I had finally gained enough strength to train. A sword had rightfully returned to my hands, the blade swinging fiercely. I had decided to refrain from all magic until absolutely necessary, so I had asked Calli to give me one. 

It was quite a beautiful sword; the one he gave me. The hand had a unique shape, but it didn’t make it any more difficult to use. Somehow, his warmth seemed to have seeped into its craftsmanship, so I asked, “Did you make this?” 

“How did you know?” He laughed brightly, but I didn’t respond. I suppose the question was: how would I not?

His hands left behind a charm on everything they touched. The warmth seemed to seep through, the soft smell of earth, and the passion in every detail. Vukasin was a good man, and he would be a good king, but there were times I wished I could see a person like Calli rule. What would the world become, then?

I never pursued those thoughts, though. He belonged here, in this peaceful garden. It was astonishing that such a gentle soul could ignite such a terrible war, but I would fix his mistakes. If they could even be called such a thing. I pet the furball beside me, who had been my most loyal supporter throughout my training. 

The furball began to whine. “What’s wrong?” I asked, crouching down to inspect it. Its whines continued, the floppy ears pressing back to its head. I looked around, hoping there was a chance someone was nearby. “I’ll be back, okay? Stay here.”

I left with a tender pat on the furball’s head. I had no idea where Calli would be. I’d never explored the place beyond the area my room was in, but I knew the place took up much more space. There were long corridors that would lead to more, making it something of a labyrinth. 

I never considered other people living here, but I had spotted a few. They seemed to be patients, like me. Was this some sort of hospital? I went up to a young girl with a polite nod. “Hello, there. Do you happen to know where Calli is?”

“Who?” she asked.

“The big guy with curly hair,” I said, pointing to my own hair, for some reason. She sat in front of a pond, her elbows resting on her thigh. She was covered in bandages from head to toe, and one of her legs was fully missing. 

“Oh, him,” she hummed without interest. “He’s probably cooking in the kitchen.”

“Where is that?”

“Do you not eat?” she said snarkily. 

“Of course I eat.”

“You must be new, then.” She grabbed the crutches that rested on a rock near her, lifting herself up. “I’ll show you. Food helps me heal, too.”

“No, I’ve been here for a long time…” I began.

“Really? Everyone eats together.” Then the girl eyed me. “Must be because you’re from the north, aren’t you?”

“Oh, probably,” I said awkwardly. “How could you tell?”

“Your accent. I wasn’t listening earlier.”

“Oh.”

She laughed quietly. “Careful walking around. This place is filled with your enemies.”

She didn’t say anything else after that. The place was more grand than I had thought. It had the same amount of room as the palace, except it was all on one floor, making it seem even larger. I admired the architecture throughout, and especially the plants. I never knew a place could look so bright, even after the sun had gone down. 

“Here we are.”

The kitchen was huge. “Wow,” I whistled. There were more ovens than I could count. Steaming food and fresh pastries lay on the counters. The chefs cheerfully cooked the dishes, tasting each other's food with nods of approval. A little past, there was an outdoor dining room. There were magically lit lights shining on the various faces, each of them eating appetizing dishes with joyful faces. 

“Hm. Doesn’t seem like he’s here,” the girl shrugged. “Well, I don’t know then.” 

She wobbled away. I ran a hand through my hair awkwardly, but I had forgotten how long it’d grown, making the movement even more stiff. It was a lot of hair. 

I took a deep breath, glancing around. I wasn’t sure where I was or how to get back, but the girl was long gone, leaving me stranded. I took my best guess, walking down seemingly familiar corridors. 

My heart thumped with relief when I spotted a group of people. I smiled politely as I approached, to which they returned the favor. “Hello,” I greeted.

Should I ask about Calli, or my room? But how would they know where my room is? It was late, so asking about Calli now was rather odd, but…

However, before I made up my mind, the group's expressions stiffened. They exchanged glances before looking back at me. “Hey, you’re from the North, aren’t you?”

My heart dropped to my stomach. I cleared my throat awkwardly. “I am, but…”

What could I say? I didn’t know anything about the war. Neither the truth nor a lie would help my situation. Not when ‘my kind’ had killed their families, I’m sure, and put them in this hospital. I could’ve felt frustrated, or that the treatment was unjust, but the group’s expressions were each so afraid. Even if they wanted to trust me, I could tell their previous experiences wouldn’t allow them to do so.

“You want to kill him,” one of them declared. “You thought we wouldn’t notice?”

His voice shook, but he stood firm. Another laughed beside him. “His intentions couldn’t be more obvious.”

“No…”I started. “I just… you don’t have to tell me where he is. Just tell me where my room is. I don’t know where I am.”

“Your room? Are you trying to pretend you’re staying here? Calli wouldn’t let someone from the North stay here.”

Cold hands wrapped around my wrists as if to prevent me from fighting back. Should I? I’m sure I could escape from them and find my way out of the place, but my heart wavered. It betrayed my reason, as the now familiar guilt had taken root in my heart. The branches wrapped around until my thoughts were clouded. Their actions are a result of my own, they do this because of a war I started.

Why did I think that? Why did I think I started the war? I was locked up, there was nothing I could do there.

I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything wrong.

“I’ve never seen him before, either. Should we ask Calli? Or deal with him ourselves?”

