《The Corvus Saga : The Recluse King  (Minor Hiatus)》


 Chapter 1: Birds know home (Prologue 1)

    The deck lurched under his feet as the breeze became a gust. He would''ve lost his footing if he hadn''t done this all his life. Instead of stumbling or falling overboard and becoming a laughing stock (again), he moved onward with the practised ease of any sailor twice his age. At least until one such sailor stuck his foot out and sent him spinning down for a hard greeting with the worn out deck.


    Hearty laughter tore through the receding wind as he sat up, glowering at the joyous men, before their contagious laughs caused a chuckle to escape his lips before he could stop it. They took this as their cue to cheer in delight, and start their laughter anew. With an exasperated sigh, he stood, wiping the salted dust from his clothes, unable to hide the smile that their laughter always brought him.


    He felt a wetness on his face and reached to touch it. ¡®Maybe the sea sprayed me when I fell? Or was it a prank?¡¯ He thought absently, taking his hand away to inspect the source of the feeling.


    Red.


    The deepest red there is. His stomach tightened, as he pulled a cloth from his pocket and dabbed at his bloody nose. Gutting fish, filleting eels, de-shelling crabs and lobsters, none of them posed a problem to him and his stomach. Only the sanguine sheen of human blood turned his stomach and chilled his blood. Its vibrant colour was so deep and bright that it just felt¡­wrong.


    Gill Saila, a boy of 17 years, former dockhand, up and coming sailor. Born to a loving family of sailors and sail makers. His parents were Didric and Maria Saila, a former military sailor and the second best seamstress in the northern half of the mainland Havare. A happy family born and raised by the sea for generations and living at peace. At least until Maria died, and then it all went to hell.


    Gill pushed the painful thoughts to the back of his head, where he could let them all out later, as was his usual bad habit. He shook the dull ache from his head, sifting his calloused fingers through his raven hair, and strode forward once more. Hurt or not he still had a job to do. Though his mind was not entirely on the task, the mild numbness of his head would not be the best thing to advertise. Though the slight spring had been taken from his step, the purpose and conviction that replaced it would turn the head of even the most grizzled veteran.


    ¡°Hey, Gils!¡± Called an overly chirpy and unbelievably irritating voice from above his head.


    ¡®Well,¡¯ Gill thought, ¡®I guess even purpose isn''t enough to ward off a pain in the neck.¡¯ He sighed, and looked up to the sneering face of Vexa Finn, the only other boy on the crew that was his age, but he wished he was the only one whenever he opened that stupidly perfect mouth of his that always seemed to be asking for a smack. And gods know he wanted to.


    ¡°What do you want, Vex? Stuck up there again?¡± Gill called, lacing in as much sarcasm as was humanly possible.


    ¡°Oh, I was just worried when I saw you hanging from the mast. Thought you might''ve died!¡± Vexa smiled innocently.


    ¡®If I have to hear another damn sail joke, I¡¯ll gladly hang myself,¡¯ Gill silently sighed at the mention of the same joke for the thousandth time. He was about to continue and finish the job he was given but something about today made him want to hit back for the first time. He thought for a second and had a stroke of sudden genius.


    ¡°You know, I saw you earlier as well. I threw you overboard with the rest of the fish guts, glad to see you can swim now!¡± Gill called, barely holding back his laughter.


    Vexa turned beet red, a stark contrast to his platinum blonde hair, as everyone who heard the dual insult burst out laughing. It was a common joke on board that he was the only boy they''d ever seen over the age of 6 who couldn''t swim, despite his last name being Finn, the very things that fish use to swim.


    ¡°S-Shut it, Gil! What are you even doing anyway? My job is way more important than yours!¡± Vexa shouted, trying not to fall off his perch on the spar from leaning too far over.


    ¡®That¡¯s exactly what I wanted to hear,¡¯ thought Gill with a huge grin spreading on his face. ¡°I''m holding the deck. Speaking of which, you missed a bit!¡± Gill shouts with an extreme satisfaction as Vexa¡¯s face paled and disappeared back above the spar.


    Gill smiled to himself as he relished this small power. Holding the deck was what the captain assigned to someone when he wanted to get drunk and black out for the day, so it happened fairly often. He strolled along the deck, the conviction in his step replaced by a happy bounce as he felt totally on top of the world.


    At least until he saw Arianna.


    The world turned to the sea that surrounded them and his legs turned to foam as he got lost in the glowing amber of her eyes and the priceless silver of her hair. It flowed over her shoulders like the crystal waves over golden sands, beauty and perfection in equal measure. There was a slight blush as well, that wasn¡¯t there wasn''t before. He snapped back to reality and realised with a creep of fear that he¡¯d been staring.


    She¡¯d hate him now. He knew it. He readied himself to jump over the side into the ocean, but then she smiled back at him, only a glimmer of red left on her cheeks, though still bright and vivid against her light, shining skin.


    She hopped down the stairs; her slim and toned body may have been smaller than everyone else''s, but it was easily twice as intimidating to see her prepare for a fight. She reached the final step which creaked like a ship about to split in two. She skipped forward and drew him into a spine breaking hug, which he had grown used to but still enjoyed more and more every time. As she let go, she smirked at him, mischievously. ¡°Gil, what were you looking at?¡± She poked him in the chest playfully. Even her voice sounded like liquid crystal.


    ¡°J-Just checking that you''re doing your job right.¡± Gill lied. He knew he was a bad liar, and so did she, but there was never anything more than mild teasing about it. The two had become fast friends when they met at the docks at Honiare, Gill¡¯s home. She had been the daughter of the first mate of a visiting fishing vessel, when an alcohol filled mutiny caused the death of her father and her being stranded there.


    She had lived at the docks from then on, becoming a first rate dockhand like Gill. He had been attracted to her the moment she arrived, which he had tried to keep a secret from her, but miserably failed at the first hurdle, causing her to take an interest in poking fun at his awkwardness. This led to constant teasing from her but he didn''t really mind, if it was her.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be working, Gils?!¡± Vexa squawked from his elevated lounging spot, flashing that damned smile of his to Arianna, probably blinding several birds with the glint off his teeth.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be cleaning, you blonde lighthouse?!¡± Arianna yelled over Gill¡¯s shoulder before he could turn around and reprimand him, but why would he have to after an insult of that caliber.


    Vexa¡¯s fury burnt so hot that he stood up and began angrily shouting obscenities and stamping his feet. Then he slipped, his rants turning to high pitched screams as he plummeted into the big arms of the passing chef.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Princesses fallin¡¯ from the sky? C¡¯mere love.¡± The chef puckered up in an exaggerated display of storybook affection. Vexa struggled like a captured salmon, writhing to be free of the chef¡¯s iron grip. Meanwhile, the entire ship was falling over in stitches of laughter, Gill and Arianna included.


    After the howls of laughter had died down, the work began again. Vexa climbed the mast again, his head hung in embarrassment. Gill and Arianna made their way to the helm to begin plotting their next leg of their trading journey.


    The news that he was the current deck holder spread fast so he was listened to quickly and the ship stayed sailing straight and true. After a few hours of command over the vessel, it was time for him to pass command on to someone else for the next few hours. He passed it to his god-father


    Mike Anchory; His Father¡¯s best friend since childhood and like a second parent to Gill after his mother died. Though there was always something about him that gave Gill a chill. It always came around when he was explaining the nuances and difficulties of making and properly weighting and preparing the anchors his God-father made.


    Gill slumped down in a chair next to Arianna, and sighed away the day¡¯s effort and stress. He would''ve fallen asleep right then and there but Arianna took his hand and squeezed it.


    ¡®I guess I''m not sleeping anytime soon,¡¯ He mused, the tiredness he felt drifted away as he looked towards her. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw that she had her face barely an inch away from his. She doubled down laughing at his reaction, and relaxed back in her chair, but didn''t let go of his hand. He turned to ask why, but she had already started speaking by the time he plucked up the courage.


    ¡°You know, at times like this, I''m glad life turned out this way, as crazy as that seems. After all, I met you didn¡¯t I?¡± She spoke as if she were talking to herself in a dream, but her eyes were wide open and she was smiling at him.


    ¡°Uhh¡­yeah! Of course. Meeting you and being your friend has been the best part of my life so far.¡± Gill tried to sound confidant but ended up cracking his voice a total of three times, which earned a stifled chuckle from her.


    ¡°Oh?¡± She said with a smirk playing on her lips. ¡°Just a friend?¡±


    Before he could answer that mind blower, there was a jarring screech in the air, giving a splitting headache to anyone that heard. Arren birds, the messengers of the seas since the seas have been explored. It dropped a package onto the deck just by Gill¡¯s feet and squawked with impatience.


    Groaning, he got out of his chair and reluctantly dropped Arianna¡¯s hand. He rang a bell by the steering wheel, calling for all letters and packages, which were all put into another message box for the huge bird to fly back. He knelt beside it, carefully avoiding its rapier like beak to replace the box on its harness. He stood up and offered it one of the dried mackerel fillets that they accept as payment for delivery. Accepting the salty meal greedily, the bird spread its massive wings and shot like lightning back into the sky, making its return trip.


    Gill turned around to see Arianna raise an eyebrow at him. It seems the mood has shifted from where it was before, but that didn¡¯t stop his heart from racing and his mind from going haywire thinking about what she said and what it meant. Did she mean it? Is she lying? What does she really think of him? Did this mean that she wanted to-


    ¡°Gil, you''re staring again¡± She said with another raised eyebrow.


    He snapped back into reality and realised he was staring into her eyes again, a knowing and playful grin on her face.


    ¡°W-What? No I''m not! I''m a good, decent son!¡± His voice cracked, diminishing any semblance of manliness that he may have had, to which she only raised an eyebrow and smirked. He tried hide his blush by going through the package for anything for either of them. He heard her laugh just as he found a package with her name on it. He decided to have a bit of revenge.


    ¡°Think fast!¡± Gill said, tossing the small package to her. She caught it out the air quickly and expertly, as if she¡¯d done it thousands of times perfectly before. ¡®Damn. She''s so perfect its painful.¡¯ He mused as he found one for himself. As he shredded open the parchment that had a string through it, easy for tearing, he took out 2 letters and a small cloth bag.


    He tore open the first letter, then before he could read it, he heard her take in a nervous breath. ¡®Arianna? Nervous? What, has the sea opened or something?¡¯ He wondered in amusement, while turning to look at her and freezing in surprise.


    She was blushing. A flush of deep pink and red coated her whole face, as she was looking down at her feet trying and failing to stumble over words. He was stunned. This was nothing like the chirpy, confidant Arianna he knew. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she spoke.


    ¡°H-Hey, Gil?¡± She stuttered, looking up to see that I was already looking at her, which only deepened her red tint even more. ¡°You know. What I said earlier. About¡­¡± she trailed off and looked at her feet.


    Starting to get slightly worried, and nervous and terrified himself, Gill took a few deep breaths of his own and finally spoke up. ¡°About? About us?¡± He said slowly, trying no keep his voice level. Despite his awkwardness, he wasn''t completely clueless about love.


    She caught her breath and looked him dead in the eye. Her own amber eyes glistening like perfect garnets on display in a rose garden. ¡°W-Would you ever consider me for the f-future?¡± She stumbled through the words like a baby horse over a gangplank. They sounded perfect to Gill. He opened his mouth to say yes and make himself the happiest he''d ever been before.


    ¡°Oi! Ari! Get yourself over here, we need your muscles!¡± Yelled Mike, interrupting the moment between them, and causing his highflying heart to dip slightly.


    She looked at Gill, and burst out laughing. So did he. They shared that moment together, before she stood up and put her hand on his shoulder. ¡°Typical right? Won''t be a moment, Gil.¡± She said the words like a song, and skipped along to help raise another sail to catch some more wind.


    Sighing, Gill looks at the letters and pouch, thinking that whatever they contained could not possibly dampen his mood, because he was the happiest he''d ever been. He tore through the seal of the first letter and flicked it open, eager to see what he''d been sent. ¡®There''s no way that these will be anything bad, everything''s so good today.¡¯ He sang to himself in his head. It turns out that he was wrong.


    A notice for Gill Saila.


    Your family and all their property, ownings and earnings have been taken in by order of the Sicilian family, due to an overdue payment from 174 years prior to this notice. When you are next able, please visit in order to discuss the terms of this agreement. Best regards,


    Aola Sicilian.


    ¡®What? 174 years?? Are they seriously taking everything for a century and a half old promise?¡¯ He thought, as his blood starting boiling and his vision began turning red from the seething rage that was building. His head was splitting, he didn¡¯t stop to think why but it gave him more reason to be furious. He glared at the other items with his name printed on them and tore through the seal of the next letter, looking for something to be angrier at. The moment the words hit his eyes, his anger melted and he collapsed onto his knees.


    Dearest Gill Saila,


    It breaks my heart to send this letter to such a nice boy as yourself but you should know as soon as possible. I am sending this letter to inform you that your father passed away earlier today, after receiving several fatal stab wounds from thieves who cornered him and stabbed him multiple times. I did what I could to help him and ease his passing, but there was nothing that I could do. I am truly sorry that you had to find out by way of a letter but I thought it better you know fast rather than at the better time. My deepest condolences,


    Your godmother, Elizabeth Anchory.


    He couldn''t read the last line clearly. The parchment was already soaked through with tears and his eyes felt like they''d been dunked in lava and thrown in salt. He couldn''t speak. All that came out were choked sobs and feeble sounds of half formed words. His head thumped, splintering his mind with the sheer pain and agony. His mind flashed images. He didn''t know how to follow them. He didn¡¯t see the point.


    His father and him mourning by the sea. His first steps on the sea. His first fight. His first battle. Slaying men by the dozen with a curving, wave like sword cloaked in green magic. Drowning, under the weight of a military anchor, as he plunges into the abyss.


    ¡°What?¡± He whispered to himself, cradling his head in agony. ¡°What is this? Who is this?¡± His breathing becomes fast, irregular. He''s primed for fight or flight. He trembles as he opens the pouch and dust falls out. Followed by a shattered shell. His mothers shell.


    In the distance, he can hear Arianna calling out to him, if he was ok, the shadows of the crowded crew members around him. The creaking of the deck beneath him. His tears felt like magma on his face, the boat thrashing from side to side. He felt lost in the web of screams and tears and cries for help.


    He snaps. Everything goes blurry. The world spins, lurches, he falls, he flies. He sees nothing but a blur of blue, green and red. So much red. The wood splintering and breaking is all he hears mixed in with something. Something else. Screams.

 Chapter 2: How the Nest Burns (Prologue 2)

    An endless void in every conceivable direction filled with infinite dark and endless memories. Gill remembered some. His mother. His father. But he recognised no others. An abbey the size of a small mountain, faces of people his age and far older glowed with the warmth of fondness, but no explanations as to why.


    Then there was something else. A short-sword, curving this way and that to form a wave of glowing steel, in his hand and flowing across a plain of bloodshed like a needle through a cloth. A kris blade, a rarity and difficult to acquire, much less use, but it was different somehow. Ethereal and green.


    ¡®What? Why am I thinking about this? I''m killing people!¡¯ Gill yelled at himself, but no sound came out. He felt sick, the endless falling of the void churned as if it were the freezing oceans colliding with a boiling storm. The silence overpowered him, and he curled into a ball to make it stop.


    It did. There was no more silence, but the gently bobbing of wood in the water. Then there came the pain. A headache split through the world and broke into Gill¡¯s skull, flooring him once more. But then it was gone, the world was back as it should be.


    Quiet, calm, the gentle movement of the water and a warm feeling of his hand being held. ¡®Arianna¡¯ He thought fondly and sat up to look at her. He didn¡¯t find her anywhere, much less beside him. Instead of seeing the worn but living deck of the ship, he saw the mast lying in the water. He looked further, confused and his head still fuzzy and spinning. Then he saw it.


    Carnage. Carnage and devastation. What Gill thought was the infirmary floor beneath him was a section of the deck barely twice the size of him. Pieces of the deck lying twisted on the surface of the water, bobbing peacefully. The keel slowly turning like a spit, a small sheen of red on the surface the only indication of its movement. The sails bundled and torn in ever tightening ropes and blocks. Barrels and their contents burst like fireworks all over the surface of the perfect blue.


    ¡°At least the fish will have a feast¡± Gill chuckled to himself. He looked over to his left to share the joke with whoever was holding his hand. He was met by green. A glowing green chain wrapped around his hand and flowing out to fuse into a glowing green anchor sticking out of a separate section of the ship.


    A great big bar of green, ethereal steel, sharpened to a point, with a curved crossbar moving back and sharpening to separate barbs on the tips. Receding into a solid ring that connected it to the chain, a long mass of unforgiving rings that must¡¯ve been 10 meters long if it was fully stretched. The anchor was over half his height and looked to weight close to a quarter of a ton, but seemed inviting.


    Gill ran his free hand over the chain. It was warm, unfamiliar but comfortable, almost moulded to the shape of his hand whenever he touched it. It felt right. He wrapped a few more coils round his hand and whipped the chain, the anchor flying free of the wood and sailing towards him. While his mind was yelling at him to run from the massive object, he didn¡¯t move, he knew he was safe, though it was just a hunch.


    He caught it deftly just before it reached his head, as if he''d done it his whole life. Staring down at the magical object in disbelief, he spun it around himself. It weighed nothing. It zipped around him like a fly with a nose for sugar, quick, precise and thirsty for a fight.


    At that thought, Gill¡¯s heart quickened with excitement and his mouth twisted into a crazed smile. He span the anchor this way and that, getting a feel for it as if he had held this anchor and fought with it every second of his life. He enjoyed it. The idea that he could tear anyone he wanted to pieces and no one could stop him.


    He spotted a target out the corner of his eye and flung his strength through the chain, bringing down an explosion of splintering wood and misting green and red. Gill pumped with adrenaline as he launched the anchor back to himself, looking at the anchor with a breathless pride.


    Then he felt sick when he saw the red.


    Gill dropped the anchor in revulsion when he realised it was splattered with blood and threw himself backwards, scurrying back in fear of himself, and what he was doing. He stared down at his hands, his stomach tightening and his throat gagging.


    ¡®What are you doing? What is this? Who am i?¡¯ Gill ran his hands over his face and through his hair to try and calm himself down, but he couldn''t stop himself shaking as he looked at the red-stained ghost of an anchor and chain that had latched onto his soul.


    He looked over to see what he destroyed. He froze. His god-father lay in the crater of shattered and splintered wood, torn open and in pieces. He didn¡¯t look human. Closer to an art piece that imitated a monster. He only knew that it was him because of the unmistakable tattoo of a dolphin and steering wheel bright against his tanned ankle. Gill felt his eyes well up and his chest start to explode. He scrambled to the nearest patch of exposed ocean and prepared to release the revulsion that was so familiar but so much more intense and powerful than he thought possible.


    He sneezed.


    The sea air blew by as a deafening silence of a calm breeze broke his eardrums and tore through his hair like a hurricane through a Black Forest.


    ¡°What?¡± Gill stared at himself in the calm water, not recognising his eyes. ¡°Why don¡¯t I feel anything?¡± He ran his hands through his hair and tried to tear his mind out and throw it as far away as it would go. ¡°What happened to me? What is that thing?¡± The questions rolled out from him like a madman¡¯s ramblings of gods and the end times.


    The only thing that kept him from throwing himself into the water and letting the ocean swallow him in a sweet, comforting death was the anchor. It oozed comfort and ease like the haunting miasma of a sirens song. A small voice in his head was telling him it was ok. He did well. He''d killed so many so fast. It was impressive, awe inspiring to be so powerful. He was strong, no, a god to them now. He could kill anyone who-


    Gill''s scream cut through the gentle breeze as he slammed his head into the remnants of the deck that was his only lifeline over and over and over. His vision blurred and agony soared through his body every time the splintering wood rose to meet his skull, but he continued nonetheless. His head was screaming for him to stop, to keep himself from harm. To run and hide from what was causing him this hurt, but he continued to pound his head down over and over.


    He did not know how long he was doing it, but by the time he stopped, so too had the little voice, and and his own screams. His breath hoarse and painful, his head as if it were caught in a hellfire, he looked up to the sky and saw the red run from his eyes.


    Bloodied tears ran from his face as he curled up in the gentle sun, seeking respite from this abyss of despair, trying to find solace in the gentle motion of the waves and the bobbing of the wreckage of his life. Comfort soon enveloped him like a blanket of safety, promising to make him better. He smiled through his red tears and opened his eyes.


    He was holding the anchor like a baby would hold their mother, the chain wrapping around him like the protective hand of family. He tightened his grip, not daring to let this feeling go away. He was safe now. He felt good. He could never be alone anymore.


    Alone. Gill¡¯s eyes snapped open and he sat up like a catapult. ¡®Arianna. Where is she?¡¯ He chastised himself for relaxing before he could find her. He unwrapped the chains from him and scrambled free from the anchor as he blinked through the now drying blood on his face. Giving up, he dunked his head in the ocean from the edge of his safe section of deck. He recoiled after a few seconds, his face a map of stinging splinters and cuts, but they could wait. He had to find her. He looked over to a free floating piece of the keel and had an idea. He looked back to the anchor. It was gone.


    Gill¡¯s heart sank and his mind shrank back into a corner of fear as he realised that his only lifeline was gone, and he turned back to look into the wreckage, when his hand brushed a chain. He looked down confused, seeing nothing. He reached out and felt the air. There was a chain there, and the anchor. He stared in awe as he grabbed the chain from thin air and it burst into vision with a cloud of green ethereal steel and fell into his hands.


    A small smile played on his lips that he barely noticed as he aimed his throw to the floating keel. He threw it as hard as hard as he could manage, and overshot by twice the distance. ¡®Huh. I guess I''m stronger that I thought.¡¯ He mused as he reeled in the ever extendable chain.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    The anchor flew twice more, once to reach the keel and pull it in to use as a foothold, the other to dissuade an overly curious shark that smelt the disaster. He hopped from each piece of wreckage to the next, as if the ship were still in one piece and he was changing the sails. Just any other day, nothing different from the usual chores of everyday. Besides the death, destruction and disturbing images and feelings.


    He threw the anchor down and used his hands to climb particularly uneven sections of his life, but simply grabbed it out of its ethereal limbo whenever a spar or shark needed smashing. It was easy, fun work. If it wasn''t for the crew.


    Everywhere, there lay pieces of eviscerated human. Shark bites, crushed beneath exploding wood, tangled and torn apart from the web-like trap of ropes and rigging. There were other injuries that were not so easily identified. Heads and chests caved in from something heavy. Something thirsty for blood. Limbs and torsos split into pieces from something that could not be identified.


    But what disturbed him more than anything was himself. Gill¡¯s stomach didn¡¯t turn, he didn¡¯t bat an eye at the blood and gore. The only thing he felt was the sadness of never seeing them again, but the violence was nothing. No. Worse than nothing. It was normal.


    Gill¡¯s heart hurt when he thought that. What was he becoming? To not bat an eye at a scene like this.


    ¡®Am I a monster?¡¯ The thought caught his throat, but he couldn''t tell if it was a sob or a chuckle. That''s what terrified him more than anything. Losing himself to something evil, and hurting those closest to him. But that didn¡¯t happen. Something happened to the boat, something that wanted to destroy it. Gill was going to find out what it was, and make it suffer. Make it hurt. Make it die.


    He hit the side of his head to clear these thoughts that plagued his mind. He looked around, only just realising that his thoughts had clouded his eyes like a fog of misery and now he couldn''t tell which way he had checked. Gill hung his head in disappointment. He''d let his mind wander and now he was lost amongst the wreckage.


    He was about to collapse as the weight of his loneliness began to weigh on him, when movement flashed in the corner of his eye. He raised his head and wrapped his hand around the invisible chain, ready to pull it into reality, when he realised it wasn''t just another shark or bird.


    Vexa


    He lay sprawled out on the same spar that he had been working on, his legs twisted at sickening angles with shards of exploded wood the size of Gillian¡¯s hand jutting from his back and left arm. His only limb that wasn''t shattered or pinned by hardcore splinters was his right arm, but it looked just as bad.


    His hand was raw and bloody from clawing his way out of the water, deep gashes ran down his forearm from what seemed to be the claws of hungry birds, though there were none left in the sky. His face was red with exertion, soaked from ocean water, and there was a puce stain on his once platinum-blond hair, which had sealed his left eye shut.


    Gill stood in shock and awe for a moment, marvelling at how he was still alive at all with wounds as grave as his. He shook the feeling off and began picking his way over the exploded hull as quickly as it would allow him. ¡°Vexa! Hold on!¡± Gill screamed with his spare breath, just as his foothold crumbled and sent him tumbling into the water. He shook his head to get his bearings and opened his eyes.


    He wished he hadn''t. Axel sharks. Hundreds of them. Big enough to eat a person in two bites and fast enough to avoid bullets if need be. They turned to look at this brand new morsel in the feast and began unfurling their titanic fins. The perfect size and power to launch themselves and end him in a second.


    Gill didn¡¯t stop to think. He grabbed the chain from wherever it was and threw it upwards as the green light exploded into reality. The anchor tangled itself in the twisted sails and ropes, and held on just enough for him to scramble back to the relative safety of the wreckage.


    The still silence rolled on for second after second, deafening and oppressive. Gill began to creep slowly over the twisted wood, careful to keep himself quiet. The silence was cut only moments later by Vexa screaming. Gill bolted to the edge to see what had happened, only to be met with his once-rival only half of his former self, the other half taking refuge on the inside of a fleeing Axel shark.


    The scream rang out through the wreckage as Vexa¡¯s life slipped away as he stared into the sky, looking for peace in his last moments of agony, but finding only pain and fear.


    ¡°Vexa¡­¡±. Gill spoke without any other words.


    Then he saw red.


    Rage pierced his heart like a harpoon in the side of an innocent whale. He didn¡¯t stop to think and assess his anger before he threw his anchor towards the ocean like a meteor, and sent it slicing through the ocean like a dagger through a traitor¡¯s heart. It tore through the terrified shark¡¯s side and lodged itself in its bones in an agonising embrace.


    With a scream of bestial fury, he hauled the chain and anchor back, taking the foolish shark with it. The surface of the ocean bulged then burst. Erupting in a riptide of green ethereal steel, grey white flesh and the vivid red gushing from the wound. As it became airborne, it began to flail, trying to flee from an inevitably painful death, writhing in sheer agony and terror.


    Gill was beyond caring at this point.


    The world moved slower than ever before. Slower than when he fell from the top of the mast and saw the ocean rush to meet him. But this time, he didn¡¯t slow down with it. He was fast. He clutched the anchor with his left hand, it sat like it was always meant to be there, and he intended to use it as much. Gill ripped it free from the squirming beast, shredding its dorsal fin from its slippery body.


    His rage turned to power as he brought his right fist down onto the shark¡¯s worthless skull, launching it back into the ocean of its home, filled with its hungry family, who would just as soon devour one of their own as any other worthless morsel they come across.


    Gill collapsed to his knees, his breath a raw desert of rage and anguish. He stared at what remained of Vexa, his fury replaced by grief as the ache of exertion began to seep into his muscles as he craved the salty air. He vaguely saw the twitching form of the dorsal fin as it slopped off the wreckage and into the water, joining the rest of the carcass. A small sob escaped his mouth as he cradled his head in his hands.


    The small voice in the back of his head spoke again, but this time, Gill chose to listen. Axel sharks, the most feared beast in this side of the ocean, and he tore one up like a rag doll. Made it suffer for what it did to Vexa. He did what was right, what needed to be done, and what felt good. He was strong and nothing could stop him anymore.


    A small smile crept along Gill¡¯s face as he relished these thoughts. ¡®I am strong¡¯. His sobs turned to a laugh. Salty air and a warm, gentle sun that were flooding his senses changed to a cold, comfortable green haze as he he held the anchor to the sky as if it were a god and the chain wrapped him in a homely embrace as his manic howls of laughter pierced the sky. This was him. What he always should have been. He was perfect here. All his insane glee and mad excitement were shattered at the sound of a quiet whisper in the distance. ¡°Vexa¡­?¡± Gill''s face froze as a blazing tear rolled down the side of his face.


    Arianna.


    The Anchor and chain vanished as Gill began clambering up the side of the broken hull and darted his eyes desperately. ¡®I forgot. How the hell did I forget?¡¯ He screamed internally as his heart rate soared with desperation. ¡°Arianna!¡± He screamed without hope. Movement caught his eye and he saw her. His heart stopped. ¡°Oh gods¡±. The words seized up in his throat.


    She was broken. That was the only way that Gill could think to describe her. The silver of her hair had turned into clumps of dried sap and blood, mixing to form the colour that hell would decorate with. Her legs jutting at angles that could turn the devil¡¯s stomach. Her back twisted and cracked like the ridge of a mountain range. Her face a map of open wounds and dark masses of caved in skull.


    Her once beautifully pure amber eyes spilling blood beneath her and covered by a thick layer of bubbling red. A nearby plank of wood had exploded, leaving a spike the size of Gill¡¯s arm pinning her in place. It wasn¡¯t easy to tell it was her, and just as hard to tell if she was human. Gill¡¯s throat clenched as he held back screaming her name. The brutality of her body was nothing to the freezing terror and inferno of hatred that lay behind her eyes. Every ounce of it, aimed towards Gill.


    Arianna screamed as she reared up, tearing her body apart as the plank stayed firmly lodged beneath her. She swung her bloody and misshapen arms at the wood, desperately trying to free herself as she looked at Gill in a crazed fear. Gill snapped back into reality and began sprinting towards her through the pieces of wreckage that snagged his feet and tripped him up. Her eyes widened as she bit back the agony to beat at the wood, barely making a dent.


    ¡°Stay¡­away¡­monster¡± Arianna gasped as she tried again and again to free herself, groaning from the torture.


    Gill stopped dead in his tracks, only feet away from her.


    ¡°Monster?¡± He whispered, half to himself.


    ¡°I''m not the monster, I didn¡¯t do this.¡± He told himself.


    The plank splintered as it split in half, tearing out Arianna¡¯s side and freeing her. She wailed like a mother losing her child as she bore into Gill with eyes blazing with fury.


    ¡°You killed everyone. You did this!¡± She panted with bloody tears streaming down her broken cheeks. She looked back to an open patch of sea and lowered her head.


    ¡°Go to hell, you demon.¡± She spat quietly.


    She threw herself into the crystal sea, polluting it with a sheen of crimson, which immediately exploded as she was torn to shreds by the feasting sharks. Her limbs floated to the surface, and were quickly stolen away by the warring beasts. When the water stilled again, there was nothing but the remains of the plank, and several clumps of once silver hair.


    Gill could do nothing but watch. His feet heavier than his anchor, his throat tighter than a brand new chest. His mind reeling as memories began to flood in. The anchor and chain as they appeared. The demonic fury that enveloped him, and how it guided him with his new strength to obliterate everything he saw. Terrified crew mates were smashed into the ground. The mast was an easy target to destroy with a single swing. Vexa earned a direct obliteration for all the jesting he once did. Arianna, tears in her eyes and afraid. She was in his way.


    She was right. It was him. He was the monster. He killed everyone. The quiet voice in the back of his head was silent. Arianna was wrong about one thing.


    Gill turned to walk away, his head heavy with anguish. A crow cawed overhead, observing the massacre with a curious look. Gill didn''t wonder why or how it got there. He lifted his head and spoke with a voice that belonged to someone worse than all of the world¡¯s evil combined.


    ¡°I can¡¯t go to hell. I''m already there.¡±

 Chapter 3: Finding New Trees (Prologue 3)

    The walk back through the wreckage was silent. No creaking wood, no ravenous sharks, no survivors crying for help. The only thing heard for miles around was the cold void that had replaced Gill¡¯s heart. On the other hand, what he heard was vastly different. The small voice in the back of his mind was chattering its praise like an enslaved parrot, nattering and squawking constantly with no corner of relief to run to.


    Gill occupied his depressive time by figuring out how long he could silence it by hitting his head, with anything that was nearby. By the time he got back to the spot he woke from, he felt as though he''d gone swimming by how damp his head was.


    Sitting down on a small piece of twisted mast, Gill unfocused his vision and let his head flop forward, scarlet regret flowing over his eyes.


    ¡®It was me¡¯. The thought slammed him repeatedly, harder than any blow could ever hope to. Hopeless and weighing depression sank into Gill¡¯s bones as he felt himself collapse to his knees. ¡®I should just throw myself to the sharks. People would be safer that way, and it¡¯s not like there''s anything I have that I didn¡¯t just destroy.¡¯


    Gill stared into the water, his steel grey eyes blinking back at him. He moved to the edge of the wood, staring into the abyss below him, preparing himself for its cool embrace. There was nothing left for him in this world, maybe he¡¯d find forgiveness in the next.


    The water rushed up to meet his face, slapping him with a sapphire embrace, both chilling and comforting. He let himself be taken, falling deeper and deeper, darker and darker. Light streamed past him, illuminating the sanguine cloud around his head. The sharks would be back any minute, it wont be long now. His eyes opened, but he couldn''t see through the lights above him.


    ¡®What? Light?¡¯ That¡¯s when it struck him. There''s still someone he has, though there''s no chance that she¡¯d take him in after she found out. But right now, she was all he had.


    His god-mother Elizabeth. She¡¯d always seen him as a child, and always chuckled at every little thing he did, encouraging him to just be himself. It was the closest thing he had to motherly comfort after Gill¡¯s mother died.


    He ran his hand up the glowing chain that flashed into existence, catching the edge of a sail, and heaved himself up so quickly that his ears popped painfully. Gill breached the surface of the water with a pleading gasp, and lay himself down on the warm wreckage. The small voice told him to find a way to shore, find other people and make them his own. The chattering of power became a discordant choir of voice upon voice upon voice.


    ¡®You¡¯re a god to them.¡¯


    ¡®Make them submit.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them all.¡¯


    Gill slammed his fist onto the deck, sending splinters this way and that, shaking the voices aside. He ran his hands through his raven-hair, stiff with salt. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you try to tell me, I¡¯m going home.¡± Gill was almost unnerved by how hoarse and pained his voice was. He decided he¡¯d have a drink the moment he got back to land.


    He grabbed his anchor into existence, its lack of encumbrance still a curiosity, and slung it through the air in low arc, trapping itself in the torn sails and what remained of the rigging. Gill steeled himself as he planted his feet in the twisted planks and heaved his section of the hull forward. If he was going to get to land then he would need to sail, and for that he''d need to get creative with the pieces of the once mighty vessel.


    He had to scavenge over the ever expanding range of the devastation to find pieces that he hadn¡¯t destroyed as much as the others. The feeling of dread and regret hung low over the bobbing splinters, but no bodies to compliment to constant sheen of red over every speck of ocean.


    Arianna¡¯s last biting retort clung to Gill like a cold sweat in the night, chilling and burning in equal measure. The voices punctuated this dread by congratulating Gill at every opportunity for the scale of this annihilation, and how impressive his power is. The only saving grace throughout the reliving of this was the only voice that Gill was willing to listen to. His own.


    Assembling the raft was comforting in a twisted way. Gill and his father had often made challenges for themselves for builds and devices. After leaving the naval forces, Didric Saila had taken a fascination with mechanisms, especially firearms. He had given Gill years of crafting experience in smithing and woodworking, as his mother had taught him sewing and tailoring. They had always said that if he hadn¡¯t chose to be a sailor, he could¡¯ve been a respected artisan in any field he desired. Though that couldn¡¯t happen anymore, he¡¯d be a heartless fool if he let those skills go to waste.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to stop by our house and pick up some supplies.¡± Gill made a mental list of things to grab, like his sewing kit, or his dad¡¯s projects. If any were left that is.


    Losing himself in his thoughts made the work light and fast, despite how the sun was touching the horizon when the sail finally rose. He mulled over the things he had seen throughout the last few steps of his life, the things he had lost and the cries he had heard. Then there was the echoes of things he had never seen, but were all too familiar. The memories of fight and battles which he was immersed in, flailing around like a madman with ethereal green weapons and black coils of lightning bursting from his hands. He was sure that this was him, but his hands were different.


    There was a tattoo of a snake on his wrist, his skin was as pale as Arianna¡¯s was.


    Gill knew that this wasn¡¯t him, but he remembered everything clearly. The questions multiplied like locusts in his head, screaming a discord with the chorus of voices that chattered away as if they could do nothing else. A writhing mass of oppressive wailing threatening to take it all away and make him do something evil again.


    Gill curled into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, in an effort to free himself from the noise. They took this as their cue to give everything they have, an outcry of agony that pierced everything that Gill was and could be. Stabbing him through the heart and mind to make him suffer. It was everything that Gill could do not to tear his own head off to stop it. But in all this hell, there was a solace at the very bottom, a place where no light should be but was there nonetheless.


    ¡°Silence, mongrels!¡±


    Gill was taken aback. The voice was as soft and soothing as satin, but as harsh and commanding as a naval admiral. Like liquid gold running through his mind and guarding him. Only then Gill realised, the voices had stopped, the noise had stopped. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, silence settled over the breezy waters.


    ¡°You owe me, cabin boy.¡± The soothing tones of command swam through Gill¡¯s mind like a stream of gemstones. The sound hit his soul like a carriage, and slammed the tiredness and exhaustion into his bones.


    Gill collapsed and the dark tide of sleep gripped him and dragged him into the abyss. There was a single thought that crossed his mind before he was taken by sleep.


    ¡®This is too many voices for me.¡¯


    Gill¡¯s eyes shot open and were immediately pierced by the sunlight of noon. That was strange, he fell asleep at dusk, but no time seemed to have passed. He took a deep breath and immediately clutched his throat. It was so dry and parched that it almost felt like it was crumbling away. Gill¡¯s stubble scratched his hands as he tried to massage out his sore throat.


    ''Stubble? How long was I sleeping?''


    Water. He needed water, or he wouldn¡¯t last much longer. He desperately looked around, for anything that could save him. He gave up as his vision blurred and he lost all his strength


    A short distance away from Gill¡¯s improvised vessel, a fisherman reeled in his line in disappointment. Nothing was seeming to bite today, maybe it was the tides? Looking up, he noticed a small streak of white sail on the water. Too small for a sailing ship, but bigger than a rowboat. ¡°What the ¡®eavens?¡± The fisherman clambered to his oars and rowed with more power than ever before. He noticed the young man sprawled on the deck of the vessel, which he marvelled was still floating with how cobbled together it was.


    Dragging the boy on board, the fisherman listened for a heartbeat, desperately searching for life. He almost gave up, but there was a slight flutter just as he brought his ear away. His face beaming, the man laid Gill down and snatched a flask from under the steering wheel, and pressed it lightly to Gill¡¯s lips.


    Gill woke immediately after the sweet water has turned his throat from a desert to an oasis. Gasping for air and grabbing the closest thing he could find, Gill found himself face to face with a weathered and grizzled old man, with a face alight with glee. Gill vaguely heard a kind voice telling him to rest and not move, which he took as his cue to reach towards the flask of water, which the man gave to him happily.


    Gill felt time speed up as he lied down and observed the old man expertly tying up his lines and compiling his minimal catch into a small bag, which he hung off the small wheelhouse.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°What''s yer name, lad?¡± The old man inquired, kneeling down.


    Gill lowered his eyes. The man would probably throw him overboard if he knew what he had done, but he couldn''t exactly lie to the man who saved his life, and the seafaring communities are so tight-knit that anyone could tell a lie from miles away.


    ¡°Gill. Gill Saila¡±.


    ¡°Oh!¡± The man¡¯s face turned to surprise, then sadness. ¡°Didric¡¯s boy, eh?¡± He sat down beside Gill with a laboured sigh. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear about yer dad, Gill. Have ye heard?¡± The man turned to look at Gill with deep sympathy in his eyes.


    Gill nodded, his eyes lowered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, laddie. Just leave it to old Eren, I¡¯ll get ye home.¡±


    Gill¡¯s eyes widened. Eren? The old fisherman on the horizon? Gill had always wanted to have a long talk with the living legend himself, but his dad always took him our for drinks before he could. And now he''d had his life saved by him. If his last few days had been different, he would be giddy with excitement and rocking the boat back and forth. He was had been a legend ever since the song was written about him and his heroic deeds during the last great north uprising.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be wantin¡¯ home, aye?¡± Eren spoke with a quiet sympathy, laying his hand on Gill¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Is there any home to go back to?¡± Gill kept his eyes low.


    ¡°Far as I know, Elizabeth still has an open door for ye. Ye want to go see her?¡±


    Gill looked into the gentle man¡¯s eyes, tears in his own. ¡°Please¡±. Gill¡¯s voice cracked and this throat caught.


    Eren smiled and nodded. ¡°Just ye rest easy now. I¡¯ll get ye there.¡±


    Those words pierced Gill¡¯s heart and the tears in his eyes began to flow. He curled into a ball on the deck and let the rhythm of the waves comfort him.


    ¡®There''s not much I can do about this, but I hope things become easier for me.¡¯


    As exhaustion took Gill, and sleep reared its head once more, the soothing voice that commanded the others reared it¡¯s head once more.


    ¡°You really think you¡¯re free from this? Na?ve little cabin boy, you''re going to suffer if you don¡¯t realise it by now. There''s no running from this.¡± Those words sparked images and dreams in the cold depths of slumber.


    The rotting and twisting limbs of trees tied a maze through cobblestone-laid streets. Green and sickening blacks swelled and exploded everywhere, from the obscured streets to the collapsed houses. There was a a willow tree in the town centre, its branches a sickly white and seemingly ready to blow away into the wind. Then, out of the once proud blacksmith, a woman emerged, dressed head to toe in hunting gear.


    Her red-black skin seemed to flow and ripple in the shadows of the ruins, as she furiously wiped her eyes and tugged spiked leaves from her short, brown hair. She stood out in the dead and dying surroundings, as she seemed to be the one part of the scene that actually looked like an inviting forest. She tugged at the spear on her back, making sure it¡¯s secure, and headed off through the undergrowth towards the willow. As the tree twisted and warped into an arch, inside of which the surroundings had changed, the image shifted and shattered.


    A white church, accented with red stained glass, standing in the centre of a large and beautiful city. It was three times as tall as the surrounding buildings at least, small clouds formed around the tips of its spires. Men and women in white and red cloaks streamed in and out, with ordinary citizens mixed among them with offerings and sick loved ones.


    There was a man standing in the centre of the archway, his close cropped orange hair a beacon amongst the sea of alabaster cloths. He had the physique of a sprinter, and the height to intimidate, but not terrify. His eyes were pointed upwards with a smile of hope on his tanned face. He looked down in surprise, as if he had been called, and made his way through the crowds to the dark centre of the church. The white of the church grew and expanded, until it became blinding.


    As the white faded, there was something new.


    3 men sitting on a boulder in the expansive, rolling hills of the midlands. They raised a glass to each other from golden goblets and laughed at something they said. One was dressed in a purple and silver robe, the glint of silver mail through the material. His face was old and wise, but cold and scheming all the same.


    The man on the right of the robed figure was a much less subtle person. Dressed head to toe in bright black armour, glints of silver flashed from the joints as accents of green and red complimented his scarred and jovial face, as if he enjoyed receiving them. He must''ve been 3 heads taller than the figure in robes, and far more honest and hardheaded.


    The final figure was the least subtle of them all. Gold. Everything was gold. Wearing light gold armour, scrolls of golden paper hung on his belt and a golden key hung close to his neck. His head was a perfectly placed map of blond hair and his eyes almost glowed with shifting silvers and blacks. He was neither tall, nor crooked, nor ripped with muscles, nor even scheming. His very presence oozed command and authority, a strict and ruthless fairness that would quell the disobedience of the angriest of monsters.


    They all raised their glasses to their mouths and drained the ruby liquid in seconds. The large man stood up, towering over the others, announcing something unheard, to which the others threw their head back in laughter. It was almost charming how their affection was so clear. The man in gold turned to face Gill, staring deep into his soul, enough to burn away all deceit. A wry smile spread across his face as the other figures faded into a white void.


    ¡°Better get up, cabin boy. I don¡¯t want you dead just yet after all.¡± His voice filled Gill with fear and ease in equal measure, but there was something about his tone that implied something. Something important.


    Danger.


    Gill¡¯s eyes flew open, to greet a dagger flashing towards his throat. Gill caught the hand that held it and threw it over his head. The body of the assailant sailed above and out of sight. Leaping to his feet, Gill steadied himself on the docked boat. He could vaguely hear cries of drowning behind him, but he was more concerned about the danger in front of him.


    A small militia of 30 or so guardsmen were forming a semi-circle around the entrance to the docks, 2 were close in front holding struggling people to the floor. And then there was the two that led it all.


    Aola Sicilian, and his son Athra The current heads of the most successful banking and loaning sharks in the north of the world. Well renowned for their ruthless interest rates and incredibly high tier sorcerers and sword dancers. Lethal in both the physical and social worlds.


    ¡®And responsible for killing your mother.¡¯


    ¡®Ending your family.¡¯


    ¡®Ruining your future.¡¯


    ¡®They probably killed your father too.¡¯


    ¡®They''re going to kill Elizabeth.¡¯


    ¡®Eren too.¡¯


    ¡®You have to stop them.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®KILL THEM.¡¯


    The voices returned like a hammer on an anvil, slamming into Gill over and over again. He clutched the sides of his head trying to stop them, and only succeeded in getting strange looks from the guardsmen. In the distance, Gill faintly heard Aola and Athra conversing.


