Eli felt a sharp pain searing through his head as he slowly regained consciousness. The last thing he remembered was angering Ilkama and getting launched into a nearby wall by a chain of glyphs. Though his memory was hazy, Eli tried remembering the sequence. Still recovering from the blow, he could not make sense of his jumbled thoughts.

Barely awake, his senses were crippled. The swordsman heard sounds nearby, recognizing them as peoples' voices. However, he could not understand who they were or what they were saying. The ringing in his ears did not help in identifying the muffled voices. He tried speaking to get their attention but could not find the strength to move his lips. Instead, he let out a quiet and painful groan in hopes of making his presence known.

One of the voices became slightly louder, clearly calling out to him. Unfortunately, the soldier felt himself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness. Though it had taken every ounce of willpower to stay awake, he felt too drained, and the empty void of his vision alongside the tingling sensation rippling throughout his body felt peaceful enough for him to fall back asleep.

"Inform me the moment Eli awakens. Any wasted second, and I shall have your head," Ilkama ordered Curtis, who had been among the guards to return Eli to his room. The king's order sent shivers down the young man's spine.

"Yes, my Lord," Curtis answered, holding back any fear in his voice. He held a fist to his chest and bowed to the king. "You will be the first to know," the boy forced his voice to be monotonous. Tricking Ilkama into thinking he had Curtis under the spell became increasingly taxing; he did not know how long he could maintain his facade. The boy watched as Ilkama quickly turned and left the room. He waited for a moment before dropping his rigid pose and sighing. "Please, wake up," he pleaded, facing his hero.

He felt uncomfortable standing and watching Eli sleep. Knowing his life was on the line, Curtis wished he could do something to help wake the man. With every passing minute, the boy felt more useless and anxious. As the following minutes felt like hours, Curtis began to picture what would happen if Eli never woke up. Before Eli's groan, the boy worried Eli would not wake up. Though, now that Curtis and Ilkama had heard the swordsman's groan, the boy worried Ilkama's quick and fiery temper might blame him for Eli's inability to maintain consciousness. The boy could picture the ways Ilkama may kill him. Recognizing his stress, the boy realized he had to do something to pass the time and take his mind off the sleeping warrior beside him.

Turning to Eli's desk, Curtis decided to organize it. The scattered papers that laid on his desk provided the boy an escape from his mind. Picking up a large group of notes, Curtis tapped them against the table, aligning them to one another. As there was no empty part, he shifted all loose papers left slightly, giving him a place to stack them on the right. As Curtis reached for more, he curiously saw "Memory" written on a paper. Knowing his hero had lost his memories, the boy wondered if he could do something to help bring them back. He picked it out and began reading. Whereas Eli ignored information about the glyph, Curtis read every minuscule detail.

"In the event, a specific memory is desired, Bursor can precede this glyph. Only usable on other people, this sequence will allow the users to choose what is revealed with a simple thought," he read. The boy's eyes jumped to other scattered papers in hopes of finding one titled Bursor. When he couldn't find it, he shuffled through the papers he'd previously stacked. When that failed, he continued reading the current note. "However, if the two parties think of separate memories, they will view a corrupt memory. This one is an amalgamation of the others. Unlike its usage alone, the sequence will show this memory to both entities."

Though there was more to read, Curtis swiftly reached for the sword but realized it would be useless; there were no items he had memories of in the room. And while he could use it on Eli, he did not know how to draw Bursor, and he could not tell the unconscious Eli to think of a memory. Giving up on the idea of using it, he continued to read the paper. "The cost of using this glyph is low. However, using the aforementioned sequence results in a medium cost. Overusing such a sequence will prove taxing on the mind. Resting several hours between uses is recommended."

At the bottom of the page was a drawing of the glyph. Though there was nothing to use it on, Curtis tried drawing the glyph anyway and watched as the sword lit up yellow. He smiled, learning anyone was capable of using glyphs so long as they knew about them.

Watching the yellow aura engulf the sword was mesmerizing and made the boy feel like there was a chance Eli could break the cycle and save the kingdom. Staring out the window, Curtis watched as the kids played in the courtyard. Every few minutes, one of the kids' parents would look at the castle, tell the kids something, and the kids would calm down. He yearned for the day everyone could live without fear of Ilkama, as well as for the day he could be out there.

