Rafael finished his shift, checking his phone on the way to the car. Still no reply from Derek or Tyler. He didn’t expect anything from Evelyn. Rafael checked his watch and saw it was barely eleven in the morning. He had an early shift at the grocery store, mostly working on stocking shelves. Saturday morning was busy with weekend shoppers.

He drove home, glancing at the clock every moment he could. He was eager for answers, ready to figure out how to get these characters home so that he could break off from the group for good. The monster prowling around his mind still made him deeply uncomfortable.

He pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. The heat pushed him into his house far quicker than anything. He walked in, seeing Alejandra there in her McDonald’s uniform. The house smelled of bread.

“Going to work or coming home?” Rafael asked.

Alejandra checked the fridge. “Going.”

He winced, remembering he should have gotten groceries. “I’ll get more food tomorrow.”

She went back to the countertop. “No worries. I made some bread. I think it tastes pretty good.”

“You… made some bread?” Rafael asked. She finished buttering a slice before holding it up. Rafael took it, curious, and bit into it. “This is amazing. How’d you make bread?”

“I looked it up and followed the recipe.” Alejandra licked a bit of melted butter off her finger. “Mom’s got a ton of pots and pans in here we never use. I wanted to try it out. Hraktar and Ezekiel are out hunting. You can tell them they’re welcome to some when they return.”

Rafael shrugged and took another bite. “It tastes great. Thank you.”

She beamed, grabbing her hat and opening her hand for the keys. Rafael dropped them into her palm.

“I’ll be leaving a bit early for work. Thankfully, I’m not closing, so I’ll be home by nine or so,” Alejandra said.

“Alright. I’ll see you later.”

She left as Rafael kept munching on the bread. It was surprisingly good. He didn’t realize his sister could make bread. It always seemed way more complicated.

He finished the bread and moved into his room to get his homework done. He had a paper due in English he wasn’t excited about.

The door opened and Ezekiel walked in as Rafael was organizing his textbooks. “Oh, hey. Alejandra said you and Hraktar were out hunting.”

“Yeah. We were. Hraktar’s skinning the rabbits as we speak. Should make a nice stew,” Ezekiel said.

“Alejandra made some bread. She said you’re welcome to have some.”

Ezekiel’s eyes brightened. “Perfect!” The cleric eased himself down on the bed. “Hey, you’re avoiding me again. Like before.”

Rafael froze, not quite sure what he expected from his socially awkward cleric. “Um… yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

Ezekiel frowned. “You’re feeling incredibly guilty, right?”

Rafael sucked on his teeth, trying to keep a calm head. The monster started prowling, waiting to see what yet another person would do with its existence. “Yeah.” Rafael glanced out the window. “Yeah, I am feeling incredibly guilty.”

Ezekiel nodded. “I don’t blame you. You did something evil.”

The monster bristled, and Rafael closed his eyes. He still felt the soreness of his healing ribs. “I did. I messed things up.” He again looked at his textbook, the smile on his face faltering. “Like… really bad.”

Ezekiel seemed to study Rafael again, a slight frown pulling at his lips. “But it’s all out in the open now. We can work through this. As long as you stop hiding.”

Rafael didn’t know how to express himself well enough. He obviously wished it had never happened. Wished he had been strong enough to never hurt Evelyn. He’d played it over and over in his mind, tried to will his past self to stop drinking. To not text Evelyn. Things would have been so different if he had been a better person. If the monster had never formed.

He placed a hand over his ribs. The ones that were the sorest. “Thanks for your undying enthusiasm, but… things won’t be the same.” Rafael glanced out the window. “I hurt a lot of people.”

Ezekiel shrugged. “Yeah. You did. You also created me.”

Rafael kept his eyes on his homework. He couldn’t follow this cleric’s logic at all. “You’re the good I could never be, Ezekiel. You never would have done what I did.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “The best thing you can do is figure out a way to return to Nick. I am the thorn in the group that needs to be removed. It’s all out in the open, and I need to leave. It’s better for everyone. It’s better for Evelyn.”

“I’m sorry, Rafael. I cannot transfer to Nick. You created me. I can’t go anywhere else.”

