Corvin stood on the king’s pond outside the throne room. He wasn’t standing in it or near it, he was standing on it.

The fish moved under the translucent ice below his feet. One would wrongly assume that with no proper snowshoes or grip boots, that Corvin would slip on the ice. But alas, he walked upon ice as if on any other surface. The blizzard around him thickened, the wind whistled so fast that he couldn’t hear anything else except his brain.

He had found out about his ability to control ice when he had been thrown into a river by an elder hero, as an apparent punishment for being annoying. He had hit the ice hard instead of landing in the water. He had later found the man who threw him into the river and punched him with ice around his fist, then threw him into the river.

But that was only his earliest memory. He remembered that he learned to slide a boat down the river at top speed. One of those days was the day he met Zaya. She joined him in riding down the river in the old boat many times.

They later got married.

Then they argued. They argued a lot. They argued about many things. They argued about Zaya being infertile, about Corvin’s anger management. They argued about him joining the Iron Legion.

Then, the storm of conflict seemingly passed, and everything went back to how it was. At least, that was what Corvin felt. But unfortunately, he was only in the eye of the storm, because one day she left, and didn’t come back.

Technically, she didn’t divorce him. A spouse had the option to leave immediately, and in doing so, would forfeit shared finance, custody if there was a child, and property. She gave up all of it just to leave without a warning.

And now she was dead.

The ice cracked underneath his feet, causing the fish underneath to swim away. The fish were rare and probably exotic species. Which was funny, because Corvin had eaten fish like these at a guild convention.

Oberion stood at the front, he had a stern grin on his face. Maybe Leand hooked him up with something. Oberion just stared at Corvin, not with disappointment or anger, but with amusement.

That just made Corvin angrier. He wanted to hurl a frost blast at Oberion, but killing the king’s general was something that the king probably wouldn’t let him off the hook for.

Still, It would be satisfying to turn Oberion into a living statue, and he realized that he didn’t really care about what he did to the king. In fact, him being at the pond would have already resulted in his execution if he were a peasant. And Oberion knew that damn well.

So why did you have that shit-eating grin then? He wondered.

He noticed the fish below him had stopped moving completely. He stepped off the ice.

He took a deep breath and looked back at where Oberion had been standing. He curled his fists in anger. He was no longer there.

Everything is the fucking same. The quests, the monsters… He thought.

Corvin had tried. He really had. But it seemed the more he tried to push, the more life pushed back against him.

Zaya had not meant anything to him. He had only married her because he saw other people do it. He was a god. A god doomed to observe and envy people below him.

“Hello.”

A man appeared on the ice. He was a good fifteen feet away from Corvin. He squinted, trying to identify the man through the clouds of snow.

“Who are you?” He asked. Corvin didn’t feel threatened by the man, he was simply curious as to why he was outside in such temperatures.

“I am the new tactician for the King, Hero Corvin.”

The thought hit him: It was Oberion’s last day as the general.

He was retiring.

The thought of Oberion retiring brought his anger back. Oberion had worked for a fucking socialist regime and was going to retire happily ever after. Meanwhile Corvin was still looking for a permanent job, and he had no family. He was at square fucking one, and with nothing to show for it.

But it didn’t matter if his lifespan was septuple Oberions. It didn’t matter that Corvin was far stronger than Oberion could comprehend. It didn’t matter that if Corvin really wanted to, he could wipe the city off its foundation. But the people’s lives now just seemed so trivial, he just really didn’t care.

“I-” Corvin paused, taking a moment to look down at his name tag, which was faded and in tiny print. How the man had been able to read it from a dozen feet away puzzled him.

“I just wanted to say hi.” The man stuck out his hand, as if he was going to shake with Corvin. When Corvin didn’t respond, his hand slumped back down.

“Is it not a good time? I can come back later.” The man responded.

Corvin said nothing.

“My name is Pas.” The man said. He tossed a card to Corvin, who caught it dexterously.

Pas A. Eruoy, King's Advisor. It read.

“I actually need your help with something. I need you to allow me in the castle for the audit, please.” The man requested.

“Just tell them Corvin let you.” Corvin answered. “You have a long-ass name by the way.”

Pas smiled. “You can just call me ‘P’.” He walked away. Corvin watched the man fade into the whiteness of the snow. He looked down at the card again before shoving it into his robe pocket.

Corvin strolled over to the castle entrance where two guards stood. Up until them it had been that he kept his emotions as cool as his frost, but motivation was slipping away. The guards crossed their spears in defense.

At the sight of this, Corvin lost his temper.

“Fuck out of my damn way!” He shouted.

The guards immediately snapped back to their original positions. Corvin marched between them. As he walked down the hall, he saw a man in a robe who had his hands clasped.

“Hello Hero Corvin, am Glodasc. I have been looking for you for quite some time.” The man bowed.

Corvin scoffed, but he didn’t turn his back to the man. He felt somewhat intrigued, maybe due to his rather uneventful day, or perhaps he simply wanted to get it over with. Like he did with anything else he had not a care for.

Like Zaya did.

Zaya is dead to me. He thought.

So was she to everyone else. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t dead to him.

“Anyways, I am trained in the arts of spirit finding, and I have sensed that the spirits of two Aldarians have perished. One at noon, and one just a few minutes ago.”

Corvin shrugged. “So?”

The man appeared disappointed that Corvin didn’t give the slightest bit of interest. “Well, it could be that the two Aldarians sent a few days ago perished.”

Corvin now paid attention. “You’re telling me that powder-snorting clown and the emo bitch got killed this evening?” He asked dramatically.

The man sighed. “You’re faking it, aren’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, you’re damn right! Stop wasting my time!” Corvin replied.

The man bit his upper lip. “You seem frustrated, something bothering you, Corvin?”

Corvin grinded his teeth. The man had removed his honorific. A man he had only met seconds ago. What a world.

“I can sense emotions, you know. And I cannot lie about one's feelings. Do you feel a sense of frustration with life?”

Corvin looked down and chuckled. Be it then.

“You cannot lie, eh? Tell me, are you afraid?”

The man’s artificial smile faltered. “O-of what, I may ask?”

“What you fear most, of course!” Corvin gave a forceful grin to the man, like a monkey about maul.

“I-I am.” The Glodasc said. Then he began to try and move past Corvin. Corvin moved in his way. Glodasc swished his tongue and broke eye contact.

“Of what, I might ask?” Corvin mocked.

The man bit his upper lip again, this time until an abrasion formed.

“Of you.” He spat. “Everyone else is as well.”

The few people walking in the halls slowed noticeably to see the fuss, but sped up immediately as Corvin glanced in their direction.

“Good day to you sir Corvin.” Glodasc murmured. Then he left.

Corvin smiled to himself. Even though he had gotten nothing of use out of the man, he at least felt somewhat relieved that people were at least aware of who was really in charge, despite whatever Oberion told them.

Just a few more days. He thought. Then I'm out of this shithole!