Life in the north was harsh.

Plagued by the cold wind, the hard ground was hardly a place where vegetation could grow. But where there is water, there is life, and through snow and ice, creatures find a way to survive. In a world like Exarria where bountiful mana existed, life in the north was not barren. Though the earth was solid as steel, plant roots dug with even greater force. Herbivores had vice-like teeth, and their predators even sharper fangs to tear into their prey’s thick hides.

There was a reason why only the beastmen inhabited the north. Their wary eyes could detect the slightest flutter, and their ears the smallest crunch in the snow. Their limbs were developed enough to chase; their claws and teeth did not break while ripping through hide; their fur kept them warm through the coldest nights.

Life in the uncivilized north was simple. Run and hunt, take and run. Steal eggs from the nest of a red-eyed giant hawk, chase down fanged rabbits. Hide from the prowling predators when the sun grew red in the distance. Pick up berries. You took what you needed when you needed it.

Was stealing eggs from a bird’s nest wrong? No, because they had to fill their stomachs. Was taking the life of smaller prey wrong? No, because they had to fill their stomachs. If they were killed by a predator, was the beast evil? No, because it too, had to eat.

Having grown up with such loose concepts of property, it was only natural that uncivilized beastmen were scorned upon by their neighbors. As one ancient elvish scholar called them, ‘Savages that feasted on raw flesh and blood, without a speck of decency in their culture…’

Now, things were much different. There was a government, a country, and a developed civilization in the north. Many cities had been built on the cold grounds, and magic had made farming somewhat possible. But the north was vast and uncontrollable. Small villages lay scattered across the land, hidden from progress and integration.

The tiny birthplace where Ronar and Prem had come from was one such village. They had no education; the only life they knew was hunting, taking, and running from wild beasts. Their mother had taught them the common tongue, and their father had taught them how to survive.

Ronar never had liked hunting. It was dangerous and scary. He always preferred to go for smaller prey. Prem, taking after his brother, was also a coward; he picked up berries in a small basket weaved from dried vines. Though their father would shout at them, their mother had always hugged them, telling them, “Maybe you belong somewhere else. Somewhere where hunting isn’t the only solution.”

Now over the years, the number of these isolated villages had thinned significantly. The central beastman government had always wanted to rid their land of primitive cultures. A new cultural pride had emerged in the infant nation as they compared themselves to the elves, humans, and dwarves.

They didn’t want blemishes. Much like the conquistadors of old…a tactic was being used.

And so, Ronar and his younger brother had traveled. Hunting, running, and stealing. Nature didn’t tell them to stop. No one had told them to stop. But because they didn’t steal from the merchant who came by once in a few months, they did not steal from people.

That is, until people stole from them. Looking down at his empty hands, dirty and bruised, Prem’s right ear cut off from trying to get their stolen items back, Ronar grit his teeth.

In the end, civilization was the same as the wild. Survival was taking. Losing was dying.

Everywhere was a hunting ground.

Failing to enter the capital, the beastmen had relocated to the south where they began to gather funds. And now, after meeting Shaden, many things had happened.

Shaden had been Ronar’s first shock. Giving away silvers for free, even offering them a means to return home with a cure—it was unreal. Absurd. He had honestly thought they had met their end, but instead, they had been given a second chance.

So, suppressing his instincts, he had decided to be passive. Or rather, his cowardice prevented him from acting. But the boy had been kind to him. A kindness he had not felt in months.

The ship’s captain had been his second shock. The bearded man had offered him a job worth a few coins, and having nothing to do, he had accepted it. He had soon gotten to know the crew, their laughter and personalities, and he thought,

Maybe it wasn’t so bad. He was enjoying it. His expectations of civilization that had been broken at the capital were being mended. Slowly, but surely. He smiled more. The river was a vibrant place. Though his one regret was spending less time with Prem, but Shaden was talking to him.

He remembered why he had first come south. Not only for the cure but to experience something new. Something unordinary. But they were traveling north. He had only just begun to relish the experience. He didn’t want to leave.

He tripped and the crystal dropped. It was an accident. The captain told him to not worry about it. But a small thought, a genius scheme came into his mind. He told the captain that he would repay it.

Tell me the price. I’ll pay it back, I swear.

Thirty silvers were the price. One day of work was one silver.

