While Xoris had expected some strange sort of script based on the unique lettering on the cover, what he hadn't expected was the countless sketches sprawled across the pages. The author hadn't only been a scribe, but an artist as well. He hummed a little in acknowledgement, before leafing through the pages.

There must have been at least fifty or so legends filled into the thick tome, but he flipped through it until an illustration of a Horror stared back at him. It was a floating maw, with rows upon rows of teeth, all jagged as it ran back into its countless throats, but even more numerous were the hundreds of inset eyes, and he could tell they were all different colours from the varying shades of grey used for the irises. It looked disgusting, like most Horrors. He was glad he had never met one on the battlefield yet. The title above it was labelled: Xeth, the Beast who Became a God.

Hundreds of Withers ago, before man had learned to measure time in drips and turns, Beasts ruled over just as much land as Humans. Farms watched out for Maulbeasts, gorgons reigned close to the mountains, and the peasants of the Watered Plains lay low under the rule of a horror known as Xeth, The Thing of Eyes and Teeth.

Xoris paused reading for a moment. It was clear this book was old. No one called Welks maulbeasts anymore. That was such an archaic term, not to mention... "The Watered Plains haven't been around in ages," he muttered to himself. Not since they moved the castle all the way out here. Now it's just the Wastelands. He had seen the deserts that made up the battlefields only a tally ago, and it was hard to imagine that it had once been prosperous towns and farmlands. Nothing remained of it after the slaughter raids.

He continued reading. Xeth had many abilities that he used to instil fear in the Humans he forced to work for him. He had eight different colour eyes, but the two most powerful were the green that he used to turn all before him to stone, and red that he could use to ignite any object into flames.

Xoris frowned as a certain feeling of familiarity began to settle uncomfortably in his chest, but he dismissed it as a coincidence for now, and pressed on. Proficient in all ways of heka, Xeth was highly intelligent, studying day and night and reading the minds of any Human he could find as he sought after the ultimate knowledge: how to bring back the dead. After three Cracks of neverending searching, he committed the most vile act and killed a Vilve, using its blood to glance into time itself, and gain the knowledge he needed to develop a ninth, final eye: Grey.

Xoris paused for a moment to scratch at his teeth, looking down at his nails at the small amount of sludge that came off. They were itchy, incredibly itchy, but he ignored it, wiping off his hand and glancing back down at the pages.

With this newfound power, he reanimated hundreds of Humans, planning to spread his reign. This angered the gods, jealous of a Beast that dared to attempt to rise to their ranks. While they could not kill him, they sentenced him to be stripped of his power, forcing him to live a mortal lifespan in the body of a Human. At first, he sought revenge, but in time, came to find peace within the Human society, and love. Not much is known of his life after, nor his death, but the Thing of Eyes and Teeth has not reared its monstrous head since...

Xoris had never been religious, but with the way the tale was written, it was hard to tell where history ended and fable began, which irked him. The tale after that was of the Water Goddess, Clesydra, and after that, there seemed to be no other mention of Xeth aside from the one story.

He closed the book, frustratedly sliding it back onto the shelf with a thud. He put out the candle by his beside and lay back down, staring into the dark. He could still see the shapes in the room surprisingly well, and from there stared at the canopy above him. He stretched his hands out in front of him, able to make out each finger and the scar on his left palm despite it being pitch black. I still look the same. I still feel the same. How am I to believe anything they're telling me?

The thing in that book had been a Beast, a carnation of evil with just enough sanity to be determined as a Stained. It killed with no second thought, tried to bring back the dead, and they wanted to claim that he was its descendant?

Ridiculous.

He rolled onto his side, closing his eyes. He was going to sleep, and in the morning, he could reexplain himself to those above him, and they'd send him back to his simple life, surely. He clung to that thought with stubborn hope as a blackness tighter than the room blanketed his tired vision.

Xoris was in a dirty room, the blanket with his name hand-stitched onto him curled up into his small hands. He felt thirsty, and he climbed out of bed, hoping to pour himself some water from the Warden's kitchen. Perhaps if he was quiet, no one would notice him. He crept past Luke, holding a small stuffed Welk toy in his sleep, and closed the door softly behind him. He was almost to the kitchen when he could hear voices. He pressed his body flat up against the wall, his torn, white nightgown barely keeping out the cold of the stone.

"I understand you want to keep him, but I don't think anything good will come of raising that boy."

It was the Warden's wife, Luina. Did she hear me? Am I in trouble? He shuffled closer to hear better.

"I know, but I can't just throw him out. He'd die out there, and we have no clue when the Wither will end," came the Warden's reply.

