Last stop is the King's courtroom. Come on now, Mr. Caddel."

Parzifal, though stoic, was pushing along the introductions quickly. He couldn't blame him, not after a full day of scurrying people along and preparing for the brawl. He was a busy man, no doubt, but Mordecai could tell his patience left him long ago.

"Alright." Parzifal opened the door. "In you go."

Mordecai rolled his shoulders back and sewed on a smile as he stepped into the presence of King Charles.

He didn't need an extravagant room to know he was noble. It was held in his presence, in the way his eyes narrowed in focus and his face softened with a personable smile. Intimidating, yet only in a way for others to look in awe, in desire.

"Ah, Mordecai Caddel. It's my pleasure."

He bowed. "The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty."

King Charles lifted a hand in a shooing motion. "Spare me the pleasantries, young hero. My fascination goes beyond any formal conversation. I'd like to hear your mind."

He caught the shift in the King and sensed the bored introductions he'd been receiving all day. So, he smiled. "My mind says that Parzifal is looking forward to a drink or two tonight."

A hearty laugh came from the King as he leaned forward. "Huh, is that so! He's had a long day, I'm sure. A treasured friend, he is."

"He's a good man," Mordecai nodded. "Crestienne, too. And the brothers. You have their trust. It is admirable."

"Their trust is all I've ever desired. We've come a long way."

"Nuhan is grateful for it, I promise you."

King Charles smiled before leaning back again, his leg crossed over the other. "Nuhan is also great because of people like you. Tell me, Mordecai, how far can your magic go?"

"As far as you'll allow, Your Majesty."

He hummed. "Dare I ask the future of my Kingdom?"

He nodded in response, preparing for his exact question. Silas had helped him; straighten up, close his eyes, slow breathing, and exaggerate. Make the magic untouchable by others. Show them how badly they need him.

With his body displayed for the King's intrigued eyes, he dug into his mind, searching through visions. He wouldn't admit it, but it was more difficult to search for futures that were not his own. Practice with Silas helped, but it was not perfect. Still, he saw many outcomes, pushing past fleeting negative ones, searching for the ones King Charles needed to see.

"I see a prosperous land. A future of fortune. A hero alongside you."

"And who is that hero?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would I?"

A satisfied smile beamed from the King's lips. "I truly do wish for your success, Mordecai. Your futuristic mind is magnificent. I'd like to see more of it."

"This mind is yours to prod through if you desire."

"I will accept your offer if I end up seeing you by my side in a week's time."

I probably won't be here. "That is a promise, Your Majesty."

It was partly true, because although he saw a fortunate future, the ones where Mordecai stood alongside him were few and far between. With every image of him holding the title of a hero, dozens of futures of death and despair came with it.

"Well, I look forward to watching your mastermind at work tomorrow. Farewell, young hero."

Mordecai bowed again before bidding his goodbye. As he walked toward the exit, his eyes rested on the large door full of complex and colorful designs. Swirls and shapes of statues he didn't recognize stared back at him. Maybe they were beautiful, but he could only feel a foreign presence. It was beyond the door, beyond the Kingdom walls. It was what he was about to do, the journey his life would endure. Down in the dark in the dungeons below, facing gods know what for a title that would never fit him anyway.

No blue sea, no setting his mind always dreamed of.

He would be awfully far from home.

*

"Keep it movin' Mordy. Get a pep in that step—come on now."

The tip of Odette's blade against his back was the one keeping the pace, and she knew that. Every time Mordecai slowed down, the sharp end would get a taste of skin through his shirt. But too fast of steps and she would swing the blade to come across his chest, graciously offering a warning. Odette wanted perfect.

He didn't care to give it to her, though. "I told you I'm not going to do anything. This is pointless."

"A few hours ago was a different story, huh? You do something idiotic, you receive the same treatment. Go fucking figure."

"You have my weapons."

"I don't have your mind, now, do I?" she scoffed as she pushed the blade forward to give him a boost.

