Under the small rays of light entering the King’s Hall, Tesla’s mind fell into darkness on the hard, charcoal-black tiles around the Vault of Glass. King Richard II pinned himself against a pillar behind Hendrix, staying as humanly far away from me as possible, murmuring slurs and curses below his tongue. Hendrix on the other hand, remained tall and erect, his boots squeaking against the ground.

“Hendrix!” King Richard II cried, “If you take his head off,” He gestured towards me, despite my body barely holding straight. “I’ll make you the general of my army! Anything you want is yours! I swear it!”

Ah, I thought. Bargaining—The third stage of grief. Not something I was very fond of.

Hendrix bowed, smiling. “It would be an honor, your majesty.”

I leaned myself against a pillar, my chest weighing me down. Breathing was starting to get difficult, and my face began getting greasy from all the sweat. I thought back to my days when I was just a boy, playing around on my mother’s farm, before my life turned to sticks and stones.

As much as I wanted to go back, a part of me kept me away from my past. There was nothing good about it. Only sleepless nights and fallen lives. Nothing worth any remembrance. Even those good days on the farm.

“My lord,” Hendrix kept his gaze on me, his words aimed at the king. “Is this the man who caused…” He cleared his throat, making an obvious gesture towards the wooden hands. “The incident?”

King Richard II growled, wiping another drop of sweat off his chin. “Yes dammit! That bloody bastard stole my only tools I’ve ever needed! Robbing me of my touch!”

“Your majesty,” Hendirx cleared his throat again, awkwardly. “Very well, although I do not appreciate a battle when my opponent is severely wounded, I will do as you please.”

Come to think of it, nearly all of the king’s Gifted warden’s had a certain set of standards they followed. They were men with honor, while their leader was a man of lies and crushed spirits. Respect was the least I could give them. However, their crimes and acts of violence were nothing to pay my respects to, so I kept my guard. I needed to end this. But I hadn’t a clue on how.

With my chest aching in pain, my agility as sloppy as a wet frog, and Hendrix being able to read my movements through his Third Eye, this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. This was a battle of a single touch. A touch that would choose the victor, and a touch to decide the fate of the duel.

Hendrix gave me a bow, formed some annoyingly moronic stance, then gestured for me to come at him.

I sighed, “Hendrix was it? What do you expect to gain out of killing me?” I asked him. “Do you find joy in killing? Or does the title of a worthless commander really that important to you?”

Hendrix stopped dead in his tracks, considering my question deeply through his stern expression. “I’m afraid you fail to understand. Killing is a means of overcoming obstacles. You are an obstacle for my powerful king, and therefore, you mustn’t be kept alive.” Two of his fingers shot directly at me, “If you faced an obstacle to achieve a goal, would you not hurdle over it?” He chuckled, mocking me.

An obstacle, I thought. What was my obstacle? Acquiring money to feed myself? Walking further and further away from my past? Dealing with my sleepless nights of souls dragging me to an abyss of despair? Truly, my obstacles were those that interfered with my search. And I never knew, or will know, what they are or what they were.

“I see…” My breaths were getting shallow, the weight of my chest pulling me down like an anchor. “I killed to survive… Obstacles or not, killing was a way for me to live. Because in the end, we all do it to survive, one way or another… I do not wish to kill anymore, and I am truly sorry, but I’m afraid I will not be fighting you.” I turned my head, and began limping towards Tesla’s body.

“Not be fighting?” said Hendrix, baffled by my response.

Placing my arm against a pillar, I took careful breaths, turning back around. “Neither one of us are fighting to survive. You are only fighting me to fulfill your sworn loyalty to the king. If I fight you, there would be no difference, for I too would be fighting to fulfill a promise.”

“What seems to be the problem with that?” he asked.

I sighed again, “For you, there might be nothing wrong. But for me, if there was anything I’ve learned, fighting is for survival. If it can be avoided, I would prefer to do so.” I paused for a moment, slowing my breaths. “And, for your sake and mine, the final spot on my arm, isn’t for you.”

“Final spot on your arm?” Hendrix grinned, “Are you taunting me? In your current condition?”

“No. I'm warning you.” I said, sending a shiver down his spine.

Hendrix dimmed his grin, “Do you take me as a fool? No matter what you spit out of your mouth, I will not allow your actions to be left unsettled with my rightful king.” Immediately, he placed all of his bodyweight into the back part of his left foot, and began sprinting at me like a starving bull.

