but I also had stopped in my tracks, Aloe stopped as well.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong now?¡± Aloe says in an annoyed but concerned tone. I was taken aback due to her tone hinting that she isn¡¯t just some snotty, preppy brat, and that she might actually have care for a commoner like me.

    Before I can answer a man comes bursting out of a building.

    ¡°You! You royal fucking scum!¡± The man screams at the top of his lungs as he charges across the street, directly at us. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you all!¡± He yells.

    ¡°Crap! This again!¡± Aloe shoves me away and takes a fighting stance.

    This is clearly an outburst, at least that''s what they have been calling it since we have been back from The War. People going crazy for one reason or another, or for no reason at all. The sight of a royal is more than enough to set any vet off, they sent us off to war and threw us into bloody battles while they had big breakfasts every morning, and while they bathed in golden tubs, we bathed in blood, both from friends and our enemy. And I understand that anger, I just never went crazy over it, especially not over a princess who was simply born into such a unagreeable, fucking waste of space, monarch family.

    The man still sprinting, gets a step away from Aloe as she throws a kick, he suddenly stops in his tracks, seeming fully aware of his surroundings, he ducks under her kick clumsily aimed right at his head. He grabs her, one leg hanging over his shoulder and the other struggling to keep balance on the floor, and he kicks her leg and throws her onto the floor, he rushes in quickly getting in a dominant position sitting on her abdomen. Aloe struggles to get the weight of a full grown man, and not only that, a trained fighter off of her. He throws a punch with all of his force right at her nose, as his fist connects to her nose a cracking sound echoes throughout the now silent street and her head bounces off the pavement. This kind of strike would take out a skilled fighter, and kill the average person, but Aloe, with blood running down her face, continues to struggle and claw at the neck of man, unable to reach his face.

    ¡°You royals bleed the same as us! Why did we have to bleed FOR you and your fucking throne!¡± The man who fights as if he is not completely crazy, talks as if his mind is completely gone, his voice cracking and fluctuating in force.

    Aloe mutters something under her breath, but it is inaudible to anyone, ¡°What did you say?¡± The man asks as he starts to gasp for air, his physical exertion catching up with him.

    ¡°Fuck you! Commoner!¡± Aloe yells.

    The crowd of people watching this unfold all gasp loudly, and I for one stand there in the front row seats, my mouth completely gaped wide open. Saying something like that just screams tone deaf, why she would egg the crazy guy on is beyond me.

    The man lets out a cry in frustration, and also in affirmation, as if this is the exact response he expected from a royal. He raises his fist to strike her again, and Aloe covers her face with her forearms, completely aware of the damage he can do with a punch now. The man goes in for the punch and before I know it, my foot is buried into his jaw. He lands a couple feet back and is in a daze. The crowd once completely focused on Aloe, then on the man, is now fully focused on me.

    ¡°Hey about time you help!¡± Aloe shouts while coughing.

    The man stumbles to his feet, his eyes clearly aren¡¯t there anymore, and he grabs his jaw as it starts to swell up. He first looks at Aloe as the fog in his eye clears, then he looks at me, and his eyes widen in recognition.

    ¡°You?¡± He says as he points at me and fills me with confusion.

    ¡°Me?¡± I say in a confused tone.

    ¡°Private Levin!?¡± The man shouts

    Suddenly the urge to stand and salute fills my mind, as the familiar way I was referred to by my fellow soldiers in war is said once again. I look clearly at the man for the first time. His bald head is not one I am familiar with.

    Before I can even think more, the man speaks, ¡°You are the lucky bastard, the one who never got shot!¡± he shouts.

    ¡°What? You¡¯ve never been shot? Were you even in the military, what a dweeb!¡± Aloe says while laughing a nasally laugh due to her dumb nose being clogged with blood.

    ¡°I swear you could breathe and it would annoy me. Shut the fuck up lady!¡± I shout at Aloe who is still on the floor.

    ¡°Watch out you idiot!¡± Aloe screams.

    Before I can react to Aloe¡¯s warning my vision in my left eye goes completely white and I am sent flying backwards. As I fall to the ground the pain in my face is excruciating, as if my skull was broken by that one single strike. I am still unable to see out of my left eye as the man marches towards me.

    ¡°Oh how I have wanted to do that you stuck up prick!¡± The man shouts at me.

    ¡°You walk around camp completely uninjured after a battle, you never ask anyone if they are alright, or try to give any of us a hand to grab or a shoulder to lean on!¡± He continues, ¡°I have always wanted to kill you!¡± The once crazed voice sounds clear and resolute, this is no longer the voice of a man with an unreasonable hatred for a young princess, this is a man out for my blood, only because to his own knowledge, my own was never spilled on the battlefield.

 Chapter 4 - Royal Blood

    Chapter 4 - Royal Blood

    I get back to my feet and the man rushes me and charges his fist behind his back as if he is gonna swing at me, I start to throw a kick and he recognizes this and tries to do the same thing that he did to Aloe, he must have specialized more in wrestling. The only problem with that strategy is that I am not so clumsy to just throw a kick at the head of a moving target, instead I aim for his ribs, after feinting a head kick of course, and he ducks his head down expecting a head kick, before he even knows it my foot is cracking him right behind his left ear, courtesy of his own head movement, causing him to fall to his knees instantly. He looks completely out, as he starts to fall backwards his body is unable to completely fall backwards and he just slings back and forth in an unnatural way, his spine seemingly being the only thing in the way of him falling completely down.

    Gravity gets the better of him and he falls to his side. His body twitches slightly but his twitching gets more and more aggressive within a couple seconds, and he makes noises that sound like a combination of snoring and him swallowing his tongue while blood leaks from his mouth, presumably from the kick I gave him to the jaw.

    ¡°Holy crap Zee! Where the hell did you learn to do that?¡± Aloe questions me in complete surprise of what she just witnessed me do.

    Before I could answer, people from the crowd broke their silence, and started to move forward to see if the man I just knocked out was okay.

    Aloe grabs my hand and starts to pull me away in a rush, she stumbles slightly, probably due to being dazed by the punch she took earlier. She looks unsteady on her feet, and she keeps rubbing her head. She reminds me of a child who has never been hit before in their life, but also like someone too prideful to admit that they are hurt. Suddenly I saw her as a fellow soldier, not in reality, but often I was being led by people who were injured, at least compared to me who was relatively uninjured for the whole war. Even though my swollen eye is hardly an injury compared to her, she still is taking the lead and dragging me along the streets, with her balance completely gone, and after the back of her head was smashed into the ground. In The War I was more willing to let people lead, because I am just a mere private, a grunt, calling me a sheep is an accurate description of who I was in The War. This all still rings true, but seeing Aloe barely able to walk fills me with an even stronger urge, the urge to help her, to at least help her lead me to wherever she is trying to get.

    I pull back on Aloe¡¯s hand that she is dragging me along with, in her unbalanced footing she falls backwards easily, I reach over and wrap my arm around her shoulder, and I position her arm around my own shoulder.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing, commoner?¡± She says in an angry voice, but it seems weaker, not so commanding but more tired, to the point where I feel like she wouldn¡¯t even have the energy to hit me.

    ¡°J-just helping you, you still have to steer because I have no idea where we are going.¡± I say plainly, unable to express any sort of care in my tone for a reason beyond my own understanding.

    ¡°W-whatever.¡± She says as she lets out a long exhale, as if she is finally able to breathe again.

    My plain response to her question seems to have set her at ease, it almost feels like she would have been angry if I tried to be the hero coming to her rescue in this situation, and since I gave her the impression that I was being objective, she decided to let me help her. Though it wasn¡¯t my intention to sound so objective, my inability to express any sort of tone besides being snarky or nonchalant seems to have benefitted me for the first time today.

    ¡°Hold on, it''s somewhere around here.¡± Aloe stays as she comes to a halt and looks around the area.

    ¡°What exactly are we looking for?¡± I ask.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see, it¡¯s like my home base.¡± Aloe says while looking around still.

    Aloe starts leading us down a plain looking alleyway, she seems to have regained her balance as she pulls away from me and walks ahead, she points at a single piece of paper nailed into a door, on the paper is a drawn picture of a hand pointing upwards.

    ¡°This means home base.¡± She says as she knocks on the door with the paper nailed onto it.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t get why you had such a hard time looking for your home base¡­¡± I say as I look around the alleyway, nothing really looks unusual.

    ¡°It''s my first time coming here, but you have to introduce yourself to everyone.¡± Aloe grabs my face and turns it towards the door.

    The door has a slit about three fourths the way up, it is covered by a piece of metal from the other side of the door. A minute passes in silence and when I start feeling the need to question Aloe on what we are waiting for and why I am even here with her, the metal piece on the door suddenly slides open, revealing two red colored eyes in the slit as they peer at the both of us. The red color of their eyes is accented by their long, white eyelashes.

    Red eyes are a common feature of people further up north, I am not totally sure why they all are born with red eyes but along with their red eyes, their skin is practically snow white, and so is their hair. Their country, Northal, is a snowy wasteland, they are the only people actually able to survive in such a climate, but many of them have come to Eccacia 50 years ago due to some trade contract signed between the nations. This was a play by the Eccacian Royal Family to have easy access to Northal¡¯s natural resources, most people would say the people of Northal got tricked into something, but a lot of them wanted the ability to travel to Eccacia and the Capital City in order to sell their goods for more money or to work less and get paid more compared to their home country.

    ¡°Aloe¡­ who¡¯s this blondie?¡± The voice on the other side of the door inquires about me, clearly a woman''s voice.

    ¡°Some guy I just met. Let us in.¡± Aloe says in a careless sounding voice.

    Through the slit the eyes of the Northal woman squinted at me. She looks me up and down then back to Aloe.

    ¡°Aloe, this ain¡¯t like you, bringing random men back home.¡± The woman says, clearly concerned for Aloe, but also untrusting of me.

    ¡°Jeez Shira, it isn¡¯t like that, he¡¯s the kid who keeps sending that old hag the letters!¡± Aloe exclaims in an annoyed tone.

    ¡°Wha-!¡± I shout.

    Just how many people know about those damned letters?!

    ¡°The boy called Zebedee Levin? The one that sis always talked about when she came back?¡± The woman who I now know is called Shira says with a hint of curiosity.

    The door opens suddenly, revealing the full figure of Shira. She is extremely tall, taller than me and she wears revealing clothing, her muscular abdomen is on full display, and her legs just as muscular are in full view as her shorts only reach down to the top of her thighs. More surprising than her build is her hair, it is jet black just like Aloe¡¯s and Angela¡¯s, for some reason her eyelashes are the expected color of someone from Northal. Her face is soft looking, and she is comparable in beauty to that of Angela.

    ¡°Having fun checking out my sister?¡± Aloe says to me.

    ¡°H-huh? Oh, no I am not? Your sister?¡± I say plainly.

    ¡°Yeah she¡¯s another illegitimate child, except no one has found out about her¡­ whatever! Anyways, are you not having fun or not checking her out?¡± Aloe says as I look at her, a smug look on her face.

    ¡°Hey stop conversing and get inside already, what if someone sees you both!¡± Shira motions us inside with urgency in her voice.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    On that note Aloe leads me inside the doorway. The inside of this supposed ¡°home base¡± is a dusty looking bar, with red tinted lights sprawled around the bar leaving some spots with no lighting at all. Six people sit around the bar not including the person standing behind the bar, a big muscular guy who lacks any notable features besides the bushiest mustache I have ever seen in my life. Everyone else looks unremarkable besides the fact that all their clothing looks suspiciously common, like they tried so hard to look like commoners but overdid it.

    Aloe leads me to a seat and sits me down.

    ¡°What the hell happened to your face Aloe?!¡± One of the men sitting at the bar exclaims.

    ¡°Did this blonde mongrel do this to you?¡± A woman sitting to my left says.

    ¡°No way this dumb looking commoner could do this kind of damage to Madam Aloe¡¯s face!¡± Another man sitting at the bar yells.

    The reason for their ¡°overly common¡± look is clear to me now, even an idiot could hear their voices and know exactly what they are, these people are very obviously royals. They spoke in reference to me and insulted me before they even shot me a single glance, all their focus on the injured Aloe, none of them seemed to have even noticed my swollen eye. The people sitting at the bar all pester Aloe about her injuries relentlessly.

    ¡°Everyone, I am alright!¡± Aloe shouts in order to shut everyone up.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t have chosen somewhere less dusty and old as our home base?¡± Aloe questions the people.

    ¡°We can¡¯t risk being seen by higher class people, sister.¡± Shira says while still standing at the door.

    Aloe sinks into her seat as if she is a child throwing a silent tantrum. I clear my throat as I get ready to start questioning the scenario I am in, and every person in the room suddenly stares daggers into me, I gulped nervously.

    ¡°S-so, where the hell am I?¡± I ask

    The people of the bar all collectively gag at the sound of my voice.

    ¡°Ugh, I really do hate hearing commoners speak!¡± a woman at the very right side of the bar says.

    Looking at Aloe it is clear she is enjoying the verbal assault I am getting from all these royals in disguise, and I can feel the frustration build up in my heart.

    Aloe lets out a laugh, ¡°Did you guys not hear me before?¡± She questions everyone.

    ¡°This is THE Zee.¡± She says while pointing at me with both her hands.

