Gods, do I love sleeping on dry ground, having a rock poking my ass, surrounded by weird-looking madmen and women, and using the shadow of a far-too-dangerous vampire as a cushion.

  And, of course, what I love most is the ignorant, sassy, annoyingly cute Schizophrenia echoing in my head, telling me to wake up.

  Oh, and there it is! See that sky? The broken one? The one that looks like the time some brat in the orphanage shattered a vase and blamed it on you because you looked weirder than all the other abandoned bastards? No? Just me?

  Still, can’t deny the fractured reality above is pretty nice to look at in the early hours of the morning. Unique. Show this to a Victorian child returning from a sixteen-hour mining shift, and he’d probably have an epileptic fit, convinced the Rapture had arrived.

  But no… no Rapture here. No salvation from the bullshit I was in.

  Ah, and I almost forgot to mention the smell of sulfur. Gods, do I love having my nostrils bleed.

  Why, you ask? Well, haha, blame that werewolf-looking guy over there, standing above Enna’s sleeping body like it’s their wedding night.

  …

  Now that I think about it, I should wake up, right? Tempting to just let life happen and allow the circle of life to roll on undisturbed. But I’m a better guy than I pretend to be, so…

  “I, Elio Welchia, Ruler of Calcan Castle, Seed of the Reigncraft, Reject your form. Law of Separation.”

  A lot of blood sprayed out of the guy's openings as his lifeless body collapsed onto Enna, making her jolt awake and scream some spell that turned the already-dead werewolf into a cozy campfire.

  With the fire going and water needing to be boiled, I got up, set the pot I’d prepared last night over the flames, and ignored the confused, half-awake stares around me.

  “What?” I asked, turning toward them.

  Two days into our journey since we left the town of Embel, we were passing near a canyon of sorts when Stevin stopped suddenly.

  Ignoring the confused questions of everyone around him, Stevin grinned as if remembering something important before he turned and took a corner, rushing down a valley deeper into the canyon.

  So, with not much choice, the rest of us followed suit as we descended into the canyon where Stevin awaited, a glorious, prideful smirk on his face.

  “Follow me,” he said, “There is a spot you will all love. Especially you, Enna, you stink of death.”

  “Not my fault, I had a damn Lycan fall on me, now am I, you noble, basic-looking bitch,” Enna hissed, annoyed.

  Truth be told, she stank. Like really fucking bad.

  But after a while, you get used to it. Still, the promise of an improvement in our nasal capacities made even Enna, the victim of all this, agree to follow Stevin deeper into the rocky canyon until he stopped at the mouth of a small cave.

  Pointing toward it, he crouched down and went through the hole, prompting everyone to see where the fucker was taking us. But once we passed through the initial hole, we found ourselves in a giant opening, surprisingly well-lit for some reason.

  “How can we see in this place?” I asked, unable to figure it out.

  “The stone,” Stevin grinned, slapping one of the walls gently, sending a wave of blue light through the stone as if it were sound waves.

  “Trectul Stones,” Enna muttered, looking around the opening. “So many?”

  “A vein full of it,” Stevin nodded, before he signaled us to move along. “The constant sound in this place illuminates the place to some extent because of the stones that the lower levels of the canyon are made out of. My eldest sister had found and owns this place. A small retreat she liked to take me to when I was a child, as well as the spot I hid in for a few days before going to the elven village when I escaped.”

  “And what’s that constant sound you mentioned?” Arther asked, despite the obvious sound echoing through the separate tunnel Stevin was taking us.

  “Water,” I muttered, seeing what lay ahead.

  An underground lake stood in front of us, naturally formed in the opening in the middle of an underground river that moved through the depths of the canyon, perhaps even deeper underground.

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  The water was of a gorgeous, crystalline light blue, reflecting the perfectly visible rock below. From the looks of it, not one place near the edge of the lake we were in was deeper than five to six feet. Lovely spot indeed.

  “Well,” Enna cleared her throat, turning toward the rest of us, “Ladies first, now fuck off.”

  And just like that, despite my itch to see more of this interesting place, we left the cave entirely, returning with Stevin and Arther back into the sun-struck canyon. Into the hateful heat of this bastard sun.

  “Well,” I sighed, sitting down on a large boulder. “This ought to be a good place to rest for the day, no? It’s evening soon either way, and at least we don’t have to worry about anything else creeping in the middle of the night.”

  “That one is on me, haha,” Stevin chuckled awkwardly. “I fell asleep mid-watch, didn’t hear a single thing.”

