Sal walked down a hallway, death in his eyes.
How could this have happened? I thought I had this under control!
It was true, he could send messages to his past self. Dual to that, he received messages from the future. The dangers of this had revealed themselves when he was young.
Despite the years, he remembered the time when it first emerged clearly. He, then a child prince, had tried explaining it to his nursemaid Bel. “It’s like my head is full of gibberish,” young Sal complained. “Lately half my thoughts don’t make sense, like they’re coming from a stranger.”
She knew she didn’t fully understand, it seemed like an ability but not one she’d ever heard of. Naturally, she summoned a royal proctor to figure out what was happening.
“Gibberish?” the proctor asked, stroking his beard. “Could you tell me what sort of things these thoughts are saying?”
“‘6000’, ‘tasty’,” the prince replied, “‘why do I have to do that?’, stuff like that. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Does it ever make sense?”
“Well… yesterday I had a thought that said ‘long beard’. It was confusing, but today I met you and you’ve got a long beard.”
The proctor’s eyes widened. “That… that I do… It’s been a pleasure speaking to you, young highness. I will return shortly with a hypnotist.”
While the proctor was gone, a worried Sal turned to the nursemaid. “Is there something wrong with me?”
Truly she didn’t know. “Something like this happens to a lot of us, dear. I think you may be able to do something no one else can. Those men just have to help you control it.”
The emperor grimaced at the memory. Control! Such an ugly word! And of all the people to say it… He tried to rid the thought from his mind before stopping himself. No! I must not forget what brought me here! I’m sorry, Bel, but you were right.
The proctor and the hypnotist returned to the young prince before too long. Sal was put into a trance.
“Now, say anything that comes to mind,” the hypnotist said.
“What’s he doing?” the nursemaid asked.
“He’s listening for card names,” the proctor answered. “Tomorrow we’ll show him four cards and if the cards match, then we’ll know he has the ability of an oracle!”
The hypnotist recorded the child’s mutterings. At one point a tear dripped down the prince’s cheek, but the hypnotist paid it no attention.
When he was taken out of the trance, Sal ran and hugged the nursemaid.
“What’s wrong, young master?”
“I… I don’t know. I’m scared.”
The proctor reappeared the next morning with a deck of cards. He and Bel took turns shuffling, and then had Sal cut the deck to ensure it was truly random.
“I want you to take four cards from the top without showing me. Look at them, and focus on them for the next few hours. I will return in the evening, show them to me when I do.”
The prince did as he was told, running the names of the cards through his head over and over again. Other thoughts intruded into his mind, but he tried to ignore them in favor of the cards. He tried to hide a growing sense of dread, but his nursemaid saw through it.
True to his word, the proctor returned carrying a slip of paper. As he looked from the cards to the slip and back, a grin spread onto his face.
“My boy, this is incredible. You have the power of prophecy!”
“What… what does that mean?”
“It means those gibberish thoughts of yours are real! They come from the future and they’re true!”
Fucking bastard, emperor Sal thought. Didn’t know what he was saying. I’m glad I had him put to death.
The true nature of his ability had reared its ugly head later. He met with the proctor and the hypnotist after that, working to control the future messages. In time, he learned how not to send them and consequently began receiving fewer than the constant barrage he’d been getting.
The messages became clearer too, though not always in useful ways. One day he received an explicit instruction: “Don’t eat the bread!” When dinner rolled around, a piece of bread was placed in front of him. He turned to the servant to say “I don’t want this,” but they were gone by the time he opened his mouth.
During their sessions, the proctor had told him that the messages could come from tomorrow, or next week, or minute, or whenever, so Sal figured that maybe the message was talking about some other bread. He ate his meal, went to bed, and the next morning he woke up with a heavy fever. From under the weight of illness, he sent a message back to warn himself. But then he realized that he’d already received it.
“Why didn’t it work?” he deliriously asked Bel, who was worrying beside his bed.
That experience shocked a lesson into him: trust the messages.
Later, the palace gardener came down with a similar illness, but more severe. Bel was a friend of hers, so she filled in for the gardener’s absence. Sal tagged along with his nursemaid and watched her work.
“I actually started out doing this kind of thing,” she said, trimming a hedge. “But then some of the inside staff noticed me and I was promoted to cleaner.”
“You’re not a cleaner now,” the child said.
“Yes, because when you were born they let me take care of you.” She patted Sal on the head.
In time, the day grew hot and the work grew harder. Bel wiped the sweat from her forehead and continued on.
“I want to help you,” said the prince.
“No, dear, this kind of work is not fit for the son of a king.”
“But I wanna!”
Bel sighed. “Fine. See those low plants over there? Those are weeds, pull them up and bring them here.”