    ¡°How far was he thrown, Father?¡±


    ¡°Hard to say. Thirty meters? Fifty? It was far, that I know.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to be a seasoned warrior to see that, Father.¡±


    ¡°And it doesn¡¯t matter if you''re a magical prodigy, I can still discipline you, boy.¡±


    Aola was a slim, tall, yet toned and controlled man, scars peppered his exposed forearms, and a close cut of dyed black hair was trimmed in a formal cut. He was clad in light, leather armour, covering a tailored shirt and trousers. His right wrist glowed with a golden wristband with a swallow imprinted on the top.


    Athra on the other hand, was short, pale, and every part of him was covered with a layer of fat. He was wearing a heavy, brown gown, still ruffled from sleep. His eyes were a dull blue, still red from sleep.


    If Gill wasn¡¯t on guard and being bombarded with insane, kill-happy voices, he''d be at Aola¡¯s feet begging to see his wrist band. Swallows were the king¡¯s chosen warriors, the order of 17 fighters that were the strongest and most skilled people to ever live. Their motto was ¡®a swallow on hand is a crown on the arm.¡¯


    Unfortunately, one was holding Elizabeth and Eren with knives to their throats.


    Aola took a few wary steps towards Gill, his hand on his sabre.


    ¡°How did you do that, boy?¡±


    Gill said nothing, instead pointing to Eliabeth and Eren. Aola raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°You want me to let them go? Why should I? They owe us.¡±


    ¡°Let them go. They did nothing.¡±


    ¡°They owe us. Nothing more.¡± Aola crossed his arms, looking at Gill with wary curiosity, as if he were a new magical creature, or a particularly colourful chicken.


    Athra threw a sneer at Gill, which was quickly retracted by a glance from his father. Aola turned back, taking a measured step closer.


    ¡°You came back alone? What happened to the rest of the crew?¡±


    Gill lowered his eyes, replying quietly, ¡°They''re all dead.¡±


    Athra dramatically turned his head to the side and cupped his ear. ¡°They''re WHAT? We can¡¯t hear you, peasant.¡± Athra called with false concern.


    Gill didn¡¯t know if he could hear him or not, but the expressions of horror and anguish on Elizabeth¡¯s and Eren¡¯s faces were clear. They heard, or at least figured it out. Gill¡¯s anger sparked inside him, fanned by the chorus of murderous voices and the letters that started this all.


    Gill raised his head, the air pressure around him spiked, the wooden docks began to creak violently with the unexpected force.


    ¡°They''re all dead. Every one of them.¡± Gill spoke loudly, his voice steeped in fury and anguish.


    Elizabeth screamed a wordless cry of anguish, falling to the docks and curling into a ball as the shocked guards moved their knives away from the prisoners throats. Eren joined her, hugging her close as tears streamed down his face as well. Athra looked taken aback, as if he wasn¡¯t expecting to actually be right. Only Aola seemed unfazed, and his serious expression turned to an amused chuckle.


    ¡°Nice show, boy. I see you''ve picked up a few magical party tricks. From where, I will find out soon enough. But for now, I¡¯ll see to it that you''re compensated as all liars should be. There''s no way that they''re all dead, and you alone lived. They''re probably landing somewhere differently whilst you distract us so that you can avoid the debts you all owe us. I¡¯ll show you how liars are compensated in our lines of work.¡±


    With that, Aola raised his hand, and the guards rushed to pick Eren and Elizabeth back up and put the knives to their throats once more.


    Seeing this, Gill tried to think desperately. He needed something to make him believe that there was no plot. He could find nothing. There was nothing. His anchor? What would that solve?


    Aola clenched his raised fist, signalling the guards to do the deed.


    ¡°WAIT!¡± Gill screamed with all his lungs, begging them to at least wait.


    They didn¡¯t.


    The scarlet that sprayed from their throats covered the docks in a vivid sanguine carpet, as their bodies fell to the ground and crunched lifelessly against the wood. A flap of black wings turned the eyes of several guards as a crow perched itself on a nearby mast, watching the events unfold.


    Gill could vaguely hear Aola still talking but it seemed miles away, irrelevant. Gill could only hear one thing.


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    Gill tried to push the voices out of his head, but his head began pulsing with dizzying pain. He felt his body move around him, and begin walking towards the group.


    ¡®Wait, don¡¯t kill them!¡¯ Gill thought to himself with as much power as he could muster, but his voice was lost as an ocean in the sea of murderous intent. Gill was no longer moving on his own, and his body was no longer his. With a chilling realisation, Arianna¡¯s face of anguish flashed in his mind as the truth of what was happening hit him like a battering ram.


    Gill couldn¡¯t stop his body from killing them.


    It was going to kill them all.

 Chapter 4: Flexing The Talons (Prologue 4)

    Gill¡¯s body slammed his foot in front of him, shuddering the whole docks, shaking the balance of everyone present. He turned the slam into a brace, launching himself toward the group. Four of the guards rushed forward to meet him, muskets in hand, bayonets spiking forward like an oversized pincushion. He brought the anchor out and threw the chain around the shocked mens¡¯ guns pulling them from their grip.


    ¡®In my way.¡¯


    ¡®Move.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®Please don¡¯t.¡¯


    He snatched a musket out the air and buried it in the closest guard¡¯s chest, pulling the trigger immediately after, spraying red clouds all around. The anchor vanished into the ether, the other suspended muskets tumbling slowly in the air as Aola, Athra and the rest of the guards sluggishly drew their weapons.


    Gill was screaming at himself to let them all go, to never take another life again, but his body wasn¡¯t listening. It continued to move aggressively and with nothing but murder in mind. If Gill could shed tears at what was happening, he would, but even that had been taken out of his power.


    He could do nothing but watch as he killed again.


    His body grabbed two of the suspended guns, and speared the nearest guards in their necks, following up by slamming the fourth into the floor with his fist. He reached out his free hand and deftly caught the fourth musket from the air, pointing it at the now panicked regiment. He squeezed the trigger, just as he had learnt from his father all those years ago.


    The musket ball rocketed forward, before meeting Aola¡¯s sabre and falling to the deck in 2 perfect halves. His body grunted in irritation, swinging the musket down and piercing the groaning guard¡¯s heart. Aola stared in a mixture of horror and awe of the massacre, his sabre and dagger pointed forward in a defensive stance, as he stood in front of his terrified protectors.


    Athra looked as if he was about to be sick, but stood as defiantly as he could with shimmers of magic pulsing from his hands. With a small glance back, Aola confirmed that his son was ready as he began stalking forward cautiously, keeping his eyes fixed on Gill¡¯s body, who was tired of waiting at this point.


    He walked slowly and aggressively over to the two guards which he had speared through the chest, and tugged the muskets free from their lifeless corpses. He dropped one to the ground and took aim at Aola with the other. Aola did not stop his cautious stalking, seeing the musket as no threat whatsoever, which enraged Gill¡¯s body further, who pulled the trigger, aiming for his head. Aola moved like the seasoned warrior he was, and deflected the shot into the reddening ocean.


    ¡®Not him.¡¯


    ¡®Too fast.¡¯


    ¡®Too strong.¡¯


    ¡®His son.¡¯


    ¡®Kill him.¡¯


    ¡®Stop it.¡¯


    He launched the musket like a spear at Aola, who deflected it with the same ease. This gave Gill¡¯s body time to duck down and grab the final loaded musket and aim it squarely at Athra¡¯s chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Aola¡¯s face, a mask of sheer terror for losing his son.


    ¡®Don¡¯t do it, please.¡¯


    He squeezed the trigger and sent the round shot sailing through the air, just out of Aola¡¯s reach, as he was about to scream for his son. The shot moved further and further¡­then stopped. Fury bubbled inside the screaming mass of voices.


    ¡®Why?! Why didn¡¯t he die?!¡¯


    ¡®A trick?¡¯


    ¡®A miss?¡¯


    ¡®Magic?¡¯


    ¡®Just let them go.¡¯


    The shot fell to the scarlet deck, inches shy of Athra¡¯s outstretched hand as the coils of magic drew back to his palm. For the first time, his expression was focussed and hard.


    ¡°Don''t underestimate me, Father. I can take it.¡± Athra¡¯s eyes narrowed as he thrust his hand forward, causing the world to ripple before him in a line. Gill¡¯s body ducked to the side, as it streaked past him and hit Aola¡¯s sabre, lighting it ablaze with red fire that seeped into the steel.


    Only then did Gill realise that this was their plan, and he did everything he could to stop his body from moving and make it a fatal blow. He grabbed his anchor out of the ether and caught the flaming sabre in a parry. Gill¡¯s body was about to strike back and end this monster of a man, but as he began to move, he noticed a sharp pain in his neck.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Confused, He glanced down and noticed the dagger in his throat, securely gripped in Aola¡¯s left hand.


    At that second, Gill thanked the old man for putting a stop to the murderous rampage that was happening. If his body dying was the only way to save people, then he accepted that.


    His body stumbled back, his anchor vanishing and his chest becoming warm with the spreading blood. He grabbed at his throat, trying to stop the bleeding, and failing painfully. Aola swished his sabre from side to side, putting the flames out as he walked back to his son, giving pointers to the future conflicts. The fury that amassed in the ever growing wail of voices flared further, he felt his hands and chest go cold once more, and the stabbing pain in his throat subsided. He felt his throat, there was nothing.


    ¡®Oh no.¡¯


    He caught Athra¡¯s eye as he began to storm forward, his fury stronger than ever. A panicked look overcame Athra as he frantically called to his father, who tilted his head and turned around, confused. That confusion was met with an anchor to the chest, flinging him into the ocean. He stared Athra down, who¡¯s hands shook with fear. With a scream of terror, he turned and ran to his guards, with what little speed he could muster.


    Gill¡¯s body broke into a sprint behind him, swinging his anchor in an arc aiming for the coward¡¯s head. It would¡¯ve connected if his body wasn¡¯t peppered with thunderous musket balls from the line of horrified guards. His body stumbled back, holding back his grunts of agony as he tensed his whole body as the shots slowly tore their way out of him. He saw a soaked and bloody Aola crawling back onto the deck, his dagger gone and his sabre clattering at his hip.


    Gill¡¯s vision refocused as whips of fire coiled up from Athra¡¯s shaking hands and thrashed for his chest.


    ¡®Easy.¡¯


    ¡®Take him.¡¯


    ¡®Make his father see it.¡¯


    ¡®What they deserve.¡¯


    ¡®I''m begging you.¡¯


    Gill¡¯s hands flared with green light, wrapping the chain around his fists with a solid line between them. He caught the whips and grabbed them to his chest, ignoring the torturous pain. A crazed, evil smile spread over what was once Gill¡¯s face as he yanked the whips back, sending Athra sailing through the sky, screaming all the while and into his body¡¯s grasp. The whips disappeared, as did the anchor, and Gill clamped one arm around the boy¡¯s pudgy neck, and the other snatching his wrist and slamming it in between his shoulder-blades.


    Athra squealed like a stuck pig, squirming to be free from this pain. The guards frantically ran forward, but stopped when they realised that they could do nothing. Aola raised his head, gasping and pained. His eyes widened in horror as he realised what was happening. His body squeezed the boy¡¯s wrist, feeling the bones crunch. Athra howled in high pitched agony, as Aola yelled his son¡¯s name and began limping forward as fast as he could manage.


    Gill was forced to watch as his gaze pierced the old man and was filled with the rage and vengeance of the voices.


    ¡°Eye for an eye, old man.¡± Gill felt the words leave his mouth and cried when he realised what that meant. The world went silent behind Athra¡¯s screams, as the faint sounds of shouts and cries from all around him as he moved his hand from Athra¡¯s wrist to the back of his head, and setting his right hand clamped over Athra¡¯s mouth.


    Gill¡¯s arms moved like bullets, nearly pulling the boy¡¯s head clean off. The sound of breaking bone and ending life shot across the landscape to the guards, the gathering spectators and finally to the father of the child that was murdered an instant before.


    Athra¡¯s corpse crumpled to the floor, dropping with a dead thud.


    ¡®What have you done?¡¯


    Gill couldn¡¯t even break his gaze with Aola, not even as he stepped over the newly-made cadaver and began stalking towards the silent, heartbroken man. At that moment, Gill confirmed a horrifying truth.


    He was a monster.


    Aola let out a silent cry, tears falling from his eyes. He drew his sword from his sodden belt, his face a mask of grief and cold rage. He charged forward, impulsive and reckless, looking for nothing but blood.


    ¡®He¡¯s sloppy.¡¯


    ¡®Weak.¡¯


    ¡®Simple.¡¯


    ¡®You murdered someone¡¯s son.¡¯


    His body grabbed his anchor out of the ether, deflected the flailing sabre, and sent his free hand out, grabbing the old man¡¯s face, and squeezing. The blade fell to the floor with a hollow clatter as Aola¡¯s hands flew to his head, scratching and clawing at the vice grip that was pressing him harder and harder. He pulled the man closer, crushing harder. The man frantically screamed as his skull began buckling.


    ¡°I told you to stop.¡± Those words stabbed Gill¡¯s heart as he was forced to stare at this nightmare.


    Aola¡¯s head collapsed in on itself, spraying sanguine gore in all directions, landing and tangling in Gill¡¯s hair, staining his face. He tugged his hand free from what was once the man¡¯s head, shaking the excess off.


    His body turned to the guards and spectators, who had run with all they could.


    ¡®Of course they¡¯d want to be as far away as possible. You''re evil.¡¯


    His body bent down, unclasping the golden Swallow bracelet from the old man¡¯s wrist and snapped it shut around his own.


    At that moment, he felt himself sinks back into his body. He felt heavy, cold, wrong. He stared at the shimmering hallmark of skill, lost in its glimmer as tears began to strike it with tiny metallic taps.


    He sobbed into his hands as he aimlessly walked.


    ¡°I told you to stop.¡± The discordant choir of voices within Gill began to soar in their elation over the new mass murder. He could no longer hear what they were trying to say, their voices a mass of wails and shouts, as if celebrating the slaughter. Gill clutched his head and tore at it, longing for the voices to stop and for some peace and quiet after all that terrible vengeance. The crow that was silently watching the whole time silently flew away towards the forest.


    Gill remembered the neighbourhood, it was maybe a 2 hour walk home. He decided that he had nothing better to do than find somewhere comfortable to fall asleep in and never wake up. Gill raised his head, tears staining his face as he began the long trek home.


    ¡°What the hell am I?¡±

 Chapter 5: Laying the Wreckage to Rest (Prologue 5)

    Gill¡¯s feet moved slowly, aimlessly beneath him as he continued his agonising and deafening trek home. He stopped earlier to wash the worst of the blood off himself, to little effect, as it seemed to have seeped into his skin, a permanent stain on his soul. This painful realisation had brought his tears once again. He saw no other people around, but heard shuffling and muffled whispers in the houses he passed. No doubt they had heard about what happened already, tales and rumours travelled like wild-fire after all.


    But what was the worst of everything was the voices. A burning hell of screams, laughter, taunts, plots and evil notions.


    ¡®They know.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®They can see you.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®You could rule them.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®Take their money.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®You are a god.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    ¡®Take everything.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them.¡¯


    They thudded in his head like a thunderstorm, slammed his mind like a smith, fired it like clay, tore through it like an axe through a tapestry. Gill dug his fingers into his head, begging for relief. He had tried hitting his head, dunking it in water and even trying to tear hair from his scalp, but the damage healed faster than he could soak up the relief of the momentary quietness.


    At this point Gill was begging for a longer silence.


    Only at this moment, did he look up, and see his house. It was barely recognisable.


    The small cobblestone steps leading up to the front door, where Gill had spent hours upon hours picking at the mortar with sticks in his childhood years, were broken, shattered and dug up. His pale blue front door, there since before he was born was shattered and smashed off its hinges.


    His living room, once a space for relax and comfort, was turned over completely. Patches of smashed glass, splintered furniture and stamped-in photos. His mother¡¯s old jewellery box was cracked and empty, his father¡¯s workbench was swept onto the floor, half finished curiosities and devices crushed underfoot. Everything they had that was worth anything was gone or destroyed.


    Gill mindlessly stumbled through the carnage, tears tapping a regular rhythm against the wooden floor and the smashed remains of his life. He didn¡¯t even bother trying to stop the voices anymore, there was no more reason to. There was nothing left of him to save. He¡¯d destroyed it all.


    ¡®They did this.¡¯


    ¡®Shouldn¡¯t have let them run.¡¯


    ¡®Guilty.¡¯


    ¡®Idiot.¡¯


    ¡®Kill everyone.¡¯


    ¡®Find the rest of us.¡¯


    ¡®Find them.¡¯


    ¡®Kill everyone.¡¯


    Gill slammed his fist into the floorboards, exploding through them. He couldn¡¯t take it anymore. He tore out board after board, roaring with anger as he shredded the underside of his childhood away.


    At last he found what he wasn¡¯t meant to know about. His father¡¯s strongbox.


    He bent the reinforced metal at a sickening angle, shattering the double-locks. Gill sifted through old family photos, stacks of military money, medals, notes and letters until he found what he was looking for. He pulled the small scroll of paper out and opened it, finally revealing that lifelong mystery. It was a map of beneath the workshop, to where his father¡¯s past was laid to rest.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Gill tried to stand up, but the voices doubled in intensity, sending him to his knees in deafening agony. His senses went dark, his head felt like it was being used as an anvil, pounding indescribable pain every second as the world around him became a blur. He could no longer distinguish what was real and what was in his head, as everything faded into a thudding beat of screams and cries for murder. Gill clawed all around him, searching for something to centre himself with, to find anything that could free him from this crushing agony.


    His hand slammed down onto the shards of broken glass that once held the family photo in place, where Gill was only a baby. His eyes were bright and full of optimism, red cheeks and a beaming face. His father and his weathered, sad eyes behind his wide brimmed glasses. His chiselled arms bulging beneath his leather coat and his impossibly broad shoulders being home to a small blue bird, his little Sapphire. Gill could still remember his Father¡¯s sobs when that small bird died, a broken man losing their closest friend.


    Then there was his mother. Short, small and full of vitality and crazy energy. The little streak of blue in her pumpkin-orange hair curled just over her left eye. Her eyes were a marvel. Mismatched brown and grey, perfectly matching her warm, energetic warmth and love and focussed, steely working. The mixture that made for the best seamstress, the best mother. The best father with his powerful and clever games and lessons. To Gill, it only seemed natural tat they deserved the perfect son.


    Gill¡¯s eyes snapped open, as he dragged himself forward through the broken memories. His legs didn¡¯t move from the searing pain in his head and his arms felt like lead weights.


    ¡°A good son¡­can fight.¡± Gill growled through his teeth as he dragged himself another few feet.


    ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡®What are you doing?¡¯


    ¡®Kill?¡¯


    ¡®Obey.¡¯


    ¡®Kill.¡¯


    ¡°A good son fights for¡­his family.¡± Gill groaned as he wrapped his hand around the doorway to the workshop.


    ¡®Fight?¡¯


    ¡®Good.¡¯


    ¡®Fighting is good.¡¯


    ¡®Family is dead.¡¯


    ¡®New family kill with you.¡¯


    ¡°A good son will¡­do the right thing.¡± Gill almost panted as he heaved himself to the centre of the workshop. His eyes darted around the room, looking for the right place.


    ¡®Right?¡¯


    ¡®You have the right to rule.¡¯


    ¡®And kill.¡¯


    ¡®And take.¡¯


    ¡®Only rights you need.¡¯


    Gill raised his arm, fighting through the agony.


    ¡°A good son¡­protects what he loves.¡± Gill breathed as he slammed his arm to the ground, sending a web of cracks throughout the floor.


    ¡®Power.¡¯


    ¡®See your power.¡¯


    ¡®Use it.¡¯


    ¡®Fight with it.¡¯


    Gill dug his hand under the stones of the floor, latching around a handle.


    ¡°A good son¡­avenges.¡± Gill growled as he tugged a huge box free of the deep set floor.


    ¡®Good.¡¯


    ¡®Vengeance.¡¯


    ¡®They wronged you.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them all.¡¯


    Gill threw open the lid and almost gasped at what lay before him.


    Weapons, uniform, armour, several guns and whole bags of ammunition. Gill pushed aside his questions as he grabbed the closest thing that would suit his purposes. A simple flintlock pistol, preloaded and ready.


    ¡®Perfect.¡¯


    ¡®Use these.¡¯


    ¡®Kill them all.¡¯


    Gill pulled the gun to himself, forcing his hands to move through the agony in his head, pulling the hammer back, clicking it into place. Gill took a breath.


    ¡°A good son stops evil.¡± Gill whispered to himself, as he put the gun to his head.


    ¡®Wait.¡¯


    ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡®What are you doing?¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t kill.¡¯


    ¡®Wrong person.¡¯


    Gill¡¯s hand trembled with pain and terror but his grip tightened.


    ¡°You killed Arianna. Vexa. Mike. Elizabeth. Eren. Everyone. Now you can go to hell.¡± Gill grabbed his gun with both hands to steady his massive shaking and the tears falling from his eyes. He poised himself on the trigger as the voices shouted louder and louder and louder until he could hear nothing but pleadings for mercy and life. Gill could do nothing but cry as he pressed on the trigger.


    ¡°I''m sorry everyone.¡±


    The shot rang out through the broken house, the street, the town and echoed back to the sea, where the waves seemed to weep the loss. The crows all over the town stopped and cawed to the sky.

 Chapter 6: Dawn Through a Breaking Shell

    A dull whine. A faraway sense of urgency. An emergency behind a mile thick wall of mist. There was something amongst the nothingness, an echo of a promise, a regret, an apology. A weak desperation from the tallest corner of a newly abandoned chapel, fallen to ruin. The choir that once held themselves there but a faded memory.


    There was light. Somewhere, not here nor there. But light nonetheless. It reflected nothing and cast no shadow in every direction. It grew into the nonexistent view and overpowered everything.


    The void shifted into a tunnel and cast the abyss behind, launching the light closer and ever further away¡­


    Nothing¡­


    Then there was everything.


    A gasp. Light stabbing his eyes. Sweet, dusty air filling his lungs. Then there was the cold. The chills sent shivers everywhere. The hard, rubble of the floor half formed a surface as he contorted in sheer rejection at reality. His head was a cloud, solidifying with every breath.


    Then it calmed. The world made more sense. Dust in the air. Stones on the ground. His body was cold, to the touch and to the world surroundings. A red stained pistol lay on the ground beside him.


    He looked around. Everything was broken. There was a dull ringing in the back of his mind. There was supposed to be something he remembered, as if this was familiar but nothing rose to the surface. The absence of memory was chilling, more so than his shivering. Then there was the man that stood over him.


    Golden hair and shifting grey-black eyes over an exhausted expression and sweat covered linen clothes, which were also stamped with gold. As their eyes met, relief and rage rose into his face like boiling seas. He rose to his full height, shifting golds seeped into the air from his body, as if the very air was grateful and terrified of his presence. His irises lost all trace of silver, turning his eyes pure black, so that his pupils were almost indistinguishable.


    ¡°Are you happy with yourself, you utter fool?!¡± The man spoke with a voice that can only be described as heavenly, but steeped in fury. The man turned his back and walked to the pistol and scrunched up his face in disgust.


    ¡°Do you know how fortunate you are? If it was anyone but myself, you¡¯d still be a corpse on this damned floor. Even then I wasn¡¯t sure I could bring you back, in fact, I''m not entirely sure that I was the only reason you survived. A wound of that caliber has never been healed before, and some of what was destroyed wasn¡¯t saved.¡± His expression changed from anger and chastising to resigned and slightly sorrowful. ¡°You will not be the same person that you once were. That much is certain.¡± He turned his head and started inspecting the boy¡¯s eyes, the silver returned to his own.


    A second passed before the boy spoke.


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡±. He asked matter of factly, his voice slightly hoarse.


    The golden-haired man was taken aback slightly.


    ¡°You dare¡­¡± He sighed and sat on a nearby section of broken workbench. ¡°Well, you''re certainly ruder than before.¡±


    The boy sat up, loudly cracking his neck and massaging the dust off of his head. He felt rough, uneven patterns on both sides of his head, the left side was more damaged. An echo of a memory surfaced. A gun shot.


    ¡°Did I shoot myself?¡± He asked curiously, glancing at the flintlock on the ground.


    ¡°You don¡¯t remember anything? Anything at all?¡± The man leaned forward, fascinated. His eyes shone a light and sprightly silver.


    ¡°I¡­¡±. His voice trailed off as he tried to recall. He saw fragments of scenes that flashed by at incredible speeds.


    Two happy faces looking down at him, a man and a woman. The man was large and muscled with a jovial face and brown hair, while the woman was almost in tears with happiness, matching the little blue streak in her hair and the beauty in her features perfectly. Sewing clothes and tapestries with one of them, aiming weapons and sparring with a pair of pretend wooden cutlasses with the other.


    A young, silver haired girl, full of energy and skill smiling confidently at him. Mead fuelled parties at the dead of midnight with large men laughing and singing out of key. The man sobbing beside a small dead bird as the woman held him close. The woman pale and thin, her hair without volume and depth, her beautiful features hollow with tiredness as she slaved away at a tapestry of unmatched quality and the man¡¯s unheard pleadings for her to stop and rest.


    The broken anguish on his face as he sat alone in a cold, dark house. The hate filled eyes of that silver haired girl as she threw herself into the water. The face of the old warrior when he saw his son die. The gun shot.


    The boy sat in silence, trying to make sense of these flashes. He held his hand in front of him, studying the unfamiliar features in detail.


    ¡°Only pieces. This place was my home, yeah? And my name¡­¡± He pressed his hand to his forehead in thought. The man focussed his eyes, intrigued by this curiosity.


    ¡°Gill, I think.¡± He closed his hand and looked to the open box on the shattered floor. ¡°Don''t suppose you know why there''s a small armoury in here, do you?¡± He asked absently, inspecting the gear.


    ¡°My my, you have changed. You used to be so polite but now your ability to care about anything seems to have taken a hit, your emotions as well.¡± The man muttered in thought. ¡°Your father left that there after he left the military, I assume. You found it and used a pistol from it because of the voices.¡±


    ¡°Voices? Oh. Yeah. Those.¡± Gill muttered to himself as he opened the box to its full size.


    It contained everything a soldier on the run could ever want. A set of tough brown leather wrist and shin guards as well as a padded, red cloth shirt underneath, woven as to catch small and fast blades. The weight of it suggested that there was strips of chain mail woven into it as well. An army uniform lay underneath, supplying the equivalent padding for the legs and a cold weather red jacket with swallows sewn on. A sewing box lay underneath with a whole range of coloured thread with it. It would be useful if he adjusted it for his size.


    Then there was the weaponry. There was the now ruined flintlock pistol on the floor, but that was no use to anyone. There was a pristine and sharpened broadsword with a belt attached, basket hilted and all. A set of small daggers on a strap that fit perfectly to the sword belt.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    The dagger, almost as long as Gill¡¯s forearm, that was fitted perfectly to Gill¡¯s back for fast drawing, with a mirrored silver blade with black leather binding the grip.


    Then there was the centrepiece of the whole box. His father¡¯s passion and work combined. A large pistol with two barrels and two hammers side by side. The wood was coloured black, the metal segments were a polished steely silver with a large bird carved into the side. The bird was larger, less graceful and far more powerful than the swallows that covered the rest of the gear. The barrels detached just behind the trigger, folding down to expose the chambers.


    The special shots that lay in a small knapsack under it were regular musket balls, with half of it wrapped in cloth and packed with powder. Gill remembered his father¡¯s words on the design: just make a tear the cloth, shove them in and shoot.


    He¡¯d named her Raven.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to take out the military insignias, that way people won¡¯t mistake me for a soldier. That¡¯d be a pain.¡± Gill thought out loud as he peeled his filth and blood covered clothes off. ¡°A wash wouldn''t hurt either.¡±


    The man sat back, keeping his eye fixed on Gill. The gold in his hair flickered as the sliver played on the black of his eyes as he examined the web of fresh, pink scars that were hidden by Gill¡¯s mess of black hair.


    ¡°Boy.¡± His voice was so smooth and commanding that it was impossible to ignore it, so Gill looked up in surprise. ¡°Do you know my name?¡±


    Gill shrugged as he inspected the dried blood on his skin, and walked over to the pile of rubble where the barrel of water that was used for the makeshift forge used to be. He noticed on the floor beside it was a bent and broken pair of once pristine cutlasses that he and his father had forged together for if he ever needed to fight seriously. The memories flashed through his mind and tugged at the empty void inside him in a curious way. No matter their sentimental value though, they''re no use to anyone. He barely turned his head to answer the man.


    ¡°You''re a king, that much is obvious with all the gold. And the attitude, you''re way too vain to be anyone else.¡± Gill swept the dust and splinters off the broken barrel, scowling at the cracks in the barrel. He snapped off some of the wood that made the top of the barrel, and chuckled at the few inches of water at the bottom.


    ¡°You are correct, though it¡¯s been a while since I''ve ruled. In fact, you could say I was the first.¡± The man said, his voice musing over his life.


    Gill stopped and turned to look at him, his face a mask of disbelief.


    ¡°Gilgamesh? The Recluse King Gilgamesh? The same king that killed half this country in his wars?¡± Gill dropped the cloth he had found, grabbing his anchor out and pointing it to the man¡¯s face.


    ¡°Drop that stupid thing, boy. I¡¯m not the monster that the tales tell of.¡± He walked closer, inches away from the anchor. ¡°Besides.¡± He raised his hand and phased through Gill¡¯s outstretched arm.


    ¡°I¡¯m still dead. And you''re the only person who can see and hear me, because you are me. Or at least have my soul.¡±


    The anchor disappeared as Gill stood there, frozen, processing what Gilgamesh said.


    ¡°I¡¯m you?¡± The words were weak and quiet as flashes of his life came back again.


    Gilgamesh chuckled and shook his head.


    ¡°Don''t be foolish. You''re your own person, but as you can tell, I''m here as well. And if you''ll listen and trust me, you''ll find that I''m your best chance of staying alive.¡± Gilgamesh spoke in absolute authority, with enough conviction and experience that it was as if he was speaking the truth of the future.


    Gill stood dumbfounded for a count of five, before awkwardly nodding his head and picking the cloth back up to clean himself with.


    The next few minutes passed in silence, with Gill cleaning the bloodstains from his skin as best he could before resizing the uniform to himself with the sewing kit and the thread from his old clothes, as the thick, strong sailing thread was much more stronger than the thread in the box. That and Gilgamesh called him unwise and moronic for not saving as many supplies as he could.


    Gill complied out of annoyance over Gilgamesh¡¯s perfect voice. Gill lost track of time as he worked on adjusting his fathers massive proportions to more suit his smaller size, as well as picking out the military insignias wherever they were found. By the time he had it fitted for him, the amber of sunset was beginning to shine in.


    ¡°Tell me, boy. Do you feel anything?¡± Gilgamesh asked, mild curiosity in his voice.


    Gill turned to look at him, a slight shrug in his shoulders.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say that I do. But¡­I remember.¡±


    Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow, the silver in his eyes seemed to shine as he awaited further explaining. Gill sighed. Seemed a king always expects everything.


    ¡°I remember what it felt like to feel. But now I don¡¯t feel anything.¡± Gill paused his movements a moment before beginning to get dressed.


    Gilgamesh tapped his chin in thought for several seconds.


    ¡°And pain? Do you feel pain?¡± He asked without even turning to look at Gill.


    Gill pulled the armoured shirt down his body, making sure that it wasn¡¯t too loose. He looked towards Gilgamesh out the corner of his eye, catching his attention, causing him to look in curious concern. Gill could only shake his head as his answer. The black in Gilgamesh¡¯s took over once more, but with a sorrowful expression in place of his previous rage.


    Gilgamesh sighed, stood up and walked over to the box as Gill was strapping the leather greaves to his legs, and tugging the sword to make sure it was secure.


    ¡°You''re gearing for quite the journey. Where are you going, cabin boy?¡± Gilgamesh mused, looking to the sunset.


    Gill strapped the knapsack around his hip before taking two shots from it, slightly tearing the cloth with his thumb and loading Raven¡¯s two barrels before slotting it into its holster comfortably at his hip.


    ¡°The capital.¡± Gill yawned, looking to the sunset.


    ¡°May I ask why?¡± Gilgamesh chuckled, raising his eyebrow in confusion.


    ¡°Those visions I had, while I was dying of thirst. I saw you and your drinking friends, and something about a women in a forest. That one¡¯s still fuzzy. But the last one, with that redhead in church, those buildings are from the capital, no question about it.¡± Gill stood up and walked through the devastated house.


    ¡°And you''re going there because¡­?¡± Gilgamesh asked with a large dose of sarcasm laced in.


    Gill turned to face him, his eyes hollow and empty.


    ¡°Because I have nothing anymore. Might as well find some answers.¡±


    Gilgamesh grinned, but moved himself to stand in the doorway, blocking the exit.


    ¡°Good plan. Probably what I would¡¯ve done before I was a king. There is one problem though.¡± Gilgamesh jabbed his thumb outside. ¡°To everyone, you''re a murderer. And you are, there''s no doubt about that. But it would be a problem if everyone recognised you.¡±


    Gill sighed. There was always something that he had to do before he could go forward.


    ¡°What should I do then, find a new name?¡± Gill looked to the ground, the reality of being a killer dawning on him.


    ¡°Of course. A new man after all.¡± Gilgamesh mused, almost looking like he was about to spout poetry.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a man anymore.¡± Gill snapped back. Gilgamesh was taken aback, his eyes turning black. Gill wouldn¡¯t give him the satisfaction of getting the last word. ¡°I lost a lot of myself when I took that bullet. I''m less than I was before. You wouldn''t call a pile of feathers a bird, would you?!¡± Gill only just realised he was shouting. He fell to his knees, as if this new emotional void inside him was draining his will.


    Gilgamesh stood in silence, his face unreadable and stoic. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flicker. There was something outside. A bird. Large, black and subtly knowledgeable. It hopped along the grass, looking down into the ground, snapping up the occasional worm. It stopped suddenly and turned to look at Gill. It''s beady black eyes never moved but bored into ins soul.


    That day was when Gill had an idea. One that would define him from that moment until his dying day.


    He looked down to his hip and looked into the eyes of the bird on his gun, then the bird outside as it stared back into him.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a name.¡± Gill whispered in half surprise and wonder, half determined acceptance. Gilgamesh looked at him, waiting for his answer. ¡°It¡¯s true. I''m less than the man I was before, so I¡¯ll take what I am and stick with it.¡±


    Gill stood up, adjusted his various weapons and strode passed Gilgamesh, who flashed the slightest hint of a smile before following behind.


    ¡°From now on, my name is Corvus.¡±

 Chapter 7: Rocky Migration

    From that moment on, the days blurred together. The venomous stares as he left his village were but a distant memory, as was the foraging and hunting and irritation at having no map. Only the standout moments in those few weeks stuck. The pack of deer that fled from sight in an instant, the first bite of wild-cooked venison, the terrified faces of the bandits as they saw just how foolish they were in challenging him.


    According to Corvus, it was a rather uneventful time. Gilgamesh was inclined to agree, with a little surprise considering how passive and talkative Gill had been.


    Corvus didn¡¯t talk much. There was nothing to talk about, no feelings, not pains, no complaints.


    Only the occasional question when a flash of memory resurfaced, possibly not for days on end. There was one thing that kept Corvus¡¯ mind going, which Gilgamesh was always stubbornly evasive about, which was the reason behind all the magic, the visions, the murder and the sudden reappearance of The Recluse King Gilgamesh himself.


    Corvus decided to ask again anyway, while tearing bark off a nearby tree in search of dry tinder.


    ¡°What exactly will I find when I get to the people I saw?¡± Corvus called into the empty woods, the noise echoing through the dark undergrowth, causing small rustlings in the gaps between the sunbeams.


    ¡°I hate repeating myself.¡± Gilgamesh complained, suddenly lounging on a moss covered rock. ¡°It¡¯s not my place to tell you things that will change your path.¡±


    Corvus dug his fingers into the wood of the tree, causing it to crack and snap.


    ¡°Then tell me what I¡¯ll find.¡± Corvus¡¯ voice was completely vacant of feeling. He was only asking because he didn¡¯t know.


    Gilgamesh only shook his head.


    Corvus lifted his hand, taking the massive oak with it, sending massive cracks and tears into the earth around him as the roots shredded the soil around him. The birds that were roosting there realised their mistake and flew away in sheer terror for their lives. The thundering crunches and groaning breaks sent shockwaves through the air, slamming echoes against the misty depths of green. The rays of the midday sun broke through the new openings in the canopy, sending splinters of light down in unnatural patterns. Corvus looked up in curiosity, playing with the light on his eyes.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s there.¡± Gilgamesh noted amusingly, basking in a large patch of sunlight.


    Corvus tore his hand from the tree, sending it hammering into the soil with an ear splitting collapse of roots, wood and leaves. His hands flew to his belt in a blur, snatching his broadsword from his belt and pointing it to his right, while his left pulled Raven free and pointed her in the opposite direction.


    The air stilled in pure, ceaseless silence. There was no rustling, no scuttling and no disturbance of breath. It was as if everything stopped, as if the tension had frozen the world solid. There was a flicker out of the corner of Corvus¡¯ eye and he turned like a bolt of lighting to point Raven towards it. A leaf. More than a few leaves. Hundreds and thousands of leaves falling like a quiet, peaceful cloud.


    ¡°They must¡¯ve fallen when I moved the tree.¡± Corvus noted, shrugging.


    ¡°Excuse me.¡± A woman¡¯s voice spoke with an air of caution from behind him.


    Corvus span himself on the ball of his foot, dropping to his knee and pointing his weapons in the direction of the sound. They met the guarded gaze of a women, her hands expertly handling a spear that was pointed at Corvus in the same fashion as his own sword. She held herself perfectly still, a predator waiting for her prey to make a wrong move. Corvus decided that, while her manner was that of a seasoned killer, it wouldn¡¯t hurt to see if she was just acting in self defence, after all, he was the one that pointed the gun in the first place.


    Corvus lowered his weapons and rose to his his feet, brushing the soil and leaves from his knees. The woman looked surprised by how easily he lowered his weapons and kept her spear trained on his neck just in case. Corvus sheathed his broadsword and holstered Raven, putting her hammers back down for safety, silently meeting the woman¡¯s stare throughout the ever-mounting tension.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Corvus asked, tilting his head. ¡°You were going to ask something.¡±


    With that, the tension broke as she shook her head slightly in mild shock. She seemed to be weighing up if she thought Corvus was insane or not. She slowly lowered her spear, keeping her guard up all the while.


    ¡°I, uhh, yes. Did you hear that noise?¡± She stumbled over her words, trying to find sense in the confusion of her mind.


    Now that Corvus was standing, he could study her features more easily. She was around the same height as him, if a little taller, with quietly cautious green eyes. Her dark-red skin blended into her brown hair seamlessly, making her expression extremely difficult to read. The long spear that she held was incredibly well made and almost as tall as she was. It had beautifully etched markings in the sturdy but lightweight handle with a shimmering, almost shining blade at the end, with similar such markings.


    That spear was far from the only weapon she carried though. Her belt was decorated with small knives and daggers that were bound in black leather to match them to her black and dark green clothing and light armour pieces. There were two short-spears on her back, clearly meant to be concealed but they were visible now, as if they were ready to be grabbed at a moments notice. She wore nothing on her arms, clearly showing the dark, twisting tattoos that seemed to warp and distort on the surface of her skin. They were different, and shifted into a whole spectrum of shapes and patterns.


    Corvus blinked. She seemed familiar, as if he¡¯d walked passed her before, or seen her on a street somewhere. He couldn¡¯t place her but he knew that she was someone that he¡¯d seen before.


    Corvus noted the guarded expression that she held and decided he should break the silence by answering her question.


    ¡°Yes. It was a tree.¡± Corvus stated, unmoved.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, still unsure if Corvus was insane or not.


    ¡°I¡­see. If a tree fell though, where is it? The sound came from around here.¡±


    Corvus pointed to the tree that he lifted earlier, then to the ground that had been torn up around it.


    She raised an eyebrow at him.


    ¡°You¡¯re saying that this tree fell and then raised itself again?¡± Her voice was thick with irritated disbelief.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Corvus blinked, curious as to why she was still confused about it.


    Her expression signalled that she was getting a headache.


    ¡°Oh¡­ok then. Safe travels.¡± She sighed, turning and walking away.


    Corvus was about to do the same, but a flash of memory stopped him in his tracks. That physique, that spear, that hair, he''d seen it before. It was fuzzy but it was definitely there.


    ¡°Do I know you?¡± Corvus spoke without thinking, but decided there was nothing wrong with asking.


    She turned, surprised and cautious once more. She stealthily moved her right hand to have a better line to her knives. The movement was small, barely noticeable, but Corvus saw.


    ¡°Be careful, boy.¡± Gilgamesh called from his sunbathed patch of moss.


    ¡°No. you don¡¯t.¡± Her voice was hard and authoritative, though not to the level of Gilgamesh.


    Corvus scratched his head. The image was clearing up slightly.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Corvus looked to the ground, tapping the side of his head, trying to find the memories. ¡°There was¡­a blacksmith?¡± His memories began to splinter back into shape. ¡°A dark forest?¡± And suddenly he remembered everything clearly again. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Corvus snapped his fingers in recognition.


    ¡°You were crying.¡± Corvus looked back up, but instead of seeing her face as before, he saw a black skull, cloaked in black aura, flying towards his face.


    He moved his head to the side and it flew past, blowing a hole in a tree behind him. Corvus looked back around and saw her face. It was a mask of embarrassment, rage and murderous intent. The tattoo on her left arm was coiling violently, sending waves of black energy to her hand, forming another skull. Her expression shifted slightly into shock.


    ¡°How did you see that? Are you a spy? Why aren¡¯t you dead?¡± She spoke through her seething breaths, her eyes almost tearing up.


    Corvus brushed some dust off his shoulder.


    ¡°A dream. No. You missed.¡±


    Her face flushed red, as she snatched her spear up again.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t miss! Can¡¯t you feel that?¡± She was either crying or shouting or both, Corvus couldn¡¯t tell.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Corvus was confused for a moment. He couldn¡¯t feel anything particularly lethal happening. At least until he looked down. One of her knives was imbedded in his chest, just right of his heart. Exactly the right spot to disable him but not outright kill him. Corvus pulled the knife out and cleaned the blade on his clothes. He studied the markings on the blade.


    ¡°Nice knife.¡± Corvus complimented honestly. He bent over and carefully placed it on a nearby patch of leaves. No use in ruining such a lovely weapon. He tried to stand back up, but was launched back by one of her skulls, rocketing him into the same tree that the first one hit. He slammed into it with a sickening crunch or wood splinters. The tree began to fall to the left with thunderous snaps and cracks. Corvus reached out his hand and embedded it in the falling trunk, catching it before it was out of reach. He broke it from its base and lifted it onto his shoulder.


    The sounds of her gasps were quickly overshadowed by the flapping of hundreds of large wings. A cloud of black enveloped both of them, beating them and the surroundings with strong feathers and winds. Then everything settled and what happened became clear.


    Crows. Hundreds of crows. Perching on nearby branches, tree stumps, even the ground to watch this unfolding spectacle. One of them, behind the woman, cawed loudly. She turned slightly in cautious paranoia. It''s call was met by one that was beside Corvus. And another. And another. One by one they all began calling out. The woman was getting nervous, glancing around, expecting to be attacked from all sides. Corvus¡¯ gaze hadn¡¯t moved. He was staring at her with an intensity that old only be describes as terrifying.


    A lone black feather fluttered into view, tumbling down, weaving through the gaps in the sunbeams. The woman regained her composure, returning Corvus¡¯ gaze with her own bloodlust. The feather swept down on the tiny wisps of wind, hovering inches above the disturbed earth. The inches grew smaller and smaller, sliding further down. The combat of gaze was tense and steady, ready to explode at any moment.


    The feather fluttered to a stop.


    Corvus aimed and threw the tree like a spear towards her, sending a gust that caused half the crows to almost lose their balance. The trunk barrelled through the air, pushed back by the mass of leaves that caught the air, and crashed into where she once stood. In her place was a small residue of shadowy clouds.


    Something moved on the ground. Corvus¡¯ eyes locked onto a leaping shadow that darted between the beams of light at incredible speeds. Then it jumped. The shadow grew into its full size. It was the woman, the tattoo on her right arm was receding from the shadows, as if it was clinging to them. She aimed her spear for his neck and let her weight pull herself down towards him. She was too close to use Raven on, so he reached for his sword and tugged it free, lifting it to guard his top half.


    The steel clashed with a harsh and ear-biting scrape as she drove a killing blow downwards while Corvus levered her over his head. His strength won. He spun her over his shoulder and threw her to the ground. She landed in an expert roll, quickly shifting her spear in an arc towards his head.


    Corvus¡¯ reflexes led his sword into a guard, catching the blow just shy of his eye. He levered himself over her blade, striking his elbow towards her head. The tattoo on her right arm glowed violently, sending ribbons of inky blackness down, grasping and pulling the shadows beneath her. Corvus¡¯ elbow never connected, as she melted into the darkness just before the impact.


    Corvus stumbled slightly, before hastily searching the gaps between the beams of sun. He caught Gilgamesh snoring out of the corner of his eye, and sighed at how useless he was being. A crow cawed behind him, causing him to spin on his heel and point his broadsword towards the sound. It met the surprised face of the woman, just shy of her neck. They both stood motionless.


    She had never seen anyone catch her off guard before, so she was in momentary shock, but Corvus was taking that moment to think of how to tell Gilgamesh that he was being extremely unhelpful. A count of five passed in the silence, then she came to her senses and restarted the fight.


