Etsuya Eizan – Gold


Cold.

Calculative.

Ruthless.

He's been called many things.

.

Not that he cares.

It's a cheap price for a seat at the Round Table.

.

The others varnish their seats with skill.

He does more than that.

He brings stability. Piles of cash and mountains of silver.

They trickle down like sand in an hourglass – money is boundless, time is eternal.

.

He drowns in them, those rubies and emeralds that fall onto his plate like rain.

There's an ocean of wealth.

And it's all his.

.

But then it dries up.

All because of that one boy with gold eyes.

.

Now, all he has –

all he is

– is dirt.