Enthusiastic, Sal went to war on the unwanted foliage. While he worked, though, a message appeared in his head: “Bel… she had to die!” He froze at the shock of it. The message entered his mind with an intensity of emotion that he’d never felt. Gone was the enthusiasm, replaced by a fear that made him shiver.
He picked up the weeds he’d pulled and brought them to Bel.
“What, that’s it?” she chuckled. “See, I told you it wouldn’t fit. Let me come help.”
She crouched down and began pulling the remaining weeds. He tugged at her sleeve.
“Are you alright lord Sal? You look pale.”
The message hammered his mind. “She had to die!” “She had to die!”
“I… are… are you ok?” he whimpered.
“Oh, me?” again she chuckled, as though he’d said something cute. “Don’t worry about me, I may be rusty but I can still do this.”
Sal couldn’t bring himself to say any more.
The last duty the nursemaid covered was to trim a tall hedge which had been grown to match the shape of a great serpent. She squatted down to get closer to the child.
“You still want to help?”
“...yes?”
“Then hold this ladder still as I go up. With you here it will be much less likely to fall.”
Still apprehensive, Sal took hold of the ladder and Bel went up. That was when the second message came: “I had to kill her! There was no choice!”
“Hey, steady down there,” Bel said, feeling the jolt through the ladder.
Die? Kill? Bel? This wasn’t gibberish, but it also wasn’t possible. He couldn’t kill Bel, he loved her like family!
The prince looked up at his nursemaid. She was leaning into the mouth of the serpent, trimming it into shape. He gripped the ladder and tried to hold himself still.
But I have to listen to the messages! But I can’t kill Bel! But it’s going to come true! But then she’d have to die!
“There was no choice!” “There was no choice!” “There was no choice!”
The future won. The child felt empty when he pushed and worse after.
Bel landed on her head and was gone.
Even though it was only a memory, the emperor wiped a tear from his cheek. I’m sorry Bel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to control it, please forgive me.
When he ran to get help, they decided he’d called it an accident. Sal lacked the fortitude then to correct them, so the story stuck.
One didn’t need trained eyes to tell he was devastated.
Word of the accident traveled quickly. Sal’s father, the ever busy king, made time to console his son. He tried to broach the topic directly, but found avoidance to be gentler. Much of their time was spent sitting in silence, but when they did speak it was the king who opened.
“I heard you’re developing an ability,” king Salen said.
He left a moment for Sal to respond, but the child sat mute.
“I’m a little light on details, how does it work?”
Sal looked away. “...future,” he muttered.
“Pardon, son?”
“The future. I get messages in my head and they come true.”
“Oh. I’ve never heard of one like that. Say, I’ll be going into battle soon, could you tell me anything about the other side?”
At that moment, a message came and Sal repeated it without thinking, “6000 men.”
“Hmm, the scouts we sent ahead said the force was small, but that’s unexpected. It’s good news though, with an army that small they’ll surely be defeated.”
King Salen was pleased that this seemed to raise the child’s spirits. Sal was just surprised that his ability had been of use. He held onto that thought.
For days after that, Sal focused himself on that number just as he once had on the four cards. “6000 men.” “6000 men.” “6000 men.” As long as he had this he was helpful. As long as he kept thinking about this, he could avoid other things. He didn’t notice it, but as he ruminated one of these thoughts slipped into the past.
In time, Salen left for his battle. In time, Bel returned for her funeral.
Guards flanked the young prince at the cemetery. As the former nursemaid was lowered into the ground, Sal fell to his knees. He covered his face in shame as memories screamed through his mind.
Why! Why’d this have to happen? She didn’t do anything but… Bel… she had to die! The message said so! I had to kill her! There was no choice!
This time he felt the thoughts escape into a message. It was all too obvious when they were going. Bel was in the ground and he’d killed her once again.
For a moment he was frozen. He didn’t even breathe. Then, as his senses returned, he screamed and ran toward the hole. The guards caught hold of him before he joined her.
Sal was catatonic. Days passed into weeks and he wouldn’t say a word. He would eat, but only barely and never without some prompting.
In time, his father returned with news of the battle. 20000 men. They had taken measures to hide the size of their force from the scouts and Salen’s force had been caught off guard. Sal saw his father being carried in on a stretcher, alive but one arm poorer.
The message was wrong.
This was a lesson in blood: the messages couldn’t be trusted.
Sal gathered up his strength and went back into meetings with the proctor. He told him everything. The boy’s concern was clear: the messages must not be lies. The proctor picked up on another problem: the unintentional sending. But… one last thing seemed odd.
“Tell me again, why did you say there would be 6000 men.”