“But… don’t you hate me?” Rafael asked. The monster sat, listening. “Aren’t you disgusted that you have to be around me?”

“Are you disgusted that you have to be around yourself?” Ezekiel asked.

Heat pricked his eyes, threatening to form tears. Rafael once again stared at his homework. “Yes.” The monster growled at him. “Yes, I am disgusted. I wish it never happened. I wish I was a stronger person. I hurt my friends. Who does that?”

“Hraktar,” Ezekiel said. He then paused. “And Milo, sometimes.” He rubbed the light stubble on his chin. “Grizzizzik does, rather often. Princess Clarissa’s been known to slap me on occasion.”

Rafael shook his head. “This is different. This is so incredibly different from this that… it’s almost insensitive.”

Ezekiel frowned. “I… don’t understand.”

“This isn’t just snide remarks. Jokes that didn’t land, or slaps. I. Hurt. Evelyn. I… I violated her in the worst possible way. She has every right to hate me. I need to get out of this group. For her protection. No one should simply accept what I did. No one. This is disgusting. I am disgusting. I am…” The monster gave a growl, flexing its claws. Rafael covered his face, letting out a shuttering breath.

There was a pause, and a silence that meant Ezekiel remained in the room. Rafael kept his face covered, trying to keep a sob at bay.

“Everyone says that the person wielding our dice is the same person who created us. So, you… you should know my backstory.”

Rafael let out a sigh, then dropped his hands. “I threw something together. You needed to have a reason to stay in the temple reading books. I wanted you to…” Rafael gestured with his hands, aware that it made no sense at all. “Be at the temple your whole life before adventuring.”

“You don’t know why I couldn’t remember my childhood before the age of seven?” Ezekiel asked.

Rafael sighed. “No.” He looked away from Ezekiel. “To be honest… it’s what I wanted. To forget. Have a clean slate.” His eyes gathered tears. “To be… happy.”

Ezekiel again studied him, confused. “You think me forgetting my life, my family, made me happy?”

Rafael rubbed his forehead. “Well… you are happy. To simply not know.”

Ezekiel didn’t say anything, but the smile on his face flickered downwards. “The Great Lady considers knowledge from books as a way to gain a deeper understanding about the importance of life. Understanding stories, histories, all must be preserved to help us gain an appreciation for life. And I… didn’t have my own story.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Rafael swallowed. “But you’re happy.”

“Of course I was. Because I was gaining knowledge. Waiting for the day I learned what happened to me. Happy to make some friends. Go on adventures. I’d like to think I’m a very happy guy,” Ezekiel said.

Rafael nodded. “Yeah.” That was another thing he shoved into Ezekiel’s character. Happiness. It was for his own needs. He needed an excuse to be happy during uncertain circumstances, and Ezekiel gave that to him while roleplaying. “I… guess I never thought about it that way. Perhaps we can do something now to help you remember.”

“Remember what?” Ezekiel asked.

“What happened to you. When you were a child.”

Ezekiel again studied him closely. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time, Rafael. I already know. My friends have hurt me, and it’s better it all came out instead of it staying inside so we could work through it. Make the appropriate boundaries and stick to them. Rebuild trust. It’s a long journey, but it’s worth it.”

Rafael frowned, then straightened. “Wait… so they…” He glanced out the window, frowning. “I guess it had been two and a half years since I’ve played.” He remembered the times Tyler would try to get Rafael to consider Ezekiel’s backstory, prodding a bit at what he remembered. But he didn’t want to know. So much of Ezekiel’s happiness came from not knowing. He was seriously afraid that if Tyler thought of something grim and dark that his character would never be the same. He needed Ezekiel to be happy. Happiness was vital for his own survival. “What… happened?”

Ezekiel hesitated, then looked at his hands. “This is my story,” he said, almost reverently. “A battalion of orcs raided my village and burned it to the ground. My parents, my sisters, my neighbors, all dead. I ran and hid in the bushes to escape.” There was another beat of silence as Ezekiel looked out the window. “It was Hraktar’s tribe. Meaning… he was the mastermind behind the attack. He strategically gathered them to where they needed to go, set them loose, and won a battle on a group of innocent people to gain victory in a war. He killed my family.”

