Remember Me

The smog was gone, and the flames died as there was nothing left to ruin. All that was left was the rubbish the cruel strike left behind.

Anthony didn't sleep. It felt impossible. His mind raced unbearably fast with thoughts he couldn't even make out. He felt like his heart was ripped out and sat in front of him. Taunting his soulless, meaningless body.

He was sitting in the cove with pages he stole from a closed shop late in the night spread around him. It was a map of the land that went on for miles. It showed every other kingdom within the proximity. Anthony had limited his options down to two.

No matter what, he was going to find his master. And he was going to kill him. A life for a life, it was only fair. The unspoken rule of this atrocious world.

This wasn't the first time his old master had sabotaged their village. But this would be the last.

The first time was just a robbing. Something Anthony knew all too well. There was no point in bothering with it. He knew how his master moved; there was no reason to go after him, he would get away.

He remembered when they were friends. It was just before George came into his life. He and his master would run, and run, and run for miles. Never looking back, refusing to stop and take a moment to capture the forbidden realm around them. It was what freedom felt like. He remembered the purple flowers he would always pick. his master would just watch.

One time, they had stolen a sheep—it was a first place sheep from some fair nearby. They kept it as a friend until it died. They held a funeral for it. Anthony had gotten attached to the poor animal. His master supported him through the rough patch and promised him a new companion. It never happened though.

They sat around a makeshift campfire, telling stories and talking about their future. Anthony always talked about being a knight. It was the one thing his master disagreed with. He talked about taking down every kingdom that he stumbled upon. Ruining hierarchy as they knew it step by step. He didn't like the government. It ended in countless quarrels amongst them, but never any hard feelings attached by the end. They knew what each other wanted, even if they weren't ready to accept that fact.

He remembered looking up at the sky, the sun shining through his fingers, and the gentle breeze around him that ruffled his hair and danced in the leaves. His master was collecting fish in a nearby river. Meanwhile, Anthony was tasked with collecting sticks for a fire.

The crunching of the leaves didn't bother Anthony much; he just assumed it was a rabbit or a fox.

"You done yet, Solace?" Anthony asked, spinning around. But the river wasn't behind him anymore. He unknowingly wandered too far. "Solace?"

He let out a deranged sigh, not ready to stumble his way around the trees he didn't recognize very well. But he was stopped not even a quarter of the way back. His eyes caught on to something bright blue in the distance. A blanket, perhaps? That would be good for the winter. He could bring that back for his master.

Anthony began walking towards the thing he assumed to be a bunch of cloth, but more of a figure came into view. It definitely wasn't a blanket. He squinted his eyes.

"Hello?" He asked, approaching the person whose back he could only see.

The boy stood up and turned toward the direction he was called from.

Anthony eyebrows furrowed, then jumped in surprise. "George?"

"Anthony? What are you doing out here?" Prince George asked, tilting his head in confusion. He acted like his being out in the forest was a normal occurrence.

"I could ask you the same thing. I thought you weren't allowed out of the castle," he set the bundle of sticks to the side as he talked. He dusted his hands off, trying to prevent any pieces of wood from penetrating his skin through the gloves he wore.

"I'm not. That's what makes it fun," George responded with a toothy grin.

"You're going to be in so much trouble," he laughed back, greatly amused. "You're covered in mud." Anthony got close to George. He licked his thumb and tried scrubbing some of the dirt patches off of his face.

"No I won't. It'll be fine!" George tried to convince the taller boy. He scrunched his face up in objection to Anthony's actions, but it didn't do anything. "Anyway, why are you here?"

"My master and I are gathering materials," Anthony answered, only half interested in the conversation. He was concentrating on rubbing the mud off George's face. He knew he would be sent to hell if he returned looking like that."We ran out. I'm getting wood for a campfire tonight."

"Does that mean you'll come to the cove tonight? It's been five days. I'm lonely," George pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Anthony shook his head as he suppressed his titter. "You're so clingy. Yes, I'll be there tonight. I'll meet you in the garden."

"Okay. Good."

"Okay." Anthony left his hand on George's cheek. He gave up on trying to clean the stains. George leaned into the careful touch. The spark between them would always stay, no matter how far apart they were.