“I think it slipped back when I was thinking about it later.”
“You were thinking about the number 6000?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get that number?”
“Well… I was thinking about the message I’d gotten earlier.”
“The message you got which was from… thinking about that message?”
“...yes.”
The message came from nowhere. After a bit of prodding, they noticed the same was true of the one which killed Bel. Pursuing these, the proctor called in a philosopher.
Thus, a wizened old woman entered the meeting. She listened carefully, thought silently for a few minutes, scrawled some arrows on a piece of paper, and then brought them her conclusions.
“It didn’t have to be 6000. 7000 or 5000 could’ve just as well been the message. But, note that it couldn’t have been 100 or 100000. King Salen would’ve rejected an unrealistic number and you wouldn’t have wound up sending it back. The number you gave came from nowhere but it was not without constraint.”
She really was the first to truly understand, the emperor thought. Such a shame that she had to die.
“Your ability lets vile messages slip in from nowhere and create their own futures,” she continued. “As we’ve seen, they are not unconstrained, but they will need to be constrained further, to ensure truth and patch leaks as you said. The hypnotist should be able to give you trance states to restrict these things. However, I think there is utility we could extract from this. See, when you said 6000 you learned something you didn’t know before. Not that there would be that many men, of course, rather you learned that 6000 was an acceptable answer to king Salen’s question.”
She wrote something onto the piece of paper. “I’ve written a riddle here but I’m not going to show it to you. Say you had to send a message to now containing the answer to this riddle. Let’s also say you included an extra piece of information with it, just a word like ‘black’ or ‘white’. That is, the whole message would be ‘answer, black’, for instance. If ‘answer’ turns out to be correct, then the trance makes you send back ‘answer, black’ and if it’s incorrect, you send back ‘answer, white’. We already know you sent back ‘black’ so as long as the color is tied to the correctness of your answer, we’ll already know that the answer is correct. Note that it doesn’t matter which color you send, as long as switching them is tied to whether you learn the answer is correct. We’ll test this trick now, you’ll answer the riddle I’ve written here.”
“But how will I know the right answer if you don’t show me the question?”
The philosopher smiled. “It will come from nowhere.”
As planned, they brought in the hypnotist to test this. Sal was put into a trance and said “bread and wine, black”. The philosopher grinned and nodded that the answer was right, but kept the question secret, just in case. Later, after Sal sent the message, the question was finally revealed: “What did I have for breakfast today?” Without knowing the question, Sal had produced the truth. Total success.
In time, this became his renewed confidence, and even his reason for being. A trance was built into his mind that limited when he could send the messages, and then made sure they could be trusted. Further, the contradiction trick was added in, giving the young prince access to far more than just the future.
In truth, many things in life are answers to questions. Is that man stealing from me? Where did I leave my keys? How many men will I need for this battle? As long as an answer can be shown true or false, Sal could pull it from nowhere.
Not all questions are like that, the emperor thought. I still don’t know why I had to kill my father, why all this mess is necessary.
Inevitably, he reached the room he was walking to.
----------------------------------------
Gabriel, the head guard, was in his office facing three other guards. One was the man he’d put in charge of David’s confinement, the other two were the ones who had been appointed to attend David in the tower by the former.
David’s former guards swore it was an order from the prince, so they had no choice. Their superior insisted that he knew nothing about all this and that the other two would be punished severely.
“I will tell you how they will be punished!” Gabriel shouted.
The head guard heard the soft shifting of armor as guards stiffened to attention outside the door. He looked over and saw his emperor enter.
“My king, what brings you here?”
The other three turned around to look.
“Just heard who you were talking to.”
The emperor looked back at the three men. Chills went down their spines and, despite having already been under Gabriel’s fury, they began to truly fear their fates. Nobody spoke as Sal crossed the room to sit just behind Gabriel.
“You two were my brother’s guards.”
They nodded.
“Tell me, did you know each other before this assignment?”
Their superior, “Yes, they di-”
“SILENCE!”
The man looked as though he’d been stabbed.
Sal recomposed himself and focused on one of the guards. “So you knew each other. Do you two get along well?”
The emperor’s target started, “Yes, we’ve had our ups and downs but we work pre-”
“No!” the other cut him off. “I would never get along with the likes of him! I was all for keeping prince David from the Golden Circle, but this one said to just let him die!”
The two began shouting at each other as their superior looked on in horror. He had known these two friends, but now they were reduced to animals clawing at each other for survival.
Sal whispered in Gabriel’s ear, “silence them.”
“Stop your bickering!” the head guard shouted.
The two men stopped, but the animosity was clearly strong.
Sal scratched his chin. “Which one of you has the kid?”
They went pale.
