Chapter 6 - Henryk's Reprieve

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Henryk

“Chilling out of school is pretty chill all right,” Marcus said, his hand gesturing toward Academy City. The lights blazed brightly, illuminating the streets even late into the night. Cars swerved along the roads, weaving between pedestrians—some homeless, others with strange, otherworldly features. A few were dressed in ragged clothes, while others wore black suits and gowns, gold cuffs gleaming on their wrists.

Henryk had left behind his academy uniform, now dressed in worn worker pants, a matted white shirt, and deep brown boots. He walked beside Marcus, whose eyes gleamed with excitement, a joint tucked between his lips.

“Ah, where are my manners,” Marcus said, removing the joint and offering it to Henryk.

Henryk eyed it, his curiosity evident, but after a moment, he shook his head. “I heard that stuff gives you a crazy head rush.”

Marcus laughed, his voice heavy and relaxed. “This ain’t no head rush, man. More like a chill, mellow crash,” he said, bobbing his head to some unspoken rhythm. “But hey, no pressure. Where you from, Henryk?”

Henryk hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just some run-down frontier world,” he muttered, his gaze drifting to the city lights, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But this... this place has a whole different feel to it.”

“No kidding,” Marcus agreed, raising his arms as if to embrace the sprawling cityscape. “I come from a pretty advanced mid-world myself. We’re laid-back, but the academy? Man, it can really take your breath away sometimes.”

As they walked, Henryk found himself lagging behind, his steps slowing.

Marcus noticed, turning back with the joint still lit between his lips. “What’s got you dragging back there?” he asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

Henryk paused, clenching his fists before speaking. “Marcus, why are we out here tonight, without our colors?”

Marcus exhaled, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “There are rules in Academy City that don’t apply at the academy,” he said, glancing around.

“I know that. I’ve got a job at the pizza place around here,” Henryk replied, his voice trailing off. “But...”

Marcus chuckled heavily, as Henryk took a cautious step backward, only for Marcus to close the distance with a step forward. "Nice to have a friend with money. Lucas… he was always bugging me for free weed, and I kept running the biggest tab with that guy," Marcus said, his voice tinged with a lingering frustration.

Henryk paused, his fingers flexing unconsciously. For a brief moment, he caught something—an undercurrent, a tremor in Marcus's voice, a glimmer of the pain he was desperately trying to drown out.

Marcus's breath deepened as thoughts of Lucas surfaced—the affidavit, the guilt of what might have happened to him. What could have happened to all of them. The academy had that effect, haunting every student with the same question that now echoed in Henryk’s mind: was it worth it? The death, the pain, the loss— all to mold warriors and heroes for an Emperor that remained distant, almost ethereal. A eunuch Emperor who let aliens threaten their worlds and pirates run rampant.

Henryk’s thoughts drifted to his family—his mom, dad, and older brother. What was he doing here?

Yet, as Henryk’s hand settled on Marcus’s shoulder, all of it— the doubts, the anxiety— seemed to recede.

"Where to?" Henryk asked, trying on a tentative smile.

The question seemed to lift some of the weight off Marcus’s chest, bringing a bit of light back into the night. Maybe one day they’d talk about Lucas, but not tonight. Right now, Marcus needed someone who understood, someone who could sympathize.

"Lucas was a real good guy," Henryk said, patting Marcus on the shoulder. Marcus’s eyes widened at the unexpected support. "You guys— you were the reason I got through that duel with Piper. Aside from what happened to her, you were top-notch handlers."

Marcus nodded, the high returning as the crisp city air chilled his skin. The fire relit, and Henryk’s smile helped ease the weight of the past.

"You're different from the other academy folks," Marcus hummed, almost to himself. "I like that. It's good."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Henryk asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It means you're actually fucking chill for once," Marcus replied, laughing out loud.

Henryk smirked, but his thoughts began to drift to the past. “Marcus,” he started, his tone more serious, “when you came back a while ago, you said you had to thank me and House Mars for something. What was that about? I was confused back then.”

Before Marcus could respond, he raised his arms and hollered, “Ah, we’re here!”

Henryk wasn’t sure if Marcus had chosen to ignore the question or if the drugs were making him lose track, but he let it slide.

They stepped into a secluded enclave off the road. It was a park, though on a much grander scale than Henryk had ever imagined. The long lawns of freshly cropped grass shimmered under the sprinklers, misting the multi-colored cobblestone paths beneath their feet. The quiet hum of the city faded into the background, leaving only the soft patter of water and the occasional breeze in the air.

Henryk felt his lips inch into a smile at the vibrant, water-speckled colors of the park.

"Ah, better than some shit colony world," Marcus mumbled.

