"Drink this."

The dim light stones shined across the cold stone walls of the dungeon as Charles strained to open his weary old eyes. His gaze settled on the woman before him, a figure who had been tormenting him for who knows how long now. Still, he had finally received a break with Micah's brother Luca having returned. His eyes fell on a blue potion held out before him.

He would have happily drunk it if it were poison, but that wasn't it.

"A healing potion?" he asked, a little confused.

It wasn't the cheap kind either. It couldn't regrow lost limbs or teeth but was potent enough to accelerate the body's natural healing processes. Within half an hour of drinking it, wounds would mend, bruises would fade, and pain would subside. Give it a full hour, and even broken ribs would repair themselves.

Why would they use something so expensive on me?

The woman didn't bother letting him talk further and tipped the blue potion into his mouth. The cool liquid poured in, and a surge of warmth spread across his skin.

Click.

"Here's a change of clothes and basin to wash up," another man entered the dungeon. Charles recognized him by his raspy voice alone as the right-hand man to Micah. "Remove anything that's bloodied and put these on him."

A clatter of footsteps echoed within the cold chamber.

"You heard him; get your dirty clothes off and change into these," the woman ordered. "That potion should have mended your fingers enough to manage this yourself."

Following her instructions, Charles's hands worked to undo the buttons and clasps of his tattered attire. The bloodied rags fell to the cold stone floor, revealing his old, wrinkled, and battered form.

"Wash up before changing. Your skin is healing, but it still has dried blood on it," the woman thrust the wash basin toward him.

He accepted it gratefully. Charles scooped up the water and ran it over his face—the cool water providing a soothing balm against the aches that had wracked his body.

"Your body as well," the raspy-voiced hooded man said and handed him a rough towel. "There shouldn't be any trace of your ordeal remaining."

"What is all this?" Charles asked.

"Luca wishes to see you. Micah requested your presence be made in a more presentable state for his brother," the raspy-voiced man explained.

"Ah." Charles felt a wave of happiness wash over him, a spark of unexpected hope igniting within the depths of his weariness.

The reality of his situation had long settled upon Charles; he had accepted his fate, his resolve strong enough to sacrifice himself for a cause larger than his own life. Yet, suddenly an unexpected thread of hope for survival appeared before him.

Luca knows I'm down here and wishes to see me.

Micah, a figure marked by cold calculation and unyielding ambition, embodied the threat the Guardians of Luminal aimed to prevent. Yet, amidst Micah's iron grip on power and ruthless nature, one force held sway: Luca. A curious enigma, Luca possessed the ability to dispel logic and reason, making his elder brother's calculated nature falter. For whatever reason, no matter how ridiculous Luca's requests were, Micah would entertain all of his younger brothers' demands.

If Luca wished it, Charles suspected Micah would burn down the whole continent without a second thought.

Not that that would ever occur.

Unlike the rest of his family, Luca was not one of the targets of the Guardians of Luminal. Charles had seen the boy grow up, so he knew better than most that Luca posed no threat to the world's order. He was too foolish to be a threat. And at his core, he was a kind and innocent young man. While Luca's unconventional pranks may have been distasteful, even they originated from a place of goodness, a misguided attempt to force his parents back home and spend more time with the rest of the children.

Maybe if he had grown up in a regular household, instead of the descendants of Arankagul, he would have had more normal methods of trying to bring his family together.

"Finish cleaning him up. I'll return with Luca in half an hour," the hooded man told the woman.

Charles smiled.

In half an hour, my savior will arrive. I just need to convince Luca to let me go. If I succeed, my freedom is guaranteed. After all, Micah will bend to his brother's command.

***

Click.

After much anticipation, approaching footsteps reverberated across the floor behind Charles.

"He looks better than I expected, but I can still smell the blood," Luca's voice sounded as he moved around Charles.

Charles lifted his gaze, fixing it upon the young man who stood slightly to his right. Luca had a handkerchief held up to his scrunched-up nose.