“Never mind, we can talk about that later. You two, leave this room for now. We’ll discuss your punishment and then call you back.”
Obediently, the two exited with the last one looking back apprehensively before he closed the door.
Their superior was the one to break the silence. “My king, what do you intend-”
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Sal put a finger to his lips. “Shhh, listen.”
Muffled speech could be heard through the door. Before long this turned into shouting and screaming. Clear sounds of conflict were audible. Metal clashed metal, pain pulled voices from mouths. Then, silence.
“Oh my god,” the guard said.
“Come,” Sal said. “Let’s go see them.”
The trio left Gabriel’s office. One of the two was slumped against a wall next to a window, the other was nowhere to be seen.
“What happened here?” Gabriel asked one of the door guards.
“Those two men killed each other! One took a dagger from one of us and the other threw him out the window.”
They walked over and Sal looked out the window. “That he did.” It still works!
The third man knelt, “My king! Have mercy on me!”
“What? Oh, you.” He turned to Gabriel. “I’ve given my punishment, you find something fitting for this one.”
“Yes sire!” said the head guard, awed at the emperor’s display.
----------------------------------------
David sat against a wall in his cell. He was slouched at an angle, head pointed away from the morning light. His eyes were closed, but none dared wake him. Nobody wanted to cross the mad Stiletto Joe, much less the prince David ben Salen.
A cold sweat ran across his body. A look of consternation disrupted the peace of sleep. Faces from the past couple weeks drifted across his sleeping mind. Blood, blood, blood, blood. All dead and gone. He was hardly a stranger to combat, but never before had his life so revolved around the ending of life.
And then there was the face of Sal. From the outside one could’ve seen his sleeping brow furrow, his sleeping teeth grind. The one death he waded through the others to reach.
The cell gate was not so deferential to his highness. When it clanged open, David woke with a start. Within a second he was on his feet, ready to fight. Within another he relaxed at the sight of his cellmate.
The old man John tossed him some bread. “You need to eat.”
David caught the bread and pointed it at the door. “How did you leave without waking me?”
John sat against the wall opposite him. “I dunno, it’s your sleep. Did the same thing both times, you must’ve just been deeper into it when I left.”
“Maybe,” he said. He sat down and ate the bread. It didn’t last long.
The old man waited until he looked settled. Then, “so the emperor’s your brother.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re going to kill him.”
“He killed my father and so many others! And yet I still live on. His one sibling, the single challenger to the throne, the one person he was expected to kill, is spared. That lunatic’s out of control and I’ll put a stop to him, brother or not.”
John nodded. “I reckon half the folk in here would have the emperor’s head if they could. The other half… it’s some other noble, or a conspirator who told on them, or maybe they were framed, or… you know. So much death in these walls.” He shook his head. “You missed the announcement, but your next fight’s coming up.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah, everyone’s talking about it. I reckon you’re the quickest one who’s ever gotten through the circle.”
“You said they’d delay as much as they could.”
“I did, and usually they do. I guess they can’t for you. Lang got through really quick too.”
And then fought me. Or rather… was paired with me and took her own life. That was too unexpected, Sal must’ve known that would happen. “I guess I’m going to die.”
“Most fifth round-ers do. But if your speed’s a record, maybe your survival will be too.”
They sat in silence a bit as David reflected. “John, I notice you speak the same way to me now as you did to ‘Joe’.”
The old man shrugged, “Like I said, I was a chef for a noble. I’m used to y’all.”
“Which noble?”
“Why… do you ask?”
“Should my revenge succeed I’ll inherit quite a bit of power. You said you’re down here just because you cooked the wrong soup, yes? That’s too petty. I’ll swap their place with yours: you’ll take their land and they’ll take this cell.”
“Now Jo- or David, rather, that’s not-”
“Or maybe I won’t, if you’d prefer. But tell me anyway, I’d like to know who would do that to you.”
“I… I just mean to confess that it’s not quite as I said. The soup thing is an old exaggeration, it’s not quite true.”
“Oh. I suppose we’ve both stretched things somewhat.”
“Yes… David, I used to cook in the palace. I was chef for king Salen and Sal soon after. I suppose this won’t surprise you, but… fine. After the old king died I came into the new king Sal’s service. This was before he declared himself emperor, you know. Then… I was serving him soup when it happened. He was eating in his private quarters that day and I was delivering the food to him. I walked in and he was muttering something to himself. No idea what it was, but when he noticed I was there he got this look in his eyes. It was like a sad-scared or a guilty look, not that I’d ever accuse him. Then… I served him. We didn’t say a word to each other. I left and in a few hours I was down here. I never was sure what happened, but I’d like to think I took it in stride. You said he killed… your father?”
