The alarm blared, echoing off the walls of the empty house. With so much room, one would think the noise wouldn't be as annoying but it was the total opposite. It could have been because I hated mornings and everything pissed me off but the noise was the most annoying thing I'd ever heard.
I buried my face into my pillow, trying to drown out the sound as I allowed my tired eyes to fall shut. Unfortunately, the sound was too loud and I ended up throwing my pillow at the alarm, successfully unplugging the alarm but knocking off my lamp in the process, the room dimming with it.
I slipped out of bed, walking to the other side of the room to flick on the ceiling light. White floaters dotted my vision but after a few blinks they were gone, allowing me to clearly see my empty room.
A sigh escaped my lips as I walked to my drawers, digging through the sloppily folded clothes. After a moment of contemplation, I decided I'd just go straight to taking a shower instead of slipping on an outfit just to change out of it.
I stepped out of my room, clothes and towel in hand. My footsteps echoed off the walls, only further reminding me of the loneliness of it.
Even when I had lived in a much larger house than this, at least I didn't feel so alone. My foster dad was never home but there were small parts of the house that represented him. Like the awkward family pictures we'd taken when I was younger, hanging on the wall beside the stairs, or like the extra shoes always in the way at the front door that I'd trip on every time I walked in the door.
Even the bland curtains represented him and made me feel welcome at least.
But now that I'd moved into the—well, my—apartment, everything seemed out of place. There wasn't anything but my clothes in the dresser and blankets on my bed in the bedroom. Now that I'd broken the lamp, I didn't even have that. Granted, I only moved in last week so it was expected not to have everything set up, but I didn't even have any boxes to unpack.
I sighed, throwing my clothes on the bathroom counter. I mean, it wasn't like someone was going to come visit and see the empty apartment anyway.
After I finished getting undressed, I turned the water on, stepping into the shower and letting the scalding hot water spray across my body, steam quickly filling the room and dusting the mirror. As I lathered my hair with shampoo, my mind drifted back to how empty it was.
And it wasn't just my apartment anymore, it was my whole life. It seemed it had been drained of it's color, like the world had. Only one thing interested me and I was determined to hang on to that last shred of hope. All I had to do was make it past college, then I'd be just fine, but it was only my first day and I had to go for four years.
But even then, I was still just a pawn in this game. Even if I did get to handle firearms everyday, I was still only being used for someone else's purpose. I was getting paid to do the work and the higher-ups were getting paid to take the credit.
I closed my eyes, stepping back so that my head was in the water, the foamy soap running down my neck, shoulders, and down my back, swirling down the drain.
I hurriedly finished my shower, stepping out and wrapping a towel around my waist, the steam created a fog-like blanket over my vision, fogging up the mirror. I ran my hand across the glass, creating a streak that exposed my face. After a glance at the small white scar above my eyebrow, I wiped off a larger section in the mirror and got to drying myself.
I skipped breakfast, deciding I'd grab something on the way there and even if I ended up skipping that too, I could get something at lunch. Once I was out of the house, I made my way through the crowded streets, keeping my head down.
I could feel eyes on me, judging me, deciphering me. I felt my chest tighten and my fists clenched on the hem of my jacket. The voices of everyone around me began to get louder, as if someone was steadily turning the knob on a radio. Even the wind from the cars passing by made me flinch away from the road.
You're only drawing more attention you fucking idiot!
I shook my head, slipping into the closest store and closing the door, allowing it to shut out the world along with it. My chest only began to tighten more, like a hand was wrapping around my lungs, squeezing out the air and keeping it from letting any more in.
It was fucking painful.
Get a hold of yourself. You have to get a hold of yourself.
I coughed, ripping my bag open and digging in it, searching for the familiar plastic. When I couldn't find it, my head began to pound, each cough only fueling the aching. My mouth dried and my chest began to ache even more, pins and needles running up my arms, warmth centering at my feet.
Shit, shit, shit.
I tipped my bag, falling to my knees and digging through the contents, my hands shaking, almost vibrating. "Fuck, where is it?" I hissed.
"Are you alright, young man?"
I snapped my head up, my eyes meeting with blue ones, a deeper shade than mine. An older man stood before me, maybe in his mid thirties. His black hair was slicked back, his body fit neatly with a black suit. Everything about him radiated class.
"I ca—" I ducked my head as my voice came out as more of a breath than an actual word. My hands rested on my thighs, shaking furiously. I focused on my breathing, forcing my lungs to take in even just a tiny bit of air even if it hurt.
"Wait, are you having a panic attack!?" I looked back up, jumping when I saw that the man was now kneeling in front of me, his eyes wide and filled with concern.
I froze in shock.
Concern? For a random stranger? For someone like me?
No, that's not right. You misread the situation.
I shook my head as the man dug in his pockets, glancing up at me. My headache began to get worse, the familiar blackness seeping into my eyes, the world slowly turning. The man's eyes got wider. A gentle hand wrapped around my wrist, keeping me from falling over. But even if it was gentle, I jerked away, an involuntary whimper escaping my throat, the last of my breath leaving my lungs.
