Tomorrow would be a tiring day. Olivin had known that as soon as he opened the first bottle. If it were not for how quickly he could revert back using his Wheel, he would have been in quite some trouble. But for tonight, he just sat in his chair, rocking back and forth as the liquid in the bottle sloshed around.

He hiccupped a few times every now and then. Exinal would think it unwise for a king to be awake at this ungodly hour, but Olivin couldn’t care less for a traitor’s opinion, much less a dead one. He dropped the bottle again, seeing it crash onto the floor and spill its sweet syrup onto the wooden boards.

Arinal arrived soon after, sighing at the sight of his majesty. Olivin looked up to meet his eyes and couldn’t bear to do it. Arinal helped him up, gently moving the man so that he could be led to his bed.

“You really should recover before heading to bed, sir. The headache will certainly not be worth it.”

That voice, still so hoarse. Olivin pulled his hand away from Arinal. “I suggest you take a break, Arinal. Clearly, you’re not well enough.”

“I assure you, sir, if I were not here to keep an eye on you, the state of affairs would be much worse.” He sat Olivin down onto his bed and moved back towards the shards of glass. “Would you mind gathering them all together, sir?” he asked Olivin.

“Sure, Arinal.” He moved his hand up for a few seconds and unstopped his flask, until the realization hit him like a bullet train.

“Arinal,” he inquired. “Yes, sir?”

“Why didn’t you ask me to fix your throat?”

Arinal kneeled, stunned. “W-well, sir, I thought that-“

Olivin stood up for a second, his brain burning away the alcohol that muddied his vision. “Arinal, don’t move,” he ordered.

****

There was one person Olivin could count on to keep him on track. Exinal. The man was like the brother Olivin had wished for all these years, teaching him new things about the world around him, admonishing him for his mistakes and taking care to groom Olivin into becoming a better man. Olivin first encountered the man on the beginning of his journey, when Exinal was assigned to him by the old Seer.

He always inquired about their relation, but wouldn’t get his answers about it until much later. At the moment, however, Exinal seemed much less like his brother, and more like his enemy.

“So, an all-out war, then? Olivin, I taught you better than this. The reason I brought you this entire way was to avoid this situation. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take command.”

“No. You can’t, Exinal.”

“Pardon?” Exinal seemed offended. He planted his hands down on the table to the shock and awe of everyone around him. No one dared to question Olivin and his legitimacy at this point, but Exinal was always a special case.

“I said, you can not and will not take command away from me. I’ve tried it your way, Exinal, but this is the only way we can avoid further casualties.”

Exinal stared down at the table, anger filling his vision as he dared not look Olivin in the eyes. Olivin himself felt guilty for abandoning the teachings that Exinal had worked so hard to cultivate. He eventually left that room, and so did the other generals. But Olivin stayed. He stayed and contemplated how he had condemned innocents to their death, too spread apart to even consider them a resource worth protecting.

It was a week later when he received news that Exinal had decided to set off for the location himself, bringing with him a small platoon to protect the location. It was a week after that that he received knews of what had happened. He didn’t succeed. Olivin held the man as he nursed him back to health in the small makeshift tent.

“You should have been there, damnit. You could have done something!” Exinal screamed at him. Olivin wondered if he was right. He walked to the tent flap and examined the battlefield himself from there, and found that, yes, he could have used his power as a Resurger to repair the fortifications quicker than anyone. But would that really have changed the outcome? Exinal stared back at him from his bed.

“We were so close, Olivin…”

****

A cloud of smoke enveloped the room in an instant, leaving the quickened footsteps as his only indicator of “Arinal” and his location. Olivin threw his night stand at the window, breaking it open and letting the smoke clear. Olivin opened his room’s door, passing by the last of his workers who were about to leave.

“Where did Arinal go?!” he asked them frantically.

“D-down the hallway, your majesty.”

Olivin ran in that direction until he caught a glimpse of the man heading up the stairs. Olivin flew into the wall, landing in front of the man and swiping his hand downwards. Arinal dodged out of the way, far too quickly for someone with his sorts of Wheels, or as Olivin remembered his Wheels.

Arinal weaved between the man, turning his body invisible. Olivin only saw his hand appear mere seconds after he felt the fist contact his face. He tumbled down the steps, trying to gain a vantage, but resorted to climbing them like a wild animal. He chased him upwards, step by step, until he felt another impact at the top of the stairs.

He held on this time, grabbing the appendage and spinning it around to slam the man into the wall. Considering how Olivin could feel the punches, he was pretty sure that the man could handle the pain.

Arinal flew through the hole and fell on top of the slanted roof of the castle itself. “Haa… Oh, I never expected you to get this strong, Olivin. Have some mercy, you old dunce,” he said as he scrambled up the steps.

Olivin landed not far away from him, stalking up to his crumpled form. “Take off the disguise, jester.”

“Oh, I will, just let me have some fun first.” He spun on the ground and righted himself, readying his fists to strike. Olivin engaged the man, trading blow for blow. Each time he thought he had an opening; he would be countered by him.

