“Why did you take this?” asked Nia, lifting the small wooden box we stole from Richard’s office.

  Nia, Greenspring, Beth, and I were sitting in Greenspring’s room. Valna was still at Trafford’s party. Having escaped from Richard’s office, I was eager to show the others what we found. Though we had no idea what was inside the box, nor the contents of the ancient scroll.

  Greenspring sat on his bed cross legged. The scroll was laid out in front of him, with another blank scroll placed nearby. Every few seconds, Greenspring would scribble something onto the blank scroll and then go back to examining Richard’s scroll. He was deep in concentration.

  “What else were we supposed to do?” I asked. “We couldn’t just leave empty handed.”

  “You don’t think he’s going to notice that these are gone?” asked Nia.

  Greenspring looked up from the scrolls, his eyes red from lack of blinking. “There is no guarantee that these items even belong to Richard.”

  “They were in his office,” said Beth.

  “Yes,” said Greenspring. I winced as he rubbed his eyes with his ink-stained hands. “But this scroll is much older than Richard. At least, that is how it appears at first examination.”

  “How old do you think it is?” asked Nia, tossing me the box. It slipped out of my hands as I tried to catch it and fell onto the floor. Everyone jumped, but since it appeared unharmed, they quickly moved on.

  “I am not sure. Older than Adelbern, I think.”

  “And the box?” I held it up so he could see.

  He shrugged. “All I can say is that it is locked with magic. As for how that was done, or what spell did it, I do not know. Even the wood does not speak to me, for it is long dead.”

  I placed the box onto the floor. All of this was so frustrating. All that effort spent sneaking into Richard’s office and all we had to show for it was a locked box and an unreadable scroll. Well, unreadable to anyone here besides Greenspring. At least he was able to decipher its contents. If only he were able to open the box as well.

  “Thank you for trying, Greenspring,” said Beth, smiling warmly.

  Greenspring returned her smile. “Fear not, friends, all is not lost. These items may still lead to Trafford’s downfall. For now, you should all rest. I will be done by morning.”

  “Are you sure? At your age, working through the night might kill you,” said Nia.

  Greenspring chuckled. “I am not as old as I appear. Besides, translating this scroll is child’s play for a druid such as myself. One can not consider it work.”

  I slapped my knees and stood up. “Alright, goodnight everyone.”

  Everyone looked surprised as I walked out of the room. Was I becoming so predictable that they expected me to argue with Greenspring? The truth was that I was exhausted. Working on my Valna disguise took a lot out of me, and sneaking into the cathedral had only pushed my body further. By the time Beth and I returned to Valna’s manor, I could barely hold my eyes open. Only the excitement of discovering the secrets of what we found had kept me awake.

  Stumbling into my room, I collapsed onto my bed face first. I didn’t notice the open window, or the figure standing against the opposite wall. Nor did I notice the way their body seemed to sway in place. Kicking off my shoes, I crawled under the covers. When I felt someone sit down on the bed, I assumed it was Beth.

  “Did you follow me here?” I mumbled, turning to look at them.

  The figure rubbed their nose, sniffling loudly. A few tears ran down their chin and fell onto the bed sheets. My eyes struggled to focus on the figure, except I did manage to make out their white hair, illuminated by moonlight. Their face was red and puffy, as if they’d spent the past hour crying.

  “Norman. I’m… sorry…”

  My brain tried to send my body warning signals, but my body was already in the process of shutting down for the night. “Beth?”

  “I didn’t… he made me… I never wanted to…” The more the figure tried to speak, the more they cried.

  I sat up, rubbing my face to try and force myself awake. Whoever this figure was, they seemed so familiar. Blinking rapidly, I tried to make out more of them. It was difficult with how dark the room was, but I was able to get a clear look at their face. She, I now knew it was a she.

  “Zadona,” I whispered, fearing that if I spoke louder she would disappear.

  She collapsed onto me. Tears streamed from her face as years of pent-up emotions came out all at once. All I could do was hold her. I didn’t speak because there was nothing I could say. Zadona buried her face in my shoulder, her cries muffled by my clothes. Her body felt small in my arms. Like I had done for Beth many times, I stroked her back and let her get everything out.

