When Boz walked into the throne room to go out of the castle, he found Lanny sitting on the couch. Reading some book. Boz didn't care what book his cousin was reading – he didn't care what his cousin was planning next. There was something much more pressing that deserved his attention.

But because Boz wasn't interested in Lanny, didn't mean that Lanny didn't notice Boz stomping to the door as quickly as he could with a semi-permanent frown on his face – something very out of the ordinary for Boz.

"What's got you in such a bad mood?" Lanny said, closing his book for a conversation with Boz. He did not realize that Boz was not at all in the mood for a conversation.

"The ocean put a hit on me."

Lanny frowned. "What?"

Of course. He hadn't been there. He wasn't there when Mikayla researched the mark of the ocean, when Boz claimed to see the mummy, when all of this shit was going down. Lanny was clueless – for the first time in a long time, Lanny did not know what was going on.

But that brilliant mind was evil to the core. Boz looked at his cousin and where he once felt hope, he now felt sorry. Sorry for the cousin who was naturally evil, for the boy who might have been good had circumstances been different. But they weren't different, so he wasn't good.

"I used to believe there was hope for you, Lanny. I thought you had the potential to be good. My experiences sure prove it," Boz said. He didn't even care that Lanny had no clue what he was on about. "Try to be nice. Just give it a try and see if it works. If not – well, I'm not stopping you from going back to your murderous rampage."

He turned around and walked to the double doors, leaving Lanny astonished.

"What's wrong with you?" Lanny shouted after him. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Boz stopped in the doorway and only turned his head.

"I'm not wasting my time on you, kid. Not anymore," Boz said. "I'm going to stop this. I'm going to stop it."

Boz continued his way.

"Wait, what are you—"

"Ask Mikayla!"

Lanny did not say anything else. Boz was happy to leave the boy behind, to leave him in the dark. Maybe he shouldn't have told him to ask Mikayla – he might just do it.

So what? What was Lanny going to do after that? What was Mikayla going to do? Nobody was going to stop Boz. He was fully aware he just wanted all these thoughts to stop – it had to stop, so he sought out the one thing that could. A desperate man's decision.

By now, Boz was more desperate than he'd ever been in his life.

#

He didn't know to go to the beach; but when the thing you're struggling with is an ocean spirit, which leaves a mark of the ocean, and whose lackey is called 'the Drowned', it's only logical to go to the water.

Boz's mind was blank. He didn't know if it was because he successfully blocked out all the thoughts, or because the ocean spared him these thoughts because he was coming. Either way, Boz was on his way and he was given a small reprieve. Only small, though – he did not doubt that the ocean spirit could start tormenting him again.

Boz walked on the beach. As expected, the sand got everywhere under the cast the one time he let his foot rest in it. It was hard to move around in the sand, so Boz stayed at the edge, where the ground turned to sand and looked out at the water. Boz walked the length of the beach until it ended. To the side, where the ground sloped up a little, and the land was about three feet above sea level.

A man stood there; a man who looked familiar. That was the man Boz was looking for.

The Drowned; as Mikayla said, a spitting image of Boz. There were still some differences. The Drowned was wet, dripping with water, as if he just climbed out of the ocean to stand before him. Always dripping, always soaking, always wet. He also had dark hair, which was confusing. If the Drowned is supposed to look like him, shouldn't it also have the same strawberry blond hair? But it was dark, and Boz had no idea what it meant.

He didn't care to know what it meant. He had come to talk to the Drowned, not to criticize how it appeared before his future victims.

The Drowned had folded his arms and looked at Boz with the tranquility that Boz wanted back. How easy it was to forget how calm feels with such turbulent thoughts. Boz came to him and stopped at about six feet, ready for judgment and punishment. The Drowned, however, took his time to inspect Boz in his current state.

"I almost thought I had to pick you up," the Drowned said. It sounded like he had water in his throat and spoke with a gurgling noise. Yet somehow, Boz could still understand clearly what the Drowned said.

"This needs to stop," Boz said. "Stop tormenting me."

If Boz hadn't felt so numb, so tired, he may have been enraged. He might have the strength to yell to the Drowned, to tell him his mind, to list all the reasons to go and torment someone else. Even then, he could not rebut what the ocean spirit accused him of, because it was right. He had the right reasons to punish Boz, even if he did not want to be on the receiving end.

