Two things left to do before leaving to meet with the Dragon Puppets.

Adam wasn’t sure if he trusted Solara or if he trusted his paintings – but either way, the result was the same: he’d confirmed her support. She was, for the moment, extremely unlikely to betray him. It was a solid piece of information to base future decisions on.

However, Solara’s support wasn’t the only factor that mattered. Even if she was on board with everything, her father was still the Lord of Gama, at least for now.

Time to see where he stands. That night, after seeing Solara to her chambers – and brushing off the occasional servant who wondered why she seemed out of sorts – Adam set off in search of Lord Vasco.

Unsurprisingly, he found him atop the secluded tower where Aspreay’s soulless husk had been stored. In the brief time they’d spent since arriving from Gama, the lord seemed to be there more often than not, only leaving to eat and spend time with his daughter.

“You intend to leave tomorrow night?” Vasco asked.

“If not sooner. Our reports say that the Hangman has started making preparations to ride down here.” If their last raven was to be believed, the man was traveling with a luxurious caravan, causing unnecessary but well-appreciated delays. Odd choice for someone with such a time-sensitive job. “You’ll return to Gama soon?”

“As soon as I meet with the Hangman on your behalf.” Vasco sighed. “Hangmen are terrible business. If you ask me, when all is right in the world, you should never see one outside the capital. But even they aren’t insane. So long as they have the word of someone who hasn’t officially sided with you, they won’t run rampant. They’ll wait until you return before bringing down hellfire, at least.”

“Thank you,” Adam said, sincerely. “That makes things much easier for me.”

“Lord Adam, if there’s one thing I have learned with age...it’s that there are some debts in life that can never be fully repaid.” He didn’t turn to look at Adam, his gaze permanently fixated on Aspreay’s unconscious body. “My debt to you for saving my daughter’s life is one such example.” He breathed out a long, deep sigh. “My debt to the elves for not stopping my father is another.”

Adam considered how to respond. “It’s not my place to forgive you or absolve your sins,” he said, honestly.

“I know.” Vasco let out a laugh that was laced with decades of regret.. “But that is why...” He hesitated. “My daughter and I spoke. She never asked for much, you know? You’d think someone in her position would want the world, to be so spoiled that they’d forget the atrocities they lived through. Not her, though. She only ever asked me for one thing. And even if I could give it to her, it still wouldn’t be enough to apologize for what I couldn’t stop back then.”

He didn’t need to say it aloud. They both knew what Solara wanted – the Emperor’s head on a plate.

“So I give my blessing for her to accompany you on this trip,” Vasco continued. “And if her desires align with yours, then so do Gama’s.”

You’re willing to put your city in danger for your daughter’s sake, Adam thought, but didn’t say. He wanted to admonish Vasco for that, yet he also knew that the man’s reckless love worked in Penumbria’s benefit. And most of all...Adam couldn’t say for sure that he would’ve acted any differently. What would I do if I were in his shoes?

After a brief silence, Adam nodded. “Again, thank you. Is there anything you wish for before I leave?”

“Only that my daughter returns alive.” Vasco loudly harrumphed, a sudden question coming to him. “In truth, there is one thing I’d like to know.”

“Name it.”

“Can you return souls that you have stolen?”

That wasn’t the question Adam had expected, and it also wasn’t one he had a perfect answer for.

When he gave away the Stained Flames, he also gave Belmordo the curse that came with it. At the time it seemed like a decent bet – Solara was given the Talent together with the curse, so the two were likely linked in some way. He didn’t know if it applied to other Talents. Would he give away Aspreay’s soul if he needed it?

Maybe.

But more importantly...

“Are you suggesting that Aspreay should get his soul back?” Adam couldn’t keep the cutting sharpness out of his words. Nor did he want to. “I already have enough problems in my city.”

