Theodosius perched on the edge of his bed. He eyed the large wooden door to his bedchambers, fearing the voices and sneaking footsteps that weren't there, then the open window. The drapes swayed gently in the cool breeze of the night and the soft lapping of the Philip Sea below seemed almost inviting.

  He turned away and found a large, freestanding mirror between the two. Its frame was ornately engraved gold, a relic of the past independent dynasties of Calor. His pitiful reflection sat within the frame staring back at him.

  "Why? Why? I'm so sorry." He buried his head in his palms, yet the image of his reflection remained, punishing him with its honesty.

  He saw the short sword by his bed he kept for protection against them, and picked it up. Theodosius stood and pointed it at his reflection. Soft steps from the hall and hushed voices echoed in the silence. He swung his stance to the door to meet whoever came through, and he waited.

  Nothing. Yet he waited still.

  The only noise was that gentle lapping.

  Theodosius's fighting stance fell. He looked at the mirror again and said, words dripping with derision, "God King." Then he sprinted for the window and leapt without hesitation.

  The wind of his fall from high up in the seaside Great Hall twisted his face and nearly caused his eyes to shut. He turned his head to see the sword still in his hand and he smiled. The one true thing–

  The thought was left unfinished as he crashed into the icy waters below. Winter had passed, but the Philip Sea had not yet relinquished the season. Theodosius did not care.

  He floated on his back with his eyes closed, completely relaxed. The sword remained in his hand without effort. It was simply an extension of him. A soft, peaceful smile curled across his face.

  The warm yellow light of a lantern shown through his eyelids.

  "That you?"

  He opened his eyes to see a toothless, gray-haired man staring down at him from a small wooden rowboat. "Of course. Who else would I be?" Theodosius flashed his teeth in mockery. The man shrugged indifferently at the question and reached out a hand to help the former God King into the boat.

  The old man rowed them through the placid night waters under the white glow of the partial moon. Theodosius retrieved a blanket from the bottom and wrapped himself in it, that faint smile never left his lips.

  They reached the ship, hidden in a dark alcove from the unsuspecting city of Calor. The old man caught the rope thrown by the ship's crew, secured the small boat and motioned for Theodosius to climb the ladder that was also thrown.

  Theodosius remained seated.

  "Go ahead." the man said, not firmly, just as if he thought his passenger had not understood.

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  "After you." Theodosius flashed his teeth again.

  The old man shrugged and climbed the ladder. He scaled it with ease even as it shook and turned from the motion of the vessels.

  Theodosius began to climb. He was not a weak or physically awkward man, yet the unfamiliar motion gave him pause after every few rungs he scaled. At the top, he swung himself over the ship's rail with more effort than it appeared. He stood on the deck before a crowd of forty men and stretched his arms out beside him with the sword lazily balanced in his right hand.

  A tall brutish man with a long red coat, big black hat and thick graying beard shoved through the crowd. He limped severely, a quality that seemed only to enhance his ferociousness. The man came within inches of Theodosius's face. The rotten smell of cheap eastern rum replaced the sweet smell of the sea and the crisp night air.

  Theodosius twisted his mouth into a smile too wide to be nice or genuine. The man in the red coat looked at him suspiciously. "This is your last chance. Turn back now if you'll ever think to. There will be no lofty titles for you aboard my ship. Only work and fighting and pain until death." He leaned back and addressed the crew. "Such is the price of freedom!"

  The crew gave a solid cheer to the words. Theodosius cheered with them, a little too loud. The crew raised their voices to match him. The captain eyed the odd newcomer with even more suspicion.

  Theodosius sunk the short sword into the captain's stomach. The crew did not see it at first, but as their captain took a few mystified steps backward, their cheers died. The captain ran at Theodosius. Blood gushed from the gaping wounds in his belly and back. Theodosius sidestepped the clumsy charge and tripped the captain over the railing. His lifeless body crashed into the small rowboat.

  The crew were frozen in astonishment. Theodosius peeked over the railing to see the captain disappear into the dark waters. The small boat had tipped and was sinking as well. He turned back to the crew.

  "Alright! Where is the loyal dog? Where is the one who disapproves? Who among you looks to avenge your captain? Is it you?" Theodosius took a wild swing at no one in particular. "No? Come now there must be one! There's always one."

  Theodosius paced in front of the crew. Each man averted his eyes as Theodosius came near. He walked through the men and they parted for him. The ship's sail snapped in the wind and the ship lurched. Theodosius stumbled at the motion and nearly fell.

  He straightened up and found himself eye to eye with a dark, bald Moorish man. Theodousius tucked his sword under his arm and straightened the collar of the man's coat. He smiled and patted him on the shoulders, admiring the outfit. "A fine coat, sir. Where might I find one of my very own?"

  "I got it long ago in Oram. Went to one of their festivals." The Moor's voice was high pitched and almost silly for a man with his masculine appearance.

  "Oram! Well," Theodosius turned from the man and began to pace the deck again, meandering through the crew, hands behind his back and eyes on the floor as he spoke, "as it happens I have heard tales of a great migration from the city. Many former nobles lucky enough to survive the pillaging scourge of this past autumn have chosen to sail for The Bryer. Perhaps one of their ships has a coat just like this one?"

  "It's possible."

  "Then, men, if you'd be so kind, let us go find out!"

  The crew erupted in cheers, louder than before, and scattered each to their post without hesitation. They pulled and heaved the massive ropes, raised the anchor and the ship was off, cutting silently through the night. Theodosius stood at the rear of the elevated quarter deck and watched Calor, his crown jewel turned unbearable prison, grow smaller and smaller. Theodosius turned as the last lights of Calor slipped from view.

  One man stood on the opposite side of the deck. His eyes were fixed on the new captain. Theodosius looked back at the man, mirroring the intense, unforgiving gaze with one of his own. Theodosius smiled and raised the sword, still stained red in parts. He wiped his finger over the blood and kicked it.

  Theodosius laughed.