Otar lay on a too-small lumpy mattress while the wind howled outside. Branches banged against the windowpane, and rain lashed against the roof. The sound of rain should have been soothing to his soul, putting him to sleep, but night brought with it worries and nightmares poking his subconscious. Every creek and groan from the inn he was in put his nerves on edge.

  The darkness felt as if it was closing in.

  The walls breathed in and out.

  He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable but the blanket covering his body felt like it was covered in dry hay. Sighing, he threw back the covers and stared up at the ceiling as two things happened at the same time. The first, a single droplet of water landed on his forehead from the ceiling above, and the second, a light tap at his door. The tap sounded more like the scratching of nails than an actual knock.

  If he had been asleep, he would not have heard it.

  Was he imagining things?

  The tattooed chains on his skin pulsed a faint blue as he called them to hand. He remained still as his door slowly creaked open. The person pushing it open timed it with the howl of the wind outside to mask its opening. No one stepped through.

  Otar uttered a snore before pulling the blankets over him to cover his chains.

  Eyes semi-closed, he waited.

  The howling from outside grew stronger as the knocking from the tree branch increased. With each knock against the glass, the intruder took a step forward and waited. Another step, another wait. The process was not rushed. Otar felt eyes studying him until those eyes were directly above him. He steadied his breathing and drew on the power of his Ink.

  It would be a race to see who was fastest to attack.

  Breathing in slowly he readied himself to—

  “You are not asleep. Stop this absurd nonsense this instant,” said a nasally voice.

  Otar faked a yawn, then jerked his head back in surprise as he fully opened his eyes. “What are you doing in my room?”

  “I came to check on things.”

  Otar raised an eyebrow. “What could you possibly be checking in the middle of the night?”

  “I am a loyal dog of the Baldwin estate. As such, it is my duty to oversee that the young master is safe under this roof. We are far from any known domain and on the outskirts of the Bleeding Peaks. Although I offered my counsel again and again regarding avoiding this place, it seems he would rather listen to the likes of you instead.”

  Otar restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Every nasally word out of the fool’s mouth grated on his skin. “He listens to my counsel because I am the only one making sense. Between you and that crazy bitch Yemoja, are you surprised he only listens to my counsel?” The person went to speak, but Otar cut him off. “But that still does not explain why you are here, Clarence?”

  “Like I said, I am here to check that everything is in order.”

  Otar said nothing as he looked into the scared, burned, twisted features of Clarence. After the whole incident at Noobcity, Otar thought the man dead. Hell, he remembered his chains around Clarence’s neck. He remembered covering himself in chains while the fool used his power recklessly, blowing up a portion of Noobcity.

  He remembered leaving him to die.

  But more importantly, he remembered how confident he felt. Clarence was no longer a part of his life as he left his smouldering body behind. Otar mentally slapped himself; what was the first rule of The Other Side?

  Always make sure your enemy is dead.

  He had failed in the most basic of things. Onrick had not been pleased once he found out Clarence was still alive. Even worse still, the man either did not remember what happened back at Noobcity or was pretending to forget for some unknown reason.

  Otar believed Clarence to be an idiot, but maybe he had misjudged the man. Maybe Clarence was waiting for the right moment--

  Clarence snapped the fingers on his right hand. A red flame appeared on his middle and index finger, illuminating his face. The burned scars looked like a deformed mask. “You know, while I was in my coma, one dream--nightmare kept occurring again and again. Metal around my throat. The feeling of cold steel biting into my flesh--cutting off my airways, was one of agony. It felt like I was being waterboarded. It was the feeling I woke to, screaming from my coma. And you know what, no matter how hard I try, I can’t picture what the metal around my throat is. Who is responsible--who is the cause of my suffering? It is something that has kept me awake.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Otar smiled. “I guess you were asleep long enough.”

  Clarence’s blank mask remained as the fire on his fingers extinguished. He walked to the door.

  “You still have not told me the reason for your visit, Clarence.”

  Clarence dismissed the comment with a wave. “Jason just wanted me to check that you were okay.”

  “Why would--“

  “Remember, my green-horned friend, the fire cleanses all.” And with that, he was gone.

  ***********

  Jason looked out across a dark landscape that showed nothing but trees leaning sideways from the wind, and rain descending from the heavens like meteor showers.