"Anthony? Where are you?" Anthony's attention shot in the direction the calls were coming from. His master must have been ready to find camp.

Anthony pressed his lips together, unprepared to leave just yet. At least he would be able to escape later. He was only able to move his hand away a few inches before George grabbed it. "Why don't you stay?"

"You know I can't." Anthony's other hand met with George's to cup their hands together tightly.

"You can, Anthony. You can live with me. You're almost eligible to become a knight! Anthony.." George stared longingly into Anthony's tired green eyes.

"I will one day. And I'm going to be your trusty knight, my highness. I promise," Anthony smiled assuringly. "I don't break promises."

George nodded, accepting that as an answer. Before letting go of the future knight's hand, he stood on his tiptoes to kiss Anthony's cheek softly. "I'll see you tonight."

Anthony hummed his response and tore his hand away. He grabbed his sticks and gave George one last tender smile, before running off. "I'm here, master!"

Anthony chuckled lightly at the memories. He rubbed the forming tears at the edge of his eyes away and returned to his work.

He and his master grew apart because of their different futures. Though, a part of him was happy Solace had successfully taken down some kingdoms. Anthony was always the first to hear about another surrounding palace falling around them. If he hadn't lost everything, he might not have minded the burning of his own faction. He could've lived the life he and George truly wanted...But that wasn't the case.

He gripped his pencil tightly, growing angry as his thoughts raced on. All he could think of was feeling the satisfaction of ending his once friend, his new enemy. Even if it meant the downfall of his own life, he would be doing it for George.

He looked around him. It was so empty now. The fireflies were gone, the lanterns looked a little duller now, and the water was quiet. He had become numb to the world within a few hours. He didn't care about the stars above him anymore, or the ground beneath him. He didn't care about the fish they had named dumb names like "Cornelius" and "Oswald". His heart was empty, the life in his drained with George's.

Passion charred inside him. He was desperate to make the right trip, to do the right thing. He would do it for George.

"Keep your eyes closed," George giggled, dragging Anthony through the vines. "It's a surprise."

"You're going to push me in the water, aren't you?" Anthony sounded unamused, yet obeyed anyway.

"No! That was one time."

"Five times, actually," Anthony corrected. George just scoffed it off.

They had stopped moving now; he could feel the young prince's presence in front of him. George wrapped his hands around Anthony's. "Okay, now.." he guided their hands down, and he stepped out of the way.

Anthony's eyes darted around the scene for a few moments before a lovesick smile appeared on his face.

"I know it's not much, but I did what I could...," George said bashfully.

Anthony looked at the little picnic set up ahead of him. Candles were lined up around the island they stood on. There was a bouquet of flowers lying on the quilt.

"I love it," Anthony whispered breathlessly.

"You do?"

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I? I love everything you do." Anthony looked at him with soft eyes. George was timidly rubbing his chest with an unsure look. "Hey." Anthony caught up with the prince's anxious state. He talked to him quietly, making sure to sound truthful and real. He hand slid under George's jaw, tilting his head to face him. He could see the uncertain look in his eyes. "This is beautiful."

George immediately lightened up at the comforting words and the placid touch. "Okay." He croaked quietly.

Anthony tore off from George to go investigate further. He picked up the flowers, recognizing most of them from the forest from earlier that day. "Is this why you were out?" He smelt them, taking in the mixed aroma of the posy.

George nodded. "Yeah."

"Aw, you risked your life for me. Cute," Anthony teased. That earned him a quiet and annoyed 'Shut up' from the other boy. He knew how strict the rules were around the palace. He didn't go a single day when he was around the prince without hearing about how much he hated the life he had. "They're pretty. Thank you."

George took a seat, a beaming grin on his face now. Anthony found his spot, his head in George's lap. George's fingers danced through Anthony's dirty blonde hair. "You should've washed your hair when you were at the creek."

Anthony scrunched up his nose, pretending to be hurt. "I took a bath a few days ago! My hair can't be that dirty."

"I'm just messing with you!" George laughed, flicking the boy's cheek.

Anthony rubbed his eyes harshly, coming out of his memory bubble. He kept an arm laying over his face, blocking out the sun that shone brightly overhead. He didn't remember falling asleep.

