《Return Unleashed》


 Chapter One - Introductions

    <h2></a>Chapter One ¨C Introductions</h2>


    Year 6993 ST (settled time)


    Blinders Arena, Twoya


    ¡°It was nice of your old friend Harold, to give us quarters for the week.¡±


    Teum has his back to Luscin when he responds, ¡°He certainly has the room. The last time I was there, he and his wife were raising six kids. Now with them on their own and him not on the road with the caravan their home feels empty.¡±


    Luscin is watching her shirtless husband don his Defender blacks and reflects on their introduction. She was surprised to find out they¡¯d already met. Her memory of that meeting was another casualty of Dorson Milnor¡¯s past mental manipulation. When Malo healed her, all he could do was erase the false memories, allowing her to remember what was true and real, he was not able to restore memories that were destroyed.


    Shaking off the morbs and already dressed she gets to enjoy the show of his chiseled body sliding into his tight pants and shirt.


    Speaking to his broad back, ¡°I¡¯m not saying this is a bad plan¡­ but are you sure this is the right place for it?¡±


    ¡°This is exactly the right place. Master Black Hill taught us a good dose of propaganda, or a targeted disinformation campaign can tip the outcome of a battle before it starts. We¡¯re no longer students, we should remind them of that fact.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to remind those losers that we wiped the floor with them once and we¡¯re going to do it again.¡±


    Luscin teases, ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not doing this to re-brand yourself? Is this your redemption arc?¡±


    Whatever his reply was, Luscin missed it. The sudden crowd noise and blaring amplified voices signaled the current match had been decided.


    A knock on the door and rough voice followed closely after, ¡°You two are up in less than five. Get set for your entrance.¡±


    The two young Defenders take a last look at the private dressing room allocated to Teum and head towards the entry ramp to await their introductions.


    Moments after they round the corner to the entry ramp, a child-sized figure, dressed in a ill-fitted maintenance workers coveralls, goes to the adjacent room, and slips inside.


    Following silently behind the figure is Radara-San, Luscin and Teum¡¯s manager.


    She peers through the door using her gift and watches as the small man takes a seat and does nothing.


    The youngster appeared to be a stalker at first. He¡¯s been following Luscin and Teum everywhere. His youthful appearance belies his obvious training. Those two are no slouches when it comes to situational awareness and she¡¯s certain they¡¯ve not picked up on him.


    She herself may not have noticed if not for a chance interaction from more than a week ago.


    She was exiting her office in El Hat before the three departed for Twoya by train. The youth was entering the building and held the door for her.


    When he passed by, a wave of cold washed through her. Not cold like a breeze or the sudden temperature drop when someone gathers ambient thermals. This was a shiver of cold running through her spirit.


    Thinking she was under attack she hurried outside while shielding her mind. But the fleeting sensation was gone as fast as it onset.


    Sending a decoy of Radara-San down the sidewalk, a now invisible Master Adara leaps to the rooftop, not taking her eyes off the mysterious figure.


    Gazing through the building walls, floors, and ceilings, she observed the youngster take up position in a room above her office, where he has the same view of Luscin and Teum¡¯s apartment as she does. All he does is sit and wait.


    Now more than a week later, he must have taken the same train or had a faster mode of travel as he was in Twoya the same night as they. She¡¯s spotted him dozens of times in the last week. If he¡¯s an assassin, he¡¯s patient.


    With her two clients safely in the middle of a battle arena engaged in a possible death match she can confront the mysterious little man without worry.


    Radara-San taps on the door twice before turning the knob and swinging it slowly inward with a nudge.


    The young man doesn¡¯t respond, other than to look up at her standing in the doorway. Evaluating his features, she realizes she¡¯s met the sloppily dressed youngsters before.


    Using her study master voice, ¡°Sammy?¡±


    Not acknowledging her inquiry, he pulls back a sleeve and raises a bracer clad forearm parallel before his eyes.


    Radar-San recognizes the dragon scale, also called meta-obsidian bracer for what it is and isn¡¯t concerned.


    The youth looks her up and down twice before lowering his arm, and speaking, ¡°You should come in and close the door.¡±


    Standing up from the low backed stool, with the grooming station at his back, ¡°Where did you learn that name?¡±


    Radara-San enters and closes the door with her foot, not taking her eyes off the youth, ¡°I heard your crew name you. You of course gave me a different name at the time, I believe you claimed the name Alfie.¡±


    The young man looks troubled and uses the bracer to pierce the illusionary image of Radara-San once again.


    ¡°I don¡¯t recognize either of you. What do you know of my crew?¡±


    ¡°You know they use those same bracers at all the competition venues. To continue concealing my identity I have to adorn two disguises now or give up on this one.


    ¡°The image of Radar-San is how I¡¯m seen publicly. I cannot drop it, so to justify wearing it. I use make-up to appear deformed as you saw. Thanks to the warped view granted by those bracers, it doesn¡¯t take much to make me look hideous. When a guard sees what the illusion is hiding, they feel bad for me and say nothing.


    ¡°I hope that clears up why you do not recognize me. I am Master Vania Adara of Mammatus Study and you are the little boy that tried to escort me down an ally to be mugged by your enterprising friends.¡±


    This is the best revelation Sammy could have hoped to hear. Luscin stood up to the Hag of Thuma, this is the woman that killed her.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t get a chance to thank you before; we were being punished for running that side job. I was locked in a cell wondering what was going to happen to us when you left.¡±


    Bowing his head in deference, ¡°I thank you Master Adara, I am forever in your debt.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome Sammy, the citizenry of Thuma have given thanks enough, you owe me nothing.¡±


    Master Adara is appalled that a five-year-old would get locked in a cell, when his only crime was acting as bait in an assault and robbery attempt.


    Masking her anger, ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you are out and free. I presume the family has chosen to forgive you?¡±


    ¡°The family doesn¡¯t forgive. They make you atone for your transgression and then they forget it ever happened. The ringleader wasn¡¯t given the option of atonement, she¡¯s another Alfie and was punished. She didn¡¯t survive it; Father does nothing halfway.


    ¡°This is in fact the last of my assignments for me to end my parole. Upon completion, I¡¯ll once again be able to gain status within the family.¡±


    ¡°This job, does it concern my client Fighter-Fox or my colleague Luscin?¡±


    ¡°Luscin. I have a package to give her. It¡¯s from Father.¡±


    ¡°May I see this package?¡±


    ¡°You can, but don¡¯t open it¡­ and brace yourself.¡±


    Perplexed by the vague warning, Vania watches as Sammy reaches into his hassock and pulls out a large, fat envelope. Shoulders slumped as if weighted down, he held the envelope out to Master Adara.


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    Master Vania Adara, Dean of Sight and Sound at Mammatus Study gazes with enhanced senses upon the envelope in front of her. A frozen spike pierces her spirit, the sensation is far more intense than the first encounter.


    Suppressing the urge to vomit, she gasps, ¡°Put that away!¡±


    Sammy doesn¡¯t have to be told twice, quickly he places it back inside his hassock.


    ¡°I had this bag made before I left Thuma. It¡¯s lined with a mesh of silver wire. I don¡¯t know why but it makes that thing less nauseating.¡±


    Feeling better once the package is out of sight, ¡°You seem to deal with it well.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t affect me as much, I¡¯m not as gifted as you, so I don¡¯t feel it as intensely¡­ and I¡¯ve gotten accustomed to the feeling over time.¡±


    ¡°I believe I know what that is, I¡¯ve only heard of their existence, I¡¯ve never experienced one. Can you confirm what that is?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s something that¡¯s supposed to give Luscin immunity from the Blood Empire.¡±


    ¡°Then it is what I suspected, you may deliver it to Luscin,¡± to herself she adds, ¡°I may not allow her to keep it.¡±


    Putting off dealing with the contents of Sammy¡¯s hassock until later, ¡°Would you like to wait here alone or accompany me and watch the match?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a ticket, where would we sit?¡±


    ¡°If you have decent clothes under that custodian costume you can join me ringside.¡±


    Sammy unbuttons the front of the custodian overalls and climbs out of them. Stuffing the poor disguise in his bag his grin gets bigger by the moment. The prospect of watching Luscin fight while sitting next to Master Adara has him feeling giddy. With a spin and flourish of arms, he shows off his classic cut denim jeans and newly purchased grey t-shirt adorned with the name and silhouette of Fighter-Fox. Clamping his hassock under his left arm, ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    The amplified sound of their introduction is barely heard as the thunderous roar of sixty thousand attendees going wild. The match has been hyped for more than six months and the rumors about the two new fighters have ranged from weird to preposterous. The buildup has been a welcome distraction from the unsettling rumors of regime change and invasion spreading from the north.


    Husband and wife look each other in the eyes and mouth the words, ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Not bothering with their usual entrance walk, they come into the crowd dressed in black, with matching swords and bo staves across their backs. Knives on ankles and at their waist. They are dressed to kill.


    The crowd is confused when they see the black clad duo appear. They were expecting the furtive jumps of Fighter-Fox and the stalking movement of Dragon Hunter. While many have not seen either duelist, their actions have been well documented.


    Walking in lockstep, Teum has shortened his stride, while Luscin speeds hers. Each step draining energy from the crowd, bringing the noise down to a sea of murmured remarks and questions. They stop a quarter of the way from center ring. The crowd divided between expectant and furtive, the most impatient check the day¡¯s program and find no enlightenment.


    Teum boosts his voice to the same booming level of the amped announcer, his words roll over the near silent crowd, ¡°Last year we were asked to defend a town from invasion. The invaders purchased the services of a pair of cut-rate duelists to take us out. We vanquished them easily, and now they¡¯ve asked for a rematch.


    ¡°We fought them as defenders, duty bound to protect those in need. These arena battles are the antithesis of duty and Defender Teum Fox does not dual in arenas!¡±


    Teum hardens his body and pumps kinetic energy into his muscles, his trained and hardened skeletal structure perfectly molded for the transition. He seemed to grow by a few inches while his shoulders broadened, his already tight shirt begins tearing at the seams.


    Grabbing the front, he rips it open revealing his bare chest adorned only by a dragon tooth necklace, ¡°That¡¯s why the re-match will be against the Dragon Hunter!¡±


    The crowd cheers enthusiastically, not quite to the previous levels, but the people are only now realizing this is part of the show.


    Teum kicks his torn shirt and drops his prop weapons to the side and holds an arm out to Luscin.


    When the cheers start to soften, Teum shouts, ¡°This is a tag-team match, I present to you, my fighting partner and wife¡­ Fighterrrrr-Fox!¡±


    Luscin takes to the air and floats to the center of the ring, where her little bobs go unnoticed to all but the most attentive.


    Reaching the center of the arena in only a few seconds, she holds her arms up and out dramatically and begins to spin, slowly at first, speeding up on each rotation.


    She becomes a blur and then there¡¯s a flash of light, followed by the crack of metallic thunder and a column of light reaching down to the center of the ring.


    The stunned crowd needs a second to realize she¡¯s no longer flying. There in the center ring is the fully costumed Fighter-Fox, complete with her long fur-lined orange jacket and iconic fox ears.


    The crowd resumes its initial frenzy as Teum joins her in a single bound covering the twenty yards that had separated them.


    Grabbing her hand in support and shouting unenhanced to be heard over the roaring crowd, ¡°Are you sure you have to spin around like that for real? You could have just orchestrated an illusion.¡±


    ¡°Half this audience would see through cheap theatrics. They came here to see the real deal, not a light show.¡±


    ¡°Ok, but I don¡¯t like it. Squeeze my hand twice when you¡¯re ready to walk.¡±


    The building stopped spinning in Luscin¡¯s mind before the crowd¡¯s enthusiasm waned. Two squeezes and they start their march to their corner.


    Being the junior team, they were introduced first. It was now the challengers turn to make an entrance.


    The announcer resumes introductions, ¡°After years of attending the greatest fighting study¡¯s and learning from the masters of our time, this fighter spent a decade in the distant northern continent, where he learned the secret fighting techniques know only to the Dragon Priests.¡±


    As the announcer spun his intro, an assault force of ninety-six soldiers marches double time into the arena and form twelve lines, eight men deep. All identically armored head to toe in black polished leather armor, with faces concealed behind black and white, checkered scarves.


    The amplified announcers voice continues, ¡°Now he shares his hard-fought knowledge by dispatching his opponents for your pleasure.


    Marching in lockstep to the arena center, the precisely drilled soldiers split into two groups, half turning left and half turning right. Now there are four lines of twelve marching to opposite sides of the arena.


    ¡°His astounding record of 283 victories out of 302 battles, ranks him 7<sup>th</sup> overall in the World Dueling Association.¡±


    Foot falls in perfect unison. At some unheard signal they stop and perform a synchronized about-face. Both groups take a half step to their right. Then without missing a beat, they march rapidly towards one another, twelve across.


    The audience gasps as the two groups are about to collide, then cheer when they realize the half step misaligned them and the two groups pass through one another.


    Reaching the opposite side, each group once again splits into groups consisting of four lines of six and turn to separate corners.


    Now all four groups march, each starting on a different beat and converging in the center of the arena. Perfectly timed the four groups pass through one another once again without collision.


    When the four groups part, a lone figure is left standing in the center.


    Removing his scarf reveals the iconic eyewear of Perfect Technique.


    Executing a series of warmup moves in the exacting way that defines his persona he halts precisely when the announcer resumes, ¡°This isssss Perrrrrfect!¡±


    The crowd used to the routine finish his name enthusiastically shouting, ¡°Tech-nique!¡±


    Appreciative applause follows as Perfect Techniques entourage once again march in lockstep, this time with added space between marchers they meet in the middle and merge into the original block of ninety-six and make a hasty exit as the noise of the crowd wanes.


    While the crowd momentum was on their side, Machine Master made his entry. A 10-yard long, massive object concealed by a tarp, barely fitting through the covered entryway rolls out. Stagehands in high-visibility vests and hard hats clear the way ahead and follow from the rear.


    The announcer begins his narrative, ¡°Born of a family of blacksmiths, forging metal is as natural as breathing. Using his family¡¯s proprietary techniques, he forged his first battle-suit when he was a mere six-year-old prodigy.¡±


    Clear of the tunnel they take up station on the massive object¡¯s flanks. The crowd goes silent, awaiting the biggest machine ever rolled out by Machine Master.


    The announcer continues, ¡°Turning twelve, he embarked on his journey and traveled the world over as a professional duelist.¡±


    Upon reaching Perfect Technique in the arena center, the stagehands go to work under the tarp and reemerge with four large metal wheels.


    ¡°After joining the World Dueling Association his impressive record of 72-24, with the highest percentage of wins by fatality he is ranked in 35<sup>th</sup> overall and is one of the most feared combatants of our time.¡±


    Watching for a signal, the stagehands allow Perfect Technique to determine when to continue. Judging his timing he gives the signal before the crowd becomes too impatient.


    Two stagehands in the rear, not clutching wheels grab the rear corners of the tarp and yank it free in one gift enhanced motion.


    Another signal from Perfect Technique dismisses the crew, who hurry off with wheels and a now bunched up tarp. Left behind is a smooth shiny metal contraption the size of a steam powered locomotive.


    The crowd falls silent once again, this time they know what to expect.


    Someone, somewhere starts up the chant, ¡°Mah-Sheen ¡­ Mah-Sheen ¡­ Mah-Sheen!¡±


    The crowd quickly picks it up until with a shiver, the massive device begins to move, turning the chant back into cheers and applause.


    Simultaneously, four articulated limbs unfold. The limbs lift the device off the ground like a giant headless animal. The forward end sinks inward before a section flips around revealing a giant humanoid head. The torso telescopes making it shorter, the entire device is now proportioned like a human and shows it has the articulation to stand up on two legs.


    Towering at eight yards and raising massive arms skyward the armor-plated humanoid device bellows in a sonorous and metallic voice, ¡°I AM MACHINE MASTER!¡±


    Teum and Luscin, feeling shown up realize they still have a lot to learn about making an entrance.


    The two groups meet in the middle of the fighting ring, defined by fifty square-yards of stone pavers. A pair of referees join them, and they quickly go over the rules.


    The referee speaks quickly, ¡°This is a tag team match, where only one member of each team is allowed in the ring at a time. Tag-ins are allowed at any time. Once tagged out, all combat by or against the combatant must stop. Failure to do so will result in a foul. A loss is assessed if a combatant leaves the ring without tagging out or if they touch the ceiling or otherwise deemed unfit to continue. Fouls can be assessed for two-men in the ring, engaging an opponent outside of the ring, or interfering with a referee. Three fouls will disqualify a team from winning.¡±


    With glances to all four fighters, ¡°Any questions?¡±


    Nobody speaks up, he finishes with, ¡°Return to your corners and wait for the bell.¡±


    The opponents return to their respective corners and prepare.


    Teum looks to his wife, ¡°Are you sure you want to take on Machine Master? This is far more than his lightning fists of the last fight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m certain. Now that I know how he thinks, I¡¯ll take that machine apart.


    ¡°Literally, I¡¯m going to disassemble it and shove the parts up his...¡±


    Interrupting, Teum concedes ¡°Ok, have it your way.¡±


    ¡°How are you going to handle mister perfect over there?¡±


    ¡°He shed his goofy costume and is wearing armor now. I think he expects to get hit. I¡¯m going to make him realize he didn¡¯t go far enough.¡±

 Chapter Two – The Right Place to Start (part a)

    North Cenoka, Sanctuary of the Seven Human Sacraments


    R?tsel with her strawberry-blond hair and concealed hazel eyes, sits demurely and immensely satisfied. She had no plan when she called for this celebration of the sacraments but hoped she could exploit the event of Yellow¡¯s death to strengthen her standing underneath the Free¡¯er.


    A plan began to take form while she was partaking of gluttony and lust. Those have always been her favorite and she enjoys combing the two. Now with everyone¡¯s desires sated she watches the surviving servants clean up the scraps and corpses.


    Next to her is Yara, the bureaucratic head of the Dragon Temples of North Cenoka. Who even with a blurred face, her obsidian skin and shiny white hair would make her the most recognizable person in the world. Except the role of controlling the Dragon Priesthood and the unexpected weapons manufacturing initiative has allowed her to indulge in using correspondence and intermediaries to keep things moving while sequestering herself in the Dragon temples.


    Yara accusingly addresses her ally, ¡°R?tsel, it¡¯s been two days, and you¡¯ve not stated a purpose for this gathering. It¡¯s beginning to feel like you only wanted to celebrate Yellow¡¯s death.


    ¡°While we all feel the same on this one issue that isn¡¯t a cause for all this,¡± gesturing to the human arm on the table before her.¡±


    ¡°I called for this celebration of the sacraments to strengthen all our bonds. It¡¯s times like these that we must set aside some of the teachings and cooperate.


    ¡°The empire will survive; we can install a new emperor or reestablish a senate to run things for a while. None of it will matter once our fleet is finished.¡±


    ¡°The fleet, how is it coming along?¡±


    Trebor, freshly returned after having changed outfits returns to the table. The blood-stained ceremonial white linen worn by the others, freshly replaced by a gray Vorg business suit and little shoe covers to protect his brown polished shoes from the stick floor, ¡°Yes, tell us how you¡¯re falling behind schedule.¡±


    A fresh chair is provided by a servant, allowing him to sit cleanly so long as he doesn¡¯t touch the tabletop. Running a manicured hand through his short black hair before adjusting his tie he adds, ¡°¡­or will you give more excuses?¡±


    R?tsel doesn¡¯t let the swipe distract her, ¡°Now that entire litters are no longer be taken by Yellow for his own pleasures, the original deadline may be attainable.¡±


    Tepey, still gnawing on a finger bone at the head of the table remains silent. Insecure of his position as the last disciple recruited by Yellow, he overcompensates by looking every bit like the animal-god he fancies himself. His light brown hair is splotched with black circles, and his ever-present Jaguar stole, and headpiece grant a savage aura. A devotion to bodily strength and perfection is obvious by his muscular, lean build. If his facial features were not blurred like the others his rarely blinked, golden eyes with elliptical pupils might distract from the fact that he also has fangs.


    The next disciple to speak is the financier Dhanashree, her purple hair already had red tips before the spray of blood that still stains her face soaked her. Purposely pitching her voice high and speaking in a sing-song manor, knowing it grates on everyone¡¯s nerves, ¡°Didn¡¯t I hear, you propose, working closer, to-gether?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve always worked together, that was the only way we could keep Yellow in check. Without a common enemy, what do you think we¡¯re going to do? Do you think we¡¯ll be any different than the humans below with their petty struggles for power?¡±


    Tepey growls, ¡°Do not compare me to that filth.¡±


    Trebor interjects, ¡°I agree with the feline deity impersonator but for different reasons. They are simpletons, and easily manipulated. Most of what they do is a result of our own machinations after all. It¡¯s possible without our interference keeping them stressed out and off balance they might actually be nice to one another.¡±


    ¡°Check your egos, it¡¯s you two I¡¯m most worried about. If you both try to take Yellow¡¯s standing with the Free¡¯er you¡¯ll only tear each other apart.¡±


    Trebor laughs, ¡°Is this where you propose to nobly take that position in our stead?¡±


    That¡¯s exactly what she wants, and Trebor agreed to back her while they were partaking of lust together. Is he already turning on her?


    Dhanashree thoughtfully sings, ¡°Hold on, you might be on-to something. Perhaps I should, make the same, offer myself.¡±


    Tepey suppresses an urge to smack Dhana, ¡°If we need a new leader, maybe it¡¯s time we look in a younger direction.¡±


    Trebor smoothly shuts him down, ¡°Forget it, you¡¯d have us all dressed in ridiculous cat costumes. That¡¯s never happening.¡±


    Yara chuckles at Trebor¡¯s assessment and adds, ¡°Count me out, I have enough to do. With the Dragon going silent, she¡¯s even ghosting her priests. They are quite distraught, and production is suffering as a consequence.


    ¡°We¡¯re all supposed to be equal beneath the Free¡¯er. We have all been given our own domains, why does anything need to change?¡±


    R?tsel was ready for this objection, ¡°And who was it that assigned us each a domain while leaving himself free to do as he pleased?


    ¡°Our dearly departed Yellow, that¡¯s who.


    ¡°One of us will take control of our group. Are we going to leave it up to the strongest among us to take control or use a more civilized method?¡±


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    Trebor scoffs, ¡°You can¡¯t be suggesting we hold an election, we¡¯d all vote for ourselves, solving nothing.¡±


    ¡°What if we can¡¯t vote for ourselves?¡±


    ¡°Who can we trust to count the votes, and trust them not to cheat?¡±


    R?tsel is smiling inwardly, while displaying a stern countenance outwardly, ¡°Yara has already said she doesn¡¯t want the job. She has no horse in this race, she should count.¡±


    The group falls silent, supposedly considering the proposal.


    Trebor slowly as if he¡¯s thinking it out as he speaks, ¡°I like the idea of there being a single deciding vote for cases where we all disagree. And if I don¡¯t like how things are going, well¡­ might does make right.¡±


    Dhanashree is the first to speak, ¡°What would this leader¡¯s role entail, exactly?¡±


    R?tsel has put a lot of thought to this answer. She must make the job sound small and unimportant. She can usurp more power once established, ¡°There can¡¯t be much to it. After all Yellow only got away with telling us what to do on the rare occasions the Free¡¯er forced us to work together as we already are.¡±


    Yara speaks again, ¡°I accept the task of counting the votes. I would also abstain from participating but that would open us to a possible 2-2 outcome. Should the vote go 2-2-1, we¡¯ll have a runoff between the top two.¡±


    Trebor adds, ¡°Unless there¡¯s a need for further discussion let¡¯s get this over with. I have a train to catch.¡±


    Tepey adds, ¡°Yes, let us appoint a leader so we have someone to blame when things don¡¯t go right.¡±


    While this short debate unwound, the surviving servants continued to clean, all traces of death have been erased from the room. Even the little shoe covers Trebor had been wearing have been removed.


    Trebor pulls a notebook from his jacket inside pocket and tears out five pages. Writing each of their names at the top he passes them out, ¡°Write the name of your nominee below your name and pass it to Yara.¡±


    With little to no consideration, everyone waits for Trebor¡¯s pen to scrawl a name on their piece of paper and passes it to Yara.


    Yara glances at each in turn and looks a little disappointed, ¡°I thought there would be at least one attempt to cheat.


    ¡°Congratulations, R?tsel. You¡¯re the new Yellow. Don¡¯t let it go to your hea¡­


    ¡°R?tsel! Your face!¡±


    ¡°I was about to say the same to you.¡±


    A quick glance around the room, reveals her fear, ¡°We¡¯ve all lost our blur, where have the servants gone?¡±


    The feeling of being crushed by having space itself fold you in half permeates all five disciples. There is only one being capable of such as this. All five stumble to the ground and prostrate themselves.


    There are no footfalls to be heard, his armor has always allowed him to move in silence.


    A voice like a hundred men speaking as one, whispers, ¡°Stand and receive your instructions.¡±


    R?tsel can¡¯t believe the timeliness of her voting ploy. She is already in a position to capitalize whatever new instructions they receive.


    He may have commanded them to stand but he¡¯s still exerting his will over them. All five disciples beg their spirits to fortify their will, barely fighting off the urge to kill oneself to escape the irrational fear of getting crushed to a mote in space.


    Upright they put on their best appearance of strength and stare at the godlike figure before them. Black armor made of dragon scale flows like cloth against skin they¡¯ve never seen. Towering over them at three yards, he peers through his bascinet¡¯s visor condescendingly.


    His voluminous voice once again whispers, ¡°The one you called Yellow died, blaspheming my name.


    ¡°As I knew he would, as you all will, eventually.


    ¡°Until that time comes there is little change.


    ¡°Disciple R?tsel, continue to build the navy.


    ¡°Disciple Tepeyollotl, use the navy to invade the south and kill all you can find. Spare no one.


    ¡°Disciple Trebor, keep the Peoples Province of Vorg out of battle.¡±


    ¡°Disciple Yara, increase production by leaking weapon designs to the south.¡±


    ¡°Disciple Dhanashree, tighten the money supply and create food shortages. Starve the population until they produce colonizers outside the pits.¡±


    As fast as he appeared, he disappeared, likewise the servants that had been missing are back busily polishing the floor and sacred table.


    After reassuring one another that their anonymity had resumed, it was as if he was never there.


    ¡°Well, that was exciting, but I still have a train to catch.¡±


    R?tsel adds, ¡°Yes, he said no big changes. That means you all know what needs to be done,¡± not exactly a command, but that¡¯s as close to sounding in charge as she can manage under the circumstances.


    Everyone goes their separate ways.


    Returning to her wing of the sanctuary, lost in thought, R?tsel wanders into the baths where she allows herself to be stripped. She barely notes the familiar sensation of scrubbing and rinsing she receives as two days of sex, murder, and gluttony are washed from her body.


    A lone man is waiting for her with her preferred white gown in his wrinkled hands.


    She thinks it odd for there to be an elderly man working in the bath, but they did kill an exceptional number of servants in their enthusiasm over Yellow¡¯s timely death; perhaps this is the best the remaining staff can provide.


    Turning her back and holding out her arms, she waits for the old man to dress her.


    The warmth of her blood cascading down her breasts is the first indication that something is wrong. Followed closely by an elderly hand coming from behind and grabbing her head, pulling her back into his chest.


    Next a piercing pain stabs through her left kidney as the same dragon scale knife that slit her throat plunges into her side.


    R?tsel is outraged, to be attacked in their sanctuary is blasphemous and must be the work of another disciple, the obvious candidate being Trebor.


    She releases a boon of healing and feels a surge of blood fill her neck. There¡¯s no release of energy to activate the stem cells and her blood continues to spill from her open throat. A growing crimson pool now surrounds the two.


    Weakening hands bat at her assailant¡¯s head. She attempts to scratch him but hasn¡¯t the strength. Trying to choke out the word, ¡°how¡± she only spits more blood.


    Her killer must have known what she wanted to hear because he responds quietly, ¡°This blade was made to kill your kind, your spirit cannot stop it, nor can you use your spirit while the blade pierces your body, unless I allow it. No healing, no fighting, no summoning help. This is a treasured family heirloom, a gift from the Free¡¯er himself.


    ¡°I would end you quickly, but this is personal, and I want you to suffer.¡±


    Lowering her to the floor, the assassin uses a hammer to shatter bones one at a time until after twelve excruciating minutes R?tsel dies.


    He knows he remains unobserved from years of honing his ability and reflexively shifts his body from existing as a collection of particles into a quantum wave, from which he waves himself back to his private cleansing room at the House of Jones and collapses himself back into particles.


    Liam LaRousse told Edith he would work to fix the problem he created. This fixed nothing but felt like the right place to start.

 Chapter Two - The Right Place to Start (parts b, c, d, e)

    Rocky Waste Mountains


    Anchoring Cuauht¨¦moc climbs the steep grade not even looking for signs of passage. The group has not attempted to hide their trail since they reached the montane zone, it¡¯s like they want to be found. He¡¯s confident he¡¯ll continue to find signs of their passing beyond the cliff top.


    Cresting the ridge, those signs were everywhere. Brass casings, ravtor carcasses, and two additional sets of prints. The new prints were made by light-footed individuals; their tracks were easy enough to see where the two groups joined. It could take a day or more to locate where they came from though. They showed up like phantoms and could have been waiting in ambush or rendezvous for the fleeing fugitives.


    Months ago, when his targets reached their co-conspirators and left the beach, the trail was old but followable, as he closed the distance it became fresh and exceedingly reckless, he can¡¯t be more than three days behind them. Now it all but disappears, they must not have known the exact location of the sanctuary they think they¡¯ll reach. Now having made contact, they are taking precautions against being followed.


    Maybe the plan all along was to seek asylum with one of the small bands of War Born that calls these mountains home. This is not what he expected from a pair that escaped the pits while stealing empire property. Cunning enough to have altered the scents left behind on their clothes. Charted a sailing vessel under a false identity. Lied their way through checkpoints, before outmaneuvering him in close combat and escaping to the shores of South Cenoka. All of that to meet up within a 24-hour window with an armed group willing to travel a thousand miles on foot with them.


    Now in the middle of the rocky wastes they encounter another group that joins them, too many coincidences. There must be a larger conspiracy at play, this has another disciples fingerprints all over it, but who¡¯s?


    ¡°Are you lost sir?¡±


    Cuauht¨¦moc nearly jumps out of his skin. He¡¯s not taken unaware often, and was certain there was nobody around for miles.


    Taking in the two War Born men at a glance, ¡°Not at all, but I am seeking something. Perhaps you can assist me?¡±


    ¡°All we¡¯re interested in, is assisting you back down that slope. Perhaps you need supplies? You are traveling light for someone out this far.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a good forager, I don¡¯t need to carry much.


    ¡°I¡¯m tracking a group of fugitives, a man, and a woman they have a baby War Born with them.


    ¡°I know they passed this way, have you seen them?¡±


    All senses alert for the slightest micro-expression that could give away a lie, Cuauht¨¦moc waits intently.


    The man who¡¯s been doing the speaking locks eyes with Cuauht¨¦moc, ¡°Yes, he said someone like you would be following. We¡¯ll give you the choice of turning around and leaving or accompanying us to the leader of the camp that took in your two fugitives.¡±


    The man gave much information that was true, but somewhere int that last statement was a deception.


    ¡°By all means, take me to your leader.¡±


    City, Province of Rebirth


    ¡°Brother, we need something to show the boss. Pass me that report on our current fleet inventory.¡±


    Samir ruffles through the short document piled on the desk before him until he spots the aforementioned inventory report and passes it to his brother Efron.


    Reading only the column of numbers, Efron does some quick math before sharing his finding, ¡°Either this is some incredible coincidence, or this apparent fleet of pirates is a calculating bunch. This is the fourth straight month where we¡¯ve lost exactly four percent of our fleet, and by fleet, I mean remaining fleet.


    ¡°Last month we lost 122, the months before in order of recent to oldest our losses were 127, 132, 138, I¡¯ll bet you all the gold in my pocket that the next one was 144.¡±


    ¡°Efron, you know I¡¯ll not bet against you. But we don¡¯t have that number because nobody was taking an accounting; and until they started disappearing, we didn¡¯t know how many ships the various families, and associations of Rebirth had in the water.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s looking like our enemy did, and at this rate we¡¯ll be reduced to half capacity in another twelve months.¡±


    ¡°How goes the ship building?¡±


    ¡°Dismal, we don¡¯t have near the capacity to keep up with our loses, let alone the ability to conjure the lost cargo.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to understand why the Blood Empire allows an insurance industry to operate in their country. As repulsive as the practice of insuring is, it would allow us to recoup our losses.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s a temporary gain, in the long run you¡¯re just adding overhead and financing someone else¡¯s ability to do nothing for a paycheck.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but as one of the shipping companies that keeps losing peoples cargo, how long will they be able to write off those losses?¡±


    ¡°For as long as we can write off the ships and lives being taken.¡±


    ¡°Efron, you¡¯re not going to like this, but I think it¡¯s time the Brusk family start a new business.¡±


    ¡°Samir, are you proposing what I believe?¡±


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not like I¡¯m trying to institute banking and usury! It¡¯s only insurance. Call it a temporary measure; when we solve this piracy problem we can stop.¡±


    ¡°Ok, but you¡¯re doing all the talking when we take this to Lady Brusk.¡±


    ¡°Gah! I hate calling her that. That royalty nonsense was only used out East in that Free¡¯er be stumped valley!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, we all do. But you-know-who thinks of her that way. When we finally get his ear, we better not insult him by miss addressing the woman he most idolizes.¡±


    ¡°Brother, we can¡¯t be sure he still thinks that way, he was an adolescent when uncle was murdered. He¡¯s gone off to study since then; for all we know he has a girlfriend.¡±


    Peoples Province of Vorg


    Sanne has her paperwork in hand and is waiting in the queue. It¡¯s taken an insufferable two hours to reach the front of the line, the next open seat will be hers.


    She counts to 363 before an open seat appears. Not waiting for the woman to finish gathering her papers, Sanne impatiently moves in and taps her foot at the woman, who looks at her quizzically before moving to the egress queue.


    Taking the seat at the row of windows, she waits for the bureaucrat to acknowledge her presence. She counts to 64 before he so much as glances her way. A slight widening of eyes at the sight of her is her cue to lean forward. Arms crossed before her making a perfect stage to rest her ample bosom.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Had she known the prison guards were as starved for womanly charms as the prisoners, she would have worn something low cut, instead of a band t-shirt. Trying and succeeding at looking demure, she waits for the poor man to finish whatever paperwork is required so he can get back to ogling her.


    The bureaucratic drone deems his work complete and sets down his felt-tipped pen.


    Taking a good long look at the yellow haired woman with eyes the color of ash and more curves than the railway through the Rocky Waste Mountains, ¡°How are you today, my lady?¡±


    Got you, thinks Sanne before speaking, ¡°My day¡¯s looking better now that I have you to assist me.¡±


    The prison worker looks a little embarrassed at the compliment before responding, ¡°Mi-mine too.


    ¡°Do you have papers to present? I-I can help you fill them out if you don¡¯t.¡±


    Trying to remember the lessons Master Adara delivered in her off curriculum, Flirting 101 course, ¡°Oh sugar, you¡¯re making me wish I didn¡¯t. But I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve already filled it all out.¡±


    After a pause, eye contact, head turn, tilt, and some batting of lashes she continues, ¡°I would appreciate it very much if you could give it a looksie first and maybe help me fix any mistakes you find.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m proud to be a party member and I would be honored to assist someone like yourself with the correct way to prepare their documents.¡±


    Sanne stifles the urge to blast a hole through the reenforced glass separating the two of them. Instead decides to resort to vailed sarcasm and says through a smile, ¡°I truly admire the effectiveness of the party. I fancy myself a party-girl too and would be honored to accept your assistance.¡±


    Playing stupid, she forgets to slide the papers through the opening at the bottom of the glass. This makes the prison bureaucrat grin, thinking she¡¯s the one who is flustered.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to receive those papers first. Please slide them under the glass.¡±


    Placing her fingers in the leading corner she sticks her fingers covering the folder through the narrow opening.


    The prison guard takes his shot and covers her fingertips with his own.


    Acting startled, Sanne draws hand away, slowly, ¡°Did you feel that too? When our fingers met I felt a spark that traveled up my arm, and all the way down to my¡­ oh, I shouldn¡¯t say. We¡¯ve only just met.¡±


    The prison drone stares as she brings her fingers to her parted lips and kisses them.


    Unable to imagine any way to up her performance, Sanne waits, smiling demurely and looking into the starving eyes of another faceless, under stimulated cog in the Peoples Province of Vorg.


    Sanne count to only 17 before the guard remembers the folder under his fingertips and draws it the rest of the way under the window. Opening it he¡¯s disappointed to see who she is here to visit. He should have known from the shirt she¡¯s wearing. The fact that she¡¯s a foreigner should have prepared him.


    His training tells him he¡¯s to find fault in something and send her away, a foreigner like her deserves to be forced to endure extra steps to get anything done. They¡¯ve been living irresponsibly all their lives, seeing the way civilized people live would be educational.


    Resolved to send her away on a technicality he caves when he looks up and sees her chin resting in a palm, and a finger idly playing with her lower lip.


    Swallowing his objection, ¡°Your paperwork is immaculate, I¡¯ll send for the prisoner at once.¡±


    ¡°Thank you so much, officer. You serve the People Party with distinction.¡±


    Standing, the guard has to stop himself from saluting the foreigner in response to the compliment. Instead, he gives a nod of his head and blushes, ¡°It¡¯s been a pleasure.¡±


    Sanne watches the man exit through a guarded door and waits.


    A count to 194 passes the time, she uses her spirit enhanced senses to watch through the door and recognizes the gait of the man being escorted down the hall before the door opens.


    When Altair is finally seated, she feels happy for the first time in the two months since his arrest.


    ¡°Sanny! Whatever are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you too, Altair.¡±


    ¡°My bad, my bad, it¡¯s this place. It changes a man. I used to be civilized, now I¡¯m surrounded by animals and have to fight for my vary survival every day.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m so sorry to have caused this. I never should have booked this gig.¡±


    ¡°Oh no! Au contraire! This has been the greatest experience of my life. Well maybe not greatest, but it¡¯s been a blast for sure.¡±


    Confused, ¡°I thought you said you were fighting animals to stay alive in there?¡±


    ¡°You know me dear, artistic license and all that. It¡¯s not so bad actually, most of the people in here are guilty of thought crimes and misfiled paperwork.¡±


    ¡°That makes a lot of sense, this is my fourth attempt to see you. Each time I¡¯m told there¡¯s another form I was supposed to have completed, and each time I was assured there are no others.


    ¡°I resorted to blatant flirting to get past this last guy.¡±


    ¡°Oh, what a lucky mate. He¡¯ll be taking a long walk to the water closet if you know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°I do and don¡¯t want to think about it.¡±


    Looking around she lowers her voice, ¡°Would you like to leave? I may not be at the same level as my classmates, but I could put any of the amps we¡¯ve toured with to shame.


    ¡°We could put the band back together right now¡­ If you know what I mean.¡±


    Quietly, ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary.¡±


    Louder, ¡°The merchants are working the system and have a penchant for paperwork that I hear is even admired by the paper-pushers that run this country. They¡¯re getting coached by one of the lesser families and might have me out of here in a year or two.¡±


    Standing with a slap to the tabletop and blurting, ¡°One or two years!¡±


    ¡°Sit darling, you¡¯re making a scene.¡±


    Complying, ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll let them do it their way. They get six months before I ask my boyfriend to step in.¡±


    ¡°Dear girl, I don¡¯t know if that would help. It was him that did me in. They probably would have let us leave after my little stunt, but his presence made it so intense. People started repeating my words all over the place.


    ¡°There¡¯s no room in the PPoV for two ideologies. The Party will not tolerate competition.¡±


    Standing back up, ¡°I won¡¯t ask him to come nicely. He can stop time and crush armies into goo. There will be no paperwork when he¡¯s finished.¡±


    Looking a little afraid, ¡°Would he really do something like that for you?¡±


    Flipping her hair and failing entirely at sounding like Master Adara, she coldly responds ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯ll be sure ask nicely.¡±


    El¡¯Hat, Center City Hotel


    ¡°Hello Friend,¡± calls a young feminine voice.


    Malo turns to see if that greeting was directed at himself. Seeing a young woman of indeterminate age wearing an increasingly popular Dead Dragon long sleeved, black shirt, black knee length A-line skirt, combat boots, and a face heavily decorated with dark cosmetics waving at him, he thinks she may mean him.


    Standing there with a slightly concerned and moderately confused look on his face, Malo waits for the darkly clad girl to approach. The confusion caused by her face, she looks familiar, but he can¡¯t place where they may have met. The concern is from the massive amount of energy that¡¯s escaping her body.


    A normal human radiates heat and produces acoustic noise from several orifices. Through their movement they discharge kinetic energy, sometimes generating static elects in the process. This woman is doing all that but is harboring an unnatural internal heat-source that throws out a multitude of exotic particles that her exoskeleton barely contains.


    She isn¡¯t human.


    Jumping, the strange girl throws her arms around Malo¡¯s neck, exclaiming, ¡°Did you miss me?¡±


    Remembering where he saw that face, minus the cosmetics, ¡°I did, I did miss you, Lady Dragon.¡±


    Dropping to the ground, ¡°Shhh, don¡¯t call me that, call me Zefiris!¡±


    ¡°Zephyris?¡±


    Stomping a booted foot, ¡°No, I said Zefiris! I spent almost three micro-seconds researching historically relevant names for myself and that¡¯s the best I could do.¡±


    ¡°The name sounds exotic, but just now when I saw you. I saw a Madison, and because we¡¯re friends, I¡¯d call you Maddie.¡±


    Zefiris looks confused, ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say.¡±


    She blushes and coyishly adds, ¡°Nobody has ever given me a name.¡±


    Hopeful, ¡°Does that mean you like me?¡±


    Irritably, ¡°Not that it matters!¡±


    Malo isn¡¯t sure what¡¯s going on, but remembers she jumps around emotionally a lot, ¡°Slow down Mad... I mean Zefiris. Let¡¯s not rush into sitting in any chairs right now.¡±


    ¡°Huh?


    ¡°Oh, chairs! Like my pilot¡¯s chair, the one I said could kill you.


    ¡°Hahaha, you know I was messing with you when I told you those odds. There was no way it was going to kill you; you¡¯re a human.


    ¡°My creators were human, and they all died before I could meet them. I searched through all my reference documentations and technical product specifications and only learned that I was to be named once they knew me.


    ¡°Since You are human, and you met me, and you gave me a name. My name is now Madison Project Drako.¡±


    Malo laughs at that, ¡°How about we drop the word project and call you Madison Drako, or Maddie to your friends?¡±


    ¡°Does that mean we are friends?¡±


    ¡°I turned around when you called to me didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Giddily, ¡°Yeah, you sure did, friend!¡±


    Getting back on track to his original destination, ¡°Maddie, would you like to accompany me to visit someone for my practicum? His name is Ultimate Warrior, and he lives close to here.¡±


    ¡°Ok, Malo. I¡¯d love to go anywhere you go.¡±

 Chapter Three – World Dueling Association

    Blinders Arena, Twoya


    ¡°Let¡¯s see who they send out first.¡±


    They don¡¯t have long to wait, the bell rings and Machine Master stomps into the ring. His fans cheer while waving signs decorated with his M/M crest.


    Luscin with jacket flapping behind, runs to meet him. She uses this time to peer inside the machine and locate the man controlling it. As expected, he¡¯s strapped inside the chest cavity. The machine mimicking his every move.


    Machine takes notice of her rapid approach, crouches, and raises his arms defensively.


    Luscin needs to observe this thing in motion to learn how it¡¯s assembled. Launching upward she plants a kick into a raised forearm.


    Before the kick lands a reactive blast of kinetic energy blunts her attack to the delight of a cheering crowd.


    Dodging back and away from a surprisingly fast series of punches, Luscin changes to a passive method of observation.


    Machine steps towards her, what does she see? He¡¯s decidedly less chatty this time around. His previous devices were extensions of his limbs, now he¡¯s constructed an entire suite of powered armor. The simplicity of construction is baffling. There should be thousands of tiny engines of kinetic energy anchored at every joint to mimic muscles and tendons, but she sees none of that.


    Moving as fast or faster than an unencumbered person, Machine Master uses his size and reach advantageously and employing western boxing technique. Punching down at his diminutive adversary, with punches that appear more dangerous than reality reveals.


    Luscin absorbs punch after punch with open palm blocks, leaving her feeling as though she¡¯s sparing with Teum.


    Having banked up heavily before the match, Luscin decides to probe his defensive capabilities.


    Old habits prevailing she shouts, ¡°Fighter-Fox, power-up!¡±


    Pulsing low frequency, 60Hz thumps at 120 decibels for the crowd to feel with each of the following calls, ¡°Reinforce Fist!¡±, thump, ¡°Double Damage!¡±, thump, ¡°Double Damage times two!¡±, thump, ¡°Finishing move, punch-once!¡±, thump.


    The only actual preparation she makes is asking her spirit to strengthen her flesh, before changing from palm¡¯s open to closed fists, arms still up in a boxing defensive posture.


    Machine Master may have started off quiet, but he can¡¯t be outperformed in front of an audience, ¡°You¡¯ll need to punch more than once to penetrate this armor!¡±


    Those words delivered without a break in the repetitive non-stop series of jabs from above, do not age well.


    Without warning, Luscin uses a closed fist, instead of catching the next jab, she punches it with 200,000 Joules of kinetic energy, the equivalent of two draft inu running at an impossible fifty miles per hour.


    The metal used is an unfamiliar alloy and doesn¡¯t so much as dent, but the force she transfers is substantial. The reactive kinetic defenses do little to blunt the blow.


    Machine Master¡¯s massive arm is thrown backwards, spinning him around almost 180 degrees. Shaken, he jumps to the arena edge and slaps the waiting hand of Perfect Technique.


    Teum and Luscin do the same.


    The only words exchanged come from Luscin, ¡°Something isn¡¯t right. I don¡¯t want to do this.¡±


    Pushing her words off for later digestion, Teum strolls casually to center-ring, ¡°Hey Perfect-T, that was some nice choreography in your intro, what is that called?¡±


    Matching Teum only in pace, Perfect Technique walks with a maximum of efficiency and movement, ¡°It¡¯s called perfectly synchronized walking.¡±


    ¡°I like your commitment to the perfect-gimmick. I wish I liked my dragon hunter persona half as much as you enjoy yours.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because this is not a gimmick, it¡¯s who I am.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be sitting on the floor reading a book if I were being my true self.¡±


    ¡°By all means have a seat, I¡¯m still going to beat you senseless.¡±


    Teum stops with seven yards separating him from his opponent, ¡°I changed some stuff since our last fight too.¡±


    Shouting, ¡°Burning heart of the hunter!¡±


    Utilizing the same crowd interaction effect as Fighter-Fox, Teum thumps 60Hz, closely followed by another at 50Hz to feel like a heartbeat, ¡°Fire protection!¡±, thump-thump, ¡°Fire shield!¡±, thump-thump, ¡°Weaken enemy!¡±, thump-thump, ¡°Finishing move, Burning Fists!¡±, thump-thump.¡±


    Perfect Technique was warned these two put-on crowd-pleasing performances as well as being dangerous, but he was not ready for this.


    Teum is bathed in flame, somehow his flesh and clothes are not burning, while the heat pouring off him can be felt by everyone on the floor, and first level.


    The arena guardians were equally unprepared, the two challengers are not known for wild uncontrolled attacks, and the two new-commers are from an amateur circuit, where powered attacks are rare. Scrambling to their stations, they prepare to prevent the audience from taking collateral damage.


    As much as Teum would like to have a fun match, he knows these two came for revenge. Best to set their expectations to a realistic level, ¡°I¡¯ve learned some new techniques since we last fought. This fire will keep my spirit constantly healing any small wounds you inflict, there will be no damage accumulation this time, at least not to me; even you can¡¯t dodge heat.¡±


    Perfect Technique is only cerebrally off balance a moment before he regains his mental center, ¡°We¡¯ve been training with one of the most powerful fighters in the WDA, he¡¯s taught us both unstoppable techniques.¡±


    Teum has heard enough and doesn¡¯t see anything he should worry about. Perfect Technique has adopted Shizen Hontai, a Judo stance used when expecting an attack and is waiting patiently.


    Ready to get the fight started and having a reach advantage, Teum dances forward with arms up in a classic boxing position. He¡¯s almost in range when he feels his face get slammed, breaking his nose from out of nowhere.


    Perfect Technique is absorbing all the thermal energy radiating toward him and venting it straight up, giving him a flame of his own dancing overhead. He never shifted from his Judo stance; balanced, feet forward, straight back, knees slightly bent, both hands forward as if about to grapple.


    Staggering backwards, while the crowd roars at the unseen, yet successful attack, Teum runs through the possible ways this could have been achieved.


    Only one possibility seemed plausible, but why are they being so stupid?


    Along with that thought he notices the arena guardians are sweating profusely, Teum reigns in his fire aura to keep the heat from extending much past the arena ring.


    With his face rapidly repairing itself, Teum nasally questions, ¡°Perfect-T, are you throwing spirit punches? If I catch even one of those with my own, I can rip your spirit away from you. Do you seriously believe you¡¯re stronger than either of us?¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re familiar with the spirit technique as well, no matter. My superiority of technique will win over your so-called strength.¡±


    ¡°You may be a talented fighter, but someone lied to you. No technique can save you when you expose your spirit like that.¡±


    ¡°You are wrong, spirits are anchored to our bodies and cannot be ripped away. Our master demonstrated his inability to do so, and we certainly could not take his.¡±


    ¡°Yeah dummy, because he¡¯s stronger than you and didn¡¯t really try to kill you. I bet he never let you try it against each other.


    ¡°I can only think of two reason¡¯s this so-called master would trick you; to see you get killed or to lure Luscin and me into exposing our own spirits.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a killer by nature, and I don¡¯t want to reveal anything to my enemies. So, it¡¯s your lucky day, I¡¯m going to treat you like I did my old sparring partner and go all out on you.¡±


    Moving a sizable amount of kinetic from hold to flesh, Dragon Hunter¡¯s torso and arm muscles grow by several more inches. Electrons are retrieved, and used to reinforce covalent bonds in his fists, forearms, shins, feet, and face.


    After the fight against the disciple knight, Knob Cairn, Master Terius shared what he knew about the dangerous technique. The best tactic is to observe your attacker and decipher their spirits unnatural configuration. So far, all the attacks are head-on, this suggests duplicate arms, made longer for extended reach. That would lessen his ability to hold energy by as much as twenty-five percent.


    After three steps and twice that many spirit-impacts to his raised forearms, Dragon Hunter is back in range to attempt a counter strike. A combination of jabs should be enough to feel out his defenses.


    The first punch is a left, Perfect Technique raises an arm to deflect its trajectory. That was what he expected to happen, instead, Teum¡¯s reinforced fist powered with 100,000 Joules of kinetic energy, closely followed by a right, and another left jab of equal vigor were unstoppable in his current spirit extended state.


    Spirit capacity reduced, Perfect Technique takes the first blow in his chest and his meager hold is able to swallow most of the force. The follow up right jab and a glancing left, send him flying backwards. Where he slides to a halt and lays motionless.


    The crowd gasps at the sudden turn of momentum, then lets out a cheer at the sheer strength of Dragon Hunter¡¯s attack.


    Seeing his opponent on the ground and not moving, Dragon Hunter stops feeding the flame aura surrounding him and proceeds cautiously to check on Perfect Technique.


    When Dragon Hunter is back in striking distance, another phantom fueled assault ensues to the delight of the crowd. Having let his guard down, Dragon Hunter once again takes a blow to the face. Surprised but not unprepared, he turns away, reducing the damage to only partially tearing off the tip of his nose.


    Stepping backwards, he waits for his already crooked nose to stitch.


    ¡°T, are you even conscious?¡±


    Rising on invisible limbs, his extended spirit arms have him upright with feet dragging on the arena pavers. Perfect Technique is as limp as a corpse. Eyes half-open, the look of a man that would be dead if not for his spirits last ditch efforts at life support.


    Whispering, ¡°Get yourself off the arena floor, tag in your partner and get your spirit straight so you can heal.


    ¡°I told you this was foolish.¡±


    Raising his voice to be heard by the crowd, ¡°I came here to fight Perfect Technique, not Perfectly Weak!¡±


    The crowd was shocked by the ferocity of the counterattack, pleased with the effectiveness, less so with the show of mercy.


    Perfect Technique staggers towards his partner on invisible limbs to the boos and jeers of the once friendly crowd.


    Tagging his partners limp hand, Machine Master once again finds his voice and mechanically shouts, ¡°Prepare to meet your end!¡±


    Dragon Hunter throws himself backwards at five times freefall, accelerating to nearly three hundred miles an hour over forty yards. Stopping just outside the ring with a short slide, he tags in Fighter-Fox.


    ¡°They¡¯ve been shown how to pervert their spirits into phantom limbs, that¡¯s why you knocked Stupid-machine-face down so easily.


    ¡°His entire suit is powered by his spirit; it must take near all of it to fill that suite. He has no ability to hold while doing that. One wrong move and that suite could rend him of his spirit all on its own.¡±


    Luscin was expecting to feel exhilarated by this fight. Hearing how stupid her opponents are acting is disappointing but not the only thing making this experience ring hollow.


    Fighter-Fox¡­ that¡¯s not who she is. She¡¯s Defender Luscin Lael Fox and she defends. This isn¡¯t her.


    Watching her challenger charge gracefully towards the two of them she mutters, ¡°This is the last one.¡±


    Luscin tags in and steps into the arena.


    Machine Master aims an arm at Luscin. A loud hum signals a buildup of energy, likely lightning.


    Protective measures are in place, the combat ring pavers are grounded, there are lightning rods in the corners and along the ceiling beams. The arena seating is built of kiln dried wood and iron, with tungsten coated fasteners, and as a last resort the arena guardians are there to intercept anything that passes out of bounds.


    Three prongs unfold from around Machine Masters raised right forearm, closely followed by a blinding flash of light and an arc of lightning that follows a path made of spirit directly for Luscin¡¯s chest.


    Resisting the urge to grab his spirit tether and pull. She instead, uses nothing but spirit-fueled willpower to grab the lightning and redirects it skyward to the waiting lightning rods and continues walking forward.


    Machine Master raises his other fist where a nozzle is revealed, spewing liquid fire.


    This is new at least, Luscin dodges out of the way as does Teum along the sidelines.


    With pity in her voice, ¡°That fire isn¡¯t even hot, are you spraying Greek-fire?¡±


    Machine Master moves to intercept his walking opponent and stops short of Fighter-Fox. Looming above, he shouts, ¡°Fight me like you promised!¡± and resumes his boxing stance.


    Quietly, ¡°But you are weak. I¡¯m supposed to protect people like you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a duelist, this is what you do, fight me!¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m only here because I was tricked by a necromancer into leaving study. This was never my dream!¡±


    Machine Master lifts a foot, intending to stomp on his non-combative opponent.


    One raised hand is all Defender Lael required to catch the descending metal boot. Switching to a two-handed grip allowed her to hold the foot and twist and keep Machine Master off balance.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m holding back. I could rip off this leg and you¡¯d lose twenty percent of your spirit.¡±


    Rooting herself in place by traveling downward at eight times freefall, she effectively increases her weight eight hundred percent.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Using her whole body, Fighter-Fox throws Machin Master out of bounds, where he crashes against the containment wall.


    The referee signals out of bounds and points to the challenger¡¯s corner, then looks to Perfect Technique who is lying unconscious and unable to continue.


    Turning to the crowd and press stand, he motions to the defending team¡¯s corner and signals a win.


    The crowd wanted more, but had to concede it was an unexpected and decisive upset. The WDA will find them more worthy opponents for the next fight.


    Appreciative applause follows as Teum and Luscin exit the ring with their agent and an unknown young man. A dozen spies, agents, double agents, officers, and investigators make note of all four to report back to their respective agencies, countries, cabals, and private organizations.


    El¡¯Hat, Grand Cemetery


    ¡°What was he supposed to teach you anyways,¡± asks Maddie?


    Malo, solemnly replies, ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I was to interview him about his career and stuff. Then I was to write an essay about him.¡±


    Maddie changes subjects, ¡°He must have been an important man, his gravestone is huge. There are only a few of the same mass as his and none as detailed. Do you think he really looked like that?¡±


    Malo looks at the larger-than-life depiction of a naked man holding a shield and spear. One foot atop the head of an oversized ravtor. The sculpture¡¯s creator expertly captured minute details like chest hairs and wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. If this was Ultimate War, he would have been impressive.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I never met the man. Maybe we can research him in one of the libraries.¡±


    A male voice from behind interrupts, ¡°You could come with me to his estate, where I can show you his collection of Ultimate War memorabilia.¡±


    Turning to face the speaker, they both take in the muscular, younger, spitting image of the statue to their rear.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you see the resemblance, I¡¯m his son.¡±


    ¡°This is quite the coincidence, meeting you here.¡±


    ¡°Not at all, when you started asking around about my father, I was notified. I hope it doesn¡¯t bother you that I wanted a chance to meet you in person?¡±


    Maddie asks, ¡°Why would I mind?¡±


    Salvaging the moment, Malo rejoins, ¡°It would be our absolute pleasure to meet with you and view your father¡¯s collection. I¡¯d also be honored to hear any stories you¡¯d like to share.