They're going to put me outside! I should have stayed in bed! He went to run back to his room, when he heard Luina again.

"I just don't like it. The Fae don't get to simply change into one of us, have a night of fun on the town, and return hundreds of days later expecting some random family to raise the child they didn't want. He's not supposed to eat Human food, and he eats so much... We can barely afford to feed the rest of the children that have been left in our care. A Fae... I feel like we don't know what we're doing. We're not the best people for this. I want to care, but-" Her voice tapered off as a soft cry began to fill the air.

Oh. She's talking about Luke. Xoris had asked him the other day why he had strange ears, and he had mentioned something about Fae. Xoris didn't fully understand, but they weren't talking about him, for sure.

"I know. I think that boy with the winged eyes, Xoris, keeps giving him his food. He's becoming skinnier by the day. I want to care for both of them, all the children, but I don't know either. Still, we can't toss them into the cold. We'll figure something out, my enkya, I promise."

They weren't leaving the kitchen, so Xoris headed back to the room he shared with the other five. He was disappointed. He had been hoping to fill his stomach with something. The constant growling was keeping him awake, but it was all right. Luke wasn't going to be left behind, and Xoris would make sure he could eat what he needed to, no matter what. A smile spread across his childish features in determination. He reached for the metal door handle.

It was red, coated in thick, sticky liquid.

He drew his hand back with a scream, but his hand was scarred, dripping even more. It was his.

He stumbled back, only to have the walls look at him with eyes, hundreds of eyes, purple and red, green and grey, staring into his soul. He fell with a thud to the floor, scraping his back as he inched further away, only to press against another wall. It grew a mouth, thin, yet fleshy lips calling out to him, "Why fight it? You're not Human, you're not Human..."

"No! I am!" he shouted, sounding like both a child and a man. Across from him, the door opened to reveal Luke, the arrow in his neck.

"What did you do?" he asked, voice echoing again and again.

"Nothing! I didn't do anything!" Xoris cried, but Luke simply pointed down the hall at the Warden and his wife's friendly faces, petrified forever in stone.

Xoris wrenched his face from the sight, running, tripping, breathing heavily in time with the living walls, closing in. The walls were him. He was the walls. His skin felt itchy, his teeth felt itchy. The walls blinked, demanding an answer. "I didn't do it! I would never! You're wrong! You're all wrong!"

Xoris shot up in bed, rapid breaths racking at his lungs. His forehead was coated in a cold sweat, the only sound being the constant drip of the water clock, and his heart thudding loudly in his ears with its incessantly wrong rhythm. A Beast-like cry wrenched from his throat as he grabbed his hair, pulling at it from both sides. He tried to slow his breathing, quell the images that continued to float in his mind, but they stubbornly remained.

I'm losing my mind, he thought. I'm going to lose my mind. He glanced out of the gaping hole of a window. The sky was just beginning to open, the first rays of light creeping across the land. It was early, but he refused to attempt to sleep again, flipping onto his stomach and resting his face in the pillow if only to clear the headache of sheer exhaustion.

He was only too happy to reply when a servant knocked on the door to inform him that breakfast was served, and that the king and advisor were waiting for him. Anything to not be alone with his thoughts.

"Ah, there you are Xoris! How did you sleep?" the king asked, putting on a smile before drinking from a metal goblet.

He ignored the question, kneeling to the floor to take a seat on the several coloured cushions there. The table spread was quite extravagant, and as his eye fell across pieces of green melon, he reached over to take a few for his own plate.

"Your highness," he began. "I-I gave it some thought last night, and reconsidered. I do not wish to be your paladin, or cl-cl-cl... assume any title."

Xoris paused to take a deep breath, trying to get both his mind, and his words in order. They were getting hard to form again, his tongue tripping and failing him as it often did when he spoke. He tried again. "In my hometown, I was simply a scribe. If you want me to work for the war, then perhaps I can help to write and send letters. Information is key in strategy, and I can aid in that. The battlefield, however, is not for me. I don't want any part of it anymore, I'm sorry."

The king's smile dropped as quickly as it appeared. "...Xoris, you do realise to deny your king is to turn your back on the Human race in times like these, correct? You don't mean to tell me that you- a Stained- are planning on joining the Beasts, do you?"

His voice held a deep threat to it as the advisor looked away, seemingly very shaky. The cup of rich, thick purple and black liquid trembled in his grasp. Wine, Xoris presumed. Whatever it was, it was the same shade as the violet strands of hair beginning to sprout from the roots of the man's otherwise dusty blond hair, but he couldn't see why anyone would choose to dye it such a strange colour, or at all.

