The Birth of a Friendship Around a Bath

On closer inspection, the girl was attractive—if only modestly so—even though Mother Nature had blessed her with a generous bust that one might even call "arrogant" (and that's coming from me! Not as an adjective but as a comment). Our little man didn't find anything offensive about it at all… Really, men never cease to amaze.

But I can be a badmouth sometimes. Despite her ample curves, something else caught his eye—something that tickled his mind. In her gaze he saw a peculiar quality he hadn't seen for such a long time… perhaps he had never seen it before at all. Was it foolishness? Naivety? He couldn't say.

Then his attention shifted to his surroundings. He noticed that he was indeed in water—a shimmering, radiant water, tinted pink and gold. He felt so comfortable in it. So entranced by the bliss that filled him from this enchanted water that he almost forgot he was completely naked. It only hit him, through a moment of pure logical arithmetic, as he realized: "Girl + bath + nudity = HUGE EMBARRASSMENT!"

He lunged for his privates in a desperate attempt to hide them from this intruder's view, before scrambling to cover his entire body. He couldn't let her see—she would see every one of his physical flaws.

What must she think of him at that very moment?

Surely, she'd mistake him for a monster. And why was he so worried that this girl might see him as a monster?

Well, it wasn't the first time—and it wouldn't be the last!

"AAAAAA!" his brain screamed.

His erratic, disorganized movements splashed water everywhere, much to the irritation of the princess. Annoyed by such childish behavior, she folded her arms over her hips and glared at him from within the mysterious water.

"You're not completely naked, so stop flailing about!" she scolded.

She was touching him…

She was actually touching him?

YES, SHE WAS TOUCHING HIM!

And, apparently, she wasn't repulsed. What on earth was going on?

The young man was taken aback—so much so that he wanted to flee—but she held him so tightly that he'd have had to hurt her to break free.

"Don't worry," she reassured him. "They gave you a swim short before I washed you."

"Huh?"

But she was remarkably forward. She often ended up washing the strangers she met.

"Take a deep breath."

He obeyed, relaxing his muscles.

"Ah, there we go!" the young woman said delightedly. "I never thought you'd be so modest as to feel the need to flail about like that."

She released him, and he curled up in the bath filled with glittering water, hiding his face between his knees. He didn't know her, yet something about her inspired a little trust in him—after all, he was no longer in that pitiful cell; there were only two guards nearby. Those two were openly sizing him up. Had it not been for this young lady, he would have already tossed them out the window.

"Don't worry about them," the stranger said, drawing him back to her. "I have so much to ask of you, but first I want to tell you something."

The Hero raised one questioning eyebrow and slightly lifted his head.

"I want to thank you for saving me from that assassination attempt. It was the first time I came so close to death. Usually I'm saved at the last moment by a guard, a champion, my parents, my friends—or even the queen herself—but this time I was truly on the brink, and to think that a stranger like you… who I barely know… would care for me…it's so…"

She lowered her head and stared at her legs, bursting into tears.

"That's so kind!" she finally managed to say.

Feeling that her words touched something deep within him, the Hero accidentally splashed water on the young woman, drenching her completely under the startled gaze of the two guards. His clothes began to reveal his underwear and briefs, and she ordered the two guards to leave immediately.

"You can't leave us alone together with this human!"

"Would you prefer I have you executed for ogling me?"

The guards fled the room in a hurry.

"And why did you do that?" she asked.

The boy shrugged and flashed a broad, toothy smile so that she could clearly see it.

"Ah, right! I forgot—you don't speak," she reminded him playfully. "I guess I'll have to ask you only yes-or-no questions."

The Hero slowly nodded, staring straight ahead.

He dared not look her directly in the eyes because his natural shyness was resurfacing in this surreal situation. Every muscle in his body was tense as he struggled to keep his face impassive—a difficult task when faced with this long-haired brunette who showed no hostility at all. On the contrary, she seemed to have genuine sympathy for him… But having sympathy for someone doesn't mean you should be rubbing their back! What is this, a shojo romance?

"By the way, it's strange that you understand me," remarked the wingless Fairy. "It's quite rare for humans—especially one so young—to speak Oli'Ane. Are you really human?" she asked.

The Hero burst into loud laughter, startling his caretaker before she could realize he was teasing her with an amused expression that seemed to say, "Really, it's not obvious…"

"Stop laughing!" she ordered, feeling embarrassed by her own question. "You're mocking me—as if it's obvious you're human, judging by what you did at the arena and that… that dark stain covering your body."

