Two young men were lying on some hill, an ocean of stars above them. One man pointed toward the sky, a giddy look on his face while he said something to the other man. But the other man sat up, something disturbing his sense of peace. Looking down the hill, he saw a group of robed figures, emerging from the snow-covered forest. Both of the men stood up, the beautiful stars a sharp contrast to the horde of people coming their way.

Vance opened his eyes, the dreams of his past dissipating like fleeting fog. He looked at the half-filled cup nearby, a cube of ice dissolving in a light caramel liquor. Surveying the room, he looked at the paintings on the wall, a lone peak surrounded by an ocean of fog, pink flowers in precious porcelain, and shooting stars descending upon a river burnished in violet and blue.

Placing both his hands on the counter, he forced his body to stand, the hangover headache feeling like someone was hammering nails into his head.

Esther took a seat at the bar, sitting right next to him, clothed in a red, sleeveless shirt and a flowing black skirt. “You don’t have to suffer so much, old friend. I can always take your pain away.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“I haven’t even spent a minute with you, and you’re already all worked up.”

Vance staggered away from her, walking to the exit, a white noise ringing in his ears.

“I met your new friend, by the way,”

Those words paralyzed Vance.

“You could say he and I kicked it off,” and she licked her lips, letting her words settle in. “I can’t wait to sink my fangs into this one. I’m sure he’ll be absolutely… delicious.”

Vance gritted his teeth and left without saying a word, but he looked angry enough to kill the first person who looked at him the wrong way.

Ewan was in bed, enjoying the peaceful, blissful silence of sleep. Last night was the longest night of his life, from being tortured for several hours, to being coerced into joining a shadow organization and having to sneak through the city so that they could avoid suspicion until he was able to shower and change at a complete stranger’s house. When that was done, they went shopping for clothes for the both of them, making small talk like they were friends, until they finally rounded out the night at a restaurant that reminded him of a nice Las Vegas eatery, where the cuts of meat reminded him of filet mignon and the liquor tasted spiced chocolate. It was a surprisingly pleasant way to end the hectic day, and when it was over Alice helped him officially sign up for The Adventurers' Guild. Ram was curious to know what happened, and there were inquisitive stares, but everyone minded their own business, and Ewan was able to retire and get some much-needed rest.

Part of him thought about Jacob while he slept, about him having taken the life of another human being. Despite his animosity toward people like Jacob, there was a small part of him that regretted taking another person's life.

There was a knock at the door, and it jolted him awake, but he fell back asleep almost immediately.

There was another knock.

Maybe if I ignore them, they’ll go away.

Another knock, and it was much louder this time.

“I know you’re in there,” and Ewan recognized that voice to belong to Charlotte, the woman he had met yesterday. “I’m going to keep knocking until you answer me.”

“Good grief,” Ewan mumbled.

Another loud knock.

He threw himself out of bed and ran up to the door, swinging the door open to see Charlotte, with her bangs swept to the side, wearing her brown hair in a high ponytail. While Ewan looked like a sleep-deprived wage slave, Charlotte was dressed to impress. She wore a brand new pair of boots, and a cute skirt that matched her perfectly tailored flannel shirt.

She opened her mouth to speak, but she hesitated to say what was on her mind, so Ewan waited patiently.

“Ram told me everything.”

“Okay…”

“What made you do it?” As if he had just been splashed with cold water, Ewan’s weariness was dispelled and his eyes lit up. “Some fucking idiot stepped out of line. I did what should’ve been done.”

“Do you have any idea what he’s going to do to you?”

Charlotte saw Ewan smile through his anger, but she blinked and saw someone who looked like he had never been angry a day in his life.

“I’m taking things one day at a time,” he said.

“I, uh, don’t think that’s a good idea. He knows people. He can ruin you. He can ruin me. We need something. A plan.”

“I’ll support you and you can support me. How’s that sound?”