"Hey, don't diss my world," Henryk said, running up to his side.

"Sorry," Marcus raised his hand in mock apology. "If you want, you can shit on mine. We'll call it even."

"Nah, man. I ain't like that," Henryk said, waving it off.

Marcus cocked his head, his smile stretching wider and wider. "Hey, you don't got any problems rocking with people from other houses, right?"

Henryk’s eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"I’ve got a buddy of mine and his girl. They transferred from Mercury to House Neptune. Only off school grounds can we hang out like this. I know that sounds bad, but he's chill. Had my back in more than a few bar brawls. Emily and Riya? They’re from Earth. All native."

Henryk’s eyes widened further. "They were all born on-world?"

Marcus chuckled. "Yeah. If you're born on Earth, you get special privilege to join the house. Zephyr kicked out a bunch of people last time a new batch came through."

Henryk's eyebrows shot up. "House Mercury just kicks out their guys when truebloods show up?"

"Other houses do similar things. House Mars? A lot of your guys were born on-world. They’ve never accepted outsiders," Marcus explained.

Henryk frowned, the smile fading from his face as they continued walking. "Edward wouldn’t do anything like that."

Marcus’s eyes widened in surprise at Henryk's comment, and Henryk immediately felt a pang of guilt. He knew Zephyr had been slimy for betraying their deal, but Marcus having to work under that and see it firsthand—Henryk couldn't blame him for being bitter.

"Sorry. We good?" Henryk said, raising his fist.

Marcus’s eyes softened, and he smiled again. "We good." He bumped Henryk’s fist with his own.

As they pushed through the brush, Henryk spotted a group of three youths deep in conversation. Two girls... and a boy. His eyes narrowed.

"Simon," Henryk muttered, his tone darkening as the dark-haired youth raised his blue eyes through a curtain of black curls. They locked eyes, Simon’s piercing gaze framed by his glasses, and Henryk could already feel his fist tighten involuntarily.

Henryk II

They were walking out of the park, Simon with his girlfriend, Emily, clinging tightly to his hand. She was small and timid, almost squirrel-like, with glasses perched on her delicate features.

Henryk lagged behind, hands shoved deep into his pockets, bobbing his head to the music booming through the cityscape. They had ventured further uptown, where the high-rise buildings stood tall, passing theaters and shops that were alive with the nightlife. The vibrant energy of the place clashed with the dark thoughts festering in his mind.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

His eyes were locked on the back of Simon’s head, glaring daggers. Simon was a skinny son of a bitch, maybe that’s why Henryk had managed to escape their last encounter without getting his skull cracked. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding against each other as his gaze flicked from Marcus, to Simon’s girlfriend, to the other girl with them. But always, his focus drifted back to Simon. He took in Simon’s polished slacks, dress shoes, the jewelry glinting at his throat—he looked like a threat, one Henryk wouldn’t hesitate to strangle if necessary.

His mind raced, buzzing with thoughts of Oceana II, the lessons he had learned in the grim sewers of that forsaken world. Marcus walked beside Simon, laughing like they were old friends. Was this all just a setup? A ploy to humiliate him, to kick his ass while the girls laughed? His thoughts grew darker, fingers flexing in his pockets. He could end this here and now.

Simon first? Or Marcus? Marcus was stronger, so the element of surprise would help there. But breaking Simon, snapping him like a twig in front of them all—now that would send a message. And swiftly taking down Marcus afterward… Arthur would’ve praised that kind of thinking.

Just then, a car rolled by, music blaring—a heavy, throbbing bass with an Afrobeat rhythm that pulled Henryk out of his spiral. He turned his head, catching a glimpse of the street.

“Hey, what’s your name?” a voice asked beside him.

Henryk blinked, distracted, as the girl walking next to him raised a hand, stopping Marcus mid-sentence.

“Marcus, I wasn’t talking to you.” She turned her attention to Henryk with a soft smile on her face. Warm brown eyes set against smooth, chocolate skin. Her straight hair was tied into two thick pigtails that draped over her chest. She held a beer bottle, casually motioning toward Henryk.

“Henryk,” he said, his voice steady.

Her eyes widened with recognition, the same look he’d seen countless times at the academy. But she smiled, then chuckled. “So, you’re the one causing all that trouble during the first few days,” she teased.

Marcus sighed, waving his hand dismissively. “Iman, come on, don’t tease him like that. I doubt he’s in the mood to talk about it.”

“Oh, I bet,” she replied with a grin. “Say what you will, but I was assigned to Piper’s unit. You really wrecked things up in Oceana. It was… heroic, watching you guys out there. Inspiring, even.”