He glanced at his reflection in the water. It was true that he didn't resemble any human or fairy that existed—it was difficult to pinpoint his racial origins. (Although as she touched him, she noticed that his ears were rounded rather than having a Darwin's tubercle like most fairies.) But that was how it was—he had chosen to possess the strength to subdue that knight and his lackeys.

"You know, since you passed out, I've tried everything to remove that dark stain from your body—rubbing it as hard as I could with the anti-curse potion I mixed into the Miraculous Bath—but nothing's changed all this time."

"Good luck removing it, then," she added. "If you sacrificed your appearance for strength, it might not be by brute force that you can get it off. It must be something that was taken from you, something you rejected yet have been seeking in your prayers since you were a child."

"Alright," she continued, "I know you can't speak, but with your fingers and my proposals, can you show me what it is?"

Or even just nod your head for the correct answer. "So then: one for the hereditary curse…"

No reaction.

"…two for the spell cast upon you…"

Still no reaction.

"…three for the magical backlash—because you humans are not very good at magic," she laughed.

Again, no reaction.

"Uh… well… four for a pact that you sealed…" she said hesitantly.

The Hero's jaw tightened, but he remained calm, showing yet again no reaction.

"Then I don't know!" the Fairy huffed. "Five for something else."

The Hero remained as unmoved as ever.

He had no desire to unload his life story on someone he didn't know—not from Adam nor Eve. Just because she saved him from two assassination attempts didn't mean he was going to become best friends with her.

"You know, I still take good care of you. You could trust me!"

That was his problem if she ever felt the need to cure his malady, lift his curse, or something similar.

"No, I understand," she quickly added in a calmer tone, "we barely know each other—in fact, we really don't know each other at all—and you wake up in a bathtub with a stranger rubbing your body and asking you questions. I admit it must be very disorienting for you. So I'll make amends and share a secret with you (not so secret, after all). Lean in close so I can tell you."

The Hero obeyed and moved closer. He cupped his ear as she brought her lips near him.

"I forgot to introduce myself to my hero, so let's start over. I am one of the princesses of Sylviana—the protective kingdom of the Fairies—which I am destined to inherit in the very near future. But my primary distinction, which isn't obvious at first glance, is that I have no name. That is my secret," she finished, pulling away from the ear of the former prisoner.

The Hero's eyes widened. He wasn't sure what shocked him more: the fact that it was a princess—one who was to become queen—tending to and bathing him, or the fact that she, too, had never been given a name.

You might think it's foolish not to have noticed that the girl he'd saved was someone important. But remember, you're witnessing the story from two perspectives… Though, admittedly, he was pretty stupid! Still, don't assume that just because she's a princess the Hero will lend more credence to her words or treat her with extra deference compared to a poor, orphaned girl. In fact, it was quite the opposite—he despised high society types; they were too far removed to notice what was happening beneath their feet. Yet the fact that she was a princess made her even more alluring, and more importantly, the fact that she had no name fascinated him even more.

"Does that surprise you?" teased the Fairy, amused by the look of astonishment on the Hero's face. "It's not every day a 'noble' goes nameless. I was renounced almost as soon as I was born because I'm different from the rest," she explained, her gaze troubled as she recalled her past yet still focusing on her task. As the saying goes, "Not naming things is like denying their existence…"

The Hero had heard that expression before from his mother, though he felt that a part of the quotation was missing from that old human thinker's words.

"Mistaking the names of things only adds to their misfortune…"

The Fairy jumped, scanning every corner of the room to discover where those words had come from. Then she faced the Hero again and stared at him intently.

"Was that you who said it?" asked the winged Fairy, before noticing that a new wound had opened on her forehead—diverting her attention to the person who had spoken those words. "How did you do that again?" she grumbled. "You're pushing your luck! I spent two hours trying to erase them!"

Erase? So fairy dust only heals physical wounds, not diseases and the like? That would have been too wonderful. Then why was she so desperate to reclaim it?

The Fairy noted that even regarding his voice, he offered no reply—and anyway, his voice was too hoarse to come from someone who seemed young at first glance. Yet with that dark stain covering his face, it was difficult to gauge his age, though she sensed he was as young as she was. Of course, all Earthly males go through puberty, and the humanoids' seemed similar to humans. So if he were truly human, he should have a voice that sometimes breaks into high-pitched tones—not the steady tone of a burly thirty-year-old or a faun.

Shaking off her thoughts, she remembered that he had some belongings to retrieve.

"By the way, the doctors have removed all that from your body," she indicated, pointing to a basket at the Hero's right side.