"That's not my work. That's all yours," the Drowned said cryptically. He unfolded his arms and let his arms hang next to his torso. "Ready for punishment?"

Boz nodded once; more than ready. "Just get it over with."

With a whoosh, the Drowned transported himself and Boz to a platform a little out at sea. It floated in front of the beach, well in sight, but far enough away that the water was too deep to comfortably stand in. if Boz jumped, with his leg, he could not make it back to the beach safely. He was stuck on the wooden platform, with the Drowned, and a dreaded plug in the middle of the platform.

"The ocean has born witness, Boz," the Drowned said. "You are to be held responsible for the many Mindu lives who could have been saved if you had not pulled the plug. You are to be punished."

Boz looked from the plug to the Drowned and wondered if that spirit could feel hate, or if he could find mercy in his heart. But the Drowned shook his head.

"You hate me. You wonder how to get out of it. Many do," the Drowned said. Suddenly, he grew darker, his gaze hard, his voice louder and more menacing, like a storm. "Do not play with me. I made Sununu dumb. I sent a griffon to ravage Kipi Kipi. I turned Mindu into the floating island that you drowned."

He cleared up again. The dread Boz had been feeling grew exponentially as the Drowned glanced at the plug.

"There is one way forward from here," he said. "But which is it? What will you choose?"

Boz stared at the plug at his feet. He'd have to get on his knees to pull it, but he did not get down just yet. He first looked at the damn thing.

The plug taunted him. It reminded him of his biggest mistake. He barely even remembered what was going through his mind at the time; he just remembered it was the worst storm Mindu has ever seen and the island was unprepared for a storm this size. Everything in place to protect the people only seemed minimal compared to the downpour they experienced. Homes were destroyed, lives were lost, even before they decided that the wild ocean was preferable to the devastation on their beloved island.

Boz thought to go underground, in a safe space where no rain could pour down on them, where no wind could strike them down, where they could wait out the storm; but no such bunker existed on Mindu. Boz thought he'd been wrong when he saw the plug.

Pure panic. At that moment, he must have felt pure panic. He mistook the plug for a trapdoor, for an entrance to a bunker he hoped to find. His panic blinded him to the possibility that this may not be that bunker he so longed for, but the infamous Mindu plug that kept the island afloat.

It was his fault. There was no denying it. He was responsible for the many lives lost because the island sank, but all he did was trying to find a way to help his people. His actions were bad but had the best of intentions.

Boz glanced at the Drowned. Would he have mercy?

"I tried to save them," Boz said, "I thought I was helping them."

The Drowned nodded slowly, as an acknowledgment of his good intentions.

"That does not diminish your part in their deaths," the Drowned said. "What do you choose?"

What even were the options? Pull the plug? Not pull the plug? What even would happen if he did, or did not, do what the Drowned wanted him to do? What was the point of giving him these options?

But Boz tried to decipher it nonetheless. It must be a part of the punishment. Having a choice, which may lead to equally horrifying punishments. Boz took his time, to make sure he was going to make the best choice.

"Boz!"

Boz frowned. Was that Mikayla?

The Drowned slowly turned his head to the shore. "Your friends have come."

Boz looked at the beach. There, near the small incline where Boz met the Drowned, stood Mikayla, Brady, and Boomer. Lanny wasn't with them – of course his cousin wouldn't be bothered to save the kings' friends. If anything, he probably took his chance to rig up another trap inside the castle.

"Boz, don't do it!" Boomer yelled.

"Don't do the thing that it wants you to do!" Brady added, sounding less confident as he spoke.

"What will it be?" The Drowned asked him, pulling his mind back to the choice at hand. But Boz was distracted now – distracted by the audience he'd gathered at the incline. They were talking amongst each other while Boz tried to figure out what he should do.

"Don't give in," Mikayla shouted, "You didn't do anything."

Brady and Boomer discussed with Mikayla whether that was the best choice (after all, he must've done something wrong), but this wasn't just Mikayla trying to support Boz. Her words echoed inside his mind, resonated through them, and found the small part inside his brain that wasn't numb, that was still thinking about everything that was going on, that was still trying to find a way out of this.

Mikayla was right. He didn't do anything.

