He had dozed off when he heard a sharp noise. It wasn't the first time. Daily, sometimes for endless hours, rowdy groups would pound on his glass cage, trying to get his attention. Some would lower their pants and take a piss in front of him; others would tell him stories about massacres against his own people. A few simply stared at him as if he were a wild beast caught as a trophy, standing there for hunters to admire their achievements.

Wasn't this it, after all? A beast abandoned in the middle of the agora, the gathering place of the palace, locked in its prison so the ordinary folks would feel proud for taking the side of the Queen in this war. They would have liked this beast to lose its mind, and eat its filth from the chaff. Probably, lose his nerve after taking a shit for ten consecutive years in plain sight, but he wouldn't grant them that favour. First, he would seek revenge on everyone, kill and torture those who ordered the Night of Crystals, and then he could go find his brother in Naalan. He was sure his brother was in the sacred place of the gods.

Aitan wouldn't want any of this. He didn't believe in violence. He admired how his brother thought they could only talk to each other and find a solution if everyone had laid down their weapons. He was such a pure soul. He never harmed anyone.

Their parents disappeared when they were both young. No one ever told them anything more than that their father was killed in a labour accident and their mother had to leave to protect them. He asked everywhere for her, but no one had anything to say. After the first few days of mourning for her, he focused on raising his younger brother. He taught him to read, respect others, and care for their needs.

The day he swore into the order and officially became a Skywalker, he promised he would always return to their home. And so he did on the day of the massacre. No crystal, as harsh as it was, could stop what was coming for the palace. He would kill them all, one by one, until this war was over.

The noise sounded again, even louder like glass dragging in the sand. Arsen pushed his hair away from his eyes. His beard had started to turn grey. He was in his late twenties now.

"It smells like urine and mould," he heard a voice say.

Arsen stood up and let the chain on his leg slide to the ground. He looked at the glass door, which at the bottom sealed a small hatch from which soldiers threw food every morning, and saw three uniformed men approaching him. Two were definitely Crystal knights; the other he knew well. The crystal on his cape with the petrified sea creature suggested he was a prince. Blond hair combed back and tied in a long ponytail. Delicate features like an elf, with a pronounced jaw. Yes, indeed, he knew that bastard from the palace. He took out a white handkerchief and covered his nose and mouth.

"Do you know why kingdoms are the oldest and most powerful institution of mankind, Arsen?" he addressed him, then continued after a brief pause without waiting for any reaction. "... because they stayed true to the pyramid of blood. Because they didn't disturb cohesion with trivial shifts in power. Because power is something deeper than the crown itself."

Arsen looked at him without speaking. He looked at him with the same hatred he would look at all his brother's murderers.

"Then...' the prince continued. '.. people, believed that this ancient stability, this institution that enabled man to dominate over other creatures and to subdue every danger before it, could be shared... and it brought hatred among men. Truly, Arsen, your tribe is so naïve”.

Arsen continued to stare at him with the same icy gaze. He approached as much as he could and spat on the ground beside the prince's black boots.

"Let it be. I imagine how difficult it must have been all these years to share your life with the people of the palace. Truly, why would it be difficult? Aren't you one of them? Aren't you a child of the people? Why was it difficult to share every moment of your life with common people?"

The prince nodded, and the two soldiers exited the cage, closing the door behind them.

"Tell me about your brother, Arsen," the prince leaned towards him and spoke.

At the sound of the word 'brother,' Arsen became a beast. He stretched out his hand and slapped the bastard before he could step back with such force that he fell. The soldiers tried to enter the cage, but he gestured for them to stop. Then he burst into loud laughter.

"What do you want, Musa?" Arsen asked, his muscles tensing. Throughout the years he was locked in his cell, one would expect him to have lost his strength, to have atrophied his body, but he exercised daily and continuously to keep his mind clear and his body strong to fight whoever he needed to when he got out of his cell.

"The important question is, what do you want, Arsen," he answered, wiping the blood from his lip with the handkerchief.

".. let me help you with that.. you want revenge for your brother's murder.. isn't that what you want, Arsen? You don't care if the Knightwalkers ever prevail or if your comrades win the war and the palace crumbles into thousands of pieces as it collapses. All you care about is that the people who killed your brother suffer, right?"

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Arsen looked the prince in the eyes.

"Who killed Aitan."

The prince rose from the ground, flicking his blue cloak over his attire.

"The Skywalkers fly through the skies searching for Aurora. They're trying to infiltrate the palace and find out her whereabouts. I have news for you, Arsen. It has been fifteen years since anyone has heard about Aurora. No one knows where she is, if she's alive, or if she still wants to be the queen of the Crystal Kingdom."

Arsen looked at the prince suspiciously.

"You don't believe me? I don't blame you. Why should you believe the man who imprisoned you for ten whole years? I remind you that you slaughtered dozens of my people in that cave. Remember that we hate each other, so I believe you deserve it. However, I didn't give the order for the attack that night. I didn't have such authority anyway. There was no reason for soldiers to descend into the cave pits for so many innocent people to be slaughtered like your brother."

