《The Inheritance of the Conqueror of Spacetime》


 Chapter 0

    Ages and ages past, in the era beyond antiquity where god and man walked hand in hand, the gods¡¯ connection to the material was forever severed. The impetus was not the folly of their children, but of the gods themselves. They embroiled themselves in conflict, and war plagued the lands. Humanity had no power to overturn the flames of battle. Even with their greatest weapons, the skin of a god would forever remain unblemished. Their mortal thaumaturgy could never match the genuine miracles born of even just their divine breath. Humanity could do nothing but remain beholden to the will of the heavens. All but one.


    Even in such a hopeless era, humanity still had a champion. A girl beloved by the gods, whose power granted dominion over everything under heaven. A lone girl with the power to match divinity. The remnants of society banded together beneath one flag: her flag. She was their hope and their dream. In her was a star that outshone even the gods. But she could not save them. Her appearance on the battlefield was the greatest rallying cry, yet still their strength failed them. Her words would cast out all darkness, yet still despair took root.


    Those gods whose breasts swelled with righteousness had always sworn to protect humanity and thus found them allied. But still it was humanity who suffered. Only humanity. In duels between gods, it was only humans who died. The winner continued to fight while the loser¡¯s coil fizzled away and tainted as their essence forever returned to heaven. And at the site of these clashes, the ground became little more than a crater, forever rendered profane. But still humanity fought. They fought until their home was limited to just one spire, made limitless by the will of the girl.


    ¡°Lady Cenit! I implore you to retreat into the tower and leave the fighting to us!¡± An aged man in shining gold plate pleads with a girl hardly sixteen years in age.


    She wears only a loose white dress as she stands at the raised edge of the tower, staring blankly out at the approaching battle between winged and robed figures far to the west. Against the backdrop of hell that composes the world, her ethereal beauty stands out all the more. She has long, pale silver blue hair, stretching nearly to the ground. Her skin is pale, almost as though it were translucent, even in spite of the hours upon hours she has worked in the sun. Her bright blue eyes are ringed with gold and look directly at your soul. She smiles radiantly at the man.


    ¡°Even if I were to die, the spire would remain untouched.¡±


    ¡°My Lady! It is not that simple! Humanity cannot lose you. You are our sun.¡±


    ¡°No. Even if I die, humanity will live on. And I will die long before the gods, immortal and ageless as they are.¡± She giggles softly and silently.


    ¡°My Lady! This is no laughing matter!¡± As he begins to chide her, Cenit points at her eye.


    ¡°I¡¯m not joking. I¡¯m sure of it.¡± The knight is silent. Cenit¡¯s eyes are themself heavenly treasures. A gift to mortals to perceive reality exactly as it is: the Divine Boon of Truesight.


    It is said that the world as she sees it is the world as the gods see it and the world as they desired it. Coupled with her supremacy over time, she can see the truth of the future. Whether the world as it is or the world as it will be, her conception of it must be true. And this truth is absolute. Regardless of how she opposed the sullen fates she foresaw, those corrupted graveyards would always come to pass. The knight is lost in how to address Cenit.


    ¡°My Lady¡­¡± Cenit hops off the edge of the tower and approaches the knight, looking up to meet his gaze.


    ¡°Sir Ausus, I truly believe you should stop worrying about the future.¡±


    ¡°Lady Cenit, do you truly speak the truth? Will humanity truly find salvation one day? I beg you not to lie for my sake.¡±


    ¡°Sir Ausus, have I ever been deceitful with my vision? Even if it comes far after our deaths, far after even our children and grandchildren, I promise that we will one day live with joy once more.¡± Ausus falls to his knees, nearly prostrate at Cenit¡¯s feet. He looks as though he may begin to loudly weep at any moment.


    ¡°O Lord Creogeno! O Lady Gignoterra! O Lady Prodovita! Although you have already departed from this world and returned to your rightful throne atop the Heavens, you have not forsaken us, your lowly children! I thank you for your boundless love!¡±


    Ausus¡¯ heartfelt prayer was cut short by a loud booming to the west. As the pair look to the battle, they find the landscape forever altered. The peak of the mountain that once proudly rose towards the sky has been dismembered. Small craters pepper the forests and the fields, disfiguring them with the scars of battle. Worse yet, privy only to Cenit, the victor had been decided. His body turning to unholy dust carried on the wind, the winged figure, the celestial warrior fighting to protect them, falls from the sky. Cenit calmly turns to Ausus.


    ¡°Return to the spire. Now.¡± Ausus looks confused as he rises to his feet, worry crossing his face.


    ¡°My Lady, why the urgency? Is it the conclusion of that battle? What have you foreseen? From what are you protecting me?¡± Cenit is panicked and desperate.


    ¡°Ausus, don¡¯t ask questions, just leave!¡±


    ¡°Lady Cenit, if there is a battle to come, I cannot abandon you. Even if in doing so my life becomes forfeit, I have sworn to never again let you fight alone.¡± Cenit continues to plead.


    ¡°Ausus, please¡­¡±


    ¡°It is the job of adults to take care of children. I cannot allow you to bear our burden on your lonesome.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you everything, so please, just leave.¡±


    ¡°Lady Cenit, I truly cannot.¡±


    ¡°Ausus¡­¡± The knight can deny her no longer, and listens to her with a steeled heart.


    ¡°For as long as my powers have been awakened, I could see this day. Of all my visions, it is the only one that has ever been altered, but the result is always the same. Ausus, I do not foresee your death today. The death I foresee is only my own.¡±


    Cenit is on the brink of tears as she relays her fate. Suddenly, she feels a pressure against her body, fully surrounding her. Ausus pulls her into a tight embrace, cradling her body against his hard armor. He gently pats her head as tears drip from her eyes.


    ¡°Lady Cenit, we have failed you.¡± He shifts his hands to grasp her shoulder tenderly. He makes distance between them as he looks straight at her. He continues solemnly as he comforts the girl.


    ¡°Please¡­ I beg of you, please abandon us. Leave this era behind and flee to a peaceful one.¡± Cenit looks shocked at the command.


    ¡°No, I¡­ I can¡¯t, I¡­ I¡­ I¡­ How could I¡­ I¡­ Very well.¡± Cenit recomposes herself quickly.


    Cenit steps away from Ausus. She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. She stands there, perfectly still, nothing at all changing. Just as Ausus prepares to speak, a mote of pale blue light is released from her body. Soon, a swarm of motes enshroud Cenit¡¯s body. The swarm spirals about her, creating an ever-morphing wall of light. At her every exhale, the swarm pulses outward, receding as she inhales. In this way, the orbit of the swarm slowly grows. As the motes move away from her body, they spread and separate, creating gaps. Within the eye of the storm, Cenit glows brightly. Instinctively, Ausus begins to reach out his hand towards her, grabbing his arm when he realizes. The motes begin to rise, dancing in the sky. One by one, they dissipate, taking with them Cenit¡¯s strange luster. As the final mote fades, Cenit stumbles and falls to the ground. Ausus rushes to her side. Before he can reach her, however, she begins to look around frantically.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°Ausus? Ausus, where are you?!¡± Ausus slowly places his hand on her shoulder, careful not to hurt her or shock her. Her eyes have softened tremendously, now pale and cloudy, and with the golden rings no longer marking them.


    ¡°Lady Cenit, I am here. What happened? Why are you still here?¡±


    ¡°I split off my blessing and sent forward only what was essential.¡± Ausus quickly pieces together what she had done.


    ¡°Lady Cenit! How could you?! Why did you not flee?! Now you have lost even that option! You can only die now, Lady Cenit. Why would you stay?¡± Cenit begins to cry once more.


    ¡°Ausus¡­ Is it wrong that I feel so happy? For the first time, my mind is not plagued with visions of death. Not mine and not anyone else¡¯s. I¡¯ve never felt so free¡­¡± Ausus loses his will to fight her choice and stands by in silence.


    Bursts of flame and incandescent light appear behind Cenit without warning. The mass of fire slides backwards, away from her. It begins to shake vigorously as it puts out the fire engulfing its body. As the fire exhausts, the form of the interloper becomes clear. He is a frightening and sickly pale man wearing a dark robe. His hooded face appears gaunt beneath the layer of shadow. However, his voice is powerful and clear, reverberating around the open space as he begins to introduce himself.


    ¡°Foolish mortal, you dare attack a god? I am one of the strongest servants of the God of Famine. It is in his name that I end your futile struggle. Now di¡ª¡±


    Cenit has turned on the ground to face towards the voice. Her arm is raised, and hovering above it is a lance. The lance is formed as an amalgamation of fire and ice. The tip is aimed straight ahead, towards the celestial. Without missing a beat, Cenit lets loose the lance.


    It makes contact with the man¡¯s cloaked stomach before he could even process the sudden appearance of the lance. The robe is punctured, but the lance is stopped on the impenetrable skin of the heavenly servant. Now pressed against his stomach, the lance begins to twist and spin. Soon the man can feel his skin shifting around the spinning tip of the lance. He now attempts to push away the lance drilling into his body. As he lays his hands on the lance, the two sides of his body come into conflict. On the left, he can feel chills that should still be unknown to mortals. Immediately, his fingers freeze over and begin to crack. Numbness spreads up through the arm and into the chest, the ice biting into his skin slowly trailing behind. On the right, he can feel burns akin to the punishments of the God of Justice. His arm discolors like smoke and ash as the skin dries and begins to peel and fall away. He loses his grasp on the pain as the flame snakes up his arm. The two opposed sensations meet at his center, leaving his mind jumbled and slow. The man throws back his arms as they begin to regenerate. All the while, at the point where hot and cold meet, the lance continues to turn. The servant, now fearful, can feel the impossible mix of fire and ice seep into his body. The body of a god, immaculate in both conception and substance, was now having a hole bored into it. He tries desperately to grasp at the lance once more, but finds that his hands can follow his orders no more. He can summon no strength in the face of a mere mortal. He feels his skin and muscle torn apart as the lance disappears from sight. His stomach is gored, a gaping hole left behind. The shimmering gold of ichor pours out from the hole. He begins to cough up even more ichor, splattering it over his burnt hand and arm. The ichor sizzles where it meets skin, turning to vapor and leaving the burns healed, only for the fire to envelop him once more.


    The god¡¯s body begins to unravel. His arms, disfigured, break apart and begin to disperse as wisps of gold. From within the opening in his stomach, gold wisps pour out alongside ichor. The body of the god grows translucent as the whole of his being leaves it. The pupil vanishes from within the iris, which soon follows after. Finally, the god pops. A small cluster of wisps burst out from within the body of the god, leaving no trace save for the puddle of ichor on the ground. The god has been unmade, never again to trespass on the world of man.


    In the wake of his death, a chorus of trumpets blare in alarm. The noise is certainly loud, offensive to both Cenit and Ausus, both of whom had never heard it so nearby. However, it is also certainly not loud enough. The noise is not carried far beyond the spire. Despite this, those who are intended to hear the trumpets always do.


    Within a second of the trumpets¡¯ call ending, a man and a woman appear before Cenit and Ausus. The man is bald and topless, exposing a grotesque maw in his stomach grinning wildly. The woman is wearing the same robe as the deceased god, although unhooded, revealing bright golden eyes set in deep purple sclera and silver hair streaked with rich blues.


    Suddenly, the woman¡¯s skin is ripped apart, seemingly from the inside. As the ichor begins to drip out of the lacerations and sew back together the skin and flesh, she feels something moving within her. From within her abdomen, a small tree sprouts, penetrating outwards from her side in search of the sun. The roots are bathed in ichor and the tree begins to swell in size, quickly reaching maturity. The tree now towers over her and has begun to stretch her body apart. The roots now also protrude out from her stomach. She begins to wince in pain at her body being pushed apart from within. The tree has not stopped feasting on her ichor, however. It continues to grow far beyond the bounds of normality. Its trunk is wider than any other. Its branches reach out further than any other. Its foliage comes closer to the heavens than any other. As the tree continues to soak inside of her, sapping away both ichor and life energy, its leaves change to match the golden hue of the ichor. Color drains from the goddess¡¯ face as the small strip of skin connecting her top and bottom grows thinner. She too fades away, becoming nothing more than wisps on the wind. The tree withers up and dies, falling to the ground when it is left behind. The gnarled tree still oozes and secretes a golden nectar, even after its death.


    The third god charges at Cenit. Cenit waves a hand and a current of water as high as his knees pushes back against him. Although he slows from the current, he still moves far faster than any human soldiers could ever hope. As he wades through the artificial rapids, the water drains. In only a few moments, the water has vanished and his speed has returned. In a heartbeat, he draws closer to Cenit. Along his way, a stone wall over 6 meters thick appears, covering the span of the spire. He throws a punch in the direction of the wall, crushing the stone and forming deep cracks. As he approaches the wall, he turns his torso and slams his shoulder into the wall. As he breaches the defense, he is struck by lightning. Blasts of electricity rain down from the sky and slam into his body. The current spreads quickly throughout his body. Yet even, with the lightning, he is unceasing, and continues to walk. With every flash of light, he takes a step, unhindered. Soon, still hardly wounded, he is nearly within striking distance of Cenit. Cenit points forward at him and he catches fire. He is soon fully engulfed in flame. And he is soon rid of it. As the fire disappears, the mouth on his stomach licks its lips. Cenit grows ice around his ankles, enveloping his feet, only for him to walk through it. The god cannot be stopped.


    He reaches Cenit and grabs her by the throat, lifting her above him.


    ¡°Little human, I must applaud your strength to have dispatched those two so swiftly. However, you are still little more than a crying babe to me. I am Gulo, God of Gluttony and Overindulgence and general of Lord Famefessus¡¯ armies. Be honored to meet your end at the hand of the divine!¡±


    Gulo reaches his free hand into his stomach, grabbing the upper jaw. He pulls upwards, stretching the mouth across the rest of his torso. Soon the mouth has become even more grotesque, its jagged fangs jutting out all across his chest. The mouth begins to salivate as Gulo tilts backwards and holds Cenit even higher above him.


    He feels something akin to a falling feather strike his side. Ausus stands before him, pressing his sword against the god¡¯s side. The sword smacks against Gulo ineffectually, as though it were made of foam rather than steel. Gulo laughs mockingly at Ausus as he throws Ausus away. Ausus goes flying, slamming against the ground multiple times before skidding painfully across it. Ausus can feel the bones broken throughout his body as he tries to force himself upright. He falls back painfully to the ground, and he lays there, staring up at Cenit with blurry vision.


    In Cenit¡¯s hand, a blue ball of light has gathered. Cenit wreaths her arm in the light, creating a nearly transparent film. She weakly raises her arm in defiance of Gulo. A ripple goes through the film as it becomes coated in gold. As the ripple reaches her palm, the film coalesces once more and fires off as a blue-gold beam. Cenit drags the beam across Gulo¡¯s face and over his eye. Gulo reels back in pain, covering his eye. The pain then transforms, feeling as though his body was searing itself beneath his skin. He quickly covers his eye and drops Cenit, all the while screaming in pain. As Cenit falls on the ground, gasping for air, Gulo begins to yell.


    ¡°Girl! What have you done?! How have you injured my true form?! No¡­¡± He turns to the sky. ¡°You bastards sitting atop your heavenly thrones! Why have you aided this pathetic little pest?!¡±


    Gulo raises his fist. Cenit looks up at him, the flame of resistance still burning brightly. As Gulo brings down his arm, it first immolates, burning with white-hot flames. It then freezes over, flame and all. It then cuts open. It then grows vines all throughout its length. It then has ichor overflow and begins to burst. It then has jagged stones appear within. It then runs an electric current through itself. And then it all comes to an end. Ausus sees Gulo begin his attack, but feels his mind and body give out. As he falls unconscious, the last thing he sees is Cenit, fallen on the ground.


    Ausus awakes with a start and looks around the roof with urgency. He was left with only more questions. The signs of battle have nearly disappeared entirely, as though it never happened. The only remains of the battle is a scuffed section of ground, stained in blood.


    Ausus weeps.


    And so, the wheel of fate continued to turn, uninterrupted. At that moment, the change was still so slight it was well within the margin of error. And so, the civilizations of man rose and fell, era after era. With each disaster there was salvation. With each end things began anew. Again and again. Until finally, in a tiny village on the outskirts of an insignificant kingdom, a boy with golden rings marking his eyes was born.

 Chapter 1

    The sky is clear, unsullied by any clouds. The sun rises above the verdure of the forest, coating the land in its light once more. As the sun hits the earth, the people of a tiny village built against the edge of the forest begin to wake from their slumber. They walk through the grass, still wet from the rains of the past week, hurrying to their destination. The villagers all crowd into one building, the second largest house of the village, second only to the home of the long-standing protector that is the Elder.


    The crowd of villagers enter unimpeded, greeted with the sight of the five people most beloved. The Elder, old and gray, stands a ways away, clutching his cane with a strength unbefitting his age and frame. He stands stoically, watching over the remaining four. Pressing his palm to his forehead and raising his chin in a mixture of exhaustion and relief is Father Cynde, the village priest. His black robes appear even heavier on his body than typical. Beside him, looking on in glee, is Cynde¡¯s protege, Sister Fayre, a local girl and a ray of sunshine given form to the people of the village. She has only just been able to lower her steely expression, and her joy has already overflowed, tears streaking down her face. All three have their bodies pointed at the remaining pair, the focus of all the villagers¡¯ attention. The first of the two is a tall and lanky man, kneeling down and supporting the other in his arms. He has short dark hair and darker eyes with haunting white rings within. Although he cannot help but to cry, his countenance reveals nothing. His eyes are blank and fathomless, like a dark abyss, and his mouth is drawn tightly. He is Tima, the wisest among the villagers. He was a traveler who appeared before them one day. His journey was aimless and his resources lacking. He sought supplies and a short refuge from the village. He was swiftly denied, for the village had little to give. However, one girl advocated on his behalf, asking the villagers to give to him now and allow him to repay them in due time. For several years he has been repaying her kindness, although the debt has long since been repaid. He holds up her head as she lay weakly in bed. She has light brown hair that stretches down to the bed. Her eyes are light hazel, worn out and tired. She is Stearra, the one most devoted to the village. She was born to two ordinary farmers, only to become orphaned as a child after a stray monster appeared in the village. Ever since that day, the entire village devoted themselves to her, and she has devoted herself to them and to the world. She has wholly devoted herself to the improvement of the village. So long as she lives, there will never be a want for food, nor water, nor clothes, nor homes. Never again will they fear the forest. Never again will they despair in hunger. Until the day of her death, she will forever remain unremitting in her destruction of that which hurts her people.


    Cradled in her arms is an infant, crying loudly in its vagitus. The newborn has his father¡¯s dark hair. Behind Tima¡¯s stony expression is boundless joy, yet smothered deep within his joy is a fear and disdain towards the similarity. Tima is a Void Walker, a nomadic people cursed to forever roam the wastes they call home, scorned by all others. Tima had himself found a path to absolution for this cursed duty, but still could not escape the curse itself. His hair and his eyes were the proof of his curse. However, much to his relief, his son inherited only the color of his hair. His eyes were not a wretched marker, but an auspicious one. Rather than the inky pits of his father, the newborn has eyes of pure celeste, feeling as boundless as the sky itself. Around the pupil are shimmering gold rings that seem to pulsate with a divine power. Already in the tiny body of this child, there is a great power being fostered.


    The crowding villagers look at the child held in Stearra¡¯s arms with great excitement. His cries soon come to a momentary lapse as Stearra rocks him. In their excitement, the villagers begin talking over each other, each trying to be the first to ask the questions they all want to.


    ¡°Miss Stearra, was the birth fine?¡±


    ¡°How is he? Is everything fine?¡±


    ¡°Should we start celebrating?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s his name?¡± As the questions keep coming from the energetic group, Stearra smiles gently. Cradling the child close to her chest and wrapping her arm around him, she raises a finger to her lips to quiet the crowd. She speaks softly as she responds.


    ¡°We¡¯re all fine, and if we have to celebrate, it should be after we¡¯ve finished the work for today.¡± She shifts her arms around to point the newborn towards the villagers. ¡°His name is Sion.¡±


    Ten years have passed since Sion¡¯s birth. After him, three more children were born that year. In his year of four boys, Sion is the oldest and notably larger than the others. The three that followed were all ordinary births to farmer families, yet the celebrations barely paled in comparison to Sion. Their names were Bule, Wesend, and Oure. In keeping with the teachings of his parents, Sion always looked after the three. Although he also helped look after all the children born after him, he gave them special attention. He cared for them greatly, and the four were inseparable. Although Sion never disobeyed the adults of the village alone, he was often swept along with the others in committing mischief or attempting entrance into the forest. Even when he had done nothing, he would let himself be scolded alongside them. Sion did not want to let his friends be unhappy, and did not want to leave them behind. He wanted to stand by their side.


    Soon after the fall harvest concluded, a grand celebration was held. At this point, all four of them had reached ten years of age. At the climax of the festival, Father Cynde called the four children to a small stage. Gathered around the stage were their parents and several other adults, as well as all the children their junior. Cynde asked them to sit facing him in the order of their birth atop a soft blanket laid out on the stage. Excitedly, the four sat before the priest.


    As Cynde begins to give his speech, his warm face grows sterner. He speaks slowly and in a confident and measured tone.


    ¡°The hero Gax was once delivered unto humanity in our most dire hour. His soul, ever devoted to good, ascended and joined the gods among the heavens. His love for us remains unchanged. His mission towards us remains unchanged. His heavenly duty is the same as his earthly duty, and it is through me that he performs it today.¡± Wesend begins to fidget in anticipation, his disposition spreading to Bule and Oure beside him. In their excitement, they begin to grow rowdy. As Sion attempts to stop them, Cynde¡¯s voice comes down on them, mixed again with a hint of warmth. ¡°Bule, Wesend, Oure. I know this is exciting, but please remain still for just a while longer.¡± When the trio calm down slightly, Cynde continues. ¡°In today¡¯s Rite of Bestowal, Gax, Heroic God of Pathfinding, shall peer into the souls of our four youths: Sion, Bule, Wesend, and Oure. He shall measure your virtue and your skill, your character and your body; he shall measure the whole of your person. And your minds shall be touched by his divine grace, a plenitude of possible choices laid bare before you. The rite shall conclude as you make your choice and accept the heavenly gift of your Class. As I call your name, step forward. Oure!¡± Oure excitedly stands, stepping forward as he does. Cynde places his hand atop Oure¡¯s head and grips at the symbol of priesthood adorning his necklace with the other while Oure shuts his eyes. After several seconds, Cynde removes his hand and proudly proclaims Oure¡¯s Class.


    ¡°Oure! From today onward you shall be known as a ¡®Brawler!¡¯ You have always loved getting your body moving.¡± Cynde pats Oure¡¯s head before sending him to return to the blanket.


    This process repeats twice more for Wesend and Bule, who were granted the Classes ¡®Swordsman¡¯ and ¡®Spearman.¡¯ Bule, Wesend, and Oure sit on the blanket, watching Sion. Sion stands gracefully as he is called, and walks to Father Cynde. Cynde again begins the rite.


    As Cynde places his hand on Sion¡¯s head, he senses something unknowable and impenetrably deep inside the child. The Rite of Bestowal is a process where a priest, priestess, or other individual with a connection to the heavens utilizes their body as a conduit for the divine power of Gax. As they perform the rite, a small amount of Gax¡¯s limitless energy flows into the conduit and is then used as a medium for a miracle. The greater the strength of the receiver, the stronger the miracle must be, and more energy must flow to allow for that. Experienced priests who have performed the rite many times throughout their life can sense the slight variation in energy within their body and are able to gain an estimate of the receiver¡¯s strength. Cynde has never before felt such a surge of holy power. The energy gathered in his body is so densely packed that it feels as though it may burst outward and destroy him. Yet the overflowing energy is also warm and comforting, giving a sense of reassurance. After an anomalously long period of gathering energy, yet still only a few seconds, the miracle occurs.


    As Sion closes his eyes, he can feel the world shift and expand by Gax¡¯s power. Although his body has not moved and nothing has changed, Sion¡¯s soul and sight has been brought deep into the core of itself. He looks around at the neverending walls of black, searching for the Classes Gax found to suit him. Sion finds nothing and begins to panic. As he turns his head rapidly around the space, Sion¡¯s eyes flicker with gold. Suddenly, a single word appears in front of him in the dark. It reads ¡®Inheritor.¡¯ As Sion reads the word, he opens his eyes and returns to the material world. Sion looks up at Father Cynde, awaiting the declaration of his Class. However, Cynde looks aghast. He never moves his hand and fails to find words to say. As he stutters, he glances down at Sion¡¯s confused face. Cynde drops to one knee and grabs Sion tightly.