He told Shaden about it. He told his brother about it. And he traveled with the captain on the river, toiling his body to repay the captain’s kindness, that mystifying kindness.

He returned to see Prem off. The captain had given him a small pouch of silvers for his work. Seeing Prem’s jubilant expression told him he could leave in peace. He was being selfish, no doubt. But Shaden would take care of him…right?

But when his brother took out his pouch of silver, and the elven guard began to walk towards him—he remembered. The hawk that came after its eggs with its giant talons. The boar that his father had killed for stealing eating berries. The events of that bloody day at this very exact riverbank.

His instincts took over him. Beastmen were always instinctive. It had allowed them to survive in the north.

“Now!!!” he had shouted. His brother took off like a deer, and Ronar, being the protector, had distracted the predator.

The current situation. Whose fault was it?

Ronar’s fault for lying to his brother in his selfishness? He was a hot-headed teenager.

Prem’s fault for stealing? He was just eleven, without proper guidance.

Their father’s fault for leaving? He had only wanted the best for his family.

Shaden’s fault for not telling Ronar that he’d pay for him? Or rather, his fault for neglecting Prem in the inn while they went off and enjoyed themselves? He had thought he had done enough. Everyone had agreed to it too.

The beastman government’s fault for unleashing Blood Fever? They wanted their country to improve.

Life isn’t fair. Whose fault was it?

〄 〄 〄

Shaden was feeling great. The month had been wonderful, filled with delicacies and sights to behold. Naerathim really was a small country in itself, dyed with the many colors of elven culture throughout the ages. He smiled. Demund had wished to travel, and Shaden was enjoying it all.

What other sights would he see? The more he saw, the more he anticipated. Maybe flying carriages. Maybe giant dwarven machines. What even would dwarven machinery be like? So many questions had come and gone within his head. Time passed quickly, and perhaps two years wasn’t that long.

Suddenly, he heard shouting in the distance.

“Catch him!” bellowed one guard. “Don’t let him get away!” cried another.

A crime? In the middle of the day?

There weren’t any buildings besides the large Riverside Inn in the vicinity.

So crime happens here too.

The insides of Naerathim had been (at least on the outside) completely free of danger. There was order in every corner, manners in every building. Everyone had been well-dressed. The streets had been beggar-free. So if a crime were to happen, it would happen outside the walls.

“Prem?”

The boy had run out of the inn. He hadn’t been noticed by anyone. Had something happened within the inn?

Sensing something amiss with the situation, Shaden turned to his companions.

“I’ll go take a look.”

Prem was running to his direction, so he went forward to meet him. Seeing Shaden, Prem’s eyes lit up and he began to move faster to him.

Where was Ronar?

His question was answered when he heard a crash of glass. He looked up to see Ronar emerging from the window of the inn, carrying what looked like a small pouch in his hand.

“Shaden!”

The boy reached him and grabbed his arms, trembling. His face was full of horror.

“What’s happening?” demanded Shaden.

“H-help me!”

Shaden’s quick eye noticed guards coming their way. If Prem were to be taken in, he wouldn’t be able to know anything.

Shaden grabbed Prem by the arm, and a thin, opaque mist covered their bodies. Prem looked bewildered, but after seeing Shaden’s stern gaze, he shut up and stood still. Shaden pulled Prem to the sides and the guards passed them without noticing.

“Prem. What happened to Ronar,” Shaden asked again.

“H-he—I—there’s, I don’t—I wasn’t trying—”

The kid was a mess. Tears had begun to stream down his eyes, and his words were a mess of nonsense and jumbling. A sour taste formed in Shaden’s mouth. He had an idea of the events that had occurred. Guards, Ronar and Prem running away; it meant crime.

“Sh-Shaden…”

“What is it?” replied Shaden, slightly annoyed.

“R-Ronar said…keep your promise. T-take me home.”

“Like I asked, what happened?”

He had been feeling so happy just moments before. Now, a numb feeling hammered against his skull. After the things he had done for them, had they returned to crime?

Had…he not done enough? Was he supposed to help them more? What was he supposed to do?

“T-that’s…”

Prem looked down, refusing to speak. Shaden bit his lower lip.

“Fine. If you won’t speak—”

“R-Ronar! Ronar, he…he…”

“Did he steal?”

