The sun had already begun to set when William finally managed to track down that beast who had reduced Annie to those inhuman conditions. The search, obvious as it was, required almost all of the daylight to bear fruit; and it was very strange thing indeed for a skilled hunter as he was, who was used to notice even the faintest of tracks in a hostile terrain as the forest. But in the end he had made it.

The man, if it could have been defined as such a concentration of evil and pure sadism, was dining inside a well-known tavern of High Town with some of his fellow colleagues; he was sitting around a big and worn-out wooden table with dancing legs and a chipped surface, on which large mags of frothy beer had been placed by an annoyed looking waitress.

William was standing outside with his left shoulder pressed against the wall of a palace while he kept a steady watch on his prey. The growing darkness of the night, that was slowly engulfing the increasingly empty streets, managed to perfectly cloak his presence to anyone who turned their gaze in his direction. It was like he was born to do that. To stalk his prey in the cold but comforting embrace of the darkness that he so well knew. But he also knew that, no matter how comfortable he was in the middle of the night, hunting a man was a far cry from hunting an animal.

He was sure, inside his mind, that he would make that monster bleed, ignoring the more or less steep price he would surely have to pay. But did he have the strength and resolve required in the mercilessly act of killing another human? Of that, he wasn’t so sure. However, one thing was for certain: He came prepared for that.

Under the jacket he was wearing, he hid a knife, the only weapon he owned at that time. It was a gift from the man that had took him of the streets, for his first successful solo hunt. To think that he wanted to stab a man with that very same blade he used to mercy kill game, was something he would have never though. Life, however, didn’t care at all about such expectations.

In that precise moment he didn’t exactly have second thoughts, for his will was too strong to waver; but the tiniest bit of anxiety slowly started to make his way into his mind. Was that the right thing to do? Was he out his mind?

As those question swirled inside his head, he almost instinctively put his hand between the buttons of his jacket and rested it on the rough leather handle. That simple motion pushed that uncomfortable feeling back into the depths it had come from, bringing back the apparent serenity that had enveloped him just mere moments ago. If he wanted to succeed in his enterprise, he had to keep his nerve and concentrate to the maximum.

Having finally regained his composure, William went back to overserving what was unfolding inside the tavern, and nothing had changed. He saw his target drink enormous amounts of ale, throwing light punches across the table to clearly annoy his companions, that strangely didn’t react in any way. If it was due to some sort of twisted form of respect they had for the man in question, or if they simply feared him enough to not retaliate, William couldn’t tell. However, it was clear as daylight that something was amiss.

An air of tension, which William could perceive even from the distance he kept to conceal his presence, enveloped all the patrons seated inside in a tight grip. Everyone despised that imposing guard, or even loathed him deeply, by the way the kept shotting him ice cold stares. But nobody ever did something, or even said a quick word to voice their apparent displeasure. They all kept silent as respectful servants.

So, the night continued on as if nothing had happened, under the scrutiny of the watchful eyes of William.

He was feeling tired after the long day he had, and the little amount of rest that the previous night had offered was certainly not helpful. The sleepiness that suddenly overcame him almost made him give in to a well-earned rest that he so much desired; but trying hard with all his might he managed to stay awake. It didn’t matter how tired he was feeling. He had to finish what that he had started…if he could.

//////

Marygold had been searching for William far and wide. She didn’t leave any place unchecked in her desperate attempt to locate him before he could do something potentially disastrous, but that damned lad was nowhere to be found. It was like he had fled the city, or he had disappeared into sheer nothingness. If he didn’t want to be found, there was nothing she could have done to find him. William was too good at disappearing for her to even think about trying. Infuriatingly so. But, if she couldn’t track him, she could always track down the man he was after. The same man she had always found despicable, even amongst the vast amount of people she had met due to her daily occupation; he just was a person she wanted to avoid in any situation.

The stories that circulated behind closed doors, where only those with the ability to listen could hear the faint whispers in which they were told, always went to paint a picture of a crude man, capable of flogging even the weakest amongst the weak.