With this surge of hope, Boz tore his gaze away from the plug and looked at the Drowned, an incredulous look on his face.

"I didn't do anything," he said. He could barely believe it. "I choose not to cooperate."

The Drowned shook his head slowly, in disappointment. "Make a choice."

Boz wasn't going to let this spirit boss him around anymore – not while he knew what he now knew. Not while he had finally connected the dots in such a way that he could get out of this situation.

"You're supposed to punish people who've committed horrible crimes – crimes that have happened," Boz said. He tried to contain his happiness and his laughter. "Mindu is still afloat. It hasn't sunk. You cannot punish me for something that hasn't happened yet."

The Drowned was not confused. He knew what Boz was saying and looked disappointed with Boz. He didn't want his latest victim to be right, but he was. His discontent only grew as Boz added more and more to his working theory which was all true.

"When the island does sink, King Boz of Mindu is at fault, not me. And you can't touch him, because royals enjoy immunity from spirit punishment on these islands." Boz looked at the Drowned defiantly. "You cannot punish me. Bring me back to Kinkow."

The Drowned was silent for a couple of moments, during which Boz's newfound confidence rapidly faded. At long last, the Drowned spoke again.

"This would not have killed you," the spirit said solemnly. "It would have taught you a lesson. About the value of life. About the ways of Fate." He stared directly into the young guard's soul, and it unsettled Boz deeply – as if the spirit had his soul in his grasp. "Do not mess with Fate, Boz. It will lead to destruction."

Then Boz heard another whoosh and he stood back on solid ground. He took a moment to re-orientate himself. He stood on the incline with Mikayla, Brady, and Boomer around him. When he looked out at sea, the wooden platform was gone.

He took a breath of relief. It was over. He successfully talked his way out of it.

"Boz!"

The three were happy that the guard was still with them. They were all relieved he was back, just as Boz was happy to be back. The cloud that had been present in his mind had been lifted – his mind was clear, his thoughts devoid of negativity. Even his leg felt slightly better and when he looked at the mark, it had disappeared. He was no longer on the ocean's hitlist. He was fine.

"Are you okay?" Mikayla asked him. Boz nodded.

"I'm fine," Boz said. "As fine as can be." While this might haunt him for a while, he would not be experiencing these dark thoughts any time soon. and, as the Drowned told him, he was going to try not to mess with Fate. He had no idea what this meant yet, but he was going to at least try. It was the least he could do now the ocean did not have a victim.

Then there was something else he needed to address, something he did not want to go unnoticed.

"I want to thank you," Boz said.

"Really?" Boomer said, while Brady already took the thanks. Maybe the darker-skinned king had a little shred of doubt about whether they actually did something. While Mikayla may have said it, their support was more than enough for Boz, and they needed to know it was appreciated.

"It was something you said that saved me," Boz said, "You were there for me. I'm standing here because of you. So thank you."

"You're welcome," Brady said, feeling good about himself.

"Just don't ask me to do crazy stuff the next few days," Boz said. "I'm… I'm gonna need a break."

Boz was going to take some time to let his leg rest. To let his mind rest; he did not want to have to deal with any of the strange things Brady and Boomer were going to get into. He was going to have a hard time letting go of not knowing what Lanny was going to try to do, and didn't want to have that many stressful factors into his life the next few days.

"Okay," Boomer said. "We won't involve you."

With these words and a final nod from Boz, the kings thought their work was done and they returned to their castle. Now only Mikayla was left with Boz.

"Mikayla," Boz said. He realized his behavior was appalling and wanted to apologize to her specifically as well. She did not need to know anything he told her, but it just came out. Hopefully, she wouldn't look too deeply into it.

"I'm glad you're still here," she said.

"It wouldn't have killed me, but I'm sure in a better place because of you," Boz said. She'd said the words that made him safe. He was standing there because of her. "Thanks for trying. And for putting up with me. I was a bitch back in your room and—"

"That was the mark. No need to apologize," Mikayla told him with a reassuring smile. "Go take a rest."

Boz nodded. "I will."

Together, they walked back to the castle. Boz knew he was going to fall fast asleep when he hit his bed; this was just one of those draining experiences that left him a wreck, and Boz was looking forward to the next twenty-four hours of sleep.