He followed the direction of her finger and saw all the gadgets hidden within his body behind his wounds: his holophone, lock-picking tools, a hollow-point pistol and another laser gun—though both had been emptied—an electromagnetic grenade (which had been neutralized), various currencies from different cities, assorted identity cards, blessed water, and a host of trinkets both useless and somewhat useful. (He'd also had his silver bullets confiscated in situations the Fairy had never even experienced.) He looked into her eyes as she met his gaze before understanding what she was getting at:

"Don't worry. I know how dangerous the outside world is. I see no harm in you having all this," she reassured him, "but the question that plagues my mind is: how did you manage to store all that inside your chest and intestines? You don't exactly look like someone with surgical skills."

He simply shrugged.

At last, a response! She never thought she'd receive one—even a simple "I don't know" was better than those disdainful looks (which had subsided once he learned that she had no name).

Even though she was delighted to finally get an answer, she wasn't satisfied with his shrug alone—but she decided to let it go for now.

"You'll answer me later. For now, I'll continue your treatment."

She picked up a washcloth and gently rubbed his forehead, spreading that mysterious magical water over his face—the same warmth and well-being he had felt during his sleep. It felt so wonderful!

Seeing the Hero smile, the Fairy asked:

"Is this the first time someone's used fairy powder on you?"

He nodded.

A second answer! the Fairy rejoiced. "Finally, you're not as reticent about talking as I thought!"

"It shows—seeing how tense you were when we put it on you!" she laughed. "This bath is loaded—not only with a potion to counter the curse on your body, but also with cleansing magic. Normally, you should feel much better after this, especially since you haven't been able to wash since you arrived in Sylvania. I must say, you didn't exactly smell like roses…"

What a shame! Not only was she washing him, but she also had to endure his rank odor—especially since the authorities in that city didn't allow their detainees a proper shower. Imagine the exhausting work she must have done to remove all the grime and blood that had caked onto his body, not to mention the scars that kept reappearing each time! Perhaps he should be more understanding of her after all the effort she had put in—amazing that none of her scars got infected—and show her more sympathy, especially since he was beginning to feel something for her.

So, despite his embarrassment, he would bear it.

But she should not harbor any foolish hopes: there was no chance she could undo that curse. Only he—by defeating the knight and exacting his vengeance—could free himself from it.

Yet, the pure bliss he derived from this bath made him think that it might be worth all these ills if he could remain in it forever with this pointed-eared girl. He would accept it… He was even beginning to drift back to sleep.

Noticing him relax, the Fairy recalled that just a few hours ago he had nearly been executed by the queen—and his life had been hanging by a thread.

"Mistaking the names of things only adds to their misfortune…" she thought. Could he really be the Nemésis? If she were mistaken, he would die for nothing…

A few hours earlier, in the midst of the arena.

I want to come back to that.

I didn't lie… I just wasn't aware that the Hero was the Nemésis! But after all, he is the Hero of this story. So I haven't really been lying.

[You're kind of acting like David Goodenough.]

Stop with your perpetual references…

But for now, let's continue.

"—Him? The Nemesis?" exclaimed the Fairy. "I mean, I accept that he's done things far beyond the capabilities of ordinary humans, but to equate him with the Harbinger of Evil—that's just…"

"—I admit, my Lady, that's a bit of an overstatement," interjected Soldier Birnet. "There are still plenty of explainable differences between an average human and the Nemesis. You yourself have faced modified humans before."

"—Modified humans who can teleport without magic, incantations, or sigils? Have you seen many? Do you know how long it takes to teleport?"

"—No…"

"—Thirty minutes!" replied the Queen. "And I can tell you that thirty minutes is a long time during a siege—imagine being trapped on a mountain completely aflame from the Nordules and their dragon tamers," she recounted loudly. "And that was merely to teleport ten kilometers further and dash through what has become the inferno that is the forest of Tarmistriel. So when I say that what he did borders on the impossible, I'm not exaggerating."

Audisélia's gaze was wild—a mix of anger and deep worry. No one had ever seen her like that, except Guard Sawyer, who knew her concern was not unfounded given what they had witnessed that day and long ago.

He had witnessed such exploits many years ago, when that woman arrived—twenty-five years back, at a time when Queen Synomia was dying from an unknown malady and on the brink of death. At that time, a tournament was organized to crown a new queen. It was during that period that she encountered that carnival phenomenon of a human—the one who would become Queen Audisélia's best friend.

Sawyer then took the Queen's hand in both of his and reassured her.