The poor boy, sensitive even to the mere smell of blood.

"I apologize; we didn't consider the lingering odor," the hooded man replied.

"It's fine; I'll have to get used to it," Luca replied. Then, in a lower tone, almost as if speaking to himself, he muttered, "It's not like I plan on enduring another blow to my nose and losing my sense of smell."

The woman in the room placed a chair for Luca, situating it across from Charles.

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"Can you bring in a table and the tea?" Luca asked of her. "Remlend has it on a tray, but I know he's not allowed here."

"Very well," she replied. Promptly, she positioned a sizeable wooden box between them, serving as an improvised table. She returned with the tea tray, carefully placing it atop the wooden crate.

"You can go now," Luca told her. "I wish to speak with him alone."

"While she may leave, I must remain," the hooded man interjected. "Master Micah issued a specific directive for me to ensure your safety."

"Ah, my safety, yes," Luca smiled. He appeared amused.

Charles mirrored the smile.

He doesn't believe that I would hurt him. That is good.

Luca stowed away his handkerchief and poured the tea from a white ceramic pot into a delicate teacup. An aroma of flowers filled the air. But by Luca's own expression, he clearly didn't care for the scent of the tea himself. Or perhaps the blood and grime of the room were interfering with his sense of smell.

"Please have some," Luca motioned to the cup before Charles. "It's Meek Golden Tea from the Barakian Empire. It's supposed to have rejuvenating properties."

Dim lighting cast a shadowy ambiance within the chamber, but the tea's hue shimmered with a hint of gold.

"Young master Luca, it's not poisoned, is it?" Charles asked but obediently brought it to his lips.

It wasn't like he cared whether he would live or die. He knew his spirit would be rewarded in the afterlife for helping his brethren fight against world destruction.

Luca chuckled, seemingly humored by the idea. "Right now, I'm interested in just talking."

Charles sipped his tea, enjoying his first taste of something other than his own blood or the healing potion.

He realized he was pretty dehydrated as he finished the cup almost immediately. And Luca was quick to pour him another cup.

"What happened, Charles?" he asked him. Luca's expression appeared sad.

Charles was quick to gulp his tea to hide his smile.

Good. He's clearly bothered by my circumstances.

He quickly modified his expression to match Luca's. "Young master, I'm afraid there's been a terrible misunderstanding. I've been framed."

"Framed?" Luca frowned.

"Yes. Please, young master Luca. I've served the Frey family for over two decades. I've helped your father run the business and watched you and your siblings grow up. You must believe me—I'm currently being set up."

Luca's expression darkened.

"Yes, you've served the family for over two decades," he said.

"Indeed—ah, thank you," Charles accepted his third cup of tea.

Now that his tongue had been wetted, his need to quench his thirst was fully realized.

Besides, this is the only time I expect to be shown such kindness. I must make the most of it.

"What of the Guardians of Luminal?" Luca asked. "What's the connection there?"

"None at all!" Charles lied. "I'm not even sure who they are even."

His eyes glanced at the hooded man standing against the wall.

He wasn't too worried about Luca but had to be careful about revealing any information around that man. Even his tone of voice had to be considered when replying to Luca.

I still can't understand how that man figured out I was part of the Guardians of Luminal.

"I swear, I'm telling the truth," Charles pleaded. "I've even been subjected to a truth serum, and I'm more than willing to undergo another session."

Luca smiled and nodded his head. "There's no need for truth serums."

"You believe me?" Charles brightened.

"No." Luca stood up from his chair and slipped on a pair of black gloves. "But I have something better in mind on how to confirm the truth."

Charles observed with confusion as Luca walked over to the work counters and unfolded one of the leather-bound tool kits.

"Seymour, could you restrain his arms again?" Luca asked without turning around. "Tea time is over."

"Of course." The hooded man moved toward Charles and swiftly restrained his arms and hands into his chair with rune-embedded straps.

Despite his sickly appearance, Seymour's grip was that of a young man in his prime.