    Everyone gasps in sync. Everyone in the bar is now looking at me with different looks in their eyes

    ¡°The real Zee in the flesh?¡± A couple of the men say in sync.

    ¡°What? You all know me too?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Of course we know you! Madam Angela spoke about you all the time when she came back to the castle 10 years ago!¡± The man who called me a ¡°dumb looking commoner¡± says.

    Something about his words strikes me as odd.

    ¡°Wait. What do you mean she came back to the castle?¡± I question the man.

    The woman to my left speaks up, ¡°You didn¡¯t know? Miss Angela was sent to the outskirts by King Harold in order to hide her identity as her Illegitimate child, following the death of Miss Kayla she was summoned back home to the castle.¡±

    I had heard of Princess Kayla when I was a child, she was said to have suddenly died from illness, and a nationwide grieving commenced. We all had to sit at home and listen to the king give a speech about her on the radio, it was soon after that when I got drafted into Early Development.

    ¡°Miss Angela was summoned home in an attempt to hide Miss Kayla¡¯s death from the public, as they looked very similar! But Miss Kayla¡¯s death was leaked to the public before they could ever disguise Miss Angela as her, and before they could secretly transport Miss Angela back to the outskirts, The War broke out!¡± The woman to my left continued to explain, ¡°This all culminated in her identity as an illegitimate child of King Harold being leaked to the public a few years later.¡± The woman looks down and shakes her head.

    The room was silent and I had a hard time processing so much information that I just stared at the woman. I look to my right at Aloe, she is looking down along with everyone else. They all looked sad, but I get the feeling that they are not sad about what they just told me. No, they are sad about something else they haven¡¯t told me. Before I can question them, the woman on the very right side of the bar speaks up.

    ¡°The truth is that Miss Kayla was not taken from us by an illness.¡± She pauses as she looks around at everyone sitting at the bar, they all nod at her.

    ¡°She was killed by her own brother, The First Son, and Savior of Eccacia, Prince Lucius.¡± The lady finishes.

    Silence fills the bar once again. This revelation is hard to believe to me, especially as a former soldier. Prince Lucius led us into battle many times, he fought fearlessly on the frontlines with us, his hands were stained with more blood than any soldier combined but all that blood spilled was righteous, those enemy soldiers would have killed any one of us in a heartbeat, he was protecting us. His activity in the war meant you can ask almost any soldier if he had saved them at least once and they would all say ¡°Yes¡± without any question, that includes me.

    :¡±I¡¯m sorry everyone but that¡¯s kinda hard to believe without any proof.¡± I say apologetically, seeing their sad expressions, I felt bad for not believing in them.

    ¡°It¡¯s true! Angela can tell you when she gets here!¡± Aloe yells.

    ¡°Angy is coming here?!¡± I question Aloe and she nods.

    ¡°W-where even is here?!¡± I question Aloe again.

    ¡°OH! Sorry I forgot to tell you!¡± Aloe smiles and looks at everyone, they all smile back at her.

    ¡°We are the High Order! This is our home base, and we are gonna overthrow the Royal Family!¡± Aloe says plainly, almost like what she just said is completely normal.

    My mouth is agape for more than a few seconds, everyone in the room seems to giggle and laugh with pride at such a statement. I hate the royal family more than anyone but such a plot is suicide, and completely bonkers. They all look at me, waiting for my response.

    ¡°You¡¯re all crazy! Let me out of here there is no way I should be here!¡± I shout, the idea of going home and instantly chugging a beer crosses my mind.

    ¡°Hey this was all Angela¡¯s Idea!¡± Aloe yells.

    A plan to overthrow the royal family being Angy¡¯s plot is hard to believe, but on top of that it wouldn¡¯t make sense that she fled with Dane and her servants last night to somewhere besides here, only to show up here at a later time. No, something doesn¡¯t add up.

    ¡°What was all that with Dane then? Why did he knock me out and why did she run off with him and her two weird ass servants?!¡± I yell with my eyes closed

    The room goes silent and I open my eyes. Everyone is looking at me with confused looks on their faces, like they have no idea what I am talking about,

    ¡°What are you talking about? Why would Dane be in the Capital City?¡± Aloe questions me.

    ¡°Huh? He was with Angy last night, I saw her making a ruckus with her two idiot servants and I followed them. Dane hit me out of nowhere and they just ran off.¡± I explained.

    Everyone looks at each other, confused at my words.

    ¡°You are making no sense! That old hag was running away to get out of marrying that asshole, and to officially start the coup! You must be lying!¡± Aloe yells at me as she stands up from her seat.

    Everyone follows in suit and berates me with questions, not believing what I tell them. Moreover I¡¯m starting to get a bad feeling, this feeling is the same one I would get during The War, when things would go quiet, not literally, but in the moments where we are least suspecting of something forgetting we are in the middle of a battlefield. The calm before the storm people call it. My gaze shifts to Shira, she is not looking out at the door anymore. Instead she is walking over to me and berating me with questions as well.

    Time feels as if it is slowing down, I can feel sweat pouring down my face and it gets into my eyes but I feel like if I blink I will surely lose my life, the people around me aren¡¯t getting the same feeling. They all keep yelling at me and yelling at me, Shira completely abandons her post as guard, leaving everything exposed.

    ¡°Shira, wait!¡± I scream

    She stops in her tracks, and everyone goes silent. They all stare at me like I''m a crazy person. Nothing happens, and I can feel the feeling subside a bit, but not entirely.

    ¡°S-sorry, I don¡¯t know what''s going on with me.¡± I say while shuddering.

    *CRACK*

    A window breaks near the front door and something whizzes past my face.

    ¡°AHH!¡± Aloe yelps behind me in pain.

    I look behind me to see a knife stuck in the arm of Aloe, before I can even think all of the windows shatter around us and the people of the bar all start screaming. To my left the woman who was once talking so much is laying face down in a pool of her own blood, a knife in the back of her head. In another instant, three people jump through the broken windows. Before I can even react Aloe falls on the floor and all the men who were sitting at the bar have knives stuck in their throats.

    The woman who was sitting on the very right of the bar starts to scream, one of the men throws a knife at her and she reaches forward with her hands acting as a shield, the knife pierces her left hand and she goes silent in shock. The man who threw the knife dashes at her with inhuman speed and stabs her in the neck; she never makes another noise besides a choking sound as she falls to the ground. With that everyone who was once so lively asking me questions laid in pools of their own royal blood, completely silent.

    Aloe is still screaming and Shira attempts to run towards us, she gets stopped by one of the men attempting to stab her. She has her back against a pillar and uses her strength to overpower the man. Suddenly she coughs up blood, the third man snuck behind her and starts to stab her in the stomach repeatedly. In the commotion I fall to my knees seeing the once lively bar turn into a bloodbath within a minute.

    Aloe continues to groan in pain as a glass falls from the bar, smashing onto the floor. Shira has now fallen to the floor, her royal blood begins to pool on the floor under her.

 Chapter 4.5 - Letter 7

    Chapter 4.5 - Letter 7

    Angela laid in her gigantic bed, she still wasn¡¯t used to living in the castle again after 5 years. She looked out of the window thinking of Zee, her old friend from the outskirts, wondering when another letter would come in from him.

    At that moment a knock at her door got her attention.

    ¡°Madam Angela, that young man sent you¡¯s another letter, the persistent bastard.¡± The voice of Eppie said to Angela through the door.

    ¡°Eppie! Don¡¯t be rude, that''s my best friend in the whole wide world ya talkin about!¡± Angela ridiculed Eppie.

    ¡°Yeah yeah, whateva Madam. Are you gonna open the door or do I¡¯s need to bend down and break my back to slide it under ur dumb door.¡± Eppie complained.

    If it was Hippie delivering the letter she would just have him slide the letter under the door, but if she made Eppie do that he would never forgive her.

    ¡°Hold on!¡± Angela yelled.

    Angela jumped from her bed and ran to the door and cracked it open slightly.

    ¡°Here, take it.¡± Eppie says as he slipped the note through the crack of the barely open door, he sounded annoyed to Angela.

    Angela grabbed the letter quickly.

    ¡°Thanks Eppie!¡± She said, and Eppie only grunts in response.

    Eppie¡¯s footsteps are audible to Angela, as he walked down the long hallway she waited until she couldn¡¯t hear his footsteps anymore to read the letter. She ran to her bed and stared at the unopened letter.

    Angela¡¯s pale hands unfolded the paper and she read the letter.

    ~Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Letter 7

    April 1st, XX04

    To: Angela Swain

    Hello again, Angy I have been missing you a lot these days. I have some news to tell you, to be honest I am not sure if it is good news or bad news, but I am being sent to some sort of program called ¡°Early Development¡±, some military guys came by and gave my mom a letter that said I was going to be trained to fight the Evil South, and in order to be the strongest kind of soldier I had to go now. I am not sure what any of that means, and to be honest I am kind of scared, I don¡¯t wanna go to war.

    But anyways Angy, I don¡¯t wanna scare you, I¡¯m sure I will be fine. I don¡¯t have much to report besides that. I do hope to hear from you at some point, I decided to start numbering my letters because I am worried that I might forget how many I have sent to you. But that''s neither here nor there.

    You wanna know something funny? Mom seemed happy that I was being sent away to some sort of military training. She thanked the military men at the door and laughed while she read the letter, and continued laughing when she told me what the next few years of my life was gonna be like. I seriously have no idea what I did to that lady to make her treat me like this.

    I wish I had more to say Angy, but mom is currently nagging me, apparently the bus is already here so I gotta go. I¡¯ll write to you again as soon as I can!

    From Your Best Pal, Zee.

    ~

    On the bottom of the paper was a sketched photo of a flower and the words ¡°For you.¡± written under it.

    Angela¡¯s mouth hung open at the revelation of Zee going into Early Development. See, she knew all about it, there is not a soul in the Capital City that didn¡¯t know about it, but the people of the royal castle knew what it was in reality, and that is a child soldier training program, made in a desperate attempt to beat the Artenian Army with soldiers who only knew how to kill and fight in war.

    Angela stormed out of her room for the first time since she got back to the castle, she made her way to the throne room where King Harold was located. She burst through the huge doors to the throne room, where not only her father dwelled, but also Queen Emilia and her half brother, Prince Lucius. The sight of the two of them, one of which is a murderer, made her doubt her next words, but she stood strong.

    ¡°Father! My friend from the outskirts is being drafted into Early Development!¡± Angela exclaimed. She stood there, analyzing her fathers reaction to her words, only to see him completely unfazed.

    ¡°Please you have to spare hi-¡± Angela is cut off by her father.

    ¡°Be quiet!¡± Her father yelled.

    ¡°You have locked yourself in your room, and you have enjoyed the luxuries of this royal family, and you have shown no gratitude towards us! Now that your friend is at risk you come asking for more?!¡± Her father scoffed at her arrogance.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t spoken out against Early Development at all until now! You hypocrite!¡± Her father yelled.

    Angela¡¯s eyes were downcast at this proclamation, for one because her fathers voice scared her into submission, but also because she knew he was right. If Zee hadn¡¯t been drafted into Early Development she wouldn¡¯t have given it a second thought, in fact she knew that she wouldn¡¯t care at all, she even saw how such a program might help her country succeed in a war against Artenia. Angela looked up at the three of them one final time, her father had a glint of hatred in his eye, and the other two just snickered and mocked her.

    That night was the one and only time she ran away from the castle, she didn¡¯t make it very far for very long at all, and that is not what matters most, for that night she was spotted by the person that would eventually leak her existence to the public. But that wouldn¡¯t happen for another few years. Moreover, this event sowed the seed of rebellion within Angela, you might even call it the catalyst of current events, a butterfly effect of sorts.

 Chapter 5 - The 47th one.

    Chapter 5 - The 47th one.

    Aloe¡¯s cries fill the now destroyed bar, she calls out to Shira who lays motionless on the floor in a pool of her own blood. The once lively bar now looks like a bloodbath, the men and women who spoke so passionately are all drained like pigs all over the bar tables, and the strong and beautiful Shira was mutilated in front of me and Aloe. The three men who invaded the bar pull their knives from the corpses and they wipe their hands of any blood, they look at me and Aloe as we are both on our knees beside each other, they start to speak amongst themselves in a language that is all too familiar to me¡­ Artenian.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I speak in their language, somehow through all the fear and trauma.

    The three of them look at me, shocked that I know their language, one of them even chuckles as they start to converse amongst each other again.

    They turn to me again after a minute.

    ¡°Boy, how do you know our language?¡± The man in the middle asks me, his voice clearly has the accent of an Artenian speaking our language.

    ¡°I fought in The War.¡± I say plainly.

    ¡°Someone your age fought in The War? For how long a few months?¡± The man on the left laughs at me.

    ¡°No. Six years.¡± I say plainly.

    The three of them look at me, all of them unsure if I am telling them the truth or making up a lie to scare them. For some reason my fear starts to fade, after finding out they are Artenian this situation has started to feel like familiar territory for me, I have been in hundreds of scenarios like this one.

    ¡°You must look young for your age!¡± The man on the right says, believing my claim but making up a reality where he doesn¡¯t have to fear me.

    Pride is the death of a man. That was told to me by my father and my bones are aching to prove those words right at this moment.

