I stare at the captain in silence. I cannot think straight – Fa is a part of me? Fa… Fa is me? Fa killed someone in my body? I can feel my mouth hanging open but I cannot close it. I feel my cheeks growing warm and wet. I want to look away but I cannot. I want to run away but I am frozen. All the futures seem to merge into this one moment, the intensity of which is palpable in my soul. The captain looks back, their eyes filled with a controlled pity. They are pitying me, pitying what’s unfolded and yet, I am here from my own actions. Time slows to a halt, yet after a few blinks it is late at night. My legs are numb and my body is a mass of pins and needles.

The captain stands up and regards me sternly “You shall stay locked in this room, for your own good and ours. There will be guards placed outside and all on this plane will be told to kill on sight. Tomorrow you shall return to Langnet’s road. The knife shall stay here, you will need it tomorrow.” The captain takes out a dreg collar, “Now I don’t want to do this, but I would appreciate it if you put this on your neck. You must understand that you are truly a risk now. We cannot let Fa escape again.”

I take the collar. It is cold and unforgiving. It limply folds open in my grasp. I lift it up and with a click, it is locked. It grows warm, then hot and cold once more. The binding is complete, this collar will never come off until… until… I don’t know when. The captain leaves. I have no amount of Dreg required of me, the only thing is to walk the road. To be both Fa Fumerunners jailor and jail. I… this is to atone for my sins. I should not have killed and given into Savra, yet I did. Yet I did. Why?

Why did I kill when he was already in custody?

Why did I kill when he was already being punished?

Why did I kill when he was already collared?

Why did I kill when he was already on deaths row march?

If you want answers, hold me once more,

We will journey through the soul’s door,

Bonded from ceiling to floor,

Journey we must before,

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Our lives are now war,

The underscore,

To restore,

Now roar,

Soar,

Before,

Civil war,

Drives you ashore,

Do not dare ignore,

Our aid can stop the gore,

March to the beat and the score,

Without us your fate will be poor,

Hold me – don’t resist us anymore.

I am back, how strange and quaint this all is,

Tell me Savra, what is our fate’s thread now?

Is it cut and in dire ruined quiz?

…I see – interesting this is but how?

Ah, together we shall be bound and tied,

How poetic. I am free, yet confined,

With Gan’s body and soul shall I reside,

The hunter and prey shall be intertwined.

Run my dear, for I shall be by your side,

Cry my dear, life did not end when I died.

A metallic clang brings me to my senses, Fa has borrowed deep into my very soul like a worm through an apple, and the hole left behind lets me hear echoes of his thoughts. Disgusting thoughts and desires. Such a being can never be let out, and yet that means I am to march down Langnet Road, I am the one punished for being his jail. This is not fair, yet is this something I must do? I tear a sleeve off and use it to pick up the knife. No change, thank Gan’la. I shall carry you, Fa Fumerunner. I shall hold you, Savra – but I shall walk. I know what you say, you can speak to me in futures. I can see the future where you come out and slit my throat, but I can see so many other futures where you discuss the most horrific details of my family's murders. Yet even more than that, I can see a near-endless set of futures where you agree with me and my terms with an evil grin. You think there will be victory, that I will hold Savra and let you out once more. You know that if you leave here, you will be the one walking the road, and I know you fear the Watcher. You hate the Watcher. You know it has power over you and that is why you let Savra go. I can see your snark turn to a snarl. I can feel you grow hot with fury at the thought but I can see that poker face, the one you displayed so well in court and during your many kills. I shall not be swayed by it.

Why don’t we make a deal?

I will walk the road. I will take the brunt of the punishment. I will be your jail and shelter, but if I am under attack – if I need to escape, you will be the blade that strikes down my foes. You will not overstay your welcome, for if you do, you shall meet the Watcher once more. You shall get cursed once more. I feel acceptance coming from your dark, damp hole.

Deal?

Deal.

Deal.