  Why was she in my room? Why was she crying? Who hurt her?

  I looked up as I heard the door close. Beth stood in front of it, her hands covering her mouth as she stared at Zadona. Fear was evident on her face. She looked at me, then back at Zadona. Once she saw the tears streaming down Zadona’s face, that fear was washed away. Zadona looked at Beth, sputtering out apologies while wiping her face.

  “Don’t apologize,” said Beth, hurrying toward the bed. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

  She grabbed Zadona’s head and held her close. Stroking her hair, she shushed the Kanta elf. I smiled, relieved that Beth had come. Unlike me, she was a master of calming such emotions. Arienne frequently came to her mother when she cried, much like Zadona had come to Beth when they were kids.

  The more Zadona cried, the more I could smell the alcohol on her breath. My heart pounded against my chest, my throat felt like it was bone dry. When Zadona left the first time, I became addicted to drinking my worries away. That was a dark time in my life, only through the help of my family had I been able to crawl back toward the light. How ironic that the moment of Zadona’s return was permeated by the vile ichor.

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  “I’ll get some water,” I said, standing up from the bed.

  Beth nodded, but Zadona shook her head and grabbed my shirt. “Don’t leave me,” she begged.

  I held her hand. “I’ll be back. I promise.” Gently I pulled my shirt out of her grasp.

  My brain was now fully awake, panic surging through me as memories of my addiction filled my mind. It both feared and desired to have one taste. One drop of beer to quench my dry mouth. A moment of weakness. Even performing in taverns with alcohol all around hadn’t brought back that desire.

  Maybe it was because the reason for my addiction was so close to me.

  I rushed to the kitchen. Shaking my head, I tried to clear my mind of such ridiculous thoughts. Zadona wasn’t the reason for my addictions, I was. It was me who spent so many years drowning my sorrows with a bottle. Wasted years, years I could have spent being a better father.

  After stumbling around in the dark for a bit, I managed to find a pitcher of water and a few loaves of bread. That would have to be enough. Thankfully, I didn’t pass anyone on the way there or back. Having to explain that Zadona was drunk and crying on my bed would have been awkward to say the least.

  When I returned, it seemed that Zadona had calmed down a bit. She sat up in the bed, still leaning into Beth, the two of them quietly laughing. I set the food and water onto a nearby table. As gently as she could, Beth helped Zadona stand up. She stumbled as she walked over to the table, but was otherwise fine. Falling into the chair I pulled out for her, she began shoving bread into her mouth.

  “Slower. Here, drink some water,” said Beth, pushing the pitcher toward her.

  Unlike me, Beth was well experienced in taking care of a drunk friend. Before we were married there were many nights where I found myself outside her house, somehow waking up in my bed the next morning. I knew it was her, but I played the fool. Acknowledging that I had a problem was worse than pretending I was blackout drunk.

  Even so, she stayed with me. When she was pregnant with Arienne, I decided I would get better. Not for Arienne, but for Beth. For all the nights she made sure I got home safe. For all the times she defended me against the gossip of Xalir. Yes, I changed for Beth. I would move the world for her.

  I sat quietly next to Zadona, letting Beth take control. No one in my family had troubles with alcohol like I had, so this was my first time really seeing its effects up close. Though I didn’t know the real reason Zadona had gotten so drunk, I felt like I understood the feeling behind it. She was hurting.

  Then all the sympathy I had for Zadona disappeared as I watched her vomit on my wife. “Sorry,” muttered Zadona.

  For the rest of the night, Beth and I took turns caring for Zadona. There were a few messes during the night, and I was still exhausted, but I was glad to have my friend back. Even at her worst, she was still my friend. I only hoped Zadona would return the favor someday.

  Preferably to Valna, whose nice bed sheets were now an uncleanable mess. We decided to throw those away.

  I only slept an hour that night. When I woke up, Zadona was curled into a ball on the floor. She was covered in the few blankets we were able to keep clean. Beth was sitting next to her, while I had slept against the door. My muscles ached, but I made it through the night. Zadona stirred, her eyes fluttering awake as the sun shone through the open window.