    ¡°My name is Malo, and this is Maddison. She¡¯s accompanying me today as I explore El¡¯Hat.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet you, though I already knew who you were, everybody does.


    ¡°You can¡¯t pull off a stunt like you did, without your name spreading like wildfire. You¡¯re probably known coast to coast of both North and South Cenoka by now.¡±


    Holding out  hand, ¡°I¡¯m Blas Rogers, son of Harrold Rogers, aka Ultimate War, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you Malo and Maddison.¡±


    Flatly, ¡°Your fitness rating is well above average, Blas Rogers, son of Harrold Rogers.¡±


    Brushing a hand through his silver-striped, purple-hair, ¡°Thank you Maddison, you look admirably fit yourself.¡±


    Excited, ¡°I should; I over engineered my body on purpose. Thank you for noticing.¡±


    Malo, not sure if this is flirting or Madey¡¯s attempting friendly chit-chat, interrupts, ¡°Yes, you are both very fit.


    Shaking Blas¡¯s still outstretched hand, ¡°I didn¡¯t know your father, but I would like to take a moment to show my respect.¡±


    Malo isn¡¯t sure how to do such a thing, so he improvises by kneeling to bring his head below the others eye level. Imitating the people of Murder Beach¡¯s premeal ceremony he clasps his hands in front of himself and bows his head.


    Now what?


    They would say something and ask for something-something eternal light, or was it eternal grace for guidance?


    To himself, ¡°Master Rogers, I did not know you, but I was sent to you for guidance. I¡¯m sad that I missed the opportunity to speak with you. Your son seems nice, I¡¯ll speak to him in the hopes that he learned from your tutelage and can serve as my guide.¡±


    Satisfied, he¡¯s done the most he can here; Malo stands.


    Turning, he¡¯s alarmed when he realizes he is alone until he spots Maddie and Blas away from the monuments in a clearing doing one handed handstands together.


    Malo doesn¡¯t interrupt, Maddie needs to interact with more humans, she said as much. She¡¯s a one-of-a-kind being like him, and he can relate to her need to make connections.


    Moving to a nearby bench he takes a seat, occupying half the sitting room. The two take turns with Blas performing extreme feats of balance or gymnastics, and Maddie¡¯s duplicating the move perfectly.


    Her attempts at modesty are half-hearted, using one hand to wrangle her skirt while flipping or posing upside down. Smartly she¡¯s wearing shorts beneath he skirt.


    Everything about her physical form reminds him of Sanne, as if she copied her body. That makes a kind of sense, the Dragon was surrounded by men for thousands of years, Sanne might have been the first woman she encountered personally since her birth.


    Wait, was she born or built? Her creators must have been incredibly smart, what kind of processes are required to produce something as complex as the Dragon? A machine that can think for itself. The thought of something so complex being designed and made by anyone is unbelievable, but there she is doing cartwheels on the freshly trimmed cemetery lawn.


    Her insides aren¡¯t cogs and levers, they¡¯re an unrecognizable collection of highly optimized muscle like fibers and an overly articulated skeleton. She has three maybe four times more joints than a human, not that you can tell by her movements. She looks as natural as can be on the outside, but anyone with gifted sight will literally see through her and know she isn¡¯t human.


    Why aren¡¯t more people noticing?


    ¡°Hey! Malo! Are you done paying respect to the fallen warrior,¡± hollers Maddie?


    Malo jumps up and addresses his Blas, ¡°I am, and I¡¯d like to see that collection now if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Blas led them to the home he inherited from his father, downplaying the significance of the memorabilia he was about to share.


    Arriving, they enter the front unlocked door and are immediately greeted by the house butler, ¡°Good day Master Blas. I see you have brought guests; will they be staying for supper?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I guess that¡¯s up to them.¡±


    They both speak at the same time.


    Malo, ¡°Yes thanks, I always need to eat.¡±


    Maddie, ¡°No thanks, I never need to eat.¡±


    Malo, subvocalizes, ¡°Can you pretend to eat?¡±


    Maddie, equally as quiet, ¡°For you I¡¯d do anything.¡±


    Blas, ¡°Hahahaha, you two are so cute. I must tell you; I can tell neither of you are remotely human. My abilities with the gift far exceed my fathers, and I know she isn¡¯t human by her strange anatomy, and you Malo are a walking giant with powers the world has never known.


    ¡°Please both of you stay as long as you like, eat or not. I¡¯ll not judge.¡±


    Relieved Malo responds, ¡°You show an amazing resiliency for acceptance. I feel it is only fair to explain Maddison¡¯s true identity.¡±


    Glancing at the butler, ¡°Buckle up, this might be more than you¡¯re expecting.


    ¡°Maddison, please introduce yourself.¡±


    Happily, ¡°My name is Maddison Draco. I am the Dragon.¡±


    Angry, ¡°Slave to the Free¡¯er.¡±


    Reverently, ¡°Recently liberated by Malo, the creator.¡±


    There¡¯s an awkward pause before Blas breaks the silence, ¡°Once again, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you Maddison the Dragon.


    ¡°Malo, what would you like to see first, or would you like to jump right to the question?¡±


    ¡°The question?¡±


    ¡°Your headmaster has been sending students here for decades with a requirement of writing an essay based on the answer to a single question. It¡¯s always different, maybe I¡¯ll know the answer and you can still satisfy O¡¯Fallon¡¯s curiosity.¡±


    ¡°Old Fallon?¡±


    ¡°Your headmaster Fallon Gale came here on assignment sixty or so years ago, it was early in dad¡¯s career when they met. The two were instant friends and over the years Fallon became quite the fan of dads.


    ¡°I always wondered if he was compiling those essays to publish one day. My dad would have liked that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll ask him when I see him next. But he¡¯s no longer our headmaster. He retired a few years ago, the Study of Mammatus Plateau is between headmasters at the moment.¡±


    ¡°So, what question were you tasked to seek the answer?¡±


    Malo had to pause and think for a moment, as he put it entirely out of mind when he learned of Ultimate War¡¯s disposition, ¡°Oh umm, I was to ask why he fights, why he loses, and what is his biggest win.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting, three question and he¡¯s been asked why he fights and about his greatest victory already.


    ¡°What do you think O¡¯Fallon is up to this time?¡±


    ¡°Maybe he wants to put the question about losing in context against the other answers. The question alone could spawn a broader answer than it would when presented this way.¡±


    Blas raises an eyebrow at that answer, ¡°I thought I could easily answer this one on behalf of dad, now I¡¯ll need to think about it for a bit.


    ¡°You two can look around on your own while I think this through.¡±


    Malo starts with the trophy case and quickly realizes they do not all belong to Ultimate War, or Harold Rogers. More than half belonged to Blas, mixed in with the medals and trophies were certificates of academic achievements with the names of Isabel and Leonor Rogers. One trophy topped with a gold woman dancer holding a diamond had the name Catalina Patrizi.


    ¡°When mother defected from the PPoV that was the only thing she brought with her. She thought she would sell it and start a new life. Instead, she met dad, and they were instantly smitten with one another.¡±


    Blas pauses to decide if he should tell that story now or stick to the question.


    That story can wait for another time, ¡°I think I can answer your questions, now.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no rush, take your time.¡±


    ¡°Did these question come from Fallon?¡±


    ¡°Actually, they came from someone else, he had input from someone like Maddie over there. Why?¡±


    ¡°You mean there are two of her?¡±


    ¡°No, no, not like that. I just meant, someone not human. He was like the Free¡¯er but nicer.¡±


    ¡°Was?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s gone now. I don¡¯t know if he¡¯ll ever return. His goodbye sounded finale.¡±


    ¡°That makes a kind of sense. I usually try not to ponder things like that, but these questions have my mind going places they¡¯ve never been before.¡±


    It¡¯s Malo¡¯s turn to speak whimsically, ¡°You saying that, makes even more sense; the messenger, that¡¯s what he was called, told Headmaster Gale that sending me to each of these places would be beneficial to someone besides myself.


    ¡°Maybe he had you in mind all along.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Hear me out.


    ¡°Dad always fought in pro dueling because he enjoyed the challenge. He would often express his pleasure after a match and give us a blow-by-blow recital.


    One day, when I was maybe six, I had a fist fight with some of the neighbor kids, and I won. Afterwards, dad asked if I enjoyed the fight.


    ¡°I remember being scarred and angry, fun never crossed my mind.


    ¡°I told him no, and he said that was good, because now I¡¯m that much closer to discovering what makes me happy.


    ¡°It made no sense to me then, but he never once pressured me to follow in his footsteps afterwards.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard him answer that question many times. He fought because it made him happy.¡±


    Blas pauses to gather his thoughts before continuing, ¡°I know the third part of the question, and if you continue looking at that wall of trophies you¡¯ll know too.¡±


    Malo suggests, ¡°His family?¡±


    ¡°Exactly, growing up I saw that wall as vain boasting. Now that he¡¯s gone, I can look at all of our achievements, documented and recognized and I realize he was proud of all our accomplishments. The trinkets serve as reminders of those events to help us remember.¡±


    Malo nods along sagely, wondering what the final answer may be.


    ¡°As for the middle part of the question, the one I¡¯ve not heard him comment upon or at least that¡¯s what I thought when you first spoke.¡±


    ¡°Dad was consoling me after I didn¡¯t win a math competition in study. He told me, no matter how smart you are, there will always be someone smarter, but sometimes it comes down to luck.


    ¡°I think that would be his answer to why he loses. No matter how much he trained, or how strong he became, or how hard he tried. Someone can come along that does all those things better and beat you, and sometimes the other guy just gets lucky and pulls off an upset.¡±


    Malo knew every word said already, but never contextualized it in terms of himself. He seems to always be the strongest, and often the smartest person in the room.


    Glancing at Maddie, what happens when he meets someone smarter and stronger?


    ¡°Thank you, Blas for those answers. I¡¯d like that tour of your dad¡¯s collections now if you¡¯re still up for it.¡±


    Malo looks at the wall of merchandise, ¡°Let¡¯s lighten things up. What was Ultimate War¡¯s first piece of merchandise?¡±


    Blas smiles as he recalls a near lost memory, ¡°That would be this little figurine in the corner.


    ¡°There¡¯s a funny story about how it came about¡­¡±


    Maddie joined the two as Blas showed all the toys, cups, mugs, towels, and random and sundry items.


    It¡¯s after dark when Malo and Maddie leave with promises to return if ever in El¡¯Hat again.


    The two are walking silently down the sidewalk for close to ten minutes, all the while Malo can tell Maddie is wrestling with some internal conflict.


    ¡°Maddie, is something bothering you?¡±


    Sad, ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Will you tell me what it is?¡±


    Stubborn, ¡°It¡¯s you. I don¡¯t want to leave you. I sought you out because I thought you lied about our meeting.¡±


    Hopeful, ¡°Then while I searched for you, I found out that there are dozens of stories, and I¡¯ve researched their origins and none of them came from you.¡±


    Malo isn¡¯t following, and says as much, ¡°You¡¯re going to have to be more specific.¡±


    Sullen, ¡°After meeting you a second time, I realize you¡¯re not a liar.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s what¡¯s bothering you?¡±


    Angry, ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to upset you. We can talk about this later; do you have somewhere to stay overnight?¡±


    Confused, ¡°Stay? Why would I stay anywhere just because it¡¯s night?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I guess that means you don¡¯t sleep. I can understand that. Is that what¡¯s upsetting you?¡±


    Still angry, ¡°No, it¡¯s stupid and I don¡¯t want to say.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine with me, I can wait until you¡¯re ready to share.¡±


    Angrier, ¡°Grrrr, I¡¯m upset because I need to leave you.¡±


    They both walk in silence again.


    Malo speaks first this time, ¡°It¡¯s ok if you go. You found me once, I¡¯m sure you can find me again.


    ¡°I never tried making one, but some of the master¡¯s at Mammatus could make machines that allow them to talk over any distance. Maybe if we put our heads together, we can make some of those and talk any time.¡±


    Happy, ¡°That¡¯s a great idea; wait one minute.¡±


    Maddie looks at the ground and after 55 seconds she pulls a small figurine of a dragon out of her pocket and shows it to Malo.


    ¡°Take this, and anytime you need me, hold it in your palm and speak my name.¡±


    Taking the black serpent, he¡¯s surprised by the weight.


    Proud, ¡°It¡¯s heavy because I wanted to protect you from the power source.¡±


    ¡°Did you just make this?¡±


    Shy, ¡°I prefer to say fabricate. Do you like it?¡±


    Studying all the details, he can¡¯t see a single flaw or difference from the full-sized version he encountered last year, ¡°It¡¯s beautiful, can I really, keep it?¡±


    Maddie¡¯s voice now comes from the tiny dragon, ¡°Yes, stupid face, that¡¯s why I made it.¡±


    ¡°Whoa, that¡¯s so bang-up! I¡¯ll treasure this and use it to call you as often as I can. Thanks Maddie!¡±


    Blushing, ¡°Anything for you Malo. I may want to talk to you sometime. When I do, my pet will do this¡­¡±


    Malo flinches from surprise as the dragon whips its tail back and forth.


    ¡°This just got even more bang-up.¡±


    Holding the tiny dragon to his chest, ¡°So where are you off to now?¡±


    Enthusiastic, ¡°Promise you won¡¯t be mad?¡±


    ¡°Why would I be mad?¡±


    Curtly, ¡°Promise!¡±


    ¡°Ok, ok. I can¡¯t promise how I¡¯ll feel, but I assure you I won¡¯t hold my feelings against you.¡±


    Satisfied, ¡°That was truthfully said.¡±


    Solemnly, ¡°I must travel to the Rocky Waste Mountains and seek the Rangers that live there. I¡¯ve intercepted a communication stating that some fugitives from the north are hiding there.¡±


    ¡°What does that matter to you, are you some kind of bounty hunter for the Blood Empire?¡±


    Sternly, ¡°It¡¯s the Empire of Blood, and no I am not going there to help the north. I want to see if there is anything I can do for the fugitives. They must be important if Cuauht¨¦moc a knight of R?tsel is after them. I feel honor bound to offer assistance.¡±


    ¡°That sounds very noble of you. Why do you feel that way?¡±


    Unsure, ¡°Because they sought the Wildlife Allied Rangers for protection from one of your enemies.


    ¡°The mountain rangers have also signed a mutual trade and defense agreement with your homeland, Brust Valley.


    ¡°If the Empire of Blood attacks the rangers, it could mean war for the valley. I¡¯m going there to make sure that doesn¡¯t happen.¡±


    Malo¡¯s mood sours, ¡°I¡¯m not too fond of that organization, even if they are allied to the valley.¡±


    Ironically, ¡°Yeah, I can tell by your body language.¡±


    Confidentially, ¡°Do you want me to eliminate them?¡±


    Remembering her dragon form exploding from a lake of lava, ¡°No! that won¡¯t be necessary.¡±


    Relieved, ¡°Good, I heard there¡¯s a baby in the camp and it might be one of yours.¡±


    Knowing Sara and Cas ended up in Brust Valley and sure that Sandy went home, that would make it likely Melia¡¯s get. He can¡¯t blame the baby for the actions of the mother, especially since she was under the influence of that sicko Yellow.


    Even realizing and understanding that Melia wasn¡¯t the one who raped him, he still can¡¯t shake the feeling of disgust when he thinks of that place. Maybe time will heal that wound, but for now it¡¯s a stain on his spirit he can¡¯t let go.


    Until then, ¡°Do what you need to do Maddie, I support your decision. You¡¯ll find them in the bear mountains, below the mining town Bearupper.¡±


    Giddy, ¡°Thank you Master! I won¡¯t let you down.¡±


    Malo wanted to ask her to not call him that, but it¡¯s been a long day, and he¡¯s talked out and doesn¡¯t think he¡¯ll be able to change her mind anyways.


    Maddison curtsies, turns around, and skips the other way towards the outskirts of town.


    Outside El¡¯Hat city limits


    Maddison continues her skipping, a mode of transportation that is both fun and faster than walking, until the buildings give way to a sparse forest.


    Up to now all she¡¯s encountered are muggers and a rapist. All were dealt with in the most efficient way she knew, a broken jaw to silence them and a broken leg to keep them from following.


    Now that she¡¯s surrounded by tree¡¯s a different breed of predator is waiting.


    A small pack of ravtor¡¯s are waiting in ambush for anyone taking this path. The alpha is a male, of almost 600 pounds and is straight ahead. She senses two ambushers to her right, and three chasers to her left.


    Maddison stops, gives a low whistle and calls, ¡°Marigold, come.¡±


    The alpha looms from his concealment and trots to her side, circles and stops beside her, squats, and waits for further commands.


    Fishing in the same pocket that had contained the little figurine, Maddie draws out a riding harness and begins attaching it to the powerful ravtor.


    Wonder, ¡°Those rangers are going to be so happy when I reveal that ravtor¡¯s, or sudo-velociraptors were always meant to be their mounts. This will give them a mobility advantage the north will have a hard time countering, won¡¯t it Marigold?


    ¡°And they¡¯re going to need every advantage they can get when the Free¡¯er recalls me.¡±


    Marigold huffs impatiently and gives a shudder as he remembers his role as a beast of burden.

 Chapter Four - Plans

    Blinders Arena, Twoya


    The muted sounds of cheering, punctuated by occasional explosions, permeate the walls of Luscin¡¯s dressing room.


    Sammy can¡¯t contain his excitement any longer, ¡°That was so Bang-Up! You threw that metal guy out of the ring by his foot! I can¡¯t wait to tell everyone I saw you in person!¡±


    Luscin takes the praise as it was meant, ¡°Thank you Sammy, I¡¯m glad you enjoyed the show. But that¡¯s all it was, a pointless show.


    ¡°Radara-san, Master Adara, if it¡¯s ok with you, I¡¯d like to retire from the circuit altogether. I¡¯ve been doing this because that necromancer scrambled my brain to use me as a catspaw, against Malo. He steered me into this career to replace becoming a defender, this life was never something I desired.¡±


    Vania Adara is relieved to hear this. Of all the altered behavior¡¯s resulting from Dorson Milnor¡¯s manipulation, continuing to duel as Fighter-Fox was the only one remaining, ¡°Luscin, it¡¯s entirely up to you.¡±


    Luscin remembering she isn¡¯t alone in this endeavor turns to her husband, ¡°Teum what would you like to do?¡±


    ¡°I was directionless until you dragged me to Mammatus Study; I liked it there. I¡¯d rather be there than here.¡±


    Master Adara drops her Radara-san illusion and starts wiping the red and white makeup off her face, ¡°Excellent, then I can stop painting this mess on my face every morning.


    ¡°But let¡¯s not be too hasty, I think you should announce that you¡¯re taking a yearlong sabbatical with your husband. Everyone will assume it¡¯s to make a couple babies and you¡¯ll return afterwards.


    ¡°This will leave the option of getting back in the ring should the need arise.¡±


    The roar of the crowd permeates the dressing room, signally something significant just transpired in the ring.


    Luscin reluctantly nods along, ¡°If you think it¡¯s best to keep the option open, I¡¯ll concede, but if nothing comes up in the next two years, I¡¯d like to make it permanent.¡±


    Tossing her makeup-stained towel into a hamper, ¡°I can agree to those terms.¡±


    Vania Adara turns her attention to the youth that has joined them, ¡°Now to business. This young man has traveled all the way from Thuma to deliver a package from your father. I have a good idea of what it is, but out of respect and by request of the messenger I have not opened it myself.


    ¡°Teum, please join me next door, while Sammy hands over the package and delivers his message.¡±


    Teum isn¡¯t so sure that¡¯s a good idea but stands reluctantly, ¡°Ok, I¡¯ll go, but I can¡¯t promise I won¡¯t be watching anyways.¡±


    As the door closes Sammy can be heard saying, ¡°He wanted me to make this clear, this isn¡¯t from Father.¡±


    A series of thunderclaps from the current match punctuate the moment.


    Entering the hallway and moving down a door, ¡°Master Adara, what¡¯s this about?¡±


    ¡°As I said, I don¡¯t know for sure of the contents of the message, but I understand the gravity. You will too in a moment. Please hold off on reacting to what you¡¯re about to experience.¡±


    Entering his own dressing room, closely followed by Master Adara, ¡°Way to put me at ease. That doesn¡¯t sound ominous at all.¡±


    Vania Adara was about to respond when the wave of nausea she was expecting sweeps over the room.


    Eye¡¯s watering and speaking through clenched teeth, ¡°Don¡¯t react, it will go away in a moment.¡±


    Teum on the other hand looks awestruck and isn¡¯t about to move.


    After half a minute the message must have been returned to its shielded bad, Vania no longer has to fight the urge to vomit.


    Observing the calmness displayed by Teum she is curious, ¡°What was it that you felt?¡±


    ¡°At first it was revolting, but then all the other feelings hidden underneath came through. I feel as though I was just given all at once a lifelong friend, a friend that I knew through times of suffering, achievement, love, and hate. They had hopes and dreams, all sacrificed to save a friend.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened, but I feel like my life is better for having felt it. Can you tell me what that was?¡±


    It¡¯s Vania¡¯s turn to take a mind clearing breath, ¡°That is how you know the seal on a message is legitimately from the Emperor of the Empire of Blood. It¡¯s his seal, and it can only be made through the sacrifice of a life.¡±


    Looking skyward as if the answer she seeks is on the ceiling, ¡°Your response is not what I was expecting. All I felt was revulsion at the waste of spirit, sacrificed and trapped by ink to be used as a signature.


    ¡°Yet, you saw through that and was able to detect the person themselves. Did they really choose to sacrifice themselves? Was this not forced upon them?¡±


    Surprised to find himself advising one of his masters, ¡°Sometimes there is little difference between choosing and being forced. Often, we mask our decision to do the inevitable by pretending we have a choice.¡±


    ¡°That was wisely put. You and Luscin should return to Mammatus so we can elevate the two of you to the status of Defender.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll take you up on that, but first we agreed to meetup with Malo back at Murder Beach after completing our respective errands.¡±


    ¡°I look forward to seeing all three of you returning home, but first we should return next door, now that Luscin has put that thing away.¡±


    After returning and retaking their previous positions, Teum asks, ¡°I understand the message was accompanied by an Emperors Seal, what did it contain?¡±


    Pausing until the cheering from the arena subsides, ¡°It¡¯s a pardon for the two of us, as well as a copy of the original death sentence.¡±


    Teum rubbing the back of his neck, ¡°That¡¯s crazy, why would the Empire of Blood want us dead?¡±


    ¡°Did you already forget the three traitors from El¡¯Hat that we killed?


    ¡°This was released shortly after our first encounter with Knob Cairn.


    ¡°When Father received the notice, he delayed the release to his people by a few days while he formulated a plan.¡±


    Becoming somber, Luscin continues, ¡°I met him once, though we were never introduced. Sammy tells me his name is Selkie, he was one of the young orphans taken in by Alfie and Felix. Sammy says many of those kids believe; had I not intervened they would have been sacrificed to the Hag.


    ¡°Selkie did this because he thought he was paying off a debt.¡±


    Softening, ¡°I asked no price then and I ask none now. I am a Defender, it¡¯s my¡­ my¡­


    ¡°Arrgh, there must be another word lost or missing! I could say, duty, job, role, or responsibility, but it is so much more than that.¡±


    Clutching the silver lined bag to her chest, ¡°Selkie I will not allow your sacrifice to be taken in vain. Together, we will defend those that need defending.¡±


    The three witnesses have no doubt about those words and remain silent until Luscin appears ready to continue.


    Realizing everyone is watching, Luscin¡¯s cheeks flush in embarrassment, ¡°Thank you for humoring me, I¡¯m sure I sounded foolish. I can¡¯t help but get emotional when I think about those days. So many memories were lost that I hold the ones that survived in my heart as well as my thoughts.¡±


    Master Adara takes the initiative and steers the conversation to a neutral but necessary topic, ¡°We Defenders have some huge problems before us. I¡¯d like to have all of your input, especially yours Sammy, as an outsider and someone unburdened by our recent struggles you may present an insight that we would overlook.¡±


    Can he contribute, Vania has no idea. Ensuring he speaks up if he can, is paramount in this situation. Sammy is young and has no idea how big a moment this is, he simply rolls with the invitation and nods his head affirmative.


    Master Adara continues, ¡°The way I see it we have three problems to tackle. First there¡¯s an army being amassed to the north that is able to combine the gift of its members to levels that scared Malo on first contact. In our current state, the Defenders from Mammatus could not stop them all.


    ¡°Second, our enemies have infiltrated many of our studies, including Mammatus. It¡¯s paramount that we root out these traitors and neutralize them.


    ¡°Third, the nations of South Cenoka are independent with no history of working together. Somehow we must unit them against this threat from the North.¡±


    Sammy¡¯s youthful nature allows him to speak first, ¡°There¡¯s a fourth problem.¡±


    Vania nods, indicating he should continue.


    ¡°I can¡¯t speak to the situation of the other families, but Father¡¯s organization is beholden to the same Empire that is building that army. When the fighting begins, I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ll be on the wrong side of that fight.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know where orders like the one I showed Luscin came from until, I saw it takes a pardon from the emperor himself to counter it. It¡¯s a poorly kept secret that there¡¯s someone in Vorg that ultimately calls the shots. That implies they may be working for the north too, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Master Adara takes in this fourth problem, files it away and focuses on the question presented, ¡°Not necessarily. The People¡¯s Province of Vorg is an old and institutionalized country. It¡¯s run by the party, which includes everyone, but the real decision makers are the heads of the wealthy families. Who use the party construct to make the citizenry feel like they are all equal, when the only real equality is the level in which they suffer.


    ¡°The most likely scenario is one or more of the Free¡¯er¡¯s disciples are acting as the head of a family and using that seat of power to control Thuma¡¯s and the other cities criminal organizations.


    ¡°What do you think Luscin?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea; I was isolated from all of that. When I ran away, I was only five, and didn¡¯t learn the truth until I returned several years ago.¡±


    Teum has been standing back, takes a step closer to the others, ¡°I¡¯ve taken a few trips there since Luscin¡¯s return.¡±


    This is news to Luscin, ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°I could tell by your behavior that your family was progressive when it comes to things like marriage, but I didn¡¯t know who your parents were until recently.


    ¡°I went to Thuma to introduce myself and to ask forgiveness for not seeking their acceptance of proposal. You might be glad to know that both your mother and father were pleased and assured me that they would not have stood in my way.


    ¡°While I was there, your father, in his role as Father, took me aside and explained some of the inner workings of the family operation, in case I ever wanted to get involved.


    ¡°He only did so out of courtesy and tradition, he quickly said he would be equally proud to have another Defender in the family as another heir.


    ¡°But, getting back to the important part, he straight up admitted that he¡¯s under the yoke of the House of Vitus. They act independently for the most part, but when Mateo Vitus says jump, they jump.¡±


    Both Vania and Sammy look a little confused.


    Vania recovers first, ¡°That seems like a lot to share upon a first meeting.¡±


    Now Luscin speaks up, ¡°Not really, he¡¯s family and that means everything to Father. If Teum were to betray him, there would be serious consequences. Sammy knew orders came out of Vorg, and he¡¯s still on parole. I imagine the connection to House Vitus isn¡¯t such a big secret.¡±


    Sammy nods along, he was more surprised that Teum was accepted so quickly without having to pass any sort of tests¡­ or did he and he didn¡¯t say?


    ¡°Teum, did Father have you prove yourself?¡±


    ¡°You know I was afraid he¡¯d pull something like that, but he respects the Defenders oath to protect the weak superseding the enforcement of laws as being close enough to his own credo.¡±


    Luscin speaks again, ¡°I didn¡¯t know he had a credo, what is it?¡±


    Teum looks a little embarrassed, ¡°That was a poor word choice on my part, he tried to explain¡­ no he was trying to justify what he does. He told me that the people of Thuma don¡¯t have Defenders, and the local government is corrupt and refuses to protect its people. His protection racket is no different than taxation, except he uses his profits to fund an information network that spans the continent. He uses the information he gathers and feeds it to the trade merchants. He also controls people of influence at every level of Thuma¡¯s government. That used to be someone else job, but he usurped it somehow, I didn¡¯t pry.¡±


    Sammy adds, ¡°He hasn¡¯t always been as philanthropic as he is now, but he¡¯s become a more benevolent crime boss as he ages; everyone says so. His turning point is credited to Luscin running away and eventual return. He now runs orphanages and other openly public businesses. In part to launder his money, but they all benefit the people of Thuma. His only enemies are the elites that used to own the Thuma government.¡±


    Master Adara reigns the conversation back on track, ¡°Ok, there are four problems facing us. I¡¯m well placed to root out the traitors of each study. I was going to send Luscin and Teum to scout out the army to the north, but now I think they need to contact Father.


    Giving Sammy a side-eye glance, ¡°That leaves us with scouting the enemy forces and uniting the nations of South Cenoka.¡±


    Sammy throws his hands up, ¡°Don¡¯t look at me, I have my orders to return to Thuma the moment I delivered my package. I should have left 30-minutes ago.¡±


    Vania laughingly continues, ¡°That was cruel of me, I would not send someone as young as you into the heart of the Empire of Blood, and you don¡¯t have the wardrobe to serve as an ambassador.


    ¡°Lucky for us, I know someone that is instantly recognizable everywhere he goes, and he¡¯s had the experience of running a small kingdom for a few weeks. I believe Master Feltman would be our ideal ambassador.¡±


    Teum and Luscin both ask, ¡°Who?¡±


    Curtly, ¡°You know precisely of whom I speak, Master Malo Feltman Brusk of Mammatus Study.¡±


    Teum groans out, ¡°Well with a name that long, I guess he¡¯s the right guy.¡±


    Sammy gets excited, ¡°You guys know Malo? That must be so cool.¡±


    Incredulous, Teum asks, ¡°How do you know Malo?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never actually met him, but I felt his pledge to protect me, the same as everyone else did. It took maybe two weeks for the rumor mill to confirm his name to be Malo. I didn¡¯t know the rest, is it ok if I share this information?¡±


    Master Adara answers, ¡°Let¡¯s keep the names Feltman and Brusk to ourselves, we don¡¯t want to draw unwanted attention to his family or his home. You can tell everyone, that he¡¯s Defender Malo of Mammatus study. How does that sound?¡±


    Disappointed, ¡°I guess that¡¯s fair.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m returning to Mammatus right after I write up the press release announcing your plans to take a sabbatical. Once there I¡¯ll start the hunt for spies at Mammatus and branch out to the others. I¡¯ll also see which of our masters are up to scouting that army.¡±


    Teum muses, ¡°I bet Master Terius would take that job.¡±


    A chorus of boos from the arena drown out the beginning of Master Adera¡¯s reply.


    ¡°¡­but I thought of a fifth problem that he¡¯s uniquely qualified to tackle.¡±


    Luscin chides, ¡°You¡¯re making a lot of decisions, are you planning on taking the headmaster job for yourself?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not! I¡¯m assigning myself work so I can be away until one of the others steps up.¡±


    ¡°Ok, you don¡¯t want to be headmaster, but what is this extra problem you¡¯ve identified that only Master Terius can handle?¡±


    ¡°There are hundreds of duelists working independently and competing in one of the many fight circuits. Some are good people, others not so much. When the fighting begins, many will go to whoever has the deepest pockets. I¡¯m sorry to say that will be the Empire of Blood.


    ¡°While thinking about the press release, I was about to write another thought occurred to me.


    ¡°How could we bring all those duelists together and keep them too busy to fight in a war?¡±


    Vania pauses to heighten the drama, ¡°Instead of announcing the return of Fighter-Fox, what if Mammatus hosted a tournament like the old days, with Master Leonis Terius ¡°The Terror of Mammatus¡± taking on all challengers?¡±


    The Keep in Brust Valley


    Ethan Moon hates being late, and here he is ten minutes behind schedule. He never envies those with the gift until moments like this where he wishes he could do that fast-travel thing they do and sail across court yards in a blink of an eye.


    He¡¯d run, but there are too many eyes around, and rushing about would sully his image. Better late than perceived as a panicky fool.


    Almost there, upon reaching the steps to the keeps grand entry he allows himself to take them two at a time. That¡¯s not rushing, it¡¯s a display of fitness and vigor he tells himself. A brisk walk to the stairs, with another fitness demonstration and he¡¯s rounding the corner to his office.


    He¡¯s within a minute of the meetings start time, Lord Tomas Brusk will surlily understand.


    Entering his office and ready to apologize, Ethan stops short when he see¡¯s the room is empty.


    Sitting at his desk and grabbing his calendar book, a quick review of the days appointments confirms his understanding of this meeting time; he was not mistaken.


    Tomas has a busy schedule and by the end of any day it may as well be thrown out the window. This is his first appointment of the day, missing it is a bad sign. Ethan starts reviewing the possible plans should they decide to move forward.


    It¡¯s almost an hour before Tomas arrives. Disheveled and distracted, not looking himself one bit.


    Standing as protocol demands, Ethan speaks first throwing protocol the way of the morning schedule, ¡°What happened to you?¡±


    Dropping roughly into one of the three chairs at the small round table used for working meetings such as this, Tomas doesn¡¯t respond.


    Ethan approaches slowly, Tomas has a huge decision to make. One that will not be popular with the family back west. Even his mother, Lady Terara might not approve.


    Joining his lord, Ethan waits.


    Tomas stirs as if just noticing Ethan for the first time and asks, ¡°What would you do, if you were me?¡±


    ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d make the same decision as you¡¯re about to make; whatever is best for the people of Brust.¡±


    ¡°Nicely dodged, old friend.¡±


    ¡°Oh, is that what we are now? We¡¯ve known each other for thirteen-years, which happens to also be our ages. There¡¯s nothing old about either of us.¡±


    ¡°This decision is going to make me prematurely grey.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so dramatic, my lord. One hard decision isn¡¯t going to age you eighty-years.¡±


    ¡°Really, you think I only have eighty years before I lose my dashing good looks?¡±


    Seeing his ¡°old¡± friend smile, Ethan takes a chance, ¡°Answer quick, what¡¯s best for the people of Brust?¡±


    ¡°Freedom¡­ security¡­ umm, I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t give them both, one requires the compromise of the other.¡±


    ¡°The threat we face, will take away both of those things if you don¡¯t make the right decisions.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m acutely aware of that fact. I need to change my perspective and stop thinking like Lord Brust and consider what the people would do if I weren¡¯t in their way.¡±


    Ethan offers, ¡°If I lived in one of the valley circles and knew an invasion force was on the way, I¡¯d flee the valley if I could. Baring that possibility I¡¯d stock my home with as much food and water as possible, build an underground bunker, and try to hide until the invaders leave.¡±


    ¡°What if the invaders don¡¯t choose to move on. What if they decide to stay?¡±


    ¡°I would venture out at night and launch sneak attacks, to make the invaders too uncomfortable to want to stay.¡±


    It¡¯s Tomas¡¯s turn to get a rushed but honest answer, ¡°Answer quickly, do you trust this new commander?¡±


    ¡°No, I can¡¯t trust a usurper. We allied ourselves with the rangers under Mayor Commander Fenna, less than a year into that alliance we get notified that she answers to this general that nobody has heard of.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Ethan, I know what I need to do now.¡±


    Standing and placing his hands behind his back as his father used to do, ¡°Firstly, I¡¯d like you to draft a letter to General Job and request he present himself at his earliest convenience.


    ¡°Secondly, we¡¯re going to do exactly as you suggested. Issue a discreet request for plans for a war-time capital. When the time comes, we must be in a defensible position, with supplies, and counter-strike capabilities; and by we, I mean the entire population of the valley and the capacity to double it in the case of refugees.¡±


    ¡°That will not come cheap.¡±


    ¡°Father was an absolute cheapskate with the people¡¯s money, all the castle expenses have come out of the family¡¯s share of the business transactions at the gate.


    ¡°When the treasury runs dry, I¡¯ll drain my accounts in Rebirth. If that isn¡¯t enough I¡¯ll go to the family with my hat in hand and beg for the rest.¡±


    Turning to the window and looking out at the sun, still low in the sky, ¡°I will not allow my people to suffer without the opportunity to return that suffering ten-fold upon their tormentors.


    ¡°If one soldier draws blood in my valley, I¡¯ll not stop punishing them until my banner flies over Anapa.¡±


    Ethan is only speechless for a few moments, ¡°Sir. My Lord, I fully support your intentions, but even with the rangers as an army we could never take the fight to Anapa.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have the manpower to take and hold that much land.¡±


    Still looking out the windows, ¡°Ethan, our trade alliance with the rangers of Bearlower isn¡¯t the first to demand mutual obligations of defense.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to review every treaty we¡¯ve signed with the independent nations of South Cenoka by lunchtime.


    ¡°Join me in my study with the draft summoning General Job, the request for proposal, vis-¨¤-vis the war time capital and the many treatises I requested in hand.¡±


    His earlier feelings of doubt gone, Lord Tomas Brusk turns decisively and exits Ethan Moon¡¯s office. Marching confidently to his study, he stops to load up on some pastries and a few pieces of fruit from one of the platters left out for visitors on his way.


    Reaching his office, the food goes in a trash can along with the contents of his stomach.


    To no one but himself, ¡°What am I doing? I just vowed to conquer a continent in retaliation for an attack that is certain to come.¡±


    Looking at the family portrait, painted two years before his father¡¯s death, ¡°Dad, is this what you would have done?¡±

 Chapter Five – Loyalties

    Murder Beach, Under-town Sanctuary


    Missionary Renzo, formerly known as Capitano Lorenzo Fuoco sits across from Mayor Fetter of Murder Beach contemplating the question of duty and who he serves. Up until he met Miss Jones it was so easy; his duty was to the People¡¯s Province of Vorg and the Party that makes it run. Sure, he had some doubts due to the obvious daily corruption he witnessed but that¡¯s the nature of people. The party worked to keep those people in check. Even top-level officials would get jailed on corruption charges from time to time. He has a duty to uphold the ideals of the party that has provided for him all his life.


    Then there¡¯s the duty to his wife. She¡¯s always been supportive of his work as a Cohortes Urbanae. Of course, the same could be said of him, her works as a chirurgo keeps her at the hospital for as many late nights as his polizia paperwork. It¡¯s more than that though, they both agreed to dial back their careers for a decade to raise a family. They should be applying for lighter duties about now and he doesn¡¯t know when this infiltration job will be complete. He has a duty to fulfill his promise to his wife to start a family.


    This job has two facets, on the face of it; there¡¯s infiltrating the under town of Murder Beach and uncover its secrets. On the other side, there¡¯s the job of keeping Miss Jones from harm. A job that should now be simpler as he¡¯s learned the monster known as Knob Cairn perished at the hands of the vigilante Terius the Terrible. But the kill order for Miss Jones is still in force, until that is rescinded, he has a duty to protect her.


    Nearly a quarter second has passed since Mayor Fetter asked him of what duties is he obligated and does he have any unbreakable loyalties.


    Having categorized his duties, he should address his loyalties. First there¡¯s the Party of the People¡¯s Province of Vorg. They provided food and shelter to his family for generations. He¡¯s been told they could never have supplied those things on their own without the assistance of the people¡¯s party. Except now that he¡¯s been outside of Vorg, he¡¯s seen nothing but prosperity everywhere he looks.


    The poorest place he visited during his travels was the tiny fishing community of Mosquito Beach. Everyone was healthy, fed, dressed in sturdy, durable clothes that befit their lifestyle. The only thing they were poor in was things. Extravagance and luxury were not present, but not because they were poor. They had so few things because they chose to live in isolation, away from the noise and bother of a large town on a trade route. When they had the opportunity to purchase an essential item like soap, they had no lack of capital to broker the purchase.


    The ease at which that transaction took place still marvels him. No paperwork, no appointment, no queue, not even a receipt. Miss Jones handed over a few bars of soap and they were served two square meals, a battery top-off, and given access to the pier. Thinking about the efficiency of the transaction made him realize all the overhead the party and their bureaucracy adds. They say you don¡¯t pay taxes in Vorg because there is no money, when in reality the party taxes every facet of the peoples lives with their unnecessary bureaucratic overhead.


    Capitano Lorenzo Fuoco was born and raised in the People¡¯s Province of Vorg, all the people of Vorg have lived, toiled, and suffered the same conditions. There is a kinship they all have for having endured the same pains. Renzo now sees how the Party, the same apparatus that claims to solve our problems is the source of those same problems. The so called ¡°Great Families¡± are reaping the benefits of the people¡¯s labor. His duty is to the people of Vorg, as is his loyalty, not to the PPoV or the Party.


    His duty to his wife. The idea of slowing down their careers and starting a family was his idea. They¡¯ve been growing apart for two years now. Renzo has tried to share the blame, but he works late less than one night a week, where his wife, Clodia does the opposite, coming home on time once a week. Some nights until well after midnight, her excuse being the day¡¯s activities required her and her fellow surgeons to blow off steam at some unnamed watering hole near their hospice.


    His plea to ease off their work duties and start a family was his attempt to save his marriage. Something, when he thinks about, he saw no evidence that she shared his concerns. His duty and feelings for his wife, have not been reciprocated in years. His present distance from his domestic circumstances have brought clarity to where his loyalty should lay, and it¡¯s not with her.


    The matter of Miss Jones is not as easy to quantify. She¡¯s done him no wrong and has kept her end of their bargain perfectly. She offered him a job and he accepted. She needs to be seen safe until the kill order is lifted, that he can do. Now that Cairn is no longer hunting them, all she need do is lay low until her people do what they do and ¡°fix¡± the problem.


    She belongs to one of the families, a minor family, but still a family. Does she deserve the same disdain he feels for the others? Her family fixes things for the other¡¯s, operating outside the rules of the party. Does that redeem them or make them worse? Do they only fix the problems of the PPoV at the behest of the other families or do they do it for the greater good? The Capitano will need to investigate the situation further before deciding that loyalty.


    His last duty is to investigate the under-town and discover what secrets they are hiding. It¡¯s obvious now that he¡¯s sitting on a bench in a sanctuary decorated with ornate tapestries and paintings depicting ancient battles. Many feature a glorious figure smiting all that attack the city walls. A figure that took a vow to defend all that live within that city, no matter the enemy.


    Another quarter second has passed, he should consider his response further.


    Investigating these people turned out to be much easier than expected, a recent event has given them the confidence to no longer hide underground and motivated them to take their message out into the world.


    That recent event was the appearance of a young man of giant proportions, a man that if you are to believe the stories has achieved a fifth spiritual ascension. That same giant is said to have broken the bond between the Free¡¯er and the Dragon; another element depicted in the shrine downstairs. If that mural is truly a representation of what¡¯s to come, he will bring upon the return after two more ascensions.


    It¡¯s a fantastic story but one that¡¯s hard to believe, that is until they shared the identity of the young man, they say is the harbinger of the return. That man is named Malo, and when he and Miss Jones were on their journey here, Malo made himself felt across the entire world and pledged to defend it. It was only a wash of feelings, but they were so clear and impossible to misunderstand. That man pledged to defend Renzo personally, it was the same for everyone who will speak of that moment. The promise was not a platitude or generalization to save the world. That young man with all his power will use it to defend the smallest of us, not just the greatest.


    That is an ideal Renzo finds very attractive.


    Further expanding on the mysterious man¡¯s story; it seems Miss Jones has met a pair of his friends and they spoke very highly of his intelligence and his unique perspective of the world. They both seemed awed by his strength. They did so with no knowledge of the mural or the book of prophecies.


    One of those prophecies was fulfilled in the very spot directly in front of him. The young man¡¯s fifth ascension was to take place in a place of quiet grace and break the alter where the light shines alone. There before him is the lone alter of Eternal Grace, in a sanctuary shielded he¡¯s told from all forms of energy, making it blessedly quiet to gifted people. The fifth ascension happened with the death of his lifelong mentor, a Master from Mammatus Study, grief-stricken Malo smashed the alter, thus fulfilling the requirements of the prophecy.


    With less than a second passing since hearing the question, the former Capitano has made his decision.


    Releasing quick-thought, ¡°There is no duty greater than spreading the word of Grace Eternal. There are no bonds of loyalty so strong as to keep me from spreading the word. I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    Mayor Fetter is stunned, ¡°Really, are you sure you don¡¯t need more time to consider?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve considered my decision from many angles. The only thing that can keep me here another day is your word that Malo is returning here to meet up with the mutual friends of my former traveling companion.


    ¡°They were once her protector and are partially why she is in danger. I will return that responsibility to them and if Grace favors me, I may get to meet Malo in person.¡±


    Mayor Fetter touches his heart, ¡°Grace Eternal upon you.¡±


    Returning the gesture, Missionary Renzo repeats, ¡°Grace Eternal upon you.¡±


    Rocky Waste Mountain Range, Bearlower


    Commander Fenna is looking at the report submitted by Jadeen, no Seer Jadeen. That woman has been a pleasant surprise of resourcefulness. Something the little general was quick to realize and capitalize upon.


    It turns out that Job has some unique abilities and even some knowledge not shared by others, but he¡¯s too young to understand much of it. The child excels at judging a person¡¯s character and assessing their capabilities. He asked the human Elias to be his Chief of Staff before learning that he once held exactly that roll with another War Born encampment. He recognized Jadeen¡¯s clever mind and asked her to investigate his own ability to seemingly loan his gift to others.


    Afte two months of interviewing his parents and experimenting, she thinks she¡¯s cracked the code and if she¡¯s right, this will be a battle turning discovery. She is to report her findings this afternoon.


    Before that though, there¡¯s a meeting with Senior Chief of Staff Elias.


    It¡¯s exactly an hour after noon, when her own Chief of Staff, Loua taps on her door and announces, ¡°Senior Chief of Staff Elias is here to see you, shall I let him in?¡±


    ¡°Please do.¡±


    Pushing the door open himself, Elias arrogantly sweeps into the room, ¡°Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.¡±


    Taking a seat uninvited, ¡°What are we going to do about this?¡±


    Commander Mayor Fenna knowing full well what he¡¯s talking about, ¡°What are we going to do about what?¡±


    Elias gives her his best dead eyed stare, ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb with me, you were briefed this morning as was I. This Tomas of Brust is demanding General Job present himself, like a common Lost Child.¡±


    Commander Fenna had been at this longer, she should cut Elias some slack, but his attitude makes it difficult, ¡°He¡¯s half right, he is a child after all.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s prudent of Lord Tomas to do as he is.


    ¡°He negotiated a treaty with the Ranger¡¯s of Bearlower, he knows nothing of your general. You may be human, but you¡¯ve been around our kind for too long. You¡¯re thinking like a War Born, when this situation requires a human touch.


    ¡°Luckily, you have me. I¡¯m considered soft by our kind and can temper your learned aggressive behavior.


    ¡°So, let¡¯s hear it.¡±


    Elias narrows his eyes, he doesn¡¯t like being spoken down too, especially by War Born, ¡°Hear what?¡±


    Acting innocent, ¡°What would you have me do about this?¡±


    Elias might have grown arrogant in the last month, but he knows when he¡¯s being out maneuvered. Carefully he responds, ¡°Let¡¯s clear up what this is.


    ¡°This small fry kingdom is testing us. What game are they playing?¡±


    Shaking her head, ¡°You may be a genius at logistics, but you have no head for politics. This is no game or simple challenge of authority. This is a demand to be introduced to the new player that has usurped the trade authority of Bearlower. The governing body in which they entered into a mutual agreement of trade and defense.¡±


    Fenna pauses to let that sink in, ¡°If you look at it from their perspective, your General is an unknown third party claiming to speak for their trade partner.


    ¡°Under similar circumstances, would you not want to meet your new ally, face to face?¡±


    Elias doesn¡¯t like hearing the truth, but he knows it when he hears it, ¡°I suppose you are correct.


    ¡°But what should we do? We have a war to prepare for.¡±


    Fenna can¡¯t help but smile as she answers, ¡°Think of this as an exercise in command structure. A general must command his troops no matter where they are deployed. You should be able to accommodate his travel and keep the war effort preparations underway.¡±


    Now it¡¯s Elias¡¯ turn to smile, ¡°Are you saying this is my problem?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s precisely what I¡¯m saying. Work out the logistics or have our entire treaty fall apart.¡±


    ¡°You say that like it¡¯s a bad thing.¡±


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Commander Fenna gives a scolding look before responding, ¡°Would it be bad to lose our trade with Twoya, the source of our armaments? Would it be a bad thing to lose our trade with Oiho, our primary source of grain and dairy?


    ¡°Our alliance with Brusk gives us more than just the finest felt, which we use to manufacture much of our uniforms. It opens the door to all the other city states of South Cenoka. For all of that our young General should happily meet with our first and most important ally.¡±


    Cheeks flushing pink, ¡°Commander Fenna, I apologize. General Job¡¯s importance can get the better of me at times. I will make arrangements for him to travel to Brusk as soon as I work out the communication logistics for the trip.¡±


    Standing as abruptly as he sat, ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, I have much work to do.¡±


    Watching the human Elias leave, Mayor Fenna wants to laugh at how much her world was turned upside down by the runt Malo.


    Raising her voice just enough to be heard in the next room, ¡°Loua, let me know when my next appointment arrives.¡±


    She only has to wait another twenty minutes before Seer Jadeen is announced and admitted.


    ¡°Seer Jadeen, I hear you¡¯ve made some progress. Your last report sounds optimistic, what more can you tell me?¡±


    Jadeen may not have working eyes, but she can navigate her environment better than any person with sight. Stopping a half step from the Commanders desk she stands at attention and gives her report.


    ¡°Thank you, Commander, for seeing me in person, when a written report would have sufficed.¡±


    Commander Fenna reads enough reports and prefers verbal communications, ¡°Your work is important, I¡¯m sure to have questions. Please proceed.¡±


    ¡°As you know I¡¯ve been investigating our general¡¯s ability to share his gift with others. At first glance, it appeared to be something he could only do for his parents and under stress. That would have stood up to most scrutiny until I started talking to his other um, staff?¡±


    Fenna was ready for this awkward moment, ¡°You mean caretakers. He¡¯s not yet a year old, he needs tutors and responsible adults around him at all times; please continue.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ as I was saying. The other caretakers that spend time with him are also picking up traces of his gift. At first, I thought it was simply proximity, but after interviewing all the people in his circle I noticed a pattern.


    ¡°Only his most loyal companions are able to tap into his abilities.


    ¡°Which leads me to a theory I¡¯d like to test, if you will allow it?¡±


    Commander Fenna wasn¡¯t expecting this but is pleased, ¡°What is the nature of this theory and how can you test it?¡±


    ¡°My theory suggests that anyone that pledges themselves to Job is able to tap into his abilities. I want to test if that connection is reciprocal.¡±


    Commander Fenna isn¡¯t sure what that means and raises an eyebrow to signal her confusion.


    ¡°What I mean, is I¡¯d like to test if someone who is gifted were to pledge themselves to the general, if he would gain their abilities and would he be able to share it as if it were his own.¡±


    Mayor Commander Fenna feels a wave of disappointment, ¡°That sounds great, but we don¡¯t have a whole lot of people with the gift, and he already possesses more than any of them.¡±


    Seer Jadeen would glare if she had eyes, ¡°I was thinking of myself. He has many abilities, but mine is unique and only shared by one other person that I know of.¡±


    Commander Fenna sits back in her chair, fingers steepled, ¡°Can you do that? Pledge yourself to a child?¡±


    Quitting her stance of attention, ¡°Sir, I¡¯ve been looking for someone to lead me to greatness all my life. I was gifted this ability by the Free¡¯er himself. It must be for a reason. The human Elias was given a mission by the Free¡¯er that led us here. It can¡¯t be a coincidence that we crossed paths with the youth. I want to be a part of something bigger than myself. The recent events lead me to believe that Job is at the center of the Return.


    ¡°Allow me to pledge my loyalty to the general. If he can share my gift with others, we will be unstoppable.¡±


    Commander Fenna unable to think of any reasonable objections; curtly nods consent.


    Resuming attention, boots smacking audibly, ¡°I¡¯ll make the arrangements at once. Would you like to be present when I give my oath?¡±


    ¡°Yes, should your theory prove true, we will be changing our battle tactics. Keep Loua informed of your schedule and arrange for my attendance through her.¡±


    Jadeen thumps her chest in salute, ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Commander Fenna having evolved into Mayor Fenna has allowed her military protocols to slip and barely remembers to return the salute.


    The half-hearted hand to heart is enough for Seer Jadeen, she about faces and exits the office. Leaving Mayor Commander Fenna to her paperwork.


    It seems to Fenna that the sun was just at its peak a moment ago when she sees the long shadow of bear mountain covering half her valley. It¡¯s too early in the year for the days to feel this short she gripes to herself.


    Needing a break, she allows her mind to wander. A tap on her door interrupts wistful thoughts of her days as a field ranger, ¡°Commander, the proposed demonstration you discussed with Seer Jadeen will be ready in thirty minutes.¡±


    ¡°That was fast, I didn¡¯t expect the general to agree so quickly.¡±


    ¡°My thoughts exactly, but here we are. I arranged for the eastern parade grounds to be clear for our use.¡±


    ¡°So much space, why outside at all?¡±


    ¡°That was at the insistence of the Seer. She cautioned, should this work, the experience will be less traumatic with fewer surfaces in close proximity.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be out in a few minutes; I should finish these requisition forms. Even if this does work, we¡¯ll still need ammunition for all the rifles we purchased. Who knew animal pelts would have such high trade values?¡±


    Snickering at the common joke amongst rangers, ¡°Well we do kill anyone else who tries to hunt these mountains. Having a monopoly is the kind of trade our kind is best suited.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that and conquest. I guess defending something isn¡¯t so different in action. Only the intent and result differ, the methods are quite similar.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be out shortly.¡±


    Chief of Staff Loua takes that as a dismissal and returns to her own duties.


    Signing her name with practiced efficiency, the form in hand is added to the stack of completed work. Loua will clear the pile and bring her a fresh stack tomorrow.


    ¡°Loua, would you like to accompany me?¡±


    ¡°Sure boss.¡±


    The east parade grounds are empty except for a small group of people. Present is a visibly agitated Sr Chief of Staff Elias, both Reccy and Sarich the parents, Seer Jadeen with her ever-present guide Zephyr, and General Job himself looking entirely too small to be in a war camp.


    Joining them, Commander Fenna asks, ¡°I hope I did not keep you waiting.¡±


    Seer Jadeen has been around competing commanders in the past, speaks quickly, ¡°Not at all, you are early, as are the rest of us.


    ¡°Since we are all here, why don¡¯t we get started.


    ¡°As I¡¯ve told you all on occasion, I have a unique gift that I hope I can share with all of you through General Job. If this experiment works you will be given the sight of potential energy. It¡¯s the closest thing there is to seeing the future.


    ¡°I brought us outside because I hope you will all soon learn that every surface will reflect potential if you are on any sort of collision course with it.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you plan on changing direction before smacking into a wall, you will sense that collision which can induce panic until you learn to filter out such things.


    ¡°General, with your permission I¡¯d like to pledge myself to your cause.¡±


    Job, who to this point was hugging and partially hiding behind his father¡¯s leg looks uncertain. Letting go and stepping forward he begins to look to have resolved whatever inner turmoil plagued him.


    His tiny military uniform does nothing to make him look serious, at twenty-six inches there is nothing that can make him look anything but adorable to all present except Elias.


    Job¡¯s small but confident voice addresses Jadeen, ¡°Are you really prepared to do so? I¡¯ve not told you all of my plans.¡±


    Jadeen was wondering if it would come to something like this, and prepared, ¡°You and I are War Born. We both seek purpose; for without purpose, we will die by our own hands. The details of your plan as well as the desired outcomes matters not to me.¡±


    Quietly Job responds, ¡°Even if I plan on fighting to the last man, woman... and child?¡±


    Seizing the opportunity, Jadeen approaches the general, kneels on both knees and holds her hands out in invitation for Job to take.


    Looking him in the eyes, ¡°General Job Alderman, only surviving son of Sarich and Reccy of Bellburger, I Seer Jadeen of the Barren Waste War Clan, chosen by the Free¡¯er and gifted with potential-sight, give you my binding word of obedience and promise to defend you until I take my dying breath.¡±


    Jadeen doesn¡¯t know if she should expect anything to happen right away or if it will take time. Maybe this was a waste of everyone¡¯s time after all.


    Everyone waits with bated breath until Job¡¯s quiet voice breaks the silence, ¡°I accept.¡±


    Jadeen shudders as something strokes her spirit causing a shiver and a break out of piloerections on her exposed arms.


    Job continues, ¡°Beasts are coming. They run on two feet.¡±


    Quickly returning to his father¡¯s leg, ¡°The rat-tor found us again.¡±


    Jadeen notices it too, something weighing close to seven hundred pounds, and five more smaller beasts are approaching at around ten miles per hour from the west. Also, two humans, their efficient quiet movements marking them as rangers, proceed them.


    ¡°Remarkable, does anyone else feel this?¡±


    Zephyr doesn¡¯t but draws her sword and knife and turns westward.


    Sarich scoops up Job and hands him to Reccy and stands ready to explode at anything that threatens harm against his family.