    She batted the sword aside and sent her spear spiking downwards. Corvus¡¯ arm switched to a higher guard, catching the steel in a scraping screech that cause the crows to caw in complaint. She backed off slightly, tossing her spear to her right hand, and threw it, aiming for Corvus¡¯ heart.


    He caught it and dropped it to the earth with a thud, readying his blade again as she charged in, now weaponless. At least until she suddenly had one of her short-spears in her right hand, swiping down for Corvus¡¯ eyes. He brought his guard back up, catching the lighter blow on his blade, but in that instant, he saw what she was doing next.


    A dagger, aimed at his neck, soared through his guard. He took it through the hand, pulling her arm down with it. A look of apprehensive caution flashed in her eyes.


    ¡°Sorry. Someone tried that already.¡± Corvus apologised.


    He pushed her back, causing her to almost trip and fall on the loose ground. Corvus held up his wounded hand, watching the hole stitch its flesh back together. Her eyes widened slightly at the spectacle as she re-sheathed her other weapons and snatched her spear back off the ground.


    Corvus returned his gaze to her, readying his guard once more. Then something about her changed. The murderous bloodlust that she once had was gone. Her anger and embarrassment were gone. Even her caution and guard was gone.


    The crows began a whole new choir of caws and terrified squawks as an aura of cold focus emanated from her. She took a step forward, the world seemed to move around her like a terrified swarm of insects, parting to avoid her. Her eyes showed nothing, her movements were efficient. At that moment, a thought crossed Corvus¡¯ mind.


    ¡®How much stronger is she?¡¯

 Chapter 8: Deadly Introductions

    A lot, it turns out.


    The moment Corvus took a step forward, her spear was flying towards vital spots from what seemed like three different directions at once. It was all Corvus could do try and not get pieces of himself cut off left and right. In that single exchange that lasted no longer than 4 seconds, Corvus was on the back foot for all of it and would be dead many times over if he didn¡¯t heal as much as he did.


    Another rain of strikes forced Corvus back, and he took the opportunity to put some distance between them, taking an extra five steps just to be safe. He could still see Gilgamesh lounging in his comfortable patch of sun.


    ¡°Oh that''s it, you useless pile of-¡°. Corvus growled quietly to himself.


    Gilgamesh¡¯s eyes immediately shot open and glared at Corvus with a piercing command.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare call me useless, boy!¡± Gilgamesh shouted from his improvised bed. At that moment, he noticed the new danger that had arisen. His expression changed from irritation to surprise then to indifference. ¡°Oh. Just a minute.¡± He stood up and began to stretch.


    ¡°Really? Now?¡± Corvus complained, turning his attention back to the advancing woman, who was raising her spear again, the focus on her face was cold and deadly.


    Then she vanished, before reappearing behind Corvus. She was unbelievably fast, especially considering the size of her spear. She lunged for his head, which Corvus lifted his blade to catch the blow. It never came, instead, piercing his stomach. He tried again to grip the spear and restrict its movement, but it was gone by the time his hand reached it. The handle collide with the back of his head, then the blade sliced back towards his chest. There was nothing Corvus could do to stop it as it tore open his clothes and carved into him.


    As Gilgamesh finished stretching, he looked over to the one sided duel and snapped his fingers, sighing.


    With that snap, the world became sluggish, the woman moved as if she were in the ocean. She became slow and predictable. Corvus stood up, tugging at his torn clothes.


    ¡°Took you long enough. Just look.¡± Corvus held up his broadsword, its edge worn and dented to the point of bluntness. ¡°That¡¯s on you.¡±


    Gilgamesh shrugged, then motioned to the woman, almost frozen mid-strike. Corvus sighed. He didn¡¯t want to kill one of the people in his visions but if he had no choice, then so be it.


    He moved her spear out of the way and connected his fist to her stomach. He drew Raven from her holster, brought back both hammers and sent both rounds into her chest, before putting her back in place. He lined up the point of his blunted blade with her neck, ready to end her life in one single strike.


    ¡°Time¡¯s up.¡± Gilgamesh said with a self congratulatory smile. He snapped his fingers again, speeding time back up.


    The woman was knocked back into a tree, blood spraying from her mouth from both impacts. She gasped and clutched her chest, coughing up more deep red liquid.


    Corvus sagged slightly. The feeling of killing someone that he was looking for was a curious one. A mix of loss and regret seemed to fill the void that was inside Corvus for a split second, before vanishing again. He turned to walk away, the hundreds of black, knowing eyes of the crows bored into him with a fiery judgement. Then there was a noise. Something between a low hum and a quill on new parchment.


    The crows tilted their heads towards the noise, coming from behind Corvus. He turned around to see, curiosity the forefront of his mind. The woman was drawing a symbol of black lines into the air with her finger. She was barely moving but drawing steadily, as if the symbol was the most important thing in the world. As blood seeped from her mouth, she had to slow down to steady her hand.


    Corvus¡¯ gaze was fixed with interest, studying the symbol in detail. What looked relatively simple was instead filled with complexities and precisions that were so subtle that even a trained eye would need time to recognise. Then she connected the two loose ends, and the symbol hummed with a deep, resonant tone as it began to move with her hand. She pressed the symbol against her stomach and it began to emit small streams of green smoke. She looked on the verge of screaming with the pain, tensing every muscle that wasn¡¯t torn.


    The blood that she had previously coughed up began to move backwards, flowing back into her mouth like a reverse waterfall. Two small bullets fell out of the holes in her chest, before the holes began to stitch themselves up. Her eyes began to tear up with the feeling. Eventually, she gasped for air and slumped on the ground, any injuries that she had received before were nothing but a memory, besides a light scar that was seared into her stomach where she had pressed the symbol.


    She began to stand up, slowly and difficultly, but definitely. She looked at Corvus with a face of shock and eyes of determination. Corvus on the other hand, began sincerely applauding.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Awesome trick.¡± Corvus complimented, curiosity and wonder playing beneath his stoicism. ¡°Can I learn that?¡±


    Instead of answering, she held out her hand, palm down and closed her eyes. Corvus and the crows both tilted their heads, eager to see more. Green light spilled from her hand, weaving together in bands of emeralds and pines, forming something gradually larger and more defined.


    The shape began to change into a large creature, maybe 7 feet long and four feet to hold itself. Though it was different shades of translucent, ethereal green, the stripes were prevalent on its large mass of thick fur. Corvus didn¡¯t pay attention to how long it took, but there was a point that he realised just what he was seeing.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a tiger?¡± Corvus asked, his eyes wide with awe. ¡°Nice.¡±


    That tiger then launched itself towards him, claws and teeth flashing underneath the beastial roar of fury that followed. The nearby crows understood what was happening, and decided to find branches that were as far away from the tiger as possible to continue watching the interesting events.


    Corvus responded to the leap by clenching his fist and connecting a blow with the side of the oncoming tiger¡¯s head. It flew to the side, deftly taking the hit and landing without a sound, though it scared more crows. It jumped again, this time leading with its claws. The angle was awkward so Corvus could only block half the blow with his sword, which bent severely, and took the rest on his shoulder, sending him tumbling into a tree.


    The tiger leapt once more, going for the kill shot. Corvus tensed himself, ready for the hit. The tiger¡¯s teeth met the dull and beaten blade of his broadsword while its claws pinned Corvus¡¯ sides. The sword snapped like a twig, leaving a broken handle in his right hand and the blade in the tiger¡¯s mouth. It spit the piece of metal to the side and ent for the kill again.


    Throwing the hilt to the side, Corvus brought his arm up to defend himself, causing the tiger to bite down like a vice. He would''ve lost his arm save for two things: he was apparently tougher than he thought, and the swallow bracelet on his wrist refused to buckle even slightly. Not expecting this resistance, the tiger focussed more on its bite than its claws, allowing Corvus to wrench his left arm free and slam a grip onto the back of its neck.


    The tiger caught a look in Corvus¡¯ eyes, and immediately it was caught off guard. There was such a terrifying look in his eyes that the tiger questioned how it was still alive.


    ¡°Bad.¡± Corvus growled, his voice thick with bloodlust.


    He threw the tiger to his left with all the strength he had, causing it to completely crash through a tree and collapsing it instantly. Corvus stood and slammed is fist into the tree that he crashed against, blowing a whole through it. This tree creaked and snapped with thunderous sounds before exploding on top of the ethereal animal. Corvus turned his eyes to the woman, who''s eyes were wide with awe and terror. Corvus tried to summon his anchor, but something was stopping him, he looked down in confusion, only then noticing that the tiger had taken his arm off when he threw it.


    ¡°Oh. Hold on.¡± Corvus said holding a finger up to the woman, as anyone would when holding someone up. He had lost everything from his elbow down and he inspected it more carefully. Several seconds later, his bone began to regrow, followed quickly by the blood, muscle, and everything else. During this time, some of the crows flew off their perches to inspect the fallen trees to see if there was any arm left. By the time a minute or so had passed, his arm was back to normal. He clenched it to see if it was still working before returning his gaze politely to the woman.


    Her look of awe and terror seemed to be stuck that way. Corvus looked at his torn sleeve in irritation, before looking to the wreckage.


    The crows had pulled the torn remains of his arm free of the tangled mess of tree and ethereal tiger, the swallow bracelet still firmly in place. A crow met Corvus¡¯ eyes and took flight with the arm, with extreme difficulty and protest from the other crows. Cleo¡¯s face was darting from him to the crows, confused and shocked at the spectacle.


    The birds were flying into each other to get a piece of the fresh meat, eventually dropping it into Corvus¡¯ outstretched hand. He unclasped the bracelet and snapped it shut around his new arm, before rewarding the crows by tossing their meal onto a small patch of moss, which they took to greedily.


    ¡°Right. Sorry about that. Let''s continue.¡± Corvus said, nodding.


    He summoned his anchor and chain, spinning them in a whizzing vortex that caused some of the other crows to re-adjust their balance. This summoning changed the look that was on her face from terror and awe to surprise and desperate joy. A curious mix to say the least.


    ¡°Wait! Wait! That anchor...¡±. Her voice trailed off as she stared, hardly believing her eyes.


    Corvus stopped spinning, catching it as it fell into his hand.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Corvus asked, slightly confused.


    ¡°How old are you?¡± She asked, disbelief in her voice.


    ¡°Uh¡­17 I think.¡± Corvus thought, his memory still not entirely clear on the subject.


    She gasped.


    ¡°But¡­that shouldn¡¯t be possible. They develop at 18. So how?¡± She began muttering to herself about possibilities and abnormalities that Corvus didn¡¯t even bother trying to understand.


    ¡°You¡¯re saying you know what this is?¡± Corvus asked, tilting his head in sequence with the crows again.


    She nodded, motioning to the fallen trees.


    ¡°Yes. It''s the same as my tiger.¡±


    ¡°In what way? He''s an animal. Anchors aren''t animals¡­I think.¡± Corvus had to re-evaluate his whole understanding of anchors in that moment.


    She shook her head, trying to get out the words, eventually deciding to sigh and just explain as simply as possible.


    ¡°It''s not that they¡¯re alive, it¡¯s¡­it¡¯s a lot to explain.¡± She shrugged apologetically.


    ¡°Well,¡± Corvus sat on a small patch of leaves and dug up earth, ¡°I''ve got the time.¡± Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Gilgamesh snoring again on his new favourite patch of moss.


    Her eyes looked at the broken hilt that used to be Corvus¡¯ broadsword.


    ¡°But¡­aren''t you sad about your sword?¡± She lowered her gaze shamefully.


    ¡°Nah. It¡¯s not like I have a magical anchor to replace it or anything. Except for the fact that I do.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    ¡°Oh¡­ok¡±. She was slightly taken aback at the swift change in moods and the out of place stoic sarcasm but walked over and sat down a few paces away just to be on the safe side.


    Corvus held out his hand.


    ¡°I''m Corvus. Pleasure to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She took his hand and shook it in greeting. ¡°I''m Cleo. Cleo Rogun.¡±

 Chapter 9: As the Clouds Roll Back

    After Cleo confirmed that Corvus wasn¡¯t, in fact, still trying to kill her, she decided to get his story straight just after the sun had set. To pass the time, she set up camp and hunted for a rabbit to roast whilst Corvus tore chunks out of trees for firewood. There was a slight awkwardness between them, as merely hours ago they had almost killed each other, but Cleo decided to test the waters of what could be asked.


    ¡°What are you doing so far north?¡± She glanced at Corvus out of the corner of her eye as she turned the spit over the fire.


    ¡°Used to live here. This is the furthest south I¡¯ve ever been.¡± Corvus replied, polishing Raven whilst his knives lay on the ground flashing lights from the fire back at him.


    ¡°So you''re a sailor?¡± She raised an eyebrow at him.


    ¡°Was. I don¡¯t think they would want me back after I killed everyone I ever loved.¡± He shrugged, pointing Raven forward, testing her aim.


    ¡°You¡­killed everyone you ever loved?¡± She spoke slowly, her hand drifting towards her dagger.


    ¡°To be fair, it was more like possession than me doing it, but its not like anyone believes voices in your head make you murder people.¡± Corvus sighed, loading two shots into Raven and holstering her.


    Cleo¡¯s eyes widened slightly. She opened her mouth but her voice caught. She lowered her gaze, taking a minute to compose herself while turning the rabbit.


    ¡°Voices, huh?¡± She spoke quietly, almost to herself. The barrier that she put around her emotions weakened slightly, exposing a sadness and loathing beneath.


    ¡°You ok?¡± Corvus asked. ¡°Your eyes are red. You really have a thing for crying don¡¯t you?¡±


    Her cheeks lit up with embarrassment and she furiously scrubbed her eyes. She shot a scowl in his direction.


    ¡°What about you? Don¡¯t they treat murderers like monsters this far north? Cindrea still has a strong presence here from what I know.¡± She shot back.


    ¡°Just because we¡¯re close to you fire-folk doesn¡¯t mean that we¡¯re as-¡±. Corvus began.


    Cleo''s spear was off the ground and pressed against Corvus¡¯ neck faster than he could blink.


    Several seconds of tense silence gripped the air, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Small drops of blood beginning to seep out of Corvus¡¯ neck.


    ¡°Say that again. I dare you.¡± Cleo was almost shuddering with rage.


    ¡°Right. Cindrians. Got it.¡± Corvus didn''t turn to look at her. She was well within her rights to be angry about a racial slur like that, but Corvus didn¡¯t want any more blood on his tattered clothes.


    ¡°Just because we¡¯re close to Cindrea doesn''t mean that we follow your laws.¡± Corvus corrected himself.


    Cleo lowered her spear, her eyes still slightly stormy, and went back to turning the rabbit before it burnt.


    ¡°It''s the same in the south, except colder and the frost-folk with their emotions and-¡±. Corvus stopped himself before he made her mad again. ¡°And the Shivrians.¡±


    He would¡¯ve continued talking about the disagreements that the two most dangerous places have had over the years, but his throat caught for a moment when he talked about Shivron. The smiling face of a girl who was so familiar to him flashed across his memory, and tugged at his chest. That feeling was gone moments later, but it still put a stop to the conversation. The silence settled once more, quiet and calm.


    Cleo glanced over, eyeing Corvus carefully, still not entirely sure what to make of him. She decided to ask more over food, taking the rabbit off the fire and breaking off a sizzling leg for herself. She offered one to Corvus, who took it in silence. After several bites, Cleo spoke up.


    ¡°So. You want to learn more about that anchor of yours?¡± Her gaze was steady and cautious.


    ¡°Yes. If it¡¯s alive like that tiger of yours then will it attack me?¡± Corvus shrugged back.


    A small smile crept on her lips, and she leaned back a little.


    ¡°No. Neither your anchor nor my tiger are alive. They''re weapons.¡± She took another bite of rabbit.


    ¡°Weapons? That seems a little too simple for all the stuff that I can do now. Is my healing a weapon then?¡± Corvus scratched his head, thinking if he should start using his arms as clubs.


    ¡°I can¡¯t explain everything to you here and now, but there¡¯s the place where I live that can tell you everything. They start teaching the newcomers in about three months and it¡¯ll take us a month or so to walk there, taking the bandits, predators, magical creatures and toll roads we need to kill or dodge.¡± She listed off the threats like a shopping list. ¡°But for now, I¡¯ll tell you the basics of what we are.¡±


    Corvus swallowed the bone that he was chewing on and, after deciding that it probably wouldn¡¯t kill him, sat forward, listening intently. Off in the distance, Corvus heard the flapping of a pair of wings as a crow settled next to the sleeping Gilgamesh on the branch of a tree.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Back when this world was created, the land was whole and full of life. Then, as if from nowhere, magic arrived and split the land into the 4 lands we know today: Havare, the central mainland and largest of the lands where you live; Cindrea, the northern land of fire, where I came from; Shivron, the southern land of ice; and the islands of Ruin, far to the east or west, depending which way round the world you go and where ships go to die.¡± Cleo explained.


    ¡°What''s with the history lesson? Everyone knows that, or a least everyone that had to listen to nobles flex their magic around.¡± Corvus complained.


    Cleo shushed him, causing the crow that was eyeing the rabbit to recoil slightly.


    ¡°History is the foundation of who we are, so be quiet and listen.¡± She scolded, pointing the remains of her rabbit leg at Corvus.


    Gilgamesh snorted, muttering something about snakes and wolves before settling to a noisy sleep once more.


    Cleo chewed another piece of the sizzling rabbit and scratched her chin while she though of how to explain things easily. She swallowed and snapped her fingers, finding the right words to use.


    ¡°Once people started showing up, there were some who weren¡¯t like the rest, who had amazing strength and powers. There''s still some debate about how, but most people accept that they had an unnaturally strong connection to the magic that split the world. Some had more strength than others, but they were all considered incredibly powerful and dangerous. No matter when they were born or what their circumstances were, they always grew to be warriors, kings, heroes and tyrants, as if they refused to be anything less than revered. But when they died, their souls didn¡¯t, the magic within them refusing to give up. So they reincarnated themselves into new bodies, sharing their souls and powers with a new generation.


    ¡°But something happened that no one could see coming. From this reincarnation, new magic sprung into existence. Their souls were so powerful that their lives and deaths stuck. Their new bodies couldn''t use the powers that they once did directly, but instead had to channel it through life magic. And their deaths were so impactful to the world that they could be channelled through death magic. Almost none of them had enough power to use both though, only getting one or the other depending which was more closely aligned with them. Eventually, after several cycles of reincarnations, they could channel not only the powers of their original selves, but the lives and deaths of every other past life they had.


    ¡°But we¡¯re only human, and eventually, those who channeled life took up arms against those who channeled death, as they both saw each other as wrong and abominations. It used to be that their battles wiped out towns and families whenever they occurred, but eventually, the people stood up and said no. There was a revolt, the people formed all their weapons and armies into one gigantic army, all the peoples of the world united under their own blanket of hate, and they wiped out both the wielders of life and death. They came back, but the message was clear, they had to be secret if they were to survive.


    ¡°They hid together in covens, caves and tombs, wherever the people that hunted them wouldn''t look. The years piled up, life and death clashed in secret, favouring assassination over sheer power to help them hide. Then time made people forget that they were united, and they sunk back into war. The wielders of life took this chance, uniting themselves with the largest kingdom of Havare to protect themselves and gain power over the wielders of death, who decided to join their opposition. When Havare took victory in the end, they were convinced that death was the enemy, hunting them with the aid of life, driving them into secrecy once more.¡±


    Silence settled over the fire, the crackling had gone quiet and the glow had dimmed so that Cleo¡¯s face was almost completely hidden by shadow. Even Gilgamesh¡¯s snoring was gone, as he watched the camp with an unreadable expression. The crow that sat beside him was staring, unblinking, its black eyes seeing everything. Corvus eventually broke the silence.


    ¡°Which are we then?¡± He asked, still staring at Cleo.


    She didn¡¯t answer, staring at the ground, lost in her own thoughts. Corvus snapped his fingers in front of her, bringing her back to reality. She blushed slightly and cleared her throat.


    ¡°Your anchor, my tiger and everything else I can do¡­¡±. She trailed off, trying to find the words.


    She reached her hand out into the air, as if waiting to feel something. Her hand moved but it was not silent. A low scratch/hum echoed around the camp, as black lines inked from her index finger onto reality. This was different to before, when she was drawing a symbol, as it wasn¡¯t complicated or full of intent. It was a sentence. It wasn¡¯t anything that Corvus could understand, but the long string of characters hung in the air, perfectly still, begging to be read. She finished writing, and nudged the sentence in Corvus¡¯ direction, floating it over to him. He stared at the characters, trying to make sense of them, but no sense would come. He shrugged in her direction. She sighed, as if doing this a thousand times.


    ¡°Read the whole thing, not just parts of it.¡± Her voice was that of an irritated teacher.


    Corvus raised an eyebrow but looked back at the sentence anyway. Instead of trying to make sense of the characters, he looked at the whole thing as instructed. The letters shifted, vibrating in his eyes. There was a curious pulsing in his head as he looked at the writing closer. He began to make out words.


    ¡°An eye¡­ever watchful¡­on those who survive¡­Death¡­will remind¡­no one¡¯s safe who''s¡­alive.¡± Corvus spelled out slowly. He looked back to Cleo, her face slightly sad.


    ¡°Death. That¡¯s who we are.¡± Her voice was tired and weary.


    Corvus took all of that in, staring into the sky. His eyes glazed over and he looked over to Gilgamesh, who was sitting quietly, his eyes shimmering silver in the darkness. Corvus didn¡¯t bother to try and imagine what he was thinking behind his ever shifting gaze. Corvus stood, removing his tattered shirt and jacket, much to Cleo¡¯s surprise, almost choking on the water she was drinking. She coughed out her shock and took a breath.


    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Her voice was a mix of surprise and shock.


    ¡°Changing.¡± Corvus shrugged. ¡°Torn clothes are annoying, and I don¡¯t have any spares. I¡¯ll fix them in the morning.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t you be cold?¡± Her face changed to slight confusion.


    ¡°Can¡¯t get cold.¡± He said to the air, as he lay down on a patch of moss. ¡°You can sleep if you want but you probably don¡¯t trust me enough yet. Your choice.¡±


    Corvus didn¡¯t hear her answer, as he fell into the chasm of sleep almost immediately. An almost endless white void. There was nothing there. It was a sharp, almost grating contrast from the dark forest.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t advise talking to me around her, or anyone for that matter. Wouldn¡¯t want them to see you any crazier than you already are.¡± Gilgamesh¡¯s smooth, perfect voice echoed around like they were in the largest chapel in existence.


    ¡°You¡¯re just angry that she knows more than you.¡± Corvus countered, turning to where he thought the voice was coming from, but meeting only the same void.


    ¡°No one knows more than me, boy. Remember it well.¡± Gilgamesh threatened, suddenly behind Corvus, a terrifying undertone to his voice.


    ¡°How can I remember it when there''s so much you''re not telling me?¡± Corvus returned Gilgamesh¡¯s steely gaze.


    Gilgamesh went silent. His gaze hardened further, causing a ripple of hesitation in Corvus.


    ¡°If I told you half of what I know, you¡¯d wish that bullet had killed you.¡±

 Chapter 10: Nest Invasion

    Corvus¡¯ sleep passed without any further threatening conversations or dreams. He woke up with a fly on his nose, which he quickly shooed and sat up. Cleo was sitting perfectly still on the same log that she had been the night before, her spear resting on her lap and her eyes closed. Curious,


    Corvus picked up a nearby twig and flicked it at her. Her hand shot up like a viper, catching and snapping the twig in one single movement.


    Her eyes opened with an irritated scowl following shortly after.


    ¡°Do you mind?¡± She dropped the twig and returned to her meditative state.


    Corvus felt a small spark of something inside him, that vanished in an instant. He¡¯d have to figure out what it was later. He looked down to his naked upper half, covered in small twigs and several small insects. He swept them to the ground and looked to his shredded clothes.


    ¡®This is gonna take a long time to stitch.¡¯ Corvus complained internally, taking his sewing kit out of his pack.


    Threading the needle, he looked up at Cleo, her face perfectly at peace, but her senses poised to kill anything that moved close to her. Corvus decided to throw words instead.


    ¡°So what are you? The errand runner?¡± Corvus asked casually.


    ¡°I will cut up more than your clothes, kid.¡± She countered, without opening her eyes.


    ¡°Well, if where you live is so far south, why are you this far north?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow.


    That made her open her eyes, and she locked gaze with Corvus.


    ¡°Information.¡± She said, coldly. ¡°As you saw, I''m probably the fastest and quietest person who wields death, so I make the perfect spy.¡±


    ¡°And you can¡¯t just read the notice board? It doesn¡¯t take a spy to know that the church is strongest in the capital, not the northern sailing villages. So why here?¡±


    She was silent for several seconds.


    ¡°It''s more complicated than that. They¡¯re everywhere. Besides¡­¡±. She lowered her gaze. ¡°It''s personal.¡± She whispered.


    ¡°It''s what?¡± Corvus asked, not entirely focussed on her, but instead on trying to figure out how to stitch what was essentially ribbons.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± She sighed, standing up and stretching. She scanned the surroundings before fixing her eyes on a small shrub several feet away from her.


    ¡°Need some privacy?¡± Corvus asked, raising his other eyebrow.


    She didn¡¯t answer, instead creeping forward, making no sound and barely moving enough to be seen. Corvus was fixated on her movements, efficient and silent. He had never been so in awe of skill before.


    Then she vanished.


    A small gust of wind blew where she once was rustling a couple of leaves beneath her. The shrub began violently rustling, squeaking and grunting. Corvus dropped his clothes and drew a throwing knife out of his belt, reached his hand back, and waited for the rustling to stop. There was a sharp crack. Corvus narrowed his eyes, ready to kill.


    Cleo stood up from behind the bush, dead fox in hand. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the knife but quickly caught her breath and sighed in irritation. She began walking back over, eyeing the knife carefully. Corvus lowered it and returned to his sewing. Cleo never ceased to be taken aback by Corvus¡¯ ease of movement between moods. She shrugged slightly and sat down to skin her prey. There was a nagging thought I the back of Corvus¡¯ mind.


    ¡°How do you do that? The vanishing thing?¡± He asked, keeping his eyes on the ever growing stitches.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know? I thought you had one too.¡± She mused as she began removing the fox¡¯x fur.


    When she looked to Corvus, being met by his confused gaze, she sighed at his ignorance. She reached down the neck of her hunting gear and pulled on a small, golden chain. She produced an amulet with a very familiar symbol.


    ¡°You¡¯re a Swallow, huh?¡± Corvus noted, looking down at his bracelet that glinted back at him.


    ¡°And you¡¯re not, judging by how little you know about them.¡± She chuckled, putting the amulet back down her gear. ¡°Did you know that, for example, each Swallow has one of five enchantments?¡±


    She raised a quizzical eyebrow.


    ¡°They used to be my armour you know.¡± Gilgamesh said, appearing out of nowhere to lounge on a small tree stump. ¡°One enchantment for each piece. I never wore a helmet of course. A nightmare to keep my hair set.¡± He began ranting to himself about helmets and how they inspire nothing but lacking beauty, which Corvus decided to ignore and continue talking to Cleo.


    ¡°No. So that vanishing thing is the Swallow? Can I do that too then?¡± Corvus wondered out loud.


    ¡°Maybe, but I wouldn¡¯t bet on it. And the ¡®vanishing thing¡¯ is called Feather-Step, get it right.¡± She chided him. ¡°And since you¡¯re not a Swallow, who did you get that bracelet off?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡±. Corvus searched his memories for a name or face. Instead he recalled a sabre, sailing down , bathed in fire that was seeping out of the steel. ¡°I don¡¯t remember a name, but his sword was on fire.¡± Corvus confessed.


    Cleo spread her arms.


    ¡°Well there you are then. Yours is Enchantment. Here.¡± She extended her right hand, shadows coiling up and amassing a writhing mass of darkness, the tattoos on her arm violently swimming under her skin. Corvus was slightly hesitant, but drew his large dagger anyway and slowly moved the blade into the darkness. The instant that the steel touched the shadows, his bracelet flared to life, shining golden light every which way. The blade absorbed the shadows and turned an inky black colour, that shimmered and pulsed.


    Corvus stared at the void that spread out in the dagger, lost in fascination. An idea sprung forth in his mind. He summoned his anchor and held it over his lap, lining up the dagger. He caught a surprised look from Cleo before stabbing downwards, causing the bracelet to shine with brilliant light once again. The shadows spread over the anchor like poisoned veins, seeping into the ethereal steel. The dagger brightened, returning to its reflective state, flashing a small beam of light into Corvus¡¯ eye. He returned the dagger to its sheath and studied the pitch black anchor in detail.


    The darkness coiled beneath the surface, like a viper waiting to strike.


    Curious, Corvus lifted the weapon and brought it slowly down on the ground. The magic roared to life, rushing out of the edge of the anchor and into the ground, cracking and breaking the earth. A small crater remained below, Corvus and Cleo staring in amazement alike.


    ¡°Cool.¡± Corvus noted, letting his anchor fall back into nonexistence. Cleo nodded in agreement.


    ¡°You¡¯ll want to hide that bracelet. People will do more than kill for it.¡± Cleo¡¯s voice was instructive, with a hint of amusement. She returned to her fox carcass, leaving Corvus to figure it out. He looked at his still-tattered clothes, not really helpful. He was wearing nothing on his top half besides the bracelet and several biting insects that has latched on before he could notice. Then his eyes turned to his armour and gear.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    He was still wearing his greaves, but the bracelet wouldn''t go around his ankle. There was the same problem with his belt of knives and his holster for Raven. Then there was his bracers. Their smooth leather had the perfect straps to hold it close but not uncomfortable against his skin. It would take a bit of adjustment, but it would be the perfect place to fit the gold bracelet to.


    Corvus sighed in irritation. It would take him an hour or two to adjust the bracer, meaning he was that much further from having a shirt again. He didn¡¯t feel cold or exposed but he still felt some wanting for a shirt. He decided to get to work.


    The hours passed quietly, Cleo rotating the fox on the re-awakened fire, keeping the skin for herself and occasionally tossing questions about Corvus¡¯ life, which he answered as best as he could with his faulty memory. The rays of sunlight were perfectly vertical by the time he had finished adjusting the bracer to his right wrist, fitting the bracelet into the newly made indent perfectly.


    ¡°You really are good with that needle, boy. You should be a housewife.¡± Gilgamesh jested from one of his various improvised perching points of bored relaxation.


    He had not remained still for more than a minute, vanishing and reappearing to tease Corvus or swing his hands at the nearby crows, who occasionally looked around, not realising that a bored Demi-God-former-King was passing his imaginary arms through them. Corvus had found that ignoring him only made him angrier, which was mildly entertaining to watch in the silence.


    Then the silence was broken by a snapping twig.


    Corvus¡¯ ears flicked, following the sound. He picked up his other bracer and fixed it to his left hand, following the imperceptible rustling of clothes and steel. He stood up and met Cleo¡¯s gaze, who was standing as well, her spear already in hand. With a small motion of her head, Cleo encouraged him to hurry up with the rest of his weapons while she attempted to locate the sound.


    Corvus did just that, slinging his knives to his belt and strapping his dagger to the curve in his back. He kept his eyes in the opposite direction to Cleo¡¯s, looking for something that he couldn¡¯t see. After strapping Raven to his left hip, he drew her and pulled back one of her hammers, aiming her where he could hear vague rustling. Cleo joined him in pointing her weapon at the ever growing sounds.


    She glanced over to him, noting that he still wasn¡¯t wearing a shirt. She raised a sceptical eyebrow at him.


    ¡°At least it won¡¯t get ruined again.¡± Corvus said, quietly shrugging.


    They returned their gaze to the rustling, too big to be forest animals, too many to be any local predator, too small to be a magical beast. Corvus guessed bandits, keeping Raven steady towards the dark undergrowth. The shadows rippled as a shape began to form. Cleo¡¯s grip tightened.


    Corvus¡¯ finger twitched on the trigger. The figure strode forward until it was discernible as human. The way it walked and the size suggested that it was male and more muscle than brain, either that or it was holding a very large hammer.


    The figure stepped into a sunbeam, the light toying with the darkness. As it turns out, Corvus¡¯ assessment was right, somewhat.


    He was a stick of a man, wearing flowing animal skins and scraps of traveller¡¯s clothes as a cape to try and increase his size. He was slightly taller than Corvus, but lacked any of the presence due to his lack of bulk. What he lacked in bulk, though, he made up with swagger, sauntering forward with a self assured smile on his face and a patchwork mess of quilts and different colours, that Corvus assumed to be a flag of some kind, leaning on his shoulder.


    He stopped his saunter about ten feet away from them, planting the ¡®flag¡¯ to his right. He spread his arms and smiled with so much self-confidence, Corvus wasn¡¯t sure if he thought he was a god.


    ¡°Good day, my friends.¡± He spoke with a measured civility that might¡¯ve been confused for someone of high standard if he didn¡¯t look like a jester that raided a tailor. ¡°That smells divine. Might I join you?¡±


    Corvus and Cleo glanced at each other, debating who should talk first. Corvus took the torch.


    ¡°Sorry, not enough to go around for a group.¡± Corvus shrugged, keeping Raven trained on his chest.


    ¡°Group?¡± The man tilted his head in mock confusion. ¡°It is just me.¡± He was a terrible actor, then again Corvus wasn¡¯t sure if he was trying or not.


    ¡°We might be able to feed three, but not all seven of you.¡± Corvus said, his voice level and indifferent. Cleo shot a confused glance out the corner of her eye.


    The man¡¯s smile vanished and was replaced by a picture of shock.


    ¡°H-How did-ya¡­how did you know?¡± His regal and formal tone broke before he coughed and tried again, trying to bring his smile back to little effect.


    ¡°I can hear you breathing.¡± Corvus threatened.


    ¡°Really?¡± Cleo and the man chorused, both staring at Corvus in confusion.


    ¡°No. Lucky guess.¡± Corvus hit his palm against his forehead, this was the least exciting mugging that he had ever heard of.


    The man regained his composure and turned his gaze to Cleo.


    ¡°And you, madam? Is there any way I can assist you? I promise I am better than your husband there.¡± His arrogance was sickening.


    Cleo¡¯s face went slightly pale, her eyes boiling over with murderous rage and grief. She closed her eyes, taking a breath.


    ¡°One. No thank you. Two. You¡¯re not my type. Three. He¡¯s not my husband, in fact he¡¯s young enough to be my son.¡± She spoke methodically, barely containing a deep-seeded fury.


    ¡°Nonsense, you are still young are you not?¡± He spoke with charm, as if he had experience with women, though his clothes suggested otherwise.


    ¡°I¡¯m 42.¡± She spoke directly and harshly, the green in her eyes flared.


    ¡°Really?¡± Corvus and the man spoke over each other, both staring with confusion and surprise atCleo. Her skin lightened with blush and she scowled at Corvus.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Corvus apologised then turned to the man. ¡°Listen, pal. Either you lot come here and attack us already or leave. Just make it quick either way.¡±


    The surprise never left his face but his smile returned.


    ¡°We wouldn¡¯t dream of hurting such a lovely lady as her, but if you insist on dying then we¡¯ll gladly oblige.¡± He grinned, snapping his fingers. At that moment, arrows and bolts burst from the undergrowth, all flying towards Corvus.


    He smoothly drew his dagger into his right hand, dodging the first arrow, he caught the second and third on the blade of his dagger, flinging them aside. The fourth sailed passed him harmlessly, while the last two hit his stomach and chest.


    The man grinned, before realising that Cleo took the moment to feather-step to him and drive her spear through his heart. He coughed up blood and fell to the ground like the dead weight he was. There were several cries from the undergrowth as the other bandits abandoned their hiding spots to get a shot at Cleo.


    A large man swung an axe at her head, which she skilfully deflected and simultaneously slit his throat with a swipe of her spear. She melted into the shadows to avoid the spray of his blood, which dyed the forest floor a deep crimson. Three more bandits appeared, crying for their fallen comrade, drawing daggers and stolen blades to fight a disappearing foe.


    Cleo sprung from the shadow of a tree launching her spear through the nearest bandit¡¯s chest. The man clutched at the point that now extended from his chest, desperate for life, before losing it and collapsing. Before the rest had even turned around, she had her concealed short-spears in hand, sending the first through the head of the woman on her left, who tried to raise her axe in defence but was sluggish in her grief.


    The final of the group of three cried out a name, that was lost through his tears and his rage when he stabbed his dagger down to Cleo¡¯s chest. She sent her other short-spear through his wrist and used it as a lever to twist his strike wide. She silenced his screams by extracting her first weapon from the visceral remains of the woman and sent it through the man¡¯s heart. They crumpled to the ground in silence, a tight-knit group of friends dying in moments.


    Cleo stowed her weapons back in their concealed sheathes behind her shoulders and tugged her spear free of the first man¡¯s chest. She turned around to see a boy, no older than 15 aiming a crossbow at her, tears in his eyes and fury on his face.


    Cleo raised her spear in defence but a shot rang out through the forest, and blood began seeping through the boy¡¯s shirt. He collapsed, the life draining from his eyes and his crossbow firing into the dirt. Corvus had Raven raised, one barrel smoking, where the boy once stood. He looked to where the last bandit was standing, dumbfounded by the speed of the slaughter.


    Corvus began casually walking over to the terrified man, who fell over in his attempts to flee. He began crawling in terror, whimpering as he curled into a ball beside a tree. He looked up at Corvus, who was standing over him, Raven pointed down at him. The man¡¯s eyes were spilling tears and his trousers were sodden from more than his crawling.


    ¡°P-Please! I-I have a f-family! I''m b-begging you!¡± The man whimpered, barely coherent through his cries.


    Corvus looked him dead in the eye, not breaking his gaze for a moment, before raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°And?¡± Corvus asked, irritated. The man¡¯s eyes widened in terror.


    Corvus pulled the trigger, silencing the man for good.


    Cleo eyed Corvus as he reloaded Raven and casually walked away from the massacre. She walked over and fell into step beside him, still glancing at him. He noticed her gaze and returned it.


    ¡°What?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow.


    Cleo¡¯s face didn¡¯t move for several seconds of walking. She finally asked.


    ¡°Could you really hear them breathe?¡± She was squinting in skepticism.


    ¡°Who knows?¡± Corvus shrugged. ¡°Come on, before the food burns.¡±


    They made their way back to the makeshift campsite, ate the slightly blackened fox silently, and packed up what things they had. They had a long journey ahead of them.

 Chapter 11: Hunters Hunted

    The two of them began their journey, filled with mainly walking, eating, sleeping and sewing, much to Corvus¡¯ irritation. There wasn¡¯t much conversation between the two, aside from Cleo occasionally going on long tirades about how Corvus wasn¡¯t possible and listing off all the things wrong with him.


    Gilgamesh chimed in with his own points about how Corvus¡¯ appearance was terrible, which Corvus would¡¯ve taken offence to had he not blocked out both by focussing on fixing his shredded jacket. At least he had a shirt now, with some help from the now-dead bandits.


    But all this theorising and long rants about the world had got Corvus thinking about himself. Gilgamesh wouldn¡¯t give him an answer, instead giving the same ¡®your path¡¯ speech over and over again, and Cleo said she didn¡¯t want to lead him on with ideas that might turn out to be false.


    Corvus stopped wondering about himself shortly after. Instead, he turned Cleo¡¯s mind to the world, prying for more information about how the life and death came about. She gladly took him through another explanation of the world, but more about magic than before.


    ¡°The magic that split the world is most commonly called Primal magic, it¡¯s what makes the islands of Ruin so dangerous and also what gave the original heroes their incredible souls. These days it¡¯s almost completely vanished, the Ruin islands being the exception, replaced with other forms of magic that are made of small pieces and fragments of Primal magic. Mages and wizards use


    Arcane magic to power their spells, Shamans use Natural magic to fuel their hexes, Alchemists use various objects and earthy elements to create sudden bursts of Rift magic, and of course there''s life and death magic on top if that.¡± She had explained, as if tutoring a child, which Corvus technically was.


    The rest of the days were spent quietly walking through the forest, nothing of note besides Gilgamesh occasionally cursing and yelling at particularly annoying birds.


    It was rather easy to tell that he was incredibly bored.


    The memories of the journey faded fast, until one moment that was particularly memorable happened to them.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t fully understand this.¡± Cleo called, removing her spear from the neck of a large bear cub that was still holding Corvus¡¯ severed leg in its mouth. ¡°I mean, how are you ok with losing limbs?¡±


    Corvus shrugged, strapping his greave to his newly grown leg.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t feel it and they grow back. I¡¯ll have to sew up the damage though.¡± Corvus scowled at his torn trousers. ¡°What is with me and damaged clothes?¡±


    Cleo stepped off the beast, tossing Corvus¡¯ shoe back to him that she had recovered from the inside of the cub.


    ¡°Come on, get that on quickly. We don¡¯t want to be here when its parents get here.¡± Cleo warned, strapping her spear to her back.


    ¡°Parents? Something that size has parents?¡± Corvus raised his eyebrow doubtfully, while manoeuvring his new foot into the near-swallowed shoe.


    ¡°You¡¯ve really never been this far from a town?¡± Cleo looked at him like he was a toddler. ¡°Well, get ready to be chased by a full grown magical beast then.¡± Her face portrayed sarcasm, but her eyes flickered with fear.


    ¡°I''m pretty sure I''ve killed several Axel sharks before. A bear is no problem.¡± Corvus said, testing his new leg with some weight before walking over to Cleo. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the slight fear in her eyes. ¡°Wait¡­just how deadly are we talking here?¡±


    ¡°Depending on the breed, they can use magic to an extent.¡± Cleo¡¯s voice was shaky, as she began to walk in the direction that the were following.


    ¡°And we¡¯re not running?¡± Corvus asked, walking beside her.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost at the edge of the forest, they won¡¯t follow us there unless¡­¡±. Cleo''s voice trailed off, a bead of sweat running down her face as she turned her walk into a run.


    ¡°So we are running. Unless what?¡± Corvus asked, dodging around a tree and keeping beside her.


    ¡°If it¡¯s an entity, then we¡¯re probably going to die.¡± Cleo shouted, turning her run into a full-on sprint.


    ¡°Entity? Please tell me there''s not super-powered magic bears now.¡± Corvus complained, easily keeping pace beside her.


    ¡°It''s the name for the strongest alpha-males. I¡¯ve heard stories about a dire-wolf entity that was twice the size of the next biggest male.¡± Cleo panted, bounding over a tangle of roots.


    ¡°Poor females.¡± Corvus muttered to himself then turned to Cleo. ¡°How does that mean we¡¯re dead if they don¡¯t leave the forest?¡±


    ¡°You really think something that big and strong is afraid if it loses cover? We just have to hope that we didn¡¯t kill the wrong bear cub.¡± Cleo almost laughed at the rising tension.


    Corvus nodded, before fully focussing on the run forward. He began running with all the strength he could muster. The trees began to fly past faster and faster, the world moved by more and more until the features of the land began to fade into a mass of mixed colours. He only realised just how fast he was moving after two things: when Gilgamesh floated beside him and cursed at him for waking him up, and when he heard a scream behind him.


    He stopped instantly, skidding to a halt and nearly face-planting into a tree. He scanned behind him, before realising that Cleo was nowhere to be seen. He looked to his path, small craters where his feet fell, the perfect backtrack. He began to run back, more carefully this time, searching his surroundings for Cleo and the source of the scream.


    Then there was the roar. A guttural, bestial fury that shook not only the earth, but almost the whole forest. Corvus knew where he was going now, and sprinted towards the noise. He could hear Cleo, panting and running out of energy. Great bounds of a massive and angry beast was also close by.


    He had to get to her first.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Tiny thoughts of abandoning her and running flashed across his mind, but he vehemently shoved them aside for reasons he didn¡¯t quite understand. There was only one thing that he would accept in his mind right now, and that was saving her. He¡¯d have to pick Gilgamesh¡¯s brains about it, assuming he didn¡¯t avoid the question again.


    He broke out into a full sprint in the direction of the noises. He summoned his anchor to his side, darting his eyes across the forest, seeking the ever-growing source of the noises.


    There was movement. Corvus¡¯ eyes focussed on Cleo, her face a mask of fear and her red-black skin was scratched and scored from small branches. Then there was movement behind her, and a lot of it. Corvus chose not to focus on it, instead sprinting towards Cleo. She spotted him, her eyes widened before her brow furrowed in pain and exertion. The tattoos on her left hand coiled and writhed, forming a black skull in her outstretched palm and launching it towards Corvus.


    At first, he was confused, but he saw her tapping her wrist and understood her plan. He threw his anchor out, keeping an iron grip on the extending length of chain. The skull hit the ethereal steel and quickly began seeping black energy into it, sending veins of black over the surface. He didn¡¯t stop to let it settle, instead pulling it to himself and skidding to a halt in front of Cleo.


    She ran past him, saying something that Corvus didn¡¯t listen to. Instead, he was focused on the earth-shaking bounds of what he could be see clearly.


    Sure enough, it was a bear. A rather large bear. Ten feet tall? Fifteen maybe? But what made it terrifying, was the fact that dark purple clouds swan in and out of its enormous amethyst hide, sparking violet fires and puffs of poison all over. Corvus was certain of one thing.


    ¡°This is going to suck.¡± Corvus noted quietly, sprinting towards the beast. He heard Cleo call after him.


    ¡°Wait! You don¡¯t stand a chance! It''s an¡ª¡°. She screamed at him.


