Late into the night, I still found myself restless. I had closed all the curtains, dimmed the lights, and hid myself under the covers. I had tried pretty much every traditional method for falling asleep, but nothing really changed. I groaned softly as my body rolled over, facing away from the window from where the crimson moonlight filtered in through.

  I had stripped myself of my daily attire, opting for the soft pajamas supplied for me. They were dark red in color with black lining along the placket and collar. Their almost silky texture made the garments appear like water in the dim moonlight, every movement making the fabric crash and move like waves.

  “Can’t you like… put me to sleep or something?...” I complained, running my hands through my hair.

  The Umbridge manifested in the corner, remaining silent. The figure observed me for a moment before finally speaking.

  “Kael’s back from his errands, perhaps he can give you something."

  At that moment, my stomach grumbled. “Heh, imagine its milk and cookies laced with some sleep-inducing drug.”

  “That sounds like something he’d do.”

  The door to my room suddenly opened, a thin stripe of light expanding into the room, making me wince and cover my eyes. Kael stood in the doorway, clad in a soft crimson robe. I could tell he was wearing nothing beneath the robe, his contours and muscles gaining tangibility and semblance in his silhouette.

  Kael stepped into the room, waving his hands to make the door close behind him. “Unfortunately, I have no depressing food.”

  He approached the end of my bed, picking up the wooden case and showing it to me. “But you have the depressants, right?"

  “I wanted to ask why you gave us drugs to begin with. Cosette, that alchemist, told me they’re for ‘self-preservation’.”

  Hearing this, Kael clicked his tongue and smiled in approval. “The chap’s correct. One’s self is what makes them important, preserving that sense of self is even more important.”

  He opened the hinged lid of the wooden box, tossing me the vial of blueish powder.

  “You can mix that in with water; it works like a charm.”

  “T-thanks…” I set the vial on the bedside table, sinking into the sheets. “Though, something tells me you’re not here to give me a sleeping prescription."

  The elven mad hummed in acknowledgement. “You’re right, I’m not.”

  Kael dove into his bag, taking out a small book made of leather. It didn’t resemble his journal; it had an entirely different feel to it. He opened the book, flipping to a specific page. A pair of circular golden glasses manifested on the bridge of his nose as he began to read slowly.

  “In a castle beyond the plains of old—”

  “What are you doing?” I scoffed, resting an arm behind my head. “Reading me a bedtime story or something?”

  “You didn’t let me finish… but if you insist on less elementary literature…” Kael’s tongue dove out in concentration as he flipped through the pages of the book, landing on a specific tale.

  “Every tale in this book means something. These are what my mother called ‘Resontant Tales’—fables, myths, and legends from a variety of cultures that tell a story, while also saying something about its reader.”

  “What does that mean?” I arched an eyebrow.

  Kael chuckled under his breath. “Aren’t you an impatient fellow? When we first crossed paths, you looked like you’d stick your pinkie out whilst mingling a virgin just to be polite.”

  “W-why the hell would you use that as an example?” My cheeks noticeably flushed, the thought of such a thing prompting unwanted thoughts into my mind.

  “Hmm… from what I’ve seen, all boys like you crave a woman’s affection. Isn’t that right, Silas?”

  Upon taking in my silence, Kael huffed. “Let us begin then.”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, reading in a prophetic tone. “The Boy Who Was Stoned, author… unknown.” Kael paused before announcing the author, as if highlighting the ambiguity of the text’s origin.

  “And no, he didn’t get intoxicated, he was stoned to death by his village.”

  After clarifying that, Kael cleared his throat and began to read. “It is said that those who seek trouble always receive it, whether through another troublemaker, a scolding or punishment, or being forgotten by the world. I’ve seen a group of children who loved to cause chaos and do harm to others just because they wanted to.

  “Like the virgin Rebeca, whom I swore made a toad explode on the river bed by stepping on its cranium. When the village found out, she was only confined to her room for three hours at most, with her dinner being slid under her door. The next one, a short boy with freckles whom I remember to be Simon, was found guilty of stealing his fathers tools to mingle with his friends. Whilst the original act was juvenile, gouging out your friends left eye over a simple debate wasn’t. For this, he was hung from his feet above the belltower for three merciless hours.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Kael continued reading, a smile gradually forming on his face. “The final lad, the tallest boy in the village, the one everyone knew for his pettiness, was named Edgar. Everyone hated him, for he had done the worst thing of all…”

  I felt my heart tighten, fingers habitually coiling around the blankets beneath me.

  Kael glanced at me for a moment. “Edgar had stolen a loaf from the soup kitchen to feed his little sister.”

  “W-what?” I was at a loss for words, mouth agape. I ran back on the crimes of the other children in the story, noticing a palpable contradiction.

  Noticing my current state, Kael chuckled as he continued reading. “When the village questioned him, Edgar’s lips remained sealed; he said a witch cast a spell on his mouth to never utter the truth.

  “If you cared to pay attention, you would have noticed certain conditions and actions that led to immediate outcomes. The girl who crushed the frog's head was at the scene alone, so she confessed immediately. The boy who had gouged his friend's eye out also confessed when asked, leading to his punishment. But Edgar here, he had lied about the outcome of the situation; he had told a lie that a witch had sealed him with a curse.”

  Kael’s lips pursed as he read the few final sentences of the short story. “When the village finally found the truth, Edgar was immediately apprehended, tied to a wooden pole, and stoned to death by the village.