    ¡°Well you old crook, you seem to be the unlucky one here. We have no orders to kill you but we also can¡¯t leave any witnesses.¡± The man in the middle says as he breaks out into an evil cackle, the other two of them follow suit.

    ¡°W-why? W-who sent y-you?¡± Aloe stutters and cries, the knife still stuck in her arm.

    ¡°Aha! That there is a secret young lady, all you need to know is this is necessary.¡± The man in the middle says, he grins and continues, ¡°Just be glad we aren¡¯t sickos, or you¡¯d really want to die at this moment.¡± They all laugh.

    ¡°Well that is only because it''s no fun killing someone who wants to die!¡± The man on the right cackles.

    They spend the next few minutes taunting us and laughing at us, Aloe cries louder, and something in me continues to brew, the familiar part of myself, the thing the damned royals groomed me into. Even in this moment, I am here because of those fucking royals.

    ¡°It has been fun guys, the least I can do is tell you the name of your killers.¡± The man in the middle says with a big smile on his face.

    ¡°I am Arturo.¡± He says while holding his chest.

    ¡°On my left is Matty.¡± He points to the man to our right.

    ¡°And this guy is Serpis.¡± He tilts his head to the man to our left.

    ¡°Well Miss Aloe, Matty here will have the pleasure of-¡± He pauses to look into Aloe¡¯s eyes, and he smiles at the tears starting to fall down her cheeks, ¡°- slitting your throat!¡± At this point they all start to laugh like maniacs.

    Aloe doesn¡¯t say any words she just screams in utter terror as the tears continue to pour down her face, she glances at me for a second before she attempts to run away. The once annoying and batty girl completely gone by this point, the moment before someone dies will always be the most pure, and this is the purest she has ever appeared to anyone ever, for the first time in her life she is crying tears that actually mean something, down to her very core. You could say her mask is cracking and breaking rapidly.

    The man named Matty chases after Aloe who only gets a few steps before he grabs hold of her short, beautiful, jet black hair. The sounds of her screams make me wish for my ears to deafen, no matter what, Aloe¡¯s death is not righteous, it isn¡¯t necessary to anything or for anyone, no matter how annoying she is, that is what makes this reality dreadful. Because she is about to die¡­ for absolutely no reason at all. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Here it is, reality. Aloe stares into my eyes, her eyes are still full of tears and under her eyes her skin is red, Matty turns her to face me as he holds a six inch knife to her throat. The knife is a decorative kind of knife, it¡¯s handle is about as long as the blade, and it is painted white with a gold accent, the blade itself is a beautiful silver, it shines brightly in the red lights of the bar. It isn¡¯t the kind blade you would think was being used for such a purpose. I focus on the blade, it starts to carve into Aloe¡¯s throat, she begins to scream in pain as it pierces her skin and draws blood, but it stops, Matty grins in ecstasy, he wants to make it slow, and bask in her fear for longer.

    Before I realize it, the man named Arturo is holding his own blade to my throat.

    ¡°Truly sorry about this friend. She is a beauty.¡± Arturo whispers in my ear.

    The blade being held at Aloe¡¯s throat cuts deeper, drawing more blood. For the first time she doesn¡¯t scream in pain, she just looks at me with desperation, that¡¯s it, her mask is completely shattered.

    ¡°Please save me!¡± Aloe screams, her face desperate, but we lock eyes again and her face changes¡­ to fear.

    The change in her expression is a reaction to my own expression, I have seen it before. My bones have been aching for this, I know exactly what I am doing as I grab the blade at my throat with my right hand and yank it, sending it flying into the shoulder of Matty. I lunge at him, as fast as I can, before his beautiful knife can even touch the ground my left hand is wrapped around the back of his head, and my right hand, now missing the pinky finger, is wrapped under his chin as I grip as hard as I can, and push and pull in opposite directions, the look in his eyes shifted from pure joy, to pain, to the fearful realization of his impending doom, in a matter of seconds. His mask came off, and in the next instant the life left his eyes as his body crashed to the floor.

    Silence fills the room.

    ¡°45¡± I whisper under my breath.

    ¡°What the fuck!¡± Arturo yells, his face no longer is that of a man in pure ecstasy, but one of shock and fear.

    Arturo scrambles around trying to get a blade from his pocket only to realize he has run out of any weapon to use.

    ¡°You shoulda brought guns.¡± I say plainly.

    ¡°Who brings guns to an assassination job you dumb Eccacian!¡± Arturo screams in frustration as he motions to Serpis.

    They both charge at me, Arturo is the first to throw a punch at my face, but Serpis also throws a punch aimed right for my ribcage. This is a skilled assault, I can tell these two have fought many battles together and honed their compatibility over many years. It is unfortunate that some people simply bring the team down. Arturo¡¯s punch is faster and any random person on the street wouldn¡¯t be able to dodge such an amazing punch, but I was trained for this purpose, his punch whizzes past my face, unable to touch a single hair on my head. Next is Serpis, his punch has not gotten close to me and Arturo has already missed me, I deflect his punch, changing the direction entirely, leading his sloppy punch precisely into Arturo¡¯s Jaw, this sends him stumbling backwards as he catches himself with a chair.

    Serpis continues his assault, he throws a punch, I dodge and counter, again and again, my right finger begins to bleed even more from where my pinky used to be. Before Arturo can even get his footing back, I have turned Serpis¡¯s face into a swollen and bloody mess. Arturo screams in frustration and he throws a punch at me, but he stops, before I can react he grabs hold of me and pins me to the bar.

    ¡°Kill the fucking girl so we can get the fuck out of here!¡± Arturo orders Serpis, he knows he has lost this battle so he is trying to escape with good news, even if it means leaving me alive.

    Serpis lunges towards Aloe and she screams once again. As suddenly as he charges at Aloe, Serpis falls to the ground, courtesy of a knife they left stuck in the man they killed.

    ¡°What the hell are you d-¡± Arturo pauses in shock as he sees the knife sticking out of Serpis¡¯s skull. Arturo looks at me, his mask begins to crack.

    ¡°That makes 46!¡± I shout out loud.

    ¡°You guys left all these knives laying around, you should have used them instead of trying to punch me up!¡± I say in an excited tone that surprises both Aloe and Arturo, even me.

    ¡°Not that it would have changed anything.¡± I say as I plunge one of their own knives in and out his shoulder.

    Arturo screams in pain as he releases his grip around me and falls to the floor, clutching his shoulder. My gaze shifts to Aloe, and she looks at me with horror. She has seen me, without my mask, she has seen what the royals, her family turned me into to fight their war.

    ¡°P-p-please spare me! I will tell you everything!¡± Arturo pleads, my eyes shift back to him.

    ¡°...Sure.¡± I say plainly.

    Arturo goes silent, he clearly thought he was gonna have to beg harder for my mercy.

    ¡°W-well, w-what do you w-want to know?¡± Arturo shudders in fear.

    ¡°Hmm, maybe something like¡­ who sent you? Obviously.¡± I say while lightly smacking his face a few times.

    Arturo goes silent, he seems scared to reveal who gave him his orders, he debates himself in his own mind, questioning whether or not I am the most dangerous, or if the person he takes orders from is. He doesn¡¯t realize he doesn¡¯t have as much time as he thinks to think. I punch him square in the nose, he begins to plead as I punch him in the nose again. My hand begins to start to feel numb from blood loss. Before I punch him again he pleads loudly.

    ¡°O-ok ok! It was Master Dane and Princess Angela I-¡± He is interrupted by my fist striking his nose again, he lets out a yelp.

    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit! Angy would never do something like this!¡± I scream.

    ¡°I swear!¡± Arturo screams as he senses another beating.

    Soon I no longer feel in control of my own body as I punch him all over his face. He screams and begs, he says I promised to spare him, but those pleads are falling on deaf ears. One hit after another, even after he went unconscious I keep on hitting him more and more. My right hand is in excruciating pain and the blood from where my pinky finger used to be mixed with his blood pouring out of his face.

    It is only as Aloe pulls me off of him that I am able to witness the scene before me. Arturo, the once smug, maniac assassin, gargling on his own blood.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough Zee!¡± Aloe shouts at me, the look on her face is fearful of me.

    I look at Aloe, again her face looks so much like Angela¡¯s. It pains me to see a face so similar to hers in such anguish. Her arm and neck are both still bleeding, and no one has cared to remove the knife from her arm, which is probably a good thing, but she is using all her strength to hold me back, as if she is holding my mask together, preserving my humanity, or my sense of morality. I look at Arturo on the floor, he no longer makes a sound, his mouth wide open and full of blood.

    ¡°That¡¯s 47.¡± I say under my breath, and Aloe begins to whimper while holding me.

 Chapter 6 - Inferno

    Chapter 6 - Inferno

    Before me and Aloe have any time to process what just happened, a crackling and popping noise starts to sound behind the bar, and a gently yet swiftly growing light creeps around the edge and top of the bar, shining a yellow glow on the bottles behind the bar. I gently shove Aloe to the side and run over to see what it is, a fire is starting to burn behind the bar, and a trail of gasoline leads to the front exit, in an instant the flames spread and engulf that exit and the flames start to over power mine and Aloe¡¯s lungs as both simultaneously start to cough.

    ¡°Aloe! Is there another exit?!¡± I yell at her

    Aloe is in a state of shock as she realizes that our nightmare isn¡¯t over just yet, her eyes are focused on the fire, but she stopped crying. In a strange way, she looks as if she has given herself up to this fate. I can¡¯t have her giving up before we get out of here though.

    ¡°Aloe! Snap out of it!¡± I say as I shake her.

    A glint of realization shines in her eyes, maybe it was me shaking her, or something else. She blinks and looks towards the exit, and then she looks at me.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on!?¡± She yells as the flames start to burn brighter and louder, drowning out our voices.

    ¡°Is there another way out of here?!¡± I ask as loud as I can.

    ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve been here! I have no Idea!¡± Aloe whines, as she starts to realize we are in an even tougher spot than we thought.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just run through the front door!¡± Aloe screams

    ¡°You have no idea how hot the fire actually is, you¡¯ll burn yourself!¡± I yell at Aloe.

    Without taking a second more to listen to me, Aloe takes off running to the front exit and jumps through the flames. I can see her make it to the other side and her silhouette turns back to see where I am, and if I am gonna jump through the flames as she did.

    ¡°That fucking psycho! Oh well, fuck I-¡° I am cut off by a familiar voice before I make my sprint through the front door.

    ¡°H-help m-m-¡° The voice of Shira weakly pleads, before she succumbs to her injuries and falls unconscious.

    It is bizarre that she even survived such an assault, but to even regain consciousness is something I¡¯ve never seen from someone as injured as her. The people of Northal are said to have a stronger ability to survive injuries than most people, something about being in their genes and due to their harsh homeland, but before now I only thought of that as a rumor. I have seen plenty of them killed with one bullet or blown to smithereens during The War, to the point where me and any other soldier just thought their ability was simply made up. But it was called their ¡°Survival Factor¡±.

    I grab her and hold her in my arms, Aloe¡¯s faint pleading and yelling is slightly audible through the sounds of the flames crackling and popping in my ears, but her words are incoherent, she is probably pleading for me to hurry, as I have spent an unnecessary amount of time waiting to escape, especially in her eyes. I start to charge out of the bar and before I can get to the front door, the frame of the door starts to collapse. I throw Shira out of the building and lunge as fast as I can through the door, the collapsing frame smashes against my back and a searing pain fills my whole back and neck.

    ¡°AH!¡± I let out a yell as I made it out of the building. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Aloe looks towards Shira¡¯s body before her eyes dart towards me, shock and concern fills her eyes.

    ¡°Hold on!¡± Aloe yells as she runs towards me.

    She starts patting my back and when I look to see, it seems like when the frame collapsed on me my shirt caught on fire. Aloe is patting the flames with her bare hands, and though it should hurt like hell, she is probably wired with adrenaline at this moment and hardly feels anything. Aside from a few grunts of pain, she only makes desperate sounds while beating the flames, and finally she gets the flame out. Before I can thank her, she falls to her knees in front of Shira on the floor. She starts to cry again, and I can understand it, even though we stand before a burning inferno, we are finally safe from any immediate threat. At least that''s what mine and probably her instincts are saying.

    ¡°W-what the hell happened? God, why did this happen to us so suddenly?!¡± She screams while whimpering and looking at the dark sky, now illuminated by the glow of the inferno.

    With the relief from danger, Aloe is starting to collapse under what has become our new reality. Right now I can only give her a single sliver of hope.

    ¡°Aloe, Shira is still alive.¡± I tell her calmly.

    Aloe turns and looks at me with wide eyes, the tears start to flow faster as her face strains in a mixture of sadness and relief. She turns to look at Shiva who landed face down and her head facing me and Aloe. She¡¯s breathing lightly but it¡¯s strained, you wouldn¡¯t be able to tell that she is breathing unless you really looked closely. Even though she survived the initial attack due to her survival factor, she is bleeding out through multiple stab wounds, she needs help, and fast.

    Down the streets the brake lights of a car flashes and a humongous man runs towards the car, he turns to look at us, inadvertently revealing his identity to me. It is unmistakable, the bald head, the bushy mustache¡­ the inconspicuous bartender. That can only mean that he was involved with the attack, and that the entire thing really was a set up. Aloe¡¯s grunts cause me to lose my focus on the car, she is attempting to turn Shira to her back, she struggles due to Shira¡¯s size and the car speeds away.