He fights like Exinal. Too much like Exinal. Olivin grabbed him with one hand and went down to the ground with him, tumbling along the slope of the roof before they both landed on a balcony, separating them. The man stood up and ran into the building, making Olivin chase him like some sort of game.

Olivin entered the room to find invisible knives and cutlery being thrown at him from some unknown place. He could only gauge the location from the side the pieces hit. Olivin waited for a few moments and grabbed one knife out of the air, feeling along its edge and running to where he thought it was thrown from. He slammed his feet onto the ground causing cracks to form out from below his feet. Having had enough of searching, he spun around and launched an arc of cutting wind that yielded a line of blood strewn about on the ground.

Olivin saw a jug of water on a table and floated the water out of it, covering the man in it and freezing it in an instant. He appeared out of thin air and Olivin pulled a fist back to punch him, launching him through the walls into the other room. Walking through that hole, Olivin ignored the broken furniture and saw only the broken body of the man. He was bleeding more heavily than Olivin could have guessed, which snapped him out of his rage instantly.

What am I doing?

****

What have I done?

Olivin stood over the body of a dead god. Or at least what was supposed to have become a god. He cradled his dying brother’s body in his hand as he watched the life slowly fading from his eyes.

“Don’t bring me back, Olivin… I don’t want to come back again… Please…” Olivin wrestled with his instincts to revert the man to a healthier form, but couldn’t do it. If it came time for it, would he make the same decision for Zavja, for Jiji? No, this is a choice that he would honour, even if the cause of Exinal’s death was he himself.

****

Olivin looked around at the rubble and stopped clenching his fists. “Drop the illusion, all of it.”

“Much obliged.” The man’s face bled away to reveal a woman beneath it all. “It’s damn annoying to put on that voice anyways.”

“Jiji?” Olivin said, surprised. He was sure that the woman had died long ago, but here she was, looking the same as ever. It seemed impossible to Olivin. He took her hand and held it.

“Why, thanks for your concer-“ He slashed a line through her Wheels, breaking them and causing Jiji to become nothing more than a normal homlin.

“Rude.”

“Goddess, it really is you! How?” Olivin asked instantly. She winced as he let her go. “Oh, my apologies,” he said and then drenched her with water. Her body reknitted itself into its earlier position, completely removing any sign of injury.

He then sat her down on the rubble and asked once more, “How?”

“First, I think there’s something that you need to see.”

Her Wheels had fixed as well due to the Resurgence, so she led him to the top of the building once more, where they looked out over the fields of Olivin’s mansion. In an instant, a single firework flew into the sky and exploded into brilliant shimmering light. Many more followed, heralding Olivin’s birthday in with a celebration.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.

“Doesn’t explain your presence here,” Olivin continued,” But yes, it’s one of the things I enjoy about being king.”

“I wanted to surprise you. Finally free after a while so I thought what better way to surprise my friend than on his birthday,” she smiled at him. She held up a little fablade in front of Olivin, which he immediately recognized.

“You found out what it does?” he asked. “Sure did. Extended my life a few times too. I really should have come back sooner though…” she looked morose as she said that.

“I kept putting it off, taking jobs and involving myself in a new life. I think the whole immortality thing went to my head, haha…”

“Well, you’re here now, and that’s enough,” Olivin could feel his mind clearing as he talked with Jiji. It felt nice to be able to commune with his old friend again.

“What did you do to Arinal?” he asked her.

“Sent him a fake letter, asking him to spend a little extra time on his vacation.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Well…”

They talked like that for several hours, until the sun came up and they were both tired. They could have reversed that as much as they liked, but the feeling felt nice, like closure to an event.

Jiji stood up after a while and threw an old-fashioned map at Olivin’s feet. “Well, I’ve got to go now. There are still some commitments that I need to keep.”

“Wait, please,” Olivin held onto her with a hand. “You could stay here. You’re a legendary hero, think of how much more you could get done from here.”

“Olivin, That’s your area of expertise. You’ve outgrown the lessons I or anyone else could have taught you with experience. Besides, I’ll return, regularly this time. As for that,” she pointed at the map, “You’ll find those old trinkets of yours on the marked location, along with a little something extra.”

Olivin was exacerbated at what Jiji had decided. “You’ll always have a home here, Jiji, until the day I’m deposed.”

Jiji felt a little surprised at that statement but happy nonetheless. “Thank you, Olivin, I mean it.” She then left, taking the device with her and leaving Olivin with a job yet to complete. He spent the day with happiness unparalleled, and though it was exhausting, for once in many years, he enjoyed the process.

A party was held in a large venue owned by him. He entertained his guests and his friends, finding that monotonous fog in his mind had receded a fair amount. That night, he set off with the treasure map in hand, finding each location that Jiji had marked with another clue. He enjoyed the hunt, until finally he happened upon a small shack in a nondescript location.

Despite its age, it was well maintained from the outside. Olivin turned the knob and saw the door creak open. He looked inside to find Vinal’s sword, Jiji’s handkerchief, Zavja’s necklace and finally, a painting that he thought had been lost.

It depicted him and his friends, even Exinal, standing in front of his castle. They were dirty, but a smile covered each of their grimy faces. Olivin couldn’t help but feel immensely happy as he took the painting into his arms and held it for the longest moment.