Prem didn’t speak. But in a small voice, he sobbed silently, “Take…me home. He said…keep your promise.”

Promise. The promise he had made with Ronar on the boat.

“Don’t get separated from me,” instructed Shaden. “The guards will catch you if you do.”

The boy nodded rapidly. Shaden began to walk towards the inn while pulling the beastman. His mind was a jumble of thoughts.

What had happened? Did they resort to crime? Why? They had received jobs. Because of Ronar’s debt? Why did Ronar steal just when he returned to Naerathim? Why—

The voices kept speaking in his head, and Shaden felt dizzy. Ronar had been a nice guy when he had met him. Why resort to crime? Why now?

He was overthinking, and it made him nauseous. He had to ask the person himself.

Ronar was easy to find, because within ten seconds of smashing through the window, his legs had been ensnared with plant roots that a well-dressed elf had cast. He was now standing with his arms behind his back, being held by another elvish guard.

With Prem in his hand, Shaden neared the prisoner and his guards. Prem was shaking, staring fearfully around him, but not a single soul noticed their presence.

“……is bothersome. I just came here, and now I need to go back. Sorry, Prist. The window—”

“Just fix it like you always do.”

“My pleasure!”

Shaden frowned. There was very little tension considering Prem’s shaking and blubbering. He continued to walk closer to where Ronar was. Then he stopped.

Ronar…didn't look like a prisoner. His body was bound, and his hands were cuffed. But his demeanor was one of peacefulness, calm and composed. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t look like a criminal. His eyes were searching for something, but worryingly.

Anger he hadn’t known he had rose up from Shaden’s stomach. The situation looked clear. Ronar had done something harmful, and yet he didn’t show any guilt. After everything Shaden had done for him, he was the same as before. What about their promise of not stealing again? He felt betrayed, slapped in the face.

Why are you so relaxed? What about your brother, who is weeping right in front of you?

“Shaden…”

“Let’s go, Prem.”

Their paths were meant to part today anyway. What Ronar did, where he went wasn’t his responsibility.

“W-wait—Shaden, I…I…” stuttered Prem, his tears becoming heavier.

“What?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“My brother…he…he…I…”

“Is he innocent?”

Prem nodded ever so slightly.

“Then who caused this? Why is your brother chained?”

At this question, Prem looked down and shut his mouth. Shaden didn’t know how to react.

“……we’re leaving. I’ll at least keep my end of the promise. Come on, let’s take you home.”

Dragging the weeping kid along, Shaden passed through the people with a heavy heart.

〄 〄 〄

“If I had told him sooner, he might have not stolen…”

Shaden was holding his knees on his bed. They were headed north on a ship, to the furthest port in the beastmen country. It was the beginning of a new adventure, but Shaden didn’t feel joyful. If he had told Ronar that he’d pay, then all of them would have been on the boat at that moment. Ronar returning to thievery had disappointed him. Much more than he had expected.

Were his actions wrong? Villains became good all the time in his books. Was it just wishful thinking?

“I expected as much,” stated Eilae, cleaning her nails. She was freer with herself now in front of him. “You can’t trust criminals. If they aren’t properly penalized, they will not change. Even then, they must be monitored.”

Eilae put down her tools and placed her hands carefully on her lap. “You did nothing wrong. They simply took advantage of your kindness. I’d say you can’t trust the younger boy either.”

By the time Prem had been forced on the boat, the life had been sucked out of him. He had moved along like a slave, without a will, without expression. He had cried before that, continuously for two hours.

The shock of seeing his brother arrested had worn him down. Perhaps Prem had been disappointed too.

“I promised to take care of him.”

“Promises are always broken. The only promises that are kept are the useful ones.”

“That would make me the same as Ronar.”

“I wouldn’t say so. You hold the higher authority, so the lesser must obey.”

“Is that what you really think?”

“Yes. To be more specific, you owe nothing to them, nor do they have the authority to make you act.”

“I……I think a promise should be kept.”

Eilae shrugged. “In the end, it is your choice. I am merely making suggestions.”

Shaden fell onto the bed and closed his eyes. The day had suddenly felt so long. His mood was ruined. Prem was dejected. Eilae was almost happy even, and his tutor…well, his tutor was uncaring as usual. She had nonchalantly taken the news of Ronar’s arrest with, “Ah, I see.”