Rafael gasped. He couldn’t help it. “Holy shit. I’m… sorry.” His words felt hollow. That was dark. What was Tyler thinking?

“Hraktar didn’t know at the time. In fact, don’t talk to him about it. It’s still kind of a sore spot for him. He feels a lot worse about it than I do,” Ezekiel said.

Rafael touched his sore ribs again, looking at the wall. “So you remember… everything now?”

Ezekiel nodded. “I do.”

He stared at his character. Saw the cheerful guy he created. “How are you still happy?” Rafael knew his question made little sense, but Ezekiel seemed to understand.

“You were present when Alejandra asked about the Lady Zwitera. The sister of the Great Lady of Light. The goddess who takes on baby animals who were killed before they reach adulthood?” Ezekiel asked.

Rafael nodded. “Yeah.”

“Lady Zwitera has a twin sister. Lady Prodonos, Goddess of Orphans. She does the same thing, but with children.” Ezekiel glanced at a wall, touching his medallion. “My sisters are fine. They most likely didn’t stay too long with Lady Prodonos, as she is quick to find the parents once they die.” A tear fell down Rafael’s cheek. Ezekiel shrugged. “It took me a few days to forgive Hraktar. The pain he felt was clear. I applied what I’ve always learned in the temple of the Great Lady of Light. Learn a person’s story, and you gain an understanding that fills you with the compassion needed to accept the value of someone’s life. Hraktar has spent most of his life trying to fit in by doing horrible acts for his tribe. He was the only one with any tactical smarts among them, and he used it to prove his worth to them. His tribe refused to see it. But I see the value of his life. He doesn’t have to do anything to prove it to me. Princess Clarissa and Milo see it as well. Even Grizzizzik, though he won’t admit it. Hraktar has finally found a tribe who accepts him for who he is. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. He won’t go back to slaughtering villages, because we won’t ask him to do that. It would be silly of me to kick him out for something he’s already sworn to never do again. We set parameters in place as I worked through my grief. Hraktar was more than willing to respect it all. He almost left the group, but I told him to wait. I was afraid of what might happen to him if he left. He was in a bad state of mind. I don’t know if we would have ever found him alive again if he left.”

Rafael winced, then folded his arms. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. So much of Ezekiel’s story filled him with guilt. A guilt that made him not want to stew in silence between them. “I’ve been piecing together your story,” Ezekiel said.

Rafael glanced at him. “Mine?”

“Yes. Of how you grew up. Your father, he sounds like he wasn’t much of one.”

Rafael could no longer look at Ezekiel. “You could say that.”

“And when your parents divorced, it must have hurt you deeply,” Ezekiel said.

“Yeah. Well, sort of, it was just…” Rafael lifted a hand, trying to explain, but it was far too complicated. How could he possibly explain the relief that flooded him when he heard the divorce was happening? And then the sharp fear that came soon after? Women and children in domestic violence situations were in more danger when everything came out. It was the random statistic he heard, keeping him up at night. Keeping watch. Spending more than a few nights sleeping with a backpack within reach in case they needed to run. “Too much,” Rafael finally said. “It was too much.”

“Especially for a boy of fourteen,” Ezekiel said. Rafael blinked, the tears falling. “You spent years depending on yourself to keep you, your sister, and your mom safe. You never thought about getting help elsewhere. A boy forced to do that is bound to make a mistake and end up hurting those around him. You were given too much responsibility too fast. And you broke in half. In the breaking, you violated Evelyn.” Ezekiel’s voice was quiet. “I understand. I have compassion. Please let me help you. Let me help you rediscover the worth of life so you never do that again.”

Rafael quickly rubbed the tears away. “So…” He closed his eyes. “What do I do?”

“Evelyn needs to grieve,” Ezekiel said. “You need to let her. Stay away from her. Let her stay with Princess Clarissa. She is already doing much to help her. Evelyn needs to figure out some things first before she gets strong enough to approach you. And when she does, your apology needs to be the first thing that leaves your lips. If she does get angry and spiteful, let others fix it. You’ve done your damage. You need to stay away. Show Evelyn your support from a distance and do that by making sure other people get the story right. That you were in the wrong. Not only that, but it will never happen again. Because… I assume it will never happen again.”

