Blades of Grass

A Redemption

"Why are you adamant on joining us?"

I wake up to the sound of Aesar and Presz arguing. Their raised voices pierce through the walls, pulling me out of sleep.

"For the thrill of adventure and the knowledge to be gained," Presz answers, his voice a mix of eagerness and desperation.

"Bullshit," Freyja cuts in. "You're not tagging along with us just for that. You'd be better off keeping your distance."

As I step out and head toward Room 4, their voices get louder. I knock lightly on the door.

"Who's there?" Aesar's voice is tense.

"Qura's calling," I reply.

Aesar opens the door, and I step inside. Presz is standing there, looking like a stray dog hoping for scraps.

"Why is he still here?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"We don't know," Aesar replies. "He was passed out outside the door when we found him."

"Please, I'm beggin' ya," Presz pleads. "I truly regret what I did to Alvin, and I want to make it up to you. Let me join."

"This reeks of desperation," I say, eyeing him suspiciously.

"..."

"..."

"Fine," Presz finally admits, his shoulders slumping. "I'm in trouble. The ruse I pulled—well, it wore off. They know I tricked them. Now I'm a target, same as you. I'd rather stick with three warriors than get picked off on my own."

"So much for a tongue that could lie to Uphion," Freyja mutters.

"If I go out there alone, I'll be dead by sunset. And I can help you—I've got knowledge, contacts... things anyone would kill for."

"You could be lying to us right now," I say, not letting up.

"I swear, cross my heart."

Unamused, I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe. Presz's actions yesterday were unforgivable. If there's a way to verify his story and punish him at the same time, I'll take it.

I step forward, placing my hand on his head.

"No need to cross anything—you'll die if you fail."

"Fail wha—" Before he can finish, he collapses to the floor, unconscious.

"You killed him already?!" Aesar shouts.

"No," I respond calmly, pointing to my head. "He's in here with Qura now."

"You can do that?" Freyja asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Just came up with the idea. Qura's not thrilled about it, though."

Inside my mind, Presz's consciousness stirs. His voice echoes in my head.

'Where am I? I can't see!'

'You're in my head. Someone here would like to test you,' I respond, keeping my mental tone neutral.

'Wha—how? Where am I? It's pitch black in 'ere!'

'I told you I didn't want to do this. There's a better way to test him without involving me,' Qura's voice grumbles in the back of my mind.

'Oh my, what a sweet voice! Betcha look beautiful.'

'I don't want to hear it.'

'Don't worry,' I say to Qura. 'I just need him scared enough to tell the truth. You don't even have to show yourself.'