“So you do. I understand.” Vasco leaned over and brushed the hair off Aspreays’ face. “It is just as I said earlier. Some debts can never be fully repaid. Often I wonder...had I not been such a coward, had I admitted it all to him...would he have turned out like this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Adam flatly stated. “Everyone has reasons for acting the way they do – for doing what they do. If that was enough of an excuse, then no one would ever have to bear responsibility for anything. Aspreay’s sins are his own, and you can’t absolve him of them.”

“Agreed,” Vasco acknowledged, letting out a low, bitter chuckle. “His sins are his own...as are mine. If only you could take away our crimes with that brush of yours, but unfortunately, the world is not so simple or forgiving. I failed Aspreay, and that truth shall remain a black mark on my soul for the rest of my days.”

A response leapt to Adam’s throat. Look, it’s his fault, and he’s a prick whose mistakes killed people. In the end, though, he couldn’t say it. He would never forgive Aspreay, that much he was certain of – but Adam understood Vasco’s regrets.

Because sometimes, he wondered if he was to blame for Eric.

“I don’t know if I can restore Aspreay’s soul,” Adam honestly said. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

Vasco nodded with an air of somber finality. “Aye. I understand.”

--

Just one thing left to do before leaving. He’d saved the ‘best’ for last.

I have to speak with Tenver.

It would be tricky. The knight was still acting secretive about his way to get to the Puppet Mines, pushing for Adam to follow along without inquiring too closely. Although if Solara’s guess was correct – which Adam felt decently confident in – then they already knew what his big plan was. Tenver’s contact likely had access to an airship that could dive underwater, allowing them to travel directly to the Mines.

There just weren’t many other options.

Which made it even more difficult to understand the man’s behavior. Why would he be so cagey about something that benefited everyone involved? Adam thought back to their first meeting, when the knight saved him from Esteban. He thought about his six months of painting portraits for Aspreay, when Tenver’s company was the only thing keeping him sane. And finally, he thought about every murder Tenver had committed since Aspreay’s fall.

When put all together, it just didn’t add up. Like a puzzle with ill-fitting pieces. Your actions are borderline insane, and you don’t seem to care who you hurt or push away...but you didn’t used to be this way. What changed? And when?

And would he explain if asked? Speaking with him was easy enough, but getting anything useful out of him? Now that was something else altogether.

Still, Adam had to try.

“I presume this meeting is about the secret route I mentioned?” Tenver asked, as he joined Adam on the balcony. “I’ll repeat what I’ve said before – it is imperative that people remain unaware of the specifics. I cannot divulge more than that too soon.”

He doesn’t know that I know. Adam could’ve laid his cards on the table right then, but doing so would have defeated the purpose. He wasn’t attempting to figure out Tenver’s game plan; he was attempting to figure out Tenver, the person.

So instead, he merely shook his head. “You do know I could have you executed, right?”

“Aye, you can. But you won’t.” Tenver drew a deep breath and looked up at the boundless night sky. “Why didn’t you summon me to our special meeting quarters? I went through so much trouble to refurbish the damned place. If this is about our travel plans, fear not – I’ve already arranged them.”

“It’s not about the travel plans. Not exactly, anyway. As for why we’re here rather than my old cell?” Adam gestured at the star-filled skies above. “It’s a nice night out. Felt like a waste to stay indoors. Besides; I can’t say I have too many fond memories about the time I spent in that room.”

And Tenver didn’t need to see the damage Solara caused to the room when the Ghost briefly took over her body.

“Does that mean you have some fond memories from there?” Tenver’s question was casual, but the way he suddenly aimed his gaze at Adam made the words sound sharp.

“You know I do,” Adam sighed. His painting-a-day death march had been a nightmare, but the few nights he was ahead of schedule and managed to laugh about life with Tenver had been...nice. Things were different now, though. “If I thought you were actually going to tell me something important, I’d have gone there. Less chance of being overheard and all. But I doubt you’re gonna tell me anything I want to know.”

“Then...why did you summon me here, Adam?”

Stolen story; please report.