If I wasn't having a panic attack before, I sure as hell was now.
My eyes opened wider, vanquishing the darkness as I curled in on myself, my throat contracting, followed by a fit of dry coughing.
The man's hand grazed my wrist but didn't linger too long, moving down and prying open my clenched fist, a cold object weighing on my palm.
I looked down to see my inhaler.
A cold feeling rushed over my body as I fumbled to get it open, dropping the cap on the ground and bringing it to my lips.
One.
Two.
Three.
Exhale.
The tangy taste touched my tongue, but it was my salvation.
One.
Two.
Three.
Exhale.
With each exhale, my chest went back to it's regular rise and fall rhythm.
Now that I'd gotten a hold of my breath, I focused on it, bringing it to a steady rhythm. My left hand clenched the inhaler. I had lost it, all my resolve, in an instant. An instant that I didn't even see coming.
What the fuck!?
I thought I was done with this, I thought I'd controlled it or at least kept it from affecting my life to this level. But I had another panic attack, and right in the middle of town, too. Luckily, this store was open.
Speaking of...
I looked up. The interior was dark and gloomy, the wallpaper torn up and the register was tipped over at the counter. There were only three shelves, which were stacked with dusty books and laced with spider webs. The black curtains were stained and wrinkled, blocking out all the light. There was a room at the back of the store but judging by the many books and boxes blocking it off, it probably hadn't been opened in a while. The only light was a small lamp in the corner of the room, the lamp shade cracked and letting the warm glow through.
"Son, are you okay?" the man asked. For a moment I'd forgotten about him. I met his gaze but then looked back down.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just got a little overwhelmed," I said, hurriedly gathering up my spilt supplies. The man tsked and then began to help gather my stuff. I looked up at him, surprised.
"What?" he asked, smirking. "You act like you've never been helped before."
"I—I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head and stuffing my supplies into my bag before opening it to let him put the stuff he'd grabbed into it.
Once we stood up, I kept my head down. Even if I didn't, he was so tall that I would have just been looking at his chest anyway.
"I can't believe the Sire was so determined to have you," he said.
"What?" I asked, making a face. The man smirked again and I ducked my head. "I mean—I don't—if I spoke—"
"Don't do that, you were right to question," he stopped me and then ran a hand over his face. "How about you take a seat for a moment, let us get to know each other."
I knew I shouldn't since I'd just met this man and knew absolutely nothing about him but I didn't have the guts to tell him no, so I just followed his lead as he brought a chair out from the back of the store. I took a seat across from him, my bag in my lap and my head down.
"First, let's start with your name?" he asked.
"Um, it's Ryker," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Ryker Schofield."
"Like the gun?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I chuckled. "Yeah, my social worker had an interesting sense of humor."
"Your social worker?" he asked, leaning forward, lacing his fingers and letting his arms rest on his knees.
"Uh, yeah, I haven't seen him in a while though," I said, clearing my throat.
After a moment of silence, I looked up at the man. He was looking at the ground, his eyebrows furrowed.
Then, he looked up at me, his eyes holding fascination, like he was looking at a rare specimen in a science lab. "Tell me something," he said. "Imagine you're in a room with only one door and no windows. There is one man, much larger than you, that is blocking the door. Two other men are coming towards you at different angles. How do you get out of that situation?"
My eyes widened a bit. I ran my hand through my hair, looking down at the ground.
In a situation like that, the larger man is either the king or someone working closely with the king and is in charge, like a knight. Since it's unlikely that the king would move from his spot with his pawns, its more likely that the man is the king. To win, you gotta outsmart the pawns and strike the king.
Unfortunately, in a one-on-one fight, it's almost impossible that I would win.
So, when you're at a disadvantage, you use them against themselves.
"If the ki—the man by the door is the one in charge, which I'd assume he is, and even if he wasn't, he'd still be my biggest problem," I said. "Which means if I happened to outsmart the other two, I'd still have him to deal with. With all three of them, I could bring the big guy away from the door, which would be my best chance at escaping without conflict."
I snapped my mouth shut, looking back at the man. He smirked and I glanced away.
"I'd meant to wait for you, offer you the deal and then be on my way," he said. "But since you were in a rough state when you came in, I had my doubts and thought I might not offer at all. It's rare that Tairen makes a mistake with his choosing but after seeing how—how do I say this—feeble you were, physically, I thought this would be one of those rare times."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, keeping my head down.
"You normally have panic attacks, yes?" he asked, standing up. I looked up, feeling my face heat up as I nodded slowly. "And that's okay because we can help with that, or we can try to."
"I'm sorry but I don't understand," I said, my hand gripping my inhaler inside my bag as I felt my chest tighten again.
