Someplace else

"SMACK"

"SMACK"

The hall quivered as the ensuing might of the clash audibly pained those who lay witness. Many painstaking minutes had passed as each one grew longer and less distinguishable from the last. 

Sometimes, a cough, sigh or even a wince could be heard from the spectators. As their impatience grew, the hall became eerily quiet as the violence slowed. But the sound was misleading. Any of the spectators could recognize that the conflict was far from over. 

Staggering to his feet, an ugly, contorted face stared back at the docile crowd unflinchingly. Painful lacerations scarred his face, and bruising brutally layered his left eye as well as both his arms. Yet he showed no sign of slowing.

"Perses. Be reasonable already."

A scornful reproach escaped Machia's mouth as he looked down on Perses. Despite his tonality, his face was strangely placid and indifferent. His authoritative words were just another attempt to persuade, to manipulate them. His real feelings were deeply shrouded, as always. 

Most surprisingly of all, however, a trickle of blood slipped down Machia's cheek. 

"Fine then. How about you do as I say now... Then I'll promise you a full explanation afterwards?"

Machia's reasonable, patient words failed to move them in the slightest. They had realized it earlier. Machia was fully aware of what had happened in his absence, the cruelty caused by the fake wretched King. Yet still, he showed no interest in taking Perse's side. Under the watchful gaze of the one they recognized as the Emperor, Machia was deceitful, cruel and hollow. 

"I don't know why you're like this, Machia, and I don't care anymore. I... can't trust you."

Machia feigned surprise as his mouth twisted into a concerned frown. But then, he was gone. 

Suddenly, a fist slugged his stomach. A ridiculous, overwhelming blow threatened to send him flying, but a second arm barred his trajectory, wrapping around Perse's back gently. Taking a swift, careful step back, Machia gave them room to collapse to their knees as tears leaked from his eyes and saliva from his mouth. 

Machia was completely uninterested in further conflict. He opened his mouth to continue the dialogue with Perses. But then his mouth froze as he stepped back, narrowly avoiding a fist that thrust itself at him from below. Still clutching his stomach, Perses had used his dominant arm to recklessly uppercut the dark-haired youth. 

The blow was clumsy, slow and unskilled, a mere imitation of Machia's own. Yet it had caught the cautious prince off-guard; an unfamiliar, puzzled expression sprung onto his features. Taking advantage of Machia's perplexion, Perses wheezed from the results of the most debilitating blow he had received so far. 

"How about you tell me everything first, then we can talk. Like why exactly you're being like this, like what happened to Circe-"

"Dead she exhausted her usefulness."

Machia shook off his concern with a shake of his head as he maintained distance between the two of them. After a slight glance at the Emperor from the corner of his eye, he continued. 

"The outcasted princess fulfilled her usefulness admriably. Perses, we should both be fortunate that we still have valuable abilities that can help others, right?"

Perse's eyes narrowed as he listened. A quick glance at the King revealed a look of deep familial sorrow. Of course, it was blatantly fake. The thin, wrinkled figure was nothing like the overbearing, stout man who had beaten, chained and tormented him. That insidious, prideful disposition made his current facade all too transparent. 

"Ok then, what about me? What is it you want with me?"

Machia frowned a little before harmlessly folding his arms and speaking in an amicable tone.

"Right now, we must know your abilities, Perses, the ones you have kept from me. An overwhelming threat is approaching. We must understand all the tools at our disposal so that we can prepare appropriately."

Omitting any kind of strain from his words, Machia's coercive tone caused Perses to think as he lowered his guard. 

"I don't have anything like that. I'm not like you, I'm just strong, thats all. Besides, I asked what you want with me, Machia, not them."

Perse's shrewd words were followed by an accusatory glare he shared with the crowd that sat idly behind. 

Machia huffed, shaking his head as a slight smile etched upon the corners of his mouth.

"You're right, Perses; I should be more honest; I haven't been good to you as of late, not at all. You see, though I might only be a prince in name alone, I fear for the lives of everyone in the kingdom. That includes you, Hectate, and everyone in this room. We're all being harsh right now because we're all so very desperate to survive."

His straightforward words moved no one. That didn't mean there was no truth to them at all. But what was there left to say? Machia clearly wanted control of his mind, not like before with the touch of his hand, but through that book. The priest himself had revealed those machinations for all to see. So what was there left to do but fight? 

Machia's eyes peered at the boy, who struggled to his feet uncertainly. The painful lacerations adorning his face had receded over the course of the last minute. Soon, they would vanish entirely. He was healing and fast.