She shoved him, but he didn’t stagger back all that much. He wasn’t angry at what happened, but he was surprised at what she did.

“Sorry,” she said. “That was a big aggressive but—how are you like this? I know they tortured you… it can get worse.”

“Let’s continue this over some food. My treat.”

Some of the tension that built in the air was diffused at that moment.

“Okay,” Charlotte said. “I can always appreciate a free meal.”

“Great. Would you get us a table, preferably away from other people?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll see you down there. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Ewan smiled, nodding politely as he closed the door. He made his way to the dresser and picked out a fresh pair of clothes, and took the time to make his bed. The fatigue from the previous day was still there, but he figured a meal and maybe some coffee, assuming this world had coffee, would benefit him.

As he got dressed, he thought of the person that Jacob might have been, and that made him think about his mom, and something she once told him, a long time ago: I raised you, the way I did, so that you would never be like him.

Ewan met Charlotte on the first floor of The Adventurers' Guild, where the bar and restaurant were located. The place was less populated at this time of the day, and that gave them the space that they wanted. They chose to sit at a table away from everyone else, and a waiter brought them a jug of water and two cups.

“Can I get you anything else to drink?”

“Can I get a coffee, extra cream?”

“You’ve got it, boss, and what about you Charlotte?”

“Water is fine, thank you,” and she turned to Ewan. “I also know what I want, so whenever you’re ready, we can order.”

“Sure,” Ewan said. “You first.”

Charlotte clasped her hands together. “I’ll have the champion’s breakfast, please.”

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said.

“Two champions, comin’ right up,” and the waiter walked away, leaving the two to themselves.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you,” Charlotte ended up saying.

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Charlotte hugged herself, and she looked away from Ewan, as if she were embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I do. Things can and will get worse.”

“You don’t know that.”

Charlotte glared at Ewan, the fury in her eyes, the disappointment on her face, was reminiscent of a person on the verge of hating someone. “You seem like an okay guy, but I hate foolish optimism. It pisses me off.”

“Be mad about it,” Ewan said. “I’m not going to change who I am so that you feel better.”

“How the fuck are so calm about this?”

“No matter how hard my life has been, I’ve managed to come out okay.”

“You. Are. A CIVILIAN. You have no power. If Jacob chooses to ruin your life, what could you possibly do?”

Ewan felt his own anger bubble to the surface, and Charlotte saw a glimpse of who he really was. It reminded her of Jacob, but they were different people. Jacob had an explosive temperament but the man she was looking at had a different sort of rage.

It made her even more wary of him.

“The other day, I told you that I'm here for you,” Ewan said. “I know words don't mean much, so give me time, and I can show you that with me around, you have nothing to worry about.”

“... I want to be honest with you. Part of me worries that you’ll be even worse than Jacob.”

“That’s fair,” Ewan said as the waiter came back with his cup of coffee. He graciously accepted it. “As cheesy as it sounds, it really is better to be safe than sorry.”

“How can words be cheesy? You can’t eat words.”

“Ah,” Ewan said, enjoying the hot coffee. “Well, the point I was making is that it pays to be cautious.”

“Women have to be. People have to be. There are a lot of evil and callous people in the world.”

“It’s a real problem, isn’t it? And it’s made worse by people who have no conviction, people who want things to be done but never take it upon themselves to do anything. These people basically feed into the problem. And when that happens, people like Jacob, develop this mentality, where they think they can get away with anything,” Ewan took another drink of his coffee and thought about what he would say next. “I always hated that.”

“Me too…”

“It’s even worse when an abuser is in a position of power, but those people forget that other people have power, too. There’s power in solidarity, in working together. But that only works if people stand up for themselves.”

“You’re really passionate about this.”

“I don’t think anyone should have to live in a world with abusive people,” Ewan said. “It’s not hard to treat another person with respect and decency.”

“That reminds me,” Charlotte said. “Jacob has a lot of issues, but in his defense, he hasn’t had the best life.”