So she could understand William’s reaction. Especially after having seen with her own eyes the wounds that poor child, which had an already nightmarish existence, sustained on her little body. She understood that very clearly…but what William wanted to do was sheer madness.

To touch a man who was in the direct service of the ruling family in the city, and was surely above the law he was supposed to strictly represent, was a death sentence. No. She had to find him and end all of that lunacy before it was too late.

Having already checked the place he used to cross, she begun to question the many people that were crossing the streets in a vain attempt to locate someone who had seen him. She described him in any way possible, pointing out over and over his physical appearance, dwelling especially the raven shades of his hairs. However, even after stopping the nth person, it seemed as if no one had seen him since morning, when he had briefly appeared in the city market. At that point, where she seemed to have reached a stalemate, she stopped in her tracks, almost getting struck from behind by the heavy traffic of people.

Her face, which was in deep contrast to the stiffness of her toned body, was completely relaxed; her eyes were lost in thought, staring ahead at the mass of people that were flowing like water in the city arteries. Suddenly, her facial features contorted as if she had smelled some pungent odor. It was clear that whatever she come up in that brain of hers, was something that she found…unpleasant. But she had no other choice, or no other idea, to avoid what seemed like a forced option.

Grumbling deeply at the whole situation she was forced to deal with, she turned around and went back to William’s house, already grimacing at the thought of meeting a person she didn’t like: William’s adoptive “father”.

They knew each other for a long time. And they even had been close physically and emotionally for a period, some years ago. She used to feel happy whenever she was around him, living their existence side by side. But all that came crushing down hard one rainy evening, when her future was changed forever.

Even if she wasn’t involved in the…less than legal activities of his, she knew exactly what he was doing. And that was exactly why she felt an enormous anger that she still carried to this day. And how could she not?

She had tried so many times to convince him to abandon that lifestyle so that they could live in complete serenity without the constant fear of the possible consequences. The store she had just opened at that time didn’t generate sufficient amounts of money to live without worries, but it was still enough to live honestly.

But he had flatly refused to stop even when she had begged him to. He was too proud, too caught up in his entanglements to even consider that pacific resolution. And that’s why he untimely paid the price that would forever mark him.

All those thoughts went through her mind as she reached the house where he resided, in a quiet alley of Middle Town. The air that she was breathing in hadn’t changed even after all those years. If she had closed her eyes, surely she could have gone back in time to a period of her life that she now tried to forget. But in heart she also knew that she would have never succeeded.

After inhaling at the top of her lungs to calm her heartbeat, which suddenly seemed to be going crazy, Marygold knocked on the door vigorously. Once, twice, three times, until a drowsy voice finally answered. “Yeah! I heard! I’m coming. Who the hell…”

As the door opened wide, the man stopped talking. His eyes, even in his sorry state he was in, opened wide as the sheer shock of what he was seeing settled in. “…Oh…Hi. I didn’t…”

“Save it, Michael. I don’t want to know it. We have already said everything we needed to years ago.”

Michael shock quickly disappeared as her words settled in. “Then why the hell have you come here?”

“…It’s because of William.”

“William? What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s…he has decided…he…” said Marygold trying to find the words. But no matter how hard she tried, she seemed to really struggle. Eventually, all the frustration she had repressed up to that point came out. “Dammit! I don’t have time! Just tell me if you have seen him!”

“No! Not since this morning.”

“Then I’m only wasting my time.”

Marygold turned around with the intention to leave. She already had already taken the first step back. But something grabbed her arm and stopped her from making any other movement.

“Wait!” said Michael as he tightened his grip on her arm. “What the fuck is going on?! I have never seen you like this before.”

“Listen, I don’t…”

“No, you listen. We might have had our problems in the past. But that is something that’s between you and me. If it’s about William, I deserve to know.”

Suddenly, Marygold freed herself from his grip and turned around. Wrath was boiling inside those beautiful green eyes. “You deserve what?! You are just a drunkard. Instead of trying to repair the damage you have caused, you decided to drown your sorrows and bitterness in alcohol. You never cared about William. You only ever used him for your own purposes.”

