With a sudden flash that rattled the insides of his head, the light went out. Yet, amidst the devouring darkness, the tall pale youth could see everything.

Light belonged to the rich and the powerful, and as Aegis was neither, darkness had been his companion for as long as he could remember—which hadn't actually been that long. Aegis' earliest memory was waking up on the floor, squashed between scores of other slaves in white garbs, barely a year ago.

Who had been before then was just as much a mystery to him.

But Aegis wasn't bothered by the sudden darkness. As he stood inside the small, boarded greenhouse, he was far more interested at the figure across him.

A single lamp fizzed and smoked, barely outlining someone of similar height to Aegis. He had no idea if the person was a man or woman. They were draped in a white armour similar to one the peacekeeping Hanshö—the royal guardians of the palace—wore.

Only this stranger also had headgear on, one that looked like a hood combined with a closely meshed metal mask.

Aegis raised a single white envelope. It was a small, blank rectangle with a broken wax seal. It was also same letter that had mysteriously been left in his garden only a few hours ago. The same letter that had led him here to this figure in the shadows.

When Aegis had first spotted the letter in the early hours of the morning, he had assumed the letter wasn't meant for him. He was a slave after all, and slaves couldn't read or write—or at least most slaves couldn't.

Aegis knew very well he wasn't like most slaves and it had little to do with his mysterious amnesia. For one he was literate. He had known about his secret literacy since he had first glanced at the holographic panel that helped him tend to the vegetation in his garden.

While the man training him—the head gardener, had told Aegis not to worry about the scratches and to remember the colours, the 'scratches' made sense to him. The blue line was labelled "water," the brown line, "fertiliser," and every other colour had the same label the gardener told him. Whatever had impacted his memory hadn't taken away his ability to read and more surprisingly, write.

Aegis had learned more than how to tend to the garden that day. He learned that no other slave could read, let alone write. They were also bizarrely content with never knowing how to.

So when he had finally mustered the courage to break open the seal this morning, he knew the letter was meant for him. Not just because he could read, but because of its contents ... of what it promised.

Answers.

So he had let the instructions lead him right here. To this figure. The figure that had somehow rid the room of it's only light source without lifting a finger.

"You know me?" Aegis raised his eyebrows as he broke the silence. He wasn't a slave right now, he wasn't bound by the laws of the palace. Right now, Aegis didn't even care why the figure behind the mesh mask had been silent. The letter had promised that he would know who he really was, and that was all he cared about.

"I know of you," the stranger corrected, his voice flat.

This person also sounded quite muffled from behind the mesh mask. And even though Aegis couldn't see his face, there was an uncanny familiarity in the voice.

Aegis assumed that this shadowed benefactor was most likely male, or at least sounded like one. He had seen slaves that sounded like that even though they looked more feminine.

That wasn't the important bit though. The figure had said that they knew of Aegis, not that they knew him. Whoever they were, this person wasn't someone from his past.

"What happened to me?" Aegis asked next, holding his head as high as he could. It was a precaution, he wanted to be spoken to like an equal and the garbs he wore, the white garbs that all slaves donned, prevented him from being seen.

At all.

Slaves were like vermin to the rich folk in the palace. They were best hidden out of sight and mind. But it was exactly why he held himself the way he did.

It was exactly why wanting to know what happened to him was so important to him. It wasn't just something that Aegis had been wondering since the day he awoke in the slave house. Somehow it felt even more important than who he had been. Not that Aegis didn't want to know who he was, but his most pressing question wasn't 'who,' it was 'how' and 'why.'

"I'll tell you everything," the stranger promised as they drew a thin sword from a scabbard Aegis had failed to see. At least until it was too late. If this masked shadow was going to stab him they'd be in for a royal treat very soon.

Aegis didn't move, he didn't flinch either. He had a secret, one that would protect him. It wasn't the one on his forehead hidden under the mass of white hair. No, this was his special secret, one that he had never spoken of.

One that no one would believe.

He watched the figure in white approach him, sword in hand, and he sneered. But the stranger didn't hurt Aegis. They didn't even raise their sword. Instead, they turned the hilt of the sword towards him, "If you can land one scratch on me."

"What?" Aegis blinked, far too taken aback by the anticlimactic turn of events to register what this person had really said.

"I'll tell you everything if you can land a single scratch on me," they repeated and then nudged the sword towards Aegis' hand.

"Are you going to kill me?" Aegis wondered aloud, it seemed far too elaborate a plan to kill him. But it wasn't something unheard of.

When Aegis had first awoken in the slave house, everyone avoided him. Even if he had gotten used to it a year later, he was never going to forget the how the isolation had originally made him feel.

Like a monster.

Part of it was because of the secret under the mass of hair that covered not just his scalp, but also most of his forehead. No one else had that secret on their forehead, no one else talked about it.

Also, it wasn't just that none of the other slaves would speak to him. Aegis had begun to notice things about himself that day, things he had decided were to be kept a secret because everyone else seemed so ... normal.

In fact, he only knew he was a slave called Aegis because he was told so by a kinder, fellow slave. The only person that would speak to him. He had been told later—in the strictest confidence—by the same kind slave that the day he woke up was the first time any of them had seen him.

That was the last time Aegis ever saw the kind slave. He had never come to the giant hall to sleep that night, and he was certain he hadn't missed him. There was only one door in and out of the sleeping hall, and Aegis never slept—ever.

That day Aegis had learned a very important lesson. Wherever this was, it was his prison.

So if this man in the mesh mask had brought Aegis all the way here to be killed, it wouldn't surprise him at all.