"N-no your highness," Xoris answered, focusing back on the king as he gulped down a piece of melon, the subtle sweetness giving a bit more energy to think. "But I'm sure I can help in other ways. To kill so many..."

He shook his head. He never wanted to do that. It was wrong. His teeth itched in his mouth, the urge to scratch at them spreading through him again, but he ignored it. "Again, fighting isn't really my strong suit."

"You'll be getting a strong suit in a matter of days. One that I personally ordered, and you'll be using it to fight," the king replied sternly before continuing in a lighter, more comforting tone. "I'm sure this must all be very sudden to you, but given the report that all your comrades, and nearly all of the Stained army, aside from you, and your one friend, avoided the attack, it is clear that you ended the fight. You took out countless enemies at once. We need you Xoris. You're Humanity's only hope to ever win this war."

All my comrades? I killed them as well? His stomach twisted, his headache only aiding in his sudden nausea. He hadn't been fond of any that he had interacted with, and yet... He would never have wished that on anyone. If it was him, it had been an accident, but did that justify it? And if not, what would?

The idea disgusted Xoris as he pushed himself up off the floor, drawing himself to his full height, far, far taller than the king and his advisor. The king flinched under his gaze, but he ignored it. He couldn't agree to anything that would him involving actually commiting murder. "But your highness! One person on the battlefield isn't enough. I can't make up for the hundreds out there, and you certainly can't think that I alone can take out every Beast by myself!"

"Well, I-" the king opened his mouth, but stopped as the advisor raised a pale hand.

"My liege, if you could, allow me handle this?" His voice was soft, but the king nodded along.

"By all means Kraim, go ahead."

"Thank you," came his curt reply, and with that, he was walking around the grand length of the table, leading Xoris out the door. "We should only be a moment."

The hall stood, far too large for only the two of them as Xoris was led into it. The lonely feeling was only worsened as a ancient, sturdy feeling hit him. Confused, he glanced up, trying to locate it, but there was nothing there save for the downwards, spiral staircase Kraim was leading him past. The feeling strengthened, tugging at his chest. No, lower. His sternum, pulsing in a strange beat, something about it calling out to Xoris. It felt welcoming, powerful, and yet... It wasn't majik.

... heka. A flicker of annoyance ran him, and he shoved the feeling away. It felt lonesome without it, but if the only other sense of life to the halls belonged to the Stained, the enemy, then he would rather feel nothing at all.

And yet, the silence was deafening, leaving him with nothing to do but reconsider what he'd felt. Again. And again. And again. "It's... certainly very empty in here, for a castle," Xoris began, trying to fill the halls with something as Kraim shut the door behind them. "For a castle, I would have imagined a lot more servants."

"And we would have them, if the war efforts weren't so demanding," came the advisor's one-toned reply, the bangs of his perfectly maintained hair falling across his face. "But here we are, standing on our last legs."

Xoris frowned at the sincerity of his last words, eyes flicking to the floor for a moment before he brought them back. He didn't want to be rude to the people asking him so kindly for help, and it wasn't as though he didn't want to. But one man... That can't be enough. For sure.

"Thing of Eyes and Teeth?" the man started again, politely even as the title made Xoris twitch. "I want to remind you of what you argued before, at the table. I believe you said 'One person on the battlefield isn't enough', correct?"

Xoris nodded rapidly. "Correct."

To his surprise, Kraim leaned against the door, his straight, stiff position deflating with a sigh. His hands rubbed at his temples as he went to explain. "Not to be rude, but you're looking at this the wrong way. In most circumstances, yes, sending a person into the battlefield alone would be an ashclaeve's move. But that isn't what we are doing, is it?"

Xoris' nose crinkled in confusion. "I... I'm not sure I understand what you mean." He reached down to fiddle with his thin, white tunic, the hole in the side still dyed bright red from blood. His own, Stained blood.

"Come now. I know you're intelligent. Look at the way this kingdom is run. Hundreds of Humans, real people, are sent out to the frontlines, hardly trained, sent to die every day because someone-" His indigo eyes shot back towards the room where the king sat, no doubt still feasting. "-decides that is the best course of action. That lining up men, women, and unmals to shield a falling apart kingdom is the only option we have left. But I don't see it that way."

His gaze focused on Xoris once more, a thankful smile filling his slim features. "These people don't have to suffer if we can send out something powerful enough to take out countless Stained at once."

"And you want me to be that... thing?" An odd feeling settled into his stomach at the idea even as a lightness filled his heart. I could be the one to protect them?

"Yes!" Kraim clasped his hands together, a pleasant smile filling his face that Xoris felt obligated to match. "It's all about the mindset you hold. If you are forced to live as a Beast, then the only way you could be better than them would be to not fall into their violent ways. And, what better way to do that than protecting those that you care about?"