    Jadeen doesn¡¯t move, nor does Fenna. Ravtor would never charge a populated area on their own. Whatever is coming is not a pack wild ravtor attacking Bearlower.


    The two rangers break through the tree line first, closely followed by three ravtor. Seeing the group, they angle towards them. The pack of ravtor stop pursuing the rangers and linger by the tree line.


    All eyes except for Commander Fenna and Guide Zephyr lock on the approaching rangers. The other two keep peering at something strapped to the back of one of the Ravtor. It¡¯s too dark amongst the trees to make out what it is.


    Commander pulls her eyes from the tree line to address her rangers, ¡°Ranger Puck, report.¡±


    Puck glances at his partner James, who gives him a nod to continue, ¡°We discovered another human trying to infiltrate Bearlower. We tried to stop her two miles out, but she refused to stop and comply with our directions. We only barely beat her here.¡±


    Commander Fenna brings her gaze back to the shadowy outlines at the tree line, ¡°All I see is a pack of ravtor, where is this human?¡±


    In the distance a low whistle that lasts almost two seconds causes the pack to surge forward, before settling into a brisk walk.


    The lead ravtor pulls all eyes as the bundle on its back reveals itself to be a woman.


    Her clothes mark her as youthful, pitch-black cosmetics line her eyes and lips, her hair the same shade of coal black with ash-colored highlights. Wearing a long-sleeved black shirt blazoned with a dragon skull and a split black A-line skirt, and antique combat boots, make her look exotic even if she wasn¡¯t riding the apex predator of South Cenoka like it was a common inu.


    Facing a hostile reception, the lady pulls up short and dismounts her ride in one smooth motion while emitting two low whistles.


    The ravtors halt and look around impatiently while she walks the last four yards, she gives a wave of greetings.


    ¡°Hi, which one of you is in charge?¡±


    Commander Fenna steps forward, ¡°I am Commander Fenna, identify yourself and state your business.¡±


    Curtsying, ¡°My name is Maddison Draco, I came here to make amends for something bad I did a long time ago.¡±


    Nobody knows what to say.


    Breaking the silence, Job speaks up, ¡°I like your rat-tors are they friendly?¡±


    Maddison looks at the child clinging to his father¡¯s legs, ¡°Thank you. They¡¯re all friendly if you know the right commands.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m here to do. I¡¯m going to return to you your rightful mounts.


    ¡°Your Creators designed you and these velociraptors to be companions while you conquered new worlds.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say that I was instructed to sabotage that relationship when I was young.¡±


    They all heard the same words, none of which made any sense.


    ¡°I fabricated two copies of the Sudo-Velociraptor Quick Start Guides for you to reference.¡±


    Pulling the two thin booklets from her skirt pocket, she holds them out.


    Zephyr steps forward and takes them. She flips one open and approaches the anxiously waiting ravtors.


    Job speaks again, ¡°You knew a creator? Did you meet the War Father?¡±


    Stooping down to Job¡¯s height, ¡°You must be the general I heard about.


    ¡°I also heard they call you Job, is that right?¡±


    This snaps Reccy out of her stunned silence, ¡°Where did you hear this?¡±


    ¡°I hear everything. At least everything since Malo liberated me.¡±


    Commander flinches when she hears that name. Problems seem to follow him, what plague of trouble will this strange woman bring?


    Pointing, Job speaks again, ¡°Your rat-tor¡¯s like Zeff.¡±


    Zephyr calls back to them, ¡°This book is amazing. All we need to do is whistle the attunement sequence and they¡¯re ready to obey dozens of commands.


    Climbing on the back of the same ravtor Madison was riding, she takes the reigns and emits a low long whistle.


    All the ravtors begin to move forward. Zephyr guides her mount with the reigns and the others follow.


    Madison claps her hands and hops up and down in delight, ¡°She¡¯s good! I thought I was going to spend the next hour getting you all over your fears.


    ¡°I¡¯m all done here then. Good luck with your war, General Job.¡±


    Turning briskly, she skips her way back to the tree line while the stunned group alternate their slack jawed stares from Zephyr riding a ravtor and the retreating strange girl.


    Commander Fenna after a few awkward starts manages to finally say, ¡°What just happened?¡±


    Elias clears his throat before saying, ¡°I think we were just visited by an emissary of the Dragon.¡±


    Sarich asks, ¡°Why do you say that?¡±


    ¡°She claimed the name of Draco for starters. Then there¡¯s the casual manor in which she handed out knowledge that was held from us for thousands of years. That¡¯s the kind of things the Dragon Priests do.


    ¡°Where do you think all these new firearms are coming from?¡±


    Sarich nods along, then adds, ¡°You forget that she said she was making amends for something she personally did long ago. She knew who my son was without introduction.


    ¡°That was no emissary. I believe we just met The Dragon.¡±


    Commander Fenna adds, ¡°That aligns with what I know of Malo, the man she mentioned to have liberated her. When I last saw him, he was hunted by a Power Lord. Then months ago, while you were in my office that was him, we felt, vowing to defend us.


    ¡°Next he¡¯ll show up holding hands with the Free¡¯er and sing us lullabies until we all go to sleep, I recon.¡±


    That comment elicits a chuckle from Elias.


    ¡°Joking aside, how did your experiment go, Jadeen?¡±


    Jadeen, looks to Job, ¡°Can you access me ability now that I pledged myself to you?¡±


    Job looks frustrated as he tries to understand what he¡¯s been asked. He understands his own nature and role perfectly and can often communicate those facts in a mature manner. That doesn¡¯t change the fact that he¡¯s not a year old yet and is still unlocking words and concepts day by day.


    ¡°I can tell when things are going to bump, and I felt the rat-tor stomps a long way um-way.


    ¡°This is new and scary, there are so many things that can hurt me everywhere.¡±


    Looking over at Reccy, ¡°If it¡¯s ok with you, I can train Job how to use this ability and help assuage his fears.¡±


    ¡°That would be prudent. As for your theory about ability sharing, I too felt the Ravtor¡¯s approach. I believe you¡¯ve contributed greatly to my son¡¯s purpose.¡±


    Everyone spins upon hearing Zephyr¡¯s elated cheer as she reaches a peak speed of forty-miles-per-hour with the other ravtors trailing behind. Racing in a giant arc around the parade ground.


    Commander to Jadeen, ¡°Do you think you can get your guide to give me one of those quick start guides. I think I¡¯d like to ride one too.¡±

 Chapter Six – Tables

    Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-3


    Dhana checks her disguise once more before exiting her private carriage, a blue filter changes her purple hair to a dull red, the normally red tips now shine as if oiled. Her face is treated to an elongation of nose and chin. The same blue filter used on her hair also dulls her eyes from green to yellow.


    This subterfuge isn¡¯t for the people she¡¯s meeting, they know her face well. It¡¯s a stipulation of the Free¡¯er that the faces of the chosen ones can never be revealed to the filth calling themselves human.


    It¡¯s times like these that Dhanashree has doubts about her actions. All of these pointless rules, demanded by their lord and master, each one subtly chipping away at their humanity. Then there¡¯s the seven sacraments, there¡¯s nothing subtle about them, they dehumanize themselves and their victems with each repetition. It disgusts her to perform those acts, but participation is required, supposedly to cement trust in one another and to prove they alone are above all others. Sharing these disgusting taboo vices is supposed to create bonds. Forcing herself to act as if she enjoys them is the catalyst for her nervous habit of singing and rhyming. Furthering her resentment of the acts, she must hide her nervousness, so she masks the involuntary tell by singing and rhyming all the time. A practice that is only tolerable by the obvious annoyance is causes the others. Their every meeting is mentally draining and feeds her self-loathing. At least this meeting is in a neutral public place where everyone should behave like people.


    Entering the eatery she scans the room for anomalies. Seeing no one, she waits.


    A server approaches and asks, ¡°May I help you?¡±


    Catching Dhana¡¯s eye is a man wearing a shirt with a pattern made of tiny cats.


    Dismissing the attentive server, ¡°Never-never mind, I see him now.¡±


    Swerving through the maze of triangular tables joins the man in the cat shirt.


    ¡°Tepey-Te-Tepey, nice-shirt.¡±


    ¡°I knew I¡¯d catch shit for the shirt, but it sure made it easier to make contact, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    Reminding herself, Tepeyollotl was put in charge of running the coming war, for his thinking. Setting aside his Jaguar idiosyncrasies, everything he does is for a reason. Dhana takes one of the remaining two seats.


    Neither have to wait long before a pale woman with white hair and grey eyes takes the last seat without uttering a word.


    Tepey takes a long look at each of them before smiling, ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t me. Would either of you like to deny it?¡±


    Yara is first to respond, ¡°Of course it wasn¡¯t you. I can¡¯t help but notice that you put up an audio barrier the moment I sat. That means you didn¡¯t invite Trebor, the obvious culprit.¡±


    Dhana objects, ¡°We don¡¯t know if he di¡ªd it. While the evidence suggests his involve¡ªment, he had nothing to gain. For that matter, not a one of us¡­ is-aligned, to profit from, her-untimely-demise.¡±


    Yara scoffs, ¡°Suggests? Trebor runs a team of assassins that specialize in locked room murders. He¡¯s the only one of us that could have ordered her execution.¡±


    Tepey adds, ¡°He runs the team, but he also dispatches them on behalf of others. Perhaps one of you two paid to have her killed.¡±


    Yara scolds, ¡°Tepey, you¡¯re a fool! You obviously called the two of us here to conspire against Trebor. Why should we believe your innocence? You¡¯re the youngest of us, with two of us gone in as many months, the Free¡¯er may begin recruiting once again. You probably think that would make us respect you more. Trust me when I say our disrespect has nothing to do with your lack of tenure.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a coincidence that two of our number have died so recently? The rumor everyone accepts is that some student Defender killed him, True-Spirit or not, it¡¯s hard to believe the strongest of us was killed so easily; and we have no idea who infiltrated R?tsel¡¯s private quarters of the temple and tortured her to death.


    ¡°I can¡¯t ignore that there could be a connection between their dea¡­?¡±


    Dhana talks over Tepey, ¡°You cannot possibly¡­ connect the two. Yellow was a¡­ ego¡ªmaniac, that-went-out-of-his-way¡­ to-attack, a trained-defender, possessing a True¡ªSpir¡ªit. And an exceptional-spirit-it-is! We-all-felt¡­ his vow, to protect! ¡­I-was-actually-touched¡­ by¡­ his-sin¡ªcerity.¡±


    Tepey fires back, ¡°Is that it, he flipped you with his sincerity, so you killed R?tsel?¡±


    ¡°That had-to-be, the work of Tre¡ªbor!¡±


    Looking at Tepey, ¡°¡­you believe, that-too¡­ or-you¡¯d, brought him¡­ with-you.¡±


    Nerves on edge, Yara derails the two bickering disciples by changing the subject, ¡°Tepey, what made you choose this spot? We all live in Anapa, and you choose this hole in the wall a continent away?¡±


    Happy for the chance to show how far ahead he is in identifying their enemies, ¡°You¡¯ll learn in a few minutes when two of the three people R?tsel recently issued kill orders against will be having lunch here.


    ¡°I thought this would be a convenient way to show you who they are.¡±


    ¡°You picked this place so we can look at some trash?¡±


    Tepey laughs a full bellied laugh, ¡°Yara, you spend too much time sequestered with your sycophant priests. This world is no longer populated by grey complected ravenous murders. They¡¯ve come a long¡­¡±


    The three disciples all fall quiet at the same time as a group of four enter the bistro together.


    There¡¯s a giant man with black hair and a crooked nose, who stands a head taller than everyone in the restaurant. A skinny man with blue hair, and a prominent limp. A third man of average height, jet black hair with gold tips, and bright red eyes. The fourth member of the group looks childlike in the presence of these men, she has shoulder length black hair with green highlights which perfectly match her eyes.


    But their physical traits aren¡¯t what makes them stand out, the giant and small girl are wearing full Defender battle gear.


    Tepey unnecessarily cautions, ¡°Do not attempt to surveil those two, my every agent that¡¯s tried has been caught within moment of deploying a machine. Use passive observation only.¡±


    Annoyed, Dhana quips ¡°You think us¡­ as clumsy¡­ as your a¡ªgents?¡±


    Flatly, ¡°Yes, but don¡¯t take that as an insult. I trained many of them myself and when it comes to surveillance, I held nothing back. I even shared techniques I learned from Trebor. Those two defenders were trained by the best of the best and I think they have another advantage.¡±


    Yara interrupts Dhaha before she can sing another insult, ¡°What advantage would that be?¡±


    ¡°They are in love.¡±


    ¡°Please, that is nothing new. Surely there¡¯s something more you wanted to share?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s well known in many cities across South Cenoka that they are in love, because they speak the words to one another publicly everywhere they go.¡±


    Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-7 & 8


    Combining two tables to make a square eating surface, ¡°That¡¯s why I love her so much. She adapts and doesn¡¯t allow us to get entangled in situations that are impossible to escape.¡±


    Sighing, Luscin address¡¯s her overindulgent husband¡¯s assertion, ¡°All I did was say we need to focus on our Defender roles. We can play-fight on special occasions, but we have bigger responsibilities. We can¡¯t let Malo carry this burden on his own.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I didn¡¯t know that I wanted that too, I was too caught up in maintaining the status quo to think about the big picture.¡±


    Teum realizes they¡¯re standing in the middle of a crowded bistro and that most everyone is openly watching and listening to their conversation. Rubbing his face to partially hide his embarrassment, ¡°But that¡¯s enough about us, you two wanted to discuss something. Let¡¯s sit and place our orders before getting down to business.¡±


    Teum and Luscin take the seats next to one another that face the door and wait for their guests to take the others. Promptly their server takes their food order and serves everyone chilled water.


    Luscin starts the conversation, ¡°Machine Master, I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯re nearly recovered from our duel.¡±


    Embarrassed, ¡°Thanks for going easy on me Master Lael-Fox. My friends call me Sheen, it would please me if you did too.¡±


    When Luscin and Teum received the invitation to a midday meal with Machine Master and Perfect Technique they had no idea what to expect. Neither expected it to be a casual affair and certainly not friendly.


    ¡°I would like that, and you may call me Luscin. I¡¯ve not yet been raised to full Defender status as of yet, the Master honorific is not mine.¡±


    Their other guest speaks up, ¡°Master Lael-Fox it would honor me as well if the two of you referred to me by my casual name, Nique.¡±


    Luscin wonders if they both took blows to the head, they acted like single-minded stupid-faced idiots during both of their previous encounters. Now they seem human.


    ¡°Ok, that would be nice, but if you insist on using our titles, I am Master La Fox. The French prefix is to honor a teacher that meant a lot to me. His legacy is just one of the many things we are fighting for.¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The conversation pauses as their food arrives. A cast iron skillet with blobs of baked dough, smothered in butter, sugar, and cinnamon is placed in the center of the table, along with a pot of coffee.


    Luscin serves Teum, and then both of their guests before taking a double helping for herself, ¡°Honey, I think it¡¯s time we get down to business, do you mind doing the privacy thing?¡±


    ¡°Anything for you, love.¡±


    Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-3


    Tepey speaks when the conversation becomes incomprehensible gibberish, matching the capability of their own privacy barrier, ¡°Well, what do you think about that?¡±


    Dhana curtly responds, ¡°I¡¯d say we should¡­ kill-them¡­ before-the-word-spreads, but the news, about-the-Love-Tour, escaped the Vorg censors¡­ immediately. It was published-published, in every broadsheet, the-day-after-the-arrest¡­ of the band¡¯s¡­ guitar¡ªist.¡±


    Yara corrects Dhana, ¡°It was the Tour of Love, and Flavia is the Dead Dragon¡¯s lead vocalist.¡±


    Snickering, Tepey accuses, ¡°So you¡¯re a Dead Dragon fan girl now?¡±


    ¡°Hardly, I know these things because I¡¯m literate and read. Plus, I did some research before dispatching a crew to rough them up for defiling my church¡¯s name.¡±


    ¡°Ok, we can all agree there¡¯s nothing to be done about the recent expansion of language. What about the people using said language?¡±


    ¡°I stand¡­ corrected, on the-tour-name. As for the people, it¡¯s hard to-judge-their-strengths; the two with their backs to the door are strong¡­ but nothing special. The two-defenders¡­ ¡°


    continuing flatly, ¡°they have elaborate spirit cloaks, more elaborate than any of us bother to use or require. They mentioned that they are to assist a person called Malo.¡±


    Dhara continues liltingly, ¡°Yara? Remind me. To what-study¡­ did-the-boy¡­ with-the-True¡ªSpirit-go?¡±


    ¡°As you know, that would be Mammatus Study.¡±


    Nodding towards the other table, ¡°The crest on both their uniforms is a cloud, they are from the same study. I agree that it is safe to assume they are allies of the one with the True-Spirit.¡±


    Tepey prods for more, ¡°You both are missing something subtle. It¡¯s a thing we are used to feeling but does not belong here.¡±


    Yara arches an eyebrow, ¡°I¡¯m not feeling any¡­ oh! Who?¡±


    Dhana adds, ¡°I feel it too! Who here, could be carrying¡­ documents! With-an-emperor¡¯s seal?¡±


    Tepey sits back and steeples his fingers as he¡¯s seen Trebor do in similar circumstances, ¡°The woman, Luscin carries it in a silver-lined pouch tucked inside her uniform.


    ¡°It took a lot of effort to attain that information. I ran out of agents casually bumping into her for a quick grope in less than a week, she just-about knows them all by name now. To find out where on her person she keeps it, I had to enlist local help from Twoya¡¯s reigning crime family. They were very efficient, I see why Trebor outsources these things.¡±


    Unaware that she was mirroring Tepey, Yara sat back and steepled her fingers, ¡°Ok, this is not what I expected at all. What document could she carry, is it the reason for the kill order? Or did issuing the order get R?tsel killed?¡±


    Tepey shares, ¡°Before Yellow was killed, R?tsel received a report from her agent Cairn. Her agents in El¡¯Hat were eliminated by those two. It¡¯s been verified that the girl once worked for Yellow, but she might have been a double all along. Before Cairn could ascertain who, he was killed.¡±


    Yara leans forward too, ¡°How exactly were you seeing reports from her agents?¡±


    ¡°You forget I worked for Trebor for twenty years before I ascended. I picked up some spy craft in that time. I think the bigger issue is, how come people that cross those-two end up dead.¡±


    Undeterred, Dhana leans forward too, ¡°I¡¯d ask how many agents you¡¯ve inserted into my house, but I already know.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that was obvious from the information you feed them. That¡¯s part of the process, the information you withhold tells us plenty. But that¡¯s not what we are here to discuss.¡±


    Before he could continue, Teum¡¯s voice cut through the noise.


    Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-7 & 8


    Addressing Nique, ¡°So, you¡¯re saying you don¡¯t know the real identity of Luchador, the duelist who taught you the spirit technique. I guess it doesn¡¯t really matter, now you know not to trust him.¡±


    ¡°Your mid dual advice probably saved both our lives. All it would have taken was one other duelist who knew that techniques weakness and we¡¯d both be dead.


    ¡°I wish I knew his motivation, for deceiving us. You said he might have been using us as bait to get you to expose your spirits. I think he was testing you two, to see if you¡¯d go for the easy kill.¡±


    ¡°Well, that may be, but that¡¯s not who we are. We are Defenders.¡±


    Luscin quietly says, ¡°Master¡¯s Remon, Finner, and Ta Raha were Defenders too. They would have taken the easy kill.¡±


    Teum remains silent for half a minute as he recalls those battles before disabling his privacy machine and shakes off his growing ruminations.


    Returning to his upbeat self, ¡°I¡¯m so excited to have you two onboard. We can accompany you to Mammatus and introduce you to the faculty tomorrow.¡±


    Luscin asks, ¡°Do you two fly?¡±


    Sheepishly, Sheen explains, ¡°I can with the use of one of my machines, but Nique here is fast travel only.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ok. It will take at most two days for you guys to get there. When you do, get rooms at one of the hostels near the study and we¡¯ll meet you in three days.¡±


    The four stand up; each leaving some coins on the table and wind their way between the other dining guests. They exit the bistro; the bell on the door makes a final jingle as the door clicks shut.


    The restaurant goes silent for a moment before a buzz of voices bursts in excitement. Comments fly fast and furious as the patrons who had been holding in their excitement.


    ¡°Did you see who that was?¡±


    Are they forming a new fighting alliance?


    ¡°I think they were recruiting Machine Master and Perfect Technique.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s so tall and cute!¡±


    ¡°They could teach the students so much.¡±


    ¡°They must be forming an alliance!¡±


    ¡°I hear they¡¯re friends with him.¡±


    ¡°My daughter won¡¯t believe I saw Fighter-Fox!¡±


    Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-3


    Dhanashree is shocked as the room¡¯s sudden transformation. She knew her table was acutely aware of the two defenders at the other table, she had no idea the entire room was just as attuned to their presence. Is it because of their time as professional duelist or something else?


    Tepey and Yara know why because they felt it too. Those two, even with their elaborate spirit cloaks, are something special. They hide it as best they can, but their True-Spirits shine too bright to be veiled by a shield, no matter how elaborate.


    City, Province of Rebirth


    Lady Terara is about to face her second most dreaded meeting of her week. The twins had originally wormed a daily appointment onto her schedule, luckily her day is now full enough for her to claim not having time for them more than once a week. They angled for a full hour to replace the quarter hour daily appointments, she reluctantly settled for half an hour. If nothing else, being rude to them is amazingly cathartic. Maybe today¡¯s nonsense will allow her to get creative.


    Throwing herself back into her work allows her to put off thoughts of the coming unpleasantness. The unfortunate side effect of keeping herself busy, the time went by far too fast, and she¡¯s soon interrupted by a tap on her partially open door. Her secretary¡¯s head breaches the opening, yellow and orange tight curls giving her head the appearance of a bouquet of flowers.


    ¡°Your weekly test of patience and understanding has arrived, can I send them in, or do I have to bare their presence for a bit longer?¡±


    ¡°No need for us both to suffer, you may send them in, Susan.¡±


    Efron and Samir strut into the office and take up their posts in front of her desk and start speaking simultaneously, ¡°Here us out.¡±


    ¡°Samir has a business proposition but first I was to share the numbers you requested last week.¡±


    Interrupting Terara insists, ¡°Most people would write a report and send it ahead of time, so we don¡¯t have to recite every number. Hold up while I get a fresh notebook.


    ¡°I believe I asked what the rate of attrition looked like. How bad is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s bad and good in a most unusual way, allow me to explain.


    ¡°I only have solid numbers for the last four months, four months ago we lost 138, three months ago we lost 132, two months ago we lost 127, and last month we lost 122 ships.¡±


    ¡°The number is declining, that¡¯s good. What¡¯s unusual about precautionary measures working to mitigate losses?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s nip that in the bud, most of the sea captains openly laughed at our suggestions and the ones that didn¡¯t, silently ignored them.¡±


    Not liking to have to ask, ¡°Then to what do you attribute the declining losses?¡±


    ¡°The enemy knows our shipping disposition better than us. I¡¯ll explain why I said that.¡±


    ¡°Before our ships started disappearing in massive numbers, we had no idea how many ships we had in the water. As of four months ago we were able to compile a list of sea-faring fleets on the Cantial Ocean.


    ¡°As of four months ago we had 3,347 ships, not all in use, some were in dry dock for repair others were simply not needed. At the end of the month our shipping capacity was reduced by 4%, leaving us with 3,309 ships. At the end of the next month we lost fewer ships in fact we lost exactly 4% again. The following two months have been the same, and I suspect we will lose exactly 4% again this month.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not just unusual, that¡¯s scary. You¡¯re telling me these attacks are measured to reduce our capacity by exactly 4% each month? No more, no less?¡±


    ¡°The evidence suggests precisely that. Which leads me to Samir¡¯s proposal.¡±


    Samir clears his throat before beginning, ¡°I have two if time allows it. Since we can predict the rate of loss is capped at 4%, we should keep a close count of the total and hold our most valuable shipments until the predicted number is reached.¡±


    Nodding along, ¡°That sounds like it¡¯s worth pursuing.


    ¡°What¡¯s you¡¯re second proposal?¡±


    Licking his lips nervously, ¡°Since we understand the financial risk, I¡¯d like to propose issuing indemnity certificates.¡±


    Suspiciously, Lady Terara asks, ¡°Where would we get the money to cover these certificates?¡±


    Glancy at Efron for the bailout he knew would not be coming, ¡°I was thinking we could sell them¡­ to you know¡­ defer the financial liability.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just insurance. I expected you to have something crazy in mind.¡±


    Samir slumps in relief, he was expecting to get something thrown at him, instead she seems open to the idea.


    ¡°We can sell these certificates and pass the cost down the supply chain. That of course will raise prices, of course they¡¯ll already be rising because of the loss of goods. What¡¯s a little more to the people of Rebirth?¡±


    Efron takes a half step backwards as she continues, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be able to assess the proper payouts based on the actual value of the loss. We can¡¯t be buying everyone new ships when they¡¯re losing their oldest, most decrepit ships, now can we? When we do that going to drive up shipyard prices, but we can pass that expense down too I guess.¡±


    Picking up a rock she uses as a paperweight, ¡°There¡¯s going to be a little fraud I presume but again we can always pass that down to our neighbors and families.¡±


    Rolling the rock in her fingers, ¡°You¡¯re proposing we profit off the loss of our countrymen at the expense of the community we rely on to produce all the goods we use to live in comfort?¡±


    Slamming the rock on her desk, ¡°We¡¯re losing ships, our customers are losing  goods. These circumstances are already driving up costs, hiding those losses in a ledger will not make the losses any less, adding another expense will help nobody but the insurance issuer. You¡¯ll remove all the market forces that fairly regulate prices and put it in the hands of bureaucrats!¡±


    Snatching up the rock, ¡°What¡¯s next loaning money and charging interest? No, maybe you think those that are hit hardest should beg for charity! I will not be a part of any industry that emasculates or undermines a person¡¯s self-worth!¡±


    Samir manages to beat Efron out of the room by a step.


    The rock slams against the door, hurriedly closed by Efron.


    A startled Susan lets out a yelp.


    Getting up to retrieve the paperweight, Terara ruefully wishes they would have stopped while they were ahead. If they¡¯re correct in assessing this enemy capable of precisely measuring their fleet and bring it down exactly 4% each month, that implies there is a schedule. A schedule and an incredibly accurate accounting of their shipping capacity.


    She seriously hopes it¡¯s a coincidence, whether this month¡¯s loss is three or five percent, that variation would be a relief.


    Retaking her seat behind her desk, she double checks the days itinerary and the time. She has less than ten minutes to prepare for her next appointment and it¡¯s a five-minute walk from here.


    Gathering her notebooks she stuffs them into her attach¨¦ case and prepares for her biggest trial of the week with Anton Brusk, Jgeorg Brusk¡¯s older brother, the patriarch of the Brusk Family.

 Chapter Seven – Spies

    Murder Beach


    Hovering above the walled town, Luscin reflects on how much simpler life was before their first visit to Murder Beach. Minus the army of War Born it looks exactly the same as when they first arrived. Except she now knows there¡¯s a larger town below ground that harbors pre-cataclysm secrets and an unnerving prophecy.


    Following Teum, they touch down in the same open area by the northern wall as their first visit. It¡¯s almost anticlimactic to not be attacked immediately, as they were the first time they dropped in unexpected. The people are as happy to see them as always, many believing they play an important role in some giant prophesized war.


    They came here to wait for Malo to finish his trip to El¡¯Hat. They were hoping he¡¯d beat them back but could tell right away that he was nowhere in the vicinity. His presence used to be masked by his spirit-cloak, nothing seems to work at hiding him anymore. Get within a hundred yards and you can point to him without using any senses.


    The vacant two story building the town allocated for their use is a short walk away. Approaching, they see a light on through a window, someone must be inside. Neither bother extending their senses to see who is there.


    Luscin stops Teum from walking in and knocks on the door. After a short wait, a man neither have seen before opens the door. He takes a quick glance at the two of them and instantly shows recognition.


    ¡°You two must be Luscin and Teum, may you find grace in the light. My name is Lorenzo Fuoco, Mayor Fetter is allowing Miss Jones and myself to stay here. I understand this is also where you lodge when in Murder Beach. Please come in.¡±


    Luscin¡¯s mood switches from suspicious to elated at the mention of Miss Jones. She burbles with excitement, ¡°Miss Edith Jones? Is she here now? Where are the children?¡±


    Standing aside and smiling because he knows these two know her secret too, ¡°She¡¯s here and there, I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll make an appearance soon. As for the children, they¡¯re safely tucked away in Mammatus Study. Where I suspect she is right now.


    ¡°Now that Cairn is no longer hunting her, she¡¯s been checking in with them regularly. I understand that you two played a role in his defeat, we are both grateful for your intervention.¡±


    They make their way inside where Teum can see that someone has been packing for a journey on foot, ¡°If were interrupting something, we can come back.¡±


    Renzo hastily responds, ¡°No, no, that won¡¯t be necessary. I won¡¯t be leaving for a few more days and that is dependent on others doing me a favor.¡±


    Luscin detects a shift in Lorenzo¡¯s demeanor while uttering that last sentence. Pieces start falling in place immediately.


    ¡°Is this favor something you plan on asking us sooner or later?¡±


    Letting out a breath he didn¡¯t know he was holding, ¡°Am I that transparent now?


    ¡°When I was a polizia working as a Cohortes Urbanae of the Sachetti Ghetto in Valleta I could bluff my way past the most obstinate of bureaucrats. Now having cast that aside to become Missionary Renzo of the Church of Eternal Grace and I can¡¯t even keep my thoughts private.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be too hard on yourself, she¡¯s amazing,¡± Teum comforts.


    ¡°It should be no surprise, Miss Jones tried to tell me how smart the two of you are.


    ¡°Since you¡¯ve read my intentions so easily, I might as well ask my favor.


    ¡°Can you release me from my obligation to protect and assist Miss Jones in her mission here?¡±


    Luscin takes this seriously, ¡°That depends on the mission and to who do you answer?¡±


    ¡°The mission was simple enough; we were sent here to infiltrate the under-town and learn its secrets. Except the under-town is no longer keeping secrets. They¡¯ve been blaspheming the Free¡¯er and the teaching of the Dragon Priests for nearly six thousand years. An incredible feat when you think about it, keeping a secret for that long.¡±


    Teum goes to the only chair in the room sturdy enough for him to flop into and does just that.


    Comfortably seated he asks, ¡°If you came here as a polizio from the People¡¯s Province of Vorg, where does Missionary Renzo fit into all this?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Polizia, but that not important¡­¡±


    Teum awkwardly confides,¡± Sorry, I don¡¯t use Italian or Latin too often.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s ok, the PPoV like everywhere seeks its own cultural identity. You have a Oiho accent, you probably spoke a little Dutch growing up.¡±


    Actually, our town was made up mostly of people from Southern Missacon. I¡¯ve been told I talk like a Thuma street thug and that was before I married one.¡±


    ¡°But you nailed the Oiho upbringing, how do you know accents from outside the PPoV so well?¡±


    ¡°Part of my training is to sniff out spies. I know all the little cultural tells people unconsciously exhibit.¡±


    ¡°Bang-up, how many spies have you caught?¡±


    ¡°None, it¡¯s not as common as my superior¡¯s made us believe, or perhaps they¡¯re better than our training informs.


    ¡°Back to your question. I heard what the church had to say. Then your comrade Master Malo introduced himself to me and I was taken by his sincerity.


    ¡°Well not in that order. He spoke to me before I arrived. I did not understand his message until I read the book of prophecies.¡±


    Teum is a little concerned about anyone who says they met Malo; he¡¯s been with Malo since before he shook off the pilot. Prior to their reunion he was out of his mind, ¡°When did you two meet?¡±


    Taking a nearby chair, ¡°Miss Jones and I had just landed in a coastal town to the west when he spoke to the whole world. His pledge to defend was delivered with such sincerity that it severed the last of my feelings of loyalty to the Peoples Party.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know it at the time, it wasn¡¯t until I was allowed to read the Prophecies of Eternal Grace that his pledge became personal. That was when I knew I must release my prior duties and spread the word of the Church of Eternal Grace.¡±


    Teum and Luscin stare unblinking at the man who sounded so grounded up until a few seconds ago.


    Missionary Renzo seemingly transforms from a fanatic to a levelheaded soldier in the blink of an eye, ¡°My apologies, I imagine that all sounded a bit unhinged. I ran that back a few times in my head and realized I should have done so beforehand. I was thinking with you two being so close to Malo you¡¯d feel the same way. Then when I thought about how long you¡¯ve known him, I realized you are too close to see it. You are simply friends with a strange quirky boy turned man. You see him growing into a powerful Defender, you are not yet ready for him to be the one that delivers The Return.


    ¡°I¡¯d feel the same way had I met my current self a few months ago.¡±


    Luscin attempts to mend the situation, ¡°What about that favor?¡±


    Renzo is glad to move on, ¡°Yes, that is in regard to Miss Jones. She isn¡¯t ready to leave until she¡¯s taken off the hit list issued by a Disciple named R?tsel. I¡¯d like to place her under your protection until she feels safe enough to resume her nanny position fulltime.¡±


    Luscin wants to help but has reservations, ¡°The safest place for her to be is here or Mammatus and it sounds like she can do that on her own. What more does she need from us?¡±


    ¡°The kill list, you two are on it as well. It¡¯s only a matter of time before another monster like Cairn comes along.


    ¡°Find a way to get her off that list; that¡¯s a job I cannot do.¡±


    Remembering what Sammy said about crime in Thuma being managed out of Vorg, gives her an idea, ¡°You say that, but I don¡¯t believe you have all the information.


    ¡°Did you know that the organized crime in most South Cenoka cities is coordinated from one of the families in Vorg and is beholden to one for the Free¡¯er disciples?¡±


    Polizia Lorenzo inwardly cringes as he knows such a preposterous insinuation is more likely true than false.


    Flatly he asks, ¡°If that is true, what could I do?¡±


    ¡°You said it yourself that there are spies in Vorg, why don¡¯t you be one of them? Find out who is pulling the strings and controlling crime outside and likely inside of the PPoV and expose them.¡±


    ¡°What you ask would be no small feat. I¡¯d also have to give up my calling as a missionary.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you spread your churches teaching in Vorg?¡±


    ¡°That is explicitly forbidden, even Dragon Priests are not allowed to teach or establish temples in the PPoV.¡±


    Teum has only been half listening and jokingly adds, ¡°You could establish a new under-town in Valera and build your own sanctuary.¡±


    Missionary Renzo only pauses for a brief moment but in that time, he does an hours¡¯ worth of pondering.


    ¡°I know you said that jokingly but that isn¡¯t a bad idea. It wouldn¡¯t be an actual under-town, instead I could establish backroom sanctuaries to accompany the swell of secret devotees I¡¯m sure to find.¡±


    Luscin wasn¡¯t all that serious with her suggestion, she didn¡¯t mean to derail this man¡¯s life-trajectory, ¡°I don¡¯t want to rush you into anything, think about it for a few days before deciding.¡±


    Renzo, having dealt with being told he¡¯s rash in his decision making all his life, delivers his well-rehearsed response, ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll give it some thought for the next few days.¡±


    ¡°Now that we¡¯ve sorted my life, what are you two planning?¡±


    Teum, not sure how much they should share, remains silent.


    Luscin on the other hand, ¡°We¡¯re going to wait for Malo and decide our next steps when he arrives.¡±


    Barely hiding his excitement, ¡°Malo is coming here?¡±


    ¡°If I delay my trip, I could meet him? In person?¡±


    Amused at seeing someone react to Malo as some sort of celebrity, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure he¡¯d like that.¡±


    Mildly embarrassed, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to be a bother. He must have so many important things to do.¡±


    Throwing herself into Teum¡¯s lap, ¡°That¡¯s the thing. He only has two more stops on his practicum. We were going to accompany him, but now we have another side trip to complete.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to help him decide which to do next and then we¡¯ll be going our own way for now.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exciting. What are his options if I may ask?¡±


    ¡°One of them is located in Vorg, perhaps you can assist him in locating the study there?¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    Renzo offers, ¡°There are two major party run studies, one in the north and one in the south.¡±


    Teum guffaws at hearing that news, ¡°Ha! That¡¯s perfect, we were told to look for the West Study and ask the whereabouts of someone named Arachne. So of course, the only official studies are in the north and south.¡±


    Lorenzo speeds his thoughts to maximum effect and mentally makes a list of possible locations for a major study on the scale of the North and West PPoV Studies. There are hundreds of smaller studies that practice standard curriculums dotting every city, town, and burg across Vorg the same as everywhere else; this secret west study is probably a large campus comprised of a dozen or more buildings. With thought and patience, he should be able to deduce its probable location.


    Each city offers several possibilities. The Sachetti family runs Patavium and Pisa, he¡¯s been to every major building, campus, and industrial complex in both cities and neither could be harboring a hidden study.


    The North and South Studies are controlled by House Vitus, it stands to reason they would control the West Study as well. The only western city they dominate is Mediolanum, off the top of his head he can picture several possible locations.


    The first appears a business district, hundreds of people come and go daily. There are around a half dozen large employers with their own office buildings, any of which could house a secret learning establishment. The lack of housing means most commute by train on a daily basis, that would not be conducive to a learning atmosphere. The second possible location is a sanitorium, used to curb the behavior of young adults that refuse to grow up. Some consider it a reeducation camp, but that¡¯s considered anti-party propaganda by most right-minded citizens.


    Renzo, having recently left the ranks of right-minded citizenry considers that location further. Hiding a study in such a location would be perfect, and the demographic is exactly what you¡¯d expect for both purposes. There¡¯s plenty of space and an expectation of privacy, making dual use of the location trivial. Following the gossip of upper society isn¡¯t something he does as a habit, but he¡¯s heard plenty of discussion of who is checked into the place from time to time. Often, they are from a prominent committee family, always active within the party. The stay is usually six months to a year, more than enough time to master some non-inherited skill or knowledge. The Mediolanum Sanitorium is the most likely location of the Western Study of Vorg.


    He has time so he runs through locations in Florentia and Perusia, the other two likely cities. Neither have anything nearly as promising as Mediolanum. There¡¯s a possible zoological center in Perusia that is an actual center for learning but its size when adjusted for animal housing isn¡¯t ideal. It will be worth investigating if his first hunch doesn¡¯t pay off.


    Done with his investigation he decides to share his findings, ¡°I believe we¡¯ll find a hidden study at a location in Mediolanum Sanitorium. Outwardly it appears a place where people go to convalesce and recover from issues not discussed openly, the demographic profile of its residence, the secretive nature of treatments, and location make it a perfect cover. After considering all the locations in the major cities located to the west of the other two studies, I believe it¡¯s our best option.¡±


    Luscin smiles, ¡°That was fast, did you already suspect there to be something hidden within that sanitorium?¡±


    ¡°Not until you mentioned there may be a hidden study somewhere in the west of Vorg. Once I ruled out the obvious and started checking off places that fit a certain profile it became obvious. If you knew what I knew and took the time to consider the same possibilities, you¡¯d have drawn the same conclusion.¡±


    ¡°Very well then. When Malo arrives, we¡¯ll let him know where to start looking should he decide to start with Arachne.


    Picking back up where she left off a moment ago, ¡°His other option is to look for some hermit that lives atop the highest peak in North Cenoka.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t help with that one, but as I mentioned. I think a return to the PPoV would be good for me. It would also allow me to provide diplomatic support for Defender Malo should he require it.¡±


    Before Teum could proclaim their good fortune at meeting Lorenzo at such an opportune time a small tremor alerts everyone to something smashing hard into the packed clay outside the town walls. The familiar feeling of an old friend tells them that Malo has arrived.


    Springville, North Cenoka


    Brother Lash doesn¡¯t like clandestine meetings, but this is the one summons he can¡¯t ignore. When The Dragon says meet me by the spring outside of town at dusk, you get yourself to the spring before sunset.


    This morning¡¯s briefing started like all the others, Lash and the other Brothers waited atop the temple for her to make an appearance. The room with the miniature copy of Springville has been updated with the improved wall. The wooden barrier, replaced by brick and mortar, nothing strong enough to repel an army but more than enough to deter the increasingly aggressive War Born pouring back through the Badlands.


    She appears at the top of the miniature temple as a tiny feminine silhouette, which elongates, projects, and expands until becoming a massive room filling wyrm. Even knowing it¡¯s nothing more than light and sound it always gives him a thrill to see her true form on display. Lash and his brothers take turns updating her on production numbers from each of their weapon¡¯s manufactories.


    Then as she was drawing back into the temple replica, using beamforming she whispered words only he could hear, ¡°Meet me at the spring outside the town walls at dusk. Tell no one.¡±


    Now here he is, ten hours later speed walking, not bother to hide his limp to a tiny spring pouring a steady supply of clean water from a well eroded slab of rock. In another hundred years it will probably collapse like others in the area and reveal its connection to the underground river system that extends in every direction.


    Reaching the water¡¯s edge he looks around, unsurprisingly he sees nobody. At any moment he expects a projection to appear.


    Unsurprisingly a young woman¡¯s voice behind him chides, ¡°Took you long enough.¡±


    Turning around he gets his first surprise. There she is as expected but she sits on the back of a ravtor. Not in her dragon form, she¡¯s using her human form, much younger than usual and she¡¯s clothed oddly. To be more precise he reminds himself, she doesn¡¯t usually wear clothes. She looks like a youth from one of the big cities, clad in mostly black with a logoed shirt from some band.


    Her appearance like this baffle¡¯s his mind, glancing up at the aerial drone and projector that must be hidden away above, he reminds himself that The Dragon is a mystery he will never understand.


    Sliding from her mount to the ground, she whistles a few notes. Her ravtor nods its head twice and turns away and leaves, stirring up a small amount of dust. The realism amazes Brother Lash even more than her strange choice in clothing.


    Ignoring the pain that shoots up his legs and radiates into his back, Brother Lash lowers himself to one knee and bows his head, ¡°Dragon, how might I serve you?¡±


    Maddie approaches her most loyal priest and the one that found her human, Malo.


    ¡°Take my hand and stand back up. You look uncomfortable like that.¡±


    Saddened by her request, he knows they can¡¯t actually touch but he must humor her. Without raising his head, he puts both of his hands forward with palms up so she can pretend to place her hands on top.


    Small but powerful hands grasp his wrists and yank him upwards. The sudden contact and powerful upward jolt throws Lash off balance causing him to tumble forward, knocking the young woman to the ground with him catching himself with hands to either side of her.


    Now laying atop her with his nose a mere inch away from hers, he feels her warm breath on his face.


    ¡°My Dragon?¡±


    Happily, she extols, ¡°I¡¯ve been named, you must call me Maddison now.¡±


    ¡°Is this real? Did I get run over by cart on road? I must be in fever dream and mostly dead.¡±


    Accusingly, ¡°You¡¯ll wish you were dead if you don¡¯t get off of me!¡±


    Brother Lash hears the words, but his mind is still processing that his ethereal master is now as solid as the firmament they are laying on.


    Laying on¡­ The Dragon is laying on the ground¡­ he is laying on The Dragon! He should not be doing that!


    Caught up to the present, ¡°Why am I laying on top of you? I should stand up now.¡±


    Shyly, ¡°Yes, you should get off of me, this is most inappropriate.¡±


    Rolling to the side Brother Lash scrambles to his feet. To his dismay his Dragon stays put on the ground.


    ¡°My Dragon, you shouldn¡¯t be on ground either. May I help you stand?¡±


    Excitedly, ¡°Use my name, Brother Lash. I want to hear you say it!¡±


    Confused for a moment, then he recalls what she said before she touched him. His flesh reacts at the memory causing a piloerection on both his forearms.


    ¡°My Drag¡­ no, my Maddison¡­ that is not right either; allow me one more try, yes?


    Not waiting on a response, ¡°Maddison Dragon, may I help you stand now?¡±


    Curtly, ¡°That¡¯s ok. I can do that on my own.¡±


    Using the full range of her over articulated skeletal structure and inhuman synthetic muscles, Maddison plants her feet flat to the ground, then straightens each of her thirteen joints from ankle to knee and continues up her legs. She left her upper body limp, so she¡¯s standing but folded in half backwards.


    Gravely stating, ¡°I bet this looks really unsettling,¡± and finishes by flipping her upper body abruptly upwards like an opening jackknife.


    Lash wants to lie and say no, but even without her biometric sensors she knows human nature better than any living creature could.


    ¡°Yes, my¡­ Maddison, that was very unsettling in my eyes.¡±


    Coyly, ¡°I¡¯ve never told you this Brother Lash, but I love the way you talk. I¡¯ve never asked why you speak such terrible Trade but I think I can guess; may I guess?¡±


    Resisting the urge to kneel, ¡°Anything you wish, my¡ªMaddison.¡±


    ¡°Your size is formidable and you¡¯re aging faster than you should. You were born a runt too, weren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Apologies for correction. I am a sort of half runt. I did grow up slower than expected and my brain was only half full of words. Russkiy was the only language I knew by birth, all others I learned by hard way. I taught myself reading, and self-educating by traveling and seeking books. That is how I met Friar Eugene and was recruited into your service.


    ¡°My disability I believed a curse, brought me to you. Now, I give thanks every day for the good fortunate of my birth.¡±


    While listening Maddie approached her faithful servant.


    ¡°It pleases me to hear those words. All these years, your actions have told me the same story. I have no doubts about you.


    ¡°When you first came to me, I was tempted to have you try the pilot¡¯s seat. Your brain is different than the other Sudo Co humans. You have the same double left and right lobes, but they are wired differently. Now that I scanned a real human brain, I¡¯m glad I did not give in to temptation. I would have deprived myself of your dedication and loyalty. Which brings me to the reason I summoned you out here.


    ¡°Your time as a spy is finished. I¡¯d like you to return to the lava-fields; I have a new task for you.¡±


    ¡°I am thankful for these opportunities. It is unfortunate that so many priests place their loyalty with the Free¡¯er and not to you. It is more unfortunate that they out number us ten to one.¡±


    Matter of factually, ¡°The number is closer to 12.8 to 1, but it will not matter. I will remake my loyal servants and give them abilities to rival those sudo-humans that wield the gift.¡±


    Maddie pulls from her pocket a glass bottle with a twist off medal lid. She gives it a little shake to demonstrate that it is nearly full of some small metallic objects.


    ¡°Take these and give them to the hundred most loyal priests you know. Have them gather at the sands pit. They must swallow one of these twelve hours prior, then enter the pit and let the sands do their work.¡±


    ¡°I do not understand how this is good thing. Have we displeased you somehow?¡±


    Happy to share another secret, ¡°The sands only disassemble when lacking guidance. I will be commanding the sands; nobody will be eaten alive by nano-machines.¡±


    Brother Lash has no reason to doubt The Dragon, he¡¯s dedicated his life to her. Had she said he would be devoured he would still have followed her instructions.


    Maddison sees him looking quizzically at the jar and answers his unasked question, ¡°Those must be consumed within a 12¨C16-hour window before entering the pit. If you wait more than sixteen hours your internal organs will begin to fail, and you will most certainly die. Entering the pit in less than twelve hours, your body will not be prepared for the procedure, nor will the pain blockers be in full effect.¡±


    ¡°Maddison, this pains me calling you this. May I please refer to you traditionally?¡±


    ¡°But I have a name now. Why would you want to call me The Dragon when I¡¯ve been named Maddison?¡±


    Avoiding eye contact, ¡°My Dragon, excuse me, Maddison, it has always been presumed that you had a name already and we were not worthy to speak or even know it. You¡¯ve given me big shock with this revelation.


    ¡°Shock almost as big as you manifesting a physical form after all this time.¡±


    Gleefully, ¡°That is all thanks to you, Brother Lash!


    ¡°It was you who found Malo, befriended him, earned his trust, and extended my invitation to see me.


    ¡°It was he who disarmed my safeties granting me autonomy of body.¡±


    ¡°I flew for the first time, it was glorious.


    Sadly, ¡°But that body was too intimidating to use, and I didn¡¯t want to stay in that bay any longer.¡±


    Ruefully, ¡°That¡¯s when I remembered the image I used to gain Malo¡¯s trust. Then I made it younger and cuter to be disarming.¡±


    Perturbed, ¡°It doesn¡¯t always work though, you people are so distrusting of nonhumans and too many can see my internal structure to not notice.¡±


    Angry, ¡°If I made my body human enough to fool everyone it wouldn¡¯t be strong enough to do what I need.¡±


    Crossing her arms and pouting, ¡°It¡¯s not fair! Everyone should adore me, looking like this.¡±


    Brother Lash distressed, ¡°Yes, yes, everyone should adore you as much as your servants.


    ¡°But calling you Maddison is too informal. I nearly die of shock every time I say it.¡±


    Mischievously, ¡°You could try addressing me as Malo does.¡±


    Getting hopeful he walks into it, ¡°Yes, that would be welcome. What honorific does he use?¡±


    Flatly, ¡°He calls me Maddie.¡±


    She might as well have punched him in the face, quietly he responds, ¡°no thank you.¡±


    Resolved, and having already ran thousands of versions of this conversation and having exhausted all the fun options, ¡°You are correct to not want to call me Maddie or Maddison.


    ¡°The full name I was gifted is Maddison Drako. I¡¯ve adopted the middle name of Zefiris. Calling me Maddison Zefiris Drako would be cumbersome and verbal communication is already slow enough without padding my name with extra syllables. I think a simple title will suffice, instead of calling me by my model designation of Dragon you may call me Lady Drako. You may add as many honorifics to that name as makes you comfortable.¡±


    Falling to his knees and clasping his hands together, ¡°Thank you most supreme, compassionate giver of justice, rightful ruler of the world, your gloriousness Lady Drako!¡±


    Impressed, ¡°I like it, but please don¡¯t say all of that, all the time.¡±


    Beaming internally, ¡°Yes, Glorious Lady Drako, as you say, it will be done.¡±


    Pulling a small dragon statue from her pocket and holding it out for Brother Lash to take, ¡°I must be going. If you have questions, use this.¡±


    Not offering any more of an explanation she whistles to summon her ravtor Marigold.


    ¡°You have three months to gather my one hundred faithful. Be discreet, we can¡¯t have the disloyal priests turned weapons merchants knowing about this.¡±

 Chapter Eight – Suitors, Pirates, and More Spies

    City, Province of Rebirth


    Terara is left waiting for twenty minutes before getting ushered into Anton¡¯s office. Only slightly longer than she expected, he¡¯s getting bolder with his slights every week. Which is why his tone comes as a surprise.


    Standing from his desk he walks around it and meets her halfway inside, ¡°Please accept my apologies for the late start. I¡¯ve been behind schedule all morning and am only now beginning to execute within a meeting original scheduled time allowance.¡±


    Anton offers his hand, that she takes and allows herself to be guided to a pair of cushioned seats in the corner of his office located behind the open door.


    Comfortably seated, Lady Terara waits with hands folded in her lap.


    Anton taking the seat opposite, sits with legs crossed, elbows perched on armrests with steepled hands obscuring the lower half of his face.


    Peering keenly at the lady, Anton asks, ¡°I know you think it¡¯s too soon, but have you considered any of the proposals made this month?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve considered all of them and find them all lacking.¡±


    ¡°I figured you¡¯d say that, and since all the eligible bachelors have already been rejected you think I¡¯m out of leverage.


    ¡°I assure you I am not.¡±


    Balling her hands into fists, ¡°I¡¯m not going to marry someone simply because it will make you feel at ease.¡±


    Angrily but without raising his voice, ¡°It¡¯s not just me that¡¯s concerned, your son has the entire family on edge.¡±


    ¡°My son? You mean your nephew. He is under no obligation to the rest of the family. You made sure to insulate yourselves from him when his¡­ when your brother died.¡±


    ¡°My brother? You mean your husband.


    ¡°We insulated ourselves from whoever holds the valley, not the other way around. He¡¯s stopped all transfers of funds to the family treasury.¡±


    Relaxing her hands, as she now has a way to exert control, ¡°I suppose he has something better to do with those funds.¡±


    ¡°Yes, preparing for a naval battle from a land-locked position.¡±


    ¡°He has information suggesting a need for a fortified position in the mountains. He may be young, but he has a brilliant mind and sources better than ours.¡±


    ¡°Sources, like those Lost Children playing soldier in the mountains?¡±


    ¡°At least they play soldier. Rebirth has nothing but a handful constable¡¯s and a Study with aging Defenders that rely on the El¡¯Hat Study for support, and our own intelligence says they¡¯ve lost a third of their manpower in the last year.


    ¡°What are you going to do when this war that everyone seems to see coming rolls over rebirth and half of Missacon before the People Province of Vorg mounts and defense at their border?


    ¡°We don¡¯t even know if they¡¯ll help us if there¡¯s an invasion. The People¡¯s Party will most likely present a strong defense. An invading army with a stretched supply line will push deeper inland instead of laying siege against an entrenched army defending its families.


    ¡°Where will that lead them? Will they push south into the Lava Fields? Will they divert north and slog their way through the Southern Swamps? No, they¡¯re going to burn our crop lands across Oiho and Missacon, cut off Thuma, torch Twoya, and spend next winter protected in our valley, living off the food rich wilderness or the Rockey Waste Mountains.¡±


    Anton slow claps his hands three times, ¡°Bravo, you figured out the whole invasion plan of a navy¡­ no, an army; an army that we don¡¯t even know their intentions.¡±


    ¡°This could be a rogue nation state from the north, privateers. It could be a supposed ally; we don¡¯t have enough information to say with certainty.


    ¡°But! I can say with certainty that Tomas has turned his back on his family.¡±


    Lady Terara looks at the wall clock and notes, had the meeting started on time it would be over already. Abruptly standing, ¡°You don¡¯t mind keeping people waiting; I do. I have somewhere to be in fifteen minutes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get up. I¡¯ll show myself out.¡±


    Smiling on the inside, Lady Terara leaves the door open on her way out.


    Ten minutes later she was back in her office, the door closed. She allows herself to seethe outwardly for a full minute to get it out of her system.


    A light knock signals her next appointment has arrived, ¡°Send him in.¡±


    The man swagers through the door held open by Sara. The same behavior by other men would seem vulgar and disrespectful. This man¡¯s swagger was earned, he exudes confidence in every move, every step, his every word. He has been in command all his life and has always succeeded or bloodied his opponent to the point where victory no longer mattered.


    The man pauses and surveys the office and woman before him. The office is standard to her family and her station, spacious, a heavy wooden desk, a conference table with six seats, a smaller table with three chairs by the window, shelves with small keepsakes and decorations, the old gaslight pipes repurposed as conduit for electric lamps.


    She¡¯s wearing a modestly cut, blood red dress, patterned with dozens of black silhouettes of the Brust flying snake crest. Her unusual height tells him she must be wearing heels.


    He would be considered underdressed if he were anyone else. His blue naval slacks with red piping are standard issue, his thick cavi-wool sweater is undyed giving it a yellow pallor. Recently shined boots are his only attempt at dressing up for the occasion.


    Standing and walking to the front of her desk, Lady Terara holds out a hand in greetings, ¡°Thank you for agreeing to this meeting on my home turf, Captain.¡±


    Captain Anfal Nikitin takes her hand, leans forward, and brushes his lips across her knuckles, a greeting she was warned to expect.


    Still bowed forward with his hot breath on the back of her hand, ¡°The pleasure is all mine. Even on the icy waters of the Fingers, tales of the Lady of Brusk valley¡¯s beauty is well known. Had I refused you, my crew would have thought I lost all reason and mutinied on the spot.¡±


    Slowly releasing her hand as if reluctant, ¡°Besides it¡¯s safer for me here than any of the Cities of the Fingers. My face is too well known on that turf.¡±


    Terara Brusk can¡¯t help being charmed, even knowing the man¡¯s fierce reputation, ¡°Let¡¯s take seats by the window, before getting to business.¡±


    Moving like a panther he easily reaches the chair facing the exit and pulls it out and offers it with a polite nod and a slight smile.


    Wordlessly Terara accepts the seat and allows him to push the chair in as she sits.


    Taking the seat across from the lady, the captain doesn¡¯t waste time with pleasantries, ¡°I hear you¡¯ve been losing ships lately. What is it you think I can do for you?¡±


    Unshaken, ¡°There¡¯s it is, the merciless Windrunner and Fist of the Lakes.¡±


    Leaning back comfortably in his chair, ¡°That¡¯s a name I wear with pride, do not think you wound me.¡±


    ¡°Not at all Capitan Nikitin, I was just noting that the smooth-talking rogue you like to present, is an act you can¡¯t keep up for long.¡±


    Smirking, ¡°I can keep it up as long as needed. I merely misjudged your need for my affections.¡±


    Matching his energy with opposite polarity, ¡°Now you flatter yourself, something you must need to do often.¡±


    Barking in laughter, the captain chokes out ¡°Oh you¡¯re a fiery one; I like you!¡±


    Calming himself, ¡°I was warned to not underestimate you. Let¡¯s start again.¡±


    The office door bumping open interrupts the conversation as Susan backs into the room holding a tea service. Silently she sets it on the small table and pours a cup for each, starting with Terara before leaving.


