Andrea’s screams clawed at the valley walls. Pain writhed under her skin and open wounds bled freely, but she endured–she always had.

  Mace gripped her hands, activating his gift. A green light hummed in the smoky air as Andrea cried out. Rae helped him drink water as Ryder and Sarah got more from the river.

  Sarah carried a light with her, collecting water in one of their large drinking flasks. The waves were loud close to the river’s edge, muffling the screams slightly. Mist sprayed in Ryder’s eyes while he tried to find the winding river’s end. It was nowhere to be seen—just darkness. It reminded him of his times in Fenrim when he felt nothing. Emptiness.

  “You think this is our source?” she said. “Or is it the wolves?”

  “Could be both,” he said, shrugging. “The test was combat, so they should be safe.”

  Sarah dipped the flask in the cold water. “You're still going to eat and drink it first.”

  “Shocker.”

  Ryder squatted and picked up a shining stone from the riverbed. “The sun likely won’t appear on this floor. No algae on any of these rocks. We need to keep the fire strong and collect wood from the trees around the river.”

  “We also need to find an area for baths,” Sarah said, nodding. “Currents are too rough here. I’ll send the twins later to scout. Let's head back.”

  Emily tended to a large campfire at the center of their camp, putting a pot in the flames. The campfire’s smoke added more to the already heavy air, but the ash from the burnt flowers finally stopped. Blue flowers scattered the area, where Emily’s flames had not spread. The camp sat in the middle of the scorched flowers which started from the entrance of the valley and ended around the camp—a black scar amongst the blue, much like the tower.

  The screams were louder now. A cold glare from the goddess of fire hit Ryder in the face when he returned. The two hadn’t talked much, and neither looked eager for a chat. The pot boiled with the water from the river, adding more particles to the polluted air. It stung Ryder’s eyes, which already wore a half-shut expression.

  The King’s words ran through his head. Watch her. Protect her. But the screams continued as Ryder sat. His teeth clenched hard with every scream, making his cheeks feel like stone. She was the number one priority, yet he did nothing as she launched herself into danger. Things would be different the next time. His eyes won’t leave her. Never again.

  “How could she be so reckless with that power?” he mumbled. “The goddess of war’s children never meet an enviable fate.” Sarah furrowed her eyebrows and shot him a dirty look. “Do you know the gift?"

  “Yeah, doesn’t everyone? It's no secret. The longer the battle, the stronger she gets. However, all the damage that was inflicted hits her later.”

  Ryder paused.

  “But it's double.”

  Emily’s cold stare turned to something closer to confusion. Even Rae looked at him while she drowned Mace with water. Flint wasn’t within earshot, but he would have likely shared the same confused expression even though he was in the Lion’s Guard.

  The archer’s hands reached for the ashy air, grabbing Ryder’s collar. “How could you possibly know that? I had to bend over backwards for the Counsel to get that information! No way your eyes can see that much!”

  Ryder stumbled backwards at the sudden accusation, landing on his rear. Even from his few interactions with the girl, he could see she had ice running through her veins. Always steady regardless of the danger, and her arrows reflected that. His mind raced as he thought of the right words, but could only think of the truth. As bad as it made him look. “Someone told me, obviously."

  The King was a reserved man, but his words spilled out in Ryder’s cell numerous times. Like the proud father he was, he might have let a few things slip about his daughter. Ryder never complained.

  “Fucking spy,” she said, gritting her teeth. Then, realization washed over her face. “No, not even a spy would know that. The war with Beldovia was a long time coming, but still they wouldn’t get spies that deep! No way! So how do you know? What is your gift really?”

  “That’s a little naive for you to dismiss it as being spies,” Ryder said, standing up. His thoughts grounded themselves after his tumble. “Don’t assume anything you can’t put your life on. I’m no King’s Scholar, but I remember that much from class. But in truth, I’m not a spy. Just a prisoner.”

  Ryder added the last few sentences not to convince them–they would never believe just his word–but he wanted the truth to be said even if it only made things worse.