"—It isn't your duty to defeat him, Sélia," declared Guard Sawyer. "If he truly is the Nemesis, he will undoubtedly return to settle his score—and you will see her again."

"—As if I needed to see her again! Let her live her own life… even if…"

(Sélia?) the Fairy thought to herself.

She observed her Queen and her bodyguard—so close that perhaps they were childhood friends. She also wondered who this person was that Guard Sawyer mentioned—a person who could both irritate and soothe the heart of the formidable warrior that was Queen Audisélia.

Her Majesty wiped away her tears and straightened her regal bearing.

"—But you're probably right," she sniffled with a smile, "the Legendary Heroine will surely reappear."

"—Huh?" interrupted the Fairy. "You… you… you know the Legendary Hero?"

"—Oh yes, she's my friend!" beamed Queen Audisélia. "She's amazing…"

Sawyer gave her a light slap on the shoulder to remind her to behave like a proper queen. She coughed and regained herself.

"—Indeed, the Heroine is an acquaintance of mine—and yes, she's a remarkable person. However, let's return to the main issue. After hearing your arguments, I think I'll give her the benefit of the doubt—but take away her sword so we can verify its authenticity, one way or another. And you!" the Queen addressed the Princess.

"—Yes?" gasped the Fairy.

"—It's you who will take care of him!" she ordered. "First, you are to bathe and heal him using the Miraculous Bath; then the mages will try to remove the curse that was cast on him by preparing a spell or potion to be used with the Bath…"

"—Wait!" interrupted the wingless Fairy. "Are you saying that I'm supposed to bathe a human myself? A man? A male? No! No! No!" she repeated. "I cannot touch any man other than my own!" she insisted. "Sorry, but I refuse."

The Queen, all the guards, and the soldiers looked around at the Fairy and among themselves, and Audisélia asked her:

"—Where is he?"

"—Uh…"

"—That's it—I'm going to beat him up," declared the Queen.

"—Sélia!"

"—No! Not this time, Sawyer! We are entrusting the life of one of my successors to him and allowing her to approach a dangerous individual. Take care of the pseudo-Nemesis—I will summon him."

The Queen was truly furious with Yeneltig. And the Fairy knew that the Queen's anger was never measured; none of her actions were restrained. Fortunately, the Kingdom was at peace, because even the lightning column she unleashed on the human was an utterly disproportionate attack.

It's true that Triface's justice could be described as not only swift but also abominably disproportionate to the offenses—how many people from the slums, who merely stole a scrap of bread, have ended up banished to the depths of the Underworld?

So one could expect both the best and the worst from the Queen.

The Fairy wanted to calm her anger, but the Queen immediately silenced her.

"—Don't think that your pretty words will save him again," she warned. "I know you chose him, or that he was your only option—aside from those filthy perverts who let themselves be ruled by their hormones and demand dubious rewards—but he is still a representative of the Kingdom's forces, one of the symbols of Sylvania's power! Do you seriously believe that a man who can't even protect the one he's charged with will be able to secure the future Queen of Sylvania, huh?" the Queen demanded.

The wingless sylph was backed against the wall; she could no longer defend her champion. The Queen was right—entrusting the safety of her life and the Kingdom to a man who trembles before those stronger than him, who bows his head without even bothering to confront them, was simply unacceptable.

The Queen then approached her little protégée and embraced her.

"—I do not blame you, my dear," the Queen consoled. "If you have chosen him with all your heart, then you must accept the consequences—for you cannot have a replacement, as no one will fight for you without receiving something very special in return. So I will simply remind him and motivate him. Don't worry. Besides, you have a new assignment, which is also your punishment for your many oppositions against me. Take care of this boy, learn all about him, and prove to us that he is not a danger to the Kingdom."

"—But I don't have a wing to perform the Miraculous Bath."

"—Don't worry, you'll use my stardust to heal him; after all, I used it successfully on that lizard I still must tend to," she said as she released her hold on the wingless Fairy.

She cracked her knuckles and neck, then strode toward the lizard net. Placing her foot on the chained, toothless snout of the lizard-man assassin, she declared:

"—Have you understood your mission, kid? Prove to us that the trust you placed in him—because he saved you twice—is not in vain."

The Fairy nodded.

"That's right. It is your mission."

But for now, she saw nothing truly sinister in him despite the strangeness of his body. She had once seen him as a monster, but in the end, he was just a child like herself—a teenager who wasn't as odd as one might think; he was merely mute—or forced to be so because of that curse.

It was, rather, his body that was peculiar.