The owl that had followed him the previous night was still sat in the tree. he tried throwing rocks at it to shoo it away, but it didn't budge. He was stuck with a pet. It shook itself off any leaves or branches stuck in its fur.

Anthony groaned. "You're still here..." He forced himself to sit up, though he would rather sink into the floor and never come out. "What do you want?"

The owl just blinked at him. Anthony rolled his eyes and scoffed to himself. "I'm talking to an owl..." he combed his fingers through his messy hair. "Alright...owl, we aren't staying here forever. We have to get moving. Soon."

The owl flew to the ground, landing on the map Anthony had laid out. "You're going to crinkle them, get off." The animal didn't listen, though—instead it just peck it's beak right into the map. "Hey! You're ruining it! I need that!" Anthony got irritated and moved to owl. The owl just looked at him again. He raised a brow and slowly looked back at the map.

"There?" He said like he expected a genuine answer from a bird. The owl fluttered it's wings and chirped a response. Anthony looked down in defeat. He thought he was going crazy. He dragged his hand down his face. "Am I really going to listen to an animal...I'm like some fairytale princess..."

He has no other ideas to find his old master for certain, though. "Fine." He folded the map and shoved it into his satchel, which he also stole, and stood. "You coming?" The owl perched itself on Anthony's shoulder in response.

Anthony gave the cove one last look, letting out a quiet sigh. If it comes to the worst, this would be the last time he'd be there.

He knew his way around the land pretty well. He hadn't travel in a while, but his instincts were never wrong. He had been to the Tundra plenty of times in his past. It was Solace's favorite place to stay. It would make sense that he was living there.

It was lonely. Anthony never walked alone. He never left someone's side when on a journey. He always had Solace. Or George. But now he was alone. He couldn't just talk to an owl. Stupid bird.

He found it ironic that an owl was following him, though. George liked owls. He couldn't count the amount of hidden owls in the paintings around the castle. He remembered seeing an owl while walking with George the night before. He remembered George pointing it out. It must've been the same one on his shoulder now...

"What's your name?" Anthony asked. Of course, there wasn't an answer. Bird's don't talk. He stuck the long branch he found in and out of the ground as he walked. It didn't do much, but he thought it was some form of entertainment. "Herman?" The owl didn't respond. "Charles? Zachary?" he bit his cheek, trying to come up with a name. "Oliver?" he suggested. The bird chirped happily at that. "Oh, okay. Hi Oliver. Guess you'll be spending the next day and a half with me until we get there... At least that means I won't be alone."

Oliver rubbed its head against Anthony's face, purring softly as it expressed affection.

Anthony wasn't used to walking so much. He tried staying the forest. He walked along a river for as long as he could. His shoes were wet and muddy, which made his trip uncomfortable, but there was nothing he could do. The extra weight from the sleeping ball of fur on his shoulders was not making the trip any easier. But, it was comforting. It felt like George was there in a way...

He knew every twist and turn of the woods he walked in. He had run through them far too many times. He wasn't well-liked around villages he stumbled across. Along with Solace, they were just thieves. But, they had to survive somehow without money.

His legs were tired, the sun was setting, and it was getting too hard to see much. His head kept dropping out of exhaustion, and he lost count how many times he almost fell over. Oliver was waking up more—stupid nocturnal animals.

Anthony used his past knowledge to make a small bonfire to keep him warm through the night. Oliver was gone, probably doing whatever owls did at night. Anthony curled into a ball next to the flame, trying his best to preserve warmth.

A whole day without George. And the days would go on and on like that. For years. Anthony would be alone until the day he got to reunite with his beloved king again. But he had to wait for that...

"You'll have to catch me first!" George laughed loudly as he ran around the forest. It was his seventeenth birthday. They had just escaped the bustling party that was being thrown inside. They preferred they get dirty and run around as opposed to being trapped in a room full of old people and princesses they didn't even know.

Anthony was going easy on him. He was much faster than George, but he wanted to give the prince a head start. "You asked for it!" Anthony picked up the pace. Once he got close enough, he grabbed George's hand and spun him around. They faced each other now, their chest touching and their hands intertwined. George's face visibly heated up quickly, and he tensed up. Anthony looked at him with a sly smirk. "Hey."

