There have been a couple times in my life where I’ve been prompted to tell this story, and when I do I always get the same question, without fail. “Sage said you were his son? Well how did you react?” The answer to that isn’t exactly what you’d think. I don’t talk about it all that often, and I haven’t really mentioned it in this written account, but I did know my father. He was a great man, a strong man with a sense of justice unparalleled in all of Longan. A lot like Sage, maybe? Well, sort of. But not really, no. My father wasn’t a great man and often left home on journeys that were both fruitless and useless, as my mother would often rhyme in seemingly endless ways whenever the topic of him came up. In addition, he was a lot taller than Sage was, and he looked even older. So there was no way Sage could possibly have been my father, in all logical sense it was a strange thing for him to say. So when I heard him say I was his son, my reaction wasn’t that of a boy finding his long lost father. It was a captive weeping for joy that his savior had come.

I’d later learn the reason behind his statement was far more complex than I could have discerned based merely upon hearing it in the heat of the moment.

Sage stood at the edge of the ditch he’d made, awaiting Bitter’s return by weaving another ball in his hand in the meantime. I ran as far away as I could without losing sight of the battle. The way it was going, it looked like it would take up a significant area of the beach anyway.

Bitter rose from the hole, sand falling in droves all around him as he cracked his massive knuckles one by one. “Think this through,” Bitter said, an odd statement. “If you fight here and now, you will die.”

“Not if you keep talking,” Sage bellowed, launching the orb he’d been cooking. This time, Bitter sidestepped it eloquently and shook his head.

“I’m serious, Sage,” he said, looking more grave than he should. “You’re going to die today, and I’d rather keep you alive for another fight. But if you fight me today, you’re going to die. Just get out of here.”

In a flash, they were locked in a submission, Sage pulling up on Bitter’s head and pushing his knee into his spine. “If I were to leave, I would be allowed to take Peppermint with me?”

Groaning, Bitter croaked, “No.”

At that, Sage’s hands glowed green and he threw himself off of Bitter as fast as he’d gotten on. “Well, then let’s make this a good fight. If it’s going to be our last, then it may as well be our best.”

Bitter was on the ground coughing up heaps of spit and sand, and quickly it became choking, then even quicker it was hoarse laughter. By the time he was on his feet he was in tears, and I was a hundred steps away wondering what punchline I had missed. “A fool to the end,” he wheezed. “But one I will cherish. Let’s finish this, you horrible bastard.”

What commenced then was the fastest, most brutal beatdown I had ever witnessed up to that point and is still a contentender for the most even fight I’ve ever seen in my life. It was implied, and later confirmed to me that Bitter and Sage had fought a ton in their lifetimes, even on a few occasions being partnered together in the same army. They were lifelong rivals, and they shared a respect for one another that was unparalleled on the battlefield. All of this also meant that, despite Sage being ridiculously powerful, Bitter knew all of Sage’s powers and had a huge one of his own: he was hard to hurt. Dammit, more than that he was impossible to hurt. Some might have said he was an immortal, others might have said he was a god. No matter what, though, you had to give him credit for one thing; he could take endless beatings and get back up.

They started out by trading blow for blow, each hit sending them digging their feet deeper and deeper into the sand, Sage hitting Bitter with fists to the face, and Bitter knocking Sage off balance with penetrating elbows to the stomach. After taking some of those hits, Sage was looking weak. He’d been dealing with all those other soldiers already, so by this point he was probably much more exhausted than he was letting on. So in an attempt to end things faster, he started implementing Vastmire into his attacks, using everything that he had to beat Bitter down.

Bitter picked up on this fast, sidestepping Sage’s next punch, allowing him to counter. Sage nearly fell over due to following through too much, and when he turned around his face was met with a lariat, sending him nearly head over ass into the ground with such speed I might have laughed if the stakes weren’t what they were.

