chapter lV

The sun had begun his journey, changing the sky a soft pink.

I return to the room, which I find empty, of course. He's long gone by now.

Now it looks like any other; seriously, I expected it to be filled with weapons or victim lists and to have its walls covered in blood or something. But it is just a room. And he is just a man—a very bad man.

who had invited me to join him for breakfast. It would have been smart to ask if I was going to be on the menu.

I run my hand through my hair, and I'm surprised by the fact that it isn't as tangled as I'd expected it to be.

I spot a window above the bed and stare at my reflection. I'mlooking fabulous. I have the casual just rolled out of bed style. You just need to add that you rolled out of bed and then went down a few streets while fighting a rabid cat.

After I make myself presentable, thanking Val for the small bag of cosmetics that made me feel more like myself, I head outside.

Once more, I have no idea where I should go. But fate seems to like to play games and make him appear before my eyes after she decides that she's tormented me enough.

Two small creatures rush past me. They barely reach my knees. As if they just noticed the giant that I'm returning to. One stretched his little hand and mimicked something, like he was asking me to come closer. If I'm being truly honest, they are the most bizarre creatures I've ever encountered. But they are kind of cute, with pointy noses and ears, big and sharp, round bodies in pastel colors, soft eyes, and their size.

They are as tall as a toddler. I presume I have the strength to take them out; probably I'll just need to kick them. Stop it! They are cute, and you don't need more enemies in this place. So I bent my legs to match the creature's height.

"You're the one we're supposed to escort?" The voice is so delicate, like a small dandelion. A very abnormal dandelion.

It is the first time I've encountered such mystical creatures, if I'm not mistaking them for pokés. The name remains that of our original baked tart, 'pika, which is made out of sweet bread, blueberry, and lemon cream. Wait, what was I doing? Oh. Yeah breakfast. As for the pokés

I believe Dark sent them. Well, it is far better than trying to guess my way here.

I give them a quick nod, and they lead the way.

I am in the biggest room I have ever seen. I noticed a large glass table filled with various foods and dishes. Stew, baked potatoes with gravy, warm bread, and tarts I think half the kingdom can hear my stomach growling.

Dark is sitting in a new outfit that falls within his usual color scheme. He lifts his eyes from the dish.

“I assume you know how to sit on a chair, so...”

“Yeah." My eyes scan the room. "Wait, we are the only two people here.”

And only two chairs have been put at the table on opposite ends.

I looked at the tablecloth, and I saw a stain.

"Is that blood or wine?" I point at it, hoping that my suspicions are just my imagination.

“Yes.” Oh, I bet he is smiling under that mask. He enjoys the look on my face as I decide to believe that's wine. His eyes focus on me as if he is trying to remember each line and curve of my face.

“Why are we the only ones here?”

He stuck his fork into a cheese block.

“Stop with the questions.”

“I'll stop when you answer.”

He let out a sigh as if nothing would be worse than having a conversation with me.

“Things can get a little messy around here, so if you actually want to eat, take breakfast early.”

“See, it wasn't that hard.”

I pulled up a chair and sat. It is far more fun to mess with him than it should be.

“Can't you eat and sit quietly?”

I stare at the table.

“No meat?” I don’t expect him to answer.

To my surprise, he does.

“Plant deviants worship animals, or sum. So no meat.”

“See, you can be nice when you try.” I said while stuffing my mouth with another baked potato, They are way too good. I'm almost tempted to lick my fingers to annoy him further. He is just moving his food around on the plate since he insisted on keeping his mask on. It is not like I care for whatever lies underneath. Some say his face is completely destroyed by an incident; others say his looks could kill, mostly ladies with a history of death who say such rumors; or they say that he simply does not wish his identity to be known.

Of course, because he is an illusionist, you can't believe anyone who states that they have seen it. If I were an assassin, I would probably try to hide my identity as well, but I'd pick the comfiest choice.

"This is almost nice." I say my thoughts out loud.

Then he has to ruin the moment. “Eat so you can heal and leave.”

And back to being a jerk.

The rest of our breakfast was spent in silence.

As I'm about to leave, he stops me, but he does not touch me.

Well, we've got work to do, so don't be so excited to leave just yet."

I think I'll go back to hiding under my bed now. I don't have the slightest clue what he is planning to do.

———

Thanks to the little people's help, whom I've learned are called Eho and Ed, I've managed to get back to the medical cabinet.

This morning is quite cold for the time of year, so it surprises me to find Val in a pair of thin pants and a short-sleeve top.

The cabinet smells wonderful, and now that it is lit by the soft morning sunlight, it seems larger and far more welcoming.

Val is sitting at her usual spot and wrapped up in her work, mixing a concoction of a pale violet shade.

I see the subtle light that appeared for just a moment when her wrist made a quick gesture. And a poppy flower popped out between her fingers.

I still can't believe that I'm standing this close to another deviant. And watching her do magic like it is totally fine.

Growing up, I never had the opportunity to even speak to one.

Even if I wanted to play with other kids, I've always been shy, and after losing Poe, I cut off all my so-called friends except for Poe. He was always there, even when I wished he wouldn't. He is a good brother, but he can't fix my past; no one can. And I can't be honest with him; Poe'd never understand.

But now I might have a chance to make things right and honor his forgotten name.

I'm done hiding or playing around; I'll break the King's men, set his world on fire, and then I'll watch him fall to his knees before me.

But for now, I've got a wound that requires a checkup.

I went behind Val's chair and looked over her shoulder.

"If it's for someone younger, you can add some honey to hide the bitter taste." I whisper in her ear.

In a second, she grabbed a pair of scissors and almost staggered me.