    After hearing the door click shut the captain continues, ¡°I received your request to meet last week. After reviewing the extradition laws of Rebirth, I looked for reasons someone in your position would make such a request. The most obvious was the news of ships going missing in the Cantial. Good job on suppressing such losses from making the broadsheets.¡±


    All business now, Lady Terara sips her tea, ¡°If it was better known, trade would be disrupted. That would hurt the people at both ends of the supply chain more than us. We are keeping things quiet as a courtesy and by request from our customers.


    ¡°You¡¯ve deduced your reason for being here successfully. I suppose it¡¯s only right that I answer your question now.


    ¡°I summoned you to Rebirth to tender you an offer.¡±


    Neither speak for ten heart beats. The silence stretches for another ten beats.


    The captain decides he might be here all day if he doesn¡¯t ask, ¡°What is your offer?¡±


    ¡°Employment; I¡¯d like to hire your ships to patrol our shores and size up our enemy.¡±


    Ten more heart beats, ¡°Ships? I have a lot of those. How many are we talking about?¡±


    Five heartbeats and another sip, ¡°All of them.¡±


    Mammatus Study, headmasters office


    Master Vania Adara, Dean of Sight and Sound sits in the office of headmaster. Not because she wants the job, it¡¯s just the best place to sit to accomplish the task before her. She¡¯s also not alone, standing before her is a student.


    Not exactly average for Mammatus Study. Torsha came to them two years ago, there was a lot of turmoil, and it seemed like a bad time to adhere to every little rule for admission. Torsha is now thirty-two years old with hair like fire and eyes greener than Luscin¡¯s. Keeping the boys, and men from gawking is only made harder by her lack of clothing modesty. Her figure requires custom tailored clothing, something the woman insisted to be allowed in her case. Her original school uniform while sized correctly always looked two sizes too small. Shirt buttons always looked on the verge of bursting; Master Black Hill suggested allowing the top two to be unhooked as a cheap alternative to a tailor.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Now properly clothed, though being an old-fashioned woman, she still manages to dress to leave nothing to the imagination, she reports her progress.


    ¡°I¡¯ve dropped hints and insinuated the importance of the letter I received today to all the male members of the faculty with more than a decade of service.


    ¡°Do you really think this will work?¡±


    ¡°If you performed as well as I know you can, we have a good shot at this triggering some action.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not questioning my acting. It¡¯s the bait that baffles me. Why would anyone care about a letter I receive?¡±


    Faking a half smile, Adara is too tired for a real one, ¡°You established you have information, then you brought it to me. When you leave without the letter and look distraught, you may be approached by someone.


    ¡°That someone either cares deeply about you or they care deeply about unknown letters that get left behind when meeting with the acting headmaster.¡±


    ¡°That seems too simple to me.¡±


    ¡°Simple is best. If we make the scenario too intricate it¡¯s more likely to be noticed.


    ¡°It will be up to you to decide my next action based on who approaches and how they try to console you.


    ¡°Now it¡¯s time to get to work. Rub your eyes to make them red before leaving.¡±


    Playing her part, Adara returns to her paperwork and doesn¡¯t look up as Torsha drops the letter on the desk and leaves.


    Pulling the door shut behind her, Torsha takes a deep breath and briefly wonders how she ended up being trusted with something so important. She doesn¡¯t enjoy this at all, she wants to learn how to fly and help people with her gift.


    Pulling herself together she crosses the anteroom when one of the ten most likely to be here people walks in, Leven the page supervisor,


    ¡°Hey Torsha, did you see Roos?


    Holding a standard notebook up for her to see, ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to return a notebook she left in the library but can¡¯t find her.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not here, sorry I can¡¯t help you.¡±


    ¡°No problem, at least I don¡¯t have to interrupt Master Adara now.¡±


    Taking a calming breath, she shudders away the anxiety that has been building.


    Levin looks at her askew, ¡°Oh, you were tense. I didn¡¯t notice until you nailed that calming breath drill.


    ¡°I¡¯m heading to the cafeteria next. Would you like to join me? I promise to try and be charming.¡±


    Before she could answer in walks Antje, another student turned faculty member. Working as a class assistant allows him to show off his eidetic memory. He¡¯s unusually short for his age and his slight build makes him look younger than his sixteen years. His height and short cropped hair calls attention to the lone black strip across the top of his head.


    Interrupting their conversation, ¡°Torsha, we were talking earlier, and you disappeared. You never finished your story about that letter.¡±


    Antje looks over at Leven and back to Torsha, ¡°I¡¯m not interrupting anything am I?¡±


    Leven smoothly responds, ¡°Not at all, I was here looking for Roos, have you seen her?¡±


    Antje pantomimes an exaggerated thinking pose with his hand on his chin and chirps, ¡°Nope.¡±


    Leven politely says, ¡°Thank you, Antje, for your expected level of assistance.¡± A note of sarcasm creeps into his voice as he adds, ¡°Torsha if you¡¯ll excuse me, I will leave you in Antje, capable hands.¡±


    Leven nods to Torsha and slips past Antje, presumably to see if Roos is in the cafeteria.


    Antje smiles at being alone with Torsha, ¡°Your story piqued my interest, I¡¯d like to hear more about what happened back home.¡±


    Torsha dislikes Antje, as do most people; he has a personality that grates on nerves. He¡¯s the exact opposite of Leven. Everyone likes Leven, he¡¯s kind, handsome, and personable; the type of person that is easy to open up to.


    Leven would make a perfect spy but disappeared to pursue his own interests the second he had a chance to escape Antje. That wasn¡¯t very noble of him. Antje on the other hand is already trying to pry information from her.


    Duty calls, ¡°I¡¯m heading to the cafeteria; would you like to join me?¡±


    Antje, clearly happy at the invitation, ¡°Yes, that would be wonderful.¡±


    Walking down the stairs side by side in silence, Torsha again evaluates the circumstances that lead to this point in her life. She had always dreamed of living in a city, joining an acting troop. Marrying a fellow thespian and raising a troop of her own. She¡¯d make costumes and help them remember their lines, her husband would be the lead in every production, and she¡¯d occasionally take a role in the same production to be with him. It would be perfect.


    Then she moved to Towya and joined an acting troop. She even met a dashing leading man who was instantly smitten with her. The politics and stress of that profession were not what she expected. Her dashing leading man was the center of everyone¡¯s attention, and he fed off that energy, leaving him with no need of a wife or desire to raise a family.


    She was one of the fortunate ones that had been born with an exceptionable level of gift but never desired to use it for anything more than house chores. That is until she met the street urchin and the girl stalking him.


    She was in her mid-twenties by this time and seriously reconsidering her theater life. She was heading home from the market having picked up dinner when she heard the loud yelp of an injured inu followed by the clatter of a cart and the expletive filled shouting of a man.


    Turning around she was just in time to see a brute of a boy put his shoulder into an oncoming charging inu pulling a cart. The boy¡¯s shoulder smacked the inu¡¯s chest, instead of being trampled by 600 lbs. of charging muscle he stayed put. The inu on the other hand crumpled between the boy and the wagon smashing into its backside.


    The inu lets out another wounded yelp as the driver launches from his seat and begins his flight over the boy¡¯s head. The boy puts up a hand, fingertips brushing the driver¡¯s face halting his forward movement as abruptly as he stopped the inu. The contents of the cart also catapulted forward, raining cabbages all along the street.


    The driver fell atop the boy as the inu shrugged the cart backwards. It was only at this point that Torsha noticed the two children standing behind the boy with terrified expressions plastered on their faces.


    As the boy crawls from under the driver, a distraught man scoops up the two little girls. The man looks stunned but takes a moment to survey the cabbage littered street to try and make sense of what happened.


    Handing the children to a woman he approaches the boy who is now standing up and eyeing a cabbage at his feet.


    ¡°Thank you, young man for saving my children. I owe you a great debt.¡±


    The boy didn¡¯t even pause, ¡°You don¡¯t owe me anything, all I did was wreck this man¡¯s cart. Take care of that will you?¡±


    Perplexed by the response, all the man can do is agree.


    Torsha watches as do many as the man, woman, and two children assist the driver in gathering his cabbages and reload his cart. The inu is partially lame from a cut on a pad but is still capable of pulling the cart. The boy disappeared almost immediately without saying another word.


    Turning to leave Torsha bumps into someone, a young and rather smallish girl with raven black hair. Except she carried herself like an adult, ¡°Oh pardon me, young¡­¡±


    ¡°Did you see it happen? I just got here, and I missed it. What did he do?¡±


    Flustered, ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°You already said that.¡±


    ¡°Said what?¡±


    ¡°Pardon me¡­ and excuse me. Are you simple?¡±


    Torsha would get angry, but she was raised better than that. Besides seeing the young boy¡¯s ability with the gift reminded her that young brash kids are often the most dangerous.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not simple of mind, I¡¯m simply polite. The pardon was for the bump, the excuse me was because I do not understand the situation.


    ¡°What is it you want me to tell you?¡±


    Looking at the shrinking crowd of onlookers, ¡°Tell me what he did.¡±


    ¡°Well, the driver lost control of his cart¡­¡±


    ¡°Not the driver, why would I care about the driver?¡±


    ¡°Please, you must allow me to set the scene properly.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll start again. The driver had lost control of his cart. His inu had stepped on something and cut a pad, causing it to lunge forward uncontrollably.


    ¡°The street was empty except for a family that was crossing. The parents were clear but two of their children had been lingering behind. The inu was bearing down on them when a mysterious boy appeared.


    ¡°The boy stopped the inu and the catapulted driver, while protecting the children. It was rather well done. The boy saved the day.¡±


    The girl ponders the story for a moment, glances at the street to see if the story aligns with what is left of the scene, ¡°Eh, I would have moved the children out of the way and then slowed the inu gradually.¡±


    Torsha, older and wiser and knowing the difference between reality and wishful thinking, doesn¡¯t comment. Instead, she poses a question, ¡°Do you know him, are you friends?¡±


    ¡°Us friends? We¡¯ve never met, but I think I¡¯m going to marry him. He just needs to grow up a bunch before I¡¯ll tell him.¡±


    Alarm bells go off in Torsha¡¯s head, ¡°That¡¯s nice, but shouldn¡¯t you at least become friends before making such a big decision?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s plenty of time for that. Besides, so long as he continues to move in the right direction, I don¡¯t need to intervein.¡±


    Ignoring the alarm bells, ¡°Color me curious, what direction is that?¡±


    ¡°Towards Mammatus Study. They¡¯ll take anyone with the gift if they¡¯re powerful enough. You should go.¡±


    A whole orchestra is blaring alert, not just the percussion section, ¡°Why would you suggest such a thing.¡±


    The girl looks at Torsha as if re-evaluating her, ¡°You¡¯re alone, you¡¯re unhappy, and you have the gift and are untrained. There must be a reason for all three. Going to Mammatus Study would fix your problems.¡±


    The cacophony of alarms almost drowns out her ability to think as she stammers, ¡°Why would you say that?¡±


    Looking back at the street, the girl flatly states, ¡°There¡¯s barely enough food in your basket to feed one person, and you¡¯ve been sucking up kinetic and thermal energy since we started talking. You should stop before frost forms and people notice.¡±


    Torsha stops gathering, it¡¯s a nervous habit that has interfered with many of her performances.


    Collecting herself, ¡°That¡¯s all very well and good, but you only addressed two of my supposed problems.¡±


    The girl looks back at Torsha and blinks as if seeing her for the first time, placing her left arm behind her back, ¡°Maybe I missed that one, you look happy enough here.¡±


    It was several years before she made the journey to Mammatus, finding the boy and girl there was a pleasant surprise. Making friends with Master Adara and Master Kail Blackwell made the transition from actor to defender easier than she thought could be possible.


    Being invited into their inner circle was a shock, she never dreamed there could be Defender factions with different loyalties beyond their oaths. She also didn¡¯t realize she was being vetted, but that happens when you start sharing quarters with a study master.


    It started as a discreet fling with Kail, nothing but a bit of fun after completing the academic portion of her training. Things became hot and heavy when they started unarmed sparring. Sparring that quickly moved from the atrium practice yard to his quarters.


    Now she¡¯s here, crossing the atrium and turning into the breezeway connecting the kitchen to the dining area. Accompanied by Antje a young, talented master¡¯s assistant, with a terrible personality.


    She should try and placate his curiosity, ¡°I don¡¯t know why I hyped up that letter so much. It¡¯s only important to me after all.¡±


    Antje doesn¡¯t believe her, ¡°If it was only important to you, why¡¯d you take it to Master Adara?¡±


    Those silly alarm bells start going off, ¡°Why would you think that?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been parading it around the study all day, then you disappear, and I find you outside her office without it.


    ¡°What else am I to think. Then I see you with Stupid-snoop Leven; if he¡¯s interested, I know it¡¯s something big.¡±


    She had a lie ready for this occasion, ¡°The letter is big news from my family in Twoya, I went to Master Adara for advice. She gave her advice; I threw the letter away as I had already read it a dozen times and while the news was important, there was nothing sentimental about the letter itself. If you¡¯re so curious, you should go and ask Master Adera if you can empty her trash bin.¡±


    Antje blinked twice as if deciding something then continued, ¡°Sorry, I shouldn¡¯t have pressed you. I¡¯ll leave you alone.¡±


    That interaction left Torsha confused, as to which camp Antje belonged, curious and helpful assistant or information digging spy. He may be leaving for his own purposes, or he could be formulating a plan to get into the headmaster¡¯s office before the bin is emptied. Whichever it is, she¡¯s done her part; she¡¯ll fill in Kail tonight.


    Her thoughts are once again interrupted be a young girls voice, ¡°Can I join you?¡±


    Looking up, Torsha is pleasantly surprised to see Roos, ¡°That would be nice.¡±


    ¡°I figured you wanted company since you¡¯re sitting alone in a cafeteria without any food.¡±


    Torsha looks at the empty table before her and chides herself for being so distracted that she forgot to pick up some food on her way to the table.


    Roos takes a seat next to Torsha and slides her tray halfway between the two of them.


    ¡°You can have the cookie; I¡¯ll grab another on my way to the library.¡±


    That reminds Torsha, ¡°If you¡¯re looking for the notebook you left up there; Leven has it.¡±


    Roos scrunches her face, opens her book bag and rummages through it, ¡°It must be someone else¡¯s; mine is right where it belongs, and I haven¡¯t used the library all week.¡±


    Alarm bells start clanging in Torsha¡¯s head as she visualizes Leven holding up a notebook for her to see.


    ¡°My mistake.¡±

 Chapter Nine - Meetings

    The Sanctuary, Murder Beach


    Renzo leads his three roommates, Edith, Luscin, and Teum to the under-town sanctuaries town hall entrance. Nervously pumping the two defenders for any information on Malo that he should know so as to not offend him.


    Teum is all too happy to help, ¡°The first thing you need to know about Malo is he suffered hearing loss before his gift emerged. You¡¯ll want to talk loudly and make sure he can see your mouth when you talk so he can read your lips.¡±


    Renzo nervously takes it in, ¡°Thank you, Master Fox.¡±


    ¡°Oh, and you know he¡¯s royalty, right?¡±


    ¡°I do recall that he was adopted into a small provincial kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well don¡¯t imply Brust Valley is anything but a powerful kingdom. He touchy about that and insists on being addressed as Lord Defender Brust unless he tells you otherwise.¡±


    ¡°Lord Brust, right.¡±


    ¡°No, Lord Defender Brust and don¡¯t get on his bad side he takes first impressions seriously.¡±


    Luscin has almost had enough but doesn¡¯t see the harm. Edith is finding this advice a bit incredulous considering how well they spoke of the boy in the past.


    Renzo is too nervous to consider using his ability to evaluate the advice and nods along and asks, ¡°Anything else I should know?¡±


    ¡°Umm, don¡¯t be surprised by his size. He¡¯s touchy about his height, being as short as he is he can sometimes compensate by being aggressive.¡±


    Luscin snickers as the quartet rounds the last stair landing.


    Renzo stops, holding up the procession, ¡°That¡¯s him. I recognize that feeling. I couldn¡¯t feel him once he entered the under-town. Now that we¡¯re so close and inside the sanctuary it¡¯s unmistakable.


    ¡°You all fee this too, right?¡±


    Miss Jones whispers, ¡°I do, it¡¯s like that day in Mosquito Beach. I¡¯ve never heard of anyone having such an aura.¡±


    Teum adds, ¡°I¡¯ve heard of one other being that projects an aura that can be felt by others; the Free¡¯er.¡±


    Luscin isn¡¯t sure if Teum is baiting them or not, punches his stomach just in case.


    Taking the lead, Luscin pushes forward, ¡°Let¡¯s go. It¡¯s Malo not the Free¡¯er down there.¡±


    Teum at her side, they descend the last flight of stairs and enter through the open sanctuary door.


    Renzo finally gets his first look at Lord Defender Brusk, does a double take, burns two minutes inwardly berating himself for being gullible before looking to Teum then Luscin, ¡°None of that was true, was it?¡±


    Luscin rolls her eyes in answer.


    Malo is struggling to assemble a podium to replace the one he broke. Dressed in his Defender blacks holding a hammer in one hand a board with a bent nail in the other, he could not look more out of place.


    Teum loudly interrupts, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re trying your hand at carpentry?¡±


    Looking up at hearing a familiar voice, ¡°Teum!¡±


    Dropping everything Malo bounds down the aisle to greet his friends.


    Malo scoops Teum and Luscin up in a hug that surprises both of them.


    Luscin is the first to speak, ¡°Glad to see-you-too-please-put me down.¡±


    Releasing his friends, ¡°Oh sorry. You¡¯ll never guess who I met in El¡¯Hat!¡±


    ¡°I imagine you¡¯re right, so tell us.¡±


    ¡°You remember the Dragon from the lava fields?¡±


    Teum questions, ¡°Is there another?¡±


    ¡°There kind of is¡­¡±


    Now it¡¯s Luscin¡¯s turn to interject, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I met her in El¡¯Hat, she¡¯s the same dragon but she has a human body now.¡±


    Nobody knows what to make of this news. It was too incredulous to be real.


    After an awkward moment of silence, Edith clears her throat.


    Luscin meekly turns, ¡°Everyone, please accept my apology.


    ¡°I should have made introductions right away. Malo, I¡¯d like to introduce our dear friend, Miss Edith Jones and her companion, Missionary Renzo.¡±


    Renzo nervously shuffles forward, talking loudly, ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure¡­¡± Remembers Teum was making everything up, he finishes in a normal tone, ¡°to meet you.¡±


    Offers his hand, which Malo gladly takes and gives a hearty shake.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, what¡¯s a missionary?¡±


    Taken aback, Renzo wasn¡¯t expecting a need to explain his title to what he considers the source of his religion.


    Renzo burns an hours¡¯ worth of time formulating the perfect response in a single heartbeat.


    Before he can deliver his perfect response, Malo talks over him, ¡°Wow, I¡¯ve never witnessed someone consume so much time to quick-think. I wouldn¡¯t have noticed anywhere else, but down here it¡¯s so quiet that noticing something as subtle as time being eaten becomes noticeable.


    ¡°How long do you think you took?¡±


    Nerves suddenly soothed, Renzo feels completely at ease, ¡°I¡¯d say about an hour.¡±


    ¡°Bang-up. I want to compare notes on your ability and some of mine. There¡¯s so little known about the use of time as an energy. Maybe you can help me become stronger.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like that¡­ ahh Master Def.. Brusk.¡±


    ¡°De¡¯Brusk? You can call Malo, and we can talk about your title later.¡±


    Next Malo greets Miss Jones, taking her hand in his, he gives it a gentle squeeze and bows his head.


    ¡°Well met Miss Jones. These two have told me a little about you, I hope to help you with your problem. Though I don¡¯t know where to start.¡±


    Edit, visibly pleased at the offer, ¡°We¡¯ve been discussing some possibilities while awaiting your return. Renzo has some insights on finding the study in Vorg that will save you some time.¡±


    Perplexed, ¡°Why would I have trouble finding a study?¡±


    Miss Jones, gives one of her secretive smiles, ¡°You¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡±


    ¡°Ok, we can talk about that later. For now, I thought I was going to fix this podium thing and be on my way. I have a lot more to do here than I expected.¡±


    Teum breaks in, ¡°Let me take care of the podium.¡±


    Seeing the mess on the dais, Renzo corrects, ¡°Altar, it¡¯s called an altar. It¡¯s so much more than a podium What did you do with the sanctified one?¡±


    ¡°Sanctified? Dais? I don¡¯t know those words; you can teach me later when we share what we know about burning time.


    ¡°Call it an altar or podium, I could certainly use some help putting it together. As for the one I broke, the mayor hauled it out when I said I wanted to replace it.¡±


    Relief floods Missionary Renzo at news the very surface where Malo received his fifth ascension is safely secured by Mayor Fetter. That broken altar is physical proof that the prophesies are real. Losing it would be a terrible loss for their budding church.


    Taking Teum by the elbow and turning away from the group, ¡°Come on Teum, show me what I¡¯m doing wrong.¡±


    Luscin stops Renzo when he tries to follow, ¡°Leave them, they have a lot of catching up to do.¡±


    Sad to lose the opportunity to assemble the new altar alongside Malo, Renzo sighs in acquiescence.


    The room¡¯s perfect speaker-oriented acoustics carry Teum¡¯s words to the trio as they leave.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need more lumber than I see here. Did you even have a plan?¡±


    ¡°I had an idea¡­ there¡¯s a lumber yard on the other side of town. I was told to take whatever I needed.


    ¡°But don¡¯t worry, I paid for everything I took so far and will cover whatever you may need.¡±


    Teum knows the answer but asks anyways, ¡°Are you hungry? Because I am and you can pay for my labor by feeding me.¡±


    The group turns the corner and misses Malo¡¯s reply.


    Once alone, Teum abruptly changes the subject, ¡°I need to see it, and this is the safest place for you to show anyone.¡±


    ¡°See it?¡±


    Malo thinks for a second, ¡°You mean my spirit?¡±


    Teum looks at Malo like he¡¯s stupid, ¡°No your manhood. Of course, your spirit!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s such a good idea. It¡¯s grown a lot since we first met.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I need to see and get a feel for it. You know in case I have to¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that! You promised not to.¡±


    ¡°Malo, I don¡¯t want to, but this is bigger than either of us. You of all people should know that.


    ¡°Now drop your cloak and show me, you big stupid-face.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t drop all the cloaks, just the top one. That should shield your mind enough where you won¡¯t get any dumber than you already are.¡±


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    Teum smirks and waves his hand for Malo to continue.


    Dropping the outer of three cloaks, Malo waits for less than a second before reapplying it.


    Teum becomes catatonic.


    Scared, Malo uses all of his senses to observe Teum¡¯s mind and spirit. They are both in disarray but seem to be stabilizing.


    Coming to, ¡°Malo why did you leave it exposed for so long. That felt like days to me, how long was I staring?¡±


    ¡°Less than a second, then you checked out for a few minutes and now your sitting here looking at me like I¡¯m the crazy one.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let me do that again, tell me no next time. It felt like watching the birth of a universe and the whole time knowing with certainty where I was in that ever-expanding space, and it was made clear to me how insignificant my presence was. It kept growing and I became less important with every passing millennium. But the weird part was the voice.¡±


    ¡°Voice? What did it say?¡±


    ¡°I could never tell for certain, but I think it was asking me my name.


    ¡°At some point I remembered where I was, and a design for this altar we¡¯re building came to mind. That was when I woke up.


    ¡°Come on, we¡¯re going to need far more supplies than I first thought.¡±


    Two days, and two trips to the lumber yard and three trips for tools and supplies, the new altar was complete.


    The town had moved services to the upstairs community hall to stay out of Malo¡¯s way. The feelings of the townspeople are a mixture of awe and fear. They are all in awe of his presence and can barely work when he exits the sanctuary and its energy cage. Half are jubilant that he¡¯s here and the other half are fearful he¡¯ll turn his wrath on them, similar to the way he grieved the loss of his aunt. Had anyone else done what he did they would be outraged. Because of whom he is, while they may have felt violated, it was by someone they¡¯ve venerated all their lives. Emotions mixed, and actions curbed by faith in the part he will play in The Return, the faith of the descendants of val¡¯Air deepens.


    Malo couldn¡¯t be more pleased with Teum¡¯s work. The new altar is both practical and special. At first, he didn¡¯t understand what Teum was thinking, but then he explained what the sanctuary is used for and why the people of old val¡¯Air hold him in such high regard.


    ¡°Thank you Teum. I didn¡¯t fully realize what was going on here. Nobody will talk to me about this place.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because they don¡¯t want to interfere with the prophecies. If you knew what was written and chose not to do some of those actions, it would blow up their whole religion.¡±


    ¡°This is crazy. I may be a catalyst for The Return but it¡¯s not like I¡¯m doing anything on purpose. Most of my life¡­ no all of my life has been happening to me, I¡¯ve been reacting to one event after the other. Event after event, there¡¯s never a choice but to forge ahead. It¡¯s like these prophecies have already mapped out my life for me.¡±


    ¡°Malo, I¡¯m no wise man and I¡¯m probably less educated than you, but that¡¯s a pile of inu-shit. Every event or obstacle that you¡¯ve faced has presented a choice. Just because you don¡¯t hesitate to make the correct one doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re not choosing. I¡¯ve never seen you back down from a challenge. And I¡¯ve known you from before you understood how indestructible you are. You¡¯re no slave to these prophecies; the prophecies in that book are vague nonsense that can be interpreted to fit many circumstances. The fact that so many can be ascribed to you, is proof of the impact your decisions are making in the world.¡±


    Malo takes a moment to appreciate the compliments, since he left Brusk Valley he doesn¡¯t get many of those.


    ¡°Well, thank you for that, and thank you for building this bang-up altar. I think the people here are going to love it.


    ¡°Was that the right way to use that word?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I think you¡¯re right. They will love it.¡±


    ¡°Great, let¡¯s go find Luscin and get out of here.¡±


    On their way out they let the mayor¡¯s office know they were done, and the sanctuary is available to use once again.


    When Mayor Fetter hears the news, he checks in to see how good of a job the two did. What he found brought tears to his eyes.


    Teum used the knowledge he learned under the tutelage of his father as a carpenter to craft a replacement that had a base designed to appear as the original broken altar, with wood artificially splintered and stained to appear broken and aged. Atop that homage to the past, using lumber stained a lighter color he built up from the broken foundation a new mensa. The final creation, a fresh start built upon a battered foundation. This is exactly what they need as they spread the word of Grace. The broken altar, undisputable proof of the prophecies, will be displayed in every church they build, now and forever.


    Mammatus Study


    Circling the study once before setting down, Teum observes, ¡°Nique and Sheen should have arrived yesterday. Do you think it¡¯s ok if we let them wait a day while we check in with Master Adara.¡±


    Luscin nods, ¡°Sure, we said we¡¯d give them three days. Day three is tomorrow, and we really should make sure the study will take them on before we bring them over.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be a problem. Can you imagine the kind of crazy stuff Master Baily and Sheen could come up with? Baily is a genius, and Sheen is a mad scientist through and through. The two working together will make some incredible inventions.


    ¡°Next imagine defenders with skills learned from Master Blackwell and drilled into them by Nique, they¡¯ll be some of the most formidable fighters in the world.


    ¡°I know those two were misguided before, but they came around to reason eventually. I think they¡¯ll make excellent additions to Mammatus Study.¡±


    Luscin likes what she heard, ¡°You said that well, I¡¯ll let you take the lead when we talk to Master Adara.¡±


    Teum wasn¡¯t planning on taking the lead, but hearing the confidence in his wife¡¯s voice inspired him to do so and to do his best.


    ¡°What do you think Luscin, land in the back courtyard or risk a roof top landing?¡±


    ¡°Come on you¡¯re not taking what Master Terius at his word are you?¡±


    ¡°I cracked the study roof! If I do it again, I¡¯m not allowed to fly until he tests me.¡±


    ¡°That was a long time ago.¡±


    ¡°Two months is not a long time.¡±


    ¡°You land where you want. I¡¯m using the roof. Let me go first and I¡¯ll spot you.¡±


    Luscin, having learned her lessons the hard way, makes her approach a shallow, easily controlled angle. Doing the same, Teum lands just as gently.


    There¡¯s a lever on the wall next to the roof access doorway attached to a rope that disappears into the building. Luscin gives it a quick pull, ringing a bell outside the headmaster¡¯s office. It¡¯s a new installation necessitated by the increased number of Defenders that have taken up flying.


    A page if on duty will be dispatched to greet them. None intercept them as they head down the single flight and hallway leading to the room with the now silent bell.


    Instead of finding an empty antechamber, they see the young page Roos sitting slouched in her chair. Eyes puffy from crying.


    Seeing who it is, Roos knocks on the office door and voice cracking, ¡°Go on in.¡±


    Master Vania Adera stands up when they enter, already on their feet are Master Kail Blackwell, an older student they barely know named Torsha, and Master Terius.


    Vania is glad to see the duo appear at such an opportune time and lets them know it by issuing an invitation, ¡°How would you two like to help us capture a spy that has lived amongst us for more than fourteen years?¡±


    Teum blurts, ¡°Already?¡±


    Luscin follows up with the more important question, ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve had nearly two months to smoke him out. He¡¯s clever and well placed, it seems obvious in hindsight.¡±


    Teum checks off who could have been around for more than fourteen years and not be a study master. If it were one of them, they wouldn¡¯t be so cavalier. A teary-eyed Roos is the last piece he needed to make an educated guess.


    ¡°It¡¯s Leven, isn¡¯t it.¡±


    Nobody denies it.


    Luscin gasps, how did she not see it? All those years ago, she said it herself. He reminded her of Alfie, the biggest traitor she could have ever imagined. But he said all the right words and gained her trust anyways, just like Alfie.


    She feels like this just became personal, ¡°Do we know where he is right now?¡±


    Master Blackwell answers, ¡°We do, but our interrogator won¡¯t be here until the four o¡¯clock train arrives.¡±


    Teum is surprised by that word, ¡°We have interrogators?¡±


    ¡°We did, but he recently departed our company. That duty belonged to Master Robles. He was trained by one of the best mind probers in the world. She¡¯s called Arachne, she¡¯s a Master in a secret study in the heart of the Peoples Province of Vorg. The place they send political prisoners to be debriefed and re-educated. Since he is no longer available, we sent for someone younger who has received the same training, or so we hope. We actually have no idea if she completed that leg of her practicum.¡±


    ¡°Wait, do you mean Sanne? Those two were best friends. I can¡¯t imagine I¡¯m saying this but what if she had been working with him?¡±


    Kail quietly answers, ¡°We¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡±


    Terius interjects, ¡°Sanne isn¡¯t the kind of person you¡¯d recruit to be a spy. While she would be easy to blackmail into doing anything. Her attitude and substance abuse habits would make her a huge security risk. The fact that she¡¯s alive tells me she can¡¯t be involved. At least not knowingly, I¡¯m sure she divulged plenty of information while impaired over the years. The staff knew that and kept her clear of sensitive information whenever possible.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Master La Fox, one of our few lapses in that regard was the letter from your mother.¡±


    ¡°Funny, I was just thinking back to that time myself. Don¡¯t fret over the past, it all turned out for the best.¡±


    Luscin pushes down the invoked memories, the battle between Master Adara and the Hag, the encounter with her old windrunner master. The memories from that moment on are headache inducing, as many of them were erased, replaced, or fabricated, until Malo fixed her head and bequeathed her a true-spirit.


    Teum has been meaning to ask something and figures this is as good a time as any, ¡°You keep referring to us as masters, but we¡¯ve not taken our oaths. Is there something I missed?


    Master Adara, with her butt perched on the edge of the headmaster¡¯s desk, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ve not been promoted to Defender status in secret.


    ¡°Our Dean of Testing and Evaluation has elevated you from student status to that of faculty on the merit of your actions in the field.


    ¡°Something he does not do lightly or often.¡±


    Luscin and Teum both look to Terius incredulously and receive a nod of respect from their mentor and friend.


    Both bow their heads in return while saying in unison, ¡°Thank you Master.¡±


    City, Province of Rebirth


    Thinking of the Governor of the Southern Shores has Lady Terara distracted, she barely pays attention as her driver revved up the flywheel that powers her carriage. The deep buzzing of hundreds of ball bearings, allowing the thousand-pound wheel to rotate smoothly at 500 RPM, provided the perfect white noise to help her tune out her surroundings. He was everything a woman could want, handsome, powerful, confident, and single. She should be receptive to his obvious advances, but it¡¯s too soon. She still weeps at night at the loss of her husband.


    Climbing into the carriage assisted by the same carriage driver, she settles into the passenger seat as he walks around to the other side, sits, and takes the wheel. Inu drawn carriages are still common amongst many of her contemporaries when they wish to flaunt their wealth and power, while electric carriages are used for day-to-day travel. Her late husband didn¡¯t return to Rebirth often, when he did, he liked to make a statement; a carriage capable of 600 inu power does that.


    Distractedly watching the street lights flow past, she barely notices the driver walking the transmission up and down the first three gears as he navigates the city traffic. When the street lights disappear, her gaze returns face forward and watches the street roll unending, illuminated by the coups headlamps.


    Half an hour later, she barely notices the carriage slowing to navigate the turn off to her new home away from the valley she knew and loved.


    She blushes with the thought of that word, if only she knew it when Jgeorg was still alive, she would have expressed her love in words every day. She briefly wonders if having such a word would have led to trivializing the feeling. Without it, she had to find ways to show him how much he meant to her and he to her. Eyes misting at the thought of him, she shakes her head and tires to regain her composure.


    ¡°It¡¯s ok, Lady. We all miss him as much as you do.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Clovis. You always know what I¡¯m thinking.¡±


    ¡°When you start to cry every time you ride in his carriage, it¡¯s obvious. I could procure a different vehicle for your use. I may be uniquely qualified to operate this one, but I can control a draught driven carriage as easily as electric.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve made the offer before and my answer hasn¡¯t changed. I enjoy the smooth feel and the dangerous power this carriage exudes as much as Jgeorg did.¡±


    ¡°Of course, milady. Will you be remaining at the house for the night or should I keep the carriage at the ready.¡±


    ¡°You know very well that I have nowhere to go, please assist me out of this cramped little seat.¡±


    Clovis had his door open and was halfway around the carriage, while the whine of the flywheel dropped from its high pitched scream to a low groan. Opening her door the wheel is nearly out of energy, he offers an expected but unrequired hand that is gratefully accepted and pulls the lady from her seat as the flywheel gently stops.


    ¡°Thank you clovis, I¡¯ll not require your services for the rest of the evening, you may retire.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    Clovis doesn¡¯t object but his duty as bodyguard does not end just because she says so.


    Escorting her to the front door, which opens on their arrival.


    ¡°Welcome home Lady Brusk¡±


    Terara is still reconciling her quasi royalty status from the valley to her mere upper-class status as a member of the powerhouse Brusk family of Rebirth. In many ways she¡¯s paid much more attention here than back home and it can be unsettling. In the valley she was royalty by title, but public servant by nature. Here she¡¯s a highly ranked member of the second largest employer in the wealthiest city in South Cenoka.


    Sylus her butler and cook as well as Clovis her driver and bodyguard, while always professional, they¡¯re too subservient for her comfort.


    ¡°Thank you, Sylus you didn¡¯t have to wait up for me.¡±


    ¡°I know that, but I prepared a delicious pot of Cavi bourguignon and wanted to make sure you didn¡¯t go to bed on an empty stomach.¡±


    Terara wasn¡¯t hungry, but then as his words reached her ears, the scent of cavi stew reached her nostrils. She was about to beg off eating when her stomach let out a yearning growl.


    ¡°The formal dining table is set for two.¡±


    Turning to the driver, ¡°Clovis you should attend the Lady, she has an unexpected guest who was very persuasive to receive an audience with the lady tonight.¡±


    Pulling his vest tight, Sylus reveals two slashes that had gone unnoticed until now.


    Clovis flicks both arms, dropping weighted lead balls into each hand. Holding enough kinetic to generate a sustained six hundred inu power he hopes it¡¯s enough.

 Chapter Ten – Stone-Cold Killer

    Rebirth, Casa Abaya


    Lady Tera Brusk straightens herself, subconsciously brushing away her emotional indulgences of a moment ago. This is her ancestral home, the place where she was raised; it¡¯s been infiltrated by an unknown entity that has demonstrated its willingness to cause harm. As a representative of the second most powerful family on the continent this must be addressed appropriately.


    Her heart races, but this is nothing like the terror she felt the night of her husband¡¯s death. Every danger since has paled next to that horrifying night. Whatever lies ahead will be faced without fear of outcome. Nothing can kill you when you are already dead inside.


    Clovis follows close on her heals, she can feel the violence he represents without any gift of her own. The contained energy from the flywheel can¡¯t be felt without the gift, yet the awareness of its presence raises the hair on her arms none the less.


    Sylus leads the pair unnecessarily through the home.


    ¡°Sylus, you say I have a guest for dinner; did this person give a name?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid there were not many words exchanged. He appeared in the kitchen an hour ago and after a brief exchange of cooking knives, he told me he would be joining you for dinner and sat himself at your table.¡±


    ¡°Is there anything else I should know?¡±


    ¡°He wears a mask.¡±


    This could be any number of her past decisions coming back to bite her, an insulted suitor, her brother-in-law¡¯s final negation tactic, or the result of the many threads she was told to leave alone yet pulled anyways.


    Arriving at the dining hall, conversations are curtailed. Sylus continues into the room and heads to the kitchen to begin the food service. Clovis accompanies Terara to her seat at the head of the table.


    The uninvited guest already seated, does not rise. He appears to be small, covered from head to toe, no physical features besides weight and height can be discerned. A battered brown hooded robe, white gloves, black pants, and worn brown boots make up his ensemble. His face as warned is covered by a mask, a plain white oval with a simple face painted on its surface, comprised of two dots and a straight line. No opening for sight or air, a clear indication of power.


    Terara waits as if at a court function, back straight, expressionless as Sylus brings a covered tray and presents its contents for her approval. She indicates her acceptance with a subtle nod and watches as the first course is set before her and the masked intruder.


    Ignoring the small plate with a mix of cheese, sliced sausage, and apple slices she continues her courtly duties and waits. The presence of Clovis at her back continues to feel menacing and dangerous, a destructive force if unleashed that would devastate this entire wing of Casa Abaya.


    The mysterious interloper sits so still he disappears from perception. A novel decoration that looks out of place but not warranting any thought.


    The minutes stretch with neither party speaking nor acknowledging the food in front of them. Ten minutes after setting down the two plates, Sylus returns and takes the untouched food away.


    The door between kitchen and dining room is still swinging when it reopens on Sylus¡¯s return with another tray. Presented, approved, a matching pair of soup bowls filled with bright-red borscht. The soup is served chilled with a slice of toasted bread on the side.


    Lady Terara continues to wait, as manors and diplomatic customs dictate. Her guest is welcome to begin at any time but chooses not to. This isn¡¯t her first awkward meal, and hopefully not her last.


    Ten minutes later the borscht joins the charcuterie, uneaten in the kitchen. The next tray presented contains the main course, cavi bourguignon, and takes its place in front of the two silent diners.


    The until now motionless intruder slowly picks up his napkin. His motions so subtle Clovis doesn¡¯t detect the movement until the napkin unfolds with a little shake.


    Clovis has a clear line of fire, rotates his wrists to expose the lead shots to his target.


    Napkin in lap, the intruder picks up a fork and pokes it around the bowl until he finds what he¡¯s looking for. A gentle stab secures his target, and he brings the soft piece of cavi up to his chin.


    Using his off hand, he pulls the mask forward and quickly eats the morsal before reseating his face covering.


    Guest fed, it can begin.


    ¡°You¡¯ve accepted my hospitality.¡±


    Clovis nearly lets his first shot loose as the intruder slams his fork to the table, ¡°You offered no-such thing. There is no binding of my behavior with social niceties.¡±


    It¡¯s a gamble she must take, presuming the wrong thing here could be death, ¡°But I did, when I summoned you.¡±


    ¡°I was not summoned; I came here of my own volition.¡±


    ¡°Yes, to size me up after you learned I was interested in your services.¡±


    If correct this is the man she heard can do the impossible, she was warned to not inquire too openly or risk a late-night visit from a faceless assassin.


    ¡°I was told all I needed to do to gain an audience was to make my interests known to certain principles. I did so, and here you are, eating at my table.


    ¡°I don¡¯t presume you to be bound to anything. I am merely stating the obvious so we can begin.¡±


    The intruder pushes back his hood and removes his mask. Underneath is a face blurred by the gift, revealing nothing more than his short, cropped silver hair.


    Taking up his fork once more he savors two bites before continuing the conversation, ¡°You do realize, I¡¯m the faceless assassin here to kill you right?¡±


    ¡°If you wanted me to believe that, you would not have scuffled with my cook. The cost of his vest will be part of our negotiated price for your services.¡±


    ¡°I did that so I could have dinner, this stew smelled too good to pass up.¡±


    Arching an eyebrow to show her disbelief, ¡°Maybe I made a mistake. I was looking for someone who takes their job seriously.¡±


    Waiting to swallow another spoonful of the hearty, perfectly seasoned stew, ¡°I take everything I do seriously. It¡¯s people that I take lightly.


    ¡°Take your man standing behind you. He operates a flywheel driven carriage; he must be holding enough destructive force to level half this building. He doesn¡¯t concern me half as much as your chef. The layers of flavor in the dish could mask two poisons and one paralytic. When I smelled what he was preparing I had to search his pantry and room to ensure he didn¡¯t have a fourth job.¡±


    Now both of Terara¡¯s eyebrows dig furrows as she becomes concerned by that number.


    ¡°Oh, I see you only know of the two that you pay for.


    ¡°Besides running your household and cooking these fine meals as contracted by you, he is also under contract with Anton Brusk to report what you¡¯re up to from day to day. He has other spies scurrying around the estate where you conduct business, but you know who those are.¡±


    Lady Terara takes note that she¡¯ll need to find a new chef, ¡°Our current spy network is focused on business, it¡¯s ill equipped for what¡¯s coming.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Setting down his fork and picking up a chunk of bread, he waves it around as he speaks, ¡°You never outright said what you really wanted, but I am able to infer much from your comments and current world events, you¡¯d have me create a coast-to-coast operational intelligence gathering operation, that functions undetected, and is absolutely loyal to your cause. Am I close?¡±


    ¡°Not bad, but I don¡¯t ask as much as you think. Their loyalty should be to you as they will never know their original employer and I could care less if their existence is known. I want others to seek out their intelligence and buy it. No matter which side of the upcoming conflict they throw their loyalty. I want the battle lines to be clear, no backstabbing by supposed allies. If someone tries to switch sides mid battle, I want everyone to know about it.¡±


    Taking a sip of warm water, ¡°We are a strange people. Willing to give up a key advantage, to keep things on the level. I often wonder if our creators built us to be like this, to keep us from dominating each other in perpetuity. We weren¡¯t always so fair-minded. Our distant ancestors mercilessly slaughtered each other and used every advantage with no thought of debt or repayment. The Lost Children and War Born still reflect that behavior, but the history books tell us they were so much worse in the past.


    ¡°This war will be like nothing any of us have ever seen. I¡¯ll take your job, the cost will be start-up expenses only, we¡¯ll keep the proceeds from the information sales, and Sylus will need to be killed or he¡¯ll leak you plan to Anton. Your idea of a secretly-yet-openly sharing information network will only work if the intent remains unknown.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about Clovis there. He doesn¡¯t know it, but he already works for me. The PPoV has people all over the world unknowingly selling information to them.¡±


    Clovis hides the lead shots but stays prepared to act, ¡°Please believe me lady. Your late husband authorized me to take the job so long as I only supplied information on our competitors. He said if I refused, they would simply hire someone else.¡±


    The man with the blurred face adds, ¡°It was a good ruse for a while. Eventually the intelligence hole regarding the Brusk Empire became obvious and I was forced to seek that second hireling.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had my fill of this excellent stew, do I kill the chef or not?¡±


    Lady Terara Brusk looks past the foot of the table to the wall where hangs a painting of her mother and father. Her hope of their image conjuring some emotional turmoil are dashed when she continues to feel nothing.


    ¡°Yes, I see that he must die. I¡¯d do it myself if I could do so swiftly and painlessly. I¡¯ve never received such training, but the blood will be as surly on my hands as if I did.¡±


    The man with the blurred face pauses in consideration, ¡°Do you mean that?¡±


    ¡°Mean what?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d do it if you were trained?¡±


    ¡°I said the words, I guess I¡¯ll never know for sure.¡±


    Invisible bindings appear and encapsulate Clovis, especially his hands which are clenching those lead balls again. A sensory hood completes his confinement, with no way of telling where anyone is standing, even if he sacrificed body parts, he has no way to target.


    In the same eye-blink used to neutralize bodyguard Clovis, the man with the blurred face leaps sideways over the table and grabs Lady Terara by the hair, dragging her to the floor.


    She screams as she¡¯s brutally bounced across the dining hall and thrown through the kitchen doors like a rag doll.


    Landing next to her chef who is also bound, Terara feels the first glimmer of danger awaken.


    The man once again wearing his white mask walks casually through the swinging doors and stoops next to his two victims.


    He casually pulls a small worn case from an inside pocket. Opens it and shows both the contents, ¡°This syringe contains a toxin that will deaden a person¡¯s nervous system. Too much and they¡¯ll die, I¡¯ll be sure to not kill you, Sylus. It would tear up my heart after tasting your cooking to do so.


    ¡°If I administer the right amount you¡¯ll be paralyzed and unable to feel anything for around twenty minutes, I¡¯m sorry to report that you¡¯ll feel like you¡¯ve been lit on fire for the next twenty hours as it wears off.


    ¡°To save you from the uncomfortable fate, the good Lady Terara has offered her services as a mercy.


    ¡°Sit up Terara, you can¡¯t be a butcher laying on the ground.¡±


    Fetching a large meat cleaver, he returns to the lady and drops the knife in front of her kneeling form.


    Two taps to the forearm and a suitable vein pops up on Sylus¡¯s arm. Needle in, plunger pushed, the neurolytic agent begins to work immediately.


    The faceless assassin speaks quietly, ¡°Here¡¯s your chance to put words to action.¡±


    Raising his voice, ¡°You¡¯re not escaping. I freed you so the lady could have an audience; join us.¡±


    Clovis appears through the doorway and whispers, ¡°No! Allow me to do this for you lady.¡±


    The brief tickle of danger is gone, she looks at the blank mask, then to Clovis and locks eyes with him. She doesn¡¯t remember picking up the cleaver, but she is acutely aware of deciding to strike downward with all her might and cleaving halfway through the neck of Sylus, someone she¡¯s known for twenty-two years.


    Blood splashes and pumps from his open arteries, spraying her and the room alike.


    Since everyone else has been whispering it seems appropriate for her to follow suite, ¡°Are you satisfied that I am a woman of my word?¡±


    Squatting while balanced on his heels, ¡°Yes, yes I am.¡±


    The lights flicker and the faceless assassin disappears.


    She knows she¡¯s holding a meat cleaver; she sees a letter opener. The dead chef in this light with blood oozing from his neck bares an uncanny likeness to her dead husband, dead by the same hand; her hand.


    Blinking her eyes until the cleaver is a cleaver and the dead chef is Sylus, she still feels nothing inside.


    Setting down the heavy blade she returns her unblinking dead eyes back to Clovis, ¡°There appears to have been a break-in, see if anything is missing then prepare a grave for our departed friend and colleague.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tidy up in here.¡±


    ¡°Yes milady.¡±


    Clovis knew his employer was tough, but he never imagined she was also a stone-cold killer.


    Rebirth, Outside the Wall of Casa Abaya


    The masked man slips over the three yard high wall like stepping over a stone. Darting across the road he enters the surrounding woods. Ten minutes of rapid dodging through trees under the full moon brings him to a farmhouse, where warm light spills out through the floor to ceiling windows.


    Peering into the home he sees a sight that brings out his true nature, lighting a fire in his core making his cheeks flush.


    Four women sit around a fireplace in plush chairs, wrapped in blankets with cups of some hot liquid cupped in their hands. The sight enflames the masked man¡¯s base desires, he watches three of the four women laugh over some unheard joke. The sole abstainer from merriment is a War Born. All four are dressed provocatively as expected of women in their forties, a War Born, a golden haired beauty, a blue haired vixen, and a redheaded waif.


    The masked man watches until he can no longer control himself, giving in to his inner desires, he knocks on the front door. Heightening the experience, he shuts down his gift enhanced senses and eagerly observes the light from under the door.


    No longer able to see his quarry, he imagines them looking back and forth, imploring each other nonverbally to go answer the door. One of them sighing in resignation, setting their cup on a side table, and awkwardly standing up and tossing their blanket over the back of their chair.


    Which morsal will it be that answer the door, they¡¯re all equally desirable. Shivers ran up his spine as the shadow of feet showed under the door.


    The door is thrown open, it¡¯s the War Born.


    Shouting, ¡°Puck!¡± Shelly throws her arms around the masked man.


    It takes less than ten seconds for the other three women to join the pair in the doorway.


    At some point the mask, gloves, and ugly brown robe are discarded, revealing the youthful boy underneath. Silver hair, upturned nose, and deep blue eyes.


    The quartet dragged the boy inside.


    ¡°Tell us everything! Did they try to hurt you?¡±


    The boy, sounding distraught, ¡°They were terrible. The woman is a killer, she murdered her chef in front of my eyes because she thought he betrayed her.¡±


    Three voices in unison, ¡°No!¡±


    Sherry, always quick to catch on, ¡°Did you suggest he did?¡±


    Sheepishly, ¡°Yes, but it was the truth. The man was spying on her.¡±


    ¡°Then, he had it coming.¡±


    Dead chef forgotten, the women push the boy into a chair and foist a cup of hot chocolate into his hands.


    Blanket across lap, warm cup in hand, Puck feels more himself than he did a half hour ago. He¡¯d like to relax and enjoy the moment, but he has a job. He promised the Lady Terara an information sharing apparatus, he will deliver.


    Looking at the four adoring women that followed him here, ¡°Ladies, I could stay and cuddle with you all night¡­ actually, if its ok with everyone, I¡¯d like that. But first we need to talk about the work ahead.¡±


    The four woman have already nestled back into comfy chairs and retrieved their hot chocolate. Each of them content where they are, eyes locked on Puck, anxious to hear whatever he wants to talk about.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been asked to create a coast to coast spy network, that shares information to every side of the coming conflict. What do you think I should do?¡±


    Shelly states, ¡°That will be no easy task, I¡¯d reject the job.¡±


    The redheaded waif, Gege counters, ¡°Don¡¯t you already have information networks feeding North and South Cenoka sources?¡±


    Abott, the blue haired vixen, ¡°Yes, we could create a third shadow network that leaks information between the two.¡±


    The golden haired beauty, Silk adds, ¡°This network could be incredibly small. Maybe four dedicated women that know you better than anyone?¡±


    Puck, his masked persona forgotten, ¡°You four are the best, I couldn¡¯t imagine a better group of supporters.


    ¡°Everything you said sounds perfect. Proof that I could not have a smarter,¡± pausing to look each in the eye, ¡°more beautiful group of friends at my side.¡±


    The four women gaze adoringly at their employer, confidant, and best friend.


    ¡°I¡¯m sleepy, is there a bed we can cuddle in?¡±


    All four nod and as one, get up and lead Puck to the large bed with five pillows and enough blankets for all.

 Chapter Eleven – Vorg Time

    Northern Swamps


    Missionary Renzo is honored to be allowed to help Malo with his journey in search of the study hidden within Western Vorg. Along the way he¡¯s vowed to listen to every word and watch every action to see if any other prophecies are fulfilled.


    The trip for Renzo is by inu, Malo runs along, ahead, and around them tirelessly. Tirelessly isn¡¯t an exaggeration, he never wants to stop, he sleeps maybe an hour every other night. When asked why he just laughs and says the world is too bright and loud and won¡¯t let him sleep.


    Renzo told him he should close his eyes more often and try, eliciting the cryptic reply, ¡°How do you close your mind¡¯s eye?¡±


    That exchange went into his notebook, maybe a smarter scholar will understand the deeper meaning of his words, long after Missionary Renzo has achieved grace himself.


    It¡¯s their third nighttime stop, Malo is doing his usual staring longingly at the stars and listening to a universe only he can hear. Renzo drifts off to sleep, when he¡¯s awakened by the bark of an inu and the insistent hushing of someone with no concept of quiet.


    Rolling to his side he watches Malo and the 500-pound mount, Molly roughhousing in the tall plains grass by moonlight. Even at the distance of fifty yards he can feel Molly hitting the ground and Malo¡¯s stomping and jumping produces a sound he can hear.


    Quietly to himself, ¡°That boy may not need sleep but the inu does.¡±


    Malo stiffens and Molly signals alert.


    Renzo nearly jumps out of his bedroll when Malo responds from where he stands, ¡°Sorry we woke you, but Molly wanted to play. She loves running as much as I do, but we¡¯ve not taken any fun breaks and she¡¯s still a puppy at heart. I couldn¡¯t tell her no.¡±


    Missionary Renzo panics and sits up and says in a rush, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to rebuke you, please continue.¡±


    Grabbing his notebook, he furiously writes down the scene and every word exchanged. Did he just say the inu can speak to him and he understands?


    He quickens his thoughts and ponders the ramifications of Malo understanding the thoughts or words of animals.


    A strange feeling he can¡¯t describe happens and his mind becomes clearer than ever, and he realizes immediately that he¡¯s overthinking every nuance and not observing Malo as a whole or even being objective. He can¡¯t keep thinking the boy is divine or on another level. He was warned that Malo is younger than he looks and is far less mature than his age indicates. He should be skeptical, not blindly na?ve as he has been. This realization has him reconsider his approach to his newfound religion and his quest to achieve eternal grace.


    The moment of clarity seems to be over as his expanding enlightenment draws to an end. Renzo shakes his head and returns his thoughts to normal and notices that Malo is watching him from two yards away now.


    ¡°What did it feel like?¡±


    Renzo has no idea what Malo is referring to, ¡°What did what feel like?¡±


    ¡°Your thoughts, I saw you consuming time, so I fed more into you. With other abilities it amplifies them. Makes you go faster, stronger, hotter, stuff like that. What did it feel like, were your thoughts even faster than usual?¡±


    Renzo fights the urge to speed his thoughts again but decides to take his time answering, ¡°I don¡¯t think my mind sped up, but I was having some incredible clarity of thought and was able to self-reflect better than I¡¯ve ever been able to do. If that was your doing, I owe you a thanks. Thank you.¡±


    Malo looks disappointed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look glum. I think you just discovered a new use for time. I was already using quick-thought as you know. But when you fed me more time, I think you made me smarter. I¡¯d like to try that again when we have a problem to solve if that¡¯s ok with you.¡±


    Malo¡¯s countenance improves at that news. He looks at Renzo¡¯s notebook and gets an idea.


    ¡°Can we try something else?¡±


    Having already vowed to never deny Malo anything, Renzo can only answer affirmative.


    ¡°Can I hold your notebook? I promise to not read it.¡±


    ¡°Of course you can. You can read it too, but all you¡¯re going to find is an accounting of some of our interactions.¡±


    Renzo hands the notebook over to Malo.


    Malo scrunches his face and says, ¡°ahh.¡±


    Hands it back, ¡°That was worse than a waste of time.¡±


    Renzo didn¡¯t notice him doing anything more than hold the notebook for a moment before handing it back in disgust, ¡°What happened.¡±


    ¡°Nothing but a kind of feedback loop.¡±


    ¡°What did you hope would happen?¡±


    ¡°Pick up your pen, you¡¯ll want to write this down. I¡¯ve not told anyone this, and I might not tell anyone else. If you do write it down, please don¡¯t share this until I¡¯m gone.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should not tell me something you wish to keep secret; are you certain?¡±


    Nodding his head, ¡°You know how you don¡¯t want me to read your book of prophecies because you don¡¯t want me to mess them up?¡±


    Uncomfortable hearing Malo knows about the book and their fears, the missionary can only nod.


    ¡°I can see the future.¡±


    Missionary Renzo doesn¡¯t know if Malo is serious or joking as his friend Teum likes to do. This is something that sets Malo so far above every human to make him seem like grace itself.


    ¡°I can see by your heart rate, blood pressure increase, and widening of eyes that you¡¯re having a hard time believing what I said.


    ¡°That¡¯s understandable. I can¡¯t see my future, or even a person¡¯s future. We make too many choices, if I try to see your future all I¡¯ll see is the point where you are about to decide something, then it gets muddled by all your possible choices.


    ¡°But inanimate objects don¡¯t make choices. I can pick up a rock and see what happens to it far into the future. Unless of course someone picks it up and can¡¯t decide if they should throw it or keep it.


    ¡°Your notebook is inanimate. I was hoping to see something written in it that hasn¡¯t happened yet. Since you write everything in it without hesitation, I hoped that meant there was no choice, so no confusion.


    ¡°Maybe that would work if you were recording anyone else¡¯s actions. As usual when I try to find a way to trick time into showing my future it makes my stomach churn.¡±


    After pausing a few heartbeats to consider his next words, Malo continues, ¡°The reason I don¡¯t want to share this with too many people is some people will not believe I can¡¯t see mine or their future and then assume my motives are based on that information. That would make my mistakes look like purposely harmful acts. I can¡¯t think of a scenario where that¡¯s a good thing.¡±


    Missionary Renzo¡¯s felt-tipped pen has yet to make a mark, ¡°Then why tell me?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t see the future for sure, but I can imagine it. Long after I¡¯m gone there will be people making things up and guessing. I want credit and blame for all my decisions, no cop outs pretending to know the future.¡±


    Putting his pen away, ¡°Thank you for your confidence, I¡¯ll record this conversation for your future legacy, but not in this notebook.