“That’s not true. It might have been like that when I had first taken him in. But now things have changed.”

“Really?” asked Marygold in utter disbelief as she took a step forward. She now was only a few inches from his face. “Then help me find him!”

Then she turned around and did not look back, venturing in the busy streets she had come from.

//////

William suddenly opened his eyes, as if he had somehow managed to perceive the sudden movement that was happening at the tavern’s door. He couldn’t’ believe what had happened, but he just knew he had fallen asleep. For how long, he hadn’t the slightest idea. “Dammit!” screamed William in a low voice, his anger seething out like a fine venom. He couldn’t believe he had given in to the simple tiredness he was feeling; not after all the hardship he had endured in his life. A thousand times he had been forced to endure physical mental trials that most people could not even imagine. Yet, although he had miraculously managed to triumph over all those adversities, he had surrendered to simple fatigue. Was he really that fragile? No. It couldn’t be. And yet…

In that moment, raising his gaze towards the noise that had brought him back to reality, he saw the handful of guards who had spent the night drinking bid goodnight to each other and split into two distinct groups that went their separate ways. However, the handful that caught his undivided attention was the one that walked down the road to the right, which led to some upper part of Middle Town.

Leading them was the man who caused so much pain to the townsfolk. The same man that William hated with all his heart.

By the way he walked, with his back slightly arched forward and a terrible sense of balance, it was clear to William that his target had drank his fair share of ale. And he certainly would not have had his reflexes perfectly intact. A point that certainly played in William’s favour. In his head he was already planning a way to ambush the convoy in a rapid and ruthless assault that would have worked perfectly. Arrive, strike and flee. But he wasn’t clueless about his real possibilities. He realized that if he had disregarded the most important thing, his safety, he could have almost certainly died without achieving anything.

Even if he had a relative experience in handling a blade, he also knew he had basic knowledge at most. Instead, his adversaries were professionals. They had trained at a much better rate and in a much better environment that shaped them in fighting men; they knew how to defend themselves against a large number of threats that they could have encountered during their working hours. And they were deadly efficient at that.

“There is no way I can handle them all. Even in their pitiful state, they are dangerous.” whispered William to himself, while he begun to follow them. The guards had finally put enough distance.

As he kept some distance to hide his presence, always sticking to shadows that the tall buildings offered during what seemed like a delicate balance between a chase and a hunt, that pattern, so simple yet so complicated, repeated itself for what seemed like an eternity: He followed them through all the nook and crannies, through all the roads and all the alley, trying to find the perfect time strike, and they distanced themselves.

However, after the nth turn, he begun to have a peculiar feeling: it seemed to him liked he was the one that was being led to a trap. He couldn’t phantom how they could even function under the influence of all the alcohol they had guzzled. And yet, here they were, walking down the city roads as if nothing had happened. Something was wrong. Or at least that’s what he thought. But pushing that feeling of danger back where it came from, William continued.

After God knows how much time, when everything seemed to be on a constant loop, something finally changed.

The group, which up to that point had remained tight and compact, slowly broke down; one by one, the guards who had been escorting his target went their separate ways, some going down some dark alleys, some venturing on the main roads. Finally, after a whole night, his target in the open and vulnerable. Now William could plunge the blade of his knife right in the flesh of that bastard. Now all those innocent people he had hurt in the years, could have their well sought revenge. And William would deliver it to them.

Taking care not to make even the faintest noise, for he knew that in the middle of the night, where almost a perfect stillness reigned supreme, it would surely be amplified, he drew his dagger. Such were his senses elevated that he could clearly perceive the cold blade leave its scabbard, slithering its way to freedom, ready to cut, tear, and lacerate.

Soon, very soon, that same perfectly sharp blade would have tasted human blood for the first time since it was forged. Soon William would, for the first time in his life, cut human flesh. Soon, his world would have changed forever. But first he had to silence all those voices that were swirling inside his head.

Even if William felt an inner turmoil so strong that any other person in his place would have crumbled under that pressure, his body was completely still and ready for action. The hand that grasped the blade in a tight and firm grip didn’t even move when he took a deep breath to calm himself.

