His crusades earned the nation of Elneshe many enemies. But under Legosia’s supervision, their blades felt dull. His might and intellect forced him across many battlefields under Arneshal’s reign.

The king resided in his castle, while his Remont bloodied his hands.

-From the 8th Chapter of “The Remont of Elneshe”

Days bled into each other in the brig. The only thing keeping Rozu sane was his daily ritual. He’d cast off the thin blanket they’d given him, rise out of his bed, and put another scratch in the wall.

He glanced back up at the sun a few times, when it came out. It was so warm and inviting, and yet it repulsed him. Rozu couldn’t muster up the effort to even climb a single stone on the path out of his cell.

It was an unnatural feeling; one he knew wasn’t just his own. They’ve posted a Commander here. That’s how they keep the Bladeborn complacent, eh?

Some of those same Bladeborn would be granted freedom in exchange for their prowess. Some of them would be forgiven and move on. But Rozu hadn’t even been given the kindness of someone to talk to.

They’d forgotten him entirely, leaving him to rot in his cell day by day. The only interaction he had was the food they brought him, and the chamber pot they threw away. they’d drop it down between the bars, forcing him to pick it up off the ground like a dog.

Another scratch in the wall, another thud on the ground. Food’s here. Repeat ad nauseum.

Dirt and grime built up on his skin. The coluor of his clothes faded, and Rozu lost the will to move even an inch. He cycled bewl through his body, reinforcing it against the cold. But that didn’t provide him with the strength he needed.

Another scratch, another day.

“I brought you a clean rag. I thought you could use it,” Fezashi balled up the small cloth in his hand, throwing it down. It bounced off Rozu’s head, landing beside him.

“Rozu?” the boy asked him. No reply, like he was a corpse. But the boy wouldn’t believe that. Bladeborn were unkillable, stronger than a hundred men! They might have punished him, but Fezashi knew that Rozu would bounce back.

“I’ll be back tomorrow with some fruit, okay?”

And then the boy left. Rozu wrapped a cold hand around the rag, wiping his face once with it. It came back covered in filth, dirtied only moments after Fezashi had brought it to him.

One more scratch.

****

Why is everyone so loud? Rozu snarled. He kept hearing noises of bickering men and women, people running around and distant shouts. But there was no battle happening there. He knew why they were being so loud. They were taunting him, weren’t they?

Rozu looked up through the grates, where a cloudy sky covered the top.

“Shut up!” he shouted. His voice echoed across the walls of his cage, and the voices silenced.

But not for long. They resumed, and Rozu felt a fool. They were ignoring him, weren’t they? And if there were so many of the voices, why couldn’t he see a few of them.

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“Shut up…” he repeated to himself, drowning out the sounds with his own, curled up on his prison bed.

Scratch.

****

“Dad says that war is hard. Is he right?” Fezashi asked him. He’d learned the little tells Rozu had, and could roughly estimate the response of the man.

Yes.

“But I think I could do it. I just need to find out what my hallowmancy is. I know some don’t get it until way later.”

He looked down for another response, and Rozu told him ‘Yes’ again. He said that a lot, but Fezashi heard him say no a few times too.

“And when I do, I’ll break you out of here. Don’t worry, Rozu!” he tried reassuring the man.

Fezashi dropped an apple down the grate for him, but it landed on the dirt instead. It was fine. Rozu didn’t like eating in front of him, or using the cloth in front of him. but he still kept it.

“Goodbye for today!” he waved him away, even without the man looking. He had a way of seeing it though, or else why would Rozu not say anything?

****

“Every time I come back, you’re only more pathetic than before,” Aderah spat down the grate.

Rozu didn’t bother reacting. It wouldn’t do him any good. It had never done him any good.

“You were hallowed for a reason, boy. Use your powers to protect our people. Bring glory to Ravenishtan, not undermine it!” He kicked the metallic grate, sending a ringing down the hole.

“And now look at you. Lower than a peasant in a city. Why don’t you do something?” Aderah asked him.

No movement again.

“Move, talk, shout at me if you want, but do something, Katar!” he ordered him.

But again, why? He didn’t take orders from the man any longer. Aderah had been part of the reason he was here in the first place. Rozu knew he must’ve been the one making the noises driving him mad. Trying to break him slowly.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way, boy,” Aderah finally left. And Rozu went to the next line in his tally.

****

Dero. Dero had done this. What was he doing right now? Eating a meal, lecturing some other poor fool on his personal brand of philosophy? Or was he being a hypocrite, killing others on the battlefield and yet, letting Rozu live somehow.

It was a joke, and the whole of the world was in on it. They thought Rozu a laughingstock, each side taking turns bashing him down further and further. Even from his earliest days, it’d been like this.

Surviving on the street off scraps, joining the army to fight in wars, barely scraping by. Only now, the wounds never stayed on his skin. They’d leave as soon as he’d find the bewl to remove them. Dero, he knew this too, and that’s why he was taunting him.

It almost gave Rozu the motivation to break out. Find and hunt down the man. But the weight on his body was too vast, and he cared little.

****

“When I become a Bladeborn, I want to wear the coolest clothes! I’ll scare the life out of those Phasgorians when I come flying in!” Fezashi gloated to Rozu. He was lying near the grate, his head propped up against a stone.

“Do you think I look more like an Afterburner or a Devourer? Oh, or mayb-”

“You’re a disappointment,” Rozu replied. The words themselves were muted, carried only on winds that passed through his cell.

“W-what?”

“Bladeborn aren’t forged, kid. They’re born. You’re not a Bladeborn. And you won’t ever be one,” Rozu told him.

He hoped it would send the boy away. Let Rozu finally rest in quiet. But instead, Fezashi stood on up shaky legs, looking down at Rozu with a glare.

“Y-you’re wrong. I’ll definitely earn a power!” he said with a cracking voice.

“How?” Rozu asked.

“If I pick a good Form, m-maybe-”

“Maybe nothing will happen. If someone tells you about hallowmancy, you should be able to use it. If you have it. And you don’t. Ever try to push bewl through your body?” Rozu asked him mockingly.

“Of course not. It wouldn’t work because you’re unhallowed.”

“But…. But why?” the kid asked.

“It’s not in your blood, simple as that. Give up on whatever stupid dream you have and go away,” Rozu reprimanded him. Fezashi clutched his hands instead, shaking them.

“You’re wrong! You don’t know anything!”

“Don’t I? I could check right here, right now. Bring me your blood. If you’re a hallowmancer, I’d be able to use your hallowmancy to get out of here, wouldn’t I?” Rozu offered, even if he hated the option. Blood changed the mind, and it changed it far too much for his liking.

He held out an expectant hand. Fezashi extended his own downwards, only to turn tail and run the next moment.

Rozu sat back in his room, satisfied. Fersh should thank him, he’d finally quelled his son’s stupid fantasies. And his reward was the peace and quiet he’d been craving for weeks.

Only it never came. Quiet, yes, as the voices outside had receded, but no peace to go along with it. Only the notion that something was wrong. Rozu opened his eyes one last time to stare at the glistening moon, doomed to never find it.

Another scratch on the wall.