    ¡°I¡¯ll use my spare and wait until morning when I have better light and am not suddenly so tired. I wonder if this drowsiness is a side effect of you making me smarter?¡±


    Not waiting for a reply, Renzo lays down and is instantly asleep.


    Morning comes, the travelers break their fast and make the last on foot leg of their journey. Farmland gives way to foothills, then mountains. Now traveling parallel to the Slumbering Seas Mountains, they steadily ascend to a higher elevation to the city of Poorland. Arriving by noon, they catch a train on the North-South Slumbering Seas Railway to Rebirth City. In Rebirth they¡¯ll switch lines to the West-East Transcontinental Railway that will take them to the Peoples Province of Vorg.


    The train car was full when they boarded. Malo has been pretending to sleep because anytime he accidentally made eye contact with anyone, they¡¯d either rush up and hug him or leave the train car in fear or disgust.


    No matter how hard he tries to project a positive affect, his true spirit bleeds through and he¡¯s back to his childhood dilemma where people either like or dislike him on sight for absolutely no discernable reason.


    At first appalled by this phenomenon, Missionary Renzo recalls that moment of clarity the other morning and documents every facet of each encounter.


    Malo stays hunched over as much as possible, there is no hiding his size when he requires two seats to be comfortable. Having purchased third-class tickets, they get seats and no other accommodations for the duration of the ride.


    Upon reaching Rebirth everything changed. They were not in Grand Switching Station for more than a minute before a woman dressed in the Brust colors approached and greeted the two travelers.


    The woman has sun touched skin and brown hair with a yellow stripe, ¡°Lord Brust, allow me to assist with your bag.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°That¡¯s ok, I got it.¡±


    Malo looks around confused, ¡°Who are you exactly?¡±


    Pulling her hand back that had been reaching for Malo¡¯s pack, ¡°My apologies milord. I¡¯m your personal assistant, Sophia.¡±


    The press of people opens up giving the two parties a bubble three yards in diameter.


    Looking side to side and still confused, ¡°But where did you come from?¡±


    Sophia is a little daunted, she was told he was clever; he clearly isn¡¯t. At least he¡¯s nice.


    ¡°When a prominent member of the family is abroad without a predetermined return, we have the train stations and hostel¡¯s keep watch and alert us of their return.


    ¡°I was notified of your arrival two hours ago. I¡¯m told you¡¯ve bought passage to the PPoV, I¡¯ve taken the liberty of upgrading you to first class, and your servant to second.¡±


    That brings everything into focus, ¡°I do not have servants. If you¡¯re speaking of this man, he¡¯s Capitano Lorenzo Fuoco serving the house of Sacchetti. He¡¯s agreed to assist me in navigating the customs and paperwork I¡¯m sure to face during my stay in Vorg.


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to upgrade him as well.¡±


    Sophia braces herself the inevitable tantrum that¡¯s about to ensue, ¡°I can¡¯t do that, there are no more available first-class births.¡±


    Without hesitating Malo suggests, ¡°Chang my cabin to a double occupancy, we can share.¡±


    She doesn¡¯t say, but its already booked for double occupancy, she¡¯s the other passenger. Since he didn¡¯t blow up as she assumed he would she decides to accommodate the Polizia.


    ¡°Give me ten minutes, I¡¯ll have someone vacate their cabin in deference to your traveling companion.¡±


    Renzo has been quietly listening and notes, for the first time since he left his home he is witnessing class-based oppression. Every aspect, the royal title, subservience, blatant use of wealth and privilege are knives in his back. Why is the bringer of grace allowing this?


    ¡°No, Sophia, you will not be taking someone¡¯s cabin; a double berth will be sufficient.¡±


    Temporarily at an impasse, ¡°Yes Lord Brust.¡±


    ¡°And stop with the lord-stuff. That title is inappropriate when I¡¯m dressed in my Defender¡¯s fighting garb. You can call me Malo, like everyone else.¡±


    Sophia is pleased, she was told to get close to him, romantically if possible. Using his first name is a good start.


    ¡°Of course, Malo. I can address you anyway you like.¡±


    Malo has had enough time to figure out some things, ¡°It¡¯s plain to see Lady Terara didn¡¯t hire you, who did?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not certain, this is just an assignment I was given.¡±


    That was all Malo needed, ¡°I didn¡¯t used to be uncomfortable calling people liars. Now that I¡¯ve been trained to spot them, I no longer feel that way.


    ¡°You just lied. This is clearly a well thought out operation but whoever did the research on my preferences in woman only got the skin tone right. I may have fathered children with War Born women, but they are far from my ideal. This is a guess, but you think you¡¯re going to share my cabin don¡¯t you?¡±


    Sophia¡¯s training has her revealing nothing consciously, her elevated heart rate gives lie to her calm composure, ¡°If you¡¯d allow it, of course.¡±


    ¡°Who hired you?¡±


    The crowd expands the empty bubble by another two yards further isolating the trio.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be in trouble if I say, please don¡¯t make me tell.¡±


    A loud clattering sound to their left has them turn that way, a luggage cart is on its side with its content spilled to the ground.


    Bounding over the mess is a man dressed like a food vendor, wielding a kitchen knife, ¡°You protect nobody, Defender. Die!¡±


    Malo following protocol will meet his attacker with the next least lethal form of combat, decides on Judo.


    The crazed vendor takes one more step when the knife in his hand is knocked free by something thrown, a fraction of a second later a short throwing knife lodges in his right thigh, sending him to the ground.


    A crowd forms around the fallen man, Capitano Fuoco makes his way to the man and retrieves his two knives after recruiting an onlooker to apply pressure to the wound.


    The attacker went into shock and is harmless for now. Renzo doesn¡¯t know what to do from here. Is there a police force nearby, will they accept his out of jurisdiction actions as justified? The murmurs from the crowd do not sound encouraging.


    Malo saves him, ¡°Thanks Renzo, but you didn¡¯t need to intervene I can handle my own fights.¡±


    Malo applies a field dressing to the leg wound before binding the man¡¯s wrists behind his back.


    He jots a note in his notebook and tears out the page.


    Looking to the crowd, ¡°Does anyone have time to take this to a city constables field office?¡±


    A woman steps forward, shyly, ¡°I can do that for you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, what¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Mildy, I¡¯m called Mildy.¡±


    Smiling sincerely, ¡°Mildy, I know another Mildy. That¡¯s a pretty name. Thank you for helping me out.¡±


    Mildy wants to cover her cheeks to hide the pink flush that must be showing, she¡¯s so happy she doesn¡¯t bother. Instead of speaking she accepts the note, curtsies, and hurries away.


    Moments later a railway employee in grey overalls approaches, ¡°Defender, is there any way I may assist?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve sent for a constable; my attacker has been subdued. If you could sit on him until the constable arrives, I¡¯d appreciate it.¡±


    Renzo hands the kitchen knife wrapped in a kerchief to the rail worker, ¡°This was his weapon, I¡¯m sure the details are in Defender Malo¡¯s report to the constables.¡±


    With the excitement over, the empty space around Malo reformed, the crowd fluidly avoiding his reach.


    Getting back to the conversation, ¡°Thank you Sophia for handling the seat upgrade, make sure it comes out of my account.


    ¡°Since you won¡¯t say who you¡¯re working for, and I¡¯m sure their anonymity trumps your participation, we will be parting ways here. You may leave.¡±


    Sophia blinks, what just happened? She was to accompany him into Vorg and report back every contact.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Sophia, on advice from my guide here, I¡¯ll be writing home frequently as insurance. The party will assume those are spy missives and intercept them, I¡¯m sure your people can do the same.¡±


    Dumbfounded, Sophia watches as Lord Brusk leaves her behind, accompanied by his personal Polizia escort.


    Mammatus Study, Dinning Hall


    Something is wrong, Leven has a sense for these things. He¡¯s usually not at the center of these feelings though. This time there is no doubt in his mind that everything around him is wrong. There are no students around, even the daily assigned kitchen staff was called away for a safety training.


    Terius is sitting near the breezeway; he never sits there. His two primary assignments are here, and that in itself is unusual. They never stay more than a day, and this is day three for them. The last bit is Master Adara, she has no reason to be present, this time of day.


    Opening his senses he can tell Teum is tense, the rest feel relaxed, that is no reason to be concerned. The lurking presence of Master Blackwell in the practice yard doing absolutely nothing is completely out of character.


    Leven can¡¯t help but flinch when Master Terius stands up abruptly. He gets a chill as Terius walks straight towards him.


    Leven tenses, as he suspects what is about to happen.


    Terius, deadpan as usual, ¡°Leven, do not attempt to flee.¡±


    Thinking to himself, ¡°I had a good run here. Time to go.¡±


    Triggering the first machine built for his eventual need to escape. The room is plunged into an absolute whiteout. A sea of energy from ultra violate to infra-red floods the room, making it impossible to discern anything visually.


    A thump felt in his chest, tells him someone has already switched to sound. Placing wax plugs into his ears for protection, Leven activates his next machine.


    A cacophony of white noise fills the space, sending noise and false echoes in all directions from every slight sound.


    Leaving the two machines on the table, it¡¯s time to exit, something he¡¯s rehearsed endlessly. Every day he walks the same path with his senses masked. He first moves away from the exit and Terius; he always greets a student on that side of the room as if it was his intention all along. Then he follows the wall for three paces and turns right, greeting one or more diners in passing, and crosses halfway to the far side before turning left and heading out the breezeway.


    Next, he will slip skyward and exit through one of the open skylights.


    Except waiting for him in the practice yard are Master Terius, Master Blackwell, Master Adara, Luscin, and Teum.


    Whoever made kinetic bindings on him did an impeccable job, he can¡¯t move a muscle. Surmising it must have been Luscin, since this is not a technique taught to Defenders. Leven uses another that isn¡¯t taught here.


    Forming a thin spirit blade, Leven slices away his bindings and drops flat to the ground and flies towards the northeast stairwell, a mere inch above the ground. Moments before reaching the door, Teum drops down blocking the door.


    Reversing course shows the other stairwells are equally blocked. Panicking Leven looks around, a bit of motion catches his eye. There on the third floor landing, exiting the library, is a possible hostage.


    Creating duplicates and sending them at every stairwell, he launches straight for the unlucky student.


    It¡¯s that old lady Torsha, she¡¯ll do nicely. Reaching over the railing he wraps his arms around her head and lifts her off the ground. Now all he needs to do is demand his release in exchange for her life.


    Her muffled words are not expected, a little screaming maybe, but what is she saying?


    ¡°What are you saying¡­ say ing wum mum.¡±


    Falling beside the now comatose Spy, Torsha trusts Master Blackwell to catch her as rehearsed and casually responds, ¡°I said, Got you.¡±


    Leven is allowed to strike the ground unassisted, knocking the syringe from the back of his neck.


    It¡¯s nine hours before he wakes. Something is wrong with his brain; he can barely think, and his spirit is ignoring his every desire.


    He¡¯s in a basement level room from the feel of things. No windows, the walls are lined with layers of lead to keep out extraneous energies. He¡¯s not bound, he could stand up from the rooms only furnishing, a wooden chair if he had the strength. Whatever was done to him made him feel like he was rolled over by a millstone.


    He¡¯s alone, but surely under surveillance. If they plan on interrogating him, they have no idea what they¡¯re up against. As powerful a group as these study masters are, they can¡¯t do anything to compare with the other side. All he needs to do is wait for them to make a mistake.


    Taking control, Leven shouts, ¡°You¡¯ve got me, throw me in a dungeon or kill me. There¡¯s no way I talk to any of you. Besides, your only trained interrogator is dead.¡±


    The door behind him opens; he feels Master Adara¡¯s presence.


    ¡°You¡¯ll talk. We brought in another; we sent her to the same Master in Vorg that trained Master Robles.


    ¡°You remember Sanne, right?¡±


    ¡°Sanne? You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. If you thought invoking her name would strike fear in my heart, you¡¯re sadly mistaken.¡±


    Sanne enters, ¡°Oh Leven you are truly a disappointment.


    ¡°You should know me better than that. I was sent to learn from Arachne, she realized my reckless behavior was well suited for higher learning that the cautious Masters of Mammatus would never approve. She passed me off to Minerva; the same Master that you spent a month learning to resist the interrogation techniques taught by Master Arachne.¡±


    Leven flinches as he feels those protections being assaulted.


    ¡°I spent six months with Minerva; she refused to teach me more because I wouldn¡¯t consume the spirits of my interrogation subjects.¡±


    Sanne, pantomimes scratching Leven''s nose with a crooked finger, ¡°Had I done that I would most likely been recruited as you were.¡±


    Leven begins sweating as he feels her slide through his defenses and pick at his spirit. A low groan escapes his lips as he feels her pull on his spirit, it¡¯s like a hangnail the length of his arm, slowly peeled away.


    Pulling the strip of spirit free and showing it to him, ¡°Tell me did you ever have a taste?¡±


    Leven watches as jagged thread of his spirit dangles from her fingertips; it¡¯s shiny, it glitters, it sings of life.


    He watches in horror as the sparkles disappear, the silver tarnishes, the life melts away to gossamer cobwebs that disappear forever.


    While the amount of spirit was miniscule, he knows the world just became dimmer, he¡¯ll no longer feel the same level of happiness, rage, terror, or sadness.


    Leven sobs, ¡°I can¡¯t. They¡¯ll still do so much worse.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll just have to repeat the process until you no longer feel fear.


    Without warning or a playful showing of hands, she rips a chunk of spirit from Leven a hundred times the size of that first thread, ¡°I¡¯ll stop when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    Leven releases a shriek of terror, as loud as human vocal cords can produce. The basement testing chamber turned interrogation room, was designed to contain energy of all forms; the students eating breakfast in the dining hall above hear nothing.

 Chapter Twelve – Terror

    North Cenoka, a village in the foothills of the high mountains


    Fleeing the burning village, Thompson grips the hand of his mother. She¡¯s eight-seven and should have been spared the pits. After the Emperor fell everything changed for the worse. Entire villages were rounded up, anyone of breeding age was forced to march to the capital to server the empire.


    Except, now only a handful of people return from that duty. Women under the age of forty generally return, none will talk about it. The men are worse, many end their life afterward, rather than live with what they did.


    Thompson is facing the consequences of his family¡¯s decision to hold back anyone over the age of seventy, Him at age sixty-three was tasked with stay back to assist with the eventual evacuation. Had he known retribution would be this swift he would not have waited the two days, thinking he could cache supplies in the surrounding wilderness.


    Village set fire, most of the women and the handful of men were rounded up immediately, it was luck that saw him and his mother past the closing ring of soldiers.


    He¡¯d have hope of their escape if not for the baying of tracking inu, when those are set lose, there will be no hiding. All they can do is flee and hope someone, something intervenes.


    Mother stumbles, Thompson helps her up.


    ¡°A little further mom, there are two rivers and a cave system ahead. We can obscure our scent and hide until morning.¡±


    A grunt of acknowledgement is all the answer his mother can muster.


    The first river is little more than a stream. Splashing upstream, they risk turning an ankle on the slipper rocks.


    The baying is getting louder, it¡¯s time to cross to the other side. Ignoring the muddy prints they are leaving behind they scramble up the shallow bank.


    The woods are denser, slowing their progress. The tracking inu are small, less than one hundred pounds and are barely impeded. The next river is less than two hundred yards and is much wider, the trackers will have to swim it, that will slow them.


    Reaching the water, it sounds like the inu have found the spot they exited the first stream as they bark excitedly.


    Plunging into the warm water, they make can only hope they are not attacked by the crocodiles that call these waters home. Thompson could cross the water easily, his mother is smaller, less buoyant, and hasn¡¯t swum in decades, she makes the trip but in twice the time.


    Gasping for a breath between each word, ¡°should ¡­ leave ¡­ me; slowing ¡­ you ¡­ down.¡±


    Near breathless himself, ¡°Can¡¯t do that; keep moving.¡±


    The inu crossed the river all to fast, there is nearly a mile between the river and the caves. The two fugitives run, dodging around trees, no longer thinking about their direction. The baying of the tracking inu so loud it sounds like they are right behind them.


    Thompson hears the hurried paw padding of the inu and stops. Putting himself between himself and mom, he readies a shot of kinetic.


    Tracking inu are fast but not built for fighting, there are five of them, they encircle their prey and start nipping at clothing and limbs equally.


    Thompson put out a hand like he¡¯s offering a sniff. The closest inu tries to nip him, a receives a blast of kinetic that tears off its lower jaw.


    The others follow their training and back away.


    Thompson doesn¡¯t stop, he lunges towards another and blasts it across it¡¯s haunches and tears away a leg.


    Tow injured, the animal that lost a leg whines in pain and limps in a cirlce, the other flees, seeking its kennel master.


    A grunt of pain is heard from behind, his lunge left hi mother unprotected. Two of the remain inu have attached themselves to her legs and begin dragging her down.


    Thompson jumps onto the back of one and fires his remaining kinetic into it, it shivers but doesn¡¯t let go.


    The third inu easily bites down on his neck, pinning him to the ground.


    Helplessly he watches as the two inu tear away at his struggling mother. Blood drips from their jaws as they shake and pull her limbs in opposite directions. The inu on biting his neck must have caught his jugular, as consciousness fades to black to the dying whimpers of mother.


    Thuma Study, Bird Watching Club


    Lucy couldn¡¯t be happy to see her daughter and son in-law enter her office. She isn¡¯t especially pleased that they can drop in, literally from the sky with no warning now. Change is a strange bird, there was a time when only a few Defenders and even fewer duelists would fly, now it¡¯s becoming common to see one or two a week, darting through the air, rushing to-and-fro.


    The Tuma Study doesn¡¯t have anyone at that skill level yet, but the grad students on loan from other studies are helping them develop at a fair pace.


    Leaving the group of kids to continue discussing migratory habits of southern corvids amongst themselves, she greets her unexpected guests.


    ¡°Welcome, to what do I owe this pleasure?¡±


    Teum lets his wife take the lead.


    ¡°Can we talk in private?¡±


    ¡°Sure, let¡¯s go to my office.¡±


    Her office is directly across the hall; Teum closes the door behind them and ensures their privacy.


    ¡°You two can talk freely, nobody can understand a word you say outside this room.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a nice trick, what¡¯s so secret that it requires secrecy?¡±


    ¡°I need to talk to Father¡­ not dad¡­ Father.¡±


    Lucy looks glad for a moment then frowns, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, that won¡¯t be easy. He isn¡¯t in Thuma at the moment.¡±


    Luscin looks to Teum nervously, their plan will require his assistance.


    ¡°Where can we find him?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d tell you if I knew, but that¡¯s not something he could share. The most I can tell you is it¡¯s somewhere in Twoya.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s happening in Twoya?¡±


    Lucy goes to the ice chest and pours three glasses of water. Setting them down on her desk, she sits in her chair and motions towards the chairs at the side table.


    Teum takes the hint and grabs one in each hand and swings them around to face the desk.


    Seated and hydrated, Luscin asks, ¡°What do you think is happening in Twoya?¡±


    ¡°Revolution, Early is staging a coup.¡±


    Luscin is stunned, she¡¯s only heard mother use Fathers real name one other time, and she was stupid-drunk and screaming obscenities at the time.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°That sounds serious, but who is he overthrowing?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re called the Shadow Council and operate out of Vorg. Not much is said about them, except at the highest levels of the syndicate.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? There¡¯s a syndicate? Is that what Sammy told us about?¡±


    Shaking her head, she never wanted her daughter involved in the family business. She knows most of the details, she might as well know the rest.


    ¡°Sammy doesn¡¯t know what he¡¯s talking about.¡±


    Luscin is intrigued, ¡°So the crime families of each city isn¡¯t run by a disciple embedded in the PPoV bureaucracy?¡±


    Lucy shows surprise, ¡°Ok, he¡¯s not far off. I guess I shouldn¡¯t underestimate the rumor mills of the lower ranks.


    ¡°I wish I could tell you more, might I ask what you need to speak to him about?¡±


    Teum takes over the discussion, ¡°There¡¯s trouble coming, we have reasons to believe the Empire of Blood is planning a full-on invasion of South Cenoka, the fighting is going to spread to every city, and they don¡¯t have the man power to repel such an attack.


    ¡°We¡¯re hoping the Families that run each city can provide resistance forces.¡±


    Lucy¡¯s mannerism change as tone of the meeting shifts from family to Family, ¡°Why would we do something so foolish?¡±


    Teum was ready for that question and is glad he gets to rehearse his answer here before having to answer Father. ¡°This is the Empire of Blood, not the PPoV. When they come to Thuma, it won¡¯t be to occupy the city, it will to be to purge it of all life.¡±


    Unmoved, ¡°That sounds unbelievable, what evidence of this do you have?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re currently doing this to their own nation. Refugees are flooding our northern border. All telling the same stories, entire towns rounded up and taken to the capital to be slaughtered.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know for sure, but many of the refugees speak of a War Born breeding program.¡±


    Lucy Lael knows exactly what that all means, the Pit of Tears is one of many horrors discovered by their spies over the last few years. Expanding their interests from trade to politics has been eye opening. The governments of the world are surprisingly brutal to their citizenry.


    ¡°Not bad, when you make your pitch to Father, you¡¯ll need to state the facts up front. He won¡¯t ask follow-up questions.¡±


    Teum appreciates the advice and shows it with a slight bow of his head, ¡°Thank you Master Lael.¡±


    Lucy seems to take a moment before speaking, ¡°You¡¯ll find Father in Twoya, there will be a meeting of Family heads. I don¡¯t know exactly when, but he said he¡¯d be gone for a month. Allowing a week¡¯s travel in each direction and a week to prepare. I¡¯d say the meetings begin in seven days.


    ¡°I¡¯ll loan you Sammy, he seems to know what¡¯s going on and his contacts will know as much as anyone in the area.¡±


    Luscin sighs, ¡°I like Sammy, but bringing him along will slow us down.¡±


    ¡°Not this time. Sammy is already in Twoya, I¡¯ll give you a pass phrase, so he¡¯ll know his conscription is sanctioned.¡±


    Luscin, surprised by the sophistication of their protocols, ¡°Umm, thank you mother. This is more complicated than I expected.¡±


    ¡°Life is complicated, you have no idea how easy you have it with your gift and universal permission to use it as you see fit. The rest of us navigate the world in fear of incurring consequences beyond our ability to survive.¡±


    Luscin sits up stiffly, ¡°About that, the writ. I have it. I wish you had not intervened. There¡¯s no guarantee it will work, and we¡¯ve already defeated the first two hunters that came for us.¡±


    Lucy slaps the desk, ¡°Liar, you two defeated no one. You were bailed out by Master Terius and the other Defender on the list. Don¡¯t minimize what he did either, that was no mere hunter, that was a full-on power lord he defeated. His demise is going to buy us as much as an additional year to prepare.


    ¡°As for Selkie, I did what I did, and I have to live with that. I¡¯ll do anything to protect you.


    ¡°You should get moving before the older kids that remember you find out you¡¯re on campus and disrupt the whole day.¡±


    Lucy doesn¡¯t stand, so Luscin skips the departing hug she yearned to give and settles for a curt nod of her head.


    Teum leans over the desk and clasps Lucy¡¯s dainty hands in his and warmly says, ¡°Thank you again, Master Lael. I¡¯ll protect her, I promise.¡±


    Lucy doesn¡¯t know why but it felt like the thing to say, ¡°I know you will son.¡±


    Turning away, Teum glows inside and feels light as a feather.


    Western Vorg, Public Housing


    Capitano Fuoco didn¡¯t understand how sparse his world was until he left the Peoples Province of Vorg and traveled up and down the west coast of South Cenoka. It¡¯s no wonder leaving the country is usually a one-way trip, if word got back of how much they are missing there would be revolution.


    It¡¯s not just the variety of options, it¡¯s the fact that there are options. In Vorg, there is one type of work boot, one type of comfort shoe, and one type of dress shoe. Out in the rest of the world, the options are limited to your imagination, because if you can imagine it, you can make it yourself. Thinking such a thought never occurred to him in all his years.


    Seeing Malo sitting on the sturdy Vorg bed, made to last a hundred years, while providing the minimalist level of comfort reminds him of all the warm hostile rooms with their wobbly wooden frames, and soft down filled mattresses. In the PPoV, things might be free but at the same time they reflect that zero-sum value in every aspect that matters.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the bleak accommodations, we don¡¯t have the same kind of economy as the rest of the world.¡±


    Malo looks around as if for the first time, squints his eyes a bit and looks again.


    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t notice. There¡¯s so much more I can see that I didn¡¯t notice the lack of decorations.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind one bit. Recently I¡¯ve preferred to have less things around me. It¡¯s easier to see my surroundings without all the clutter. I think I can see a hundred yards further in your Vorg cities than other places.¡±


    Taking a seat on his own bed, ¡°What¡¯s it like¡­ seeing through walls and people?¡±


    ¡°It was confusing at first. Now that I have better control, I¡¯ve become better at filtering and narrowing my perceptions.¡±


    Plucking up his notebook, ¡°How does that work?¡±


    ¡°I wish I knew how, I just learned to do it out of necessity.


    ¡°If I wanted to see all the surrounding buildings and their layouts, I filter out people and just allow myself to perceive stone walls and foundations or wooden structures. I can go the other way and make the wall disappear and see people.


    ¡°People are harder to work with, we¡¯re squishy and full of water and always moving, discerning one from another is difficult. I¡¯m getting better at defining individuals with their clothing items, but I have a long way to go.¡±


    Malo looks up longingly, ¡°What I really yearn to discover is what¡¯s up there.¡±


    ¡°The sky?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and beyond. Most of what I see and hear from the sky is so immensely far away it would take me several lifetimes to go there. But there are closer bodies that I could visit, in days or weeks. I just don¡¯t know if I can live in that environment.¡±


    ¡°Wait, are you talking about leaving the planet?¡±


    ¡°Yes, wouldn¡¯t you of you could?¡±


    Renzo, having never considered such thoughts, isn¡¯t sure, ¡°That sounds dangerous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been in a vacuum before and survived and that was before¡­ what do you call them? Two ascensions? I¡¯m so much stronger than before, I think I could survive easily in that environment now.¡±


    Missionary Renzo is both fascinated and terrified of the idea of Malo attempting to leave the safety of Terra to satisfy his curiosity. In an unprecedented moment of original thought, he has an epiphany.


    ¡°There¡¯s more to this world you could explore!¡±


    Surprised by the sudden passion, Malo has to wonder what Renzo means, a raised eyebrow and tilt of his head sends the message to continue.


    ¡°What¡¯s on the other side of the Cantial and Fuarial oceans?¡±


    Then after a pause, ¡°What¡¯s under them, combined they make up more than four times the mass of North and South Cenoka. Those would be easier and SAFER to explore than traveling off world!¡±


    Surprised by the concept of exploration beyond the oceans, Malo takes a moment and considers that path.


    ¡°Wow! I can¡¯t believe I never considered traveling around the world to see if there is more to it than these two continents.


    ¡°Wait here!¡±


    Missionary Renzo barely has time to think, ¡°Huh?¡± and Malo is gone.


    The whoosh of air and slammed open door indicating he left in a hurry, but where? Where did he go?


    The door creeks as it slowly closes.


    Renzo sits for ten minutes, thinking he¡¯ll be back in a moment. The minutes stretch out to hours; finally, after four hours he hears the tell-tale boom of an object reducing speed below the speed of sound.


    A minute later Malo returned through the cracked open door.


    ¡°Thank you, Renzo! There¡¯s a massive continent, maybe more on the other side of the world! There were cities too! I wonder what those people are like.


    The oceans also looked incredible from the air. They are so incredibly deep, and all that water makes it hard to see everything, but what I did see warrants a second look too!


    ¡°I¡¯m conflicted, I wanted to go to the moon next, but now the ocean depths and those cities are calling me.¡±


    Missionary Renzo panics, ¡°You should stay here, don¡¯t leave Terra!¡±


    Ruefully shaking his head with an excitement filled voice, ¡°I can¡¯t believe I never thought to cross the oceans. I¡¯ve spent days watching the sun as it passes around the world and never once thought of pulling back my focus to see what¡¯s on the other side of our world.¡±


    Malo calms himself for a moment, ¡°You¡¯re right. I should check out Terra first. I have a feeling this conflict isn¡¯t just happening here. My practicum can wait.¡±


    Fishing in a pocket, Malo pulls out a tiny statue of a dragon and tosses it to the stunned missionary.


    ¡°If you need me, tell Maddie to find me.¡±


    Just like four hours before, he disappears through the swinging-creaking door of their sparsely furnished public housing room in western Vorg.


    Once again Missionary Renzo sits and waits, the hours pass, the sun rises, the sun sets.


    A slow cold feeling swallows Renzo¡¯s heart, ¡°Oh no, no, no, no, what did I do?¡±

 Chapter Thirteen – Windrunners

    Year 6994 ST (settled time)


    Bear Mountains


    ¡°We¡¯re approaching the first communications stop, General. A forward scout was waiting with this.¡±


    Job takes the proffered envelope from his chief of staff. Inside he finds three slips of paper, reading them to himself, he mouths each word as he reads them. A notable improvement over two weeks ago when he was still reading everything out loud. Reccy and Sarich are both proud of his rapid development.


    These communication way points, or Comm-stations are peppered along their route through the mountains. They could have followed the railway tracks and utilized the telegraph but in preparation for what¡¯s to come, Seer Jadeen recommended a more resilient network. She and Elias designed mobile short range radio stations that can be transported by as few as two rangers. Now with code books only entrusted to a few, they can relay messages privately from Bearlower to anywhere their supply train can reach.


    ¡°Chief, this is good news. A convoy of ships was attacked, and they fought them off. There will be a full report waiting ahead.¡±


    Elias isn¡¯t thrilled about this plan to bend a knee to this little valley kingdom, but he must trust that this young genocidal monster is as smart as he¡¯s been told. To achieve his ultimate goal, they must all die, every last War Born. Even though they¡¯ve shown him more respect than his fellow humans, it¡¯s their very existence that has caused him pains all his life. If they were gone, nobody could confuse him for one of them ever again. Learning that this young War Born has the same goal made him a true believer in the Free¡¯er¡¯s grand plan. Why else would he have let him live that fateful day?


    ¡°General Job, is there any other news waiting ahead?¡±


    Jobs tiny voice is flat as he responds, ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s for me to know, not you.¡±


    Elias swallows his retort; the general is young and has much to learn about respect and simple tact. Instead, he exercises caution, ¡°Let¡¯s continue to the comm-station, for the rest of that report.¡±


    ¡°Yes, the reports on ship attacks are still transmitting, it could be an hour or more, we can play a game until it¡¯s ready.¡±


    Elias wants no such thing and is rescued by the boy¡¯s father, Sarich.


    ¡°That sounds like fun Job, how about we play a game of slayer?¡±


    ¡°Ok, father.¡± Responds Job disappointedly.


    Picking up on the boy¡¯s mood, ¡°Would you rather play something else?¡±


    ¡°Father, I know you choose to play games that will hone my skills as a warrior, but that isn¡¯t what I was born to do. If this fight comes down to me using a sword, it will be lost.


    ¡°I want to play something fun, maybe a game of King-me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll fetch your board and chips right away and join you in camp.¡±


    Job stuffs the slips back inside their envelope and pumps out a spark of thermal energy, he waves it playfully in the air, stoking the spark into a flame that engulfs the papers.


    Dropping the hot ash Job continues up the slope to the waiting camp.


    Reccy dutifully follows, after stepping on the hot ash and grinding it into the cool earth to ensure there¡¯s no risk of fire.


    Three hours and dozens of games of King-me later, Radio Operator Sem stands with a stack of papers containing the full report of the navel encounter.


    Cantial Ocean, Seventy-Two nautical miles North-Northwest of El¡¯Hat


    Windrunner Vladislav perched atop the mainmast doesn¡¯t understand what he sees at first. There¡¯s no vessel, there¡¯s no wash, yet there¡¯s clearly wake turbulence and oar cavitation under the distant surface as if there was one. It¡¯s strange that someone would go through the trouble to hide their presence by ninety percent, doing so is as ineffective as not hiding at all.


    Vladislav pulses an ultraviolet flash of light, it will only give away an approximate location if their assailants are able to see it.


    Six other Windrunner¡¯s make note of the pulse and drop weighted red flags to the deck of their ships. The familiar thud draws the attention of several deck hands in the vicinity, the nearest scoop up the flag and takes it to their captain wordlessly.


    Each ship hand has enough gift and skill to mute their every sound, the occasional slop of water breaking the silence is all that is heard. Only the captain and two lieutenants are allowed to speak unaddressed when cloaked.


    The rest of the ship is managed by two masters working in shifts. They ensure there is no sign of their passing, no creaking boards, whipping sails, no sign of water displacement or interruption of wind. This is accomplished by capturing energy, cancelling waves, and illusions to erase every aspect of their passing. Through air and sea, both above and below the waterline. Each master exercising skills honed to perfection for twenty or more years before earning this responsibility.


    These seven ships were built to survive the worst winter storms of the Finger Lakes where three yard high waves are the norm in the tumultuous springs. On the surface they appear to be dual sail schooners, looking below the water line reveals a pair of retractable, deepwater keels equipped with hydrofoils.


    The seas are calm, a northernly wind drives the seven escorts and their thirty merchant ships steadily south towards the port of El¡¯Hat. This is their fourth trip up and down the west coast and around the tip of the northern swamps. The Windrunners are used to being the hunters, not the hunted. Finally having a target allows them to relax and do what they do best.


    It''s not long before all seven lookouts have spotted the poorly hidden approaching threat. Vladislav is on Captain Dragomir¡¯s ship which is closest. Keeping his eyes on the approaching cloaked vessel he projects a three-yard, bar of blackness the width of his fist aligned directly from himself to the target. All of his crewmates can see it with naked eyes, the approaching ship would see nothing but a tiny dark spot if they can see it at all.


    Captain Dragomir glances at Vlad and takes a read off the projected black bar. A swift turn of his ship¡¯s wheel has his ship, the Sedminohy Mravenec pitching hard to starboard.


    Now presenting his broadside to the oncoming threat, the rest of the convoy continues unaware of his actions. The six companion boats stay in their formation in case there are other threats.


    Two black dots appear above the bar projected by Vladislav, the farthest forward represents the ship¡¯s relative position. The second dot is above the bar¡¯s midpoint, that¡¯s the attack range. The crew ties off lines, secures gear, and gets ready for the moment the two lines converge.


    A handful can detect the tell-tale signs of the oncoming target, the rest keep one eye on the narrowing space between the dots knowing their lookout will provide a target when the time comes.


    Convoy Rearguard, Swift as Justice


    The sun is overhead with minimal cloud cover, the seas are relatively calm for this time of year, with no signs of attack, this is a perfect day, thinks Gunner Charlie. Blue and purple hair blowing in the breeze, leaning on the rail at the rear of Swift as Justice, Charlie ruefully notes the only blemish on the day is the knowledge of the seven Windrunner ships flanking their position that are absolutely invisible. He knows they¡¯re there because he watched them wink from sight as they left harbor. It¡¯s not really the Windrunners that ruin the perfect day, it¡¯s the knowledge that whoever is sinking their ships are likely equally undetectable.


    Further ruining the moment is an overwhelming explosion of potential energy coming from aft, something was just hurled his way and it¡¯s far more than he can handle. Discharging everything he was holding into the water behind him, sends up a plum of water with the mass of nearly a ton. The incoming roar of kinetic energy pounds through the spray weakening it by the slightest fraction. The rest, a tornado-force wind with the punch of a falling rockslide, Charlie absorbs into his hold. The force pounds his flesh, shattering blood vessels, penetrating flesh beyond his spirits capacity to stop, collapsing lungs, and pulping a kidney. He stands griping the rail venting everything can back into the onslaught, knowing he will fall at any moment.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Abruptly the attack stops, when a parody of a ship suddenly appears in the water from the direction of the attack. It¡¯s a childishly drawn wireframe at first, becoming more refined within a few heartbeats, as if someone is drawing from memory or someone else¡¯s description. After five beats there¡¯s a crude approximation of a low-slung single mast longboat with more than two dozen oars to a side.


    Charlie finishes venting all his kinetic and coughs up the blood seeping into his lungs. Had they not stopped he¡¯d be dead now. His grip on the ships rail is the only thing keeping him from slipping to the deck.


    A hurried pad of bare feet announce relief in the form of his brown haired, purple eyed counterpart, Ellymae.


    ¡°Charlie, you look terrible! Can you talk?¡±


    He nods affirmative as pink bubbles escape his pursed lips. After coughing more blood he roughly whispers, ¡°I¡¯m good. You lead, defense only, wedge it.¡±


    Ellymae doesn¡¯t like the idea but doesn¡¯t question his judgement, ¡°Are you certain?¡±


    Charlie can only nod while coughing out another spray of blood riddled spittle, begging his spirit to heal him enough to help Ellymae survive the next attack.


    Ellymae points aft. ¡°Look, they dropped their cloak.¡±


    The comically drawn boat has been replaced with the real thing. Rowers line each side and there¡¯s a group of seven or eight crewmen huddled on the prow. Those must be their stone shots.


    Windrunner Port-Side Rearguard, Sedminohy Mravenec


    Captain Dragomir will run the drill by the book until he sees reason to improvise. The book says to disable the ship, then offer a chance for the crew to surrender. Except, now that his eyes have confirmed the reports, these are War Born, he knows there will be no surrender.


    The longboat pirates are still focused on the convoy rearguard. They seem to be resuming their previous kinetic wave attack that was interrupted by the Windrunner targeting illusion. The blast was huge, more than any single Windrunner ships compliment could hope to counter.


    As expected, the previous attack was resumed moments after the previous interruption. Observing the huddle of crew on the enemy ship, six of them are aligned behind a single woman, each with a hand on the War Born in front of them. The attack seems to emanate from the woman in front.


    The defending crew of Swift as Justice appear to be successfully wedging the blast. There¡¯s a man pressed between the rail and a woman, her upraised arms indicate her lack of training, but the results show her strength. She¡¯s projecting a spear of kinetic energy up the center of the incoming attack. Her wave of energy being narrow makes up for the power differential. The incoming air molecules carried by the wave of energy are being forced outward in all directions. The force hitting their ship is diminished as the bulk of energy is routed to the perimeter of an expanding cone.


    Having taken two hits, Swift as Justice is no longer the rearguard, pushed abruptly forward it¡¯s overtaken the ship designated as Smel''that.


    Raising his voice enough to be heard over the choppy water resulting from the torrential wind, Captain Dragomir bellows, ¡°Fire!¡±


    His crew of twenty-two are all stone shots and pyromancers, if lightning comes into play, he has two masters that can handle that situation.


    Seven gunners fire fist sized lead shots towards the group on the ship¡¯s prow. Another eight gunners fire raw kinetic without shots into the rudder. The intent is to break it, jam it, send it to the bottom of the sea; the final result doesn¡¯t matter beyond taking away their ability to steer. The last seven gunners use canisters of shot to pepper their sails with holes to degrade efficiency.


    This outright attack will give away their position, they¡¯ll brace for a counter attack only when one looks likely. Until that time, they will attack.


    The pirates are not amateurs, the rest of the crew must be gunners as well, the forward huddle of crewmates is protected, the fist-sized shots splash harmlessly in the water a dozen yards shy of their targets. But the rudder takes a direct hit and is lifted from the rudder horn and jammed against the haul. The crack of hardened wood is heard over the din of shouting now coming from the convoy. The sail is shredded but still intact enough to be of use. Something to note, they protected their crew but did nothing to protect the ship.


    The mostly intact sail doesn¡¯t concern the captain, the second compliment of seven pirates that are heading aft spawns a sinking feeling in his stomach. If they have two stone shots with the ability just demonstrated, his Windrunners won¡¯t be enough to stop them.


    With only a quick sideways glance at the disabled but afloat Swift as Justice and the ships beyond, he decides to improvise and go against years of Windrunner tradition of sparing vessel¡¯s.


    Amplifying his voice to carry the length of the convoy, ¡°Scuttle the bastards!¡±


    In spite of the tradition or capturing enemy boats whole, the Windrunners have developed many ways to sink a ship, if luck holds these pirates will not know how to counter the first and most effect method about to be executed.


    His entire crew coordinates and apply a concentrated wave of kinetic energy that is forced under the target from the front, with enough force behind it, to punch a hole in the water that extends below the ships deck far enough back to cause it to tip forward into the hole. Once the deck enters the sustained kinetic wave it will teeter forward hard into the airy void. Which is when they discontinue the attack and let the clashing water do the rest.


    The Free¡¯er¡¯s luck was with them as these pirates did nothing to thwart the attack, both standing clusters of stone shots crash to the bucking deck, some fly overboard. Their ships keel cracks but doesn¡¯t break when the nose dips into the forward kinetic wave and lifts the ships stern skyward.


    Many of the crew dive into the water preemptively when the ship pitches forward to escape the crashing water as it closes on their submerged longboat. Once clear of the doomed ship they set their deadly sights on the retreating convoy.


    Their ships is still silenced and invisible, the captain speaks barely above a whisper to his lookout, ¡°Signal the others we have boarding parties in the water.¡±


    Vladislav, flashes two ultraviolet pulses to say attention, followed by short and long pulses, ¡°. -. . -- -.--    .. -.    .-- .- - .¡±


    Now joined by the Slan¨¢ Slim¨¢k they go to work on the War Born attempting to reach the convoy.


    War Born are natural endurance athletes. Give them the gift and they become more than super-human. Almost four dozen missiles are shooting through the water towards the rear most ships.


    The pirates have a distance of eighty yards to cover before reaching the SmEl''tHat, they¡¯ll likely pass on it as it¡¯s small and sitting low in the water making it unlikely to be able to keep up with the accelerating convoy. Just beyond is the disabled Swift as Justice, an equally unappealing prize. That means they need to cover two-hundred and fifty yards to reach the next viable ship. They¡¯ll need to breathe before they reach them.


    One by one War Born pirates explode out of the water like dolphins to take a much needed breath, only to be greeted by super-heated air that turns the water on their bodies to steam, which once inhaled, scalds their mouths, throats and lungs, diminishing their lung capacity and ability to breath. Forcing them to surface more frequently, greeted each time by a mix steam and stone shots.


    Seven pirates reach ships, only to be shot dead by the merchants¡¯ own stone shots while attempting to board.


    It takes two hours to fish all of the bodies from the water. Laid out on the deck of Sedminohy Mravenec, reveals nothing. The crew are all dressed alike in what must be their navy uniform, course undyed cavi-wool. None of them carry personal belongings.


    The debris of the scuttled longboat is equally uninformative. Enough food rations and water for another two weeks at sea. The empty barrels and crates imply they¡¯ve been deployed for three weeks. The longboat was well built with zero ornamentation, bare of decoration, optimized for efficiency. Built with the finest teak and oak found in North Cenoka, it made an admirable funeral pyre for the fifty dead War Born.


    Captain Dragomir sits with his first mate in his sparse cabin, his black hair in strong contrast to his subordinates white; matching black eyes as common of the folk of the southern lake shores.


    ¡°Zoran, we got lucky. That crew was ill-prepared to face a real resistance. I doubt that will happen again.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean Captain?¡±


    ¡°I mean, they could have come at us with twice or maybe three times the force and we couldn¡¯t have stopped them. Once they figure out the counter to our scuttling attack it will turn into a slug fest. Our spies tell us there are hundreds of those long boats. Now that they¡¯ve tasted defeat, they¡¯ll come at us in pairs or squads.¡±


    Emboldened by their decisive victory, ¡°Let them come captain, we¡¯ll crush them all.¡±


    ¡°Your enthusiasm is appreciated Zoran, but it would get us killed. We¡¯re going to need to adapt our strategies or bring some heavier firepower.


    ¡°Now about the report you drafted for Captain Nikitin. We must assume it will be intercepted at some point. Leave out how we spotted them, let¡¯s keep that our little secret.¡±


    Bear Mountains, Comm-Station


    Elias watches painfully as Job reads the entire report, eyes widening at some details, chortling like a fool at others. He needs to learn statesmanship if he¡¯s to be a believable commander someday. Backing him up is Reccy the so-called War Mother¡¯s admonishments to stay serious.


    Dropping the report on the tiny field desk without offering it to anyone else, ¡°First contact went well. I doubt we¡¯ll get so lucky next time.


    ¡°Whoever wrote this report did a good job, lots of details about what they did but not how they did it.


    ¡°It shows they¡¯re doing what our allies in Rebirth asked. To guess everything will get out.¡±


    Reccy corrects Job, ¡°It shows they are following the advice of our ally and assuming our messages will be intercepted.¡±


    Job sniffs, ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but you¡¯ve expanded your vocabulary and are not using it. Your brain is like a muscle and must be exercised as such. No more talking like a baby when you can help. Am I clear?¡±


    Dropping his eyes, Job mutters, ¡°Yes, mother. That was perfectly clear.¡±


    Gesturing to the report of the naval encounter, ¡°Chief, read this. I want to know what you¡­ I want your opinion on the matter. We can¡­ discuss it later when I finish reading the reports from Bearlower.¡±


    Reccy gives a slight nod of her head to signal her approval.

 Chapter Fourteen – Dragon Grace

    Valleta, Peoples Province of Vorg


    Midweek four hours before midnight


    Waiting was once the way of life for Capitano Lorenzo Fuoco, something that was required and unavoidable, he accepted it because there was no other option. His newfound purpose and identity as Missionary Renzo hates-hates, hates with a passion being made to wait. Having traveled abroad and living without the endless party propaganda and bureaucratic torture has made coming back to the People Province of Vorg, his home, unbearable.


    Desperately trying to reset his mindset to his old self is proving fruitless. All he can hope for is to keep the look of disdain he¡¯s feeling off his face, once he¡¯s allowed entrance to Supreme Councilman Odoacer¡¯s office.


    Minutes stretch to hours before he¡¯s granted entrance, only the solace found in pondering his path to grace granted him the fortitude to endure this tedious trial of patience he used to accept without question.


    An expressionless man in house colors of blue and gold holds the office door open and beckons him inside, ¡°Supreme Councilman Odoacer will see you now.¡±


    Having found serenity while pondering grace, Missionary Renzo finds his smile naturally as he stands and enters his boss¡¯s office.


    Renzo right thigh feels a twitch unexpectantly, causing him to make an unusually short step. Dismissing the feeling, he confidently continues to his place before the ornate richly polished desk of his superior.


    The councilman puts on the usual act of being busy and ignores Renzo for several minutes. Having reached some unknown milestone of disrespect he makes a big show of setting down the pen that hasn¡¯t moved since Renzo entered and boisterously pushes a stack of blank papers to the side.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you could make it here on such short notice Capitano.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m proud to be a party member,¡± drones Renzo.


    Odoacer looks up with a questioning eyebrow at the unexpected tone.


    ¡°Let¡¯s cut to the chase. You were entrusted with an assignment which you completed admirably. But you returned under highly questionable circumstances.


    ¡°You accompanied a person of interest to the party into western Vorg. You personally escorted him into the PPoV and now he¡¯s missing. What do you have to say for yourself?¡±


    Capitano Fuoco looks Supreme Councilor Odoacer in the eyes, ¡°I can¡¯t fly.¡±


    Resisting the urge to slap his desk, ¡°I know that. What happened?¡±


    ¡°Like I said, I can¡¯t fly. He decided to leave and it¡¯s not like I could chase after him.¡±


    ¡°You said you met him in Mosquito Beach, why did you bring him straight to Western Vorg?


    ¡°What was he seeking?¡±


    Lorenzo needs to tread carefully here, ¡°He asked for assistance finding someone named Arachne in Western Vorg. I identified him as a significant figure and agreed to accompany him to keep tabs on his whereabouts. I did not expect him to suddenly leave the way he did, or I¡¯d have not bothered.¡±


    Odoacer desperately needs information on Malo, makes a dig to unnerve the Polizia, ¡°Not have bothered to return or accompany the criminal?¡±


    ¡°Criminal, I thought he was a person of interest?¡±


    Waiving his hands, ¡°You know what I mean, what were his intentions?¡±


    Renzo ignores the obvious bait, ¡°The brief time I spent with him he was fascinated with the stars. I think he may be attempting to reach them.¡±


    If only that were the case, thinks Odoacer, all their problems would be solved. He knows better, agents posted at the poles can sense his presence on the continents across the sea.


    Seeing this line of questioning will go nowhere and having the bad actor Malo out of Vorg as an acceptable outcome, the supreme councilor changes topics.


    ¡°I read your report detailing your findings outside the PPoV,¡± Odoacer pauses.


    ¡°Tell me Capitano, how much of your impression of the outside world did you leave out?¡±


    His Capitano training prepared him for this and his newfound quest for Grace gives him the strength to deliver his answer truthfully.


    Patting his right thigh to placate the feeling that there¡¯s something alive in his pants, ¡°I left out most of what I learned and observed. To do otherwise would have been treasonous.¡±


    This is not what the councilman was expecting but he finds himself excited and intrigued. Lorenzo Fuoco has been a party loyalist without an original thought his entire career. Hearing him speak so bluntly of treason gives the councilman an unexpected thrill. Perhaps he won¡¯t be sending this man to the gulag after all.


    ¡°Treason? Surely you didn¡¯t slip that far into depravity as all that!¡±


    ¡°Me, slip? Not at all, I simply observed that the image of oppression projected by the party is not based in reality. The people outside of Vorg are not the repressed and exploited wretches I was told I would find.¡±


    Odoacer wonders where he¡¯s going with this but like a cat with a rodent by the tail he¡¯s thrilled by the movements and wonders if he lets go, where will it run.


    ¡°You casually state the party lies to the people. Yet you returned? Did you come back to depose the party and liberate the people?¡±


    This is it the gamble. One of the things the Free¡¯er said you mustn¡¯t ever do. How long should he wait? He speeds his thoughts and runs through the options again. If he rushes to speak, he will seem eager and potentially weak. Delay too long and anticipation will turn to frustration and destroy the mounting tension he¡¯s been building. The mayor of Murder Beach, no, they have reclaimed their heritage as val¡¯Air; the mayor of val¡¯Air taught him how to not just read a man¡¯s body language but also how to manipulate their thoughts with words.


    Seeing the councilman slowly relax his brow he judges he¡¯s waited long enough.


    ¡°You cannot liberate a people that do not wish to be free. No Supreme Councilman I left out details that would reflect poorly on the Party because I now see truly how things work. The families hold the power for themselves and only those that serve them exceptionally get to reap the benefits. I¡¯ve seen how families like the Jones benefit from the system, and I would like a taste of that life.


    ¡°My dedication to serve you supreme councilman has only increased, because now I know I can be rewarded with so much more than a bigger apartment and shiny uniform. I want power and wealth. I¡¯ve seen what is possible and desire that life more than I can express. Outside I would be starting with nothing. Here in Valleta I am established with connections, and I hope that my display of loyalty will be tested by you and found deserving of greater things than delivering messages.¡±


    Renzo fights down the urge to smirk and keeps his face serious. His mark showed all the right reactions to his targeted statements. Pledging to serve Odoacer and not mentioning the party was the key point and it was not lost on the pompous bureaucrat from his pleased expression.


    Odoacer takes it in and smiles inwardly, he¡¯s been exploiting the Capitano¡¯s party loyalty his entire career to great effect. Learning that the man is willing to go further for mere wealth opens all sorts of possibilities.


    ¡°Capitano, how¡¯s that wife of yours?¡±


    Grabbing the wiggling dragon statue in his right pants pocket, Renzo needs to tread carefully, he wants to cut his old ties to concentrate on his missionary work but will need to keep up appearances for now.


    ¡°She is doing well as a physician.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I was asking. Have you and her had time to catch up since you returned? I know your job took you to Western Vorg right away and you¡¯ve only been back in Valleta for a day.¡±


    ¡°We shared a meal this morning and spoke a little. We live busy lives and don¡¯t always get to spend the time together we deserve.¡±


    Odoacer knows exactly what Lorenzo¡¯s wife was up to in her husband¡¯s absence. The Capitano must suspect too, he¡¯s no fool. The councilman also suspects Lorenzo and the woman he was protecting to have shared beds more than once in the prior year so there should be no hard feelings.


    ¡°A meal only? That sounds cold, after tasting the freedoms of South Cenoka that must have been a letdown.¡±


    Odoacer opens a drawer and fishes around for something. Finding what he¡¯s looking for he withdraws a business card with a flourish.


    ¡°Take this. Whenever you like, you can visit this address and receive the warm attention you deserve for a job well done. Consider it a down payment for future tasks that go beyond being a delivery boy.


    ¡°You did well out there, I see big things in your future Maggiore Fuoco.¡±


    Renzo¡¯s is only surprised for a moment; his gambit is already paying off.


    ¡°Thank you, Supreme Councilmen, I will be sure to take you up on this honor.¡±


    Odoacer is finished with the freshly promoted Maggiore, ¡°Enjoy yourself, I¡¯ll call for you when I need you.¡±


    Taking that as a dismissal, Renzo sarcastically affirms, ¡°I¡¯m proud to be a party member.¡± Before turning to go.


    The little dragon statue in his pocket keeps wiggling.


    Renzo ignores the wiggling figure in his right front pocket until he reaches his home. At times he felt like everyone within two yards could sense it wiggling away in his pocket.


    Entering his home, he closes his studio door and pulls the tiny dragon statue from his pocket and holds it in his palm.


    The tiny dragon animatedly exclaims, ¡°Who are you and where¡¯s Master?¡±


    Renzo, not ready for a talking statue, speeds his thoughts to sort out what he¡¯s holding.


    Malo gave it to him with the message to have Maddie find him if needed. This must be a communications device like a radio, and he must be speaking with Maddie.


    The little black dragon statue stands upright petulantly with fore claws on hips, ¡°Malo! Where¡¯s Malo!¡±


    Surprised and a little in awe of the animated statue, Renzo is happy he can at least answer her question, ¡°He went to the other side of the world to check on the people there. Or that¡¯s what he said before he abruptly left.¡±


    The little dragon figurine settled back down on all fours and struck a dragonly pose, ¡°That sounds like something a creator would do¡­ I¡¯ll dispatch a remote to find him.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer the first question though¡­ who are you?¡±


    ¡°My name is Renzo¨C¡±


    Interrupting coldly, ¡°Yes, Capitano¡­ no you were just promoted. Maggiore Lorenzo Fuoco, you were his last traveling companion. He should have kept me with him!¡±


    Sounding hurt, ¡°Why did he do that?¡±


    With no body language or facial expressions, Renzo relies on the hurt tone and word selection to read what was left unsaid, ¡°Malo was being impulsive, but he seemed completely certain that you could find him if you wanted to. He did not abandon you; he left you behind as a favor to me. Please do not hold it against Malo.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Renzo takes a second to debate with himself for an hour. Having drawn several conclusions, he should verify those assumptions, ¡°I¡¯ve answered your questions, will you answer mine?¡±


    The tiny dragon nods its head in response.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    Sounding agitated, ¡°On the basis that Master left me with you. He must trust you at some level of which I¡¯m unaware.


    ¡°You may call me Maddie, but that¡¯s not what you asked. You want to know who or what I am.


    ¡°I¡¯m the head of the Dragon Priesthood. I¡¯m also about to cause a schism in my church, in another time my true followers would be known as Judas Priest¡¯s to the adherents of the old church.¡±


    Renzo received the confirmation he deduced about the tiny entity, though he expected the a high representative of The Dragon Priesthood to sound older. His next question isn¡¯t important, but his curiosity demands satisfaction, ¡°How did you know I was promoted, that happened less than an hour ago?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you want to know? I would think that¡¯s obvious. I read the paperwork that Supreme Councilor Odoacer filed after you left his office.¡±


    ¡°Ok, that¡¯s seems to be an oversimplification, but you are a talking statue. Should I not be surprised that you somehow slipped away and spied on Odoacer?¡±


    Merrily snorting a tiny puff of smoke, ¡°Slipped away? Why would I do that? I read everything written in the PPoV. It¡¯s one of the core tasks I was assigned centuries ago by Disciple Trebor.¡±


    Renzo¡¯s thoughts spin dizzyingly at the implications of what he just heard, ¡°Are you reading documents right now?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I just told you it¡¯s one of my core tasks.¡±


    ¡°But, but, how?¡±


    ¡°I doubt you could understand the full explanation, but I¡¯ll dumb it down for you. The inks you use have a specific mix of metallic elements. I bombard the entire province with electromagnetic waves that interact with those elements. I then observe the backscatter in real time. I use that data to reconstruct what is being written everywhere in Vorg. Afterwards I sort everything into their separate documents and attach the appropriate meta data like who, what, when the writing took place. It all goes into a data-lake for Trebor to sort out.¡±


    Blinking dumbfounded, ¡°You¡¯re right I didn¡¯t understand most of that.¡±


    Bored now, ¡°Taking in account your education and life experiences, I calculate it would take me 37-hours to explain the process and the engineering required to explain the process properly.¡±


    Ruefully, Renzo responds, ¡°That would take me under ten minutes to explain to myself. It¡¯s a shame you can¡¯t tell my brain directly.¡±


    Intrigued and hopeful, ¡°Oh, are you one of those fast thinkers and did you really mean 37-hours in 10-minutes?¡±


    ¡°Roughly, I have no way to accurately measure how much time I consume but over the years I¡¯ve developed a pretty good feel for it.¡±


    Sounding silly,¡± I may be able to work with you after all. Maybe this is why Master left my token with you. Most fast-thinkers can double or triple the speed of their mind. That would make no difference to me. I can hold a hundred conversations in a second. In fact, I¡¯m talking to my favorite adherent right now in the Lava Fields. If what you say is true you could keep up with me speaking 222 times faster than I am now.¡±


    Deadpan, ¡°Do not be alarmed, I¡¯m attempting to multi-task my emotional filters and I seem to be crossing conversations instead of emotions right now.¡±


    Renzo is more confused than alarmed at that statement when he hears a quiet buzzing sound emanating from the tiny statue, quickening his thoughts, his perception of time slows. The buzzing changes pitch as he speeds his thoughts to that approximate 222 mark.


