Edited by Iseul

Julian’s dreams were wild and restless. The thunderous drum of hooves beat against mud within the downpour.

A childhood acquaintance once told him that the difference between a nightmare and reality is the ability to feel pain. And yet in Julian’s nightmare pain was blistering; bone-deep.

The dogs approached, their barking incessant and their masters howling alongside them. The hill ahead was an impossible opponent.

His life was forfeit.

But when he craned his neck to see the dark storm clouds, a single red star twinkled as it fell from the heavens.

It hurt to breathe, the downpour heavy enough to drown. Yet he opened his mouth like a man, parched.

The hunters came upon him, but he refused to be their prey. Final strength drawn and his body was aflame. Lightning roared to his command, one last time.

One last time—

...

With a tired groan, Julian woke up in great discomfort.

The rolling thunder transformed into the sounds of his complaining stomach. But hunger was something that he could endure. That wasn’t the biggest problem. The biggest problem was…

The world before him was still a messy blur. Julian so missed the privilege of being about to make out proper shapes.

“Oh great inquisitor!” his strained voice croaked, still hoarse from sleep. “Where art thou, great hero? Fuck! Come help me at once!”

The light in his home was a lot dimmer and told him that noon had come and gone. Goosebumps coated his entire body as he trembled. Julian might be old but he was not old enough to be wetting his bed, dammit!

He squinted and looked around his sad little shack but couldn't even tell what was what. Not even his memory was of any use! After all, Julian had slaved so hard to move things around in order to make room for the damned cot. And what for!? The most ungrateful patient he ever had the joy of caring for! Now his living space was but a shadow of what it used to be. Julian might even shed a tear at the thought.

But the more he looked the more he noticed that there wasn’t any movement at all, not even the blurry swish of Dog’s serpentine tail. Julian was left alone to wail in his agony.

After the most agonizing minutes of his life ticked past, the door finally creaked open. A tall figure crept inside and who else would it be other than that insufferable inquisitor? The young man stepped inside, completely unhurried. With a disgruntled huff, he complained, "What's all this screaming and moaning? It sounds indecent."

"Indecent!" Julian howled in annoyance, "Let me tell you about indecency! Tying up a poor old man and robbing him of his basic rights. It does truly make one wonder if the Divine Light really taught you morality or not!”

..." Leonel did not answer but Julian could feel the shadow towering over him. He whimpered as another wave of pressure traveled through his spine all the way down to his bladder. The inquisitor ignored his babbling and asked, "What is wrong with you?"

Julian could cry, right there and then. "What is wrong? Can't you see? Perhaps you are blind! I need to relieve myself okay? Untie me!"

All he received in response was a nonchalant scoff. "Oh, well that's no big deal."

Julian was struck with sudden mortification. He did not believe this man would be so evil to leave him tied and left to suffer. More importantly, if Julian did indeed relieve himself, what of his things!? If his belongings got soiled, Julian would have to throw them out! Julian had no wish to throw anything out! "You damned sadist. So you enjoy watching a poor old man writhe in his suffering, don't you? If you keep standing there doing nothing I'm going to curse and haunt you when I die."

"Only mages can become ghosts," Leonel pointed out, "Are you admitting to being a mage?"

"...I was exaggerating of course! Inquisitors can't even be haunted, now can you?"

Leonel chuckled.

The fucker chuckled!

"Y-you…!" Red had thoroughly dyed Julian’s visage and even colored the tips of his ear and collarbone. "Just you wait. One day the roles will be reversed."

"Sure," Leonel's voice was deep and monotone, yet why did Julian have a feeling the brat of an inquisitor was having fun? "Stop wiggling. You look stupid, old man."

"Brat," Julian spat. But he stilled when he felt Leonel turn him onto his stomach and pressed down on his lower back. A shocked whimper left him, his entire body feeling numb with the desperate need for release. He held back, chewing his bottom lip to bits as he did.

The edge of a knife grazed his wrist and then finally his arms were free!

Leonel repeated the action around other parts of his body. Julian held back a sharp yelp when the man clamped down on his right thigh. Soon, all the rope work had come undone. But Julian’s body was still trembling and numb.

Where did he put the damned chamber pot again?

Julian hissed when he tried to sit up but his sore limbs protested against the action. "Don't just stand there watching! Where is my damned pot? Fuck, I need to pee." More curses tumbled out of his mouth. Subconsciously, a hand grasped the closest thing to him, which happened to be Leonel's sleeve.

"How am I supposed to know? Never mind. You're going to wet yourself at this rate, old man. Just hold it in for two minutes longer, would you?"

"I'm holding it, dammit!" Julian was about to ramble on another string of complaints before suddenly he felt something slide under his legs and behind his back.

An embarrassing squeaking sound escaped him when the world suddenly moved and shifted. The embarrassment was quick to turn to pain as his muscles that had gone numb for too long were suddenly jostled.

He grasped onto the fabric of Leonel's shirt, burrowing his face into a wide chest.

The world swayed in rhythmic steps and his bladder was on the verge of bursting, clouding rational thought.

It took a moment for Julian to realize with striking horror that he was being carried. Mortification settled in. He wanted to groan and cry in annoyance.

With a blast of fresh air, he realized that he was being carried outside. Finally, Leonel set him down and Julian wasted no time whipping out his dick and relieving himself, uncaring if the younger got a good look at his privates or not.

Unbeknown to him, Leonel was staring quite intently. The inquisitor had no interest in a man's parts, much less when he was taking a piss, however, his eyes were trained on the tips of scarred tissue that peaked out from beneath Julian's lowered trousers, curling up from the right thigh, all the way up to his hip.

"Ahhhh, freedom," Julian sighed with satisfaction. Giving himself a good shake, he pulled up his trousers once more and secured them in place with his belt. "Now I just need some food."

"Oh," Leonel suddenly spoke up. "About that. I ate all of your dried meat."

“…” For a moment, Julian thought he heard wrong. He only blinked dumbly, unable to make out Leonel’s expression with his poor vision, no matter how much he squinted.

"And I used all the vegetables in the garden to cook some stir-fry as well. It's an Eastern dish, you seemed to have the proper spices sitting around. It was quite good."

No, he definitely heard that wrong. "All? You used ALL the vegetables?"

"Only the ripe ones." Leonel was scratching his chin in thought, his tone casual, slightly monotone. "Right. I also saw that you had a basket of apricots sitting around in the house. I ate those too. Guess I was more hungry than I expected."

"What!?" Julian screeched, his voice crescendoing with livid disbelief. To think that this fucker would take advantage of Julian’s hospitality and ransack his home as would a thief! If Julian wasn’t a blind cripple, he’d have reached out to give the man a good smack and a good shake. He snarled, like a cat whose fur had been petted the wrong way. “You damned better be pulling my leg, you insufferable little shit.”

Except this 'little shit' wasn't little Lina or little Freddie. This little shit that Julian was busy huffing and spitting at was at least half a head taller than him and built like a fortress. Leonel could probably rip the doctor apart with his bare hands if he wished.

Julian shuddered at the thought.

But that did not mean that he’d let the overgrown brat get away with thievery!

"So how are you going to pay me back for all the trouble that you caused?" Julian hissed.

"Aren't you the one who brought this trouble upon yourself? Since you’ve gone through all the trouble to save me, would it not be sad if I had dropped dead from starvation?” Leonel’s tone was infuriatingly deadpan, without much emotion. It only made his words even more egregious.

Julian was in serious disbelief. "You're saying that it's my fault for saving your life.”

"Yes, precisely."

That was when Julian threw up his arms in defeat. This man was no inquisitor. He was just a common hooligan!

Julian should have just left him for dead!