As she lowered the weapon, she glared at me. "Tarra! What in the name of Haran?" Haran is one of our many, many gods. He is the god of unwanted surprises or unfortunate events. "Are you doing? Seriously, do you try to die every day? Is it on your to-do list?"

"Well, but of course."

After schooling me for scaring her,

She ended up looking at my wound and complaining about how she wished her magic could fasten the healing even more than it did and that I really needed to be more careful.

It is not like I've walked into a knife while admiring the sky. Or like I'm looking for trouble. OK, maybe the second one's more of a lie.

I'm grateful to be in a familiar place. Since my dad is a doctor, I'm used to spending hours helping or just watching a patient.

If I were lucky, the patient would be young and, later, a possible friend. As Poe was.

But mainly they were old people on their last few days, and I'd sit and read my books, sometimes out loud for them, even if some would not be able or care to hear them.

Now I only read books for my walls.

Those days were far simpler. Now? Now I'm ready to finally deal with the hard ones.

———

Eho and Ed end up finding me again as I am leaving Val's workplace, and they are taking me to a fighting arena.

Even though I don't have a specific reason, I still count each step. It helps me stay focused and not throw up.

The fighting area is just a spot of well-leveled grass surrounded by trees that offer shade and make this place well hidden for eyes that don't know where to look. Also, they are wonderful noise-cancelling tools.

He took out his sword; the lecture was about to begin.

He gave a quick look to Valerian, and she quickly whispered "planteris," the plant spell, I guess, because she crafted a sword out of a tree branch.

She threw it at my feet.

I stare at the man before me. The calmness and relaxation in his limbs, the way his hair is moving softly in the wind, and the hue of his eyes against the clear sky are disturbing. I can tell it is not his first time holding a sword and that he ain't afraid of a fight.

Neither am I a pretty killer.

Then he finally spoke: “You might have magic, but here we all have it, so you need more than that to defeat any deviant. He let go of a deep breath before adding, "When you leave a mark on me, the training stops."

Without saying anything else, he started to move his sword around, making me understand that I had to be the first one to attack. I try and try again, but every single time I get close, which is barely close enough for me to touch him with the tip of my blade, he swirls around and blocks me with ease. He swings his sword like it is made from thin air, like another part of his arm, not a piece of perfectly forged steel.

And each time I fall, he just says one thing over and over again: "And you're dead."

I watch my steps and his. He doesn't risk each movement being precisely calculated, natural, and slow; he's toying with me.

I step right, he goes left; he's mirroring my actions, my shallow breaths, and each movement of my sword; it's like I'm fighting myself.

We're going in circles, neither letting ourselves have a moment of doubt or uncertainty. He seems fairly bored, like he wants me to do more and be more.

He turned his gaze from me to Val and ordered, “Give her a real sword.”

He does realize that he is basically invincible, and I was stabbed not even twenty-four hours ago, right? I cannot see how I can stretch this out any further.

Then another odd creature appeared.

She hurried away after carefully placing a sword on the ground.

She kept her head down and walked faster than I expected. She was probably scared of him, and to be honest, so was I, even if I didn't want to admit it.

I tried to lift the new weapon placed at my feet. The sword was much harder to move or lift than I'd expected, and I was getting extremely tired. My whole body was aching and sore. I don’t know if he did it intentionally, but I assume he did, and I know I would have done it in his place.

I could read in his eyes that his patient was running low, and my feet started to tremble and my stupid knees became unstable.

I try one last attack, channeling all my energy into that blow, but I fail again.

He pushed me, and I felt it on my back—the dust rising along my body and sweat stinging my eyes badly enough for my vision to become blurry.

I couldn't move. He bent over me, placing his sword on my chest. I wish I was wearing armor. With one more move, he could kill me. I want nothing more but to punch him hard enough for him to forget his own name, whatever that might be.

His eyes didn't seem so friendly anymore; they were as shiny as the sword, just as silver, just as cold.

Still, there was something about him that almost felt like he didn't wish to harm me. Still, I wouldn't bet my life on it.

“Well, this was disappointing. I truly expected more from you. This is why you aren't one of us; you might have the power of a deviant, but you have the body and the strength of a human.”

As I was listening to his words, a wave of anger hit me, and strength returned to me for a brief moment. That's all I need. I saw my sword and stretched my arm until my hand met the cold handle, gripping it tightly and confidently. With one determined move, I straightened it and watched as it stabbed Dark's hand so hard that it went all the way through.

“That, I believe, will leave a mark.” Through the pain and dirt, I managed to give him one of my poison smiles.

He got up and brushed it off like it was nothing. He almost looks surprised. Even though that's the kind of reaction he expected from me,

“Fair. Not the way you played, but still. Clean up before dinner; you look like a mess.” His words, however well chosen, didn't hide the surprise in his voice.

Val ran in my direction, her form nearly perfect.

“Tarra! You ok? You know what? That's a dumb question. Nope. I have to know, are you?”

“Yeah....” I said it in a not-very-convincing way. I believe that you can find a piece of my soul in every corner of this place. If my knees stopped shaking and my breath returned to normal, I'd be furious and probably break some things, but I'm too exhausted for any of that.

“That was amazing.” She gives me her arm, so I can finally get up. Even though I wish I could stay here in the dusty grass forever and take many naps,

“I could barely pick up the sword; how is that amazing?” I asked in disbelief.

She glanced at the sword and smiled. “Cursed sword.“

I should have expected it. Of course, he gave me a cursed sword. That also explains why he felt no pain when I legitimately made a hole through his forearm. He wouldn't be dumb enough to give me a real weapon while I've tried to arrest him and potentially mentioned something about killing him.

He did it to make me quit, and guess what? I'll never quit.

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