Nana rushed out of the door with Stefan and Lance, and they surrounded Ewan, looking around for the enemy as their heaves rang in the fraught silence.

  “Are you hurt?” Nana asked, defending Ewan’s back, her shoulders trembling.

  “Sir?” Lance looked at him with a doubtful stare.

  “Where is he?” Stefan asked, his lantern blazing up and irradiating the deck.

  “He taught her to be loyal, but he didn’t punish her,” Ewan answered.

  “Incorrect,” the man’s voice rolled again, and the three around him shivered. Ewan groaned and grunted as the rust took to his elbows and crawled for his shoulders, corroding his bones, flesh, skin, and blood.

  “Ewan!” Nana yelled and attempted her healing spell on him, and she cast and cast. However, her new path and the Anima trait she now owned failed her, and her tears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed.

  “Sir, where’s the enemy?” Lance gulped and tightened his grip on the scythe and the shield, protecting Ewan.

  “The toy of the parrot was perfect in the girl’s eyes. The voice was easy on her ears, it was sweet and pleasant. And most of all, she could change it as she wished, it was the best gift for her. But her fickle nature remained, and Hawk too ate dust in a matter of months. She occasionally took him out to play with him, but always with bored and distant eyes. He didn’t excite her anymore, for at sixteen, her infatuation had fallen on the neighbor’s boy two-years older than her, Zephyr. But to her dismay, the boy only had eyes for someone else. She shrieked, she threw a tantrum, she destroyed Hawk and Ears, just to have her father fulfill her wish to be with him. But the boy still cared naught for her. She did her best to please him, she tried her hardest to destroy his time with the other girl, but she failed again and again. So, did her father approach the boy’s father to arrange their marriage? Or did he kill the boy in the silence of the night, turned him into a toy, and gifted him to his daughter?”

  “He killed the boy, turned him into a toy, and gifted him to his daughter,” Ewan said, and the three hushed around him. They kept him in the center and stopped asking about the enemy, and only Nana’s cries echoed beside his voice.

  “Incorrect,” the man said, his thundering voice rippling the air.

  Ewan growled, his back bent, and the rust reached his neck and spread to his ribs. Every breath hurt him; every whistling gasp broke with a hiccup. His chest quivered as the torment engulfed him.

  The whims of a man tortured him, the meaningless questionnaire played with his life. But he had no say in any of it, he had to accept it even if he didn’t want to, because he was the weaker side. What he had done to others, others could do to him, he’d long learned and accepted this lesson. Yesterday, he was the predator; today, he became the prey; and who knew if there would be a tomorrow for him. If he died, then so be it, he was only that much of a man. But what would happen to Nana after he was gone, who would protect his three brothers, and his death would kill his Astylinds too…

  “The marriage was arranged, and though Zephyr resisted, it was to no avail. And soon with the preparations done, the day of the wedding arrived. Violet was ecstatic, her mother cried with joy, and while all the rushed and hectic work for the wedding exhausted her father, he had a constant grin plastered on his face. He met the guests, hugged his relatives, and shed a few tears in an empty room. His daughter was the apple of his eye, but today, she would marry another man, complete his life, and give her all to him. She wouldn’t belong to him anymore,” the man said. “Nevertheless, the pain of separation didn’t dampen his elation for her daughter’s next step in life. She’d found a good man, he would keep her happy, he had to. But as the time of the ceremony arrived, as the sacred fire witnessed their marriage, the father died a silent death in his chair. So, did the daughter cancel the wedding, mourned her father, and sent him away to Morinfair? Or did she marry the man she loved, turned her father into a toy, and brought him with her to her new home?”

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  “She turned her father into a toy and brought him with her,” Ewan said, wagering on the abnormal again. The rust rested before his heart—one more wrong answer, and he would lose his life. Nana gripped his shirt from behind, her face paled and bloodless, as tears drenched her collar, and she sank her teeth into her lips, drawing blood. He didn’t want to see her saddened, he didn’t want to break his promise to her, but alas…

  “Correct,” the man said, and Nana trembled behind him, her knees almost buckling.

  The rust in Ewan receded a little, he survived another round. And as Kidd bolted back onto the deck with panicked Frost and crying Orange in tow, as an enfeebled Toast howled from the tattoo, as the horrified Iris scampered to heal him without success, and as Ghost wailed in the rune, Ewan prepared for the next question.

  “She put the toy of her father in her room and proceeded with her life. Zephyr remained cold to her even after their marriage, he ignored her most of the time. But with months gone by, as she strived for his love, he warmed up to her presence and accepted her as his wife. It had been a year since their wedding, and they finally consummated their marriage on their anniversary. Her life from then on was full of smiles and laughter. The man she loved, loved her back. He gave her everything he could, and she became the loving home he could come back to. And along with passed years, she forgot about the toy of her father. So, was her father alive or dead?”

  “He was alive,” Ewan answered.

  “Correct,” the man said.

  “He watched his daughter’s happy life unfold from a dusty corner of the room; he watched as she devoted her all to her man; he watched as the man loved her more than his life; he watched as she gradually got bored of the marriage; he watched as her interest in her husband waned; he watched as her fascination took her to the greener grass on the other side; he watched as she stabbed her husband in his face and ran away with all his wealth. And as he watched it all, did the father feel happy for his daughter? Or was he sad that he raised such a daughter?”

  “He felt nothing,” Ewan said. It was the conclusion he’d reached once he put himself in the father’s shoes, and he stuck to his instincts.

  “…Correct.” The man’s voice reverberated again after a pause. “Last question. What was the father’s name?” he asked.

  “Graventos.”

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