Words Like Chains

The room seemed to hold its breath as Avond stared back at his father, who looked more upset by the second. It was like holding one's breath as an accident was about to occur, anticipating the impact of a collision seconds away.

Even Tiel, who had just been ratted out a minute ago, looked concerned. Not for him, of course—for himself. Regardless, whatever Avond was hiding, he was also under suspicion, considering they were working together.

"Excuse me?" Avond said finally, letting go of his held breath carefully.

"I think you know what I'm talking about," Erickson said, one finger now slowly tapping the hard surface of his desk. He narrowed his eyes, accusations clear in them.

"A lot is happening," Avond admitted. "If… you could be more specific, then I can report the latest news," he suggested, careful not to let his panic show.

"Well, if I must. Multiple robberies and kidnappings are happening on the streets. More importantly, at Learning Commons above all else." Erickson leaned forward, his eyes glistening with eagerness. There were people on his streets causing chaos and committing crimes he hadn't agreed to. It was a matter of pride.

"What have you heard?" Avond asked.

"Well… let's see. Some people can overturn a car by themselves, bust through thick winter glass, and are so quick that it's almost impossible to shoot them. At least thirty police officers are injured, and three are dead. That, we cannot have."

Avond nodded. "It's a drug. I don't know who's engineering a military-grade drug and selling it on the streets, but it is already circulating."

Erickson gritted his teeth. "And you didn't think I needed to know about this?"

"I think you do need to know, but I only found evidence of it yesterday," Avond explained, though it sounded lame. But it was the truth.

"And did you track the person who bought it?"

"We couldn't. Wouter found it in the pocket of a student who overdosed." Avond's gaze fell. It wasn't anything new; they often found people overdosing.

The news always made it sound so insignificant, painting the person as if they were mindless criminals for overdosing as if it were an isolated incident. Their faces were plastered all over the news, the face of deterioration, and the zombified gaze of a broken soul.

Avond was used to that. But what happened to these people who took this drug was far worse. They didn't even look human anymore—their faces were just a remnant of what used to be, a person turned into a ghoul.

"That's a pity. But considering how dire the situation is, I expected you to be the one who found the body, not… Wouter," Erickson said as if his right-hand man was an incompetent fool better suited to be a clown than his best man.

"I understand that," Avond simply replied, ignoring the insult.

"Although, I can accept it," Erickson said, once again surprising him. Next to Avond, Tiel had stopped showing any reaction. His face and body were like stone, although his eyes glinted with interest, like a cat watching a fish swim.

"I know you were on Edu Tracks yesterday. It didn't end well," Erickson continued. If Erickson knew about it, it only meant his men were sent to look into the issue themselves, and that's only because he heard it from their equals, the Officials.

"It didn't," Avond admitted, remembering the face of that girl—the foreigner.

"I was told many girls had started to disappear. Now, girls run away for many reasons. We know this far too well," Erickson began while reaching for something in his drawer. "That's acceptable and doesn't concern us. Who cares for some poor wretch with family issues? No one cares. But it matters if it's someone important."

Erickson placed a photo on the table. An image of a girl.

Avond's tired, heavy-lidded eyes opened wide at the sight of her. It was the girl from the picture Lionel had given him. He had never said anything about her being important.

"Who is she?" Tiel asked for the first time after a long silence.

"This would be Sarafina Asalt, the daughter of the Prime Minister of Thalden," Erickson said, leaning back with a distant look.

That meant her father was Richard Asalt, a good friend of Erickson's. Avond had never known he had a daughter. Above all, Thalden was a neighboring country whose relations with Torra had deteriorated quickly over the past few months.

This would make nice ammunition for political gain. Avond sucked in a breath, not realizing he had been breathing shallowly. "I don't know what to do. The actual shipments we suspected were firearms could be those girls. If so, then… well, they're long gone," Avond said.

Erickson gritted his teeth. Suddenly, a paperweight flew toward him. Avond moved, but he wasn't quick enough. It grazed the side of his right temple, followed by the sound of broken glass behind him. The sound of multiple memorabilia from past trips fell all over the tile floor.

Avond looked back, his face numb as he stared at his father. A warm gush of blood flowed down the side of his face, tracing the line of his jaw before dripping onto the floor. The strong scent of copper filled his nose. Tiel didn't even look up.

