After I said I would help with the war, my interactions with Princess Laura became somewhat awkward. Neither of us knew how to behave around the other. So, we were kind of avoiding each other. I don’t know why I did that – it could have been because of the part of me she’d uncovered, who knows. But the point is that we didn’t interact much for several days.

She took to her baking job quite well, honestly. Her presence should have warranted diplomatic visits, but no one really came. Maybe her family warned the city not to make a big deal out of this.

I don’t know. What I know is that a week went by without any major change.

Up until now.

Everyone is asleep while I sip a small coffee late at night. It should be around 6 AM, and we’ve just closed. The sun has yet to rise, but I hear tapping on the door.

“Yes?” I ask toward the shut wood.

“It’s me, Joey,” I hear a familiar voice.

“Stan? Come in.”

An old man comes through the door. His eyes are harder than what I’m used to, but as soon as our gazes meet, they soften. As I get up and greet him properly, he gestures to stay put. With Grigio coming behind him, he sits at the table, slowly and deliberately. There are no sighs, no breaths out of place from the man. He’s just like that. Composed.

“How was your holiday?” I ask with a smile.

He looks straight into my eyes before chuckling.

“I am sorry, Joey. I—”

“Stanimal, everyone fucks up. You were mean; I kind of overreacted. We both did. If you are sorry, that’s good enough for me. Princess Laura has not killed me yet. Plus, I think she might be considering marrying me, you know?”

He slowly closes his eyes, nodding.

“I visited her family,” he says, “I sorted out the matters at the royal palace. I made sure her mother couldn’t cause problems through her family connections. It was unpleasant.”

Well, old Stanimal probably went on a killing spree or something. Medieval times and whatnot.

“Joey, I have to tell you something. I have been hiding a piece of my mind from you because I was afraid of putting too much pressure on you.”

“Stanimal, I already told the Princess I would end an intercontinental war in exchange for a royal marriage. And you know what? The thought of senseless slaughter is still less terrifying than the modules the [Collector] gave us. But I’m managing, thanks to Lucillus.”

“Joey, please, listen to me,” he says with a sad smile. “What you just said reminds me of what my son did. And the more I get to know you, the more you remind me of him. Would you mind me telling his story?”

“Sure thing.”

I’m aware that Stan did not address most of what I said. Instead, he wants to let something off his chest. I can’t really say no, can I? This man became my manager, gave me some powerful artifacts, and helped me not get arrested by the Watch.

“Let me tell you a story, then.”

…

“Vespasianus,” King Tiberius addressed his son, the prince.

“Father?” a groggy reply came from a huge mound of blankets and pillows.

“I have been told that you refuse to get up and that you sent the servants away. Are you aware of the fact that my orders were for you to get up and have lunch with the foreign dignitaries?”

A moan of pain came from the huge mound on top of the bed.

“Is that thing today? Oh, father. I need to sleep. I have been brewing potions all night. Can’t we postpone the lunch to dinner, please? My head is killing me.”

King Tiberius moved a hand, and all the blankets and pillows suddenly levitated away from the bed. He looked at the sorry figure of his son, fingers stained with potion marks, shirtless, and wearing rough pants, the kind you use when you know you will ruin a bunch of them.

“You have two minutes, or I’ll call the Royal Guard to have you clothed. Or I’ll do it myself. Princess Clelia has come all the way here so that we can better evaluate the marriage proposal.”

“Oh, father, do we have to do this again? The last Princess who came was an old hag! Can’t I have some respite? I just want to practice my alchemy, please!”

King Tiberius tightened his fist.

“Your grandfather was a renowned war hero, so great even the Vanedenis paid their respects to him. And his sorry excuse of a grandson is whining about meeting a Princess? Vespasianus, you have one minute.”

Luckily, Vespasianus knew better. His father might have been the king, but he wasn’t above spanking his twenty-five-year-old son if it came to it. Therefore, the prince started dressing and cleaning his face.

“Use something for that noxious smell coming from you!” King Tiberius barked, opening a window. “I told them that you were immersed in some alchemic experiment. If they ask you about it, come up with something you were doing during the night. And if you make me look like a dull idiot, I’ll throw you in the Dungeon.”

“Yes, father. Your Majesty,” Vespasianus yawned and replied with sarcasm.

“Come on, let’s go.”

…

Vespasianus was sitting in the room dedicated to banquets when Princess Clelia, as per protocol, entered through the main door. It took all his willpower not to do a spit-take right there and then.

The woman had a golden mane that reached her waist, and her lithe figure was most likely carved by a master [Sculptor] of the highest level.

“World’s Tree be cut,” Vespasianus swore under his breath.

“She’s out of your tree, son. Behave and look like a decent Elf before she realizes you are a dumbass, and this whole thing goes up in flames.”

Vespasianus heard his father's voice in his ear. The King had not moved, but he had used magic to communicate with his son.

“Father, she’s—”

“Prince Vespasianus,” a Human herald addressed him, “Princess Clelia salutes you. She has brought our gracious hosts a series of gifts in exchange for your hospitality.”

Vespasianus nodded, not paying attention to the herald and the list of precious gifts. He was just looking at the beautiful woman in disbelief. He had his fair share of experience with women – some of whom had even been beautiful nobles. And nobles used everything, skills included, to have their progeny be the absolute best.

However, Princess Clelia was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She looked like the emissary of Heaven, not of a stupid Human country.

“May I sit beside you, Your Highness?” the princess addressed him directly, defying protocol.

“I shall be honored if you do,” Vespasianus said while getting up and reclining the chair meant for his guest.

“You are the most gracious,” she smiled at him, making his heart flutter.

After they sat down, the court went through a series of boring procedures that were a part of the protocol for such important meetings.