“You said this fight would be our best,” Bitter yelled, spitting blood. “This has yet to be in my top ten. You’ve wasted too much energy. Just take my advice, Sage, and leave this place.” Bitter then knelt down and hoisted Sage up so that his ear was next to his mouth, and I think he whispered something to him. I couldn’t hear anything from my position, all I saw was the blast Sage hit him with that sent him careening into the trees, out of sight. Sage took off in a flash and there was a silence so unnerving that I was in the process of deciding if I should follow when I saw Bitter’s body fly from the trees into the air, so high above the ground it looked like he was a star. Sage leapt after him, not wanting to allow him time to recover. He grabbed him by the ankles and spun once, twice, thrice, then on the fourth spin he let go and Bitter was hurtling toward the ground like a meteor. His landing sent sand flying everywhere, and I shielded my eyes with my left hand in my face, almost forgetting that I held a dagger in my right hand. When the sound of sand raining down had ceased, I peaked out and saw Sage continuing the onslaught without stopping. He was parallel to Bitter, floating a step above him, launching a flurry of fists into his stomach with enough strength that the ground started to crater all around him. The most unsettling part was the noise; Sage was yelling this guttural, beastly roar that was designed to place fear in the hearts of men. I felt myself backing away, and I had to tell myself that there was nothing to fear.

It was then that I heard water splash, and I gasped as I turned and saw Sour bent over, coughing up water and looking like a wreck, his armor torn in places and absolutely waterlogged. His helmet was ripped, which was a feat in itself considering it was steel, revealing a bright blue eye that shone in the moonlight with a rage that seemed never ending.

He was looking at me.

The fear I had just told myself to get over came back even stronger, and I nearly dropped my dagger.

Some of you might be confused, thinking I had become more used to fighting. Why in this very account I argued it myself, telling Sage that I should fight. That I had grown.

This was the moment I was starting to become aware that I had grown, but not enough.

Sour’s glare was stronger than anything Dil and his harpies ever did, stronger even than Chrys’s gaze. Perhaps even stronger than Bitter’s, who had an air of good humor even when he was being scary.

Slowly, agonizingly so, Sour took step after step, water flowing ceaselessly from every opening on his suit of armor, dampening the sand around him and quickening the flow of my blood from my head to my heart. My legs said run. I looked behind me and saw that Sage and Bitter were still going back and forth, Bitter now skipping Sage across the sand like a stone on water.

I looked back and saw Sour still limping towards me, dragging his sword, drawing a line in the sand that would soon lead to me.

My decision was made before I thought to make it. My legs just started moving, before I even turned all the way around. I ran, one step, two steps, and already on the third step I fell, my mouth now full of sand, my eyes burning from the grains, and the twister in my head wreaking havoc on my ability to solve this problem before me.

Sour stood a few steps away now. He raised the sword in his hand slowly, making a huge arc that went from the ground in front of him to behind his head, nearly a whole circle.

I spit sand from my mouth, crab walking back, ready to hold my dagger up to defend myself. I tightened my grip around the hilt. My stomach flipped; I was clenching sand.

The blade came down on me slowly, soundlessly. I rolled, curled in a fetal position, hopeful I would dodge.

I think I would have dodged it.

Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to.

I heard a roar and a clank, followed by a cry that was decidedly high pitched, and a splash that was familiar and welcome. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted with Chrys standing above me, roaring out a challenge in my defense.

“Are you alright, Mint?” he asked, still standing above me.

“For now,” I choked out, still struggling with the sand in my teeth. “What about you?” Something hot hit my arm, and I saw blood was dripping freely from his left leg. “You’re hurt.”

“Just a scratch,” he said. “Those soldiers were quick to enjoy me as an ally. Not long after you and Conifer left, we were under attack.”

“Sorry about that,” I groaned, annoyed. “I should have adhered to your warnings.” I crawled out from underneath him and saw his face was even worse than his leg, a long cut going across one cheek, over his nose, and onto the opposite cheek in a neat, symmetrical line, draping his mouth and foliage in dark red ichor.