Still fascinated by the sword, Curtis began reading more of Eli's notes. He gained a better understanding of what the swords were capable of and the connection they have with the wielder. He dreamt of having a sword like Eli's, desiring the strength to protect the ones he loves. He smiled at the thought.

As several hours passed by, Eli slowly regained consciousness. His senses were back, but his body still felt heavy; he would be rendered useless for at least a few days. Barely able to lift his head, the swordsman saw Curtis sitting at his desk.

"Curtis?" he whispered weakly. The boy's head shot up and spun around, staring at Eli.

"You are awake!" Curtis cheered, running to him and hugging the swordsman tightly.

"Not so hard," Eli laughed, coughing intensely. "I am too weak right now."

"I must go get Lord Ilkama," Curtis jumped up. "He will kill me if I do not tell him of your consciousness."

"He will not kill you, it is okay," Eli answered, grabbing his friend's arm. The boy, however, felt the shiver climbing his spine once again.

"I trust your word, but not his. Please, I must," he insisted, staring at Eli, who simply nodded.

The boy hurriedly left the room and sprinted down the halls, towards the throne room. While nobody had been running around him, he knew this would not be seen as suspicious to his king, as time-specific orders generally made the servants sprint. Once he reached the king, he collapsed onto one knee and bowed his head.

"I am sorry," he gasped for breath, "to disturb you. Eli is awake," he reported. Looking up at Ilkama, who looked very comfortable, laying on the throne.

"Thank you, young one," Ilkama said, shuffling off the throne and onto his feet. "Please, rise," he said, heading towards the boy. Complying, the boy worried he did a poor job convincing Ilkama of his compliance. Realizing he didn't say "my lord," the boy was concerned this would be his last day alive. Though his heart rate began rising, Curtis tried to maintain a straight face. "You have done well," Ilkama placed a hand on Curtis's shoulder. "Your family is very proud of you, Curtis. I am glad you are on our side," he whispered before running in the direction of Eli's room.

Curtis fell to the floor, breathing heavily. The stress was too much to handle. Could Ilkama already know I am not under his spell? Why would he say such a thing? The questions flooded the boy's mind. Knowing he could not stick around, Curtis rushed out of the throne room and up to the roof for a short period, where he could get fresh air and see his family down below.

Meanwhile, Ilkama reached Eli's chambers. Knocking on the wall, Ilkama walked in. Eli had been sitting up with his back against the wall, blankly staring across the room.

"How are you feeling?" asked Ilkama. Eli slowly and painfully turned his gaze towards his friend, giving a light smile.

"I am recovering," he reassured. "That was very powerful. Remind me not to get on your bad side," he chuckled. Ilkama sat at the desk.

"You put up a good fight. It is not often I must resort to chaining glyphs like those," Ilkama patted Eli's leg, though the swordsman could barely feel anything.

"I am deeply sorry about the potions," Eli said, solemnly. "If you wish, I can help you collect the resources to remake them."

"There is no need to worry," Ilkama raised his hand. "I accept your apology the first time and have already sent some of our men to retrieve the resources necessary to recreate them. Within a few days, I shall be able to recreate all that I have lost. Unfortunately, with the destruction of my potions, I do not have anything to revitalize your strength. You should get some rest. I will visit you tomorrow," Ilkama said, standing up and leaving the room.

Having just woken up, Eli did not wish to go to sleep despite feeling exhausted. Sitting in bed for a couple of minutes, Eli wondered how he could make up for having destroyed Ilkama's potions. Perhaps he could learn alchemy and help make the potions once the resources have been gathered. He believed that would be the best way to make it up. Just as he was about to zone out and consider how potions were made, he heard a voice at the door.

"Lord Eli," the voice was Curtis's. "May I come in?"

"Of course. How may I be of assistance?" asked Eli. Curtis walked to the desk and picked up Eli's sword, bringing it to him.

"I read about some of your glyphs. Are you familiar with Memory?"

"Yes, I used it on that image with me and Ilkama in it. I remember the day it was taken."

"How about Bursor?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Chain them together, think of The Great Revolt, and touch me with the sword. It will bring back your memories of it," he insisted. Eli blinked a few times. "'This sequence will allow the users to choose what memory is revealed with a simple thought,'" Curtis quoted the notes. Eli nodded. Carefully drawing Bursor then Memory, the sword lit up light orange. Not recognizing the color combination, Curtis grew a little scared but put his faith in his king. Eli repeated the words "Great Revolt" in his head and placed the sword against his friend.