He was ready.

He was focused.

The time for action had come.

//////

The blade sunk in the side of the guard, wetting the cold metal of a rich and unmistakable crimson colour. However, unlike what William had imagined, there were no blaring screams or heartbreaking wails of pain. Unlike the animals he used to hunt, only a faint moan came out of the victim’s mouth. It was like that giant of a man had barely felt what had just happened.

Caught by a sudden impulse to thrust the blade further in, perhaps to elicit a more evident reaction, William planted his feet firmly and pushed with all the strength he could muster. But the armor, even with all of its flaws, managed to create enough attrition to stop the blade travel.

By quickly understanding the problem, William begun to pull instead of pushing forward, to yank it free. It would have been easier to strike again than to continue in that useless waste of energies. But before the knife had been fully released, William was struck on the right shoulder by a devastating elbow which threw him to the ground a few steps away. Only because of the iron grip with which he had held the knife did he manage to keep possession of it.

“Ah…” said the guard as he felt the blade pop out his torn flesh. “You little…fucking rat! This is the last thing you’ll ever do. I’m going to rip you apart in so many pieces that they’ll never be able to put you back together! You hear me!? You’re dead!”

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As the guard removed the hand that he had placed on his hip to stop the blood from gushing out, William slowly stood up as he tried to assume a fighting position. He kept his back slightly bent forward, with the knife pointed forward and his legs sprung for quickness. The plan that he had envisioned to end the fight as soon as possible had failed miserably. Now, if he wanted to achieve success over that mountain of an opponent, he had to rely on the sole thing he was sure to be superior: his agility.

Unlike that giant, whose strength was recognized and feared by all, in addition to the cruelty with which he abused the small shard of power he enjoyed, he was his exact opposite. William’s physique was yes toned, thanks to hundreds of hunts he had done illegally, but not to perform great strength efforts. To successfully hunt he had to be quick and lighting fast in his movements, especially for certain types of prey such as wild boars, hares, and any other game with agile limbs. And that was exactly what he planned to rely upon.

“Oh!” said the guard with a dark grin painted on his face. The sword that he carried tightly on his belt was unsheathed, emitting an eerie hissing sound that gave William goose bumps, for he instinctively realized that one clean hit would be the end for him. “Trying to fight me head on? You must have a screw loose inside that head. Not that I give a damn. I always enjoy it when my victims put up a fight. It’s such a thrill, really. Just like that little girl.”

William didn’t know if that was an attempt to make him loose his temper or if he was simply that crazy. The fact remains, however, that his words made him tremble with anger. Such was the rage he felt inside that he could perceive his blood boil in his veins. How could a man possess such a twisted personality? How had he gone unpunished for all that time? Those were the questions that gripped his mind as he advanced towards him with a quick but firm step. Soon, those footsteps turned into actual strides.

The guard quickly adjusted his stance, dropping into a low squat while keeping the sword tightly gripped in his giant hands. At the last moment, he skilfully evaded William’s charge, bringing down the sharp metal to him. William managed to evade much of the slash at the very last moment, although the kick to the ribs that followed flung him far away. The laugh that followed had a sadistic undertone. “Already done? After everything that you went through, is that all you amount to? A backstab like a fucking coward? Come on! Get up! I’m nowhere near done with you!”

William clutched the ribs as he tried to regain his breath. The impact had been so strong that he was under the impression that his lungs had become paralyzed. Then, slowly, air had begun to inflate them as it always did. If he desired to have the upper hand, he knew for certain that he couldn’t afford to take another blow. Not with his ribs in that condition.

As he rose to his feet he calmed himself, opting to adopt a defensive stance. He bent his knees enough to be agile, positioning the right feet forward. “What’s that?” said the guard while mocking him. “Come on. Let’s do it again. Try to cut me again, you insignificant worm.”

The words were nothing more than a bait. A bait that William didn’t fall for.

The anger rose quickly under the false sense of omnipotence that the guard was wearing. So much, in fact, that he was the one to charge, hollering at the top of his lungs.