    Aloe is able to get Shira turned over, but she covers her mouth with her hands after seeing the extent of Shira¡¯s wounds. Six stab wounds all in her abdomen leaked blood and she had blood coming from her nose, either from falling in the bar or when I threw her out of it. Aloe lays her hand on Shira¡¯s face that strains in pain despite her being unconscious.

    ¡°Oh You poor thing.¡± Aloe begins to cry more.

    ¡°We need to get her help quickly. She may be a Northal Native but she isn¡¯t immortal.¡± I say as I lay my hand on Aloe¡¯s shoulder.

    Without a second to think sirens sound in the distance.

    ¡°Help is coming Shira!¡± Aloe shouts while letting out a slight laugh in a state of relief.

    ¡°Can you hear tha-¡± Aloe stops.

    ¡°H-hey!¡± Aloe yells at me as I sling Shira over my shoulder.

    Aloe tries to grab Shira from me and I push her away.

    ¡°Stop! What do you think is gonna happen to us if we stay? That man in there told us that the Royals of not only Artenia, but Eccacia are responsible for this! We can¡¯t remain in the open! We are loose ends!¡± I yell at her, trying to get her to understand the reality we now live in.

    Aloe doesn¡¯t say anything but her expression reflects an understanding, and she stops trying to grab Shira from me.

    ¡°Do you know anywhere we can get Shira help, where the Royals can¡¯t find us?¡± I ask

    ¡°M-maybe, but I can¡¯t be sure!¡± She says.

    ¡°Now''s not the time to be unsure, Aloe!¡± I yell at her with urgency.

    ¡°O-ok, follow me!¡± She says as she sprints deeper into the alley way and I follow.

    As we are running the once inconspicuous bar now burns brightly in the night, the fire spreads to the other businesses and houses and people start walking out into the street to see what is going on. Before we turn the corner into another alleyway that is void of this chaos, the fire fully engulfs the neighboring buildings and the firefighters arrive on the scene. Before they can even begin to put out the flames a man runs out of the building with a woman in his arms. She is fighting to run back into the building, the man holds her back as they both begin to break down in tears.

    Aloe has not seen this all unfold as she tries to lead the way through the alley ways despite her injuries. I am just now realizing how sturdy this girl really is, from getting concussed to stabbed and nearly killed in one day, she is still taking the lead, with some push of course. Nevertheless I don¡¯t think I could have asked for a better ally at this moment.

    ¡°Thank you. Aloe¡­¡± I say quietly, with no intention of her hearing it.

    ¡°W-what did you say? Is Shira okay!?¡± Aloe says while panting.

    ¡°N-no it¡¯s nothing, she¡¯s fine.¡±

    She has quite good hearing.

 Chapter 6.5 - Letter 32

    Chapter 6.5 - Letter 32

    ¡°No!¡± Angela yelled out loud.

    Angela threw the letter on the floor as she ran to her bed and jumped face first into it, her dampened cries can only be heard within the giant room she has now grown accustomed to by now.

    The letter read¡­

    ~

    Letter 32

    September 30th, XX08

    To: Angela Swain

    Hey Angy, it¡¯s me again. I have been in the Isles of Arden for about six months now, you should know this is the land we fight The War on, despite Arden having nothing to do with our conflict. I would have never suspected when I turned 16 last March, that I would be thrown right into the middle of such a bloodbath, even though they have been telling me and others my age that exact fact for the last four years.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    I still miss you everyday, though those days where we played outside all day are long gone, and then some. If I am being honest I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll respond to me anymore, but I believe you are receiving these letters at the very least. Angy, I have to believe this, I need to believe this. There is a striking lack of hope and belief in this land of war, and I don¡¯t want to be like everyone else without anything to grab hold of. Is it okay for you to be my HOPE?...

    Angela, even though I want you to think the best of me, I have to admit something terrible to you, please don¡¯t hate me for this. I know we cannot speak but please do not stop reading my letters, if I am able to keep writing these to you please read them, and hear my words until the end.

    Angela, I have killed people. Twelve of them to be specific. It is strange, I am unharmed, I have been this whole time, but I have harmed people, and I have taken their lives. That isn¡¯t all, I am afraid, and I am because I don¡¯t feel sorry, or guilty at all. When I killed them I felt justified, and in a way¡­ satisfied. They would have killed me if I hadn¡¯t killed them, but the look on their faces looked¡­ good, at least to me. I think I enjoy it too much when I do it, and despite being taught this way, I know that has to be wrong.

    Please don¡¯t hate me.

    Your Friend, Zebedee

    ~

    Angela¡¯s old friend has now become a pawn of war, a killer, and she knows this, and she hates it¡­ almost all of it. Along with the anguish she felt, rage and intent filled her mind.

    ¡°How can I be your hope in this state¡­ Zee.¡± Angela said quietly into her pillow as she continued to whimper.

    On the other side of the door a young Aloe stood, being the one who delivered the thirty second letter to Angela, and she is able to hear her half sister crying, despite her drowning out her cries into her pillow.

    ¡°What a fool.¡± The young Aloe said as she turned and walked down the long hall.

 Chapter 7 - A Bowl of Bloody Stew

    Chapter 7 - A Bowl of Bloody Stew (Start of Arc 2)

    The room is silent. Aloe sits at the bedside of the unconscious Shira, and a slight rustling in the kitchen is clearly audible due to the lack of any talking, the smell of home cooked stew fills the air, the mixture of beef and a variety of vegetables fill my nostrils and remind me of the meals during The War, which were surprisingly good. Even so, I can feel the anxiety growing within me, slightly, but still growing. I reach for the nightstand, a TV remote being the only thing on top of it, besides an old lamp. I grab the remote and power on the small TV hanging in the corner of the room. A familiar channel flashes onto the screen.

    ¡°The news huh?¡± I say quietly under my breath.

    ¡°Two weeks ago, we reported a bar downtown that was burned down, along with the bar, the fire caused great damages to the surrounding buildings. Within the initial fire, the bodies of multiple people were discovered, but the spread of the fire caused other casualties, even resulting in the death of a child.¡± The woman reporter on the TV says.

    A dark shadow completely fills the room, providing me with a grim reminder of the reality of our current world. I look towards Aloe and I see sorrow in her eyes in reaction to this information, seemingly reminded of the same thing that I was. Just like me, she already knows everything by now, after all this one fact was broadcast on the news for the last two weeks.

    ¡°Ladies and gentleman, not to brush such a tragedy to the side¡­ but the results of the investigation reveal something of grave importance to this nation.¡± The woman looks directly at the camera and pauses.

    ¡°There is evidence that people escaped the bar, but those people have yet to come forward.¡± She pauses again, ¡°You may be wondering why this is important at this moment, and that would be because investigators have discovered evidence of a planned coup against our royal family!¡± She yells, causing exaggerated gasps from the crew that sounded scripted and fake.

    I look at Aloe who is now sat down beside me and more than anxiety, a certain realization seemingly hits her, one that is seemingly beyond me.

    ¡°Folks, this evidence found was badly damaged by the fire, but still, we know a few things¡­¡± She rather annoyingly pauses again, ¡°Prepare yourself people, the photos appearing on the screen now are the perpetrators of everything. The fire, the coup, and rather shockingly, the disappearance, and now known to be the kidnapping of The Youngest Princess Angela!¡± The woman says in an exaggerated tone.

    As the news lady makes this revelation to the public, two images of familiar faces flash onto the screen, the faces of Aloe and Shira. Above the photos of their faces are the words ¡°Wanted¡± in big red letters. The news lady lets the images of the two of them remain before she continues.

    ¡°These two are the alleged perpetrators of all this chaos, The other Youngest Princess-¡° Aloe scoffs after being called the other, ¡°- and a mere servant girl¡± she said, referring to Shira. ¡°On top of all that, investigators tell us there is a possible third person in all of this, due to a severed finger left on the floor of the bar, untouched by the flames, this is only a theory though. The reason for the fire seems to be to hide the fact that every dead person in the bar was already dead before the fire started. Investigators seem to think that the people killed were in on the plan, but got cold feet due to the absurdity of it.¡± The tone shifts, they are switching to the next segment.

    ¡°Well folks, keep a look out for the person missing the finger, and also the other two.¡± says the woman reporter, ¡°That is all, let us pray for the youngest princess!¡± She says as the broadcast cuts to a photo of Angela and the noise goes silent.

    Aloe grabs the remote and shuts off the TV, my eyes had been glued to the TV for most of the broadcast, I had only looked at Aloe briefly and I didn¡¯t get to see how Aloe was really taking all of this. There is an obvious look of frustration on her face, her eyes are cast down, her eyebrows are furrowed, and her mouth is curved into an angry frown. Before she can speak, the door separating the room from the rest of the apartment opens and a man stands in the doorway.

    ¡°Foods ready.¡± The man says without a hint of care in his voice as he turns and walks away, leaving the door open.

    The man¡¯s name is Bastion, he is a doctor that Aloe knew from her childhood in the royal mansion. Apparently he saw the corruption, and also the mistreatment of servants and such, so he decided to go underground, he ceased to exist or faked his death so to speak, metaphorically of course. It is all a bit convoluted, to me I can¡¯t understand why such measures were taken, but they must¡¯ve had a good grip on him, and that must¡¯ve made it necessary. Anyways, Aloe really likes the guy, and she helped him run away a few years ago and they kept in contact to an extent. Honestly things couldn¡¯t have ended up better in this shitty situation, who just knows a ¡°dead¡± doctor that lives out of the sight of the royals and any form of law?

    ¡°Those bastards!¡± Aloe finally lets out her anger, her voice quivering and it sounds as if she is holding back tears. She clenches her fists and turns away from me, hiding her face from me, but a few audible sniffles and hics, and quivering shoulders makes it obvious that she has been overcome with emotion, and a helpless sadness has engulfed her anger.

    ¡°Aloe, this is all because of those damn-¡± I stop talking, seeing Aloe still shaking.

    I caught myself about to insult the royals, considering her status as a royal, that just seems like the wrong thing to say at this moment. Not that I would be wrong in saying anything about the royals. Framing and betrayals are staples of the worst royals, to be honest though, I didn¡¯t see Dane as a bad royal, despite being a former enemy, and of course Angela cannot be compared to the worst of the royals. But if they both are responsible for this¡­

    ¡°Zee.¡± Aloe says suddenly, knocking me out of my rumination, ¡°Let''s go eat!¡± She says as she turns to me with a smile on her face, her eyes are swollen slightly but her tears have been wiped away, and her nose is a bright red color, and she still sniffles every couple seconds. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°Okay, let''s eat.¡± I say, giving Aloe my best attempt at a smile. At this moment we both have put our masks back on, whether it''s to be presentable to each other, or so we don¡¯t completely shatter, isn¡¯t clear to me, and probably isn¡¯t clear to her either.

    Aloe suddenly takes my hand, for a second I feel that I can¡¯t breathe. Usually I am aware of everything going on around me, but when she took my hand, it surprised me, because I didn¡¯t expect or predict it, my guard was completely down. She leads me out of the doorway, and it suddenly strikes me as odd. Aloe hasn¡¯t seemed to stray away from physical touch, it never seemed to even register that she was touching anyone, she was completely uncaring. But as she leads me to the dining room, sweat begins to form on her palm, and she squeezes my hand and loosens her grip sporadically, as if she is trying to calm her anxiety. For some reason I decided to match her pace, and walk beside her instead of letting her lead me. I can feel her gaze on the side of my face but for some reason I can¡¯t look back at her. Walking beside her like this, I feel like she¡¯s not taking the brunt of the stress, because whether we like it or not, we are both in this together.

    Before either of us can really start to process everything, we arrive at the dinner table, there two bowls of beef stew sit beside each other, one for each seat, one of the bowls is filled more than the other, and assuming that to be mine I start to sit in the seat in front of the bowl.

    ¡°Ah ah ah, that one ain¡¯t urs.¡± Bastion says as he taps the rim of the lesser of the bowls with a butter knife. Aloe lets out a soft chuckle, and in response, the man who has only been cold this entire time reveals a warm, soft smile, as if this was his true expression. An expression fitting a savior of life, a person who is passionate, and caring for all.

    ¡°Yes sir.¡± I say plainly.

    As I sit down in front of the lesser bowl of stew I realize that the difference in our portions is not because he cares more about Aloe, or because he has known her since she was a child. It was because Aloe had noticeably lost weight since she got here, more so than me. I fill my spoon with the oily broth and sip it, the taste is a perfect combination of salty and savory, and the hot temperature warms my mouth and throat, providing me with a comfort I haven¡¯t felt in a long while. Clanking of a spoon on a bowl prompts me to look to my right, and Aloe is stuffing her face with beef and vegetables as she holds back another wave of tears. A home cooked meal has these effects on people, hopefully in this moment Aloe feels some relief from our terrible situation.

    For me the relief is brief, while I feel the same stress as Aloe, there is something else within me, something that I buried deep, and out of sight, out of mind, but now it is revealed to my consciousness in full view. The feeling of Artenian blood splattering on my face, running down my hands and arms, the enjoyment of it, that feeling that I worked so hard to push down is back and it pesters the back of my mind constantly, not with words, but just a feeling, an urge. This turns the delicious stew into something utterly unappetizing, instead of the comforting aroma, I can only smell blood.