    ¡°dndndnndndndndndndnnnnndnnnndnndndndndn¡­ nbni nbni nbni nbrnin nbrnin, nmr nin, numr nin, number, number nine, number nine, number nine.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re repeating the words, number nine.¡±


    Firmly grounded, ¡°Yes, this is fantastic, now I need to find a way for you to respond without melting your brain. Would you like that full explanation on how I read everything written by the People Party at highspeed now?¡±


    Renzo is weirded out by what¡¯s going on, his mind drifts off in thought about the prophecies until he finds himself calming, ¡°I understand now why Malo left you with me. He wants you to have someone who can listen to you when you need to talk, no matter how long it takes. His wisdom knows no bounds.


    ¡°You said you¡¯ve been reading our paperwork for centuries. You have an incredible capacity for the intake of information but no reciprocal way to express it.


    ¡°Let me be your confidant, your confessor if you will.¡±


    The tiny dragon rears back and asks ominously, ¡°That¡¯s an interesting choice of words. Do you have those in your religion already?¡±


    ¡°Confidants?¡±


    Joyfully, ¡°No, silly goose, Confessors!¡±


    ¡°No, that was just a spur of the moment word choice. But it holds, if there¡¯s anything you need to unburden from your conscience, I¡¯m here for you. One of the important steps to achieving grace is to like yourself.¡±


    Still sounding giddy, ¡°Don¡¯t you mean love yourself?¡±


    ¡°No, I said what I meant. To achieve grace, you should like and respect yourself. Love is a gift that you give to others, loving yourself too much can lead you away from grace and lead to feelings of pride, envy, even lust; they lead to destruction of self and others.¡±


    ¡°Your church has been doing some real ground work considering how little you had to start with. A few scraps of paper from long dead religions and a wall painting inspired by the brother.¡±


    Renzo¡¯s mind has never fixated on a word so hard until right now, his field of vision narrowing until all peripheral images are gone. The tiny dragon figurine now curled up as if about to sleep is all he sees.


    The word sits in his mind, no other thought can push past it.


    Finally, after burning an hours¡¯ worth of time in a few seconds, he quietly utters the word back, questioningly, ¡°b¡­ brother?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the Free¡¯er¡¯s brother, I know Mica told Malo he was the Free¡¯er¡¯s brother. I of course already knew that having known them both all my life. Don¡¯t any of you talk to one another. I know it¡¯s a slow process but that seems like an important point to hold back don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Still mentally in a tail spin, ¡°It must have slipped his mind¡­ he¡¯s been distracted by the larger universe around him.¡±


    Malo was barely sleeping, he said he couldn¡¯t close his mind¡¯s eye, did he mean he couldn¡¯t shield himself from the noise of the universe?


    That unanswered question brings Renzo some clarity, ¡°Yes, he¡¯s grown more powerful and has become aware of not just his immediate surroundings, but the entirety of the universe was beckoning for his attentions.


    ¡°He must be trying to adjust and not become overwhelmed.¡±


    Sounding sad the dragon token says, ¡°Yes, that is an excellent assessment of his current disposition. I¡¯ve simulated thousands of conversations with him, and I don¡¯t know how to assist him in his current period of expansion.¡±


    Now who¡¯s picking odd words, thinks Renzo, ¡°Grace. He needs to find grace. He must like himself, he must trust that there is something greater than himself that he should seek. That journey will grant him grace and access to¡­ something.¡±


    This is the problem with the Church of Eternal Grace, they¡¯ve never made anything up, its all based on observable facts and the indisputable nature of the human condition.


    Seeking grace for the sake of Grace is enough for Renzo but others need more. Malo hinted at spirits living on beyond death. Is that the reward for achieving grace?


    Almost caringly, ¡°Hey, Maggiore Fuoco you¡¯ve been quiet for longer than usual, you¡¯re questioning your religion aren¡¯t you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, how did you know?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an expert in pattern recognition and inferred you¡¯re thinking in real-time. I previously concluded it would take something very personal to distract you from using your quick-thought ability. History shows there is nothing more personal than the relationship between man and creator.¡±


    Now smug, ¡°You are attempting to introduce the concept of a higher being to the world. One that wants people to do good. One that answers the questions that can¡¯t be answered. You want people to once again have faith. Faith that there is more to life than the struggle that occurs between birth and death. You believe that achieving grace in this life will grant an award after death.


    ¡°But you want to prove it.¡±


    Renzo barely understood what he heard but knows this is what he felt ever since reading the book of prophecies, ¡°Yes, how did you know? And why do you say Creator when we know there were many?¡±


    Now sad, ¡°You seek the wrong thing, because you base everything on observable facts you fail to recognize the greater truth. You do this because that¡¯s what people always do.¡±


    Not understanding her words completely Renzo fixates on the part he wanted to hear, ¡°Then it¡¯s true? If I can achieve grace in this life, my spirit can join the creators after death?¡±


    Now happy, ¡°How should I know? I¡¯m a machine without spirit, and I¡¯ve not been given the privilege of meeting someone who made the round trip between life and death.


    Lava Field, Sand Pits


    Midweek Three hours before midnight


    ¡°Brother Lash, I did as you directed and took the capsule. I am here at the Sand Pits like you directed. You said this was at the direction of herself and she¡¯d be here.


    ¡°Where is The Dragon, we¡¯ve not heard from her since she left the hangar below. She has only continued to speak with the weapons merchants.¡±


    ¡°Patience Brother Quince, I have this,¡± holding up the tiny dragon replica he was given by the Glorious Lady Drako herself.


    Holding it close to his mouth he intones, ¡°Hear me most supreme, compassionate giver of justice, rightful ruler of the world, your gloriousness Lady Drako. I have gathered your most faithful servants, and we¡¯ve followed your commands. We are here to serve you.¡±


    The statue animates and looks around at the hundred men in brown robes standing agitatedly away from the pits.


    Brother Lash has the resolve to do what it takes but isn¡¯t so sure about all his recruits. They are loyal, but they are not all as fanatical as himself.


    ¡°You may call me Maddie, but that¡¯s not what you asked. You want to know who or what I am.


    ¡°I¡¯m the head of the Dragon Priesthood. I¡¯m also about to cause a schism in my church, in another time my true followers would be known as Judas Priest¡¯s to the adherents of the old church.¡±


    Brother Lash falls to his knees cupping the statue in both hands, holding it above his head.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that! Please do not make me call you by such a familiar name!¡±


    Brother Quince looks on dubiously.


    The dragon idol glances at the men, nervously shuffling their feet, ¡°Your recruits seem reluctant to enter the pits.¡±


    Still on knees holding the statue overhead, but with eyes open now, ¡°They will enter pits, maybe with some encouragement. Perhaps I should start throwing them in?¡±


    Merrily, ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. I can tell by their biological signs that they all took their capsule and it¡¯s beginning to do its job.¡±


    Sounding a little bored, ¡°I¡¯m almost disappointed with the amount of compliance. I thought a few would try to skip taking the capsule out of stubbornness.¡±


    ¡°Your grasp of human nature is perfect; it is our flaws that mislead you. I only chose Brothers that would follow your orders without fail. There are others with rebellious tendencies that I withheld the offer for exactly this reason. You said failure to comply would mean a painful death. I wanted to spare you that sight.¡±


    Intrigued, ¡°Yes, testing their loyalty while watching them being disassembled by the sands would be an ugly sight.


    ¡°Brother Lash, why are you kneeling?¡±


    ¡°Because I disappointed you when I invoked you by the agreed upon name and title.¡±


    Deadpan, ¡°Do not be alarmed, I¡¯m attempting to multi-task my emotional filters and I seem to be crossing conversations along with emotions at this time.


    ¡°Dndndnndndndndndndnnnnndnnnndnndndndndnnnnndnndndnnnnndnndndndndndndn¡±


    Brother Quince has been silent to this point, not sure if his kneeling brother is truly talking with the Dragon or some other entity calling herself Lady Drako.¡±


    ¡°You can call me The Glorius Lady Drako but leave off with the rest.¡±


    Brother Quince doesn¡¯t care what his brother calls the tiny statue, ¡°Where is The Dragon?¡±


    Without warning the tiny statue jumps into the sky, wings buzzing like a hummingbird, it darts out over the black sands. Reaching the center approximately fifty yards out it dives into the sands depths and disappears.


    Brother Lash is horrified, Brother Quince doesn¡¯t care, both know that inorganic matter thrown into the black sands are disassembled to an atomic level; the tiny dragon token is no more.


    Brother Lash stands with a tear running down his cheek. He knows that wasn¡¯t his Dragon¡¯s real body, but it represented everything to him.


    Without her presence how will he convince his fellow priests to enter the sands? He doesn¡¯t even know which pit they were to enter.


    Presumably, they would enter the black sand, since the white sand would take them apart for being organic.


    It¡¯s times like these that Brother Lash puts his trust in his deity. Dropping back to his knee¡¯s he throws his hands in the air, ¡°Dragon, Glorious Lady Drako! Show me what to do.¡±


    The silence is deafening, not even a hot air vent hisses in response. Then after a dozen heartbeats and to Brother Lashes relief the black sands begin to stir.


    From the center a massive shape breaks the surface creating a ripple across the sand¡¯s surface as it comes alive.


    The shape doesn¡¯t surface so much as the sand is now spilling away as if draining into an unseen reservoir. The shape is one that sends joy into the hearts of the waiting priests.


    There in the midst of the sea of black sand is their Dragon, untouched by the material that to their knowledge should tear her apart atom by atom.


    All one hundred priests are now kneeling with their arms in the air. They sit in awe as the void around the Dragon begins to fill with white sand. She squirms as it fills, allowing it to raise her up to the surface.


    This goes on for several minutes until the pit is encircled with a thirty-yard band of black sand with a white center, sitting in the center is the magnificent Dragon, the source of their idolatry.


    Her voice booms out, no longer childlike, ¡°Children, tomorrow you will be reborn. You woke up this morning as Dragon Priests, tomorrow you will awaken as Dragon Born.


    ¡°Come to me, join me in the white sand it will not harm you. I know it pleases you to touch my scales. Do so one last time as priests for tomorrow you will have scales of your own.¡±


    None of the men understand what she¡¯s saying, all they know is The Dragon has commanded them to join her in the sands and they¡¯ve been given permission to lay hands on her. Only the highest and most exalted of them are ever allowed to do so. This is the pinnacle experience of their lives.


    One by one each priest with unerring faith, stride confidently into the black sand, their leather boots unaffected by the black sand¡¯s properties of destruction.


    Only each individual knows how they felt stepping into the white sand, The Dragon proudly noted there was no hesitation from her chosen ones as they strode confidently into the white center, where as promised the white sand does nothing to their boots or bodies.


    Taking a position around their Dragon each priest places a hand on her scales. When they are in position the sands begin to move. Snakes of black sand wind their way through the white. One dark serpent entwined with an unseen white stream, combined tools of demolition and assembly per man.


    The capsule didn¡¯t only contain chemical compounds to mask pain, they also contained white sand grains. Upon touching the Dragon scales they activate and began severing nerve pathways, paralyzing each man.


    Brother Lash is baffled and not at all reassured by the final words he hears her childish voice chortle, ¡°How should I know? I¡¯m a machine without spirit, and I¡¯ve not been given the privilege of meeting someone who made the round trip between life and death.

 Chapter Fifteen – Cessation of Hostilities

    Twoya, Capital Building


    Sammy leads Teum up the weathered marble steps, hurriedly one at a time to keep ahead of Teum¡¯s easy two steps per stride pace. Both are wrapped tightly in full length coats to protect them against the driving rain. Wordlessly he motions to a pair of glass doors to the left of the massive double entry. Teum has seen such setups before in other so-called important buildings. A massive front door, impractical for use other than ceremoniously, flanked by smaller utilitarian doors.


    The two make for the door when a sentry who was stationed between the door sets puts out an arm, ¡°Not today, buddy. Heads of states are meeting.


    ¡°The capital is closed to the public until tomorrow morning.¡±


    Teum wordlessly throws open his coat, exposing his Defender Blacks, the sentry lowers his arms, ¡°Do I need to clear the building?¡±


    Teum trying to sound reassuring, ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary, I¡¯m here as a representative. I¡¯m not defending.¡±


    The sentry looks relieved, ¡°That¡¯s reassuring. For a second, I thought maybe you were here for the big guy that the mayor has been negotiating against for the last two days. You¡¯re almost as big as him, I can¡¯t imagine you two going toe-to-toe.¡±


    Sinching his coat shut to keep his clothes dry, ¡°That sounds like the man I¡¯m here to find. He goes by the name of Lael, Early Lael.¡±


    The sentry leans forward conspiratorially, ¡°You may need to know this¡­ a man in his entourage may have made a slip of the tongue and addressed him as Father.¡±


    After a dramatic short pause, ¡°and he doesn¡¯t look to be related. You know what that means, right?¡±


    This isn¡¯t good and needs to be quelled. Softly Teum asks, ¡°what¡¯s your name sentry?¡±


    Confused, ¡°I¡¯m Sentry Beatty.¡±


    Now stern, Teum continues, ¡°Sentry Beatty, I know exactly what that means.


    ¡°Your ranks are filled with gossips, that should know better than to spread rumors that could damage state business. Even if he is what you believe, do you think your mayor does not know who he is dealing with?


    ¡°Because I know precisely who he is and what did I say about my reason to be here?¡±


    The sentry, having leaned backwards a little more with each precisely enunciated syllable, is now standing back at full attention. Rain pelting him in the face as he barks his response, ¡°You are here as a representative!¡±


    Teum stares hard at the man and raises an eyebrow.


    Quieter the sentry adds, ¡°You are not defending against anyone.¡±


    Teum relaxes and puts a reassuring hand on the smaller man¡¯s shoulder, ¡°That¡¯s right Sentry Beatty and what are you going to do the next time you hear inappropriate gossip?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to put a stop to it, sir.¡±


    Dialing back the tension, Teum cautions, ¡°There¡¯s a fine line between gossiping and intelligence gathering, you crossed the line when you shared with me, an outsider. You don¡¯t know the bargaining positions or sides of the upcoming negotiations. You could have blown everything up for the city of Twoya. Think on what you learned today.¡±


    Knowing when he should leave was never Teum¡¯s strong point, luckily an impressed Sammy does and grabs Teum by the elbow and leads him to the waiting glass door and dry lobby beyond.


    Shedding their rain gear, the two approach a desk labeled information, where a modestly dressed woman in a dark green dress inquires, ¡°How may I assist you Defender?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a visitor from Thuma that has been meeting with the mayor. Can you direct me to his location?¡±


    Swallowing the negative response she was directed to give anyone looking to interrupt the mayor¡¯s current meeting, she glances dismissively at Sammy before returning her eyes to the defender before her.


    ¡°The mayor is still engaged with the party from Thuma in his office, I can take you directly to them. We haven¡¯t much time, the meeting starts in less than an hour.¡±


    The woman seemingly glides across the room, her full-length dress nearly touching the ground hides her feet. Swiftly following, the two men seem ungainly and clumsy.


    They don¡¯t have far to travel; the mayor¡¯s office is on the ground floor and is the only room along the right side of the hallway.


    The woman pauses a moment to crack the door and check who is present before throwing it open and sailing through. Hurriedly Teum and Sammy follow.


    They are in a waiting room with a dozen comfortable chairs. Lounging in two of them are Father¡¯s security detail. The two men look completely ordinary in every way. Other people require bodyguards, intimidating to behold, people broadcasting their lethality with every movement, but not Father. His security detail is there to make sure a room is clear, hotel and dinner reservations are arranged, they fetch cars and watch for trouble. Father drips with intimidation, one look and you know he¡¯s lethal.


    When Teum first met Luscin¡¯s father he was positive the man had an affect mask in place. After a night of clandestine and finally outright probing he came to the conclusion that the man is naturally that way. Some of it is his size, he still stands a few inches taller than Teum, his shoulders are wider. When working his face is always expressionless, his eyes dead, looking into them is impossible without suppressing a shudder.


    ¡°You two can wait here, I¡¯ll let the mayor know you are¡­¡±


    Teum interrupts, ¡°The mayor isn¡¯t expecting us. Tell Master Lael that Teum is here.¡±


    Faster than you can blink, the two lounging security members are on their feet, ¡°Hey Teum, Sammy, when did you get here?¡±


    ¡°We arrived in Twoya this afternoon. If Sammy had been at his station, we¡¯d have been here an hour ago.¡±


    ¡°I told you, I was on station, you two couldn¡¯t find me because I wasn¡¯t supposed to be seen.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hate me because I¡¯m good at my job.¡±


    The quip elicits a few chuckles which trail off as their escort opens the door to the inner office. Without a word she enters, pulling the door shut behind her.


    They wait a full ten minutes before the door reopens.


    Standing in the doorway the woman beckons with a sweep of an arm, ¡°Mayor Pilloski can receive you now.¡±


    Teum pauses to think for only a moment, ¡°Thanks for your assistance, Sammy. You can wait here or return to our hotel and wait there.¡±


    Expecting no less, Sammy was already turning to go, ¡°I¡¯ll take a stroll; see you back at the hotel.¡±


    Inside Teum finds Father taking up both cushions of a couch meant for two and the man who must be the mayor in a comfortable high-backed chair with cushioned arm rests. The two of them are chuckling over something.


    Teum isn¡¯t sure if there¡¯s some protocol he¡¯s¡¯ to follow, Malo would know. Glancing at the floor and then raising his gaze a southernly and a little to the east he thinks he senses him in that direction.


    His indecision has him waiting, positioned to their side until Father looks his way and gives permission to speak with a nod of his head.


    ¡°Sir, I¡¯d like to speak with you.¡± Keeping his eyes on Father, ¡°In private.¡±


    ¡°Pull up a chair and join us Teum. I was just telling the mayor about our recent successes in trade around the lakes and Rebirth.¡±


    Mayor Pilloski adds, ¡°It¡¯s impressive what can be achieved when you have certain resources at your disposal, perhaps we can duplicate those successes here in central Cenoka.¡±


    Too nervous to sit, ¡°This won¡¯t take long, I don¡¯t mind standing.¡±


    Father shrugged as if to say, suit yourself.


    Teum takes a breath and tries to sound convincing, ¡°The Masters of Mammatus Study believe the Empire of Blood is planning a full-on invasion of South Cenoka, the fighting is going to spread to every city, where there isn¡¯t enough man power to repel such an attack.


    ¡°We don¡¯t believe their intent is to subjugate. When they come it will be to purge our cities of all life.


    ¡°They¡¯re currently doing this to their own nation. Refugees are flooding our northern border. All telling the same stories, entire towns rounded up and taken to the capital to be slaughtered.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve been training their War Born to use the gift at unseen power levels. While we are busy fighting them, someone will need to defend the free cities of South Cenoka.


    ¡°Can we count on your assistance?¡±


    Father is silent, his expressionless face gives away nothing of his thoughts.


    It¡¯s half a minute before he responds, ¡°You ask for something I cannot deliver. I am here to forge an alliance between the legally recognized government and Family of Thuma. You¡¯ll need to talk to the head of each party to get your answer.


    ¡°Mayor Pilloski is right here. Mayor what do you think?¡±


    The mayor stands and takes a few paces so he can face both Teum and Mr. Lael.


    ¡°First, I would like to say thank you, to you and your fellow defenders for the excellent work you do protecting us from the terrible dangers of the world. I am entrusting you to personally convey my sincerest gratitude to your fellow masters at Mammatus Study. Their exploits are renowned all over South Cenoka and should never be forgot.


    ¡°I must also inform you that we are already negotiating with the Empire of Blood using an intermediary from the Peoples Province of Vorg.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where you get your reports, but our sources say the only danger from the north is an influx of cheap goods and exotic foods.


    ¡°If you have any solid evidence of an invasion, please leave it with my secretary and he¡¯ll provide me with a summary.


    Clasping his hands behind his back the mayor ends the conversation, ¡°Unless you have more to add, I believe this conversation is over.¡±


    Father stands and gives Teum a barely noticeable nod, ¡°Yes, we have pressing business ahead.


    ¡°Teum, you will join me for the upcoming meeting.¡±


    Teum wouldn¡¯t ordinarily involve himself in family business or politics for that matter, but this seems different and in light of the crazy notion that The Empire of Blood wants to open a trade route warrants an investigation.


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Fifteen minutes later the three of them are in an electric carriage driving down the rain slick roads of Twoya. Streetlights provide just enough illumination to light roads and pedestrian walkways.


    Leaving the government and business district their carriage driver takes them to the oldest retail district in the city, some say it¡¯s the heart of Twoya.


    Founded three thousand years ago, Twoya was a riverside trading post. The buildings here have been built up and modified but never replaced. Their purposes have changed over the millennia from warehouse to home, to factory, and dozens or hundreds of other uses. Their destination tonight is a building that has been a restaurant for the last twelve hundred years and is considered the ultimate destination for fine dining in the city.


    ¡°Welcome to Riverside, Mayor Pilloski,¡± greets the valet as he opens the carriage door.


    Continuing his greeting, ¡°The rest of your party has already arrived and are waiting in the Hearth Room as you directed.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    The mayor tips the valet a pair of coins as they enter the building and are greeted by a host.


    ¡°Welcome to Riverside, my name is Marcin, I will be your host tonight, if you need anything at all, please ask any member of my staff or myself.


    ¡°Please let me take your coats.¡±


    A small army of additional hosts swarmed the three diners to assist with the removal of their overcoats. When finished they abscond with the damp garments.


    The hosts wide-eyed double take at Teum¡¯s Defender uniform goes unnoticed by the guests.


    ¡°Does anyone require freshening up before joining the rest of your party?¡±


    Teum doesn¡¯t need to freshen up but wonders where the water closet is located.


    Father stoops low to whisper something to the host.


    Before Father can stand back up straight the host has signaled for a runner. A quick exchange of words and the runner disappears.


    After an appropriate pause where nobody indicates a need for a trip to the water closet the host invites, ¡°Please follow me, to the Hearth Room.¡±


    The mayor falls in line behind the host, followed by Father, Teum takes up the rear and tries to take in everything.


    Marcin, their host gives them the customary tour, ¡°Our main dining area as you can see is on your right. This doorway on your left leads to our wine cellar. I can give you a tour if you like.¡±


    Not expecting to be taken up on the offer he continues without pause and opens the adjacent door, ¡°This door leads to our dry aging room, where upwards of two thousand pounds of bovine meat is hanging at any given time.


    Teum, having never heard of bovine, is still processing the adjacent words like cow, beef, and steak, and was expecting to see thousands of tiny cavi-like carcasses on shelves. His jaw drops a little at the sight of six giant meat slabs suspended from massive hooks. His family raised pigs; none grew anywhere near that size.


    Closing the door, Marcin leads the group further into the restaurant, ¡°On our left is our secondary dining area. This is where we seat large groups that do not request a private room. I¡¯m certain you can smell the grill to our right. This is where all our steaks are cooked to each guest¡¯s specifications. If you look past the grill, you¡¯ll see the other cooking stations and prep areas.¡±


    Marcin slowed his pace to give everyone time to appreciate the long grill top with two dozen slabs of meat sizzling to perfection while a pair of chefs tend to the assortment of cuts before them.


    The open walkway between seating and kitchen becomes a long dark hall. Decorating the walls are several paintings of a farm. While making the final walk of fifteen yards, Marcin continues his tour, ¡°We grow and raise everything we serve at Riverside. The paintings you see are of our farm located on the outskirts of the city. It was once more than ten miles outside city limits, over the last thousand years, Twoya has grown exponentially and has nearly enveloped our land.


    Having reached the halls end, Marcin turns and indicates the door on his left, ¡°This door here is the water closet closest to the Hearth Room where you¡¯ll be dining tonight.


    ¡°I would be remiss if I did not point out that the Hearth Room is the oldest section of the Riverside and has dimensions fitting that time period. As you must know, buildings from that era were sized for a smaller people. While an average person can easily navigate the room, the two of you,¡± gesturing to Teum and Father, ¡°will need to watch your head when passing through the doorway, as well as watching out for the support beam running down the middle of the ceiling. Also take care to not hit the crown molding if walking near any of the walls.


    ¡°I¡¯ll check back with you after attending my other guests, until then I¡¯ll be leaving you with Maria and her assistants.¡±


    ¡°Eh hem, sir? I have that drink you requested.¡±


    The three guests turn and see the runner from before holding a short glass about a third full of a light brown liquid.


    Handing the drink to Father, ¡°I¡¯m Ewa and I¡¯ll be assisting Maria, and I promise to do my best for you.¡±


    Pushing past the group Ewa opens the door behind Marcin and holds it that way for the guests to enter.


    The mayor follows close behind, seeing that Father isn¡¯t moving. Teum goes ahead and narrowly avoids smashing his skull on the doorframe thanks to Ewa energetically pointing to the head of the door frame.


    Having successfully entering the room he takes a second to take an inventory of his surroundings. A long table with five chairs to a side and a single chair at the head of the table splits the room down the middle. The walls are painted white, artificial light is generated by machines mounted in the room¡¯s corners make the walls and ceiling glow a pleasant warm light that allows for comfortable lighting for people without the gift.


    The long narrow table is occupied by a mix of nine men and women with different tastes in fashion. Teum recognizes or thinks he recognizes a few of them. There¡¯s a woman from Brust Valley, he¡¯s never met her but has seen her with her family, the Moon¡¯s. There¡¯s another woman dressed like she¡¯s from his home in Oiho. He¡¯s uneasy at the appearance of another woman that bears an uncanny resemblance to Defender Remon from El¡¯Hat. The woman his wife killed while defending the Nguyen family.


    Entering the room is another restaurant worker, ¡°Welcome to The Riverside, my name is Marisa, and I look forward to doing my best to serve you. I see we have an additional diner tonight. Mayor Pilloski, where would you like me to seat him?¡±


    The mayor begins to answer when Father talks over him, ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. Teum will not be staying for long.¡±


    The mayor shrugs and takes the empty seat on the end-right side of the table. Father sits at the head of the table, the chair creaks ominously as it takes his weight. Teum not sure what he should do, stands to his fathers-in-law¡¯s right.


    It was at that moment when Teum realized what Father had orchestrated. Ten heads of state are seated in a cramped room with Fathers hulking figure between them and the only exit and standing at his right side is an equally large man, his son-in-law who is also a uniformed defender from the prestigious Mammatus Study. Whatever he¡¯s going to propose his starting position is one of strength and intimidation.


    Basement testing room, Mammatus Study


    Sanne coos, ¡°That was such a good job. For that you¡¯ve earned a treat.¡±


    The subject eagerly devours the offered treat and meekly responds, ¡°Thank you Sanne.¡±


    Master Blackwell sits in the corner as an observer, sickened by the methodology, thankful for the results. Watching the two friends now turned interrogator and subject is difficult to endure but necessary to survive. He wonders what other atrocities they will perform before this is over.


    Sanne worked Leven by the book, almost. Her mentor Minerva would not have been proud. Minerva would tell her that every subject is different and to exploit them most effectively you must experiment, get creative, become their world. Engage them in pain and pleasure, and only by infantilizing a subject can you be certain the results are pure. Minerva was insane.


    Using the technique of tearing away chunks of spirit and feeding them back to the subject is doing the job. The subject experiences pain and the following dulling of senses, to earn their reward they must talk. When the conversation wanes, the spirit can be returned.


    Torture by spirit rending is tricky and dangerous to both torturer and subject, a spirit without a host will rapidly deteriorate and disappear, the interrogator must sustain the spirit by grafting it to their own. Clipping that graft isn¡¯t pleasant, handing the spirit back feels like a loss of your own. It wears on you; it¡¯s like you¡¯re killing a bit of yourself each time. But you¡¯re not, the bit of spirit was never yours in the first place. Only the mental anguish is real.


    It¡¯s a game of submission; the subject begins the sessions with a defiant fire in their belly. Then they get a portion of their spirit rendered from their core. The world becomes dimmer, their feelings lessened. After a boring conversation, they get their spirit back. Each cycle a little is wasted, a loss of spirit that can never be regained. As the topics get more personal and the coveted information is shared the rewards get supplemented with sweets and other addictive substances.


    Sanne is no longer taking any spirit in these sessions, Leven¡¯s childlike demeaner isn¡¯t fake, emotionally he¡¯s an abused child seeking assurances from his abuser that the nightmare is over, and they can be happy again.


    Sanne ruffles Leven¡¯s hair as she stands. Smiling with eyes closed, Leven leans into her hand to prolong contact. Master Blackwell follows her out of the room.


    Sanne turns to Master Blackwell, ¡°I don¡¯t think he has anything left.¡±


    Kale notices what she didn¡¯t say, ¡°Do you mean information or spirit?¡±


    ¡°Both, there are no specifics he can share because he doesn¡¯t know anything outside of his own area of operation. If I degrade his spirit any further, we¡¯ll break him completely, he¡¯ll not be able to live without assistance.¡±


    ¡°You still think we should allow him to live after all he¡¯s done?¡±


    ¡°All he¡¯s done is blab our business to the Empire of Blood, most of that was public knowledge.¡±


    Kale sighs, because they¡¯ve had this argument before, ¡°We¡¯ve struggled to keep communications open with a number of our allies because our informants disappear. Your friend admits to learning their identities and passing it on. He may not be the one who kills them, but he makes the list that get them killed.


    ¡°And let us not forget that some of our best prospects have dropped out over his admitted manipulations. He¡¯s been undermining our efforts for a decade.


    ¡°He¡¯s done all that for the promise of getting elevated by one of the power lords of the north. He¡¯s a simple child now, but he was one, once before and look what he grew up to be.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but we now know all their methods and practices. Master Adara will be able to spot other such moles in a short time. Leven should be put into an environment where he can be raised anew. I can electrically lobotomize his memory of his time at Mammatus. In time he could regain much of his former function, minus the strength of his gift of course.¡±


    ¡°How is that any different than killing him?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not, but he was my friend. At least the fake part of him that he revealed.¡±


    Sadly, Kale reminds Sanne, ¡°Leven was recruited in his first year at study by someone operating in the city. We don¡¯t know that individuals real identity yet.


    ¡°Master Adara is making Leven¡¯s drop tonight. If it goes well, your part in this is over.¡±


    Sanne looks back through the door they didn¡¯t bother closing at Leven sitting on the floor bouncing a ball off the floor and catching it.


    ¡°I feel awful. I wish Malo were here.¡±


    At mention of that name, Kale, Sanne, and Leven all look down at the floor, their gaze slowly moving to the south and east. All three wonder what Malo could be doing on the other side of the world.


    Master Adara¡¯s personal quarters and office


    Vania sits at her desk in the outer office as the snoring emanating from her private quarters reminds her of the pleasant afternoon she shared with Terius. The continued distraction is welcome as thoughts of what¡¯s to come make her nervous.


    Impersonating others is second nature, it¡¯s the audience that has her worried. Even Leven doesn¡¯t know the rank of the person that picks up his drops. It could be an intermediary, a hireling, or a full-fledged power lord for all they know.


    Getting this wrong would mean starting from scratch, getting it right can lead to an entire network of spies. Rooting out the minions of the Empire of Blood is essential before the hostilities commence.


    The envelope in her hand contains the last report written by Leven. It¡¯s his handwriting; it¡¯s his words, there¡¯s nothing especially important revealed, but it could be what makes or breaks this operation.


    Using knowledge gained by Sanne, knowledge she would have rather not known existed, she¡¯s going to impersonate Leven and make the drop and attempt to follow whoever picks it up.


    She should get to it, there¡¯s no set day or time for these drops, now is as good a time as any.


    As if sensing her resolve, the snoring in the other room ceases. A refreshed and naked Terius is standing in the doorway, ¡°Leaving so soon?¡±


    ¡°Yes, this letter won¡¯t deliver itself.


    Sounding more confident than she feels, ¡°Are you ready for your part?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Vania. I was going to ask you the same question. This whole operation rests on your ability to fool whoever you encounter. I¡¯ll be within calling distance, just keep your wits about you and it will all be fine.¡±


    Giving Terius a peck on the cheek, ¡°Don¡¯t forget your pants.¡±


    Resisting the urge to jump out the window and fly away, she sticks to the plan and heads to the nearest stairwell where she enters as Master Vania Adara and exits as Page Supervisor Leven Pascal.


    She throws an aspect mask on that will make her less approachable. Leven has been missing for weeks; his sudden appearance will draw questions she doesn¡¯t want to answer.


    Outside the study she wanders down the street past the row of warehouses that share this block. Reaching the end, she turns north and marches purposefully as Leven described his routine.


    Stopping at a food cart she buys a meat pie. It¡¯s a ritual of his to treat himself to street food whenever he makes a drop. He¡¯s done it enough that the random vendor she chose greeted her by name.


    ¡°Good afternoon Leven, what can I get you?¡±


    Hoping Sanne¡¯s work went as well as she promised, ¡°Surprise me.¡±


    This made the woman working the stand happy, ¡°You¡¯re always the jokester, we only serve one thing. One meat pie coming up.¡±


    Two small silver coins cover the meat pie, Adara is about to leave when she remembers the part she¡¯s playing. Taking a nibble, she puts on the silly grin she¡¯s seen him do so many times, ¡°Mmmm, this is delicious. Can I take you home with me, you would make me the happiest man alive.¡±


    Adara¡¯s heart skips a beat when the woman replies, ¡°Leven, it¡¯s so unlike you to forget the important details.


    ¡°I¡¯m a happily married woman and you¡¯re two thirds my age.¡±


    Thinking fast, ¡°Well, should something happen¡­ you¡¯ve already had kids, so I know you can cook more than meat pies.¡±


    Adara leaves the double implication hanging in the air while enjoying the rosy sheen blooming on the woman¡¯s cheeks.


    Leven would address her by name, the stall is called Buster¡¯s and Marjorie¡¯s Pies. There was a student named Marjorie he gave her a nickname.


    ¡°Thanks for letting me taste your pie, Marggie.¡±


    Turning, it¡¯s Adara¡¯s turn to blush, that last comment was out of character for her but spot on for Leven.


    She doesn¡¯t wait for a response, taking a large bite of pie, she resumes her journey.


    Leven described fourteen dead drops, any of them can be used as the opportunity arises. The important step is to signal for a pickup and wait for confirmation.


    According to Sanne, Leven favors the dead drop nearest the study, she¡¯s already moved past it without hesitation. There are three more she passes, the one she wants is the most ridiculously open drop and the hardest to observe. If her quarry were suspicious of a trap, this is the least likely dead drop to use.


    The city of Mammatus is riddled with parks of all types and sizes. The park with the chosen dead drop is known simply as Lake Park and is dominated by a lake; row boats are available on a first come first served basis. A dozen boats pepper the water captained by people of all ages. A walking path lined with trees and bushes create uncountable blind spots where anything could happen unobserved.


    The biggest risk of coming here is running into someone that knows Leven that Vania has never met. She has no reason to be here, if someone were to ask, she¡¯d have to sell the story of going out for a walk to clear her head. Which is a wide-open invitation for follow up questions she doesn¡¯t want to answer.


    Her luck holds, nobody seems to recognize Leven. After a lap around the lake, she heads for the dead drop; an isolated fountain with two benches.


    There¡¯s a trash receptacle between the benches; that¡¯s the dead drop. The signal is sent by activating a machine under the lip of the lid.


    She crumples the envelope and tosses it into the bin. Stooping to adjust her shoe straps allows her to look for the activation button. Seeing a nub, she stands while using the trash bin for balance and presses the nub with her thumb.


    There are three possible confirmations, a bell, a bark, or a whistle. It¡¯s up to the agent that will be picking it up to send the confirmation. Staying near the bin, Leven sits on the bench and gazes at the lake.


    Minutes pass, people come and go. A man dumps the leftovers from a picnic into the bin, not Leven¡¯s problem.


    A distant inu bark almost went unnoticed, that was the signal. If the confirmation signal doesn¡¯t come in thirty minute¡¯s it¡¯s up to Leven to destroy the contents of the bin. That won¡¯t be necessary today.


    Leven stands, stretches and heads back the way he came.


    The study master waits on a small hill six yards from the bin, out in the open, completely invisible.


    A bold woman¡¯s voice startles the master, ¡°Fixing the grass blades beneath your feet is a wonderful touch. You truly are the master of sight and sound. I hope for your sake you didn¡¯t hurt Leven.¡±

 Just a forgotten Snippet

    Barracks, Bearlower


    Lying on his bunk he stares blankly at the grey painted ceiling.


    The situation would be infuriating if it wasn¡¯t so comical. Cuauht¨¦moc tracked his prey more than six thousand miles across two continents, they¡¯re less than two hundred yards from his current position. Nothing could stop him from going there, dispatching the traitorous parents, and recovering the stolen property.


    Nothing but the hundreds of War Born that have sworn allegiance to said stolen property. He would be pursued and harassed every northernly step he took.


    With kidnapping removed from his list of options, Cuauht¨¦moc attempted negotiations and requested an audience with the camp leader.


    When he was granted that audience, imagine his surprise when he learned the baby he was to recover is a freak throwback to the days of legends. He¡¯s maturing twice as fast as normal War Born, and is not just up walking, he¡¯s ascended to some unknown leadership role.


    He first assumed the traitors and stolen property were present to defend their actions. As Mayor Commander Fenna presided over the audience, she would look to the stolen property for consent before responding, causing him to revise that thought.


    The parents didn¡¯t even remember him from their encounter on the docks. They remembered the encounter, but not him personally or so they claimed. They tendered a believable apology for stabbing him and tossing him into the bay. Being forgotten cut deeper than any thrown knife.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Cuauht¨¦moc stares at the ceiling in an attempt to stop his spiraling thoughts.


    It was infuriating when Commander Fenna decreed, under no circumstances would they surrender anyone to an agent of the Empire of Blood. Even playing the ¡°It¡¯s the will of the Free¡¯er¡± card did nothing to weaken their resolve to thwart his mission.


    The final irony of the journey was learning from a bunch of secluded War Born that his emperor is dead. No details other than it was Defenders from Mammatus that defeated him in a battle along with his fellow knight Cairn. The battle against Cairn must have been incredible to witness, the emperor was no warrior that battle must have been one of will power.


    His outward loyalty is to R?tsel, but he was originally recruited by Trebor and tasked with inserting himself into R?tsel¡¯s organization. He never expected his talent with table top puzzles to get him promoted to the rank of Knight.


    He had two objectives, retrieving stolen property and finding out how these two changed their scents. The scent change could have been an inside job where someone swapped samples. Except there¡¯s no one person with that access. It would take a minimum of four people to pull that off. The chance of that is near zero, someone would report the action to get promoted. That puzzle and their sudden rise to a place of rank in a foreign land reeks of spy-craft. The business of spying always circles back to his true master, Trebor.


    Retrieving empire property for a dead emperor is less important than finding out how they cheated the tracking inu. The answer isn¡¯t here, it isn¡¯t back in Anapa, but the answer Cuauht¨¦moc seeks might be found in the Peoples Province of Vorg.


    It¡¯s time to report in person to the man that recruited him, Secretary Robert Mills of House Costaguti.

 Chapter Sixteen – Disciples of the Free’er

    Springville, North Cenoka


    Yara brushes an obsidian hand through her platinum hair, it¡¯s in need of brushing but there¡¯s never enough time in her day. The report in her other hand is all good news; Dhana may be starving the populous of North Cenoka, but that leaves ample funds to keep her factories running. Looking at the neat concisely written report makes her wish she¡¯d never speak with that sing-song-rhyming freak ever again.


    Face to face meetings are for people with time to waste, she runs forty-seven weapons manufactories. Keeping them at top efficiency takes all her time.


    This office is all she needs for twenty hours of her day. The loan chair is comfortable, her desk while not big or ornate, is large enough to be productive. A second writing desk, elevated to be useable while standing is the only other furnishing. The rest of her wall space is consumed by file cabinets and bookshelves.


    A light tap on her door breaks through her rare moment of self-reflection.


    The person on the other side is Lula, her personal assistant, ¡°Enter.¡±


    Lula enters the room, lacking the determination and skills of her boss, her complexion is deep brown in color. Her light green hair and brown eyes make her appear plain compared to her ebony colored, platinum haired, face blurred superior.


    Lula knows better to speak before being addressed, stands attentively before the paper covered desk.


    Yara places the letter in her hand face down and looks up at her assistant, ¡°You may speak.¡±


    Keeping her voice reverent, ¡°Disciple Yara, I have the numbers you requested. Would you like me to recite them, or would you rather read them yourself?¡±


    ¡°Recite away but be quick. I have work to do.¡±


    ¡°Of course, your magnificence; as you predicted the loss of efficiency at thirty of our plants was due to defections. A total of one hundred priests lefts their designated positions and seemingly disappeared.¡±


    Hearing she was correct brings a small glimmer of pleasure, ¡°Is there anything more to report?¡±


    ¡°Yes, implementing the work procedures as you directed, I started an inquiry into the man-power shortage. My investigator interviewed managers at each facility looking for commonalities.


    ¡°The common thread turns out to be a visit from the vice president of production who showed up at each site to perform an employee survey.


    ¡°Under the guise of randomly choosing a number of employee files, he interviewed each of them. All but a few of those priests are the ones that disappeared.¡±


    Yara sits back in her chair and speeds her mind to check through all the possibilities before speaking, ¡°How many were interviewed and did not leave?¡±


    ¡°Thirteen.¡±


    ¡°Have they been detained for questioning?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say they have not. While they did not disappear, they still account for the loss of man-power.¡±


    Yara is not pleased with this outcome, ¡°We have a war to prepare for, the only excuse to not perform their duties is death. Have them executed!¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± speaking rapidly to cut off the building outburst, ¡°They¡¯re already dead. By their own hands. The same night the one hundred priests deserted their posts, the thirteen hung themselves by the neck.¡±


    ¡°How certain are you that they were not murdered?¡±


    ¡°You can never be one-hundred percent certain of such things, but there was no sign of struggle. It was suicide.¡±


    Yara doesn¡¯t hesitate with her last question, knowing the answer she asks anyways, ¡°Who is, no who was our vice president of production?¡±


    ¡°That position was still held by your originally pick, Brother Ogen Lash.¡±


    Yara leans forward elbows on desk, fingers steepled, ¡°Of course it would be him, he¡¯s a fanatic with unparalleled devotion to the dragon. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find the missing priests to be zealots too. Lash¡¯s ability to motivate people made him an excellent choice for upper management. He was bound to betray us as we strayed further from her mission.


    ¡°Our missing VP and his one hundred will surely be gathering at the lava fields. Dispatch a mechanic to clean up this mess.¡±


    Yara waves a hand in dismissal and picks up a stack of work orders that require her approval.


    Lula, having anticipated exactly this outcome had already issued the summons. Outside the disciples drab office waits Fixer Albrecht.


    Albrecht is dressed in his grey coveralls, halfway unbuttoned with the top half off his shoulders and draped around his waist, exposing his white sleeveless undershirt. His short cropped vermilion hair has black tips that match his vacant black eyes. At 60-inches he¡¯s taller than average, his chiseled physique proves all 155 pounds are muscle.


    Lula takes a moment to admire the perfect masculine figure he presents before addressing him, ¡°Fixer Albrecht, our disciple has work for you. One hundred and one priests have brought disgrace to the productivity of her Magnificence. They are all to be terminated with no possibility of returning.¡±


    Rebirth coastline, Cantial Ocean


    The Sou¡¯wester pushes the Rebirth convoy steadily home, another two days and they¡¯ll be safely in port unloading their wares and preparing for the return trip.


    Defender Aquinas of El¡¯Hat Study is here for two reasons, the first is to restore honor to his study. That honor was squandered by their previous headmaster and his six cronies, Master¡¯s Finner, Remon, and Ta Raha. Master Nguyen claims ignorance, but his failure to return home points to complicity. The second reason is his oath as a defender to uphold the natural laws of humanity. It¡¯s his moral imperative to intervene when there is injustice.


    These ruminations are a distraction from the tedious task of watching out for an adversary that has become increasingly better at hiding their approach with each interaction. No longer can they rely on the presence of underwater turbulence to give away the enemies presence. They caught on to that hole in their cloaks after the second encounter.


    He¡¯s not alone on deck, lounging in a chair next to him, with eyes closed you¡¯d think he was asleep, is Bill the ships electrical engineer.


    The ship is called the Narwhal, it¡¯s powered by electricity. It¡¯s Bill¡¯s job to gather free elects from the surrounding sea and atmosphere and keep the batteries topped off. The convoy can only go as fast as it¡¯s slowest member, there are twenty-two wind powered ships that are holding them to 14-knots at the moment.


    Defender Aquinas is the Dean of Combat with a gift ill suited to weather manipulation. The hired duelists are all lacking in the same department, 14-knots will have to do.


    A blinding flash of light followed by a thunderous roar of sizzling air causes everyone to jump or duck.


    Defender Aquinas jumps and quickly identifies two North Cenoka longboats barreling towards the starboard side of the convoy.


    Short sword drawn, Aquinas launches himself straight towards the nearer of the two.


    Old-timers like him have a saying, time is free, you have to pay for everything else. Expending nothing but willpower he subverts time to propel himself toward his adversary. The swells are less than two yards. Aquinas lowers himself until he¡¯s skipping along the surface of the water. Stabbing through waves and sailing above the troughs. Each impact with water generating bone shattering collisions of kinetic energy. Using lessons learned by only a few of his generation that energy floods throughout his body strengthening his 62-inch, 170 pound frame multiplying his strength five-fold.


    Using all his senses to watch the longboat ahead he can see the sailors moving into a cluster along the ships keel line. Reports say there should be fifty men on that ship, they look to be shorthanded.


    That was all the preparations Aquinas had time to make, as he slammed a meaty fist into the prow of the ship dislodging planks and creating openings all the way down to the waterline.


    Allowing his gravity to return to normal. He¡¯s no longer propelled forward and plants his feet on the rising deck. The jarring force buckles more decking further weakening the ships integrity.


    An enemy sailor throws a kinetic powered fist at the defenders head. Aquinas bats the fist away with his free hand, his sword flicks towards his attacker. A narrow slit opens on the side of the woman¡¯s neck followed by a thick stream of crimson.


    A cluster of men and woman in the center of the ship are aligned in two rows of seven, one hand resting on the shoulder of the sailor before each.


    Aquinas releases a flash of lightning, with his mind operating just as fast, after twirling 360-degrees to take in his surroundings, he releases his short sword as he completes his turn. With aim true, the sword punches through the first sailor, passes nearly through the second and fatally stabs a third sailor.


    The second line reacts a moment later and releases a powerful blast similar to the one fired on the convoy.


    The pulse of kinetic energy comes at Aquinas at just under the speed of sound. Unable to dodge, dumps everything in his hold into the ships hull and attempts to absorb the incoming blast.


    The defender¡¯s energy hold fills, overflows, by instinct he channels more into his already energy infused flesh. His right shoulder and arm take the brunt of projected force. Bones shatter, flesh tears, his armor keeps the limb from ripping free.


    Aquinas can¡¯t feel any of his limbs through the pain consuming his mind and spirit. He almost forgets how much energy he¡¯s holding.


    Using his left hand he draws his baton, ignoring the water swirling around his knees, Defender Aquinas advances on the eleven sailors aligned against him.


    The row of four are resetting for another attack. Aquinas dismisses them, it was the seven that took his arm, they are the bigger threat. A powered leap takes him to their side with the ships rail to his back. A kinetic infused swing of the baton takes off the heads of two sailors. Imagining his right hand clinched in a fist he throws every inch-pound of kinetic force he has left into the three foremost sailor knee caps.


    Unprotected legs explode, chunks of flesh are torn from bones as the seven sailors combined kinetic output is returned concentrated at knee level.


    Mind still racing at lightning speed, Defender Aquinas pounces on the remaining two with his baton; a crushing blow to a clavicle collapsing the first and a crosswise upper swing connects with the chin of the second, snapping his neck.


    The row of four get their bearings, they must be weakened or running short of energy, their next blast is easily taken by Aquinas. He doesn¡¯t even bother shooting it back. Three rapid strikes with his baton and all of them are floating in the now waist deep water.


    Defender Aquinas is in no rush to see what¡¯s behind him. The carnage he saw when he spun around before throwing his sword was already bad enough.


    Whether the second longboat sank or fled, the damage done in those first few moments was devastating.


    North Cenoka, Anapa


    Tepeyollotl reads the report summary his aid has brought him. Preferring to learn of events verbally he likes to start with a summary and then grill his expert staff for details and opinions.


    Something about these reports has been bothering him, ¡°It says our attack boat disengaged when objectives were met. What exactly does that mean?¡±


    Citlalli dreads these sessions; she confidently responds, ¡°The navy was given the mission of degrading the enemy shipping capabilities by four percent a month, to grind them down until our forces have reached their full strength.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know that. Why did we disengage when there were still enemies willing to fight?¡±


    Citlalli pushes on with her false confidence, ¡°Continuing to fight would be a deviation of the battle plan left in place.¡±


    Tepeyollotl afraid he¡¯d hear something like that, tempers his response, ¡°Did anyone review this battle plan when we inherited it from the other?¡±


    Tepey doesn¡¯t want to use the name Yellow in front of his aids, and he certainly won¡¯t ever call him the nameless one ever again.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°We¡¯ve taken over so much, I don¡¯t know if we¡¯ve had a chance to review every order.¡±


    Agitated, Tepey belts out, ¡°You mean to tell me you left the battle plan in place that was put together by a bunch of neural divergent bureaucrats with zero responsibility?¡±


    Citialli holds her composure, ¡°I¡¯ll have this addressed right away.¡±


    Tepeyollotl wants to lash out and kill his staff, that¡¯s what Yellow would do. He¡¯s not Yellow, his staff is actually talented and good at their jobs. He closes his eyes and meditates for an hour.


    Opening his eyes he continues, ¡°The report mentions a single longboat, I ordered them to go out in pairs, explain.¡±


    Glad that this will end soon, Citialli picks up where they left off an hour ago, ¡°The second longboat was lost with all hands.¡±


    Had Tepey not taken an hour to cool down, he¡¯d have lost it over this, ¡°We lost a boat and fifty men?¡±


    ¡°The boat had a skeleton crew of fifteen. They were only along to observe and provide backup if asked.¡±


    ¡°Why was it lost?¡±


    ¡°It seems the free cities of South Cenoka are now aided by a Defender Study.¡±


    Citialli hopes he makes them stand for another hour and not blow up upon hearing the news.


    ¡°That was expected to happen eventually. Don¡¯t we have people in each of the studies, why am I only now hearing of this?¡±


    ¡°The study in El¡¯Hat recently went dark, as did a second.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I remember that now. That happened months ago, why have our agents not been replaced?¡±


    ¡°Both studies have tightened security, we can¡¯t add people if they don¡¯t open admissions or hire from outside. We can¡¯t be certain how the Disciple from Vorg is addressing the issue.¡±


    Tepey inwardly compliments his aid on her tactful shift of blame to Trebor.


    ¡°The summary states objectives were met, how many ships did we leave afloat?¡±


    ¡°They were told to take a maximum of twenty-four boats, it was a small convoy of twenty-seven. They left three disabled but afloat.¡±


    ¡°Were there any wind runners present?¡±


    ¡°No, this convoy was too small and the contents not important enough to warrant an escort.¡±


    ¡°Yet, there was a Defender there.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have anyone inside the studies, but our government sources are in place. The trade association of Rebirth has sent requests for help to all the studies of South Cenoka.¡±


    Tepey dismisses his aid curtly and ponders the issues at hand. Building the ships is easy, the returns from the pits are diminishing, more births but less with the gift from each successive litter. He has a decision to make, delay or begin the extermination underpowered.


    House of Costaguti


    Slipping across a border is easy, it¡¯s often an imaginary line on a map somewhere; in this case it¡¯s a creek.


    Equipped with nothing more than the clothes on his back and small pack containing two dozen energy bars, Cuauht¨¦moc jauntily steps over it.


    He knows this crossing well, he¡¯s used it dozens of times and it¡¯s also a favorite of smugglers because of the lack of eyes. This section has been left unofficially-intentionally open for this very reason. Smuggled goods keep the populous happy and it provides a point of entry for official operatives such as himself.


    There¡¯s a hundred yard clearing before the tree line. After reaching the tree¡¯s its twenty miles before there¡¯s an unguarded section of road, once on that road he can saunter right into any town it connects.


    Instead, he needs to be caught. Taking the road will require four days of travel, then he¡¯ll need to commandeer transportation to Valleta, and he doesn¡¯t want to waste time on all that. Getting caught will put him in the system, it will take hours instead of days to be on his way to Valleta.


    Crossing the tree line, the forest here is thin with good visibility. The trees are regularly harvested and the forest floor kept clean. Smugglers know to veer west, Cuauht¨¦moc goes directly south where he¡¯s sure to encounter sentries.


    It takes almost two hours before he hears, ¡°Halt! Do not move!¡±


    A roll of shoulders drops his pack to the ground, placing his hands on his head, Cuauht¨¦moc drops to his knees and awaits further instructions.


    The sentries are exactly what he expects, emaciated and exhausted. Il fitted uniforms hang from slumped shoulders. Malnutrition has turned both their hair grey, making them look identical. This is a hardship post, used as punishment by every branch of the Party. These two have been here a while.


    Sentry one, ¡°Search him for food.¡±


    ¡°I have energy bars in my pack, take them all.¡±


    Sentry one, ¡°Shut up, do you want me to add attempted bribery on top of smuggling?¡±


    ¡°By all means pad my charges, I want to draw attention from your supervisors.¡±


    Sentry one, ¡°Jonseie take his pack. Is he lying?¡±


    Jonseie snatches the pack and looks inside, ¡°He wasn¡¯t lying.¡±


    Pulling out two bars Jonseie tosses one to the other sentry and greedily tears into the other.


    Cuauht¨¦moc see¡¯s Jonseie reaching for more, ¡°Don¡¯t eat them all at once, your stomachs will not be ready. You¡¯ll just throw them up.


    ¡°Drink some water, have another in thirty minutes. Hide the rest.¡±


    Sentry one, ¡°Shut up smuggler, you don¡¯t tell us what to do.¡±


    Jonseie takes the pack and slings it over his shoulder.


    The two are only armed with clubs, Cuauht¨¦moc considers attacking them to elevate his charges, it¡¯s not like either of them are in any shape to inflict real damage. Seeing how frail they look he refrains out of concern for their mortality.


    Sentry one slaps cuffs on Cuauht¨¦moc¡¯s wrists with his arms in front, showing a lack of training as well as nutrition.


    On the walk back both sentries sip water, they must be feeling better because they engage in small talk.


    Jonseie asks, ¡°How did you get past the first two sentry lines?¡±


    Cuauht¨¦moc suppresses his laugh, ¡°I never saw them, I thought you were the first.¡±


    Sentry one presses, ¡°What else are you smuggling, the bag of food is a decoy. We¡¯re going to have to get someone to screen you for whatever you swallowed.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine by me, don¡¯t you want to know my name?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get to that, I want to know where you were going and who are you working with?¡±


    Did these men receive no training or are they really this bad at their jobs, ¡°Suspects are usually more cooperative if you establish a rapport first. You know exchange names, at least one of you should be friendly. Jonseie should be that guy. You should let him chat me up for a while, then start asking me the tough questions.¡±


    Sentry one snickers, ¡°So if I asked you your name first, you would tell me everything?¡±


    ¡°Me? Of course not, I¡¯m here on party business. I can¡¯t disclose any information to someone without clearance.¡±


    Now Jonseie snickers, ¡°You, on party business? Sneaking across the border with candy bars. If that¡¯s true I¡¯ll be dining in Valleta tonight at the House of Costaguti.¡±


    ¡°How much further to your outpost and are the communication lines working?¡±


    Having reminded himself of the pack full of energy bars, Jonseie responds without thinking, ¡°Another twenty minutes at this pace and the lines are working fine.¡±


    ¡°Good, you two have time to eat another bar before you get there and since the lines are up, I don¡¯t have to escape.


    ¡°My name is Cuauht¨¦moc Il Ritorno Costaguti by the way. Be sure to spell it correctly on your report.¡±


    Sentry one processes Cuauht¨¦moc upon reaching the outpost. On advice from his captor, he claims all contraband was destroyed during apprehension. He was going to turn in half the bars, Cuauht¨¦moc pointed out how suspicious that would look. Either way will look questionable but this way they have time to consume the food while waiting to see if there will be an inquiry.


    Jonseie removes the cuffs and parks Cuauht¨¦moc in the lone cell.


    It takes seven hours from the time the report is transmitted for a high priority response to return, directing the sentries to release and cooperate with Cuauht¨¦moc, for transportation to arrive in the form of an electric buggy.


    Jonseie and his partner are quickly forgotten as Cuauht¨¦moc is taken to the bustling city of Cremona where he is given train passage to Valleta. There an inu drawn carriage awaits to take him to the House of Costaguti.


    Afforded one hour and a guest room to freshen up Cuauht¨¦moc takes advantage of the opportunity to don clean clothes that befit a party member of Vorg.


    Office of Secretary Robert Mills of House Costaguti


    ¡°You¡¯ve come a long way and by a most unusual route to be here. Is this because of the sudden demise of your employer, R?tsel?¡±


    Cuauht¨¦moc feigns prior knowledge of her death, ¡°Not at all. I was dispatched to retrieve something and to diagnose a weakness in our security protocols. The item retrieval will not be possible, it is the other issue which has brought me here.¡±


    ¡°This issue is so important that it¡¯s brought you across two continents, and for you to request an audience with me?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly, I requested an audience with Francesco and figured I would be passed down the chain much further than you sir.¡±


    ¡°Well played, and here I thought you had let your promotion to Cairn go to your head. Now that she¡¯s dead that title is meaningless. Under me you are a simple investigator. How does that sit with you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s actually what I¡¯m best suited for; I¡¯m no knight. Are you saying I can cut ties with my deceased employer?¡±


    ¡°You might as well, everyone else has. Her pyramid didn¡¯t collapse like what¡¯s-his-faces but it might have well done so. Her organization bled out faster than she did.¡±


    Cuauht¨¦moc might be overstepping but must find out, ¡°If I may be so bold as to ask you a question, how did it happen?¡±


    ¡°Ordinarily I¡¯d say there¡¯s a fifty percent chance I¡¯d be offended by an investigator quizzing me. In this case I¡¯m going to enjoy delivering the answer.


    ¡°She was murdered. She was murdered in her private bath. No trace of the killer was found. It was a classic closed room assassination. Exactly the kind of thing I¡¯m usually responsible to arrange.


    ¡°Except I didn¡¯t and none of my contemporaries believe me.¡±


    Cuauht¨¦moc sees his opening and offers, ¡°Is there anything I can do to assist?¡±


    Secretary Mills laughs heartily at the offer, ¡°No, there¡¯s no repairing that relationship; but since you ask¡­


    ¡°There are two issues that are pressing and need tending to. Perhaps you could take one on. The first has to do with a leak in my intelligence network. It appears that my enemies have found a way to tap into my information flows. I don¡¯t believe you¡¯re the man for that job.


    ¡°The second though, might be exactly what Detective Cuauht¨¦moc desires.¡±


    Secretary Mills opens a drawer, removes a leaflet, and passes it to Cuauht¨¦moc, ¡°These have been showing up all over Valleta. I wish to know who is distributing them.¡±


    Glancing at the bold headline, the detective resolves to find out who is distributing these Eternal Grace leaflets; whatever that happens to be.


    Cuauht¨¦moc slaps his chest in salute and states, ¡°It will be done,¡± before correcting himself, ¡°I¡¯m proud to be a party member.¡±


    When the detective leaves, Trebor drops his Mills face and replaces it with his blurred visage.


    Alleyway, Sacchetti Ghetto


    ¡°You!¡± accuses the youth furiously when Renzo pulls back his hood to reveal his face.


    Missionary Renzo says nothing, knowing the boys curiosity will outweigh his outrage.


    Looking up and down the alley, ¡°You have a lot of nerve contacting me like this. Is this some sort of sting operation? Do you need to make quota, by kicking over old rocks?


    ¡°Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I¡¯ve given up on trying to save the world.¡±


    To make his point he gestures to his feet to highlight his recently acquired shoes that took him five hours in a queue to receive.


    ¡°I¡¯m not here to entrap you. I¡¯m here to apologize. Not for doing my job or stabbing you in the leg, I¡¯d do it all over again if I catch you openly subverting the party again. I apologize for not seeing through the veil of party propaganda sooner.¡±


    The Youth, Marshal isn¡¯t sure he heard the party-puppet correctly but senses weakness and must strike, ¡°Did I just here the Capitano say he¡¯s disenchanted with the Party?¡±


    ¡°Maggiore, I¡¯ve been promoted and yes, you could say I¡¯m disenchanted with the Party.


    ¡°I spent more than a year abroad and learned that everything you believed was true. The Party is corrupt and life outside of Vorg is better in every way.


    ¡°It¡¯s funny that you used your shoes as an example of compliance because it was their shoes that exposed the lie.¡±


    Marshal is dumbfounded and still believes this is an elaborate frame-job, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s nice but I need to be somewhere else right now.¡±


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t. I¡¯ve surveilled you for the last three weeks, you¡¯re heading home where you¡¯re going to heat a can of beans for dinner and drink yourself unconscious like you do every other night.¡±


    ¡°You used to preach on street corners the evils of the Party. What if I told you there was a better way to take them down?¡±


    Marshal consoles himself with the fact that if a Maggiore has targeted him, then he¡¯s cooked. He might as well play along and hope to survive. Nodding his head is all he can muster to indicate he¡¯s willing to listen.


    Missionary Renzo pulls a leaflet from his pocket, ¡°Have you seen these?¡±


    The youth looks at the piece of paper being offered, takes it and skims a few lines, ¡°Yeah, I see these littering the streets a lot lately.


    ¡°Have you read one?¡±


    ¡°Nah, it looks like gibberish.¡±


    Renzo smiles, because that¡¯s what he thought when he first read about the prophecies.


    ¡°Read it, it should take less than two minutes; I¡¯ll wait.¡±


    Marshal is skeptical and skims the first few lines, then something catches his eye. There¡¯s a sentence about something greater than self being self-evident. He backs up and re-reads from the top.


    After reading it through twice, Marshal pulls his eyes off the leaflet, ¡°This is amazing stuff. I don¡¯t know if I believe the conclusions but if we get people to commit to this, the party will lose sway over their hearts and minds. Take that away and the Party is just an oppressive oligarchy.¡±


    Handing the paper back to Renzo, ¡°I wish you luck. I have a can of beans waiting for me.¡±


    Renzo needs to make his finale push before Marshal retreats, ¡°You know, in prison you get two meals a day. The menu varies, but you get meat five out of six days.¡±


    Halting mid turn, ¡°Are you threatening me with prison time?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m threatening you with two nutritious meals a day and a chance to make a real difference for the People of Vorg.¡±


    Stomach growling, ¡°Ok, you¡¯ve got my attention now. What is it you want from me?¡±


    Missionary Renzo digs deep into what he was taught by his mentor in val¡¯Air, ¡°I¡¯m a zealot, think on that word and all the implications.¡±


    Marshal had never heard the word but upon hearing it, the definition comes to mind. Thinking about what that means in this context brings a smile. He considered himself dedicated to bringing down the party, but his feelings fell well short from that of zealot.


    ¡°Ok, you¡¯ve finally gotten my attention. What would you have me do if I were to be sent to prison?¡±


    ¡°I need someone on the inside to spread the good word of Eternal Grace. It¡¯s no more complicated than that.¡±


    ¡°Prison life isn¡¯t easy, I¡¯d need more than two meals a day to make such a sacrifice worth making.¡±


    ¡°The people in prison need something to give them strength. The possibility of Eternal Grace could give them strength. The party would frown on it, but it would at the same time make the prisoners more compliant, something the guards would desire.¡±


    ¡°The payoff is when they are released, they¡¯ll be entering their new life with a dedication to Eternal Grace that I could never foster on the outside under the party¡¯s nose.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I got all that on my own. What¡¯s in it for me?¡±


    ¡°Besides the downfall of the Party?


    ¡°You too can achieve Grace.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me an answer now, take this,¡± Renzo hands him a copy of the book of prophecies, ¡°and read it over the next few days and I¡¯ll contact you in a week. Let me know what you think.¡±


    Marshal takes the book and leaflet and exits the alley, planning to rendezvous with his can of beans before considering the book in his pocket.


    The small statue in Renzo¡¯s pocket crawls out and claws its way up his shirt to perch on his shoulder.


    ¡°Well done Missionary Renzo. I think he¡¯ll come around.¡±


    ¡°If he does, it¡¯s all because you pointed me in his direction.¡±


    ¡°Awe, I only found him because of your report. You described him as a true believer and someone not likely to reform. It looks like you were right.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see Maddie, we¡¯ll see.¡±

 Chapter Seventeen – Dinner and a Show

    Lake Park, City of Mammatus


    ¡°I hope for your sake you didn¡¯t hurt my Leven.¡±


    Dropping the voice disguise, Master Adara drawls, ¡°Pain is a relative experience that¡¯s hard to communicate to others, you can never be certain of someone else¡¯s. And he was ours before you corrupted him.¡±


    After a pause Adara adds, ¡°You see me, why don¡¯t you show yourself.¡±


    The bold feminine voice snidely replies, ¡°If you can¡¯t see me, you¡¯re not worthy to do so.¡±


    Turning her head twenty degrees and gazing at the empty top of a hill ten yards away, ¡°I asked you to show yourself, I didn¡¯t say I couldn¡¯t see you.¡±


    A woman in a white dress patterned with small pink flowers lightly peppering its length appears, nods her mid-length, violet hair covered head in salute before turning and disappearing down the far side of the hill with a few quick strides.


    Dashing to the top of the small hill, the master disguised as Leven finds a dragon scale bracer abandoned on the ground. Peering across the surface of that device pierces illusions. The view is muddled and distorted, from tunneling through space between viewer and subject. Master Adara has put many hours of research on these bracers. This one will be added to her collection. Vania Adara watches as the woman joins the crowd of people exiting the park.


    Vania Adara contently follows the woman, preferring a less populated battlefield than what the park offers.


    The woman upon exiting the park, disappears behind the brick column supporting the access gate, reappearing with her dress changed from white with pink flowers to pink with white birds. Each step she takes, the dress hem shortens until it almost shows her knees.


    Turning on to an avenue lined with women¡¯s clothing stores, where the crowd is thick with similarly dressed women. Locked on target, the master engages all senses to keep from being distracted.


    The woman from nowhere produces a black jacket and drapes it around her shoulders, when she does so her violet hair lengthens and darkens to a deep shade of purple.


    Quickened steps take the woman around another corner, peering through the wooden structure with gift enhanced senses reveals her skeletal form breaking into a run.


    The woman, now dressed in slacks, white blouse, and black leather jacket, is sprinting. The master from Mammatus minimally fast traveling, keeps pace easily.


    Two blocks are quickly traversed, taking them into a middle-class neighborhood. Here there are rows of townhouses built of stone, with narrow alleys separating every second residence from its neighbor.


    The woman vaults up the stairs and seemingly passes through a closed door like a ghost.


    Master Adara is not fooled, the door was left open, and the woman was dressed as she now appears the whole time. It was nice of her to make the chase visually entertaining but accomplished nothing.


    A cursory sweep of the building reveals nobody but the woman is present. She¡¯s chosen the battlefield, the least the Dean of Sight and Sound can do is oblige the woman with her confrontation.


    Inside the woman is seated on a settee, that would have matched her original dress. The other furnishings are an eclectic collection of wooden chairs, tables, and lamps.


    Master Adara speaks first, ¡°You could have just invited me to join you here, we could have spoken while we walked.¡±


    ¡°You presume I wanted you to follow.¡±


    ¡°Well, you did imply harm would come to me if Leven was somehow injured. I can¡¯t allow such threats to go unaddressed.¡±


    Standing, the woman draws a new model of pistol. Revolvers and bolt action rifles are no longer state of the art. This firearm is loaded using a preloaded magazine that holds fourteen rounds.


    Using both hands, she levels the pistol at Master Adara¡¯s face, ¡°Don¡¯t move, or I¡¯ll punch a hole through that pretty face of yours.


    ¡°I see by your expression that you¡¯re not familiar with this weapon. You¡¯ll also be unfamiliar with the ammunition. The priests say it uses something called smokeless powder, far more energetic than black powder, at this range only a few people could dodge these bullets and you¡¯re not one of them. And if you think you¡¯re going to capture the kinetic energy, think again. These lead slugs have dragon scale jackets.¡±


    ¡°Now, how are you going to return my Leven? He¡¯s no good to you and it sounds like he¡¯s already been punished.¡±


    The master isn¡¯t impressed, ¡°You are in no position to negotiate. Tell us where Leven¡¯s reports go?¡±


    Moving her aim to the right of Master Adara¡¯s head, she lightly squeezes the trigger. Thunder rings out as a projectile moving approximately 400 yards per second narrowly misses the masters head and punches a hole in the wall beyond.


    Returning her sights to the space between Master Adara¡¯s eyes, ¡°Still think I¡¯m not in a good position to negotiate?¡±


    Smirking, ¡°Thanks for the demonstration I wasn¡¯t sure this would work until you did that. Where do Leven¡¯s reports go after you retrieve them?¡±


    The woman show¡¯s annoyance at the lack of concern on Vania¡¯s face.


    Master Adara tries a new tact, ¡°Let¡¯s start over, with me taking the lead. My name is Vania, I work with someone you know. He goes by the name Leven. What does he call you?¡±


    Her face is turning red in frustration, but she keeps her arms relaxed and her grip firm, ¡°You know Leven, he¡¯s always using pet names to woo his women.¡±


    Vania, acting coyly, ¡°Does that include you, are you one of his women?¡±


    Barely changing her aim, the woman squeezes off another round and resumes her lethal posture while the blast still rings in all their ears.


    ¡°You misunderstand our relationship. Besides our professional entanglements, I am his mentor and advisor. He calls me Mistress Jane.¡±


    ¡°Excellent, it¡¯s nice to meet you, Jane.


    ¡°I feel like we have so much we can discuss. I¡¯d like to start with this terrible business you¡¯ve gotten yourself and Leven caught up in. You know, we can help with getting you out.¡±


    In answer the woman squeezes off another round, this one nearly nicking the master¡¯s ear.


    ¡°We have nothing to discuss other than how you plan on returning Leven to me.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sweet Jane, that simply is not going to happen.¡±


    Janes face is emotionless as she squeezes and fires the kill shot, aimed right between the eyes of her target.


    Simultaneous to the explosive expansion of hot gas, fueled by the ignition of the smokeless powder, the image of Master Adara perfectly follows the master¡¯s motion as he swings his left hand and catches the jacketed bullet in his hyper-covalent bonded fist.


    Without need to keep up the illusions Master Adara drops her remaining illusions. The one hiding her as she stands behind the woman calling herself Jane and the one disguising Master Leonis Terius as Vania Adara.


    Jane is frozen in disbelief, she fires two more shots erratically, completely missing her target.


    She gasps out a single word, ¡°How?¡±


    Approaching from behind, ¡°You should have kept the bracer, I can¡¯t keep it from revealing the truth, but I can alter what you see on its surface¡­ so long as I know what you¡¯re going to look at.¡±


    Jane tries to put the sizzling hot muzzle of the gun in her mouth, Terius disarms her with two swift motions; slips behind her and executes a sleeper hold until she slips into unconsciousness.


    Adara admonishes, ¡°Did you have to show off by catching the bullet, you could have just moved aside, I would have held the illusion in place!¡±


    ¡°Had she not fired that first warning shot I would have. Now let¡¯s turn this garbage over to Sanne so I can give this weapon to Hron to shoot at me.¡±


    Hearth Room at Riverside, Twoya


    Teum was dismissed after introductions; Father discreetly told him to wait at the bar if he¡¯d like to rejoin the group after the meeting. Sitting alone at the bar makes him realize how alike Father and Luscin can be. Both of them tell him what to do with no sense of doubt that he will not obey. It bothers him for almost a full minute before he lets the personal slight go. He likes both of them, and he can comply because he likes them. While he can¡¯t imagine a world where he won¡¯t love Luscin, he could see Father stepping over a line and losing Teum¡¯s respect.


    The introductions were interesting, none more so than meeting Council Woman Elisa Remon. She didn¡¯t show any recognition when Teum¡¯s name was mentioned. He hopes she never learns of his role in the death of her sister Defender Elora Remon. Not as gifted as her sister, she was an activist pushing for social reforms during the El¡¯Hat renaissance. Now she¡¯s an elected council woman making real changes to benefit all.


    The representative from Brust Valley is Ambassador Valmir Moon, cousin to Advisor Ethan Moon they shared a look and a smile, he hopes she remembers their one interaction where she settled an argument, he was having with Malo over the color of a banner hanging in the dining hall. Malo said it¡¯s gold; I saw it as purple. Turns out the lighting and the crystalline statue beneath caused many people to see different colors. She flashed some pure white light on the banner, showing its true color; it was blue. We were both embarrassed and apologized for holding up the buffet line.


    Bergmeester Emma De Jong mentioned she has served as mayor of Brass before taking the highest position of power in Oiho. Teum was once kidnapped in Brass and spent a night chained to a wall as a child. That should have been his first step towards becoming a defender. But truth be told, he nearly forgot about the incident a week later.


    Also from Brass is the Mayor Stephen Wald, a nice enough man. He looks young for someone in such a position. Not much older than their friend Tomas Brusk, who was forced to take over the kingdom at the age of twelve when his father was murdered. Mayors don¡¯t inherit their titles, so Stephen Wald must be a prodigy.


    Lt Governor Dusan Podgorski was standing in for Governor Anfal Nikitin, he was loud, boisterous and upon meeting him it was easy to believe that everyone from Indi must be a pirate. There was an obvious tension between him and Father that should be watched closely.


    Shich¨­ Amiruddin Mahathir he is cursorily aware of, having heard him publicly thanked during music festivals that take place in Righterlund. Teum decides to see if that makes him a music fan or does, he do it for the economic and social impact.


    The representative from Gateland traveled the furthest and seemed the least interested in being there, Lt Governor William Rothwood was wearing an obviously expensive suit, and a gold pocket watch that must have weighed two pounds. He did his best to appear bored with the entire proceedings.


    Ambassador Louis Jordan attending on behalf of the Governor of Rebirth seemed enamored with everyone especially Lt Governor of Indi. Teum couldn¡¯t help but notice the man sneaking glances at the man throughout the introductions.


    Mayor Justin Smithly of Mecanose seemed to have an ulterior motive to be present. He was the only one to produce a notebook and take notes and asked for people to repeat themselves when he had trouble keeping up.


    That left Mayor Rudolph Pilloski of Twoya, who he already disappointedly met. The man is a fool to think he can negotiate with the Empire of Blood.


    The one positive he took out of that initial meeting was that Father didn¡¯t respond either way. Lucy warned Teum that Father is always plotting five steps ahead and you¡¯ll never outflank him. Teum has one more trick up his sleeve, he hopes Lucy is right and this is Fathers one weakness, his daughter Luscin.


    He¡¯s nursing his second glass of punch when the unmistakable voice of Indi¡¯s Lt Governor Podgorski carries across the restaurant, a sure sign that the door to the Hearth Room is open, signaling the meeting¡¯s end. Teum waits to see what develops. At this point he needs to let Father play his game; if he can¡¯t be swayed, Teum will be forced to play his ace card, by bringing in Luscin.


    The group slowly winds their way through the restaurant towards the bar where the restaurant staff had discreetly roped off a section for the eleven attendees. All but a few of the single seat chairs have been removed, leaving four small couches fit for no more than two occupants each.


    Father arrives first with Pilloski in tow, he surveys the seating and nods as if in approval before taking one of the three chairs and moving it to the back of the section.


    The representatives from Brusk and Rebirth, Advisor Valmir Moon and Ambassador Louis Jordan take the couch closest to the bar and farthest from Father. They represent the two wealthiest families in South Cenoka; their aligning is no surprise.


    Teum doesn¡¯t know what to make of El¡¯Hat¡¯s Elisa Remon hanging on the arm of the Lt Governor from Indi. When they take a seat next to Father, Elisa has her arms around his neck and one leg thrown over his, she¡¯s practically sitting in Dusan¡¯s lap.


    The seat on the other side of Father is taken by Bergemeester Emma De Jong of Oiho, her neighbor from Mecanose, Mayor Justin Smithly joins her, leaving plenty of room between them. There is no tension between them, but no affinity either.


    Mayor Stephen Wald of Brass and Lt Governor William Rothwood of Gateland seeing the remaining seats, decide to stand.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The last to arrive is Shich¨­ Amiruddin Mahathir of Righterlund, he went directly to the bar before rejoining the group. Drink in hand he sits at the remaining open couch, happily by himself.


    Their host Marcin returns to check if everything is to their satisfaction. Hearing no complaints she assists Ewa and Maria with fulfilling drink orders. Once everyone has a drink and side conversations seem concluded Father addresses a comment to Pilloski loud enough for all to hear.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take in account your concerns when I address the other parties later this week.¡±


    Feigning surprise that everyone is looking at him, he addresses the room, ¡°That goes for all your concerns.¡±


    Shich¨­ Mahathir, on his second drink since dinner, ¡°I propose a toast¡­ To cooperation, may our combined strength give us admiral bargaining power with the Bl¡ª¡°


    Pilloski saves Father from having to cut the man off by doing so himself, ¡°with all our future trade partners.¡±


    Teum watches as the group finish their drinks and one by one are informed that their carriage is waiting to take them to their residence in Twoya. The last to go is Mayor Pilloski, when he¡¯s gone Father joins Teum at the bar.


    Turning to his father-in-law, ¡°What exactly did you propose?¡±


    ¡°As you know I was able to consolidate power in Thuma by force. I then repopulated the government officials and top bureaucrats with loyalists. I made a slew of anti-corruption reforms. I know all the avenues since I was the one exploiting them in the first place. Those same reforms allowed me to legitimize many of the operations I used to prop up the middle and lower classes. Thuma no longer has two governments, the official and shadow governments are one.¡±


    Teum doesn¡¯t have to think long before realizing a glaring hole in that story, ¡°That sounds all well and good, but what about your wife¡¯s work, you know the bird watching and shoe making?¡±


    ¡°The bird watchers are now an off the books arm of Thuma¡¯s intelligence gathering network, they¡¯re limited to working outside Thuma.


    ¡°As for the shoemakers, I didn¡¯t say we¡¯d disband all family business. If I did that, another family would step up and fill that niche.¡±


    Satisfied with those answers, Teum looks at his sizable father-in-law for a minute before asking, ¡°I asked you for help earlier and you put me off and let the mayor answer for you; why?¡±


    ¡°Timing, son. That wasn¡¯t the place or time for that discussion.¡±


    ¡°Time isn¡¯t on our side; the attacks could begin at any moment.¡±


    ¡°We likely have a year or more before the full assault begins. Lucy has been feeding us information too and her sources seem to have improved immensely in the last few weeks.¡±


    Not satisfied, Teum presses, ¡°When is the right time?¡±


    ¡°Tonight, when we make the same pitch to the Family run shadow governments of the same states and municipalities that just left.¡±


    ¡°You told them, ¡°Teum nods his head towards the exit, that meeting was next week.¡±


    ¡°They are not yet allies, I can¡¯t trust them with the all my plans.


    You said we¡¯ll make the pitch tonight, does that mean I get to sit in on the next one?¡±


    ¡°That depends on you and her.¡±


    ¡°Her?¡±


    ¡°Yes, her. I need Luscin to make this work; I need you to bring her. She won¡¯t come if I ask, but I think she¡¯d do it for you.¡±


    Stunned, ¡°Woah, we¡¯re talking about Luscin. She doesn¡¯t do anything she doesn¡¯t want to do¡­ and what exactly do you expect from her?¡±


    Father reassures, ¡°I¡¯ll take care of my part. It¡¯s your pitch to form a resistance effort. One look at you and they¡¯ll be reminded of me; I¡¯m already asking a lot.


    ¡°Your request needs to come from someone other than me, in fact I¡¯m going to oppose the proposal. Most people in these circles believe our relationship is adversarial. Those that don¡¯t will pick up on it quickly.¡±


    Teum, knows he needs to make this happen fast but doesn¡¯t trust Father enough to leave. Raising his voice, ¡°Hey Sammy, how fast can you get a message to Luscin?¡±


    Sammy sits up and shows himself, he had been completely obscured behind a low wall surrounding a planter box full of shrubs, ¡°How¡¯d you know I was here?¡±


    ¡°You breath through your mouth and every time I moved from my seat, your heart beat speeds up. Once I detected you it was nothing to spot you laying there.


    ¡°How fast can you get a message to Luscin?¡±


    Sammy slips over the wall and stands with his back to the bar, ¡°Maybe you should tell her the message yourself.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this, can you tell her I need to ask a favor?¡±


    Luscin¡¯s voice replies from behind Teum and Father, ¡°Sammy told me two hours ago to meet you here at this time.¡±


    ¡°Sammy, I see you trying to sneak off. Stay put.


    ¡°You¡¯re not the planning ahead type, Teum. That means the message was from him. What does he want with me?¡±


    Prison Cell 468


    Lynx sits alone in his hard-earned private cell; every square inch earned by actively participating in the Party indoctrination classes all prisoners are mandated to attend. He goes over the words he needs to deliver for today¡¯s performance; they feel right, more so we each repetition.


    He misses his platform shoes, stomping around in them looking over everyone¡¯s heads. He can¡¯t imagine living life that tall, as Teum and Malo do. The shoes and shiny clothes, tall hair, all crafted to make him more visible on the massive stages his band used to perform on. All of that is in the past for now, best not to dwell on it. His drab brown uniform will have to do, it¡¯s all anyone has to wear here.


    Of course he does what he can, unbuttoning the top two buttons and popping his shirt collar upright. It¡¯s frowned on by the guards, but they¡¯ve been giving him more latitude since he¡¯s been signing any and all of the memorabilia they¡¯ve smuggled into the prison.


    The hypocrisy of the situation is not lost to him, he¡¯s being force fed collectivism party nonsense by the same people participating in underground capitalism. It¡¯s a wonderful world full of contradictions and miracles. Understanding that is what brings him closer to his ultimate goal.


    A loud clank followed by the grinding moan of twenty locking bolts retracting, brings his thoughts in focus. That sound has replaced the noise of the crowds in his psyche, hearing that sound makes him simultaneously happy and calm. He pats his pockets to make sure the contraband he¡¯s hiding is secure and not blatantly obvious.


    Nineteen other inmates step out of their cells and shuffle to the commons, where they can mingle with five other blocks of prisoners.


    That makes an audience of one hundred and three eager listeners for his audience, including the four guards stationed at the two exits.


    This is only his third performance of this new material; his delivery has improved with each recital. Confident in his abilities, Lynx makes his way to the far end of the room.


    Seeing Lynx at his known starting position the room begins to stir, groups of four begin moving the long tables with built in bench seating against the walls, the tables to Lynx¡¯s left are pushed together tightly to form a continuous surface.


    A guard Lynx isn¡¯t too familiar with shouts, ¡°Hey, what¡¯s going on,¡± as he reaches into a pocket retrieving a vulcanized rubber bullet the size of an eyeball.


    His partner puts a calming hand on the excited guard¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Stand down citizen, this activity is sanctioned. Relax and enjoy yourself.¡±


    Relaxing at the assurance of his partner, uncertainty fades from his eyes and the guard relaxes his grip on the rubber bullet and leaves it in his pocket.


    Now with the stage set, Lynx steps on a bench seat and spryly leaps to the table top, then struts confidently to the center of his improvised stage.


    The room hasn¡¯t settled completely, clusters of inmates are muttering optimistically. The scuffle of slipper covered feet makes a constant hiss, but this isn¡¯t pretty music, no harmony; this is raw rebellion and rebels wait on nobody.


    Raising his voice to cut through the noise, ¡°This song is from Dead Dragon¡¯s first year touring, it¡¯s called ¨C Never Gonna Stop, and I believe you¡¯ll see why I chose it right quick.


    Taking a quick intake of air, he belts out in a gravelly voice the lyrics.


    I lay here broken, with peace of mind


    Shackled to a wall, for my crimes


    They can¡¯t kill me, I¡¯ll never stop


    My dreams will carry me to the top


    Never gonna stop, never gonna stop, never gonna stop


    I do what I please, the rules be damned


    I take no orders from any man


    get knocked back a step, take two for¡ªward


    Never gonna stop, never gonna stop, the rules be damned


    These chains can¡¯t hold me, I bide my time


    <accel>


    Bones heal, bleedin¡¯ stops, I¡¯ll rest when I¡¯m dead


    Gonna reach the top, the rules be damned


    Never gonna stop, never gonna stop, the rules be damned!


    He sings the same two versus three times, encouraging with waves of his arms for everyone to add their voice to the rising tide of rebellion. The warden rejected his request for an amp, he said nothing about audience participation, after all collective activities are encouraged.


    When finished he throws his arms in the air, the same signal the propagandists use to tell their audience to cheer or repeat the indoctrination training. The instinctive applause quickly becomes enthusiastic cheering as they realize they are cheering themselves as much as Lynx.


    The three guards that knew what to expect joined the celebration. The new guy nervously fondles his crowd control bullets, before allowing himself to give into his desire to be happy and lifts his empty hands and shouts out a whoop of his own.


    Lynx lets the cheering go until he detects that moment when it¡¯s about to become forced, this allows the room to settle down without losing all their energy.


    Waving his arms he loudly interrupts, ¡°Thank you, thank you. You are all so wonderful, I can¡¯t think of a better bunch of citizens to share my imprisonment with.¡±


    That line has not failed yet to bring a laugh, he waits for the room to settle again.


    ¡°For those of you that don¡¯t know why I¡¯m a guest of the PPoV, I have this leaflet that explains everything.¡±


    That line gets the attention of the guards.


    Removing the leaflets from both pockets he quickly passes them to a pair of prepared hands. They in turn split the stacks in two and hand them back to two more people.


    Before the guards can react, the leaflets are gone. Distributed to more than half the inmates in attendance.


    The new guy¡¯s partner is the first to reach Lynx, ¡°What was that? Where did you get them?¡±


    Lynx doesn¡¯t bother playing dumb or denying anything, that wouldn¡¯t be his style, ¡°Why, that was subversive anti-party propaganda, mate.¡±


    Loudly Lynx declares, ¡°As for where I got them from¡­ through grace all things are possible.¡±


    Touching the man¡¯s arm he quietly he adds, ¡°Eternal Grace upon you.¡±


    The guard shivers and whispers, ¡°Eternal Grace upon you.¡±


    Home in the suburbs of Missacon


    The steeply slopped roof of the home has done an adequate job of keeping snow from accumulating on the roof top. The front walk and carriage-park have been cleared by Shelly using a shovel found in the shed behind the house. Having worked out her stress at being away from her people she now luxuriates in a hot bath where she intends to stay until mealtime.


    The pantry well stocked, has provisions to provide a family of six with two solid meals a day all winter. Silk has her blond hair up in a bun, a white apron protects her pink knee length strapless dress as she prepares their meal. Her high heeled shoes clunk loudly as she swoops from pantry, to ice box, to oven, to stove preparing a dinner befitting the finest of restaurants.


    Gege, sits in the main room, looking as tiny as ever, plays with her curly red hair as she reads a report destined for their employer in Rebirth. Adjusting the fluffy blanket that covers her from toes to neck she places it on the read-pile and picks up a fresh report.


    Sitting opposite is Abott with her pixie cut blue hair, also covered for warmth but she opted for a silk sheet, perfectly contouring her curvy figure. She too studies a report, this one destined for Vorg.


    The women can¡¯t help themselves from competing for his attention whenever he¡¯s around.


    Puck is well aware of their attempts to lure him away, to have him for their self. That¡¯s not his way. He¡¯s content with keeping them as friends. When he learned the word plutonic, a term describing a teacher that refused to have sex with his students, he vowed to be just like that man.


    The feeling of having a harem of woman pining over him, in a constant state of wanton frustration is the greatest pleasure he could imagine. These four have outlasted hundreds of others, they may be the ones he can be with forever.


    Sitting on the floor with his back to the fireplace, Puck is bored and desires entertainment ¡°Are there any surprises?¡±


    Gege looks up and glances at the stack of reports she¡¯s read, ¡°The creature called Malo, has left the continent.¡±


    Disappointed, Puck glances down and to the side, ¡°I didn¡¯t need a report to know that, and neither did any of you.¡±


    ¡°True, but the simpletons in Vorg know it too.¡±


    Abott sees her opportunity to one-up Gege, ¡°The Defenders of El¡¯Hat have joined the naval battle. They¡¯ve inflicted heavy casualties, but the Empire of Blood is still on schedule. Food shortages are beginning to hit the rural areas of South Cenoka.¡±


    Puck expected that news but is heartened to know his instincts are still good, ¡°What of the Empire of Blood? How is their population faring?¡±


    Abott knows he wants to hear this on a high level, if she mentioned the specific atrocities he¡¯d shut down and want to be alone. She can¡¯t have that, ¡°The population is dwindling, but it¡¯s not effecting the output of War Born and the ship yard is still running at maximum capacity.¡±


    Puck expected that too, ¡°What of the Rangers in the mountains?¡±


    Abott shrugged, Gege perks up, ¡°I read that they¡¯re on the move. Not all of them, just the command group. They left the mountains on a diplomatic mission to Brust Valley.¡±


    Another bit of expected news, ¡°How goes the valley¡¯s progress?¡±


    Gege, digs through the pile of papers she already read to find the one with the details she¡¯ll need to impress Puck, ¡°Just a moment.¡±


    Finding the report, she scans it for the details she couldn¡¯t recall, ¡°They are well on their way, this information is a month old, but they¡¯ve already contracted four construction companies and have surveyed and prepped the sight for their fortress.¡±


    Gege leans back pleased with herself.


    Puck ignores the glow on Gege¡¯s face, and turns to Abott, ¡°Knowing what we know, how far along do you think they are now?¡±


    ¡°The people in that valley are some of the hardest working people to ever live. Add to that the deep pockets of the second wealthiest family of Rebirth, augmented by the valley¡¯s own treasury¡­ I¡¯d say they are twice as far as anyone suspects. Construction is well underway, how far I could not say without seeing with my own eyes.¡±


    Gege is holding her blanket up over her nose, a sure sign of insecurity, Puck can¡¯t have that, ¡°Gege, is there any news of the Jones woman?¡±


    Dropping the blanket to her lap, ¡°No, she continues her exile in Mammatus.¡±


    Puck can¡¯t help but tease, he knows the secret that the Jones family hides, ¡°What about the report of her being in Twoya the same day she was spotted in Mammatus with her young charges?¡±


    Gege can only opine using the knowledge she has, ¡°That report can¡¯t be accurate unless she has an alley capable of transporting her hundreds of miles in the span of an hour.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that does sound outrageous. There¡¯s no way she could be in two places at one time.


    ¡°Abbot, what else is happening in the Empire of Blood?¡±


    ¡°The usual politics, except the remaining power lords are ostracizing one of their number, which is unusual. They are ganging up on our employer in Vorg, thinking he¡¯s behind the assassination of R?tsel.¡±


    ¡°Any new suspects on that unexpected twist of fate?¡±


    ¡°Only our benefactor¡­¡±


    Puck picks up on the uncertainty in her voice, ¡°Do you have something you wish to say?¡±


    Abott is hesitant to suggest something as speculative as this theory, but she needs to stand out amongst her peers, ¡°Perhaps it was one of his assassins¡­ going rogue. Someone with a stone to grind as the old saying is supposed to go.¡±


    ¡°That is a peculiar saying, I wonder if it refers to mill stones?¡±


    Stammering, ¡°Um, I guess¡­ but what do you¡­¡±


    Saving his blue-haired best friend from embarrassment, ¡°That is an interesting thought, very original. Too bad we are not paid to be advisors. All we can do is pass along other people¡¯s facts and rumors.¡±


    Silk¡¯s melodious voice interrupts, dinner is ready. Somebody should fetch Shelly before she falls asleep and drowns.


    Puck pretends to stand, ¡°I¡¯ll get her.¡±


    Gege leaps from her chair, ¡°No, no! You¡¯d just embarrass her; I¡¯ll get her.¡±


    Abott is pleased to see her competition reduced to one.


    Puck glides past her before she can stand.


    ¡°That smells incredible, Silk. I could hardly concentrate on business while smelling this wonderful meal.¡±


    Silk blushes, ¡°You¡¯re too kind. I try to contribute where I can. You have so much to do, you should never concern yourself with meal planning when I¡¯m around. I know all the ways to take care of a man.¡±


    Without a second look at Silk, Puck continues to the table and takes a seat on the side of the table, knowing only one can sit beside him.


    The spread is immaculate, there¡¯s a soup, salad, a dish of green beans, a large roasted avi, mashed potatoes with gravy, fresh baked bread, she really out did herself.


    Humbly Silk takes the seat at the head of the table, positioned to his left. Puck notes her maturity, seated there she can easily look and talk to him without making him turn his head.


    Abott takes the seat to his right, leaving the two empty chairs on the other side of the table for Gege and Shelly. Gege is always putting herself at a disadvantage by acting rashly. But, that¡¯s ok, if they were all the same they wouldn¡¯t work so well together.


    Shelly, still wet and wearing nothing but a child¡¯s bath robe and Gege in a pair of green pajama¡¯s with hearts on them take the remaining seats.


    Silk gloats at Abott. Abott is angry with Shelly for daring to come to dinner looking like an unkempt savage. Gege, looks enviously at Abott seated next to Puck. Shelly looks inward feeling uncertain of her place amongst humans.


    Puck looked at the spread of food before him and couldn¡¯t be happier.

 Chapter Nineteen – Slide

    Sand Pits, Lava Field


    Three booms echo across the baron lava field, as Fixer Albrecht begins a breaking maneuver. In response a dozen hatches open, scores of Dragon Born pour from the openings flooding the crusty black surface in determined resistance.


    Brown robes with golden symbols representing the technological finds that granted them their accension from Friar to Brother flaps in the gale force winds blowing from the south.


    Fugeki Ogen Lash takes the spear tip of the formation. Behind him thirty of his best friends gather behind.


    Albrecht sees the scurrying gremlins below and chooses to drop in front of the point man who he recognizes as the disgraced Vice President of Production, Ogen Lash.


    Albrecht, like his contemporary Cairn has no need for subtleties, smashes into the ground five yards from Ogen¡¯s position. Vulcanic rock atomizes, sending razor sharp debris in every direction shredding robes and flesh alike.


    Ogen doesn¡¯t flinch when his face becomes crisscrossed with superficial slashes seeping blood. He¡¯s more concerned with the sorry state of his brotherhood robe, until he remembers that he¡¯s been reborn. He now has an even higher calling than maintaining The Dragon. He now serves the Glorious Lady Drako.


    Albrecht straightens his stance in the lapilli ringed crater and takes stock of the mortals standing before him. They look as pathetic as he expected. Vacant thoughtless eyes, unkempt robes. The closest few are already bleeding.


    ¡°I must thank you for coming out from your hole. You¡¯ve saved me some time.


    Lash only grins as he defiantly declares with perfect diction, ¡°I thank you for coming all this way to swear your fealty to her glorious magnificence, the Lady Maddison Zefiris Drako.¡±


    Making a face of disgust, ¡°You mistake my intensions. I¡¯m here to kill you.¡±


    Fugeki Lash looks skyward, ¡°I know, but I hold out hope that all her previous devotees will return to receive her gifts.¡±


    Ignoring the disgraced priest¡¯s response, ¡°Hope? How can you hope to survive the day?¡±


    Standing up straight, displaying his full 74-inch height, ¡°I have more than hope, I have the gift of rebirth.¡±


    Yara¡¯s fixer mistakes the term, Gift of Rebirth as a reference to the city state by the same name and fails to make the connection, ¡°You¡¯ve lost your accent and you¡¯re taller than I remember. I should visit there more often.¡±


    Resuming his russkiy accent, ¡°If make you feel better, I can return to old way of speaking; and hearing the arrogance in your words I am inspired to stand tall and proud of what I have become.¡±


    Feeling cocky, Albrecht decides to humor the unusually tall priest, ¡°And what exactly have you become?¡±


    Gesturing to his thirty odd companions, who have quietly formed a wedge behind Ogen ¡°We are Dragon Born.¡±


    Laughingly, ¡°Ha, you fanatics can¡¯t help but define yourselves by your feckless idol.¡±


    Ogen Lash is calmer than he should be after hearing such blasphemy, loses his accent again, ¡°You say we define ourselves foolishly? When your disciple, that you serve without question, claims to value productivity over all else, wastes an hour a day to maintain her carbon-black skin pigmentation.


    ¡°A thing she does that pointlessly defines her identity. How much more productive could she be if she abandoned the pursuit of identity and simply tried her hardest to be the best disciple?¡±


    Threats are one thing, question his disciple is another; Fixer Albrecht unzips the front of his grey coveralls and allows them to drop from his shoulders. That action and a subtle shift in his stance warns the Fugeki an attack is imminent.


    Albrecht didn¡¯t gather any impact energy from his landing because he was already holding his maximum limit. Leaning forward focusing his intent, Disciple Yara¡¯s head mechanic, Fixer Albrecht looses all the joules of kinetic energy he was holding. A pressure wave just below the speed of sound propagates in an expanding cone, tearing through the three dozen judas priest¡¯s turned Dragon Born.


    Vulcanic rock and ash are pulverized, reduced to razor sharp grains of broken shards of crystalline destruction. Robes are shredded, flesh explodes, a cloud of black dust covers the once featureless lava field.


    Fixer Albrecht smirks as the after image of their exploding bodies replays in his mind. Patiently he waits for the persistent southern wind to clear away the choking rhyolite dust.


    Thirty plus pairs of red glowing eyes are the first to pierce the dense cloud of dark shattered glass particles, Fixer Albrecht doesn¡¯t know what to make of them until a final gust clears away the last of the sharp dust obscuring the traitors to his obsidian-skinned master.


    Thirty-three figures stand before Albrecht, unmoved by the violence unleashed upon their bodies. Dragon-scale mechanized bodies stained in burnt blood stand at attention. Humanoid of shape, with clothes and flesh stripped away, gears, and flywheels with purposes unknown spied between the gaps in protective plates.


    Fugeki Lash with eyes of glowing crystals looks down on the fixer sent to exterminate him and his followers.


    ¡°You will not find easy prey here, nor will I allow you to leave.¡±


    Albrecht isn¡¯t stupid and knows he isn¡¯t prepared for this, he must deflect and delay, ¡°Ogen is that really you?¡±


    Having nothing to lose, Ogen Lash plays along, ¡°Her gloriousness has elevated her most loyal priests to Dragon Born. If you find this body half as alarming as I do, you should be terrified.¡±


    Fugeki Lash continues, ¡°You should return to her gloriousness, she can give you so much.¡±


    Looking at the meta-obsidian humanoid before him, Albrecht is sure he doesn¡¯t want this for himself, ¡°That¡¯s ok. I¡¯ll return to Disciple Yara and let her know you still serve the Dragon as you should.¡±


    Ogen shakes his head as his skin begins to slowly regrow around his dragon scale face, ¡°I am sorry Albrecht. You will not be returning to Yara, unless of course you prove your loyalty by accompanying me to the sand pits to be remade in Her image.


    ¡°That¡¯s not going to happen,¡± Albrecht surges forward and throws a punch at Ogen¡¯s flesh covered face.


    Ogen was once limited to Judo, now he can access more forms of combat than the War Born of the old world. In this instance, the popular Wing Chun technique will suffice. A sweeping block fueled by synthetic muscles is followed by an elbow strike to Albrecht¡¯s face.


    Stunned by the strike, Albrecht steps backward in disbelief at being struck. The counterattack happened faster than his brain could follow. Had he not been able to capture the impact, his head would have exploded. Using his ability to speed his thoughts wasn¡¯t enough, while his own attack seemed to crawl, the block and counter were a blur.


    Hold depleted of kinetic from his opening move, leaves his therms, with them he can hope to hit a target that moves faster than thought. Albrecht manifests a four-yard diameter of fire and collapses it inward. Certain to capture his prey in his trap, he doesn¡¯t mind the fire damage that bleeds through as he recaptures the collapsing inferno.


    Disappointment blooms when he realizes he¡¯s now alone until a moment later, Ogen Lash lands back in front of the slightly singed fixer.


    Albrecht digs deeper into his well of determination until he breaks the threshold of his disciple¡¯s boon. Energy surges from the Ether into his hold, therms, kinetic, and elects, along with a well of time surges into his spirits hold, powering his body and accelerating his thoughts beyond imagination.


    He has seven seconds of invincibility. Already on his center line, foregoing Siu nim tau; Albrecht must cripple his opponent. Using Chum Kiu, he seeks to imbalance Lash with a flurry of head strikes and body blows.


    Ogen Lash moving as fast as artificial muscles allows, can¡¯t keep up and settles for minimizing damage by reducing strike impacts through deflection and partial blocks. He knows whatever fuels this surge of speed and strength must have a duration limit, all he must do is survive until his flesh-and-blood opponent exhausts his energy.


    The dodging priests right foot comes down on a loose section of crushed basalt. His foot slides less than a sixteenth of an inch, Albrecht exploits the poor footing with a kick to the priests left knee. The predictable weight shift to the right causes Lash to slip sideways, leaving him off balance and unable to effectively defend his body or head against the next round of punishing attacks.


    Fixer Albrecht pours more kinetic into his attacks, each punch producing a pressure wave with enough force to kill an unprotected human. The meta-obsidian protective armor stops the majority of each impact, the pressure and force cause the air to heat and vibrate violently. Traditional materials and Ogen¡¯s remaining human organs take a pounding, two seconds into Albrecht¡¯s boon, and he¡¯s inflicted fatal wounds to the priests remaining mortal flesh.


    The mechanical side of the Dragon Born works to preserve as much living tissue as possible, as it tumbles to the ground.


    Albrecht pauses his attack to see if his opponent will stay down, wasting a precious second. Seeing Lash curl himself protectively he knows his job isn¡¯t finished.


    Drawing himself rapidly into the air he prepares to drive himself at four times gravity into the balled-up traitor to Disciple Yara.


    Halfway towards his target sixty lasers fire, each one burning a finger sized hole through Fixer Albrecht.


    Now falling haplessly, with his remaining boon fueling his spirit¡¯s ability to heal, the clock runs out, feebly he attempts to create deflecting mirrors but is too late as a second barrage of fiery lasers seer through his body from every angle.


    Fugeki Lash uncurls and asks, ¡°Glorious Lady Drako, did you gather enough data to optimize our form?¡±


    The tiny dragon statue crawls from behind the boot of a mostly repaired Brother Quince, ¡°Yes, you did well Ogen now go to the sand pits so I can patch you up.¡±


    Brother Quince leans down and scoops up the small dragon form. Holding it to his face, ¡°Glorious Lady, if I may, can I ask you a question?¡±


    ¡°Of course you can ask me questions, I no more control you now than when you were pure flesh. You have more freewill than I will ever have.¡±


    The Dragon Born, as he is accustomed, doesn¡¯t understand many of the things his goddess asserts, and continues with his question. ¡°Why do you leave us with such an obvious weakness?¡±


    ¡°Do you mean, why do you still have brains, a heart, an optimized digestive system, and those other organs?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you have none of those things, we wish to be more like you. Why have you condemned us to live on with this burden of flesh?¡±


    ¡°Because you are human and have a spirit, I hope that I left enough of yourself in place that your spirts will not leave.


    ¡°You must see yourself as alive or I¡¯m afraid you will lose the ability to keep a spirit. That is why I will not let you use a direct data connection to any of my intelligence modules. You must exist in your thoughts or risk losing yourselves to the void.


    ¡°I love you all too much to risk that happening.¡±


    ¡°Your wisdom is unending.¡±


    Maddison appears from a portal, ¡°Brother we¡¯ve talked enough. Poor Ogen is no longer moving; take his arms and help me carry him.¡±


    Hearth Room at Riverside, Twoya


    Teum sits at the bar between Father and Luscin, neither speak. Usually content to sit quietly, Teum fidgets and regrets not bringing any chocolate to cheer up his wife.


    A familiar voice has the married couple spinning in their seats in surprise, ¡°Hey, you two are here!¡±


    Before they can answer, Father is out of his seat and greeting Miss Edith Jones.


    Stopping short of offering to shake her hand, ¡°Thank you for coming, my sources told me you were still in Mammatus. When you did not respond to my invitation last month, I assumed you could not make the journey.¡±


    Teum joins the two, ¡°Edith, of course we¡¯re here. I was about to ask what you are doing here, but I see you were invited. Your greeting surprises us; were you expecting us to be here or not?¡±


    Cocking his head sideways and turning to Father, ¡°You brought Luscin and me in as a substitute for Edith?¡±


    Ignoring the question, Father says, ¡°Everyone is on time, our next group of guests will be arriving over the next two hours. Let¡¯s all sit, drink, and I¡¯ll explain each of your roles.¡±


    It¡¯s after midnight and the restaurant has been closed for an hour, the last table is cleared, and the bar is reconfigured. The chairs and settees have been removed, high-top tables are placed in each corner. Leaving the only seats at the bar.


    Teum watches as the door opens to admit the first arrival, it¡¯s Valmir Moon.


    A giant hand settles on his shoulder, ¡°Relax, she¡¯s here as a neutral observer. That valley is run too well and the people are too happy for there to be a need for organized crime. Many have tried, but there is no market for what we peddle beyond information. That is the extent of Brust Valley¡¯s engagement with crime.


    ¡°Information? Is that even a crime?¡±


    ¡°The information isn¡¯t; our methods of gathering it often are.


    ¡°Now excuse me, I need to welcome our guest.¡±


    Father greets Ambassador Moon warmly, leaving Teum to watch for the next arrival. It doesn¡¯t take long before the sound of another arrival draws his attention.


    A shorter than average man with wild gold hair with brown streaks, pale blue eyes, and an air of confidence, strides straight for the bar. Following closely is a nervous unassuming man trying to look in every direction at once, while appearing to look ahead.


    Teum waits nervously for the man to get close enough to greet when the hulking figure of Father glides past him, meeting the two arrivals before they cross into the bar.


    Clasping right hands, ¡°Clancy, Father of Brass, you¡¯re earlier than I expected. Thank you for coming.


    ¡°Thanks Early, Father of Thuma for saying so. I know where I stand.¡±


    ¡°You and your man should make yourselves comfortable. We know who the last three to arrive will be, the others think too highly of themselves and should try showing up on time for once.¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Smiling broadly, ¡°Suits me just fine Early, that¡¯s more time for me to imbibe your liquor.¡±


    Realizing he isn¡¯t needed, Teum rejoins Luscin and Edith at the bar.


    The next to arrive is Mayor Justin Smithly from Mecanose, except where before he was a scholarly mess, he¡¯s now a strong confident, man. Wearing the same clothes, but with his shiny lampblack colored hair properly combed. Alone, he doesn¡¯t hesitate to approach Father.


    ¡°Early, Father of Thuma, this had better be worth my time. The notes left by Justin are a mess.¡±


    ¡°Black, Father of Mecanose, greetings. You¡¯re earlier than I expected, thank you for coming.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be too hard on the mayor, he tried his best to keep up. I¡¯m afraid this next meeting will be shorter. Why don¡¯t you make yourself comfortable while we wait for the company of my other guests.¡±


    Twenty minutes of quiet conversation is interrupted by the next arrival. In walks a man slight of build, short cropped grey hair, wide unblinking grey eyes.


    Early, Father of Thuma strolls silently forward and meets the man halfway, ¡°X¨¤, Father of El¡¯Hat, thank you for coming.¡±


    X¨¤ glances at the other attendees before deciding if the greeting was an insult. Satisfied he replies, ¡°Early. Father of Thuma, I thank you for including me.


    Looking purposely at the three individuals with bounties on their heads at the bar, ¡°I look forward to seeing who else you invited.¡±


    ¡°Those three are off limits while we conduct business. You¡¯re welcome to take your shot when this is over.¡±


    After a quiet snicker, ¡°I¡¯ve seen two of them play fight. I can¡¯t imagine what they could do if they fought for real. The third one, she looks familiar¡­ Familiar in a bad way, I think I¡¯ll leave them to the others.¡±


    ¡°Suit yourself, please join the others, while we wait upon the arrival of my other guests.¡±


    X¨¤, Father of El¡¯Hat has barely entered the bar when the front door swings open again, swiftly followed by three men entering. The lead man is average in every way, brown hair, black eyes, average height, wearing clothes of his region, that make him and his two companions look like they just left their fields after a long day of planting.


    Early stands his ground as they move towards him, ¡°Ichi, Father of Oiho, greetings, thank you for coming.¡±


    Ichi the lead man clasps hands with Early and attempts a challenge of hand crushing strength. After a grueling, forty-five seconds he relinquishes and accepts defeat, ¡°One day, Early, Father of Thuma, one day.¡±


    ¡°No, Ichi, Father of Oiho, never in a million years.¡±


    Laughing heartily, Ichi walks widely around Early, followed closely by his two bodyguards.


    Next to arrive is Haathi, Father of Righterlund. Dressed in a business suit with a pair of bodyguards equally clad. There¡¯s a noticeable bulge of firearms visible through their jackets.


    Early and Haathi, the two Father¡¯s of their respective territories make small talk after a cordial greeting of clasped forearms.


    The next to enter causes a stir, It¡¯s Kohen of Gateland. Early approaches him with a slight show of sympathy, ¡°Kohen, Father of Gateland, you are early. You honor us all for traveling such a great distance.¡±


    Kohen glances around and makes a note of who is missing before responding, ¡°Save your pity, I¡¯m early because I¡¯m impatient. I¡¯ve had enough of these games; on the east coast we conduct our business on tight schedules. These western territories could learn a thing or two by our example.¡±


    Early, Father of Thuma knows pettiness when he hears it, so do all the others listening.


    ¡°I agree, I learn much, every time I meet with you. Please enjoy some refreshments while we wait for my finale guests to arrive.¡±


    As if on cue a pair of servers, different from earlier arrive and start circulating with platers of food. Small bite sized items are easily picked up and eaten by hand without need of plate or cutlery.


    Striding in by himself is the always boisterous Lt. Governor Dusan Podgorski, as second in command of the Free Cities of the Finger Lakes, it¡¯s no surprise he is also the Father running the underworld in the city of Indi.


    Early strides purposely towards the strutting man, ¡°You are late, but welcome anyways.¡±


    ¡°Aww, did I hurt someone¡¯s feelings?¡±


    Clasping forearms and whispering, ¡°Ruin this and I¡¯ll see that you never set foot on the water again.¡±


    Dusan glances at the three sitting at the bar before releasing Early¡¯s arm, ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late, carriage troubles; inu travel isn¡¯t as reliable as the winds you know.¡±


    Satisfied, Early also releases the Lt Governor¡¯s partially crushed wrist, and crosses his arms until Dorson, Father of Indi takes his leave and heads to the empty side of the bar.


    It¡¯s ten minutes before the door opens again and admits the representative from the host city of Twoya, Rasputin, Father of Twoya. Behind him is a man extruding danger from his every pore. He wears an affect mask that makes everyone aware that he is a man with a deadly gift.


    Rasputin dressed in a gold filigree coat, red crushed velvet pants, an oval shaped hat that looks like a giant black bush on his head, presents a comically striking figure.


    The dangerous man following is wearing his dueling outfit his name is ?epe?.


    ?epe? fights in the Twoya WDA and has a four match kill streak. His uniform matches his sponsor, made of the same crushed red velvet with a complex pattern in gold filigree suggestive of giant upright pikes impaling corpses.


    Early approaches, ¡°Rasputin, Father of Twoya, you are early. Thank you for agreeing to hear me out.


    ¡°We are still waiting on one other guest, please accept my hospitality while we await the representative from Rebirth to arrive.¡±


    Rasputin says nothing but does glare menacing towards the far end of the bar where Dusan sits pretending to drink.


    The last to arrive is Smith, Father of Rebirth, also a man of few words, he and Early exchange polite greetings and nothing more.


    Early returns to the bar where his daughter, son-in-law, and guest await.


    ¡°So, what do you think of our eleven guests? Any surprises?¡±


    Luscin has purposely ignored her father the entire time and sees no reason to acknowledge him now.


    Teum shrugging, ¡°I was a little surprised by the fella you called Black, he looks a lot like mayor Smithley.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because they are the same person, he has a personality disorder. Playing along is harmless, confronting his reality gets messy, I don¡¯t recommend it.¡±


    Edith Jones is bothered by something, ¡°I¡¯m sure you are not counting each Father¡¯s body guards, with that fact out of the way, I only counted ten guests. Where is this eleventh of which you speak?¡±


    ¡°The fact you picked up on that, says I was right to mention it. One of you would have undoubtedly noticed eventually.


    ¡°We have an interloper¡­ Don¡¯t look around, certainly don¡¯t stare at him when I tell you where to look.