    ¡°Entity. I guessed.¡± Corvus called back, running faster.


    ¡°You¡¯ll die!¡± Cleo was trying to chase after him, but her exhaustion floored her.


    ¡°I can survive this.¡± Corvus said, half to himself.


    The deep, sickening purple of the Entity¡¯s eyes bored into him like Gilgamesh¡¯s, less from authority and irritation charisma, more with sheer terror and power. It opened its monstrous jaws, sending an ear-splitting roar and several drops of disgusting saliva sizzling against the ground. Its eyes bulged slightly, and its throat began to swell as a jet of poisonous vapour spewed out like a geyser, bubbling and singeing the ground and trees.


    Corvus¡¯ eyes widened slightly with effort as he began sprinting at full speed towards the cloud of poison and the giant mass of angry bear. He vaguely heard Cleo scream behind him, something about that not being the plan. Corvus was starting to get annoyed by the fact that she was worrying.


    ¡°I can survive anything!¡± Corvus shouted, a sudden fire in his void-like heart.


    He sent power to his legs, kicking the ground with everything he had. He was launched skyward, over the bellowing cloud of poison and far over the head of the confused Entity. He was going to over-shoot.


    Corvus flung his anchor with reckless abandon, ignoring the branches and trees breaking against his back. The anchor flew down, the scraping sound of the chain extending filled his ears. The bear was starting to look up when the anchor flew down and used its mouth as a purchase, almost lifting the surprised creature¡¯s front legs off the ground. Corvus stopped in mid-air, coiling the excess chain round his right hand before pulling down with all his might.


    The bear roared angrily at being used this way, pulling its head back down. This sent Corvus rocketing towards the monster¡¯s back. He felt his bracelet glow and pulse against his skin as the black inky magic swam from all over the anchor and chain to the small section that was wrapped around his hand, which emitted a low hum of powerful magic.


    His fist collided with the Entity¡¯s spine, using all of his strength and all of Cleo¡¯s spell in one hit that sent shockwaves through the beast. There were cracks of bones coming from both Corvus and the bear and it whined in pain. Corvus took a handful of the thick, green hide with his left hand and used it as a handhold to launch himself back towards its front where Cleo was.


    The bear looked up at Corvus when he flew passed. He waved politely, causing the bear to tilt his head in confusion. Corvus landed in a heap on the ground, breaking more bones. He was pretty sure that he had torn every muscle he had, and his right arm was essentially a bag of skin full of shredded viscera.


    ¡°Could be worse.¡± Corvus noted, trying and failing to stand on a broken leg. He tried his other leg and quickly found himself upright again, feeling the bones shift themselves in his many broken body parts. The bear was also trying to stand, with just as little success. It''s hind legs weren¡¯t moving at all and its front paws were clawing at the ground, attempting to move.


    There was blood coming from its mouth from where Corvus¡¯ anchor was and it had a small crater in its back. It''s eyes were glowing with rage and there was violet fire streaking across its hide, wishing to be released. The bear was staring them down with a look of murderous rage. Corvus understood. He turned to Cleo, who was on the ground, wide eyed and frozen in awe.


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ll be with you in a minute.¡±. Corvus apologised before turning back to face the bear. His bones had almost fully reformed and his muscles were raring to go, tensing with anticipation. Then something unexpected happened.


    The flames on the bear¡¯s hide kept up and flew towards Corvus in coiling whips. Corvus swiftly drew his dagger from his back, holding it towards the closest ribbon of flame.


    His bracelet flared to life under his wrist-guard again, just as intense as before. The writhing purple fire leeched into the steel, turning the blade a shimmering violet. The rest of the flames changed course, swimming through the air towards the blade and being absorbed just the same.


    When the air was clear, the dagger was almost hard to look at with how bright it was, and the handle was sizzling against Corvus¡¯ skin. It would probably leave a scar. Corvus began running towards the bear, careful not to re-break his bones that weren¡¯t fully healed yet.


    The bear¡¯s eyes were full of fear. It began desperately clawing at the ground to try and escape. After it judged that to be impossible, it opened its mouth and bit into the ground, its teeth sizzling against the soil.


    Vines and roots began swelling from the ground and striking at Corvus, trying to trip him up. He kept running regardless. There was movement above his head, which he chose to ignore, and focus on the treacherous ground. A thunderous crack to his right did get his attention.


    A tree began falling in front of him. Even if he had both hands, his body was in no condition to hold that weight. Corvus threw his dagger in the air, hoping to catch it before it hit something and lost the magic.


    He hopped over the tree and looked for his dagger in the air. It wasn¡¯t where he expected it. There was a murder of crows flying around it, each carrying it two at a time and swapping when their feet began to feel the heat. Their cawing filled the forest. Corvus didn¡¯t really understand, but he kept running towards the bear, leaping up to deliver a kill strike.


    The crows dropped the dagger into his hand, point down, full to the brim with fire. The crows cawed, though Corvus couldn''t tell what they meant.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Corvus said, quietly, aiming the dagger downwards.


    The point met the bear¡¯s neck, while its jaws were swinging wildly at the pain. The fire left the blade and filled the poor beast, incinerating it from the inside out. It''s roars of agony filled the forest, sending animals skittering for cover and birds flying for the sky.


    Its screams turned into silence as its hide turned to ash. The scent of charred entity wafted through the forest, either terrifying or enticing hungry creatures.


    Corvus stepped off the corpse¡¯s neck, removing his scorched dagger from the charred neck. Cleo was standing just a few feet away, in stunned silence. Her expression quickly changed to worry and she began to ask how Corvus was still alive. He held up his hand to stop her.


    ¡°I told you, I can survive anything.¡± Corvus waved aside the worry and began walking over to her.


    ¡°No need to¡­¡±. Corvus¡¯ voice trailed off as his vision blurred and his senses went dark. He felt himself collapse to the ground, hearing a vague sense of her cries.


    ¡®Oh. Guess not.¡¯

 Chapter 12: Consequences

    Corvus¡¯ eyes snapped open, and he sat up like a bolt. White. Nothing but white. Corvus sagged slightly, sighing.


    ¡°So I¡¯m here, huh?¡± His voice echoed around the ever expanding white void of his unconscious mind. He stood up on the curiously solid ground and scanned the imperceptible horizon for Gilgamesh. His eyes found something else. A patch of dark in the distance. He couldn¡¯t make it out clearly from where he was standing, so he began to take a step towards it. In that instant, he was face to face with it.


    ¡®This place doesn¡¯t make sense.¡¯. Corvus mused to himself, before his eyes widened at what he was looking at. It wasn¡¯t something in the void that was dark. It was the void itself that was charred and wilted with sickening blacks and violets. Corvus was at a lost for words. He had no idea what he was looking at, but pangs of regret and worry echoed through the chasm of his heart.


    ¡°That¡¯s your fault.¡± Gilgamesh''s perfect voice was steeped in rage as he appeared behind Corvus. ¡°Why would you hold that much magic inside a dagger that can¡¯t take it?¡±


    ¡°First of all, I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Corvus countered, putting up defences in his voice. ¡°Second, how was I supposed to know it was dangerous when you don¡¯t tell me anything. I''m not surprised that your kingdom celebrates your death.¡± Corvus turned and put daggers into his stare.


    He immediately regretted it.


    Gilgamesh grabbed Corvus by the throat and lifted him off the ground of the void and threw him down in front of the charred scar. Corvus looked up in surprise. Gilgamesh wasn¡¯t real, so he shouldn¡¯t be able to touch him. Then again, they weren''t in the real world.


    While Corvus was busy contemplating this, Gilgamesh stormed over to him, his pitch black eyes burning. He slammed his hand on Corvus¡¯ head and made him look at the black scarring.


    ¡°Do you want to keep doing this to yourself? I overestimated your capability for survival and now look at you! Your childish invincibility complex has ruined you!¡± Gilgamesh was almost screaming with rage at this point, forcing Corvus to keep looking at the scarring. Corvus felt a twitch of anger. He began to force himself up, against the immovable strength of Gilgamesh.


    Corvus¡¯ gaze met with Gilgamesh¡¯s, a pitch black abyss of fury. Corvus began pushing himself back up, and Gilgamesh continued to force him down. It was impossible. Gilgamesh was unbelievably strong, and Corvus felt like a child trying to move a castle. Gilgamesh tensed himself, forcing all the resistance out of Corvus.


    He was about to give up, let himself be held to the ground and accept that there was no way to go against the might of Gilgamesh. He was perfect in every way. He possessed unrivalled strength, unique and powerful magics, an oppressive beauty that commanded respect from even those who had none. He was unbeatable.


    And that made Corvus sick.


    The sound of a thousand angry wings filled the void. Gilgamesh glanced up but returned his gaze to Corvus shortly after. Their caws shattered through the ground. Corvus pushed up with all the strength he could muster. Gilgamesh¡¯s arms began to shudder and a wave of confusion passed over his face. Corvus pushed himself up off the ground, pressing his shoulder into Gilgamesh¡¯s hands, pushing back with his whole body.


    The white void began to crack from their feud. Their strengths colliding in a slow contest of strength where the winner takes all. A silver streak flashed across Gilgamesh¡¯s eyes as Corvus was finally upright and pushing harder than ever.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Gilgamesh said, curiously. There was no command in his voice, but pure intrigue. Corvus was cautious but stopped their fight. Gilgamesh took Corvus¡¯ chin in his hand and examined his eyes.


    There was a look in his eye that was gone in an instant. A large smile began to spread over Gilgamesh¡¯s face slowly. He began to chuckle, then laugh, then fall on the ground holding his sides from his hollering laughter. Corvus had no idea what was going on and was struggling to wrap his head around the sudden change of emotions.


    ¡®Huh. D¨¦j¨¤ vu.¡¯ Corvus thought.


    Gilgamesh was writhing on the ground, trying to stop himself from laughing, banging his fist against the floor, creating echoes through the void. He gasped for breath, a stupidly happy smile plastered on his face as he filled his lungs over and over again. His eyes were glowing bright silver.


    ¡°Having fun are you?¡± Corvus raised his eyebrow at the curiously elated Demi-god.


    Gilgamesh raised his hand, getting to his feet to try to compose his fits of laughter.


    ¡°You have my apologies.¡± Gilgamesh bowed his head in mock apology, his knowing smile growing ever-broader. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you some of what I know.¡±


    Corvus was lost for words for at least a minute, trying to think how someone as narcissistic and selfish as Gilgamesh was even pretending to be nice. Eventually, he figured out what to ask.


    ¡°Well¡­why were you so angry at me?¡± Corvus crossed his arms.


    The smile faded from Gilgamesh¡¯s face, the shining silver of his eyes becoming dark and stormy. He extended his hand, pointing at Corvus¡¯ arm.


    ¡°Your right hand. Look at it.¡± Gilgamesh turned his gaze away slightly.


    Corvus raised his eyebrow and uncrossed his arms. His eyes widened in horror.


    His hand, from his swallow bracelet down, was charred to a sickening black colour, with cracks of purple over the surface. His skin was twisted and stiff, creating cracks that spewed violet light upon the touch. The occasional whiff of fire leapt out of the light, bringing small hissing sounds with them.


    He turned his hand over, his palm creased and broken with large lines of violet fire etched in where he held his dagger. His eyes met his swallow bracelet. It was glowing with a faint golden sheen, with a slight aura of writhing purples, itching to move up his arm.


    Corvus had several questions.


    ¡°What kind of burn is this?¡± Corvus asked, curious and cautious.


    ¡°A bad one. A very bad one.¡± Gilgamesh said, his eyes a stormy dark grey.


    ¡°Was it the bear?¡±


    ¡°That and your insistence on continuing to hold that dagger.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t I just cut off my arm if it¡¯s that bad?¡± Corvus asked, wrapping his left hand around his shoulder, ready to rip it off.


    Gilgamesh shook his head.


    ¡°Bad idea. If you¡¯ll resist your temptation for mutilation for a few minutes, I¡¯ll explain.¡± Gilgamesh pointed to the ground indicating for them to sit.


    Corvus let go of his arm and sat down, careful not to further damage his hand.


    ¡°So it¡¯s not just a burn? It¡¯s magic, yes, but why can¡¯t I just regrow my arm?¡± Corvus asked, leaning on his left arm as he sat cross-legged.


    ¡°Because it wasn¡¯t just fire. It was a Hex, a nature spell, the kind shamans use.¡± Gilgamesh began.


    ¡°Magic is magic. Get to the point.¡± Corvus yawned, the void dimming momentarily. Gilgamesh shot him an angry look before continuing.


    ¡°Putting a very long explanation about nature affinities and magic attunements short, you¡¯ve been cursed. Badly. The only reason you aren¡¯t dead is that bracelet of yours. If it was anything besides the Enchantment effect, you¡¯d be a corpse. It absorbed and re-directed the majority of the spell back to the bear when you roasted it, but when it burnt your hand, some of the curse came with it.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°Normally, you¡¯d have a week or so to live. But that bracelet of yours is absorbing and redirecting the spreading curse and layering it over your hand again and again. Essentially, your hand has been cursed so much that it could probably cause irreparable damage from a brushing touch, and likely kill with a prolonged grab. With a bit of training, you might even be able to create and use those purple flames.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s a good thing that I got burnt? I get magic.¡± Corvus mused, looking down at his cracking hand with new appreciation.


    ¡°No. Not even close.¡± Gilgamesh spoke authoritatively, as a emperor would to a misbehaving noble. He motioned to the blackened scar on the void. ¡°That curse has become so powerful, that your soul has been permanently damaged. If you try and channel any death magic through it, you''ll probably die. If you remove your bracelet, you will die. If you lose your arm, it will grow back with the same curse and if you don¡¯t have the bracelet, you''ll die.¡±


    Gilgamesh¡¯s words hung in the air. The threat of death had been an afterthought to Corvus after Gill had taken that pistol to his head, but now it seemed a close and a very real threat.


    ¡°Is there any way to cure it?¡± Corvus said quietly.


    Gilgamesh shook his head, his eyes a sad black.


    Corvus lowered his head, the reality of mortality sinking in. The silence hung for what seemed like hours. It was only broken when Gilgamesh made a little gasp. Corvus looked up, confused by the sudden noise and even more confused when he saw the determined and proud face he held on his face.


    ¡°It¡¯s mine.¡± Gilgamesh beamed with self-congratulatory smugness.


    ¡°No, the curse is mine, you said so yourself.¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow at Gilgamesh, as if he had said something incredibly stupid.


    ¡°Not the curse, you blithering idiot! The bracelet!¡± Gilgamesh snapped, like a child who had been scolded.


    ¡°So you¡¯ve said. How does that help?¡± Corvus was still unconvinced by Gilgamesh¡¯s excitement.


    Gilgamesh slapped his palm against his forehead and muttering something in a language he couldn¡¯t understand, though it probably wasn''t polite.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you understand? It was my armour, so it will still respond to my magic!¡± Gilgamesh seemed to be trying very hard to sound calm instead of childish.


    ¡°Again, how does that help?¡± Corvus sighed, but he was admittedly curious about where this was going.


    Gilgamesh breathed, trying to compose himself.


    ¡°It helps because I had more spells than the entire world combined, and one of them allowed me to turn objects into writing. Essentially, it was solid translation. If you could learn it, you could use it to tattoo the bracelet into your skin, the same way that Cleo did with her tattoos. If you did it right, it would be etched into your soul in the same way as the curse.¡±


    ¡°So¡­I could cure the curse?¡± Corvus¡¯ eyes widened in realisation.


    ¡°Even better. You could seal it. Use the curse.¡± Gilgamesh¡¯s crazed smile returned as the gears in his mind span faster and faster. ¡°The Enchantment will be burned into your soul, permanently keeping the curse at bay. You¡¯d lose the powers of the bracelet, yes, but you would be able to use a hex, and maybe even use more if you learn to absorb Nature magic.


    ¡°Your right hand could curse people on demand with almost no threat to your life. You should avoid touching your skin without some kind of reason though, can¡¯t be too careful. But other than that, it¡¯s perfect!¡±


    Gilgamesh was positively giddy at this prospect, which was mildly entertaining to Corvus. One thought was preventing him from joining the fun though.


    ¡°What about my anchor? If I can¡¯t use death magic through my hand, will I lose it?¡±


    Gilgamesh shook his head happily.


    ¡°You never summoned it into your hand, but wherever you wanted it. You can use it without issue. Be careful though. I would avoid using your bracelet at all costs. It¡¯s already busy enough with that curse. That, and you could still damage your hand by using it without a gauntlet of some kind.¡± Gilgamesh¡¯s brow furrowed as he ran through each problem one by one.


    Corvus thought of one.


    ¡°But¡­isn''t learning your magic impossible?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow that Gilgamesh brushed aside.


    ¡°Nonsense! I taught it to some of my first reincarnations before the life and death wars broke out. Granted, you need a strong connection to Primal magic, but that will be an easy problem to solve.¡± Gilgamesh spoke proudly.


    ¡°So now I have to follow Cleo to her home, learn about the wielders of death, become one, fight off priests, learn death magic, be tutored into learning almost impossible to learn magic, sacrifice one of my strongest relics and then learn how to not kill myself, all while not hurting my hand?¡±


    Gilgamesh nodded.


    ¡°Well¡­Should be fun.¡± Corvus stood up, ready to awaken back into the hell of his life.


    The caw of a crow caught his attention and he turned around. There was nothing. No crow, no Gilgamesh, no void.


    He gasped, opening his eyes to the twilight above his head. A small black beak came into view, two small black beady eyes followed, staring down. The crow poked his cheek and chirped quietly. Corvus lifted his head and poked the crow with his nose. It squawked and hopped away, swishing Corvus with its tail. Corvus sat up and looked down at his right hand. It was carefully wrapped in bandages with his leather bracer still strapped to his wrist.


    A flicker of feeling shot through the void in his heart but was gone before it was noticed.


    He heard footsteps coming towards him, and reached for Raven. She wasn¡¯t there. His knives weren¡¯t in his belt, in fact he had no belt. He had no weapons. His eyes widened and he readied himself to summon his anchor into his left hand. The steps came closer and closer.


    He saw a tall man wearing white armour with accents of red. He was shaking slightly, holding a short-sword in one hand and a large shield in the other. His armour was catching too much light. Corvus almost laughed at how little chance he had.


    He turned around and locked gaze with Corvus. Corvus waved.


    ¡°Evening.¡± Corvus bowed his head slightly.


    The man didn¡¯t move. He began to run towards Corvus but stopped abruptly. A figure darted behind him and forced a flash of steel through the back of his neck. He crumpled down to the ground with a thud and twitched several times before laying in perfect stillness. The figure stepped over the body and walked over to Corvus, knife still flashing.


    The figure held the knife to Corvus¡¯ throat and whispers in his ear.


    ¡°Wher¡¯s tha dough, buddy?¡± his voice sounded like a weasel.


    ¡°Right here.¡± Corvus whispered back.


    He grabbed the knife and shoved the weasel-like man backwards. He tripped over the armoured corpse and tried to scrabble to his feet. Corvus leapt to his feet and stormed forward. The man hopped up and stalked forward, knife in hand. Corvus adjusted the bandages on his right hand, careful not to touch the blackened skin beneath. The man hissed and rolled forward and stuck his knife in Corvus¡¯ belly.


    He chuckled to himself before Corvus grabbed his head and wrenched it back. His eyes flashed with terror before Corvus wrapped his right hand around the man¡¯s neck. He was initially fearful of being strangled, but soon realised the bigger danger was the violet flames that began spilling from his mouth and eyes. He would¡¯ve screamed but he was dead within seconds. He dropped the corpse to the floor and pulled the knife from his stomach and cleaned it on the man¡¯s dark clothes.


    Corvus readjusted the bandages on the right hand, re-covering the cursed flesh beneath.


    ¡°Huh. You¡¯re awake. And been busy.¡± Cleo¡¯s voice called from behind him, with a mix of worry and a chuckle.


    Corvus turned around quickly, but relaxed when he realised it was Cleo.


    ¡°You¡¯re as quiet as ever. What¡¯s been happening while I¡¯ve been sleeping?¡±


    ¡°Oh you know¡­¡± Cleo shrugged, poking the corpses with her foot and cleaning the head of her spear. ¡°Stuff.¡±


    Corvus assessed the surroundings. They were out of the forest and in hilly grasslands now. Corvus made an impressed whistle.


    ¡°We¡¯ve come a long way.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not that heavy you know.¡± Cleo sat down beside where Corvus was sleeping and took a swig of water from her flask. She unbuckled a belt from around her waist and threw it towards Corvus. He caught it and realised it was his.


    ¡°Sorry. Lost a few of your knives. Your dagger didn''t last long after that fire.¡± She admitted, poking the ground with the tip of her spear.


    ¡°No worries.¡± Corvus pulled Raven from her holster and looked at himself in her barrels. ¡°How long was I out?¡±


    ¡°Three days.¡± She stabbed her spear down, lifting it back up with a small wooden panel that covered a small box with Corvus¡¯ pack in it, which she tossed over as well.


    Corvus caught it and looked down at himself. His armoured shirt was fully repaired and buttoned around him, and his jacket was folded neatly in his pack. He glanced down to his bandaged hand and sighed, drawing one of the knives from his belt.


    ¡°And it was finally repaired.¡± He sighed sadly. He glanced over to Cleo¡¯s confused face. ¡°Thank you for that by the way.¡±


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± She lowered her flask and looked on carefully.


    Corvus pointed to the armoured corpse that laid a few feet from them.


    ¡°Need a new glove. I need a different sized hand for that one.¡± Corvus shrugged, removing his shirt.


    Corvus cut his shirt into several ribbons and removed the long, thin strips of chainmail from the cotton. He pulled the rings open and shut them on the side of his bracer, wrapping the chains around his arm to fix it in place. He did the same to his hand for a bit of extra bulk and protection. He took the strips of clothing and wrapped them around his whole forearm, completing the ensemble.


    He walked over to the armoured body and unstrapped the gauntlet. He had pale, white skin and there were flashes of silver hair from beneath his helmet.


    ¡®He was from the south, huh?¡¯ Corvus thought absently.


    He slowly moved his hand into the shiny, white and red gauntlet and moved his hand to try to make it comfortable. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it would do for some level of protection in the short term. He glanced over to Cleo, who was watching curiously.


    Corvus shrugged to her and she chuckled, offering him her flask of water.


    ¡°Cheers.¡± He said, taking a swig and passing it back. ¡°Go on. I¡¯ll keep watch tonight, you deserve a rest.¡± He motioned to the nearby bodies. ¡°I¡¯ll move them somewhere the crows can get a bite.¡±


    Cleo smiled back and nodded. She lied down on the ground, looking up to the sunset. Corvus picked up the small man and looked up to the sky. He sighed, glancing to what remained of the man''s head, then down to his now-armoured hand.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope I can make it there.¡±

 Chapter 13: Clearing Migration

    Corvus spent the night hauling the bodies away, readjusting his jacket (again) and finally sitting beside a sleeping Cleo, staring at his hand and thinking. Gilgamesh was restless as always, but more talkative than ever before.


    ¡°We shouldn''t just be sitting still. This is the perfect chance to get a head start on learning my magic. Just leave her to sleep and lets find somewhere quiet. I¡¯ll run you through the basics and your curse will be under control and sealed in no time!¡± He whined, pacing the small clearing that they inhabited.


    The vast, dark expanses of the grasslands spread out behind him. Tiny blurs of movement constantly flickered back and forth, whether it was the breeze or something less friendly, Corvus didn¡¯t guess. Gilgamesh waved his hand in front of Corvus¡¯ face.


    ¡°Are you even listening to me, boy?¡±. Gilgamesh sounded incredibly offended, the black in his eyes blended in with the night sky behind him.


    Corvus nodded, not wanting to wake Cleo by talking. Gilgamesh looked at her and scoffed.


    ¡°Just because she looked after you for so long doesn¡¯t mean that you owe her anything.¡±


    Gilgamesh complained, dramatically falling on to the ground and rolling in boredom.


    Corvus didn¡¯t agree with that. Everything she¡¯d done for him, all the ways that she had saved him and taught him who and what he was. He owed her more than he had to give. A whole spectrum of feelings shot through the void that was his chest, this time staying long enough for Corvus to feel them.


    His hand clutched his chest as the sudden burst of humanity made him slightly dizzy. He remembered feelings. The flashes of memories that came to him also came with the feelings that went with them. But even if he could remember them, he still felt nothing. It would get unbearable at points, but that was the worst part. No matter how unbearable it was, it didn¡¯t hurt, or feel, or desire.


    A flap of wings snapped Corvus out of his thoughts as a crow landed on his shoulder. He looked over to it and it looked back. Its black, beady eyes stared into his. He felt a connection, but not the kind that friends feel, or lovers, or family. It was mysterious, tricky but warm.


    Corvus reached out his hand and softly ran his fingers over its black and stiff feathers that were comforting to the touch, the same way that his anchor calmed him, except warmer. Alive. It gently rubbed its beak against Corvus¡¯ nose while learning into his hand.


    A dull, almost invisible ghost of a smile flashed across Corvus¡¯ face as the crow chirped at him quietly. It shook its feathers, getting free from Corvus¡¯ petting. It spread its wings and flew back to wherever it had been hiding before.


    Gilgamesh was watching all the while, an unreadable smirk on his face. He slapped his legs and stood up.


    ¡°Well, now that your bonding session is over, I might as well tell you the basics of what you''ll need to know when we seal that curse of yours. This will take absolute perfection to perform. Anything less, and you''ll die. It will be rigorous, difficult and painful.¡± Gilgamesh warned, sitting down in front of Corvus.


    ¡°Can''t be any worse than listening to your rants about how perfect you were.¡± Corvus shrugged, turning back to face him.


    Gilgamesh¡¯s eyes darkened slightly but he composed himself before he spoke again.


    ¡°There is far too much to tell about everything I could do. I could, but then this would take centuries instead of months. To learn how to seal that curse of yours, you will need to know several other steps before that.¡± He passed his hand through a blade of grass absently.


    ¡°This isn''t going to be another long spiel about how magic works is it? I¡¯ve heard too much about recently.¡± Corvus whispered quietly.


    Gilgamesh scowled and continued as if he¡¯d heard nothing.


    ¡°My soul is unique in how it functions. When Primal magic flows through it, it turns Gold. This is how I used so many uniquely powerful spells, and how you will seal your curse. Put simply, once you get close enough to my soul by connecting with your past lives, you will be able to turn Primal magic Gold. When you can do this, you can take command of that bracelet and permanently engrave it onto your soul so that the curse is kept in check.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°This will make you immune to that curse, as well as be able to summon and create that bracelet at will. However,¡±. He motioned towards Corvus¡¯ gauntlet. ¡°You could always change that bracelet into armour if you really want to. I don''t see why you would though. Much less fashionable.¡± Gilgamesh complained, going off an a tangent about how war needn¡¯t be ugly.


    Corvus raised his gaze, slightly confused.


    ¡°Wait. That¡¯s it?¡± Corvus tilted his head.


    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s it.¡± Gilgamesh tilted his head in return, confused by the confusion.


    ¡°Oh¡­I thought there was more to do. I guess it won¡¯t be as difficult as I thought.¡± Corvus sighed in a small relief.


    ¡°Speaking of which.¡± Gilgamesh sat up straighter, taking a commanding tone. ¡°You should avoid using that incredible strength of yours.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡± Corvus quietly complained, looking over to Cleo to see if she was still sleeping. She had turned over but her stomach was still rising and falling gently.


    ¡°You destroy your body every time you use it. If you want to survive, better to avoid tearing yourself to pieces over and over again.¡± Gilgamesh raised his eyebrow, his tone of finality was powerful.


    ¡°Especially that arm of yours.¡±


    ¡°Fair point.¡± Corvus shrugged. ¡°Good thing I''ve got a gun then.¡±


    ¡°I recommend using it a lot more than you have been. You can never be too careful until you¡¯ve sealed it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah yeah. Keep my distance, I got it. Keep the curse safe and secret and don¡¯t die.¡± Corvus muttered, beginning to stand up to keep a better watch.


    ¡°You''re cursed?¡± A voice spoke quietly behind him.


    Corvus span round in surprise, seeing Cleo sitting upright with her arms crossed. Her red-black skin made her almost invisible in the gloom, but her emerald eyes glinted with worry in the dark.


    ¡°Stop doing that!¡± Corvus complained.


    ¡°How do you know you¡¯re cursed?¡± Her voices was thick with worry.


    ¡°What did you think I was doing for those three days? Sleeping peacefully?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Cleo stood up and began walking over to inspect his hand. Corvus extended his arm to stop her before she reached him.


    ¡°First of all, you should be asleep. Second, don¡¯t worry. I can sort it out if given a few months.


    Though I can¡¯t take off the bracelet until then.¡± Corvus spoke quickly and calmly, trying to put her at ease. It didn¡¯t really work.


    ¡°Sort it out? It¡¯s a curse, not an untidy house! Show me. Now.¡± She was clearly angry, so Corvus needed to pacify her before she accidentally touched his hand.


    ¡°Ok, ok. Just don¡¯t touch it.¡± Corvus held up his hands in surrender. Cleo nodded.


    He undid the clasps on the shining gauntlet, placing it on the ground. He began to unwind the long strips of former-shirt, then loosen the strips of chain mail. Cleo was staring intently all the while, looking for signs of change. The bandages that were covering his hand were singed and almost black. Careful not to move his bracer, Corvus unwound the ashen bandage that seemed to be minutes from crumbling.


    Cleo¡¯s eyes widened when she saw the charred skin and the wisps of purple smoke and fire that rose from the twisted masses of blackened skin. She reflexively reached out her hand to touch it, but Corvus pulled away before she could get close. She caught herself and pulled her hand back, as Corvus began wrapping the stiff bandages back up.


    ¡°Will-o-Wisp.¡± She whispered to herself in quiet horror.


    ¡°Will-o-What?¡± Corvus asked, re-fixing the chain mail.


    ¡°It¡¯s the name of that hex. Will-o-Wisp. Natural fire created with Nature magic. It¡¯s a rare hex, powerful too. If it hadn¡¯t cursed you, you would have probably wanted to learn it.¡± She spoke quietly, looking everywhere but Corvus¡¯ eyes.


    ¡°Once I¡¯ve got the curse under control, I¡¯ll learn how to use it. Other hexes too if I can.¡± Corvus re-fitted the gauntlet, flexing his hand beneath it.


    ¡°Are you sure? Nature magic is almost infamous for its danger and unpredictability. It¡¯s different for everyone, hell, it could kill you if you¡¯ve been cursed by it!¡± She looked at him like he was stupid, which he might¡¯ve been.


    ¡°Don''t you remember?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°I can survive anything.¡±


    Cleo was lost for words for a while before she burst out laughing.


    ¡°I forgot how self-assured you were.¡± She chuckled, sitting back down. ¡°So. Who were you talking to?¡±


    ¡°I told you, moron.¡± Gilgamesh called from his bed of tangled grass.


    ¡°Myself. I think. There were a lot of voices in my head once, and I met one while I was under.


    Helped me to stay alive these past few weeks.¡± Corvus didn¡¯t technically lie, but nothing he said was completely true. Gilgamesh approved.


    ¡°Huh. You really are an enigma aren''t you?¡± She smiled wryly, but not maliciously. ¡°Go on. We¡¯re just over a week away from home. Don''t want to hold up our hike do you?¡± She chuckled, sitting back down and holding her spear over her lap. Corvus knew that she would take the watch tonight.


    ¡°Nope. You really need to sleep more than me you know.¡± Corvus sat down, laying Raven on his lap in the same way that she did with her spear.


    She smirked, before lowering her head and into her meditative sleep, while Corvus just sat there, trying to imitate her impressive meditation. He only managed a mix between a shallow sleep and going cross eyed for hours on end.


    It was going to be a really long night if he kept doing that. So he decided to sleep instead. He vaguely heard Gilgamesh chuckling at his lack of patience before he fell into the clutches of sleep once more.

 Chapter 14: Painful Arrival

    Corvus¡¯ sleep was deep and fast, passing in an instant. He awoke with the dawn sun shining down and Cleo already awake and ready to go. They set off shortly after, still chewing on the salted rations of the knight that so generously donated his gauntlet to Corvus. Cleo was counting the few coins that the thief had, storing his knife in one of her many concealed knife sheathes.


    According to Cleo, the King¡¯s knights often use a road that was fairly close to their alternative route to transport rations and replacement arms and armour for their northern outposts. It was also a common haven for bandits and thieves looking for a quick fix of crime by ransacking the merchants that were traveling north.


    ¡°You seem to know your way around the law.¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow at her as he hopped over a small stream hidden by the long grass.


    ¡°I had a past too, you know.¡± She shrugged, not meeting his gaze.


    ¡°What was it like?¡± Corvus glanced at her. He instantly regretted asking from the dark shadows that played under her eyes.


    ¡°Hard.¡± Her tone was final and steeped in anguish.


    ¡°Fair enough. I suppose the law is strict in Cindrea. Why did you leave?¡±


    ¡°Exactly as you said. The law is strict.¡± Her green eyes were stormy.


    Corvus realised that if he wanted to stay alive for long enough to take his next breath, he should probably not keep pressing something she¡¯s clearly not comfortable with. He looked straight forward and chose not to look in her direction to avoid another stern talking to.


    ¡®I seem to be a magnet for lectures. And torn clothes for that matter.¡¯ Corvus mused as he fell into a lazy pattern of footsteps. Cleo sighed beside him, a tone of defeat in her voice.


    ¡°I guess this is a better time than any.¡± Her voice was almost sad.


    ¡°What is?¡± Corvus turned and locked his gaze with hers. Her green eyes were usually guarded and wary of her surroundings, even when she was explaining magic or chuckling at Corvus¡¯ strange mannerisms. But now they weren''t. They were unfocused, tired, even vulnerable. It was such a surprise that Corvus stopped in his tracks and stared, wide eyed.


    ¡°What¡¯s that look for?¡± She raised an eyebrow at him, a spark of her usual fire returning.


    ¡°Sorry. You almost looked normal for a moment so I got surprised.¡± Corvus bowed a small apology.


    Cleo chuckled slightly, some heart returning to her voice.


    ¡°Like you can talk. I¡¯m not even sure you¡¯re human!¡± She laughed behind her hand. She removed her hand and her face went serious again, but her eyes were hers again. ¡°Listen. There are a few things I need you to know before we arrive at my home.¡±


    ¡°Unfriendly cat? Wait, no. That¡¯s your tiger.¡± Corvus scratched his head trying to think of things that he would need warned about.


    ¡°N-no. I need to tell you about¡ª¡±. She began, stumbling over her words in her confusion about where the conversation was going.


    ¡°Maybe a guard dog? No, that doesn¡¯t fit.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°Controlling parents?¡±


    ¡°Let me¡ª¡±


    ¡°Familial issues?¡±


    ¡°Stop interrupting¡ª¡±


    ¡°Embarrassing siblings?¡±


    ¡°Corvus¡ª¡±


    ¡°Secret inter-family relationship?¡±


    ¡°CORVUS!¡± Her face was bright with either embarrassment or irritation, Corvus couldn¡¯t tell.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Corvus asked, tilting his head.


    ¡°Stop. Interrupting. Me.¡± She spoke slowly and surely, like a scolding mother.


    Corvus nodded, giving a thumbs up.


    Cleo breathed, composing herself for the speech that she was about to make before Corvus¡¯ spiel about unrealistic home issues.


    ¡°When we get there, you¡¯ll get a room to yourself and then meet the others who are there to learn, the same as you. They¡¯re all 18 or there about, so you¡¯ll be the youngest. You¡¯ll want to get to know them, they¡¯re going to be the only real friends you¡¯ve got. If they provoke you into a fight or to do something that would cause trouble, say no. It¡¯s not worth the hassle.


    ¡°You¡¯ll want to keep in your class, don¡¯t try to meld with the older years or the instructors. That includes me. Speaking of which,¡± She looked around, as if nervous about being overheard. ¡°Do not, and I mean Do Not act like we know each other any better than acquaintances. If you see me, don¡¯t wave, don¡¯t say hello, just nod and move on, same with the rest of the instructors and other classes.¡± Her voice was hard and certain.


    Corvus could only stare. Why would she ask something like that? What exactly would happen to them if he acted friendly with her? What exactly was he going into?


    ¡°What¡ª¡± Corvus began asking the first of his many questions.


    ¡°Just, please.¡± Cleo interrupted him, holding up her hand and lowering her eyes. Corvus could¡¯ve sworn that he heard her voice quivering, but from the hard look on her face made that impossible for him to believe. ¡°Just¡­promise me. Promise that you¡¯ll stay out of trouble and, if push comes to shove, protect your friends and forget about me.¡± Her gaze was dark.


    ¡°Nope.¡± Corvus spoke without thinking.


    ¡°What?¡± Cleo¡¯s eyes glinted with angry surprise. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I can promise to do everything you said, but I¡¯ll never promise to leave you behind.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t always have a choice!¡± Her dark skin was burning with forced anger.


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll come back.¡± Corvus kept his steely eyes level and measured, trying to diffuse her anger.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°Why? Why do you always have to be so difficult?¡± Her voice was shaky and she turned her eyes away to take a few deep breaths. Corvus extended his hand, taking her by surprise.


    ¡°What?¡± She asked through reddening eyes.


    ¡°I can agree to making friends. I can agree to protecting them. I can even agree to treating you like someone I don¡¯t know. But don¡¯t you dare make you the exception.¡± Corvus was almost surprised by his own words. He didn¡¯t know where the deep echoes of anger came from, but they came hard and strong. The emptiness in his heart was momentarily filled by something. Something warm.


    ¡°We¡¯re friends after all.¡± Corvus declared, a flicker of a smile ghosting his lips.


    Cleo stood perfectly still, eyes wide and almost teary. She burst into laughter, wiping the tears from her eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever understand you, Corvus.¡± She chuckled, taking his hand and shaking it, sealing their deal.


    They stood still for a moment, revelling in their friendship. Corvus broke that atmosphere, albeit un-intentionally.


    ¡°I never did get an answer about why you cry so much.¡± Corvus said to himself.


    Cleo dropped her hand, blushing slightly and lightly slapping Corvus on the top of the head. There was no malice behind it but there was a warning not to quiz her about it again.


    She started walking again, teasingly pushing past Corvus. He raised an eyebrow and followed her.


    They were a few feet away from a gmail grassy hill that obscured the horizon. They started walking up, and it was a lot steeper than it had first looked. It turned from a small incline into a near vertical surface in seconds. Corvus was confused but began scaling the hill.


    He kept getting further and further from the top, the getting steeper and steeper, eventually so much that Corvus was hanging upside down above the sky. The top of the hill seemed miles and miles away and only got further with each step. Each step forward felt like hours, the sun constantly beating down on him from above, but never moving. The loose grass provided solid, if not exactly confidant handholds to continue.


    A thought crossed Corvus¡¯ mind. He looked around, but Cleo was nowhere to be found.


    ¡®Oh. That¡¯s not good.¡¯ Corvus raised an eyebrow at the ground that he was hanging from. He glanced around, looking for something to give him a clue as to what the hell was going on. There was nothing he could see that told him much. He pulled at the loose pieces of grass that he was hanging from. They didn¡¯t seem as loose as they looked. Corvus pulled a knife from his belt and tried to cut one free. It didn¡¯t even mark the surface.


    Corvus put two and two together and re-sheathed the knife. He wasn¡¯t climbing up a reverse mountain or an inverted hill at all. It was an illusion.


    ¡°Only one thing for it.¡± Corvus sighed.


    He let go, plummeting towards the sky.


    Seconds later, he was flat on his back on the top of the hill. Cleo came into view, looking down on him with a slightly surprised but teasing grin.


    ¡°Not bad. Thought I might have to wake you up.¡± She chuckled, offering him a hand.


    ¡°Really? How long was I¡­climbing, I guess?¡± Corvus took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled upwards.


    ¡°Just about an hour. Most people take two on their first time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s a defence? Or is it just a joke?¡±


    Cleo shrugged.


    ¡°A bit of both, to be honest.¡± She turned around, and her expression fell slightly. ¡°Look. We¡¯re here.¡±


    Corvus followed her gaze, expecting to see a small house or a town maybe. Instead, is was a giant, dark forest full of thorns and twisted, black trunks. The vines that spanned the close-knit trees were withered and suffocated by the dank air that breathed out of the gaps like plumes of ash.


    There were several paths that Corvus could spot, each with its own string of black lettering hanging loosely in the air. They all had small symbols hidden beneath them, whirring expectedly, as if itching to be used.


    ¡°That¡¯s not ominous at all.¡± Corvus noted, glancing at Cleo.


    ¡°I do believe that¡¯s the point.¡± Cleo sighed, walking towards the closest entrance.


    Corvus followed closely behind her, squinting at the letters that hung over the entrance. He couldn¡¯t make it out exactly, but he caught something about icicles, bolts of lightning and a very painful death. He glanced over at Cleo, who was making an irritated face and muttering about too many defences and how they were a pain.


    She changed direction, walking towards one of the many solid barriers of thorns and vines. She started writing a sentence of inky black letters, taking a few seconds to think of which one to write next. After several seconds of careful consideration, she sent the completed sentence floating towards the spiny black trees. They seeped into the bark, blowing the layer of crust from the old plants.


    They began to contort and writhe, as if trying to escape the magical sentence. It turns out they were. A small, spiny tunnel had formed in the impassable wall, no larger than 3 feet across. Cleo glanced back to Corvus and raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Hope you don¡¯t mind a bit of crawling.¡±


    Corvus glanced down to his gauntleted hand, hesitant, but nodded to her all the same. She reached into her small pack and pulled out a pair of thick leather gloves. After she had put them on, she pulled her pack off and threw it into the tunnel and climbed in after it. After a few seconds,


    Corvus undid his own and threw it in as well. He took a breath and climbed in after her.


    It was a difficult crawl with uneven floors, tight corners, spines and gaps every other foot. The worse part though, was the dark. The entrance had sealed up moments after Corvus had crawled in, plunging both him and Cleo into an abyssal black.


    There was no way to get lost, but there was no way to know how far they¡¯d come and how far was left. There was no conversation between them, and no sound other than the occasional curse from Cleo spiking herself on a thorn and Corvus making a complaint about her language. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, it could have been days.


    Corvus was snapped out of his boredom when he heard Cleo thump to the ground at the end of the tunnel. He crawled faster and it finally widened into something that didn¡¯t feel as claustrophobic as a ship¡¯s hold filled with barrels of water. He kept hold of his pack and swung his legs over the edge of the dark tunnel and let himself fall. He reached the ground several feet below him, landing in a pile of broken twigs.


    Cleo was brushing the thorn tips from her gear and smiled at him.


    ¡°Fun, right?¡± She shrugged a small apology.


    Corvus wasn¡¯t paying attention. His eyes were fixed on the gentle, flashing green lights that fluttered around them, illuminating their path forward. He held up his left hand and one sailed down slowly to his finger. At first Corvus thought it was a beetle, but its face looked like more feline than anything. It even had fur and a tail.


    ¡°You like them? They¡¯re called felias.¡± Cleo smiled at them.


    It made an almost inaudible purr before taking flight again, joining the rest of the dancing lights.


    Cleo led the way forward, following the trail of green lights and occasionally petting one that landed on her shoulder. Corvus was fascinated by the path of black trees and green lights, not even looking where he was going.


    Cleo held up her arm to stop him. He looked at her, slightly confused, before he looked ahead of himself and saw the ruined town. There were maybe ten buildings still half standing, many more that weren¡¯t. In the centre of it, there was a white, shining willow tree that looked as if it would snap at the slightest touch. Cleo glanced at Corvus apologetically.


    ¡°Hold on, I need a minute or two.¡± She sat on the ground, cross legged, taking deep breaths. Every breath she took, some tension left her body and her face changed slightly. Not to the point that she looked like a different person, but just enough to realise that there was obviously someone else at the reigns. When she opened her eyes though, Corvus could tell it was still her, but different.


    ¡°Lets go.¡± Her voice was less cheerful, harder, serious. She walked forward with purpose that anyone would flinch from. Corvus followed her, finding that she was harder t keep up with than before. Harder. Harder.


    Only then did Corvus notice that it wasn¡¯t her that was walking fast, but him that was walking slow. He had no strength. His legs were shaking beneath him. His right hand felt as if it was pulling him down. He collapsed, right hand clutched to his chest. Purple smoke billowed out from under the gauntlet, and the metal started to blacken. The felias in the air started buzzing frantically, hissing at him.


    His breaths became gasps as his hand burst into violet flames for a moment before pulling itself to the ground. He looked around for something to stop the fire, something to stop the weakness. Cleo was running towards him. His vision darkened, the world blurred and he fell backwards, staring at the dark canopy. His eyes met those of a perching crow, its black eyes staring into his.


    Corvus used the last of his strength to raise his left hand to the crow, begging for relief. The crow tilted its head. It opened its mouth, but no caw followed, instead a voice.


    ¡°Sleep, child.¡±


    The world left Corvus and he vanished into the abyss of deep sleep.

 Chapter 15: Unfamiliar Nesting

    When Corvus opened his eyes, he was immediately on guard. From the beds and the size of the cupboards that dotted the large room, he guessed he was in the infirmary of somewhere. There was a curious absence in the room, as if there was something important missing that he couldn¡¯t quite place.


    The room was made almost exclusively out of black stone, dark woods and vines, lit by warm, green lanterns and small cloth bags hung from the ceilings with the low buzz and purr of felias, giving the room a warm, but eerie green glow. All the beds were empty except his and one that was opposite the only door in the room. Corvus ripped the covers off and inspected his right arm.