*                              *                              *

Eli charged into battle. His sword was held high and the people against him were numerous. The enemy wore the guards' armor, reinforcing what Eli had been told previously. He looked around and saw the Bronze Foxes on the front lines with him. Charles and Devon charged alongside him at the guards, while Sarah and Albert stood back. Sarah gave Albert potions and he would throw them at the guards. Upon the glass shattering, the potions exploded.

Other citizens charged alongside them. However, their gear was homemade. The swords they wielded were either blunt, short, broken, or looked weak enough that they wouldn't inflict any pain on the guards.

The battle felt easy to Eli. The guards hardly challenged him and focused on taking out the civilians. Curtis held a blunt sword and attempted to fend off a guard, but was losing.

"Eli!" he called, begging to be helped. Holding his sword sideways, Curtis tried parrying a guard's vertical strike. Down on one knee, the soldier feared losing his life. Upon arrival, Eli did not hesitate to strike down the guard, saving the young boy.

"It is okay if you cannot keep fighting. There is no shame in supporting us from afar. Know your limits and understand the importance of knowing when to fight and when to run," Eli offered, effortlessly holding off the guards while talking. "Hone your skills and continue to grow. Your strength will help us win this war, one way or another."

Inspired by what Eli said, Curtis nodded and fled to his home, locking the door behind him. Eli, on the other hand, continued striking the guards. Despite surrounding him, Eli was fully aware of his surroundings. While the guards struck continuously, Eli could always dodge many strikes while parrying others. Drawing the five-pointed star on his sword, Eli jabbed the sword into the ground, creating a tremor and knocking the guards off-balance.

"Eli!" Charles called. "Go take care of Ilkama, the rest of us can handle the guards out here!" he recommended.

"Right!" Eli sprinted towards the castle, drawing Bursor and taking out any guard who stood in his way. As he entered the castle and into the throne room, he saw Ilkama sitting on his throne. Standing up, the Dark Lord clapped.

"Welcome, Eli. You finally turned your back on your people. Your mother and father would be disappointed to hear that," he stood up and raised his sword. Are you ready to die?"

Eli let out a battle cry and charged at his adversary. Eli began slashing randomly at the man, hoping a strike would connect. Single-handedly, Ilkama was able to parry any strike. When Eli drew Bursor on his sword, Ilkama drew a glyph to color his purple. Once the swords connected, Eli's sword was flung out of his hands.

"Enough!" Ilkama yelled, stabbing Eli in the stomach. The swordsman coughed up blood and fell to the floor. "This is my birthright. I deserve this after the conquest, and you wish to take it away from me? You could have ruled with me, but you are too weak!" Ilkama kicked the swordsman while he was down. Eli tried pushing himself up, but failed; he was losing blood quickly.

"Ilkama..." he coughed, barely able to get the name out.

"I would kill you, here and now," Ilkama started, crouching to match Eli's eye level, "but I have other plans for you. I will bring you within death's reach and prolong your suffering. This is what you deserve for turning against our people. If you somehow return here, I hope you will be more cooperative. Perhaps we can rule together, and you may find your honor as a Mienard.

Ilkama drew another glyph on the sword, making it light up maroon. Jabbing it in the wound he'd previously made, Ilkama began draining Eli's lifeforce. Eli cried out in agony as he became weaker but eventually collapsed onto the floor, though still breathing. Ilkama took out his sword and picked up Eli. Walking into the courtyard, he revealed to the population the war was over and that they had lost. Having made little progress in defeating the guards, the citizens gave up; Eli was their best chance at winning the war.

From his house, Curtis could see Ilkama on his way out of the kingdom with Eli in his arms. He thought Ilkama would bury the swordsman's body, rather than take him to the abandoned prison in the west.

*                              *                              *

Eli gasped as he came back from the memory. He had been lied to for weeks by the man he once considered a friend. The others had always been telling the truth. Ilkama had manipulated Eli, rather than Charles. Many of the questions he once had were answered by this memory. For the first time in a while, his mind became clear. Now, all that was left to do was escape.