“You’re healthy,” he said, still watching where Sour fell into the water. “That’s all I care about. Where is Conifer now?”

I pointed to the boat he’d been taken to, then glanced back toward where Sage and Bitter were. Now Sage was holding him down, threatening a green orb to Bitter’s face.

“Chrys, would you come with me to that boat?”

He looked at me with a blaze in his eyes. “You wish revenge on Conifer?”

I shook my head. “As much as he probably deserves it, no. We’re going to save him, along with whoever else is there.” Digging around in the sand for a moment, I found my dagger buried below where I had fallen. “I’m unsure, but I think they have Rose and her mother on that boat, perhaps more. If we can save them, then maybe we can get out of here.”

“Can’t we commandeer that boat once we release them and remove the guards?” Chrys suggested.

“If things go well, then that sounds fine to me,” I said with a nod, and with one last look behind me, we ran off toward the boat, kicking sand up all around us. I did my absolute best not to look behind me, and my body was hot with worry.

When we reached the boat, I scrambled up the hull and hid behind the portion of the hull which rose up to form a rail. I peaked out from my spot and saw that Bitter and Sage were still very busy, and Sour was nowhere in sight—at least, I couldn’t see him in that short glance, which meant he most likely didn’t know where I was. I breathed a sigh of relief, holding a hand to my forehead in anticipation and pain from the ache it held.

Chrys nudged me with his muzzle and I nearly hit him due to nerves. His eyes were as close to worried as they could get despite a lack of expressiveness inherent in his beastly face. “Come,” he whispered, as gently as I’d ever heard him. “Let’s get this done before things get worse, Mint.”

Those words nearly had me break down, but instead I nodded and followed Chrys, crouching so I could remain as hidden as possible. The sun was beginning to peak out over the horizon, and I knew that we had little time to get this all done. We eased ourselves down a few steps, and when we got to the door Chrys flicked his head towards it, wordlessly telling me to open it for him so we could stay as silent as possible. Slowly, I pushed the door inward, and it creaked louder than any door I’d ever heard. We poked our heads in, but saw no one there to greet us and decided we’d split up from there, Chrys going forward, and I going left.

The halls of the boat were dimly lit, with nothing but a few candles sparsely strewn about. My left hand was on the wall, my right on my dagger, and every little noise had me on edge. It didn’t take too long for me to see a door at the end of my hall, and with trepidation I opened it.

It was pretty dark in that room as well, with two candles at the far corners lighting things and no windows to allow for additional aid in the trial of sight I was about to undergo—at high speed, no less. There were three people in the room, two were standing and one was crouching it looked like, or sitting on a chair that was low to the ground. The standing ones moved when they saw me, and when they turned a shadow fell across their bodies, and I wasn’t sure if they were enemies. But the energy that I felt was sinister, and instinctively I ran forward and stabbed with my little dagger, staying low to the ground so I wouldn’t get hit. My body was still not quite healed from my fight with Dil, and I felt off in my movements, nearly tripping when I went to lunge my blade forward but maintaining my balance. I heard three noises in that moment, two deep voices grunting in surprise and a female voice gasping and sobbing. My dagger vibrated with a deeper voice, and with their position given away I yanked the blade awkwardly and sliced it through the remainder of my targets stomach, swinging it from one body to the next to take them both out in one motion. Writing this, I still can’t believe it worked; anyone using this as some sort of guide to combat should know that they should never, and I mean never, practice any of the things I mention in this book. The style of my childhood fighting was primarily one of luck and savagery that more often than not resulted in my own injury just as much as the injuries of my enemies.

If you’d like any sort of advice, actually, here’s my biggest tip for fighting: Don’t do it. Just don’t fight. Seriously. It’s not worth all the trouble, and more often than not you can work something out with people and come to an understanding. Ideological solutions like this are more typically regarded as fantasy, unconventional, and poor choices all around when a sword will finish the job just fine. But the world that most people want is a good world, and if you don’t take the step to really attempt diplomacy you will just keep breeding the sort of violence you hate. A wise man once said violence breeds violence.