William could almost see the ground shake under that man heavy steps. How could a human look so…inhumane? But maybe it was just mind that was playing him some tricks.

When that goliath had neared enough, he bringed up his sword over his head, lowering it towards William’s body.

William rolled forward one, two times, miraculously evading it. If he had previously tried to fight him head on, now he wasn’t. His goal was to tire him.

By always keeping a low stance, with his legs parted just enough to achieve maximum flexibility on the joints, William evaded the barrage of blows that kept raining like a summer storm. On rare occasions, when he made even a small mistake in his calculations, some slashes managed to break through his defence and wound him, if only superficially. Fortunately however, it seemed like his plan was starting to pay off.

The movements of his opponent transformed from precise and full of vigour, with slashes that carried with them an insane amount of destructive force, to chaotic and almost slow, making him appear for what he really was: nothing more than just another man. A sadistic, but mortal, man.

With that distorted perception finally gone from his mind, William steeled himself with renewed purpose. And the moment the following slash had come, he counterattacked. As the slash missed his head hissing through the air, William slashed his knife in an upward motion towards the arm. He could immediately tell that the blow had struck true, because a river of blood began to wet the guard’s clothes. “You…fucking…rat.” said the guard, who was now in heavy breath. “I’m…going…to…cut you up.”

The guard then raised his sword, bringing the blade over his head. The intent to cut him in half was evident in his posture, which now relied entirely on brute force unlike before, and in his gaze which was as red-hot as lava. The true nature of that man had finally manifested itself. He wasn’t a trained professional as he portrayed himself. He was just a thug. A thug that wasn’t fighting rationally, and that was out of breath.

Now William had the upper hand, which allowed him to execute his guerrilla tactics: evade, strike, and flee. Every time the guard lowered the blade on his head, or any other body part he found under his eyes, William evaded the strike. The power of those slashes was such that they raised a cloud of dust when they impacted on the ground. But all that strength was utterly useless if it didn’t reach the target.

In the couple of minutes that followed, those patterns repeated themselves in a loop: The guard would charge like a bull, swinging his blade with wide strikes, and William would counter attack, leaving a new wound on his body. Only once had that pattern broken down, when William made a mistake that cost him a cut on his arm. Nothing too serious, but still it was constantly gushing blood.

In that moment he realized that the time had come get over with it.

Feeling his energies quickly draining out, William decided to risk it all in a last strike. He positioned himself at the best of his abilities, pointing the crimson knife right where he had wounded him before that fight had begun. Then he charged forward, sprinting with all his might.

Had he attempted that last move in a completely different scenario, he would have surely lost. It would have been too much of a difference in size and ability. But all the ground work that he had done prior to that point, created an opening large enough to be exploited.

The next time the guard rose his blade to cut him in half, William launched forward before he could even begin his attack, and he stuck the blade deep inside the already lacerated flesh. The momentum that he had carried in that motion catapulted him beyond, until he crashed down to the ground in a cloud of dust.

Even if he felt every bone and every muscle fibre ache beyond belief, he ignored all of that, only to rise up in a heartbeat as massive waves of endorphins bombarded his system. The fear of an imminent attack made him rise the knife in a clumsy attempt to defend himself. But that attack never came. The enemy had finally fallen down.

As relief washed over him, William suddenly fell down his right knee as all the small cuts, the bruises and the fatigue had finally accumulated. Only the sheer force of will allowed him to stand up, albeit staggeringly. At his feet, a few steps away, laid his opponent; he was as still as standing water in a pool of his own blood, unconscious to the amount he had lost. In the moment, William could have walked away.

That man would have probably met his end at that point. But something dark and obscure whispered hate and vengeance in his mind, telling him to inflict it to that monster. He deserved it after all, no? It wouldn’t have been wrong…

Or, could he really leave him to die without inflicting some well-deserved punishment? Could he really ignore all those people that had been tormented by that monster, and who had never found justice? The answer, at least to him, was an obvious one.

After grabbing his weapon, that had slipped out of his grip when he had fallen, he advanced forward with renewed purpose. His face was a mask of calmness, devoid of any emotions.