    ¡°Sion¡­ I don¡¯t know what this means. I¡¯ve never seen someone not receive a class. I¡¯ve never even read of it. I need to leave urgently and consult with the Bishop of Clea. But remember, this does not make you unworthy. You are still yourself. You are still kind and caring. Even without a class to show it.¡±


    Father Cynde dashes away without saying another word. He leaves with due urgency, moving to borrow a fast horse without preparing anything for his travels or his time in Clea, however brief they may be. He leaves Sion and the three boys alone on the stage. He leaves the crowd in shock and confusion.


    The four boys are confused by what has occurred but are seemingly unbothered. The three who still are seated have begun talking amongst themselves excitedly. Sion does not return to his spot on the blanket, but instead sits on the wood of the stage, facing the audience, to join the conversation. As he sits, Bule is speaking.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go find something then! Then we can show off our Classes!¡± The three seem to have planned to play with their newfound gifts. As they look at Sion, Oure begins to talk with the utmost innocence.


    ¡°Sion, you can¡¯t come because you don¡¯t have a class!¡± Sion bristles without understanding as his three friends stand without him. From both indignance and despair, tears well up in Sion¡¯s eyes. Before he even realizes, he is running. Without direction, he runs straight ahead, away from the crowd. It takes several moments for them to process what had occurred and begin panicking.


    Tima is the first to act. He begins to bound forward, intending to cut past the rest of the group. He had stood near to the stage, but on the side Sion had sat on, the opposite side to the one he fled from. As he maneuvers around the stage, attempting not to alarm the other children, his flight is cut short. The mass of onlooking adults spill outward, still lost in what to do, preventing Tima from rounding the stage.


    ¡°Calm down and let me pass!¡± Tima¡¯s face is a scowl as he attempts to command the others.


    Meanwhile, Sion had made great distance between himself and the stage. The direction he fled in was the direction of the fields and of the forest, so there weren¡¯t any people to stop him. Sion, without knowing why, continues to run with all his might. Although he was still small, he had inherited his father¡¯s powerful body. He was many times faster than his peers. Although he had never shown his full ability, he could outrun even some adults. The adults had wildly misunderstood the urgency of his escape.


    Sion soon nears the fence built to keep stray monsters from the forest out. It runs against the edge of the forest, but the only dangers lurk deep within. The fence was mostly built for peace of mind, not a truly imminent threat, so there are only daily checks on its status every morning and every night. Unbeknownst to anyone, a section of the fence had decayed and fallen apart. Sion leaps at this broken section, barely clearing its height. As Sion flees into the forest, Tima finally reaches the fence. He leaps onto the broken fence and stares out into the forest and around the village. Incapable of seeing his son, he kicks the fence, splintering it. With a much more panicked urgency to him, Tima rushes back to the village to find the hunters in their revelry.


    The canopy of the trees is thick, blotting out much of the sunlight. The forest is dark and overgrown, and with few defining landmarks. Even for the hunters, it is dangerous if they lose their way. Yet Sion, who never once questioned why he could not enter the forest, continued walking. He did not know what to be afraid of, and so he had no fear. He walks on, carefully stepping over jutting roots and ducking beneath stray branches. As he walks and takes in the serenity of nature, Sion finds his heart begin to settle once more. He still does not understand why he had run. The wild energy that had possessed him to do so has already left his body, leaving him to wander. Sion turns around and begins to walk. As he walks, he begins to chastise himself, anticipating what the adults would soon say to him.


    ¡°Why did I run away? And I even went into the forest even though I know I¡¯m not supposed to. I don¡¯t understand. I don¡¯t understand anything. Will Dad be mad at me? ¡­But I¡¯m supposed to be the oldest.¡±


    As Sion walks, the night comes, and the dappled sunlight disappears. As the dusk settles in, the dark forest is overtaken by shadows. As Sion loses much of his sight, he becomes more aware than ever of the overflowing life of the forest. Surrounding him, just out of sight in the shadows, are beasts completely foreign to him. Sion misses the village. He misses his home. He misses his parents. He¡¯s never been separated from them for so long, especially not at this hour. For the first time in his life, Sion feels truly alone. He wants to rush home, but after walking so much, he feels an intense fatigue. By this time of night, he should already be settling in to sleep. And even if he had the energy and will to run once more with all his might, as the forest turns dark, Sion realizes that he is lost.


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    Sion moves frantically, searching for a hideaway tucked away from what lurks in the dark of the trees. By some great stroke of luck, he finds such a spot easily. In a nearby tree is a large hollow showing no signs of other creatures. The hollow is strange, being almost unnaturally uniform and pristine. However, Sion, being young and green, does not doubt his good fortune. He enters the hollow quickly, nestling himself within it. The hollow is just barely big enough to fit Sion entirely. He curls up, laying against the wall of the hollow, and closes his eyes.


    Sion awakes to the filtered sunlight shining down on his resting place. As his mind fights off the fog of drowsiness, he realizes something. His stomach rumbles fiercely. Sion has not eaten for nearly a day, and only now, after his reprieve, has it caught up to him. Sion shambles out of the hollow in his hunger and scans his surroundings. He still does not know where his home is.


    As Sion emerges from the hollow, he notices a mad yelping and whining nearby. The high-pitched cries are still soft, but Sion has been spurred to action. Carefully, Sion tries to find the direction of the noise and follow it. He moves nigh silently, skulking around the forest in search of the noise. He searches the underbrush diligently, scanning the ground obscured by the shrubs and bushes. He throws glances about the canopy, leaving no place unseen. The investigation distracts Sion from his stomach. So long as he continues to focus outward, he can ignore his own poor condition. In this way, Sion tracks down the noise.


    Hidden away among the myriad plants is a fox kit curled snugly beneath its large tail. It¡¯s large for a fox, around the same size as the adults of a more typical species, yet still it is just a kit. As Sion pushes away the leaves covering the whimpering creature, the sun hits its fur, illuminating the vibrant cerulean. Quickly, Sion finds the problem this kit is facing. A vine-like tendril is wrapped around one of the kit¡¯s back legs, gripping it tightly and holding it close to the ground. Its two front paws have small cuts, as though it forced its way through a rose bush and cut itself on the thorns. Sion hesitantly reaches out a hand towards the kit¡¯s head. He holds his hand above it for several seconds. Seeing no reaction from the kit, he places his hand on its head and pets it gently. The kit momentarily stops its cries as it unfurls itself. It stares up at Sion with big slit eyes. Sion continues to pet the kit as he moves closer to its hindleg. As Sion squats beside the kit, he removes his hand from the kit¡¯s head. As the kit begins to whimper once more, Sion grabs the trapping tendril. As he attempts to undo the binds, the vine begins to writhe around. It suddenly extends further beyond the kit¡¯s leg and wraps itself around Sion¡¯s arm. As Sion¡¯s arm is pulled to the ground, he recalls his father¡¯s lessons. Both Sion and the kit have been caught in the trap of a carnivorous plant colony.


    Sion begins to struggle fruitlessly. He tries to pull his arm from the ground and out of the vine, but it does not budge. He can feel the vine squeeze down on his arm. Sion has never been so close to death. If he cannot break free of the bindings on his arm, or if somebody who can break them free does not arrive, both he and the kit will be starved out and consumed by the earth beneath them. Sion moves his head as close to his wrist as he can and attempts to gnaw himself free. However, even that is useless. As Sion bites down on the vine, he can feel that his jaw is not moving and that his teeth have not penetrated the tendril. Even though he knows it¡¯s futile, he continues to struggle against his captor. The kit beside him returns to yelping loudly out into the forest.


    As Sion struggles, from deep within the forest, there is a sharp bark. In a flash of blue, the vine stretching deeper into the underbrush snaps. As the sap spews from the vine, Sion¡¯s bindings loosen and fall slack. Sion removes his arm from the vine, then helps the kit out of its own bindings. As relief catches up to him, Sion realizes what stands before him.


    A giant fox, larger than a horse, stands between him and the depths of the forest. Its fur has the same cerulean hue as the kit, but as the fur reaches past the front legs, it gives way to deep sea-green scales. Fur still covers the back of the fox, again spreading further as it approaches the tail, but much of the body is covered in scales, including the hind legs. Sion glances back at the kit as it stands weakly, noticing that hidden beneath its curled body were the indicative scales. The creature before him was not any average fox, but the most dangerous creature of all in the forest: the wise and powerful scalefox, a monster equal parts good fortune and terrible omen.


    As the scalefox glares into the forest with a low growl, dozens more tendrils emerge. Each is shredded apart summarily, cut like butter by the claws and fangs of the powerful beast. The scalefox backs up, moving toward Sion and the kit, never allowing its gaze to leave the inner forest. As it enters the two into its reach, a blooming flower far bigger than a person appears from the underbrush. As it reveals itself, the scalefox pounces. It lingers in the air above the flower for several seconds, blotting out the sunlight striking the ruthless plant. Before even a single vine could be sent forward, the scalefox sinks its fangs into the flower. It moves its head sharply, ripping the blooming bud apart. Sap explodes outward and sprays everywhere, soaking the scalefox. With its enemy defeated, the scalefox turns towards Sion and the kit. It approaches them, sap dripping from its fur.


    The scalefox is elusive, typically keeping to its territory deep within the forest. They very rarely show themselves to humans. Therefore, the only knowledge available to the villagers are the oral tradition carried on throughout the generation and the vestiges of its hunts. All the villagers know is that the scalefox is the most clever of all the forest¡¯s creatures and the most destructive. Wreathed in mystery, they know only of the remnants of forest left in its wake. The legends paint a picture only slightly more favorable. The scalefox is only fabled as righteous in the face of great men binding them to their service through combat. Elsewise it is vindictive and wrathful, systematically destroying all that endangers it, wreaking destruction as it needs to. If a scalefox comes in peace, it is the foretelling of a hero; if a scalefox does not, it is the foretelling of demise. To Tima, who has fought and killed monsters for so much of his life, and so far away from glorious tales of heroics, he can only believe the truth of the latter, and so he has passed on only the latter.


    Sion freezes as he becomes lost in what to do. The colony had not been so urgent as the scalefox, and as it approaches Sion, he cannot bring himself to struggle as he had before. To him, the result is now set. He can only die. As the scalefox reaches Sion, it shakes its head, splattering sap over Sion and the surrounding grass and bushes. It pays no heed to Sion. It approaches the kit and presses its snout into the kit as it begins to nuzzle against its child. The mother scalefox, seeing the weakness in her young, lifts it by the scruff of its neck with her maw. She returns to Sion and does much the same to him. Sion looks around confused as he leaves the ground.


    The scalefox is known for an intelligence great enough to hold grudges, and strength great enough to pay them in full. There have been cases of scalefoxes ending poaching operations without any human intervention, simply because the poachers had made the mistake of harming its children. The scalefox is fully aware of people, and is fully prepared to chase them to the ends of the earth to make them pay. But while they are a great mind and a great body, both endangering humanity, they are also a great heart. Scalefoxes, within their hidden enclaves, have extremely affectionate family units. They are solitary creatures by nature, save for when raising their young. With all its wisdom, the scalefox can understand the harm caused by a person and hold a grudge, but it can also understand clearly the good of a person and owe debts. Wherever there is the capacity for a grudge, there is also the capacity for loyalty and care.


    The scalefox dashes through the forest, too quickly for Sion to register his surroundings. After an indeterminate distance, the scalefox stops in the inner sanctum of the forest she has made her den. The forest is unusually clear here, free of both trees and shrubbery. The only tree within this area is massive, certainly the largest and oldest of the entire forest. Within the exposed roots of the tree are the ruins of a shrine. The wood has all rotted away, leaving behind only overrun stone. A mossy statue of an unknown figure lay enveloped in the roots. Sion can tell where offerings were to be left, and around it are several stone, gem, and metal ornaments of symbols he has never seen before. Sion becomes intrigued, and approaches the statue. He reaches out his hand to push the moss away from the obscured face of the figure. However, his hand cannot reach it. His hand stops short, as though an invisible wall lay between him and the statue. Sion continues to prod at the unseen obstruction in curiosity. Meanwhile, the scalefox bustles about the area. She moves swiftly over roots as she moves around the grand tree collecting grasses. As she passes Sion, her paw steps onto the barrier resolutely. Sion steps away from the statue and instead reaches towards the ornaments, only to find the same barrier between him and this mysterious shrine that neither scalefox pays any heed to.


    The scalefox mother stops running in front of the kit. She chews the grasses she collected as her child sits calmly in front of her. She then licks the kit¡¯s cut forelegs, applying a salve of some kind to the wounds. Sion watches the tranquil scene patiently. After several minutes, the scalefox moves and begins digging, her kit joining her. The scalefox drops a collection of fruits and berries in front of the kit, then drops a similar collection in front of Sion. Sion remembers his hunger as the food arrives. He eats what he can, the fruits not too covered in dirt to be wiped clean, and feels much more satisfied. However, it still was not a whole meal for Sion, and his mind returns to how to find his home. Before any thinking truly begins, the scalefox lifts Sion again, and again it bounds through the forest.


    Tima grabs a dagger at his waist and assumes a stance. Suddenly, a scalefox begins to emerge from the forest. Tima¡¯s eyes are listless, with deep bags beneath them, but he still never loses sight of the monster. He stares it down, brandishing the dagger, hoping that it flees. However, the scalefox continues to strut towards him. As it draws closer, Tima is able to observe it more clearly. Hanging from its jaw is Sion.


    Tima springs into action, stepping forward once as he draws his dagger behind him before thrusting it forward with all his might. Unwavering, the scalefox looks at him. She opens her maw, letting Sion fall away. Tima stops his blade on the dot as he changes targets. As he stops his arm, the foliage behind the scalefox rustles and shakes. Tima drops his body as his arm recedes closer to his chest. With his other arm, Tima catches Sion and pulls him in close. As Tima holds Sion, he begins to bawl into Tima¡¯s chest. Amidst the cries, the scalefox stares back at Tima nobly. Tima bows his head slightly to the scalefox in return. The two then turn away from each other and depart, walking slowly in the other¡¯s presence before suddenly speeding up greatly.


    Tima says nothing as he cradles Sion to his chest while dashing through the forest. Soon after entering his father¡¯s embrace, Sion and Tima exit the forest. Tima leaps over the wall and lands beside the lone hunter set to make sure nobody else got out without the village knowing. The hunter is fatigued, having been stationed there only to let him rest. He¡¯s startled awake when Tima lands. Before the hunter can get a word in, Tima gives a succinct order.


    ¡°Go out into the forest and tell everyone that our job is done.¡± Without waiting for a response, Tima starts walking off.


    As their pace slows, Sion relaxes. His sobs come to an end and he looks up at Tima with tears in his eyes.


    ¡°Sorry, Dad¡­ Are you mad at me?¡± Tima pats Sion¡¯s head comfortingly as he answers.


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Tima has a far off look towards the sky. He slows silently as he continues walking. Warmth grows on his face before he continues. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you a story.¡±


    Sion looks up as Tima lifts him onto his shoulder. As he holds Sion there, Tima begins to tell the story.


    ¡°Once upon a time, there was a dragon who ruled over the wasteland. He was very, very lazy and very, very cruel. He treated all the people of the wastes badly, but he was so lazy that he wouldn''t even do that by himself. Instead, he used his treasures to lure in some of the people and turn them into his servants. Those people were very greedy, so they joined the dragon. For the sake of their greed, those people hurt their friends. They kept fighting for the dragon for generations. But then, one day, Great King Bana appeared. He and his friends fought hard, slaying the dragon. After the dragon was defeated, the people of the wastes approached Great King Bana. They thanked him and told him to take the treasures the dragon kept as a gift. However, Great King Bana refused. He said to the people ¡®I have not come to claim wealth nor glory, I have come only to free my fellows from the tyranny of dragons. Those treasures have long been the treasures of your people. The only place for it is in your hands.¡¯ The people, moved by Great King Bana¡¯s kindness, swore loyalty to him, and began sorting their treasures and returning them to their rightful place. Once Great King Bana left the wastes, however, the dragon¡¯s greedy subordinates didn¡¯t accept this. They fought all the other people of the waste and became rulers themselves. They were just as bad as the dragon, and the people of the waste felt doomed. Before long, their prayers for a new age were answered. The god Vacokenos, God of Emptiness, Hollows, Voids, and Wasted Effort, saw the problem the people were facing. He loves humanity more than any other god, so he couldn¡¯t let the people suffer any longer. He cursed the dragon¡¯s subordinates. He made it so they could never leave the wasteland on their own, and made them wander, hunting any monsters they came across. Even today, their descendants still wander the plains, hoping for forgiveness while never trying to change. Lord Vacokenos loves people dearly, so if they were to become better and earnestly try to connect with others once more, his curse would certainly be broken.¡± Tima looks down at Sion tenderly, cradled still against his chest. ¡°Sion, if somebody knows that what they did is wrong and wholeheartedly apologizes, have the grace to forgive them.¡±


    Tima shifts Sion¡¯s weight in his arms as he pulls open the large wooden doors of the church. He steps inside, shutting the doors behind him. As Tima walks down the aisle, Sister Fayre looks up at him with jubilant surprise, alerting Bule, Wesend, and Oure. The three children turn around, then quickly run up and surround Tima and Sion, tears in their eyes. Sister Fayre thinks for a moment about scolding them, but is herself too overwhelmed with joy. Tima places Sion on the ground beside the boys. As Sion looks at them, the three attempt to apologize, interrupted and incoherent by their tears. As the four boys begin to calm down once more, Tima drops to one knee to meet Sion¡¯s gaze, placing a hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°Sion, never doubt your own potential. Work hard. Study hard. Even if you don¡¯t have a Class, effort will bear fruit. I promise you that you can become great. Promise me that you¡¯ll make yourself great?¡± Sion nods, then Tima stands and leaves, leaving the four boys in Fayre¡¯s charge.


    And so, Sion would work. Under the tutelage of his mother and Father Cynde and under the training of his father and the Elder, Sion worked. Day by day, Sion pushed himself towards greater heights. Even as he worked, his care for others never changed. Even as he himself still learned, he taught the younger children as they received their classes year after year. He would still forever protect them, the people he holds closest in his heart. And in this manner, five years passed.

 Chapter 2

    Sion stares at the pale blue panel floating in the air in front of him. He¡¯s been able to see it since his Rite of Bestowal five years ago, yet even after examining it daily, he cannot understand its nature or its contents. All he knows is that it is a record of abilities and that he can summon it into his vision by looking at someone and willing for it to come. No matter how often he reads his own list of skills, he cannot understand it. Written in the golden script is something he has seen in nobody else. The first three skills in his list are ones he doesn¡¯t know the origin of. All three skills, ¡°Temporal Magic,¡± ¡°Spatial Magic,¡± and ¡°Sensory Magic,¡± are listed at being at their maximum strength already, and all three are further marked as ¡°locked.¡± Not a single person in the village even comes close to having a maximum strength skill, yet Sion has three while still a child. Beyond that, not a single person has a skill that is locked besides Sion. Sion is still confounded by it, but cannot even manage to explain it to another with nobody able to see it as he does. Sion sighs as begins to think.


    ¡°These locked skills¡­ The only explanation must be that it¡¯s because I¡¯m an ¡°Inheritor,¡± but if it¡¯s an inheritance, who did I inherit it from? Temporal Magic and Spatial Magic were both last seen in the time of heroes, so why do I have it now? Did somebody from that long ago send them to me? But why did they give it to me in particular? And why in this time? They even gave me their eyes¡­ Why would they have done that?¡± Sion sighs more deeply as he makes the panel vanish. ¡°I still can¡¯t think of anything. I hope I can find some answers at the academy. Will I even have time to look for answers, though? I need to devote myself to my studies first and foremost, so will I just have to hope an answer shows up in classes?¡± Sion begins to sigh again before slapping the sides of his head. He stands abruptly and begins to yell out to nobody.


    ¡°Thinking about this is pointless! What¡¯s the point in thinking this hard about something I¡¯ve never known the answer to! I just need to go find the answer, don¡¯t I?!¡± After moralizing himself, Sion begins to walk back home.


    Sion has grown well. He walks with long strides over the fields of grass that cover the village. He is impressively tall, standing above even his father now. Sion gazes at the houses of the farmers and their fields as he walks by them. He has no want for greater muscle or greater strength, although he still pursues it in training. Sion walks slowly, basking in the sunlight of a clear sky that makes pale blue strips of his hair appear to glow. His body is lean and supple, his disposition powerful. He walks by the church, quietly passing Sister Fayre¡¯s morning lesson to the younger kids. As Sion evades the more crowded town square, he looks at the small wooden stage and reflects on the last five years.


    He thinks about his friends, who he swore to protect, and prays for their future happiness. He thinks about all the younger kids, and all the time he spent teaching them, and wishes for them to grow up well. He thinks of the hunters that happily guided him after his successful return from the forest. He thinks of Sister Fayre, the first of his teachers and the one who helped all the village children the most. He thinks of the Elder, who alongside his father instructed him in how to fight and told him of the rest of the world. He thinks of Father Cynde, who alongside his mother taught him history and language. He thinks of his mother, who taught him to be kind and to never lose against injustice. He thinks of his father, who taught him to love the world. He thinks of everyone in the village¡ª everyone who loves him dearly.


    Sion reaches his home without having met another person. He grabs the metal handle on the door and pulls it open. As he steps inside, he finds his mother at work at the table. Sion is surprised to see her as she calmly stands and approaches her son. She embraces him, holding him tightly. Instinctively, Sion bends down and rests his head on her shoulder. She begins to stroke his head.


    ¡°Sion, even though we¡¯re the ones who pushed you to do it, we¡¯re still sad that you''ll be leaving so soon.¡± Sion nods slightly as she continues. ¡°Your father is waiting at the entrance to the village with your things.¡±


    ¡°Why did he do that?¡±


    ¡°He was scared that you¡¯d try to sneak off without any noticing.¡±


    ¡°Why would he think that?¡±


    ¡°He said it¡¯s because you two are so similar.¡± Sion giggles slightly. ¡°Well, he¡¯s right about that. You are so much like him. You¡¯re just as kind, just as loving, and just as brave and headstrong.¡± She hugs him tightly before letting him go. ¡°Fayre left a present for you. I left it on your bed, go get it.¡±


    Sion walks to his bed to find a new outfit waiting for him. Sion quickly changes into it. The shirt covers his body and his arms with the color of the night sky. The collar, cuffs, and hem are highlighted with a bright golden color made from sunbeam lilies from Clea. The pants are a lighter, desaturated blue. Sion can feel magic woven into the clothes, a testament to the wishes Sister Fayre packed into them.


    Sion steps back before his mother, who presses her hands against his arms and holds him in place. She looks at him and smiles.


    ¡°Sion, you look so handsome.¡± She pulls her arms away reservedly as Sion thanks her and walks back towards the door. As he opens the door, she rushes up to him and hugs him tightly once more.


    ¡°Sion, make sure you eat properly, and make sure to listen to your teachers, and make sure to help out your friends, and make sure that you can come back home to us safely. I love you.¡± Sion wraps his arms around his mother.


    ¡°I love you too. I¡¯ll make sure to come back.¡± Sion¡¯s mother lets go of him, and he walks out towards the entrance of the village.


    As Sion approaches the undecorated wooden gate, he sees five people beneath it, waiting for his arrival. Three of them break away and begin to run towards him, leaving the other two to stand stoically. Bule, Wesend, and Oure dash towards Sion, barely stopping short of tackling him to the ground. Sion smiles at them.


    ¡°I¡¯m happy to see you guys before I leave.¡± Bule rebuts him.


    ¡°Then why did you try to leave without us knowing?¡± Sion doesn¡¯t answer, holding his mouth closed in a smile. He walks with them towards the gate, listening to them as they levy complaints towards him. He doesn¡¯t answer a single one. As they approach the gate, the three quiet down. Sion turns to look at them. As he begins to speak, his voice wavers for a single moment.


