Derek ran up the stairs and out the door, and I followed him out into the sunlight. The ringing of the bells was coming from the Watchtower of the White, a tall spire at the edge of the Citadel of Sot, where the reclusive Rhyns watched in eternal vigil, wearing his glasses of enchanted alabaster, which kept him forever calm, alert, and awake.

Rhyns alone had seen the chaos that Thermock wrought, and later, the chiefs of the citadel would call on him to testify, and Rhyns, who was bound to stay at his post, would summon the court to the Watchtower of the White, where proceedings would be held while he continued to stand vigil, unblinking, seeing all, from the city center to the tiniest ocean waves on the furthest point of the horizon.

Thermock slew three gods. She slaughtered Ting, he who possessed minor powers of physical attraction; she murdered Farranthis, she of the iron will; and she rent Thu, she of the unbreakable carapace. Thermock burgled all of their aspects, growing stronger with each one.

She did it in broad daylight. Each of the three gods–Ting, Farranthis, and Thu–were left standing in the middle of the town square in the Citadel of Sot, their arms dangling down at their sides as if the minds which guided them were only husks. The three gods, emptied of their essence, raised their heads to the sky. All together, they let out the most mournful howl. They have never been the same since that day.

Soon I was in the courtyard, dragging the police along behind me. Yawthew, the chief of police, himself a pachyderm, heard my story and placed me under arrest.

“Of course,” I said, “what else should I have expected?” And my bitterness grew.

Yawthew gathered a posse. They scoured the Citadel of Sot for Thermock, but she was nowhere to be found. My trial was held in Rhyn’s Watchtower of the White, and I was found guilty by a jury of demigods of a long list of crimes. Derek tried to stop them, but he was unsuccessful. I was placed on death row. I was broken now, they said. Ruined. Unfixable.

It was shortly after my last meal that Thermock finally visited me in my cell.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Have you come to gloat?” I said.

~~~

During the trial, the judge had decreed that I was to be put to death for endangering everyone on the island with my reckless behavior. I had released Thermock, and she had, for all intents and purposes, killed three demigods.

I was laying on my bed on death row now. I knew what I did was wrong, and I was ready to die for what I did. Then, Thermock appeared in front of me.

“Have you come to gloat?” I said.

“Gloat?” she said. “I don’t need to gloat. I know what I took from you, and I feel satisfied with my prize.”

“My naivete,” I said. “It is gone, and I would rather die than live on like this.”

“Like what?” said Thermock.

“I just feel so bitter,” I said. “Everything feels old and pointless. I hate it. I hate being alive. What’s the point of it all?”

I could see by the look in her eyes that Thermock was experiencing quite the opposite. “Let me help you,” she said, reaching out.

“You?” I said. “You can help me by letting me die.”

“No,” said Thermock, “I am going to help you escape.”

“No!” I screamed. Suddenly, blind rage overwhelmed me. I swung my mighty fist at Thermock, but she dispersed into a swarm of bees, and my hand struck the cell wall, breaking the blocks there. Sunlight shone through the hole in the wall. The sea rolled and lapped against the beach. My prison was on the shore.

Thermock bid me go. I tried to follow her across the ocean, but I could not find her. I ran to Derek’s place. The guards were after me by then. I found him in the basement. I double locked the door behind me.

“Derek,” I said, “She has escaped across the sea. Please, help me to track Thermock.”

My former master shoved a book of magick tracking in my face. “Go,” he said. “Take the book and begone. I don’t owe you anything anymore.”

I ran back up the stairs. I ran through town and hid out until night, when I commandeered a ship and rowed across the sea, book in hand, in search of Thermock.

I would recapture my naivete.