  The water boiled over the top of the pot, spilling onto the hot coals as the cold, yellow eyes held firm. “Those fucking eyes,” she spat, breaking her stare. “Always looking so sly and that tired expression that follows you like a shadow. Was it just a trick trying to make us look like fools?” Her words spilled freely as if she were talking before thinking. “If anyone had reason to kill, it was you! And you know since the Royal Tower, I’ve wondered how your eyes looked. Did they finally look alive? Did they have any light in their darkness? After you slaughtered the Royalty.” She took a deep breath and put extra emphasis on the last. “And your friends.”

  It took everything in Ryder’s power to not give his eyes the color she so wished to see. However, the heavy, glossed-over eyes kept their half-asleep, yet calm and slow look. Just tired with nothing else. Or so he hoped. The yellow eyes looked away and never looked back after her statements. It was a strange expression, but he had seen it on others' faces before. Like when a child gets scolded by their parents–shame.

  “Hey! We need that water, Emily,” Rae said, hoping to break the awkward silence. “His Vice is draining our supply fast. I can combine it with our water to cool it down.”

  The petals crunched as Emily hurried to Mace’s side, pouring the pot into another. Rae moved the combined pot to Mace’s lips, tilting it slightly.

  “Wait,” Sarah said, dejected. “Drink it.”

  The dark eyes gave the same look they always had, looking for the weary yellow in the night. She avoided him while he drank from the pot. Nothing happened.

  “Happy? I thought you might understand, but I guess not.”

  Ryder held his gaze, but she pretended not to see him and turned. The words seemed to cut deep, but not deep enough. She moved him away from the darkness and closer to the center of the light near Flint. “Watch him, Flint. Keep him contained, but do not hurt him. Let him rest.”

  Flint flicked mud off his shoes as he sat on the side of a fallen tree. The roots remained attached even after he ripped them out of the ground. Olivia sat next to him, swaying in the wind from the valley.

  “What's up with her?” Sarah asked.

  “Don’t know. She doesn’t want to talk, but she doesn’t seem to be all there either,” Flint said, eyeing the girl. “Can’t find her chains, so we will just have to watch her closely.”

  “That's literally a spy, and she gets to walk free,” Ryder groaned, shaking his chains.

  “And you're a murderer,” Flint mocked. “Now, come sit next to your executioner and clean my boots.”

  “My hands are tied, dumbass.”

  “Then use your tongue.”

  “Enough,” Sarah said, rubbing her forehead. “Just watch him until dinner is ready. It won’t get started until Mace is done.”

  Ryder huffed, but sat on the log next to Flint. The screaming came to a quick end when he sat. Andrea was finally asleep–after 2 hours.

  “Finally,” Mace said, whipping sweat off his brow. “She is stable.”

  “When will she wake?” Rae said.

  “Eh, a few hours. Maybe more.”

  “Good work, Mace. Get some rest.”

  Mace’s body shook from exhaustion. He used his gift for multiple hours straight, healing Andrea’s wounds till they were no longer fatal. He rubbed his temples and asked for more water. The giant wolf’s corpse didn’t bother the boy as he walked to the sleeping bags. He fell asleep instantly.

  The Red Wolf rested with its head pointed at the campfire. The rest of its body was shrouded in darkness. When the red beast fell, the left side of its face settled on the floor with its top and bottom jaws resembling the valley that sat to the group's rear.

  Nine beds lay in the ring of fire, avoiding the muddy patches from the fighting. The tenth bed sat in a muddy spot away from the others–in the middle of the Red Wolf’s lifeless jaws. Flint’s doing most likely. Ryder knew it was his, but he smiled. At least they brought me one, he thought.

  His head tilted while inspecting the interior of the beast’s maw. Images of Andrea’s bloody hair flying through the air resurfaced as he looked at the cracked fangs. His eyes drifted past its snout, stopping at the hole in its head. Death was no stranger to the boy, but the wound between its eyes was unnerving. Unnatural.

  How much force was behind that punch? Could I even dodge this? He wondered while moving his sleeping bag. However, he was interrupted by the sound of metal clanking against itself. It had been a few hours since Mace fell asleep, but dinner was finally ready.

  Connor handed out bread from their supplies as Andrew chopped up the leftover meat which would be preserved in salt for later. The boys were serious about their cooking.

  “Connor! Were you born yesterday?” Andrew said. “Could you help Emily get the temperature right for the hot coals and then prepare the cheese?”

  “We were born at the same time, dipshit,” Connor mumbled.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. I’ll get on it soon,” Connor said, smacking the back of Andrew’s head. “Just worry about yourself.”