    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you three while I¡¯m gone.¡± The three of them give Sion quick embraces, each quietly telling him ¡°I¡¯ll miss you too.¡± As they back off slightly towards the village, Father Cynde approaches. He gives Sion an envelope with a wax seal emblazoned with a symbol of a flower, Father Cynde¡¯s symbol.


    ¡°Sion, you¡¯ve always been a bright and capable child, but you also have always had all of us to rely on. I don¡¯t want to send you out into the world without any connection to speak of, so I¡¯ve given that to you. It¡¯s a letter of introduction for the Bishop of Clea. Give it to him and you¡¯ll be able to count on his aid if you ever require it. I wish you well in your studies.¡±


    Father Cynde steps past Sion and ushers the other three boys back with him. Sion takes a step forward towards his father. This whole time, he had been standing perfectly still, his arms crossed over his chest. Sion stands in front of him as he begins to speak.


    ¡°Sion, you have nothing to fear outside this gate. You¡¯ve been trained well. You¡¯ve been taught well. As long as you can use everything you¡¯ve learned, you have nothing to fear. I want you to go out there and learn as much as you can. Education is the single greatest task for a person. Even if you just end up running back here, there is value in leaving first. And if you go out there and decide you never want to come back, that¡¯s fine too. That you¡¯ll always come back to us is our desire. If you decide something else for yourself, you don¡¯t need to be beholden to all of us. There¡¯s only one thing I want you to remember with all your heart. Lord Vacokenos loves us greatly, and so he protects us from the voids. You will never gain nothing for your efforts. Not a single person is truly empty inside. Whether you¡¯re working hard towards a goal or endlessly reaching out your hand to somebody, there is no such thing as a wasted effort.¡±


    Sion¡¯s father hands him three things: a bag of spare clothes, a pouch with some money, and a simple dagger. After Sion receives each object, his father grabs his head and pulls it down into his chest. Cradling Sion against his chest, his father begins to rub his head gently. Sion doesn¡¯t hear his father make a single noise, but when he looks up at him, he sees tears falling down his father¡¯s still expressionless face. He releases Sion without a word. Sion begins to walk out past the gate. His father turns to watch as he leaves the village. As Sion distances himself from the gate, he whistles. The piercing noise travels through the air. Several moments later, a joyous and excited scalefox bounds around the wall surrounding the village, its blue-green fur and scales shimmering in the sunlight. It yips happily at Sion. Sion smiles at him.


    ¡°Regn, let¡¯s walk a bit.¡±


    Sion looks up at the cloudless sky above his head. It stretches out forever, completely unbound, so far from his home. Sion watches the sky, vigilant for any sudden storms.


    Sion cries.


    Regn lifts Sion in his maw, tossing Sion onto his back. Sion buries his face into Regn¡¯s blue fur. Regn begins to dash across the dirt road, gently shaking Sion. After several minutes, Sion begins to raise himself once more. He grips Regn¡¯s fur, careful not to pull on it, and pulls his body up. With his upper body now raised, Sion pushes himself back, causing him to fall on Regn¡¯s back, now seated. Sion looks out at his surroundings as he rises and falls from Regn¡¯s large bounds.


    Sion had only ever left the village for the forest. The landscape before him was brand new. The plains expand out in each direction. Everywhere he looks, Sion sees the green grass before him. A soft breeze rustles throughout the plains. No matter how far he and Regn go, the view Sion sees remains the same. Sion looks back and sees the gate of his village shrinking into a smaller and smaller dot. His heart is still heavy with his newly dawned loneliness as the village recedes from view. Regn never stops running straight ahead as Sion takes in the sight around him.


    Sion looks out coolly as his tireless companion continues to run. As Sion gazes out into the plains, he notices something. He sees an ornate carriage stopped along a branching road and swarmed with a throbbing mass of green figures. Sion quickly pats Regn¡¯s head and points in the direction of the carriage. Regn slows as he turns, then dashes at breakneck speed. Sion crouches on Regn¡¯s back as the winds rush around him.


    Protecting the carriage is a single young man. He has short pale blonde hair and dark, pointed eyes. Behind him, staring at him from the window of the carriage with disinterest and boredom, is a young woman with long silvery pink hair and a soft face. From within the carriage, she speaks to him.


    ¡°Scima, just let me fight! All you¡¯re doing is tiring yourself out right at the start of our journey!¡±


    ¡°No. My duty is to protect you. Being able to protect you is my pride, so I can¡¯t let you fight.¡±


    ¡°Hah¡­ Fine, do whatever you please.¡±


    Scima plunges his blade into a goblin¡¯s chest. He forces it all the way through the goblin as blood spurts out, covering the blade. As the rest of the horde draws closer, Scima swings his sword, not bothering to remove the corpse of the goblin from its tip. He slams the goblin¡¯s body into its companions with a gruesome crunch of bones. The goblins begin to back away in fear, yet do not retreat in full. Scima swipes his sword through the air, splattering blood on the ground as he cleans his blade. As Scima finishes removing the blood, the goblins begin to encroach on the carriage once more.


    Scima dashes forward and drops his body near to the ground, lowering himself beneath the small bodies of the goblins. He thrusts his sword up at the nearest goblin. The blade pierces the throat, emerging from the nape on the other side. As Scima begins to rise, light collects in his palm. He waves his hand out at the rest of the goblins. Scima¡¯s hand dims as light begins to flicker on the grass between him and the goblins. Light sparks, flying above the goblins¡¯ heads like firecrackers. Although silent, Scima¡¯s light show is enough to ward off the goblins momentarily as he retrieves his weapon. Scima does not look away from his next opponents, never being distracted by the sound of the burbling blood. He reaches out and grips the hilt of his blade without missing a beat. Scima begins to pull his sword from its bloody sheath, but feels something amiss.


    Scima now turns his head to examine his withdrawn weapon. The tip has melted away, leaving globs of metal puddling at the goblin¡¯s feet. As Scima shifts his attention to the sword, he notices that along its entire length there is a faint sizzling. The metal has become flaccid, bending towards the ground as half melted chunks fall to the ground from their own weight. Scima takes a strong step forward and plants his feet to the ground. He twists his body, drawing back the hand holding his deteriorating sword. He then jerks his arm forward as he twists his body back the other way. Scima releases his grip on the hilt. The sword goes flying straight ahead, leaving a line of metal strewn in its wake. It collides with the chest of another goblin. The metal of the blade splatters, leaving a large silver stain on the goblin¡¯s green skin. As the hilt smashes into the goblin¡¯s chest, it is knocked back and falls to the ground. As the goblin begins to recover, Scima mutters to himself, expressing all his thoughts aloud.


    ¡°Damn it all. What was that? Was it that goblin¡¯s blood? I¡¯ve never heard about that before. What caused it? Who do we need to go to? Is just Lord Rihtwis fine? Can I handle this whole horde without a weapon? Probably, but that¡¯s assuming the rest of them are normal. What do I do about a new weapon? How quickly can it get prepared? Are there spares somewhere? We really need to turn back this soon?¡± Scima clicks his tongue.


    The frustrated goblin rises to its feet and charges at the now unarmed Scima. Scima lunges forward towards the goblin. He places his large palm around its skull. Scima tightens his grip and lifts the goblin into the air from its head. It flails its body around and tries to grab at Scima¡¯s arm, but is powerless in the face of his might. Scima holds his arm out parallel to the ground, looking out into the crowd of goblins. The goblins shuffle around dumbfounded, again neither approaching nor retreating. Scima begins to press his fingers deeper into the goblin. The goblin¡¯s panicked defense increases in intensity as it feels pressure against its skull. Soon a loud snap and crack fills the area. They are drowned out by the pained screams, rough and raspy, of the goblin. The goblins freeze in fear for a moment, then become wildly agitated as the sounds come to an end.


    Scima, stone faced, tosses the body of the goblin into the horde. As it leaves his hand, he begins to shake off the blood. The goblin body falls to the ground, leaving its crushed head to rest there, as Scima looks out coldly. The goblins fall quiet once more. They begin to approach Scima uneasily.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    As they inch closer, Scima feels a powerful presence creeping up on him. It is far more powerful than the small goblins or even the larger hobgoblins, still far in the back watching the battle unfold. Suddenly, close to Scima¡¯s head, a loud, shrill bark erupts from the maw of a scalefox. Upon seeing the large frame of the beast and feeling its pressure bearing down on them, many of the goblins begin to flee. Their survival instincts have finally won over with the new arrival, with every muscle in their body screaming out that they will never be able to win. Simultaneously, the hobgoblins now step forward, cutting down any deserters that cross their path.


    As the hectic flight from the carriage ends, only six goblins are left behind in addition to the three hobgoblins that were commanding them. Sion slides off Regn¡¯s back, landing next to Scima. While the goblins remain wary, Scima begins to talk to Sion.


    ¡°Who are you? Why did you come?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Sion. I saw you were getting attacked.¡±


    ¡°Alright, Sion, each of the three of us can take on two goblins and a hob?¡±


    ¡°Got it. Regn, you got it?¡± Regn yelps in response.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get careless just because they¡¯re goblins. Something¡¯s up with them. One of their blood melted right through my sword.¡± At this remark, Sion begins to scan Scima¡¯s body. The translucent panel appears between the two, unbeknownst to Scima. Sion skims through it, paying little mind to either the name, Scima Yslende, or the class, ¡°Gleamblade.¡± At the current moment, Sion cares only about the skills. Scima has a varied list of martial skills ranging all kinds of weapons. Although Scima¡¯s skill with martial arts is superior to Sion¡¯s, his skill with blades is even more so. Sion grabs the dagger at his waist by the covered blade and hands it to Scima.


    ¡°Take this. I think you¡¯ll use it better than I could.¡± Scima grabs the hilt and moves the dagger around in his hand.


    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll return it when we¡¯re done here.¡±


    With the plan settled, Sion, Scima, and Regn close the distance between themselves and the goblins. The first to reach them is Regn. Regn swiftly closes his maw around a goblin, crushing it. As he lifts the dead goblin, he swipes at the other with his claws. Regn spits out the goblin as the other falls to the ground, blood streaming from its chest. The hobgoblin approaches Regn, brandishing in his hand a rusted saber.


    The hobgoblin slashes at Regn¡¯s foreleg. The blade sinks into the fur, but cannot cut through. Although it is only against fur, the blade is stopped by the tough, clumped fur closer to the leg itself. The hobgoblin withdraws its blade and tries to step backwards. However, Regn seizes the opportunity. Regn paws at the hobgoblin, knocking it to the ground. He leers down at it as he opens his jaw. Regn begins to rip the hobgoblin apart. He rips skin from muscles and rends muscle from bone as he bites into the torso of the hobgoblin. As the hobgoblin stops writhing under Regn, he sits calmly and watches Sion and Scima¡¯s own battles.


    Scima thrusts forward with the dagger. He plants it deep into a goblin¡¯s chest before it can react. Scima twists the dagger inside of the goblin, boring a hole gushing with blood. He then pulls the dagger through the goblin¡¯s side. The goblin¡¯s chest is ripped open, the dagger leaving a long bloody line across its chest. As Scima pulls the dagger from the goblin¡¯s body, he starts splattering the blood that collected on the blade. As he wipes away the remainder, the other goblin swings its club at him. Scima catches the wooden club with the dagger, cutting into the wood as it stops. Scima grabs the club and begins to push it away, attempting to free his blade. As he does so, he hooks his foot around the goblin¡¯s leg and strikes its calf. As the goblin flinches from the pain, Scima sweeps its leg and forces the goblin to the ground. As the goblin falls, Scima looses the dagger from the club. In a single motion, Scima follows the falling goblin. As it slams into the grass, Scima plunges the dagger into its eye. The goblin grabs Scima¡¯s arm, but it quickly loosens its grip as its arms fall slack at its side.


    Scima stands tall as he once more wipes the blood from the blade of the dagger. The hobgoblin steps forward, brandishing a woodcutter¡¯s ax in its hands. Scima does not move, instead allowing the hobgoblin to approach as he awaits it. The hobgoblin walks slowly. After several steps, Scima is in the path of the ax head. The hobgoblin takes a strong step forward, bracing itself for the mighty swing of the ax. The attack is startling fast compared to the slow movements preceding it. Scima stabs at the handle across his body. The tip of the dagger plants itself into the wooden shaft as Scima feels a jolt of force travel through his arm. The hobgoblin keeps pushing the ax forward regardless. Scima continues to resist with his own overwhelming force as a counter. He soon realizes, however, that it will only prolong the fight to his opponents favor. Scima slides the edge of the dagger about the handle, deftly twisting his own hand around to maintain his grip. As the tip of the dagger pops out from the shaft, Scima slashes. The ax head falls to the grass as Scima holds the dagger at his hip. The dagger begins to glow with a bright light. As the hobgoblin moves to cover its eyes, the light coalesces and solidifies around the blade. It stretches farther, creating a blade of light molded of steel. As Scima swings the sword, the light swells. As the light collides with the hobgoblin, the blade slices through its stomach, cutting it in two. As the blood fountains out, Scima gasps for air.


    Sion slams his fist into a goblin as the light erupts. From his own body, wispy pale blue light flows into the goblin. The goblin staggers back. It stares at Sion defiantly. The strike left a bright red mark on the goblin¡¯s body. As the goblin takes a step forward, the red mark glows with faint blue light. The goblin shudders and collapses to the ground, a blue mist rising from the wound and dissipating still near to the ground. Sion whips his body around, striking his foreleg into the other goblin¡¯s head. The goblin shakes off the blow as blue light begins to emit from it too. As with its comrade, this goblin falls to the ground unceremoniously. Both goblins lay on the ground dead, eyes pale and hazy.


    The final hobgoblin now approaches Sion. The sclera of its eyes has turned jet black as mist the same color spills from its mouth. It charges Sion, no weapon in hand. It swipes at Sion¡¯s chest, but he dodges the attack with a hair¡¯s breadth. Sion breaths in as he launches a punch towards the hobgoblin¡¯s shoulder, blue mist emitting from his body. The hobgoblin throws itself into Sion¡¯s blow. As it crashes its shoulder into Sion¡¯s fist, the blue mist shudders and fades away ineffectually. The hobgoblin scratches at Sion¡¯s side with its clawed hand. Sion quickly steps back and begins to breathe deeply. The blue mist begins to gather around his body once more. The hobgoblin slashes towards Sion. As he dodges, the mist leaks from his body and fizzles out. Again and again, Sion tries to breathe and is stopped by the hobgoblin. With each swipe its attacks grow more rapid. The color of its skin darkens as it attacks, more and more black mist billowing from its mouth as the seconds go by. Soon it becomes a struggle for Sion to breathe properly at all. His layer of mist becomes little more than a whimper as he tries to recover from the hobgoblin¡¯s onslaught. As Sion evades the hobgoblin, it begins a crazed snarl. Sion drops to one knee and begins to breathe, holding his fist at the ready. As the blue mist flickers around him, the hobgoblin lunges towards Sion¡¯s neck, maw open wide. Sion breathes resolutely, the only movement in his body the air in his stomach. The hobgoblin leans over Sion, falling down onto him. Sion exhales sharply and drives his fist into the hobgoblin¡¯s stomach. Black mist puffs out of its mouth and is soon replaced with pale blue. The hobgoblin falls to the ground, any sign of the strange dark mist disappearing from its body.


    As Sion looks back at the carriage, he sees Scima speaking to the girl inside. Sion does not approach. Soon, Scima turns from the carriage and steps in front of Sion.


    ¡°Sion, we would like to thank you properly for your aid. We request that you come with us to Clea.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great. I was going to Clea anyway.¡±


    ¡°Also, My Lady would like to speak with you until we return, so please join us in the carriage.¡±


    Sion and Scima climb into the carriage. As the carriage begins to move along the road, Regn walks slowly beside it. The seats are soft and plush, higher quality than anything Sion had seen in the village. Scima quickly begins to introduce himself and the girl.


    ¡°This is Lady Eva. And I¡¯m her guard, Scima.¡± Sion smiles, trying to hide the fact he had already learned Scima¡¯s name before.


    ¡°I¡¯m Sion. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you two.¡± Eva begins to speak with an energetic and cheerful tone that does not match her distinguished figure.


    ¡°Sion, where are you from? What¡¯s your class? Why are you coming to Clea? How long have you trained? What was that blue mist you used?¡± Sion is almost overwhelmed by the rapid questions, speaking slowly as he answers.


    ¡°I¡¯m from a small village around Clea. I¡¯m going to Clea to enroll in the Academy. I¡¯ve been training with my father and the village elder for the past five years. The blue mist comes from Soul Magic. My class¡­ I¡¯d rather keep a secret.¡± Eva looks at him with bright eyes.


    ¡°Soul Magic? That¡¯s quite a rarity. Even my father has met only a few proficient users. How did you train in it? Does your father also possess Soul Magic?¡±


    ¡°No. I had to learn all on my own inbetween training, lessons, hunting, and babysitting. I¡¯m still only good enough to do well against monsters as weak as goblins. I could barely handle the hobgoblin and I was mostly using what I was trained in.¡± Sion laughs half-heartedly.


    ¡°Interesting. Soul Magic is typically tied to bloodlines, is it not? Did you inherit it from your mother or your ancestors?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know where it came from. My father never even knew his grandparents, much less anyone before then. And the village doesn¡¯t keep family records like that so we couldn¡¯t find out for my mother. They were both surprised the first time I used it and the priest decided we might as well just take it as divine providence.¡±


    ¡°I see. How interesting. Next question, then. I saw your approach, and you were riding along the road leading away from Clea. If Clea is your destination, why was that?¡± Although her tone hasn¡¯t changed, Sion feels a chill from Eva.


    ¡°I noticed you were being attacked, so I decided to help.¡± Eva leans over and whispers something in Scima¡¯s ear. Scima nods, then whispers something back to her. She nods as her shoulders relax slightly. Scima begins to ask his own questions, speaking bluntly.


    ¡°So what¡¯s with the fox?¡± Scima vaguely gestures towards Regn¡¯s direction outside the carriage.


    ¡°His name is Regn. I met him when he was a kit. He¡¯s very tame, if that¡¯s what you were worried about.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know scalefoxes could get tame like that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I didn¡¯t know either until the villagers told me some old stories. They¡¯re very intelligent and very loving, even though they''re reclusive and powerful.¡± Scima nods slowly.


    ¡°So he just follows you out of loyalty?¡±


    ¡°I guess you could put it that way.¡± Scima looks deep in thought before he suddenly reaches for the dagger at his waist. He sticks the hilt out towards Sion.


    ¡°I almost forgot about this. Thank you for loaning it to me, it¡¯s a good weapon.¡± Sion takes it in his hand.


    ¡°No, I just thought it¡¯d do better in your hands.¡± Scima looks intrigued.


    ¡°So you haven¡¯t trained with weapons much?¡± Sion shakes his head.


    ¡°Not really. Both my father and the elder only knew how to use weapons too heavy for me, so they didn¡¯t know how to teach me. The dagger was more insurance than anything I think.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting. I can tell you¡¯re real strong just from that fight, but they used weapons too heavy for you?¡±


    ¡°I mean, I was ten. I¡¯m as strong as I am now because of their training. By the time I was strong enough they decided they wouldn¡¯t have enough time for proper training.¡±


    ¡°So why martial arts?¡±


    ¡°My friend is a ¡°Brawler,¡± so I just sparred with him and picked it up. And then I figured that it worked well with my Soul Magic.¡± Scima clicks his tongue and looks out the window. Eva looks at him, then continues talking.


    ¡°Well, I feel like we¡¯ve been asking all the questions. If you have any questions for us, feel free to ask.¡± Sion looks contemplative.


    ¡°The only thing I¡¯m wondering is where you were going before you got attacked.¡±


    ¡°Ultimately, our destination is Sagax Academy in Saturgranum. We were first heading to the border city Ecg, where the city lord would provide an entourage to Messis.¡± Sion looks lost.


    ¡°Sagax Academy? Sorry, I only know much about Dracabana.¡±


    ¡°Sagax Academy is the most prestigious academy on the continent. Each nation sends some students there each year to show off to the other nations.¡± Eva¡¯s voice drops. ¡°Although we¡¯re the first students Dracabana has sent in several years.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s that important, why is it just the two of you?¡±


    ¡°The area around Clea is meant to be safe. That¡¯s why we¡¯re returning. We need to report the goblins.¡± Scima groans.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe that damned thing melted my damn sword!¡± Sion speaks up.


    ¡°Oh, actually, if you¡¯re reporting that too, I should tell you about the hobgoblin I fought. It had this weird black mist coming out of it and it kept getting darker and going feral.¡± Scima groans again. He looks out the window.


    ¡°Well, at least we¡¯re in the city.¡± He looks at Sion. ¡°Let¡¯s get you all thanked up.¡±


    As the carriage moves through the city, Sion can only hear the bustle just beyond the doors of the carriage. As he sits and listens, the sounds fall away, then the carriage slows, then stops. A butler opens the door of the carriage. He looks at Sion then jerks his head towards Eva. She answers him before he asks.


    ¡°I¡¯m bringing him to my father; he¡¯s my guest.¡± The butler looks derailed, but begins to usher the three of them through long hallways decorated with armor, weapons, and paintings. After passing several such hallways, they enter a large hall. Against the far wall is a raised platform and several steps, an ornate throne atop it. Along the walls are crimson flags flying a golden dragon head crest. Red carpet covers the floor. Soon after they walk into the hall, two knights enter from another door. They move to stand at either side of the throne, planting their sheathed blades towards the ground and gripping the pommel in both hands. At their arrival, Eva, Scima, and the butler drop to one knee. Sion quickly follows suit and kneels beside them.


    Two aged men then walk into the hall. The leading man has a stern countenance and graying facial hair. He wears silken clothes and a mantle bearing the colors of the flag. Atop his head is a short golden crown adorned with bright red dragon¡¯s eye gems. Behind him is an older man wearing fine robes and glasses, a white beard falling from his face. The older man walks very intentionally, maintaining a certain distance from the other man. The crowned man looks at Eva and speaks in a measured and dignified manner in his deep voice.


    ¡°My darling Evangelina, what has occurred for you to return so soon?¡±


    ¡°Father, I believe Scima is better suited for the report.¡± The man gives a slight nod as Scima continues.


    ¡°Your Majesty, we were attacked by a horde of goblins led by three hobgoblins. Beyond that, there was something strange to them. One goblin seemed to have blood capable of melting metal and one hobgoblin spewed black mist and grew mad as it fought. I could not tell if there were any other such anomalies.¡±


    ¡°I see. I will get the knights to launch an investigation posthaste. I suppose that the matter of your attack is why you have brought this young man to me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. He came to our aid when he saw us endangered.¡±


    ¡°Young man, stand before me.¡± Sion rises to his feet and steps forward. ¡°Name yourself, young man.¡±


    ¡°My name is Sion, sir.¡± The crowned man examines Sion from his throne.


    ¡°Young Sion, you have my gratitude for protecting my daughter. Name an item I can give as a token of my gratitude.¡± Sion looks slightly uncomfortable in the hall.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry sir, but I refuse. Just your thanks are enough, there¡¯s nothing else I want.¡± The man laughs, filling the hall.


    ¡°Young Sion, surely there must be something my men or I can provide for you while you are in Clea.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, but I really can¡¯t think of anything.¡± Scima interjects quickly.


    ¡°Your Majesty, may I make a suggestion?¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    ¡°Sion will soon attend Clea Academy¡ª¡± the crowned man interrupts and asks Sion directly.


    ¡°Young Sion, is that correct? Why have you decided to come to our Clea Academy?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir, that¡¯s right. My father wanted me to go beyond our village and learn all I can, so he sent me here.¡± There¡¯s a glint in the man¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°I see. Then I have a proposition. I will send you alongside Evangelina and Scima to Sagax Academy as a representative of Dracabana.¡± Both Sion and the older man are taken aback. The older man regains himself first.


    ¡°King Rihtwis, what are you suggesting?¡±


    ¡°Geard, we can send three students to Sagax. Although we found no others that met our standards, both Evangelina and Scima have decided he should be brought before me. I believe he shall be the third.¡±


    ¡°My Lord, although we do indeed have one unfilled representative role, is it truly wise to send a boy who knows not of decorum and formality as our dignitary.¡± King Rihtwis looks down at Sion.


    ¡°Geard, I believe in my judgment. Young Sion, will you accept this august role for our kingdom?¡± Sion collects himself enough to speak.


