Drawn Lines

I found myself sitting at a circular wooden table in a formal sitting room, eyeing the others seated with me. They made no secret of silently taking my measure. The first prince’s proxy, Klein, sat to my right, and the village’s elderly chief sat to my left. We had exchanged pleasantries when we’d first entered the room, but now, we sat in silence. Complete, awkward, drawn-out silence. I bided my time to see which of them would speak first; I knew it wouldn’t be me. I would do my best to represent my team in this negotiation, but I wasn’t confident enough to start the ball rolling.

“I’ll cut straight to the point,” Klein started, leaning forward. Confidence and arrogance oozed off every word, but I couldn’t help feeling like I’d just won a game of chicken when he’d been first to speak. “Normally, for saving an entire village from a threat of this magnitude, my party would require 75 percent of your quarterly harvests, or wealth equivalent to that.”

His opening proposal stunned the chief. The older man’s mouth hung slightly agape. I felt equally gobsmacked, but I was careful not to show my reaction as Klein continued.

“However, since you had two heroes aid you, we both need equal compensation.” He glanced at me smugly, as if he were doing my group a favor. I stared back in rapt horror. “Rather than demanding 150 percent, which obviously isn’t possible, I’m sure we can settle for just a mere 100 percent, split fifty-fifty between me and my compatriot here.” He gestured at me, and I resisted the urge to recoil.

It was a disgusting feeling to be grouped into this blatant shakedown, especially knowing that the village was already starving and would need all its resources in hopes of recovering. Besides, since when did proxies take payment? I had thought the whole point was to do good for the people of this land, with the metaphorical points being the reward. We certainly hadn’t taken any payment from anyone we’d already helped. But then, the more I learned about this proxy competition, the more corrupt it sounded. The rot started at the top with the royals, with many proxies following suit.

I felt my fingers curling into the table, but I hesitated. I didn’t have all the information yet. Plus, being a proxy was a uniquely awful thing. None of us had asked to be here; all of us had been plucked from our worlds to serve and likely die in this contest. Most of us would never see our homes and families again. If a few proxies decided to say “screw it” and make the most of the time they had, especially with the encouragement of their twisted royal patrons, it would not surprise me.

While the situation might explain such vile behavior, it certainly did not excuse it.

Klein was deplorable. He was also waiting for a response from the chief.

“I’m afraid we have very little to offer you, sirs…,” The older man replied in a soft voice, his gaze downcast. I felt a twinge of pity for him. “Because of the jelloons, we haven’t been able to harvest much, and any perishables we had have been consumed already. Even water is in short supply.”

“Well, that won’t do.” Klein tapped his finger on the table impatiently. He glanced around like he was searching for something valuable to take as his payment. Then he brightened, as if something brilliant had occurred to him. “You got any booze, then?”

“Just enough to get us through the coming months,” the chief answered. “It’s all we’ve had to survive on.”

“All of it,” Klein stated, bringing his fist down on the table as if the deal was already determined. “For nobly saving your village, we will procure all of your alcohol as compensation.”

I was shocked all over again, and this time, I barely kept my surprise from my face. What was the point of saving a village if they were just going to take all of their vital supplies and let the people die? What could be gained from that? I looked at the chief. His eyes widened as he opened his mouth to protest, but Klein was no longer looking at him. In fact, the chief didn’t appear to exist any more in the proxy’s eyes. Instead, he looked at me, a conspiratorial smirk on his lips.

“Let’s party.” He winked as he stood from his seat, kicking the chair behind him and stepping away from the table. “I’ll go and grab my people. This’ll be a fun night.”

His laughs echoed through the vacant house as he disappeared from sight. I heard a door slam in the distance, and with that, the chief and I were alone. He didn’t look at me, but I could see his hands shaking where they rested on the table.

“I'm sorry, sir…,” I looked down, unable to stomach the sight of his trembling. The “negotiation” had happened so fast, with the outcome so terrible, that I felt blindsided. But the very real damage was done, and now that Klein was gone, I felt the urge to mitigate the harm as much as possible. “My party will refrain from drinking our share. It’s yours, and you should keep it. We’ll just make sure Klein doesn’t try to take it for himself.”

The chief didn’t move or speak, so I continued.

“If you’ll have us, we may be able to stay and help with rejuvenating your village. We can use our skills to jump start your crops now that the jelloons are gone, and we can rebuild with our gadgets and our own hands.”

“At what cost?” The chief muttered. His shoulders slumped, and he looked entirely defeated. I didn’t blame him.

“No charge. We want to help. I only ask you to allow our sick companion to rest her head under the care of your hospitality.” I thought of Andra and grimaced. I still had no way to know what was wrong with her.

