After a few minutes of the elder’s screaming, he passes out. I sigh, looking at the sight of his blood pooling in the crevices of the rockface.


    “Please heal him Hui.”


    She looks startled at my request. “But—”


    “I meant what I said. He doesn’t deserve death. He’s just a coward. And— I — ah forget. Just make sure he lives.”


    Gareth glares at me. I give another sigh. “Please make sure he lives Hui,” I say. She nods. I take a seat and hug my knee. I know I went too far. But it felt good. It felt good to tell him off. It felt good to slice his hands.


    And that scares me.


    If I did this to him, what will I do to Kai? Masaru? Daichi?


    Renji?


    The thought of their heads mounted on pikes makes me giddy. It makes me hate myself.


    My mind is a mess. I need distance, time to think. Hui being around doesn’t help me, nor does her lover boy staring a hole through me.


    I stand and start walking back to the tower.


    “Where are you going?” Gareth asks, suspicion lacing every word.


    “Where else?” I say. “I’m packing up and leaving.”


    So I climb back into my abode one last time.


    It is a somber climb. No wind to give chorus, no bleeding colorful horizon, just a gray sky and grayer prospect. I touch the walls, feel the familiar grooves of the antler, bone, and stone.


    I take an antler from a dead eldritch wolf. It is sharp and will act as a fine dagger. I take my packet of herbed soot — I have gotten too accustomed to its taste to go without it.


    Then, it is time. Nothing else need be taken.


    I wonder if this “spirit of the tower” that Hikaru mentioned will follow me. Some part of me hopes it does. The other hopes it abandons me. I must strike out on my own. This is the only way I can… the only way I can move on.


    When I come back down, Hui and Gareth are talking in hushed tones. Hui’s arm on his shoulder, tender and intimate. It is a sight I tear my eyes away from. I remind myself of the hatred I have for this ugly feeling: but envy is an awful disease. I can only drown it with the rage I feel against Hui, though that too is being eclipsed by that mountain of fury I  reserve for the other elders.


    I remember the day they killed my mother so perfectly. It has haunted my nights for many years.


    I will make their deaths slow.


    Stop. This is a path that will destroy you.


    “I don’t care,” I mutter to myself, half-believing the words. Again, I realize how fogged my head is.


    “So,” Hui begins, stepping away from Gareth. She looks at my motley pack of belongings and sighs. “Where to next?”


    I stare at her, dumbfounded. “What do you mean, ‘where to next?’ We are not going anywhere together. I am leaving.”


    “Raiten…” she looks down and tightens her fists, as if about to cry once more. “I wanted to tell you this earlier — I didn’t mean to abandon you, nor leave you for so many years. I simply did not know. And even if I did I had… so many duties, so many tasks to take care. I became a child of war, then an apprentice to a great spirit and thereafter I was needed. Families, children, kings, queens, nations beckoned for me to face the great armies of the Western Dragons—”


    “I do not care for your escapades,” I say. Gareth takes offense to this but Hui holds up a stern hand, holding her beast back. “I sacrificed everything. And now I am nothing. At least let me be that nothing in peace.”


    “Peace? Raiten, what peace? You have no food, no water, no provisions and you are injured. Let me help you, let me make it right—”


    I groan. “Don’t you get it? There is no ‘making it right,’ you have cost me everything—”


    “At least hear me out fully would you!” she yells now, taking me back a step. “You—- you’re not listening to me. You’re… you’re so … so!” Tears leak through her eyes now. Her chest is heaving.


    “Angry?” I finish for her.


    “Yes! And I understand, I truly do. But Raiten, we— we can start again. Try again. It does not have to be like this.”


    My eyes can’t help but glance at Gareth. He is silent now, hanging his head. As if mourning something. “I agree. It does not have to be like this. And it won’t—-once I leave.”


    “Don’t say that.”


    She frustrates me now. “Well what are you going to do about it Hui? Will you stop me? Use your dragons to tie me up and drag me to whatever your next adventure may be? Oh I know, maybe we can all sit around a campfire and tell stories about what happened to us in the past fifteen years. Yours will be some grand legend talking about battle after battle, love and friendship, glory and defeat, and ultimately, victory and fame. Mine will be one word: suffering. Then we can all laugh it off and forgive each other. Is that what you want?”


