Page 90 of A Requiem of Fire and Ice

Reen Kyong, July 19th

A game. Any fucking game. Pick one.

They line the walls, an assortment of them from the library on the third floor. Why do we have over fifty games here on a damn ship? Who fucking knows? But it seems Alad shelves the games as if this were a home.

A home without women, when I recall the lack of clothes and feminine products for the flat-chested lamb slumbering the day away like it’s the dead of night. We created other resources until we arrived at the Kingdom of Cloud early tomorrow morning. From what Astin warned me, she wears my clothes, washes her bra and underwear every night, and sleeps naked. I offered her clean underwear—Alad did on my behalf—but she apparently howled with laughter at the pocket size at the front and⁠—

She has no fucking filter, which bothers me more than I let on, because if I show it, I know she will continue to grate on my nerves. And if she does that, the game we’re playing will end sooner than expected.

I huff a breathy laugh. Here she is, distracting me again with her nonsense.

Game. What game would Pandora enjoy playing? Games come with twists, so I need something simple enough to extract what I am genuinely after from Pandora: her story. I want to figure her out, so when we fight it out, it will satisfy me to know all there is to know about her.

There won’t be any regrets.

She’s never played games before. Her words came off truthfully: she has never played one, and it’s not that she has played games and hasn’t enjoyed them. What the hell did her parents do with her then?

I eye Battleship, but disregard it because the game annoys me. I know she will lie to win, and I want to win.

Pandora killed her boyfriend—no, she was forced to. Another truth, in a sense, but she didn’t delve into why. I want to know why. Was her boyfriend corrupt and vile?

No, Pandora would have killed him without the forcefulness of her parents if he had treated her like fucking shit. So, he was sweet and caring, filling her world with possibilities and promises that her parents didn’t like.

Monopoly. No, too long.

Scars plague her skin, but she hides them when she knows I am consciously aware of them. Why? Because she hates them. It’s telling. Still, it frustrates me. She frustrates me.

Chess? No. I have played it more times than I can count. It will be an easy win for me. I want the feeling of a challenge, like her.

Pandora also awakened, but she’s lying to me about the reason. She claims it was because I was going to kill her, but it’s a bullshit excuse to dismiss my curiosity. And that’s why I am here, fucking looking at an assortment of board games, because I want to learn more about her without it being a damn chore.

Also…

My focus settles on a dusty, worn-out game, and I pluck it from the shelf. It’s old, and like something from the past, it brings back unwarranted memories of when I was younger, before the Kingdom of Flesh. Every Friday night, after a hearty meal made with loving hands that filled their bellies, the Kyong family sat in the living room, their knees pressed into the mat tucked under the coffee table.

I watched, envious of my brothers and older sister taking turns playing Connect Four. Games like that didn’t interest me at all initially. It is a simple game that involves placing a red or blue piece until it connects to form a line of four.

It sounded so bloody stupid, but I kept watching them. I saw my brother throw a fit because he reacted more emotionally than critically. Dad played with my older sister, but he was more compassionate as an earth elemny. Whenever she wasn’t looking, he moved a blue piece over and acted oblivious so she could win.

The age rots on the box, with a few bent places, scuff marks, and faded lettering. I touch the box, and my rough fingers against the bumps and bruises infuse the box as Alad enters the library.

“Prince Reen,” he says, “I have some knowledge about Pandora’s condition.”

I turn with the game in my hands. “Go on.”

Alad has a delicate book, twisted in cursive ringlets: Fables and Legends from Over a Thousand Years Ago.

“A children’s tale?” I say before he can respond. “Did you learn about Pandora’s sudden awakening from a children’s fantasy book?”

He frowns. “It is the only information that provides an inkling of understanding of how Pandora Hart awoke for a moment.”

I click my tongue but nudge my chin upward, signalling him to share this fairy tale.

“Well, it’s a tale of five friends, and over two thousand years ago, they awakened at the age of thirteen. Then, at thirteen, they moved from their unawakened school to the Academy of Awakening.” Alad paces back and forth. “It tells of children disappearing individually, but that is beside the point. The more research I did, the more it alluded to awakening earlier than twenty-one.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Then why isn’t it in our history books? Wouldn’t we know?”

Alad shakes his head. “Before the kingdoms, it was a messy time. War corrupted Earth, and the smell of rotten corpses infested the land until we fought back. Therefore, it makes sense that most history focuses on the war rather than awakening at thirteen.”