Word is, he was killed for it.

Anyway, back to me murdering two men I couldn’t see.

Removing the blade from my victims, I kicked them both in the head a few times for good measure, then took a moment to analyze my blade. The edges were already knicked. I wasn’t sure how many times I could do that, but based on the damage to it I knew that it wouldn’t take many attacks like that to decimate the dagger and turn it into a thin, useless club.

“Shit,” I mumbled, wiping the blood from it. Then I whispered, “Is that you, Rose?”

“It’s her mother, Parsley,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m tied up, I can’t move.”

“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “Don’t worry, just hold still and I can cut you free.”

When I went to saw at the ropes that had her hands and feet tied, the blade was already unable to get through the rope without heavy force applied to it. I’m thankful that Parsley wasn’t an idiot like me and was able to use her head in that moment, because she said, “Don’t do that! If you cut through with that much force you’ll end up cutting me!”

I pulled the dagger away fearfully, staring at the ugly fray of the knot before darting my eyes around for an idea.

“Just grab one of theirs,” Parsley said, nodding toward the bodies on the floor. “They should have something for this and I’m sure it will be much better than that.”

I tossed the dagger to the floor, happy to be rid of it. Feeling around on their bodies as softly as possible out of fear they’d come back to life, I found a knife on the first one that was sheathed in his belt loop. It was short, but didn’t have the ragged edges of mine and looked more reliable for the task I needed of it. Taking it back to Parsley proved its worth, as it cut the ropes with buttery ease and I didn’t hurt her in the process. When I went down to cut loose her ankles, she shivered and demanded, “We have to go find Rose.”

“Where is she?” I asked, tossing the rope aside.

Parsley rubbed at where the rope had burned her skin on her wrists before shaking her head. “They separated us when we got here. But I know she’s here, so we just have to find her.”

Smirking, I turned the other body over and found a knife on him too. His was a little longer but of similar make and feel, unremarkable but reliable. I put the smaller one through my own belt loop and held the longer one at the ready. “You seem pretty calm, considering the situation.”

“I’m not,” she declared, matter-of-factly. “I just know what we must do.” Then she pushed past me, ready to find her daughter.

I should probably have gone in front of her, but my ability to lead was never good, and her determination was intense. “Stay close to me,” she whispered. I just nodded, following obediently.

We creaked along the tired floorboards as quietly as we could, careful not to alert anyone of our presence. Parsley grabbed the first candle we passed so we would have better light, and I could avoid hugging the walls as we went. In only a few steps, however, a loud roar pierced through the silence and Parsley nearly jumped from her skin.

“Shh,” I said. “Don’t worry, it’s just Chrys. He went down the other end of the boat to help save you guys.”

“So he might be with Rose then?” she asked, wary.

I nodded, and I’m sure she was more worried than if I said I wasn’t sure what the noise was. Most people weren’t exactly fond of him, and I could tell that Parsley was definitely in the group of people who thought he was more dangerous than helpful. I couldn’t blame her. She couldn’t hear what he had to say, and placing blind faith into a creature like him is downright stupid.

No offense to him, of course.

Parsley got a rude awakening that night.

A loud roar came again and we stopped by the stairs. Then another roar, and I could tell it was angry. I was scared for whatever Chrys was dealing with, but Parsley was immobile. I grabbed her shoulder and she screamed.

“Parsley! Parsley calm down!” I shouted, sure no one would hear us with Chrys making all that noise. “Let me go on ahead, if you want you can go up these steps and wait there.”

She shook her head. “No, no, let me follow.”

“Okay, just stay calm. It’s going to be okay, I didn’t come here just to fail.” She looked like she wanted to cry, but she kept her face as straight as possible and stayed close behind me, her light helpful in that dim hall.