David nodded.
“At the time I figured he’d accidently said some important state secret or something. It would’ve been understandable, anyone would be a bit sloppy after losing a loved one and suddenly winding up on the throne. But… then you said that and I heard who you were, who your father was. Not to speculate, but the two do seem connected. You okay, David?”
The prince wiped tears from his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but found those faculties wanting. Instead he nodded and put his face in his hands, breathing heavily. John put an arm out thinking he should help, but wasn’t sure what to say.
Eventually David composed himself. “He really did it.”
“Pardon?”
“Sal. He really did it. All this time I thought I was so sure, but now… thank you.”
“You’re… uh… welcome. Sire,” he added.
David chuckled at the term. “I’m glad I was locked here with you. I guess I really can’t give you Sal’s land, though, so name another prize. When I’m king it will be yours.”
“Just my freedom, David. It’s been a long time and I’d like to see my daughter again.”
----------------------------------------
“The Soldier’s Hilt, sire?”
“Yes, you know me well. Who am I up against?”
“Hmm… I don’t recognize the name. It seems they're in for theft.”
----------------------------------------
Gabriel entered the emperor’s box silently and sat beside Sal. The emperor got up, stood, and backed away from him.
“Say something, damn it!” Sal said.
“Wha- Oh! My apologies, your highness!”
Gabriel was deep in thought as his highness returned to his seat. He said the prince is going to defeat the circle, so that’s a fact. I can’t stop David, so I must at least make him hurt.
“Sire,” the head guard asked, “you’re going to fight him after he challenges you, right?”
“Yes, Gabriel, I’ll need to kill my brother.” After he kills you. Should I tell you that part?
Gabriel returned to thought. Then the more the prince is hurt, the less he’ll be able to hurt my king. This whole mess is my fault so the least I can do is deal that blow.
The announcer’s voice made it into the box seating. “...returning for the last chance at victory, the prince of the circle, the royal in the ring, the one, the only, David ben Salen!”
Sal leaned toward the guard, “Who’s he gonna chew through this time?”
Gabriel looked at the emperor. “Well, I figured we need to-” He stopped when the look of shock took over the emperor’s face.
Below them, in the Golden Circle, David’s challenger had appeared in the ring. Gabriel’s attempt to hurt David wasn’t a more skilled fighter. He wasn’t someone with an unstoppable ability either. In war, winning is when the opponent stops fighting. Hence Gabriel had elected to break David’s will.
Sal was disgusted. “A child? Good lord Gabriel, what have you done?”
“I know how it looks, but I figured-”
“No, I don’t want to hear it.” Sal got up. “I’m not watching this.”
“I’ll come with yo-”
“No you won’t. Don’t come anywhere near me.”
Sal left Gabriel totally rejected and headed down the stairs.
Maybe it’s better that he die in the same way he killed that child.
The emperor forced the thought from his mind. He found a place to sit and took a deep breath.
Now how am I going to defeat my brother?
With this question for the future, he went into a trance.
In time, he got an answer and threw up at the nature of it.
----------------------------------------
Naturally, David was even more appalled than Sal. Across from him stood a boy too young to even lift a proper sword. He had a knife that he seemed to know how to hold, but his stance was weak and the way he looked around lacked confidence.
This is my last opponent in the ring? A child? Good god, my brother, what have you become? You make me leave here either a corpse or a child killer. This final prison you’ve put me in, did you design it or pull its form from that hell of yours?
David could not bring himself to aggression this time. Instead he merely walked forward. When he moved, the boy took a step back, seemingly startled. Then he screamed and ran forward. David stopped at the sound of the juvenile voice.
The boy stabbed forward when he reached David. The man easily dodged the sloppy attack, and followed it with a kick that sent the knife flying. Disarmed, the boy tried to flee but was caught by the rags he was wearing.
David moved the squirming child to face him. “You had to apply for this, right?”
“Put me down!”
“Answer first.”
“Of course I did, idiot! Now put me down!”
“Do you know where we are?”
“Shut up and put me down!”
“No! I need to know what-”
“No you don’t you stupid fucker! They said I’d get out if I beat you, so I’m gonna beat you!”
Something glinted in the boy’s hand. David released the boy and jumped backward, but not before the knife cut into his arm.
He had two knives? No… the other one’s gone! The guard said this kid was a thief and he’s got an ability to match.
The boy ran at David again. Another dodge and a kick loosed the knife from his hands, but this time he teleported it back more quickly. More disarmings chained into more teleportations and stabs as the boy seemed to flail in desperation.
After knocking the blade away again, David stepped on the child’s hand pinning him to the ground. The boy screamed in pain.
“You realize you’ll have to kill me to get out of here, right?”
