The room stayed the same. The mp flickered, and the ceiling stared back at me with its rough wooden eyes.

  Sometimes I heard footsteps outside, but they always went away.

  It felt like I was watching a theatrical py of my own life, but the py was boring, and the screen was covered in thick grey fog.

  Eventually, my tummy started to hurt. Not the bad hurt, just the empty kind.

  I had to move.

  I pushed myself up, and my body groaned.

  It felt like my bones were made of heavy stones that remembered being broken.

  I saw bck spots dancing in my eyes, but I didn't get scared.

  I just waited. Everything was about waiting now.

  The porridge was cold and had a weird skin on top.

  I stared at it for a long time, looking for steam that wasn't there anymore. Then, I ate.

  Scoop. Chew. Swallow.

  It didn't taste like anything. It was just warm and wet. But when it hit my belly, a little bit of heat spread into my chest.

  My shoulders stopped being so tight. My hands stopped shaking.

  But the heavy thing in my chest stayed. It wasn't a pain you could put a bandage on.

  It was just... big. So big it didn't have a name.

  I put the bowl down and y back into the dark.

  I tried to keep my head empty.

  If I thought too much, the pictures came back. And the pictures hurt.

  I fell into the sleep that feels like drowning.

  ***

  In my head, I heard it again.

  Grind.

  Scrape.

  The sound of a heavy stone door.

  I was back in the Cave of Honor.

  It smelled like smoke and that penny-taste of blood. I turned around, and there he was.

  "Frans..."

  He was standing there, smiling at me.

  I felt so happy I thought I would pop.

  But then I saw his eyes.

  He was crying, even though his mouth was still smiling.

  Behind him, big scary men in armor came out of the shadows like monsters.

  I tried to run to him.

  Help him.

  Pull him away.

  But the floor turned into sticky mud.

  My feet wouldn't move.

  "Run," Frans whispered. His voice was everywhere, like the wind.

  The men raised their shiny swords.

  I tried to scream for him, to tell him I wouldn't leave, but my throat was broken. No sound came out.

  SLAM.

  The door shut. I was on one side. He was on the other. The noise echoed and echoed until it was the only thing left in the world.

  ***

  I woke up gasping for air.

  The ceiling was back. The mp was still there.

  I was squeezing my bnket so hard my fingers turned white.

  I didn't know where I was for a second, and the cave felt more real than the bed.

  I waited for the scary feeling to go away. It didn't go away because I was brave.

  It just leaked out of me like water from a cracked cup.

  Soon, I was empty again.

  I looked at my hands. They felt like a puppet's hands, moving a little bit slower than I told them to.

  "...Ah."

  My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.

  Days went by. Maybe years?

  I couldn't tell.

  Wake up, eat, sleep.

  Over and over.

  People came in to fix my bandages, but their faces were just blurs.

  I was getting better on the outside, the stings went away, and I could stand up straight, but the inside of me was still stuck in that cave.

  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the door closing.

  I saw Frans crying.

  I heard Mother calling me from a pce I couldn't find. After a while, the nightmares didn't even make me jump anymore.

  They were just... what sleep was.

  One morning, the sun hit my face. It was pretty.

  The dust in the air looked like tiny, floating stars.

  I felt light. I sat up and saw it.

  On my chest, there was a tattoo.

  It was a bunch of swirling lines that pulsed like a quiet heart.

  It was full of magic. I saw a tiny string of light coming out of it, stretching through the air.

  I tried to touch the light, but my finger went right through.

  "...So this is the brand..."

  I wasn't even mad. I just knew. I couldn't run away. The string would always find me.

  But it didn't matter. I had nowhere to go anyway.

  ***

  I put on the clothes they left for me and walked out. The floorboards went creak, creak.

  Downstairs, a man was waiting.

  He had bck hair and looked rexed, leaning against the wall.

  He had a grey glow around him, like a soft cloud of smoke.

  "Hello, kid. I'm Spiro Assombrir. What's your name?"

  Assombrir. I remembered my Dad talking about that name once.

  It felt like a memory from a different life.

  "I'm Rick Avenir."

  "So you're the one," he smiled. "Master told me to train you."

  "I see," I said. It was the only thing I knew how to say.

  We went outside. The air was fresh, and the grass was green, but it didn't feel real. It felt like a painting I wasn't allowed to touch.

  "I need to be stronger," I told him. I didn't say it loud. I just needed it to be true.

  If I were strong, maybe the heavy thing in my chest would get smaller.

  "...Your cn," I asked. "Were they saved too?"

  Spiro looked away. "Thirty-seven of us. Master got there in time."

  He looked back at me, his eyes getting soft. "But for a lot of people... we were too te. Like you."

  "I see."

  We walked to a field where other kids were. Some were ughing. Some were staying still.

  The sound of the ughter made me freeze.

  It felt wrong.

  It was too loud, too bright.

  For a second, I saw my own vilge again—kids running, Mama calling us for dinner. Then the picture popped like a bubble.

  I watched them being happy, and a thought grew inside the empty part of me.

  It wasn't a hot, angry thought. It was cold, like ice.

  One day, I'm going to find the Emperor. And I'm going to kill him.

  Not because I'm mad.

  But because I don't have anything else left to do.