  Andrew dropped his knife on the fallen tree he was using as a cutting board, turning with thin lips.

  “Oh no, y’all don't," Flint said, crossing his arms. “I still have scratches from the last time y’all threw a fit. You fight over the dumbest things.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Laughter filled the air as everyone sat around the fire waiting for the food to cook. Even Mace woke up from his slumber with a savage appetite for the small boy.

  Andrea's chest rose and fell rhythmically. Her body needed more time to nurse its wounds. She slept at the second campfire a few steps away. Ryder tried not to make it obvious when he looked. Flint and Emily caught him a few times, but their dinner was more important.

  Ryder’s bowl steamed with a flavorful scent. However, he couldn’t eat it; his hands were tied. The others devoured the bread and cheese, waiting for him to eat the meat. Of course, Flint found it humorous watching him struggle in his chains, and the others didn’t make any effort to help. Except Sarah. She rose from her seat on the fallen tree and walked to the boy, who sat opposite to the tree. She took the meat from Ryder's bowl and shoved it into his mouth. An awkward wait transpired as they watched him chew and swallow.

  Nothing happened.

  Sarah followed next, and the others reluctantly ate. Once the tender food hit their tongues, nothing could stop them from devouring every morsel. Not even poison.

  The laughter grew louder after dinner. Most of the party did not know each other, but a few did. The twins and Flint knew Andrea, and by association, Sarah knew them too. The two girls were always joined at the hip, unless they had class or an important ceremony. The others only knew each other from stories, if at all. Of course, the one everyone knew sat by himself, resting his eyes. The girl who no one knew, Olivia, sat unattended. Her food had gone cold next to her, untouched.

  Everyone chatted and told stories that warmed the air around them. Tales of the beautiful Monfell flowers, the Splitshire waterfalls, and the Kingsland salt flats were all topics of discussion. The atmosphere shifted focus from the tower’s darkness to the warm fire’s flames. Emily let out a few giggles as the fire kissed her glee-filled face. Ryder didn’t think she could look so happy with him around. Although he thought the same thing about Mercy and he was wrong then too.

  Rae talked Andrew’s ear off about her favorite books she had to leave behind. He looked to be paying attention, but his eyes were distant with each complex theology the girl brought to his attention. Connor and Sarah chatted about what they had done after the academy. She talked of her position in the Royal Capital as the Princess’s personal guard, and he reminded her of his knighthood in the Royal Army–for the 1,000th time. A light-hearted competition that stretched back to their days at the academy. They were two years apart, but they spent a lot of time together with Andrea.

  “Where is the boy at?” Flint shouted with a grin, “There he is!” He wrapped his tree trunk arms around Mace. “What would we do without you?”

  The others laughed and cheered as Flint lifted Mace on his shoulders, parading him around. Mace went beet-red from blushing and spitting out his water. He was likely not used to the attention. Earlier in the conversations, Ryder overheard him talking of his hometown–Lignum. It was outside of Artros in the woods of Helgof–a deep wooded area with lots of wildlife, but few people. Take any of the city folk to the forest's edge, and they would be dead in a few hours. The forest residents learned to adapt, developing their own little paradise within its roots. However, Lignum is a vassal of Artros, meaning Mace had to fulfill his mandatory service as a blessed child. An obligation nobody can refuse, not the Princess. Not even the Prince when he walked among the living. No one.

  The lighthearted talking turned from the outside world back to the inside of the tower. A child’s first tower was a special thing, regardless of its difficulty. Nobody forgets them, good or bad.

  Stories of the towers were shared as the mood turned slightly competitive. Not that clearing more towers signified more power, but respect often followed from a high number of completions. Only fools disrespected those that entered the towers on their behalf. Unless, it was the boy who shattered the Academy’s completion record. The one sitting in isolation.

  “I got ten under my belt,” Flint boasted. “Though I skipped my last year at the academy and went into my family’s private military.”

  “It must be nice to be a part of the Lion’s Guard,” Andrew said. “What’s it like being the Royal Family’s personal guard anyway?”

  “Better than the towers that's for sure. Never thought I would be back in one of these things. But they were fun. I did more than I had to.”