    He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that he was still wearing his bracelet, but made a gasp of terror immediately afterwards. His gauntlet was missing, there were patches of soot from where the bandages were, the chainmail had left more scorch marks on his charred skin. The place where his bracer had been was a patch of black charcoal.


    He looked to his body. He was no longer wearing his belt, his pack or anything he was before. Raven was gone and he was barefoot. He was wearing loose wool night-clothes that blended in well with the white of the bed. The right arm of the shirt had been roughly cut off to avoid the black mess that was his hand.


    Irritated, Corvus swept the charcoal from his arm. It wouldn''t move. He tried again, but it stayed.


    He tilted his head at his arm, looking at it more closely. The patch of charcoal sparked with a small purple light. Corvus¡¯ eyes widened as he realised what had happened.


    The Curse had spread up his arm. Not by much, but it was definitely larger. It was maybe two inches up his forearm, past the bracelet. His eyes widened in terror as he frantically moved to pull the bracelet to the top of the curse to try and stop in spreading any further.


    It was hard to make, as the bracelet seemed to be stuck to his charred wrist. He gritted his teeth, trying to move the bracelet carefully and not touch his sin at the same time. Several minutes of careful near-misses, the bracelet was finally at the top of the curse again, albeit with a few gaps of skin, but that was mostly accidental.


    His skin was just as ugly and twisted as before, but there was something different. The purple fire was less intense, as if it were sleeping.


    ¡°Starved, actually.¡± Gilgamesh¡¯s soothing voice echoed through the infirmary. Corvus looked up and saw him lounging on one of the empty beds. He was visibly tired and much more irritable than before. Corvus stood up to confront him.


    ¡°Where the hell have you been?¡± Corvus didn¡¯t care about the consequences of talking to him while there might be people listening, but he felt definite pangs of rage echo through his heart. He took a few steps forward to get closer.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Gilgamesh held up his hand, his voice a curious mix of anger and panic.


    ¡°Why should I?¡± Corvus growled at him, taking another step.


    ¡°Look down!¡± Gilgamesh sounded like he was pleading. Corvus doubted that, but was curious anyway.


    He turned his eyes downward. He put his guard up immediately when he saw the black writing scored into the ground. It surrounded the area around his bed, and he was just at its edge. He knelt down to inspect the inscription. He couldn¡¯t read it fully, and what bits he could read made no sense to him, as if it was another language. He reached out his left hand and stroked the letters.


    They stayed stubbornly stuck to the ground.


    Curiosity flooded his mind and he extended his left hand out beyond the barrier. The hairs on his hand stood up, slammed by a wave of intangible force. It felt exactly as it did when he first set foot in the forest. Full of life and magic.


    He realised that this must be what he felt before. The absence of magic. He looked to his right hand, wondering if that was why it was so inactive. He slowly raised his cursed hand, reaching towards the edge of the circle.


    The tips of his fingers erupted in violet flames, creating a sharp flash of dark light. Corvus violently recoiled, the flames sputtering out as soon as they were back inside. Corvus only just realised that he was panting, gasping even. His right arm was shuddering, paralysed with unconscious terror. Droplets of sweat fell from Corvus¡¯ forehead and sizzled onto his arm.


    He looked towards the bracelet. The small gaps that he had left between the cursed flesh and his tanned skin had begun to wilt and burn with violet cinders.


    Gilgamesh sighed and stood up, wiping the tiredness from his eyes.


    ¡°That is where I have been.¡± Gilgamesh looked around the large room with a mix of nostalgia and worry. ¡°The Nature magic in this forest is incredibly concentrated. It took everything I had to keep it from flaring up more than it did. It''s quite marvellous how they can create a zone completely absent of nature magic, don''t you think?"


    ¡°I need to leave then.¡± Corvus¡¯ voice was still shaky but he gave Gilgamesh a half-hearted shrug.


    ¡°You know that you wont. Everything leads to here. The first steps to sealing the curse, Death magic, Cleo¡¯s promise. It¡¯s all here, boy.¡± Gilgamesh spoke in a measured manner.


    Corvus looked him dead in the eye.


    ¡°When can I seal it? When, damn you?!¡± Corvus was shocked by his sudden outburst. He didn¡¯t feel anything, but he was certain of something. Wherever he went when he died, whatever it was that he saw and felt, he would do anything to never see it again.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye as the figure in the other taken bed began to write awake. It began to groggily sit up, still covered entirely in sheets. Corvus didn¡¯t have the chance to get back into his bed and pretend he was still sleeping before the figure turned its head in his direction.


    It straightened and threw the covers off itself. It was boy who looked no older than 15, with a tanned face and thin, sickly features. His head was slightly large, housing glinting blue eyes and a close-cut layer of grey hair. He reached for an oak stick that was lying beside his bed and stood up shakily. As he rounded his bed, Corvus realised that he had a slightly large and warped left foot with blue and navy symbols faintly etched into it.


    He hobbled across the room, eyeing Corvus with cautious excitement. Corvus sat on his bed, glancing towards the spot where Gilgamesh used to be, but now just an undisturbed bed. The boy¡¯s surprising athleticism intrigued Corvus, as he seemed to swing himself forward and landed with grace and speed. He made his way to the bed beside Corvus and sat down, a curious smile on his face.


    ¡°The sleeping cub has awoken to the dawn!¡± He raised his hands, as if preaching to a choir. His voice was surprisingly deep and refined, that of a stern yet kindly professor. Corvus almost frowned at the disconnect between his appearance and his voice. He looked like a boy but sounded like a sage.


    The boy/man noticed the change in expression and leant forward.


    ¡°What ails you? The unfamiliar location? Perhaps the unfamiliar face? Yes! That¡¯s it!¡± He spoke quickly but clearly.


    ¡°Well, for one there''s your voice, it doesn¡¯t match you.¡± Corvus shrugged, passively.


    The boy/man let out a hearty chuckle and lightly slapped his leg.


    ¡°Blunt and honest! I like you, lad! As for me, my name is Doctor Helsay Curos. Just Helsay is fine. What is your name, lad?¡± His eyes danced with cheerful, almost childish merriment.


    ¡°Corvus.¡± He extended his left hand in greeting.


    ¡°Corvus? Just Corvus? Curious¡­¡± He held his chin in thought. Several seconds passed of Corvus¡¯ hand hanging in air, waiting to complete the greeting.


    ¡°Oh! My apologies.¡± He stood up, limped forward a step or two and shook Corvus¡¯ hand, carefully eyeing his cursed hand all the while. ¡°A pleasure, sir Swallow.¡± He smiled wryly.


    ¡°Oh, that? Yeah, that isn¡¯t mine, but its keeping me alive.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    Helsay¡¯s face fell from happiness to wondrous horror.


    ¡°So it¡¯s true then? You have been cursed?¡±


    ¡°Afraid so.¡± Corvus shrugged slightly, clenching his blackened fist.


    ¡°My word!¡± Helsay jumped up as best he could and started what looked like a dance. He was singing in a language that probably made no sense to anyone. He nearly fell over himself trying to get closer to Corvus. He hobbled into the circle of black letters and tried to put his hands on Corvus¡¯ arm.


    Luckily for Corvus, his arms were longer than Helsay¡¯s, allowing him to stand perfectly still and keep the doctor at bay. Helsay was manic at this point.


    ¡°If you live then we can all live. We can use this. We can fight them back. We can win. We will win. Let me feel your arm!¡± His breaths were erratic, his eyes were wild and he was grabbing for Corvus¡¯ right hand. He slipped out of Corvus¡¯ grip, darting under his arm and throwing himself towards Corvus.


    Helsay¡¯s face was contorted into an unnatural grin, his teeth biting into his lips and tinting them with crimson blood. The only reason that Corvus didn¡¯t kill him then and there out of self-defence was his eyes. They were terrified, almost on the brink of tears. Though he looked like a maniac that didn¡¯t care about living, Corvus knew almost instantly that, deep down, he didn¡¯t want to die.


    ¡°Doctor Curos!¡± A booming voice shattered through the infirmary.


    The man immediately snapped out of his excitement and stood perfectly straight as 2 people opened the large, wooden doors, allowing a man dressed in elegant, chainmail-lined black robes. The green lights flickered to a stop, stealing the warmth from the infirmary.


    His face was wrinkled but set and steeled. He walked with purpose and confidence, but less grace and efficiency than Cleo. He looked to be around 6 foot tall with a broad frame without the muscles to fill it in, giving him a slightly contradictory physical appearance of size and frailty.


    His left eye sparkled with green intelligence, cold and calculating, directly opposed to his right eye that was a light, easing navy-blue that floated over the infirmary like a spotlight. His hair was well kept, stylish black and grey that could easily have passed him for a noble.


    His mis-matched eyes settled on Helsay. He strode forward, removing a tight satin glove from his left hand, revealing his own coiling black tattoos on his pale skin. Helsay raised his hands in cheery begging.


    ¡°Please, my lord. I just want to help us. I just want to touch¡ª¡±. Helsay began, hobbling towards the regal man.


    ¡°Shhhh.¡± The man reached out with his left hand, placing it on Helsay¡¯s shoulder, emitting an aura of dark energy that flowed into his eyes and mouth. Helsay immediately collapsed, a dead weight in the arms of the man. He deposited the doctor into the arms of one of his two guards, a woman, more muscle and size than anything else.


    She carried Helsay like a sleeping child over to the bed that he had awoken from earlier, placing him down gently and returning to receive his walking stick.


    ¡°My apologies, sir. That old fool doesn¡¯t always respect boundaries.¡± He chuckled a small apology, his contrasting eyes scanning Corvus¡¯ face. His voice wasn¡¯t as deep as Helsay¡¯s, but it held much more weight, as if he¡¯d practiced this.


    ¡°Is he dead?¡± Corvus looked over to Helsay¡¯s unmoving form.


    ¡°No no.¡± The man held up his left hand, admiring his tattoos. ¡°A sorcery of my own making. I was going to go with ¡°The Variable, Instantaneous Hypnotic Miasma¡±, but I¡¯ve found that "Blackout" rolls off the tongue much easier. In short, he¡¯s just asleep. You¡¯d be surprised to find out how many times I''ve had to use this on him while you were resting.¡± He smiled politely.


    ¡°How long?¡± Corvus was becoming rather tired of having to ask that question at this point.


    ¡°Several days. We have given you all the space for recovery that you required. Less than I would have liked, but the attack occupied some of our more skilled pairs of hands.¡± He smiled sadly.


    ¡°Attack? The knights or the priests I¡¯ve heard so much about were tracking us?¡± Corvus crossed his arms, contemplating this.


    ¡°Most likely you. Cleo is much too careful to be tracked. It is hardly your fault and I do not hold it against you, but there are several people that might be less than thankful for it.¡±


    ¡°Well tell them I¡¯m sorry but I really don¡¯t care.¡± Corvus sat down, getting slightly irritated with people. ¡°Who are you anyway?¡±


    The second of his two guards, a shorter man, half hidden beneath a long mop of dark brown hair, with a flail on his belt took an aggressive step forward but was stopped by the man raising his hand.


    ¡°How rude of me. My name is Lord Gregory Lias. Lord Gregory will suffice. And you are the mysterious Corvus I have heard so much of. A pleasure.¡± He extended his hand in greeting.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is.¡± Corvus eyed Gregory¡¯s gloved hand carefully, but shook it nonetheless. ¡°Now. Don¡¯t suppose you could tell me where the hell we are?¡±


    There was a flicker in Gregory¡¯s eyes but he blinked and it was gone instantly. He smiled warmly.


    ¡°Of course. It has been rather a rough journey for you I hear. I bid you a formal welcome to your new home and school of your heritage.¡±


    He threw his arms open wide.


    ¡°Welcome to the Halls of Desperius.¡±

 Chapter 16: Finding a Foothold

    ¡°What kind of name is Desperius?¡± Corvus crossed his arms at Gregory, who was still lost in his grandiose introduction.


    ¡°I know this is overwhelming but¡­excuse me?¡± Gregory¡¯s speech faltered, his expression turning to confusion. The two guards that had moved behind him, also shot up in shock. The large woman¡¯s face wrinkled with anger, her fists clenched around the handles of two brutal sickles on her belt. The shorter man¡¯s tanned cheeks flared up and he clutched the flail on his belt, stepping forward violently.


    Gregory hastily raised his hand, keen to prevent a fight. The two guards froze instantly. Corvus still hadn¡¯t flinched.


    ¡°From the shape of this place, its either a church, a castle or a tomb. And as far as I know, there has never been a religion, fort or family with a name as ridiculous and eccentric as Desperius.¡± Corvus rose an eyebrow at the group.


    ¡°You dare to dishonour the name of Desperius?¡± The short man pulled his flail free and stormed forward. His voice was gruff and vaguely barbaric, and his brown eyes cracked aggressively in rhythm to the swinging of his flail. Corvus got to his feet, flexing his right hand in warning. The man wavered slightly, but continued to storm forward.


    The woman began to draw her sickles but stopped when Gregory held up his hand and tried to retake control of the situation. Gregory had lost some of his composure and was clumsily tugging at his left glove, trying to let loose his Blackout should he need to.


    ¡°I¡¯ll teach you to disrespect our Lord!¡± The man raised his flail, ready to bring it down on Corvus¡¯ head. Corvus took another step forward in response, raising his right hand towards the man¡¯s neck.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Colton!¡± Gregory shouted, his voice filled to the brim with power.


    The man stopped dead in his tracks and quickly lowered his weapon. He lowered it so quickly that it collided with his lower leg, bringing out a sickening crunch of splintered bone and skin. His face flickered slightly with pain but he made no other move, as if he was being chained in place.


    ¡°I¡­I only meant¡­¡± The man, apparently named Colton, stuttered. He sounded as if his throat was constricting.


    ¡°I understand, my friend.¡± Gregory took a cautious step forward, eyeing Corvus¡¯ curse with fear dancing in his mismatched eyes. He had finally pulled his expensive glove off his hand, exposing the violently spinning tattoos on his wrist. ¡°I understand.¡±


    Gregory pressed his hand across the terrified Colton¡¯s mouth, knocking him out instantaneously. He collapsed into a heap into the arms of the other guard, snoring instantly. She rolled her eyes and carried him over to the bed that Gilgamesh was lounging on. He scowled at the pair and got to his feet, swinging his arms through their heads in irritation.


    ¡°Please forgive his zealotry. He is hard on newcomers like yourself for not being as devoted as himself. I''m sure you two will see eye to eye in no time.¡± Gregory smiled at Corvus, re-gloving his hand. ¡°I suppose it would help if I showed you around the halls, maybe take he edge off your nervousness.¡± He spoke the words as if they were from a script.


    ¡°Before that, I need to ask a few things.¡± Corvus interrupted.


    Gregory looked slightly taken aback, but smiled again, indicating Corvus to continue.


    ¡°First, where are my belongings? Second, how soon until I can leave this circle?¡± Corvus wanted to ask about Cleo, but her previous warnings hung in his mind. He decided to play things close to his chest for now and find her once he had his situation completely straight.


    ¡°Ah. Of course. I hope you can forgive us for taking your belongings to what will become your quarters. Knives and gunpowder don¡¯t mix well with infirmaries you see.¡± Gregory chuckled slightly.


    ¡°As for when you can leave that circle, well, that is still an issue. These halls are so concentrated with nature magic that leaving it is out of the question. The fact we use it for the lighting means we cannot completely remove it from everywhere.¡±


    ¡°Get to the point. Can I leave or am I going to die here.¡± Corvus felt a bubble of anger in the bottom of his heart and he felt no inclination to suppress it.


    The female guard placed her hand on one of her sickles, trying to be subtle. Corvus shifted his stare to her in an instant. She froze, realising that this new student was more dangerous than any other.


    ¡°Yes. You can.¡± Gregory spoke quickly, eager to disperse the tension that was mounting every second.


    ¡°When?¡± Corvus was almost growling at this point. He really didn¡¯t want to deal with any more people if he didn¡¯t have to.


    ¡°Soon. I have several ideas for how to let you walk the halls freely, however, I asked Dr Curos to assist me. He is obviously not available at this current time.¡± Gregory held his hands up, trying to calm the situation. Upon receiving a raised eyebrow from Corvus, he sighed. ¡°He won¡¯t be asleep for long. The sleep I induced wasn¡¯t that strong. Half an hour at most, I assure you.¡±


    Corvus maintained his stare into Gregory¡¯s eyes, focussing on each colour in turn, trying to find something underneath.


    ¡°Ok¡±. Corvus shrugged, sitting back down on the bed and leaning against the black wall.


    Several seconds of silence passed. Gregory and the one remaining guard exchanged confused glances before looking back at the relaxing boy. Gregory sighed through his smile.


    ¡°Cleo told me that you couldn''t be measured by normal standards. I owe her more credit.¡± He pressed two fingers agains the bridge of his nose, trying to stop his laughter. The female guard nodded her head slightly. ¡°Kira, could you see if the doctor will rise yet, I would like to begin as soon as possible.¡±


    The large woman, apparently called Kira, nodded and strode towards the bed on the other side of the room. She gently shook Helsay¡¯s shoulder, trying to shake the magically assisted sleep away. He snorted at her and turned over, mumbling angrily. She raised an eyebrow and moved to pick him up. He jerked awake before she touched him.


    ¡°Not proper procedure!¡± Helsay shouted at what remained of his dream. He glanced around before meeting Kira¡¯s eyes. ¡°Oh. Hello Kira.¡± He bowed his head slightly. She raised an eyebrow at him, handing him his walking stick. He took it with a smile.


    His energetic eyes scanned the room, trying to find the source of his wake up call. His eyes fell on Corvus, then Gregory. He shot to his feet as fast as he could without falling, which was rather slow in comparison to everyone else.


    ¡°My Lord! I apologise for my earlier behaviour. I only meant to¡ª¡± His deep voice shaking excitedly as he hobbled closer.


    ¡°It is quite alright, doctor. We all have our own quirks here.¡± Gregory held up his hand, chuckling. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to disturb your rest, but I would like your thoughts regarding that discussion we had earlier.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Helsay stopped, a confused look on his face. He rubbed his chin for several moments before his expression lifted. ¡°Oh! Of course, of course. Yes, I do believe that I have a solution to this particular hazard.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°You do? Wonderful! Please, explain.¡± Gregory clapped his hands lightly.


    Helsay took a seat on the bed beside Corvus¡¯, clearing his throat and leaning on his stick.


    ¡°If my theory about its growth and nature magic is correct, then in theory, we should be able to block all nature magic from coming into contact with his curse by writing the same spell on a sling of some kind that we used on this bed.¡± Helsay motioned to where Corvus was sitting.


    ¡°These slings could only be applied in these such zones, so I suggest that we make his quarters one as well. It would mean that he would have to use natural fire as his light source but that shouldn''t be too much of an issue. And, yes this would stop you from using that arm, it is a fairly good solution I believe.¡± Helsay finished, nodding his head and looking expectedly at Gregory.


    Gregory stroked his chin in thought, as a large grin spread across his face.


    ¡°You never cease to amaze, doctor.¡± He clapped his hands again. Helsay almost fainted with that compliment. There was one thing that Corvus wanted to know for sure.


    ¡°Could I still fight?¡± Corvus sat up, swinging his legs back over the side.


    ¡°You would only be able to use one hand, but yes. I would advise against it, however. If the sling is torn then nature magic will be able to seep in, fuelling your curse. You would have to protect it with your life.¡± Helsay nodded grimly.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t we put safe zones within the combat grounds? And perhaps give the instructors slings to be used to give him more time to get to safety?¡± Gregory continued the thought, ideas dancing in his eyes.


    ¡°Yes, yes! That could work perfectly. Creating nature magic free areas for you to go to when you need them. Genius!¡± Helsay was almost dancing.


    Corvus was not. The idea of him being chained to ¡®safe zones¡¯ sickened him. Not being able to use his arm for anything and having to protect a piece of cloth to keep himself alive. His record for tearing clothes was already large, so he wasn''t exactly excited about clothes being the only thing that kept him alive.


    There was one thing, however. One thing that it always came back to, no matter the drawback.


    ¡°If it keeps me alive, I¡¯m all for it.¡± Corvus struggled to get to the end of that sentence without his throat constricting.


    Helsay brought his hands together in giddiness. He hopped onto his feet and caught his stumble on his stick. Gregory walked forward and vigorously shook his hand in congratulations. The two men turned towards the dejected Corvus, their grins beaming unwanted happiness. Even Kira managed a smile but quickly abandoned it when it began to hurt.


    ¡°Well? No use waiting around, lad!¡± Helsay motioned Corvus to get up.


    Cautiously eyeing the pair, Corvus did just that, keeping his right hand by his side protectively.


    ¡°What exactly are we going to do?¡± Corvus spoke slowly, defensively.


    Helsay sensed this caution and turned his prideful grin into a warm smile, giving Corvus a thumbs up.


    ¡°Why, get you up and running of course!¡± Helsay chuckled.


    Corvus was initially confused, but then the group started to move in perfect efficiency. Gregory motioned to the door, which Kira strode towards at an impressive speed for a walk. Helsay took a step outside Corvus¡¯ magic ring and took a few moments to read the writing before hobbling over to a large cabinet that was set into the black stone of the infirmary.


    Corvus stared in awe at the collection of trinkets and tools that lay within the cabinet, but his attention was quickly turned back to Gregory. His hands were a blur in the air, inky black letters flying out faster and faster. The moment that Corvus tried to read what he was writing, Kira strode back into the room with a pile of pristine, pearly white blankets that almost looked like liquid glass.


    Helsay made his way back over to Corvus, a large set of black needles holstered in a leather strap around his wrist. Gregory¡¯s paragraph of black symbols began to warp and coil all around his body. He spread his arms out, controlling them into bands that rotated around him, constantly switching letters and shifting to different positions. Kira carefully placed the blankets on an empty bed and gently tugged the top one off with two fingers.


    Its pure white sheen almost hurt the group¡¯s eyes with the incredible contrast between the dark walls. She span it on several fingers, expanding it to its full size and making sure there were no creases. Helsay carefully pulled one of the long needles from his wrist-strap, examining it.


    With a small nod to Gregory, one of the several bands of runes that surrounded him flew off and caught the edges of Kira¡¯s blanket, taking it off her hand. She ducked out of the way as it began to slow to a gentle rotation.


    Gregory extended his hand, sending a slow, constant line of differing runes towards Helsay, who stabbed the needle down through each one, fixing it to the blanket. With that, Corvus knew what they were doing, sending a pang of amusement through the void of his heart. They were sewing magic into the blanket, one letter at a time. The deep black of the runes only made the white of the blanket shine brighter.


    Corvus was enamoured by their handiwork. The gentle flow of runes, the rhythmic piercing of the cloth and the slight hum as the runes settled in to the fabric. When one band of runes was depleted, another took its place, until all the runes were spent. By that time, Helsay¡¯s needle was sizzling and the cloth was rippling of its own accord. Gregory snapped his fingers and the underlying ring of letters dissolved into the air.


    The cloth fluttered to the ground, twitching for a few seconds before relaxing into a soft layer on the ground. With a soft ping noise, Helsay¡¯s needle snapped and fell to the floor, smoking.


    Kira began gently clapping, and Corvus was inclined to join in. Helsay and Gregory each took an edge of the blanket and examined it. It was a square, maybe three feet long on each side with three borders of black symbols, each deep with complexity and meaning. They both nodded in satisfaction and smiled to each other, then to Corvus.


    ¡°I told you it would be fast.¡± Gregory laughed to himself, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He straightened, regaining his powerful pose. ¡°Doctor, if you would.¡±


    ¡°Of course, my lord.¡± Helsay did his best to bow, before moving towards Corvus with the blanket. ¡°May I?¡±


    Corvus cautiously extended his right arm, the purple lines beneath his twisted skin flared slightly. Very carefully, Helsay held the blanket up to his arm, measuring what would need to go where.


    After a few moments, he smiled and hobbled back over to his large cabinet, rummaging around the curious contents. Several muffled curses and small pecks from a nest of multicoloured birds later, he returned with a small spool of silver ribbon.


    He touched the ribbon against the blanket, and it vanished inside, as if it had seeped into the fabric. The colour of the cloth changed slightly as the silver flowed in. Lines of sparkle appeared on the surface, bouncing off the black runes at the side. Corvus couldn¡¯t take his eyes off the display of magical beauty. When all the ribbon was gone, Helsay sighed with relief and offered the blanket to Corvus.


    ¡°Go ahead. Just wrap it around your arm like any other blanket.¡± Helsay reassured.


    With great hesitation caused by the judgmental and irritated face of Gilgamesh, Corvus took hold of the blanked. It was incredibly soft yet free, like a unicorn¡¯s mane. He gently wrapped it around his charred skin, covering his curse completely. Helsay was almost giddy with excitement.


    ¡°Now, hold your hand where it would normally be in a sling.¡± He motioned to just beneath his chest. Corvus did just that. ¡°Now. Say the word ¡®Contain¡¯.¡±. Helsay spoke clearly and deliberately, as if getting it wrong was dangerous.


    Corvus looked down as his covered hand, overwhelmed with curiosity.


    ¡°Contain.¡±


    In an instant, Corvus couldn¡¯t see anything and fell to the ground with a thud. He vaguely heard a loud ¡°Oops!¡± from Helsay as he realised that he had gotten the word wrong himself and the overpowering laughter from Gilgamesh to his left. He knew he probably looked like an idiot.


    ¡°Reveal! No? Release? Hmm. Ah! Relent!¡± Helsay cycled trough various pass-phrases before settling on one. The ribbons that covered Corvus receded back into the blanket. Corvus sat up and raised an eyebrow at the embarrassed doctor. Gregory did the same, with a slight hint of a smile on his face. ¡°I am very sorry. The word I meant to say was ¡®Support¡¯.¡± He spoke to the floor, a tint of red in his cheeks.


    Corvus maintained his raised eyebrow for several seconds before looking back at his arm and re-adjusting the blanket. He took a deep breath.


    ¡°Support.¡±


    The sliver ribbons flew out of the blanket, wrapping his arm tightly and coiling around his shoulder and neck. Several more wrapped around his chest, binding his arm to his body and securing it with yet more ribbon. Corvus tugged the sling. It was solid. Extremely solid. He could¡¯ve torn through it but it would be difficult and time-consuming, even for him. His eyes went wide with awe.


    ¡°It worked, It worked!¡± Helsay bounced, before catching a glance from Gregory. Helsay cleared his throat and straightened. ¡°Of course it worked.¡±


    Gregory laughed out loud, slapping his thigh, then offering a hand to Corvus.


    ¡°What do you say, Corvus? Shall we explore your new home?¡± Gregory grinned down at him.


    Corvus took his hand and rose to his feet. Gregory motioned for him to step out of the ring that surrounded his bed. Corvus froze on the spot, not wanting to go anywhere close to somewhere his curse could grow. With a wink and encouraging smile from Helsay, a raised eyebrow from Kira, a welcoming hand from Gregory and a mocking challenge from Gilgamesh, Corvus decided to step forward.


    He expected the blanket to wither, to blacken and burn with violet fire. The ribbons to wrap around his neck and take his head off. His hand to clutch out and murder the entire infirmary. None of these things happened. The feeling of the concentrated magic gave him goosebumps and sent a shiver down his spine, but there was no fire. No curse. No danger.


    Corvus stared at the sling. He wasn¡¯t going to die. Not today. He returned his gaze to Gregory.


    ¡°Where to first?¡±

 Chapter 17: The Tree is Large and Full of Secrets

    As Corvus took his first step out the infirmary, his attention was turned away from the haunting green lights that fluttered around the dark hallway in front of him, and towards Gregory. He was giving stern instructions to Kira, who silently listened and nodded. Helsay gave a small bow before shuffling back towards the large cabinet full of curiosities. Kira made a formal salute before walking back towards her snoring partner.


    Gregory turned back around, smiling.


    ¡°Doctor Curos will continue his research into nature curses to see if there is anyway it might be dealt with more permanently. Kira will bring Colton along when he is awake. Let you two have a proper introduction.¡± Gregory scraped the back of his head, slightly embarrassed.


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± Corvus shrugged, turning his attention back to the hallway. His eyes scanned the shadowy walls. They were mostly rough, uneven, black stone with the occasional bulge of a root protruding between them. It was far less clean than the infirmary, but still served the purpose of being wide and and secure. ¡°Are we underground?¡± He asked, absently.


    ¡°Yes. Under the town to be specific. The willow tree in the square acts as a multi-purpose door of sorts, letting us enter various rooms as well as various traps for those who would attack us.¡±


    Gregory began walking confidently down the hallway, brushing aside the small, buzzing lights that were in his path.


    ¡°The priests attack often?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow, holding a purring felia on his index finger.


    ¡°More frequent every year. They never get far, however. They don¡¯t call it ¡®Labyrinth Forest¡¯ without good reason. Add to that our various illusions and sorceries, and Desperius is as impenetrable as ever.¡± Gregory chuckled, brushing the rough stone with his gloved hand.


    ¡°As ever? How old is this place?¡± Corvus looked around at the walls. They looked old, yes, but cutting into stone like this was still challenging, even with the advances in gunpowder.


    ¡°That question has several answers.¡± Gregory turned and smiled apologetically. ¡°You will learn the details when your classes begin in several months, but I see no reason why I can¡¯t give you a little head-start.¡± He patted Corvus¡¯ shoulder, laughing to himself.


    ¡°Don''t do that again.¡± Corvus brushed Gregory¡¯s hand off, earning a surprised and mildly offended look from Gregory. He smiled again, but it was clear that it held slightly less warmth than before.


    ¡°Of course. My apologies.¡± Gregory apologised. He straightened, clearing his throat in an attempt to reset the conversation. ¡°Yes. Anyway. Desperius. Back in the earliest days of our kind, we used our power and our magic to create a country for us to live and prosper in. It was an uphill battle, the world still reeling from the destruction caused by The Feud of Three, but we succeeded eventually.


    ¡°We created Undron. It was unparalleled in scale, might and glory when it was first built, and grew larger and larger under our leader, second reincarnation of the strongest of the Three Kings, ¡®Recluse King¡¯ Gilgamesh. His name was Meathre Castian, and he had all the charisma and power of his former self.¡± Gregory explained.


    ¡°Though none of the dazzling good looks.¡± Gilgamesh added, hanging one-handed from one of the roots on the roof of the hallway.


    ¡°Undron prospered under his rule, spreading faster and further that any other. Our capital city was the glorious Desperius. It was so large that it filled nearly a third of our lands. That was its downfall. Those damn life-wielders destroyed us from the inside with their unfathomable religion. It took less than a year for civil war to break out between the royalty and the faith, reaching an end when Meathre¡¯s closest friend assassinated him.


    ¡°We were forced out of our own land as they stole our work for themselves, claiming Undron as their ¡®right¡¯. They tore down our homes and our legacies to build their own on our foundations. We were powerless to stop them as they removed all trace of us. Desperius became Flouria. Undron became Holsa. And we lost everything, while they were expanding all over Havare.


    ¡°Now we live wherever we can, making it as safe and large as possible, while trying to expand at every opportunity. Our home will always be an extension of Desperius, no matter where we are. And now it is our goal to turn Desperius back into the Undron it once was, and to see to it that everyone who stops us is slain.¡±


    Gregory¡¯s speech echoed in the hallway, felias fluttered to and fro. Gregory wiped his eyes and levelled a grim smile at Corvus.


    ¡°We live to keep our family strong. Death cannot stop us from fighting, so we will fight until we are the only ones left standing. Even if civilians die, we must forge ahead until the world knows of our struggles and returns to us what we built. And for our enemies, we will defeat them, in this life or the next.¡± Gregory gestured to the walls.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°We may be underground, but the light of our future is ever bright inside us.¡±


    ¡°You really love speeches, don¡¯t you?¡± Corvus rose an eyebrow.


    Gregory blushed slightly, scratching his head.


    ¡°Well, they are one of my strong suits. Come. I¡¯ve delayed long enough.¡± Gregory chuckled, gesturing forwards.


    As Corvus took a few steps forward, something flashed into his head. A phrase. One that perfectly fit with that story. He didn¡¯t know why they were so connected, but there was definitely something.


    ¡°An eye ever watchful on those who survive, death will remind no one¡¯s safe who¡¯s alive.¡± Corvus repeated the phrase under his breath, curious about its meaning.


    ¡°Did you say something?¡± Gregory glanced sideways at him.


    ¡°Nope.¡± Corvus shrugged casually. It would be better if he acted like he knew less than he did.


    From Cleo¡¯s warnings, he had to tread carefully around everyone, besides his classmates apparently. Corvus would judge what to do about that after he met them, but until then, play everything safe.


    ¡°And here we are.¡± Gregory announced, gesturing forward.


    Corvus tilted his head in confusion. It still looked the same as the last few minutes of walking, what was so different that it required an announcement. Then again, Gregory seemed like the person who would make a speech just to hear his own voice.


    ¡°Where exactly is here?¡± Corvus asked, glancing at a grinning Gregory.


    ¡°Watch, my friend, as the Halls of Desperius welcome you.¡± Gregory¡¯s face was plastered with a stupidly happy grin as he reached his hand a little further forward.


    His hand connected with something in the air and he grabbed hold of it. The hallway warped in front of them, turning in on itself and folding back. The stones flowed over each other, sending waves of green light rippling across the surface of whatever Gregory was holding. The horizon shot forward, bringing the tide of rock towards them at blinding speed. Gregory braced slightly, almost unconsciously while Corvus stood his ground.


    The rocks collided with a small gust of wind just in front of them, twisting and rippling into something more recognisable. A door sprung into being through the layers of rocks, Gregory¡¯s gloved hand firmly grasping the handle. He turned to Corvus, almost giggling.


    ¡°That one always gives me the shivers.¡± Gregory chuckled, his hair standing on end slightly. With an impressed nod from Corvus, he turned back to the door, pushing it open with a slight grunt of exertion.


    The stone door began moving on its own, scraping across the floor with a chilling scratch sound.


    Bright green light spilled out through the ever-growing gap, momentarily blinding Corvus. As he blinked the green spots out of his eyes, a truly wondrous scene opened out before him.


    A hall, no, a chapel opened around him as he stepped through the door. It was larger than anything he had ever seen before, with echoes spreading out from all the various sounds. The roof was alight with barely visible felias, creating shifting constellations of green stars. There were torches and braziers everywhere, burning with emerald fire that sent dancing shadows across the faces of those inside.


    And there was a lot of faces.


    A group of three fairly young people, two women and a man, were slowly sparring, checking each other''s posture for mistakes. A grizzled man sat on a small outcrop of black stone, engrossed in a messy book of notes and loose paper. Several children were running after each other, laughing, their parents lost in a private discussion.


    A man huddled in the corner, running a small black cloud hovering in his hand over a delicate dagger. He returned it to his belt, standing up and flicking through a large sack of parchment scrolls that lay on a bench in front of him. A group of men were standing in a circle, creating small flashes of black lighting and writing notes on each one.


    Then there was the doors. There must have been thirty at least, each one made from shining black stone, distinguished from the rest of the black stone of the chapel by the green inscriptions on the surface.


    The group of three that were sparring began arguing about something that was lost in the noise of the playing children and the other arguments. They continued to argue as they walked to one of the doors and disappeared inside, their voices vanishing instantly.


    Another door opened on the opposite side of the room, allowing a large, bare chested man with sweat covered pure white skin. He was holding what looked to be a small, searing red spearhead in a set of blacksmith¡¯s tongs. He walked over to a woman who was sitting on the ground, lazily turning the pages in a leather bound book, as if she weren''t even reading them.


    A small conversation ensued, ending in her closing her book and standing to walk back through that same door. The man followed, trying to argue his point, and failing miserably. The woman turned around to rebut his defences, her defensive, emerald eyes shining. Corvus immediately stopped focussing on anything else.


    It was Cleo. She was no longer wearing her hunting gear, her weapons or anything that she was had when he last saw her. Her spear was nowhere in sight, her belt and armour was replaced by a loose, comfortable, white shirt and brown smithing apron with several soot stains from the forge. Her dark-red skin made her fairly easy to see in the powerful green light.


    Their eyes met and she stopped talking mid sentence. Several seconds passed of surprised silence before Corvus remembered her advice. He gave her a curt nod, showing no hint of affection or friendship. She snapped back into reality and nodded back, her face stoic and formal. The other smith looked over at who she was looking at and almost dropped his tongs when he saw Gregory.


    Cleo sighed in irritation, taking them off him and chastising him in an unheard insult. She glanced back for an instant before taking the piece-in-progress back through the door to what Corvus assumed was the blacksmith. The large man turned and nodded awkwardly to Corvus and Gregory before stumbling through the door before it was closed.


    ¡°See? Making friends already!¡± Gregory chuckled, gesturing at the closing door. ¡°Come now. What do you say to a tour?¡±


    Corvus was still looking towards where Cleo had left through. In this place of wonder and cautious safety, he still had some sense of stability with her. He turned to Gregory with a shrug.


    ¡°Sure. Let¡¯s start with the toilets.¡±

 Chapter 18: New Roots

    After Corvus¡¯ timely introduction to the Desperius latrine, Gregory led him on a tour of the chapel.


    ¡°This large hall is the centrepiece of our home. Think of it like a large, social space where you can meet with your classmates and others. There are no limits to what you can do here, however, if you want more focussed or intensive practice or study, you''d be better off in the dedicated room for it.¡± Gregory explained, gesturing to the large black hall that they¡¯d returned to.


    ¡°How many other rooms are there? Do all these doors go to a different one?¡± Corvus looked around sceptically. There was almost a hundred doors here, and if they were underground then there was no way that they all lead to different rooms.


    ¡°Not including the dorms and living spaces, there are about one hundred different rooms with dedicated purposes. And yes. Yes they do.¡± Gregory smiled at Corvus, almost giggling at Corvus¡¯ surprised face. ¡°Want to see them all?¡±


    ¡°No. just the ones that I¡¯ll be using regularly so that I still have some room to think with.¡± Corvus scanned the room, trying to decipher which door went where. A small boy ran into his legs, falling over and laughing. Corvus looked down at the child, who¡¯s eyes lit up.


    The other child, a girl, that was following them picked them off the floor and pulling them away from Corvus, whispering something in their ear. The pair laughed and continued running around the hall.


    ¡°Cheery bunch aren''t they?¡± Gregory chuckled. He scratched his chin, thinking over what rooms to show Corvus. ¡°There are several that you will be entering on a regular basis that you should become familiar with initially. The other rooms are better suited for later studies, so you won¡¯t use them much.¡± Gregory turned to Corvus. ¡°Shall we?¡±


    Corvus nodded, his eyes still on the pair, chasing after each other over benches, stone seats, even other people. Their parents were still lost in conversation, flicking through several small notebooks to try and support their points. Corvus turned to Gregory, indicating that he should lead the way forward.


    He strode towards a door to his left, nodding politely to a small circle of men, lost in their books. He pressed his hand against the black and green slab of stone, causing it to shift and swing open.


    There was nothing on the other side of the door, only a pitch black void. Gregory turned and smiled at Corvus, hinting that he was going to enjoy his reaction. The pair walked inside, the stone door closing behind them and plunging them into silence.


    The room was pitch black, completely absent of light. There was a rush of small buzzing sounds that seemed to come from nowhere, overwhelming the darkness. Then there was a space of green light, then another, then more. The small felias blinked to life, swimming through the air like leaves on a sea breeze. As more light flashed into view, the outline of the room became solid.


    Then there was the contents, which definitely caught Corvus¡¯ interest. Weapons everywhere.


    Racks reaching up to the ceiling of swords, maces, axes, pikes and various other instruments of death that Corvus didn¡¯t recognise. Barrels of what looked to be gunpowder were stacked in a corner that was larger and larger the more Corvus looked at it. Muskets and other firearms had their own racks, numbering in the thousands at least.


    Corvus only then realised that the room was far larger than he thought. It was just as big, if not larger than the large chapel they had just left, with the addition of an army¡¯s worth of weaponry and munitions. There were unstrung bows, more arrows than could be counted and even large slingshots beside sacks of small, black rocks. If you could think of a way to kill someone, there was something in here you could use.


    ¡°Cool.¡± That was the only word that came to Corvus¡¯ mind.


    Gregory threw his head back in laughter, slapping his leg. He took a few steps forward, examining the stacks of weaponry, with the occasional glance to Corvus.


    ¡°Does anything appeal?¡± He asked, a large grin on his face.


    Corvus took a few steps forward himself. He had lost most of what his father had left him, only having his belt, pouch, knives and Raven left. He had his anchor, but judging by the sheer variety of the room, there was clearly no limit to how many weapons he could make use of. He took several steps forward, running his hand across the smooth, stone racks of killing machines.


    He saw something at the far end of the rack that caught his attention. He stepped towards it, and time seemed to stop. A pair of cutlasses, crossed blade over blade. A memory of him and his father forging a similar pair, perfectly fitted to him, ached in his mind. He instinctually reached out to touch them, the steel was hard but flexible. Brutal but graceful. Gregory stepped behind him, an eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Cutlasses? Interesting choice. You¡¯ve used them before?¡±


    Corvus opened his mouth to speak, but no sound escaped. He took a breath, massaging his constricted throat.


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve made some before, but the pair that I had were destroyed.¡± Corvus¡¯ voice was slightly gravelly. He coughed, getting his voice back to normal. He stared down at his right hand, constricted just beneath his chest in white ribbons, and clenched his remaining fist in fury. ¡°I prefer using two, but I¡¯ll make do with one.¡± Corvus glared at the cutlasses, as if they were taunting him.


    Gregory took a few moments to consider this, before picking the cutlasses off the rack and sheathing them in their respective sheaths. He smiled sympathetically at Corvus.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send them to the smith so that you can make the most out of them, regardless of your situation.¡± He wrote a small sentence of black writing into the air, then crushed it in his fist. Several seconds of tense silence passed, a sense of guarded curiosity about what he just did. The door opened, spilling intense green light into the room.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    It was the same man that Corvus had seen with Cleo earlier, sweat plastering his large forehead.


    ¡°Yes, my lord?¡± The man panted.


    ¡°Ah, Daeden. Please give these to Cleo, with instructions to make them suitable for use by our new friend. She has seen him fight so she will know how best to proceed.¡± Gregory offered forward the pair of cutlasses.


    The large smith, Daeden, reached out and accepted the cutlasses as if they were a holy object, nodding frantically. He bowed his head quickly and exited the room, sending the weapons in the room back into eerie shadow. Gregory went to pat Corvus¡¯ shoulder but decided against it.


    ¡°Having only less usable arm doesn''t mean you can¡¯t fight on par with the best of us.¡± Gregory smiled warmly. He turned back towards the door. ¡°Speaking of which, let us continue. I think you will enjoy this one.¡± Gregory walked towards the door, tugging it open and motioning for Corvus to follow.


    After a backward glance towards the incredible armoury, Corvus did so, walking out the door and back into the chapel. In those short minutes, the people in the chapel had changed. There was no more children, their parents had gone too. Instead there was a large group of young faces, maybe thirty or so, shouting over each other, as if all trying to be heard. A worn-faced man stepped out in front of them, trying to get them to keep moving.


    The man was short and looked like he was chiselled out of stone. He was all power, muscle, and seriousness, less so in height. His dark-red skin and ruby-red eyes added to his intimidation, if his large, calloused hands didn¡¯t already terrify. He yelled out to the group, directing them to one of the doors. His shattering baritone voice silenced the shouting group, leading them into the door opposite Gregory and Corvus.


    ¡°What luck. We get a demonstration.¡± Gregory chuckled, leaning back into his heels while the group were herded into the door. After they had vanished into the darkness, Gregory strode forward, catching the door before it closed, allowing Corvus through.


    The room looked dark at first, but after a few steps, the bright light of green fire pierced his eyes. After blinking the spots out of his eyes, Corvus was faced with yet another awe inspiring spectacle. A colosseum of rough black stone, lit by enormous braziers of emerald fire that surrounded an open area of dark sand. The seat and steps that led downwards were worn and heavily used by the looks of them.


    Gregory strode through the door, chuckling to himself.


    ¡°It¡¯s disorientating the first few times isn¡¯t it?¡± Gregory motioned to the vast space, grinning from ear to ear.


    ¡°The fact that the rooms aren¡¯t connected physically? Yeah, I gathered.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    An unreadable feeling flashed into Gregory¡¯s mismatched eyes, before being replaced by his usually warm smile.


    ¡°You''re a sharp one, Corvus. You have already far surpassed my initial expectations.¡± He stroked his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Be careful not to overextend yourself. There are some who would do almost anything to have an insight like that.¡± He whispered in Corvus¡¯ ear.


    Corvus recoiled in surprise. He opened his mouth to say something but Gregory motioned to the centre of the colosseum. Curious, Corvus shifted his gaze to the group. They had split into pairs, sparring with their partners. It was much faster than the small group that were in the chapel earlier, and the way they moved was more aggressive.


    ¡°They''re actually fighting.¡± Corvus noted, intrigued.


    Gregory nodded, taking a seat on one of the steps. Corvus followed suit, intensely focussed on the display of skill.


    The short man stood to the side, observing the barehanded brawling. About a minute of organised back-and-forth beating, he called out for them to stop. They did so, walking into a circle in the centre.


    ¡°Here we go.¡± Gregory whispered excitedly.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Corvus asked, glancing sideways.


    ¡°That was the warm up. Now comes the exercise.¡± Gregory tapped his feet in expectation.