There was no winning, not with Odette. After the attempted attack, which ended as quickly as it began, she showed no more mercy. They walked through the dungeon, all scrolls in her possession, with a live sacrifice at her disposal.

It felt like the end. He could see it, too. But no matter now how hopeless, how frightening, there was a seed of anger planted inside him. Anger for the loss of meaning in all of this; all of the death he saw would ultimately be for nothing. The end of Mordecai was the end of Rune, then Maeve. And maybe Odette would end as well, from another hand who would only carry the same burden.

"I saved you." he gritted his teeth as he kept his steps steady.

"And I spared you."

"Not for long. Until the next beast, I'm guessing."

"Bingo."

Her wit and casual tone only set him off more. "Some Captain you are."

Her blade retracted, satisfied with the pace. "Sacrificing one life for the sake of Nuhan and its citizens? Sounds fair. I'm the best Captain around. Besides, didn't you have your line of sacrifices with those so-called allies? Seems like you're projecting—"

"Maeve died on her own accord," he blurted. Neither of them shared their journey in the dungeons, but rage and hurt burned into him, pressing into his throat until the words slipped. "She died for Rune and I—I barely knew her. I don't even know why she did it. I don't know."

Quiet, for once. No talkback nor second opinion. Just room for words.

"Rune didn't care. Didn't even mourn. I stayed with her knowing the intention she had. She didn't care about Maeve, and she wouldn't care about me. And I just—I just let that feeling sit and stir in both of us. If I didn't do what I did to her, it—"

It what? It would kill him? Wasn't the girl who yearned for freedom more deserving of life than the boy who locked himself inside his mind? Wasn't she? Wasn't he not?

The path circled inward, like the pattern he caught before. The curve was more prominent than before. Time here was dwindling.

"Forgive me, Mordy," Odette spoke quietly, like mini waves puttering against the shoreline. "Forgive me one last time."

But the blade returning to his back sliced away any senseless words she could spew. In Rune, there was regret and remorse for her actions. In Odette, there was only a space to fill until her success.

"You know, you're right. I do still have my mind. Care to listen to some of your outcomes?"

"Oh, don't fucking start with me, Mordy. Seriously."

He focused as floods of visions flowed through the veins of his mind, images of Odette piecing themselves together in multiple futures. He would never admit it to her, but most were good. A future of recognition by the Kingdom of Nuhan, prospering alongside the King and his graces. A hero. He saw a hero in many outcomes.

Not those, he thought, the pressure physically pushing his brain as pictures altered. Bad ones. Show me misery.

And they were there, sparingly, but alive and possible. He would take possible.

"Unfortunate, some of them," Mordecai ignored the blade as it dug a little too deep. "You do go down with the ship, Captain."

"I don't want to hear your goddamn future fantasies—"

"Death, for starters. I see it here, in these walls. Not by my hand but from something much, much less forgiving."

He could feel her anger, and it only fueled his own. If she was going to treat him as bait, he would attack with what he could. He dug deeper.

"In a few scenarios, your cutlass betrays you. Gruesome images. More blood than you'd think—"

"I'm not fucking playing around, Mordy. Stop."

"Let's say you do make it out of here. You're Nuhan's beloved hero. Except you feel awfully trapped under the people's stares. You're the King's public puppet. You won't make it to sea for months to come. Hell, not at all."

Again, her comments faded. The blade lowered a little.

"Hero replaces the Captain." Mordecai stopped to catch a glance. "One pathetic title to another."

As their eyes settled, the lasting image ignited every nerve in his mind. One like needles seeping into any small surface they could, poking at the vision, reviving it back to life. It deserved to be kept in the depths of this dungeon, but Mordecai used the only weapon he could.

"Oh yeah, and who is Yurie? That's the name you're standing in front of at the cemetery..."

"Stop."

"...and I see you weeping at their grave."

A forceful push connected with his back as his side hit the wall, his shoulder slapping against the stone. Though his vision was jarred, he could see Odette approaching him, her hand secured around her cutlass. She might just kill me now, he thought, but she only stabbed the blade into the ground as she looked down.