The figure didn't share Aegis' grim sentiments, however. Instead, they hung their masked head back and laughed quite loudly, making Aegis flush, "Seems a bit pointless to drag you all the way here after the curfew just to kill you." They continued laughing for a long moment, enough to make Aegis snap at the figure.

"I don't have a curfew," he reminded the stranger. The city underneath the hill that throned the palace was controlled by sirens. Sirens that rang just before the Sanitarium sounded a gong ten times. Sirens that made all the people below rush inside their homes like ants up the anthill. There were always two sirens, but the streets below were usually deserted after the first.

But Aegis was a slave. He was expected to work day and night for the people in the palace. So it didn't matter what this person had found funny.

"No," the stranger responded, their laugh dying instantly, "of course not. That's why I asked to meet in the middle of the night." They motioned the sword towards Aegis once more.

He stared back at his masked benefactor with a justifiable amount of scepticism as he took the sword. Aegis had seen swords before on the peacekeepers—the Hanshö's waists. Their swords had been broad and mirror-like though, and this was thin, like leaves of the pine needles he often looked after.

"I don't know how to fight," Aegis informed the white armoured figure. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with this sword.

"You don't remember how to fight," they corrected, "I'm told you were a formidable opponent."

A formidable opponent would have had fewer scars on his back, but Aegis didn't argue with his very odd benefactor. No one else knew about the network of deep scars that crisscrossed his back.

He swung his sword like he had seen the training Hanshö do when they were sparring near the gardens. It was astonishingly light in his hand.

"One scratch," Aegis repeated, unsure if he had heard the masked figure correctly, and upon seeing a definite nod demanded, "why?"

"I'm afraid the answer to that is rather selfish," the masked stranger remarked, calmly drawing a second sword from their waist, "I am risking quite a lot by just being here," they continued, their voice flat and emotionless. It made Aegis wonder how honest they really were about everything, "and I need to know you are just as committed to this as I am."

"You're lying."

He wasn't sure how smart it was to call out this person's bluff. They were, after all, his only means to answers, answers that no one else seemed to want to give. But Aegis couldn't fight with his fists let alone with this metal pine needle. How was fighting a losing battle supposed to show commitment?

"I suppose we'll just have to find out."

Aegis gripped his thin sword as tightly as he could while the masked figure bowed and then changed their stance.

They held their sword arm above their head in an arc, yet still pointed the sword at Aegis. Their second hand was flat with the palm facing up, as the opponent's four gloved fingers and a thumb pointed at him.

"Yeah, I'm not doing that," Aegis professed, unsure if this was some nobleman's way of sword fighting. The Hanshö never bowed or made weird movements before they sparred against one another.

"That's alright," the masked stranger responded, their voice still as calm as the night.

"En Garde!"

And the figure spun in a blur of white.

Aegis had barely enough time to move his wrist before the sword was jabbed on his chest. It didn't pierce his skin, there was no red. At least this person wasn't lying about not wanting to kill him.

Between the lack of light and the sudden increase in his exercise, however, he realised how tired he really was.

It didn't help that he really couldn't sleep at night. He had tried initially, but there was always that same dream that woke him in cold sweats. The dream of the man with the monster eye.

Aegis wasn't really sure if it was just a dream, but he had given up sleeping. It wasn't that hard, and besides, he would crash into a dreamless power nap every few days anyway. So it hadn't been a real problem.

At least until now.

"Again," his opponent announced calmly, repeating their earlier dance of raising the sword over their head. Aegis felt a pang of annoyance at this calm, had they expected him to lose?

It didn't matter, one scratch. That's all he needed.

He readied himself as an idea began to form in his head. If he didn't move at all, if he let himself get stabbed, he could use his secret to take this masked figure by surprise. One scratch was all he needed.

"En garde!"

Only this time, his opponent began their attack by raising the sword straight above their head like a whip. It was jarring how uncannily it reminded him of his recurring nightmare.

Aegis felt his legs give away as he involuntarily dropped to his bottom and retreated. Was this him? The man with the monstrous eye? The eye that had a res pupil and the whites of which were solid black.

"Wait—no," his opponent dropped to their knees, discarding their thin sword as well, "that wasn't the purpose of this spar," they insisted raising both hands in an attempted surrender, "I'm not him!"

A million thoughts were rushing through his mind at once, how did they know who Aegis was afraid of? More importantly, what did they mean when they said 'the purpose of the spar'? Aegis wasn't sure if he wanted to continue this dance with the masked threat.

He should have spoken, he knew he should have. Instead, he found himself staring at the stranger, his benefactor and his opponent with nothing but needles in his throat.

As if he was trapped in his team again, waiting for the metal to tear his back apart.

The figure gave a quiet sigh, almost resigned as they dug their fingers and pulled off the headgear.

"See?"

And Aegis saw.

The face that stared back at him was unmistakably his own. His opponent had the same narrow nose and sallow complexion. The same bright green eyes. If it wasn't for the hair, Aegis may as well have been looking at a mirror.

But that wasn't what had really thrown him back.

Unlike Aegis, this person hadn't hidden the secret on his forehead. They had displayed it in all its glory, the red and blue vertical eye with the golden spiral in the centre. This eye—this mark was his first secret, hidden away under the mass of white hair on his own forehead. Yet his doppelgänger saw no need to hide it.

"What the hell is going on?" Aegis didn't have time for courtesy anymore. "Who are you? Who am I?" Why did someone who looked exactly like him know of him but not know him?

"You are Aegis Lichtsija," his doppelgänger replied with a small smile, and their shoulders seemed to relax as they extended a friendly hand to help Aegis up. "My twin brother and the heir to this underwater kingdom."