But I can’t remember anything after that... Not even dessert. He could perfectly recall what he ate for his appetizer, entrée, and soup, as well as how they all tasted. Herscherik could not remember anything after that, try as he did. Therefore, he concluded that one or more of the dishes must have been dosed. Drugged and kidnapped, then. Herscherik recalled that the dessert for that night was going to be fruit tarts. Dangit. I missed out on dessert. Herscherik liked eating in general but especially loved anything sweet. He imagined the golden-brown cookie crust, custard, and seasonal fruit on top. Finally, Herscherik gave up on his regrettably missed dessert. Now, what to do...? Both his brain and senses felt dulled from the drug, which came with the happy coincidence of keeping Herscherik from panicking.
Gradually, his headache subsided and the haze cleared from his mind. Holding back his dizziness, lingering headache, and nausea, Herscherik observed his surroundings with his eyes barely open. He was in a large room that appeared to be some sort of storage. The ceiling was made of decrepit wood, and the thin walls were riddled with holes. Judging from the lack of noise beyond the walls, Herscherik guessed that he was far from the center of town.
There were several people in the room. Two of them, a man and a woman, were arguing. While Herscherik hadn’t seen the man before, he immediately recognized the woman. She was the one who had been by his side since birth, always taking care of him. Meria? She had looked more distraught than Herscherik had ever seen.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt him! I brought Prince Herscherik here because you said you just wanted to talk to him!”
“I wouldn’t have to do any of this if you had gotten through to the king!”
“I did speak to the king! But His Majesty...”
“Won’t help us! I know! Then what other choice do we have!?”
None of the other occupants of the room interrupted their escalating argument.
I’ve never seen Meria this flustered before. Herscherik’s thoughts kept wandering around the mark, still affected by the drug. He remembered that Meria had always tied her hair in a neat bun to match her meticulous work ethic. Now, her hair was in a mess, and her downturned eyes were wet with tears. I think she has a few more wrinkles than when we first met... Meria was much younger than Ryoko’s mother, so Herscherik always saw her more as an older sister than a maternal figure. As Ryoko had been the oldest of three sisters, she had always wanted an older sibling. Herscherik was always grateful for Meria and felt much closer to her than the biological mother he had never met. It sounds like she tried to talk to Father about something... and it didn’t go well? You could have always talked to me... Herscherik tried to vocalize that but struggled to form the words.
“Please! We have to take Prince Herscherik to a doctor!” Meria cried to the man.
She was nearly losing her mind after realizing the true potency of the drug and watching Herscherik remain unconscious for an entire day. She shuddered to imagine Herscherik never waking up. Meria clung to the man’s arm, begging and pleading. The man shook her off of his arm. Meria, not a particularly strong woman, fell to the ground and let out a small cry.
When Herscherik saw Meria tumble onto the floor with a cloud of dust, he let out an audible sound. At that instant, the wooden door of the room flew off of its hinges and into the room, accompanied by a cacophonous sound and another eruption of dust. A figure, clad in all black, emerged from the dust cloud, holding up a muscular man by the neck in each hand. Herscherik knew this figure very well, too.
I thought you specialized in not being detected... Herscherik couldn’t help but wonder if the spy before him, Kuro, could not have come up with a quieter infiltration route.
He had made quite the entrance, like a comic book hero, but his all-black outfit gave him more of an antihero vibe. He had his black hood drawn over his brows and a black cloth around his mouth, his long bangs concealing the rest of his face. Still, his eyes as deep and as red as a pool of blood peeked through his mask with a dangerous gleam. Herscherik saw an almost unbelievable amount of emotion behind those eyes, which had usually seemed so calm.
Kuro tossed one of the incapacitated men in his hands against another man who had been too astonished to react. He let out a grunt like a squashed frog. Unbothered by the sound, Kuro tossed the man in his other hand aside, who also let out the squashed-frog groan even though he only fell to the floor. With his hands now empty, Kuro slowly approached Herscherik. Having snapped out of the initial shock at the intrusion, the remaining men in the room swung at Kuro with metal bars and pieces of lumber. Kuro dodged them all with the minimum amount of movement, chopping their weapons out of their hands and clocking them in the gut. It was all done in a seamless series of maneuvers, with not a single motion wasted.
In less than ten seconds, the three men that had swung at Kuro were all eating dust. The rest of the men in the room were hesitant to attack. In fact, they were immobilized like a deer in headlights.
“Next man who moves, dies,” Kuro declared.
His tone was completely foreign to the one Herscherik had grown accustomed to hearing. It was cold enough to freeze over hell. His declaration was utterly irrefutable—a promise more than a threat. Everyone in the room understood the outcome of any attempts to attack Kuro and stood motionless.
Kuro walked by the immobilized group of men and came up to Herscherik. He took a knee and met Herscherik at eye level. His eyes were completely different now. There was no anger in them, but instead they wavered with concern.
“Did they drug you?” Kuro’s hand touched Herscherik’s forehead.
Herscherik closed his eyes at the refreshingly cool touch.