    When Corvus returned his eyes to the class, curiosity filling his mind. The class nodded at whatever instructions he gave, going back into their pairs. Instead of sparring again, they stood slightly further apart, assuming different stances than before. The pressure in the room changed, popping Corvus¡¯ ears.


    Each one of them charged forward, surrounded by a green ethereal glow. They grasped various weapons into existence, twirling pikes, muskets and many other tools, there was even someone clutching a ghostly noose. Each clash of steel and parry of magical energy sent powerful echoes through the air. The fighting was visceral, cracks of bone were heard, muscles were torn and people yelled out in pain and adrenaline.


    Each clash of weaponry made Corvus jolt slightly, as if his anchor yearned to be free and fight alongside them. He quelled these urges, focussing on the fight. It was a valuable experience, seeing people who were skilled in their magic fight so honestly. He would learn as much as he could so that he could put them all down if he needed to.


    The clashing stopped suddenly. The group rushed towards one particularly hurt person, drawing dark lines around him to slow the bleeding from a deep wound in his stomach. The girl was writhing and almost screaming in agony. A few of the un-injured people carried her to a doorway on the far side of the colosseum, pushing it open and vanishing into the void.


    The other members of the group wrote various sentences and runes into the air to quell the pain of their own wounds, before making their way to that same door and disappearing inside.


    ¡°That one goes to the infirmary. Dr Curos will heal them up in no time.¡± Gregory spoke casually, getting to his feet. The rest of the group was walking up the stairs back to the door they had come through. Corvus also got to his feet, eyeing the group cautiously. Gregory nodded to the short man, who saluted back, before returning to herd what remained of the group.


    ¡°Where are they going now?¡± Corvus asked, sending a glance towards Gregory.


    ¡°Let¡¯s have a look, shall we?¡± Gregory grinned, following behind the short man and motioning for Corvus to follow him. With a few seconds of hesitation, Corvus fell into step behind the group. After exiting the colosseum and returning to the ever-lively chapel, the group made their way to a door on the opposite side of the hall, funnelling into it the same way as before.


    This room was just as enormous as the last few, except it was stacked to the ceiling with books and scrolls. The air seemed to be steeped in silence. No one spoke, moved or even seemed to breathe. There was a middle-aged librarian walking across the room to meet the short man. His footsteps made no noise, adding to his air of mystery that was added to by his lantern of fluttering felias.


    He didn¡¯t speak, instead writing a sentence in the air and floating it towards the short man, who nodded in understanding, motioning to his group. They scattered, picking up various tomes and browsing them in small huddles. Gregory tapped Corvus on the shoulder, indicating they should take their leave. Corvus agreed, keen to leave the silence as soon as possible.


    The pair left back into the chapel, where Corvus immediately took a seat on one of the stone benches, taking long, laboured breaths.


    ¡°The library has that effect on our new members, I''m afraid.¡± Gregory sat beside him, smiling apologetically.


    ¡°No warning?¡± Corvus sighed in irritation.


    ¡°I apologise. I shouldn¡¯t have brought you in there without some notice.¡± Gregory nodded sadly.


    Corvus sighed, getting back to his feet.


    ¡°So. Is that everything, or can I go to my room now?¡± Corvus asked, mildly angry.


    Gregory¡¯s face lifted slightly as he chuckled.


    ¡°You could, but I think there is something more important first.¡± He laughed to himself.


    ¡°What?¡± Corvus almost growled. Gregory was starting to get on his nerves.


    ¡°Well. Don''t you want to meet your new friends first?¡±

 Chapter 19: New Flock

    The walk to the dorms was a long and complicated one. According to yet another speech from Gregory, there was no single door that led to personal areas like bedrooms or baths. Instead, you had to navigate long, dark corridors for what seemed like hours.


    Apparently, it was the only part of the halls that was a single piece, rather than being separate rooms and halls scattered throughout the rooted bedrock beneath the forest. That fact allowed it to be expanded as much as was required, adding to its marvel. Gregory also whispered that this restriction could be lifted in times of battle, but that was apparently a secret.


    Corvus was tired of all the walking over the last month, choosing to ignore most of what Gregory was saying. He tried to make the walk slightly less mind-numbingly boring by listening to Gilgamesh rambling about how angry this dark always made him. Corvus was often surprised by just how much Gilgamesh found to complain about, from his hair to the particularly irritating flight of the felias.


    By the time the many different corridors began to change slightly, Gregory was breathless, leaning against the stone walls, much to Gilgamesh¡¯s amusement. It began to branch off in several directions marked by runes above each one. With a few seconds of staring at the various letters, Corvus deduced which one he needed to go to. At least he assumed it was the right one, judging by how it was labelled ¡®New Blood¡¯.


    With a raised eyebrow, Corvus took a step towards it, eyeing the opening carefully.


    ¡°Wait¡­Corvus¡­¡± Gregory panted, taking laboured breaths.


    ¡°What for?¡± Corvus asked, not even turning to look at him.


    ¡°You need¡­to wait.¡± Gregory took a deep breath and forged ahead, stepping beside Corvus and stopping. ¡°A precaution.¡± After taking a few more deep breaths, he wrote a small rune in the air and held it on his finger, smiling apologetically. ¡°This rune will let you bypass the various defences in place around the halls. It wont hurt a bit.¡±


    Corvus eyed the rune. He didn¡¯t trust the man. There was something about him that put Corvus on edge.


    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ll pass.¡± Corvus shrugged to the man. Before he listened to Gregory¡¯s response, he took a step down the corridor.


    Immediately, he was faced with a large cloaked figure, all in black. The figure extended its right hand and sent spikes of black smoke into Corvus¡¯ chest. The spikes launched Corvus into the black stone of the corridor. Terrified, Corvus looked down to his hand, but it was thankfully unharmed. He stood up, raising his left hand in a fist and putting his left foot forward.


    The figure advanced quickly, more spikes forming in its hidden hands.


    Gregory jumped in front of the figure, spreading his arms wide protectively. The cloaked figure twitched then dissolved into the air, the smoke still hanging in the air. He quickly turned and knelt beside Corvus, a worried expression filling his face. He quickly started writing the same rune that Cleo had used to save her own life.


    ¡°Don''t bother.¡± Corvus waved his hand away.


    ¡°You''ll die if I don¡¯t!¡± Gregory continued tracing the rune.


    ¡°Nope. Look.¡± Corvus sighed, getting to his feet to the shock of Gregory.


    ¡°Don¡¯t move! You¡­You¡­¡± He trailed off, staring at the closing wounds on Corvus¡¯ chest. ¡°You can¡­heal?¡± His voice was vacant and shocked.


    ¡°That¡¯s the one. I¡¯d like to avoid it if possible though.¡± Corvus shrugged. ¡°Anyway. No runes.¡±


    ¡°W-wait! You must have one. It is the only way that the defences will allow you through.¡± Gregory stumbled to his feet, pleading.


    ¡°Then write it onto a broach or something. I wont let you put any runes on me.¡± Corvus shot back, stabbing a steely gaze to Gregory.


    Gregory was taken aback, flicking though his mind over and over to try to find a solution. He frantically patted his robes, rustling his chainmail and searching various hidden pockets. He finally found something and tugged it out of his pocket.


    It was a small, simple, silver necklace, decorated with antler-like decorations around it. Gregory held it out to Corvus.


    ¡°This. Will this work?¡± Gregory was almost begging.


    ¡°Yeah. Sure.¡± Corvus shrugged, tugging at the holes in his clothes.


    Gregory immediately began writing various runes into the necklace, writing faster and faster with a wild look in his eyes. After his frantic writing, he breathed a sigh of relief, holding the black and silver necklace out to Corvus, who absently took it and tied it around his neck. Gregory stood up and offered his hand. Corvus cautiously took it.


    ¡°Welcome to the family, Corvus.¡± Gregory smiled happily, warmly shaking Corvus¡¯ hand. ¡°I hope we can do great things together.¡± He motioned towards the corridor that Corvus had walked down earlier.


    Corvus dropped his hand, focussing intently on the corridor. With a few cautious steps forward, he slowly made his way towards the front of the corridor. Gregory strode passed him excitedly, motioning for Corvus to follow quickly.


    Corvus sighed in irritation. He just wanted to be free of Gregory at this point. He followed behind the confidant man, darting his eyes around the corridor of dark rock and green lights. After that close call, he was desperate to protect his hand from any other surprises. Immediately after that thought, one such surprise occurred.


    The corridor began to melt away, the green felias streaking across his vision like rays of light under the ocean. The stones twisted into each other, warping into a vile broth of bubbling black sand. The sound of the shifting roots and earth tore through the corridor, shattering Corvus¡¯ eardrums and shaking the earth. The roots began to constrict, wrapping themselves around Corvus¡¯ neck and pressing.


    The feeling of his wind-pipe being crushed sent ribbons of panic through Corvus, who tried everything to tear at them with his left hand, but they held strong. He tried to raise his right had to burn them away, but it remained pinned to his chest, strangled by white cloth. Corvus tried to scream, but no sound came. A strange hum filled his ears, ripping through the corridor.


    His new necklace began humming, the illusion melting away before Corvus¡¯ eyes. He felt his neck with his left hand and it was perfectly unharmed.


    Corvus became slightly light-headed, stumbling forward and tripping over his own feet. Gregory was waiting to catch him, holding his shoulders carefully. Corvus took a few breaths to get his senses back before looking back to Gregory, who was smiling warmly and apologetically.


    ¡°I am truly sorry. The runes took a few seconds to activate it seems.¡± He patted Corvus¡¯ shoulders supportively. Corvus didn¡¯t say a word, instead placing his left hand on to of Gregory¡¯s. Gregory went to say something else, but was cut of immediately by his own scream when Corvus wrenched his middle finger back, snapping it instantly.


    Gregory stumbled back, hitting the stone wall, clutching his hand and bleating in pain. Corvus didn¡¯t spare him a glance when he walked passed, only stopping for a moment to get his point across.


    ¡°The next time you do something like that, I¡¯ll break more than your finger.¡± Corvus growled, coldly.


    He didn¡¯t stop to listen to Gregory¡¯s shout/cry of a response. The corridor was different than before. It was much shorter, no longer clouded in shadows and had a door about ten feet ahead of him, lit by two green torches. Corvus placed his hand on the door, pushing just as Gregory had done to all the others. It slowly began to swing open, scraping against the ground but not slowing down.


    Corvus heard a small, childlike sob from Gregory before he closed the large stone door, blocking out all sound from the corridor. However, there was more than enough sound coming from the room to disguise that.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Laughter, friendly conversation and the familiar crackling of a fire. Corvus was stood in a small porch, shoes and boots lying in various levels of order and cleanliness in small alcoves in the stone wall. There was one alcove that stood out to Corvus, as it had his boots in it, cleaned, repaired and untouched. Corvus raised an eyebrow, making his way to the front of the porch.


    The room in front of him was physically less impressive than anything else he had seen from Desperius, but far more welcoming. It was small compared to the other rooms, but rather large compared to normal houses. It was about ten feet high in the ceiling and twenty or so feet square. There were small, open doors that lead to what looked like a kitchen and a study room, judging by the desks.


    There was another corridor opposite Corvus, leading to several other branches of doors. The bedrooms, Corvus assumed.


    The room itself was wildly stacked with comfortable chairs and straw mattresses, each one pointed towards a soothing orange fire, snapping quietly in a black fireplace. The warm glow of the fire massively contrasted with the eerie green light that filled the rest of Desperius, giving the room a sense of otherworldly comfort.


    There were several figures lying down all around the room, laughing and chatting. There looked to be about seven people lounging on the various comfortable furniture items, some hugging blankets, some hugging weapons, some hugging each other. Their conversations overlapped loudly, to the point that they sometimes had to shout over each other to be heard.


    Corvus took several moments to take in the scene. It seemed like years since he had seen a fire that wasn¡¯t green, and voices that weren¡¯t angry or discussing fighting.


    He remembered that Cleo had said that they had been here for a while longer than him. Long enough to become good friends it seemed. That may have been helped by their slightly older age, but they didn¡¯t look much older than Corvus. In fact, they all looked young and full of life. Curiosity calling, he decided to wait in the doorway of the porch and listen to their conversation.


    ¡°I told you not to tell anyone that, May!¡± A fairly short but ripped man complained, waving his arms in defeat at the girl who sat next to him. His pale blue eyes blinked in embarrassment as he tried to shift his light-gold fringe in front of his eyes to no avail.


    ¡°How could I not? Everyone would find it eventually!¡± The girl, Corvus guessed was called May, laughed, falling on to her back on a straw mattress and giggled. Her voice was vaguely southern, but that may have just been a side effect from her laughter. She pushed her pure white hair out of her yellow eyes, rocking back and forth with giggles.


    ¡°There''s no shame in having one, Damian. If it helps, one of my servants¡ªI mean, I used to have a dream diary too.¡± Another man chimed in, correcting his near mis-step. He needn¡¯t have bothered because his accent screamed ¡®Noble¡¯. His flowing brown hair that looked as if it needed hours of modelling added to that. Gilgamesh nodded in approval of the man¡¯s hair.


    ¡°Oh come on. Yours would just be ¡®roll in gold¡¯ over and over again, Jack.¡± Damian rolled his eyes at the noble. Corvus was initially confused why a noble would have such an ordinary name.


    ¡°Stop calling me Jack! My name is Jacque Neutrialis Rivielle VIII!¡± Jack sprung up, stamping his feet in irritation.


    ¡®Ah. There it is.¡¯ Corvus nodded slightly.


    ¡°Nah. You¡¯re Jack. Easier to say.¡± A deep voice spoke from a separate mattress. The man to who it belonged was similar in build to Corvus, toned and athletic, except he was about 7 feet tall. He was lounging with his arm around a woman, who appeared to be sleeping. He wasn¡¯t wearing a shirt, exposing several brutal scars along his chest and arms. He blinked some tiredness out of his brown eyes, lifting his hand to yawn into it.


    ¡°Oh be quiet, Henrith. You don¡¯t get to say whatever you want just because you''re tall and strong¡­and handsome¡­¡± Jack lost his train of thought, sitting back down quietly. The room was filled with muffled chuckles, breaking out into hearty laughter soon after.


    ¡°I couldn''t agree more, Jack-a-boy.¡± A small, but playful voice chirped up from beneath Henrith.


    The girl who was tangled up in his arms raised her head, lifting her eyebrow in the direction of the embarrassed noble. Her skin was a pale white, blending seamlessly into her platinum hair. Her piercing blue eyes bounced with flirty mischief, giving her smile a scheming air to it.


    ¡°I¡¯m with May on this one, though.¡± Another voice spoke up. It was identical to the last girl¡¯s, but quieter and more honest. The owner of the voice sat up, forcing Corvus to double take. She was identical to the other girl, pale skin, platinum hair, piercing eyes, everything. The only difference they had was that one looked flirty and playful, while the other seemed quiet and reserved.


    ¡®Not to mention that one has a man practically wrapped around her.¡¯ Corvus mused.


    ¡°Oh? How so?¡± May sat back up, holding her chin in her hands, curiously.


    ¡°Well, um¡­I prefer Damian as well.¡± She tried to hide the growing red on her face.


    Unfortunately for both May and Damian, they had both decided to rehydrate at that exact moment.


    They both choked and sprayed water through the air, half covering Jack, who did not take it well, getting up and leaving to change. After the pair had recovered from their coughing fits they tried to speak up.


    ¡°We (cough) aren¡¯t¡ª¡± Damian started.


    ¡°We aren''t (cough) like that¡ª¡± May shook her head, restarting her coughing.


    ¡°We¡¯re just (cough) you know¡ª¡± Damian stopped trying to speak, instead taking laboured breaths to clear his throat.


    ¡°Just friends! Partners, y¡¯know? Right? Aria?¡± May panted, her face practically glowing red as she looked over to the mischievous of the two twins.


    ¡°Oh? I wouldn''t know.¡± She smirked, feigning ignorance in a dramatic fashion.


    In response, May only blushed harder, moving her seat to the floor to avoid eye contact with Damian, who was still trying to clear his throat and hide his ever reddening face. Henrith and Aria burst into laughter, slapping their legs, rolling on their backs and clutching their sides.


    ¡°I guess we all know who Lanya likes now.¡± Henrith grinned at the quieter twin, holding up his hands in a heart shape around her and the still coughing Damian.


    This immediately sent a buzz through Lanya as her face rose in surprise then immediately fell down into defensive anger.


    ¡°No, I just said that I would prefer a muscle-head like him over a moron like you.¡± She spat back, her gaze hardening on Henrith, who fell back in mock injury. Aria took this as her cue to start gasping for breath, beating the floor with her fist in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. Damian drew his knees into his chest, hugging them for respite.


    ¡°Can we please change the subject?¡± Damian pleaded quietly.


    ¡°Nope.¡± Aria breathed, her fits of laughter subsiding. She lifted her head towards the other side of the room, where Corvus could see the vague outline of the last figure, who had so far stayed silent besides the occasionally uncontrollable burst of a chuckle. ¡°How about you, Johanna? Any of these lovely fellows tickle your fancy?¡± Aria asked, over-eloquently.


    The figure shifted slightly, looking towards Aria.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say. I haven¡¯t seen them fight yet.¡± Johanna seemed to shrug. Her features were difficult to define from the shadowy orange light. Her skin blended perfectly into the darkened corner where she was sitting, the same red/black hue as Cleo¡¯s. Her eyes flashed into view, showing deep pools of solemn, ruby red. She pushed a strand of black hair out of her face, returning her eyes to the fire.


    The rest of the group were silent for a few seconds. Henrith burst out laughing, sitting up in his knees and counting his fingers.


    ¡°That makes, what? Seven times?¡± He tried to encourage his memory but he couldn''t seem to find an answer.


    ¡°Nine, actually.¡± Jack said, coming back into the room, a set of purple pyjamas thinly covering his muscles. He directed a scowl at May and Damian, walking back toward his seat. ¡°Three sentences when we first met each other, four when the twins arrived, one last weekend and now.¡±


    Aria whistled, eyeing Jack jokingly.


    ¡°Not leaving much to the imagination, huh?¡± She pretended to swoon, causing Lanya to blush and bring out a book to bury herself in.


    ¡°I¡¯m not the one who¡¯s wearing a miner like a coat.¡± Jack sighed, shaking his head indignantly. He went to sit down, flashing his eyes to the doorway where Corvus was standing. Their eyes met briefly, causing Jack to jump and let out a high-pitched squeal in fear.


    The group was instantly alert, looking directly at Corvus. He waved casually.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Henrith shot his words out like daggers, standing up.


    ¡°Corvus.¡±


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Damian got to his feet beside Henrith, though the height difference made this rather comical.


    ¡°Nothing at the moment.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have somewhere else to be?¡± Aria asked, sitting up, groaning.


    ¡°Not right now, no.¡±


    ¡°How long have you been standing there?¡± Lanya asked, sinking back into her mattress, into the defensive arms of May.


    ¡°A while.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything?¡± Jack asked, slightly deepening his voice to make up for his squeal.


    The conversation would¡¯ve continued like this for hours if Corvus wasn¡¯t focusing on Johanna, who was walking towards him slowly. The rest of the group also took movement as something unusual, looking at her with confusion. She stared at Corvus, looking him up and down in assessment. The silence grew tense as she got close to him. They were about the same height, allowing her to look him straight in the eye.


    She continued walking forward until she was so close that any normal person would be uncomfortable. Corvus continued eyeing her, cautiously.


    ¡°Evening.¡± Corvus said, as she took another step forward. Another step and their noses would be touching.


    Johanna stayed silent, looking into his eyes searchingly.


    Suddenly she smiled. Not teasingly, or maliciously, but understanding and friendly. She extended her left hand in greeting, her red eyes blinked sadly.


    ¡°Johanna. A pleasure.¡± She spoke softly.


    Corvus took her hand, shaking it slowly.


    ¡°Corvus. Likewise.¡±


    The pair stayed still for several moments of silence, staring at each other. Corvus couldn''t tell why, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes about something familiar, something strong.


    May cleared her throat, snapping the pair out of their greeting.


    ¡°Sorry to break you two apart, but what¡¯s going on?¡± She asked, scratching her head in confusion, still with a protective hand in front of Lanya.


    ¡°And where''s Gregory? He said he¡¯d be here soon to introduce us to someone new¡±. Aria spoke slowly and clearly, also shielding her twin sister.


    Corvus dropped Johanna¡¯s hand, scratching his head.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a long story.¡±

 Chapter 20: Nesting In

    The group sat back on their comfortable seats, eyeing Corvus cautiously as he began to explain who he was and why the change in form. At every point possible Corvus told the truth in its fullest, but he decided that it was best to hide some of the more violent details. If he was going to trust them, like Cleo had advised him, they would need to trust him, which would be hard if they knew everything about him and what he could do.


    He explained that he couldn¡¯t remember much before he woke up in his ruined home up north, beaten and bloody, and how he left to the forest to follow a dream that he had about green weapons and black magic to the south. When he got to the part where he met Cleo, his throat caught slightly. He needed to bend the truth even further than he wanted to keep up his ruse of normality.


    ¡°You were saying?¡± Henrith leaned forward, squinting his eyes in suspicion.


    ¡°Right. Yeah.¡± Corvus took a breath.


    Corvus lied about his and Cleo¡¯s first encounter, stating that when he attacked her, she almost killed him in an instant, saved only when she realised he was a death-wielded as well.


    And from this, the lies kept flowing out.


    He lied about everything she told him, saying that she wouldn¡¯t talk to him about anything besides the journey ahead. He lied when he told them about the bandits, and how she killed them all while Corvus stood dumbfounded and watched. He lied about his curse, and how Cleo had helped him run away from a terrifying creature but couldn¡¯t stop the magic from hitting him.


    The rest was easier to explain, because he didn¡¯t really do much while he was unconscious and walking the final few days to Desperius and how his curse almost killed him just as they arrived.


    The story hung in the air for several moments of silence, not a sound passing over the shocked faces of all but Johanna, who was peering into his eyes expectedly, as if sensing that there was more to the story.


    ¡°Well,¡± Aria broke the silence, clapping her hands together in finality, making Lanya jump in surprise. ¡°That''s all well and good, but why didn¡¯t Gregory come and introduce you to us like he did with the rest of us?¡± She raised a slightly bored eyebrow.


    ¡°Oh. He was irritating me so I broke his finger and left.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    ¡°You¡­did what?¡± May stood, slightly slack-jawed. ¡°You do know that he¡¯s in charge, right?¡±


    ¡°And that he¡¯s, like, really powerful?¡± Damian added, similarly a-gasp.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean I have to like him. I did warn him, to be fair.¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow.


    Jack stood up, clearing his throat.


    ¡°Well. As much as I can tolerate the ¡®devil may care¡¯ attitude that you seem to be acquainted with, it is not one that we need any more of. Henrith here is already pushing me a little far.¡± He jabbed an irritated thumb at Henrith, who was uncharacteristically quiet. ¡°So, if you would please behave and learn to be polite, that would be greatly appreciated.¡± He smiled, though there was no attempt at warmth.


    Corvus stood up, levelling his eyes with Jack¡¯s. The two were about the same height, but Jack¡¯s hair made him seem a few inches taller.


    ¡°Point taken, Jack.¡± Corvus emphasised his last word.


    Jack¡¯s face reddened with shock and anger.


    ¡°What? My name isn¡¯t Jack! It¡¯s¡ª¡± Jack began.


    ¡°Jacque Neutrialis Rivielle VIII. I know. I heard.¡± Corvus interrupted, raising an eyebrow.


    Jack said nothing, his face flaring with anger and speechless humiliation. He took his seat again, quietly looking down at the floor.


    Laughter erupted from the other side of the room, cutting through the tension with ease. Henrith got to his feet, a smile spreading over his face. He strode over to Corvus, towering over everyone in the room with his size. He extended a friendly hand.


    ¡°Name¡¯s Henrith, buddy. Gotta say, I like you so far.¡± His deep, goofy voice had a hint of grizzled weariness. If what Jack said about him being a miner was true, then he was obviously an experienced one.


    Corvus took his hand, shaking it in greeting. Henrith laughed, slapping Corvus on the shoulder heartily. It was different to Gregory, less overbearing and warm, instead honest and joking. Corvus would take Henrith instead of Gregory any day.


    ¡°I¡¯m inclined to agree.¡± Aria spoke up, getting to her feet and bouncing beside Henrith. The two an exchanged affectionate glance, giving Henrith his cue to sit down again.


    Corvus and Aria shook hands, less vigorously than with Henrith but still firm and confidant. A glint of mischief passed in her eyes, giving Corvus a distinct sense that he would need to keep his guard up around her. Several fingers touched the side of Corvus¡¯ head, causing him to drop Aria¡¯s hand and turn his head. He was face to face with Lanya, who was surprised at the speed he moved, falling onto her back.


    Aria and Henrith let out a laugh, high-giving each other. The rest of the group just rolled their eyes as Lanya got to her feet and brushed her knees.


    ¡°Sorry. I just wanted to look at your scars.¡± She apologised quietly.


    ¡°Scars?¡± Corvus took a few moments to wonder what she was talking about. As far as he knew, he didn¡¯t have any scars besides his cursed hand. He didn¡¯t have any from before all this craziness as far as he knew. Then it hit him. The sides of his head. The scars from when he put a bullet through his own head. The webs of cracked lines were mostly hidden by his dark hair, but they were still noticeable if you looked closely enough.


    ¡°Oh. Right. Those.¡± Corvus touched them absently. He glanced over to Lanya, who was bowing her head in shame. Corvus patted her head, much to her surprise and shock. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. They don¡¯t hurt.¡±


    Her face lifted with a slight red hue.


    "Where did you get them?" Lanya eyed them, shyly.


    The memory of the bloodied pistol laying on the ground of the workshop flashed into Corvus'' mind. It would probably be safer to lie about that as well.


    "I don''t remember." Corvus lied, shrugging.


    She averted her eyes but extended her hand nonetheless. Corvus went to shake her hand, trying to ignore the burning stares from Aria and May. Though the twins had very defined differences, the bond they shared was still strong. As for May, her and the quieter twin had a strong bond of their own, though Corvus couldn¡¯t tell what kind. He¡¯d guess sisterhood.


    ¡°Now now, don¡¯t go too far.¡± May spoke up, shuffling in between Corvus and Lanya with a protective smile. ¡°Hi. I''m Marilyn Surpost, but just call me May, everyone does.¡± She extended her hand, while glancing back to see if Lanya was ok. Corvus shook her hand, curious as to why she was so protective over Lanya.


    ¡°Why am I always left until last?¡± Damian chuckled, scratching his head in embarrassment.


    May¡¯s face dropped in surprise. She dropped Corvus¡¯ hand and turned to Damian.


    ¡°Oh. I''m sorry Damian, really I am.¡± She began, taking a few steps towards him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry yourself. It¡¯s no bother, really.¡± He held up his hand, getting to his feet. He stretched, rippling his muscles under his cotton shirt before walking up to May. He held his hand up like a target. May smiled, head butting his hand and collapsing on the mattress with a childish whee.


    Damian smiled, pushing his fringe out of his eyes and lifting his right hand in greeting. Corvus looked down at the hand, turning his arm to shake hands upside down. Noticing his mistake too late, Damian¡¯s face turned bright red and he tried and failed to recover with words.


    Henrith and Aria chuckled to themselves, causing Damian to blush further and retake his seat, where May comforted his embarrassment with a pat to his back. Henrith looked slightly guilty at Damian¡¯s face, smiling apologetically.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Right, where were we? Oh yes. Damian¡¯s dream diary!¡± Aria broke the silence, smiling mischievously at Damian, who buried his head in his hands again.


    ¡°Why does it always come back to me?¡± Damian whined, falling onto his back and looking at the sparkling felias on the ceiling.


    ¡°Because you are the most entertaining muscle-head in heels we know.¡± May offered, trying to be serious before losing herself to fits of uncontrollable laughter. The rest of the room, Johanna not included, followed suit, howling with laughter at something they had seen before. Even Damian found himself laughing with the others at himself.


    All the while, Corvus watched with curiosity, watching the jovial faces that surrounded him. He wondered what they meant, Damian clearly wasn''t wearing heels, in fact he was barefoot. These were supposed to be his new friends. He was glad it was them. They were more entertaining to be around than Gilgamesh and definitely more than Gregory and the rest of his group and the rest of Desperius. A chuckle echoed inside him. Cleo had saved him again.


    ¡°How about it, Corvus?¡± Henrith called, raising an eyebrow at him.


    ¡°How about what?¡± Corvus tilted his head in mild confusion.


    ¡°Well, the girls have talked about their fancies. That makes it our turn now.¡± Henrith smirked towards the other boys, who were desperately trying to find an excuse to leave.


    ¡°Sorry, I-I¡¯ve got to uh¡ª¡± Damian stammered, getting to his feet faster than humanly possible.


    ¡°Oh my, is that the time?¡± Jack checked a clock that wasn¡¯t there and began to walk towards the dorms.


    ¡°See you in the morning!¡± Damian practically jogged towards his room, closing the door with a blur.


    ¡°Likewise.¡± Jack tripped over his feet through the door of his room, disappearing behind the stone door.


    Henrith and Aria howled with laughter, tearing up with the strain on their lungs. May was stifling a laugh, trying desperately to stop for fear of offending Damian further. Lanya hid her face behind her book, but it was clear that she was having similar fits of laughter. Johanna was still smiling quietly at Corvus, who was observing the laughter curiously.


    ¡°Not many boys to play with now, huh.¡± May tried to clear her throat but only laughed a little more.


    ¡°Totally worth it.¡± Aria wiped a tear from her eye and sat back up. ¡°So, Corvus. What do you look for in a girl?¡± She smirked slyly at him.


    Corvus was about to answer, but his throat caught. The image of a pale girl, flowing silver hair and deep amber eyes fluttered in his mind, stopping his mouth from moving.


    ¡°Oh come on.¡± Henrith interjected, noticing the change in Corvus. ¡°He¡¯s been travelling with that lass, Cleo for, what was it? A month? That length of time with someone like her is bound to give a man at least a few feelings. She''s one of the three Swallows in this place, after all.¡± Henrith chuckled to himself, giving Corvus the ghost of a wink to encourage him. Corvus nodded his thanks, giving Henrith an even wider smile.


    ¡°Fair point. She is gorgeous.¡± Aria noted, nodding along.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about making some advances of my own.¡± Henrith mused, smirking at Aria. She gasped dramatically and slapped his shoulders playfully, laughing all the while.


    ¡°Really? You like older women?¡± Corvus tilted his head in confusion.


    ¡°What are you implying about me?¡± Aria raised an accusatory eyebrow.


    ¡°Older? She can¡¯t be more than 25, surely?¡± Henrith returned the look of confusion.


    ¡°She¡¯s 42.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    ¡°What?¡± The entire room chorused with that single word. Even Johanna looked a little shocked.


    ¡°But¡­How?¡± Lanya looked down at her hands in stunned thought.


    ¡°She looks younger than me, damnit.¡± May held her head in her hands, as if nursing a headache.


    ¡°What does she use?¡± Aria pulled away from Henrith, looking up at the sparkling ceiling.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­impressive.¡± Johanna whispered to herself.


    Corvus and Henrith exchanged glances.


    ¡°I think we broke them.¡± Henrith mumbled, staring at the awe-struck girls.


    ¡°My bad.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    There was a loud knock at the stone door that led into the room, snapping the girls out of their existential crisis.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it.¡± Henrith leapt to his feet and jogged to the door. Corvus sat still, mirroring the guarded expression on each of the Girl¡¯s faces.


    Several seconds of silence passed. Then came Henrith¡¯s voice and another, familiar voice speaking in quiet conversation. Henrith reappeared from the porch.


    ¡°Corvus, it¡¯s for you, bud.¡± He motioned over his shoulder with a surprise look on his face and tone in his voice.


    Corvus got to his feet, preparing himself for the inevitable slaughter that would come with injuring Gregory. He clenched his left fist, striding forward. He passed Henrith, who was slightly confused by the speed Corvus was moving but let him pass.


    When Corvus entered the porch, there was a familiar figure in the large stone doorway. Corvus¡¯ feet wavered. He wanted to keep walking forward, but seeing her again, up close made him falter slightly.


    Cleo had taken her apron off in the time since he had last seen her, replacing it with a set of black, formal clothes. Her jacket and trousers were both jet black, and she had a soft black fur cloak draped over her shoulders attached by a golden chain at her neck. Her face was more pristine than ever before, her emerald eyes glinting in the shadows. There was a slight hint of a smile on her face that vanished in an instant.


    She bowed her head slightly, reaching into her cloak for something. She produced a large, heavy wooden box that she needed two hands to hold. She offered it to Corvus, who grabbed hold of it with his one good hand and held it against his side. It must¡¯ve been three feet long, and one foot deep and wide. Judging by her raised eyebrow, it was supposed to be heavy.


    ¡°A delivery from the smith.¡± She spoke low and stoically, not moving an inch besides what was necessary.


    ¡°Thank you, Cleo.¡± Corvus nodded his head, just as she told him to do.


    ¡°Also, a message from the Lord. You are to receive disciplinary action for your behaviour earlier today. You can receive it from the Lord himself in the arena, or from myself here and now.¡±


    Corvus stared at her. She was speaking like a stone. No emotion anywhere. A small pang of sadness went through his mind.


    ¡°I¡¯ll receive it here.¡± Corvus nodded at her, closing his eyes when she began to raise her hand.


    The impact never came, instead a light touch on his chest. He opened his eyes, looking down to see her fist, barely touching him just above his arm. Her eyes changed, her normal self returning for a moment.


    ¡°I thought I told you to behave.¡± She sighed, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.


    ¡°You should know me well enough to know that I can¡¯t promise that.¡± Corvus shrugged at her apologetically.


    ¡°Please. Don''t do it again.¡± She chuckled.


    ¡°If you say so.¡± He raised an eyebrow.


    Her eyes blinked a few more times, the friendly gaze that she had held for months was tired. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. When she opened her eyes, it wasn¡¯t the same Cleo that looked back.


    She nodded, striding back down the corridor, her cloak billowing out behind her, further shrouding her in darkness.


    Corvus could only stand there, watching where she once was and remembering her gaze. He hesitated, then turned around and closed the stone door behind him. He was faced with the peering eyes of Henrith, Aria, May and Johanna staring down the porch towards him. Corvus raised an eyebrow at them.


    ¡°Is there any reason you¡¯re all looking at me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Henrith nodded.


    ¡°Definitely.¡± Aria agreed.


    ¡°And that is?¡± Corvus tilted his head.


    ¡°Are you sure that you two have no relationship?¡± Aria leaned on her elbows.


    ¡°Certain.¡±


    ¡°Worth a try.¡± Henrith chuckled to himself.


    Corvus looked towards the rooms, trying to figure out which belonged to him.


    ¡°Last door on the left.¡± May called, noticing his confusion.


    ¡°Cheers.¡± Corvus called back, walking towards the room.


    The stone doors that lined the small corridor were perfectly uniform, save for the green writing that was etched into the surface. After a few seconds of looking at the writing, the letters twisted and shifted into Damian¡¯s name. With several other glances, the letters all shifted back into place, revealing the names of everyone¡¯s rooms. The last door on the left was purely black, without any form of writing on it.


    Corvus placed the box on the ground, then pressed his hand on the smooth stone. The door rumbled, creeping open slowly. The room was steeped in darkness, different from the void that was in the other doors. There were no green lights inside, no fluttering felias and no life at all, but only a constant low hum. Corvus looked towards the floor, his eyes widening slightly.


    There was a line of black runes just behind the door. Corvus looked to his sling, recognising the same runes.


    ¡°It seems they¡¯re faster than you thought.¡± Gilgamesh noted, leaning against Johanna¡¯s door.


    Corvus ignored him, picking the box back up and striding into the darkness of his new room.


    Immediately, there was a flash of green light on the door that caught Corvus¡¯ eye. He turned to see ¡®Corvus¡¯ seep out of the stone in green light. The door began to swing shut, slowly shrinking the beam of orange light, abandoning Corvus to the deep shadows.


    A hand reached out and stopped the door from closing completely. It pushed the door open again, letting the orange light in once more. The dark figure walked in, its bright ruby eyes glinting towards him. It held the door open with its foot, letting enough light in.


    It reached into its pocket, pulling out a glinting candle and tinderbox, offering them to Corvus.


    ¡°I thought you¡¯d want some light.¡± Johanna¡¯s voice was low and soft.


    Corvus put down his box, reaching his hand out and receiving the gifts.


    ¡°Johanna, thank¡ª¡± Corvus began.


    She put a finger to his lips, stopping him from finishing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me.¡± She whispered, reaching her other arm out and wrapping them around the back of his neck so that she was hugging him. ¡°Just promise that you¡¯ll invite me in here when you want to tell me who you really are, Corvus.¡± She leaned forward, so he could feel her breath on his face.


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to hide ourselves from each other.¡± Her voice was so quiet that Corvus could barely hear it.


    She released her arms, slowly turning around and walking back to the door. She stopped and glanced back at the confused and slightly dumbfounded Corvus with a slightly sad smile.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget to light your candle.¡± Her ruby eyes disappeared behind the closing door.


    The light vanished entirely, leaving pure darkness.


    There was a spark. Another spark. Then another.


    The candle lit up the room, producing a hypnotic, unnaturally bright orange light. The candle itself was made of black wax with small glints of gemstone in it, seemingly appearing and disappearing at will.


    Corvus put the candle down on a nearby table and collapsed onto the chair that came with it. His mind was reeling from what just happened, trying to make sense of it in any way possible.


    ¡®What was she talking about? Hide what? Did she know I was lying? Why did she hug me?¡¯ Corvus¡¯ mind raced as he tried to think. As if on cue, Gilgamesh appeared to interrupt that train of thought.


    ¡°Well. That was fun.¡±

 Chapter 21: Settling In for a Fight

    Corvus lost track of the passage of time while he was sitting in that chair. He couldn¡¯t think of anything but what Johanna had said, and what she was talking about. His mind raced, thinking about hundreds of different things that she could have possibly meant, and how to respond to each of them.


    ¡°Cabin boy!¡± Gilgamesh shouted, snapping Corvus out of his worries.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Corvus turned his gaze to Gilgamesh, who had a rather tired look on his face.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to get your attention for half an hour now.¡± His soothing voice was steeped in irritation.


    ¡°Really? Huh.¡± Corvus looked down to the stone floor. ¡°How long have I been sitting here?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, there''s no way to tell in here.¡± Gilgamesh shrugged in annoyance.


    ¡°Then how do you know that it¡¯s been half an¡ª¡±. Corvus began, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°I just know, ok?¡± Gilgamesh crossed his arms in indignant annoyance.


    ¡°You''re like a kid.¡± Corvus shook his head, getting to his feet. ¡°What did you want?¡±


    Gilgamesh straightened, looking around the room with a bored look on his face. He motioned towards the walls and then the wooden box that Cleo had given Corvus.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been sitting here for who knows how long. Don''t you think you should become familiar with your new room? Maybe find out what secrets Cleo gave you?¡± Gilgamesh chuckled to himself, lazily walking towards the far wall to find something to lounge on.


    Corvus blinked. He only just realised that he had no idea what his room was like. He¡¯d been so focused on overthinking Johanna¡¯s words that he didn¡¯t even know the basic contents of his room.


    He turned his eyes to the candle that Johanna gave him. The pitch-black wax of the candle had not melted even slightly, and the small glinting stones within it were blinking in and out of view seemingly randomly. It''s flame was large and bright, so bright in fact that it illuminated the entire room just as much as the fireplace did in the last room.


    Corvus reached out to touch the flame, passing his fingers through the flame. The fire swam over his fingers, providing a sense of loose comfort as Corvus saw the burns fade away again and again.


    Corvus tore his gaze from the candle, observing the room. It was relatively small compared to the other sights within Desperius, being no larger than fifteen feet long and wide. It was made of the same black stone as everything else, yet there were no roots like the rest of the fortress.


    It was rather simple and small, yet very well furnished. His bed was a low, comfortable looking straw mattress covered in fluffy rugs and furs. It was the same as the ones that the others had by the fire, so it was probably well worth lounging on, which Gilgamesh seemed to agree with, as he began to snore the moment his face hit the straw pillow.


    The table that Corvus had laid the candle was in fact a small study desk with a small, neat stack of blank scroll paper beside a quill and empty pot of ink. Corvus turned away from the bright light, towards the flickering shapes in the room.


    There was a large cupboard on a far wall which, upon closer inspection by Corvus, contained several sets of clothes, some were light pyjamas like the ones he was wearing, some were more solid day clothes. After rifling through the immaculate wardrobe, Corvus saw a familiar sight out the corner of his eye. His jacket and trousers, perfectly repaired and cleaned were lying to the side.


    Corvus felt a tug in his chest, as he brushed his hand over the material. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was still one of the few things that he had to remind him of who he once was. A particularly loud snort from Gilgamesh brought a scowl back to Corvus¡¯ face, who was trying very hard to not wring the spectre¡¯s neck.


    Corvus closed the wardrobe, scanning what remained of the room. There was another small chest next to the far wall, shrouded in the shadow of the candle¡¯s receding light. Corvus eyed the chest carefully, walking slowly towards it. The wood was fairly old, with slightly rusted metal edges with black runes quietly pulsing.


    He placed his left hand on the metal clasp at the front, slowly levering it open. The lid of the chest creaked as Corvus peered inside. He couldn¡¯t see anything inside, so decided to open it a little further. There was nothing inside. Just a simple wooden chest with a creaking lid.


    Disappointed, Corvus closed the lid and walked back to the small desk. He turned his gaze to the box that Cleo had given him. He grabbed it with some difficulty with his single hand, placing it down onto the desk.


    ¡°You know, cabin boy, you can take that sling off now.¡± Gilgamesh turned over, blinking the black out of his eyes and returning to sleep.


    Corvus paused, his left hand flying up to his wrist, defensively. The thought of removing his only safety net hadn¡¯t even crossed his mind. Yes, there was the ring of runes that surrounded his room that was supposed to stop all the nature magic from coming in, but someone could¡¯ve made a mistake. Someone could have sabotaged it. Someone could be trying to kill him right now and he could do nothing to stop it.Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Calm down!¡± Gilgamesh was sat bolt upright, his shifty eyes dark and piercing.


    Corvus looked at him, confused.


    ¡°Look at yourself, damn it.¡± Gilgamesh brought his head down into his hand, shaking it.


    Corvus looked down, and caught his breath. He was shaking. Not just quivering, or slightly shivering, but shaking completely, like a leaf in a hurricane. He reached out and steadied himself on the desk, his breaths ragged and terrified. Corvus¡¯ legs gave out, collapsing down beside the chair.


    ¡°You fool. You are safe here. You do know that?¡± Gilgamesh scanned his face, his shifting eyes unreadable.


    Corvus took several ragged breaths, trying to quell the pounding in his chest.


    ¡°I''m not¡­taking it off.¡± Corvus managed, his voice weak and quivering.


    Gilgamesh sighed, lying back down on his bed, his face guarded and restrained.


    ¡°Fine. At least finish exploring your ¡®new home¡¯ before you collapse again.¡± Gilgamesh spat the words, distastefully.


    Corvus nodded weakly, pulling himself back to his feet, the candle-light shining back on his face.


    He tested his legs, making sure that he wouldn''t collapse again, carefully stepping towards the wooden box on his desk. It was simple, dark wood with no defining features whatsoever, save for a small copper latch on the lid. After s few seconds of fiddling, the lid popped open, opening in silence.


    Corvus¡¯ mouth opened, but no sound came out.


    The twin cutlasses that he had seen in the weapon room lay in front of him, their black sheathes polished and their round basket guards replaced with a simple rounded disc that fitted over the top of his hand perfectly. There was a ring on the bottom of each pommel, larger than the rings used for display, but not so large that it affected their balance. The blades had been shortened slightly, each about 2 feet long including the handle, for easier manoeuvrability.


    There was a small sack sitting at one side of the box, a note pinned to the cloth. Corvus reached in and pulled the note free, holding it in front of the candle so it was easy to read.


    Corvus,


    During your time unconscious, I studied your gun and its ammunition, in the hopes that I could replicate them. I have been unsuccessful in recreating the gun, however I did my best to get you some additional ammunition. It is not of the quality that you previously had, however I am confidant that it will do the job. There is also a piece of leather beneath the bag that you will need. Press it against the chest in your room and all will be clear.


    Stay safe, and welcome to Desperius.


    Cleo


    Reading Cleo¡¯s words gave Corvus some sense of comfort. He could almost hear her comforting yet serious voice speaking to him as he read it. He gently lifted the pair of blades out the box and onto the desk, careful not to let them roll around so to not damage them unnecessarily. He lifted the sack carefully, feeling the weight and roll of each individually packaged bullet.


    Indeed, there was a small piece of light leather beneath the sack, a twisted dark rune emblazoned on the front. It was no larger than Corvus¡¯ palm, but it felt noticeably heavier than regular leather. Striding back towards the chest, Corvus placed the leather down on the chest, holding it in place, creaking the hinges slightly.


    The wood creaked even further, shuddering slightly as its contents seemed to warp within. Corvus held the leather steady, his curiosity mounting more and more. The sounds stopped in an instant, refilling the room with silence, save for Gilgamesh¡¯s loud snore. Corvus tilted his head, lifting the leather scrap back up.


    It was wrinkled and wispy, cracking at the slightest movement. The rune that it once had was gone, replaced with a thin layer of charcoal. The rune flashed to life on the chest, adding its gentle pulse to the rhythm set by the perimeter of dark letters.