“Fine!” The blade appeared in his other hand and caught David in the other leg.
The pain shot up his body and he released his hold on the boy. With his good leg, he kicked the child a few feet away.
Damn it, I might actually die here if I don’t end this!
The boy picked himself up, clearly injured from the kick. He teleported the knife out of David’s leg and started toward him. When the child got close, David grabbed the wrist holding the knife and activated the hilt over the blade when it fell. The boy managed to teleport the entire knife, even the bit in David’s blade. But then it fell apart and a look of terror took over his face.
“It’s the conduit,” David said. “My ability only freezes matter, the hilt breaks bonds to loosen a blade.”
The boy doubled back. He teleported the knife again, but it merely fell apart. He tried picking up the pieces of the blade, but couldn’t find a way to hold them without cutting himself.
Then he looked at David. The hilt was clearly still active, so in a last desperate move, he teleported the conduit into his hand. The blade was air at one end and stone at the other. He rested the heavier end on the ground and tried to think of something. Then a flake fell off.
“No no no!”
Another flake fell, then a larger chunk. Before long, the matter at the end of the hilt fell away leaving a hilt without a blade. The boy pressed the button again and again hoping the hilt would do something.
By then, David was standing again. “That’s only a conduit. Like I said, the freezing comes from me.”
The boy tried to run, but inevitably David reached him.
He begged. “No! Stop! Don’t kill me! Please! Let me go! I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry!”
“I’m sorry too.”
David put a hand to his chest and the child screamed in absolute terror. Then, after a moment his voice gave way to panicked breaths. David had frozen half his heart and the other was failing. After a moment and a few twitches, the boy went still. David released the other half, which gave one last futile convulsion and then stopped.
The boy was dead. With only his hands, David had killed him.
With those same hands, David closed the child’s eyes and rested his head on the ground. Before too long, the body disappeared. But, unlike his previous rounds, David didn’t find himself back in the dark waiting area.
A clapping sound came from behind him. “Congratulations! You’ve defeated the Golden Circle.”
David whirled around to see the voice’s owner. “You’re Sal’s head guard?”
Gabriel nodded. “As head of the guard I am ultimately responsible for the matchings here. Your last three opponents were each chosen by me.”
“I see, you’re just here to cover for your emperor.”
“I speak the truth. You intend to challenge the emperor next, yes?”
“It is my right!”
“It is, but it is also my right to challenge you first. I won’t let you get to him!”
David looked at the ground. The hilt was still there. He ran for it, fighting to ignore the pain in his leg. Once he had the conduit he turned back to Gabriel, just in time to block an attack with an air blade.
Gabriel put his hand around the invisible blade. For a moment it cut, but then his hand seemed to dig into the frozen air. Once his fist closed, the head guard lifted it up, showing that he’d broken the blade.
David jumped back. Just like Lang said, he made it flow like a liquid! Deciding to keep a distance, David pulled a stone blade from the ground and flung it at Gabriel. The guard moved to dodge, but the projectile clipped his shoulder.
Silently, Gabriel grimaced with the pain. I don’t need to survive this, I just need to hurt him.
David threw another blade, which stuck into the ground before Gabriel. “Why are you doing this? If you wanted to kill me you should’ve chosen someone else for the circle!”
Sal said you’ll live to face him, so I can’t kill you! “Rest assured you will die.”
The guard bent down to the blade in front of him. He put a hand around the upward end. Rock, somehow flowing without high temperatures, dripped down the side as his ability softened a handle to hold. Gabriel pulled the blade from the earth and charged toward David.
The prince flung another blade. The guard blocked with his own. The blades broke against each other and Gabriel powered through the shrapnel.
Taken off guard, David took a step back but wasn’t able to flee. Gabriel grabbed the arm holding the hilt and squeezed. As skin gave way to blood and muscle, Gabriel’s hand closed, until the bone was thin enough that David’s hand fell to the ground. It was at this point that he ran.
The raw stump burned against the air. The inside-outside sense of his missing hand was uncanny. As clear thought returned, he noticed that he’d left the hilt behind. That wasn’t the only thought. Why didn’t he go for my throat?
He looked back to verify that Gabriel was pursuing him. Naturally, the guard was gaining on the injured prince. David stopped and turned to meet him.
Close combat it is, then!
Gabriel dove for his leg. David dodged and stepped on his forearm. Gabriel reached up for an attack with the other hand. David caught the other hand in a sphere of frozen matter to avoid making direct contact. Gabriel liquified the ground, letting his arm sink in and capturing David’s foot. David lost balance and the hand was released. Gabriel took the moment to start melting through the leg he’d originally attacked.