"I'm recruiting you to join The King's Guard," he said, ruffling my hair. "This position is offered to people who have been through a tough life and want to—or need to—find a purpose. You're put into a group of others similar to you and are tasked with protecting the King. You're sole duty is to protect Vrateldo, Chison, the King's home, no matter the cost. You'll choose your placement and then you'll be put through training."
"That doesn't—I'm still confused," I said.
He smiled this time, the light reaching his eyes and crinkling the corners. "You'll understand the details if you accept but I'll explain as much as I can at this moment," he said, sitting back down and leaning toward me. "Chison is a country hidden in the folds of the universe. A great scientist learned how to break through this veil and discovered a land where all the monsters and legends of this world found sanctuary as our world advanced. This scientist founded a beautiful country, following the traditions of that world by creating castles and villages in order to respect the monsters. He became the King and built a great city named Vrateldo, which houses the royal family and the great castle. He slowly brought in more and more people to inhabit this land while raising a family. Not long ago, the King fell ill and unfortunately died. In order to hold up his father's wish, the Prince took over with his wife and created the King's Guard, a group of soldiers meant to protect Vrateldo, the King, and Chison as a whole. Many others have already chosen what they want, and now you're being offered this position as well."
My eyes widened, my hand dropping my inhaler completely.
I laughed because I was confused. Because there was no way any of that was true. Because even if it was, why would the King of something as special as that be scouting me?
"Are you...okay?" the man asked, uncertain.
"And what are you, like the butler or something?" I asked, laughing even harder, hunching over because I couldn't breathe for a different reason now.
"No!?" he said, making a face like I was crazy. "I'm the Duke of Croshaw!"
"Croshaw!?" I asked, laughing even harder. After a moment, he began to laugh with me, a softer laugh though, like he was still hesitant.
It'd been a while since I'd laughed genuinely and I didn't know if it was because I was delirious from having a panic attack or that I was just truly fascinated with how stupid that sounded. It seemed more like the former, though.
Slowly, my laugh began to get quieter and by the time I'd sobered up, the man was staring at me, a wide smile on his face, and I was brought back to reality. I cleared my throat, sitting up and looking at the ground.
"I'm sorry, please continue," I said, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing.
"You can decide whether you want to join or not," he said, pulling out a card, the smile still on his face. "You'll be leaving everything behind. Your family, your school, your entire life, and you'll never be able to come back, we can't have people jumping back and forth through the fold." He handed me the card. "You can have five years to decide since your career requires a Bachelor's Degree and I'm not sure if you want to finish that or not."
"Five years?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes, it's a hard decision to make," he said, standing up and walking to the door.
"Wait, you said something about my career? How'd you know about that?" I asked.
"Well, I actually knew everything about you before I even came here, including your name and background," he said. "By the way, I'm Cedric."
He opened the door as I looked down at the card.
Cedric Foreman.
Duke of Croshaw, Chison.
There was nothing else on the card. No phone number or address, just a name and title.
I closed my eyes as the door clicked shut. My foster dad hadn't been in San Diego for almost a year. Even when he was here, he just took pity on me, barely even speaks to me and if he does it's usually about when his next trip will be. I don't have friends and no other family. I wanted to be a weapon's tester but what would be the point of that? I was still just a lowclass piece on the board.
I wasn't sure I believed Cedric. Honestly, who the hell would? But I knew that even if it was just a small group of people making up some sort of game, at least I could pretend I was something more than just a pawn.
Before I knew it, I bolted out of the door, back into the bustling crowd. My eyes scanned each face and each outfit, searching for those blue eyes and suit. It wasn't long before I caught a glimpse of black and then caught Cedric's familiar face.
I shoved through the people, apologizing on my way.
I wrapped my hand around his arm and he turned around, a genuinely surprised look on his face. I sighed, hunching over to catch my breath.
"I—you—are you serious?" I asked breathless, my hand dropping from his sleeve.
"Quite," he said, his face bewildered.
"Listen," I said, standing up. "I don't like people and people don't usually like me. I'm not a social person but when I want something I try my damndest to get it and I assure you that I'll protect whatever that place is with my all as long as you allow me to."
"You're deciding now?"
"Yes," I said, nodding. "But don't expect much from me because I can't give you much but I'll do my best. Just—please."
He fell silent and the noise from the city around me didn't seem near as loud as the beating of my own heart.
This could be my chance to move up a space.
Don't fuck it up, Ryker.
He looked down at the ground a smile spreading across his face. "I don't know why you're even asking, I asked you."
"I just—" I felt my face heat up "—I thought that, maybe—"
"I'd changed my mind?" he asked and then shook his head. "Of course you can come. You don't need anything, we can replace everything when we get to Chison. I'll see you tomorrow." He turned around and continued down the street, waving.
In the end, everyone fights their way to the top. Sometimes you cheat and sometimes you sin but in the end, everyone just wants the same thing.
I'd fought my whole life, playing the honorable game. I played by the rules as much as I could and when I didn't, it was for a good reason. I didn't cheat and I didn't sin to get to the top.
But I decided it was about time I started.