Chapter 73: A Talk

Charon took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. ’It’s okay. You just need to apologize and make amends. This isn’t lightspeed science.’ His fist rapped on the door, thudding the wood a few times. Less than a minute later, the lock clicked. It opened to reveal a room exactly like Charon’s, just mirrored. Emerius stood in the doorway wearing his usual robe, with the hood down. His face wore a controlled expression, neither happy nor sad. The moment he saw Charon, he stepped to the side, allowing him in. "Come in. I was just about to make breakfast." Stepping inside, he flinched as the door shut behind him. The air was thick with tension, making him jumpy. ’Gods, even fighting Wallflower wasn’t this tense!’ Emerius moved with practiced ease to the kitchen set into the far wall. He pressed his hand onto the front of the stove, closing his eyes for a moment before a flame burst from the surface, roaring with intensity. At the same time, he opened a cabinet and withdrew a frying pan, twisting it over to study the interior for residue. "I was not sure you would come." His voice was calm. Measured like the pepper he dumped onto a nearby scale, weighing it before chucking it into a bowl with a few expertly cracked eggs. Withdrawing a whisk from a drawer, Emerius set to beating them, stirring them into an orange liquid with black flecks. "I had to talk myself into it." Charon admitted, choosing to stay by the door. "Talking is not your strong suit?" That made him chuckle, the sound somewhat forced under the circumstances. "Strangely, it’s one of the few things I’ve been told I’m good at. Back at the orphanage, I’d get into a lot of trouble. Talking was the best way I knew to escape. I convinced a lot of people I was innocent." Emerius scoffed, whisking the eggs faster before flicking the instrument to clean it. He held the pan with one hand and the bowl with the other as he poured the liquid out. It instantly began to sizzle on the stove, crackling and popping as it cooked. "And that is what you are here to do? Convince me you are innocent of all wrongdoing?" Charon sighed and shook his head. "No, I’m here to apologize. I’m guilty as charged. I assumed the worst of your family, and for that, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just... not used to dealing with nobles. My planet had two, and I have never even met them." He sputtered as he tried to find the words. "This is all new to me, I’m learning as I go along." Emerius clicked his tongue. "You think I am angry over your comments about my family? Truly, you believe that is the cause?" Growing confused, Charon took a step forward, his words falling out like rocks. "Well, yeah! That was the whole issue, wasn’t it?" Emerius flipped the pan, the eggs flying for a minute before being caught. The action was quick and jerky, followed by the metal skillet banging onto the stove. "My family is strong enough to fight their own battles without me interfering. What angered me so was your annoying conviction that I am my family. That whatever deeds they do, must be by my design, or at least my agreement." ’That’s what has him so upset?’ "Isn’t that what you told me when we met? That your family comes first? Those were your words, not mine! I just wanted to figure out what the hell was going on!" Anger leaked into his voice, sharpening the mood. Emerius turned to him with a flat expression, his emotions only revealed through the slight curve of his lip, as if he were fighting a snarl. "Of course my family comes first, Charon. I have only recently met you. That does not make me a cog in the machine of their machinations. I am a man of free will and conscious, just like you." Charon’s brow furrowed as he struggled to find a response, the logic too strong for him to truly debate it. The energy left him as he exhaled loudly. His body deflated like a puppet that had lost its strings. "Look, I wanted to say I’m sorry. I really am. You have done a lot for me, and I want our friendship to continue. We are both stuck in this realm, and that’s my fault. I want to make things right." Emerius flipped the omelet again, his spare hand reaching into a jar full of green leaves. Pulling out a few, he expertly sprinkled them on top, a smile crossing his face as he did so. "I know. It is one of the few reasons that have kept me in this city. If I doubted your sincerity, I would have fled in the night, but I do trust you." That somehow confused Charon more than anything else. "Why? I haven’t shown you trust; if anything, I’ve broken it. Why would you continue to trust me?" The blonde swordsman smirked as he poured the egg onto a plate. "It is simple; you are a bad liar. You may think otherwise, but I have seen good liars. You have little in common. I can trust you because I know your goals, and they are noble. You are easily led off the right path, but you still try." With swift movements, he grabbed two pairs of silverware, placing the egg at the table with a fork and knife. He placed the other pair on the opposite end before moving to the fridge and retrieving a strange plate full of fruits. He tapped the stove as he walked passed, banishing the flame. Gesturing to the omelet, Emerius placed his own plate down and spoke. "Sit. I know you were out all night. You will need some protein for the challenges ahead." Frowning, Charon took a few cautious steps forward. "How do you know about that?" The man smirked, the action appearing to be genuinely mirthful as he cut into a yellow fruit with a sharp knife. Red juice poured from the wound, staining the plate with sticky fluid. "When I was out yesterday, I heard passersby mentioning a new fighter at the Stadia. A man they called Jester, who fought with summoned skeletons. Once I saw the mask in your room, I put two and two together. Really, did you expect so little of me?" Grimacing, he sat and gingerly picked up the fork, using its edge to cut off a sliver of his egg and bite it. A light, fluffy texture filled his mouth. It was buttery, with a richness that was well complemented by the earthy flavors of the herbs. Swallowing, he covered his mouth and replied. "I suppose I didn’t consider it. I thought you would’ve been disapproving of it. How do you even know about the Stadia, anyway?" Emerius finished his first fruit and raised an eyebrow. "The Stadia here is not the only one. Most population centers have one. My father was a champion of the one on my homework. Anywhere people gather, they seek entertainment. Blood sports are always a favorite." That fact was news to Charon, who had assumed things like gladiator fights had been historical only. "So you don’t care that I joined the local one?" Emerius shook his head. "Not particularly. I do believe it is a bad decision given your lack of combat experience, but we all learn somewhere. Do not take a losing fight, however, as your success here is tied to mine. Always watch the betting numbers. They are correct more often than you would assume." A sly smile crossed Charon’s face as the mood lifted. "You talk as if you were part of a Stadia yourself." Emerius gave him a flat glare, the pause stretching on to the verge of uncomfortability before the man took a bite of another fruit, this one purple. He chewed slowly, allowing the silence to linger. "I was. My father required that my siblings and I fight in a Stadia until we were the champions of our age group. It took us many months, but we succeeded." Charon’s breath caught before he released a tense chuckle. Eating some more of his omelet, he savored the taste. "How did that go, anyway? Let me guess, you destroyed the other fighters? Had them all begging for mercy within a minute?" Looking up, Charon frowned as he saw Emerius freeze up. Even his eyes stopped moving, holding their position as if staring at a far-off place. "No..." More words didn’t follow, more silence filling the place between them as Charon nervously glanced around, hoping for something else to talk about. Just as he was about to compliment his cooking skills to break the tension, Emerius continued. "I was not a good fighter then. My sister was. She intervened in my fight, saving my life." Charon’s mouth shut, glad he had held his tongue. About to instead compliment his perseverance in surviving such an ordeal, the blonde swordsman added one last statement that changed the mood entirely. "She died so I could continue fighting. She failed her Stadia, so I could pass mine."