On instinct, David reached down for the guard’s head. His ability activated and before long, the head guard’s body went limp. It was only after the struggle ended that David noticed he’d done this with a hand he didn’t have.
The prince inspected his body. Gabriel hadn’t gotten that deep into his leg, but the wound was there and it was bleeding profusely. Same with his arm. The liquid ground had resolidified, but it seemed the shoe around David’s foot might be escapable. Before he tried that, he took off the rag covering his upper body, tore it, and tied it into makeshift tourniquets around his arm and leg. When the bleeding was lessened, he pulled the foot from the shoe in the earth.
One leg stabbed and the other melted, he crawled back toward his severed arm. As the tied cloth was not very effective, he found himself getting dizzy as he went. At one point he lost his balance while crawling. Falling to one side, he tried to catch himself with a hand he didn’t have and landed on that side’s shoulder. He didn’t notice it, but the pain in his shoulder was greater than that in the arm. It shocked him back into alertness.
Eventually, he reached the arm still holding the hilt. Only, the conduit was no longer recognizable. It seemed it had been liquified too, and then left to harden into a solid puddle.
He looked back at where he’d left Gabriel. The body was gone. For a moment he panicked before remembering where he was.
“Come out here Sal,” he slurred. “I know you come to all the fifth rounds in this place. I challenge you to single combat!”
Silence.
David grabbed the lump that was the hilt and crawled over to the nearest wall. He sat himself up facing in toward the ring. This way he can’t come up behind me.
Minutes passed with nothing changing, they felt like hours. David noticed the stadium in front of him looked familiar. He looked back behind him and remembered his cell must be one of those. I should’ve told John to wave to me, then I could tell which was which.
“Brother, it is not wise to turn away from the battlefield.” Sal was standing right in front of him. “Not that you have to worry of course. I’ve never been the type for violence.”
Liar! David chuckled lightheadedly. “Sal, look at me.”
“Yes, you aren’t in any condition to fight even an amateur like me.”
“Sure I am. We’re in the Golden Circle, so only one of us leaves alive. Even if I die here I’m taking you with me you piece of shit!”
Sal sighed, seemingly disappointed. “You know my ability, right?”
“You kill with words, but I have a plan.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll turn your prophecies into the empty lies they are!”
The emperor shook his head. “David, it’s not just words.”
He took a step back. In the blink of an eye, another figure appeared between the royal brothers. It was an old man, kneeling.
“David?” said the old man John.
Sal put a hand over his mouth and a knife to his chest. “Do not move! This blade is tipped with poison, the slightest scratch will be your end of days!”
David was speechless.
“Brother, would you rid this kingdom of an oracle? Would you spill such blood for that? Think, David, think of the waste! I was too sentimental in keeping you alive, you’ve shown me that. Here is my repayment. Fix my mistake and I’ll let this man live.”
David’s voice was meek. “You… how… He’s got nothing to do with this, Sal.”
The words sent a pang through the emperor’s heart, but he held his resolve.
Neither of them moved.
David’s mind went searching. It was so hard to think. What do I do? I can’t kill Sal, I can barely move. If I do nothing, then I’ll just bleed out and… I can at least save John.
The prince David lifted his one hand to his chest.
The old man John widened his eyes.
The emperor Sal’s hand trembled holding the knife.
But I can’t just leave him alive! He’s too dangerous to exist!
David clenched his fist and shut his eyes. Striking the ground, he screamed at the top of his lungs. No words in particular, just a guttural howl full of grief and violence.
When David stopped, he opened his eyes to see the tears running down Sal’s cheeks.
The emperor spoke softly. “All of this is necessary. I swear it.” It must be. “I’ll give you till the count of five to- Ah!”
The hostage made his decision. John bit the hand over his mouth and gripped tight onto Sal’s other hand. The knife went into his chest. He fell forward, pulling the emperor with him. As John fell to the ground, David’s brother tumbled over the poisoned body, landing right in front of the prince.
Sal started to get up. That wasn’t supposed to happen! I need more information! Without thinking, he started to put himself into an emergency half-trance to better deal with the situation.
David froze the matter around his fist and clobbered Sal in the back of the head.
The force mixed with the half-trance and distorted Sal’s consciousness. The limits on his ability, which had been so carefully embedded into his mind, came loose.
Where am I? Oh, this is the Golden Circle. I wonder why I’m-
Detritus from his shattered mind floated to the surface. His earlier question returned to him.
How am I going to defeat my brother?
He remembered the answer.
Use his cellmate as a hostage and he’ll kill himself.
Unbound, the thought slipped into the past. Realizing what had happened, he looked up at David’s mangled body.
“What have I done?”
“You killed our father!”
David raised his frozen fist and pummeled Sal in the face.