Everything had gone awry. 

"Perses, take a look behind me. The best healers of the continent are gathered here today, the ones responsible for your wounds before. Father, the Emperor, and all his disciples, it's actually hard to imagine how much pain you could even receive before they ran out of mana. I don't want that, Perses. You must believe at least that much.

Machia's face did not exaggerate or deceive. His blank face and uncertain pupils focused on them alone. This sincere tone and face finally compelled them to stop and think. They hesitated in their advance to approach and continue fighting, choosing instead to listen attentively.

"So you agree? How about you start by explaining who you spend so much time talking to when you're alone."

Confusion, fear, uncertainty, and then soon, something more viral and desperate flooded all that away. Fury followed shortly. It was too late to hide his reaction as something ugly and violent reared its head inside him. The last thing he cared for was being threatened, and soon, his world was dyed an ever-growing red. 

##########################

Asteria massaged her head as sweat visibly coated her face. She made it an absolute point to avoid ever recalling these feelings, no matter what. She had only survived all these years by completely forgetting and removing herself from her visions the moment she could. 

Perse's eyes held a hint of concern for the girl, but he was otherwise content to continue lightly kicking as he gently propelled the raft forward. Completely entranced by her story, he had not realized how efficient he had become in the process. 

After all, he had just heard a lot of very interesting details. But first.

"Are you alright?"

Head held in her hands, Asteria shook herself as her arms unravelled slowly. Her hazel eyes were tired yet determined as they wandered around uncertainly.

"No not really, but thanks."

Asteria's tender tone surprised Perses as he recognized her weak complexion. Her eyes darted around his figure as she considered her next words carefully.

"I know it doesn't end there, but was that enough for you?"

Her serious tone was hard to refute, so Perses just nodded his head affirmatively. She was thick with emotion throughout her explanation, commonly needing a moment to remind herself and digest what had happened. But Perses was nothing if not patient, and he'd put a great deal of his own thought into her words. 

"Honestly. Its not much I didn't already understand. Its honestly not that hard for me to swallow."

Asteria scoffed doubtfully as she leaned back, embracing the sky's generous light. The water's surface glistened, and the current had long since washed away any remnants of inky darkness, leaving only a bed of clarity.

"It didn't seem that way to me. Especially right at the end, we really freaked out, you know?" 

Perses nodded his head. It was honestly hard to care all that much about what had transpired. Though Asteria had said 'we', really, it felt like it had more to do with her than it did with him. After all, it had definitely not happened to him, yet to her, it was basically real. 

"Hey, what's that look for? Just because it never happened doesn't make it irrelevant. That's exactly what would have happened if I hadn't helped you out, you know?

Perses appeared puzzled; perhaps he was a little grateful, but it wasn't too easy for him to show it. So, instead, he smiled dismisively as he allowed himself to rest his head on his arms.

"So you really are a Blessed? Huh, I didn't believe you before, but why is it that you're weak?"

A more familiar smirk appeared on Asteria's face as she seemed suddenly rejuvenated. Her eyes radiated a boding challenge as she eyed Perses. 

"It probably has to do with how long we slept."

Perse's eyes widened with intrigue as he attentively listened to her words. Noticing his gaze, Asteria coughed as she deliberated on her thoughts. 

"I believe I was only frozen for a few months, at the absolute most, it was a couple years. After all,, my first memories go back to when I was about three, and according to my parents, my madnes-visions started immediately after I awoke... Meaning?"

Asteria waited for Perses to figure it out with a smug smile. It took him a few moments to realize she wanted him to answer.

"So you don't have any strength because you woke up earlier than me. So what, you're like undercooked?

Asterias smugness wore away as an insidious glare startled Perses, who did his best to then avoid it. The vision, their conversation before and after, all of it had served its purpose well. Helplessly afloat on the raft, a lighthearted atmosphere persisted throughout. 

As Perses continued to evade her vindictive hazel eyes, a thought crossed his mind. 'Fun'

This kind of freedom, however strange their circumstances may have been. It was fun. He was really quite hungry by now, not to mention thirsty and tired. But had he known this kind of freedom existed, he would have left the kingdom behind much sooner. 

Ignoring those frustrated eyes, Perses slowed their propulsion a little and turned to look in the direction of what he could only guess was the kingdom. Slowly, a new thought dawned on him as the stillness of the water eased. Only now, after Asteria's words, did the weight of the woman's actions weigh on him. 

'Amelia, I hope she'll make it back.'