There were a few doors along that hall, more than the other hallway, but the roaring was obviously coming from the end of the hall and a few of the doors were opened, as if people had left to see what the commotion was. This had me worried; Chrys might be fighting more people than he can handle. I found myself running, leaving Parsley winded as she tried to keep up with me, and when I pushed the door open I was greeted with a more confusing scene than I had anticipated.

Nine or ten bodies were strewn out around what was a mostly empty room, windowless and furnitureless, with four candles in each corner of the room keeping things bright near the walls and dim in the center. The center of the room was the stage, however, as a vicious argument was taking place between Conifer and Chrys, albeit a one sided one.

“You idiot!” Chrys snarled to Conifer, who was also tied up but stuck lying on his side, facing the wall away from me. “You limp-backed, no good, frivolous pile of—”

“Chrys, that’s enough,” I yelled, loud so I could be heard over his roaring and Conifer’s whimpering. “He can’t even understand what you’re saying, remember?”

“I know,” Chrys growled, inching toward Conifer’s shaking form. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t get the message.”

Sighing, I nodded. “You’re probably right,” I muttered. “Well, stop anyway. Was he the only one in the room?”

Parsley came out from behind me, now a little more sure of herself seeing my demeanor change. “Where’s my daughter?” she asked. “Where’s Rose?”

Conifer, between heavy breaths, replied, “I’ve only been here for a little while. I haven’t seen Rose anywhere.”

Parsley asked again, and I could feel the tension emanating off of her, so I decided to go back and see if there was anything going on in the rooms whose doors were left open. They were all devoid of life; there was a storage room, a small kitchen area, and a larger room that was filled with beds and a few windows facing toward the sea. I turned those rooms upside down, but there was no sign of anyone.

When I returned, Chrys was waiting by the door. I looked at him confused and he said, “They’re talking, and it’s a little too personal for us to be a part of.”

“Ah,” was all I said. “Well, uhm… Any clue what we should do as far as finding Rose?”

“She should still be on the boat,” Chrys said. “Maybe we missed something above deck? There isn’t anywhere she could be down here.”

I agreed, and we decided to leave Conifer and Parsley alone. I glanced back and saw that Conifer was sobbing into Parsley’s chest, while she held him tenderly. I’m unsure of what I missed. I hope they’re doing alright, wherever they are.

When we came out above deck, we were greeted with deafening silence. The sort of silence that you wouldn’t expect from what we had left behind. I was worried about Sage, and wanted to peak my head above the rails, but Chrys was already moving toward the captain’s room and I knew I needed to stay with him just in case things got bad.

I followed close behind him, crouched down with my arm under my nose from the cold. The sun was nearly out, but the early morning freeze was still very real and I didn’t want to sneeze and give away my position. Sour could still be out there, after all. He was in the same league as Bitter for a reason, I figured.

The door to the captain’s room was wide open as the other doors had been. Evidently, Chrys was loud. Or maybe whomever was previously occupying the room had vacated it in favor of aiding in the war waging on the beach, I’m unsure of the situation. Either way, we entered the room and saw that Rose was in fact there, untied and wandering around for some reason.

“Rose?”

She looked like she was going to faint upon seeing me. “Mint! Oh goodness, what are you doing here?”

“No time to explain, it’s dangerous here; we have to go.”

“I know,” she smirked. “That’s why I made my way up here. Things got too hectic down there, and they stopped looking after me. I decided I’d commandeer the ship.”

“Great,” I said. “That was our idea. Come on, let’s go grab everyone and get out of here.”

“Actually, would you mind bringing them here?” she laughed, airy and without a care. “I’ve hurt my ankle, you see, and walking down all those stairs would be difficult.”

I checked and she was right. Her ankle was swollen and bruised a multitudinous amount of dark hues, a spectrum my eyes couldn’t fathom in the night. “Right,” I nodded, then turned to Chrys who was looking wary.

“Would you mind staying here and guarding her?” I asked him, just about out the door. He moved a paw to block my path and gave me a look.

“Mint, what do you mean? No one’s here.”