“I don’t care how bad his life was. There’s never an excuse to abuse other people,”

“Oh, yeah, I wasn’t—”

“Why the fuck would you care about how bad he had it?”

Charlotte felt the fear run through her veins. Ewan wasn’t exactly raising his voice, but there was an undeniable coldness in the way he talked. If Jacob’s anger was a fire, then this man was like an ocean during a storm.

“I… I just think we should be considerate of his circumstances.”

Ewan looked at her like she had committed an act that could not easily be forgiven, the way society stares at people who violate others, the way society views people who prey on children. The way he looked at her was the way she had first looked at him, a type of gaze people reserve for the feeling best attributed as hate.

“I want you to know that someone died because of him. Someone ended their fucking life—because of him.”

Ewan was surprised that he was close to crying, but he was taught not to show too much, so he buried the sadness until it was locked away, deep in his heart.

Charlotte looked at him like she was about to cry.

“Don’t make excuses for bad people,” Ewan said.

“...I can’t help it.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious…?”

Ewan looked at a woman about his age, with a beautiful smile that betrayed the agony in her eyes. He stared at her and she stared back while the world around them seemed to fade away into nothing.

It was only them, the silence stretching like a cavern.

Before the food could come, Ewan placed a handful of money, or otherwise known as etherian in this world, on the table. It was more than enough for both of their meals, including a tip for the waiter.

“What are you doing?”

“He hasn’t had the best life?” Ewan growled. “Give me a fucking break.”

Ewan left her alone on the table, and he made his way out. He opened the door and stepped into the hot bright day and kept walking, his thoughts a whirlwind in his head.

As his anger consumed him further, his thoughts drifted to his own life, the upbringing that he had before he made it as a lawyer. He remembered his mother working long hours, never having too much time to raise him or attend to his emotional needs, but always putting in the work she could. He remembered doing what he could, too. While everyone else had fun and got to enjoy their childhood, he would work whatever job he could find, be it serving at a restaurant or doing construction work. He didn’t have it easy, but looking back at it, things could have been worse. He always had a roof over his head, and he never starved, either. But there were sacrifices that he could never get back. A fun childhood, a father figure, and a more involved mother. He never blamed her for not being around. He knew what she had to do, but the isolation he felt from her, and his peers, planted a coldness in his heart.

I’m still working on it, even now…

Someone approached him, and Ewan turned around to see Vance, the supposed hero who looked like he had just finished a graveyard shift.

“I was looking for you,” he said. “Is now a good time?”

“I was hoping to run into you again,” Ewan said.

“Follow me,” Vance said. “I need to have a conversation with you, but we’ll wait until we’re out of the city.”

Ewan nodded his head, and followed Vance out of the city proper.

They ended up at a crumbling church on the outskirts of the city, where the walls were covered with a flourish of beautiful, white flowers. Ewan turned around to see the gnarled forest that surrounded the property, and the beaten path that would lead them back to town.

“This is a nice place,”

“I do frequent it quite often,” Vance said. “It’s nice to have a place where you can get away from everything.”

“So what’s good Vance? What’s on your mind?”

Vance leaned against the entrance, crossing his arms as he did so. “I’ve recently been assigned a mission that’ll take me out of Cottonheart, and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for. I wanted to meet up with you beforehand, and train you on some basic fundamentals.”

“Can’t I just come with you?”

“You’d die,” Vance said this without any hostility whatsoever. It was like he was stating a fact. “I might not even make it back from this one.”

“You’ve got this,” Ewan said. “You’re the hero, after all.”

“That was a long time ago,” Vance said. “But we don’t have all day, so our little heart-to-heart will have to come another time.”

“...When you first met me, you told me that freedom was the reason you were helping me. I appreciate that, but there’s gotta be more to it. No one is that altruistic.”

“Helping you is in my best interest,” the once-upon-a-time hero said. “But also, you remind me of someone I used to know. So in a way, I’m also doing this for them.”