    ¡°Well, I gotta head to work. If I miss any more days I will get fired.¡± I say as I rise from my seat, trying to hide the loss of my appetite.

    ¡°Is it even safe for you to go in?¡± Aloe asks.

    ¡°Yeah, why wouldn¡¯t it be?¡± I responded to Aloe¡¯s question with one of my own.

    ¡°Maybe because they have everyone looking for someone missing a finger.¡± She says as she points to my bandaged hand.

    She has a point, if my finger was fully healed I could maybe blend in with all the other veterans missing body parts, but even then I can¡¯t just gaslight my coworkers that I had always been missing a finger.

    ¡°Here take this.¡± Bastion says as he hands me something.

    In the palm of my hand is a fake looking prosthetic finger.

    ¡°How am I supposed to convince people that this isn¡¯t a fake? This thing looks like a toy.¡± I ask Bastion

    ¡°I¡¯ll attach it for you, and you aren¡¯t gonna be convincing anyone, you only have to not draw any attention to yourself.¡± Bastion says as if this was obvious and I am an idiot for not getting it.

    I only grunt in acceptance as I lend Bastion my hand so he can attach the prosthetic. It takes him a minute or two to attach it to my hand, at first glance it appears like a regular finger, only after the second glance does it clearly look fake.

    ¡°Well I guess I''m off.¡± I turn to walk away and I feel a tug at my shirt.

    I look back and see Aloe tugging at my shirt, the look on her eyes is confusing to me, it is a mixture of anxiety and something else I can¡¯t comprehend.

    ¡°B-be careful and get back safe.¡± Aloe says quietly but clearly.

    Again I am at a loss, I feel my breath leave my body, and my mind goes blank to any kind of response. For a few seconds I stand stunned, Aloe¡¯s face looks confused and embarrassed before I finally think of a response.

    ¡°A-aint that cute.¡± I say while slightly breaking my cool with a stutter.

    ¡°Why you!¡± Aloe yells, abandoning her previous tone.

    I laugh, forgetting my stress for a second as I rush out of the door, before I shut the door behind me I look back and see a look of relief on the face of Bastion, I pause for a second, then shut the door.

    Almost instantly after shutting the door I feel the bad feelings loom over me, shrouding me in the darkness of my true reality. I purposefully take a deep breath in an attempt to calm my mind from something beyond my understanding of myself. I walk down the dim hallway and towards the exit, before I can open the door to get out, it opens as someone rushes inside. A frail old man stumbles through the door, not because he is injured but because he walks without any cane when he clearly needs one, he looks at me with that kind of suspicion and weariness that old people look at every stranger with. Due to my situation this look fills me with even more anxiety.

    ¡°Excuse me.¡± I say as I rush out of the door.

    It is midday, the streets are without crowds as most people are at work, the odd person can be seen window shopping, maybe some old people on their daily walks, but on a weekday like today it is relatively empty out, especially compared to the crowds at night, and on the weekends. I usually go to work around this time, due to the part time nature of my government provided work. After taking in the state of the city at this time, I start to make my way to work, seeing as I am not in an unfamiliar part of the city, I know my way to work.

    I walk past the empty bars that are still open at this time, they don¡¯t contain the crowds of drunk people making dirty jokes, or the odd splash of alcohol on your face that came from seemingly nowhere. They are completely dead, some contain one or two people having a quick meal, or the odd alcoholic drinking at this time of the day. One bar sticks out from the rest of them, the words ¡°Artenian Bull¡± written on a sign that pokes out of the side of the building, designed for people walking down the sidewalk to see it. The name only serves as a stark reminder of what I have done, and it only makes my urges harder to hold back. Images flash in my mind, the young men I killed for no real reason in The War, and those damned assassins in the bar. For reasons beyond my control I have only taken the lives of Artenians, but during The War I felt urges towards everyone who got on my bad side, the mere notion of it being illegal to harm people from our side was the only thing that kept me from doing it at times.

    I hurry past the dead bar, trying to push down everything I feel currently, and before I know it, I am standing at the front door of my workplace, the words ¡°Eccacia Times¡± are sprawled on the sign, only a few steps away from the bar.

    I look down at my hand and the prosthetic finger, I remember the feeling I felt during that day, when Aloe felt helpless and she cried for help, and how I lost my finger through my own actions, my first injury since I got drafted into The War. The pain only further brought out the shadow of a killer from within me, and the feeling of euphoria after I was able to satiate the urge I pushed so far down that I forgot it was even there. With my finger being gone, I now have something to remind me of these urges, and it dawns on me that I probably will never be able to push these urges down with such a constant reminder. The day before me only appears more intimidating, and I have no certainty on whether or not I can even make it without giving in again.

 Chapter 8 - A Normal Day of Work

    Chapter 8 - A Normal Day of Work

    ¡°Welcome back Zee, did you have a nice break?¡± The manager questions me with a forced smile on his face.

    ¡°Ye-¡± The manager cuts me off before I can even answer him.

    ¡°I would care how your fucking break was if you told me about it before hand, you old damn crook!¡± The manager screams at me.

    I am not unfamiliar with being scolded, in fact that is the way me and the manager interact most of the time, but now I feel like breaking his nose, or maybe even gouging his eye out with my dumb prosthetic finger.

    ¡°Sorry sir.¡± I say submitting to his authority, and also hiding my true desires, that is to harm him.

    ¡°Whatever, I can¡¯t just fire a damn vet now can I? You fight a war and all of a sudden you get immunity for a few years, but hell, I can¡¯t wait til everyone forgets about you pointless old, fucking crooks!¡± My manager screams at me as he turns to walk back to his office that is separated from the medium sized room of cubicles.

    I am not surprised by his words. He just vocalized a harsh reality, everywhere we vets turn there are people treating us like heroes, but behind it all they cannot wait for a time where they can stop treating us like we are important, they can¡¯t wait to forget about our sacrifices.

    ¡°Damn Zee, that was harsh.¡± A familiar female voice says to me.

    ¡°Oh, hey Deb, been a while.¡± I say to her.

    ¡°Yeah no shit, where have you been man?¡± Deb says to me with a look of concern on her face.

    I pause, only now do I realize that I haven''t thought of any kind of cover story for my absence, in only a few seconds her face changes from interested to concerned, until an understanding yet uncaring look is painted onto her face, she can clearly see that I am thinking of a lie to tell her.

    ¡°Well, no need to lie. If you can¡¯t say why I don¡¯t give a damn.¡± Deb says to me while patting my shoulder.

    Deb is the closest thing I have to a friend in my life as a civilian, we don¡¯t really talk outside of work, but she is nice to me compared to everyone else. I think she had a family member pass away during the War, she mentioned it to me in passing once, she said it was a young man who looked just like her, blonde hair and blue eyes, she said I remind her of him so she respects me to that extent. She never asks about my time in The War, but for some reason it is like she knows me, minus all the horrible things I did during The War. But I can¡¯t shake the feeling that she knows me from somewhere, because if she didn¡¯t, I feel like she would have never even spoken to me in the first place.

    ¡°I should get to work.¡± I say plainly as I walk towards the chair I am so familiar with.

    ¡°You¡¯re as nonchalant as always.¡± Deb says as she giggles her way to her cubicle.

    I sit in my chair and am greeted by a stack of papers. My only job here is to sort through eye witness accounts submitted to our paper, things like crimes or mildly interesting occurrences, and choose the ones worth putting into the paper. This essentially means that I spend my whole day reading through a bunch of rubbish, and only occasionally find something worth even attempting to put into the daily paper.

    I flip the stack of papers upside down to ensure that I am reading the reports that came in first. The first few reports are about as uninteresting as I expected, I am practically throwing them in the trash at record speeds. A few minutes of me trashing report after report goes by, until the title of one catches my eye.

    ¡°The Fingerless Traitor.¡± I whisper to myself, reading the title of the account.

    The report was written by the guy that me and Aloe had a run in with, I guess after the news this morning revealed the High Order to the public he wrote about his experience with Aloe and me. He writes about everything he knows about me, how I was never harmed and the things I did during the war. The man I know nothing about somehow knows so much about me, just based around my reputation amongst soldiers. For the hot head he appeared to be, he wrote very clearly, he stated that I was with Aloe the day it happened, he wrote about my physical abilities and how I am capable of killing people, even outnumbered. On top of all of it, he name drops me at the end of his well written report.

    This is bad, even though it is just an accusation, people will buy it before they even look into proof. But I seem to have finally got my single stroke of luck, with the account landing on my desk out of all of the other desks. I have to make sure no one sees this.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Hmm I remember setting this on your desk. So, who¡¯s this fingerless bastard?¡± My manager says as he reads the report from over my shoulder.

    It''s over, I jumped in reaction to him suddenly being behind me, I had my guard down again and my manager completely snuck behind me. He begins to read the paper out loud, something he does all the time when one of us finds something worth putting into the paper.

    ¡°Lucky bastard huh? Killed dozens during the war, and fully capable of killing some royals in a bar, hmm never been injured before?¡± The Manager summarizes the parts of the account that he finds interesting, and reads them aloud.

    I yank the paper out of sight as he starts to get to the end of it, where my name is.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing you bastard!¡± The manager yells at me.

    ¡°T-this story is no good!¡± I yell, unable to hide my nervousness.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be the judge of that, hand it over!¡± The manager orders me.

    This isn¡¯t good, I start to crumble the paper before a couple of my coworkers grab me by the arms and force the paper out of my hand.

    ¡°Hey! No need to get violent!¡± Deb yells as she makes her way towards the commotion.

    ¡°I swear you vets and your outbursts.¡± The manager says in a satisfied voice, finally able to express his disdain towards me due to my sudden outburst, something I have never done before.

    ¡°The name of this lucky bastard, and traitor to the royal family¡­¡± The manager pauses as he looks at me with a shocked look, ¡°Zebedee Levin¡± He says out loud as his gaze shifts to my hand.

    ¡°N-no.¡± I stutter, unable to conjure an excuse, or defend myself.

    The room goes silent, as if they are unsure how to react, everyone looks at my hand in an attempt to see if I am missing a finger.

    ¡°H-hey, this guy has a fake finger! Look!¡± The coworker holding my right arm raises it and yanks the prosthetic finger from my hand, revealing my missing finger.

    Half the office lets out a huge gasp, and the other half is silent in shock.

    ¡°Z-Zee, that is just from the war right?¡± Deb says, in denial of the reality of the situation.

    It is only now that I realized I should have never come back to work, I should have listened to Aloe¡¯s warning. Trying to cling onto the boringly average life I led was always a pipe dream, and wearing a prosthetic was a dumb plan, one that I am sure Bastion already knew was dumb, but for some reason went along with. Thoughts of what my life will be from now on start to flash in my mind, If I will be sent to the infamous Fortress D¡¯if or if I will be put to death, as those are the only two possibilities for a traitor of the royal family. For some reason I want to accept it all, I don¡¯t want to struggle any more, I belonged either behind bars or dead before all of these accusations, for everything I did during The War.

    ¡°Yeah, I am the third person, I am a traitor to the royal family.¡± I say, no longer nervous or stuttering, but entirely resolute.

    The room is silent again, I look towards Deb who is shocked with everyone else but has a hint of worry in her expression.

    ¡°S-someone get the cops here!¡± The manager screams.

    Thinking back to the last couple weeks, I see the new people I met, to the resurfacing of my urges, and ultimately to Angela. Did she really have something to do with this? Would she be so cruel to the point of ordering the death of two of her sisters, and others who thought fondly of her? Can I go away and be satisfied with never knowing why this all happened? I never thought I would see her again, and now I am about to be arrested for her kidnapping, and a plot I had nothing to do with. This isn''t fair, I realize that now, but what can I do? Kill all my coworkers? It would be easy, but just because some of them are assholes to me doesn¡¯t justify their deaths, I would have nothing to cling onto a supposed innocence, like during The War, when I was ordered to kill. Is my own well being enough to justify what I want to do?

    ¡°Oh this is big! We might get paid big bucks for turning you in.¡± The manager starts to brag.

    Suddenly I get the chills, I look towards Deb again, she is still shocked, but I can see now that she must really care about me for some reason. This really isn¡¯t fair. These people don¡¯t care about justice, they only care about how full their pockets are.

    ¡°Deb¡­¡± I call out.

    ¡°Y-yeah?¡± Deb answers my call, a hint of fear in her voice.

    ¡°Thanks for trying to be my friend. I am sorry, but you had the wrong idea about me.¡± I say as I plunge my fist into the mouth of my manager, teeth fly out into the open air.

    The manager falls back and holds his mouth as blood begins to leak between his fingers and down his chin. I pick up a pen, ready to plunge it into his neck, I walk towards him and he crawls backwards on the floor in an attempt to get away from me. Everyone is standing around, reaching a new level of shock, unable to move or stand against me, I am no longer their silent coworker. No, I am now a murderer in their eyes. They all know that I am gonna kill the manager, but they instinctively know that they can do nothing about it, so they just stand there, waiting for it to happen.

    ¡°Zee stop!¡± The voice of Deb, the only person that has been kind to me in this job, calls out to me.