    She stares at me like I’m a monster. I feel like one now, huffing and puffing after my tirade. I step back.


    “I want to be alone. Like I’ve always been. It is easier this way.”


    I turn to leave with that, stomping away.


    “You’re wrong,” she says in a low voice.


    I keep walking, ignoring her.


    “It didn’t end in victory Raiten. Though we were close.”


    I stop. “What do you mean by that? The Western Dragons have been quelled.” A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    “Yes. The Dragon Prince was slain by my hand with the help Gareth and the rest of our party. But… the Dragon King was slain by a giant with the Great Basilisk slung around his neck.”


    What?


    “What? What does that even mean?” I ask. She spouts those titles as if she expects me to know them. I turn to face her. She realizes her mistake.


    “Right. You don’t know, do you? The Great Basilisk has been terrorizing the Southern Fimbul Lands for a while now, until it was subdued by a giant seven years ago. Not much was known about this… ‘giant’ other than that he was some myth of the Fimbul People. Then, five months ago, when I killed the Dragon Prince and my party faced the Dragon King Zod, the giant killed three of my party before ripping Zod’s head off and taking it as a trophy. The remaining Western Dragons recognized him as king, few that there were. They followed him back to Fimbul.”


    “What does it matter?” I ask. “The dragons are gone from our lands. You should be happy. You won. Became a hero. Stole the glory of a kill that wasn’t yours.”


    “Bastard —” Gareth snarled.


    “That’s right, I am bastard,” I tell Gareth. “Born a bastard, treated like a bastard, enslaved as a bastard. What does a bastard care for this giant and his basilisk pet?”


    “Raiten,” Hui begins, taking one deep breath. “Join me. You are a powerful warrior. The Boar Ranges are on the way to Fimbul. We can get your vengeance and, if you wish, you can help me defeat the giant who calls himself Basilbane. Don’t do it for me. Do it for others. I am to meet with my party in two days. We can add you to our ranks.”


    I scoff. “You forget. Without the amulets, I am powerless.”


    Gareth raises an eyebrow at this. He does not understand. Hui does. Without the angel dust imbued amulets, curated by the elders of my clan, I would merely be a stubborn immortal, much like in my fight against the eldritch wolves.


    Hui pauses, then stuffs her hand into her robe. She produces a clinking bag. It sounds like money at first, yet when she tosses it to me and I let it drop, out spills seven amulets of crystalized angel dust.


    “How —”


    “Hikaru’s supply,” she explains. “I figured you might need it. He told me that the other elders have more.”


    I am shocked that she gave this to me. I could kill her right now if I wished, and she knows that. But would I actually be able to? She would let me, surely. Gareth wouldn’t. And… in the end, I probably wouldn’t go through with. Again. Because I’m a coward.


    “Raiten. What say you?”


    I think about it, closing my eyes.


    Maybe if it was ten years ago, I would’ve said yes. But I’ve given up on trying to be a hero. I just want to be. I want to live and experience all that I’ve missed. This task will only enslave me once more, this time to duty. And I won’t have that.


    Let it be Hui’s problem.


    “No,” I say. I pick up the bag of amulets and toss it to her.


    She tosses it back. “Keep it. You might need them.”


    I expect her to cry. But it seems I’ve dried her tears with my pettiness. She simply stares somberly at me.


    I consider giving her a nod, yet even that I cannot afford. I turn to leave.


    “Raiten! If you change your mind, meet us at the entrance to Boar’s Pass in a month''s time!” she calls.


    I do not turn back.


    …


    I stand at the border between my old dominion and the world beyond, marked with a white scratch in the rockface. From here the hillocks slope into rocky terrain, till the forest springs up — black trees and red cherry leaves. A sea of red leaves and then the valley beyond— a road that spills into open fields, meadows past what the eye can see. Till the winter chill of the South slithers down your spine, one could pass through the paradise of the Old Road.