The chief looked at me now, studying me for a long time. I met his gaze with what I hoped was earnest reassurance. He cocked his head, clearly still unsure. But he knew us better than he knew Klein and his people. He knew we had already tried to help the village, and he knew we hadn’t asked for anything in return. A flicker of hope sparked in his eyes, and he sat back, exhaling a long breath.

“Thank you,” he replied. His tone was more measured now, as though he had more control over himself. “We gratefully accept your offer of help. And we will ensure your party member receives the best hospitality we can offer in our humble circumstances.”

I nodded, extending a hand. The chief looked at it for a moment, then reached out and grasped my fingers with his. I felt a wave of relief at the handshake; I wasn’t sure what we could do to help this village get back on its feet quickly, but I knew we would do everything in our power, and I was confident my party would support that.

Satisfied that the village wouldn’t be left to starve, I excused myself from the table, made my way outside and returned to where Andra and the rest of my party waited for me.

Andra was asleep when I returned. The first party had arrived a couple of hours before, but her condition had barely improved, and that made me anxious. I sat for a moment beside her bed and asked Estelar to give me a rundown of her illness. He was optimistic; to his trained eye, she was completely fine, just overwhelmed and in shock. More sleep would help her recover, and there was water waiting for when she woke up.

I would have to accept that for now, although it wasn’t easy to look down at Andra’s pale face lying motionless against the pillow. I gestured to Pira and Estelar to follow me into the next room so we could discuss the meeting I’d had without bothering Andra’s rest.

We found a comfortable sitting area near a fireplace. Briefly, I caught my teammates up on the events of the meeting, including Klein’s insistence on payment and his intention to take all of the village’s alcohol stores as his reward for showing up with a beast that had made quick work of the jelloons. I didn’t try to keep the derision from my voice when Klein was mentioned.

“That’s just how it goes, unfortunately,” Pira sighed. She didn’t seem surprised by the greed of the other proxy, confirming my suspicions about the rampant corruption in this competition. “They’ll take what they can. The harm they do by demanding payment from the villages doesn’t count against them for the final scores. It’s a major design flaw, if you ask me.”

I nodded, simmering with anger for Klein and for the entire contest.

Pira looked concerned. “But wait, will it be okay for us to stay here and help them? Our prince’s plans are quite rigid, and our schedule is tight. We were supposed to be back on the road tomorrow morning.”

“With Andra as she is, I think it’s best to rest for now.” Estelar said. “She can’t travel, and there’s not much the prince can say about that. She needs to recover. In the meantime, I think it’s a marvelous idea to lend aid where we can, since we’re going to be here for a while.”

Estelar was right, and I was quick to agree. “I don’t know about you two, but I definitely would have died in the wilderness five or six times by now without Andra leading us. Our party is small as it is, and we can’t move until we’re at 100 percent. She deserves the chance to heal up, and we aren’t going anywhere until she’s back on her feet. The prince will have to live with it.”

The three of us exchanged glances, each imagining the prince’s wrath. I shook off the mental picture; it didn’t matter here and now. I could see the others doing the same. Comfortable with our decision, we started discussing how we could help the village rebuild, talking and making plans as the sun dipped in the sky and night began to fall.

Suddenly, the window behind me exploded in shards of glass. I ducked, feeling the prick of glass bits raining against my neck. Pira yelled something as we all slid from our chairs and dropped to the floor looking for cover. Were we under attack? A rock rolled across the scarred wooden planks - this was what had broken the window. Who was throwing rocks at us?

Pira produced a small crossbow-like weapon from one of her voluminous pockets and crept up to the edge of the window. She crouched under the windowsill, glancing back at us with a determined expression. Estelar and I exchanged looks and moved silently to the doorway, taking up positions on either side of it. If someone were to burst into the room, we were ready. We nodded at Pira, who took a breath as she got ready to peek outside and figure out who was mounting an assault.

“Heyyyyy, you guys coming to drink or what?” Klein yelled from outside. He sounded drunk already, his words slurred as he shouted. Another rock sailed through the now-broken window and bounced off the floor. His aim was surprisingly true for someone so inebriated.

I felt the tension drain from me, and one look at the others told me that they had relaxed, too. Estelar’s shoulders dropped as he let out an annoyed breath. Pira looked almost disappointed that there was no attack after all, but she remained by the window, crossbow readied as if she might shoot Klein anyway. I respected the sentiment, even shared it. Unfortunately, we both knew the competition’s magic wouldn’t let her do him any real harm, so her shot would be wasted and probably lead to her immediate execution. Still, I could tell from her face it was so very tempting.

