Is there any shame in saying I puked? If there is, I can say I cried instead. That wouldn’t be the truth, though; the truth is that once I understood that Conifer, a man who I decided of my own free will—sort of—to befriend, had betrayed me, well it was just too much for me to take. Along with the fact that it was Bitter, of all people, who was standing there, well I’m honestly surprised I didn’t vacate more space in my body.

“What is this?” I asked, my mouth burning in acidic fury.

“S-s-sorry, M-Mi-Mi-Mint,” Conifer stuttered, looking like he was contemplating using his rusty dagger on himself.

“Sorry?” I repeated, so quiet I’m surprised anyone heard me.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Bitter said. He took a few lumbering steps forward, then made a noise of acknowledgement. “Ohhhh,” he said, tugging his thick black beard. “That’s right, you were that brittle man who tried to fight me,” he laughed. “I hadn’t realized it was you we had grabbed. Ha-ha! Oh, this is something special, isn’t it boys?”

All ten men said, “Aye!” in perfect unison.

“Ohhhh, ha-ha! Life sure is full of little surprises, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I said, gritting my teeth and glaring at Conifer. He looked like a dog that had eaten every dinner you’d ever made and gotten yelled at for each instance in a single sentence. Even so, I couldn’t feel bad for him, only extreme anger. At him, and at myself for going against Sage’s wishes.

“Well, let’s get going then boys,” Bitter said, finally stifling his own amusement. “Grab them and let’s go.”

“Them?” Conifer yelped, his eyes wild and wider than I thought possible.

“Oh come now,” Bitter sniggered. “You really thought I’d just let you run off? No, to be safe I have to bring you along as well. You understand; it’s just how this business works.”

“Business!?” Conifer spat, looking less and less like a man and more like danger itself. Which was a massive achievement considering his physique and overall countenance. If anything, that made it more frightening for me—it’s always those you least suspect, or something like that, right? “You made a promise!”

“Did I?” Bitter asked, looking very much done with the discussion. “I didn’t realize I had to obey our little agreement. Was there a reason I should have followed through on my part?” He leaned in close to Conifer, who made the mistake of gasping, throwing away any semblance of bravery he could have possibly housed in that small frame of his and replacing it with weakness, the spitting image of prey near predator. “As I understand it, my army,” he motioned to his warriors behind him, “They’re fighting the army that defends you. You helped us, sure. And I’m sure in your little, insignificant mind you thought that was a favor, right? We’d give up those girls and you three would run off into the sunset, living out your life beautifully and wonderfully; a touching notion, absolutely unrealistic.”

He smacked Conifer with enough force to send him sprawling to the ground, then turned and made eye contact with me. Smiling, he said, “You should keep better company, little prince. It might be too late, but I’ll give you a lesson in life right now that I wish I had learned at your age. Do you know what sort of man that is?” He pointed at Conifer, now weeping into the dirt with as much grace as an abandoned fish in search of anything besides sand on the beach.

“Scum,” was all I said.

Bitter’s smile became a grin. “You catch on quick, little prince. He’s scum. Worse than scum, he’s a snake whose belly knows only the dirt. He’ll do only what he has to in a sorry attempt to save himself and those he deems worth saving, while throwing those he deems unworthy to the wolves. You’d do well to keep away from men such as him.”

I took one last look at Conifer, then spit the taste out of my mouth, hoping to get rid of the terrible taste of bile around my teeth.

One warrior went to grab Conifer and carry him off to wherever it was we were going, while Bitter guided me with one huge palm on my back. It was strange how non confrontational he was… how friendly he was. The last time I had seen Bitter, I was trying to kill him. Now, it was like we were old friends, or at least like acquaintances who’d never engaged in any act of violence.

“Ha-ha!” he laughed as quietly as he could, which was still rather loud. I turned reactively, and he waved a hand. “Sorry, I was just reading your thoughts.”

“My thoughts?” I asked, confused.

“I’ve been told that I’m rather talented in the art of reading faces,” he said, sounding serious. “To me, it looks like you are uncomfortable with this situation. A fair assessment, no?”

I scratched my head, shrugged. “Yeah, but that’s sort of an easy thing to guess based on the situation, don’t you think?”

