There Lives a Beast in the Burning Heart ✓ | a novella

Chapter 16: Finding Himself in Frankle

Argenton eyed Danlen across the room. They were sitting in the downstairs inn of Anything Bistro on full stomachs. Danlen was nodding off while his tawnies flew around his head in smaller versions of themselves. 

Once the meal ended, Argenton became more and more aware of the uneasiness that rubbed his chest and compressed his lungs. But he couldn't think about that now. Like the boy had done, Argenton was to kill his father and finally be free.

The irony was his father Geldon had essentially trained his son to assassinate him. Argenton knew how to exist as a mere shadow in the darkness. If they blew out all the candles in the room now, he was confident he could walk around the room without Danlen, awake or not, noticing him. He took out his dagger and stared at the sharp tip, imagining it sinking into the throat of his father.

Or heart. Or eyes. He had many options depending on how swift he wanted it to be.

"So, you really are going to do it?" Danlen said with a yawn, "No second thoughts?"

Argenton mused about having second thoughts, but he didn't care. His father had long abused him and he still was by holding a soul hostage.

And my memories.

"Won't your sisters be home?" Danlen sat up straight. "I mean, you wouldn't want—"

"They won't hear me."

He pricked his finger on the tip of the blade. It wasn't the same dagger his father gave him years ago. He'd outgrown that one. Staring at the carved designs on the handle, the vines that swirled or twisted with each other, brought no memories except for a hint of powerfulness. Something about this dagger made him swell with invincibility. No one could touch him with this. He swiped the air and saw a memory of it slashing a throat, warm blood splattering his face.

"Argen?"

Could he shut up? Argenton scowled at Danlen. "What? You can't talk me out of it."

Danlen shook his head. "I wanted to say, when you remember more of us, I want you to understand that I did it because that's what friends do. They support each other's fates. I support yours' and you support mine."

Argenton stiffened. The word "fate" sparked a hint of anger in him though he didn't know why. Something about fate and Danlen that he couldn't quite remember.

"Did we fight?" He wondered out loud, but couldn't remember any major blowup. Or he could not be remembering right now. Not until he was freed from this spell.

"Something like that." Danlen petted Veilie's small peacock head. She closed her eyes to his touch. Argenton checked inside his shirt pocket for Sarvy. She was asleep or pretending to be. He didn't know what to do with her later. He had the Haunter as a tawny and probably would for the rest of his life. What did that mean for Sarvy? Why did she want to stay?

One thing at a time. He nodded to himself.

They fell silent. Soon, Danlen fell asleep. Argenton envied his easy breathing as if he didn't have a worry in the world. His long hair fell over his face like a curtain. His tawnies slept around his legs. The harsh jawline sagged a little as he relaxed. One hand fell from his lap, dangling on the side. Argenton had a sudden urge to slip his hand into Danlen's. He clasped his hands together, rubbing the desire away.

None of that. He shook his head and sat quietly, watching Danlen sleep. Soon, he began to breath deeply and let out a light snore. How wonderful, Argenton thought, it must be to be able to sleep without noise in your head. Without anything to worry about besides the day-to-day struggles of a soldier or whether you could go home and see your family.