    ¡°Yes sir. I¡¯ll accept your offer with gratitude.¡± King Rihtwis smiles.


    ¡°Very well! Rest for today. For the next week you shall be instructed in the ways of a proper dignitary!¡±

 Chapter 3

    Sion awakes with a start. He sits up in the soft bed his body has sunken into. Covering his body is a velvet blanket, wrapped tightly to his body. He slowly and gently removes it from himself. Once his body has been freed, Sion slides off the mattress and stretches. As he stretches his arms and his back, he can feel himself shaking off all the drowsiness. He continues to stretch out the rest of his body. As he stretches his arms across his body, the large wooden doors are pushed open. A stoic and cold-faced butler walks inside. He and Sion stare at each other, both in confused surprise. The butler cracks first as his stony expression falls away.


    ¡°Huh? Sir¡­ Sion, was it? You¡¯re already awake?¡± He¡¯s been caught off guard to find a guest who woke alongside the servants.


    ¡°Of course I am! You can¡¯t waste the daylight! What are you doing coming into a room while somebody is sleeping like that!?¡± Sion has been caught off guard by the duties of a noble¡¯s staff unknown to him, and has begun probing for a motive in the butler.


    ¡°It¡¯s my job! I was to wake you and prepare you for the day! And what do you mean ¡®waste the daylight!?¡¯ You haven¡¯t opened the curtains or anything!¡± The butler has begun to raise his voice at Sion.


    From the hall, a young maid appears behind the butler. She made no noise as she approached. She strikes at the back of the butler¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Stop being so rowdy so early in the morning.¡±


    The butler falls forward and onto the floor. The maid looks up at Sion, freezes for a moment, then slinks away quickly. Sion looks at the fallen butler and begins to move closer to him. He drops to one knee and begins to try and shake the butler awake. As he shakes the butler, the maid appears once more, now carrying Sion¡¯s clothes. She has a smile on her face and her posture has changed to appear demure. She hands Sion his clothing.


    ¡°My, Sir Sion, what a surprise to see you so early. Good morning to you.¡± She bows as Sion takes his clothes from her.


    ¡°Good morning, miss. Can you explain what¡¯s going on?¡± Sion returns to shaking the butler, who the maid feigns shock at seeing.


    ¡°Oh my, what a ghastly thing to see so early in the morning! Whoever could have done this?¡± Sion stops shaking and looks up at the maid.


    ¡°Miss, there¡¯s no point in pretending.¡± The maid ignores him.


    ¡°Once you¡¯re dressed, I¡¯ll take you to the training grounds. In the meantime, I¡¯ll call for somebody to take care of him.¡± She gestures towards the fallen butler. Sion nods and begins to remove his pajamas, revealing his toned muscles. The maid is shocked at his sudden stripping and dispenses with her reserved persona entirely.


    ¡°Ok, stop. The first thing to know about polite society is that you can¡¯t be stripping in front of people all of a sudden. Why did you even think that would be appropriate?¡± Sion thinks to himself.


    ¡°I never thought about it, I guess I just got used to doing it.¡±


    ¡°What were you doing to ¡®get used to it?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Teaching kids to swim and helping them bathe, I guess.¡± The maid looks tired of this already as she holds back a retort.


    ¡°Ok, you change, I¡¯ll take this guy somewhere to rest.¡± The maid lifts the butler onto her shoulder and carries him off.


    She shuts the door behind her as she leaves Sion. Sion quickly finishes changing. Soon after, he hears a knock at the door. As he goes to grab the handle and open it, the maid pushes them open herself. She looks at Sion, examining him.


    ¡°Ok, good, follow me.¡± She walks out from the room and Sion follows. As they walk, Sion looks down at her.


    ¡°Miss, what¡¯s your name?¡± She looks up at him.


    ¡°Theyni.¡±


    ¡°Miss Theyni, can you explain what your job is to me?¡± Theyni looks slightly confused.


    ¡°Sure? As a maid of the Dracabanan royal family, my job is to attend to the master¡¯s needs, his family¡¯s needs, and his guests¡¯ needs, as well as maintain the castle. Why are you asking?¡±


    ¡°That man came in and I didn¡¯t know why, but he said it was his job.¡±


    ¡°Got it. Do you know your schedule for the day?¡± Sion shakes his head. ¡°His Majesty is having you train in the sword, and in magic today, and then receive instruction in manners starting tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Why would they spend time making me use a sword?¡±


    ¡°Do you not use one? It must¡¯ve been the prime minister then. Bet he thought you needed to have a sword and look proper even if it isn¡¯t helping.¡± They turn a corner into another hall. ¡°Although, you only have a week and you didn¡¯t know what a butler was until this morning, so it might all be pointless.¡± They walk outside into a large stone covered area. ¡°Ok, you¡¯re here. I¡¯m leaving.¡± As Theyni begins to return inside, Sion turns to face her and lowers his head slightly.


    ¡°Miss Theyni, thank you for bringing me here.¡± Theyni doesn¡¯t respond or turn back, but waves to Sion as she leaves.


    The training grounds are wide, but enclosed by walls on all sides. At each wall is an entrance. Three of those entrances are grand doorways, with the one remaining entrance being a simplistic gate set in the wall. The gate is opposite the door Sion entered from, and as he glances through it, he sees another stone wall a ways past it. There are several soldiers in ornate armor decorated with the golden dragon head already training. They either practice swinging their swords or practice stabbing their spears. Standing apart from them is an unarmored man holding a sword down towards the ground with another at his hip. The man has short and neatly trimmed white hair and a white beard. When Sion sees the man, he is reminded of the village Elder. From just a quick look, Sion can tell that this man¡¯s strength far outstrips the soldiers even in his old age.


    Sion approaches the lone old man. Once he nears him, the old man turns and eyes Sion up and down.


    ¡°You must be that boy Sion. I was getting tired of waiting.¡± The old man throws the sword in his hands to Sion as he draws the blade at his hip. ¡°I¡¯m General Shard. His Majesty King Rihtwis told me to put you through the wringer.¡± As Sion grabs the sword, he realizes that powerful magic has been cast on it. However, before he can inspect it and without any explanation or warning, General Shard begins his training.


    General Shard slashes towards Sion¡¯s upper arm. Sion twists his upper body and thrusts his palm towards the blade. However, the old general is too quick for Sion. The edge of the sword slams into Sion¡¯s arm, then quickly smacks his other hand still in motion. General Shard looks at Sion with disappointment.


    ¡°Use that sword, boy. I gave it to you for a reason.¡±


    Sion thrusts forward with the tip of his blade. General Shard looks unimpressed as he knocks the blade off course and counters with his own thrust. He pushes the tip of his sword into Sion¡¯s sternum and pushes him to the ground. General Shard looks down at him.


    ¡°How artless. What a pathetic attack, boy. Is that really the best you can do? Make this worth my time, boy.¡±


    Sion deftly jumps back up and brandishes the sword. He walks towards General Shard, staring at him straight on. The general looks relaxed as Sion approaches him. Sion takes a step closer, then slides himself behind the general. He takes a swing at the general¡¯s side. Without even turning his head, the general parries Sion¡¯s attack. He then redirects the swing to the ground, smacking Sion¡¯s head on the way down, knocking him to the ground. He turns to look down at Sion.


    ¡°Is that big body of yours all you have? Are you all muscle, boy? If this is all there is to you, then quit. Give up and chase around goblins if you want to fight.¡±


    Sion throws his sword up at General Shard. The general clicks his tongue and knocks the sword away. He then jerks his sword near his face. Sion is holding his body up by his hands, swinging his foot into the general¡¯s head as he spins his body back upright. The general braces against the blow using the flat of his blade pressed against his other arm. The force of the blow pushes General Shard tens of centimeters away. As the two stand up and straighten themselves out in preparation, General Shard begins to laugh heartily. He laughs so loudly that he distracts the attention of the soldiers who paid the two of them no heed before.


    ¡°Where have you been hiding that, boy!? What a good kick, boy! You¡¯ve gotten this old man excited! Come at me!¡±


    Sion begins to run towards the general. The general smiles wildly as he watches the approach. He enters a defensive stance and waits. Once Sion gets close enough, he leaps towards General Shard, knee pushed forward. The general jabs at the airborne Sion, attempting to stop him short with superior reach. However, Sion pulls back his knee and grabs the blade. Although the blade has been stopped, Sion keeps moving with incredible speed. His body slams into the general¡¯s and they both begin to fall. The general falls on his back as Sion rolls forward off of him, releasing the sword. They both stand up and General Shard looks at Sion.


    ¡°What a cheeky brat you are. Grabbing my sword like that. Not even having a plan for your next move¡­¡± General Shard is still smiling.


    The old general dashes towards Sion. Before Sion can react, faster than he can move, General Shard slashes at Sion¡¯s head. Sion can feel the blade collide with his head. The blow is heavy. Far heavier than any of Sion¡¯s own attacks. Sion was reminded of how monstrous the gulf between them truly was in a single blow. And then he falls into darkness.


    Theyni looks at the sun and sees it hanging high above. She quickly finishes her current task and begins to return to the training ground to collect Sion. As she opens the door to the training ground, she sees the royal guard bunched up together, not training. From an unseen voice, she hears a wailing old man.


    ¡°Sion boy! How could I have done this!?¡± Theyni runs up to the soldiers in a panic. She pats the back of one of the soldiers to get his attention.


    ¡°What happened here? What¡¯s going on?¡± The soldier turns around and takes off his helm to reveal his crying face.


    ¡°The general¡­ They were just training, but then¡­ The general hit the boy in the head! But please don¡¯t blame the general, Theyni! He blames himself enough already! Blame us! We should¡¯ve stopped him!¡± Theyni doesn¡¯t respond as she pushes through the soldiers to reach Sion. She slips between the large and sturdy armors, squeezing between men in silence. She soon finds the source of the grieving cries.


    General Shard cradles Sion¡¯s head in his lap, his sword beside them. Blood drips from his head and onto the general¡¯s pants as it flows towards the stone ground. Sion¡¯s eyes are closed and his body limp. The general is now little more than a weeping old man as he looks at Sion¡¯s face. Theyni is surprised when she sees the two.


    ¡°Grandfather?¡± General Shard looks up at Theyni. He speaks between his sobs.


    ¡°Theyni dear, I¡¯ve killed the boy. I got so excited when I saw how much potential he had. I should¡¯ve nurtured it. But instead I snuffed it out like this. I¡¯ve killed a guest of the royal family, my own student, and my granddaughter¡¯s friend¡­ What a failure of a soldier and a man I am.¡± Theyni falls to her knees next to them, misty-eyed. She places her hand on Sion¡¯s, then sighs.


    ¡°Grandfather, he¡¯s alive. I can feel his pulse. What are you talking about?¡± General Shard touches Sion¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Oh! Greatmother Prodovita, thank you for blessing this young sprout and protecting him! Theyni dear, it¡¯s a miracle!¡± Theyni sighs more loudly as she places her hands above Sion¡¯s body.


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    ¡°I don¡¯t think it was a miracle, Grandfather. I think you just knocked him unconscious.¡± Theyni¡¯s hands begin to glow with a warm light.


    ¡°No. He¡¯s been out for over a minute already. Any fighter worth their salt would¡¯ve gotten up by now.¡± The light covers Sion¡¯s body and sinks into him as the blood stops flowing. Sion sits up and looks around, confused.


    ¡°What happened? I saw darkness and now I¡¯m on the ground. What was that?¡± Theyni answers, as the general is in no state to.


    ¡°My grandfather hit you in the head and knocked you out. You should be fine now.¡± Sion still looks puzzled.


    ¡°Knock out?¡± Theyni looks exasperated as she screams inside, but answers him calmly.


    ¡°If you get hit in the head too hard you might fall over.¡± She moves in closer and speaks quietly, so that no one else can hear her. ¡°It¡¯s what happened to the butler this morning.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Sion stands up, and both General Shard and Theyni follow after him. The general places a hand on Sion¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Boy, you have no talent with the sword. But I would still be proud to teach you all I can.¡± Sion looks at the general.


    ¡°Thank you sir!¡±


    ¡°Now, boy, let¡¯s return to our spar.¡± They both begin to stretch out their bodies as the soldiers disperse. However, before they can clash, Theyni interrupts.


    ¡°No, let¡¯s not. Shouldn¡¯t he rest for a while after getting knocked out? I¡¯d say just let him rest until the head mage arrives.¡± The general looks conflicted, but relents.


    ¡°Fine. Sion boy, take the day off.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± General Shard walks away with a grumble, the soldiers saluting him as he passes by. As Sion begins to leave, Theyni calls out to him.


    ¡°Hold on!¡± Sion turns back to look at her. ¡°I want to apologize for my grandfather.¡± Sion looks confused.


    ¡°Why? What did he do?¡±


    ¡°Well, he¡¯s just¡­ a lot. I can¡¯t imagine it being easy to deal with out of nowhere like that.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a very good teacher. It¡¯s not a problem at all.¡± Theyni looks relieved.


    ¡°That¡¯s good. Anyway, what are you going to do with your break?¡± Sion thinks for a moment.


    ¡°I have business with the bishop.¡± Theyni is surprised.


    ¡°The Bishop of Clea? What sort of business could you have with him?¡±


    ¡°I was given a letter of introduction for him.¡± Theyni¡¯s surprise has only swelled.


    ¡°Wow! I heard rumors that the bishop doesn¡¯t have many guests or keep much company. Are you actually some sort of big shot?¡± Sion shakes his head.


    ¡°No, it was given to me by the priest of my village. He comes to Clea often, so he¡¯d get worried if nobody had seen me. And I need to accept his goodwill properly anyway.¡±


    ¡°It would be bad if your family got worried. Will you send them a letter about what¡¯s happened?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°No problem. You should probably head out now if you want to get to the cathedral and back before the head mage gets here. Do you know which building it is?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Thanks for your help, Miss Theyni.¡±


    ¡°It''s my job after all.¡± Theyni smiles at Sion as he turns to leave.


    Sion, for the first time, steps onto the main street of Clea. The city is bustling at midday, people crowding the streets. To Sion, such a large gathering is unfounded. As people move from storefront to storefront, someone quickly replaces them. If Sion¡¯s eyes were less powerful, he may very well have seen the crowd as throbbing but stationary. Sion watches the people with awe. He remains in this mesmerized state for a few moments.


    As the people slowly move about the street, Sion begins to weave through them. He slips between the tiny gaps in the people undeterred. Stepping lightly, unnoticed by all. Sion walks past the stone buildings, each with their own dash of color, both gaudy and slight. Before a city Clea is a fortress. It is strong. It is tight. It is connected. But also, it is dull. The buildings are all the same gray and barren template, with only minimal additions for individuality. They are unvarnished and practical, stalwart and cold. Sion enters a large clearing with only a few elderly civilians around and an abundance of flowerbeds, a rarity in such a dense city as Clea. Sion takes a deep breath. Before him is Clea Cathedral.


    The building is dissimilar to every other. It is imposing and grand. The sole place sans the castle that stands alone among the city. It rises above the houses and the stores, its walls gleaming with the color of gold. At the front entrance of the church, the face of the wall stretches further and points to the sky. Embedded in the face is a silver star, each point connected by a golden ring and enclosed by a larger one, the symbol of the church. Behind the pointed face is a dome in the ceiling above the sanctuary, topped with a finial mimicking a flower. Branching off from the golden building are two smaller wings only half as tall as the main hall. Although similarly plain, the wings still far surpass the normal buildings in size. The entrance of the cathedral is massive and daunting, towering above any person. Flanking the door on either side is large stained glass depicting a figure. The left depicts a fair woman with light green hair growing a field of flowers from nothing. The right depicts a dark-skinned man with dark green hair surrounded by an emerging forest. The church building is, unlike the rest of the city, designed with grandeur in mind. In the case that Clea was to serve its duty as a bastion and a shelter for the people of Dracabana, the church was to be their reprieve from the disaster that befell them. It is a flower of Dracabana growing amidst a battlefield.


    The doors to the church are large and made of a dark wood. They hang open, carefully positioned not to cover the stained glass. Sion takes a step inside. As he crosses the threshold, the air around him changes. Still. Serene. The world becomes silent, almost eerily so. Sion can feel something wrapping around him, but can see nothing, even with his eyes. He feels a whisper on the air, but can hear nothing. However, strangely, Sion is not unsettled. As he takes another step forward, like a weakening grip, the feeling disappears.


    Sion walks down the aisle, walking past near empty rows of pews. The only parishoners at this hour are the elderly who can no longer work. They hardly take notice of Sion as he walks past them. Sion approaches a man in priest robes sitting with a gentle smile on his face. The priest looks up at Sion and begins to talk with a relaxing tone.


    ¡°Young man, do you need something from me?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir, I¡¯m looking for the bishop.¡±


    ¡°The bishop?¡± Although still smiling, the priest looks surprised. ¡°May I ask the purpose of your visit?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve come with a letter from Father Cynde to the bishop, sir.¡± The priest scans Sion¡¯s face, then nods.


    ¡°I see. I believe Bishop Erd is tending to the flowers. I¡¯ll take you to the garden.¡± The priest stands up and begins to walk.


    He guides Sion through a side passage that leads behind the sanctuary. The hall is well lit, sunlight coming through the many windows. They walk in silence. They quickly emerge into an open space enclosed by walls. Sion can see a door shut closed in one of the walls, presumably leading back out into the city. In the center of the space is a large tree. Surrounding the tree is an incredible number of flowers. They come in all colors, arranged neatly so that no one color overpowers the others. Just barely visible behind the tree, a thin old man wearing an apron is hunched over the flowers. The priest stops where he and Sion stand and begins to speak.


    ¡°Your Excellency Father Erd, I¡¯ve brought a young one who wishes to speak with you.¡± The old man stands and emerges from behind the tree. He looks at Sion before he speaks. His voice is gentle and soft.


    ¡°Father Blost.¡± The old man walks towards the pair, his arms crossed behind his back. He stands dignified in front of Sion. Sion bows his head as he introduces himself.


    ¡°Your Excellency, my name is Sion. I¡¯m from the village ministered to by Father Cynde. He gave me a letter of introduction addressed to you.¡± Sion takes the letter from his bag and hands it to Bishop Erd. The old bishop takes the letter and opens it, barely inspecting Cynde¡¯s seal holding it closed. He reads the first few lines and chuckles softly to himself. He begins to read the letter aloud, his voice now backed with the power of a sermon.


    ¡°Sion, although this is a letter for His Excellency Father Erd, I have asked him to read it aloud to you. I expected my time with you before your departure to be cut short by your father, and so I wrote my message for you here:


    Your Excellency, Sion is one of my beloved students. At the behest of myself and his parents, he has traveled beyond the bounds of our little village and come to Clea to continue his studies. He is curious and often shows wisdom and restraint beyond his years. He has worked himself harder than any other child I have had the pleasure to teach. He is as dedicated to those around him as our own clergy. I do not fear for him, for I know he will get the results he desires. However, at the same time, I cannot help but worry for him. He throws himself wholeheartedly into his work and will work so hard to help others, but I cannot help but fear that he will neglect himself. Although his talent and effort are so great, Sion is still young and immature and in need of guidance.


    Your Excellency, I beseech you to watch over this young bud, as you had for me in my youth. I ask you to support him while he learns in Clea. Whether he finds himself in need of a place to escape to, support in his studies, or instruction in faith, I humbly request that you nurture him however you can.¡± Bishop Erd returns the letter to Sion then places a hand on his cheek. He gives Sion¡¯s face a gentle caress, as though he has known Sion for years and years. Still as though he were preaching, Bishop Erd continues to speak to Sion, now in his own voice.


    ¡°Young Sion, I have of course accepted Father Cynde¡¯s request. My duty as the Bishop of Clea is to give weary souls a respite from their struggles and secure the future of the laity. There would never come a time I refused you. However, I, as an individual, also want to see the future of Father Cynde¡¯s young sprout. My efforts for you have only redoubled. Young Sion, even as you leave for Messis, know that the doors of our cathedral and the gates of our gardens will always welcome you in.¡± Sion looks shocked at the old bishop.


    ¡°Your Excellency, how did you know about that? That I was leaving for Sagax Academy?¡± The old man laughs softly once more.


    ¡°The roots of Clea Cathedral connect all throughout the diocese. There is little that happens in this kingdom, much less this city, that I am not aware of.¡± A gentle smile paints Bishop Erd¡¯s face. ¡°We are all connected. And with that, please allow me to apprise your village of what has happened.¡± Sion bows his head.


    ¡°Thank you, Your Excellency.¡± Sion looks at the flowers and the dirt covering Bishop Erd¡¯s apron. ¡°Can I help you with the flowers?¡± Bishop Erd pats Sion¡¯s head.


    ¡°What a kind boy. I refuse. I rather like tending to the garden and losing myself to my thoughts. And it is about time for you to return to the castle. Be well, Young Sion.¡± At this, Sion is gently lifted by vines and grass. He is moved beyond the short walls enclosing the garden and placed softly on the street. A vine wraps around Sion¡¯s hand, leaving a pressed flower in the back of his hand in its wake. The flower glows with a soft golden light before disappearing. Sion then hears Bishop Erd¡¯s voice in his head, now gentle and soft once more.


    ¡°I¡¯ve given you a protective blessing for your journey. Hurry along back to the castle now.¡± Sion looks down at his hand warmly, then begins to jog back towards the castle.


    As he walks through the castle¡¯s main gate, Sion is greeted by Theyni. She looks surprised at his presence.


    ¡°Wow. You¡¯re right on time. I was just told to come wait for you. I¡¯ll escort you to the head mage, then.¡± Theyni leads Sion into a room that is nearly empty. The only thing furnishing it is a small table with some sort of board atop it. Gathered around the table are an old man in a robe and thick-rimmed glasses, Scima, and Eva.


    As soon as Sion enters the room, the old man begins to beckon him over to the table. When Sion stands over it, he can see the board more clearly. In the board is an eleven-pointed star, each point having a corresponding groove along it. In the center of the star is a slightly raised circular platform, with an orb of spinning liquid silver floating above it. Sion looks at it, confused, as the old man begins to speak.


    ¡°Sion, I am the head mage of Clea. It appears you are unfamiliar with this device, so allow me to explain it to you. This is an Argyraster. It is a device made to measure the strength and potential of a person in the eleven basic forms of arcane magic. Lady Evangelina, if you would be so kind as to give a demonstration.¡± Eva places her hand slightly above the orb of silver. The sphere begins to morph and distort, before melting and spreading out over the star. The silver nearly fills one point to the end, fills another halfway, and barely spreads over the rest. The longest point begins to glow a soft red as the second longest glows a pale silvery blue. ¡°This result shows that Lady Evangelina has a high aptitude in fire magic and barrier magic and is currently much more skilled in fire than with barriers. The length represents the aptitude and the light represents the strength. Do you understand?¡± Sion watches as the silver slinks back up the raised section as it reforms into a sphere.


    ¡°Yes sir. So I just need to place my hand above the silver?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that is correct. We need to know your strengths first so we know what to teach you.¡± Sion nods then places his hand above the silver. As with Eva, the silver ripples and falls over the star. The silver remains in the small raised circle save for one point, which spreads past the star and drapes over the table. The massive point glows as faintly as Eva¡¯s smallest points, the color barely discernible. The head mage stares at the device, flabbergasted.


    ¡°Sion, I have no words for this. I really do not know what to make of this. The device is showing a nearly unprecedented aptitude in sensory magic, although your power is still lacking at the present moment, but almost no aptitude in any other form of arcane magic. I have never seen such a disparity before.¡± The old man turns towards Eva. ¡°Lady Evangelina, in light of this result, I believe there is very little we can do for him in only a week, as regrettable as that is. I recommend that magic instruction be removed from Sion¡¯s schedule for the week and replaced with more time he can spend training his martial strengths.¡± The head mage sighs deeply as the recommendation leaves his lips.


    ¡°I understand. I shall relay that to my father.¡± The head mage turns back towards Sion.


    ¡°I apologize, Sion, but sensory magic, more than any form of arcane magic, takes immense time and patience to bear fruit. We simply do not have the time before you are to leave to train you.¡± He grasps Sion¡¯s shoulder. ¡°But please let us study your power one day. Such an aptitude is a true rarity.¡± Sion, Scima, Eva, and Theyni leave the head mage in the barren room. Eva looks at Sion.


    ¡°Well then, I need to report to my father.¡± She does a slight bow and turns to leave. Theyni taps Sion on the shoulder.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll lead you back to your room now.¡± Theyni turns to leave and Sion turns to follow. Scima turns his head to look at Sion, looks back at Eva, then whips his body around to face Sion.


    ¡°Hold on. Sion, starting tomorrow I¡¯ll be joining your training. I¡¯ll put you through the wringer, so get ready for it!¡± Scima walks after Eva, leaving Sion to return to his room to rest in preparation for the next day of his training.

 Chapter 4

    Sion steps out into the training grounds. General Shard joyfully approaches him, his hands behind his back.


    ¡°Sion boy, I had a great idea for your training today.¡± Behind the old general are a group of awestruck soldiers. Their armor is plaintive and unadorned. ¡°I got ten strapping new recruits for you to fight.¡± One of the soldiers steps forward nervously.


    ¡°Err, General, is he,¡± the soldier points towards Sion, ¡°really the training partner you selected for us?¡± General Shard looks at him.


    ¡°Do you think this¡¯ll be too easy for you?¡± The soldier almost flinches at the latent pressure behind the general¡¯s words.


    ¡°Err, sort of? We feel like the ten of us ganging up against him just won¡¯t be fair.¡± The general looks towards the rest of the soldiers.


    ¡°Really. Do you all feel this way?¡± A wave of anxiety passes through the group of soldiers, but still they answer in unison,


    ¡°Yes sir!¡±


    ¡°All of you line up. Stand at attention.¡± The soldiers look slightly confused and even a little annoyed at the order, but they line up with their backs straight and their bodies unmoving. ¡°Listen well. War is not fair. Fighting on a battlefield like you¡¯re some hero from a fairytale is the privilege of the strong. The most important thing on the battlefield is to come home alive and well. Until you don¡¯t have any other option, you fight to protect your own lives. If you can win a battle with numbers, you do. The weak don¡¯t have time to think about their honor. And even then you need to forget your pride that makes you think a fight will be easy just because you outnumber the enemy. You never know what your enemy might be hiding away. Even in my old age, if all this year¡¯s recruits came at me at once, I would still win. Remember that for as long as you intend to fight for this kingdom. Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡±


    ¡°Good, then prepare to fight.¡±


    The ten soldiers, like ten mirrors, ready their spears. They form up into two orderly ranks, six in the front and four in the back. As though they were on the battlefield, they march forward slowly, prepared to engage with the enemy when they meet. The points of four spears emerge from the back row, each prepared to stab forward from safety. Although they were told how to fight by the general and went through the motions of seriousness, the soldiers still looked down on Sion. They couldn¡¯t conceive of a lone man defeating all ten of them, and didn¡¯t have enough experience to have a fear of death to tell them how to fake it.


    Sion flies forward at his opponents. Whereas they move methodically and with a certain level of organization, he is free and quick, unfaltering before his disadvantageous position. He jumps at the group just as they reach him. The soldiers fumble their spears with uncertainty in their surprise, with the rear four barely even beginning to lift the spearheads. Sion crashes into one of the center soldiers of the front row with his knee. He presses his knee into the soldier¡¯s face and pushes him to the ground between the two soldiers behind him. The two soldiers back away, allowing both their comrade to fall to the ground and Sion to land behind them. Sion lands with his back to the soldiers, taking a moment to reorient himself and make distance between them. Although such an opportune moment had presented itself, not a single one of the soldiers took any step to seize it. Sion had left himself open, yet as if the soldiers hadn¡¯t even realized, he closed himself off again with ease.


    With a hole bored through them so easily, the unprepared soldiers fall out of their ranks. The remaining nine form smaller pairs and trios, losing their previous coordination. Two stragglers remain as Sion locks target. Sion dashes forward, keeping his large body close to the ground. As he rushes towards the nearer of the two soldiers left on their own, Sion passes by the trio of soldiers. As Sion passes by, the soldier lunges forward and stabs with his spear. The spearhead plants itself in the ground behind Sion as he proceeds one-mindedly. The lone soldier raises his sword above his head, preparing to bring it down on Sion just as he enters the range. Sion fast approaches. The soldier holds steady, trying to calm his nerves. As he begins to bring down his blade, Sion appears beneath him. Sion slams his palm into the soldier¡¯s armored stomach, forcing the soldier back with all his might. As the soldier curls up and begins to fall, his grip loosens and the sword drops from his hands. As the sword clatters, the soldier is on the ground trying to steady his breath, a crease in his armor showing where Sion had struck him. Sion rises, straightening his back, as he begins scanning the area for the other straggler.


    Sion locks on and rushes forward. Blocking his path are the remaining two pairs of soldiers. As he passes by the first in line, the soldiers both take swings with their blades. Sion ducks beneath both slashes and keeps running beneath the metal, paying the soldiers no mind. As he passes by the second, the soldiers brandish their spears. One juts out their spear to obstruct the path as the other stabs at Sion. Sion reaches forward without stopping and slaps the spearhead into the ground with the back of his hand. His comrade nullified, the other soldier begins to pull back the spear, hoping to hook into Sion during the return. Sion, however, flips over the shaft, rolling past the two soldiers. Sion keeps running, gently twisting his torso. As he nears, the soldier takes a defensive posture, holding the whole length of his spear over his body. Sion twists violently in the opposite direction, carrying his leg into the air. He spins as he drops his upper body. Sion brings down the top of his foot onto the soldier¡¯s shoulder. The soldier tries to block the strike with his spear, but is only pushed back by the whole force of Sion¡¯s attack. As Sion¡¯s kick crashes down into the soldier, the soldier buckles and falls to the ground, forced down by Sion¡¯s overwhelming might. As he brings his legs back into line, Sion has already turned to face the remaining soldiers.


    The two pairs begin to charge Sion in a panic as the trio stand by, observing. The faster of the two spear wielding soldiers commits to a charging thrust. As the spear flies out towards Sion, he grabs the shaft just beneath the head. He seizes control of the weapon from the soldier, then forces the shaft into its wielder¡¯s stomach. As the soldier recoils, Sion raises his leg straight into the air. He kicks the soldier in the jaw, sending the soldier¡¯s helmet flying. The other soldier then reaches Sion and his comrade. His thrust is deep, overextending to deliver as much force into Sion as possible. As the dulled spearpoint collides with Sion¡¯s stomach, he looses his leg. He drops his heel down onto the back of the soldier. He forces the soldier into the ground with a loud metallic thud, soon followed by the sound of the helmet ringing out as it hits the ground beside the two fallen soldiers.


    Sion charges the other approaching pair. Sion moves in quickly and grabs the closer soldier¡¯s armored face. His long arm bends back as he draws closer to the soldier. The soldier grabs hold of Sion¡¯s wrist and tries to pull it from his face, but he cannot surpass Sion¡¯s iron grip. Sion stretches his leg forward past the soldier, then hooks behind the soldier¡¯s own leg and begins to pull back. Pushed from both sides and losing his balance, the soldier begins to fall to the ground. Sion never let''s go. He wants to make sure that the soldier is brought down with force. Sion then feels a strong blow against his exposed back and shoulder. The other soldier had taken the opportunity presented as one would expect, but Sion doesn¡¯t regard the strike in the slightest. As Sion brings the soldier in his grasp to the ground, he feels another strike on his back from the dulled edge of the blade. From his lower position on the ground, Sion turns and begins to rise, driving his fist into the soldier¡¯s stomach as he does. Once Sion is standing once again, he sweeps the soldier¡¯s leg, dropping him beside his comrade.


    At last Sion begins to rush down the final three soldiers. Despite being the largest group of the disorderly soldiers, they were powerless to stop Sion as he dashed around the training ground. They were only capable of standing around and watching as he brought down each of their allies with a strength that far surpassed their own. However, they still stand prepared, their weapons brandished tightly, their eyes straight ahead. Sion closes the distance quickly, and they all take quick stabs and slashes at him. Sion again shrugs off each blow, still refusing to regard a single one. Sion throws a quick straight punch towards one of the soldiers, striking his chest as the sound of metal rings out. As another soldier attempts to slash at Sion, Sion pulls on the soldier he had struck. The soldier¡¯s blade misses its mark, instead striking his ally, used as a shield by Sion. Sion then moves in between the two soldiers and the one in his grip. He throws the soldier over his shoulder and into the two others. However, only one of the soldiers is hit by their comrade. As metal crashes into metal, the third and final soldier takes a step back, looks at Sion, then looks at his two comrades on the ground. He drops his spear.


    ¡°I surrender.¡± General Shard steps between Sion and the soldier, his face tight.


    ¡°Then this match is over. All of you gather up and stand at attention.¡± The ten soldiers stand back up and gather in front of General Shard. They salute, then lower their arms to stand shoulder to shoulder in one straight line. ¡°First,¡± he points his covered blade at the soldier who had surrendered, ¡°why did you surrender at the end?¡±


    ¡°Sir! I decided that I had no chance to defeat him!¡± The old general doesn¡¯t move.


    ¡°And why did you figure that?¡±


    ¡°I knew I couldn¡¯t compete with him in either strength or skill after watching him take us all down, sir!¡±


    ¡°Then why were you still ready to fight before he had first engaged?¡±


    ¡°We believed we still had a chance if it was three against one, sir!¡±


    ¡°If you understand that much then you ought to understand this. You all had lost any chance of victory the moment your formation broke and you all scattered. You could only ever compete with numbers. The moment you lost that, you lost all hope.¡± General Shard lowers his sword. ¡°You all are dismissed. Return to your regular training drills.¡± Sion and the general wait, watching as the ten soldiers leave the grounds. Once they¡¯ve left, the general turns towards Sion and unsheathes his sword, smacking Sion¡¯s head with the flat of his blade.


    ¡°Sion boy, what was that? It was shameful. Taking hits just because you can? Utterly shameful. A warrior¡¯s skill isn¡¯t measured by how many scars they have but by how few. You didn¡¯t need to take even a single one of those blows, you just got lazy and cut corners. No matter how strong you are, every hit adds up, and eventually they¡¯ll kill you.¡± Sion looks down, eyes full of shame. He does not refute General Shard, does not even respond, he simply hangs his head. ¡°Sion boy, do you know this saying? ¡®Even the Great King Bana would have had another unmarked grave if all he thought about was dragon slaying.¡¯ Until you can show me that you understand why I¡¯m telling you this saying, I won¡¯t let you and Scima boy fight.¡± The old general places a hand on Sion¡¯s head. ¡°Until you can find an answer, it may help to spend time in the city.¡± General Shard turns from Sion and walks off, leaving Sion on his own.


    Sion walks out from the castle gate and into the city. He, as he had yesterday, weaves through the crowds of people. However, he now has no direction. Supposedly, being in the city will help him find an answer, but he barely knows the question.


    He of course understands the proverb, that greatness cannot be born through only force. Historically, there were dragonslayers besides Bana, predating him, contemporary to him, and succeeding him. However, few of their names are still known today, and none with as much esteem as Bana. Bana¡¯s legacy is not of a warrior, but of a king, and therefore the proverb means that regardless of Bana¡¯s martial prowess, he wouldn¡¯t have his legacy if he didn¡¯t create a kingdom as he went. However, Bana still fought, he fought with all his heart, and he fought so that he could become a king. Sion fought to win. He¡¯s figured that he¡¯s likely meant to be looking for something inside of himself, for something that General Shard feels he¡¯s still missing as a warrior. But he cannot piece together how that thing relates to the proverb. He cannot see where he and Bana differ in how they approach battle. Neither of them can afford to lose, and so both of them fight to win.


    Sion hasn¡¯t felt this lost since five years ago. Since he was shown the path before him and saw only darkness. Only this time no light is appearing to him. Sion continues to walk. Walking through the city and through the people. He walks away from the castle, stuck in his mind. He ruminates in silence, paying no other any mind. If he is lacking something, where will he find it? If he is missing something, what in the city will show it to him? Only focusing enough to dodge past the citizens of Clea, Sion is caught off guard by a thud close in front of him. It takes him out of his mind and back to reality.


    In front of Sion is a young boy fallen on the ground, another watching while holding a ball in his hands, and a middle-aged man slumped against a wall. The man is watching with a disinterested expression, a gourd bearing a strange symbol in his muscular hand. Sion tries not to glare at the man as he bends down towards the child on the ground. Sion reaches his hand out to the boy.


    ¡°Can you stand up?¡± Sion asks the boy warmly. The boy takes Sion¡¯s hand and stands. Now that they¡¯re face to face, Sion can see tears welling up in the boy¡¯s eyes. ¡°Are you okay? Did you get hurt?¡± Sion asks the question even though he knows the answer. The boy nods, looking like he¡¯s trying not to cry. ¡°Can you show me where it hurts?¡± The boy nods again as he bends his elbow to show Sion. As the boy winces, Sion gently pulls his arm straight. Sion stares at the injury deeply. After examining the injury, Sion can tell that it¡¯s almost certainly nothing more than a normal scrape. It needs a little cleaning, but there¡¯s nothing that bad otherwise. ¡°Are you hurt anywhere else?¡± Sion glances down towards the boy¡¯s scraped knee. The boy responds, the pain in his voice clear.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°I hurt my knee too.¡± Sion smiles gently as he looks at the scraped knee. Just as with the elbow, there¡¯s nothing serious to worry about. Sion rubs the boy¡¯s head.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to worry about. You just need to wash these off a little and cover them, then you should be good as new in just a couple of days. Can you do that by yourself? Or do you want me to help?¡± The boy shakes his head.


    ¡°I can do it. Thank you mister.¡± The boy is still holding back tears. Sion pats the boy¡¯s head again.


    ¡°That¡¯s good. You¡¯re really strong, you know that.¡± As Sion lifts his hand, the boy starts to walk away. He walks slowly, with a slight limp, holding his elbow. The other boy follows after him, a slightly abated worry on his face. As the two boys walk away, the gentle smile disappears from Sion¡¯s face. He approaches the man who sat there and watched. The man lowers the gourd from his lips and looks at Sion without a care in the world.


    ¡°Good work out there, boy!¡± His voice is cheery and his body is still lax. Sion looks down at the man, irritation clear on his face.


    ¡°Why did you sit there and do nothing?¡± The man looks Sion up and down, then grins.


    ¡°Hey, hey, I knew you would handle it. So serious. So rigid. So tense. You in some kind of rush, boy?¡± Although the man irritates him, Sion cannot help but agree with him here. Rushing around without direction and without thinking is what he had been doing.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter. Why didn¡¯t you help him? He was right in front of you but you didn¡¯t even care.¡±


    ¡°¡®Didn¡¯t care?¡¯ That¡¯s not the least bit charitable, boy. I care just as much as anyone else. But, y¡¯know, sometimes as adults you need to stay back and watch over children gently.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just an excuse for your devil may care attitude. You¡¯re sitting around on the streets drinking when it¡¯s barely noon. Don¡¯t pretend to be a proper adult.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m telling the truth here, boy, I swear! I wanted to see the young sprouts that will inherit the world I make. Nothing more, nothing less.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you need to be drinking?¡±


    ¡°That kids can run around and hurt themselves is the sign of a good era and a good city. That¡¯s something worth celebrating, isn¡¯t it!¡± Sion says nothing, only looking down in irritation. ¡°Boy, you really gotta believe me! I¡¯m only in the city in the first place because I want to see the next generation!¡± Sion¡¯s face softens in confusion. ¡°Y¡¯know, the princess is going to Sagax this year! I want to see what the face of Dracabana¡¯s future looks like!¡± Now that Eva and Sagax have been mentioned, Sion is genuinely intrigued, to the point where he can¡¯t even hide it. ¡°Oh, boy, does that interest you? Then, as a responsible adult, I¡¯ll tell you about it. Y¡¯see, for a long time, Dracabana hasn¡¯t sent a single person to Sagax. And the country is so small¡ªpractically just this one city¡ªthat every other nation has always been eyeing it up. Like hungry dogs they¡¯ve been waiting for the opportunity to attack and take the whole thing. There¡¯s always a chance that an invasion will start up at any moment. So, the princess attending Sagax is really important. If she¡¯s strong and if she can form relationships with the other nations she could stop the wars for her entire lifetime. If she can¡¯t, Dracabana will come to an end. She and whoever else might get sent¡ªI¡¯ve heard they¡¯re sending a young knight too¡ªneed to prove their strength. They need to tell the rest of the world that they won¡¯t go down without a fight. So really, I am only here to see the future of this country.¡±


    Sion holds back a grimace as the importance of his training truly dawns on him. There are so many people who will be affected if he fails, but he¡¯s just wandering around like a lost child. The man looks up at the downcast Sion and continues to speak. ¡°Boy, you¡¯re so tense and rigid. Even down to your soul. There¡¯s no flow. None at all. Boy,¡± The man raises to his feet in one smooth motion, standing even taller than Sion as he takes a sip from his gourd, ¡°you¡¯re not disciplined or straitlaced, you¡¯re a child. A child playing pretend at being an adult. Y¡¯know, all work and no play makes a man weak, doubly so for boys. If you don¡¯t think about taking care of yourself, don¡¯t think about your fight, then you¡¯ll just keep holding yourself back. Kids should be a little selfish and should act a little stupid, y¡¯know. Really, I don¡¯t think you should be holding anything back if you can help it.¡± The man takes another drink as he looks to the sky. ¡°Well, it¡¯s looking like it¡¯s time for me to leave, boy. My name is Rebello Faegen. You can tell me yours once you¡¯ve stopped being a little kid.¡± Rebello begins to walk away at a leisurely pace, taking sips from his gourd as he goes. Sion turns to watch his back.


    ¡°Rebello Faegen, I still don¡¯t accept you, but I have to thank you for what you said to me.¡± Rebello gives a weak wave without turning back as Sion turns to the castle once more.


    As Sion enters the gate of the castle, he turns off the path to the castle proper, instead opting to walk towards the outward facing entrance of the training grounds. Sion is sure that he has an answer for General Shard. Although he knows his answer is empty of what the general really wanted from him, he has an answer. He needs to fight Scima and he needs to keep training right away. He can¡¯t let himself stay merely as strong as he is now. As Sion walks into the training ground and scans for General Shard, Scima spots Sion and walks up to him.


    ¡°You looking for the general? He¡¯s looking for Theyni right now.¡±


    ¡°When will he be back?¡±


    ¡°No idea. See something out in the city?¡±


    ¡°I met an irritating man who sat around watching kids hurt themselves.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s no good. Is the kid okay?¡±


    ¡°I took care of it and it wasn¡¯t anything serious.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re good with kids, huh?¡±


    ¡°I helped look after all the younger kids in the village.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nice. So your village is pretty tight-knit, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Scima watches Sion¡¯s gentle smile.


    ¡°Wanna have our fight now?¡±


    ¡°No, General Shard said he wouldn¡¯t let me.¡±


    ¡°Bah. No point in listening to him when he¡¯s not even here. We just gotta finish before he gets back and then we never tell him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s wrong.¡±


    ¡°Is it really so wrong if nobody gets hurt? Don¡¯t be such a stickler.¡± Sion doesn¡¯t have a response. They both want to fight, and nobody will get hurt, but betraying the general¡¯s trust is still wrong. Even then,


    ¡°Ok. Let¡¯s fight.¡± Scima smiles as he starts walking into the center of the training ground. Sion follows him, and they stand facing each other.


    ¡°Here are the rules: first, no serious injuries; second, we fight until a surrender or a knockout; third, I won¡¯t be using my magic. You can feel free to though.¡± Sion shakes his head without saying anything. As Sion assumes a stance, Scima places a hand on the pommel of his sword. ¡°Let¡¯s begin!¡±


    Scima pulls his blade from the sheathe. He takes two large steps forward as he drags the blade out. As he draws it, he slashes at Sion. As the metal edge flies towards Sion¡¯s face, he bends backwards. He flips over onto his hands as the sword swiftly moves over his body. His arms like springs, Sion throws himself behind Scima. As Sion lands, Scima¡¯s stopped blade continues along a path. The dulled edge smashes into Sion¡¯s side, catching him by surprise.


    Sion side steps away from Scima, clutching his side. He pivots to face Scima as he removes his hand from his body. Quickly Scima closes the distance and makes another swing at Sion. However, rather than block the slash or dodge it as he had before, Sion closes the distance. As Sion steps deeply towards Scima, Scima tries to pull his arm back to realign the blade with Sion. Sion is simply too close, however, and Scima would never be able to strike him with this swing. As Scima sets his arm back for another attack, Sion grabs Scima¡¯s collar. Before Scima can attack, Sion knees his stomach. As Scima recoils from the blow, Sion lets go of him. Sion raises his fists above his head, intending to bring them down on Scima.


    From his lowered position, Scima stabs upwards at Sion¡¯s chest. Seeing the attack clearly, Sion quickly unclenches his fists and grabs the blade. As Sion holds the sword in place, Scima swings his leg and smashes into Sion¡¯s knee. Sion¡¯s leg buckles from the force of the blow. Scima seizes the opening and wraps an arm around Sion¡¯s chest and neck. Before Sion can recover his balance, Scima falls to the ground and drags Sion with him. Scima kneels on Sion¡¯s body, still holding down his chest and shoulder with one hand, pinning him to the ground. Scima punches Sion once in the face before speaking to him with absolute confidence and a cockiness to his voice.


    ¡°Go ahead and surrender.¡± Sion looks unfazed.


    Sion reaches up and grabs both of Scima¡¯s shoulders. Even with Scima¡¯s knee on his stomach and hand on his chest, he forces his head up, and slams it into Scima¡¯s. As Scima recoils from the blow, he removes his hand, freeing Sion¡¯s upper body. Now with both hands open, Sion grabs hold of Scima once more and throws him from his body. Scima falls to the side, off of Sion¡¯s torso. Sion silently turns the tables as he pins down Scima and places a hand on his throat. Now on the ground, Scima makes a quippy remark.


    ¡°Guess I should¡¯ve known better than to fight you on the ground, huh? And what¡¯s with that monstrous strength? But, y¡¯know, you¡¯ve put yourself in a bad position. You can¡¯t seriously hurt me, but I don¡¯t feel like giving up. And even if I can¡¯t swing my sword here, the general trained me so my entire body would be like a blade.¡± Scima straightens out his hand and thrusts it at Sion¡¯s stomach with full force. Sion reacts instinctively and draws back, taking his weight off of Scima enough for him to escape. As the two of them stand back up, Scima taunts Sion. ¡°Just kidding! Good thing you dodged, or that might¡¯ve hurt!¡± Scima draws his blade as he speaks.


    Sion dashes forward and reaches for the wrist of the hand holding the sword. Scima lets him grab it, but throws a punch into Sion¡¯s stomach as he does so. Sion doubles over slightly at the blow, but takes another step closer to Scima while straightening out the held arm. Sion pushes into Scima¡¯s chest with his palm, arm bent back, while still holding Scima¡¯s arm straight. Scima¡¯s face contorts in pain, but he does not stop fighting. He kicks Sion¡¯s knee again, and again Sion buckles. Scima is able to use this moment to escape Sion¡¯s grip and make distance between them. He resheathes his sword and stands in a stance, waiting for Sion with a smile on his face.


    With his eyes, Sion can see magic gathering inside the sheathe. It glows with soft light as it disappears from sight. Sion begins to walk towards Scima, the wispy blue light of his soul magic gathering around his body. As Sion rears back his arm Scima begins to draw his blade. Light bursts out from the sliver of metal that¡¯s been exposed. As they¡¯re about to clash, a yell pierces through the air.


    ¡°Theyni! Get ready to heal these damn brats!¡± Theyni is caught off guard by the sudden order and declaration of violence.


    ¡°Huh!? Grandfather, what are you doing?!¡± As Sion and Scima draw near, General Shard cuts between them. Scima visibly begins to panic at his appearance. As he tries to stop moving, he pushes his sword back into the sheathe.


    ¡°Ah, general, you¡¯re back. Sion has a matter to discuss with you, so I¡¯ll be excusing myself.¡± As Scima tries to make his escape, Shard swings his sheathed blade at his legs, striking both knees several times in rapid succession. Scima falls over from the attack, leaving him open to getting pelted by blows. Scima lays on the ground, battered by the general. As General Shard turns his attention to Sion, he calls out to Theyni.


    ¡°Theyni dear, don¡¯t try to heal Scima boy yet. Let him sit there and think for a bit.¡±


    ¡°Grandfather!¡± An exasperated Theyni calls out.


    As General Shard walks towards Sion, Sion bows his head.


    ¡°General, I¡¯m really sorry that I went against your orders.¡± General Shard brings down his sword once on Sion¡¯s head, then twice on each shoulder.


    ¡°Sit down.¡± As Sion takes a seat on the ground, the general walks back to Scima and picks him up by his collar. He drops him on the ground next to Sion, then calls out to Theyni once more.


    ¡°Alright, Theyni dear, go ahead and heal them now.¡± An almost aghast Theyni crouches near the two of them and begins to heal. Sion heals quickly, and most of his injuries were from the actual fight. He doesn¡¯t move the whole time, but when she finishes he quietly thanks her. On the other hand, Scima takes quite a bit longer as he got quite a bit larger of a beating. After some time spent healing, Scima sits up next to Sion with a smile still on his face.


    ¡°Thanks, Theyni!¡± General Shard rebukes Scima¡¯s cheeriness.


    ¡°Scima boy, have you reflected at all? Do I need to hit you again?¡±


    ¡°No sir.¡± Scima responds solemnly. As she continues to heal him, Theyni asks the general  question.


    ¡°Grandfather, I feel like you went way harder on Scima.¡±


    ¡°What? You think I need to be harsher with Sion boy too?¡±


    ¡°No! I was just wondering why.¡± The general scoffs a little.


    ¡°Scima boy obviously talked Sion boy into it, and then tried to sell him out to save himself. I could tell that Sion boy was repentant, but Scima boy will only learn if I beat it into him.¡± Scima responds indignantly.


    ¡°That¡¯s prejudice! How do you know that¡¯s what happened?!¡± The general begins to glare at Scima, who immediately caves. ¡°Sure, it might be entirely true, but it still feels unfair! It¡¯s the principle of it!¡± General Shard ignores this and turns towards Sion.


    ¡°So, Sion boy, do you really have something to say to me?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir, I have an answer for you.¡± A small smile full of pride grows on the general¡¯s face. ¡°In that fight this morning, I kept on choosing to take hits and I kept on being put in positions where I might get hit. It was an unnecessary risk and it would eventually give me bad habits. The idiom is about how King Bana fought with the future and a goal in mind. He couldn¡¯t afford to slow down from injuries, and he definitely couldn¡¯t let himself die early. That¡¯s what I think you want me to remember.¡± The general¡¯s smile grows larger.


    ¡°Good, good. That¡¯s a passing answer. But while we¡¯re at it, Sion boy, have you found your own reason for fighting?¡± Sion looks slightly downcast.


    ¡°No sir. But I¡¯ll keep looking for one at Sagax.¡± Sion¡¯s blue eyes glow with determination as the old general chuckles lightly.

 Chapter 5

    ¡°Sion, your examinations shall begin shortly.¡± Sion sits before the old man, Prime Minister Geard. Geard looks down at Sion behind his round glasses, his aged face showing his displeasure at the situation. No matter the feelings of King Rihtwis, he cannot find it in himself to trust Sion. Even if the illustrious General Shard has taken a liking to him in this short week, how is he meant to believe in a wanderer who has simply appeared before them. To Geard, Sion¡¯s appearance was too convenient. As long as Sion might still be a spy or a trap set by their enemies, Geard cannot give him free rein. He would have preferred for Sion to simply fail the training from the outset. Although it displeases him that he now has to make it so, these tests will be a farce. No matter what happens, Geard intends to find cause to fail Sion here.


    ¡°Yes sir.¡± Sion responds unknowingly, instead simply believing in himself and his strength.


    Geard has decided to simply observe the examinations, and so the two wait for the arrival of the first examiner. After several idle minutes, a man in formal wear enters the room. He bows to Geard.


    ¡°Greetings, Prime Minister Geard. I am the examiner for academics.¡± He turns towards Sion and begins to approach. Geard moves further away as the examiner takes a seat across from Sion. ¡°This will be an oral examination. I¡¯ll give you the results for each question as you answer.¡± Sion nods in acknowledgement. The examiner begins the first test.


    ¡°We¡¯ll begin with ancient history. Question one: describe the first major era of civilization.¡±


    ¡°The first known era is the Divine Era. It was when the gods still appeared in the realm of mortals. Due to their closeness to the divine, humanity at the time was able to develop quickly both magically and technologically. However, very few remnants of their civilization still exist today, with those remnants only being assumed to be of the Divine Era due to their superiority to modern technology and mention in less ancient texts, which is also where most of our information on the era comes from.¡±


    ¡°Very good, I¡¯ll give full marks for that answer. Question two: what caused the downfall of the Divine Era?¡±


    ¡°A war had broken out between the gods, and our world was the battlefield. A large number of people died in the crossfire and many structures were destroyed. Lord Creogeno pitied us, so he instituted the Pact of Heavenly Isolation, which cut off any connection between heaven and earth.¡±


    ¡°Again, very good. Question three: how did the gods intervene in humanity after the Pact of Heavenly Isolation?¡±


    ¡°The gods granted power to heroes and their Chosen and had them fight on behalf of humanity in accordance to their will. The most notable of these heroes received worship and ascended to godhood themselves.¡±


    ¡°Very good, this marks the end of ancient history. Next we¡¯ll look at contemporary history. Question four: give an overview of King Bana¡¯s dragonslaying expeditions.¡±


    ¡°At a relatively young age, Great King Bana fought the dragon ruling over his small village and killed it. After several more years of training, Great King Bana adventured out into the world and gathered up allies. They then roamed the continent and killed more dragons, liberating more regions and gaining more manpower and resources. On these expeditions, which lasted less than a decade, Great King Bana and his party killed three of the Dragon Monarchs and at least fifty of the lesser Dragon Lords. Afterwards, the remaining Dragon Lords fled the continent, leaving the First Empire of Dracabana to be born.¡±


    ¡°Good. Question five: give an overview of the Prismatic Orders and the Flowering Crown Accords.¡± After answering the previous four questions so easily and so quickly, Sion falls silent. His face contorts as he racks his brain, going through all the information he was given by Father Cynde. After close to a minute, Sion offers an answer.


    ¡°The Prismatic Orders were knights, and they fought each other for a long time. They cut up Dracabana even more when they did. The purple one won, and they created the Flowering Crown Accords to stop future wars. But they couldn¡¯t actually stop any new wars.¡± The examiner looks a little pleased at Sion¡¯s difficulty answering, gently chuckling to himself as he responds.


    ¡°Well, I suppose you don¡¯t know much when it¡¯s not ancient or about Dracabana. That¡¯s no good, but many of my peers are like that too. You were more or less correct overall, but lacking several key details, I feel. Firstly, the Prismatic Orders were born of the dissolution of the Lionheart Order. It¡¯s also important to note that the orders had aligned themselves with the seven most powerful nations at the time, and that was why they were fighting. This is just a small thing, but the ¡®purple one¡¯ was the Ioeides Order. And the last major point I¡¯d add to is that it was the nation who backed them that created the accords, and they had stripped themselves of the power needed to enforce it efficiently by making them an equal member.¡± Sion watches the examiner closely as he explains these things, making sure to absorb as much of it as he can. Seeing his curiosity so clearly, a small smile grows on the man¡¯s face. ¡°We¡¯ll return to Dracabana for this question. Give an overview of the birth of the Second Empire of Dracabana.¡± Sion, contrary to the examiner¡¯s expectation, still looks as though he is struggling for an answer here, although the answer does come faster.


    ¡°First, a giant kingdom emerged. The kingdom lasted a long time, leading to their last king, King Johnathan giving territory to King Libban of Dracabana. King Libban was invaded by many other nations and defended against each one, taking territory from each. This grew Dracabana back into an empire that prospered for many generations after.¡±


    ¡°Once again, a fine enough answer, but lacking some important details. King Johnathan had most of his lands seized by his chancellor and his nobles, so it was only the small part of the kingdom he still controlled after it split in three that he gave to King Libban. The first two nations to attack the new Dracabana were those two other parts of the kingdom. Another thing worth noting is that King Johnathan¡¯s kingdom possessed incredibly powerful trade networks, which, after absorbing the rest of the kingdom, were controlled by Dracabana. This is the reason that other nations had decided to try their hand at invading, as they assumed Dracabana wouldn¡¯t yet have the strength to defend itself. This last thing isn¡¯t important per se, but it¡¯s a fact I personally have a liking for. After King Johnathan abdicated and gave his lands to Dracabana, he remained a close advisor of King Libban and they became sworn brothers.¡± Sion nods as he listens. ¡°Next we¡¯ll discuss magic. Question seven: What are the mechanics behind each class of magic?¡±


    ¡°For divine magic, you affect external mana around you without using any internal mana. This is almost always done through prayer or wishes, though some really powerful priests just need the will. Chosen, being given a small amount of divine power, can also control external mana just with their own will, but they¡¯re usually limited to just their divine domain. Bloodline magic just uses internal mana, without using any external mana. It feels like your body just spends mana directly to cause magic. Arcane magic uses formulas and internal mana to reform external mana, which causes magic.¡±


    ¡°Very good. Question eight: when did the modern systems we use for magic first emerge?¡± The examiner looks a little proud of himself for this curveball question back towards history.


    ¡°The Mystic Era. Some old and powerful mages can even trace their master¡¯s all the way back.¡± The examiner sighs.


    ¡°I suppose that even if you aren¡¯t expecting it, this is still a simple question. Let¡¯s move on to geography. Question nine: Give an overview of each of Dracabana¡¯s neighbors.¡±


    ¡°The entire east side of Dracabana and a large portion of the south is bordered by The Great Wastes. Even though different nations claim parts of the wastes as territory, nobody is able to control it. This has two reasons. The first is the presence of many dangerous monsters. The average level of strength in the wastes is so high it¡¯s hard to maintain anything there. Most nations have forts on the border just for defending from the monsters. The second reason are the Void Walkers, who will raid and dismantle any attempts at a settlement or permanent building for the resources.¡± Sion looks deep in thought as he tries to recollect the next bordering nation. ¡°The rest of the south, the west, and some of the north is bordered by the Sunnestead Empire. I know it¡¯s a large and powerful nation, but not much else.¡± The examiner chuckles.


    ¡°I suppose they¡¯re a fairly insular empire. They haven¡¯t done much, despite their power, so no surprise you don¡¯t know much.¡± The examiner chuckles as he gestures for Sion to continue.


    ¡°Dracabana¡¯s third neighbor is the Kingdom of Saturgranum. They¡¯re really good at farming and they trade with a lot of fruits, vegetables, and other crops. It¡¯s also where Sagax Academy is.¡± The examiner can feel something burning inside of Sion when he names Sagax. He stands up and faces Geard.


    ¡°Prime Minister, although I have only asked these many questions, I¡¯ve come to a decision on Sion¡¯s academic prowess.¡± Just from watching, Geard knows what he¡¯ll say next. However, this doesn¡¯t stop him from hoping he¡¯ll declare Sion a lost cause. That he¡¯s decided that Sion wouldn¡¯t be able to make it in Sagax. That he¡¯ll give a proper reason to send Sion away right here and now. ¡°As much as I hate to say it,¡± foolishly, Geard gets his hopes up for just a moment, ¡°I can¡¯t imagine Sion having too hard a time even at Sagax. Not only is he already quite learned, he¡¯s still very curious. We¡¯d be blessed to have him at our own academy. So blessed that it crossed my mind that I could fail him now and keep him here. But what kind of educator would I be if I started holding my students back?¡± The examiner chuckles again. ¡°Is that all, Lord Geard?¡± Geard waves the examiner off dejectedly, and the examiner leaves with a slight hop in his step.


    Geard is troubled that now even the headmaster of Clea Academy has rated Sion highly. With so many prominent people speaking in favor of him, it becomes so much harder to reject him outright. Yet Geard still cannot trust in Sion. There is something Geard sees in Sion that unnerves him greatly, although he still cannot pinpoint it exactly. Geard desperately does not want to let this unknown element go out into the world, especially not bearing Dracabana¡¯s name on his back, but still he cannot find an excuse to stop him from doing so. He turns and speaks to Sion.


    ¡°That is the first exam complete. We will break for lunch. Your next exam will be in the training grounds.¡± Geard exits the room, leaving Sion alone. Sion walks out of the room, not knowing what to do next, so he heads to the training grounds early.


    Sion looks overhead at the sun straight above. It certainly is noon already, although he feels he¡¯s accomplished little by so late in the day. As Sion looks up thoughtlessly, covering his eyes in the shadow of his hand, he hears soft footsteps approaching his back. He turns quickly to see Scima behind him. Scima looks completely innocent, making it strange why he had approached so quietly.


    ¡°We¡¯re discussing the strategy for you and the general¡¯s fight.¡± Scima turns and leaves. Sion follows.


    Scima leads Sion out into the fields between the two walls of the castle. Beneath one of the few lone trees that stand here, General Shard and Theyni sit on a blanket. When Scima sits down, he begins eating from the basket of food placed in the middle of the blanket. Although he said it was a strategy meeting, it is a picnic before anything else.


    The four of them eat in silence. They eat as though they have no interest in anybody sitting beside them. The sun is still bright, even in the shade of a tree. Theyni alone is unnerved by how solemn a meal they were taking. Although a fight was soon to follow, it was little more than a rote spar, only now with an august onlooker in the audience. She half-nervously looks between Scima, Sion, and her grandfather, hoping one of them will soon finish eating and begin speaking. Scima finishes eating first. He begins speaking even as the others eat.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the best way for the general to lose to Sion?¡± General Shard nearly starts choking at the suggestion, Theyni turning towards him with worry. Sion doesn¡¯t react, remaining polite and stoic as he eats, although he too was shocked at the thought.


    ¡°What is Scima saying?¡± Sion thinks to himself, his face still not betraying his confusion. ¡°General Shard is way too strong for something like that. Who would be fooled by a victory against him? He¡¯s even stronger than dad.¡± Sion scans the blue panel for General Shard to study it, as he had been during their more recent training. Whereas both Sion and Scima¡¯s skills are expressed with numbers around five to eight, with their most used just reaching two digits, the general¡¯s skills in combat are deep within that, each greater than sixty, some surpassing seventy. ¡°And he has hundreds and thousands of times more experience than either of us. I¡¯ve never seen anything that I could imagine beating the general, much less doing it myself.¡±


    General Shard clears his throat and swallows down the food in his mouth.


    ¡°Scima boy, what kind of nonsense are you spewing?¡± Scima responds quickly, as though he had prepared his answer beforehand.


    ¡°Just think about it, general. You already know that Sion is strong enough. This exam is just to prove it to that old man, so if you lose he¡¯ll definitely agree. And it¡¯s not like that old man is skilled enough to see through it either.¡± General Shard sighs.


    ¡°What an insolent brat you are. And Geard probably could tell. He¡¯s a jurist, so he¡¯s used to seeing through lies and acts. And even beyond that, my pride doesn¡¯t allow that. I refuse to make myself lose and I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve made Sion strong enough for him anyway.¡± Although it doesn¡¯t show on his face, Sion is happy to hear that sort of confidence in him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Something¡¯s felt off about that old man since Sion came. It feels like we have to show him something incredible to me. Sion? Any thoughts?¡± As Sion finishes eating, he clasps his hands together for several seconds, still remaining silent and expressionless. He responds the moment his hands disconnect.


    ¡°Nobody would fall for your plan. General Shard is too strong for that sort of trick. Even if I came close to winning, he could just hold back a little less. It¡¯s best to just be honest and hope it comes through.¡± Scima sighs with disappointment.


    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s think about how Sion should fight to look the best then. General, any weaknesses he should be exploiting?¡± General Shard begins to stroke his white beard.


    ¡°I have a tendency to slow down when I¡¯m trying not to hurt my students too badly. So that I don¡¯t hit them over and over again all at once.¡±


    ¡°But you hit me over and over again all the time.¡± Scima responds. The general focuses in and looks straight at Scima.


    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re a brat who won¡¯t learn anything until I beat it into your thick skull.¡± Before Sion can retort, Theyni speaks up.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Grandfather has been feeling some pain in his hip lately.¡± General Shard looks at his granddaughter with a feeling of betrayal on his face.


    ¡°Theyni dear, I¡¯m not some old geezer who could be taken down just because he¡¯s gotten too old.¡± Scim leans closer to Sion, but continues to speak at the same volume.


    ¡°So, Sion, the general is slow, lethargic, and pained in his old age. Is that enough for you to work with?¡± General Shard smacks Scima on the head as Sion answers him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need anything. I think that just fighting as I would should be enough. There¡¯s no point in winning with tricks.¡± The general looks at him gently.


    ¡°Sion boy, you¡¯re such a good kid. If only Scima would learn a little from you.¡± He speaks without any regard for Scima right in front of him. ¡°Scima¡¯s always causing trouble and jumping right to violence. Where did I go wrong with him?¡± Sion looks confused as Theyni answers him.


    ¡°When Scima was brought into the barracks as a prospective soldier, His Majesty King Rihtwis ordered Grandfather to raise him up as a personal guard for Lady Eva.¡± Sion nods as General Shard continues.


    ¡°Even though I¡¯ve spent a lot of time teaching Theyni too, she never acts violent like that.¡± Scima nods in enthusiastic agreement. Sion looks slightly confused by this.


    ¡°No, on the fir¡ª¡± Sion stops talking when he meets Theyni¡¯s eyes. She¡¯s glaring at him, silently ordering him to speak no further. When Sion stops, Theyni responds to her grandfather.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯s all bad. Scima is always ready to fight when he needs to.¡±


    ¡°And when he doesn¡¯t need to.¡± After General Shard responds, there¡¯s a small lull in the conversation. Scima finally pushes through with a retort.


    ¡°At least I¡¯m not lazing around like an old man.¡± He looks straight at General Shard. As he rears back to smack Scima again, Sion glances up at the sun.


    ¡°Oh, the sun¡¯s gone down a little. Do you think we should go to the training grounds?¡± The general stops himself, saving Scima, and glances up towards the sun as well.


    ¡°I suppose we should, Sion boy.¡± General Shard stands up quickly, stymieing a grimace as he feels pain in his hip. Sion stands next, then Scima, then Theyni. The three of them follow General Shard back to the training ground.


    As the four enter the training ground, Geard greets them with a soldier by his side.


    ¡°General Shard, you¡¯re here. I was just about to send out a soldier,¡± he gestures at the soldier who is looking for a moment to break away, ¡°to inform you that it is time for Sion¡¯s exam.¡± The general nods in response as he continues past Geard towards the center of the training ground. Sion, Scima, and Theyni still follow after him, ignoring the prime minister entirely. Geard turns to follow the group. At a certain point, Sion steps closer to the center of the training ground and both Scima and Theyni stop.


    When Sion and General Shard face each other, Geard begins to speak to the general.


    ¡°You better not hold back because he¡¯s your student.¡± General Shard scoffs slightly. Geard has heard of the general on the battlefield but has only known him as a rough-around-the-edges but kind old man. Even though he knows it won¡¯t happen, he hopes that the general beats Sion into the ground.


    General Shard places a hand on the hilt of his sword. Sion raises his fists. Geard watches them, then comes to a sudden realization.


    ¡°Wait! Wasn¡¯t he meant to be instructed in the sword!?¡± Geard looks to General Shard, who looks back at him with a confused expression. He quickly realizes what has happened.


    ¡°Oops, did we forget to report it?¡± The general does not look apologetic.


    ¡°This sort of behavior can¡¯t be allowed!¡± Geard hoped to seize this opportunity now and stop himself from seeing yet another thing he wouldn¡¯t be able to deny. ¡°If Sion here cannot use a sword up to the standard that would be expected of him¡ª¡± Scima cuts Geard off.


    ¡°Old man, Sion is strong enough for you. If you try and stop him for such a stupid reason, then I¡¯ll stay here too.¡± Although Scima in one part wants to defend and support Sion, he also wants to give Geard a hard time. Geard has never been able to understand Scima, and so he has no choice but to back down here, unless he wants to run the risk of weakening Dracabana¡¯s image because of something so minor and foolish.


    ¡°Very well. I accept this change to Sion¡¯s training.¡± Sion and General Shard set themselves back into their stance as they face-off. Geard looks between the two of them. ¡°Begin!¡±


    As Geard calls out, General Shard pounces. In just a moment he stands in front of Sion, deep within his reach. In the next, his sword is drawn, flying straight towards Sion. Suddenly, Sion drops down, crouching in front of the general. As the general¡¯s blade passes above Sion¡¯s head, he turns his wrist. He brings down the edge of his sword and smacks Sion in the head with it.


    ¡°Your head was split. One death.¡± Sion shivers as General Shard says this.


    For the past week, the general has been teaching Sion self-preservation in the heat of battle. Their spar would reset completely at the first of the general¡¯s ¡°fatal strikes,¡± with him declaring that Sion was now ¡°dead.¡± If there should have been too large an injury, the fight ended right there. Sion understood the general¡¯s intention in naming this ¡°death¡± the first. The general was planning to ¡°kill¡± Sion, over and over again, counting and noting each one, unless he could prove himself to Geard.


    In the tiny window in which Sion processed what had happened, General Shard pressed the tip of his sword into Sion¡¯s forehead. Sion is knocked back slightly, almost falling out of his squat.


    ¡°Too slow. Two deaths.¡± The general swings his blade at Sion¡¯s head once more. As it draws near, Sion grabs it. General Shard begins to pull his sword free from Sion¡¯s grip. Sion plants one foot forward and begins to stand. As he rises, his fist bursts forward and slams into the general¡¯s stomach. Taking his sword with him, the general is sent back.


    General Shard dashes forward. He lowers his body and slashes at Sion¡¯s legs. He sweeps Sion¡¯s legs and knocks him off balance. Sion flips himself back on his hands to catch his balance and make distance between them. As his back faces the general, the general pokes into Sion¡¯s back with his sword. Sion can feel the force of the blow, but maintains his balance.


    ¡°You left yourself open. Three deaths.¡± Sion holds himself near the ground on all fours, looking up at General Shard. When the general takes a step forward, Sion springs into action. Holding his body up with his hands, Sion swings his legs towards General Shard. The general stops moving.


    ¡°Sion boy, I¡¯m not in your range.¡± As the general stands still, watching Sion¡¯s leg, waiting for it to pass by him ineffectually, Sion¡¯s leg begins to glow softly. At the moment right before his leg passes the general, Sion¡¯s leg begins to burst with soft blue light. It trails behind him and sits in the air as it begins to dissipate. The light gathers and extends out further beyond his foot. The general is just barely able to notice the attack and shifts his body slightly as the solid light smashes into his arm and turns to mist. As the extension vanishes, General Shard begins to laugh uproariously.


    The light, as it stops gathering at his leg, clings to Sion¡¯s entire body. As he twists his body to plant his leg back on the ground, then spins to face the general once more, the light trails off his body. It hangs in the air and rises as mist. Beyond simply having been strong and effective, Sion¡¯s soul magic was a spectacle. General Shard looks at Geard as his laughter subsides.


    ¡°Geard, is that enough for you? Or should I kill him a couple more times?¡± Geard, without his noticing, had let his displeasure slip. General Shard, at the very least, has realized what he wanted in these exams. Geard looks at the blue mist enshrouding Sion. He knows he doesn¡¯t have deniability.


    ¡°No, Sion has shown enough for me. This exam is over. The next and final exam shall be in several hours, a short while after sunset.¡± Geard turns and leaves for the inside of the castle. General Shard¡¯s hand cuts through the last remains of the mist and rests on Sion¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Sion boy, that was a good kick.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Scima approaches the two, Theyni trailing behind him.


    ¡°Two down, one to go. The last one is manners?¡± Scima sighs. ¡°I don¡¯t see the point of the old man¡¯s tests. I¡¯m no good at manners, but he¡¯s not getting in my face about it. Why¡¯s he got it out for you, Sion?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he has anything against me, he just doesn¡¯t trust me.¡± General Shard looks at Scima.


    ¡°Ignoring the fact that Sion is more trustworthy than you, you have better etiquette than him.¡±


    ¡°Huh? No way, he¡¯s definitely nicer than me.¡±


    ¡°Etiquette and manners aren¡¯t about being a good person. They¡¯re about following a set of rules so that nobles can pretend they¡¯re better than everyone else. And Sion doesn¡¯t know the rules well. And you at least play pretend at being polite when you¡¯re with Lady Evangelina.¡± Scima lowers his gaze slightly.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Theyni cheerfully speaks to Sion.