"Stop it, I think I'm touched by how good a person you are."

"Irony. Fair enough. I'm not a good person, Arsen. I just believe that we killed the wrong people. Some in the palace wanted to send a message internally; they only cared about the number of dead, not who they were. You're a trained soldier, Skywalker, I think you understand what I'm saying. Wanting to see you begging the palace for mercy doesn't mean I want to see the whole world burn. I'm not insane like those who gave the order that night."

Arsen let out a heavy breath.

"I'd like to make it easier so you don't waste your saliva, Musa. I don't care if you think you're a philanthropist or a leader of some sect within the palace. All I want is for you to tell me what the hell you want before I kill you."

"You're free."

Arsen looked at Musa and then rolled his eyes with irony.

"Really? This is the first time I've seen a dead man walking, releasing his executioner."

"You won't kill me, Arsen. Because what I told you before is true. I didn't want anyone to die in the cave pit. But I do want everyone who still believes that the family of an imprisoned queen who has been missing for over fifteen years can decide the future of the palace to die."

"What do you have to say about all the families you butchered in the Jericho, Sandshit?"

"I have to say we're at war, soldier. As long as we fight, all sides will only experience pain."

"That's why you want to let me go, Musa? To take your pain away? Give me a crystal sword, and I swear it'll be so quick you won't even realize when your head hangs from my hands."

"You won't kill me, Arsen, for only I know to whom the sword belonged that passed through your brother's chest and then vanished like a shadow in the caves. Only I can deliver to you the murderer of your brother and those who plotted that massacre of your people."

"In exchange for what," he replied, his lips twisted with hatred.

"You will bring me Aurora, Arsen. You will capture and bring me Aurora."

Arsen smiled mockingly.

"What do you think I did before you imprisoned me in this wretched cell, Sandshit?"

"Now it's different. Our scouts found a crucial clue. Dichroism."

Arsen lifted his gaze, and for the first time, he ran his fingers through his beard and tangled them together.

"Isn't that the element all Skywalkers were searching for in the sky, Arsen?"

"Where?"

"Where did they locate the dichroism? Hard to tell if you're going to kill me, Skywalker."

Arsen pushed his lower jaw to the left. He sighed deeply and looked him in the eyes.

"Maybe I won't kill you. Yet."

"That's significant progress. After all, I'll die eventually, and the gods will judge me."

"They'll have a lot of work... speak."

"Above the lakes of Ara. Between the peaks of Tochal."

Arsen laughed and shook his head disappointedly.

"In Sogdiana? Tell me the Scythians are hosting your queen in their land."

"I don't know anything more."

"Let me give you a hint then. If there's dichroism, the swallow flies low, trying to find something. Whatever it may be, if it made the mistake of approaching those lands, it's likely already dead, and your queen is submerged along with her palace in one of the lakes."

"You only assume."

"Have you ever fought the Scythians in the dust, Sandshit?"

"If you call me that one more time..."

"Fair enough... you haven't fought. Because your palace hides behind the mountains within its crystal shields, hurling fiery stones at its adversaries. You wouldn't last a minute against such a warrior."

"But you...you could handle it, Arsen?"

Arsen licked the salt off his sweat on his upper lip.

"..Isn't that right, Skywalker? If there's a warrior with the strength and knowledge to fight in the mountains and endure the hardships of this journey, it's you..."

"That's why you want me free?"

"Now we're talking clearly, Arsen. That's why, now, I'll release your chain. I'll let you step out of the glass cage you spent the last ten years of your life, and instead of killing me, you'll bring Aurora back to the Crystal Palace. Then, I'll deliver to you the murderer of your brother and those who organized the massacre in the cave pits. What do you say to that?"

Arsen clenched his fists. He looked at the chain around his foot. Around his ankle, his skin had burned, the wound oozing thick yellow liquid. Perhaps it was his only chance to escape this glass cage. Possibly, at that moment, if Musa was being strangled, this cell would become his tomb, and he'd never have the chance to kill with his own hands the man who murdered his brother. It was a tough decision, but he had to make it.

"Okay, Sandshit. Release the chain, and I promise those who stand before me will live."

Musa looked at him without blinking.

"Okay, Musa..." Arsen said, and with a nod, Musa ordered the soldiers to release the chain around his foot. The wound opened immediately, and blood mixed with fluid as soon as the steel loop came off his foot. He restrained himself. Even the smell of the crystal knights' armour brought him disgust. He spat on the floor as soon as they finished and stood up. He approached Musa. Arsen had to be at least a head taller than him. His broad shoulders, filled with muscles, smelled of sweat. He looked him in the eyes.

"I haven't forgotten that we're enemies, Arsen, don't worry," Musa said.

Arsen stepped out of his glass cage and took a deep breath. He smelled the clean air as if he had emerged from his mother's womb for the second time. He closed his eyes for a moment, unable to believe that he was finally free, that the beginning of the end for his brother's murderers had come. He passed by the soldiers who had surrounded him and headed towards the gate opening before him. His feet felt the warm sand. He didn't look back.