“You might be right,” he acknowledged. “Still, I’m right, yes? You’re nervous to be this close to me after our fight.”

When I didn’t respond, he asked again and I nodded.

“Hah! I thought so. Well, you’ve nothing to worry about, little prince. We are on the same side now, and so I won’t fight you as long as we are allies.” He patted my shoulder, rough enough to knock me down if I wasn’t prepared. “However,” he said, his voice a shade darker. “If you desire a fight, I’m more than willing to oblige. I’ve wanted a rematch since our last one was cut short.”

“If you hurt anyone here, then you’ll get more than a rematch,” I said, emotion welling up and throwing my logic out of the way.

Leaning closer, he whispered, “Don’t tempt me, little prince.”

We continued on, being lead outside of the walls which were largely unguarded due to the commotion we started in the dining hall, and we were lead down to the beach off to the western portion of the island. Floating further out in the sea were an incredible amount of boats, more than I’d ever seen in my life up to that point. There were a handful of larger boats very far out, and then speckled across the sea were smaller rowboats filled to the brim with warriors, all coming to shore fast. A single, larger boat was anchored closer to shore, just a few hairs shy of being the same size as the boat Sage had taken me on a few months ago.

“Alright boys, go put the snake in the cage,” Bitter commanded.

Puzzled, one warrior spoke up. “Sir, why not put the prince in there? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

“And let him out of my sight? Foolish! You know nothing of what this boy is capable of,” Bitter scolded, his grip on my shoulder getting more intense the louder he got.

“Yes sir!” was all they said, and they were off.

Bitter lead me over to a spot away from where the boats were hitting the shore, and I grew concerned for my well being. Having Conifer there was a comfort, even though whenever I looked at him I wanted to launch him as far away from me as possible. It wasn’t his fault he was a weak idiot, after all. Just as it wasn’t my fault I was… never mind. Remember to edit that.

Once we were alone, Bitter ripped the cape I was wearing off me and took away the dagger I was holding. Then, for good measure, he started to pat me down. Everywhere.

“I get it now,” I said, feeling my face redden against my wishes.

“Hmph?”

“You took me this way so you wouldn’t appear to love boys,” I said, feeling satisfied. Sometimes, I miss finding such uncouth notions funny as I had when I was younger. It was a simpler time.

Still, it didn’t work out for me.

“I don’t know what life is like in Avocado,” he said, finishing the pat down, “But where I’m from, love is love and no one cares about it. You’d be better off worrying about yourself than the love life of others.”

Even schoolboy humor was dismissed with professional aptitude.

He was looking over my dagger when someone came marching over to us. They were in full plate armor, a dark red color that looked black in the night, adorned with a cape that wasn’t too long so it wouldn’t get in the way in a fight. A long, ornate blade rested on their waste, slim and elegant in its make. He held a fist above his heart, and Bitter did the same in salute.

“General Bitter, have you a report on the…Oh!” They turned to me, and I think they looked at me—their helmet completely covered their face, muffling their voice. “It appears you have found the boy, then.”

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“You’d do well to remember he’s a prince, Sour,” Bitter whispered.

“Is he really? I was under the impression—”

“Sou-r-r,” Bitter growled.

“Right,” he said, nervous. “Sorry, Prince Peppermint. Well, in any case, is there anything to report on the fort they keep? We know they have their tunnels, but are there any other secrets?”

Heat washed over me; they knew about the tunnels too? How much had Conifer told these guys?

“They have a group of fighters, but they aren’t much,” Bitter sighed, sounding disappointed. “There are only a handful to worry about, primarily Sage and his crazy cook. Otherwise, it’ll be a wash. Not even really worth the fight, truth be told.”

“How sad for you,” Sour remarked, sounding sarcastic. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it then. At this pace, we’ll be back on the sea by dawn.”

Bitter nodded. “Be careful, Sour. Missions always sound great before they start.”

“It’s already started, and it’s going just fine,” Sour said, then returned to the shoreline.

Turning back to me, Bitter shook his head and sheathed my dagger, returning it to me.

“Uhm,” I said, staring at the weapon. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to keep it?”

He shook his head. “No need. You won’t try to escape, and that thing is not much. Such poor condition! You really should take better care of your weapons, being a prince and all.”