"You really need to learn when to shut the fuck up."

"Who was that, Captain? And why are they dead?"

"Get up."

"You think I see fantasies?" he managed a glare through the shock of the hit. Anger was his key to adrenaline. "I see your fate, Captain. Hero."

As Odette took a step forward, Mordecai pushed himself back, and a click of a door opened behind him.

Both paused as the stone-like door creaked open an inch. Without him physically pushing it open, he didn't think they'd be able to see the door that blended in so well. As they both stared through the opening, a thick greyed smoke swirled through. Mordecai immediately shut the door, the smoke rising as it vanished.

Smoke. Why smoke? Why the platform that succumbed in the sea? Why the dragon full of fire? Why was Cain so alive in everything that killed him?

"You're up, Mordy." Odette helped him to his feet. "Get the scroll."

That'll suffocate me, he thought. He knew. If the fire couldn't touch him, smoke would do the damage. The fire ended Cain, and smoke followed Mordecai. He could never escape.

Odette made sure of it. With a swift twist on the knob, she shoved him into the room, the door quickly shutting against his back. Out of all the times he ran away from the smoke, there he was, trapped in the middle of it all.

But his lungs did not feel like fire. As his heart rate exceeded past levels he never thought it could, his heavy breathing felt steady and strong. He could feel the small coat of smoke pile on his tongue, his throat, and chest, but he breathed easily. He walked through it, waiting for the next beast to form behind the shadows.

He wouldn't win this. Not alone. There was no guidance from another, no direction except for his visions that seemed to appear too late. He couldn't focus with the smoke and the blindness that shielded any time he could spare preparing for the beast.

But the outline that appeared feet from him was no size of a monster.

He slowly inched forward, bringing the shadow to life. The image was familiar, but no guess would compare to who he saw standing before him.

"I'm not giving my scroll away as easily this time."

Her voice was no different, but it hadn't been long since he last heard from her. Only a few days, he realized, and it was only a few days before that since he met those icy blue eyes for the first time. She stood, the scroll secured under her arm with a stance so poised, so steady. She would not be swayed, not this time.

Rune raised an eyebrow as she eyed him up and down. "You look...like shit."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, though part of his mind knew this wasn't real. Not entirely, at least. Although her physical being was alike, it was her soul that was brought back to life.

"Well, you need this." she waved the scroll back and forth. "But I don't think you deserve it."

"Look, I'm—I'm sorry."

"Oh, you're sorry?" the laugh was hers and mechanical all at once. "And you're expecting forgiveness? For killing me?"

"You were going to kill me—"

"Oh, but I didn't, did I?"

No. She didn't. Mordecai took that burden to live with. He basked in the sin that burned him alive. Which was worse?

The smoke outlined the two, moving as they shifted their stance. Rune was glowing amongst the dulled grey surrounding her. Untouched. Perfect. He never realized how heavy her soul was, how it pushed her shoulders down and dragged her feet.

"How'd you do it?" Mordecai's hands were trembling. "You've killed many. How do you live with that?"

She only shrugged. "The same way you are now."

And maybe that was only fair. Comfort was a luxury they couldn't have anymore. But Rune found beauty and power in the misery. He could too, but there was no time to waste.

"I need that scroll, Rune."

"Then take it."

Although weaponless, courtesy of Odette, he jumped forward to attack his old ally.

Smoke danced around them as they moved, raising fists and using their bodies to knock each other down. Rune was stronger, but there was a different kind of power in Mordecai. One that kept him alert even as he was kicked, punched, and shoved.

"Rune, please."

A fist connected with his rib, leaving both of them in shock from the pain. Rune retracted her fist as he took a step back, hovering his hand over his torso in a weak attempt to protect himself.

"Give it up," she spoke, readjusting the scroll in the pocket of her jacket. "I'm not letting you win this time."

"You already got your revenge." Because every moment I'm alive is a constant reminder. Your revenge is forever, Rune.

"I'm not satisfied."