"Hi, 'tony," George squeaked.

"I caught you. Now what?" Anthony cocked a brow, waiting to see if George had anything clever to respond with.

George took a second to think. Within a swift movement, they were now on the ground with George hovering over the dirty blonde boy. "Hey."

"Hi George. You look very pretty up there."

"Thank you, 'tony. You're very pretty yourself." George tried to hide his embarrassment with a confident tone, but Anthony could easily hear past it.

"I'm getting all dirty," Anthony frowned.

"You're dirty anyway. You live out here," George scoffed without care.

Anthony shrugged. "Fair."

"Why don't you move in yet? I told you we have a room. You can be a knight next year, you know? Please?" George frowned. Pleading eyes looked down into his. It was irresistible. But he had to fight against it.

"You ask this every time, George. I will. Next year. I haven't talked to my master about it yet. Even if he hates me for it, I'll do it." Anthony assured the prince. "I promise. And I don't break promises."

George sat comfortably on Anthony's lower waist. Their hands were still twirled together tightly. If they let go, it might be the last for a while. They couldn't risk that.

"Crickets are loud. Wish it was just us out here," George frowned, clearly aggravated by the constant chirping noise.

"I think it's quite nice. Sets nice tone. Two boys out in the middle of the night, coming from an unnecessarily loud party. Perfect atmosphere change," Anthony hummed. George just slapped the thief's cheek softly—he wasn't fond of being objected to. Anthony's nose scrunched in response.

"Anthony? Where are you? You're going to get caught if you don't hurry up!" Their heads shot in the direction of Solace. He had finally caught on to where Anthony escaped to in the depths of the night.

..Not to mention the time he snuck up on Anthony and George when they were supposed to be stealing. Anthony was sitting at the prince's window, one leg hanging over the ledge and one up on the seal. Solace had far too many apples in his pouch to look normal and was eager to get out.

"Anthony! What the hell are you doing?" The master didn't yell, but it was loud enough for Anthony to hear from ten feet above. He nearly jumped out of his skin with a yelp, causing him to fall into the window and into George's room. George just burst out laughing like an idiot while Anthony rubbed his injured head.

"Is that the Solace guy?" George choked through cackles.

An irritated huff came from Anthony as he moved back to the window. "Hi, Solace...." He said ashamedly. He turned back to George. "He doesn't know that we know each other."

That only made George laugh more, "you're in so much trouble." This was amusing to him. Anthony glared at him before his attention returned to his friend down below.

"Is this what you've been doing when you leave me at night?" He looked up, confused, astonished, and in a way betrayed.

"Possibly!" Anthony smiled cheekily, knowing he was going to be lectured to hell and back once he got down.

Solace let out a disappointed sigh and rubbed his temples. It took everything in his power not to yell. Yelling would make it worse. "I got everything we need for the next two weeks, let's go. Now."

Anthony bit his lips. He turned back to George, grabbed his hand, and held it close to his chest. "Until we meet again, my prince."

George smiled softly, "Until we meet again."

Anthony kissed George's forehead gently before tearing away and climbing down the vines that grew down the tower.

Anthony gave one last look at George before disappearing for three months.

"Guess you have to go?" George looked down at him with an upset frown.

"I guess so. Promise I won't be gone for long." George didn't respond and just rose off of Anthony. He was clearly upset by the situation. He was tired of watching Anthony run off for god knows how long with a man that didn't even like him for the sole reason he was royalty.

Anthony got up on his own and dusted off leaves and dirt. "You can't stay?" Anthony's heart sank hearing how truly bothered George was by this. He never had a problem with it in the past, so why was it different? He just shook his head slightly,

"I'm sorry."

"You can stay. Please..." George's voice cracked with desperation. Anthony stared at him. He wished he could stay.

"I'll see you soon, my love." Anthony held onto the strap of his bag tightly. He gave George a firm nod before running in the opposite direction. Guilt pushed on his chest and infected his heart with a poisonous sickness he couldn't get rid of. He wanted nothing more than to stay with George. To live a life with George.

And he would. He promised he would.

.