Rafael nodded. “It will never happen again.” It was the most sure he’d ever felt.

The cleric nodded. “You’ve broken people’s trust. Words will be more difficult for them to believe. Actions will be stronger. You’ll never get everyone’s trust back. You’re filled with guilt. That is the… mana, almost, that you need to fuel your choice. You either wallow in it, or make the correct changes to be a better man.”

Rafael stared at his cleric. Stared at the character he abandoned for two and a half years in order to wrestle with the guilt that felt overwhelming at times. The guilt that made it so much easier to snap at Nick. To get angry at his friends. His sister. To make sure he said the things that made them glare at him. Keeping them at a distance. Now he felt empty.

But Ezekiel, a person who started as a figment of his imagination, made a cage appear and ushered the monster inside before giving him a list of instructions on how to get rid of it. He blinked away tears. “Do you think this will work?” he asked, almost hopeful.

Ezekiel cocked his head to one side, a frown tugging on his lips. “You don’t do this for a certain outcome of getting people to like you. Other people have their own choices to make. If you get kicked out of the group, then you get kicked out.” Ezekiel shrugged. “I guess it will ‘work’ if something like that happens and you walk away feeling like you’ve done everything you could. If you can come to a peaceful agreement with your soul that you tried your hardest, you failed, but you can try again to be a better person for a different group. And that truly, you will never do what you did to Evelyn again.”

Rafael nodded. “You’re a good acolyte, Ezekiel.”

A smile appeared on his face. “Thanks.”

“Ezekiel!” Hraktar called out. “Stew’s ready!”

The cleric’s smile widened. “Good! I’m starving!” He stood up, heading out of the room. Rafael watched him leave. For the first time since this all came out, he felt a seed of hope. Everyone around him patted him on the head, told him he was fine. Let the monster roam free. But now he had a plan. Ezekiel was right. He was on Evelyn’s side. One hundred percent. He did a horrible thing, and he broke the trust of his old friends. It felt nearly impossible to gain back, and he had to admit it might never happen, but he had a course of action.

He walked carefully out of the hall to see Ezekiel and Hraktar outside. Hraktar was stirring something in a pot, saying something. Ezekiel smiled, patting the fighter on the back. Hraktar nudged him with his shoulder. They started talking, though Rafael couldn’t understand any of it. He saw the deep friendship, almost brotherhood, the two of them had. Rafael would never have known what happened between them if Ezekiel hadn’t said something. He watched, feeling a deep pain in his chest.

He remembered how much he clung to the idea of Ezekiel having amnesia for the entire adventure. He didn’t want Tyler to do anything with it. Ezekiel’s traumatic backstory was to never remember. It was something Rafael wanted. A man obsessed with stories, and didn’t know his own. He’d create his own story with this adventure. He didn’t need a backstory.

It was Rafael’s own little fantasy escape. When he was little, he wanted to run away from home, but he couldn’t abandon his sister and mother. Not to Jack. But he craved a fresh start. An idea that he’d forget his entire childhood and start somewhere new was almost addictive to him. A way to abandon his family guilt free and get that fresh start he needed. It was something so insane he could only use that escape with a character from CCNC.

Then he did run away, metaphorically speaking. But he remembered all too well. He never got that sweet release of forgetting what he’d done. And while he was gone from CCNC, Nick took over his character. Took on Ezekiel, the leader of their little band, and through him forgave Hraktar for murdering his family and town while remaining true to Ezekiel’s happy self.

Maybe Nick needed his own escape. A leader of the group who was free to forgive horrible crimes. No doubt Ezekiel never brought it up with Hraktar. Never held it over his head. Once Ezekiel spent his time grieving, he forgave Hraktar and moved on.

Ezekiel cracked a joke, and Hraktar let out a loud, bellowing laugh. He closed his eyes, leaning against his doorframe. Fantasy escapism was no doubt addictive. Practicing it in real life was a completely different ballgame. But he’d have to try. Damn it all, he had to be a better man. Even if no one ever talked to him again.