Finally, she sighed and tucked the weapon back into her garments. We stood up, brushed the remaining glass flecks from our clothes, and made our way out of the house. I was already steeling myself for the ordeal of having to socialize with this horrible man.

“What took you guys so long?” Klein asked as we stepped into the street. He held another rock in his fist, but when he saw us, he dropped it. “We’ve been having all the fun without you!”

“We had some planning to do for when we leave this village,” I said, trying to keep my tone civil. “Party business, you know how it is.”

Klein blew a raspberry with his lips and waved an arm. “You could just come along with us, I mean we’re gonna win this thing anyway.” He laughed as if he’d made a very funny joke, but none of us joined in. He didn’t seem to notice, opting instead to continue. “Even the newly combined forces of the second princess and seventh prince can’t hold a candle to our strength!” He threw an arm around me like an old friend, and I stopped myself from pushing him away. “I mean we’ve got a freakin’ dragon dude! It’s sick as hell!”

He gave me the perfect opening to gather information.

“Join you?” I asked. “I wasn’t aware merging groups was acceptable.” I glanced at Estelar and Pira, but they both looked like they were trying to stay out of the conversation. I returned my focus to Klein; I needed to know if his suggestion was legitimate or simply a result of his intoxication.

“As long as only one candidate is at the helm, you can do whatever,” Klein said, tapping his nose. “The second princess Elsea basically bought her younger brother’s proxy and whole hero party off of him after he got bored of them… he’s never had the best attention span, or so my prince tells me.”

“So the seventh prince just sort of… bowed out? And sold his party to the second princess?” I asked, incredulous. “Why would he do that?”

“Like I said, he’s a goldfish,” Klein laughed. He started guiding me down the street toward the “party,” and I kept pace with him, Estelar and Pira trailing a few steps behind. “He didn’t care. He doesn’t want to win. He wants to do what he wants, and being in charge would harsh his vibe.”

I shook my head, confused. “Wait, that makes no sense. Don’t the losing proxies get executed at the end? Why would the prince agree to that deal if it meant he was just handing over his proxy to be killed at the end of the competition?”

“Really? Is that a thing?” Klein looked at me with bleary eyes. “I never heard about that, but there was so much to learn when I first showed up here, I’ll be honest. I kinda forgot most of it.” He giggled a bit as he whispered his confession, then stood straighter and tightened his arm around my neck. “If that’s true, if they kill the losers, then sucks to be you. Oh but hey! Maybe they’ll let you live if you join up with us. I could even put in a good word for you.”

I grit my teeth. He smelled like alcohol, sweat and something even more unpleasant. I felt bile rising in my throat, but I swallowed and pressed on for more answers.

“Why do you want us to join you anyway?” I asked. “You seem to have everything already sorted to win.” I knew that flattery would help me get information from him, but if I was honest, I did believe what I was saying. His party was large and strong, and they had a dragon. I couldn’t imagine a scenario that would make them anything less than the strongest party in the competition.

Klein laughed loudly. “I suppose you're right, we really are on the winning track,” he agreed. “But more variables can overcomplicate things.”

Then he smiled, and his half-lidded eyes and white teeth reminded me of a snake. “I’m sure you guys have your uses though. Hey if nothing else, you can be cannon fodder! That’ll be a big help. You catch whatever bullets are aiming for me.”

I froze, unable to resist glaring at the jerk hanging off me. What an absolute tool.

He saw my face and cackled, thumping me on the chest with his free hand. “I’m joking, I swear! Just a joke!” He stopped laughing long enough to force a more serious face as he continued. “But I feel for you guys, you know. I really do. No one chose to be on the losing side, but there you are.”

I could tell he wasn’t joking, not about any of it, but I chose not to respond.

“I’m afraid my prince is quite cunning and doesn’t care much for traitors.” I leveled my eyes at him.

He blinked, thrown a bit by my reaction. “If you say so.” He laughed again, and this time, he didn’t try to hide his mocking tone. “Let me know if you change your mind about partnering up. I may let you work as a servant in my castle when this is all over!”

That was enough for me. I had lost all interest in diplomacy, at least where Klein was concerned. I shrugged off his arm, pushed him lightly and turned on my heel, walking back the way we had come. He stood in the street, staring slack-jawed at me. Estelar and Pira had stopped when they saw me turn around, and now, without question, they did the same.

Klein recovered from his surprise with a laugh and a snort. “Oh come on! Where you going?” he called after us. “I was being funny, stop being so sensitive!”