"... There is none, I suppose." His family's faces floated into Xoris' mind once more, drowned in the remnants of his dream. Luke, soaked in the blueish-green of his blood, Merkos... Alaina... Each of them drenched in their own emerald. The smile fell away, his hands trembling at the thought. But I'd never do anything like that, right? Still, he'd seen the wild, unfocused look in the Beasts' eyes as they had torn through person after person, each one making them into something lesser.

What if I become something even worse?

What if I already am?

He focused on Kraim's determined face in front of him, so thrilled at the prospect of him fighting once more. So accepting, despite what he'd become. He beamed at the man in gratitude. "And this would save me from becoming a monster?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, but you could be the very thing that wins us the war. You could even save the world!" Then he softened his voice, becoming serious. "But, the only way to do that is by being safe, and not angering the king. He may not be the most... well-versed at battle strategies, but with you on board, I'm much more confident in reclaiming this country."

"Well, I'm glad I could help," Xoris replied as Kraim opened the door for him once more, leading him into the dining hall, much brighter than it had seemed before.

"Ah! There you are Kraim. Was a decision reached?" The king called through a mouthful of grapes.

"Yes sire, I believe it was." Kraim nodded.

"Wonderful, then we can continue."

Xoris sat down as the king lifted a generous bite of what looked like Pruul eggs to his gaping mouth. "As I was going to say, my paladins do make a very hefty amount. Say, starting at around three hundred and fifty chips?" he offered, with a brow raised confidently.

"Three hundred and fifty after every Wither?" Xoris asked incredulously. That was certainly a lot, but Xoris still didn't know how to fight.

"What? No. Three hundred and fifty every day you're in service." He took another bite. "If you agree now, today will be the first of that."

"Sire, we already have three paladins. Adding another of that paygrade will..." Kraim began.

"Three? And what have they done? Release them all! We'll only need one now. It's the Thing of Eyes and Teeth, and deserves to be paid well. So, what do you say?" He looked at Xoris, mothy grey eyebrows raised in triumph as he extended a tanned hand towards him.

Xoris blinked at the board in front of him. Why why they acting as though it was a choice? The answer was clear. If I refuse, I'll be killed for treason, be hunted as a Stained, or at best, be drafted right back to where I was, with no pay at all for the same work. At least this way... I can still be useful to people. I could... Save them.

"That's perfect, thank you." He tried to smile in appreciation at the king, even as the man's hand felt uncomfortably sweaty as he took it in his own left.

"Ehna feh ham'ra?" the king asked, giving a stern look.

Xoris shook his head fervently at the question of whether he was going to break his promise, even as a heavy sense of regret strangely began to fill his lungs. "No."

"Wonderful! In that case, did you bring your Aevida?" the king asked, letting go to pull out a wooden board filled with rounded holes, each holding a single, white ball.

"No. Mine was left at the keep," Xoris admitted sheepishly. Not that his Aevida could be expected to hold that many chips. It had fifty slots at best.

"No matter. You can have one of mine." He pushed the large wooden frame down the table until it slid to a stop in front of Xoris. He had expected it to be heavier, but the reed-like wood remained just as light. "Now come closer."

Xoris took a step forward, and the king took out his own Aevida, flipping it around so the side with chips faced the holes in the one he'd lent Xoris. As they clacked to fit together, the magnetic-like hold released, the chips removed from their original place and now sitting comfortably in a new home. Xoris pulled the Aevida back, plucking out a single chip in his fingers. They're certainly real. There was no mistaking the feeling of the dense, yet still somehow porous white stone.

"There, your first day, and I'll keep a running tally once we send you out to the battlefield. Now all that's left is to collect your armour once it's made, and send you off."

"I'm sorry your highness but as much as I'd like to help, I still know nothing of fighting." Xoris reached up, scratching at the back of his neck. "I-If it's not too much trouble, my best friend, Luke, was hurt in the battle. I'd like to be sure he's all right, and... if anyone could teach me how to fight, it would be him. He's a spectacular knight. Loyal, strong, brave, excellent in majik..."

A pang ran through his veins at the thought of him once again. What would he even say when he arrived? That he'd been Stained? That he quite possibly could have been his entire life? He could barely understand the situation himself, much less how Luke would process the matter. His heart clenched as a new realization hit him. What if he thinks I'm a monster?

"A spectacular knight, you say?" Kraim asked, cocking his head in interest. "Well in that case, I suppose we can allow it. What keep were you in?"

"Skallos, sir."

A confident hand landed heavily on Xoris' shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts as the king grinned at him. "All right. If that's settled, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay, Xoris."