They didn’t need to worry. He had been the one to start all of this. Regret began to sprout within him, but he pushed it down. What was done was done.

He couldn’t change the past.

〄 〄 〄

Shaden knocked on the side of Prem’s door. According to the ship’s crew, the boy hadn’t left his cabin for the past two days. Shaden hadn’t felt like talking to him, but after his head had cleared, he felt sorry for the beastman. His brother was likely being shipped off to a labor camp somewhere.

There was no reply. Shaden sighed and knocked again.

Still no reply.

“Prem?”

He couldn’t hear any noise from within. He banged his fist against the door.

“Prem!”

Shaden’s worry grew as the silence persisted. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. It wasn’t locked. Taking in a deep breath, Shaden pushed the door open.

The putrid smell of blood and urine penetrated his nose. He almost took a step back, gagging from the stimulus. Quickly covering his nose with his cloth, he looked around.

The room was dark, lit only by a small streak of light that fell through the small window. It was a small room with one bed, and Shaden spotted a lump on the straw mattress. A figure of a small body. It lay still like a large stone.

Panic filled Shaden.

“Prem!!” he yelled. He stepped forward and the smell grew worse. Irritation swelled from the back of his mind, but he ignored it. He took another step towards the still figure.

Was he dead?

He bit his lip. In the wild, he had been accustomed to blood and dirt. Filth could always be washed off. The long vacation in the clean, elven city had made him sensitive; he wasn’t one to be agitated by this.

Putting his cloth down from his nose, Shaden walked to the bed and grabbed the thin blanket spotted with hard, dark brown patches of dried blood. He pulled it off. The blanket clung onto the body beneath it, and Shaden summoned some water to remove the cloth off of Prem.

The boy’s hands and arms were covered with scratch marks, as well as his face and legs. No; his whole body was covered with scratches, deep ones from claws. His wounds had dried into fresh scabs, but there were still some areas where the blood retained its sticky substance. The smell of piss amplified a hundred times, and Shaden gagged at the stench.

Shaden immediately summoned more water and poured it over the boy.

No, no! He had to check for his pulse.

He reached forward with his hand and felt Prem’s neck. It was weak, but the heartbeat was still there. Relief flowed into Shaden’s body, but he couldn’t relax yet.

He wasn’t sure how to deal with this. Would his healing magic work? He had never tried it on scabs, just on freshly cut wounds. How about any infections? He had never cured infections before.

Realizing his mistake, he opened the window and allowed the fresh air to come in. His senses unclogged and he sharpened his mind. He circulated.

A calm aura stabilized his emotions. Or rather, his control over his mind and body increased, allowing him to think clearly.

Come on Shaden. You can do this.

Carefully, he lifted Prem’s body with telekinesis, supporting the body on its back, legs, arms, and head. The water had loosened the bond between the bloody flesh and the bedsheets, though there was a small ripping noise when they separated.

Come on. Come on. Slowly now.

Should he have gone for a doctor? Was there even one on the ship? Should he have asked Lytha? But he knew how much she disliked uncleanliness. Eilae would curse him if he brought Prem to their room. No, he had to do it here.

He closed the door with his mana-hand and turned on the light. A dim, tiny crystal illuminated the room in a yellow-white glow. Prem’s wounds stood out even more clearly in the glow, and Shaden unconsciously averted his head.

Yellow puss had begun to form. In small quantities, so he hadn’t noticed it before, but on the deeper gashes, they were there. Not to mention the other darker blobs of blood and flesh.

Shaden felt nauseous. Skinning animals and draining their blood looked like a child’s play compared to this mess. There had been infected animals, but he could simply cut that part off.

He clenched his jaw. There was a beginning for everything.

First, Shaden used water to clean the body as best as he could. The outer clumps of defilement slowly came off, revealing fresher skin underneath. Prem made a small groan, but he seemed unconscious.

I’m sorry I don’t know any painkilling magic.

After around two minutes, most of the outer corruption had come off. What was left were thick scabs and fresh blood that oozed out where the yellow puss once was.

I have to clear the infection.

He had never done it before, but he had a rough idea. Heck, he could mend together flesh, so if he put his mind to it, he could likely kill off germs from the body. But biology wasn’t that simple, was it? He could accidentally kill Prem’s cells while killing the germs. How did killings germs even work?