Ewan smiled, despite his compromised emotional state. On the inside, his uncertainty made it feel like a hangman’s noose was wrapping around his throat.

“I’ll repay you one day,” Ewan said.

Vance walked down the pathway, the flowers swaying behind him and the clouds overhead opening up to a light drizzle, causing a slight chill in the air.

He turned around. “Focus on surviving.”

An invisible energy emerged from his body, but Ewan could see some of it, like heat waves roiling in a desert, covering his body like armor. The energy stabilized, becoming almost solid in form.

The birds that flew above could not see this energy, nor the animals that skittered at the forest perimeter, but Ewan could, the translucent and strangely familiar force of will that was like something out of a fantasy novel, something that did not exist in his own world.

“Think about a time you’ve been angry in your life,” Vance said. “Every human, no matter the life they’re born into, experiences this emotion. The violence in your heart is what lets you channel Ki, both offensively and defensively.”

“With its given name, I was expecting it to be a zen sort of thing,”

“A person needs a capacity for violence, in order to be peaceful,” Vance said. “An inability to do harm is weakness. That’s not to say that you should be angry all the time, but you should be able to channel your pain into something productive.”

Ewan thought about the countless, sleepless nights, and all the sacrifices he made to achieve the life that he wanted.

A sort of tranquility washed over him, when he remembered how it had finally paid off.

But that life was gone. His dreams had been turned to ash, and even though he had hopes of returning, it didn’t change the fact that his current situation was less than ideal.

It made him angry.

Why did I have to die?

All that hard work.

Everything I did.

And now I’m here.

He felt his heart rate spike like he had been sprinting a marathon, and he could feel his body tremble from his own rage, his breathing becoming erratic.

Charlotte’s words played in his mind again.

He hasn’t had the best life.

More excuses, Ewan thought to himself. Grown men being babied.

For a split second, the image of his father came to mind, but he tore that image apart, throwing the pieces into a mental vault.

“Good,” Vance said. “Let yourself feel that rage. Don’t run from it,”

Ewan looked at him, his eyes smoldering with a cold, intense fury.

“Now take that rage, and think about something you love,”

That took Ewan by surprise, so much so that it felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

“There’s nothing evil about anger,” Vance said. “It’s just a matter of how you use it. Sometimes, anger can be a beautiful thing. It shows us what we care about, and what we’re willing to fight for. Take that anger you have, and channel it into a desire to protect or preserve someone you love.”

He thought about Iona, and the life they were building together. All the ups and downs. He thought about his mother, the woman who had given so much for him, and then he thought about himself, the man who even in his mid-twenties was still figuring things out.

He felt his anger cool into a tranquil fury, and his heart calmed down.

“There it is,” and Vance came in like a lion running top speed, stopping just ahead of Ewan and telegraphing a single, straight punch.

Ewan raised his guard, but Vance’s blow came in like a car crashing into him, sending his body flying through the doors, the wood shattering like a bomb had gone off. He tumbled and rag-dolled a few meters. He felt his ears ring as his body creaked in pain.

But to his surprise, he held up a lot better than he had expected. Normally, something with enough force to send you through a wall would severely wound, if not outright kill, a person. But his bones were fine and his limbs moved without much effort. He wasn’t even bleeding.

He looked at Vance, who was stepping through the fragmented doorway.

“You’re alive,” Vance said. “That means you were able to channel your Ki properly.”

“I would’ve appreciated a warning,”

“You’d never learn that way,” and Vance positioned himself so that he was just a meter or so away from Ewan. “Like a diamond, Ki is best refined under pressure.”

