Sleep had not come last night. No matter how hard he'd tried, Caspian couldn't get the image of that elf dying, of his blade biting into her flesh, of her life's blood leaving her, and of the things she had said, out of his mind.

His sword had cut through her so easily, like cutting through a stick of warm butter. Not to mention the blood. There had been so much of it. Even now, every time he closed his eyes, he could see the blood as it splashed against the floor, crimson ichor creating a warm puddle on the ground. How could he rest when every moment he closed his eyes was another moment he'd have to see that?

Lying on the bed, hands placed behind his head, acting in place of pillows, Caspian tried to find something to occupy his mind with other than the knowledge that he had become killer. It wasn't something that should have bothered him, he knew. As a Knight, killing was just something he would have to get used to.

That didn't make dealing with this situation any easier.

The sound of something clicking echoed throughout the room seconds before the door leading to the hallway opened. Caspian paid no attention to the person walking in. Their footsteps made heavy clanking noises before stopping somewhere near the foot of his bed. Even then, he still didn't look at the person eying him from a short distance away.

"Are you going to lay there all day?" The voice was deep, if tired, and held a sickly quality to it. Derek, then.

"Hn."

"Wow, that's an articulate response."

"Hn."

"You know, speaking in grunts is often a sign of stupidity."

"Hn."

The figure at the foot of his bed sighed. There was some more clanking noises, followed by the jingling of chains, before the bed he was lying on formed a small depression to accommodate for the weight of someone sitting on it.

For a long moment, no one spoke. The time that passed seemed indeterminable. It could have been seconds, or it could have been minutes. Finally, after what felt almost like hours to Caspian, but was really just a couple of minutes, the man sitting on the bed spoke again.

"You know, I remember the first time I ever killed someone. Back then, I was a foolish young man. I was eighteen, and I had just become Erica's Knight. I remember how I felt, like I could do anything."

Derek stopped talking. Caspian waited, wondering if the man would continue. When he didn't, Caspian realized why. Derek wanted him to talk. He'd spoken to draw his curiosity in and make him start talking. And unfortunately for Caspian, it worked.

He turned his head to Derek. The older man sat on the foot of the bed, his armor glistening from the light that streamed in through the window.

"So what happened?" Caspian asked.

"It happened on our way back from a meeting with the Sorceress Council, an attack in an open street by a group of discontent elves who, I am guessing, had been kicked out of their homes-similar to the elves from last night. Each one of them was a malcontent. They reveled in violence and causing chaos."

Derek's already sunken eyes seemed to gain a melancholy to them that Caspian had never seen on another person's face before.

"I remember when the attack happened. They had used a large scale magic circle that caused several buildings in the area to explode. All the people who'd been inside of them died instantly. Anyone who was near the exploding buildings also died, their burnt bodies flung through the air like dolls thrown by an angry child, and the scent of charred flesh stinging my nose. It had been a horrible sight."

Caspian could imagine. As Derek told him of his experience, an image formed in his mind; buildings exploding in gouts of fire, people getting caught by the blast and thrown away with impunity, their skin melting off their bodies due to the intense heat, blistering and bubbling and crackling. The picture Derek painted for him was not a pretty one.

"Fortunately, My Lady was not anywhere near the explosions when they happened. We think their main target was Lady Silvia. Regardless, My Lady and I ended up embroiled in the battle. It was the first time I had experienced combat outside of sparring at the academy. It was bloody and violent and furiously fast-paced. I was barely able to keep up with everything going on around me. Several times I thought I was done for. However, every time I believed I was going to be killed, My Lady Erica would save me. She would then take the time to scold me in the midst of battle over my lack of focus."

"What happened during the battle?" Caspian asked.

"I ended up killing is what happened." Derek leaned back on the bed, his hands moving behind him to support his upper body as he tilted his head to look at the ceiling. "It happened before I really realized what was going on. One of the elves we were fighting had decided they were going to kill Lady Erica. He was behind her, so she didn't see him, but I did. Before I knew it, I had charged at him faster than I can ever remember doing before or since. My blade cut straight through him so easily. I still remember how much blood there was. How one half of his body flew one way, while the other traveled in a different direction and both hit the ground with a sickening, wet thud."

There was another lull in the story, possibly to give Caspian time to digest the older man's words, but mostly because Derek had simply become lost in the past. Through his eyes, Caspian could see that he was reliving the experience of his first battle. They were glazed over, dull, as if Derek was seeing something beyond mortal sight.

The armored man shook his head and continued. "In either case, after the battle ended, I became horrified by what I had done. While that elf had been my first kill, it wasn't the last life I took that day. I can't remember how many elves I had personally slain during that fight. Even now, much of that fight remains a blur to me, but I do remember a lot more blood being spilled on my account. Knowing this, that I was responsible for so much death, caused me to become sick. When Lady Erica and I returned to Dorehan Tower, I locked myself in my room for the rest of the day. I would have stayed in there longer, but My Lady blew up the door and dragged me out."

He looked over at Caspian and grinned at him.

"I'll never forget what she said to me that day: 'You forget that your life no longer belongs to you. You are mine now, and you will remain mine until the day you die. That means you don't get the luxury of holing yourself up and keeping everybody else out so you can wallow in self-pity. You are my property, which means you're my responsibility; all of your burdens, hopes and fears are now mine to bear. Now, you're going to get over yourself and tell me what's bothering you, or so help me, I'm going to summon Susanoo and shove several thousand volts of lightning up your ass!'"

Caspian shuddered at the mental image that invoked. That was not something he wanted to know about. In fact, he was beginning to regret ever letting this man talk for as long as he had.

"That... doesn't sound very pleasant."

"No. No, it does not. However, this is another reason you can't remain cooped up in here. If you do, then My Lady Erica is very liable to do to you what she said she'd do to me. She doesn't like to admit it, but My Lady Erica worries about people more than she lets on, and she has a very unpleasant way of expressing that worry."

Derek stood up, then, and moved toward the door. Caspian, after a small moment of hesitation, called out to him.

"Does it ever get any easier?" When Derek turned to face him, the young man elaborate. "Killing, I mean. Does it get easier?"

"No." Derek's smile was grim, and at the same time, sad. "Killing another person will never become any easier. But if killing ever did become easy for you, then it means you should probably stop killing. Those who no longer feel remorse when they kill are no longer fit to wield a sword, or to be called a Sorceress's Knight."