Shaden wished he had a spellbook with him. The elven religion probably had some books on curing. He was stressed.

Come to think of it, chanting magic had always been so straightforward. He had to give this a try.

Putting his hands towards Prem's floating body and imagining the foreign things in the body becoming eliminated, Shaden opened his mouth.

“Let the body be cleansed from its impurities, from its microscopic invaders and poisonous substances – Purify!”

Magic had begun to gather rapidly at Shaden’s palms while he had begun chanting, and when he uttered the last word, it burst forth and enveloped Prem’s body. An unfamiliar sensation was imprinted into Shaden’s mind as the magic worked. It was always like this when he used new types of magic.

The light green glow seeped into Prem’s flesh, and the soothing color turned brighter when it came into contact with Prem’s wounds. Shaden was bewildered that the magic had worked, but thankful, nonetheless. As the glow died down, murky liquid dripped out of Prem’s back—likely the impurities in his body.

Did this mean he could cast any magic he wanted?

His thoughts were broken by Prem’s groan. The work wasn’t finished. Keeping his hands up, Shaden cast healing magic on the now-fresher wounds. They began to close up under the scabs, the outer epidermis wriggling slightly as the cells stitched themselves together.

Prem’s body was looking much better now. Shaden continued the treatment for thirty more seconds before stopping. The scabs were still there, but the flesh around it looked healthy and fully healed. It was an odd sight, seeing large scabs all over Prem’s body. Shaden touched one of the scabs with his hand and pushed on it. The wet covering fell off like a soggy bandage.

The floor was soaked and decorated with bodily waste. He probably shouldn’t have carried out the operation in the room, but there was no point in regretting.

With a sigh, he looked back.

Lytha was at the open door, arms crossed, expression blank. Shaden almost yelped.

“Aunt! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he complained.

His tutor slowly looked around, saw the floating body, saw the blood and debris on the floor, and looked at Shaden.

“What happened?” she asked curiously.

“Prem was wounded, so I healed him.”

“You were very conspicuous with your mana. How much did you even use?”

“I’m not sure. Probably a lot.”

“A lot……hah.”

She shook her head but returned to looking at Shaden.

“So? Do you need my help?”

“Well—yep. Could you take Prem upstairs? Give him water and food? I need to—”

Shaden pointed towards everything around him.

“Alright. Give me the boy.”

“The scabs come off easily, so take them off or whatever.”

“Where are his clothes?”

“His clothes?”

Shaden scanned the area and found some shredded cloth to the side of the room. Lytha, too, spotted the remains and sighed.

“Give him to me.”

Shaden carefully moved the body over to his tutor, who accepted it with her gentle hands. She was extremely strong and carried the body with little effort. Even when looking at the scabbed body and smelling the odor of the room, she was unfazed. Shaden could never tell what she was thinking. She always looked relaxed.

“And you?”

“I need to clean this place up.”

“Well, good luck. Looks like rough work.”

Lytha turned around and left the room, leaving Shaden alone in the smelly, wet, bloodstained cabin.

This sucks.

Now that the emergency was over, Shaden had to deal with the other nitty-gritty problems. Could he pay the crew to clean all of this? Probably, but they’d be disgusted from it. It was better to do it himself.

The bed, sheets, and blankets would have to be removed. They were all so dirty.

“Alright! Let’s do this!”

He summoned water and jumped into cleaning, using the window as a waste bin.

〄 〄 〄

When he returned upstairs after an hour of rigorous cleaning, no one was in the room. After looking around for a bit, he found everyone in the dining area, Lytha sitting next to the now-awake Prem, and Eilae sitting across Lytha. His tutor was spoon-feeding the meek boy, who’s eyes looked dull and shoulders were all drooped. He was clothed in a simple tunic.

Shaden sat down in front of Prem next to Eilae. Prem’s scabs looked like they were off, though pink scars were covering his arms and face.

‘So? Explain yourself, Prem,’ was what he would have said if the boy didn’t look so depressed and weak. It was as if he would fall over at any moment.

“He hasn’t said anything,” said Lytha after a while, “other than, ‘Ronar.’ The boy’s a wreck.”