    The sound of her voice is desperate, and for some reason when I hear her call out to me, I realize that I cannot kill the manager, this is not justified, no matter how shitty he is to me. Before I know it I am bursting through the exit and running through the familiar hall towards the building exit. The muffled screams of my manager telling them to catch me and to not let me get away can be heard throughout the whole hallway, but I continue running, and no one follows me. I emerge onto the street only about fifteen minutes after I arrived at work and I look towards the direction I came from, back towards the home of Bastion, but I know I can¡¯t lead anyone back there. I only have one place to go, and that is my own home.

    I start running down the street as I hear someone call out to me, I look back and see Deb yelling at me from the window of our office.

    ¡°Zebedee! Thank you for being friends with my Paul!¡± She shouts out to me from the window.

    Suddenly I remember back to a conversation I had with Paul, my young friend from the war, even if it was for a brief time near the end of the war. That conversation I had with Paul back then, when we were both writing letters, He talked about his sister being his only family, and he told me that he was writing to his sister about me, saying that I am his first ever friend, and that he was excited for his sister to finally know that he was capable of having friend. He did mention her name, but I guess that didn¡¯t really stick with me, but now I know why she was being nice to me this whole time.

    Deb starts to cry, finally able to speak to me as the friend of her brother, not just the nonchalant veteran she worked with. I don¡¯t say anything back to her, I don¡¯t know what I could even say, I just turn and continue running as the memory of Paul¡¯s demise enters my mind again, the gruesomeness of it, just like me, the world was unfair to Paul. Tears flow down my cheeks and along with my hurried footsteps, I can hear my own whimpers, and I am unable to stop them for once.

    Where did it all go wrong? Why do people like me and Paul have to suffer the unjust and unfair nature of this world? Why¡­ just why?

 Chapter 9 - The Cat and The Mouse

    Chapter 9 - The Cat and The Mouse

    The familiar building that is my apartment building shines like a beacon in the distance, with every step I get closer and closer to the home I have not returned to since that night. I¡¯m shoving people out of my way and knocking things over as I run, and I finally make it to my front door. I stare at the knob, again I am reminded of the last time I saw it, when I got home that night, when everything was average and nothing interesting was happening in my life, I still desire to go back to that life, but as I turn the knob to enter my apartment I know that that is completely impossible.

    It is weird looking into my apartment, completely unchanged from that night, my half empty beer cans, the recliner, even the window was still open from that night. My fridge with all the beer still remains at the front door, just like back then I find it irresistible as I open it up and grab a can of beer. I crack it open and the sound of the seal being broken, and the carbonation being rapidly released from the can fill my ears, and gives me a satisfaction I craved for a while now. I take a huge gulp of the beer, ignoring the burning sensation in my mouth and throat. There is no time to fully enjoy the beer, I grab my duffel bag I kept stored away in the closet by my front door and start shoving all my stuff into it, including the pistol I snuck back with me from The War, even stuffing a few beers alongside all my essentials. Just when I thought I was on track to get out of my apartment unnoticed, the sound of a bunch of cars can be heard on the street below, the tires screeching and the doors opening up and closing rapidly, then a bunch of boots stomping all around. I can hear the static and clamoring of the speaker phone that police tend to use, and then a voice.

    ¡°Ahem¡­¡± a man clears his voice before speaking, ¡°Zebedee Levin, you have been named as a suspect in the kidnapping of Princess Angela, and also as an accomplice of the plot against our royal family, you are far outnumbered so please come out without a fight so all these people can get back home to their families.¡± The man on the speaker says calmly.

    I peek out of my window to see the situation down there only to see just how outnumbered I really am, dozens of police vehicles, and double, maybe triple the amount of officers per car flooding the street below. The man on the speaker seemed to have spotted me peeking at them as he speaks again.

    ¡°I can see you in there Lieutenant, it¡¯s me Garen, your old Sargent, now the new police chief of the Capital City. Come on out and make this easy, son.¡± The man says while looking directly at me.

    Sargent Garen was in fact my Sargent, but it¡¯s more than that, as he was my instructor in the Early Development program, he trained me in every form of combat that I know. I haven¡¯t seen him since the war, and I wanted to keep it that way, but I never knew he became the police chief. I guess in a time where war is no longer commonplace, people in power just shift to other occupations where they can keep their power and sense of superiority over others..

    ¡°Fucking shit.¡± I say while slapping my knees in frustration.

    I chug the rest of my beer and start to look around my room for any kind of escape. I can¡¯t leave through the hall, or any window, that only leaves one way out, going up. There is an unusually large vent on my ceiling. I yank it open, stripping the screw holes that held it in place. The vent obviously leads to the whole ventilation system, going throughout the rooms, and if I¡¯m lucky, a big ol exit on the rooftop. I jump into the vent while hauling my duffel bag with me, and as I crawl through the vents I can see into all the other rooms, which mostly are dark or unoccupied. As I crawl I see into a room with all the lights on, a couple peek out of their window, seemingly concerned about all the police on the street.

    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± The man in the room says in confusion.

    ¡°Just when we were gonna end the dry spell too.¡± The woman says, causing the both of the to sorrowfully giggle.

    ¡°Yikes.¡± I say under my breath.

    I crawl past that room and up ahead there seems to be an exit vent. I kick it open and crawl out onto the rooftop. The roof of my apartment building is connected to another building and that building is connected to another, creating a row of buildings that all connect to each other. Garen is still calling out to me on the speaker. I take a peek over the ledge and am instantly knocked backwards as a stinging pain engulfs the left side of my head, and warm, thick blood starts to rapidly leak down my face.

    ¡°Ah ah ah, not so fast Lieutenant, if you¡¯re not gonna surrender then we¡¯ll have to take you by force, dead or alive.¡± He says in a calm voice over the speaker.

    ¡°Kick fucking rocks old man!¡± I yell in response almost out of instinct.

    Sargent Garen taught us to insult our enemies, he practically drilled it into our psyche, and it reflected in the way our units were perceived by Artenian Forces, we were seen as foul mouthed and dishonorable, but it was a way to get into the minds of our enemies and I instinctively tried the tactic on the man that taught it to me over the course of a few years.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Sargent Garen burst out laughing at my remark, and he continued to laugh as I grappled over the ledge leading onto the next rooftop, before I could get so far before the only door on the roof top burst open and two regular looking police officers rushed onto the rooftop.

    ¡°Zebedee Levin, you are under arrest!¡± The taller of the two officers says as he charges at me.

    ¡°Whoops! I don¡¯t think so!¡± I say as I dodge him and make a break for the next rooftop.

    The second officer grabs my shirt and with the force of me running, it partially tears my sleeve, but he still gets a grip on me and halts my sprint.

    ¡°There''s nowhere to run! Just stop and face justice!¡± The shorter cop says while struggling to keep hold of me.

    ¡°Justice?¡± I scoff.

    Suddenly my vision goes white and a stinging pain engulfs my entire face, but mainly my nose. I look up towards the two officers and it is clear that the taller one struck me in the face with a baton. An attack that I would never get caught by during the war, it is clear that all this discourse in my life and mind have made me¡­ weaker. At the very best, I can stand one on one with almost anyone, but besides the moments where I black out like at the bar, I keep getting caught by things that would never catch me just a couple years ago.

    ¡°Like I said, you are under arrest!¡± The tall officer starts to grab his cuffs.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t fucking justice!¡± I say as I lunge towards the tall officer.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± The short officer screams in an attempt to warn the tall officer.

    The tall officer lets out a yelp as he realizes almost instantly that I overpower him, I start to punch him, and he raises his arms to protect his face so I punch his ribs, he coughs as the air leaves his lungs.

    ¡°H-help m-me!¡± The tall officer struggles to call out to his partner who is just standing still, completely shocked.

    He drops his hands as the pain in his ribcage sets in, so I start to wail on his face, and I can see his consciousness fade with every blow, and blood begins to pour from his nose and mouth and splatters all over my fists. The shorter officer seems to have snapped out of his shock as he grabs my arm and cuffs me to himself. He attempts to swallow the key; a valiant attempt to make my escape impossible, but I grab his neck with my hand that was cuffed to his own.

    ¡°Ah ah ah, Not so fast.¡± I say plainly.

    I attempt to pry his jaw open to no avail. So I start to punch him in the nose, and as he yelps in pain I reach into his throat with my free hand, and pull the key out by force. With my chances of escape all but guaranteed, I no longer need to cause him any unnecessary pain, so I strike him in the jaw with my full force, knocking him out. As his body falls I am yanked downward by my cuffed wrist.

    ¡°Sorry friend, I know you¡¯re only doing your job.¡± I say as I unlock the cuff, freeing my wrist.

    ¡°You¡¯ll never escape. You are a traitor, you''ll never make it out of this.¡± The tall officer says, barely conscious.

    The officer that stood tall and proud now lies bloodied and barely conscious, and though he is committing an injustice against me, he has been brainwashed by this damn country to think that I am a traitor, that is to say that he is utterly ignorant. To an extent I feel relieved, because I don¡¯t feel an urge to end his life, despite the annoyance of being accused of treason, at the very least I know that I can draw a line subconsciously, and the pit that is my urges is not completely bottomless. Still, the annoyance remains.

    ¡°Well, I ain¡¯t a damn traitor, and you know what? I¡¯ll get out of here with your help.¡± I say as an idea pops into my head.

    The tall officer tries to resist me, and it isn¡¯t his fault that we are around the same height, but his uniform is the perfect disguise for my escape, he tries to claw at me, not just to stop me from stealing his uniform, but also because he has to have realized that I have a chance to escape, so he is trying with all his might to stop me. It becomes more annoying as valuable time goes to waste. I strike his jaw and put him to sleep in an instant, and in another moment, I am walking through the door that they burst through not five minutes ago, while also wearing one of their uniforms.

    ¡°H-hello? Zebedee? Did those two get him or did they fuck up?¡± Sargent Garen says, unintentionally talking into the speaker and allowing me to hear.

    ¡°I think we would have known if they succeeded sir¡­¡± A faint voice can be heard through the speaker.

    ¡°Fuck! So much for former special forces!¡± Sargent Garen yells.

    ¡°Special forces? They hardly put up a fight.¡± I say under my breath as I walk right by Sargent Garen and all the officers now scrambling on the street in an attempt to locate me.

    Escape successful.

    The chaos serves as great camouflage so I blend in with all the officers and escape into an alleyway. The alley is familiar but I can¡¯t put my finger on it.

    ¡°Oh right.¡± I say

    This is the same alley that I followed Angela and her two servants into all those nights ago, it¡¯s crazy how a few weeks can feel like so long ago. My situation seems to have hit me again, somehow I am Eccacia¡¯s most wanted when I only meant to reunite with my old friend a few weeks ago. Even now I wonder¡­ I wonder what exactly I did to deserve persecution from my own country, what I did to get caught in the middle of a coup and ultimately a mass assaination attempt. In just one day I was forced to reawaken something within me that lay dormant for some time, and now I have to struggle daily. I have no idea what I am, or what I will be capable of with these urges and feelings that have no place outside of a war. Even then these confusing topics surrounding myself are trumped by those that surround my old friend, Angela. What has become of her? Still, at this very moment in this alleyway where I finally got to see her again, where she called my name once more, still I wonder if she is really capable of ordering the death of family and friends that were with her this whole time that we were apart, and probably before we ever even met. I wonder if she is responsible, how she feels about the idea of those people dying bloody, and I also wonder if she knows now what her actions have caused. I wonder if she knows how I am suffering at this very moment.

    In what I would have considered treason to my values during The War, I can only think of one thing towards the one person who I relied on this whole time, and the one person that all this horrible shit points to. Of course that person is Angela, and all I can think towards her is ¡°Damn you¡±, not just for leaving me in the void all these years, but for putting me in this situation, truly in this moment I damn you, Angela.

 Chapter 9.5 - Letter 45

    Chapter 9.5 - Letter 45

    ¡°Sis!¡± The voice of the young Aloe calls out to Angela through her door.

    Angela has locked herself in her room, she has remained there all day everyday for weeks, this is the result of the harsh, and resentful letters that her old friend Zebedee has been sending her.

    ¡°Maybe this one is a nice letter! You never know!¡± Aloe tries to convince Angela to open up her door.

    Aloe holds an unopened letter in her hand as she tries her hardest to get through to her sister, she knows of the harsh letters as she always somehow gets her hands on the letters that the young Zebedee had been sending all this time. The last few are full of resentful words towards her sister, for many reasons but mostly because she hasn¡¯t been sending letters back to him all this time, and Aloe doesn¡¯t even have the slightest clue to the reason why she hasn¡¯t either.

    ¡°Well if you aren¡¯t gonna open up I guess I will have to read it to you myself!¡± Aloe shouts as she realizes that Angela won¡¯t open up.

    Aloe gently opens the letter, she thinks back to the previous 43 letters that the young man has sent her sister, never mentioning the likes of her or the royal family that they both belong to, all he talks about is The War and the things they got up to as kids. She feels close to the young man through the letters, as he describes the harsh conditions of The War, and though he has a rough style of writing, she can always feel his emotions clearly through his words. So over time she started to treat the letter with a level of respect, and she even goes back to reread them, in a way you can call her a fan of his.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Aloe clears her throat as she begins to read.