When he reached him, he stood still for a brief moment, gazing at him with cold eyes. But as much as he would have wanted to relish that moment, he felt his energies quickly draining out of him. So he knelt down and pressed the point of the blade on his temple.

A trail of blood, minuscule compared to the amounts he had envisioned, began to fall slowly from the man’s head to the cold ground, while William tore the skin towards the jaw. Then he made another cut, deeper this time. Then another came. Eventually, after he had finished his macabre art, he pressed the blade on his throat. Now he had to complete his work. Just another cut and everything would reach its conclusion. Just another cut that would…

“Drop the weapon!” said a guard as they unsheathed their swords.

It seemed he had been so engrossed in it that he hadn’t even noticed them.

As his eyes slowly adjusted the heavy armed men surrounded him in a tight circle, pointing their weapons at his body to ensure he wouldn’t escape. But William wouldn’t even tried. They couldn’t have known, but he was too tired. Too weak to even lift his arms above his chin. He had no choice but to surrender.

Moving slowly, he lifted the knife and threw it away from himself. However, before the blade had even touched the ground, he perceived a female presence appearing in the distance. He couldn’t explain how he had recognized her without even seeing her, but he was sure of it: It was without a doubt Marygold.

William gazed with tired eyes at the feminine form that was trying in any way possible to get past the guards, albeit at no success. She was screaming atop her lungs, insulting those men in what appeared to be every curse word mankind had ever created. But no matter how much loud she could scream, or how much tension had spread through the air; William couldn’t understand even a single word. His mind had become a distant echo of what once was, void of any thought and impulse.

And his eyes. So great was his tiredness that he could barely see their blurred shadows moving in the cold night. Then it finally came. His very being gave up the fight that had been raging inside.

As unconsciousness quickly rose to claim him in her warm e cuddly embrace, William mustered the last fleeting embers of awareness he could muster to throw one last gaze towards Marygold. Those unmistakable blonde hairs fluttering left and right in hypnotic waves were the last thing he saw as he finally let himself fall to the ground. There, atop a bloody guard, William had finally passed out.

//////

The day set for the sentencing had finally come. William, which had been imprisoned inside four walls that would make even men with iron limbs vomit, was picked up at the crack of dawn and made to wash with buckets of ice-cold water. This, along with providing a fresh set of clothes, had been done by the guards to clean all the dirt and the blood stain that had dotted his body.

Even though almost all of the guard corps hated the man that Willam had assaulted, leaving him barely alive in paddle of blood, a couple of them still held him in high regards. In fact, they were the ones who had visited him one night and beat him pretty good; of course, he initially tried to defend himself in the same way he did with the bastard he had almost killed, fending off the blows that fell incessantly against him. But soon, all of his efforts come undone.

His already depleted body, that hadn’t eaten even a slice of bread in three days since he was imprisoned, extinguished all the energies that had at its disposal, almost shutting down. The myriad of blows that followed made William cover up his head in a last attempt to preserve his life, even though he knew perfectly well that it would be very short-lived fight at that point. The seconds almost seemed to last forever under the constant beating. It seemed like his fate was already sealed.

Suddenly, as he felt his consciousness fading, a handful of guards led by a man with whom William had formed a strange and unexpected relationship of respect during his imprisonment, appeared and jumped on his would-be killers, subsiding them and throwing them inside the nearest empty cells. It was thanks to that man that William was able to come out of that massacre alive, even if he sure wasn’t expecting that outcome. For a guard, a respected one at that, to defend a prisoner accused of that type of crime was unheard of. But it still had happened.

Now, when six or seven days had passed since the beating, his wounds had healed just enough to appear in front of the court. Strangely, it was still thanks to that very same man that saved his life prior that he had managed to recover; if he had stayed in that cell, that honestly resembled more of a latrine pit than a jail, he would have surely died in an horrific way that made even him shudder at the very thought.

“Get dressed.” said a guard that had one of most impressive beards that William had ever seen. “You will be taken to a room, waiting for the court to have assembled.”

“…When will that be?”