Shaden continued to stare at the boy. Finally, after all the gruel had been consumed, he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Prem. What happened. Did you hurt yourself?”

Slowly, Prem raised his eyes. And he nodded.

“Why?”

“……”

His eyes looked empty and dull.

“Give him some time,” said Lytha. “A day or two. I’ve seen something like this before.”

“………how is he?”

“No apparent wounds or infections. I was surprised. If I knew you could detoxify earlier…”

“Ah, please no.”

“It was a joke.”

It certainly didn’t sound like one.

“I’ll take care of him, Shaden. Go play with Eilae,” reassured Lytha. “I have experience.”

“Can I leave him to you?”

“Who else?”

“…thank you. Let’s go, Eilae.”

Eilae’s face lit up unnoticeably as she followed Shaden out of the room. Shaden was perplexed. Had Prem been that devastated? Was he to blame for this, not telling Ronar that his debt would be paid earlier, causing him to steal?

He had wanted to appear at the end like a hero. It had been his selfishness.

His heart sank a little.

〄 〄 〄

Lytha was true to her word.

“Shaden. Come talk to the boy,” she told Shaden in the afternoon of their third day. “Take your time and keep a cool head.”

Once more, Shaden sat across Prem. Lytha left the room, leaving just the two of them in silence. Shaden urged Prem to speak, and the boy muttered a word of thanks before recounting his story. Shaden felt a little better, but not for long. As Prem continued, the heavy feeling in his chest grew denser.

“So you’re telling me, that it was you who stole the coins, but Ronar took the blame for it,” Shaden concluded after hearing Prem’s story.

Prem nodded weakly. “I……can’t. I……just did……what my…….brother…….”

His voice was still weak, and he forgot what to say at times. His outer wounds had healed, but his mind had not.

Shaden was about to shout at him. But the boy must have been feeling guilty too. The guilt of leaving his brother behind. It was the reason he had tried to kill himself in his room, starving and bleeding to death.

Shaden held his head and leaned against the table. There was a certain numbness clogging his mind, making him want to lie down and close his eyes.

Annoying.

He hated himself for thinking that. So Ronar was innocent? Is that why he had looked so relaxed back at the city? Now what? They couldn’t possibly go back.

“He told me to take you home,” Shaden murmured without much thought.

It had become eerily silent. He raised his head towards Prem.

Tears had begun to fall down his face. Silently. Prem wasn’t mourning; in fact, there was little of what could be called expression in him. But as he sat there on his seat, mindlessly staring at the empty air, face now crisscrossed from scars, water fell from his eyes in a steady stream.

He looked like a crying statue.

“Prem.”

“Shaden…….I…don't know what…….to do…anymore……” the boy whispered. “Ronar…was…everything. And he’s…gone……now.”

What was he supposed to do?

Shaden was suffocating. He didn’t know what to feel. Was he supposed to comfort him, or rebuke him? Feel compassionate, or angry?

Suddenly, the door of the room swung open with a gigantic bang. Both Prem and Shaden jumped a little as Eilae stomped into the room, her face looking like she was about to murder someone.

“Eilae—”

Without answering him, Eilae marched directly towards Prem’s still dead character and stopped in front of the beastman. Raising her hand, she swung it with great force, and her palm collided with Prem’s face, making a tremendous smack that filled the room.

Prem dropped to the floor like a dead fly, tears still pouring from his eyes. But seeing his unfazed, dead expression, Eilae’s temper only grew worse. With one hand, she grabbed the boy’s collar and lifted him without much resistance. With her other hand, she began to smack the boy on his face continuously.

“I heard everything, you thief!” she shouted as her blows continued. “I couldn’t care less. But you’re affecting Shaden, you’re affecting the trip. Your ungratefulness is ruining everything!”

“Eilae—”

“Don’t stop me. You’re too kind for your own good. It makes you look foolish. Because you didn’t discipline them properly, look what happened!”

Shaden shut up as Eilae continued to wreak destruction of Prem’s face. The boy raised his arms weakly to defend himself, but his strength failed him.

“I hate it. I hate lowly people like you. You never strive to fix your problems, but always rely on others. You take the easy path of petty crime. Imbeciles like you should just die!”

There was passion in her voice, and Shaden was flabbergasted. He stood there dumbstruck, unable to react to Eilae’s sudden outburst. She had always been so calm and collected.