“O-oh,” Henryk stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to hide the blush creeping up his face. “It’s, uh… cool.”

Iman giggled at his awkwardness, and Henryk found himself smiling despite the tension in his chest. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Still, his gaze drifted warily toward Simon and his girlfriend, Emily. He’d need to keep an eye on them.

“Marcus,” Simon finally spoke, breaking his silence as they walked. “We’re here.”

Henryk looked ahead, his eyes widening. The building was old, worn, and had a cryptic, almost haunting presence. People were crowding around the entrance, either trying to get in or being unceremoniously kicked out. The smell of herb and alcohol wafted through the air as they passed the bustling crowd.

“Man, when was the last time you came here, Marcus?” Simon asked.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Probably the week before that last mission…”

“You bringing your DJ gear?” asked Emma, Simon’s girlfriend, her curly brown hair bouncing with every step.

Marcus cocked his head toward Henryk. “He’s the music guy.”

“Music boy,” Simon chuckled, the comment casual but condescending.

His girlfriend joined in with a soft laugh, and Iman was still smiling. But Henryk’s expression tightened. “Production major, actually,” he corrected, his tone clipped.

“You done any parties?” Simon asked, his voice light but probing.

Henryk smirked. “DJ’d for a couple of my sister’s birthday parties,” he replied, crossing his arms as his smirk grew wider. “Oh, I’m just itching to get in there,” he added, his eyes flicking toward the club. “So, this is where you all come to party, huh?”

Iman’s eyes widened, her voice dropping to a soft, aimless mumble. “Such... annoyance,” she muttered dejectedly, almost to herself, the words trailing off into the crowd.

Simon pulled his girlfriend, Emily, closer by the shoulder, casting a wary glance at Henryk. “Marcus... this place has actual cred. I don’t want to get booted out because Henryk’s going to be a drag.”

Marcus waved it off. “Relax. He’s got the skills. Say what you will about music as a profession, but the academy’s got the best of the best.”

As they neared the entrance, Marcus leaned in closer to Simon. “What’s your deal, Simon? Henryk’s chill. I know he’s from House Mars, but he’s an offworlder. There shouldn’t be any problems, right?”

Simon’s mind raced. If Marcus found out the truth... if Emma found out. He had kept his distance, stayed quiet, but how could they ever understand? How could Piper understand?

“No problem,” Simon answered quickly, keeping his tone analytical, detached. “I just... I just miss Lucas.”

Marcus seemed satisfied, his thoughts already elsewhere as they stepped into the club’s dimly lit interior. The scent of alcohol and weed hit them like a wall, mingling with the heavy heat of the crowded room. Neon lights flickered in rhythmic flashes, and bodies swayed to the pulse of the music.

At first, Henryk felt a wave of anxiety creeping in, being so far outside his usual space. But he was out of his academy colors—anonymous in the throng. And when that smooth, jazzy funk started to play, he couldn’t help himself. His body reacted, head bobbing to the beat, arms moving in sync.

“Oh damn, you’ve got moves,” Iman whispered, eyes gleaming with surprise. Henryk grinned, throwing his head back as he two-stepped, quick and precise, following the beat with practiced ease. Iman laughed, joining him as they weaved through the crowd, letting the music absorb them.

Even Simon, for a moment, seemed to forget his concerns, grabbing Emily’s hand and leading her into the dance. Marcus watched them all, relief softening his features, but his hand slid into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He frowned at the screen—17 unread messages from Margaret, seven missed calls—but quickly shoved it back, forcing a smile as he bobbed his head to the music.

“When’s your set?” Henryk asked, breaking away from Iman, though her warm brown eyes lingered on him, her movements never faltering as she kept dancing. It was almost as if she could see something special in him, something the stars themselves might admire.

“Your set?” Marcus chuckled, pointing at Henryk. “Nah, man, our set. Like Simon said, Lucas was our DJ.”

Henryk’s eyes widened. “Wait, you were serious about that?” He stopped dancing, the carefree energy draining from his movements.

Marcus tried to laugh it off, but Henryk wasn’t letting it slide. “Marcus, the only DJ experience I’ve got is spinning tracks at little girls’ princess parties, man,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t you tell me this was the reason you wanted me here? You planned this the whole time, didn’t you?”

Marcus sighed, his grin fading. “Nah, man, honestly... I haven’t been in the right headspace lately. But you’re right, I should’ve told you. I just... I wanted to chill tonight, and back when me and Lucas helped you out in that duel, we both thought you were really cool.”