“How should I know? Now hurry up and don’t keep me waiting. I have other duties to attend to.”

William couldn’t have cared less about appearing presentable before a group of people he regarded as pure scum, not even during his sentencing. It was his belief that they were just an ailment that gripped the city in its tight grip. He still remembered clearly, even after all those years, the looks filled with hatred and contempt that the wealthier people in another town had given him when he tried to survive on the streets. And he was sure the people in this one weren’t any different. Therefore, it shouldn’t have been surprising that he felt a deep sense of disgust, which arose from his stomach and went up to his mouth, at the mere thought of being condemned by that same scum who disregarded those who they considered inferior. If he could, he would surely beat them up.

In that moment, as he was busy picturing something inside his mind, something strange happened: a smile, as strange as it was genuine, slowly painted on his face.

“What? Why are you smiling like that?” asked the guard intrigued. He was wondering how a man, young as William was, could smile while facing what seemed like certain death. The punishment for the type of crime he had committed had always been that. And the guard was sure that wasn’t going to change.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” answered William. In reality, a thought was the culprit of that strange behaviour. He didn’t know why, or even how, but he had remembered how the man who thought him how to hunt had lost his hand. And that had been enough to make him smile, for he understood that the same people that had impaired his saviour all those years ago, would be most likely the ones that would sentence him to death now. How ironic…

With that same smile still uplifted on his lips, William finished dressing in the clean set of clothes that he was provided. They were of a size too big for him, but he didn’t care.

In matter of seconds, the guards let him out of there and, while maintaining a vigilant watch to ensure he didn’t try to escape, led him inside a well-furnished room. Then, after ensuring that nothing was out of place, they went out and locked the door behind them, leaving him completely alone with his thoughts.

As William adjusted to the new environment, which was certainly a marked improvement from a close and dark cell, he sat down in a comfy chair as he let his mind wonder into the dark abyss that hid behind his closed eyes. Time became a reality that he completely ignored, as he lost track of it in that small escape. How much had he wanted to remain forever in that calmness that devoured everything, that mitigated everything, and made everything so simple. There he would no longer feel pain. There he would no longer have to contend with enormous abyss he had inside him. But one cannot run forever. At a certain point, one must face his fate.

After a couple of hours, exactly when the iron shackles that restrained his hands and legs started to hurt, pulling him out of that imaginary space, the guards entered the room and without too many pleasantries led him inside the courtroom, pulling him from the shackles.

When the big wooden doors opened wide, the reality hit him like never before.

In that room, filled with people he despised with all of his being, his destiny was going to be decided. A realization that made him tremble with anger. Every single one of those upstarts, that inhabited High Town and some houses in upper Middle Town, looked at him with nothing more than morbid curiosity, as if he was nothing more than a new source of entertainment. Their faces were the immaculate mirror of how twisted the society had become. How could they take pleasure in such a thing? How could they live with themselves? If William had his way, and he certainly wanted to, he would have killed them all; every single one. But that though, tempting as it was, was nothing more than an impossible fantasy that it would have stayed that way.

Suddenly, when he had reached his fated position, exactly in front of where the ruling family was comfortably waiting, a chorus that reverberated on the thick stone walls enveloped all the presents in a tight embrace. They were demanding his death in colourful and heated phrases, perhaps in a show of support to most powerful figure in town, in the vain hope of getting into his good graces. But the man to whom such a pitiful show of submission was dedicated, whose name was Arthur, remained impassable in his comfy chair. He stood there gazing into the unknown, as if irritated to even breath the same air as those people. How peculiar.

When he finally reached a point where he couldn’t tolerate their voices anymore, he simply raised his hand in slow, demanding way; everyone fell silent, already anticipating what was, in their opinions, an already sealed fate.

However, before Arthur could even open his lips, a man with short hair and a long and carefully combed beard, stood up from his seated position, asking permission to directly address him. All the people started to voice their evident outrage, already set on warpath. “Go on.” said Arthur abruptly, making silence reign once more.