The dull smacking continued to fill the room. When Shaden finally gained control of himself, parts Prem’s face was becoming blue.

“Eilae! Enough!”

Shaden rushed forward and stopped Eilae’s arm. She had been reinforcing her blows with circulation, and he almost failed to stop the incoming strike.

“Eilae. That’s enough.”

“……………blockhead,” she whispered unnoticeably. “I apologize for my behavior. That was unbecoming of me.”

Eilae then let go of the groaning beastman, got up, and left the room with elegance. Sighing, Shaden kneeled on the ground to check up on Prem. His face was swelling, but his eyes looked more alive.

Shaden knew what to do now.

“It…hurts…” moaned the boy.

“You deserved it. This is your punishment. If you understand, stop being such a wuss. Your brother is not dead.”

“But…! I can’t…live without…!”

“You can! You told me before that you wanted to become more reliable. Prove it. Live without him.”

“I’ll die!”

“You won’t!” shouted Shaden. “You’re still alive right now. How about your mother? Your father?”

“My…mother…”

“Yes, your mother. You got the medicine, didn’t you? Take it to her. If you die here, you’ll have failed Ronar. He trusted you, so live.”

“He…trusted…me?”

“He took the blame, right? He exchanged his life for yours. How can you say he doesn’t trust you?”

“I…I…!”

Prem burst into tears, but this time, with greater vigor. Sobs erupted out from his mouth, and he wept bitterly, hugging himself tightly. He continued to cry, and cry, and cry, and cry.

He was full of life.

Shaden got up and left the room.

Eilae was waiting outside, her hands behind her back. When Shaden came out, she bowed her head towards him.

“I’m sorry. I said some things that weren’t—”

“Thank you.”

“What?”

“Can I see your hand?”

Eilae hesitated, but eventually put out her hand. Her delicate skin was red and swollen, showing how hard she had slapped the boy. Shaden touched it, to which Eilae winced.

A warm glow enveloped the hand as Shaden used his magic. The redness began to fade away, and the hand began to decrease in size. After a few moments, it was completely healed, and Eilae gazed at it observingly.

“That’s…wonderful. Thank you.”

Shaden shook his head. “I should thank you. You really cleared my mind. Does it hurt anywhere else?”

This time, Eilae shook her head. Shaden smiled.

“Let’s go,” he said.

〄 〄 〄

Many things happened since then. Prem regained himself, and like his brother, began to help around the ship, mostly scrubbing the floors. Lytha had suggested it to him. Eilae still avoided Prem, but the feeling was mutual now. But perhaps because of her, he had grown some common sense. He didn’t cry since that day, nor walk around like a corpse. Though weak, he was doing something.

Shaden took time during the day to visit Prem, just to check up on how he was doing. The boy was always silent and seemed to think more for himself now. He’d smile and say, “I’m okay now.”

He was still very shaky, no doubt. He had seemed a little lost after that first day, but perhaps he was growing up. He could do it if he put his mind to it. He had spent time alone at the inn. So why not in the wild?

They didn’t speak much. Prem was avoiding Shaden’s party. When he said hello, he’d nod and go back to work. The funny thing was, Prem hadn’t told the captain about his work. He was scrubbing the floors with rags that were laying around the ship without telling anyone. It probably helped him think.

Whatever else he did, Shaden didn’t know. But he certainly wasn’t stealing. A small improvement to his character.

What about Ronar? He was far away now, in who-knows-where. If luck had it, he’d see his brother again.

〄 〄 〄

“Are you sure?”

Prem nodded. “I remember the way.”

“But you’re going alone.”

“……I can do it.”

At the port city in the north, they said their goodbyes. Shaden had wanted to escort Prem to his home, but he knew how to read the mood. This was a journey Prem had to make himself. Others were going in that direction too who Prem would travel with for a while.

“Thank you…for everything,” Prem said. Then he turned away and left.

It didn’t make Shaden happy. Seeing the boy go, with only a coat and a small bag—it didn’t make him happy. The cure potion was within Prem’s bag, weighing heavily on the boy.

Would his mother still be alive? It had been so long. If she wasn’t, what had been the point? Losing his brother?

Prem grew smaller in the distance. Shaden could only watch.