“About that,” I said, deciding to take a chance and get some information of my own while I was stuck like this. “That knight—Sour, was it? They were protesting my title. And I had heard rumors that there was still a Prince Peppermint in my absence, a prince who looked suspiciously like Prince Sumac of Cashew.”

Bitter’s face grew stiff and stoney, an emotionless mask.

“There wouldn’t happen to be some truth to that, would there, Bitter?”

“Perhaps,” he muttered. “But they are rumors, little prince. And with you being alive, well, I think it would be silly to think Sumac would retain his position, wouldn’t you?”

He didn’t deny it. My mother had taken Sumac in and used him as my replacement. Which meant that the coup was, partially at least, orchestrated by her. I had thought for the longest time that learning more about the situation might make me feel better, put me at ease. In that moment, however, I felt more anger well in me than I could possibly endure, so much so that I felt like my chest would cave in and I’d die right where I stood. Maybe it was panic, more than anger. Panic over the notion that I was effectively erased from existence by the person I’d devoted myself to my whole life.

And here I was, once again, lacking control but being told I had it, being seen as so insignificant that I could hold a weapon and be captured simultaneously, because I couldn’t possibly act.

I felt like a fool. Even more writing this.

Bitter stayed there, at the edge of the beach with on hand on my shoulder and one hand propping his head up, looking very fed up with what he considered boring work, while I remained vigilant through my swirling emotions and tried to make sense of what was about to happen. If I couldn’t be there to help, I’d at least understand everything the enemy was about to do, every crime they’d commit against me and my allies. In this way I would exact my revenge, or at least that’s what I told myself to make myself feel less than sad.

From my position, I could see that Sour was assembling soldiers into neat rows of about ten, and if my mental arithmetic was correct there were about one thousand soldiers under Sour’s command. Against a standard army, that would be not anywhere near enough; a general commanded upwards of ten thousand warriors, and a typical army had a few generals at their disposal. In this case, it was still a piece of logistical genius on the part of whomever organized the attack on Sage. They had a little under double the amount of soldiers we had, and theirs were higher quality by and large.

And, I thought with cold sweat running down my spine, more were still rowing to shore in this longboats.

“No wonder they aren’t sending you,” I stuttered, utter hopelessness in my every action.

“Hmm?” Bitter grunted, nearly asleep.

“There are so many people here, there’s no way anyone is going to survive this, is there?”

Bitter shook my shoulder like I was his nephew. “Little prince, you misunderstand what is happening. Not that I can blame you, you’re too young to do battle in most countries. And too short, for that matter.”

“Beratings aside, could you explain?”

He smirked, eyes glistening from the moonlight. “Certainly. There were two parts to our assignment here. The first is already complete, that being our retrieval of you. The second, however, isn’t something so vague or destructive as you seem to believe.”

Standing up straighter, he watched with me as Sour began a march so fierce that I’m sure the ceiling was shaking in our haven beneath us. “The only person that group is here to kill is Sage. Basil is an added bonus, but he’s not anywhere near as important.”

I frowned, confused. “What about the others down below?”

Bitter shrugged. “To be honest, most people respect the empire Sage has built here. It’s not a big empire, nor a strong one. But it’s undeniably a noble one, in that he has brought together the lost puppies of war, and mended many fences in doing so. If we were to begin murdering these people indiscriminately, as you believe we will, we would only be tarnishing our own names, let alone the banners we fight under. This mission of ours is as discreet as we could possibly make it.”

I turned to him, still bearing the same expression. “Then why is it the last time you were here you destroyed everything here?”

A grin more wolf than man became his visage, and he said, “I always say, my little prince, what’s a visit to old friends without a little hell raising?”

Right on cue, the backline of soldiers began setting the forest alight with torches they carried. Which, ironically, made Bitter swear and move our position away from the foliage we stood near. “Shit,” he grumbled. “I was just getting comfortable.”

Now we sat on the shore, closer to where the soldiers were still budding and multiplying by the blink of your eye. Here, the breeze was gentle and almost calming despite the scenery. I kept my head down, staring at the dagger and the implications it held within its sheath, while I eavesdropped on the soldiers as they made shore. Most said nothing worthwhile, but a few tried speaking to Bitter a few times. I don’t remember the specifics of what they said, but for the most part it boiled down to, “Why are you babysitting?”