King Richard II gained a doubtful smile, “Kill him!”

As thumps and pounds of running steps came closer and closer, no openings presented themselves to me. I always looked for an opening, and if Hendrix could see my movements, I needed more than just an opening. I needed luck, badly.

Hendrix quickly went for a low kick, knowing that if I touched him, he would lose without a breath to spare.

I was forced to jump, but as soon as my legs hit the ground again, my chest pulled me down to my knees. A fat breath of torment burst through my lungs, and another kick greeted my diaphragm. “GHHUUUUHH!” I coughed, my muscles tightening into knots, my ribs barely able to stand straight.

My body slid across the ground, and Hendrix didn’t hesitate to use this humble opportunity to his advantage. “Pathetic.”

I tried to pick myself up as fast as I could, but my hands weren’t responding. In fact, there wasn’t a single part of my body that was capable of moving, except for my eyes, my nose, and my lips. My hands, wrists, fingers, knees, were all numb and cold. My sense of touch vanished, and I felt as if my body rested on a soft cloud in the sky, carrying me like a loose vessel.

I was free. Free from the pain, free from the aches, free from the fight. I was on the bottom of the ocean, next to the anchor.

“Get up!” Hendrix yelled at me, unsatisfied with my poor attempts, his voice echoing through my ears. “Get up!” He grabbed me by my beaten clothes, lifting me up like a bully. “How dare you make such claims with nothing to show for it? Do you take me as a joke?”

I didn’t respond. I let my body hang inside the confinement of his tight fingers. There was nothing I could do. However, just as he was about to throw me at the king, my body seemed to move on its own, as I wasn’t controlling it.

My right hand jolted upright at his fearsome grip, and my skin touched against the tip of his knuckle. “Let loose,” I whispered into his ear as I quickly used all the strength I had left to force all my energy into him. His body flew up towards the ceiling like a cork off a wine bottle, plummeting back down into a tangled mess on the floor. If I had to be safe, that fall was sure to cause a broken leg, wrist, and twisted ankle. However, with his head bleeding in the midst of the curly jungle on his scalp, a possible concussion was more than likely.

My body dropped to the floor, just like gravity does to us all. But this time, I wasn’t on a cloud. I felt as if I laid upon an ancient greystone. Or perhaps I was one. Either way, my body felt tight, and it's as if I had the weight of the world on top of my chest.

“Hendrix!” The King yelled in the distant chambers of my ears, running towards his fallen servant like a princess in dismay. “No! No! NO!” His voice trembled, arms and legs soaked in sweat.

“Get off Me!” Hendrix pushed him off, wobbling left and right as he picked himself off the ground. “It ain’t over yet!” His speech was slurred, and his left leg dragged along the ground, face covered in blood. His vision was hazy and dazed, as I realized he was walking in the wrong direction. He then shook his head, slapped himself into a grin, and dragged himself towards me.

The amount of pain his body was enduring was too much to handle, I thought. His brain must be sending numerous signals to all parts of his beaten body, masking the pain with a false reality.

The king barked again, “What the hell is taking so long? Kill him now!” Realizing that Hendrix’s brain wasn’t processing the pain receptors, or perhaps it nullified them into delusion. This was a tough sight to bear.

And with that, the final layer of ice had finally snapped inside of the man named Hendrix. His grin vanished, and he stopped himself, turning back around towards his King. “Shut up! Shut up! You go mand killem yu fat pugg!” Hendix shouted, his words becoming more and more fumbled with disorientation. One of his eyes began to droop, and his face dimmed a hazy blue.

The king took a step back, “I’m not going near him, are you crazy?! He’ll send me flying!”

Hendrix limped towards King Richard II silently, punching him in the face, bruising his knuckles. “I do mot follow. You mo nore.” His head jerked towards mine, eyes like a lighthouse in the trenches of the night.

His limp became more noticeable, and he stumbled in his own step, falling and picking himself back up more than my eyes could notice. His steps echoed through my hollow ears, each and every one quaking my motionless body.

“Leave… Hendrix…” I whispered as he towered over me. “Leave before you regret it…”

He laughed, his throat barely squeezing out his rapid breaths. “Amnwser me bhi —” His speech was crumbling like a tower of cards. He needed a bed, perhaps more than I did. “Bow dith I mot vee it dumping.” His tongue was lodged in his throat, and his body began losing motor control with every word he spoke.