“Okay fine, but before we start beating the shit out of each other, I’ma need a better play-by-play,”

Vance pondered this for a moment. “When a person harnesses their anger, doing so effectively channels their Ki. We give that Ki further direction by thinking of something we care about. The starting process is remarkably simple, but it requires considerable willpower. Everyone gets angry, and everyone has something they want to protect, but there are many who can’t process their anger. They run from it, or they deny it exists. That cowardice is counterproductive to channeling Ki. And while everyone values something, not everyone fights for what they want. There are many weak and complacent people. It takes a lot of personal conviction to be able to channel Ki. If you’re someone whose actions never matched what you preached, your Ki would’ve failed you.”

“Okay, I’m following so far,” Ewan said.

“So you’ve awoken your Ki, due to considerable trauma in your life, whatever that might’ve been. You channel your Ki using anger, and you give it further direction by focusing on something you value,” the older man looked relaxed, but his eyes told a different story. “The refinement process takes a considerable amount of time, but it’s still relatively straightforward. It’s not too far removed from working on a muscle group. The more you use it, the stronger it gets.”

“Okay so,” Ewan interjected. “Back when we first met, you told me that if I overdo it, I’ll tear my body apart.”

“Improper use of Ki will tear your body apart,” Vance said. “Sheer willpower can only get you so far. If you don’t give yourself time to build up your tolerance and control, you’ll end up killing yourself.”

Ewan nodded his head.

“And this should go without saying, but for posterity’s sake, only you can know the limits of your own body. Be smart about your progression, and don’t go dying by your own power… You already have an impressive affinity with your Ki, but don’t let that go to your head. At the end of the day, Ki doesn’t make us invincible.”

“Are there any other things Ki can do for me?”

Vance put his hands in his pockets. “Anger isn’t the only way to channel Ki, but it is the emotion I’m going to focus on. For anger, the use of Ki significantly enhances your mental and physical power, and it can even provide you with resistance to magic, but you need to walk before you can run.”

“Fair enough,” and Ewan surged forward, coming in with a vicious right hook that connected to Vance’s face. The sound of the impact was enough to be heard throughout the church. Ewan felt like he had slammed his fist against layered steel, the impact sending a violent tremor down his arm, but he pressed the assault, following up with a series of violent blows, but the older man didn’t budge. His muscles were like reinforced concrete.

Vance spun around and tried striking Ewan with a spinning backhand, but Ewan dodged, taking a step back and putting some distance between them, looking for an opening.

“You’ve got a good center of gravity,” Vance said.

Ewan didn’t respond. He was focused on the fight.

Vance threw a straight jab and Ewan raised his arms to block, but Vance brought his right leg down like a scythe, slamming it against Ewan’s thigh. Ewan’s leg buckled, and the pain was like having hot coals shoved into his leg.

Vance threw a right hook, and Ewan managed to weave under and retaliate with a few, successive blows to the man’s stomach, striking where the kidneys should be, but it was like he was driving his hands against a powerful and unmoving mountain.

This fucking guy, showing off.

Vance slipped through his defense and struck Ewan’s stomach. Ewan staggered back, and Vance came in with another kick, only for Ewan to dodge and kick back, his leg slamming into Vance’s stomach like a baseball bat.

Ewan didn’t hesitate. He came in stronger and faster than before, but Vance moved like someone who had spent his entire life fighting. There was no wasted effort, no mistake in his movements. He blocked and weaved, letting the younger man show him what he was made of.

“You fight well,” Vance said.

Ewan ignored his praise and pressed the attack, but Vance punched him so hard that he woke up on the ground.

“You’re not dead,” Vance said. “Good.”

Ewan recovered and renewed his assault, his Ki enhancing his body beyond the limits meant for man. Vance felt the power behind every punch, every elbow, every kick. Ewan was a man who fought like he wasn’t afraid to die.

Vance broke through Ewan’s offense and began slugging him violently, his fist like sledgehammers raining down.

They kept fighting, but while the floor became red with Ewan’s blood, Vance’s body was unperturbed.

Ewan started to black out, and his vision began to go dark, but his rage exploded through him and he punched Vance one last time. To both their surprise, it was enough to break the old man’s defense, giving Ewan enough time to reposition himself and create some distance.