She lunged forward, hands against his shoulders as they both fell to the floor. She easily placed herself over him; her knees pressed around his body, and she put her weight on her arms as she pushed them onto his shoulders. He attempted to move but Rune's technique was strong. She was a fighter—trained to fight, to kill...

"Rune! Rune, please." he heaved a heavy sigh. "Please. Just—understand me."

She paused, just long enough for him to push further.

"Understand me the way you wished others would to you."

"I don't need understanding."

"Your life," he began, fighting his lungs as his breath shortened from the pressure. "Your life was taken away. A Barbarian they've made you."

"My life was my own—"

"They forced you to kill. That's not—that's not you. It never was. I see it, Rune. In your eyes, in your trembling hands. I saw it. I saw that in you when you were going to kill me. I saw every scenario and witnessed every regret on your face. You couldn't hide that from me."

Sea-blue eyes stared, slightly glossed over as her shoulders released some tension. He watched as they darted back and forth to both his eyes, searching for the lies, the deceit.

"That's not your title. You don't have to be known for that. All your life you tried to escape from it when—it was never you. I understand you."

Although her head shook back and forth, her body relaxed with each short breath. He caught a glimpse of the scroll moving an inch, exposing from her pocket. He twitched his arm slightly, testing the reaction, but Rune was fixated on his words.

"So, please—understand me, Rune. Give me understanding."

Her mouth opened yet the words clung onto her throat. Mordecai had never seen brighter eyes as tears made the blue glow. Her hands slowly released from his shoulders. She looked through him, dazed and unguarded.

Understand me, he begged as his hand slowly reached into her pocket. Know that these actions are led by sins greater than I could ever control.

As the scroll transferred into his hands and completely out of Rune's grasp, she disappeared.

There was no slow vanish or piece left behind. The pressure from her weight on his body was released. The scroll was in his hand and she was gone.

Smoke filled the spaces, once again entering his lungs for a second coat. He stood up slowly, his arms stretched outward in an attempt to feel his way around. It was done. He had brought ruin upon her a second time all for his gain. And he'd probably do it again if he had to.

"G-get me out," he spoke into the greyed thickness. "I have it—get me out. Please."

The more he walked the more disoriented he felt. He tried to reach a wall, but his stretched hand felt nothing. How big was the room? He should've paid more attention when the smoke outlines him and Rune. Or maybe she knew a way out. Of course she would...

Not real, he thought. Not fully real, at least. Impossible. She's gone. That wasn't—

"My love."

The dark smoke disappeared around him as he took a step forward, obeying his silent command. Dark eyes have never looked so lively, but his smile remained the same. The same smile from the day they first met until the very last. Cain's smile burned brighter than any fire could.

Mordecai wasted no time as he wrapped his arms around Cain's torso, digging his head into his chest where he fit so perfectly. Home. Not Kingdom walls, no title, no new faces. He was home. This was home.

"I have your last scroll, lovely." He could feel his smile above him. "Best for last, yeah?"

"Wait, Cain." He pulled away, wide eyes meeting calm ones like the slow wake at sea. "The frame—the one we never hung up? Silas visited and, well, he tried to hang it up, but I told him we never did because—well because we just never did. But he tried to hang it up anyway and then he dropped it and it shattered. I put it back where it was, and Silas said we'd fix it. Oh shit, we never fixed it. He said we would, but we ran out of time. No, we had time—we could've fixed it, but we didn't. I told him it needed to be fixed—"

"Mordecai."

"I'll fix it. I will."

A laugh—quiet, but genuine. Real. "That photo was only a conversation starter. That's all it ever was. Remember?"

He did remember. Their first break at work and the handsome stranger broke the silence with the mention of the photo not being hung up despite the nails over the walls. They laughed a little. And then conversation struck between the two ever since then.

"It served its purpose," Cain's grin never ceased. "It got me to you."

And now you're gone. But gods, did he feel real. All the monsters he faced lacked in comparison to the pain he felt now. He wanted to stay there forever with him, to be stuck in the bubble where the smoke would keep everyone else away. Nobody could touch them there.