  “It is to be told to all that truth is always the best answer. Sometimes, telling the painful truth is better than concealing your ideas and thoughts behind lies.”

  After Kael closed the book, setting it aside, he glanced in my direction and frowned. “You lie to yourself, you conceal truths behind delusion. You try to live in the possibility that the old can return and embrace you. You’re a boy looking at the world like an illusion. This purpose you’ve given yourself is not salvation, but condemnation.”

  He stepped forward, approaching me. Kael leaned in close, his lips inches from my forehead. “The damage has been done; the friends you strive to find you aren't coming. You’re alone… you need me.”

  Kael abruptly grabbed my chin, cupping it harshly and yanking my head up. His crimson eyes locked onto mine flickering with restrained malice.

  “I want to help you advance. You strive to discover the true self you’ve been wanting to know for a long time. Let me, I’m the only hope in this cold ocean of your existence.”

  Unexpectedly, Kael leaned in even closer, his ice-cold breath making every hair on my ear stick up and stiffen. “Your father treated you as disposable garbage, your mother didn’t attempt to stop it. Shinso and Ayumi, they didn’t come looking for you. You hurt Catherine and Carter; they look at you like an animal

  “That boyfriend of yours isn’t coming to save you, he doesn’t care enough. He’s framed himself as the villain of his story, so he watched you get shot and not move a muscle. In fact… he was the closest one to your body when it hit the ice… he was in the forest just by the lake, and he didn’t bother to help you.”

  My eyes widened upon hearing that. The burning sigil on my forehead erupted with radiant crimson power, pulsating and ebbing with unforeseen energies. My vision turned blood-red, hands trembling beneath the sheets. I could immediately feel the Chaos Instinct ability activating, wanting to lash out and attack the first person it could locate.

  Due to Kael’s current state—being completely naked aside from his bathrobe—presented the best opportunity. Suddenly, Kael clenched his fists, making the current ability shut off. He brushed himself off, stepping back and scoffing as if unimpressed by my display.

  “Save the malice for later. Chaos restrained and honed is the best type of chaos.”

  He walked to the door at the other end of the room, unlocking it and stepping into the hallway. Before he left, he looked back at me one more time, smirking.

  “I love what I’m seeing; we’re training first thing tomorrow… of course, after a hearty breakfast.”

  I nodded slowly, falling back into the sheets. I heard the door shut behind me, sealing the room once again in darkness. At the same time, the Umbridge manifested in the far corner of the room, gazing at me with their wormhole-like eyes.

  They didn’t say anything for a few moments, but the only things came out illusory and ethereal in tone. “You should take those depressants Kael gave you; they’ll help you fall asleep.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” I slowly reached out, grabbing the vial of blue powder on the other end of my bed.

  I stood up, pants pooling at my ankles as I made my way to the bathroom, filling up a cup with warm water from the faucet and slipping a pinch of the dark-blue powder inside. As I stirred it, the water seemed to shimmer and glow under the dim lighting of the bathroom. My gaze remained steady on the cup for a moment before finally bringing it to my lips.

  My eyes clamped shut as I swallowed the first gulp. It tasted like normal water; the powder had no effect on it at all. After finishing the glass, my body stumbled back, almost finding its way to the hardwood floor of the room. I could immediately tell the drugs’ effects were powerful, enhancing the sleepiness in my body to such an extent so quickly.

  To prevent myself from succumbing to a concussion, I hurried myself over to my bed, slipping under the covers and planting my face into the soft pillows. Soon enough, I was already asleep.

  …

  My vision slowly filtered in and out, blurry images and voices slowly surfacing. When I finally adjusted to my surroundings, my heart immediately leapt out of my chest as my body shot up. Around me, the nauseating smell of trash and gunk filtered through my nose, making it clench and wrinkle like a rotten piece of fruit.

  My clothing was old and tattered, a worn and white tanktop with stains on it, and a pair of jeans that were too loose on my body, slipping past my midsection and showing a sliver of my underwear. My head was pounding violently. At this moment, a screeching sound permeated the air as the dumpster lid was slid off.

  A young-looking woman clad in casual attire stepped back, gasping softly as he hands dove to her mouth. She looked in a daze at the man next to her, eyes wide.

  “Look at it… he looks horrible.”

  Her husband came into view, a burly-looking man with short black hair and a sharp jawline. It was my father! He leaned down into the dumpster, prodding me on the nose with a gentle tap. I immediately knew it wasn’t for affection, but for mocking me.

  “What’s this walking abortion doing in a dumpster like this?”

  He suddenly fell silent for a moment, tapping his chin playfully as he smirked. “I feel kinda bad, maybe we should take em’ in for a while.”

  “B-but my couch, it cost me months of savings! Why would I let that ruffian of a boy sit on it?”

  “We can give 'em’ a quick bath, that’s all it takes to get him looking new. He also looks like shit; I bet he hasn't eaten anything in a while. Maybe I’ll make him a bowl of soup and send him off to bed. We have a guest room, do we not?”

  The woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You know that’s for when my grandparents come over, not for homeless rats like that. What if he has fleas or is infected with some strange virus?”

  “Get your titties out of a twist,” my father chortled as he knelt down into the dumpster, scooping me up without effort. He hoisted me over his shoulder without any effort as he began to walk down the street.

  “He’s our dumpster-boy for the meantime, we gotta’ act like we’re parents.”