“Because I just want you to know that I don’t buy your bullshit,” Adam said, simply. “Keep your secrets if you want, keep up your act if you must, but most of all, keep in mind that your act doesn’t work on me. We spent six months talking nearly every day – I don’t know you that well, but I know you better than that, at least.”

At first there was silence. Then, a loud laughter began echoing throughout the night. Tenver’s smile was one of undisguised mirth, as if he’d been told a joke he simply couldn’t get enough of. “If you’re going to accuse me of some sort of farce, I’d appreciate it if you'd narrow it down first.”

Adam gestured with two fingers down the balcony, toward the pikes whereupon the head of Aspreay’s former courtiers stood. “You talk as if murder doesn’t bother you. Like you’re almost happy to do it. And to be completely honest, it doesn’t really track with the person I’ve known for the last couple months.”

Tenver nodded slowly. “People are often hard to understand. You can’t know what they’re thinking just based on their actions and words. At best, you end up with a general idea of who they are. I’ve always been like this, Adam.”

Don’t I know it, Adam thought bitterly. “Like I said, I don’t buy it. Besides...you made a critical mistake.”

“Truly?” Tenver asked, smiling. “Then please, go on, my lord.”

“You knew more about Solara than you let on.” Adam was certain that he’d neglected to mention the details of her Talent when catching Tenver up on the Gama trip. He was also certain that, in the past, Tenver had stated he barely knew anything of Solara at all. “At no point did you tell me she was an elf.”

Tenver’s expression tightened. “And? It seemed of little importance at the time. I assumed you’d have known about it already.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re the only one who knows exactly how bad my memory is. Instead, you made a point to send me off with a vaguely disparaging comment about elves.”

‘Vasco is the Butcher of Greenisle,” Tenver had muttered back then. “I care not to believe every complaint that came from Lord Aspreay, but that much is known to everyone. A man like that ought to be in the gallows, not in our ranks. Even the elves didn’t deserve that.’

“You went out of your way to add ‘even the elves.’ It wasn’t bad enough for me to question at the time, but it feels odd in hindsight after learning the full story from Solara. And earlier, you didn’t deny her accusations that you didn’t like elves very much.”

“That accusation would hardly make me unique. Have you seen how people look at Lady Solara, despite her being of nobler rank than them? Elves are hardly popular around here. Their kin consorted with dragons. My attitude may be despicable, but it is quite normal, I assure you.”

Except that Tenver’s father was notably kind to elves. Adam considered bringing up that point here, but decided to hold onto the card for now. Instead, he merely shook his head. “If only that were true. Do you know what I think, Tenver? I think you’ve been trying to make yourself unlikable.”

The knight frowned. “What benefit would having my lord mislike me bring? I’ve killed too many of Aspreay’s courtiers. My fate is tied to yours...and every murder was necessary.”

“Oh, I believe that the executions were necessary. But your theatrics, the smile you wear on your face, refusing to inform me of the travel route you’re planning...it all just seems like a bit much.”

The Painted World was a harsh place where death was dealt swiftly and quickly. Adam knew that. Even by their standards, however, Tenver came across as unnerving. It was more than his willingness to kill; it was the way he did it. They’d known each other for six months, and while that wasn’t the longest of times, it was long enough for him to question Tenver’s sudden behavioral change.

“In fact,” Adam continued. “If I account for how you hid information on Solara, my best guess is that you knew I wouldn’t give a shit she was an elf, but that I would think back to what you said and then draw vague conclusions about you hating elves.”

“Again, why would I do all of that?”

“Who knows?” Adam shrugged. “I can think of a few reasons. The main one though...” He drew a deep breath. While it was important to let Tenver know he wasn’t being fooled by his bullshit, Adam didn’t want to volunteer information about himself. Was it reckless to say it outright?

Maybe. But there’s no way Tenver didn’t notice it by now...and if he hasn’t, then he’s too dumb to make use of this info.

