I didn’t fall asleep right away.
First there was warmth. Then the sensation of movement. Someone was carrying me.
My half-asleep mind lazily noted: carefully. So it’s one of ours. We stayed in the tavern too long. Far too long for a child — even one like me. Voices, laughter, the smell of wood and food — everything blurred and sank somewhere at the edge of memory.
When they laid me down, someone’s fingers ran through my hair.
Slowly. Confidently. Without words.
I don’t like that.
Or rather… I do.
But I don’t admit it.
So I just pretended to be asleep deeper than I actually was.
And then I really did fall asleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night.
Not from noise — from silence.
I opened my eyes.
The picture was… familiar.
Liara.
Hanging from the ceiling, hooked by her legs over a beam like a bat. Calm. Relaxed. Even beautiful, if you don’t think about how abnormal that is.
Inea and Dorwood were sleeping on the floor.
Inea — curled up, barely breathing.
Dorwood — sprawled out like a fallen tree. Snoring.
I didn’t move. Just watched.
And then something inside me started speaking.
Not a voice.
Me.
The second me. The one that’s always there. Everyone has one. Not everyone wants to listen.
— Why do you need them?
— Don’t answer. You know.
I stayed silent.
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— Why? You’re playing the fool again.
— Pretending. Living for pleasure.
— You live for the feeling of being held.
— Of being needed.
I shifted my gaze to the ceiling.
— You know it yourself: you could go alone.
— On the campaign. Right now.
— Destroy the demon army. Not metaphorically. For real.
I knew.
— You don’t need allies.
— You don’t need friends to “watch your back.”
— That’s weakness.
— You can do everything yourself. You always could.
My fingers tightened unconsciously.
— You could leave right now.
— Alone.
— And if they follow you?
— You’re not protecting them. You’re putting them at risk.
Liara shifted slightly in her sleep, still hanging upside down.
— Zenhald, are you stupid?
— You live for affection?
— For what? To have friends?
— The demon army would cease to exist in a few days.
The silence pressed.
— You don’t need allies.
— They don’t strengthen you. They’re ballast.
— You have enormous power.
— The kind that can truly change things.
— And what are you doing with it?
I closed my eyes.
— Their presence doesn’t make you stronger.
— It makes you weaker.
— You’re not a village boy.
— You’re not weak.
— You were the Demon King in a past life.
The words were calm. No anger.
That made them heavier.
— Where are you spending your strength?
— You spent a whole week walking around with friends.
— Just wandering. Here. There.
A week.
— Wasted time.
— Meaningless.
I inhaled.
— And what’s the point of assembling a team?
— Why?
— If they go with you, they’ll die.
— Because they’re weak.
— Just so you won’t be feared?
Pause.
— You’re not just human.
— You killed people.
— Not “accidentally.” Not “forced.”
— You killed consciously.
— You decided who was human and who wasn’t. Decided who lives?
— You’re a monster.
— Don’t deny it.
— You know it.
I stared into the darkness.
— I. I. I. — what “I”?
— Who are you?
— Look into your own eyes.
— Honestly.
Liara slightly turned her head in her sleep.
— You don’t need anyone.
— And no one needs you.
Flat. Without malice.
— Are you dependent?
— On other people’s attention?
My fingers clenched.
— You pretend you don’t care.
— But every time you look.
The words fell one after another.
— At how they look at you.
— What they think about you.
— How you appear in their eyes.
— You play indifference.
— But you check their reaction. Always.
I closed my eyes.
— Enough, Zenhald.
— Stop playing hero.
— You’re not a hero.
— But you pretend to be one.
Images surfaced on their own:
dramatic entrances,
long battles,
unnecessary words,
waiting for someone’s gaze.
— You could end it faster.
— But you don’t want to.
Silence.
— You stretch it out.
— You enjoy it.
I knew.
— What do you want from this life?
The question was empty. The answer already existed.
— Why are you fighting on the humans’ side?
I didn’t answer.
— Because you divided the world into good and evil?
Pause.
— No.
Colder.
— You didn’t divide good and evil.
— You chose the ones you like.
The words were precise. Like a verdict.
— You don’t protect the “righteous.”
— You protect the pleasant ones.
The ones who feel warmer.
The ones who stroke your head.
The ones who aren’t afraid.
— How clever you are, Zenhald.
No irony.
— You’re wasting time.
That one hit the heaviest.
— Time.
A week.
Laughter.
Tavern.
Sleep.
— You’re losing it again.
And then I quietly, mentally replied.
— …Yeah. You’re right. As usual.
I opened my eyes.
Liara was still hanging from the ceiling.
Inea was breathing evenly.
Dorwood was snoring.
And suddenly I understood — not an excuse, not an answer, just a fact:
I know I can do everything alone.
I just…