  “Where…?” she asked, peering around the room through half-open eyelids.

  Groaning, I stretched my arms. “Morning.”

  “Norman? How…?” Zadona rubbed her eyes, then stared at me silently. Her face changed from happy to embarrassed to sad in the span of a few seconds. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  As she tried to stand up, Beth grabbed her arm. “No. Not again. You’re going to explain everything.”

  “What’s there to explain?” asked Zadona, looking away from us.

  “You don’t get to apologize when you’re drunk, then leave when you’re sober,” said Beth, glaring at her old friend.

  Zadona rubbed her temples. “My head hurts.”

  “How much did you drink last night?” I asked.

  She sat back down and sighed. “More than I should have. Was it bad?”

  I pointed toward the mess of bed sheets still waiting to be thrown away. “You tell me.”

  Hanging her head, she brought her knees up to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve said that a lot recently,” said Beth. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, tell us where you went? Did you even join the army?”

  “I did,” said Zadona. “Or well, I tried. You’d think that during a war they’d be begging for people to join them, but no. They told me I wasn’t strong enough. It didn’t matter how good I could use a bow, or how agile I was, they wanted foot soldiers. Since I wasn’t strong enough for them, they told me to go home.”

  “Why didn’t you?” asked Beth.

  “I was going to. Really, I was going to come home. Even before I was rejected, my plan was always to come home. But on the way back, I met Piopus.”

  My heart sank. “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  Zadona looked up at me. “No, I’m sorry, Norman. He told me not to tell you. I was in a bad place. I asked him for advice, so he told me to come here to Adelbern. ‘I have a friend there that can help you,’ he said. ‘Ask for Trafford.’ So I did.

  “It started out simple. All he had me do was a few delivery jobs for the Lawmaker’s Assembly. Then he had me passing messages between him and the harska. After a year, he gave me my first target. It wasn’t anyone special, not a major political or religious figure, just a man who insulted Trafford. That was enough for him.”

  I felt my neck tighten. “Do you regret it?”

  She nodded, then slowly shook her head. “I did at first. After the fifth time, I was able to push those feelings down. It was a job, a way to make up for my failure in the army. Part of me still wanted to return to Xalir. I almost did, but Trafford said he would tell everyone I killed those people. He has proof, enough to put me away for a long time. I couldn’t return as a wanted criminal, so I kept going.”

  “We would have helped you,” said Beth.

  Zadona chuckled sadly. “I know that now.”

  “We will help you,” I said.

  Zadona searched my eyes, looking for any sign of doubt. It was there, of course. How could I not have my doubts? Trafford was connected to not only a host of dangerous people, but several world leaders. I was just a simple farmer. What could I do against a king?

  Beth grabbed my hand. Warmth spread through my body, like my blood was transformed into liquid courage. If Beth believed in me, then I could do a lot. After all, I was Norman Benson. I had defeated the Rebel King, I had the greatest warrior and the greatest druid on my side. I was the greatest bard.

  What could I do against a king? A lot. After all, Kingmaker isn’t just the name of my mandolin. It is me.

  Piopus… I would never forgive him for hurting my friend. Maybe he didn’t know, maybe Trafford had tricked him somehow, but it didn’t matter. In my mind, he became nothing more than a stepping stone on my path to greatness. Gone were the days of defending his name. Gone were the days of idolizing him.

  “We tried to search the room of Advocate Richard for any dirt on Trafford. You worked for him for years, you must know something. Does he have any enemies?” I asked.

  Zadona stared at her feet as she thought for a few seconds. “Most people that cross Trafford are either killed or become indebted to him. There are many that want him gone, but they lack the power to do so.” She shook her head. “You haven’t seen him fight, but I have. Even I couldn’t beat him in a fair fight.”

  Beth and I frowned. “So there’s no one?” asked Beth.

  “Well, there are two that might help,” said Zadona. “You’ve already met one of them and seen the other.”

  “Great! Who?”

  “Thrig Paleshield and Gunner.”