Nuncio wished that the carriage ride had been the worst thing that happened to him but after Pietro’s arrival to Cobbler’s Hold… it wasn’t even close. Other passengers were picked up along the way and it even when Nuncio screamed at them to get away, it didn’t help. All of them climbed into the cage willingly. Sometimes parents would bring their children to Old Flea themselves… like Pietro had done with him.

“You can scream. You can cry. It won’t do you any good. Those who have lost all hope have no other place to go but my cage.” Old Flea said.

All the children had broken look in their eyes… and more often than not bruises. A quiet despair hung over them like they had been waiting to climb into Old Flea’s wagon all their lives. Few words were spoken and when Nuncio asked for their names, they would mutter an answer so softly he couldn’t make it out. Soon no words were exchanged, and a schedule was set up.

“A thousand years ago, I would collect gold and women for Girusai. These days I pick up unwanted children as servants for Mordesai. How times have changed.” Old Flea said.

With no other real company, Nuncio found himself talking with Old Flea despite himself.

“… whose Mordesai?”

“My master and the only son of the deposed dragon king. The true of king of The Wyrding until he was… dealt with by Oberon and Eld.”

They travelled during the day, in and out of The Wyrding and rested during the night. Twice a day, Old Flea would pass in water and bread through the bars. This went on for three weeks until one morning Nuncio woke up and saw that they had arrived at the root of a mountain.

“You should have seen the place in its heyday. Before Oberon and Eld ransacked the place.” Old Flea said.

The mountain was shaped like a jagged tooth and on its side was carved a castle with higher walls than anyone could hope to climb and spiraling towers that would spot any intruder long before they got close. Gargoyles made from stone stood on the ramparts and watched them with unseeing eyes.

“Welcome to Storm Roost, boys and girls. Your new home.” Old Flea said.

The gate into the castle opened and then shut behind them when Old Flea had brought the carriage inside. Older children dressed in black servant’s garbs were waiting for them in the yard and told them to throw away their dirty, ragged clothes and line up against the wall. Not knowing what else to do, Nuncio did as he was told… and was splashed with cold water. Using a hose, the servants washed the stench of the carriage off them and then handed them black uniforms.

“Congratulations, boys and girls. From this day forward you get serve prince Mordesai.” Old Flea said and winked at them: “Do a good job and don’t embarrass your pal Old Flea.”

With those parting words Old Flea took his carriage and headed out again while Nuncio and the others were given posts in the castle. A broom was shoved into Nuncio’s hands, and he was told to fight dust wherever he found it. The other children accepted their new roles without a complaint the same way they had endured the long road to the mountain.

From that moment on the castle on the mountain became his whole world and the ringing of a bell told him when he could eat and sleep. All other times he worked… and plotted. Cleaning the castle made him familiar with it quickly and much to his surprise there were no locked doors in the castle or guards. But even then, no one tried to escape.

Every time he came across another servant, he tried to break them out of their rut and join him. If only he had allies…

“Look… if we all work together, we could get out of here. I have to get back to my mother and sister. They need my help so please… help me.”

None of them ever did. They just stared at him with unseeing eyes and then went back to fulfilling their duties.

This went on until one day the castle’s unseen master made himself known.

Nuncio was mopping the floor when heavy steps made the hallway quake and for a moment, he feared… or hoped that an earthquake was going to bring the castle down and bury them all under rubble.

Instead of an earthquake he saw a man. One of the heaviest men Nuncio had ever come across. He was wide enough to fill a doorframe and thick jowls hung from his jaw. His stomach was a perfect sphere like a celestial body. He was the kind of a man you would judge to be a fat slob… until you shook his hand and felt the hill of muscles. The man’s head could have been a huge boulder and it was completely hairless. He didn’t even have eyebrows or lashes. His skin had the texture of wax like he had been dipped into boiling water a long time ago. The man was dressed in the finest black silk Nuncio had ever seen and his fingers were adorned with gold.

Sight of the man sent shivers down Nuncio’s spine, and he did what his mother had taught him to do if he ever came across a lord. He bowed his head and didn’t even think of looking up.