“The main one,” Adam repeated, “is self-defense.”

He paused meaningfully and watched Tenver’s reaction. At first, the knight kept his face blank, their pause stretching on into silence. A swirling breeze swept through the balcony. Finally, Tenver sighed, holding up both arms in resignation. “Can’t get much past you, can I?” He laughed. “And just what do you think I’m doing, precisely?”

“You’re not getting any free info out of me. Be direct about what you know.”

“I know very little,” Tenver began, hesitantly. “But I can still guess your ability’s requirements. I was with you for a long time – I saw what captured your interest back then.”

There was no need to elaborate further, especially not if someone happened to be listening in. Tenver had watched Adam research everything he could about Aspreay, and had even looked into a few matters for him. Not to mention he was present when Adam captured the fallen lord’s soul.

I was sleep-deprived and practically delirious back then, he recalled, but I still said too much. There was no need to lecture Aspreay to his face before capturing his soul – I just had to show him the painting. As fun as it was, that display of showmanship had become a vital clue for Tenver to extrapolate from.

The results were apparent. Tenver knew how Adam’s skill functioned, and he was altering his behavior the same way a knight clad themselves in armor, purposefully acting odd to ensure that Adam never got an accurate read on him.

To protect his soul and Talent from being stolen.

When Adam spoke next, it was in a measured, quiet voice. “I thought you mentioned trusting me."

“And I do!” Tenver grinned. “But do you recall what you told me back then?”

Adam needed a moment, then cursed the memory when it came to him.

“I won’t prod into your past, but if one thing is clear, it’s that you have good reason for not wanting to put your faith in someone so easily. You don’t trust me, do you?”

“No.” Adam’s answer came promptly. He didn’t regret saying it, although he certainly felt guilty upon seeing a flash of hurt pass over Tenver’s face.

“Adam, if you look me in the eye right now and say you trust me, I will tell you everything you want. My plans, my secrets...” Tenver gestured at the pikes down the balcony. “And if you wish, how I truly feel about those executions. But if not, you can hardly expect me to open my heart when doing so means dropping my shield. Even if I trust you, Adam, I can still think you fallible enough to make a mistake that, for me, would be lethal.”

You did open your heart to me before, Adam thought. Back when I was just a prisoner and you were a guard. Was that all bullshit too? Or was he honest back then because he didn’t have any reason to be afraid of Adam? It was hard to tell.

Either way, this was easily fixable. All he had to do was lie and say he trusted him. Then Tenver would tell him everything: his past, his plans, what he was hiding.

It would only take three short words.

“I’m sorry,” Adam muttered. “I can’t. A part of me wishes I could. It keeps whispering that I’ve known you for half a year, and that you were the first person to treat me well since...since I can remember. But I can’t.”

“No. Thank you, Adam.” Tenver closed his eyes and let out a low laugh. Then, with a casual gait, he started to walk away. “The fact that you didn’t lie to me just now means you want to trust me. Perhaps you will, one day.”

His footsteps grew distant. Adam continued to watch the night sky, the stars urging him to not let things end there. When he heard the door swing open, he forced himself to say, “Hey, Tenver?”

There was a delay before the response came. “Yeah?”

“I don’t trust you right now,” Adam admitted. “And we’re both keeping a lot of secrets from each other.” How was he ever supposed to tell someone he was from another world? “Just so you know, though...that’s not the reason I’m bringing you to see the Puppets with me. Even if I didn’t need your ‘secret way’ into the Puppet Mines, I’d still want to take you with me.”

“Oh? If not for that, then for what reason?”

“I need someone to drink with me,” Adam muttered. His voice was nearly a whisper, and a sudden gust of wind threatened to drown out his words. “I can’t trust people easily. I’m sorry. But you’re still my friend.”

The wind produced a low, echoing melody across the balcony.

“Then I’ll make sure to bring some good alcohol,” Tenver joyfully replied, closing the door behind him.