  Andrew stood, smiling. “Connor and I did thirteen. Helped us boost past a couple of people.”

  “Oh, Connor did thirteen?” Sarah said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I did fourteen. What a shame. I think the Captain did seventeen or so.”

  Connor rolled his eyes as the flowery scent from her hair hit his nose. Looking at Connor during the stories, he appeared to be a little calmer than his brother. He had a loud laugh, but spoke with a genuine tone even with Rae’s babblings. No boasting or fighting unless it was Andrew who seemed to only have meat for brains.

  “Damn, I only did seven,” Emily said. “My Father wanted me to do at least one a year. I think it was so he could boast to my uncles. I would have only done the two required otherwise.”

  “Ya, I only did the two requirements. It was a pain to leave my village,” Mace said, squirming in embarrassment. “The counsel likely picked me because the more important children of health are on the battlefield. Not for my expertise in these things.”

  Sarah shook her head in disagreement and laughed with the rest of the crew. Her eyes coasted to Ryder’s slumped figure. He could almost see the question forming in her brain. How many did he clear? But she never asked. Although, he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to join the conversation. He had so many stories about towers that he wished to share, but he knew they would only care about one.

  “I did ten,” Rae said, which received a few surprised faces. “I’m only good for the puzzle floors and touching crystals. I tried to study them, but their rules make no sense. Anything and everything could be in them with no rhyme or reason. You only get the full story after touching the crystal. It’s a real roundabout way to teach a lesson. Nothing beats pen and paper.”

  Ryder’s eyes opened abruptly at Rae’s words, but they weren’t the usual tired expression. They were wide open.

  He was trying not to draw any attention, dealing with them as he always had, ignoring them. But Rae’s words reminded him of the one man he could not simply ignore. The man from the memory.

  I just need them to doubt the massacre even if only slightly. Just get them to question the tower. Don’t tell them about the memory or more than they need to know, they wouldn’t believe it, he thought. Give a nice big smile and attack it head-on.

  “Can I ask you something, Emily?” Ryder said, cringing at his own words.

  Emily’s giggles slowly faded into the darkness as she turned slowly to Ryder, who was now standing. The other’s laughter died just as quickly. The crashing waves sounded in the awkward quiet, plugging the silence. Her eyes slowly rose to meet his. The irises blended into the dark background behind him, creating black shadows on his face. Only his quivering smile showed through the darkness, creating a white streak across his shadowy figure. Emily went cold.

  “Um,” Emily said, hesitating. “No.”

  “Why? Is it because you think I killed Mercy? You're her sister, right?”

  Silence.

  Flint’s bowl fell to the ground, rolling away from the fallen tree as he marched toward the boy, grabbing his shirt and lifting till their eyes were level.

  “Don’t talk to the Royal Family! There is no thinking about it. We know you did it.”

  Ryder closed his eyes, hoping to de-escalate the situation. The smell of cheese and meat spewed out of the giant’s mouth along with the verbal lashing. Pelts of spit clung to Ryder’s face as the brute’s veins popped from his neck.

  “Why did you do it? Why bring innocent people into your suffering? You should have just left the Kingdom and died somewhere! Alone!” Flint yelled, nearly crushing Ryder’s shoulders together.

  Sarah clutched her chest, struggling to breathe. The words hung in the air as she watched the boy squirm to free himself, tears forming in her eyes. His eyes had a faint purple mark in them, but only where the fire's flames reflected. Chaos seemed to follow the color changing eyes everywhere they looked. However, this time it was necessary.

  “I didn’t do it, okay!” he screamed. Andrea turned in her bed next to the fire, but she didn’t wake.

  “It was level 2! Nobody should have died!” Flint retorted quickly.

  Ryder ignored Flint’s words and looked past him. “Emily, just hear me out. I will tell you anything you want to know.”

  Silence.

  The coals from the campfire drew breath, glowing as the wind hit them. However, those within its light held their breath. Emily moved the thick red hair out of her eyes while Sarah walked over and touched her shoulder, offering a brief moment of comfort.

  Sarah turned to Ryder and broke the silence. “Alright, let's ask him a few questions,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Put him in the middle of the camp.”

  Flint moved Ryder to the center, and the others surrounded him, keeping their distance. Never close enough to see the purple–like always.