Normally, a short dip in the Miraculous Bath healed all wounds, erased every scar, and cured all ailments and diseases—nothing could remain unhealed in that miraculous water infused with fairy dust and that potion meant to counter the curse covering the boy's body.

Yet, even though he was immersed in it, his wounds stubbornly refused to disappear. No matter how hard she rubbed him to smooth them away, they reappeared relentlessly. She could try to peel them off, cleanse his wounds, pour the magical water over him—nothing worked. And with that dark "stain" covering his head and a large part of his torso and arms, she couldn't properly examine him. She even wondered what that stain was.

A disease? A spell? A curse?

After all her efforts, she felt satisfied with what she had managed, despite her limited healing knowledge—she couldn't do any better without knowing how to remove that thing which obscured so much of her guardian angel's body. So she ended the bathing session. The Hero rushed to get out of the bathtub and fell face-first to the ground, his legs unable to support his weight. The Fairy recoiled at the sight of his "naked" body.

"—Wait until I get out of the room, for goodness' sake!" shouted the Fairy as she covered her eyes.

If he could blush, he surely would have—but he was in too much pain to do so. I can assure you he would have turned as red as a tomato; he wouldn't even need a costume to pass as a Red Lantern. He tried to stand, but his strength had deserted him; the overuse of Ymir had stripped him of most of his motor functions.

The Fairy turned her gaze away from her patient, tossed him a towel, and set down a pair of crutches that she had requested from the doctors caring for the Hero, then left the bathroom.

"—I'll be waiting for you on the other side," she stammered.

Clearly, neither of them remembered that the human was wearing a swimsuit.

After a few short minutes, the Hero recovered from the embarrassment of his hasty exit. He managed to stand by leaning on the edge of the bathtub, gingerly moved his feet toward the crutches and towel that had been provided, and finally shuffled around the room.

He went and sat on a wooden chair, then began to dry his entire body. As he looked around, he discovered that the whole room was filled with lush greenery—covering the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling—and through the window he could see the entire city.

Observing the architecture of the room and the city beyond, he understood what Astéron had told him about the Fairies' mastery over nature. He imagined that the Underworld and the Colosseum of Champions were anomalies amid all this fairy architecture—a clever blend of nature and man-made structures.

He also noticed that the fairy kingdom was situated on a hill; he couldn't discern the borders of nations, which he had always assumed were minuscule, when in fact they must be as vast as the largest city-states of Europea. It was also the only place where one could behold such a dazzling blue sky. In other countries—whether city-states, towns, or villages—one never knew when it was day or night; only our watches or alarms dictated the proper time to wake up, a legacy of the Era of Darkness. But strangely, in Novillios, the day/night cycle was respected. Perhaps we will finally see them? Those luminous objects that his mother claimed to have seen and promised to show him—I remembered she called them "UFOs."

He then took the clean clothes that that strange, starry-eyed girl had left on the sink for him.

He truly wondered whether the kindness she showed was genuine...

He was undoubtedly paranoid, yet at the same time, how could anyone blame him for that?

Then he began to wonder if she might not be a "Honey Trap" sent by that great lady—the queen of that place he had seen before he fainted. No, she had no interest in doing so; he had no secrets of the mighty of this fallen world to reveal, nor was he some spy or assassin they had identified without his knowing—he was simply a vagabond in search of a scoundrel.

After finishing donning his new clothes, he discovered, quite perplexed, that no shoes had been provided for him. Already, he did not care for the Feykin's style of dress, and if he were forced to walk barefoot, that simply would not do.

He limped toward the door on his crutches, then threw his weight against it and collapsed to the floor. The door brushed the nose of the "caregiver" standing before him; she opened her eyes wide at the brutality and shook her head in dismay at the human's clumsiness.

The Fairy helped him to his feet, gazing tenderly at him like a mother with her son.

"A valiant fighter who can't manage to put one foot in front of the other," she teased.

She then settled him onto the sofa provided in his lodging. The Hero noticed that they had also set up a television, a gaming console, and a holodisc player—he hoped they hadn't forgotten the holodiscs, since Astéron had already pulled that trick on him. Sitting beside him, she rested her elbow on the armrest and placed her head in her hand.

"Did you miss me so much that you rushed clumsily out of the bathroom?" she laughed.

He regarded her cautiously.

"I'm just joking. But tell me, why such haste when you have trouble walking?"