"But here," Cain extended the scroll toward him. "You need to take this, and fast."

"Wait, no!" He stepped back, pinning his hands behind him. "Don't let go of that!"

"Please take it, love."

"I think you'll d-disappear if you let go of it, Cain. You need—you just can't let go of it."

He only shook his head as he took a step forward, closing in the gap. Their lips met, and Mordecai sunk himself into the bliss, closing his eyes as the images that were once blocked by Cain's death come alive again. Oh, how he missed those. Glimpses into the faithful future where he and Cain loved and lived.

Future fantasies, Odette said. And maybe they were. He'd fantasized forever, then.

"I want to go with you."

"Mordecai, you have to go—"

"Home. Bring me back with you. Please."

The title and importance were never his goals, he realized. It wasn't to prove himself or showcase his power. It wasn't to be noticed by the King or looked up to by others in Nuhan. It was only the in-between of foreign lands until he reached home. And he could feel the journey's end.

"Cain, bring me home." he clenched his jaw between quick kisses. "I don't want to be here anymore. Just—fuck. Please."

He froze as Cain grabbed his chin. It was a move he did often, either to get his attention or trap him with kisses or playfully pinch his cheeks. He knew what it meant this time as he rose his face upward to look him in the eyes. The smile he always wore disappeared behind his lips.

"Do me a favor, okay? For me."

You deserved so much more. "I knew about the accident, Cain. I felt it. Something horrible. And I didn't do anything about it. You died and I—it could've been prevented."

"I've already forgiven you, love. A thousand times over." he kept his fingers tight around his chin. "You already carry the burden of loving me still. Let go of it. That's all I ask of you."

If that was all he would ask, Mordecai promised to fulfill it. He nodded under his lover's grasp, eyes blurred from tears and swirls of smoke.

And then he felt the sharp end of the cutlass strike, stabbing deep into his stomach.

Through a quickened breath his eyes darted down, staring at the blade that settled right through Cain's body and halfway into his own. Their blood soaked the blade as it retracted, bright amongst the smoke that started to travel around them, cutting their connection.

"Forgive me, Mordy." Odette's face appeared behind Cain, her eyes dazed but movements purposeful. "One last time. Forgive me."

Cain leaned forward, sputtering red as he breathed through bloodied lungs. The scroll shook in his hand as he lifted it to Mordecai's chest.

"G-get to the door. Go, l-love. Go."

Cain guided him to the side with a push, likely creating space between them and Odette. And as the scroll secured itself against him, Cain disappeared into the ashes.

"That scroll. Give it to me, dammit." Odette's voice muffled as the space between them filled with smoke. "Mordy, come on—come on, where are you?"

He fell to his knees as his chest bubbled with blood, dripping from his stomach and coating his throat. Go, he repeated Cain's order with every inch he moved forward. He would never falter against his words, his promise. Get to the door. Go.

"That cuts too deep, Mordy." her voice surrounded him. "You can't do this on your own. Just—ah fuck, where are you? Fuck!"

Mordecai moved forward, holding in his gasps as he half choked on his blood. His elbows slid as his feet kicked, fueling him with the last of their energy. His hand crumpled the scrolls as he pressed them against his heart. He couldn't let Odette take them. He couldn't let her steal what Rune and Cain died for.

Though for the very first time, his mind stilled. No future visions or scenarios played in his head as he continued to move. No horrid endings or secretive hints. It was—present. Quiet.

He lifted his head as the stone wall changed to a lighter shade. He followed the new texture, eyes tracing upward as hues of light grays and blues moved like waves, lines intercepting and decorating a portrait of land and sea.

There it was.

Mordecai smiled, and then he sobbed as the image on the door was finally coming to life. The water, the topsail, the smoke rising from the nearby fire where he and Cain sat together. The final image his mind forever dreamed of was painted in front of him, plastered on the door.

That was home.

With the lasting amount of spirit his body held, he raised an arm, hand fastened around the knob.

And the doors opened to the sea.