A small trail of blood dripped from Vance’s busted lip, and the older man smiled, like a father proud of his son.

Ewan felt a sense of pride, but his body felt like it was about to break. He could barely stand.

“How long have you been fighting for, young man?”

“Most of my life,” Ewan said. “Fighting kept my mind well.”

“It helps,” Vance said. “Fighting has always been good as an outlet for anger, and done properly it builds discipline and character. I see good potential in you, Ewan. But I caution you against making the same mistake as other young men do.”

“I’ve heard this before,” Ewan said. “You’re about to tell me that violence won’t solve my underlying issues. It won’t fix what’s broken inside of me.”

“Good,” Vance said. “It would seem that your father did a decent job at raising you.”

“Nah,” Ewan growled, his eyes burning with rage. “He didn’t do shit. My mom was the one who raised me.”

“My apologies,” Vance said, his eyes softening. “No child should have to bear that weight upon them.”

“I’m good, dude. I don’t need pity,”

“I never intended to give that to you,” Vance said. “I’m simply telling you the truth. And since neither of us is here to talk about our feelings, how about we keep going?”

“How long are we supposed to keep doing this?”

“We’ll be done when I say we’re done. If you let up, I’ll kill you.”

Unlike the threat from Alice, Ewan felt a strange sense of peace at the man’s words, even a sense of camaraderie. “That’s great,” he said sarcastically. “I don’t want my life to be too easy.”

And the two men went at it again, savaging each other like old enemies meeting on the battlefield. Ewan fought his hopeless battle, raging against Vance until his bones felt like they would crumble to dust.

The fight ended with him bloodied and beaten near the altar. Ewan knew that the old man could’ve done worse. He could have shattered his bones and turned his body into mush, but for as ferocious as the older man was, he held back.

He was holding back the entire time.

“God damn,” Ewan said, looking at the man who had his outfit covered in blood, none of it belonging to him. “I’d hate to be your enemy.”

“An endearing sentiment,” Vance said, outstretching an arm to him.

“I, uh… can’t really move right now.”

“Try using your Ki to accelerate your healing,”

“...what do you mean,” Ewan had to take a moment to catch his breath. “If the overuse of Ki can tear my body apart, how can it possibly heal me, too?”

“Think of a blood transfusion,” Vance said. “This medical miracle can save your life, but if you were administered too much blood, you could die instead. Using your Ki to heal yourself works in the same way. It’s all about control and maintaining a healthy equilibrium. If you’re too sporadic in using your Ki for healing, you’ll damage your body instead. So, to start off, try to visualize something that’ll help you calm down.”

“So if I’m understanding you correctly,” Ewan said. “Channeling Ki requires a degree of emotional control?”

“That is a good way of putting it,” Vance said. “Ki is primarily channeled through the integration of emotions.”

“Anger is for fighting,” Ewan was talking to himself at that moment. “And calmness is for healing… calm…”

Ewan closed his eyes, and thought of a gentle river flowing down frosted mountains, the idyllic forests that surrounded the water, and the animals that grazed upon the riverbank. He thought of the water flowing into the lake, where the surface reflected the endless blue sky. His breathing slowed down, and his heart rate stabilized, his bones mending from the supernatural energies washing over them.

But then it stopped, and Ewan opened his eyes, suddenly more exhausted than before, his breathing erratic, like he was on the verge of throwing up.

“You pick up fast,” Vance said. “But you’ve reached your limit. Don’t use your Ki anymore, or you’ll die.”

“Hold on,” Ewan said through a labored breath. “You told me earlier that if I overdid my Ki, I'd die.”

“This is correct,” Vance said.

“So why was... this training so intense? I was tortured recently. I felt the pain of my lungs bursting in my chest...”

“I'm aware of that,” Vance said. “It must have been painful.”

“Your training is worse,” Ewan said. “I've... never been in so much physical pain in my life...”