"I don't know what happened to the both of you, but it seems a comfortable life has made you stupid and worthless," Erickson said with venom. He sat back down, commanding one of his men to retrieve his paperweight.

Avond started to feel his head spin, a soft tremble shaking his body slightly. Any other day he could have handled it with a straight face, but today was not his day. He had been missing sleep, and the city had started to become unmanageable. Like stone turning to sand, it had slipped through his fingers.

"I give you one week for everything," Erickson said. He began writing as if nothing had happened. Both Avond and Tiel looked at each other, unsure what he meant by that, but neither wanted to ask. After Tiel tilted his head like a glitching computer character, Avond gave in.

"Just exactly what do you mean by everything in one week?" Avond asked, too drained to care anymore about what Erickson might throw next.

Erickson gritted his teeth, then sighed. "Get a lead on Asalt, track down who distributed the drug, and in one week, if neither of you finds Celeste, we'll go for Orion…"

"What!?" Tiel demanded. "Just one week to find Celeste?"

Erickson shot him a dirty look. "It was a massive failure not to find her today," he said, then looked over at Avond. "Oh, and... pay my old friend a visit, will you?"

Avond's face paled. "Your old friend?"

"Yes. Jordan. Some beating would be a fair price for the trouble he's caused us, don't you think?" he asked. Avond's mouth opened, but then he closed it again. If his head could explode, it would have by now.

"Don't you think it would make sense if I did it? I'm the one he promised Celeste to!" Tiel said, a little too eager. Avond realized that as much as he did not want to be the one to do it, he couldn't let Avond do it. He would send that man too close to his grave.

"No. He promised Celeste to me," Erickson said coldly. "You were supposed to play nice and woo the girl, but you can't think properly. And I should have known to tell you the obvious."

"I'm not that bad," Tiel replied.

"Why? Because you're caring for a stray like a pet, and you don't put your hands on her? That makes you somewhat good? You can make yourself believe whatever you want, but don't carry that around as if it's true." Erickson said it so casually, but even Avond felt the sting. Tiel's face turned red. He stepped back as if Erickson had slapped him physically.

Avond glanced at his father, and despite everything, he had to give the old man some credit. He knew his son.

"Maybe, it's…" Avond started, but Erickson waved him away.

"No. Not maybe. Visit him and give him my greetings. Should have tied that girl to her bed," Erickson said. He started writing again, his face deep in thought.

Both Avond and Tiel left the office, walking towards the elevator together. Avond leaned against the wall; his head felt like it would fall off and roll onto the floor. What's worse, a migraine was coming.

"We need to work together to find Celeste. You need to tell me where you've looked, and maybe I'll search there again," Tiel started.

"Didn't you want to be with Orion?"

"I did. But that was before I knew what I was getting. Celeste is mine."

Avond glanced at Tiel, too tired to answer. His little brother never failed to amaze him. When the elevator doors opened, he stepped in without replying.

"You're ignoring me?"

"You don't see me like this?" Avond demanded. He hated the feeling of tears touching his eyes, but he knew enough that they would not spill over his lashes.

"I'll call

 you tonight. We'll talk about it," Tiel said, stepping into the elevator. Avond fought the urge to push him out; he didn't feel like sharing a tight space with his big mouth.

"No, we won't," Avond said. "I'll be sleeping. Call me tomorrow morning."

"But we only have one week!" Tiel exclaimed, eyes wide.

Avond sighed. "Well then, if it matters so much to you, you can take care of it. I don't know if you noticed, but I have a lot on my plate."

Tiel flicked his tongue. "Look at you, almost thirty and complaining. I was twenty, and I took care of everything without delay." Avond couldn't help but smirk in disbelief. Sometimes he heard it but still couldn't believe it.

"You mean the way you slaughtered people on the streets and tortured anyone you could get your hands on? That's why we had to switch places, remember?" Avond said. The first pulse of his migraine kicked in right then, and he gritted his teeth. He loved and hated his brother.

The moment the elevator doors slid open, Avond half-ran outside the company. He just wanted to go home. Tiel followed him, offended that his older brother had darted away.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Tiel yelled behind him.

"Call me tomorrow!" Avond yelled back, then started his motorcycle. It was going to be a slow journey home.