“This is all quite boring, isn’t it?” Princess Clelia whispered to him with a hand to cover her mouth. “Sometimes, I wish I was born a peasant to skip all the fanfare.”

Never in his entire life had Vespasianus agreed on such a deep level with a statement.

“I have a tonic that makes you deaf and really high for twenty minutes. I might slip it in Her Highness’s cup if she wants me to.”

They both giggled like teenagers at the exchange of playful comments.

King Tiberius closed his eyes and muttered a brief prayer to whatever entity had just brought his idiotic son such a nice Princess.

…

Two years later

“Son, we’ve received intel from the neighbors of the Almiris, the Nonacrinis. They said that the Almiri Princess, Clelia, is trying to get in your favor to backstab you. They have always been the ones to oppose conflict with us. And you know very well that the other Humans on the continent are extremely close to the Almiris.”

Vespasianus raised his eyes from an alchemic tone in front of him.

“Yes, Father. I think Princess Clelia may have ulterior motives.”

That being said, Vespasianus put his eyes back on the book.

“I’ll cancel your trip to meet Princess Clodia in their Capital. Your life may be in peril. They might be after your life – that would be the best way to start a war.”

Vespasianus took one last look at the book before closing it. Then, he turned to the king, his father. King Tiberius was an imposing man but also a rather green ruler. He had not faced the same conflicts his father had. His levels were nothing to speak of, nor was his acumen superior to his peers. However, he was a good father, preoccupied with the fate of his son; and that was much more than many could hope for in a paternal figure.

“Father, I had a revelation after visiting the Inner Sanctum,” Prince Vespasianus spoke with a tired voice. “I believe my life could end as soon as I step foot on Teiko. But I also believe there’s something greater than my fate. Epretos and Teiko are places of power, father. We can’t keep fighting the Humans we share this continent with. And we can’t keep fighting every other Human on Teiko.”

…

“My son wanted peace, Joey. He believed that the Humans would have listened to him, that he would have them listen to reason. He was assassinated shortly after arriving in their capital. They claimed he almost killed the Princess and tried to flee the city. After that, they asked for reparations.”

Stan smiles bitterly.

“I started a war like no one had ever seen before. This time, only one race would survive. And we did. I managed to kill off or drive away every single Human on this continent. The peace with the Humans on Epretos had barely lasted twenty years before their allies decided to kill my son. I was driven by rage. I discovered the most powerful and twisted aspects of my classes and dived deep into them. The war lasted 170 years. I refused every single treaty and devoted the last twenty years of the conflict to routing Humans from Epretos. I spent almost two centuries consumed by rage and grief. Soon after we won, I gave up the throne in favor of my dead brother’s great-nephew. That’s the same line that gave birth to the current King. I perceived myself unfit to rule anymore, but I kept helping the royal court with the most heinous matters. I would become a killer or a slaughterer whenever I needed to. I killed our own kind when they rebelled or disagreed. I infiltrated Human settlements and laid waste to them, poisoned their food and water, had their infants killed and thrown at the walls of their Capital.”

Stan makes a brief pause.

“But my son, Vespasianus, asked me not to do any of that. He told me that even if they killed him, I should be merciful. That one day, it would be a Human reconciling our two races.”

Holy shit.

First, Stan is a war criminal. Second, is that a prophecy?

Oh, shit.

“Yes, Joey. It’s a burden. I’m not sure what Vespasianus found in our Inner Sanctum, but he found knowledge great enough to know what would have been right. I didn’t even try to follow his advice. I took my puny levels and classes and tried to become strong enough to end all Humans. Years later, I became a husk of myself, a relict too old to be remembered by most but too strong to die. I let myself rot, telling the royal guard I wanted to be left alone – that they should never contact me ever again. And then, I met a woman. A Human. It’s been three years now, I think. She showed me kindness when I was in the streets. I could not have easily died of hunger, but I tried starving myself, nonetheless. A sick dog followed me in this misery and became stronger and healthier thanks to my skills. The woman tried to feed both of us, even though I ignored her countless times. As many Elves ignored us, she decided to take it upon herself to lift us up. I know that she got speciesist remarks and insults from other Elves. I was there. But she never took them to heart. She simply kept going. And when she asked me my name, I told her I didn’t deserve my old name anymore, that I had tainted everything I had. That I was nothing. No one.”

“And she said to me, ‘old man, you look like a Stan. If you like the name, keep it, it’s yours.’ That girl could not have known the atrocities that belonged to my old name. After a life of tragedy, her silly gesture felt enough to eat again, to take care of the dog she named Grigio.”

Stan takes a big sigh before standing up.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

“Last I checked, Stanimal, we still had a contract binding you to work for me, didn’t we? And before you give me the whole ‘oh, Joey, I’m a monster who killed countless people,’ I’d like to say that’s who you were. King Tiberius did that stuff, not my Stanimal. Plus, to be honest, I’m not sure I did everything right with the [Collector], and I might need you to sort our ledger. Lucillus says I did everything right, but I know he takes it away from me to adjust some of the numbers from time to time. Plus, your son was a nutjob, if I have to be honest. If I have to stop a war, I’ll just rain some stupid meteors on them until they surrender or something. Rest assured that I’m not doing any martyr stuff. And I’m sure that you can do more good than bad by staying here. We can feed people, hire them, and so on.”

I take a quick breath before continuing my speech.

“And don’t give me that mopey stuff about your past, man. Centuries went by, right? You did some crazy stuff, and that’s not good. But you are here, and my mother used to say that everyone, even the worst person in the world, has a right to a second chance. They killed your son, and you killed a bunch of them. Now, you work with me. If your niece wants to marry me, I’ll also need you to bring her to the altar, you know? I don’t want the King of Elves doing that; it would make me nervous. I’d prefer my Stanimal with me. So, what do you say, Stanimal? Do you have my back?”