    Corvus reached for the clasp that held the lid shut, tugging it carefully. It didn¡¯t move. He tried again, harder than before, sting nothing. Corvus was about to break the chest open as the irritation mounted, but Gilgamesh chimed in.


    ¡°Push, not pull.¡± Gilgamesh called out wearily.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow, pushing the lock into the chest.


    The lock sprung open, causing the lid to fly open at incredible speed. Corvus looked into the chest, the dark empty wood replaced by an expansive void. There was a faraway knocking sound, then there was something coming out of the chasm. Something large. Large and fast.


    Corvus backed off moments before a hurricane of wood and steel took his head off.


    Loud clanking and slamming of wooden panels followed, the clinking of steel and rattling of chains coming soon after. Racks and displays finally took shape in front of Corvus. Gilgamesh was roused by the noise, staring at the spectacle, a smile spreading over his face.


    The noises stopped, the true contents of the chest revealed. It was a mini armoury, though it was mostly empty, that spread all over the wall that it was pressed against.


    There was a rack that held Corvus¡¯ weapon belt, fully stocked with gleaming knives and new leather loops to hold his cutlasses. Beside it was Raven, in her holster, pristine and clean.


    There were several bundles of clothes on a separate shelf, various levels of armour hanging beside it with everything from light padding to a full set of plate. It all looked about Corvus¡¯ size, even the steel plated chest.


    Several racks of blades hung low to the ground, with everything from small, concealed daggers to great swords that were taller than him.


    Gilgamesh whistled.


    ¡°Not half bad for a personal armoury, is it?¡± He chuckled, checking his hair in the armour.


    Corvus pulled Raven from her holster, pulling open the barrel to chest for rounds. After he made sure she was empty, Corvus sighed, stumbling towards the mattress. Gilgamesh voiced his concerns, but Corvus wasn¡¯t listening. His body was beginning to give out, and he wanted to be lying down when it did.


    He collapsed onto the straw, keeping his right arm off the ground and letting out a breath into the air. He turned onto his left side, hugging Raven close to his chest as his eyes fluttered closed and deep sleep engulfed him.


    ***


    Corvus sat bolt upright, the loud knocking on his door echoed through the room like a church bell.


    Corvus got to his feet, holding Raven close. Henrith¡¯s voice echoed from outside.


    ¡°Corvus?! You awake, Buddy?!¡± His shouting voice was almost unbearably loud.


    ¡°I am now!¡± Corvus called back, placing Raven on the table beside the still-burning and still-unmelted candle. Corvus stretched, his back cracking.


    ¡°Oh! Great! Hey, good news!¡± Henrith laughed loudly.


    ¡°Good enough to wake me up?¡± Corvus grumbled, cracking the tension out of his neck.


    ¡°Yep. Apparently, we¡¯re starting training early!¡± Henrith sounded ecstatic.


    ¡°Really? How early?¡± Corvus raised his eyebrows in surprise.


    ¡°Why do you think I¡¯m getting you up?¡± Henrith¡¯s laugh was extremely contagious.


    ¡°Today?¡±


    ¡°Now! C¡¯mon, get your fighting stuff! First lesson is in about 10 minutes!¡±

 Chapter 22: Preparations

    Corvus sighed in irritation as he tried to pull his clothes off over his sling, but the ribbons stayed firmly in place.  He was seriously contemplating either tearing them off or going to fight with his thin, white pyjamas on.  The constant ¡®encouragement¡¯ from Henrith did nothing to help ease these impulses.


    ¡°Come on, come on!  We don''t want to leave you behind so soon!¡±  Henrith chuckled from the other side of the door.


    Corvus knew Henrith wasn¡¯t trying to antagonise him, but he was succeeding nonetheless.


    ¡°Just go on ahead, I¡¯ll catch up.¡±. Corvus called back, scowling at his stubborn shirt.


    ¡°Not happening.  I promised I¡¯d bring you to the colosseum and I¡¯ll be damned if I don¡¯t!¡±  Henrith laughed.  ¡°Then again, I¡¯m not the kind to rush you.  Take your time, I¡¯ll be at the door.¡±  The sound of his footsteps got quieter and quieter as Henrith strolled away.


    ¡°Tugging at that thing won¡¯t help either of you, cabin boy.¡±  Gilgamesh sighed, lounging on the desk.


    ¡°Then what will?¡±  Corvus scowled at him.


    ¡°Take it off.  There is no nature magic in here, just like the infirmary.  It¡¯s safe.¡±  Gilgamesh spoke slowly, as if talking to a child.


    ¡°It¡¯s not safe!¡±  Corvus shouted, much to Gilgamesh¡¯s surprise.  ¡°It¡¯ll kill me if I do anything wrong.  It¡¯ll kill me if I take this thing off.¡±  Corvus¡¯ voice became weaker as he sank to his knees, clutching his restrained arm to his chest.


    ¡°It¡¯s no time to act like a scared child!  If you can¡¯t learn to accept that you¡¯re protected here, I¡¯ll make you!¡±  Gilgamesh¡¯s voice shattered through the room, his eyes shining like infinite wells of black.  He reached out his hand, passing it through Corvus¡¯ head.  At first Corvus was confused, staring at Gilgamesh¡¯ focussed and concentrated face.


    Moments later, Corvus began to convulse, his throat spasmed and his chest constricted as a word tried to escape him.  Corvus clutched the ground, trying to fight back, but there was no fighting a power as oppressive as his.


    ¡°R-Re¡­l¡­en¡­t.¡±  The word croaked out of Corvus¡¯ mouth, releasing all the tension in his body.  He collapsed to the ground, taking slow, laboured breaths.


    ¡°See?  Not difficult.¡±  Gilgamesh commanded, taking deep breaths of his own.


    Instantly, Corvus looked down to his arm.  The ribbons that had once pinned it to his chest were gone, the blanket that had once encased his arm, laid crumpled on the ground beneath him.  The blackened, twisted flesh of his hand was just as it had been in the infirmary.  The golden bracelet that was protecting his life twinkled at the bottom of his wrist, a few inches from the base of his hand.


    Corvus stared at the curse, emptying and refilling his lungs in tense terror.  He waited for the purple flames to envelop his hand, his arm, the entire room.  He waited for his life to come to an end.


    It didn¡¯t happen.  The cracking charcoal of his hand didn¡¯t flare up.  The purple light in his hand was almost completely gone.  It was just the same as the infirmary.  He had some breathing room here.


    ¡°Breathe later.  Get dressed now.¡±  Gilgamesh sighed, snapping his fingers in front of Corvus to break his terrified wonder.


    Corvus remembered Henrith, getting to his feet and walking to the still-open armoury.


    ¡°Do that again and I¡¯ll kill you.¡±  Corvus spoke quietly.


    ¡°You may try.¡±  Gilgamesh waved the comment away, flopping down on the mattress.


    The piles of clothes that lay in front of Corvus were, upon closer inspection, black combat clothes, complete with extra stretch for extra flexibility.  Corvus threw his thin, white clothes off and threw them back towards the mattress, aiming for Gilgamesh¡¯s head.  He picked up the set of combat clothes and began throwing them on.  Images of himself throwing on clothes with incredible haste as his name was shouted up on deck flashed in his mind, making him waver slightly.


    Corvus shook the feeling off, tying the final strap around his stomach.  He reached for his belt and strapped it around his waist, adjusting the knives to point towards his left side.  He strapped Raven¡¯s holster to his leg, along with the ammo pouch that he filled with Cleo¡¯s new rounds.  He snatched up his cutlasses and slid them into his belt, making sure that he could reach them both with his left hand.


    Corvus began to stride to the door, picking up his sling and Raven on the way.  He stopped just before the door, taking deep breaths as he wrapped up his cursed hand.


    ¡°Support.¡±  The word came out like a breath that had been held for hours.  The ribbons snaked their way around Corvus¡¯ new clothes, finding purchase and binding his hand back to his chest.  With that, Corvus pushed the door open with his shoulder, stepping back out into the lounge.


    With a hesitant glance down to his arm, making absolutely sure that it was safe, he made his way back to the porch.  Henrith was leaning against the wall, tapping a rhythm on his knees out of boredom.  He spotted Corvus, smiling and hopping to his feet.


    ¡°Looking good, buddy!¡±  His beaming smile made Corvus forgive his rude awakening instantly.  He was wearing the same black combat gear as Corvus, except he had remembered to wear some armour, with studded leather covering his arms and chest.  He reached down and picked up a pickaxe which he laid on his shoulder with ease.


    ¡°You too.¡±  Corvus nodded to the pickaxe.  He reached down and strapped his boots on in seconds.


    ¡°Oh, this?¡±  He lifted the tool, examining it.  ¡°What can I say?  It¡¯s what I''m comfortable with.¡±  He shrugged, the jovial look on his face deepened.


    Corvus reached into his pouch, taking two packaged rounds and tearing the thin cloth with his thumb, clicking Raven¡¯s barrels back in her holster and stuffing the rounds in.  Henrith¡¯s eyes widened slightly as Corvus pulled Raven out and snapped her back into place, checking her aim with the new ammunition.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Yeah.  I¡¯m comfortable with this too.¡±  Corvus shrugged, holstering Raven and opening the large stone door, motioning for Henrith to lead the way.  Henrith eyed Raven, chuckling nervously, before striding out into the corridor.


    Corvus joined him, and the pair began to jog down the long, black and green corridor.  The fluttering felias shifted to be out of their path, shifting the green light around them, casting warped shadows across their faces.


    ¡°Here we are.¡±  Henrith announced, stopping in the middle of the corridor, looking towards a bare wall.


    Corvus stopped, raising his eyebrow in confusion.


    ¡°This is a wall, Henrith.  We¡¯re not trying to get to a wall.¡±  Corvus eyed Henrith, trying to see if he was serious.


    ¡°Well noticed.  But this isn¡¯t a wall.¡±  He smirked at Corvus, reaching out his hand and pressing his palm against the rough stone.


    Several seconds passed with Henrith grinning at the wall, expecting something to happen.  His smile vanished instantly, replaced with a mask of pure confusion.


    ¡°Wait.  It was here wasn¡¯t it?¡±  He scratched his head.  ¡°Oh!  Hold on.¡±  He snapped his fingers, taking three steps to his left and placing his hand back on the wall.


    Green light spilled from between his fingers, spreading out into several lines, forming the shape of one of the uniform black stone doors.  Henrith turned to Corvus, a smug smile covering his face.


    ¡°Told you.¡±  He winked at Corvus, shoving the door open and striding into the void that was behind it.


    ¡°Where does this go to?¡±  Corvus tilted his head, following him into the darkness.


    His question was instantly answered by the blinding green light of the coliseum¡¯s braziers.  Corvus blinked the spots out of his eyes.  They were at the same door that Corvus had first come through to get there, at the top of the steps.  The stands were completely full of whispering people of all ages.  Gregory was sat in a black throne opposite Corvus, flanked by Kira and Colton.


    He flashed Corvus a smile, full of his usual warmth but with a hint of apprehension in his eyes.  Colton stared daggers at Corvus, trying to kill him with his eyes.  Kira simply regarded Corvus, no emotion showing whether she wanted him protected or killed.  Corvus searched the stands, but could not find Cleo anywhere.


    ¡°Come on, before they yell at us.¡±  Henrith chuckled, patting Corvus on the back and jogging down the steps.


    Corvus followed, returning a cold stare to Gregory.   There was motion out of the corner of his eye, which drew his attention away from the self-assured aura of Gregory¡¯s ego.   The motion was a wave coming from the children than Corvus had seen upon first arriving in the halls.  They were grinning widely, waving their arms in joyous recognition.  Corvus waved back, further building their excitement, which caused their parents to shush them.


    Another motion caught Corvus¡¯ eye, to his left this time.  It was Daeden, the overenthusiastic blacksmith that was working with Cleo to make his cutlasses earlier.  He was bounding in his seat, giggling with excitement.  Corvus raised an eyebrow and continued onward toward the centre of the giant ring.


    Corvus looked down to the dark sand in the colosseum.  Everyone in his group were standing in a semi-circle around two figures in the centre, one of which was familiar.  There was the short, chiselled man that Corvus had seen overseeing the last group of trainees, his face still locked in a permanent stony scowl.


    Beside him, stood his perfect opposite.  A tall, muscled man whose exposed stomach muscles shone and sparkled in the green light.  His flowing, shoulder length blue hair flapped out behind him, as if he was being blown by a non-existent breeze.  His face oozed vanity and confidence, a self-assured smirk plastered on his face, spreading all the way to his turquoise eyes.


    ¡°Stop gawking and get down here, boy!¡± The short man shouted at Corvus, his red eyes flashing with irritation.  All the eyes in the arena turned to Corvus, an air of impatience growing in the arena.


    Corvus raised his hand in apology, leaping down the steps three at a time.  He reached the sand in seconds, sliding forward a few feet on the warm sand.  Corvus straightened, striding forward to join the rest of his friends.  Aria and Henrith parted, allowing Corvus to stand between them, playful smirks covering both of their faces.


    The short man huffed, turning back to face Gregory, his arms raised, as if to address the entire colosseum.


    ¡°To all of Desperius!¡±  His deep, earthy voice echoed through the stones around the arena.  ¡°These are your new family members!  You will see how they move, how they fight, how they live!  See them and see them well!¡±  The stands started cheering at the group, some even standing up and whistling.


    The taller man raised his hand, quieting the stands almost instantly.


    ¡°My Lord Lias.¡±  The man¡¯s voice was surprisingly high pitched, sounding twenty years younger than how he looked.  ¡°As you well know, it is customary for a demonstration of the peak of skill these young bloods may achieve one day.  It is your decision as to who is the peak of skill, and thus who will set a target for all of us.¡±


    Gregory stood up, his back straight and his head held up high.


    ¡°The peak of skill in Desperius is held by so many wonderful people.  My closest protectors and dearest friends, Kira and Colton, hold the best teamwork and all-round skill.  Our fastest scout and most versatile blacksmith, Cleo, holds the fastest speed and most adaptive skillset.  She is one of the three Swallows in Desperius, and is recognised as our most terrifying warrior, the Dark Cobra.


    ¡°You, Alex,¡± Gregory motioned to the tall man.¡±  ¡°are the most skilled martial fighter in the history of Desperius, not to mention the strides you have helped us make in weapon designs and the fact you are another of the three Swallows.  The title of Weapon-Master suits you perfectly.


    ¡°And last, but far from least, is you, Odere.¡±  Gregory smiled to the small man.  ¡°You are the most experienced fighter without question, and the number of skills and the depth of knowledge you possess are unparalleled.  You deserve the title of Spell-Sword more than any man, and the Swallow talisman that you hold is the best reward we have to give you.¡±


    Throughout the speech, Corvus¡¯ group were whispering to each other, gossiping about what kind of ¡®lesson¡¯ they will see, and who Gregory will call forth to demonstrate.  Jack was leaning in to Lanya, who was clearly not entirely comfortable with it, trying his best to make jokes which didn¡¯t fall flat.  May had a flintlock on her belt, while spinning a short, straight iron bar in her hand absently.


    Damian was shuffling his feet nervously, darting his eyes around to the many people in the colosseum, gripping his shoulders tightly, digging the shields on his wrists into his arms.  Aria and Henrith were trading giggles about Odere¡¯s height and Alex¡¯s hair.  Johanna was staring at Corvus, a large great-sword sticking into the ground beside her, along with several other glints of metal underneath the large, black leather jacket that she wore.


    ¡°As a demonstration,¡± Gregory continued.  ¡°I believe it would be best for you two to lead the training.¡±  He pointed down at Alex and Odere.


    The two men smiled and bowed at Gregory.  The colosseum erupted in applause and cries of appreciation for the upcoming spectacle.


    ¡°Sorry, I wasn¡¯t listening, what¡¯s happening?¡±  Corvus turned to Henrith, eyebrow raised.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening is we have to get out the way, or we¡¯re going to be caught in the crossfire.¡±  His smile was wide and excited.


    ¡°Stop talking.  Start watching.¡±  Aria nudged Corvus with her elbow, gesturing for him to look at the two men.


    Corvus moved his gaze to the teachers, and immediately had to double take.  Both men had taken golden objects out of various pockets and began fitting them to themselves.  Odere had a golden broach, which he fitted to the inside of his shirt, while Alex had a set of golden earrings which he snapped into place, dangling from his earlobes.


    The two men nodded to each other and then to the group, making sure they are safely out of reach.


    Then they went for each other¡¯s throats.

 Chapter 23: The Pinnacle

    Alex crouched, vaulting off the ground and into the air with feline grace. The small flashes of gold on his ears winked at Corvus as he twisted his body to swing a lethal kick at Odere¡¯s neck. Odere shifted his head backwards, dodging the kick by a hairs breadth. At the same time, he gripped onto Alex¡¯s ankle, using its momentum to hop into the air and twist himself beside Alex, aiming to break his nose with a powerful kick of his own.


    Alex braced himself, receiving the kick on his forearms with a bone-breaking crunch. With a grimace on his face, Alex wrapped his one good arm around Odere¡¯s legs, pressing his knee into the old man¡¯s chest as they crashed down onto the dark sand. Odere grunted slightly, darting out from under Alex and taking several laboured breaths as Alex stood up, shaking the pain from his arm.


    The colosseum erupted in cheers, the two men grinned at each other, flexing their muscles. Alex turned to Corvus¡¯ group, giving them a friendly wink, which Lanya blushed towards. Odere rolled his eyes, smiling apologetically at the group. The cheering died down, and the two combatants returned to their stare-down.


    Alex rose his hand towards Odere, spilling green light around his hand. Odere did the same, the emerald glow forming a circle around his forearm. Alex sprinted forward, the glow in his hands subsided, leaving a spinning, ethereal disk of green steel.


    ¡°Chakrams.¡± Damian breathed, his eyes wide with awe.


    Alex threw the small steel ring into the air, catching it almost instantly. When he caught it, he held two instead of one. He threw them up again, and caught them just as fast, twirling his four bladed disks around his hands. He threw one at Odere, who had remained completely stationary and unfazed by Alex¡¯s show. The short man tightened his muscles, an ethereal shield with a sharp, glinting edge bound to his arm.


    Odere stood as tall as he could, striding straight towards the sprinting Alex and the green disk aimed at his head. He swiped it out the air, sending it clattering to the ground, and continued his confidently slow pace forward. Alex threw the rest of his chakrams at Odere, one after the other at such a rate that he started throwing them at the start of one stride and having none left to throw by the end of it.


    Odere swatted them away like overconfident flies, continuing to stare directly into Alex, who smirked with his usual swagger. He stamped the ground sending himself directly into the air above Odere, scattering soft sand in every direction.


    Odere brought his arm back, flinging the shield towards Alex¡¯s stomach, aiming to cut him in half. Black light spilled from the coiling tattoos on Alex¡¯s right hand, enveloping the shield in a cloak of shadow and sparks. The black light solidified into black, jagged, crystal-like armour, a breastplate, greaves and gauntlets, scratched and gouged from the bladed shield, but still perfectly intact.


    It flew into the air above itself, detaching the shield and snapping into place around Alex¡¯s body. He straightened his body, his flowing hair fluttering as he hurtled straight down towards Odere, who had already summoned a brand new, ethereal green weapon into his left hand. A curved, glassy scimitar, long and deadly. Odere clenched the fist that held the weapon, causing the tattoos on his hand to coil aggressively.


    The green scimitar pulsed as its shadow tore free from the sand, floating up beside Odere, its edge wicked and warped. He snatched the shadow-scimitar out the air, and swung both in unison at Alex¡¯s neck, stepping back slightly to avoid being hit as Alex hurtled down.


    The earrings that were twinkling on Alex¡¯s ears flared to life, emitting a peerless, golden light. He extended his hands to the side, gripping and swinging off a ghostly, golden ledge that hadn¡¯t been there moments before. He swung to the side, using his momentum to gain some distance from Odere, which he used to weave ribbons of emerald light into a small javelin, which he then launched towards Odere.


    Odere slashed at the ethereal spear, shattering his shadowy scimitar against the metal and causing his first sword to vibrate violently as it sent the spear off course. Odere dropped his weapon, making it fade from existence, shaking the pain out his hand. He scowled at Alex who was back on his feet and running towards him.


    Odere raised his right hand, and in an instant, the arena became cold. Large spike of black ice formed around him, growing ever larger and ever more. When there was about ten spikes the size of Corvus¡¯ forearm, Odere launched pointed at Alex, who was already smiling, commanding his ice forward. Alex summoned his chakrams again, duplicating them several times and tossing them at the spikes.


    The whirring blades of the chakrams collided with the lethal spikes of ice, shattering and breaking them both. Two icicles made it through the collision, hurtling towards Alex, who jumped up to meet them. They impacted his black armour, creating a small shockwave and visibly winding Alex, a grimace of pain spreading across his face, though it was hard to tell if he hated it or loved it.


    Alex twisted in the air, coming to the ground with a roll, and began rebuilding his speed towards Odere, who was writing several runes in the air, his hands and eyes darting around at an incredible pace. Alex snatched an ethereal short-sword into existence, his eyes burning with adrenaline. He hopped into the air, bringing his blade back, winding up an earth-shattering strike.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Odere¡¯s eyes focussed on Alex, the black letters in front of him crumbling to dust and then to nothing. Odere raised his hands, summoning his bladed shield and using the tattoos on his left hand to hastily grab the shield¡¯s shadow into his other hand, holding both in the path of Alex¡¯s blade.


    The two summoned weapons collided, sending a shockwave of power through the arena, blowing a cloud of dark sand in every direction. Corvus felt the wave hit him, and stumbled back, his vision blurred and his balance disrupted. Judging by the small chorus of yelps from the crowd, some of them had been knocked over completely.


    Odere was flung back, skidding along the soft sand, and colliding with the dark stone wall with a painful gasp of pain. He grunted as he tried to get to his feet, shaking his dizziness away. His shields were both dented and broken, so he threw them aside and cracked his back, taking lungful of air all the while.


    Alex was taking just as much air in. His acrobatic fighting style and the shockwave from his powerful blow had drained him of much of his energy, though the fiery glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. He held up his sword, bent and misshapen, and tossed it aside into the sand where it faded away. He grinned with determined satisfaction, re-forming his black armour with his right hand and summoning his lance.


    Odere snorted, standing straight and walking slowly forward. He tensed his chiselled muscles, preparing for the next exchange of blows. His golden broach began to hum with power and glow with a faint light. Odere summoned a large, two headed battle-axe, almost as tall as him, and clenched his left hand around the handle.


    The gold of his broach got brighter and more intense. The space around him began to shift and distort, as something came into existence beside him. There seemed to be a glowing haze that covered him, breaking up his outline, warping his figure so that it wasn¡¯t clear where he was standing. The distortions faded, and the arena was silent as the illusion that it created remained, though it was clear that it was no illusion.


    Odere stood beside a perfect copy of himself, slightly greyed and misty, but very capable of passing for a normal person. He picked up his axe¡¯s shadow and handed it to his clone, who received it in his translucent grip, meeting Alex¡¯s gaze with a determined frown.


    Alex chuckled to himself, then began to jog forward, his long lance pointed in front of him like an oversized, yet weightless rapier. His jog turned into a sprint, as he jabbed the lance towards Odere, who smacked the lance aside with the handle of his axe, then bringing it down towards Alex¡¯s head. Alex parried, skidding slightly to the left, then throwing a chakram out of thin air towards his foe.


    Odere¡¯s copy swiped the chakram away with his dark weapon, then leapt up, swinging his axe towards Alex¡¯s head. The shadow collided with Alex¡¯s left gauntlet, raised in defence, shattering both. Odere had used this distraction to get to Alex¡¯s right side and attack his legs with his emerald weapon.


    Alex¡¯s earrings shone, creating an ethereal golden wall between his leg and Odere¡¯s axe, causing the axe to splinter and break on impact. Alex, meanwhile, dropped his lance and summoned a ceremonial dagger which he plunged deep in the clone¡¯s neck, which disappeared instantly.


    Odere hopped back, shaking the vibrations out of his hands, grumbling in pain. He raised his sore right hand, conjuring four icicles and launching them towards Alex. Alex spun on his heel, switching his dagger to his left hand and grabbed his short-sword into existence. He attacked them, each one exploding against the ethereal steel.


    Odere planted his foot in the ground, pressing himself forward with unstoppable momentum. As the last icicle met its end, Odere leapt, green light surrounding his hands, stabbing down with his newly made scimitar and keeping his bladed shield close to his chest for defence.


    Alex ducked away from the ethereal blade, striking upwards but only meeting the metal of the shield. The two of them collided as Odere fell on top of Alex, causing them to both fall and scramble to be free of each other''s grip. A small plume of black sand shrouded the details of the brawl, but the grunts of pain and exertion followed by several ethereal green flashes hinted at its brutality.


    With a glint of golden light, the two men became separated by Alex¡¯s golden barrier, allowing them to both retreat and catch some precious breath. They both had fairly deep cuts in their chest and arms, likely from Odere¡¯s shield and Alex¡¯s dagger. The two of them stared each other down, exhausted.


    Alex straightened, extending his left arm forward, expecting to grab hold of something. The tattoos on his left hand coiled violently as an inky shape spread out of his hand. Little by little, the shape of a bow became clear, dark and powerful. He pulled back the string, a black arrow forming just above his hand.


    Odere lifted his right hand, creating a whole new arsenal of small icicles, similar in size to Alex¡¯s arrows. One icicle shot forward, and Alex released the string, sending the arrow flying forward. The two magical objects collided, shattering in a flurry of tiny, dark specks.


    Alex drew another arrow back and fired, meeting another icicle between them. Again and again, the projectiles eliminated each other, further extending the stalemate. Alex grimaced in exhausted annoyance, and Odere looked rather shaky on his feet, as if creating the icicles drained his stamina just as much as sprinting.


    An instant later, the colosseum went silent. The tension between the two men peaked. An incredible aura of focused emerald light exploded from both of them, blowing away all the dark sand, exposing the black stone beneath them.


    A vicious green arrow coalesced on Alex¡¯s bow, spiked and lethal, it looked like it was to be used for killing only the strongest being in the world.


    Odere changed his stance, gripping a long, elegant spear that oozed evil. It was tipped with a large, aquatic spike that seemed to be ripped straight out of a stingray, and dripped tiny ethereal venom that dissolved the stone beneath it.


    Just as soon as the men had summoned these world-class weapons, the booming voice of Gregory tore through the arena.


    ¡°THAT IS ENOUGH!¡± His commanding tone turned every head in the colosseum towards his stone throne, and even caused Gilgamesh to look up in surprise. ¡°I asked you to demonstrate your skill, not murder each other.¡± His voice was noticeably quieter, but still demanded respect from all that heard it.


    The two combatants instantly dispelled both their weapons, painfully bowing towards Gregory in apology.


    ¡°Now, go to the infirmary and have Dr Curos attend to your wounds. You will begin this training exercise the moment you return.¡± Gregory indicated to the door at the far end of the arena.


    Before they could even respond, the crowd in the colosseum erupted in cheers and applause, shaking the very walls of Desperius.

 Chapter 24: Connection through Steel

    The applause was thundering, causing Aria and Jack to cover their ears in discomfort. Alex and Odere limped over to the door to the infirmary, arguing with each other about something that was lost in the cheers. Helsay emerged from the door, hobbling on his misshaped foot with a sympathetic smile on his young face.


    Several moments of quiet conversing later, Helsay held out his left hand, supporting himself on his stick with his right, awaiting something from the two men. Alex sighed, removing his dirtied shirt, revealing his sweat-glazed muscles, earning another cheer from the women in the audience, though the loudest cheer came from Daeden, who was practically leaping out of his seat to get a better view.


    Helsay placed his hand on Alex¡¯s exposed chest, rippling dark magic out from the tattoos on his wrist. Alex seemed to lift slightly, his exhaustion flowing out like a sigh. Helsay removed his hand, saying something that Corvus assumed was ¡®Put your shirt back on.¡¯ Alex laughed, walking back to the centre of the ring, slipping his damp shirt back on, much to Daeden¡¯s disappointment.


    ¡°Right. What¡¯s say we get started?¡± Alex said over the dying applause, his confident voice revitalised.


    ¡°You would do well to remember that I am their teacher as well, hamster!¡± Odere yelled painfully, Helsay shushing him as he continued healing him.


    ¡°Well, you''re a little busy right now. I¡¯ll get things started, why not?¡±. Alex called, smirking at the gruff old man. He turned back to Corvus¡¯ group. ¡°Enjoy the show?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Aria, Henrith, Damian and May all called out in unison, barely containing their excitement.


    ¡°Um, yes.¡± Jack shuffled his feet, trying to focus just on Alex¡¯s face.


    ¡°I did too.¡± Lanya nodded awkwardly.


    Johanna remained silent, searching Alex¡¯s face for his feelings, her hands resting on the enormous sword beside her.


    Corvus on the other hand, was looking over at Odere, curious about the magic that Helsay was using. Helsay caught this expression and smiled warmly in his direction, an air of pride towards the sling around his chest.


    ¡°Glad to hear it!¡± Alex puffed out his chest, grinning to himself. ¡°That¡¯s what you can become if you train, and train hard. Of course, you can¡¯t get there for years, but as a wise man once said, a journey of¡ª¡± Alex began, his self assured aura was painfully apparent.


    ¡°Blah blah blah.¡± Odere interrupted, walking over to the group, his strength renewed, though his height was still lacking. ¡°Stop the sermon and get on with the training.¡± His scowl deepened when Alex rolled his eyes and flicked his hair.


    ¡°The old goat is right. Lets begin our journey now. Partner up, lets go!¡± Alex clapped his hands, eager to start fighting again.


    The group shuffled around into vaguely defined pairs. May and Damian immediately darted to be together, but blushed when Aria smirked at them. Jack moved towards Lanya, extending his hand with eagerness, but she shuffled back, bumping into Henrith, who was slightly taken aback. With a glance to Aria, who nodded protectively, eyeing Jack, Henrith and Lanya paired up.


    Jack fumed with indignation, as a few chuckles were heard from the audience. He turned to Corvus, anger and embarrassment covering his face.


    ¡°You, go with me!¡± Jack demanded, his hand on his rapier in an attempt to be threatening.


    Corvus and Johanna¡¯s eyes met. She smiled sadly, indicating that it was ok. Aria walked up to her, trying to engage in small talk to make up for their lack of chemistry. Corvus turned his eyes back to Jack.


    ¡°Ok.¡± Corvus shrugged, standing beside Jack, who was muttering something less than flattering about Henrith.


    ¡°Good. Now, using only the weapons you have on your person, you will spar. No summoning for the time being.¡± Alex scanned the group, focussing in on Aria and Lanya. ¡°Ladies. Weapons?¡±


    The twins looked at each other, then back at Alex. Aria smirked, while Lanya looked to the ground. In unison, the two pale twins tugged at leather cords on their hips, revealing a long, leather whip for each of them, tipped in a small blade. They each flicked their wrists, revealing hidden daggers tied to small lengths of rope.


    Alex chuckled and Odere snorted disapprovingly. The Cindrians were known for their honour and dislike for tricks and subterfuge, though Johanna and Cleo didn¡¯t seem to adhere to that particular stereotype.


    Odere spent the next few minutes explaining the procedure if someone got badly injured, as was fairly common apparently. Almost no one was listening, but he continued stubbornly.


    Damian and May were chattering excitedly, as they so often did. Henrith was doing a surprisingly good job of consoling Lanya, which was undoubtably due to his close relation with the wilder of the two twins, who was desperately trying to hold a one sided conversation with the absent Johanna.


    Jack was his usual grumpy, entitled self, muttering and kicking the sand. Corvus was looking to the stands, where Gilgamesh was making a rather entertaining show of trying to find a seat.


    ¡°Right!¡± Alex shouted, the second Odere closed his mouth, catching the whole colosseum by surprise. ¡°Enough dawdling. Lets get to fighting!¡± His excitement was infectious to the whole group, with the exception of Corvus and Johanna, who absent-mindedly followed their partners.


    ¡°You there. Corvus, was it?¡± Odere called, walking up behind Corvus.


    Corvus turned, lowering his gaze to meet the short man¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Need something?¡± Corvus tilted his head slightly.


    Odere turned around, pointing over at the infirmary door and the small corridor in front of it.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°The area around that door has been treated. Should your hand get damaged, it is safe for you there.¡± He explained, regarding Corvus with the same mild irritation that he looked at the world with.


    Corvus took a breath. He had hoped it would never come to that, but the reality of that space being needed hit harder than expected. He nodded, earning a strange look from Odere but he walked away nonetheless.


    ¡°Hurry up!¡± Jack was angrily stamping his foot.


    Corvus walked over to him, taking in his equipment.


    He was wearing similar combat gear to his own, with the addition of a long rapier and nothing else on his belt. In comparison to Corvus, he was basically fighting unarmed.


    Corvus drew a single cutlass into his one free hand, holding it point-down for safety. Jack did the same, a smug expression plastering his face.


    ¡°Everyone ready? Then begin!¡± Alex¡¯s voice cut through the arena, followed by a chorus of excited applause from the audience.


    Corvus raised his cutlass, pointing his left foot forward. It was the opposite of his usual stance, but he would have to make do if it meant protecting his hand.


    Jack smiled, raising his body so it was perfectly straight, pointing his rapier straight forward. He began circling Corvus, causing Corvus to shift his stance round awkwardly. He stepped forward cautiously but confidently, swiping Corvus¡¯ blade away and stepping in to stab at his shoulder.


    Corvus dodged, smacking Jack¡¯s blade aside with the guard of his cutlass, then striking at his outstretched arm. Jack gracefully drew it back and stepped to Corvus¡¯ side, sending a flurry of small stabs at Corvus, most of which were caught by his protective clothing.


    Corvus retreated, realigning himself to Jack, who¡¯s grin was ever-growing.


    ¡°My swordsmanship counters yours. Your style is made for linear duelling, but I wont let you use it!¡± Jack smiled maliciously, speeding up his movements.


    He gracefully stepped around another of Corvus¡¯s slashes, striking with the sharp edge of his blade against Corvus¡¯s wrist, drawing blood. A small laugh escaped Jacks lips as he began another assault on Corvus¡¯ flanks.


    The steady advance of Jack¡¯s blade was difficult to defend against. The constant changing of stance and his unfamiliarity with his left hand interrupted his concentration, made his cuts fly off course, made his guards ineffectual, not to mention Jack¡¯s style of delivering one or two tiny strikes then moving again made him impossible to predict.


    Corvus was beginning to get irritated. Any other style of fighting and he would at least be on an even playing field, but the quick circles and flanking made him impossible to counter. Corvus knew other styles of fighting, but with his arm in the sling, he couldn¡¯t use them properly or skilfully enough to protect it. He would have to do this defensively, cowardly, or deceitfully.


    Corvus chose deceit.


    He changed his grip on his blade, bringing his arm back and tossing the blade at Jack, who''s expression shifted from enough confidence to rival Alex to surprise and terror. Jack broke his posture to swing at the flying blade, smacking it just out of the way. All the while, Corvus pushed himself forward, drawing his second blade from its sheath on his right.


    The distance was closed in an instant, and by the time that Jack looked up from the thrown blade, Corvus was already past the tip of his rapier. Jack tried to slash, but only met the steel of Corvus¡¯ cutlass as it rushed passed. Panic overtook Jack¡¯s face as Corvus tucked his left foot behind Jack¡¯s heel, and pressed his elbow into Jack¡¯s chest, pushing him over.


    Jack let out a high pitched squeal as he tumbled into the dark sand, sending his rapier scattering. Corvus pointed his curved blade down at him before he could get back up. A small chorus of laughter echoed out from the audience, followed by a small applause. Henrith and Aria joined in the laugher, distracting them from their respective fights. Lanya was kind about it, sighing and waiting for Henrith to be ready again.


    Johanna was not that kind. She dropped her large sword, and wrapped her arms around Aria¡¯s waist and tripping her into the ground, slamming her into the cushiony sand, then rolling swiftly off, hand on one of her many blades. Aria gasped and laughed at the same time, winded but still cheerful.


    ¡°I yield, you¡­crazy lady.¡± Aria took deep breaths to compose her laughter, laying in the sand.


    Johanna stood up, picking her large sword back up and resting its point in the sand. She looked over at Corvus who returned her gaze, smiling. Corvus looked down at Jack.


    ¡°Sorry. Switching.¡± Corvus shrugged, sheathing his cutlass and grabbing his other one off the ground beside him. Jack looked like he wanted to say something, but Corvus didn¡¯t stop to listen.


    He and Johanna walked over to each other, eyeing each other''s weapons and standing a reasonable distance from each other to allow a fair fight. Just as they were about to begin, Alex¡¯s voice cut through the arena again.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough! Stand up and listen carefully!¡± He was standing beside Jack, raising a quizzical eyebrow at why he was still lying there. ¡°You can summon now. Use your weapons carefully and effectively. Begin!¡± He grinned widely, as if he was waiting for this moment. The audience agreed, giving supportive cheers and applause.


    Corvus turned back to Johanna, who shrugged.


    ¡°Up to you.¡± She said, quietly.


    Corvus shrugged back, raising his first cutlass in a defensive stance. That sword of hers would be difficult to deal with if he wasn¡¯t careful, not to mention the subtle shapes and glints of concealed weapons.


    Johanna took the hint, raising her massive blade and advancing slowly. Her expression was slightly pained, as if using the blade was tiring for her.


    The moment Corvus advanced, she dropped the weapon and started sprinting forward. Two long daggers appeared in her hands, flashing out from her wrists. She leapt up like a cat, driving the blades downwards. Corvus quickly stepped in, raising his blade to redirect the sharp daggers and shifting into the space where she once was.


    She landed on the sand with a thud, rolling most of the impact out. She threw the daggers forward, reaching inside her leather jacket again. Corvus deflected the blades, pointing his cutlass forward to dissuade her.


    She wasn¡¯t dissuaded. Instead, she brought out what looked to be a meat cleaver, except far sharper into her left hand. She lunged forward, bringing her cleaver down to Corvus¡¯ neck. When Corvus went to guard, she used her other hand to grasp the blade of his weapon, moving it aside.


    Corvus let go of his cutlass, using the armour on his clothes to take the blow. The armour parted, allowing the blade to hack halfway into his bone. Corvus brought up his leg, pushing her back to give himself space. She tumbled in the sand, raising her red eyes to his. She looked at the cleaver in his arm and her eyes widened, her hands going to her face in shock about what she did.


    Corvus raised his arm to his mouth, gripping the handle with his teeth and pulling it free. The wound closed in several seconds, cracking and twisting shards of bone and sinew into place with sickening cracks and squelches of air escaping the wound. The audience was silent as Corvus flexed his arm, checking to see if it still worked. All the other fights had stopped, staring at Corvus.


    He looked around the arena, curious.


    ¡°Why have we stopped?¡±


    Johanna was speechless, gawking at Corvus.


    ¡°You¡­your¡­your arm?¡± She stammered, desperate to make sense of what was happening.


    Corvus looked down at his torn sleeve.


    ¡°Oh. That? Don''t worry about it. It''s happened more than you might expect.¡± Corvus shrugged, picking up his discarded cutlass and returning it to its sheath.


    The colosseum was silent, the audience and all the combatants staring at Corvus. Gregory was leaning forward in keen interest while his two guards were frozen in surprise.


    ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡± Corvus tilted his head.


    Alex strode forward, a warily surprised expression on his face.


    ¡°No. Not at all. We just didn¡¯t expect you to be able to¡­heal like that.¡± Alex crossed his arms in confusion.


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± Corvus shrugged. ¡°Are we still fighting?¡±


    Odere looked around the colosseum, his scowl deeper than before.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure they''ll appreciate the spectacle. We should continue.¡± He nodded gruffly at Alex.


    Alex shrugged, shaking his head in exasperation.


    ¡°Alright then. Keep it going!¡±

 Chapter 25: Spark of Conflict

    Johanna took a few seconds to get back into the fight, trying desperately to shake out her astonishment, but after some ¡®gentle¡¯ encouragement from everyone in the arena, who were watching the fight with renewed interest. She had discarded her larger weapons and was trying a less direct approach with a set of arming swords, taking a page from Jack¡¯s book and keeping her distance.


    It was relatively easy for Corvus to keep her blades at bay, as this clearly wasn¡¯t her usual style of fighting. The rest of the group were watching, in various states of boredom at the predictability of the fight, especially Jack, who seemed to be going insane with how much he wanted to call out Johanna¡¯s lacklustre form. The rest of the arena agreed, shuffling restlessly.


    Daeden was the first to crack, standing on his seat and calling down to the arena.


    ¡°Come on! Fight! Summon already!¡± He sounded deeply offended, which the rest of the audience caught up on, adding their own voices to the growing chant.


    ¡°Summon! Summon! Summon!¡± Even Lanya joined in on the contagious chant.


    Corvus exchanged a glance with Johanna, who chuckled slightly.


    ¡°You first?¡± Corvus shrugged, sheathing his cutlass.


    ¡°Very well.¡± Johanna shrugged back, returning her blades to her long leather jacket.


    Emerald light filled her hands, extending over her left arm. It was long, round and fairly stocky looking.


    ¡°Is that¡­¡± Corvus had to squint. He recognised it from somewhere, but he couldn¡¯t place where.


    A round shot of ethereal steel flew from the barrel, with an incredible, thundering roar. Corvus ducked, letting the shot fly an inch from his face and cracking the black stone at the side of the colosseum. Corvus turned to the crater in the wall, then to Johanna, who was smiling sympathetically.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a cannon?!¡± Damian was practically jumping out of his skin with excitement. Henrith whistled, obviously impressed and slightly nervous about making jokes about her. Aria and Lanya both chuckled nervously, showing that, despite their differences, they were still scared by the same things. May was standing speechless, hugging Lanya for comfort.


    Jack was plainly terrified. His legs were shaking, and a cold sweat was spreading across his forehead. His expression was stuck at ¡®get me out of here¡¯ and his hands were attempting, and failing, to clutch his rapier defensively.


    ¡°Sorry. I shouldn''t use this.¡± Johanna lowered her head sadly, but looked back up in surprise when Corvus spoke.


    ¡°No worries. Have to make it fair after all.¡± He shrugged, cracking his back and flexing his left arm.


    ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Johanna began to speak, but stopped when Corvus started running towards her. She raised her cannon again, magically reloading it and firing, aiming to kill.


    Corvus summoned his anchor, deflecting the shot into the sand with his abnormally powerful swing, sending a fine plume of particles into the air. The entire arena let out a collective gasp that Corvus ignored, instead throwing the object forward, hooking it over the top of the giant firearm and yanking the chain down.


    Johanna stumbled as she was pulled to the ground, trying to take her arm out of the underside of the heavy anchor, with little success. She turned her head to face the tip of Corvus¡¯ cutlass and an apologetic shrug from him.


    The arena went berserk. Though it was a short exchange, it was incredible to them. The largest object that they had ever seen summoned was Cleo¡¯s tiger, but this anchor outclassed even that.


    Alex and Odere exchanged unreadable looks, before turning to the group and whispering to all of them. They all looked slightly stunned but nodded excitedly. The two teachers waved for the crowd to be quiet, and motioned for Corvus and Johanna to listen.


    ¡°Clearly we have someone of great skill among us. We believe the best way to explore the depths of this talent is to also explore the talents of his new brothers and sisters.¡± Alex motioned to the entire group.


    ¡°This group will attempt to defeat that man.¡± Odere pointed at Corvus, who sheathed his blade and picked his anchor off the ground, resting it against his shoulder. ¡°With our lord¡¯s permission of course.¡± The head of everyone in the colosseum turned to Gregory, who was stroking his chin thoughtfully.


    He stood up, clearing his throat.


    ¡°It is true that he seems to be powerful. This will be an interesting exercise, so please proceed.¡± He smiled warmly to the arena, nodding slightly to Corvus.


    The room erupted in applause, with Daeden barely stopping himself from tumbling to the centre of the arena with excitement. Corvus sighed. It would be a pain to fight them all at once, and he didn¡¯t want his hand to get damaged, so he wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled. Then again, he never was.


    The group formed a circle around Corvus, while May helped Johanna to her feet. Henrith broke ranks almost immediately, raising his pickaxe with an ecstatic grin on his face. Corvus ducked out the way of the sharp tool, pushing Henrith to the side with his elbow, causing him to slip on the soft sand and collapse in a laughing heap.


    He got back to his feet, holding his heavy pick in one hand, and summon an ornate green sabre into his left. Corvus tilted his head. The sabre didn¡¯t fit his personality or his build at all, and judging by the look on Jack¡¯s face, he wanted it badly. Or maybe he didn¡¯t want the sabre, but Henrith¡¯s¡ªEnjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Corvus barely dodged the slice from the ethereal weapon, snapping him out of his overthinking. Corvus raised his anchor, tossing it straight forward. Henrith¡¯s smirk fell as he jumped to the side, only getting hit in a glancing blow, but plenty enough to wind him badly. He lay on the ground, his pickaxe digging into his back, with an incredibly uncomfortable look on his face.


    ¡°Ow.¡± He managed, shuffling to his knees.


    Even Corvus could tell that he was no longer in any condition to fight. He pulled his his anchor back to himself, turning his gaze back to the rest of the group.


    Aria was storming forward, an angry look on her face. Lanya joined her, but kept herself as far back as she dared. Aria drew back her whip, snapping it towards Corvus.


