Erik's POV

I stepped into the cage, bracing myself for what I would find, not believing from where I stood that there was nothing present. There must be something. I was on alert. There was no sign of a wild beast. No incoherent gurgles, no dreadful roars, there was only silence.

Not a sound floated through the air. I fingered the hilt of my dagger. This was not right. Not right at all.

Perhaps the Shah had not planned a fight tonight, and I was waiting on something that would never appear. No, that would not happen. The Shah was always ahead of himself.

I strode to the middle of the cage, awaiting my attacker. Guardedly, I circled the cage, eyeing every corner. It wasn't until I turned back to my original position that I saw it. What looked like dozens of eyes were on me; human eyes. Angry hollers broke the silence, and at least thirty men or better charged forward.

My eyes widened in shock. Could I defeat such a large group? Acting on pure instinct, I gripped my dagger and began thrashing.


Rosalyn's POV

Tonight was the night I had been dreading since my dream. Tonight would be the night that I would deliver the news of my failure. I would be seen for what I really am, weak and incompetent. I was given one mission only, and I couldn't accomplish it. Father would be so ashamed.

The loud squeal of the rusting door interrupted my thoughts. They're here.

"Rosa?" Warmth coursed through my heart.

I knew that voice anywhere. That voice which read me bedtime stories and comforted me so when Mama left.

"Father! Oh Father I have missed you so much." I heard the sound of a key fiddling with a lock, and the door was swung open.

I jumped into my father's embrace.

"How are you? Are you alright? Have the guards been feeding you?" Papa had always been overbearingly protective, but now I couldn't complain.

I smiled widely at him.

"Oh father, I am fine, really. I am just so glad that you are here!"

My father's presence had lifted my mood. Not even my bad news would upset me now. There was a slight cough, and we both turned to face the man with Father, his associate.

"Rosalyn, have you learned anything yet?" There was the reason for my previous foul mood. I frowned slightly.

"No, not yet. Erik is a difficult person to get to know. He refuses to talk to me about anything but myself. I fear this may take a while yet."

I was relieved to hear what came from his mouth next.

"I figured as much. You will most likely be here for a few more weeks. Are you prepared to handle that?"

My father shot me a pleading glance. He hated me being here and no doubt wanted me to say no, that I wanted to go home. And I did want to go home, more than anything, but I couldn't abandon what I had started. So, I replied in the affirmative.

After exchanging hugs and farewells, the daroga informed us that their time was up. My heart sank at that. It was difficult saying goodbye to my mother in a dream, and it was even more difficult saying goodbye to my father in reality.

"Be safe, Rosa," my father murmured before the door was shut and I was once again jailed.


Erik's POV

This was madness. Yes, I was going mad.

The Shah must have wanted me dead. He must know that no man, no matter how trained, could ever kill thirty men singlehandedly. Of course, I wasn't so sure that the Shah actually considered me a man. He thought I was a killing machine, void of all emotion.

And at the moment, I certainly wasn't doing anything to convince him otherwise.

My dagger pierced men's abdomen, it decapitated some, and it even went so far as to gouge eyes out. I had no control over the evil thing. It was as if the last ounce of life residing in me was being transferred to it.

As I killed men, seemingly with ease, my limbs grew heavier. This was exhausting. I consoled myself with thoughts of Rosalyn sleeping safely in her cell. I just had to finish with this. Keep going. Don't stop until they're all lifeless, and then I would be able to retreat into the darkness.

I would lie on the cold concrete and relax a bit. I would immerse myself in the sound of Rosalyn's sweet voice. Now I desperately longed for this fight to be over. I wanted to be in my cell passing words with the girl who needed me.

A hiss escaped my lips as I found myself being attacked. A boy, thinner even than I was, punched me square in the jaw. Scrambling to my feet, I bore down on the boy. Just as I was about to finish him off, I noticed it.

It was small indeed, but still painstakingly clear. On his wrist laid painfully familiar scars. I studied his marred skin, and then glanced to my own wrist, remembering when the Shah had put them there. Finally, I looked in his face and found him staring right back at me. His eyes were dull and lifeless. I understood that look thoroughly.

It dawned on me then that he didn't want to be here, none of them wanted to be here. This group was the product of a scheming, sniveling Shah. Of course I knew that the Shah was a criminal, and perhaps even insane, but I had never imagined that he would stoop to this level.

He didn't want me dead, he wanted them dead, and I was a profitable way of doing it. Oh how convenient this was for him! Have the disfigured freak wipe out his problems, while charging an audience an unruly amount.

It sickened me to think that by doing this, I was helping the Shah in his sinister ways. I was still his little slave, even though he wouldn't even bother to order me about anymore. He was manipulating me in a way that I had never considered. I had made a point of not resisting when the guards would haul me out of my cell, just so I could say that he wasn't forcing me into anything. I would rather be a killer of my own volition than his pawn.

Yet, doing this willingly was only making it that much easier for him. At this, I stopped dead. I would not bend to his will any longer.

Bracing myself, I squeezed my eyes shut and sat down, welcoming the darkness to take over.


Rosalyn's POV

My hands skimmed along the concrete walls as I paced. My heart was hammering in my ears loudly. My breath came out in short gasps, and perspiration was beginning to form on my brow.

Why wasn't he back yet? He was taking far too long. He was always back by now. My mind reeled as I considered the possibilities. I was never told where he was taken off to, but I knew that it was an unpleasant experience. For all I knew, he was chained to a wall and beaten senseless.

That image was something I did not need to imagine. Erik had to be okay. He had to be. He was my last chance at ever finding my mother. He was my last chance at living happily again. I knew that Erik knew what was going on; he just didn't want to tell me. And this irritated me to no end, but I was certain that within time, I could convince him to tell me. I would work on that when he came back. I desperately needed him to be here. I needed to talk to him.

Feeling there was nothing else I could do, I sank to my knees and prayed silently for the return of the boy with all the answers.