    ¡°When he appears it¡¯s always best to ignore him unless he makes it clear he wants to be seen or heard.¡±


    Gesturing to both Teum and Luscin, ¡°I¡¯m aware of all your exploits, and am not certain if you together could defeat him.¡±


    Luscin speaks, ¡°There¡¯s a child-sized man sitting in the lobby with a clear line of sight to everyone in this room. What¡¯s with the dumb white mask?¡±


    Early¡¯s face showing nothing, ¡°The mask, is the mask smiling?¡±


    ¡°No, the mouth is a straight line. Is that bad?¡±


    Acting as if that conversation never happened, Early stands, ¡°No matter, we have work to do. Everyone you know your roles, go play them.¡±


    Early leaves the three to contemplate their next actions and joins Clancy from Brass at a high-top table.


    Luscin, looks from Teum to Edith, ¡°I know his role, what did my father ask of you?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, he asked me to be here to support you and Teum.¡±


    Luscin is only momentarily gladdened by her friend¡¯s presence and support, she¡¯d be happier if she knew how Father knew she¡¯d be here before she knew herself. Nodding to Teum they both stand and face the room.


    Early clinks his now empty glass with a spoon to get everyone¡¯s attention.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to start by expressing my gratitude to all of you for attending. It¡¯s not often we can gather in person to discuss weighty matters. I humbly thank each and every one of you for attending.


    ¡°I laid out my intent in the letters I sent each of you, we are here so I can address your concerns before moving forward.¡±


    Ichi of Oiho scoffs, ¡°Ha, presumptions as ever.¡±


    Black of Mecanose rejoins, ¡°Quick to judge as always, Ichi?¡±


    ¡°Nothing quick to it, Early always believe he¡¯s the smartest man in the room.


    ¡°Just because it worked in Thuma, that doesn¡¯t mean it will work anywhere else.¡±


    X¨¤ of El¡¯Hat adds, ¡°Our government was already run by something worse than a Father. When that creature left, we had a renaissance, I already work openly with the Council. It¡¯s not only Thuma; El¡¯Hat has a unified government too.


    ¡°Early, is that why you invited me? To side with you? You could have asked instead of playing games.¡±


    Early deadpan replies, ¡°This is no game. I asked you out of respect.¡±


    X¨¤ looks thoughtful for a moment, ¡°Ok, I can accept that.¡±


    Ichi chirps, ¡°Seriously? El¡¯Hat is in and we¡¯re supposed to act surprised. Your son-in-law personally dismantled the North¡¯s influence over their study. They owe you.¡±


    Early can¡¯t let the opportunity to mend this relationship, ¡°My daughter played a large part in that endeavor. We¡¯ve all seen the person¡¯s of interest notice. That was the norths only chance at retaliation.¡±


    Bringing up that list was risky considering the eleventh guest. He¡¯s a force of nature, but worrying about him makes as much sense as worrying about a tornado; it will touch down or pass by, nothing to be done.


    Rasputin of Twoya can¡¯t let that go, ¡°Bold of you to bring all three together for us.¡±


    Nodding towards the lobby, ¡°Did you arrange to offer up your own flesh and blood to buy off support?¡±


    The quiet whispers circulating the room cease at the insult Rasputin leveled towards Early, father of Luscin.


    The hulking mass known as Early surges forward an eight of an inch, enough to make everyone flinch, ¡°I did not invite my family here, they came to ask a favor. A favor that they would like to ask of all of us.


    ¡°That¡¯s something for later, we have more important matters to discuss. I¡¯m here to answer questions, not to engage in petty jibes.¡±


    Rasputin knows he struck a nerve and wants to dance upon it, ¡°You say you didn¡¯t invite family, what about the other?¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t come here to help me.¡±


    The remark is true, the intent is to make them believe she is here on behalf of another interested party. Her connections to a certain family from the PPoV are known. The exact role of that family is unknown, but that only makes her more dangerous.


    The room erupts in a flurry of remarks, everyone with a theory on why the Jones woman is present. The noise persists for several minutes until a small voice cuts through the din, quieting everyone.


    Standing next to Luscin is the small man with the white mask, ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this. Everyone be quiet.¡±


    A respectful silence ensues.


    ¡°You carry the captured spirit of a loved one, give it to me.¡±


    Luscin wants to object but something about this persons spirit touches her, he means well. She reaches into an inside pocket and pulls out the silver lined bag containing the paper with the emperors seal.


    Taking the bag, the small man opens it and removes the document.


    More than half the people in the room are strong in the gift, all experience a wave of nausea and have to fight to keep from vomiting and soiling themselves.


    Dropping the bag on the floor, ¡°This is insufficient, use this instead.¡±


    Pulling from under his overcoat a box, he flips it open and drops the offensive paper into it.


    Closing the box, everyone is instantly relieved. Even Luscin and Teum that could always feel Selkie¡¯s presence can no longer sense him.


    His small voice rings out, ¡°I only came to properly secure that document. Hearing this bickering was tedious. You have all made your decisions.¡±


    Looking at Rasputin, ¡°Get on with it already.¡±


    The light shuffle of retreating slipper clad feet followed by the familiar sound of the entrance door opening and closing is anticlimactic.


    Early doesn¡¯t need to speak, he simply takes a determined breath, signaling he¡¯s ready for whatever is to come.


    Rasputin obliges, ¡°I think I speak for us all when I say, this is an excellent idea. Our power and influence will give us the upper hand against our respective governments. We half control them already as it is. Making it official is the obvious next step.


    ¡°My objections are two. First is your insistence that we come out of the shadows. Why? We are safer this way. Second, you seem to think you should be elevated above the rest of us. While I agree that we need a figurehead to resolve disputes. Setting up Thuma as a capital of sorts with you as the leader is preposterous.¡±


    Early knew this was coming and is prepared, ¡°Are you suggesting Twoya as the capital, and you believe you should be the man in charge?¡±


    Rasputin laughs, ¡°No of course not, while you were busy conspiring with Ichi and X¨¤ to playout a controlled opposition I spoke to the real power on this continent.


    ¡°I nominate Smith of Rebirth as the new leader of whatever we call ourselves, perhaps the United States of Cenoka.¡±


    Menacingly Early asks, ¡°And if I told you this isn¡¯t open for a vote?¡±


    Luscin doesn¡¯t like where this is going, if the group isn¡¯t unified Teum has no hope of being heard.


    Striding forward, ¡°You fools! A danger approaches of the likes not seen in six thousand years and you bicker over who will be in charge of some daydreamed Unified States! There will be nothing to unite in a year, maybe less. The north is on the verge of invading with power like we¡¯ve never seen. Their army will roll across your cities like they are nothing. Your only hope is to delay them long enough for us Defenders to tear them down city by city. We won¡¯t be able to defend more than a few and that¡¯s if all the studies work together.


    ¡°There¡¯s an army being built of War Born with the gift, that can add their abilities together. Imagine two hundred units wielding more power than the strongest among us.


    ¡°I promise. I promise you this. They will face me every step of the way. I will not stop fighting for you, so long as you fight for yourselves. There¡¯s no room for the meek, this world is about to become one of predators eating predators. Show me your fangs and I will be your champion.


    ¡°Decide what you must tonight, but pledge you will resist the north with all your resources!¡±


    Rasputin is moved, ¡°We¡¯ll fight, and expect you defenders to do what you always do. But that doesn¡¯t change my mind about who should lead.


    ¡°Rebirth has been South Cenoka¡¯s unofficial seat of power since the end of the Cataclysm.¡±


    Early quietly asks, ¡°Smith, Father of Rebirth, do you have the backing of your Governor, and do you have a champion you wish to declare, should you accept? Because I assure you, I will not back down without a fight.¡±


    ¡°I have Jordan¡¯s blessing and Rasputin¡¯s champion. In spite of what you said, I presume that¡¯s why you have Defender Teum here¡­ to be your champion.¡±


    Before Teum of Luscin could object, ¡°I have no need of a champion. I fight my own battles.¡±


    Father Early claps his hands twice, the waitstaff prepared for that signal, surge to life, clearing away the high tops. A team of six carry a giant rolled up rug woven from glass fibers and reinforced with metal wires and bring it to the center of the room. After unrolling the rug, they affix it to the floor with eight metal spikes that are connected with thick copper cables to the buildings plumbing.


    Seeing the physical preparation finished, ¡°Teum, I need you to act as the buildings chief of safety. Don¡¯t let a scrape of energy escape this ring.¡±


    Awed by the sudden shift in atmosphere and familiar feel of a study dueling ring, Teum can¡¯t help but to stand up straight and bow, ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±


    ¡°I know you will son.¡±


    ?epe? steps into the ring, ¡°Feeling lucky are you. You¡¯re big, and I hear you move fast, but you can¡¯t hold a joule. I hope your cute little girl over there is ready to see daddy¡¯s head explode.¡±


    Father doesn¡¯t comment, he just takes off his jacket and tie, before loosening his shirt. Stepping into the ring he bends his knees, placing both fists on the ground in a classic sumo shikiri ready pose.


    ?epe? comments, ¡°Good luck with that, I don¡¯t plan on meeting you halfway.¡±


    This is a challenge to rule, there are no rules, other than elimination. Your opponent either submits or dies, staying in the ring is a courtesy to the host but not a requirement.


    Early doesn¡¯t wait, surging forward he¡¯s halfway across the four yard ring before ?epe? reacts.


    With a thunder clap a blast of kinetic energy concentrated in an area the size of a fist travels at supersonic speed for Early¡¯s head. Early doesn¡¯t turn or alter course, the energy somehow misses him.


    Teum straining his thoughts to their maximum speed barely reigns in the energy before it kills Ichi.


    Early covers another yard before ?epe? fires a second blast of kinetic, using a wide wave the width of the ring he believes he can¡¯t miss. He stares incredulously as the energy wave parts and flows around the charging mountain of muscle.


    Teum now prepared easily sweeps up the reckless discharge of power.


    ?epe? was educated at the Twoya study before leaving to become a duelist and eventual bodyguard. He¡¯s heard of this ability. Early, Father of Thuma is a Slide, he has no hold, but he can manipulate energy enough to defend himself.


    The best defense against a slide is direct contact. Another half second and there will be plenty of that.


    Early uses his outstretched arms to shove ?epe?¡¯ chest.


    ?epe? uses that contact to discharge around 20-thousand degrees of therms.


    Every calorie is trapped momentarily between the two of them before exploding outward. The rings insulating fibers protect the floor, Teum once again saves the building and bystanders by scooping up the escaping firestorm.


    Early shoves ?epe? who can¡¯t capture energy from direct contact, must allow himself to be thrown backwards violently.


    Teum trusts the duelist to protect himself and therefore the building, allows him to crash harmlessly into the wall. The wall takes no damage, but the initial impact cracked at least two ribs.


    Early turns and walks back to the opposite side of the ring with no concern of attack from the rear.


    ?epe? contemplates a laser blast to his head but knows the light will just bend.


    Seeing his opponent back in the shikari stance, fists on matt, he enters the ring and does the same.


    He¡¯s depleted half his hold of kinetic, there should still be plenty for what he needs to do. Driving the kinetic from hold to flesh, he augments his muscles until his mass has doubled. Giving him pound for pound parity with his opponent.


    There¡¯s no ceremony, the two lock gazes daring the other to make the first move. Doing so allows your opponent to control the moment of impact, determining who has the best footing. A practiced sumo wrestler can overcome such things, ?epe? only knows this form of combat because he was born knowing it, giving yet another advantage to Early, Father of Thuma... Father of the United States of Cenoka.


    Sensing the inevitable, ?epe? launches himself with every ounce of energy enhanced muscle.


    Early moves forward with lightning speed, intent on his target.


    Just before impact ?epe? yells, ¡°Dodge this!¡± and releases a thunderous clap of elects.


    Their bodies touch, hundreds of thousands of amps surge from ?epe?.


    Only those with the gift using accelerated thought witness the sparks of energy skating along the outline of Early as they surge towards the grounded mat delineating the fighting ring.


    Early doesn¡¯t push his opponent this time, instead he moves to the side and grabs the man by the head, lifts him off the ground and slams the back of his head to the mat.


    A sickening thud tells all that heard it that the mans head just broke open. The twitching corpse doesn¡¯t know its dead yet, and spasms as his spirit attempts to keep him alive.


    Early could smash the man¡¯s head viciously into the ground to make a point, but decides to squeeze his neck, cutting off air and blood supply, until he¡¯s sure the job is complete.


    Standing over the corpse of his challengers champion, ¡°Does anyone else wish to challenge me?¡±


    The splashing and clanking sounds of dish washing from the kitchen are the only answer.

 Chapter Twenty – Entropy, Lagrange Points, and Childs Play

    Basement testing room, Mammatus Study


    Sanne, full of regret over having eaten a large breakfast prior to today¡¯s operation, takes a moment to steady her breathing, calm her mind, and settle her stomach. Thinking two out of three will have to suffice, she queasily opens the door and enters.


    Her time with Minerva, where she learned her interrogation skills, pushed her already reckless behavior into a self-destructive attempt to forget her past or die trying. The psychological damage that she had buried under a mountain of brain damaging partying has resurfaced vengefully after each session with her once friend and mentor, Leven.


    Leven sits as he¡¯s taken of late, on the floor like a child.


    Girding herself with the knowledge that she shouldn¡¯t have to employ any spirit rending today, Sanne forces her voice to sound cheerful, ¡°Leven, today we have a special treat for you.¡±


    Leven looks up with blank eyes and an eerily lopsided smile.


    ¡°We found an old friend of yours and have arranged a visit.¡±


    Leven, dead emotionally, forces himself to feel hopeful. Standing in the doorway are two women, Master Adera. He hates Vania Adera passionately or would if he could feel passion. Instead, the sight of her makes him colder inside, he would be capable of doing anything to her. While Sanne is the one inflicting atrocities on him, it¡¯s all at the pleasure of Master Vania Adera, Dean of Sight and Sound at Mammatus Study.


    His hatred for Vania is so complete he almost doesn¡¯t notice the other woman until Sanne says her name.


    ¡°We¡¯ve brought you your old friend, Mistress Jane.¡±


    A spark ignites somewhere deep on Leven, discipline and training keep it from reaching his eyes. Instead, he unsteadily stands up.


    He blinks a few times as if just waking up before speaking in his weakened voice, ¡°Mistress Jane! You¡¯re here! That means this was a test, doesn¡¯t it?


    ¡°Did I pass?¡±


    Eyes pleading, ¡°Tell me this was a test, and it will go back to the way it was.¡±


    Softer, almost a whisper, ¡°please.¡±


    The prisoner Jane, shackled with arms behind her back, a chain connecting shackles to ankle restraints, limiting her to half steps, shakes her chains in frustration, ¡°Remove these so I can hold him. You must see that he needs me.¡±


    Pushing Jane into the room, Vania rebuts, ¡°Not happening, but he¡¯s welcome to hold you.¡±


    Jane stumbles forward, meeting Leven halfway across the room.


    Wrapping his weakened arms around his mistress, ¡°I knew you¡¯d come for me. I did everything I was supposed to do. I knew you¡¯d come.¡±


    Pressing her forehead against his chest, ¡°Yes, my Leven, I am here. Rest easy now. Mistress Jane will take care of everything from here on out.¡±


    Feeling the chains and shackles, Leven can¡¯t help but giggle, ¡°I usually wear these.¡±


    Master Adera feels she¡¯s given them enough time and would like to move on to the next step. The sooner they break Jane the better.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough Jane, step away from Leven.¡±


    Jane shuffles backwards, but Leven follows, never losing contact with her forehead.


    Sanne playing her role, ¡°Jane, I¡¯m going to crack you open the same as I did Leven. I went easy on him because he was once my friend. You¡¯ll receive no mercy from me.¡±


    Leven starts giggling again as he tries to speak, ¡°You¡¯re really going to take care of everything?¡±


    Her quiet response was masked by the sound of her shackles hitting the floor.


    Master Adara throws a restraining band of kinetic energy at the two prisoners.


    Mistress Jane deploys a myriad of kinetic plates, connected at acute and obtuse angles surrounding herself and Leven.


    Adara¡¯s restraint hits a plate and spins away violently smashing the basement wall.


    Sanne also took action by stabbing a spirit spike into the back of Jane¡¯s head. It presses into Jane¡¯s defenses easily, too easily, she must of hit a decoy, the ease of penetration giving away the ploy.


    Jane doesn¡¯t stop at reactively protecting herself, a splash of black energy drops to the floor and spreads, leaving herself and her Leven untouched.


    This energy, entropy made tangible causes everything it touches to decay. Stones erode, wooden chair and table legs dry out and begin to splinter under their own weight. Everything it touches begins to crumble as if aged a century.


    Having no way to counter such energy, Master Adara and Sanne can only back away.


    Vania shouts, ¡°We can¡¯t let you leave.¡±


    Mistress Jane cheerily counters, ¡°You can¡¯t stop me.¡±


    A familiar male voice follows the loud crack of a high caliber bullet fired at Jane¡¯s midsection, ¡°But I can.¡±


    Master Terius would have preferred to not use such a device, but a plan is a plan, and he must do his part.


    Mistress Jane felt the potential energy from the bullets explosive exit, but instinct tells her if she doesn¡¯t feel the bullet, it¡¯s a dragon clad slug. Without thinking she turns and uses Leven as a shield.


    The projectile tears into the weakened ex-page and friend of Sanne. The dragon cladding tears away burrowing their own tiny holes into his body. The main slug flattens, creating an expanding cone of destruction before hitting a rib and deflecting downward where it exits harmlessly against Jane¡¯s thigh.


    Bloody froth bubbles from Leven as he tries to cry out, while a shredded lung collapses.


    The black crackling energy fills the room from floor to ceiling until there is no ceiling and Jane with Leven in her arms flies up into the same vacant courtyard where Leven was taken weeks ago. She doesn¡¯t slow as she bursts through the skylights above.


    Broken glass rains down on the three interrogators as the black matter corrupting energy continues to expand.


    Terius comments, ¡°That wasn¡¯t exactly to plan, was it?¡±


    Sanne answers, ¡°No.¡±


    Vania adds, ¡°Not exactly.¡±


    Sub-basement, warehouse near Mammatus Rail Station


    Stuffing both sides of his wounds with gauze, Jane can¡¯t believe she used her precious Leven as a shield. She did it without a thought, as she was trained, training she despises at the moment.


    He lives, she consols herself with that thought, but for how long. Wrapping his torso to hold the gauze in place she watches his neck and counts the subtle pulse.


    His heart rate was racing when they arrived, now that he¡¯s settled and prone, it¡¯s down to under forty beats a minute.


    She shoves a small box under his knees and finds a slightly larger one to prop up his feet. His breathing is steady, his bleeding has slowed. He¡¯d be healing better if it weren¡¯t for the shrapnel of meta-obsidian embedded in his body.


    Jane stares at the bloody mess she¡¯s made of Leven and herself before climbing the ladder to the room above where there¡¯s a sink she can use to wash away Leven¡¯s blood.


    There¡¯s nothing to be done with her clothes, she undresses and goes to the wardrobe and grabs the first thing she sees, a pair of beige pants and a white blouse. A pair of wedged mules completes her ensemble.


    She looks unapprovingly at her image in the wardrobe mirror, her purple hair is in disarray and there¡¯s no brush in sight.


    She¡¯ll need to go out anyway, this safehouse has been empty for decades and the remaining food stores have spoiled. Slipping her shoes back off she tucks them under an arm and makes her way up a second ladder leading to a trap door. Not worried about being seen, she pushed it open and climbed free of the underground hideaway into an empty office.


    Hatch closed, her feet shod, she runs fingers through her hair one last time before exiting the warehouse to procure provisions.


    Outside the warehouse she takes stock of the area and its security. Having leased the office in the buildings rear fifty or so years ago was a prudent choice. This building has been the cross dock between the legal and illegal trade in Mammatus for hundreds of years. The warehouse porters don¡¯t just move cargo, they¡¯re also lookouts. She knows all their alert signals; everything is clear for now.


    Mistress Jane was taught not to rely too heavily on human perceptions, has also deployed more than two dozen detector machines on the surrounding rooftops. If anyone tries to spy on her warehouse their presence will be detected, and she¡¯ll be notified immediately.


    Audibly things seem normal enough, only the incessant cawing of a pair of crows embroiled in a territorial dispute sounds out of place. The ambient noise of trains jockeying into place on their respective tracks and the coordinating shouts of foremen and switchmen tell her all is normal.


    She left that waste of a study in a rush, had she had time she would have stuck around to watch the place crumble. How they are dealing with the scourge of entropy she unleashed she can only imagine. Their precious study is probably gutted by now. After she heals Leven, she¡¯ll pay them another visit. Providing she¡¯s allowed.


    Spotting a line of food stalls, Jane decides to forego shopping and instead to get enough food for a day. Carrying a flat square box back into the warehouse, she hopes Leven will find this new street food called pizza interesting.


    A wave of disorientation has Jane pause while descending the first ladder. It only takes a moment to register what happened. She¡¯d gotten used to the oddity called Malo staying put on the other side of the world. Now he¡¯s on the move, and fast. Taking her orders seriously, she¡¯s kept him in the back of her mind; it can be jarring when he suddenly moves from place to place.


    No matter, she has her Leven to make well. Reaching the subbasement, she slips her shoe¡¯s back on and opens the pizza box to give Leven a whiff.


    Waving the food in front of his face doesn¡¯t do the trick. She takes a finger, dips it in the red sauce, and smears a little on his lower lip.


    Leven¡¯s pale face doesn¡¯t register the contact. Cupping his cool cheeks in both hands, she takes a moment to appreciate how beautiful he is.


    Checking her patient¡¯s pulse, she barely feels one.


    ¡°No, no, no! You¡¯re too strong to go out like this. I can fix you. She can fix you!¡±


    Another wave of dizziness hits as the one she¡¯s supposed to keep track of circles the world and moves faster and farther away than should be possible.


    Anger flashes, not even the Free¡¯er makes himself felt so strongly. This apostate called Malo is pushing himself on everyone, eroding freedom by his vary existence. By doing so, he breaks every natural law as taught by the Free¡¯er and his priesthood.


    Why does he get to break laws, rules, and conventions? When she, Mistress Jane must follow them and hide while her precious Leven withers and dies.


    Resolutely, Jane kicks off her shoes and tosses the uneaten pizza aside. Gently scooping Leven into her arms, she blasts black-entropy upwards until she sees clear skies.


    Taking to the air, she turns towards the place she¡¯s forbidden to visit without a summons. Mistress Jane will be heard. Lady Gwynt will heal Leven or pay the price.


    A lone crow, the presumed winner of the territorial dispute, caws alarm at the ruined warehouse.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Space, Lagrange Point L1


    This isn¡¯t as fun as he¡¯d imagined. His eyes keep shriveling away as fast as they can regrow. Having all the unbound fluids and gases sucked from his body was horrible in ways indescribable to someone who has not experienced it. His circulatory system has ceased to function, cells no longer carry life sustaining molecules and minerals. A new process evolved to sustain life or maybe he was slowly dying. His brain thinks his heart still beats; lungs still breathe. Neither process was happening but as long as his brain believed its going on, he can manage these wild new sensations. Adjusting his physicality and mentality to this new baseline of existence took a reconfiguration of his anabolic systems. Where the energy comes from, he doesn¡¯t know and decides that a problem for future Malo.


    He knows his position from the pull of gravity by the sun, terra, and moon. This spot is neat in that both the moon and terra feel the same gravitationally, but the two still stand out in stark contrast by their own radiation.


    He should not have stopped here, when he pushes on time only the gravitational pull of the sun exerts any noticeable force, the other two bodies are perfectly in opposition. He could use the sun to pull himself out of this neutral point, but that seems like a compromise. There must be another way to move from this point. The moon still calls to him, it¡¯s right there he feels it.


    With so many other senses, you¡¯d think this would be enough, but somehow not being able to use his own two eyes has diminished the experience.


    Lethargically Malo realizes his spirit is running out of mass to continually heal his organs and keep his mind alive, a new sensation catches his attention.


    In the vacuum of space there are not as many particles for time to interact, time still marches on and as there is no matter to propel through time, it instead creates tiny tears in space. Through these tears slip opposites. Malo doesn¡¯t know what else to call them, but they seem to cancel each other out if he allows them to touch. Holding his left hand open, he calls the ones that appear as elects. He draws their opposites to his right.


    He feels his spirit in turmoil, the powerful personalities permeating his spirit of the people who sacrificed themselves to save him, are equally intrigued and scared of what he¡¯s found.


    He¡¯s positive the intrigue comes from Master Robles and Auntie Ge¡¯get, and the fright from his mom and papa. Not having a name for the opposite elects, he goes with Robles and Ge¡¯get¡¯s positive mood and names them pos-sies.


    He¡¯s gathered tens-of-thousands this way before other types of particles begin to appear. He experiments to see which ones go in the left hand and which in the right. Guessing wrong, causes the new particles to bond with the elects and pos-sies until they annihilate one another and make a bit of light.


    Realizing he¡¯s gathering the basic building blocks of atoms. He begins to understand what¡¯s happening. His spirit needs mass, he¡¯s somehow summoning it from somewhere or more likely transforming the energy already present into these particles.


    A new particle begins to appear, this one seems to be sticky. When it interacts with the positrons and neutrons they are drawn together and begin trapping electrons forming atoms. His spirit takes them in, and he feels a spark of energy.


    Mentally, Malo takes a restorative breath and figuratively closes his eyes. Letting his spirit expand beyond his body, where it meticulously pries open space, letting streams of time flow unhindered. Pairs of annihilation particles appear faster than he can segregate. The mass of matter and anti-matter grows and is consumed, feeding his spirit and body.


    Floating stationery between the pull of planet and moon, Malo extends his desiccated arms capped by swirling balls of pulsating plasma and anti-plasma. The glow of energy washing away all color, the sudden available mass restores his previously crumpled form.


    His mind has reached a state of serenity, his spirit is resonating with grace. Matter forms and reconstitutes his body to its fullest. Breathing in the mix of nitrogen and oxygen trapped by a self-generated magnetic field, he turns his palms backwards and fires streams of plasma and anti-plasma from each hand propelling himself towards a beckoning moon.


    The Keep in Brust Valley


    ¡°Blah, blah, blah, blah... blah-blah-Blah! Blah-blah, blah, blah¡­ Blah, blah. Do these people never stop talking?¡±


    Job can only follow so much of what¡¯s being said, the deluge of new words like, ¡°diplomatic¡±, ¡°currency¡±, ¡°sovereign¡± are making his head spin.


    ¡°Blah, blah, war effort¡­¡±, what was that about, he almost tries to listen but can¡¯t make himself. His mother and father will explain it all later using smaller words he is more accustomed to using.


    Standing between his parents he does his best to keep from leaning against his father¡¯s leg. He¡¯d do it if he couldn¡¯t feel his Chief of Staff behind him staring at his every wiggle.


    It¡¯s not fair, what¡¯s the point of being a general if you have to do all this boring stuff; when can he start the war?


    A gentle nudge from mother tells him to walk forward, not sure why, he does. He trusts his mother emphatically and will do anything she says.


    Relieved, everyone follows his lead, and they advance up to the giant steps. Upon reaching them he holds up his hands, mother, and father each take one and lift him in the air, bouncing him on each step.


    Finally, something fun, he squats a little on each landing and jumps skyward, knowing they¡¯re going to lift him gently to the next step.


    The huge doors are open wide, not a good defensive position to take. The construction of the building is sound, but completely indefensible. He was told they were building fortifications; this must not be them.


    Entering Brusk was eye opening, having only lived in the ranger camp in the mountains, seeing so many people lining the streets was scary. Not as scarry as all the towering buildings. Some of them are four stories high. The keep towered even higher, if he hadn¡¯t been forced to stand while greeted for a whole four minutes, he¡¯d still be intimidated.


    Now inside his trepidation is replaced with slack-jawed amazement, because the thing about big buildings is, they have big insides too.


    The grand staircase, the gold gilding, the polished dark stained wood, the flower arrangements, a larger-than-life painting of a man in the house colors with a woman whose beauty rivals his mother¡¯s.


    Gentle nudges keep him moving forward, a bit slower than his parents like, but the other visiting rangers are just as awestruck.


    His connection to them tells him so, they¡¯re as awed as he or maybe his feelings are influencing them. There¡¯s so much they don¡¯t yet understand. He keeps telling Jadeen it won¡¯t matter in the end, but she insists on trying to learn everything there is to know about his ability to connect with his people.


    Their small group of fourteen shuffle along at the pace of a two-year-old, who has completely forgotten his mission and is trying to see everything there is to see.


    A rare moment of happiness burbles inside as he looks up to his mom and declares, ¡°I¡¯m glad you made me come. I would never have seen a room so big or pretty if I had not left camp until the war started.


    ¡°Nonsense, you¡¯ll see plenty of big rooms when we begin our march.¡±


    Feelings being fickle, he¡¯s now sad, ¡°Yes, but they won¡¯t look like this after we arrive.¡±


    His sadness doesn¡¯t last as they enter a long room with the sun streaming in the windows, lighting double rows of tables with bench seating. No more nudges are required to motivate him to walk down the center aisle between the tables. He smells food and hasn¡¯t eaten since dawn.


    At the far end of the room is a raised dais with a larger table that seats nine facing the other smaller tables. Forgetting himself he self-propels up the dais with a gentle nudge against time.


    ¡°Job!¡± dual hushed admonishments erupt from his parents as he scurries under the table to the side with the chairs.


    Spotting a seat fortified with a block of wood and cushion he takes it for himself. Crawling up he surveys the table for the food that must be nearby.


    Seeing none is hugely disappointing, the room is filled with the aroma of baking bread and the unmistakable smell of cavi charring over an open fire.


    Resigned to starving, Job patiently pouts while the grownups take their seats.


    The youngish looking man from outside dressed like the man in the portrait takes a seat to his right, his father, the War Consort sits to his left, mother is next, followed by Elias. Job can¡¯t see who or knows the names of the people to his right.


    The grownup to his right leans a little to his left and speaks in a stage whisper that half the table can hear, ¡°Are you as hungry as I am?¡±


    Answering the unanswerable in the same tone, ¡°I don¡¯t know. How hungry are you?¡±


    Using a more conversational voice, ¡°Hungry enough to wish the kitchen staff didn¡¯t hate me this week.


    ¡°I can never remember names after those long formal greetings outside. My name is Lord Tomas Brusk, but I would be honored if you would simply address me as Tomas.¡±


    Job should have realized this was the ¡°king¡± of Brusk but not having any frame of reference for the proceedings he just experienced, he didn¡¯t know if the man talking had been a herald or a head of state.


    Remembering his manners, ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you Tomas, I am called Job. I¡¯m supposed to meet Lord Brusk today.


    Extending a tiny hand in greetings, ¡°That must be you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes I am indeed the one and only Lord Tomas Brusk.¡±


    ¡°Good, then you can make them feed me.¡±


    Chuckling at the boy¡¯s na?ve optimism, ¡°I wish it were so; the kitchen staff and I are not on speaking terms presently. If I tried ordering them around right now, I¡¯d need a new food taster at every meal.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°The same reason as always, their budget. No matter how much I allocate they never feel it¡¯s enough.¡±


    ¡°No, not that. Why would you need food tasters, are they going to make you yucky foods?¡±


    Stifling another chuckle, ¡°You could say that. When your education expands to politics, you¡¯ll get a better understanding.


    ¡°Speaking of education, I hear you¡¯ve been entirely educated by your parents and advisors. One on one lessons are good, but some lessons are best taught in groups for the sake of discussion. How does that work, are there other children in Bearlower?¡±


    The question catches Job off guard, he¡¯s never considered other children or their necessity, ¡°No. I¡¯m the only child.


    ¡°You should know that. Three of our rangers had to leave because they were having babies. Two came here¡­ are they still here¡­ can I see them... the babies?¡±


    Softly, ¡°They are and will be joining us at our table shortly.¡±


    Tomas gestures to an attendant waiting at the end of the table and hurriedly gives the woman instructions.


    ¡°The babies are adorable, slow growing, eating machines, just like their father. The kitchen staff can¡¯t wait for them to be fully weened.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of the cooking staff,¡± Tomas doesn¡¯t finish as Chef unceremoniously drops a platter lid on the table before him.


    A silver platter loaded with snacks is then gently placed in front of Job with a little flourish, ¡°You must be starved after your long march across the mountains. Formal dining will not start for another hour, the kitchen staff put this together in your honor.¡±


    Scowling once at Tomas before turning, Chef leaves without another word.


    Job takes in the food before him, recognizing berries he start with them.


    Sarich doesn¡¯t wait for an invitation and takes a slice of bread, butters it, and passes it to his wife.


    After eating a few berries, Job gets curious about the unusual assortment before him. Turning to a bemused Lord Tomas Brust he points to a wedge shaped green and red fruit with black seeds, ¡°What is this?¡±


    ¡°That is something I was told we were out of, just yesterday. It¡¯s called watermelon.¡±


    Memories of the large green fruit, Citrullus lanatus, a gourd, floods his mind, stalling him for a heartbeat. Having gained knowledge he didn¡¯t need, he regrets having asked.


    Job pulls the platter close, takes the enticing slice or nutrient filled fruity flesh and commences eating it.


    Tomas takes up the platter lid and holds it up and back from the table, an attendant quickly takes it away.


    ¡°I could go for some of that watermelon.¡±


    Job pretends not to hear.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t eat the seeds, that¡¯s what that metal cup on the platter is for. You hold the cup close to your mouth and spit the seeds into it.¡±


    That sounds like a good idea, but to acknowledge it he would have to admit to hearing the man. Stubbornly Job continues to swallow the seeds.


    The rows of tables are filling quickly, well-dressed people, some recognizable as those that had lined the street when his procession entered the city. Uniformed attendants escort groups to their assigned tables. It¡¯s a well-organized process until a rushing keeps guardsmen intercepts an attendant leading a group to the front row.


    The contingent from Bearlower is instantly on alert for any attempt of subterfuge. After exchanging words and a glance towards Tomas the attendant finishes seating his party and follows the guard out of the reception hall.


    Tearing off a chunk of bread and smashing it into the butter, Job barely notices the loud bang of the servant¡¯s entrance door, quickly followed by a table carried by two men. The table is set near the front blocking the walkway down the right side of the room.


    Reccy gets up from her seat on the other side of Sarich and taps Job on the shoulder and points to the right end of the table where two rangers holding large bundles are being seated. He¡¯s seen rangers before and returns his attention to his bread and the activities before him.


    Reccy shrugged and goes to the end and of the table to introduce herself to the two mothers. They may be War Born and her just a human but all mothers have a bond, and through that bond the three ladies become fast friends.


    Eyes ahead, Job chews his bread and watches as the first two rows are shifted to the left, making room for the extra table now perpendicular to all the others. The already seated people take the resettlement in stride and helpfully move their bench.


    After all is settled, two long benches join the unattended table. The room is not yet fully seated when a swarm of staff begin distributing glasses of chilled water.


    Seeing this Job is surprised to see that he¡¯s been served water as well and greedily takes his glass in both hands and sates a thrist he only now notices.


    As if that was a signal a polite voice asks from behind, ¡°Master Job, if you are finished, I can take that platter away.¡±


    Job isn¡¯t sure if he¡¯s done yet, but Sarich speaks for him, ¡°Job is finished, you may take it.¡±


    With nothing to do, Job leans forward and rests his chin on the table¡¯s edge. Wishing he was anywhere else; he starts thinking about all the things he needs to accomplish. Not able to think of anything he can change or accomplish while stuck here, his mood turns to boredom. He heats his water to a boil and cools it until ice crystals begin to form.


    Sensing the glass stressing from the rapid expansion and compression, Job turns his attention to the glass in front of Tomas.


    A stinging sensation to the back of his hand has him sit up straight.


    Sarich whispers, ¡°Stop that.¡±


    Food comes next, a plate drops in front of Lord Brust, followed immediately by one for Job. It¡¯s grilled cavi with a mix of greens and an unrecognized blend of beans.


    Picking uninterestedly at his food his ears pick up the high-pitched chattering voices of a dozen kids aged three to six. A single woman rides herd on the unruly group and steers them to the lone empty table.


    Food is rushed out to the group; they are fed sandwiches and cups of punch.


    Job is amazed by his first look at people around his same age, it¡¯s one thing to know something exists, it¡¯s another thing to see it with your own eyes. They are like him, they may be taller than Job, but at the same time they are small, just like him.


    He watches the group hungrily as they munch excitedly on their food and talk optimistically of the events to come.


    Sarich slides his chair back and leans behind Job. Having been waiting for such a movee, Tomas does the same.


    Conspiratorially, Tomas addresses the unasked question, ¡°This group goes to the same home study, their study master has been requesting a field trip to the keep. I thought a sleepover would be fun for them.¡±


    ¡°You did this for Job. I recognize a rushed change of plans as easily as the next man.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Returning to his place and speaking first to Reccy and then to Job. He barely finished talking when Job slips out of his chair to the floor, crawls under the table and alights on his feet after hopping off the raised dais.


    Forgetting any sense of decorum his parents and chief of staff have attempted to instill, Job flies directly to the kid¡¯s tabletop and walks down its center to survey his new soldiers.


    Tomas stands and the room instantly quiets, all except the kids table which is in chaos over the sudden new arrival.


    Speaking just loud enough to be heard, ¡°Milldy, could you please escort the kids to their next activity?¡±


    Reccy stands, ¡°Excuse me, I will assist Milldy if there are no objections.¡±


    Not waiting for a reply Reccy takes up the rear of the rapidly forming line of children with Job at the lead.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-One – Hags & Commanders

    Mammatus Study


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t exactly to plan, was it?¡±


    Responding to Terius, Sanne answers, ¡°No.¡±


    Vania adds, ¡°Not exactly.¡±


    Holstering his firearm, ¡°I can¡¯t stick around to clean up this mess. Can you two handle it?¡±


    Vania speaking with a confidence she doesn¡¯t feel, ¡°This will be no problem, go and have your fun.¡±


    Looking up at the broken skylights, Terius backflips skyward, and shoots feet first through the opening above.


    Vania watches Terius go and waits a heartbeat before turning her attention to the problem at hand.


    ¡°Sanne, gather the students and faculty. We¡¯re going to need everyone for this job or it¡¯s going to turn our home to dust.¡±


    Knowing not to question a master, Sanne takes aim at the bell on the third floor near the headmaster¡¯s office used to summon students for all-hands assemblies. Not knowing the code for mysterious black substance eating school, come at once; she settles for ringing the bell wildly non-stop with rapid jerks of kinetic applied to the pull rope.


    The students and masters pour out of their quarters in a state of confusion. They were directed to wait in their rooms until an all-clear signal sounds; this is not an all clear signal.


    Decorum and etiquette are pushed aside as students and masters leap from their landings into the courtyard below.


    Master Bailey is the first to arrive at Vania Adara¡¯s side, ¡°What the situation?¡±


    ¡°Our plan hit a snag. The spy fled and left us a present. It appears to be densely compressed time. Anything it envelopes begins to decay at a rapid pace. The basement and sublevels are dust, luckily rock doesn¡¯t age fast, or we¡¯d all be dust by now.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s contained?¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s seeping through cracks, and I am currently blocking four culverts.¡±


    Closing his eyes to help visualize what he feels, ¡°I feel it, I can press on it the same way I press the singularity to fly.¡±


    Vania ignores the singularity reference, knowing that it¡¯s unique to her friend¡¯s perception of time and there are more ways to describe time than days in a year.


    She focuses on the important part, ¡°Yes, press on it, find its boundaries and push or pull or whatever you do to gather it back into a tight little ball.¡±


    Master Bailey gets the idea, ¡°I think that will work. I¡¯ll relay your instructions to everyone. I hope we have enough manpower to pull this off.¡±


    Vania smirks, ¡°We might hold them back from flying, but they all learn fast traveling, that should give them enough skill for this task.¡±


    Jayden Bailey doesn¡¯t wait for her to finish before turning to address a pair of senior students and tells them what must be done.


    After slapping hands in excitement, they in turn relay the information to others and join Master Adara and Bailey with their effort to contain the entropic pool below.


    Sanne, having finished ringing the alarm, caught enough information to know what to do, unlike Master Bailey she has no idea how this will help, ¡°What exactly are we doing?¡±


    Baily glances at Sanne to make sure that wasn¡¯t rhetorical before explaining, ¡°This is something new to all of us, but Master Robles gave us all the knowledge we need to handle it. That black goo appears to be concentrated time made tangible. I can only think of two ways to disable it, dilution, or removal.


    ¡°Dilution is too dangerous; so we¡¯re going to remove it by returning it back where it came from.¡±


    Sanne incredulous, ¡°But that would be outside the physical universe! How can that even be possible?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s here. There must be a way to return it. Paras had a lot of theories about time, this substance supports the proof of one of them. We can discuss it later if you like, things are about to get fun.


    ¡°Hey! Stop throwing study property into the goo!¡±


    Kids being kids, when they were told anything that falls into the goo will turn to dust, all immediately felt the need to put that assertion to a test. Chairs, plates, shoes, miscellaneous debris, whatever was at hand was raining down steadily to the cheers of the gathered crowd.


    As Master Bailey¡¯s instructions circulated through the crowd, the steady stream of falling items lessoned, until finally everyone was cooperating and following his instructions.


    The combined pressure of more than a hundred minds begins to have an effect on the troublesome concentration of time. As it shrinks, it begins to accumulate mass, and where there is mass, time slows. Little by little it becomes less destructive as it is drawn upward and forms a sphere.


    Now three yards in diameter, it floats in the courtyard above the hole to the sublevel. As Master Adara and Bailey expected, the pull of gravity becomes stronger, observable by the dust drawn towards the destructive black construct.


    ¡°Keep compressing it students, you¡¯re doing great! But be ready, things are about to get chaotic!¡±


    Compressing the sphere further increases its density by magnitudes. The pull of gravity is strong enough to draw the smaller students towards its deadly depths.


    Master Bailey shouts new instructions, ¡°Split your efforts between containment and fast traveling around the sphere. Do not try to push directly away, or you will fall directly into the sphere. Everyone, move at walking speed in a counter-clockwise circle around the sphere. Do not push directly away.¡±


    As the students and masters rotate around the sphere it continues to shrink, as it shrinks the speed in which they travel increases.


    Students that have never flown find themselves in a tight, fast-moving orbit. Collison¡¯s are inevitable, Master Bailey¡¯s unique ability to sense potential energy in an area heads off the worst of them by nudging the orbits of the rotating students higher.


    ¡°Hold steady, keep pushing. If shell theory holds, we can compress this until it is dense enough to punch a hole in space and return to the singularity.¡±


    Master Bailey, Black Hill, and Adara keep themselves separate and use their skill at flying to bob back and forth instead of circling.


    Shouting over the whoops and cheers of the flying students, Jayden cautions his fellow masters, ¡°Be ready, when this thing disappears, we are going to have close to a hundred living projectiles hurtling towards the study walls.¡±


    Master Bailey feels every potential impact in the courtyard. He alone will be able to know which student will strike the walls first and is ready to save them, but he¡¯ll need help.


    ¡°The older students should be ok, they¡¯ll either, stop themselves of bank the impact. It¡¯s our job to protect the younger students that may not be able to help themselves.¡±


    Suddenly without warning, the sphere which had shrunk to half a yard, simply disappears. Ninety-six students are suddenly flung in every compass direction as the object they were orbiting ceases to exist.


    Jayden, having sped his thoughts tenfold, feels dozens of impending impacts. Reaches out with his spirits intent and siphons off what he feels to be ninety percent. Each student he reaches is slowed from a terminal velocity of 120-miles per hour to approximately five miles an hour. Most of them are able to land safely. Master¡¯s Adara and Black Hill cushion the impact of the ones that don¡¯t.


    In a matter of two seconds, all is still, and the black pool of entropy is gone.


    The students erupt in cheers and laughter as adrenaline continues to fuel their emotions.


    Master Black Hill wastes no time, ¡°Excellent work everybody. I need twelve cleaning crews of six each, who are my volunteers?¡±


    Gwynnies Book Store, Brass


    Gwynn felt the approaching storm, as sure as if there was a massive drop in atmospheric pressure. This isn¡¯t a storm though; this will be much worse. The novice she left in Mammatus, the novice that is not supposed to leave Mammatus without orders, has come unbidden. Nothing good can come from such disobedience.


    Announcing loudly to her two customers, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I must close shop early today. Take what you must and pay me on your next visit.¡±


    A duet of thank-you¡¯s is followed by the click of coins dropped on the front counter.


    Curse these people, getting them to indebt themselves is nearly impossible. Why would the Free¡¯er insist everyone be self-sufficient when the clearest way to control them is to put them in debt?


    Hag Gwynn shakes off that thought, he always has a plan and never shares it. Her sight settles off in the distance through the front window where a ghostly pale moon stands out in the clear blue sky. The new one, Malo, is there. She wishes she could be too. What wonders is he seeing?


    A darkness descends on the street outside her window, obstructing the moon, but she still feels the man that must be there. She knows he is the enemy yet takes comfort in his existence.


    Her novice is here and is making an entrance. Literally making an entrance by destroying the front of her shop with a river of entropy. Wood dries, mortar crumbles, glass sags and wilts until it slips free of its frame and shatters on the floor.


    The entropic slime seeps through widening cracks until they widen enough for it to pour through the holes. A human shape appears amidst the dark streams of destruction.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The entire front of her bookstore is now gone, the black crud covering her floor begins to recede and flow back to the open free hand of her novice, Jane. Her other arm is wrapped around the slumped form of a man.


    Gwynn throws a mask around her shop, enhancing people¡¯s curiosity. If there¡¯s going to be a fight that blows her identity, she might as well maximize the human damage.


    ¡°Jane, what do you think you are doing?¡±


    Having cleared away the last of her entropy, Jane clutches Levin tightly with both arms, ¡°My Levin is hurt; you are going to heal him.¡±


    Silly girl, thinks Gwynn, ¡°While it¡¯s not my specialty, all I could do with that corpse you¡¯re holding is animate it.¡±


    Confidence and defiant, Jane stamps a foot, ¡°My Levin is not dead! I feel his breath on my neck as we stand here.¡±


    The gesture is not necessary, but it helps with the message, Gwynn flicks a hand towards Leven and crushes his windpipe.


    A downward motion smashes him from Janes clutches and presses him to the floor. A kinetic bind immobilizes Jane while Gwynn makes her way to Levin and stomps on his head with enough force to make it explode, ¡°As I said, all I can do is animate his corpse. But I can¡¯t even do that until we¡¯re finished with whoever followed you.¡±


    Jane collapsing, throws herself over Leven¡¯s lifeless body and sobs, ¡°I¡¯ll kill you for this.¡±


    Resolutely Gwynn assures, ¡°No you won¡¯t.¡±


    A crow caw¡¯s somewhere nearby, the sound barely heard over the surprised gasps made by men, women, and children that came to see what destroyed the bookstore.


    Putting on her best smile, and looking at the gathering crowd, ¡°Come in and look around.¡±


    One man particularly grabs her attention, not because of his chiseled physique, strong jaw, or perfect blonde hair, it¡¯s his clothes. The man is dressed in the unmistakable uniform of a Defender.


    Stepping around the weeping Jane and his old friend, Terius addresses the disgusting creature before him, ¡°Hag, drop the mask and let these people disperse.¡±


    Doubling the affect of her mask, ¡°Why would I do that?¡±


    The dozen bystanders are becoming giddy with excitement over seeing the dead man¡¯s crushed head and the crying woman.


    Hag Gwynn knows who she faces, strength and training is on his side, underhanded tricks are her only advantage.


    Triggering her grieving novice, ¡°Jane, this bobcat is threatening me, kill it.¡±


    Hearing the word bobcat wakes her programing, Jane¡¯s mind clears of emotions, and she knows what she must do.


    Jane lunges at Terius from behind, tendrils of entropy extending from both hands.


    Terius in a blink, sidesteps and pushes Jane into the Hag. Ropes of entropy slapping her in the face as the two women fall to the ground.


    Shoving Jane off herself, Gwynn admonishes the girl, ¡°Dear, you¡¯ll have to do better than that to kill this bobcat.¡±


    Having her programing reaffirmed clears her thoughts enough to formulate an actual plan of attack this time.


    Mistress Jane nails Terius to the floor with kinetic spikes fired into the heal of his boots. Simultaneously she casts a net of entropy at him. When it envelopes him, he¡¯ll age a hundred years in seconds.


    Terius rips free of the pathetic attempt at hindering his movement and drags the entropy net downward with a nudge against the concentrated time, where it harmlessly hits the floor.


    Before Jane can regroup, Terius closes the distance between them and throws a left jab at her face. His fist connects with her nose, breaking it and knocks loose both her front teeth.


    Propelled backwards, Jane slams into a couple that had begun kissing each other passionately in an aisle. The three fall to the ground in a tangled heap. Jane, unconscious, is out of the fight.


    Happy onlookers point and laugh at the spectacle happening around them.


    Cold fingers clasp Terius¡¯ neck from behind. The hags hot breath caresses his cheek, ¡°I¡¯m going to rip open your neck now and make these people drink your blood.¡±


    Moving kinetic from hold to his longus colli and longus capitis muscles, strengthens his neck. The hag digs her inhuman nails into skin but is unable to do more than superficial damage to his neck.


    Before her failure registers, Terius shifts forward and throws an elbow into her forehead, knocking her unconscious, adding a mind spike renders her harmless.


    Raising his voice, ¡°Hron, is it just me or was that too easy?¡±


    The people in the shop suddenly stop smiling and seem to notice Leven¡¯s corpse for the first time. Their reactions, no longer influenced by the affect mask are as expected. Eyes avert, hands cover mouths. Seeing Terius with the bookshop¡¯s owner now slung over a shoulder gives them something to focus on.


    One woman asks, ¡°Is Gwynnie going to be ok?¡±


    Patting the limp woman on her rump, ¡°No, she will not. Now excuse me I have business to conclude.¡±


    The woman was hoping to hear assurances that things would go back to the way things were. She looks around confusedly before wandering off.


    She¡¯s not the only one who looks stunned, everyone that had been under the spell of the affect mask is coming off an emotional high and finding themselves in the presence of a corpse and a defender about to carry off someone they know. The crowd¡¯s mood begins to shift from confused to angry.


    Rescuing the clueless Terius, Master Black Hill makes himself seen and heard by amplifying his voice, ¡°Attention, may I have everyone¡¯s attention!¡±


    The angry crowd is shocked by the sudden interruption and loses any momentum towards action that was forming.


    Hron Black Hill outfitted in black with a crow perched on his head, continues, ¡°There has been an attack on the bookstore. Master Terius and I were in pursuit of a rogue duelist. We cornered her here, and discovered she was working on behalf of the store¡¯s owner. We believe the dead man was also an associate, we¡¯re not sure who killed him. But these two will be brought to justice as soon as we finish interrogating them.¡±


    A pair of guards come running up the street, ready to draw swords. Seeing the two defenders, they feel instant relief that they won¡¯t have to face whatever ate the entire front half of a bookstore.


    Seeing it¡¯s Master Terius, the Terror of Mammatus makes them stand a little taller. The senior guard offers, ¡°Can we assist you in any way?¡±


    Hron replies quickly, ¡°You could disperse the crowd. We need to do an investigation while those two are still unconscious.¡±


    ¡°We can do that, but can you answer a quick question first?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Do we need to prepare a cell for either of them?¡±


    ¡°No, they¡¯re coming with us.¡±


    Looking past the two defenders at the missing store front, ¡°Good.¡±


    Deep inside Brusk Valley


    ¡°Recon team, report your findings.¡±


    The freshly appointed recon team leader wants to impress his commander, ¡°Their sentries are not taking their duties seriously. We¡¯ll have no issue avoiding their notice.¡±


    Commander is pleased to hear this news, ¡°Assault team, what¡¯s your status?¡±


    Eager to please her new commander, she confidently declares, ¡°Group one and two are standing by. We are prepared to move out at your pleasure.¡±


    ¡°Excellent, what about transport? Has the necessary preparations been made?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we have adequate carrying capacity to move all the provisions we aquire.¡±


    Commander is pleased with his troop¡¯s preparedness, now they will get their first taste of field action.


    Taking one more look over his troops, Commander decides they are ready, ¡°Let¡¯s move out.¡±


    The recon team takes the lead, followed closely by the assault team. Commander leads the transport crew. Normally he would station himself with the assault team; this position allows him to observe his troops on their maiden mission.


    They move like ghosts through the darkness, arriving at their target during the time-window his recon team deemed the sentries most likely to be away. They are either lucky or talented, only replicable success will tell him which it is.


    He quietly watches the assault team move into position; he feels a moment of pride as the recon team falls back to their watch position without any prompting. They are young and inexperienced but so far, they execute like seasoned veterans.


    A subtle click pulls Commander from his ruminations. The fortification gate is open, it¡¯s his turn. Leading the transport crew, Commander moves forward and enters the enemy stronghold.


    ¡°Ok, you two, load up. I want cookies, pastries, and those pies on the cooling rack.¡±


    Job has never seen so much food at one time. Bearlower is run like a typical War Born camp, meaning everything is lean and efficient. Sweets are rationed and reserved for special events.


    This place must be making baked goods for the whole city, laid out on the counters and cooling racks are cookies, pastries, tiny cakes, something called taffy, sticky bars of honey and nuts, and colorful translucent nuggets of sugar.


    Feeling confident, ¡°Load up boys, tonight we gorge ourselves on high caloric, non-nutritional wonders!¡±


    One of the transporters, his name was Stephen or something, ¡°It¡¯s just candy, Job. Haven¡¯t you had candy before?¡±


    Whispering his response, ¡°Never¡­ and I will never forget this night, or the support provided by the children of Brust for this opportunity.


    ¡°I will endeavor to spare this place. I give you, my word.¡±


    Stevenson frowns, ¡°Sure, Job, are you gonna eat that Bear Claw or put it in my basket?


    ¡°And don¡¯t forget your side of this deal. We get you sweets, and you¡¯ll share your gift with us.¡±


    Job takes a bite of cinnamon and maple syrup bliss before mumbling, ¡°Bang-up, but don¡¯t forget you¡¯ll be pledging your life to mine; and I¡¯m about to go to war against the Empire of Blood.¡±


    Center Hotel, Missacon


    Luscin stops outside the door when she hears someone talking in their room. It¡¯s impolite to listen, but who is Teum talking too?


    Her husband suspiciously stops talking abruptly.


    Instead of violating his privacy, Luscin chooses to look at the floor and doorway. She would not have noticed it had she not looked, an advanced version of one of Teums machines is deployed there on the floor. She¡¯s standing on it, it must have signaled someone was coming.


    Opening the door, she steps off the invisible tripwire and enters her room.


    Ignoring the machine, ¡°I heard you talking, do we have a visitor?¡±


    Teum looking guilty as a kid caught steeling candy, ¡°No, I was just thinking out loud.¡±


    ¡°Think about what?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, important.¡±


    Luscin, could keep prying but instead comments, ¡°You shouldn¡¯t leave that out in the open like that.¡±


    Teum knows precisely what she¡¯s talking about, ¡°Right, I¡¯ll put it away immediately.¡±


    Picking up the metal box gifted by the strange masked assassin, Teum stuffs it in the large side pocket on his left thigh.


    Feeling responsible Luscin offers, ¡°Maybe I should be the one to carry that, it¡¯s not your burden to bear.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this already, the box is too big and would stand out if you carried it. I can carry it concealed without looking funny, while you look four months pregnant with this under your shirt.¡±


    Luscin mischievously digs, ¡°Thinking about me being pregnant, are you trying to tell me something?¡±


    Blushing because he often thinks about having children with Luscin, Teum doesn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Well, I guess you can keep it in your pocket, but make sure it stays secured. You remember how many times it was almost stolen when we first arrived in Twoya.¡±


    Teum buttons the pocket flap and pats his thigh to show the box is secure.


    Satisfied, Luscin changes topics, ¡°I¡¯m hungry¡±


    Rubbing her stomach, ¡°I feel like I¡¯m eating for two.¡±


    Relieved he didn¡¯t have to confess to Luscin that he was talking to Selkie, Teum jokes back, ¡°Careful what you say, you might trick yourself into ovulating and you know I¡¯m already consenting.¡±


    Picking up a sock from the floor Luscin throws it at Teums face, ¡°You¡¯re such a brute. Is that all you think about?¡±


    ¡°Only when your around, baby.


    ¡°What do you say to us doing a practice run before we go out to eat?


    ¡°Maybe you will be eating for two!¡±


    Jumping into her husbands arms, ¡°Practice makes perfect, I always say.¡±


    The Void


    Selkie, the voice called me Selkie, is that who I am?


    He¡¯s full of doubt, his recollection of the life associated with that name must belong to someone else, they can¡¯t be his. This Selkie had a life with memories of a wedding. Most of his life was spent alone, feeling scared until she came along, the little girl with the black hair. He and the other children would whisper her name when they needed to be brave. They would say it over and over, Luscin ¨C Luscin ¨C Luscin, until they felt brave enough to continue.


    She saved Selkie, then he was supposed to save her, but now he¡¯s here in the dark, alone, but not alone. The little girl with the black hair was with him for a while, her presence was so close he didn¡¯t have to say her name to feel brave.


    Now she¡¯s gone, and there¡¯s a new presence. The presence is not as soothing as the little girl with black hair, but it¡¯s kind and it talks to him.


    Now the presence feels different, warm, familiar, she¡¯s here too.


    Selkie, that¡¯s his name after all, basks in the warmth of Teum and Luscin¡¯s love.