𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄

Pt 23: Griffith and Kingston Argue ~ Again.

Griffith didn't seem to notice anything wrong. He slowly pulled himself to his feet, no signs of pain or difficulty.

"So, Atharian saved you from Orion?" he prodded. Kingston nodded. "What did he tell you?" The librarian explained his brief stay with the sculptor, hesitating over the part where he'd told him Griffith was slowly dying. He almost didn't tell him, afraid of causing even more pain, but decided he deserved to know. The sorcerer didn't look surprised.

"I've been infected for years," he said. "It's just speeding up now that I'm weaker from cold and using up so much magic on the Storm."

"Couldn't you just recall the spell?" Kingston asked. Griffith shook his head, pulling down the collar of his coat. A metal collar was cinched tightly against his slender neck. Kinston had seen one like it before, on the giant sea slug.

"I've tried. For a long time it was impossible, but my strength built. When I finally was strong enough to attempt it, we were captured," he said. Kingston sighed. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach and upset. Leaning against the wall, he slid down to the floor.

"I should never have left the library," he moaned in despair. "I should have just let myself believe I was seeing things. At least then I would have been blissfully unaware when the Storm hit."

"We'll get out of here," Griffith returned, his indomitable spirits lifting once more.

"Why do you think that?" Kingston demanded. "Optimism isn't going to fix any problems. We're going to die here."

"No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars," Griffith quoted.

"I'm not being pessimistic. I'm being realistic." Kingston felt utterly hopeless, any determination to escape gone. He heard footsteps coming down the hall and looked up — Orion stood on the other side of the door. The librarian glared at him, but he didn't say anything. The immaculate man lifted his hand to open the door when something huge suddenly barrelled into him, knocking him away. To Kingston's surprise and muddled confusion, it was Wilhelm. The minotaur tapped on something, most likely some sort of control panel, and the door opened.

"Come on," he ushered. "Get going!" Griffith began to move toward the door, but Kingston refused to move. He was so tired of running from one disaster to another. It was too hired to fight pointless battles anymore.

"What are you doing here?" Griffith asked Wilhelm.

"I'll explain later," he replied. "Start opening the doors; I'll deal with him." He tilted his head at Kingston. The Atlantean paused, making eye contact with Kingston, who turned his face away, scowling. He heard Wilhelm march into the cell.

"Look at me," he rumbled. The librarian turned his head up, Griffith gone. "Hiding in this cell instead of trying, instead of hoping, is what a coward does," the minotaur said. "Are you a coward?"

"Yes," Kingston said bitterly. "I'm afraid of everything."

"Everyone here is afraid," Wilhelm returned gruffly. "If you weren't afraid, there would be something wrong with you. You need to be afraid before you can be brave, because if you weren't afraid first, it wouldn't be bravery, just stupidity."

"I don't want your pep talk," Kingston replied to him, looking back down at the floor. "I'm perfectly fine right here."

"It isn't a pep talk," Wilhelm said calmly. "And if you refuse to come, I'll just carry you out." Kingston shot a glare at him, incredulous.

"No, you won't," he said. The minotaur lifted his hooflike hands as if in surrender, then grabbed him like he were picking up a child, and, like a child, Kingston pounded at him and kicked and screamed. He didn't want to leave — he was terrified of what might happen. And then he realised: