27 14.5

I smiled. She had accepted my contract and me as her wielder. I raised my sword and rested its tip on the crown of her golden hair. I watched in amazement as her spirit energy began to seep into my sword. The room of shimmering diamond dust was being absorbed by the sword like the sword was a black hole consuming all of her energy. The throne from under me was pulled into the sword and soon her entire form was sucked into the blade, along with all her spiritual energy, leaving me alone in the dark cavern.

I was in a state of glee. I had formed a contract with the most powerful spirit possible, and I could now return completely satisfied. I held up my long sword and admired it. Although it had seemed great before, now it seemed impossibly magnificent. It had the spirit's wonderful warm sparkle to it as if her energy was spilling out of the blade and covering it in a holy golden aura.

Having accomplished what I came for, I reluctantly sheathed my sword in its holder, ready to leave the spirit well.

"Have you got room for one more?"

My heart jolted in my chest at the sound of a man's voice. In an instant, my sword was in my hands and I whipped around ready to fight with whoever was there. Someone must have broken into the royal spirit well.

"Who's there?" I shouted since I saw no one behind me.

"Look carefully future King, I'm right here..." A tone of amusement filled the wicked voice, fuelling my agitation.

I looked forward but all I could see was darkness. The light provided by my knight spirit had all been sucked into my sword and now I could barely see my surroundings. The golden glow of my long sword was the only source of light I had.

I frowned as I realised that I could barely see my surroundings. When I was walking through all the halls of this spirit well, there had been many pathways and halls where there had been no spirits, but even then I had been able to see because the spirit well exuded dull light from its stone walls, as if some kind of spell had been cast on it to keep the pathways visible. I had noticed this a while back when I had been walking through all the tunnels. Probably a kindness left behind from one of my ancestors so that future generations didn't have to struggle through the dark well.

So, if I wasn't able to see, it meant that something was blocking the internal lighting. I racked my brain thinking while the ominous voice started to chuckle as if laughing at my struggle. Giving up on thinking I shouted into the darkness.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" The voice chuckled in reply with the laugh echoing throughout the dark hall. "I've been here all along 'future King'... for thousands of years actually..."

In that moment the metaphorical light bulb went off in my head. It was then that I realised what was going.

The thing surrounding me wasn't the darkness brought on by an absence of light. No, this was darkness generated by spiritual energy. It was the black colouring of a spirit's energy that was cloaking the room in darkness and blocking out the internal lighting of the well's walls. As for the voice, it belonged to none other than an extremely powerful dark spirit, capable of cloaking the entire room and completely erasing its spiritual energy so that I didn't notice it. More than that, it was able to speak and exude an aura just like a human.

The knight spirit who I had just formed a contract with was considered immensely powerful for just being able to keep a human form, but a spirit that could talk and laugh and have a sense of humour was beyond anything that I had thought possible.

It was horrifying how powerful it was, so much so that I was chilled to the bone. If I needed to escape, I wasn't sure that I would be able to run from the thing.

"So you're a spirit?" I held my spirit sword high in the air, ready to defend myself if need be.

"Don't fret, 'future King', I mean no harm." The spirit spoke in an amused tone that didn't seem hostile, so I began to relax a bit but still kept my guard up.

"I like what you said to her..." The voice was getting closer to me, coming from directly in front of me. "That stuff about never forgetting who you are. I thought, 'Hmm... Now that's someone worth following'."

I frowned as I realised where this conversation was going. "You want to form a contract with me?" I asked in disbelief.

Why would a spirit as powerful as him want to follow me? His motives were downright suspicious.

"Of course I want to form a contract with you. It's every spirit's dream to form a contract with a powerful human and be freed from the spirit realm." His voice was laced with mocking sarcasm.

"No you don't, I can hear it in your voice. What's your reason for wanting to form a contract?"

Leopold's words about malicious spirits were ringing in my ears. Spirits simply looking for a way to get out of the well. Spirits devoted to ruining lives and bringing chaos into the world.

My eyes jolted to the movement I saw in the darkness, steps coming closer to me. I looked up, ready to face some kind of monster spirit coming to attack me. When it finally came into view I was lost for words.

It was a man, covered from head to toe in black garb. I had seen this kind of a covering before, without a doubt the general uniform of an assassin. Everything about the spirit was carved in perfect detail. His thin face and sharp snake eyes. His lean build and clothing that made him look human. It was throwing me off to think that the person in front of me wasn't actually a human but a spirit. My knight had also been formed in great detail, but her image had still been hazy with golden energy, so I could tell she was a spirit the moment I saw at her. However, this dark assassin in front of me looked as solid as any human. If I had seen him in the palace I would never have suspected that he was a spirit.

"Truly, I want to form a contract with you." I ignored the mocking in his voice and listened to him as he spoke, but never loosened my grip on my sword.

"They always want us to forget, to move on from our pasts and serve them blindly and wholeheartedly. I find that sentiment childish, disturbing even. My past memories are what make me powerful, of course I won't give them up for some power-hungry brats who know nothing about pain."

The spirit's anger leaked out of his voice and shook the well around us. Dust and loose pebbles fell down from the ceiling as the hall shook. I almost fell to the floor, but I used my sword to stabilise myself.

"I won't form a contract with someone I can't trust." I said resolutely, eyeing the dark spirit waiting for his reply.

"Trust." He said the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Well 'future king'..." The way he called me 'future king' was laced with animosity.

"Trust me when I tell you that you consist of two opposing natures. Just from looking at you, I can tell that great light branches into you from your mother. However, I can see an ocean of darkness laying still in the depths of your soul from your father's ancestry."

My eyes shot to his. His unwavering glare seemed to confront me with an unwelcome truth. I was confused at what he was saying, but also agreeing with his every word.

Leopold had told me many times of the Rosenheim darkness. The great black magic core that each member of the Rosenheim blood possesses, that means we are all born with black hair and amber eyes. Me being the only exception since I was born with the white hair of my mother's clan.

He chuckled as he leaned down closer to me as if seeing the turmoil his words had caused in me.

"That brilliant white knight of yours won't cut it, not when so much of your soul belongs to the darkness. You won't be able to keep up this facade forever..."

His words made me indignant. Before I knew what I was doing I felt rage flood into me. I gripped my sword tighter and pointed the sharp tip at the spirit's throat.

"Pretending." I spat out at him. "I'm not pretending!"

My breath hitched in my throat. As his cold dead eyes stared right through me. He looked at me like I was some petulant child. A stare I had not seen for so long, not since I became Torryn.

The Rosenheim family consisted of hundreds of people, all of whom passed down darkness to their kin. Even if I was born with my mother's nature, the darkness didn't skip me, evidenced by my Rosenheim amber eyes. Had I been foolish to go for the light?

"Face the facts future King, you won't be able to play the perfect prince forever. Did you really think that you would be able to play in the light with your honourable sword forever? Frolicking through the people's admiration. A dove cannot be a hawk, similarly, good men cannot be kings, Noah..."

My heart stopped in my chest for dead long beat.

"How do you know my name...?" I barely whispered out the words as my chest felt so tight.

"That is not your name because you are not Noah. That boy died. His body is buried and his loved ones have made peace with his parting. You are not that helpless boy who lived a half-life. You are the successor of the greatest kingdom in the world and the future King of an almighty empire. How long will you hold onto the identity of that person who is not you."

I was speechless. I stood in front of those all-knowing eyes not being able to say a word.

I was Noah Matthews, wasn't I? He was me, and I was him. We are inseparable because we are the same person, or are we not? Is Noah Matthews nothing but memories? I am different than I used to be. My beliefs have changed. What I once saw as criminal, I know think is justice. I wholeheartedly believed that Irathmus deserved death, something that my old self would not have agreed with. My body is different too. My white hair, amber eyes, and sturdy stature feel completely different from Noah. I've been afraid to admit it to myself, but these days when I look in the mirror, I can't remember exactly what I looked like. I know Noah was scrawny, with dark brown hair and eyes but the exact details of his face have been missing from my memory for quite a while now.

How can a person not remember their own face? Unless that face isn't theirs... Is Noah really dead? Am I someone completely different now?

I heard my sword clang against the hard stone floor. In the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts that had taken over me, I had lost my grip.

"You are Torryn Rosenheim, prince of Azlantean. The sooner you realise that, the less time your people will have to suffer."

"No." I looked determinedly at the assassin spirit. "I am both Torryn and Noah. I will not give up my memories."

The spirit's once hard eyes seemed to soften slightly as he looked down at me.

"You are Torryn with Noah's memories. Nothing more and nothing less. Torryn is the one that will strive for greatness and the security of his people by whatever means. And those old memories of a weak boy will keep Torryn from drowning in his immense power."

The dark assassin took one step closer to me, and as I looked up at him, I felt that I was no longer afraid of him.

"Rejoice, my prince. Those memories are a gift from the gods. They hope for you to use those memories as a crutch to lean on through the struggles you will go through in this life."

