"I'm still me," I said, cutting off some more duck. "Damnit, I'm still me." I brought it up to my mouth.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, his grip audibly tightening. "I swear, if you've done anything to Atlas, I'll kill you in-"
"Has the Farm Tax risen yet?" I asked, chewing.
"You must be out of your mind," he said, scoffing. "Only the Royal Family could do such a thing." I swallowed, missing the taste immediately. Fortunately, I'd already cut another piece, lifting it.
"Hm, what year is it?" With how small I was, I'd guess I was around seven years old, so that it would make it-
"4025. Now, if you're some kind of old soul looking for a vessel, I suggest you move on."
Ignoring his words, I said, "Right, we're still using the Kalder Calendar. What does that make it, twenty years? Yeah." I turned to look at him, and something about my face must've made him flinch. "In twenty-ish years, the world ends. Well, more accurate to say every human but two dies then." My heart thumped at those words, reminding me of what happened.
"You think I should believe this?" he said, his face stoic once again; the knife seemed to be forgotten at this point.
"Kill me, everyone but me loses. Let me live, everyone wins. Your choice, really." After a few more bites, he seemed to back down. "Oh, by the way, this was delicious." I didn't have the belly to eat an entire duck, so I stood up and moved back to where I was earlier, continuing my push-ups. Eventually, Harry took the duck and walked out, leaving me alone.
***
When the light that filtered in started leaving, I couldn't move, too tired to even open my eyes. Yet, I knew I couldn't sleep, not until I'd done everything I could.
"Damn it, Roy," I said, wriggling my way over to the desk, where some paper and a pen lay. Somehow, I got myself into the chair, positioned everything I needed, and let my hand flow.
Why did everything have to get pushed onto my shoulders? I was the single worst pick, out of any criteria. Wasn't strong, wasn't good with magic, never unlocked aura, couldn't do anything outside of theory, brash, reckless, vengeful, I would even say villainous, and-
"Stop," I whispered. "Please." I relaxed my grip, letting the pen fall out of my hands, and then stumbled my way into a kiss with the ground.
***
The Sunlight hit my eyes, forcing me awake. Unfortunately, my entire body ached, so all I could do was lie down for a while longer. Sometimes groans escaped my lips, but they weren't loud enough to gain any atten-
The door slammed open, with Harry walking through its threshold; his head moved from side to side until he found me, lying on the ground.
"You are truly from the future?" he asked. If I was less tired, would that look of disdain still be formed?
"I did tell you it's still the same me." I tried to move my arms, but they refused to have any strength put in them.
"Yesterday, you said there were two people at the end of the world. Assuming one was you, who was the other?"
'Unfortunately, the world rests on your shoulders, Atlas.'
'Unfortunately.'
"Even the best of people aren't as nice as they appear," I said. "But, he was as great as his power."
"His name." His face scrunched up with anger, and I could almost laugh; it looked like a cat trying to eat a lemon.
"In a few more years. No telling what'll happen if I spill his name." I could hear his veins popping, but I raised my head, meeting his gaze. 'The world rests on your shoulders.' Sure it did, but does that mean I have to starve myself? "I'd like some breakfast. Oh, and take it to the dining room, please."
With a click of his tongue and an, "As you wish," he left.
Waiting a few minutes to rise, with my arms that shook, I finally stood up and left my room, heading left.
***
After a couple minutes of walking, I stood in front of the dining room's door. Like everything else in this house, it was the opposite of simple, having so many engravings my eyes glossed over, losing track of where one began and another ended. What wasn't engraved was painted white, and what was, silver.
I struggled to open them, but once I did, my father, sitting at the head of a large, empty table, holding a bottle of... gin, I think, entered my vision.
"Oh, great," he said, slamming his bottle down. With exaggerated movements, he pointed at me, his elbow resting on the table. "My failure waltzes in here, like he owns the place."
"I will, soon. But I'd like to first ask..." At the opposite side of him, I took a seat, making sure to scrape the chair. "How do you wish to die?" As with everything else, it looked more expensive than it was comfortable.
He threw his bottle, missing me by quite a wide margin. "Again with your jokin'. Let me tell you, no one is laughing." He stood up, pushing his seat back. "You couldn't touch my toes."
"Not yet," I said, propping my chin up. "But, when I can, will you stay like this? A drunk loser who doesn't want to live?"
"Get out." He glared at me, his hand moving towards his knife.
"Why should i listen to a talentless quack like you? I mean, all you did-"
"Shut up." He started grinding his teeth.
"Was be born as a Baron, and I was unlucky enough to be born as your son."
He slammed his hand against the table, shaking everything on it. "One more word..."
"You weren't the one to kill mother, were-" He threw the knife, and it stuck in the backrest of the chair, where my head would've been if I were using it. "You?"
"Don't talk like you know anything." Right now, he seemed less angry, and more... despondent?
"I know you're burning this house to the ground, and will put a bullet through your skull when you see the bottom of the barrel." I laid a hand out, palm upwards. "So, give me the House."
Somebody chose that moment to walk in, barely giving a knock, and they carried something that smelled delicious.
"Am I interrupting something?" Harry said, his voice cutting through the silence.
After a bit of a wait, father was the one to speak. "No. I was just about to leave." He stooped before standing up, carrying a new bottle of gin, this one filled to the brim. Then, he left.