He’d then chuckle, filled with enough mirth to burst, and he’d joke, “Well, I know to you boys he may not look like much, but the little prince here is more formidable than you’d think based merely on looks. Even I have a hard time fighting the little runt, and that’s the truth!”

This would usually cause the soldiers to reciprocate laughter, much to my dismay, and I’d think about all the things I would never have the guts to do.

More time passed, and the flames grew higher as the night neared closer to dawn, and I began wondering about the well-being of my friends. The one I was most concerned about wasn’t Sage, nor Basil, not even the Rose or Parsley, instead I was stuck on Chrys. Not only did I feel bad that he was stuck back there, but he was the one who tried to make sure none of this was set into motion in the first place by stopping Conifer. I figured he only let me go with Conifer because I knew him beforehand and Chrys didn’t want to dismiss him right away. As an old man, I realize this was partially his own fault; he really should have warned me about his behavior. Still, I blamed myself and that feeling still resides in me.

My thoughts were broken by a heavy yawn from Bitter, spreading that diseased smelling muck he called breath into my lungs and nearly killing me. “Ugh they’re taking way too long,” he droned. “It’s not that difficult to smoke him out, we already know where he is and we’ve got the lad out here. You’d think by now I’d be seeing something to—”

Before he was done that thought, a scream that redefined ear piercing dismantled his monologue. Five bodies blasted through the blazing circle of fire that surrounded the walls of the fort, each looking as close to death as one could get without dying, their skin exuding the smell of burning meat, their mouths all fallen open, eyes blank as sheets.

The normal reaction would be something like fright, sadness, panic, anything to the effect of distress. That’s normal.

Bitter laughed, and not the laugh he’d been doing in conversations. This was absolutely jovial, pure happiness.

“There it is,” he said. “Now where’s our star?”

More bodies descended then, all soldiers that had just a while ago rowed to shore. One body nearly hit me, and instead of moving aside with me, Bitter just punched it away before it could hit the ground, sending it skipping across the sand with a revolting crunch.

“Come on!” Bitter roared, suddenly tossing me to the ground. I was forgotten, but too surprised to do anything with that opportunity other than cough up sand and watch. “Where are you, Moss Knight? Where is Sage the False King? Show yourself!” When no one came through the flames, Bitter took a deep breath and undid the leather armor he wore, tossing it to the ground, showing off a body that would more accurately be referred to simply as scar tissue.

Just as I began fearing he might take his frustration out on me, a body flew through the flames right in front of Bitter, only this one wasn’t knocked out just yet. Sour stood—barely—in armor that was red hot and ripped apart, revealing his now partially burned face.

Sour raised his blade up and was met with a small green orb that looked very much like the one I had seen earlier in the night. His blade clanged with it briefly before being thrust from his hand and into the sea. Sour brought his arms into a cross guard in front of his face, and he was also knocked away with a similar green orb, falling into the sea with a splash. My heart raced again, this time with excitement; I gripped my dagger and tried formulating a plan of action. I could definitely surprise either Bitter or Sour and get a kill on them, evening the odds a bit.

Sage walked through the flames, surrounded by an orb of Vastmire that protected him so well that he didn’t have to make his trip through the fire a speedy one, instead opting for the slow and ominous look. He was already locking eyes with Bitter before they could have possibly known where their eyes would be, as if they’d been fighting each other the whole time. Sage’s face was the angriest I had ever seen it. I think if every being of power—gods, devils, monsters, kings, queens, all of them—were standing there waiting for him behind those flames, they would all squeal at the same time and run away in different directions. He didn’t even have a weapon in his hands. He didn’t need it.

Bitter stood his ground, meeting his angry face with one of sinister mirth. “There you are,” he said, grinning wolfishly.

Without looking at me, Sage said, “I see you have my son.”

Bitter licked his lips. “Do I?”

Sage nodded.

“Well? Want to fight about it?”

In answer, Sage launched a green orb into Bitter’s shoulder that was so strong it sent him back ten steps, and down under the sand about twenty.

“We’ve fought for less,” Sage said, absolute calm in his voice despite his actions.

And once again, my plans to help were shot down. This time not because I couldn’t help, but because I was unnecessary. I don’t know which hurts more.