“Good,” Vance said. “That was the entire point of this.”

Ewan steadied his breathing.

Vance extended his hand. “Can you stand?”

Ewan allowed himself to be hoisted up by the older man. While he was grateful for the support, his mind and body were on the brink of collapse. It was a struggle to even stand.

“I needed to take you to your absolute limits,” Vance said. “I did this so you would know what your limits are. I don't want you accidentally killing yourself.”

“I feel like we could've eased into this,” Ewan said.

“It would've been the wrong way to do it,” Vance said. “How often in your life have you been pushed yourself to the absolute limit of your abilities? You mentioned that you trained before, and it's apparent in the way you fight, but have you ever been trained like today?”

“No...”

“Had I not done this, you wouldn't have known what your real limits are,” Vance said. “But now you do. Now you know that if you go past this limit, you risk killing yourself. You'll have an idea of the warning signs that your body is giving you, and you'll be less likely to panic when that happens. From here on out, you can focus more on building up your tolerance. That'll increase the limit you have now.”

Ewan felt his ambition kindle in his heart. “I’ll do my best.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Vance said.

The two men turned around and saw Alice leaning against the entryway, which had one of the doors ajar from having Ewan blasted through it, earlier in the fight. She was wearing a white dress with pink floral patterns, and her blue eyes looked at them, or rather Ewan, with the intrigue of someone stumbling across an exotic animal for the first time.

“Looks like you two were having a hell of a time,” Alice said, making her way to them. “Did something good happen?”

“What I do with my time doesn’t concern you,” Vance said.

“You’re always so cold to me,” Alice said, her smooth voice like finely tuned music. “What have I ever done to you?”

“I must be going now,” but he was speaking to Ewan. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Yeah, you go show that vampire what happens when you mess with humanity!” and she raised her hand for a jubilant high five, but she was left hanging by the hero Vance, who had chosen to instead walk away, not even bothering to spare another word for her. Alice, lowering her hand, looked like a child who had been neglected.

Ewan staggered to her for a moment before resting on one of the pews, his legs feeling like they had iron weights chained onto them. “What’s your relationship with Vance?”

Alice sat beside him and threw her arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “It could be better, but I think it has to do with the disconnect between us, specifically in the way we approach killing people. For Vance, I don’t think he ever liked killing people, even if he’s really good at it.”

“So by contrast, would it be fair to say that you enjoy it?”

“I have a deep reverie for it,” Alice said. “Every human seeks power and control, so what greater display of that pursuit is there, if not for the dominance over another person’s life?”

“That’s a tyrannical mindset,” Ewan said, the anger dripping like poison in his words. “Humans were born to be free. No one has a right to control anyone.”

“But that’s exactly what you did when you killed Jacob,” Alice mused. “You controlled his destiny, and you ended any potential that he might’ve had as a person. You may have stopped him from hurting other people, but you also robbed him of any chance to become better.”

Her words were like leeches gnawing away at every part of his body, sucking his vitality right out of him. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t refute what was said.

“You and I aren’t so different,” Alice said. “Maybe we have different ideologies, but at the end of the day, we approach life in a similar manner. If we have the power to change the world in a way that best suits our needs, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“You know…” Ewan said. “Had we met under different circumstances, maybe we could’ve been good friends.”

“What’re you talking about,” and she gave him a friendly pinch on the cheek, gazing into his eyes. “I think you and I are well acquainted already.”

Ewan looked at her, his eyes devoid of any friendliness. “Real friendships aren’t built through coercion.”

“Are you gonna try and give me a lecture on love and trust?” she teased.

“Why did you come here? Do you have something important to tell me?”

“You’ve got a mission,” Alice said. “An old dwarf requested assistance in being freed from his mortal coil. We can take care of the cleanup, you just need to be the one to end his life.”

“An assisted suicide?”