"Ow! Ow! Stop it!" Anthony whined in a hoarse morning voice. He waved the owl's pecking beak away from his face. "Good morning to you too...," he groaned. The dew from the grass below him seeped through his clothes. An uncomfortable feeling he didn't enjoy in the slightest. He wiped his face of the earths mist and pushed himself up, unprepared for the day ahead of him.

The fire was burnt out. He was starving, which made him feel ill. He could steal something on the way there...it was fine.

"You ready to go?" he looked at the bird. It fluttered its wings happily. Anthony chuckled to himself quietly. He ruffled his hair before standing up and grabbing his bag. "Okay little guy. Let's go. Today's the day we get our revenge." He could feel the adrenaline begin to set in his body. He stood up straight and marched onward.

His trusty sword swung in its sleeve that hung on his back. Oliver sat comfortably on his shoulder; his bag bounced against his thigh with every step he took. The breeze whistled around him, the grass crumbled under. Everything was almost perfect.

Almost perfect.

The emptiness carried within him. He felt like nothing but a body with organs. He had no purpose. There was no one he could protect, no one to watch over. No one to call his best friend or the love of his life. The blade pierced through his beating heart. It never stopped beating, though. It persisted. The ringing in his ears got louder and louder as the moments surrounded him. Haunting him. He could never have them back. He could never reach out and just hold those sacred times ever again. The laughter from George died into nothing but a figment in time, something that would never be heard again. His hurt morphed into nothing but blood seeking rage.

His hands tremor'd uncontrollably. He clenched the fabric of his hoodie tightly in his fingers. He could only see the line of direction he was walking in. Everything else was dark. There was no reason to look elsewhere. He couldn't turn to be awestruck by the beautiful boy he met when he was five. He couldn't turn and see Solace, with his sword drawn to fend off the guards as they made their escape out of a town for the second time that day, or open arms providing him warmth and safety..

He could only drag himself through an endless tightrope. One wrong step and he might trip and never stop falling.

He didn't want to fall.

The deep, eternal pit of anger and sorrow. Denial was like a blurred hand, choking him and throwing him down. Further and further he went. Grief was a hand over his mouth, muffling his cries for help. No one would hear him. Not even himself.

The only way to escape was to cut off the enemy. Watch it shrivel away in its own actions. Drowned in it's misery, but never regret. Villains didn't feel regret.

Anthony felt regret. He let go.

He thought George was secured in his grip. Right behind him. Like he always was.

Anthony was the way out, the ground to the head that was tied to the clouds and trapped in a fantasy world.

He always thought it was George that had his silly little world. Full of unachievable heights and nonexistent lows.

It was all a lie. Anthony only lied to himself.

He never slept; he never got time to truly be alone. George intoxicated his mind.

He was trapped in his mind. Of the world they always talked about. The little cottage they imagined in the middle of nowhere, secluded from society. It would be just them.

Selfish, he was selfish.

The word slapped him in the face. He did it all for himself. He's going to an ice covered land for the sake of his own benefit. To watch the person he once called a friend leave his life behind. To own up to his actions and pay for taking George from him. He wanted to be the one to take that life away.

It wasn't what George wanted.

But George wasn't there to tell him what to do. There was no stopping him.

He could rebuild a civilization without the fear of being stricken by the formidable Solace. He would be king and continue George's legacy. Finish his unwritten novel.

It may have started with the birth of Prince George, but it would end with the ruling of Knight Anthony. Everyone would know their story. Their friendship was never really called companionship.

The chirping of the birds, the stomping of his boots, the rustling of his pants, the slapping of his bag. It drove him mad. The emptiness itched in his brain. There was nothing, no words, no thoughts. He couldn't run a mile a minute as he trudged through the land he couldn't name. He was on autopilot.

There was no stopping. Not until it was over.

Oliver cooed and flew away from him. Lifting the one living thing he had away from him. He reached out but couldn't call him back.

Oliver landed on a branch and nestled there comfortably. Anthony blinked a few times. The world cleared up. He stood in a forest that grew colder by the step. The snow that landed in his nose and speckled across his body. He couldn't feel it though.

But he made it. He could see his breath in the air. The tundra.

It was the place his gut swore to never return to.

"Where are you going?" The old master huffed. The creaking of the floorboard was not in Anthony's favor. He hadn't realized his friend was still awake.