“Why would we take an assassin straight to their target, dumbass?”

“Well, how should we deal with him?” the boy quipped back. 

The smallest one of the group intervened. “What if he’s a spy? We should kill him, shouldn’t we? If the others find this place…”

“He’s right,” the eldest said. “Where’s that knife you always keep? Give it to me. I’ll do it.”

His eyes were sinister as he looked at me. I watched as he held his hand out. The small handle fell into it, and his fingers wrapped around with a steady hold. My heart beat strongly. 

“What the fuck?” The cold hands retreated quickly. “What is this?”

As the cowering hands let go of me, I took the chance to distance myself from the group. My chest stung painfully, like a small cut was slowly being torn open. I looked down, nearly expecting to see blood blossoming on the white cloth. Instead, a faint golden glow was seen emitting beneath my skin. 

I stopped the magic from spreading further. It felt like a venom burning my veins as it flowed through my blood. 

“Don’t let him go! He’ll sell us out!” the small boy shouted.

I felt something cut through my back. My steps fumbled and a burning pain seeped into my nerves. It was only my back, but it was almost as if my whole body burned. What kind of knife did that kid have? I had assumed it was a small hunting knife, but when I turned around, I saw a well-made dagger. A familiar craftsman ship.

A growing dizziness consumed me while my breathing quickened. I coughed as if my lungs were collapsing. An explosion sounded out nearby.

Birds flew from the trees, and the beasts started to whimper. The trembling cries echoed throughout the building. I could hear them from far away, making me wonder momentarily just how large it was. 

Before I could register the nearby screams of agony, the ground before me suddenly erupted. I covered my face from the bright light and the flying debris. My body was thrown back into a wall, pulling the air out of me. 

I panted for breath, my chest heaving heavily. Had I been any closer to the bomb, I would’ve exploded with it. I lifted my body off the ground, using the pillar I had landed on for support. 

The sight before me nearly dropped me back to the ground. The bomb had been further away than I thought, and what I had felt was the effect of it. The scorched ground ranged for a mile, a large circle formed in what used to be walls. Blood intermixed with it all, the dead animals and people blown to bits. Some, like me, had been thrown from the force. Unlike me, their bodies were beyond recognition. 

My voice cracked. I heard more bombs around me, more excruciating cries. “He did this!” a harrowing voice cried. “You did this!”

I turned around to see the small boy. He held a dagger tightly in his hands. The warmth of its appearance had been replaced with blood.

“No,” I sobbed. “No. It wasn’t me.”

I couldn’t close my wide eyes. They were open to the sight before me. The eldest child’s face was nearly split in two from the dagger. I heaved roughly as if my resentment would fall out with my heavy breaths. 

My heart beat strongly and tortuously. I coughed, and the golden light emitting from my skin lit up my hands. Blood dripped slightly from my mouth, and my heart only continued to beat powerfully. 

As small particles of golden light flickered around the boy’s face, the gaping wound morphed itself back together. I coughed violently, trying to relieve the tearing pain spreading in my chest. The blood that had splattered down his face seemed to flow in reverse until the cut had completely closed.

“What did you do?” the small boy turned with a panicked expression. His eyes were bulging with fear, and I watched as tears spilled over at the elders' sudden gasping. “Eire!”

The furball… 

I’d leave with it. I told it to stay there. What if it listened? 

Why did I care about a stupid animal? 

If someone had told me the world ended already, I would’ve believed them. I saw more dead people than live, and the live looked like they would crumble at any moment. Some held bodies with grieving cries, while others stared at the destruction around them. 

I panted for breath desperately, but the air was so dusty and my coughs wouldn’t cease. The rubble had made movement an obstacle, and my dizzy eyes had trouble properly guiding my feet. 

I recognized my room even through the wreckage. I rushed to the wisp of fur I saw peaking through a pile, except my movements paused when it entered my vision. 

Dead.

There was no way it wasn’t dead. I gripped the back of my neck as my thoughts raced. My breathing was uneven. I tried to breathe in more oxygen, but my lungs stuttered, only to breathe out an unsteady breath. I needed air.

I coughed as if choking, and the pile of ruin was splattered with blood. I knew using magic again would have a permanent consequence. I placed a shaking hand on my forehead, trying to press the throbbing headache away. But it was right here. 

My heart pounded, more heavily and firmly than before, and the golden light pulsed along with the rhythm. The debris lifted around the creature, revealing a crushed and bloodied body. My expression succumbed to anguish with a bloodstained cough.

The warm light wrapped around the large body, and I felt my energy slip away rapidly. I couldn’t identify what hurt, or why, as my body pulsed with ripping pains, both externally and internally. The world wavered in front of me due to lightheadedness, and I began to worry that I wouldn’t be able to finish healing the furball. 

I felt a hand on my shivering back. I choked with surprise. The energy that was being sucked out of my body stilled, but the magic did not. Their graceful movements continued in front of me, but I watched the sparkling eyes instead. The light reflected like stars in the dark irises.

I tried to speak, but not a sound came out of my raw throat. I grabbed my neck in fear. The hand on my back strengthened, and I realized the enchanting face was clouded by apprehension. 

The magic dimmed gradually, and I heard a small whimper come from the furball. Before I could turn my attention to it, warm hands grabbed my shoulders. “What did you do…”