“Yeah,” Alice said, a somber tone in her voice. “He’s a cop, an official one, but he was recently caught smuggling an illegal narcotic into town. The punishment for that sort of crime is death by torture, the same one that you went through.”

Ewan thought about the horror of drowning over and over again, the feeling of his life slipping through his fingers and the darkness that was darker than anything he had experienced in his prior life. He then thought of having that happen to him until he broke, mentally and spiritually.

“Blows my mind,” Alice said. “That someone could do a drug that practically annihilated their own people, but I suppose that’s what happens when you become addicted to something… anyways, I’ll take you to the house, and then you can have a little chit chat with the man, and then do the deed.”

Annihilated an entire people?

“How am I doing this?” Ewan asked.

“We’ve got a premade bottle of old-fashioned,” she said. “His favorite liquor since he was a child, but in addition to the orange bitters, we mixed in some doomshade, so the poison will kill him, but it’ll be relatively painless.”

Alice procured a small vial, which had a pink-colored liquid inside of it. She mimed herself drinking the vial and then handed it to Ewan.

“Don’t drink it yet,” she said. “The anti-poison has a decent duration, but it’s best if you wait until we get to his place. I’d hate for you to die by your own hand.”

Ewan pocketed the vial. “So this guy’s last wish is to share a drink with someone, and I’m supposed to be that person?”

“I think it’ll be good for him,” Alice said. “Some man-to-man bonding, before his life comes to a close.”

“This request… it’s different from how I killed Jacob,”

Alice leaned against him. “From my experience, this type of request is atypical. We usually don’t bother making small talk with our prey, but this man has been a long-term coworker for Chlo. It deeply pains her that he has to go.”

“I’ve got questions,” Ewan said.

“Table them for now,” Alice said. “You have a job to do.”

Ewan felt a single, icy drop of melancholy hit his heart. Deep down, he had always feared what would happen to him if he had to go against someone he knew, someone that he cared about. Would that act have haunted him until the end of his days, or would he allow his heart to become cold? What would his friends think of him? What would Iona have thought?

Would his mom be proud of a man who sent one of his own to die?

Ewan shoved those feelings aside and followed Alice out of the church. Outside, the clouds had formed a thick gray blanket in the sky, casting a chilly shadow over everything. Ahead of them, there was a bird that looked like a raven sitting on the pathway, albeit the tips of its feathers were a deep, dark blue.

It opened its mouth and spoke with an uncanny, human voice. “The Ad Nauseum connects to everything that ever was and everything that ever will be. If your heart ever wanders from your journey, Ewan, you can always go there.”

“I’ve never seen a shadow crow talk to someone,” Alice said.

“Why are you telling me this?” Ewan asked the bird.

“All crows are connected,” the crow said. “Consider your kindness repaid.”

The bird soared away, and a single blue-tinged feather fell from its body, only to be carried away by a passing breeze. Ewan watched the bird fly out of sight, and he managed to salvage a memory from his teenage years. One day, he found a wounded crow in his backyard. Feeling bad for the bird, he utilized the internet so he could figure out how to nurse the animal. When it regained its strength, he released it to the wild, and he never saw it again.

He had never anticipated that he would gain any good karma from what he did.

“There’s more to you than you’re letting on,” Alice said.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well,” Alice said. “Why else would the crow recommend you check out the most dangerous place in the world?”

“You could always ask the crow,” Ewan said.

“I do enjoy a man who plays hard to know,” she said.

“You’ll never know me,” he said.

“One day, you and I are going to look back at this very conversation,” Alice said. “And we’ll both have a good laugh about how wrong you were.”

Ewan actually smiled at what she said, but as he followed her down the beaten path, his mind became torn between thinking about assisting a man who wanted to die, and a potential way to get back home. If Alice was telling him the truth, and The Ad Nauseum was truly as dangerous as she said, then it may not be the best option.

And deep down, Ewan had a genuine desire to keep his promise to Fantasy, the woman that had given him a second chance.