  “Start with your gift,” Sarah said, standing over him. “How does it work? And be precise.”

  Ryder took a few deep breaths, pausing before opening his mouth. He needed to take a few deep breaths to compose his thoughts. Making sure to save his ace for the right moment.

  “I can see into the future, as Sarah has likely told you. I activate my gift, and the next few seconds play in my head like an old memory. Then, I return to the moment of activation, and the memory plays out exactly as I foresaw it. Additionally, I or anyone I inform can adjust accordingly, avoiding any danger,” he said. “Changing the outcome.”

  Sarah scratched her head. “Ok. So anyone can benefit from it,” she said. “How long does it last? What about your Vice? We need to know everything.”

  “Duration-wise. I can see as far ahead as I like. Though I suspect if I go too far, I would lose the gift and my eyesight completely.”

  Sarah took a few steps back. “What the hell?”

  “So much for your restricted demonstration, Sarah. This gift is all-powerful. What could you do against it?” Connor said snarkily.

  “But,” Ryder said, interrupting. “As I said, I can adjust myself while looking into the future. If I change my movements, then the future also changes, and what I saw after the moment I changed becomes useless. That’s why I only use it in bursts. A few seconds at a time.”

  “Also, I can’t predict what I don't see. Hence, why the bag was so absurd.”

  Sarah eyed him with skeptical eyes, but she didn’t bicker.

  “And one more thing. It's not really a gift, more so a byproduct of my gift. It does have a small Vice though.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sarah said.

  “To effectively use my gift, I need good vision. If I can’t activate my gift in time, then it's useless. Therefore, the god of foresight gave me a set of eyes that pick up on the slightest movement, enhancing my anticipation capabilities.”

  Ryder pointed at Flint. “Take this muscle head, for example. If he were to prepare a right punch, I would see the weight transfer to his right foot, then the muscles in his bicep would tense. It took some practice.”

  “What’s the vice then?”

  “I’m colorblind,” Ryder said with a brief chuckle.”The only reason I know that Wolf is red is because that’s their name.”

  “Second question,” Andrew said, pacing back and forth. “Are you an only child? I’ve never heard of anyone else with this gift.”

  “Yes, no one else has received it, ever. I have my guesses as to why.”

  “Which are?” Sarah said.

  Ryder again paused to collect his thoughts, making sure to not say something he would regret. “Its pretty powerful regardless of its drawback. Every time it activates, I basically get one moment to rewrite history. Much good it did down in that prison, though, or in that tower,” his eyes moved from the flames to Andrea’s sleeping ones. “However, I think I received it for a specific purpose.”

  Emily stood up, and the flames from the fire followed. He apparently picked the wrong words this time. “What, like to save the world or some bullshit? To stop the war? To clear this tower? That prison made you go even more insane! You're not special!” The ring of fire was extinguished hours ago, but the temperature within its circle was rising fast.

  The boy was motionless. He let the last sentence float around in his mind and gathered his wits. Not yet, he thought.

  “I’ve never considered myself special,” Ryder said in his soft, calming voice. “Yet, the kids at the academy always thought I was. They would seek me out to beat me, throw dirt in my eyes, and curse me in the halls. Nobody else received those blessings. So the only conclusion is that I must be special, right?”

  The flames quieted. His smile struggled as his eyes met hers. “Mercy thought I was really special. Yet, I never even raised a hand to her. I even shed tears when she died.”

  Ryder frowned.

  “I doubt she would have done the same for me.”

  The words clearly tugged at Emily. Deep down she probably knew he was right. All the goddesses of fire were hot headed. Fault of their Vice, but Royalty adds another level of intensity.

  “No one would cry for you,” she spat.

  This is going nowhere. Maybe I should wait for Andrea, he thought. No. It would only complicate things. Fuck it.

  “There is one person who would,” Ryder said with a sinister grin. He’s wanted to say this since the tent outside the tower. “Your guesses are as good as mine as to why, but he, for some reason, has protected me time and time again. Even visiting me in prison.”

  The group leaned in. Sarah more than the others.

  His words turned more confident when he knew he had them. “He even guaranteed my freedom once I helped your sorry asses clear this.”

  The words lingered deliberately like a town’s gossip waiting for the climatic part of the story. Then, he spoke. Softly as always.

  “King Edmond.”