“Once on the brink of death…” I answered, “Humans can do extraordinary things. Things one would never imagine are real, until they see it themselves… Even if it’s a single movement for last hope, our body will do whatever it can to survive.” I paused, letting my breaths settle. “It will fight through any pain. It will stop for no rest. And it will conquer any obstacle… Hendrix,” My eyes met with his, “Leave… This is no place for a man like you. Go to sleep… You need it…”

He laughed again, choking and mumbling words I couldn’t understand anymore. He then reached into one of his pockets and grabbed a small pocket knife the size of a comb. It took him a few seconds to flip it open, but once he did, I knew he wasn’t leaving.

“Jsds aij askas aosaj.” He mumbled, stabbing me in the chest, but with the wrong hand. His mind was working on far too many actions at once. It was desperately trying to put him to sleep, and he was desperately trying to stay awake. From what I’ve learned, those don’t mesh well with each other.

He stabbed again, finally noticing the hand he was stabbing with lacking the knife. After dropping the tiny blade, he picked it back up with his loose and tangled fingers, aiming it at my heart.

I closed my eyes again, imagining myself surfing the clouds like ancient gods in mythologies. The numbness in my body subsided, but my body wouldn’t go to sleep. I didn’t understand. My sweat had dried by this point, my fingers wouldn’t even dare to hold a pen and quill, and my eyes wouldn’t dart away from the knife being aimed at me.

What more could my body need? What else was it desiring? Did I need to fill out my last scar?

No… My body was alone. And it didn’t want to be.

As I laid on the tile floor, flat against my back, I thought for a moment. Why was the world like this? Cruel and unbearing. Violence and death around every corner. Whips and chains on the humble souls. Jewelry and power over the corrupted ones. It was quite fascinating, and yet, it haunted me.

Hendrix managed to get a solid hold of his small pocket knife, waving it around me a few times to make sure his arm worked properly. I could only imagine what his brain was fighting through.

He mumbled more words out of his mouth I failed to recognize, and his body began obeying his commands. Slowly, he raised his knife into the air, and just as he was about to force it into me, he stopped.

His mouth dropped open with a wide smile, and his body collapsed on the floor, motionless, asleep forever. A broken, rusted machete was sticking in his back, and a new pair of eyes looked down at me.

The same eyes that saved me before. The same eyes who rescued me off the ship. The same eyes I made a promise to.

The little slave girl, Laena, stood frozen in fear, Hendrix’s blood running down her hands, shaking them out of pure fear. Her eyes began to water, and her mouth swallowed itself into a black hole.

She quickly ran over to me, kneeled down, and began shaking me awake. Although, I already was, just barely. My vision was similar to if I was underwater, and I couldn't feel a single limb on my body. My chest pulled me further into a state of no return, and when I tried to speak, my throat restricted my airflow.

“Mister! Mister!” She cried, her hands trembling in fear. “Please don’t go!” She quickly placed her small frail hands against my heart, closed her eyes, and began to release a white glow from the tips of her tiny fingers.

At first, I thought I was dead, and this was the light taking me to the other side. But I realized that a bright light of white and gold was far from what I would see when I passed. If I fell to the grasp of death, I always imagined a pit of darkness taking me prisoner. A pit of pure blackness wherever I looked, and not a single flare of light for as long as I stayed.

My mind suddenly jerked awake, followed by the weight on my chest getting lighter and lighter. It's as if my body began floating back up to the surface, the light guiding my path. My breaths slowly began to get deeper, letting the air pass in and out of my damaged lungs, relaxing me. All the numbness and the pain slowly began to disappear like a gentle breeze carrying a feather. Drops of rain splashed across my neck, and as I looked up against the distant ceiling, those drops of rain were soft tears running down Laena’s cheeks.

As the white glow began to subside from her hands, all my stress and agony seemed to vanish along with it. The skin on Laena’s fingers cracked and dried, but she ignored the pain that came along with using her precious gift.

I sat up gently, letting the smell of dry blood and sweat keep me awake. “You have your father’s eyes.” I whispered to her, my gaze on the floor.

Teary eyed, she smiled, wiping the blood against her dirty scraps of clothes. “My father…” She tried to remember, as if it’s been far too long since she’s even heard of such a word.