“Lord Blackthorn…” said the man with utmost respect while approaching him. “It is clear to everyone present that the punishment for the crime perpetuated by this young man can be one, and one only: death.” As soon as those words left his mouth, a murmur of approval started to spread. “But…” said the man, interrupting everyone. “The times we live in are not normal. In truth, they’re far from that. The war that we are currently undergoing has left its mark on our affairs. Especially the last battle fought in the rough mountain terrains, when we have sustained heavy casualties.”

Arthur Blackthorn listened intently as the man in front of him kept explaining all the difficulties that his military, and by extension the King’s, had encountered in a war that had persisted for years and had devastated everything that crossed its path. By the look that he gave him, it was obvious that he was pondering where he was going for. “…What are getting at?” demanded to know Arthur, as he slightly titled forward unconsciously.

“Let me get straight to the point then.” replied the man, looking at his liege straight in the eyes. “Let me have this young man under my command. Let him fight in the war as a way to atone for his crime. In times such as these, where every battle, but most importantly, every man, is crucial to obtain an advantage on our enemies, we cannot allow talent to go to waste.”

“…TALENT?!” suddenly yelled a man that, by the sheer look of his appearance, had very deep pockets. “Do you have the nerve to call that assault on a talent?! That’s…”

“Yes!” replied the man raising his voice so all could hear him. “I will not even bother explaining how difficult such a task is to those who have nothing but deaf ears. But I’m sure a man such as our liege has understood exactly the value of my words. The sheer force of will and character this young man has demonstrated is a rare trait now days; if you also take into account his inexperience, what he managed to do has something miraculous about it. We cannot waste such…hidden talents. Not when we could focus them to our advantage.”

At that point, the totality of the room exploded as the crowd stood up to voice their anger towards such proposition. If it had depended solely on their wills, William would have surely been sentenced to death. A gibbet, some rope, and off he’ll go, hanging in mid-air.

However, the decision wasn’t theirs to make. The power over death and life was in the hands of a single man; the same man that angrily stood up and swiftly ordered everybody to shut the hell up. “Quiet! I said quiet! I will not tolerate such chaos in these halls. And anybody how has something to say about it will encounter my wrath. Are we clear?!”

An oppressive silence fell as a dark cloud inside those walls, eating away every single voice. The fear that followed showed how dreaded was the lord’s anger amongst his subjects, especially amongst the front rows, where the richest had been accommodated. “…Useless fuckers…” thought William as he locked eyes with a lord seated near him. Inside them he could perceive the terror of losing all his wealth.

“Good.” said Lord Blackthorn, as his anger slowly receded back. “Now, on the matter at hand, I have reached a conclusion. The crime committed by this young man is grave, and I would have followed whatever decision this court would have decided. But the war, that I would like to remind everyone present here of the ongoing war effort that has vexed the land, has reached the bloodiest and cruellest point since it started. The King, in all of his possible shortcomings, is a determined man. A man that cannot, under any circumstance, allow himself to lose. For that reason, we must ensure that his majesty receives all the help we can offer. And if it’s under my power to spare an honest man, or a man from his family, from the gruesome death that could await in the front lines, then I’m obliged to do so.”

William, which had remained completely emotionless since he had been brought between the front rows, couldn’t suppress a grimace. The way that so called lord rolled the words in his mouth, the way he manipulated the crowd into his own agenda, was nothing more than an extension of his character. It was no coincidence that, for all those years, that powerful figure had managed to keep ruling undisputed. He made sure to appease the masses on one hand, and to be ruthless in the other. He was, in his modest opinion, the best example of a ruler.

But to William all of that didn’t matter. He simply hated them all with ardent passion.

“The accused is therefore sentenced to join the soldiers ranks, under your tutelage, until the end of hostilities, assuming he survives long enough. To ensure that he doesn’t try to weasel his way out as soon as possible, he will be placed under your direct command. Guards, escort him momently to his cell.”

This time nobody uttered a word, as to respect the decision that the lord had reached. In reality, nobody dared to offer even a valid argument to contradict that sentence. Everybody remained…silent.

Only the footsteps of William, who was now being escorted back into the dungeons, could be heard.