The spirit bent down on his haunches and picked up the long sword I had dropped. The spirit stayed low and lifted the sword up to me, his head bowed in subservience.

The spirit chuckled darkly. "Or perhaps those memories are a shackle... I can't help but imagine that the gods feared the staggering power of a newborn babe, so in an attempt to curb his wrath they placed memories in his head that would subdue him."

I could only stare down at the bowing assassin as his words shook me to my core. Every time he spoke, I felt like I discovered something mind-shattering about myself that I had not considered before.

"My prince. You have already chosen a spirit to lead you down the path of light. May I remind you that even though your soul is wrapped in your mother's essence, your core is the darkness from your father and his ancestors. As a creature that has travelled all the paths of darkness, allow me to guide and serve you on your journey to greatness."

A moment ago my heart and brain had been scattered to pieces by his dumbfounding words. But now as he crouched down in front of me, I was regaining clarity with a new sense of conviction.

I took the long sword he was holding up to me and sheathed it to my side. My hand rested upon the second sword I had scavenged from the treasury. The sword that, if I accepted this assassin, would house his spirit.

The choice was mine. Take him or leave him, this was the decision I had to make.

<————————<<<

Leopoldo was pacing up and down the sacred room. The prince had been in the tunnel for almost two whole days. It was an unnervingly long stay that had pushed Leopold to his breaking point. Leopold, who prided himself on his calm attitude, was only just stopping himself from climbing over the edge of the well to bring the prince back himself.

He didn't want to do that though because he knew any interference on his part could cost the prince a powerful spirit. Besides, there had been many records of those using the private royal well spending days or even weeks in the well. However, those people had taken food and sustenance into the well to keep them going, unlike the prince who had gone with only his two swords.

Leopold cursed himself for his short-sightedness. Since the prince was a child, he presumed that the boy would get tired and be out of the well within an hour or two at most after finding a decent spirit orb. However, as Leopold recalled how determined the prince had been in his training, consistently fighting from dusk till dawn and then focusing on his studies for long hours, Leopold cursed himself for not foreseeing this.

Leopold cursed himself for not asking the kitchens to send the prince down with some food and drink. Leopold was cringing at the idea that the prince had collapsed due to exhaustion from not eating and continuously walking for twelve hours. The queen's personal maid, Ms Hargrove, had already visited the spirit chamber six times by request of the queen who was asking after the well being of her son. Leopold had to send the attendant away with barely any news each time, he was definitely feeling the pressure the queen was putting in him. Not to mention that one of the King's personal butlers was stationed outside the chamber, continuously staring at Leopold as if to urge him to go in and get the boy.

Leopold was stubborn though. He knew it was best to wait for the prince to come out on his own.

Leopold's head perked up as he saw Sirith's head suddenly rise off from the floor. It was without a doubt that the white spirit beast had heard something that Leopold could not. Just then the prince's fingers firmly gripped the side of the well. Then his second arm took hold of the edge, and once he was satisfied with his stability, he pulled himself out of the well.

Leopold rushed to the prince's side to help Torryn.

"Your highness, how are you feeling?" Leopold cleared his throat as he looked down at the prince.

"I'm feeling well." Rory straightened up and dusted off his trousers. He went to take a step towards Leopold, however, he felt a wave of dizziness suddenly overtake him. Before he could stop himself, his body swayed off balance.

Sirith sensed his master's weak state and dove for the space where Rory was about to hit the ground. Sirith timed it perfectly as he neatly cushioned Rory's fall.

Rory chuckled and happily turned to scratch Sirith's fluffy forehead gratefully.

"Thanks, big guy." As Rory spoke, he found that his throat felt dry. As if he was completely dehydrated.

"What is happening? Why do I feel so weak?" Rory murmured as he suddenly felt so exhausted.

"My Prince," Leopold crouched down to the prince's level. "The spirit energy in the well maintained you for all the time that you were down there. Now that the concentration of energy is much weaker up here, you are starting to feel the effects of not eating or drinking for two days."

"Two days?" Rory looked up at Leopold in shock.

"Yes. Two days." Leopold confirmed in a less than pleased tone.

Rory blinked at the surprising news. He had spent a whole two days wandering around the well looking for spirits. It was hard to believe actually.

"Your Highness, did your search go well? Were you able to form a contract with a spirit of your liking?"

Rory's head felt so heavy suddenly. He allowed his neck to relax and leaned back into the soft fur of Sirith's warm belly.

"Yes. Two of them actually."

Rory turned to his side and glanced at the two swords strapped to him. One revered knightly longsword, and one terrifying assassin's blade. What a striking pair for a future king.