    I always used to gaze at those faraway meadows and wonder: what would it be like, running through them? Passing my hands along the tall grass?


    Breathing in the air of Summer.


    Taking a deep breathe, I take a step past the white mark.


    The three times I tried to do so during my enslavement, I was met with such immense pain that I could not move a single muscle — except to fling myself back into the barren dominion.


    Now, there is nothing.


    Just the silence of loneliness.


    I force myself to smile. Then, laugh.


    I expect myself to cry once more. It doesn’t come. So, I walk onwards, towards my new life and destiny.


    …


    The amulets jingle in my sack as I enter the red cherry forest — its name I do not know. Even inside the canopy of leaves, it is beautiful. They swirl in the wind, breaking and fluttering like butterflies. There is a childish joy that enters my heart. I resist the urge to run around and chase the leaves, but when I come to the sobering realization that no one is around me, I go wild.


    I chase the wind, the sky, the air. I feel the touch of bark. I spot some deer and race them through the woods, going off road. I get lost. That makes me so happy. I used to know every single pebble of my old dominion. For once, I am deep in the unknown.


    I find my way back to the road after some time. The path darkens. I trek off and gather wood for a fire. My stomach rumbles and I realize, for once, I can scavenge for more than rock nuts and soot cake.


    The good thing about the immortality is that I don’t need much food. Just enough for my body to barely remain upright.


    The hunger still remains though. It always has.


    I just got used to it.


    Now, for the first time in seven years, I eat my fill. I stuff myself on tree nuts and berries. I do not know if they are poisonous, nor do I care. I am so happy, I could die right now, laying on a log with a slow fire crackling at my feat.


    I don’t dare to think about the elders or Hui Long or that giant she called Basilbane.


    Instead, I fall asleep in peace.


    …


    I wake up to the sound of thundering hooves. Rubbing my eyes, I try standing and stretching, but I stumble slightly. Chuckling, I realize it is the first time I have slept so deeply in a while. I think it is because of the full stomach, more than anything else.


    I take to the road and see a horse-drawn cart, upon with a stack of hay and barley sits. They come from the East — perhaps from the Gorges of Adostra (my geography is understandably off).


    I stand in the middle of the road and observe them as they near. An older man sits in the front, holding the reigns to the carriage. He is white-skinned and thankfully, does not look of clan-make. Perhaps some villager or trader from the valley. Next to him sits a young girl, perhaps just barely a teenager. She wears an apron and has ruddy looking hair.


    When they spot me, the horses halt and the man gives me a strange look. With a sudden realization, I step out of their way and chuckle awkwardly.


    “Sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I?”


    “Yah sure are,” he speaks, in the accent of a village farmer. Harder tones and blunt words. I do not mind. I much prefer this to prosy lies.


    Before the man is able to lift his reins and set the horses to moving again, the girl next to him whispers something softly in his ear. The man looks at me, looks at her, sighs, and nods his head towards me.


    “You need a ride?” Before I answer he cuts me off “It’ll cost you.”


    “Grandfather!” the girl chides.


    “What? I ain’t giving out rides for free. I’m not some royal dog.”


    “Where are you heading?” I ask him.


    He spits some phlegm, not out of spite or anything, but I suspect it is a habit. “South to Takemeadow Village.”


    I have no idea where that is, but South is fine.


    “I have no money,” I tell him honestly.


    “That’s too bad. Then —”


    “We could have him work it off for a day!” the girl exclaims. The man grunts, taking another look at me.


    “You look half-starved. Can you carry some hay?” he asks.


    I shrug. “Well enough.”


    He squints his eyes at me, as if checking for something. Then, he just sighs. “Hop in the back then. Try not to make a mess.”


    I bow slightly and haul myself into the cart.


    Huh. I actually just hitched a ride. It''s like those story books I used to read. I chuckle to myself again.


    “Why are you laughing?” the girl asks innocently.


    I look at her. She’s younger than I thought. “Because I’m a fool.”


    “What’s that mean?”


    The old man snaps the reins and the cart stumbles off down the road. I give the girl a wry smile. “It means I’m free.”