If you’re lucky, the lord will pass you by, mom had said.

The lord did not pass him by, and his shadow lingered over Nuncio like an eclipse.

“Nuncio Capello?”

Nuncio had expected the lord to have the high-pitched whine of a eunuch but instead his voice was a deep rumbling bass. Smooth as the sea and powerful as a hurricane. The lord put one finger, thick as a sausage, under Nuncio’s chin and made him look up. Breath was caught in Nuncio’s throat when he gazed into the lord’s eyes. They were the color of gold, and his pupils were slitted like a lizard’s. His hand was unnaturally warm like flames were burning just under his skin.

“Yes. You are. You have your father’s look.”

“… milord?” Nuncio whispered.

“Not a lord. A prince. My name is Mordesai, and you are Nuncio Capello.” Mordesai said and let go of Nuncio’s chin: “Your father asked me to educate you and I have decided to do so. Leave the mop and follow me. Others will take up your duties.”

Nuncio dared not to disobey the giant man and put down his mop. It was not easy keeping up with Mordesai who walked in huge strides.

“I hear you have been trying to start a rebellion.” Mordesai said while they walked.

Fear tied Nuncio’s stomach to knots.

“… I…”

“Don’t try to deny it. I hear all in this castle. Not like you could have succeeded. None of my servants have hopes or dreams and people without hopes or dreams are just puppets. Why do you think I have no guards or locks?”

“… I… but you… you keep them as prisoners here…”

“I have no guards. My doors are never locked. Anyone can leave whenever they choose but they never do because they can’t dream of anything better. Even Old Flea is just a slave. A goblin with no home so he serves me because I give him purpose.”

When they arrived at the root of a staircase, Mordesai started climbing them and despite his girth, he didn’t sweat or pant. The stairs led to quarters fit for a prince. Shelves were filled book that had covers like works of art. Paintings that were so vivid they looked like reality captured on canvas hang on the walls. The couches had pillows soft as clouds and the view of the lands surrounding the mountain was so beautiful it could bring tears to your eyes.

Mordesai walked to a cabinet and took out a bowl filled with candy.

“Sit so we can palaver. Would you like some sweets?” Mordesai asked.

“… I…” Nuncio said and looked at the candy bowl: “… no”

“Suit yourself. I will have some. You are free to partake if you change your mind.” Mordesai said and scooped a fistful of candy that he shoveled into his mouth.

While munching on candy, Mordesai sat on the couch. Nuncio sat on the other couch across him and dared to only steal glances at Mordesai.

“… what… did Pietro want you to teach me?” Nuncio said.

“Just some facts of life and no need to be so nervous. You’re a guest which means you’re protected by sacred hospitality.” Mordesai said and leaned back on the couch: “I want you to know that I understand what you’re going through.”

“… what?”

“We’ll get to that. Now, what do you know about the history of The Wyrding?” Mordesai asked.

“… I… I…”

“Answer me.” Mordesai said.

“… I… know that The Wyrding and Garuccia were once one and the same.”

“Yes. One land ruled by the dragon Girusai. My father. To prove their loyalty, all the other races had to pay him a tax in gold and women.” Mordesai said and looked at his quarters: “My mother was used up in this room like so many others. Whatever children were born… Girusai ate. To kill any possibility of another dragon rising against him. So… as you can see, were the same. My father was a monster too.”

Mordesai ate more candy.

“Then what happened?” Mordesai said while looking at him.

Nuncio bit his lip.

“The humans… crowned a king of their own. King Eld and… he formed an alliance with the elf king Oberon. Together… they challenged Girusai and killed him.”

“Challenged him?” Mordesai said: “Odd way to say that Eld and Oberon crawled up the shit chute and cut Girusai’s belly open while he slept. Not that I am complaining. When his guts fell out so did I. Luckily, he hadn’t digested me yet.”

Mordesai offered Nuncio the candy bowl.

“Candy?”

This time Nuncio had some. The candies were hard as rocks and tasted of sugar and fruit.