Luca's fingers tapped over the metallic tools, their delicate clinking filling the room before he settled on a polished, curved scalpel.

"Young master Luca, what are you doing?" Charles inquired in disbelief.

This must be one of his peculiar pranks, is all.

"Getting to the truth," Luca turned around and walked back toward him.

The scalpel swayed between Luca's fingers, displaying dexterity and familiarity.

"You're not implying... you're going to torture me?" Charles joked. He certainly hoped this to be a joke, just one of Luca's classic ill-timed and ill-informed jokes.

Luca didn't smile back and turned his attention to Seymour.

"This was why I really hoped to be alone with him," Luca said, drawing a black silk mask from his pocket and covering his mouth and nose. "So if you could please, try to spare the details you relay to my brother about what I'm about to do."

A nauseating scent of peppermint wafted from the black cloth covering Luca's face, and a chill coursed down Charles's spine.

He's serious.

The expression on Luca's face was not one of a young and naive man but something darker, akin to the look the other woman had on her face as she worked him.

"But why did you heal me, then?" Charles asked as Luca neared him.

Luca's golden eyes blinked. The rest of his face was covered by the peppermint-scented mask.

"I can't stand the smell of blood," he replied. "And I hate working messes. I needed a clean, fresh slate, is all."

His right hand grabbed Charles by the forehead and pulled his head back.

"Try not to move," Luca instructed. "I’m not as strong as I'd like, so I might miss if you squirm around."

I was mistaken about him.

As the scalpel drew nearer to his right eye, Charles instinctively averted his gaze. There wasn't the slightest hesitation in Luca's hand movement.

He's done this before.

"Seymour, actually, would you mind? Could you hold his head in place?" Luca moved away and motioned for the hooded man to come over.

"Certainly," the raspy voice sounded, and Charles felt his head forced to stay still.

"You're not going to inquire anything from him first?" Seymour asked.

"No, I'll leave the question asking to you and Micah. He'll be unable to answer the questions I have anyhow," Luca replied in a monotone voice. "I'll just prep him, is all."

Charles gazed at Luca with a new set of eyes.

He was never to be my savior. He was the most twisted one in his family this whole time, and I never even realized it. I must alert the Guardians of Luminal one way or another.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Knock. Knock.

"Enter," Micah called out.

"Here's the cure for Copper Euphoria." Selena strode through the room and presented it to Micah. "I found some sold on the other end of the capital."

Jarvis accepted the vial instead.

"What do you think?" Micah asked his brother, who sat in the armchair across from him.

Jarvis held the vial to the office window's light, observing the murky liquid within.

"It's been hastily prepared and with low-quality ingredients. I expect they'd be side effects if it's taken," Jarvis remarked, extending the vial to Micah. "I could have made a much better one if given a few days, but this will technically serve as the cure."

"It's for Charles," Micah said.

Jarvis frowned and crossed his arms.

"Is Charles suffering from Copper Euphoria? He didn't seem to be," Jarvis said. "And why would you even care if that swine were?"

Micah shrugged.

"I don't, but Luca said to give this to him after we get all the information needed out of him," Micah said.

Charles' betrayal was a pretty significant blow to him.

Micah could still picture the complete and utter shock on Luca's face when Micah relayed to him what was uncovered about Charles. He hoped that Luca's chat with Charles could provide his brother some measure of closure.

"Enter," Micah beckoned.

"Master Micah," Seymour appeared at the threshold.

"Oh? Has Luca finished his conversation with Charles already?" Micah checked the time, surprised that less than an hour had gone by.

"...I wouldn't exactly characterize it as a conversation," Seymour replied.

"I suppose that's to be expected. Charles wasn't much for talking anyhow." Micah stood up from his desk. "Have Veronica return in since she's only worked him a few hours. Or rather, let's bring that Kleave punk that you recommended."

The more time passed, the more concerning it became what information Charles had passed to the cult.

"Master Micah, that… won't be necessary. Charles is talking. But on one condition: that your brother Luca be removed from his presence."