He froze and pivoted in Solace's direction. "Oh. You know. We need more meat, right? I was going hunting." He stood up tall and stiff. He tried plastering a convincing grin on his face.

Solace looked out the window. "In the middle of the night?"

"Yup! Best time to hunt! I got my bow, my sword. Everything I need!" He pointed to his supplies.

"What is today?" Solace asked. He was now staring out the window, avoiding direct contact with the dirty blonde.

"August....12th," Anthony bowed his head. His shoulder's fell forward, breaking his tense stature.

"Your birthday."

"Yeah," Anthony breathed quietly. "Eighteenth birthday."

HIs master pulled something out of his pocket. It was a letter. "Delivery isn't good out here. Your letters just come right back. Especially when it's from a convict. They wouldn't deliver a letter from a criminal to a prince," he spat harshly. He kept it shut and waved it in between his fingers.

Anthony's eyes widened in horror. He knew exactly what was written in that letter. "Solace, I can explain—"

"I don't want your explanation!" His master's voice was still low, but he was intimidating. Anthony flinched and took a step back. He took a few steps forward. "You're going to leave me. I give you all of these things, and you're leaving me? Huh? Is this not enough for you?"

"No, it's not like that—"

"Yea it is!" Solace flipped the note open. A deranged chuckle escaped from him. "Yes it is...I did everything for you...We were best friends... We built this together. I thought we agreed—...promised. I thought we promised we would have each other no matter what. No matter the trouble of the crime." His master read the note over again. Anthony watched his eyes scan the page. He looked over at him. The sadness in his eyes was nothing Anthony had ever seen. He didn't think Solace could feel. "And Anthony never breaks a promise, right?"

His heart shattered. "I..." He couldn't muster a single word. Solace was right. He never broke a promise.

"Don't go on making promises you can't keep. You'll be backed into a cave. Full of broken words you never truly meant. They will only come back to bite you in the future, you can't escape it. There's never an escape," Solace lectured. "Your promises to me weren't really promises, were they? Just scattered tasks you never planned to do. You never planned to stay with me the way you promised. You can't keep a promise. You never could. No one can. It's a word tossed in the air far too often to mean a single thing. Not the way it used to."

"Give that to me. That wasn't for you," Anthony snarled. His hand was firmly wrapped around his sword's handle.

Solace threw his head back, amused. "I teach you how to fight. I give you nice things, a cozy place to stay. Somewhere where we didn't have to flee anymore. Safety." He watched the blade slowly begin to reveal itself from Anthony's sheath. "Do you know what a home is? Somewhere you can feel safe, loved. I respected you. I trusted you."

"I made this sword," Anthony jarred defensively.

"In a few years time, when you come crawling back, you're still going to have that? You can't let it go." His master paced around the room as he talked, his hands tied to each other behind his back. "Why?"

"What?" Anthony's tone was much lighter than his old master's. He wanted to be reasonable, rational.

"Is it for the castle? The place in that godforsaken government we criticized day by day and swore to overthrow? The title? Knight "'Tony...'" Anthony felt like he was being mocked. His morals were being thrown around the room like it was a game of fetch. "Your promise to George?"

"My promise to George," Anthony repeated quietly to himself.

"I found you in a basket when you were a child. Maybe two at most. I was ten at the time. No home. Not a family or a cent to my name. The first time I took you out hunting, you were five." Solace stopped walking. He looked at the ground, reflecting on the life he lived. "You had a fire in your heart for hunting. I could see that. You begged me to go out, to take you out into the wild. We trained for only a few days. But, you were good with a bow for a five year old. You wandered off. I was worried sick." He paused, hearing the sword slide back down into its sleeve from across the room. "I saw you and this boy at the creek. You were splashing each other with water. It was heartwarming. Eventually, I called you back so we could return back to camp. You sat on a log the rest of the day, staring out into the empty forest that surrounded us.

"The next day, you begged me to go hunting again. So we did. Then it continued. Every day you wanted to go hunting. More than not, you would never see the boy. This went on for years, too. I could always tell when you saw him, but the way you carried yourself back to me. The bright smile on your face compared to the despondency on the days you couldn't find him. I never thought, though, you would promise him your life behind my back," he harshly turned back to Anthony. "To use me for my skills and resources. While filling his heart with the same things you told me. When did that start? When did you start creating fake promises to me?"