  “Oh, so that’s why Enna punched you in the face the moment she managed to clean the blood off of her,” I clapped, remembering the previous day’s events. “You deserved that one.”

  Arther started laughing. “Their relationship is clearly unique.”

  “Don’t tell me about unique relationships, lion man,” Stevin grinned, voice sarcastic and taunting. “You think we are blind to how much ‘care’ you show Melsa and Arthur?”

  “W-What?” Arther stuttered, cheeks blushing, letting the sword he held in his hand rest on top of a rock. “Take that back.”

  “Oh my,” I muttered, realizing what Stevin was talking about. “You love her.”

  Arther tried to defend himself against the accusations but had only managed to stutter some more, making Stevin start bawling his eyes out as he imitated him for a few minutes, making Arther, despite his aggressive look, turn from a lion into a wet cat as he slumped on a nearby boulder.

  “Of course I do,” he sighed, “I loved her for years now. But…”

  I raised my hand, stopping him mid-sentence as Ephe’s voice and yells from above cut through Arther’s explanation.

  [Danger.]

  [Several Lifeforms Are Approaching from Above.]

  [Intent: Kill.]

  [Intent: Escape.]

  [Elio is not Their Target.]

  At Ephe’s words, and not wanting to get us involved in other people’s troubles, especially when we were not at full strength, I signaled to the two to approach the side of the canyon, out of sight of whoever and whatever was happening above, on the top of the canyon we had just barely ten minutes ago.

  “No, please,” cried the voice of a man from above, “I’ll do anything, please!”

  “Anything, you say?” asked another man, “Is that the truth?”

  “Yes! Yes! I swear! Anything you ask of me, I will do it,” the first man replied, hope in his voice.

  “Then I have just the task for you,” the second man laughed.“Learn how to fly.”

  Terrified scream echoed through the air for a second before, with a wet thud, all was reduced to nothingness, making me grimace at the gross sound the impact made.

  “Seems he failed… oh well,” said that second man before several other male voices resounded further and further, laughing as they were leaving the poor man to die.

  With a sharpened breath and adrenaline coursing through the entirety of my body, I turned to look at the two, only to see Stevin frozen on the spot, eyes hollow.

  “Stevin?” I asked, frowning.

  “That voice from above…” he muttered, getting more and more pale. “...I think it was my uncle.”

  I raised my eyebrows at the revelation, “Are you sure?”

  “I, uh,” Stevin began, confused and panicked.

  But just as I was about to ask more about it, a weakened cry reached my ears.

  “..lp. Help me.”

  The man was still alive.

  Quickly, I turned and told Arther to look after Stevin before I left them, quietly moving toward the source of the sound, just in case the people above were still there.

  It was a gruesome sight to see a man splattered on the sharp rocks and still breathing. The Gods were cruel to let such a poor soul suffer.

  Once I saw him, I stopped caring if the people above were still there, moving directly toward the poor man, meeting his teary eyes.

  “Help me,” he muttered weakly.

  ‘Is there a way I can, Ephe?’ I asked inside my head.

  [No.]

  “I’m sorry, my friend,” I replied, smiling sadly as I met his eyes with as kind a look as I could muster, “I cannot help you in your situation. Unfortunately, you will die.”

  A tear escaped one of his eyes, flowing down into the pool of blood underneath. He knew he would die. He knew his time here was up.

  “Do not leave me here,” he begged, his voice strong, desperate.

  I shook my head at him, “I am not. I will stay here for as long as you need me to. Tell me, my friend, what is your name?”

  “Ch-Christof,” he muttered.

  “Wonderful name, Cristof,” I nodded, opening my lips to speak further, but said nothing, seeing how he gathered his own strength to speak.

  “Who… are you?” he asked, his weak voice getting weaker by the second, “God… of Death?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I smiled genuinely, “I will just be here to send you on your way.”

  He gasped, his body struggling to maintain itself alive much longer. It was a miracle that he survived that giant drop and still managed to draw breath.

  But the question he asked me almost shattered my heart.

  “Was I… a good person?” he asked, seeing me, perhaps, as if I were his ferryman.

  So if the Gods were cruel enough to let him live through all this, at least let me be the merciful one.

  “You were, my friend.” I nodded, still looking into the man’s green eyes, up until the light vanished from his soul, every ounce of resistance in his body faltering at once as he passed on.

  Quietly, refusing to look at the disaster the man’s lower body was in, I leaned forward, closing his eyes.

  “Rest well, Christof,” I muttered as I got up. “And tell my wife I said ‘Hi.’”

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