  The light orb floating overhead did little to light the small room he was in. If anything, it made it worse, showcasing the stains on the mattress, the coffee stains on the small bedside writing table, and the holes in the seating cushion of the chair in front of it. It reminded him of a motel room back home. Although he never stayed in such squalor because of growing up in the family he did, he had seen enough movies.

  Speaking of family, he tapped his transponder deep in thought. The small square metal box rested idle on his lap.

  Multiple missed calls from Richard and even one from Charles signalled how much trouble he was in.

  For Charles to call him meant that father had been in his ear. He tutted and sipped from his glass of water. He looked at the glass and wished it was something stronger. Jason rarely drank, not anymore, not after what happened back on Earth with Felicity. He had been out of control, impulsive, reckless. One stupid act had nearly cost him everything—although Felicity Cooper was his girlfriend at the time, and it was his destined right as a man to take what was his, no matter what anyone else thought.

  He was a Baldwin goddammit! No, he was better than that.

  Jason looked at his drink again and saw why at moments like this, a strong alcoholic drink paired with the mood just right.

  He made a half gesture to get up and go look for something stronger when his transponder vibrated again. Charles. For him to call twice in such a short amount of time must really mean father was displeased with him.

  With a sigh, he placed his finger on the top of the transponder and watched as a little mouth with brown full lips and a pair of light green floating eyeball stalks attached to a long metal neck, like a gramophone, appeared.

  “Hello.”

  The silence stretched on the other end until Jason thought he would not get an answer. “I’m glad to see you can take time out of your busy schedule to speak to me.” Same monotone voice. Same emotionless feel.

  “Do you know what the time is here, Charles?”

  “How could I? I don’t know where you are.”

  “I’m--” Jason smiled. It was a rarity. “I’m looking out of a window, while the night wind tries to uproot the trees around the building I am in, and the rain is lashing down like something out of a biblical plague.”

  “Lashing? I see you have spent far too long with the common folk if you are using wordage like latching.”

  “Still with the rod up your ass, ay Charlie? Worried that if you enjoy yourself a little, the old man will shove his hand up there too?”

  Another prolonged silence. Another sigh. This one longer.

  “The duties of the first born--”

  “Are never complete. Because the family is like a machine that needs the will of the first and the blood of the many to survive,” said Jason. “Spare me father’s doctrine bullshit. He’s worse than a cult leader.”

  “Swearing now, too? Hasn’t father always said that swearing is a sign of a lack of intelligence?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “You must have been deaf growing up. Father swore a plenty. Impregnating that many women so he could get around one of the commandments from HIM, meant he was always dealing with baby mother drama. I felt sorry for him in a way. Would explain why I never saw him smile once.”

  “No more than one child born to a couple.

  “Technology and innovation to remain the same.

  “Half the population in the universe eased,” said Charles.

  More silence as each battled their own thoughts and demons. But this time it was Jason who broke the silence first. “I’m not coming back. Not after what happened in the Cloudwalker domain. He would have left me to rot in that cell.”

  “Maybe for a while, but it would only be to teach you a lesson. We have all had to endure…some form of punishment or another; you were just lucky that you were always too young to feel the full wrath of his fury.”

  “Yes, being ignored and left alone because I was the youngest boy really made me feel special.”

  “It should,” the first hint of irritation in Charles's voice, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “It should. We all preferred to be overlooked instead of feeling the full force of his gaze. Constantly watching, constantly judging. Never being allowed to put a foot wrong. Some of us bowed to his will and transformed ourselves into the best version of ourselves we could—some of us cracked, becoming demented, twisted things. And some of us sought escape in pleasure and indulgence.

  “You, my little brother, are the most normal out of all four of us. You could take some pride in that.”

  “I’m not so sure,” whispered Jason.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. Anyway, Charles, I’ve told you I’m not coming back so--”

  “You must come back, father needs to see you before it too--”

  “Father! Father! Father!” shouted Jason, “When has he ever put our needs first? When has he ever been there for us? I…” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Charles, but I will have to decline.”

  “The family funds—connections and everything that comes with the name shall be withheld from you until you do.”

  “Then so be it,” said Jason, “because after I’m done, father will beg to have me back.”

  “Jason, don’t do anything stupid--”

  “Too late, big bro, too late.”