“…And then, we knocked each other out, while lightning ran laps around the room! The thunder roared, the sparks crackled, and…-”

  “Ok, ok, I get the picture. That guy sounds like a jerk, huh.”

  Arthur placed his hands in front of himself, stopping Irene's explanation on what went down that morning. It wasn't exactly a detailed account, but rather one embellished by terms that one would usually find in a romance or adventure book.

  Irene slowly lowered her fist, which she had been pumping just moments earlier while telling the end of her ‘epic’ fight against the Tribefolk boy. A slight blush painted her cheeks and she lowered her gaze, realizing her own embarrassing behaviour.

  She had just spent a good half hour narrating the events as if they were passages from a book, greatly exaggerating the details about the fight. She talked of large spears of metal and explosions strong enough to shake the entire prison, but if Arthur had to guess, nothing more than a simple scuffle happened.

  He looked her up and down, his chin resting on the back of his hand. She didn't have any visible injuries, apart from a few burn marks on her hooded clothes. A slight smile escaped his lips, he was happy that she wasn't too hurt at least.

  “So, wait, he picked a fight with you, and now Sol wants to recruit him?”

  Ayn went back on track, ignoring the debatably accurate narration of the girl. She nodded at him.

  “Yeah. He said that, er, he knew that guy already, or somethin' like that. And apparently, it was just a stunt to catch his attention. So it's fine!”

  She pumped her fist once more, before giving Arthur a thumbs up. Almost unconsciously, the corner of his lip curved downwards, accompanied by his nose wrinkling slightly. That felt wrong to hear.

  Just because it was someone that Sol knew, and because he had a reason, it was fine that she got beat up. According to her, she didn't get hit too many times. But, if she was knocked out, she was sure to have been struck at least once, and quite strongly at that.

  He felt disgusted, but did not know who to direct that feeling towards, the Tribefolk boy he had not yet met, or Sol. He clicked his tongue and shook his head, continuing the conversation instead of being caught up by his thoughts.

  “And you're fine with that? Working with some jerk that… Well, that did that?”

  Irene’s eyes shook slightly. “Er… Mr Sol says that he's good enough to work with us, so…”

  She lowered her gaze, avoiding the question. She could feel Arthur's judgemental gaze piercing into her, and bit her lip in shame.

  He sighed. That girl was probably less of a child and more troubled than he had initially thought. He placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly slapping it a few times to cheer her up.

  “If he tries to pull another stunt like that in the task force, I'll be there to back you up. How about that?” He tried smiling at her, and her eyes quickly lit up once again.

  “So you're joining? Did you decide? Are you sure? Are you really, really, reaaally sure you want to join? Come on, you have to join us, right?”

  She grasped his shoulders with her scaled hands, shaking him back and forth a few times, as if trying to pull answers out of him. His complexion quickly grew pale from all that movement, bending over and quickly protecting the bedsheets from his mouth with a hand.

  His body was still incredibly weak, despite the regular intake of the medicine and the somewhat healthy eating schedule. Luckily, he still hadn't eaten anything, so he wouldn't lose any energy by throwing up.

  “Oh, er, sorry…”

  Irene quickly recognized her mistake, helping him sit back upright, before sitting beside him. He looked at her. Her eyes were glimmering with a weird light.

  “What, what's up, why are you looking at me like that?”

  “So… Are you joining us?” She slowly raised her two fists in front of her chest, and leaned in towards him with her head. He winced, moving backwards while being stared down by her puppy eyes.

  He already know what he wanted to do, but responding with anything other than a clear and direct ‘yes’, in front of her, would make him feel guilty. He sighed.

  “It's…” He thought about his next words for a few moments.

  “Before I can tell you that, I need to ask you a favour.” He swallowed.

  “Yes! Sure, what's up? What do ya need?” She happily nodded.

  “I need to talk with Sol. Alone. Just for a while.”

  Irene froze. A hint of surprise showed on her face, but luckily for Arthur's guilt, no disappointment or sadness could be spotted. She tilted her head for a moment, before shifting her gaze towards the door.

  “Sure, I can go grab him! But promise to tell me after you speak, ok?”

  Arthur smiled lightly and nodded at her, with his eyes closed. Irene quickly left the room, walking down the corridor. Arthur let out a long sigh, as if he had been holding his breath all that time. Being around her was exhausting.

  Though, he couldn't blame her for being so energetic and positive. In the end, she was still a child, and he was doing his best to avoid making her feel bad or embarrassed. He disliked children and teenagers, but he didn't want to become the type of adult that found happiness in making fun of younger people.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Still, she could shut up sometimes… Man, that's mean.”

  He chuckled at himself. There was probably more to her than she showed him, but he didn't care too much about it at the moment. He let himself fall towards the mattress, placing his hands behind him as support for his torso.

  After a few minutes, heavy footsteps rang throughout the corridor leading up to the medical bay. Accompanying them was the sound of rattling, slithering metal, cold steel scraping against the hard floor of the prison.

  The door was pushed open, and an imposing frame came through it. Behind him, he could see Irene, quickly getting out of the way and staying out. Sol entered the room with his arms crossed, and an unreadable smirk on his face.

  He grabbed a chair from one of the corners of the room, placing it beside the bed. His arms, adorned by the golden chains, were resting on the armrests. He leaned backwards, spreading his legs and looking down at Arthur through his shades.

  A few moments passed in complete silence, broken by Sol himself. He started chuckling under his breath, for seemingly no reason, to the point of covering his mouth and part of his eyes with his hand.

  “Is something the problem…?”

  Arthur asked, confused by his behaviour. The man calmed himself down, shaking his head.