    ¡°Well, with how you¡¯ve done so far, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine even if you mess up a little here.¡± General Shard turns to Sion.


    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about that. I don¡¯t know why, but it feels like Geard just wants to reject Sion. I think he¡¯ll jump at the chance to fail you for something stupid if he can.¡±


    ¡°Why would he want to do that?¡± Sion asks.


    ¡°No idea. Even if me and him have had our differences, and even if I quite frankly don¡¯t like him, he¡¯s always been fair. It¡¯s strange how much he doesn¡¯t want you to succeed.¡± General Shard ponders the thought for a second. ¡°Maybe he thinks you¡¯re a spy? You did just appear from nowhere I hear. But that only explains so much. Back in my days of active service, I never let a spy past me. So I¡¯d say that my trust counts for something, at least. Anyway, Sion boy, watch out in case he¡¯s planning something strange and be on your best behavior.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir, I¡¯ll try my best.¡±


    And so Sion goes off towards the final battlefield Geard has prepared for him.


    After several hours pass, Sion enters an attached building to the side of the castle. This building, though grand and impressive in its own right, pales to the castle itself. The basic decor is the same, it is clear the two buildings are joined, but the adornment has been entirely pared down. Where the main building of the castle, where the royal family and their guests of honor reside, has armors, weapons, and paintings displayed, this building has only flags and simple banners.


    A maid leads Sion into a hall. The hall is empty save for him, the maid that had led him there, and another maid already waiting there. There is a large table in the center, with the head of the table alone set for dining, and large pillars set with glowing stones lining it. Sion scans the room, but cannot find anything. No hiding places, no spots to observe from, no signs of Geard at all. The two maids join and quietly discuss something to themselves. Sion waits in silence for them to finish before he asks his question.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Geard?¡± The maid on his right, the one who had been waiting in the hall, answers.


    ¡°That¡¯s Prime Minister, sir Sion. And the Prime Minister has delegated the task of assessing you to us.¡± Sion looks doubtful, and throws a glance at a wall.


    ¡°Is that really so?¡±


    Behind the wall Geard runs cold. Before Clea had become the capital city of Dracabana, Clea Castle had much fewer servants and very few guests. Clea, as a fortress city, was wary of any visitors in case of subterfuge, and they would typically cordon them off from the main building in what has now become the servant¡¯s building. In order to investigate any suspicious guests, many walls throughout the building are one-way glass walls, appearing normal in the room, yet allowing observation from another. These rooms have since been sealed off, but for this occasion Geard has opened one. Sion should have no way of knowing about these trick walls, and yet Geard could have sworn that he and Sion had locked eyes. Sion turns away quickly, however.


    ¡°So, what do I do?¡± Sion asks.


    ¡°Just go through the process of eating a meal.¡± Sion nods, then walks to the set head of the table.


    Sion steps behind the chair. He places a hand at the top of the chair back. He pulls one side back, creating an opening for him to enter from. He sits in the chair, realizes the distance to the table, then stands slightly and pulls the chair back in.


    As he sits, one maid places soup in front of him and another pours him water from a lightly decorated pitcher. Sion leans forward slightly and begins to eat the soup. From the corner of his eye, Sion can see both maids clearly. Neither of them show any issue with his eating.


    Meanwhile, from behind the trick wall, Geard is despairing.


    ¡°Oh! He¡¯s eating improperly! What would the other nations think!¡± Geard catches himself. Despite his plans, Geard has already come to realize that he cannot deny Sion¡¯s ability nor his character in truth. He already knows that he has no real desire to keep Sion from Sagax. However, a prideful and stubborn old man he is, and he does not want to admit to himself that he was entirely wrong, and that his senses have seemingly dulled so greatly that he would misread Sion so severely.


    The two maids whisper something to themselves as they watch Sion eat, then together move back towards another room to bring more food for the exam. It was then that several things occurred, all in quick succession.


    First, magic from all around the room gathered at the lowest and highest crystal of the pillar nearest to the two maids. The magic, as magic typically is, was completely invisible save to Sion. Sion, although he was struggling to eat with proper etiquette already, was devoting mental resources to keeping watch of the room around him. He saw when the magic around the room began to move towards the two crystals, and so he turned to look at the pillar. Although he still feigned focus on eating correctly, he was watching the pillar. Then, as the maids pass by, a ring of electricity passes through the stone pillar and hits the maids, causing them to begin to collapse. At this, Sion begins to stand. As the maids begin to fall to the ground, a loud yet unseen explosion is heard. The sound booms around the hall loudly, and at this Geard has realized that something is terribly wrong. Geard now rushes to exit the room behind the trick wall. While his back is turned the pillar begins to shudder and gently sway. As Geard pulls open the door and walks through it, the pillar begins to collapse. Sion stands sharply, knocking his chair to the ground. He dashes to the maids and the falling pillar. As Sion runs, the two maids fall fully to the floor, the pillar plummeting towards them. Sion drops his body as he draws near to them, forcing himself between the pillar and the ground. As Geard swings open the door to the hall, he sees Sion, his hands on the pillar, and the pillar resting across his upper back. Geard looks shook to the core.


    ¡°What has happened here? Is everyone okay?¡± Sion looks at the maids beneath him then weakly turns his gaze up at Geard.


    ¡°These two need to be moved¡­ I can¡¯t drop the pillar without hurting them¡­¡± Geard quickly approaches and gently drags the two unconscious maids out from under Sion. As he does, he looks at Sion, straining beneath the weight of the stone pillar. As he does, he finally finds what about Sion he had found so unnerving. Once the maids are no longer in danger, Sion slips out from under the pillar, letting it crash into the ground as it would have without him. Sion stretches his arms above his head.


    Geard¡¯s class is ¡°Justice,¡± a high level class within the ¡°Jurist¡± tree. One of his most unique abilities is ¡°Eye of the Scales,¡± a strange power that essentially allows its user to see motive. The exact mechanics are more nebulous; when a creature takes actions for a selfless or a selfish purpose, the glow of a circle visible only to the user changes. If selfless, a creature will glow green, and if selfish it will instead glow red. It can see this both in regards to a specific act or event, but also in regards to an entire lifetime. Almost every creature, even non-human creatures, have this glow. The only exception Geard has ever seen was Bishop Erd, who rather than a glow had a golden garden of flowers. With this power, a proper court trial, and an experienced judge, it is possible to very accurately ascertain both the guilt and the motive of a defendant, and adjust their punishment as due.


    Geard had been doubtful of Sion from the start. Even when others spoke highly of him, Geard had trouble believing them. He hadn¡¯t known the reason until he had seen him act for the sake of others. He could tell that Sion had struggled to protect others simply because that¡¯s how he is. That¡¯s what his long experience as a judge had told him. And yet, ¡°Eye of the Scales¡± saw nothing. There was no change, no glow. Sion was empty in his eyes. Geard had let himself be fooled by his eyes. Geard had forgotten something so simple and basic as facing people properly. He begins to laugh at his own foolishness in not realizing sooner, and in all of his behavior that stemmed from that.


    ¡°Young Sion,¡± he begins jovially, ¡°You have passed. Certainly and with flying colors. We are honored to have a young man of your character and ability represent our nation. Do well in Sagax, and support Sion and Eva diligently. That is all else I have to ask of you.¡± Sion responds while still stretching out his body.


    ¡°Yes¡­ sir.¡±

 Chapter 6

    Sion is brought into the throne room, following behind a rushing Geard. King Rihtwis sits on his throne, Eva standing to his side. On one side of the hall is General Shard, accompanied by Scima, who stands slightly behind him. Geard takes a position on the opposite side, and Sion, confused by the current situation, simply follows after him. King Rihtwis remarks on their presence.


    ¡°Geard, Young Sion, it is good to see you. Have the exams gone well?¡± Across the hall General Shard and Scima wave at Sion. Ignoring them, Geard answers.


    ¡°Ah, yes, I have no objection to Sion attending Sagax Academy as a part of our national delegation,¡± the general and Scima give a quick shout in celebration. ¡°However, I have a much more pressing matter to bring to your attention, Your Majesty.¡± King Rihtwis looks to General Shard, who has no objection.


    ¡°Very well, Geard. What has happened?¡±


    ¡°There was an attack set in the servant¡¯s building. It toppled a pillar and nearly crushed two maids, if not for Sion.¡± King Rihtwis¡¯ face hardens as General Shard responds to the report.


    ¡°May be connected to our discussion. What do you think, Your Majesty?¡±


    ¡°It seems so, Heleo. My darling Evangelina, can you apprise Geard and young Sion of the current situation?¡± Eva looks caught off guard by her father, but collects her thoughts quickly.


    ¡°For the past day or so, attacks on carriages leaving the city have increased greatly. This morning, a notice was hung up around the city. It reads: ¡®We are the ones attacking everyone leaving the city. We will not stop until we have the head of Princess Evangelina or 10 kilograms of gold or something as valuable. You cannot escape.¡¯ We thought they may just be powerful brigands, but it appears they may not be the case.¡± Geard looks pensive.


    ¡°General Shard, has an investigation already begun?¡±


    ¡°It has, but it¡¯s turned up nothing. We could track the fliers to the guy¡¯s who put them up, but they were all dead in some alley. We¡¯ve shored up defenses near the gates too, but the attacks haven¡¯t stopped.¡±


    ¡°Do we have any estimate on these brigands¡¯ strength?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. Any well defended caravan hasn¡¯t been attacked. They¡¯ve only been hitting the ones they could beat without any losses, so we can¡¯t tell anything.¡±


    ¡°How should we handle this situation?¡±


    ¡°I was going to say brute force until you showed up. We can¡¯t be taking hasty actions if we have a rat in the castle.¡±


    ¡°Should we move forward under the assumption that this traitor is a member of these brigands or just a pawn to be used and thrown away?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say. Sion boy, you were the only one here that witnessed the attack. Do you have any thoughts?¡± Sion thinks back to the exploding pillar, searching for any hints that may have been in that attack.


    ¡°The way the spell works makes me think they weren¡¯t trying to cause any mass destruction. The spell sucked up all the magic in the room to activate, so even if the same spell was rigged into the other pillars, only one could go off.¡± The general processes the new insight.


    ¡°Then this rat of ours may be a red herring instead. They might be trying to divert our attention to finding the traitor while they get time to prepare. And if this rat made sure to minimize the damage, they might just be a sacrificial lamb for the real enemy.¡± Scima interjects.


    ¡°Then it would be in our best interests to pursue the actual organization behind all these attacks. However, I have one worry. It¡¯s possible that the goblins who attacked us a week ago were another attack from this organization. It¡¯s clear from their notice that they¡¯re thinking about our departure in their attacks. They want to make sure Lady Eva cannot escape them. So is it not also possible that they were the ones behind the first attack as well? And if they were, then this organization may be more dangerous than we think.¡± Sion is slightly off-put when he sees Scima so collected and proper. General Shard visibly turns over Scima¡¯s theory in his head.


    ¡°We certainly can¡¯t rule the idea out. It may be in our best interest to move forward considering them one and the same. I further believe that even if the traitor is only a pawn, we should keep the circle of people involved as small as possible. Your Majesty, what are your orders?¡± He looks to King Rihtwis. King Rihtwis has clearly been deliberating each point as it arose.


    ¡°First, the soldiers guarding the gates will expand the perimeter and be more ready to engage with enemies beyond that range in a timely manner. Second, the number of patrolling soldiers will be increased throughout the city, especially at night. Third, the castle security will be tightened, let no one in nor out.¡± General Shard bows to King Rihtwis.


    ¡°Very well, Your Majesty, I will make it so.¡± As the general leaves, King Rihtwis now turns to Geard.


    ¡°Geard, return to your duties as normal. Young Sion, young Scima, stay behind for a moment.¡± Geard bows and takes his leave.


    Sion and Scima draw closer to King Rihtwis and Eva. King Rihtwis loses a part of his regal bearing as he speaks to the three of them.


    ¡°My darling Evangelina, young Sion, young Scima, I apologize, but in light of the attacks, your departure to Sagax must be postponed.¡± Irritation flashes across Scima¡¯s face, but he dispenses it quickly before he speaks.


    ¡°Your Majesty, I alone would be able to protect Lady Eva. With Sion here, there should be no issue at all.¡±


    ¡°We do not know the full extent of these brigands¡¯ strength. And even then, we know not of their goal. We have no idea what they shall do if their target escapes them. My decision is final.¡± Scima says nothing. He bows to King Rihtwis, then turns to leave the hall.


    Later that night, Sion is preparing to sleep. He hears a tapping at the window. Sion pulls open the curtains to see what it is. Behind the window is Scima, his blond hair dark under the veil of the night sky. Scima gestures upwards with his arms vaguely. Whatever he is trying to communicate is lost on Sion.


    Sion pushes open the large windows. He leans on the windowsill so his face is closer to Scima¡¯s. Scima smiles at him.


    ¡°I¡¯m solving our thug problem.¡± Scima says it simply, as though he were just going out to do a normal errand. Before Sion can try and dissuade him, Scima grabs his arm on the windowsill. Scima pulls the off guard Sion down from the window as he continues. ¡°And I need your help to do it.¡± Sion, not expecting anything even remotely like this, falls onto the ground in front of Scima. He questions Scima as he stands.


    ¡°Why do you need my help? And why are you doing it in the middle of the night?¡± Scima keeps smiling as he answers joyfully.


    ¡°You heard King Rihtwis, we won¡¯t be let out starting tomorrow. If we want to handle the problem we¡¯ll need to do it now and we need nobody to know. So we have to do it tonight. And I just want your help.¡±


    ¡°So why do we need to handle it ourselves? Can¡¯t we leave it to General Shard?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll take time. And I don¡¯t want to let them run free or keep us waiting any longer than we have to.¡± Beneath his smile and his facade of justice, Sion senses a hint of something deep inside of Scima. Just the tiniest hint of frustration. A tinge of sadness and fear. And deeper still a desperation. Sion senses it so faintly inside of Scima that he can¡¯t even be sure it really exists, but he doesn¡¯t want to wait around to find out. Sion is gripped by a fear that something terrible will befall Scima if he is left alone tonight.


    ¡°I¡¯ll help you, but just to make sure you stay out of trouble.¡± For a moment as the words pass his lips, Sion considers knocking Scima out and saving them both the hassle. But as Scima smiles at him, he stops that sort of thinking entirely. Even disregarding whether he¡¯d even be able to knock out Scima, Sion realizes that he¡¯d rather disobey orders than betray his friend. Scima begins to walk towards the castle wall and Sion follows behind him.


    The stone walls are even more imposing at night than they are in morning. The dark stones feel like they melt into the night sky and expand beyond Sion and Scima¡¯s reach. Sion and Scima look up the wall. Scima begins talking.


    ¡°As the one who thought up this plan, I¡¯m the leader. Follow my orders, Sion.¡± Scima draws his blade. ¡°What I need you to do¡ª¡± Sion interrupts him.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t driving your sword into the stone be really bad?¡± Scima answers him lazily.


    ¡°They¡¯re just rocks. Who¡¯ll care?¡±


    ¡°Not the rocks, the formulae. Won¡¯t the whole castle notice right away?¡± Scima is shocked at Sion¡¯s question, and his attitude changes dramatically. As he starts his own line of inquiry he is intense and almost panicked.


    ¡°How do you know about the formula? Did somebody let it slip? Were you told by somebody outside the castle?¡± There were two things that Sion hadn¡¯t realized. The first was obvious, he had not realized that the magic formula engraved in the walls were a state secret. The second was that he should not be able to see it at all. Sion had not realized that the pure form of magic was not something humanity was meant to see. He doesn¡¯t know how to explain himself to Scima without giving away the secret of his power. Even though he wants to trust him, Sion doesn¡¯t want to take that risk even more.


    ¡°I¡­ figured it out?¡± Sion keeps his answer vague, as though he himself doesn¡¯t know why he knows it. And it¡¯s not entirely untrue, he had only realized the wall¡¯s true form just now, now that he had seen it without the light. Each stone glows softly to Sion, each engraved with a magic formula. The stones together form another formula repeated across the wall. The wall is not just a wall, but a massive circuit for constructing a magical barrier around the castle. And if a single formula stopped working, the entire system might shut off.


    Scima looks skeptical of Sion, knowing that he¡¯s hiding something. However, he chooses not to press further and focus on the task at hand.


    ¡°Using my magic, I can make the formula visible on the stone. All I need to do is not hit the formula and it¡¯ll be fine.¡± Sion never expected that light magic would have such a niche power, and only then realized that he could have made up some strange power of a magic as esoteric as his own. ¡°Sion, boost me. However high you¡¯ll be able to reach on your own.¡± Sion nods.


    Sion creates a small hold with his hands and crouches down. Scima places one leg on the hold. Sion begins to raise his body back up and swing his arms. As Scima¡¯s leg raises, he kicks off of Sion¡¯s hands and flies upwards. As Scima crosses slightly past the halfway point of the wall, it begins to glow. He doesn¡¯t miss a beat as he confidently thrusts his sword towards the stone. The blade sinks into the rock, the metal illuminated by the light of the formula to its side.


    ¡°Well, Sion!? Is the formula still up and running!?¡± It was as Scima said, the formula remained unchanged. ¡°Now jump up to me and I¡¯ll throw you to the top!¡± Sion takes a step away from the wall.


    Sion begins to run at the wall. He bends his knees just as he reaches the wall once more. He leaps into the air. As he enters Scima¡¯s range, Scima grabs Sion by the collar and begins to drag him up with great effort. Scima is able to toss Sion slightly higher. As Sion reaches up with his long arms, his fingers just barely don¡¯t graze the ledge they were aiming for. Another spectral extension emerges from Sion¡¯s body. The light blue arm passes over the ledge. The hand forms gripping at the top of the wall. Sion dangles at the ledge as he tries to control his still nascent power. He solidifies the soul around his real arm until his hand is fully enveloped in the blue mist. Once it is, he can properly visualize the apparition as a limb connected to his body. He begins to pull himself up. Once Sion reaches the top of the wall, he takes a deep breath in. Scima calls to him from below.


    ¡°Ok! Now just pull me up!¡± Sion drops his body onto the wall, one palm firmly on the surface. He moves over to the ledge and dangles one arm towards Scima. Scima reaches up towards Sion¡¯s hand, but can¡¯t reach it. ¡°Hold on, I can¡¯t reach. Give me a second to figure this out.¡± Without giving him a moment to think, Sion shifts more of his body off the ledge. Scima looks surprised when Sion brings himself closer, but quickly grasps his hand. Scima pulls his sword cleanly from the stone as Sion hefts the two of them up the wall. When the ledge is in Scima¡¯s reach, he begins to pull himself up, relieving Sion of the burden.


    Scima is able to get to his feet before Sion does. He extends his hand down towards Sion. Sion takes Scima¡¯s hand and pulls himself up. The two of them look down the other side of the wall at the grass covered in shadow. Scima looks at Sion.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just jump down.¡± Sion nods, but looks a little antsy as he begins to talk.


    ¡°How I knew about the formula, soul magic makes me more sensitive to those sorts of things.¡± Scima looks unimpressed, then responds with a smile.


    ¡°Lying really doesn¡¯t suit you.¡± Scima joyously leaps from the wall, landing on the grass beyond it. Sion follows shortly after, slightly dejected from his failure.


    They run through the large fields that exist between the two walls. Sion begins talking as they dash without worry.


    ¡°Do we need to do that again for the other wall?¡± Scima doesn¡¯t turn as he runs.


    ¡°No, there are guard stations on the wall, so we can just walk through that.¡±


    Pretty soon, they reach the edge of the plain. Scima looks down both sides of the wall, pondering something. After several still seconds, Scima points in one direction.


    ¡°This way¡¯ll go faster.¡± The two of them jog along the wall.


    Soon they reach a wooden door set in the wall. Scima pulls the door open, but moves back to the side of the wall. Nobody emerges from the now open door, and so Scima walks inside, Sion trailing behind him. Again Scima pulls open the door, then he hugs against the wall. Sion quickly presses himself into the wall as well. A soldier walks into the small stone room, a joyful tilt to him.


    ¡°Hey, hey, which one of youse opened up the door? Don¡¯t bother unless you¡¯re taking over for me.¡± The soldier looks confused as he scans the room and sees nobody in front of him. He was caught off guard when there was nobody to rib him. As he collects himself, Scima and Sion sidle out the open door. Once out the door, past the walls, Scima and Sion break out into a full dash to make distance. They needed to ensure they wouldn¡¯t get caught.


    As they slow down, they enter the city proper. The city is entirely changed at night. The bustling roads are empty. The bright appeals removed or dull in the darkness. Sion can barely believe that this city and Clea are one and the same. Scima is hardly bothered by it.


    Scima struts through the empty streets with confidence. He puffs out his chest as he walks, as though to make him look even larger than he already is, an effect lost by comparison to the slack giant behind him. Scima says nothing, simply walking one-mindedly forward. Sion is comfortable with silence, so he lets him be without question.


    Soon they come across muted lights and boisterous men. Scima ignores them. Sion throws passing glances their way, but otherwise follows Scima dutifully. However, they make no efforts to hide themselves, they have no reason to. Soon a curious drunk approaches. He¡¯s loud and raucous and causes them delay, but as he looks at Scima, he says something much more coherent than before.


    ¡°Ms. Sunna? That you? I thought you died¡­¡± Scima glares at him, ignoring the look of unknowing on Sion¡¯s face.


    ¡°You¡¯ve had too much to drink. Leave.¡± The harshness of Sion¡¯s command sobers the man up. He looks a little embarrassed, but still drunk enough to be shameless.


    ¡°Oh¡­ Of course not¡­ You her son then? That boy¡­¡± there¡¯s a look of wistful reminiscence that crosses the man¡¯s red face. Caught in the moment, he continues. ¡°If I had known what would happen to your mother, I would have se¡ª¡± Scima drives his fist into the man¡¯s stomach. As the man curls over and falls to his knees, Scima leaves without a word. Sion follows after him in shock. Sion still says nothing, sure that Scima would rather not talk.


    They roam the dark streets wordlessly, walking through the center of the streets until they near the edge of the city, far from the castle and near the city walls. Scima looks around until he finds something. Sion follows Scima¡¯s eyes to find a sleeping vagrant on the street. Sion remembers the strange wanderer Rebello Faegen, yet with this scene before him remembers him far better than he would have thought. Rebello, even in his lackadaisical state, held a strength and a joy in his body. The same cannot be said for this vagrant. This old vagrant is like a husk of a person. If not for the soft movement of his body as he draws breath, Sion would have thought him a corpse.


    Scima approaches the old beggar and crouches down to him. He begins to roughly shake the man to stir him. The old man¡¯s eyes shoot open. One eye looks towards nothing, no light left in it, the other darts around wildly, possessed by great fear. When he sets his eye on Scima, he freezes entirely, like a deer in headlights. He begins to blabber loose strands of thought.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t hurt me¡ª Gold, my brother has gold¡ª The soldiers, the soldiers¡ª My brother, he¡¯s a soldier?¡ª I swear I¡¯ll give the gold¡ª My daughter, she just¡ª Two months ago, I came into a great fortune, a great fortune¡ª My father congratulated me for my success¡ª My wife, she¡¯s waiting for me¡ª He gave me a great fortune?¡ª Spare me!¡± Scima slaps the man.


    ¡°I¡¯m not some thug, old man. Wherever those thugs you¡¯re so scared of are, tell me.¡± The old man cannot hold his own words straight, likely the malinfluence of some magic meant to shatter the mind. Whenever he stammers, it¡¯s clear that he knows the answer, clear he wants to tell it, but he cannot. Whenever he gets close, he stops and restarts or diverts entirely.


    Sion has a pained expression on his face as he watches the old man speak. Sion wants to help, but he cannot help. Desperately, desperately, he wants to help this man even to the slightest degree. But the curse is too deeply ingrained in the old man¡¯s mind and body. Sion watches the man with a pained expression on his face, and his eyes glow softly.


    ¡°Those thugs¡­ they hang around those abandoned brothels¡­¡± The old man blurts out, with a sudden burst of clarity. Scima takes his hands off the old man and stands.