I felt my head reactively, in a subconscious attempt to reason why perhaps she was a figment of my mind, then when I came up short I walked over and grabbed for her hand, falling through her fading being and nearly twisting my own ankle in the process. Chrys came to my aid right away, asking if I was okay, which I was as far as physical abrasions were concerned. My sanity, however, was in question.

“I saw her here, Chrys,” I said, describing it. “She was as real as you are. If you hadn’t been here, I couldn’t have told the difference. I never hit my head or anything that you know of, have I? There’s nothing I need to know that I don’t already?”

Chrys did his best to frown and shook his head. “As far as I’m aware, we’re up to speed and you’re perfectly healthy. There must be some other reason for this. Best we not dwell on it and instead focus on finding her or choosing to get out of here.”

I blinked at that. “What do you mean?”

“We can’t dally here long, Mint,” he said, grave. “The longer we stay here, the easier it will be for us to get caught up in this battle and lose each other, maybe permanently. You need to decide now if this Rose girl is important enough for us to stay here.”

Of course, Chrys was right. The longer we stuck around, the more easily Sour or Bitter could get us, and though I figured I was in no danger of losing my life, they certainly were. And even though I’d live, I was sure my fate would be worse than any death that could be dealt to me. At the time, however, the very fact he would insinuate we could leave anyone behind seemed remiss, even lazy. I shook my head so fast the wind cooled down my hot, reddened cheeks.

“We must get her, Chrys. Leaving without her would not be something a king would do.”

Chrys, still adamant, lowered his head and said, “There are kings who lack such ideological benevolence in favor of using more logical retreats, enduring losses of necessary casualties only. Low stakes gambling compared to such a high stake game you wish to play.”

Haughtily, I pushed his paw aside and said, “High stakes game or not, Parsley will kill us if we leave her daughter here. We will look for her now, or else face the wrath of that virago.”

“Virago?” he asked, which made me laugh. For some reason, the thought that my beastly comrade was poorly read was funny to me. I still smile at the thought of him putting on a pair of glasses and reading by candlelight, having an earnest yet difficult time pronouncing foreign words or underused vernacular in his head and asking me for help. Oh what a wonderful, useless imagination I have.

“I’ll explain another time, let’s just go find Rose. She can’t be far. I’d imagine she might be on another boat, or maybe on the shore somewhere.”

Leaving the captain’s room, I started to say, “You go let Parsley and Conifer know while I get off this boat and find another place to search,” but I thought better of it. Instead, I suggested he go search for Rose and I let them know what the plan is. Not only could I actually speak to them, but Chrys was in a better position as far as self defense went. He leapt off the boat in a jolt, and with one last look at him as he soared over the rails, I ran down the stairs and through the hall as swiftly as I could.

Parsley and Conifer were still sitting together intimately, speaking of things, of what I know not. I think it was mostly just them discussing them, really. Love is complicated, and their relationship was certainly no exception. I knocked on the door panel to get their attention and they both jumped simultaneously at the noise.

“Sorry,” I chuckled. “Didn’t know how to get your attention in a nicer, less intrusive way. Rose isn’t here, so we’re going to search for her elsewhere.”

“Okay,” Conifer shrugged. “Parsley and I will stay here then.”

I was just about to object when Parsley did it for me, in much more vulgar fashion than I would have. I struggle to remember the words she said, but her face really told all. The candlelight caused shadows to dance on her face so ominously I should think Conifer felt all manner of demons were out to eat him. Ah, that’s what she said! “I will eat you and feed the bones to the fish, you cowardly, yellow, puss of a bard! Now we will go find my Rose or so help me I will cut off the only thing on you that sings sweet music, and I’m not talking about your tongue!”

And that was when I learned that you could be given a compliment and an insult in the very same sentence.

“That’s enough you two!” I said with a smile. “We have to get going now, and I’ll leave you behind if you don’t keep up.”

“Well you heard the prince!” she barked, and against his will Conifer came with us in search of Rose.