Anthony stood there for a moment. He took in the scene. He took in every word he heard and let it spin in his head before grabbing hold of it and piecing it together. He gulped deeply before clearing his throat to speak. "I don't...I don't remember. He told me about these knights... he read me stories.. very young age..."

"It's been a while."

Anthony nodded hastily, guiltily. "Yeah. It has...years...I promised him—"

Solace raised a hand to stop him. "I know. It's why you've been asking me to teach you every day for the past year. Why did you use me for coaching and assistance. When will it be enough for you? To continue to feed me with these blatant lies day by day? I even told you that you didn't have to help me. I just told you to stay. And you lied to me. Used me."

"I did. I'm sorry..." Anthony admitted.

"No, you're not." The master was disgusted. He couldn't fathom what was happening.

"I'm sorry." Anthony nodded. He opened the door and let it slam shut. He ran. And he didn't stop running until he couldn't anymore. He woke up in George's castle the next morning. The prince hovered over him.

"Hey, Anthony...you're home," he smiled with relief when Anthony's eyes fluttered open.

Home. He was back to square one. Running around aimlessly, living off of the land's resources. Stealing what he could. Camping with little shelter. The same way he did growing up.

Home was a distant word. It was meaningless. Tossed around so much that it lost its drift.

The snow crunched loudly under his boots. He shivered, unprepared for just how freezing it was. Oliver hooted happily and flew ahead, leading Anthony in the right direction. His hands were hooked to his arms, trying to preserve as much warmth as possible.

"I forgot how cold it was out here," he scoffed as he muttered to himself.

He remembered the forest. He remembered climbing the trees as he watched Solace hunt for the day.

"Will you get down from there? You're going to fall," Solace scolded from below.

Anthony let out a hearty laugh. "I'm fine! You just do your own thing. Don't worry about me." He walked around the sturdy tree branches. He had much better balance than he did years ago. He had gotten far too many concussions from slipping from a high branch. It was a miracle he was still alive.

"I'm not catching you," Solace responded, putting some of his kills into a bag. "If you die, that's on you."

Anthony just shrugged it off with a chuckle. "You're dramatic." He spoke. He found a sturdy branch to sit on and swung his feet over the side as he stared down at his friend.

"I'm cautious. And I care about you." Solace stated what he thought was an obvious fact.

"Aw, you care!" Anthony teased. He watched his master throw the bag against the tree and begin to climb up. He sat on another branch nearby. "Do you like it up here?" He asked, tilting his head.

"It's nice. Can't see much from here. It's all covered by trees."

Anthony nodded in agreement. "The view is better from up there. You can see the sunset, it's beautiful. Look, the sun's about to set now! Lets go!" he hopped to his feet and quickly began climbing up higher.

Solace sat and watched for a moment. He thought Anthony was too reckless for his own good. It would get him into serious trouble one day. Nevertheless, he followed him up.

Anthony was perched on a branch. The orange and pinks of the sky bounced off of his emerald green eyes. He admired the way the place looked at this time. He would also wake up early to watch the sunrise. Sometimes Solace would watch from the window, but he couldn't imagine the awe his friend was in each morning at the clashing purples and blues in the early morning.

"I like it up here. It's calm. Safe. On the ground there are only things out to hurt you. But in the sky, it's freedom," he sighed as he heard his master arrive. "Sometimes I wish I didn't have to climb down and face the real world. I wish I could just sit here, admiring the land I may never get to explore, no matter how much I want to. It's endless, you know? We will never see much of this world. But the sunset and the sunrise are the same everywhere. No matter how much you chase it, it'll always be the same. And there will always be someone you care for looking at it too from somewhere around the world. At that same marvelous sun."

Solace didn't respond. There was nothing to respond to. He let Anthony go on his rambles without interruption. The sun disappeared, and darkness fell over the tall, snow topped trees.

"I'll cook us some dinner. You can use my coat tonight and the tent." Solace broke the silent barrier around them. "Let's go." Anthony nodded and followed him down.

The air was filled with the sweet aroma of fresh bread and cooked pork chop. He was close.