    ¡°Thanks, that¡¯s just what we needed.¡± He turns back to Sion, the glitter in Sion¡¯s blue eyes now receding, and smiles at him. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    And the two of them are off. They jog quickly through the streets, careful to conserve their energy without wasting a second. The moon still hanging high in the sky, they come across a tired looking man. When they approach, the man shoots up, back straight, and begins talking at them.


    ¡°This is our territory, get out!¡± Scima is unfazed and asks a question of the watchman.


    ¡°Are you the guys behind those fliers around the city?¡± The man scoffs.


    ¡°Of course we are! No one else in this damn city has enough guts for that!¡± Scima nods.


    ¡°Good, good, just what I wanted to hear.¡± Scima smiles wide as he draws his sword.


    Scima strikes like a flash of light, cutting through the man. The shocked man screams in pain as he falls to the ground. Scima smiles over the screaming man at Sion.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go find the boss.¡±


    Scima and Sion storm through the abandoned streets. Scima slashes through any approaching thugs without mercy. Each of the unsuspecting men brought down before they even realize the fight has started. Sion follows behind, slamming his body against each thug. Combined, the two of them run unimpeded, no average man able to stop them alone, much less together. They cut through the horde of criminals. Soon, they find a much better lit building. The glow of the light invites them in. Scima cuts through the door.


    ¡°Boss must be through here.¡± Scima steps through the scraps of the door. Inside are several wooden tables, none matching the others, organized messily around one large room. Several men, better armed than the ones outside, turn to look at the two of them as they enter. The men rise as one and charge them.


    A burly man rushes ahead and throws a punch at Sion. There¡¯s a great weight behind the blow, surely enough to shatter the wooden floor they stand on. Sion dodges the strike and grabs the man¡¯s wrist. He comes in close and places his forearm on the man¡¯s chest. Gripping the man¡¯s wrist tightly, Sion pushes into the man¡¯s chest, forcing him back. He gasps in pain as his shoulder is pulled strongly. Sion then sweeps his leg and drops him on the ground.


    A stringy man in a cloak rushes past Sion towards Scima. The man thrusts a dagger out from within his cloak. Scima flicks his arm strongly, knocking the dagger off course. The man recovers himself and stabs once more. Scima again parries the blow, now with enough force to disarm him. As the dagger flies, the man¡¯s eyes follow. Scima thrusts with his blade, stabbing into the man¡¯s side, then drags it away, cutting the wound open. The man grabs the bleeding gash with both his hands, pressing into it hard to staunch the bleeding. As blood gushes out past his hands, Scima strikes the man¡¯s head with his pommel. The man crumples to the ground.


    The easy defeat of their two comrades gives the other charging men pause. They slow down and hesitate, unsure of how to approach the coming battle. Before they can make their choice, however, a strong, gruff voice resounds throughout the room.


    ¡°Stop. I¡¯ll handle this.¡± A large man walks down a set of stairs in the back of the room. The charging men stop completely as they turn to face him. One of the men responds to him.


    ¡°Boss! Don¡¯t put yourself out for them, we can handle this!¡± There is a powerful air about the boss. Without saying a word, just with his aura, he refutes the man who answered him.


    As the boss steps past the remaining men, Sion and Scima charge him as one. As quick as they can, so quick they can¡¯t even use magic, they attack. Sion swings his leg at the boss¡¯ head. Scima slashes at his torso. The boss crosses his arms over his chest. With one, he catches Sion at the ankle. With the other, he pinches Sion¡¯s blade. The boss pulls his arms back in place, slamming Sion and Scima into each other. Sion tries to get in close as Scima pulls back. The boss effortlessly blocks each of Sion¡¯s blows. As he tosses Sion to the ground once more, Scima¡¯s sword pulses with light. As Scima swings his blade, the boss takes a step back. The sharpened light grazes him, drawing blood from a small, shallow cut. Sion jumps to his feet and throws a quick jab. The boss moves to grab Sion¡¯s arm once more, but feels the impact before he can. As the wispy blue light dissipates, the boss laughs.


    ¡°You two, surrender to me. Become my lieutenants.¡± Scima mocks him.


    ¡°Subordinate? To a two-bit thug like you?¡± The boss becomes incensed.


    ¡°Why are all you weak little peons incapable of understanding us?! We are not ¡®thugs,¡¯ we are liberators! The sole people fighting for truth and justice! Even promising youngsters like you can only understand if I break you and build you back up again!¡± Behind his rage is a genuine sorrow, as though he pities the two of them, as though he truly doesn¡¯t want to hurt them further.


    Before the man can take another step forward, before Sion and Scima can move to meet him, the windows near the door shatter. From them, bright silver wolves flood into the building. As Scima sees them, he grows panicked.


    ¡°Sion, we¡¯re running.¡± Scima turns to run, leaving Sion entirely off-guard.


    As Scima tries to escape, a hand curls around his head. Carrying Scima by his head, a large man with tired eyes and long, jagged silver hair walks in. The wolves quickly dispatch each of the men on standby. The man drops Scima and another wolf leaps on top of him, pinning him to the ground. The remaining wolves begin to hound the boss. When the man sees Sion, he smiles gently. He speaks to him in a deep yet soft voice.


    ¡°You¡¯re Sion? Regn¡¯s a well-behaved pup. My boys have enjoyed playing with him too.¡± The boss is incensed again by this man¡¯s lack of care.


    ¡°You! Who do you think you are! Barging in here just as I was about to teach these boys the truth of this world!¡± The man bows his head slightly to the boss.


    ¡°I am Lieutenant General Adalwolf. I suppose I¡¯m these boys¡¯ guardian for the night.¡± The boss scoffs at him.


    The boss shakes his body vigorously, throwing all the wolves off him. He picks up one wolf and throws it into the pack, breaking them up. He cuts through the pack then. Adalwolf drops his body. The boss laughs at him. As he laughs, Adalwolf pounces. Adalwolf turns his hand to a claw and swings it. With his hand he draws a large gash across the boss¡¯ chest. Adalwolf then pushes the boss to the ground and pins him. He speaks, his voice still soft.


    ¡°Who are you? Who¡¯s backing you? Tell me and I might just spare you.¡± The man alternates between laughing and coughing up blood.


    ¡°Spare me? Hah! I¡¯m an honorable major of the True Dracabanan Army! I don¡¯t need mercy from you peons!¡± Suddenly Adalwolf jerks back. He orders his wolves to scatter. Sion jerks forward towards Adalwolf and reaches towards him.


    The boss¡¯ body explodes. Fire engulfs the surrounding area. Sion just barely grabs onto Adalwolf¡¯s collar and pulls him back. As the fire subsides and everyone recollects himself, Adalwolf begins to shake his body around. His front is blackened by soot, the ends of his hair are singed. Sion looks at him, a worried look on his face. Adalwolf turns to him as he wipes soot from his face.


    ¡°Well, Sion? Was that explosion the same kind as in the pillar?¡± Sion is shocked by how little he cares about what happened to him. He¡¯s stunned for a moment before he answers.


    ¡°Yes, it was the exact same. As far as I can tell.¡± Adalwolf returns to Scima near the door. He hoists Scima over his shoulder.


    ¡°Good job tracking them down then, Scima. Here¡¯s hoping the general will just let you off with a light beating with that.¡± Scima begins bartering.


    ¡°Hey, since we did such a great job, why don¡¯t you just not tell the general? How about it, Adalwolf?¡±


    ¡°Scima, why do you think I¡¯m even here to bail you out. General Shard already knows. He sent me out to bring you back. Dealing with those thugs was just a detour, really. Actually, he already decided on your punishments. He wanted to string you up and leave you hanging somewhere.¡± He turns his head towards Sion. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, Sion, he just wanted to make you sit still and listen to a long lecture. Well, let¡¯s go home then.¡± Still carrying Scima, now flailing his body around to escape, Adalwolf whistles, and his wolves rush towards him and sink into his shadow. Adalwolf leaves and Sion follows after him.


    Adalwolf leads Sion and Scima to General Shard. The general¡¯s face is stern, sterner than normal. He looks quite upset with the two of them. He begins to scold them.


    ¡°Why did you two fools decide to handle this on your own? And in secrecy?¡± Scima answers, still held in place by Adalwolf.


    ¡°We could handle it, but a scared old man like you would never let us do it. And the sooner we take care of this the better.¡± The general looks to Adalwolf.


    ¡°Ah, general, they¡­ definitely couldn¡¯t handle it. If it weren¡¯t for me, they likely would have been captured or even killed.¡± Adalwolf suddenly switches to defending the two of them. ¡°But they got pretty far, and their hearts are in the right place, so can you give them a break? Just cut them a little slack?¡± The general¡¯s face doesn¡¯t soften a bit.


    ¡°Adalwolf, stop encouraging them.¡±


    ¡°But they tried their best.¡±


    ¡°They acted like fools and nearly died for it. We need to punish them so they won¡¯t act like this again.¡±


    ¡°Can you at least lighten their punishment in light of their achievements?¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine. The carrot and the stick, I suppose. Very well, your punishment is running one hundred laps.¡± Sion resigns himself silently, and Scima follows after when he¡¯s let free. Adalwolf looks a little more serious.


    ¡°Now, general, I have something important to report.¡± General Shard looks uninterested.


    ¡°Hm? Adalwolf? You¡¯re still here? Get to running those laps, boy.¡±


    ¡°Huh?! I¡¯m getting punished too?¡±


    ¡°Of course not. You¡¯re setting a good example for those boys. As a leader.¡± Adalwolf sighs.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get right to it. But I really do need to report this to you first.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Go ahead.¡±


    ¡°Those thugs said they were a part of the True Dracabanan Army.¡± General Shard looks angered once more.


    ¡°Those damn pests are back again already? I was hoping I¡¯d never have to see those fools again.¡± He sighs deeply. ¡°I¡¯ll tell the king about those nuisances. Now get to running.¡± The general smacks Adalwolf on the back. Adalwolf quickly joins Sion and Scima in running beneath the night sky.

 Chapter 7

    In the morning, Sion, Scima, and Eva gather before King Rihtwis in the throne room. They bow before him as he begins to speak.


    ¡°The danger posed to you as you depart has been quelled. As planned, you shall leave the city for Ecg today. A carriage is being prepared as we speak. Gather your things and gather at the gate, where the carriage will be awaiting you.¡±


    The three of them rise and turn to leave the hall. They all return to their rooms as ordered. Sion has no difficulty gathering his things. He has nothing more than what he arrived in the city with. He carries it exactly as he had when he left the village.


    He¡¯s the first to arrive at the main gate. Sion arrives even before the carriage does. He looks around for Regn. Adalwolf told him while they were running that he would bring Regn when the carriage was leaving the city.


    Regn rounds the corner quickly. He crashes into Sion and brings him to the ground. Regn excitedly presses his snout into Sion. Sion laughs and reaches up to stroke Regn¡¯s fur. He notices that the fur feels softer and smoother than it had before. Sion stays under Regn for a while.


    ¡°Regn, I¡¯m happy to see you too, but can you let me stand?¡±


    Regn lifts his snout quickly and pouts as though embarrassed. Sion stands up and begins to stroke the fur at the top of his head. As he does so, he sees Adalwolf approaching from the same direction Regn had. Adalwolf greets Sion when he sees him.


    ¡°Good morning, Sion. I intended to meet you with Regn, but he¡¯s a fast one. He took off as fast as he could. Must¡¯ve noticed you were there.¡± Sion turns to face Adalwolf while still petting Regn.


    ¡°Good morning, Mr. Adalwolf. Thank you for taking care of Regn this week.¡±


    ¡°It was my pleasure.¡±


    As they talk, Scima, General Shard, and Theyni approach. Scima wears a simple black shirt and light gray pants and holds two large sacks on both shoulders.


    ¡°Sion! You¡¯re already here!¡±


    ¡°Good morning.¡±


    ¡°Morning. The carriage really isn¡¯t ready yet, huh?¡± Scima watches Sion pet Regn, then turns to General Shard. ¡°Is it really fine to let him walk through the city again?¡±


    ¡°One more time won¡¯t hurt, Scima boy.¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s true.¡±


    The carriage then arrives, drawn by two horses. The horses tense up as they stare at Regn anxiously. They shy away from Scima as he approaches them. After several minutes, they seem to calm down, and allow Scima to take their reins. Scima tosses his bags back into the carriage with a loud clank. Sion faces Scima and begins to approach the carriage.


    ¡°Scima, what did you bring?¡± Scima turns back to his bags then back towards Sion.


    ¡°Money, clothes, weapons, and armor.¡±


    ¡°Do you really need so many?¡±


    Before Scima can answer, three more people emerge from the main entrance of the castle. King Rihtwis walks out with Geard and Eva at his side. Eva wears an elegant white dress that falls down to above her knees, adorned with soft pink frills. King Rihwis addresses everyone.


    ¡°Remain as you are. There is no need to spend time on formality.¡± King Rihtwis and Geard stop and allow Eva to get close to the carriage. King Rihtwis continues once she turns back towards him. ¡°My darling Evangelina, young Scima, young Sion, I applaud you for your skill and talent. You have all worked hard, and I truly believe you to be the three most suited children of our fine kingdom. Continue to work hard and bring honor to our nation. Then return to us with pride in your chest.¡± Geard nods, having nothing to add. Eva bows her head and responds.


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. I shall not fail you nor the kingdom.¡± King Rihtwis steps closer to his daughter.


    ¡°My darling Evangelina, we are in good company.¡±


    ¡°Father, I¡¯ll work hard at Sagax.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will, my dear Eva. Be well and be safe.¡±


    As King Rihtwis and Geard return to the castle, Sion helps Eva into the carriage. He then disembarks and climbs on Regn¡¯s back. Scima spurs the horses and the carriage begins to depart Clea Castle, Regn trotting beside it.


    Their departure becomes a procession as the people of Clea gather to the side of them. They cheer when they see the royal family¡¯s insignia on the carriage. Sion maneuvers himself and Regn behind the carriage while they walk through the city.


    When they pass through the gate of Clea, Regn returns to his place beside the carriage. Sion twists his torso to face Scima.


    ¡°How long is it to reach Ecg?¡±


    ¡°Just one or two days.¡±


    ¡°Alright. What is Ecg like?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing interesting. It¡¯s just a quick stop.¡± Eva pokes her head out.


    ¡°That¡¯s not true. Ecg is an economic hub on the border between Dracabana and Saturgranum. As part of the alliance between us, we both exert influence on the city. Both kingdoms send an official to the city, which is who we are to greet when we arrive. Although I would prefer if we could avoid spending the night.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± Scima interjects with a smile.


    ¡°He must have a son or a friend¡¯s nephew or something!¡± Eva chides him.


    ¡°Scima, don¡¯t speak of him that way. He¡¯s a skilled and respectable official of the kingdom.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth. Better to be honest and crass than a sweet-talking liar.¡± Eva frowns slightly but says nothing. ¡°Sorry, Lady Eva. I¡¯ll hold back in the city.¡± Sion responds, still confused.


    ¡°Why do you want to avoid his son?¡± Scima answers him bluntly.


    ¡°His son is fine, she wants to avoid marriage talks.¡±


    ¡°Marriage talks?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. She¡¯s tired of all these officials trying to get their sons¡¯ to seduce her and raise their own status.¡±


    ¡°Scima, marriage talks are an important duty of a royal.¡±


    ¡°I know. And I know they¡¯re not one you care for much, my lady.¡±


    The topic dies down and they continue to make light conversation as they travel. Scima looks at the sky as the sun begins to dip beneath the horizon, then looks over at Sion.


    ¡°Should we set up camp for the night soon?¡± Sion looks up at the sky.


    ¡°We should be able to travel through the night too. Couldn¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Not all of us are animals that can keep walking all day and not care like you and Regn.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°Are the horses tired?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re getting there.¡±


    ¡°Then we should set up camp soon.¡±


    ¡°Lady Eva, is that alright with you too?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You understand the horses better than me.¡±


    After they travel a little further, Scima stops the horses. He slides off the carriage and opens one door. He helps Eva out of the carriage then hops up inside. He pulls a metal pole out from under the seats and exits the carriage once more. He pulls the pole and extends it to its full length, far larger than him. He drives the pole deep into the ground, it still standing as tall as him. He leads the horses to the pole and ties a tight knot to keep them there. Eva stands and watches him.


    Sion gets off Regn and walks to the carriage. He rummages beneath the seats until he finds the camping gear. He grabs the three sets and carries them all out of the carriage. He lays out three sheets then aligns another over them. He looks down at the sheets, then turns towards Eva.


    ¡°Eva, can you help me?¡± Eva is caught off guard.


    ¡°Oh! Yes.¡± Eva joins Sion at the tents. ¡°Do you know how the tents work?¡± Sion pretends not to see the magic woven into the sheets.


    ¡°No, not at all.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a magic tool. Wind Magic will activate and form the tent, so all we need to do is hold down the edges.¡± Sion starts to go through the camping sets.


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    Sion pulls out four smooth stones and places them on the corners of the sheets. The stones grow heavier as they touch the fabric. As Sion moves to the next set, Eva touches the middle of the sheet. It glows softly at her touch, and begins to push her hand up. The sheet puffs up into a tent, and Eva moves onto the next set. The other two puff up properly as well.


    As Eva completes the tents, Scima starts a small fire. The three of them sit around the fire, and Sion starts talking.


    ¡°It was lucky that we didn¡¯t run into any monsters today, huh?¡± Scima looks confused.


    ¡°Not really. It was unlucky that we had to deal with all those goblins when we first tried to leave.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°The roads leading into Clea are all usually safe. Ancient magic usually keeps any monsters away. Even this far away, there¡¯s still a bit of an effect, and with a monster like Regn around, nothing would get close to us. But it¡¯s weird we haven¡¯t seen any other people either.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see. So monsters get scared.¡±


    ¡°You say that like it¡¯s weird for monsters to get scared.¡±


    ¡°The monsters in the forest wouldn¡¯t even shy away from Regn¡¯s mom.¡±


    ¡°And you just hung out there?¡±


    ¡°Of course not. The hunters watched over me.¡± Scima looks over at Eva.


    ¡°And we barely think about this village.¡±


    ¡°We really should look into it.¡± Sion looks up at the moon hanging bright in the sky.


    ¡°We should eat and then go to bed.¡±


    They eat a simple meal together around the fire, then they each enter their tents.


    The next morning, Sion gently pushes the entrance of his tent open and walks out. He looks around and sees the other two tents standing unchanged in the light of the rising sun. He stretches out his back and looks back towards the tent. He touches it gingerly, but can¡¯t figure out how the magic tool works. He gives up and steps away from the tent. He scans around while he waits for Scima and Eva to awaken.


    Regn comes bounding towards him, crashing into him once more. Sion rubs his furry head.


    ¡°Let¡¯s play a little this morning. It¡¯s been a while.¡±


    Regn pulls away from Sion excitedly and yips happily. Sion stands up and looks around at the plains around them. Sion jogs across the plain, Regn following him, then bends over and picks up a round stone that fits nicely in his hand.


    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s play.¡±


    Sion throws the stone with all his might. It¡¯s sent flying far into the horizon. Regn starts dashing after it, following after its shadow. He picks the rock up with his mouth and tosses it into the air. As it falls in front of him, Regn spins, smacking the stone back towards Sion with his tail. Sion reaches out with his hand clad in his soul magic, catching the stone as it slams into his palm. Sion looks out and watches Regn run back to him.


    ¡°Sorry, that was too far, wasn¡¯t it. That was a bad throw. And I¡¯ve gotten stronger.¡±


    Sion throws the stone in another long arc, trying to use just enough power for them to play. The stone flies true this time. As it falls to the ground, Regn is already below it. As he did when he returned the stone to Sion, Regn spins sharply and smacks the stone with his tail. Again the stone is launched back towards Sion in a straight line. Sion catches it with his magic, then pitches it towards Regn at full force. Regn spins and hits the pitch cleanly back towards Sion. They continue for a few more volleys without dropping the stone or missing their return.


    Sion again pitches the stone. And again Regn hits it. However, when Regn hits the stone, it cracks apart. The broken pieces splinter out powerfully as the stone is again sent flying back towards Sion. When Sion wraps his hand alone the stone, feeling it¡¯s new jagged edges and smaller form, he hears Scima grumble behind him.


    ¡°Ow¡­¡± Scima raises his voice to talk to Sion. ¡°What are you doing so early in the morning?¡± Sion opens his palm and looks into it, then at Scima.


    ¡°We¡¯re playing catch.¡±


    ¡°What kind of catch are you playing for that rock to get so messed up¡­ Well, I¡¯ll start getting the carriage ready. If we make good time we might get to Ecg by the afternoon.¡± Regn approaches Sion and pushes his snout into him. Sion strokes his head.


    ¡°Sorry. We broke the rock, so we shouldn¡¯t play anymore today.¡±


    Sion kills time by jogging around the plains, Regn keeping pace with him. Meanwhile, Scima leads the horses to the carriage and attaches the harness. He then returns to the tents and begins to deflate them as Eva emerges from hers. He straightens out his back and greets her.


    ¡°Good morning, Lady Eva.¡±


    ¡°Good morning.¡± She turns and sees Sion and Regn. ¡°What is Sion doing?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea. Lady Eva, if you¡¯re ready, we can leave soon. I¡¯ll go get Sion.¡±


    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s depart soon.¡± Scima nods then runs towards Sion. He grabs Sion¡¯s shoulder when he reaches him.


    ¡°Sion, stop running around. We¡¯re leaving soon.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡± Sion turns towards Regn. ¡°Regn! We¡¯re leaving now!¡± Regn¡¯s head swivels as he turns towards Sion and stops. Sion and Scima start walking towards the carriage, Regn trotting after them.


    When she sees them approaching, Eva climbs into the carriage. After a few moments of waiting, Scima takes his place at the reins and Sion enters the carriage. Eva is a little surprised at Sion¡¯s presence.


    ¡°Sion, weren¡¯t you going to ride Regn?¡±


    ¡°Regn got tired, so I¡¯m letting him rest a little.¡±


    As Eva nods, Scima spurs the horses forward. The carriage continues on their journey through the plains. Scima watches the plains roll past them through the window for a while. Eventually, he turns back towards Eva.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about it myself a little, but I can¡¯t figure it out. Eva, how is marriage a duty of the royal family?¡± Eva is caught off guard by the sudden question.


    ¡°Huh? What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Marriage is something you do because you love someone. How could that be a duty?¡± Scima scoffs.


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s true for peasants like us, but not for Lady Eva.¡± Sion turns to face the back of Scima¡¯s head.


    ¡°How could that be true?¡± Eva answers him with a small twinge of sadness in her voice.


    ¡°It¡¯s simply that love isn¡¯t a concern in the marriages of royals. All that matters is that the position of our family and the kingdom is stronger.¡± Sion turns back to Eva.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that sad? What if you did love somebody?¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t matter. I would give up on them if I had to.¡± Scima turns his head to peer at Eva, but says nothing.


    ¡°How can you handle that?¡±


    ¡°I just decided that I wouldn¡¯t fall in love.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s still so bad. In the village, everyone looked so happy when they got married. I¡¯m sure it must be because of love. How is it alright for you to not be allowed to have that?¡±


    ¡°Sion, I¡¯m really alright. I have enough love for Dracabana. I don¡¯t need anymore.¡±


    Sion can¡¯t find anything else to say. Scima turns back to the road uneasily as a heavy silence hangs over the inside of the carriage. He stares off into the distance, unsure if he disliked them talking about love or not talking at all more.


    After a long while of silence, nobody able to find the right words, Regn returns to his place beside the carriage. Sion lightens up when he sees Regn¡¯s head bob past the window. Scima keeps looking straight ahead, then calls back to Sion with an uncharacteristic weakness in his voice.


    ¡°Sion, we can see Ecg now.¡±


    Sion brightens up again, then leans through the opening to the front of the carriage to look. As he sticks his head through the opening, Regn appears at his side and pulls Sion out of the carriage. When Sion sits properly on Regn¡¯s back, he looks towards the direction the road leads.


    On the horizon, Sion sees great wooden walls. They¡¯re not nearly as large and imposing as the walls of Clea and the castle, especially from such a great distance, but even from so far, Sion can tell how much larger and sturdier they are than the walls of his home. Sion¡¯s heart pounds in excitement at the sight of the border city as the carriage continues on its course towards it.