Struggling to lift his foot—since he wasn't exactly what one would call "adept"—he noticed, incidentally, that he could barely feel his leg (he'd really taken a beating with the cursed sword) and tried to indicate that he wanted shoes or boots. Not understanding his gesture, the Fairy mimicked him, effortlessly lifting her leg and placing it atop her other leg with much more agility than her young savior. The boy was impressed by her dexterity.

"What do you want with your foot?" the Fairy asked. "If you're asking for a foot massage, then no—you mustn't overdo it," she protested.

The Hero was about to be more precise—even trying to communicate through sign language—when he resigned himself upon noticing the bare feet of the wingless fairy. She, too, had no shoes.

He placed his foot back on the floor and signaled for her to drop the subject; in the end, he had nothing to ask.

"You're a really strange boy," the Fairy chuckled.

He simply shrugged in reply.

"You could have said that you weren't feeling well without boots..."

Had she understood? Why had she pretended otherwise? Moreover, she seemed quite serious in her refusal to give him a foot massage—he was certain that was exactly how she had interpreted his gesture.

"Ahaha, we do feel silly, don't we?" she mocked. "I think I'll have some fun teasing you."

At that moment, the Hero thought it was really foolish of her to tease him like that—even if it made him laugh inwardly.

"For now, you don't need boots since we are inside the castle," she explained regarding the missing shoes, "and I don't think they'll let you leave your quarters until they've sorted out your situation. You're certainly not the sort of person one would call a choirboy."

Curiously, she was mistaken on that last point. Indeed, after his exploits the previous day, it was clear they wouldn't let him roam freely in the Kingdom—even under supervision.

"As a result, the only thing I can show you is… your lodging!" the Fairy declared cheerfully.

It was true: she had just informed him that this place was his new home, meaning he would not return to that gloomy, spider-infested place, he thought to himself.

A small smile of relief tugged at his lips—a smile he tried to suppress quickly before she noticed.

"Glad it pleases you—no need to hide it," she smiled, "it's a gift from the queen…and from me as well! Even though I don't like to boast… But after all, you've saved my life twice and defeated that relentless Mad Judge…and everything…"

For the first time since they began talking, her words touched him; he finally perceived that her thanks were truly sincere, which made his tears when she wept in the bathroom all the more poignant. His heart pounded fiercely, though he did not know why.

Why did it affect him so much?

Belachat had also thanked him when he had frightened away his tormentors, yet he had betrayed her as soon as he regained confidence...

And yet...

And yet, he detected no malice in the words she spoke—they were genuinely sincere—so he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and admit that she truly was sincere.

Her kindness seemed real… just like that of his mother.

Embarrassed at having misjudged himself, he scratched his cheek and gazed at the ceiling, before ruffling her hair.

"Hey, what are you doing?" the Fairy protested.

Escaping the Hero's grasp, she looked up and saw the radiant smile of her savior. That smile was so joyful, so natural.

She wondered what he would look like without that covering his body.

The wingless fairy rose and took the human's wrist to help him up.

"Come on! Didn't I say I'd show you your new home?"

At the doorway, two guards were listening to the conversation between the two young ones. Someone approached them, unnoticed while savoring a juicy apple.

"So, did you notice nothing unusual?"

They turned around and saw Guard Globox, his belly exposed, with his hairy navel in full view, and no armor.

The most dreadful thing the guards feared more than a new war or catastrophe—as had happened thirty years ago—were the rest days of Guard Globox Yaramn. It was truly horrible to behold: his greenish skin dripping with sweat, his hair scattered all over his body. Seeing him shirtless was practically an affront to the eyes; moreover, he arrogantly reveled in this state, wearing glasses he had "confiscated" from a smuggler who had come to peddle his trinkets.

The two guards felt like vomiting at the sight of the half-naked ogre, but one managed to overcome his revulsion to ask a question:

"Wasn't your break supposed to be in two weeks?"

"Yes, but Sawyer fired me because of Yeneltig's audition before the queen."

"He's really in for a rough time," the two guards shivered in fear. "Is it common for him to fire you?"

"No, it's the first time in five years that he dismisses someone," intervened the second soldier.

"Yes, indeed—during the queen's hundred days of rage—but I don't think it will be that serious," he laughed.

One of the guards relented.

"Would you like to get dressed again, please?" pleaded the first guard.

"No! I'm taking advantage—I still have the right for another four months before it expires."

"Another four months!?" the two guards burst into tears.

The "judgment" of Yeneltig had begun; the atmosphere was heavy, even electric. The young coward was facing the greatest threat in the kingdom—the true living weapon of the Feykin Kingdom: the angry Queen Audisélia.