“I made a promise to him I would find you.” I said, “And I’m afraid I broke his promise, for it was you who found me.”

Laena got up, giving me her calloused, bloody hand to grab. “Mister. I’ve never met my father... “ She sobbed, her tone shattered and humble.

I grabbed her hand, dry blood scraping against my skin from hers. “You will. That, I can promise.” As my balance was adjusting to my ribs being mended into place, my body nearly tipped over twice. Using the slightest bit of energy, I freed my gravity for the time being, letting my steps be as light as a leaf.

Meanwhile, King Richard II dashed for the exit out of his Hall. His attempt in a jog was pathetic. It was like watching a pig struggle through a pit of mud. The king stumbled and tripped against his own clumsiness, falling flat on his face against the tiled floor.

“Laena,” I said, keeping my eyes locked on the king. “Go hide by the Vault of Glass where my companion is sleeping, I will join you momentarily.”

She seemed starstrucked once I called her by her name. She wiped the last tear from her eyes—nodding with a rapid wobble—and did as I told her.

I took my time approaching the bastard on the ground. Just like when I was a simple boy who came about a door to freedom. I needed to leave my mark on the man in charge. But unlike last time, there was nowhere left to leave a mark on.

The king’s hands were gone, his courtyard and soon to be castle would turn to a pile of ash, and his strongest wardens had fallen. King Richard II had nothing left except his golden crown and his blasted son.

My steps came to a halt as the king crawled against a pillar, shivering in drops of sweat and fear. His mouth fell open, yet no words came.

“Do you know what is underneath these bandages?” I asked him, plainly.

His mouth mumbled whispers and prays. So, I punched him, hard, and straight in his jaw. “I don’t want to ask again.”

His eyes danced fanatically for a moment, and his cheek became flushed and swollen. However, he shook his head, whispering “No…”

“I didn’t think so,” I shook my knuckles to help loosen them from the numbness. “Underneath these bandages,” I gestured. “Are lives that I have stolen. From the first day I killed inside your Gulag, to the very last life I’ve taken. For each and every soul I’ve taken, I placed a scar on my arm, until there weren’t any spots left, and I moved over to my second one.”

King Richard II stayed silent, his jaw drooling and his crown beginning to tilt off his head.

“Only one spot remains. And for the longest time, I was sure you would be the one to fill that role. It practically had your name written on it.” I pointed to the spot underneath my bandage where there was open skin. “After all these times, I’ve wanted to fill that final spot with you, for you, because if I did, I believed that my soul would find the happiness it needed. Whether it was from me dying, or me killing you. My mind was settled on filling that final spot.”

I kneeled, face to face with the man who ruined my life. “281 scars are on my arms. That’s 281 lives I’ve stolen. Some had families, some never met theirs. Some were old, some were young. Some begged me for mercy, some wanted me to end it quickly. Some cried, some screamed. In the end, it didn’t matter to me, for I would still take their life.”

King Richard II coughed, his eyes afraid of mine. “What… Do you want me to do… Cry? You think… killing me, will give you happiness? Don’t make me… laugh.” His words were starting to get lost in hysteria, as his mind was accepting his death.

“No.” I answered. “Killing you will not change anything. I thought that maybe if I ended your life, it would attone for mine. But I was wrong, there is no secret recipe to wash all your mistakes away. One can only live their life correcting them, and only hope they don’t make the same mistakes again.”

“You know nothing…” He snorted, swallowing hot air down his thick throat. “After all I’ve done to you… You aren’t satisfied with putting me out of my misery?!” He coughed again, but it could have been a laugh; I couldn’t notice the difference. “You think... some pompous speech is your answer!?”

I sighed, standing back up on my own two feet. “I’m not giving you a speech, nor am I an innocent soul for sparing you. I want you to live the rest of your life, however long that may be, suffering in a tiny puddle of sweat and tears. Maybe not now, but soon you will realize how your actions will haunt you. Every day you keep living, your nightmares will get worse and more treacherous. All the lives you’ve stolen will tear you down, breath by breath and step by step, until you wished I would have killed you.” I placed my hand inside my pocket, brushing past the rough edges inside.