    ¡°Letter forty four, Hello again Angy, that marks the forty fourth greeting that you have ignored, but that obviously doesn¡¯t matter much to you. Guess what? More fucking people died, not that you care again, I can¡¯t believe you-¡± Aloe stops reading as the letter continues to get more and more aggressive.

    Angela never muttered a sound, and Aloe just stood outside her door, silent and regretful. Aloe decided to just leave the letter on the floor, The frustration she felt through the letter ruined her mood, and even though the words were not directed to her, she felt disrespected by the pretentious words, and for the first time ever she felt annoyed towards the young man, whom she had never even met.

    ¡°What a fucking tool.¡± Aloe mutters as she skips down the hall, forgetting everything almost instantly, returning to her coddled life as a princess of the royal family.

    This letter was the last angry letter that Zebedee ever sent to Angela, he would spend almost every moment after sending the letter in regret and embarrassment. Due to shortages in spare paper he was not able to send a letter apologizing for over a year, and when he was finally able to send that letter, the person he was sending it to already underwent a massive change. This change was due to the peace talks between Eccacia and Artenia being finalized, and the marriage between Angela and Dane being set in stone, which would end up changing the course of young Zebedee¡¯s life, before he even knew it. The War would continue to be waged for another year despite these peace talks, and Zebedee would lose friends back and forth completely unknowing of this fact, but if he did know he surely would have truly become a traitor long before his country considered him one.

 Chapter 9.6 - In The Eyes of The Remedy

    Chapter 9.6 - In The Eyes of The Remedy

    ¡°Perpetrator has escaped his apartment and is currently on the loose and on the run!¡± The news anchor says on TV.

    Aloe is sitting on the edge of the bed with concern, because just an hour ago Zebedee left for work, and now his face is plastered all over the news.

    ¡°He shouldn¡¯t have gone.¡± Aloe says to Bastion, who is standing right behind her watching the TV with her.

    ¡°Someone like him will never listen to the people around him, if we tried to stop him we would have just gotten him closer to breaking, best for his own actions and decisions to break him.¡± Bastion says in a frank tone.

    ¡°That is a really fucked up thing to do Doc, he has been through a lot because of us and he doesn¡¯t know the half of it.¡± Aloe says while shoving Bastion with light force.

    On the TV the police chief Garen starts to talk to the people of Eccacia and the Capital City, the look on his face appears to Aloe as concerned, yet fake, as if he is only acting to care as much as his words paint him to.

    ¡°Lieutenant Levin, or Zebedee Levin is the Fingerless Traitor to the royal family, and I will catch him. He has taken the life of an officer and stolen his uniform, this only makes the reality of what he is more clear. He is a monster, and a traitor. Be on the lookout, but do not approach him if you see him, this man is a dangerous killer, be safe people.¡± Police Chief Garen walks out of view of the camera.

    Aloe is in shock at the revelation that Zebedee killed a man who is effectively innocent, she initially is struggling to believe this, but she thinks back on the time at the bar, when his energy shifted from one moment to the next, how the shivering veteran turned into the brutal killer he was during The War, the one he described himself as in all those letters she snuck into her sisters room to read. She remembers how he smiled and mocked the people as they were screaming in pain, as he toyed with them before ending their lives, and she remembers how easily he shifted back to being the concerned person, the person who saved Shira before saving himself. To say she is conflicted would not be accurate, instead she tries to think of a reason as to why he would feel like he needed to kill a police officer, in that sense, she struggles.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Suddenly she hears a commotion in the hall outside of the apartment, and Bastion rushes to go check what is going on, and in what can only be called perfect timing, Shira awakes from her coma.

    ¡°S-sis, what¡­¡± Shira strains her throat in an attempt to speak.

    ¡°Hey hey, don¡¯t talk just yet, your throat must be dry.¡± Aloe says softly as she gets up from the bed and walks out of the room.

    When Aloe leaves the room she hears light knocks on the door, and sees Bastion standing by the door with a troubled look on his face.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Aloe questions Bastion, noticing the look on his face.

    Bastion sighs, as if he already knows how this situation will pan out, but this only further causes Aloe to sink into confusion.

    ¡°It¡¯s the young man.¡± Bastion says as he walks away from the door.

    ¡°What?! Why haven¡¯t you let him inside?¡± Aloe says as she runs to the door.

    ¡°I dunno, maybe cause he¡¯s burnt and probably led the whole fucking police force to my doorstep, which is kind of a problem since you know I am legally dead and all.¡± Bastion complains while looking away from Aloe, but as he sees her running to the door he realizes she hasn¡¯t heard a single word he has said.

    ¡°Whatever I guess.¡± Bastion says under his breath.

    Aloe grabs the door knob and thinks about what Zebedee¡¯s face might look like, if it will be panicked and scared, or if he will be calm and collected yet slightly off balance, of course these are normal reactions to such a situation. She doesn¡¯t keep herself guessing as she turns the knob and opens the door. She is shocked to see what his expression turned out to be, he is completely out of breath, and drenched in sweat, and the police uniform he stole is in complete disarray as it is wet sporadically throughout and the collar is completely unbuttoned. Even when everything else about him seems in line with the situation, his expression is slightly¡­ joyful.

 Chapter 10 - Trust

    Chapter 10 - Trust

    Aloe stared at me with a strange expression on her face, like she shifted between relief and shock, to even fear. She stood at the doorway not quite letting me in, and remained still without saying anything at all. The silence completely put a halt to all the chaos that filled my mind, to the point where I can only focus my eyes on Aloe, and wait for her to speak to me, or move aside and let me into the door; she appears as if she is considering just shutting the door in my face completely. The silence is broken by Bastion clearing his throat out of my view, but he walks into view of the doorway; Aloe still has her gaze completely fixated onto me.

    ¡°So how was work?¡± Bastion says with a snarky voice as he turns and walks out of view from the doorway again.

    Aloe chuckles almost instinctively at the snarky remark from Bastion. She looks towards the ground as she gets her laugh out, then looks back up to me, the expression on her face once fearful is now soft, and calm.

    ¡°Well, can¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you. Hurry in.¡± Aloe says while making space for me to walk into the apartment.

    I partly feared that I would just be thrown to the curb, I was burnt, and I have become a danger to just be around, so the logical thing to do would be to abandon me and let me fend for myself. But these two aren¡¯t doing that, they are welcoming me as if I had not just escaped the entire police force, and as if I haven''t become the most wanted person in Eccacia, and especially the Capital City.

    That makes me feel strange, I have not felt this kind of strangeness for a while, not since Paul back in The War, and not since Angela way before him.

    ¡°Thanks, Aloe and Bastion.¡± I say as I enter the apartment with my eyes glued to the floor.

    ¡°For what? We are all in the same boat now.¡± Bastion says

    I look towards Bastion and then to Aloe, they both have understanding looks on their faces, full of compassion and kindness, and that alone provides me with enough security to at least trust them for the moment.

    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right about that.¡± I say while letting out a light laugh.

    Aloe¡¯s expression suddenly shifts into concern, she looks at me as if she is analyzing my movement, or my face.

    ¡°Zee¡­ I have to ask.¡± She says and pauses again.

    ¡°W-well?¡± I ask in response to her silence.

    ¡°On the news, they said you killed a policeman¡­¡± She says, not exactly a question but still seeking an answer.

    ¡°What?!¡± I yell.

    Aloe flinches and I almost instantly calm down, not wanting to scare her. Still I am sure I didn''t kill anyone, I would never kill someone who didn¡¯t deserve it. Still the doubt is creeping up on me. Did I go too far? Did my fight with the two police officers result in a death and I didn''t realize? No, that can¡¯t be, that has never happened before, I have never unknowingly taken a life, but still. What if?

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t.¡± I say, my voice carrying the same doubt I have in my mind, and Bastion along with Aloe don¡¯t exactly look convinced.

    ¡°Well, I suppose that¡¯s good enough.¡± Bastion says as he lightly shakes Aloe by the shoulder.

    Aloe¡¯s expression is particularly unsure, she is doubting me, and I don¡¯t blame her for it.

    ¡°Aloe.¡± The voice of Shira calls out from the only bedroom in the apartment.

    I look at Aloe, the look on my face probably a mix of shock and confusion and she forces a smile.

    ¡°She woke up not even 5 minutes ago.¡± Aloe says as she turns and walks to the room, she closes the door behind her.

    With Aloe gone it is just me and Bastion in the living room, a shadow of awkwardness dawns upon the room.

    ¡°She may not believe you, but she wants to trust you, that should be worth something.¡± Bastion breaks the silence.

    ¡°What do you think then? Do you think I killed an officer?¡± I ask almost aggressively.

    Bastion squints at me, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

    ¡°What do I think? I think Aloe has hope when you are with her, I think despite the obvious fact that you are a psycho product of war, she still wants to believe you aren¡¯t capable of killing an innocent.¡± Bastion says.

    I look towards the ground and Bastion continues.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re dangerous, I can see it in your eyes, you enjoy this kind of chaos, even if you don¡¯t wanna believe it¡­ but, I don¡¯t think you killed that police officer, I know the way this country works their magic, that announcement was practically a theater performance.¡± Bastion says, he walks towards me and I look up toward him, that same compassionate look in his eyes as before.

    ¡°Son, you¡¯ve been disgraced by this country.¡± He says and I look at the floor again.

    Suddenly I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. I realize that no one has ever recognized what me, or any other person who went through Early Development and The War, has had to go through after it was all said and done. The scars it all left are not like physical ones, they don¡¯t just fade over time, they stay in the same state forever. For the first time someone told me, out loud, the truth.

    ¡°Disgraced.¡± I say under my breath while trying to hold back the tears.

    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t use it as an excuse! Just like me you were disgraced, but you have a responsibility to people now, don¡¯t go dying or causing chaos!¡± Bastion says in reference to Aloe.

    His words snap me out of my chaotic mindset before it can even take form, he is right, I can¡¯t just go down the deep end right now. Aloe needs me, and I need her, we both need each other in order to make it through this fucked up situation.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. Sorry, sometimes I need someone to snap me back to reality. Thank you, Bastion.¡± I say while looking at the floor.

    ¡°Son, you need to start snapping yourself back to reality, do not force that responsibility on Aloe, she doesn¡¯t deserve that burden.¡± Bastion says with a stern voice.

    Bastion, despite being a compassionate person, is rightfully more concerned for Aloe¡¯s well being.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, again.¡± I say while letting out a defeated chuckle.

    Bastion puts his hand on my shoulder and smiles, and for some reason I think back to my Dad. I have not seen him in so long, he went to fight in the war a few months before I got drafted into Early Development, and I never saw him again, but Bastion just reminded me of him. He would always pat my shoulder and reassure me with a smile, and I would always burst into tears. Before I knew it the tears started to flow freely.

    Bastion has a satisfied look on his face.

    ¡°The hell. Why are you crying, Zee?¡± Aloe says from behind me.

    Aloe stands at the doorway looking confused, and behind her I can see Sheera sitting up on the bed, also looking towards me, but she doesn¡¯t look as confused as Aloe.

    ¡°H-huh? Oh! No reason.¡± I say as I turn away from her and wipe my tears away.

    Bastion lets out a light chuckle before he begins to speak.

    ¡°Aloe, there is something you need to hear.¡± Bastion says.

    Aloe¡¯s expression shifts from confusion to a look of concentration, as if the tone of Bastion''s voice has a hint of authority.

    ¡°I know you want to spend some time with your sister, her just waking up and all, but Zee here has caused quite the stir.¡± He looks at me.

    ¡°He has got to go, right now. And you¡¯ve a choice to make, young lady.¡± Bastion says.

    Though I am slightly surprised by his words, I kind of already knew this was the reality of my situation.

    ¡°You can stay if you want, but Zee cannot, there is too much heat on us if he stays.¡± Bastion presents Aloe with the choice to stay or go without directly saying it.

    I know that she probably will choose to stay, she has her sister and herself to worry about, and I am the bigger burden. Even so, Aloe seems to be slowly processing what Bastion is saying; she comes to a realization a few seconds after Bastion speaks. Before she says anything, she looks towards Sheera, and Sheera nods while flashing a soft smile. Aloe walks towards me with a look of conviction in her eyes, and as if out of instinct, I take a few steps back in response. Before I can take even more steps back she grabs my hand and pulls me only a few inches from her face. I extend the posture in my back to get some space from her and she looks into my eyes as if she is trying to see into my mind.

    ¡°Zebedee.¡± Aloe says, and I am taken aback from her using my full name.

    ¡°Y-yeah.¡± I say nervously.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like to get hurt, and I keep getting hurt whenever I am around you.¡± She says.

    I can feel myself deflate at her words, I can almost hear her telling me that she cannot go with me before she says it, and she would be totally right to say it.

    ¡°If I go with you, will you be able to protect me?¡± Aloe says.

    My eyes widen at her question, and my mind goes blank before I let out an instinctual response.

    ¡°H-huh? Y-yes of course!¡± I say loudly.

    As the words leave my mouth I can help but feel like I have given her the wrong answer, but before I can even take it back she is already speaking.

    ¡°Well it''s settled then.¡± Aloe says.

    I have a urge to tell her to stay, I know that things will only get harder from now on but the words won¡¯t leave my mouth. At this very moment, the only thing I really want more than anything is for Aloe to go with me, despite the assured hardships that lie before me, and despite me not being totally sure if I can protect her, all I want is for our time together to continue. Still I feel like I have to tell her that she should stay.

