His sobbing stopped. His expression went slack. Like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Go jump off the castle, maybe then I'll forgive you."
Jeff nodded slowly; his movements became mechanical.
"Yes," Jeff whispered, his voice empty of emotion.
I blinked, and the strange connection snapped. Jeff's eyes cleared slightly, confusion washing over his features. But something had changed. Something had taken root in his mind.
"Piece of shit." I snarled.
I released him, and he crumpled to the ground like a broken doll. He clutched his ribs, gasping for breath between sobs.
"Stay out of my way," I said, stepping over him. "And stay away from me. Next time, I won't be so merciful."
I left him there in the alley, broken and bleeding. The sounds of his crying followed me as I headed toward the castle.
My hands were covered in his blood. I wiped them on my pants as I walked, but the red stains remained. Physical proof of what I'd done.
I should have felt guilty. Should have felt something other than this cold satisfaction.
But I didn't.
He deserved it. They all deserved it.
The castle gates were ahead now, still open. Torchlight spilled from the courtyard beyond, illuminating the gathered crowd. I could hear voices and announcements being made, as the ceremony was still in progress.
I wasn't too late.
I smoothed my torn, bloodstained shirt as best I could and straightened my shoulders. My enhanced hearing picked up individual conversations from inside the courtyard.
The clink of armor as executioners moved through the crowd. The nervous whispers of the remaining candidates.
This was it. My chance to finally prove myself. To finally earn the respect I'd been denied my entire life.
I stepped through the gates.
The courtyard was massive, easily a hundred feet across. Stone pillars lined the edges, and banners bearing the Order's golden sun emblem hung from every surface.
Hundreds of people filled the space, nobles in fine clothes, common folk pressed against the barriers, and children who'd passed the initial tests standing in neat rows before a raised platform.
On that platform stood the executioners. Seven of them, their silver armor gleaming in the torchlight. Sacred blades were placed in front of them with their hands on the hilt.
And at the center of the platform, addressing the crowd, stood Grandmaster Knight Cedric.
He looked exactly as I remembered. Tall and broad-shouldered, with gray-streaked hair and a weathered face from years of battles. His armor was different from the others, marked with golden accents that denoted his rank as the Order's leader.
His voice carried across the courtyard without needing to yell. "—and so we continue this sacred tradition. These young souls before us have proven their worth through the trials. Now they will face the final test. The bonding."
My heart pounded. I'd missed most of the preliminary tests, but if I could just get Cedric's attention...
"Well, well. Look who decided to show up."
I snapped my head at the sound of that old familiar voice.
Marius stood a few feet away, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He looked pristine, clean clothes, and not a hair out of place.
Like he hadn't spent the morning beating someone half to death and throwing them into a ravine.
"Surprised to see me?" I asked, keeping my voice level.
"Surprised you can walk." His eyes raked over me, taking in my torn shirt and bloodstained clothes. "Guess you're tougher than you look, vile. But you're too late. The ceremony's almost over."
"Not yet it isn't."
"You really think they'll let you participate?" Marius laughed. "Look at yourself. You're a mess. Covered in blood, clothes torn to shreds. You look like you crawled out of a grave."
He wasn't wrong.
"I don't care what I look like," I said. "I'm here. That's what matters."
"You're delusional." Marius stepped closer, his voice dropping to a hiss. "Even if they let you try, you'll fail. The blades don't choose trash like you. You're tainted. Corrupted. The best thing you could do is turn around and crawl back to whatever hole you climbed out of."
Before I could respond, a voice cut through the tension.
"Vlad?"
We both turned.
Knight Cedric stood at the edge of the platform, staring directly at me. His expression was unreadable. He looked surprised from what I could tell.
The entire courtyard fell silent. Hundreds of eyes turned toward me, taking in my appearance. The whispers started immediately, rippling through the crowd like wildfire.
"Is that the cursed one?"
"What's he doing here?"
"Look at all that blood..."
Cedric descended from the platform. The crowd parted for him as he approached, executioners following close behind.
He stopped a few feet away, his weathered face studying me intently. "I heard you were dead."
"Not quite," I said.
His eyes flickered to my torn clothes, the blood staining my hands and shirt. For a moment, I thought he might turn me away. That I'd miss my chance.
Then his expression softened slightly. "Come with me."
"What?" Marius sputtered. "But he..."
"Now, Vlad." Cedric's tone left no room for argument. He turned and headed back toward the platform, clearly expecting me to follow.
I didn't hesitate. I fell into step behind him, ignoring Marius's shocked expression and the whispers that grew louder with each step.
As we walked, Cedric spoke quietly. "I don't know how you survived, boy. But if you're here, you'll get your chance. The blades will judge you, not me."
"That's all I ask."
We were halfway to the platform when I heard it.
A scream.
High-pitched and terrified, cutting through the murmur of the crowd like a knife.
Everyone looked up.
A figure stood at the highest point of the castle wall. Silhouetted against the darkening sky. Even from this distance, I could make out Jeff's form, swaying slightly at the edge.
"Someone's on the wall!" a voice shouted.
"What's he doing up there?"
Time seemed to slow. Jeff took one step forward. Then another. His movements were jerky, mechanical, like he was fighting against invisible strings.
Wait why us he up there?
His body plummeted through the air, arms windmilling uselessly. The scream that tore from his throat was pure terror, echoing off the stone walls.
He hit the courtyard with a sickening crunch.
The impact was horrific. His legs shattered on contact, bones jutting through skin at impossible angles. His hip twisted wrong, the sound of breaking bone audible even over the screams of the crowd.
But he was alive. Writhing on the stone, shrieking in agony as blood pooled beneath him.
Chaos erupted. People rushed forward. Executioners shouted orders. Cedric barked commands, sending knights to help the boy.
And I stood frozen, staring at Jeff's broken body.
I did that.
I told him to jump.
And he did.
But why?