Again, the emperor reeled. More fragments of consciousness emerged.
Is there anyone in my court I should be worried about?
Yes. The treasurer and some conspirators have been stealing from the tax fund.
What’s my brother doing down there in the ring?
He’s fighting to escape captivity. Forgive Gabriel, he knows not what he’s done. By month’s end, David will escape, kill Gabriel, and then I’ll have to kill him.
What can I say to kill the guards who betrayed me?
Ask how they get along and they’ll betray each other. Ask about their families and they will kill out of fear.
Questions came in one after another, each with a bit tagged on the end for the contradiction trick. Each one pulled an answer out of him, and the bit followed despite no trance making sure it was accurate.
Finally a deeper question emerged.
Why did I need to kill my father?
The question shocked him. He’d never found out! The memory that bubbled up was a lie.
You’ll find out later.
David struck him again and he felt the end approaching.
Delirious, Sal felt the weight of the future in his past. But he had no future. This was what his actions had earned him. This was the legacy of his control.
In the end, it was he who was controlled. He sent one final message back.
I’m sorry, but you’ll need to kill Salen. It’s the only way.
After the fourth blow, Sal stopped thinking.
----------------------------------------
The last time Jane had seen her father, he was very frantic. She didn’t know it, but he’d just overheard something from the new king and had begun to see the writing on the wall.
He’d come home early. “Pack your things,” he said. “You’re going to stay with aunt Shere for a while now.”
Jane, then just a child, did as she was told. The two of them hustled through the servant halls toward the maids’ quarters in the palace. Once there, she was told to wait inside the room while her father and aunt discussed things outside. At the time she could only half-hear what they said, and years later she would remember very little.
“...what did he say then?”
“Not sure, I’m just worried…”
Aunt Shere had ended with a “fine” before her father came back in.
“Daddy, are you in trouble?”
He knelt down to speak to her. “I’m not sure, but I might be. I may need to go away for a while. Be good to your aunt while I’m gone, okay?”
“Ok.”
He folded his arms around her in an embrace. “No matter how long I’m gone, remember that I love you, okay?”
She repeated an “I love you too” and he left. Those were the last words she’d ever hear from him, and for years she kept them close to her heart.
As she grew, Shere suggested that she go into the city to find work. Jane refused, saying that her father would be expecting her here so she needed to stay. Compromising, she found herself briefly doing service as a maid. This didn’t last, though, as the finer points of servicing the nobility eluded her.
So she winded up outdoors among the gardeners. The work was on the harder side, but it was nothing she couldn’t do. By the time she was an adult many fights with weeds had made her strong and many artful hedges had made her dextrous and attentive to detail.
John would be proud, Shere often thought.
News of him trickled in slowly. First he was gone without a trace, but after a few days they learned he had been sent to the dungeon under the city. Communication in and out of there was impossible, but they managed to come by reassurances of his well being.
That is, reassurances came until the end.
News of the royal conflict in the Golden Circle spread like wildfire. The emperor had been beaten to death by his brother and the whole palace was in shock. “He kept hitting him for how long?” “Our king is a child-killer?” She’d seen the new emperor passing through the garden, and took note of his severed arm. That too was the subject of rumors: “I hear he’s had a conduit built into his prosthetic!”
The second wave of news was that her father had disappeared. For the first few days the details were scarce, he was missing from meals and then definitely wasn’t in his cell. Then connections were made: he’d been in the same cell as the new emperor! The first rumor was that David had killed him in some feral wrath, but these fell quiet when those who saw the match joined the conversation.
It was after learning this that she received a letter from the emperor:
To Jane, daughter of John,
My deepest condolences for the loss of your father. You and I are alike in what Sal took from us. His remains are being held in a matter-freezing conduit in preparation for the funeral. I want you to know that he was in good spirits up until the end. If you wish for further details, have a guard send me your letter and I will be sure to reply. Forgive me that I do not want to face you after all that I’ve done. That, and my brevity, for I am now very busy.
-Emperor David ben Salen
Attached was an invitation to her father’s funeral. She corresponded with the emperor for a while after that, but it wasn’t long before she had learned about all he had to tell.
The funeral was made a palace holiday and all the servants were allowed to attend. As he’d said, the emperor was not in attendance.
Jane walked to the front to pay her respects. Her father was in an ornate open-topped box, frozen in eternal sleep. She ran her fingers across the smooth frozen air at the opening of the box.
Explaining who she was, she asked an official to turn off the conduit. The man obliged, flipping a switch and letting her hand fall in.
Jane leaned forward and embraced her father. “Welcome back,” she whispered. “I never forgot.” When she came back up, his shirt was damp with tears.