His hands tingled. He couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the nerves that pulsed through his veins. He felt like he was going insane. Killing the person that gave him the power to live. It sounded cruel. He wouldn't be crowned a hero after this, he knew that. A hero he was to himself. And to George. For George.

It was sickening. People grow up reminiscing about the old friends they once had, thinking about how life would be if they hadn't parted. Anthony didn't. He never did. He had no reason to think about his old master. Not until now.

He now stood outside the small cabin he knew too well. His body was riddled with anxiety. It was a battle between his conscious. One part of him was ready to get to the show on, the other part told him to run as fast as he could.

Run.

Run.

Run.

"You're back." His old master's deep voice bounced off the trees. His wicked chuckles followed the sinister tone. "I didn't expect it to be so soon. Welcome home."

Anthony drew his blade and held it in front of him defensively, ready to attack. The footsteps only rose his guard more. He panted; it felt like his chest was closing in on him. He couldn't breathe. This was it.

"I told you, '"Tony". I would take down every kingdom in this damned country, even if it was the last thing I ever did." He stepped out from the forest that had hidden him before. He wore a massive coat that trailed down to the ground. His armour was shiny and blue, clearly hand crafted. His hair was in a long braid behind him, and his glasses sat low on his nose. The sword he held was sharp and intimidating. But this wouldn't make Anthony back out. He was too far in.

"You lost him and came crawling back to me. Your empty promises mean nothing now, right? Now that George is gone?" Solace continued walking closer. He tapped the sword gently against his palm. "It wasn't my intention to kill him, 'tony. That's out of my control."

"You did this. You'll pay." Anthony growled bitterly.

Solace's sword stabbed into the ground, and he used it as support to lean on it. "You're the one who ran out without him, right? You're the one that let go."

The memory of George's cries flooded his mind, ringing in his ears. The memory of the life slowly draining out of the king painted over his head.

"Shut up," he hissed, shaking it off. He couldn't be vulnerable. Not now.

"You never learn how to stop. You never listened to me. You're reckless, careless. You do everything for self-benefit instead of thinking about other people. You didn't think about me when you left me years ago. You didn't think about how much danger you put George in. You dive head first into everything you do without a moment to think. You're here, standing in front of me. Someone who gave you everything. And you took it. And now you've come back. Not to apologize. Not to repair the damages. But with the thought of trying to kill me? You think you can kill me?"

"I will. I will!" Anthony shouted back. "This is it, Solace. I told you how bad of an idea it was—all of this. The whole overthrowing the government thing. How ridiculous it was. You're the one who doesn't think. You're the one who doesn't listen. Not me. I always listened to you, I took in every word you uttered. I looked up to you, but I knew better. I knew better than to let you infect me with your foul morals. You saved me because you thought I would be on your side. You thought you could use me like some puppet! And when I left, you had nothing," he spat back.

Solace ripped his sword from the grass. "Does this look like nothing to you?" He walked until he was only a few steps away from Anthony. "You're not the hero in this story. You gain nothing from this. You've lost already." The tip of the sword slid under Anthony's chin and tilted it up. "I have destroyed countless cities. And I'll continue to do that. You can't stop me, Anthony."

"You can't do that when you're dead." Anthony's sword rose and clashed against the others loudly, throwing it away from his skin.

Solace grunted with a glare. This was it. This is where it would end.

The swords hitting each other rang in his ears. He persisted; there was nothing more he wanted than to pierce the sharp weapon into his old master's torso.

Solace pushed against him with ease. He was skilled with a sword, years of teaching and practice.

Anthony ducked and dodged swiftly, but he could feel blood oozing from a wound on his face. It wasn't important.

Nothing was important.

The only thing that mattered was watching life drain from his enemy's soul. Then he would feel relief.

The sparks flew from the slashing of the blades. Heavy breaths came from both parties. It seemed like an unending battle.

He thrust the sword forward into the clear opening. The opportunity to finish this was ahead of him within seconds. Finally. It was over.

He was dizzy. He hadn't ate in hours, ran on little sleep. The adrenaline kept him going. The light inside him told him to move forward.

It was sharp. Painful. His breath hitched in his throat.

Solace stood still ahead of him. The owl hovered behind him.

The world faded into nothing.

It was all for nothing.