“What happened after I had been pulled out of my father’s belly and forced to denounce my claim to The Wyrding at sword point?” Mordesai asked.

“… then… then king Eld and Oberon… drew borders of their kingdoms and… planted the Wyrd Stones to bind magic into The Wyrding and… mark their domains.”

Mordesai nodded.

“Yes… but do you know why they had to carve the land in two?”

“… no.”

“It was to avoid a war. Girusai had been a tyrant but… he kept everyone in line. With him gone… Eld and Oberon realized that they were each other’s biggest enemies.” Mordesai said and stroked his many chins: “What did that story teach you?”

Nuncio racked his brain trying to think what Mordesai wanted him to say.

“… it taught me… that monsters can be killed.”

“A simplistic way to look at it but not incorrect. Now tell me, how did King Eld die?”

“… what?”

“How did the first king of Garuccia die? How did your country’s greatest hero die?”

“… in his sleep. He was stabbed by his son.”

“That’s how tyrants usually die. It’s sad really. Hero kills a tyrant and then becomes a tyrant himself only to be killed by a new hero. Heroes and monsters are two sides of the same coin.” Mordesai said and smiled: “I don’t think monsters get their due.”

Nuncio stared at Mordesai shocked.

“… what?”

“Monsters create the world. The things we hate define who we are. What were you before your father came home? Nothing. Then you carved a stake and tried to be a hero.”

Before Nuncio realized it, he was screaming.

“Do you have any idea how many people he has killed?!”

Mordesai looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“Do you think a skin-changer keeps count of the goblins it eats? Predators are always monsters to the prey. Just like the powerful are monsters to the powerless. Do you fish?”

“Fish aren’t people!”

“Yet they die the same.” Mordesai said: “A bit of violence and another eats dirt.”

“Violence is never the answer!”

“Violence is never the answer? Battle cry of the weak. Anything worth resolving has always been resolved with violence. Eld and Oberon didn’t deal with my father by asking nicely. They just killed him. Do you know what that means?”

“I don’t think I do.” Nuncio said.

“It means there is no good or evil. Just the powerful and the powerless.” Mordesai said and chuckled to himself: “Violence is never the answer? Were you thinking that when you tried to kill your father?”

Nuncio tried to think of some counter argument… but could only chew his lip.

“Not that I blame you. Pietro is a difficult man to like but he amuses me. You would not believe how valuable amusement is to a dragon.”

“Is Pietro another one of your slaves? Like Old Flea?”

“No. I’d say he’s the closest thing I have to an ally. He came to me with a plan to get a foothold in Garuccia. That intrigued me. That’s why I backed his claim as the king of all vampires. Just to give it some validity. Which makes you a prince. Human prince of all vampires.”

Mordesai stood up and walked over to the balcony that gave him a view of his lands.

“There is no good or evil. Just the powerful and the powerless. Predator and prey. Small group of sadists and a large group of masochists.” Mordesai said and beckoned Nuncio closer.

After some hesitation, Nuncio stood next to Mordesai on the balcony. Together they looked at The Wyrding.

“It is always better to be a predator than prey. I hope you know that.” Mordesai said and then ruffled Nuncio’s hair. The touch burned his scalp: “I like you, Nuncio. I think I will call you a friend. You should be flattered. Few people can befriend a dragon.”

“And what if I don’t want to be your friend?”

“Then I’d call you a fool instead.” Mordesai said and played with the rings in his fingers: “Your father wanted me to teach you that we’re all bound to hell but some of us get to travel in first class. I think I will teach you something else.”

“What?”

Mordesai smiled.

“It was wise of you to go after Pietro when he slept but a vampire is rarely unguarded. My advice? Play the good boy until he lowers his guard and turns his back. Then you will know where your knife goes.”

Nuncio was quiet for a moment and then started laughing. He laughed until he cried.

“I know it is hard to accept what the world is really like.” Mordesai said and handed him a handkerchief: “I will see to it that you have more fitting accommodations. You’re no longer a servant. You’re a guest. My guest and my friend.”

Mordesai patted his back.

“Welcome to the world, Nuncio Capello.”