  “Nothin' ya gotta worry ‘bout, kid. Ya jus' remin’ me of a certain someone.”

  The boy furrowed his brows, even more confused by his remark, wondering who he could be being compared to. However, he quickly let that thought go. If he wanted to negotiate with Sol, he needed a clear head.

  Arthur swallowed unnoticeably, and breathed in deeply from his nose. He was trying to make himself look calmer than he really was. Even if that man wasn't threatening him in any way, shape or form, he was imposing.

  Even just being in his presence was enough to mess with him and his thought process. He felt tense, as if one wrong movement or word, and he would find himself shackled and bound by those golden chains.

  “Ya know, there's lotsa kids in here scared of li'l ol' me. But trust me, I wouldn't touch a hair on yer head, seein' that absurd potential ya hold.”

  He faked being hurt with the first sentence, before quickly going back to his unreadable smirk. He leaned towards Arthur. His gaze, even hidden by the sunglasses, felt as if it was piercing his very being, reading his every subtle movement and meaning.

  “So, ya wanted ta talk ‘bout my offer for ya, yeah?”

  Arthur’s brows dropped slightly, his face taking on a more serious expression. Of course, he already knew why he wanted to talk one on one. What would be said in that room, wasn't for Irene to hear.

  He nodded, and locked eyes with Sol.

  “That's part of it. But before that… How much do you know about me?”

  It was true that he wanted to ask him some questions about the offer, and what joining the special task force entailed in detail. However, more than that, he needed to know whether Sol knew about his body, and his identity.

  The man's smirk grew slightly. A chill ran down Arthur's back.

  “Arthur Aerhius. Ya got captured alongside another elf, Ayn Aerhius. Ya were in a coma for unknown reasons, ‘till ya woke up, with no memories at all. No memories at all, but ya sure know a lot about magic, ‘n how ta work yer way around a Moonstone. Not ta mention, memories ain't a problem, with that li'l Gift of yours.”

  Through the tinted glasses, Sol's eyes glowed with an eerie light. Arthur wasn't sure whether he was showing hostility towards him, or he was showing the cards he could offer him if he accepted the offer.

  “I know some more, too. But, ya gotta earn the rest of that information. Ya know, knowledge ain't cheap these days.”

  “So, there's no problem with me faking my amnesia, then.”

  Sol’s eyes widened for a moment. An expression of genuine, albeit not overwhelming surprise, was painted on his face.

  “Yer not an amnesiac? Then, why go ‘n ask me what I know ‘bout ya?”

  In a gesture that didn't fit him in the slightest, he titled his head, while asking that question. Arthur tried to contain himself from showing surprise, in turn. He cussed himself out under his breath.

  For whatever reason, Sol didn't know he wasn't an amnesiac. He thought for sure that he would know about the transmigration, or that he wasn't the original possessor of that body.

  His fingers tapped rhythmically on the surface of the bed. His lips curved upwards slightly, and he kept his eyes locked with Sol's.

  “Information isn't cheap these days. If this is the only chip available to me, I won't hand it out so easily.”

  Sol remained silent for a second, stunned.

  Then, he broke out into a hearty laugh, slapping his thigh. The next instant, his hand was holding onto Arthur's shoulder. The golden chains slithered from his arms, inching towards the elf's skin. He remained calm.

  “Yer a bold one, kid, I'll give ya that. And I like that, I'll tell ya.”

  He retracted his hand, the chains tightening back around his arms. He crossed his arms, with an amused smile on his face. Arthur swallowed quietly.

  “Yer face to face with one of the most powerful men in Teiws, ‘n ya manage to keep a cool head ‘n threaten me… Ya got guts kid. Yes, ya'll make for a great warrior, one day.”

  ‘Well, I wasn't really trying to threaten him…’ Arthur thought to himself. Luckily, that misunderstanding made Sol respect him somewhat. That could be good.

  “So, tell me, kid. What do ya want out of my offer? I'll let ya pick the terms.”

  “I want information about myself. That, and eventually, freedom. I'll join the task force and do whatever tasks you have for me, for those two things.” He replied after thinking.

  Sol raised a brow, with a mix of amusement and ridicule.

  “Ya want to use me as a library, ‘n then desert the army? Ya ain't jus' bold, ya might be slightly insane, kid.”

  Arthur swallowed his own saliva. Did he make a wrong move, asking for freedom, even if it was only an eventuality?

  After a moment of silence, Sol nodded, with a thoughtful expression.

  “I can do that. Ain't a problem. Can't promise ya'll be free soon, though. Now… How ‘bout I tell ya about the task force itself?”

  Arthur mentally pumped his fist, seeing the man's change of expression. His terms had been accepted. Despite Sol's presence and wits, he was surprisingly easy to negotiate with. Or rather, it had gone smoothly.

  There was a chance, still, that Sol had foresaw part of Arthur's requests. He believed in his amnesia, and was ready to use the information about his past as a bargaining chip. And it wasn't hard, to expect him to ask for freedom.

  “Ah, on secon' thought… How ‘bout I have ya meet the other one, first? Ya met with the li'l dragon already, few times. If ya can move, I'll show y'all yer temporary headquarters.”

  He got up from the chair, walking towards the door, and knocking on it a few times. Irene slowly pushed it open, peeking her head in, wondering why she had been called.

  “Um, did you finish talking, Mr Sol?”

  He nodded, placing a hand on top of her head and ruffling her hair. She winced, as if that made her uncomfortable.

  “Yeah. We're goin' ta say hello to that guy from this mornin'.”

  Arthur quickly got up and followed the two, as they walked down the corridors of the prison.