King Rihcard II kept his silence for a moment, thinking of what to howl back at me. Biting his lip, he screamed with a finger guiding his words. “I know you! The monster that you are! How can you walk away from the man that stole everything from you!” He coughed, resuming his charade of screams. “I killed all those kids and good-for-nothing weaklings in my lair! I burned towns and villages down to gather children for my army! I blamed it all on the Black Legion… and no one even dared to bat an eye at me! Blasted! It felt so good to rip those lives from their homes!” His throat began swelling up and down, sweat making his skin look as shiny as silver. He breathed like a maniac, and screeched like one too. “Kill me! Fulfill your suffering onto me! End it all you pathetic scoundrel! Show me the monster inside you!”

I took my hand out of my pocket, revealing a small brown device clenched inside my palm. I released my finger from the button, and out of a tiny hole on the bottom, a voice began to repeat the last of his cries. “I killed all those kids and good-for-nothing weaklings in my lair! I burned towns and villages down to gather children for my army! I blamed it all on the Black Legion… and no one even dared to bat an eye at me! Blasted! It felt so good to rip those lives from their homes! In fact, I’d do it again a million times over if I could!”

Looking at his face now, it topped his previous by a milestone. As his own voice played back at him, his eyes bloomed wide like a white dandelion. The sweat on his face seemed to freeze and shiver. His broken wooden hands fell back to the ground and his body began to slowly slide down the pillar. King Rihcard II was frozen like ice, and broken like glass.

I placed the recorder back into my pocket, turning it off for good. “Everyday you slumber, those lives you stole will drag you from your bed into the depths of the underworld. You will scream and cry to wake, but they will pull on you harder and drag you down deeper. You will never understand how precious a life is. How much of a gift it is to walk this world. I fail to understand at times, nonetheless, I face my demons face-to-face. You will not.” With my voice rusty and cold, I gave him one last look, and walked over to Tesla’s body by the Vault of Glass. Laena kept trying to shake him awake, as she didn’t have any energy left to use her gift. My hand rested itself on her shoulder, and I shook my head. “I’ll carry him, don’t worry.”

She smiled, standing back up with a lonely look.

“Laena,” I said, grabbing Tesla’s arms and folding him across my shoulder. “Do you know how to open the Vault?”

She nodded shyly, skipping to the back of the giant glass box and gesturing for me to follow.

I made my way around the polished corners of the Vault, then stopped as Laena held a finger directed at a large ship-like glass wheel. The diameter was roughly the size of the Vault, and the eight different bars of glass for turning the wheel were as thick as a salt jar. This was odd, for I didn’t see this before when me and Tesla first arrived.

I glided my finger across the smooth texture of the wheel, loosened its weight, and spun it with a gentle flick. The wheel turned, made a full rotation about ten times, then came to a halt, and a cling was heard from the front shelves of the thickened glass.

As both Laena and I curved towards the front again, the panel separating the shelves and the outside world was slid downward, open like a display.

“A Dragon’s Heart and the Key of Hysteria,” I whispered, eyeing the items like books in a library. “Do you happen to know what those items are?”

Laena reached up and snatched a small diamond-shaped glowing stone from the second shelf, handing it to me. Then, she grabbed a black key from the fourth shelf, this time however, shoving it into a random pocket of mine that happened to be open.

My eyes wandered across the other items, and since Sylvester already possessed the Twin Tales of Lust, there was nothing else Alastor said to be on the lookout for. Nevertheless, the ship inside the bottle and the apple tree looked far too valuable to be kept locked inside the castle walls. They were also quite large, so carrying both the items and a sleeping Tesla wasn’t very feasible.

However, my sincere attention kept dragging itself onto the horn and the book. “Do you know anything about this?” I asked Laena, cocking my head at the thin pages inside the cover.

She shook her head, so I grabbed it. Tombs and Trinkets, by Theodore Selvis. It read. My shoulders shrugged, and I slid it beneath my waist. I took this time to grab a few extra vials of red, blue, and green liquid.

I grabbed the horn, mentally asking Laena about it, but she didn’t know. After shoving it in my last pocket, I took another gander around the items, and began tightening all my clothes for a rough trip across the archway.

“Time to get out of this shithole,” I motioned, readjusting Tesla’s body on my neck.

I felt a sudden tug on the bottom of my leg as I was about to leave. My chest dropped a little, and Laena seemed as frightened as a child in a basement.

“Mister,” she tugged my leg again, “Please don’t go, I want to leave too.”

Slowly, I grabbed her hand with my free one. “I am not leaving.” I said, “We are.”