I ignored him, putting one foot in front of the other. He clearly didn’t like that; he was probably used to people paying attention to him whether they wanted to or not. But he was drunk and sloppy and confused, so all he managed to do was yell after me, first cajoling, then insulting when his laughs and pleas didn’t work.

“Fine, whatever!” I finally heard him shout from some distance behind me. He’d given up at last. “You’re gonna die anyway.”

Maybe so. In which case, life was far too short to waste any of it putting up with him. There was no more yelling, so I figured he’d gone back to the booze. It wouldn’t take much more for him to pass out completely. Meanwhile, my party and I made our way back to where Andra slept.

The villagers had prepared rooms for all of us in the house, and after Estelar had gone to make sure Andra was all right, we all parted ways to go to bed. It had been a long and exhausting day, but rather than head straight to sleep, I decided to stop by Andra’s room one last time to check on her.

I pushed her door open a crack and peered inside. The moonlight slanting through the window showed her in the bed, her eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell in gentle breaths, and she made no sound. She looked like she was sleeping peacefully, almost as if nothing had happened at all.

Despite the quiet scene, a sudden wave of rage washed over me. I felt my nails dig into my palms as my fists clenched, and it took all of my effort to close Andra’s door quietly instead of slamming it shut.

I thought about Klein and his party. The way they treated the villagers, the chief, and my own teammates. The drunken idiots who abused their power and didn’t care what harm they did.

Those vile people deserved to rot in this forsaken world.

This thought spawned many more as my mind began to race. I was summoned to be the assassin of proxies, and Klein was a proxy. He was also drunk and oblivious. I could catch him off-guard with very little trouble. I could remove him from the game entirely, and the world would be better for it. I thought again about how he nearly starved the people here to death, and my mouth set in a grim line.

It would be foolish not to take this opportunity.

I went to my room and dug through my bags, finally fishing out an ordinary hunting knife. That would have to do. My gauntlets sat stacked on a chair nearby, and I pulled my hands into them, activating the electric charge. I spent a moment going through the rest of my supplies, but nothing else looked helpful, and I didn’t want to risk waking anyone by trying to check the rest of the party’s belongings. I could do the job with what I had. Resigned, I made my way down the stairs of the house, heading for the dark of the outdoors. My heartbeat in my ears pounded a complementary cadence to my steps.

I walked up to the door and opened it. Immediately, my blood ran cold.

“Only act when you are told.” The maid stood on the stoop and stared me down, her nose inches away from my face.

I stepped back reflexively at the sudden presence, but then caught myself and stood my ground. Her appearance at the door barely surprised me. Her obvious knowledge of what I had been planning was slightly more surprising, but at this point, it was too late to deny what I had been about to do. I was clearly on a warpath. All that was left was to argue the point.

“Why not? Why not do this? He’s the first prince’s proxy!” I said angrily, annoyed at the note of panic in my voice. “This may be our only chance to dispose of him.”

The maid considered me for a long moment. Her face, as usual, betrayed nothing of her thoughts. Finally, she spoke. “There is a delicate line between assassin and murderer,” she said in her usual monotone. “I hope you don’t cross it.” With that, she stepped out of my way, clearing a path for me to exit.

I blinked, shocked. She was letting me go? The tacit permission caught me off guard, but I recovered myself and nodded. The dark silence of the village beckoned to me from beyond the door, past the maid’s shoulder. In the distance, I heard the faint, unintelligible sounds of people celebrating. Klein and his party, no doubt. I moved to take a step forward.

Nothing happened. I didn’t move. No, I couldn't move. I looked at the maid, but she wasn’t the one stopping me. I was frozen in place. The truth was, I realized, I was scared. The rage, the righteous indignation, the powerlessness that had been fueling me, it all drained away, leaving me standing on the doorjamb, exhausted and blankly staring out into the night.

“Good choice,” the maid said in response to my inaction. She began to close the door, but then she paused. “Trust in Prince Elias’s plans. He is aware your party member is ill, so you have permission to remain in this village for now. You are on standby until you are required again.” She pushed the door firmly shut, leaving me inside the house.

My shoulders slumped, and I leaned against the doorframe dejectedly. I could almost feel the strings by which the prince manipulated me like a puppet. My limbs felt heavy, almost leaden. Solemnly, I returned to my room.

I sat on the bed and removed the gauntlets. For a long moment, I held the knife, studying it. I turned it back and forth in my fingers, examining its sharp edges while my mind raced.

I had almost taken a life on purpose. I had almost killed a man in cold blood of my own volition.

I flung the knife toward my bag as if I couldn’t be rid of it fast enough. I felt tears prick my eyes as I rolled onto the bed and buried my face in the pillow.

I cried until exhaustion won out and sleep finally took me.