    ¡°W-wait-¡± I stutter and Aloe cuts me off.

    ¡°I know what you are gonna say, so don¡¯t. I made my decision, I am no use to anyone if I stay here, so let''s get the hell out of here.¡± Aloe says to me while looking directly into my eyes.

    I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes again, and Aloe smiles.

    ¡°Well that certainly settles it. I really want to let you have this moment but time is of the essence, if you¡¯re gonna go, you¡¯ve got to go now.¡± Bastion urges us to leave.

    ¡°W-where do we even begin to escape though?¡± I question him.

    Bastion lets out a frustrated sigh.

    ¡°I swear, why cause so much trouble when you are so clueless?¡± Bastion says to the both of us, but seemingly more to Aloe, as she looks away from him.

    ¡°Okay, a few blocks from here to the east there is a restaurant called ¡®Cow Head Diner¡¯, there is a big guy there who should be wearing a trench coat and a fedora, a real shady looking fellow, sit next to him and say the words ¡®Summertime left as fast as it arrived¡¯ and he¡¯ll understand.¡± Bastion says.

    Aloe nods and seems to buy his advice at face value, but I am not totally convinced.

    ¡°Bastion, who even is this guy? How do you even know he will be there?¡± I question him.

    ¡°He isn¡¯t there right now, you have to go during the night, there is a criminal hideout along the way to the restaurant, there is a knife marked on the door, wait there until nightfall. It¡¯s his job to help people disappear, trust me.¡± Bastion assures me.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t we just wait here?¡± Aloe asks.

    ¡°Because you aren¡¯t safe here, you think that you are the only one who knows I am still alive and living here?¡± A sense of urgency echoes through his voice.

    As if seemingly right on time there is a knock on the front door.

    ¡°M-mistah B-Bastion please o-open up, t-tis an emergency!¡± The familiar nervous voice of Hippie can be heard on the other side of the door.

    Aloe has a conflicted look of relief and fear in her eyes, I imagine I share the same look as I come to the same realization. Another knock on the front door echoes throughout the apartment.

    ¡°Hurry up ya old fool! Miss Angela says ya might be housing a couple troublemakers in ur humble abode!¡± The scratchy voice of Eppie says.

    The two voices I was once relieved to hear that night a couple weeks ago now instills a sense of fear deep into my very core. If Angela really ordered the death of her sister, they surely must be here to finish the job.

 Chapter 11 - Just Not Bad

    Chapter 11 - Just Not Bad

    Bastion urges us into the closet right next to the front door and Aloe pulls me by my arm before I can protest. I halt our momentum and Aloe falls backwards slightly, she looks back towards me with a hint of desperation in her eyes.

    ¡°Zee, there is no time to run, we have to hide, trust me.¡± Aloe whispers an informed warning, and I decide to trust her as I stop pulling back and we both step into the closet.

    Bastion opens the front door the moment the closet door closes, he doesn¡¯t seem to want to keep the two of them waiting. Eppie wastes no time speaking.

    ¡°Bastion, nice seein¡¯ ya!¡± He greets Bastion as if talking to an old friend.

    Bastion doesn¡¯t audibly respond but Eppie lets out a confident chuckle as his brother speaks up.

    ¡°M-mister Bastion, W-we have reason t-to believe that y-you are housing s-some fugitives.¡± Hippie as usual stutters his way through a sentence, but now his voice has a threatening tone that contrasts any other tone I had heard from him before.

    I stop focusing on what I am hearing and I look at Aloe in front of me, she is focused onto me as she is sweating buckets, the look in her eyes speaks millions of words of desperation and fear into my own. I wonder what the two of them possibly had done in the past to get this kind of reaction out of the both of them.

    ¡°N-no-¡± Bastion speaks but is quickly cut off.

    ¡°Do not fuckin lie to us, ya old fool!¡± Eppie shouts as he ditches his previous, more friendly tone.

    Bastion goes silent again but no one is chuckling this time. Even though I cannot see what their expressions are at this moment I can tell why Aloe had a look of desperation in her eyes. The foolish brothers I had seen just a couple weeks ago have another side to them, one that instills fear into others. I guess before now, I thought they were mascots of some kind, but now I realize that they are really royal guards, worthy to be by the side of Angela.

    ¡°Alright old man.¡± Eppie sighs and continues.

    ¡°We know all three of em are here, we ain¡¯t gonna hurt ur girls, but Miss Angela needs us to bring the psycho boy with us.¡± Eppie explains.

    ¡°W-what are you gonna do with him?¡± Bastion stutters through his question.

    ¡°That don¡¯t concern ya, old man. Just tell us where the little maniac is hidin¡¯ and we won¡¯t bother the girls. You know us, we love them just as much as ya.¡± Eppie¡¯s voice starts to pick up in frustration.

    I crack the door to get a look at the scene playing out with my own eyes. I know Bastion is more likely to sell me out if it means Aloe and Sheera are safe, so I have to get a read on the room in order to have a chance of escaping.

    ¡°Who told you I had them?¡± Bastion says, the look on his face is less fearful than I expected.

    ¡°Hippie did I¡¯s not just say the details ain¡¯t his concern? Or did I¡¯s forget to mention that?¡± Eppie asks his brother a rhetorical question.

    ¡°N-No you¡¯s d-definitely d-did-¡± Hippie stutters but is cut off by Eppie.

    ¡°Ya dumbass, that was a rhetoric-¡± Eppie sighs as he stops in the middle of his sentence.

    ¡°Okay, let''s not complicate it no further, where is the boy, Bastion?¡± Eppie says with a sense of finality in his voice.

    Eppie seems to be at the edge of his patience, his back is turned to the closet but I can tell without even looking at his face that Bastion is well out of time to stall. Hippie shifts nervously, sensing something within his brother, and I sense the same¡­ he now has killing intent. Bastion has flashes of nervousness on his otherwise stoic face, he seems to struggle between his options, out of either an unexpected loyalty to me, or distrust in the word of Eppie.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who told you they were here, but they ain¡¯t.¡± Bastion looks at the floor as he gives his final response.

    ¡°Well I¡¯s did warn ya.¡± Eppie says as he pulls out an old looking pistol with a silencer from his waistband.

    Time slows down in my eyes, as it always does in these kinds of situations, I can see it all unfold in front of me. The distance between me and Eppie is not far, but he is fast, and I can¡¯t guarantee Bastion''s life if I intervene, and if I do, I can¡¯t guarantee Aloe¡¯s or Sheera¡¯s. I silently reserve myself, my anger and all, intervening will only serve to endanger Aloe, and I know that Bastion doesn¡¯t want me to risk her life for his. I know that because he is looking right at me, he shakes his head slightly as a way of telling me to stand down. But before I can do just that, I feel pressure in my arm, and looking over to my left I can see Aloe, the same look of desperation that she had at the bar, when her own life was on the line, but this time she is desperate for me to save not her, but a person she holds dear.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Before another thought crosses my mind my impulses take over and I am throwing a kick to the hand of Eppie, that hand that is holding a gun. But as I make contact he fires a shot, the silenced shot still is loud enough to echo throughout the room, but probably not loud enough to alert anyone in the building.

    ¡°NO!¡± Aloe shouts.

    I look to my right and see blood splatter onto the wall and blood pouring out of the ear of Bastion, he is alive. Suddenly a pain shoots across my back and I am forced to my knees by the pain alone, warm blood pours down my back and stains my shirt and pants. I glance behind me and Hippie quickly sheaths a long knife into his waistband.

    ¡°Well well well, the kid was here after all.¡± Eppie says with pleasant surprise.

    Aloe walks slowly out of the closet and speaks.

    ¡°I-I thought you said you knew we were here?¡± Aloe asks and I now realize that Eppie did seem surprised that I was really here.

    ¡°Twas worth a shot, Bastion¡¯s time is up either way, master''s orders. She said y¡¯all might be round here though, so we¡¯s had to try.¡± Eppie explains as his brother stands at his side with a crazed look in his eye.

    With the silenced gun clearly meant for assassinations and them clearly admitting to it, it is all but confirmed that they only really came here to kill Bastion, and the two sisters if they were here, and they only decided to talk because they thought they might find out where I was by questioning Bastion.

    ¡°B-bro, is u-ur hand o-okay?¡± Hippie asks Eppie without breaking eye contact with me.

    ¡°Yeah yeah, calm down we¡¯s need to do this clean.¡± Eppie reassures his brother but spells out a menacing motive for doing so.

    ¡°Clean?¡± I ask.

    ¡°You¡¯s the lucky one, Miss Angela really does want to see ya, but everyone else, sadly they¡¯ve got to go, else things won¡¯t go smoothly with her plan.¡± Eppie explains and then sighs.

    ¡°Well no need to delay th-¡± Eppie is interrupted by my fist cracking his jaw and he stumbles backwards.

    Eppie laughs and everyone is frozen in shock.

    ¡°Damn boy, you¡¯s got me g-¡± Eppie stops speaking as he falls to his knees, unable to stand.

    ¡°Bro!¡± Hippie screams and crouches next to his fallen brother.

    Eppie looks up at me, wide eyed and shocked, he didn¡¯t expect to lose his equilibrium from one punch. Hippie looks at me with an even crazier look in his eyes, but before he can make his move I plant my boot into Eppie¡¯s jaw, and he goes completely out. Hippie throws a well trained kick at me, but he lacks in speed and it slowly sweeps past my face. He reaches for his waist for the knife but I charge at him, expecting him to be slow, I feel my instincts yank me backwards as the knife whizzes past my nose, barely missing me.

    ¡°Y-you¡¯s hurt m-my bro!¡± Hippie yells as the glint of technique he showed fades into disorganized, yet focused rage.

    Hippie charges at me, he attempts to slash at me, lacking the precision he just showed a moment ago. He attempts to stab me and I duck down and throw an uppercut that lands flesh, his jaw is not as durable as Eppie as the one punch is all it took to knock him unconscious. He is standing but unconscious as he falls forward onto me, I shrug him off of me and he face plants onto the hardwood floor. The room is silent until Bastion speaks up.

    ¡°Just what did they do to you?¡± Bastion questions me, probably referring to my time in the military but he gives me no time to answer, he winces as he holds his bleeding ear but continues.

    ¡°We have to go right now! I¡¯ve got a hideout that not even Angela knows about, I¡¯ll take Sheera, but you two need to get on with it. Go now!¡± Bastion orders us.

    ¡°We can¡¯t just leave you in here with these guys!¡± Aloe protests.

    ¡°They¡¯re gonna be out for a while, and whenever they wake up they will not be in any condition to chase after us. I could almost clearly hear their jaws shattering on impact, trust me.¡± Bastion says.

    ¡°Nevertheless, I will grab a few things and get Sheera out of here. You both, be on your way.¡± Bastion reassures Aloe.

    Aloe is seemingly getting ready to protest again so I pull her by her arm.

    ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll be okay!¡± Aloe says while pulling back.

    Bastion smiles.

    ¡°Besides my ear¡­ Of course, young lady.¡± He says as he gives me a slight nod.

    Aloe doesn¡¯t say any more, she whimpers and yanks her arm from my grip and walks out of the front door on her own, and I give Bastion a nod as I follow her. As we finally make it out into the alley way I realize blood is still pouring from my back, but there¡¯s no time to care right now.

    ¡°So, do you have any idea where this criminal hideout is?¡± I ask her as I remember the day we met, and she led me to the bar hideout.

    ¡°I think I do. Never been, but the knife on the door is something I have seen while wandering the alley ways when I was younger.¡± Aloe says, clearly mentally exhausted from everything that has been happening.

    Looking at her leading the way reminds me about the day we met again.

    ¡°W-well, I guess I¡¯m relying on you to lead the way again, Aloe.¡± I say, suddenly overcome by a strange nervousness.

    Aloe doesn¡¯t respond but her shoulders tense up and her walking pace slows down, she speeds up almost instantly and continues to lead the way.

    ¡°H-here it is.¡± Aloe whispers as she stops suddenly, I bump into her.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Aloe whispers as loud as she can.

    ¡°S-sorry, I didn¡¯t think it was this close to Bastion''s place.¡± I say to Aloe, quietly.

    ¡°He said it was just a couple blocks. Jeez.¡± Aloe says as she makes eye contact with me and holds it.

    ¡°Y-yeah I already said my ba-¡± I freeze as Aloe holds eye contact with me for a long time.

    I clamor with my words and Aloe continues to hold eye contact with me, and I feel as if I am being held prisoner by her eyes, as I am unable to look away. I only break eye contact to instinctively look at her lips and immediately back at her eyes. Her deep blue irises engulf me as if they are the product of the vast oceans of the east, and I feel as if I cannot breathe as I drown within them.

    ¡°Move out the damn way I gotta piss!¡± A rough voice shatters my illusion and the both of us look towards it, the door with the knife carved onto it is now open and a rough looking man stands before us.

    ¡°O-oh sorry.¡± I say as I pull Aloe with me and out of the man''s way.

    The man stumbles down the alley way and I look towards Aloe again, the tension seemingly fades away as we both laugh at what just happened, and for a moment we felt like we did before all of this. Normal? Not sure, but just not bad.