Henryk III

The stage wasn’t raised on a deck but set flat on the floor, with people packed tightly around the DJ setup. Marcus clutched the microphone, the crowd still buzzing with drunken energy. Surrounding him were Iman, Simon, Emma, and Henryk, though Henryk hadn’t yet taken his place at the DJ set. They faced the possibility of either picking someone random from the crowd or suffering the embarrassment of a failed set. Marcus, a joint tucked between his fingers, looked ready to freestyle through it.

“Yo, it’s that boy, MARCUS!” the announcer hollered, and the crowd exploded with excitement. Marcus grinned wide, basking in the cheers. Iman screamed next to him, her voice high-pitched and full of enthusiasm.

“Oh my god, Marcus, you’re so awesome!” she shouted, and the crowd echoed her, the room vibrating with energy.

Marcus, a little unsteady, coughed into the mic, momentarily silencing the crowd. “Yeah, y-yeah...,” he stammered, trying to regain his rhythm. “Yeah, yeah, yeah...,” he muttered as a slow beat began to pulse from the speakers.

“Oh god, he’s gonna bomb,” Simon muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Iman's eyes flicked toward Henryk, as if silently urging him to do something. Henryk stared at the eager crowd, then back at Marcus—guilt and tension radiating from him. He couldn’t let Marcus, a guy this chill, get embarrassed in front of everyone. This was the most fun he’d had since arriving at the academy. It felt like a real, normal party, a break from all the intensity.

Making a decision, Henryk pushed his way toward the DJ set. Iman’s eyes lit up, her lips curling into a knowing smile as she followed him. The music began to shift as Henryk’s hands found the pads and disks of the equipment, twisting the sound into something more atmospheric, the beat taking a deeper, richer tone. Marcus’s eyes widened, his earlier tension melting away as he caught Henryk’s smile.

“Just need to get the volume and vibe right,” Henryk said, turning toward Iman, though he caught Marcus’s appreciative smirk.

“Man… fuck this,” Henryk muttered, pulling out his phone. He eyed the white wire attached to the console and connected his phone to it, maneuvering through his files.

“What are you doing?” Iman asked, curious.

“Playing some of my stuff,” Henryk said with a cocky grin as he took control of the setup.

“Marcus, give me thirty seconds!” Henryk shouted as the music started loading. He adjusted the volume, testing the buttons. “Okay, okay, this is just like Jennie’s rig during her tenth birthday,” he mused.

The beat kicked in—heavy, yet uplifting, with spacey, atmospheric elements. It immediately transfixed the drugged-out crowd, and when the beat dropped, everyone’s heart seemed to skip a beat.

“Whoa… shit,” Marcus laughed aloud. “This is fucking great!”

Henryk started bobbing his head, getting a feel for how the machine and music flowed together. The crowd was feeling it too, and Marcus began rapping, syncing perfectly with the beat.

Iman’s eyes gleamed, her gaze locked on Henryk’s face as he smiled, turning toward her. “You’re gonna like the next one.”

“Oh really?” Iman chuckled, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear.

The rap concluded, leaving everyone breathless, but the next beat hit—faster, more intense. The vocals soared with it. “Yo Henryk, turn that shit up!” someone from the crowd shouted, and Henryk obliged. The dance floor lit up again.

Henryk, sweat beading on his forehead, manned the controls while Iman danced. Her voice—it was beautiful. But Henryk was smiling, lost in the moment, drunk on the energy. He stepped away from the console, the music still booming, and began to dance, raising his hands up and down. Iman matched his moves, laughing as they danced together, her movements fluid and confident.

“Oh, I bet you’re a real square,” Henryk teased, circling her.

“I don’t do anything special like this, music boy,” she replied with a playful smirk. “But I can see why Piper’s so fixated on you.”

She moved closer, pressing her body against him, her rear brushing against his crotch as she grinded on him. The stars he’d seen earlier reflected in her eyes, and Henryk’s hands instinctively went to her waist, the beat of the music pulsing through them both.

“Am I still a square?” she whispered, a dangerous gleam in her eyes as she looked up at him, her caramel fingertips grazing his chin.

She twerked against him, and Henryk grinned ear to ear, feeling giddy. Across the room, Marcus danced with a girl, but he spared a glance toward them, his eyes widening when he saw Iman throwing it back on Henryk. Marcus laughed, then turned to see Simon and his girlfriend dancing passionately.

Henryk slipped his hand into Iman’s, leading her onto the dance floor. She let go of him, giving him space, and Henryk began to dance. The crowd parted for him as his rhythm spoke for itself. He was on fire, alive in the moment, and everything else—the academy, the stress, the bad memories—faded away.

The girl, the party, the friends… Wasn’t this what school was supposed to be about? For the first time in a long while, he felt like he truly belonged, far from home but finally at peace.