    He dodged to the side, catching the blow on his left cheek, a deep cut left in its place that vanished seconds later. Corvus swung his anchor again, trying to take them both out in a single blow. Their teamwork was second to none, Aria ducking down and letting Lanya jump off her back to get over the ethereal object.


    They both summoned their weapons, a long pole in Lanya¡¯s hands and a crescent blade in Aria¡¯s.


    They both ran forward, one aiming high, the other aiming low. Corvus blocked the blade with his anchor, and took the blow from the pole on his shin, shattering something. The two switched, making Corvus constantly follow the path of the blade so his clothes wouldn''t get destroyed again.


    They threw their weapons to each other, switching places and their line of attack. It became impossible to tell whigh was which by their constant switching.  The blade flew down, the pole flew up and Corvus was caught in the middle. He jumped back, barely missing the impact from both twins.


    ¡°They really are difficult to tell apart when they¡¯re fighting.¡± Gilgamesh muttered, looking closely at the two girls, who stepped right through him, much to his annoyance.


    Corvus swung his anchor around his head, keeping the twins at a distance. They exchanged a look, then brought both their weapons together. The green ethereal steel bound itself together, fusing the two into a wicked looking scythe.


    Corvus raised an eyebrow, grabbing his anchor and charging forward. The twins ran to meet him, tossing the scythe between them. One of them ducked back, pushing the large weapon forward with all their might, giving the other one extra power on their strike. The scythe rocketed down towards Corvus¡¯ neck, the steel rippling in the green light.


    It met Corvus¡¯ anchor, bouncing off uselessly. The expression of confidence on the twins¡¯ face turned to shock, as Corvus threw his weapon aside and wrapped his good hand around the girl''s neck, doing his best to restrain her with one hand. She struggled, kicking and waving the massive weapon feebly.


    ¡°Yield! We yield!¡± The voice of the other twin echoed through the arena, steeped in worry and desperation to stop her sister from getting injured. Lanya, Corvus guessed.


    He let go of Aria, catching her before she fell to the ground. She was gasping for air and taking deep lungful of air. She shot Corvus an angry look, but it subsided when she sighed and chuckled.


    ¡°Good scrap.¡± She pat Corvus¡¯ shoulder, limply walking back with Lanya.


    Corvus turned to look at the rest of the group, but was immediately met with an iron bar smashing into his face. The audience audibly winced in pain. He stumbled back, feeling several bones in his face broken. Alex raced forward to check to see if he was alright, but Corvus waved him off, cracking his neck.


    May had a furious expression on her face, the bar shaking in her hand. Damian stood beside her, trying to calm her down, to little effect. She drew her pistol, pointing it at Corvus with a shaky hand. He snatched out Raven, pulling her left hammer back and returning the stare. The colosseum went silent with the tension.


    ¡°You don¡¯t get to hurt her.¡± Her voice was shaky with rage.


    ¡°Sorry. It is sparring, so that kinda comes with the territory.¡± Corvus tilted his head, shrugging slightly.


    Her face flared up with baseless anger, pointing her pistol more steadily. Raven fired, the bullet meeting the wood of May¡¯s flintlock. She dropped it, shaking her hand in pain and cursing at him.


    She threw her iron bar to the ground, clattering it slightly against the remains of the firearm. She ran forward, sparking an ethereal green war-hammer into her arms and swinging it in a predictable arc out of fury. Corvus sighed as he blocked the blow with his anchor and pressing his foot into May¡¯s stomach, pushing her to the ground with a gasp.


    Damian rushed forward, swinging one of his shields at Corvus. Corvus caught it easily, tossing his arm aside. Damian span around, springing a set of green, bladed high-heels onto his feet and slashing up at Corvus. Corvus ducked back, putting some distance between him and the pair.


    ¡°Nice heels.¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow at Damian¡¯s new footwear.


    A blush came up in Damian¡¯s face.


    ¡°Quiet, you!¡± Damian shook the red out of his face and helped May back to her feet. He raised his shields in front of May, who took a few breaths then raised her hammer behind him.


    Jack stormed forward, angrily raising his rapier.


    ¡°Damn you! I¡¯m fighting you now!¡± Jack shouted indignantly, summoning a green wood axe into his other hand.


    May and Damian looked over in surprise as Jack was fuming. The audience set themselves on the tension, eager to see this fight.


    Corvus sighed, raising his anchor towards Jack. He wouldn''t be too hard to disable, especially if he was this angry.


    ¡°Take this!¡± Jack sprinted forward, rage and adrenaline pumping through his veins. He threw his axe forward, which Corvus dodged easily.


    When he turned back to Jack, he was close. Too close. His rapier was touching the soft cloth of his sling.


    ¡°No.¡± The word escaped Corvus¡¯ lips quietly and terrified.


    The sharp point of the blade pierced the sling.


    Purple light flooded the arena as Jack¡¯s blade was set alight, crumbling to ash shortly after. Jack screamed as the fire spread up his arm, burning away his clothes and singeing his arm. The flames dispersed from his body and he fell on the ground, writhing in agony.


    The purple flames leapt around Corvus, sending the sand around him up in smoke. Corvus couldn''t move. His breathing accelerated as he tried to cover the hole in the sling, trying to avoid the plumes of fire.


    His hands were shaking and his eyes unfocused as he saw the purple fire expand, getting brighter and angrier. It would end him. End everyone.


    ¡°Corvus!¡± Gregory¡¯s voice boomed out through the arena, as the audience were gasping in astonishment. Corvus looked around in terror, unable to see anything. ¡°The door! It¡¯s safe by the door!¡± His voice was desperate, as he pointed towards the door by the infirmary, where Helsay was frantically motioning.


    Corvus scrambled to get there, but the soft sand beneath him made him slip and fall as the flames flared more and more. Corvus tried to pull himself up, but he wouldn''t move. He couldn¡¯t. He was frozen to the spot, unable to function. The image of that void, that terrible void that he saw when the bullet went through his head, flashed in his mind, keeping him fixed to the ground.


    ¡°Let me.¡± Gilgamesh¡¯s voice filled Corvus¡¯ head.


    Suddenly, he had strength again. His body began to move on its own, summoning his anchor and slamming it into the ground, piercing the dark stone beneath the sand. He pulled himself with all his might towards the doorway, sending him flying through the air. He collided against the stone with his shoulder, cracking the wall and shattering every bone in his back.


    The fire faded into nothingness. Corvus lost all his strength, laying in a heap on the ground taking long laboured breaths as the chaos of the colosseum quietened around him.

 Chapter 26: A Moment of Quiet

    Corvus lay in the sand, unmoving. Helsay had stitched up the sling and tried to console him, but had shuffled away shortly after. Gregory had come down from his stone throne to try and strike up a conversation, but left after receiving no reply whatsoever.


    Jack had sheepishly walked over, looking to see if Corvus was ok, even sitting down beside him and stuttering through an apology. Aria and Lanya limped weakly over to Helsay, trying to avoid looking at Corvus as he lay prone on the ground. Aria opened her mouth to say something to him while Lanya was getting healed, but stopped and nodded subtly.


    Damian and May both said quiet greetings but nothing else. May rubbed her eyes as if she was crying, but hid it well enough for even Corvus to wonder if he saw it. Henrith walked over, patting Corvus on the shoulder and trying his hardest to keep his usual goofy smile on his face, but even he left eventually, smile gone.


    The audience filtered out, whispering amongst themselves about the spectacle of that session and what they saw. Corvus imagined all the thousands of things they could be saying about him. How he was a monster and how he was powerful. He didn¡¯t care either way, but the thought still stuck with him.


    The silence settled around him, the slight crackling of the green fires sending an annoying flicker of a shadow across Corvus¡¯ eyes. He thought about tilting his head, but there would be no real point to it. The light was everywhere, and the shadows chased him no matter how much he shifted his eyes. Then a darkness settled over him, obscuring the oppressive light with a comfortable shadow.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Johanna¡¯s voice tumbled into Corvus¡¯ ears like feathers in the breeze. Corvus glanced up to see her face, her ruby red eyes glinting with a sad kinship.


    ¡°Wmhp fiur?¡± Corvus¡¯ voice was muffled by the sand that his head was nearly buried in. Johanna chuckled a little, sitting down on his left, gently lifting his head out the sand. She brushed the sand out of his hair and shuffled closer beside him, rubbing her shoulder against his, carefully stroking the scars on the side of his head.


    Corvus shook the dark sand out of his ears and coughed a few rough grains out his throat.


    ¡°What for?¡± Corvus tried again, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.


    ¡°Hard to say. It just felt right, somehow.¡± Johanna shrugged slightly, leaning her head over to rest on his arm. ¡°I thought you could use someone to talk to, seeing as everyone left.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Corvus looked at her, taking in her content expression curiously. ¡°I¡¯m sure you have better things to do.¡±


    Johanna shook her head, raising it to look into his eyes.


    ¡°The only thing I want now is here.¡± She smiled, a slight air of laughter in her eyes which was almost unsettlingly different from her usual stoic sadness. ¡°Besides, you still owe me a life story.¡±


    ¡°I already told you and everyone else everything that I remember.¡± Corvus shrugged the comment off, but her smile turned into irritation.


    ¡°We both know that¡¯s not the whole story. So tell me who you are!¡± Corvus was taken aback by her forcefulness. She was a hair¡¯s breadth from shouting, tears of anger starting to well in her eyes.


    Corvus took a quick glance around the large, darkened arena for anyone who was listening, but all he saw was Gilgamesh loudly snoring upside-down on Gregory¡¯s stone throne.


    ¡°Alright. Have it your way.¡± Corvus sighed, picking up a small handful of sand and tossing it limply into the centre of the colosseum.


    Corvus told her everything he remembered about himself and what happened before his suicide, including the many lives he had taken so easily. He was hesitant to tell her about his curse, but with a bit of insistent prodding from Johanna, he decided to tell her about the Entity he killed and the hell it was putting him through.


    Her eyes got steadily wider throughout the long and bloody story, with barely enough time to process the fact that she was sitting next to an emotionless serial killer. When she heard about his curse though, her expression of shock turned to worried horror, her wide eyes glancing down at the newly mended sling that still had streaks of dark purple burns on it.


    When Corvus finished speaking, he stared down into the black sand that seemed to be constantly shifting beneath him. He waited for her to get up and start pummelling him, call him a monster and storm off, or cast aside his story as false because Entities are nearly unkillable to normal people. He kept waiting¡­but only silence followed.


    He glanced over at her, to see if she was still conscious. The moment his eyes met hers, the deep red of her iris¡¯ began to flood with tears. Her face remained perfectly still, a mask of shock and worry, but her tears continued to flow like waterfalls down her red cheeks.


    ¡°You¡¯re crying.¡± Corvus noted, raising an eyebrow quizzically.


    She didn¡¯t say a word, but smiled in her usual sad way.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Her voice croaked. She cleared her voice and took a deep breath to compose herself. ¡°I thought I was the only one.¡±


    That statement took Corvus by surprise. Of all the things he had told her, none of them boded well for what had happened in her life previously.


    ¡°You shot yourself as well?¡± Corvus tilted his head in extreme confusion. A short chuckle escaped her lips as she rubbed the tide of tears off her face.


    ¡°No¡­not that.¡± She stared at Corvus, the hint of sadness behind her gaze now covered her entire face, but she looked comfortable and accepted. ¡°I thought I was the only one of us who had taken a life before.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Corvus shrugged. ¡°Who¡¯d you kill?¡±


    She made a face at him, expressing her displeasure at such a blunt question. Corvus shrugged a small apology, but still looked at her, expectant for an answer.


    ¡°Well¡­if you insist.¡± She sighed, drawing up old memories of who she used to be.


    ¡°I was born on Cindrea, far inland. The laws are enforced harshly everywhere, even in the most lenient districts. My family wasn¡¯t very well off, but that didn¡¯t stop mother and father from trying every possible method to gain wealth. One of my father¡¯s business deals went badly and we were forced to sell what little possessions we had to cover the costs.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Mother wasn¡¯t prepared for a life of poverty. She went to every wealthy person she knew, begging for help and offering everything to get back to how things were. Later that week, she sold meto the highest bidder. Her own daughter. The old man that bought me was nice enough, but his children, two respected knights, were demons. They used to beat me, shred my clothes and throw me into the latrines for fun.


    ¡°Not even a year later, the old man died, and his sons inherited everything, including me. They¡­¡± Johanna took a breath in, digging her nails into her arms. ¡°They used me. It was nearly seven months before I decided I wouldn¡¯t be theirs anymore.¡± Her expression turned dark, and a crazed smile tugged at her lips. Her eyes met Corvus¡¯, her gaze was steeped in manic fury.


    ¡°The older one dragged me to his chambers, tearing the rags off me and laughing. I tore his throat out with my teeth, and nothing was ever sweeter. He tried to scream, he thrashed around like an eel. His sword was close to him, so I picked it up and skewered his heart. The moment when the light left his eyes is one I¡¯ll treasure forever.


    ¡°His brother came in to see what the noise was. I ran him through, pulling him to the ground. He screamed louder than I ever could. I couldn¡¯t stop myself from cutting him up. I just kept swinging that sword until he stopped moving. I think I kept cutting him for a while after, I don¡¯t remember. All I can remember after that is wandering the streets, their evil blood dripping off my hands and my laughter filling the air.


    ¡°I found my mother after that. She was¡­with someone who I didn¡¯t recognise. I can still hear her beg for help when I stuck a knife through that man¡¯s head.¡±


    Her breathing was erratic, her gaze shifting crazily. Corvus put a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down, but she turned and pulled a hidden knife out. She stuck the short blade into Corvus¡¯ chest, her eyes steeped in vengeance and mad rage. Her eyes snapped back to reality and she looked down in confusion. She nearly screamed in shock when she saw Corvus¡¯ blood begin to seep out of his wound into his padded shirt.


    ¡°I was beginning to like this shirt.¡± Corvus sighed, pulling the blade out and checking to see if his cast was damaged.


    Johanna took several moments to overcome her horror and realise that Corvus was, in fact, still alive. She breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back on the black stone wall at their backs.


    ¡°So there. That¡¯s my story.¡± She let out a breath that she seemed to be holding for years, easing into the ground. She weakly glanced at his sling. ¡°Is that thing really that dangerous?¡±


    Corvus glanced up, nodding slightly.


    ¡°It¡¯s killed someone before, and it may well kill me. So, yes.¡± He shrugged, softly grasping his wrapped arm. Johanna leaned in closer, looking at the singed cloth curiously.


    ¡°Can I?¡± She looked at Corvus expectantly.


    ¡°Can you what?¡± His voice dipped, wary and defensive.


    ¡°See it? Just see it?¡± She smiled sadly at him, her eyes showing no air of hostility.


    Corvus looked around the area of black runes. He wasn¡¯t dead yet, so the field must work, he should be safe. He was still hesitant though, his free hand quivering with apprehension.


    Johanna reached out and squeezed his shaky hand, her warm, sad smile piercing Corvus¡¯ eyes. Her presence gave Corvus some air of comfort around himself.


    ¡°Oh, for the love of Ruin, get a room!¡± Gilgamesh yelled, from his rather ¡®unique¡¯ position on the throne. Corvus scowled at the Recluse King, eager to slap him in the face.


    ¡°Relent.¡± The word caused the ribbons in the sling to retreat into the soft cloth. His right hand was gradually released from its vice grip, the joints in his elbow cracking from inaction.


    Corvus pulled the soft sling away from his hand, and his eyes widened with horror, as did Johanna¡¯s.


    The curse had grown.


    The twisted mass of black charcoal that was his skin had moved up his arm. It was barely an inch below his elbow, covering the majority of his forearm with fractured, purple burns. The Swallow bracelet was barely visible, cutting into the hardened flesh, obscured by wisps of violet fire.


    Corvus hastily grabbed at the bracelet, tugging it up his arm. Chunks of black skin broke off, falling to the ground and burning to dust among the sand, exposing bright sparks of fire, which flickered out shortly after. With careful effort, the golden bangle edged its way over the hardened crust, to the edge of the curse.


    The inside of the sling was scorched to the point that some of the cloth had started to wilt and crumble, but the runes and ribbon seemed mostly untouched, which gave Corvus only slight apprehension.


    Johanna held her hands to her mouth throughout the ordeal, looking on in dread.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­a curse?¡± Her voice was trembling at something so dangerous being so close to her.


    Corvus nodded, a tiny wave of resignation flickering across his face. He turned his eyes back to Johanna and shrugged, re-covering his cursed flesh.


    ¡°Support.¡± That word cued the ribbons to shoot back out, tying the white sling back to Corvus¡¯ chest, just below his recently bloody stab wound.


    Johanna wrapped her arms around Corvus¡¯ free hand, to his surprise. Her face was a mask of sadness and dread. Her grip was that of a vice, refusing to give the slightest inch.


    ¡°If you want my arm, you¡¯re welcome to have it. It grows back.¡± Corvus tried and failed to shrug with her holding it so close.


    ¡°Promise that you¡¯ll live.¡± Her words were quiet and quivering by another wave of her tears.


    ¡°Where¡¯s this coming from?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow, trying to pry his arm away again, to little effect.


    Johanna lifted her face, locking a gaze between them.


    ¡°We¡¯re here together. You can¡¯t leave me alone.¡± She was almost pleading, her grip tightening.


    Corvus was silent for a few moments. He couldn¡¯t make that promise. Not yet, not until he was sure he could seal the curse properly.


    ¡°I¡­¡± The words stuck in his mouth. He didn¡¯t know why. It was a simple fact, so why couldn¡¯t he say it to her. He closed his eyes.


    ¡°It technically isn¡¯t a lie if you word it right. How do you think politicians get by?¡± Gilgamesh called from the stands, where he was swiping at pebbled out of sheer boredom.


    Corvus glanced up at him, then back to Johanna, who¡¯s eyes had only got more and more red.


    ¡°I¡­promise to survive anything I can.¡± Corvus spoke slowly, trying to word it so that it was a promise he could reasonably keep to her and to himself. The look of relief in her eyes indicated that she believed him, and that she wouldn¡¯t stab him again, which was a bonus.


    She eased her grip on his arm and rested against his shoulder, allowing her eyes to naturally fall closed. Corvus was about to ask what she was doing, but noticed that she was already in deep sleep. He raised an eyebrow at that particular quirk. He would have to learn that someday.


    Her tiredness seeped into Corvus, making his eyes feel heavy as well. He¡¯d lost track of how long he¡¯d been in the colosseum, and how long they¡¯d been talking alone together. He rested his head back onto the hard, stone wall, closing his eyes and becoming numb to the world yet again.


    His pearly dreamscape was somewhat different this time. Gilgamesh was nowhere to be seen. The curse had grown, and had began twisting violently. Corvus took a closer look at the incinerated section of his soul. There was something there. Something that wasn¡¯t there last time.


    An eye burst open, staring back at Corvus. He recoiled, a ghostly paw swiping out at him. The enraged face of the slain bear Entity roared at him, emerging from the tear in his soul and charging forward, purple fire glistening against its spectral fur.


    It grew in size, opened its jaws and lunged, aiming to swallow Corvus whole, taking his soul for itself. Corvus threw up his arms in defence, feeble as it may have been.


    The jaws never came. The blow that would have ended him never even came close to him. Corvus looked towards the beast, but saw something different entirely.


    Gilgamesh stood before him, a hand on each of the bear¡¯s jaws and an angered grimace on his face. His comfortable white and gold gown was crackling with energy, floating just above his skin, eager to unleash the power inside it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t leave you for one second, can I?¡± Gilgamesh complained, cracking his neck.


    He grunted, forcing the beast¡¯s spirit backwards, much to its anger. Golden light surrounded Gilgamesh¡¯s hands, exploding out in ethereal lances that pierced the spectral hide and launching the Entity back through the tear of the curse. He turned back towards Corvus, an irritated sigh following shortly after.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid. I¡¯ll be back shortly.¡± With that, he strode towards the charred scar on Corvus¡¯ soul, another golden spell amassing around his right hand.


    The Entity burst from the breach again, launching curved sickles of purple fire at Gilgamesh, which he swept away with ease. He raised his right hand, touching it to the spirit. An explosion of light sent the bear flying back through the hole.


    Gilgamesh glanced back again, scowling, but nodding at the same time.


    ¡°Stay safe, cabin boy.¡± Then he disappeared through the charred cracks of the violet void.

 Chapter 27: Awakenings

    Corvus¡¯ eyes opened sharply. The colosseum that surrounded him blurred and distorted. He shook his head, trying to re-focus his vision, but the more he moved, the weaker he felt.


    The sands around him warped and shifted, creating shapes that twisted and settled, as if dancing in the dark. The fires lapped upwards, writhing masses of violet blaze.


    Corvus tilted his head in dazed confusion.


    ¡®The fires were green, weren¡¯t they?¡¯ The thought boomed out through the hazy arena.


    His eyes darted down to his cast, and his heart nearly stopped.


    It wasn¡¯t there.


    His dark hand pulsed with evil light, the cracks and cinders twisting into a cruel grin. Corvus panted in sudden terror, as he looked down to the circle of dark runes. They were being swept away in the shifting sands, sighing as they crumbled to nothing.


    Corvus tried to get to his feet, but he couldn¡¯t move. Johanna was sinking into the ground beside him, her sleeping grip was like steel around him.


    He tried to call out to her, but his voice made no sound. He tried to tug himself free, but his body felt like paper.


    The dark security on Johanna¡¯s neck, the same as Corvus¡¯ necklace, began to emit a low laughter, goading Corvus as the purple fires engulfed his arm. Corvus was desperate to escape, he couldn¡¯t move, the fire was close to him. Thoughts overwhelmed him, dragging him further into the dark sand.


    The violet fire crept up his shoulder, spreading over his body, stretching up his neck.


    Corvus wretched for a gasp of air before the curse engulfed him, the laughter from the tattoos deafening him.


    Corvus curled into a ball, begging for the end¡­


    ***


    ¡°You would succumb?¡±


    Corvus¡¯ eyes flew open, the dark arena stretching out before him.


    ¡°You would give in?¡±


    His gaze darted around himself, his sling was intact and undamaged, the circle of runes quietly pulsed rhythmically.


    ¡°You would let yourself die so easily?¡±


    The voice echoed inside Corvus, originating from both within and without.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there? Gilgamesh?¡± Corvus spoke quietly to himself, glancing down at Johanna, who had rolled over in her sleep, hugging herself in the warm sand.


    ¡°Gilgamesh is not here. And we have met before, child.¡± There was a slight amusement in the stoic voice.


    Corvus cast his memory back. The voice did sound vaguely familiar, as if it had passed by him mere minutes ago.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a crow by any chance, are you?¡± Corvus stood up, dusting the sand off himself and steadying his shaky body on the wall.


    There was a loud flutter of feathers as a dark shape swooped down from somewhere in the arena, landing onto the dark sand. It was larger than most birds, its black feathers were a shadow in the darkness, making it impossible to see it perfectly.


    ¡°So you are a crow.¡± Corvus nodded, slightly taken aback by the sudden arrival of a bird. Wasn¡¯t Desperius underground?


    The bird tilted its head, slightly offended.


    ¡°You would brush us off like mere beasts?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying that you¡¯re not?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow, breathing heavily to try and steady his weak legs.


    ¡°You should know that we are far more than we seem, child. Did you also ignore our services to you?¡±


    ¡°Services?¡± Corvus was sceptical. But in his scepticism, flashes of memory appeared in his mind. The crows that surrounded him and Cleo when they fought. The crows that held his knife for him when he fought the Entity. The crow that put him to sleep when his curse almost killed him.


    The crow nodded, as if seeing these memories.


    ¡°You mean more to us than you know, child.¡± The crow¡¯s voice was a strange mix of wise and grizzled, with added gravitas as the voice spoke from inside his mind as well.


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± Corvus forgot some of his shock about what he saw and looked at the bird with sheer confusion.


    ¡°We first lived to serve, but now we live to fight by your side.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­That doesn¡¯t help.¡± Corvus sighed, trying to stand up straight.


    The crow did its best to shrug but then turned its beady eyes directly to Corvus.


    ¡°Neither do you.¡±


    Corvus was taken even further aback. Did it just threaten him?This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°No. It¡¯s a question.¡± The bird spoke forcefully, as if reading his mind.


    ¡°What¡ª¡± Corvus began.


    ¡°Do you think you¡¯re helping yourself by submitting to death so easily? We both know what lies on the other side, we¡¯ve both seen the depths of nothingness, and you would let yourself go back?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Corvus had nothing to say to that. He knew what death felt like, and he should be beating himself for even dreaming about going back. A thought pricked in his mind. ¡°You¡¯ve died too?¡±


    The crow nodded solemnly.


    ¡°We crows are not like most birds. When our lives end, we cling to this world like no other. We fly back from the abyss of death and live again. You know this.¡±


    ¡°I do, but¡­¡± Corvus was stumped. What the crow was saying made sense, but he couldn¡¯t wrap his head around why it resonated so deeply within him. ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡±


    ¡°So I can measure you, child.¡± The crow took flight and landed on the wall just above Corvus.


    ¡°Measure?¡± Corvus tilted his head. He blinked and memories filled his head again. When he fought the Entity, the words he yelled before killing the ¡®unkillable¡¯.


    ¡°You said that you could survive anything.¡± The crow noted, reading his mind again. ¡°Did you forget this, or did you just give up?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Corvus was adamant about that, using his growing anger at the bird to help him stand straight. ¡°I haven¡¯t given up.¡±


    ¡°Then you would let that bear kill you?¡±


    ¡°Never.¡± Corvus clenched his fist.


    ¡°You would die to a blade cutting a measly piece of cloth?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d break the blade.¡± He felt a bubble of rage rise inside him, echoing with determination around the void inside him.


    ¡°You would let that curse control you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll make it mine to control.¡± Corvus¡¯ voice rose, a battle cry within his hollow heart.


    ¡°You would die?¡±


    ¡°I can survive anything.¡± Corvus growled at the crow, staring daggers at the dark bird.


    The crow wasn¡¯t intimidated, instead it looked like it was smiling, as much as crows can.


    ¡°It seems we chose wisely.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Corvus tilted his head, the building anger in his chest faded and his fist unclenched.


    The crow didn¡¯t answer, instead taking flight into the shadows of the colosseum, where the beating of its wings vanished into silence.


    The dull green fires flickered, sending a shadow across Corvus¡¯ face, causing him to blink. He took a breath in and went to steady himself, but found that he already was. That pep-talk of sorts had given him renewed vigour and determination to seal this damn curse and survive.


    Johanna shifted in the sand, mumbling as she began to wake up.


    ¡°Corvus¡­¡± She yawned, looking around the dark arena, rubbing the sleep out of her ruby eyes.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡± Corvus noted.


    She stretched, cracking her neck. She glanced around the arena and smiled at Corvus, lazily getting to her feet.


    ¡°How long were we asleep?¡±


    ¡°Well, I assume it¡¯s night time. The fires aren¡¯t as bright as before at least.¡± Corvus shrugged, still looking at where the crow had disappeared to.


    ¡°Huh. We should probably get out of here, shouldn¡¯t we?¡± Johanna shrugged, chuckling slightly.


    ¡°Hm? Oh, sure.¡± Corvus turned to her, tapping his swords. ¡°I¡¯ll take these to the smith first to get sharpened.¡±


    Johanna nodded, beginning to walk to the exit.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring everyone to the chapel in the morning. I think there¡¯s a conversation due with you lot.¡± She smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯ll probably be sleeping by then.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    Johanna chuckled, blinking sadly at Corvus. She nodded goodbye as she walked to the exit of the arena. Corvus followed her, looking back to the shadows where the crow vanished one last time, before stepping into the void of the door.


    The chapel was exactly the same as before, though it was slightly darker and there was no one inside.


    Johanna waved goodbye and began walking through the tunnel that lead to the dorms, while Corvus took several seconds to remember which door lead to the smiths.


    He took a guess and stepped through one of the black stone doors.


    He was immediately met with a wave of sweaty heat that slammed into him. The hammers slamming down and beating into the scorching metal filled the room.


    Corvus took a total of four steps before a large figure stepped in front of him. Daeden stared down at him, a serious expression on his face. His serious face shifted to excitement as he recognised Corvus.


    ¡°Oh! It¡¯s you! I really like your regenerating and your anchor and all that!¡± He was practically bouncing with excitement.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Corvus stated simply. He drew his blades out of his belt and held them out to the excited smith. Daeden took them quickly, admiring Cleo¡¯s work and drew the blades out to assess them.


    ¡°Slightly dulled and several nicks. You want me to sharpen them for you?¡± Daeden was beaming.


    Corvus nodded, raising an eyebrow at his over-excitement. Daeden clutched the blades to his chest, grateful for the work from such an ¡®interesting¡¯ person.


    He took his leave out of the smiths as quickly as he could, in hopes to avoid any more of Daeden¡¯s fawning. He walked out to the centre of the chapel, sitting down on one of the rows and sighing. He closed his eyes, listening to the low crackling of the green braziers.


    He thought back to his dream about his curse. The cruel grin of his curse stuck in his mind, the Entity that he had killed was still tormenting him, even from beyond the grave. The thought of Gilgamesh, using his vast array of incredible magic to fight a powerful creature in a realm that doesn¡¯t exist would give Corvus a headache, if he could feel pain.


    There was a sound of scraping stone, on the other side of the chapel. Corvus raised his head, looking for which door is opening. It was a larger door in the far-right corner of the chapel, with a line of dark writing above it that spelt something along the lines of ¡®entrance¡¯.


    ¡°Hm.¡± Corvus stood up, tapping his belt in various places. He had five knives left in his belt and one bullet left in Raven. Less than he¡¯d hope for but what are the chances he¡¯d have to get in a fight?


    The door opened wider, and the two children that he¡¯d seen playing with each other stepped out, looking around and giggling to each other. They spotted Corvus and smiles beamed across their faces. They ran over to him and hugged his legs.


    ¡°Hi.¡± The tanned, blonde boy on his left leg giggled.


    ¡°Hi, Mister.¡± The pale, silver haired girl on his right said it in the exact same way.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it late for you two?¡± Corvus raised his eyebrow at the children.


    They both pouted but then caught each other¡¯s gaze and burst into laughter. They let go and ran back towards the door, opening it wider.


    ¡°Sorry, Mister. We had to help our friends get back in.¡± The girl giggled, holding the large door open.


    ¡°Friends?¡± Corvus tilted his head, trying to look into the door to see who walked through.


    Whoever Corvus thought would come through, he was wrong.


    A large, orange-haired man walked through, with white, padded combat robes and short claws on his hands. His body was that of a sprinter, and his eyes glinted with pale-blue charisma. He looked familiar to Corvus, as if he was seen in a large crowd somewhere.


    He was followed by several more people, wearing similar clothing but carrying different weaponry. There was about thirty of them in total, all of varying heights and builds, some wearing hoods and others not. The large, orange haired man spotted Corvus and held his hand up, causing the group to stop in their tracks immediately.


    ¡°Evening.¡± Corvus nodded politely.


    ¡°Uh¡­Evening.¡± The man hesitated, looking around the chapel slightly confused, but nodded honourably anyway.


    The stare-down continued, the children looking back and forth between the group and Corvus, slightly confused.


    ¡°Ugh. That took longer than I intended.¡± Gilgamesh appeared in the chapel, collapsing onto one of the stone benches. ¡°I swear, the next time I see a bear I¡¯m going to take a spear and¡­¡± He stopped, raising his head in slight confusion about the tension in the air. He looked over to the group and his eyebrows shot up.


    ¡°Oh. Priests. Good luck with that.¡±


    Then he dropped his head back onto the bench and started snoring loudly.

 Chapter 28: A Tense Stand-Off

    A thick, dangerous silence filled the chapel. The large group of priests were nearly motionless, several of the younger looking ones shuffled their feet in anticipation. The two children were still confused, looking between Corvus and the man that seemed to be in charge.


    Corvus blinked at them, waiting for them to say something. Eventually, he sighed, tired of the tense silence.


    ¡°You¡¯re awfully quiet for a group of priests. Thought you¡¯d be preaching.¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow, eyeing the leader curiously.


    ¡°Ah¡­Well¡­Excuse me, what?¡± The leader stammered through a few dumbfounded thoughts, dropping his hands from their defensive stance in utter confusion as to why he wasn¡¯t being attacked.


    ¡°All the priests I¡¯ve ever met have been pretty loud. You the outcasts?¡± Corvus shrugged.


    ¡°Sir, we should keep moving.¡± A tall woman stepped out from behind the large man, her close cropped, dark red hair contrasting her pale, freckled skin and deep blue eyes.


    ¡°Find what we came for.¡± Another woman appeared behind the first, shorter and stockier, with flowing brown hair and dark, scarred skin.


    Corvus tilted his head at the pair, slightly confused. The red haired one seemed to only be carrying a shield, while the shorter one only carried a lance. The young women were a strange pair to say the least. They began to take a step forward, but were halted by the leader¡¯s raised hand.


    ¡°Wait.¡± He turned back, his gaze measured and neutral. Corvus sighed inwardly, he was tired of speeches and negotiations at this point. ¡°My name is Sky Paladine, High Bishop of the Holy Holsa Church. And you are?¡±


    ¡°Corvus.¡± He crossed his arms, not flinching in the slightest.


    Sky waited, expecting a slightly longer name, but sighed when it became clear that he wasn¡¯t getting any more.


    ¡°Allow me to be blunt, Corvus. We came here to take your leader as our captive and end the violence between the church and your¡­community.¡± He spoke slowly, desperately trying to avoid provoking a reaction. The two children looked at each other, shrugging, not quite understanding what was happening.


    ¡°Fine by me.¡± Corvus shrugged, sitting on a nearby stone bench.


    A felia fluttered down, landing on Sky¡¯s cheek, bringing extra light to his baffled face.


    ¡°It¡­Hold on, how long have you been here?¡± He shook the feline bug off his face, trying to find something on Corvus¡¯ face.


    ¡°Including the time I spent asleep, about a week.¡± Corvus leaned down on his hand, scanning the rest of the robed group.


    ¡°A week? You¡¯re a trainee then?¡± Sky¡¯s face softened slightly. ¡°Are you alone here?¡±


    ¡°If you think I¡¯m alone, then why did you come here looking for someone?¡± Corvus rose an eyebrow.


    The two women were visibly irritated, moving forward, their mismatched weapons raised. Sky shot them a commanding stare, quelling their rage somewhat, before turning back to Corvus, who was examining a glittering felia on his finger.


    ¡°Are you the only trainee here?¡± Sky¡¯s calming tone hadn¡¯t wavered even slightly.


    ¡°No.¡± Corvus let the creature flutter back into the top of the chapel, looking back at Sky, mildly bored. He glanced over at Gilgamesh, who was in the exact same position as himself, except he seemed to be dreaming about riding horses, judging by how he was rocking in his sleep.


    ¡°Are they your friends?¡± Sky prodded further, careful not to strike any nerves.


    Corvus had to think that one over a few times. He hadn¡¯t known any of them for very long, a matter of days at most, hell, he didn¡¯t even know most of their full names. They were friendly enough to him, though Jack had a bad habit of misdirected anger and sling-stabbing, and Johanna seemed to genuinely want to connect to him properly. He decided to go with the subtle echoes in his void of a heart.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Corvus stood back up, eyeing Sky, trying to find out where he was going with this.


    ¡°Then would you like to come with us? Find new lives in respected places and never have to watch your backs again?¡± Sky offered a hand of kinship, much to the horror of nearly everyone with him, judging by their terrified, angered, or even disgusted expressions.


    Corvus shrugged.


    ¡°I can¡¯t speak for them, so I won¡¯t answer that.¡±


    ¡°Of course. But what of you?¡±


    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ve got my own business here, for now at least.¡± Corvus glanced down to Gilgamesh.


    Sky nodded, retracting his hand.


    ¡°I see. If ever that should change, I will vouch for you, Corvus. In exchange, I need a favour.¡± Sky smiled confidently, apparently satisfied with those answers.


    ¡°You want to find Gregory?¡± Corvus raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yes, if possible.¡± The group behind Sky were becoming slightly restless, shuffling their feet and nervously eyeing the two curious children.


    ¡°Can¡¯t help you I¡¯m afraid.¡± Corvus shrugged.


    ¡°I told you we can¡¯t trust them, sir.¡± The red-headed woman said, raising her shield angrily, followed swiftly by half the group.


    ¡°Actually, I don¡¯t know where he is.¡± Corvus shot a blunt statement right at her, catching her slightly off guard. ¡°I¡¯ve already broken a few of his fingers, why would I protect the rest of them?¡± He raised a challenging eyebrow to her.


    She had nothing to say, her face flaring with anger and embarrassment. The woman next to her gripped her spear tighter, staring daggers at Corvus, to no avail.


    A sound quietly echoed through the chapel, too quiet for anyone normal to hear. Corvus turned his gaze to the long corridor that lead to the quarters. He recognised the sounds, the sounds of chipper laughter and the comfortable conversation of friendship. Johanna had got back quicker than he expected.


    Sky opened his mouth to say something to Corvus, but stopped himself when he heard them too, instantly putting his guard back up. The group followed suit, grasping their weapons in a tight, nervous formation.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get so jumpy, it¡¯s my friends.¡± Corvus sighed at the group.


    ¡°Why should we believe you?¡± The spear-wielding woman spat.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Sky raised his hand again, dropping his guard and taking a step forward.


    The two children heard the voices too, smiling to each other and running to either side of the corridor to surprise them. The tension in the room ramped up again, sending countless beads of sweat tumbling off the priest¡¯s foreheads.


    ¡°That¡¯s disgusting.¡± Gilgamesh recoiled from the nervous priests, storming over to another bench and angrily relaxing once more.


    Aria and Henrith were the first two to appear from the corridor, chattering happily amongst themselves. The two children yelled ¡®BOO¡¯ at them same time, making them both jump out of their skins, then split their sides laughing at the prank.


    ¡°My God, Celeste, you¡¯re evil.¡± Henrith playfully ruffled the girl¡¯s hair.


    ¡°I assume this was your doing, oh great Sir Finn.¡± Aria bowed to the boy, giving him an encouraging smile the whole time.


    The two children giggled to each other and ran to a stone chair, laughingly shoving at each other to sit on it. Henrith and Aria scanned the dark room, their gazes meeting Corvus. Henrith beamed a smile at him, striding towards him and clapping him on the shoulder. Aria was slightly more hesitant, walking up to Corvus and offering a slightly awkward smile.


    Damian, May and Lanya walked in shortly after, talking loudly and cheerfully. Damian and May were poking fun at each other. May pretended to walk in high heels, while Damian wildly swung his arms around himself, acting like a drunken blacksmith. They both lost themselves in laughter, while Lanya chuckled, quietly reading between them.


    They caught sight of Corvus, stopping their conversation immediately, blankly staring at him with a loss for words. Corvus shrugged to them, indicating as best he could that there was no bad blood on his end. Damian seemed to breathe all the stress out of his body, returning an honest smile to him.


    Jack appeared behind them, uncharacteristically quiet and reserved. He kept his eyes and mind occupied by constantly staring at the patch of featureless rock in front of him, while his hands were stuffed into his pockets. His face was a mask of shame and self-chastisement.


    He didn¡¯t see Damian in front of him, walking into his back and jumping back in surprise. He blinked several times before registering that he was looking directly at Corvus, who had his usual empty stare pointed right back.


    ¡°Corvus¡­I¡­uh¡­Hi.¡± Jack stammered, trying his best to not overly embarrass himself any further. His voice was deep with apology and quiet disappointment in himself.


    ¡°Evening.¡± Corvus nodded slightly.


    ¡°I, uh¡­I¡¯m sorry for, you know, before.¡± Jack looked at the group, speaking quietly.


    ¡°No worries.¡± Corvus shrugged at the heartfelt apology, indicating that it was no big deal. Jack¡¯s face lifted, and a tiny tear escaped the side of his eye. Lanya gingerly reached out her hand and patted his shoulder encouragingly. He dried his eyes and nodded quietly, unable to keep the smile from his face.


    Johanna walked in just behind them, her ruby eyes sparkling in the dark green chapel. She glanced at Corvus, giving him a heartfelt smile. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, turning her gaze to the large group of priests.


    ¡°People here.¡± The words were rushed, surprised and slightly scared as they escaped Johanna¡¯s mouth.


    The rest of Corvus¡¯ friends looked at her in confusion, then to the priests, and took up a similar level of guardedness. The priests were extremely on edge, barely containing themselves from charging and running the new targets through.


    ¡°Told you.¡± Corvus shrugged at Sky, who was doing his best to contain the escalating tension of the situation.


    Sky nodded, returning his face to his neutral, negotiating tone.


    ¡°Hello there. My name is¡ª¡± He began speaking, but stopped immediately when the sound of scraping stone creeped through the chapel.


    The door to the blacksmiths swiftly began to open, drawing all the eyes in the room.


    Daeden stepped out, holding Corvus¡¯ cutlasses in his arms and humming a small tune to himself. He laid the blades down on a stone bench, wiping the sooty sweat from his forehead and smiling at his good work. He glanced up and saw the group of priests, his joyful expression falling.


    ¡°What the¡ª¡± His surprised voice was cut short by a dagger in his throat. Blood spewed from the wound, his terrified hands grasping at the short dagger. He tripped over the other benches, tumbling over and coughing up more dark liquid and quivering on the ground.


    Sky¡¯s face turned from shock to betrayed anger. He turned around, his fiery gaze boring into the group, trying to find the culprit. The red-haired woman gave him a nod, a self-assured smile on her face, and a dagger missing from her belt. Sky had to viably restrain himself from attacking his own subordinate out of rage.


    The two children took several moments to comprehend what just happened, but when they did, they screamed, cowering into the stunned arms May and Lanya. Henrith, Aria and Damian braced themselves, ready to defend the group. Jack was frozen in place, barely able to move or react to what just happened. Johanna stood out beside Corvus, raising her fists in defiance.


    The priests tightened their formation, the women beside sky raised their weapons together, a righteous grin spreading across their faces. Sky raised both of his hands, trying to stop this before it became an all-out war, but to little effect.


    Corvus glanced between the two groups, weighing the odds.


    There were eight unarmed, unarmoured people in his group going against the priest¡¯s fully prepared thirty. They only had their summons, Corvus¡¯ various knives and his cutlasses, the dagger that killed Daeden, and Raven, who would need reloading after the next shot. The two children were scared and afraid, and would be seriously hurt or killed if they weren¡¯t shielded.


    The priests were all older, better armed, better trained and more than likely had powerful magic as well. The only advantage that Corvus and his group had was the traps and defences that peppered the corridors of Desperius, the only problem being that Corvus had no idea where they were set or how badly they would endanger the children and his arm cast. And from the terrified undertones in each of his friend¡¯s eyes, they didn¡¯t know either.


    Corvus turned back to the priests and sighed. They probably weren¡¯t all going to make it out of this alive.


    The scraping of a stone door echoed loudly through the chapel, far quicker and more forcefully than before. The red-headed woman reacted instantly, drawing another small blade and flinging it with pinpoint accuracy at the source of the sound.


    The blade stopped in the waiting, sooty hand of powerful, and very angry blacksmith.


    Cleo¡¯s emerald eyes were steeped in rage after seeing the body of her apprentice and her close friend. She flicked the knife, catching it in her left hand and throwing it with a powerful, black skull surrounding it.


    The skull whizzed at incredible speed, impacting the red-haired woman¡¯s shield, and it would have knocked her to the ground if she wasn¡¯t surrounded by people. The dark aura dispersed, and the knife was solidly embedded in the steel of the shield, just above the woman¡¯s arm, much to her shock and terror.


    Cleo flexed her right arm, conjuring the shadows around her and sending them flying down the corridor that lead to the quarters. She scanned the priests, accurately assessing each of their strengths with a single glance. Her gaze settled on Sky, and her eyes widened slightly in recognition.


    ¡°It¡¯s you.¡± She noted, tilting her head slightly.


    Sky squinted slightly, before also noticing who he was facing.


    ¡°And you.¡± Sky said, slightly taken aback.


    Cleo took several steps forward, so she was slightly in front of Corvus, guarding the whole group. She glanced at Corvus, who made a small nod, as instructed, earning him a humourless chuckle from her.


    Her gaze bore holes into the hearts of all the priests, but seemed to soften slightly when she looked at Sky. She raised her right hand towards the corridor, the tattoos on her exposed skin writhing faster and more violently. Sky raised his fists in preparation, his claws glinting in the green light of the felias.


    In an instant, shadows enveloped Cleo, writhing around her and depositing various items onto her person. Shortly afterwards, the darkness vanished, and what was left behind even made Corvus¡¯ empty heart thump slightly faster than usual.


    Her spear, deftly grasped in her fingers, twirled to her side. Her blacksmithing apron was discarded on the floor, instead replaced by black, glinting armour that flowed over her as if it was made only for her, which it more than likely was. She had a small armoury¡¯s worth of weapons on her belt, ranging from small throwing knives to short-swords strapped to her legs.


    Her two concealed short-spears were hidden behind her shoulder blades, ready to spring out and begin killing at any moment.


    The scariest thing of all, however, was her face. She had soft, black ink running across her cheeks, breaking up her outline and hiding her further in the shadows. Her green eyes were wells of pure, cold fury, standing out from the rest of her, ensuring that the last thing her foes would see, is their own nightmare.


    What stood before the small group of nervous priests was not a single foe, but a force of nature. Not a simple combatant, but the most terrifying fighter in all of Desperius. What they faced was not a fight, but an execution at the hands and the bite of The Dark Cobra.

 Chapter 29: The First Clash

    ¡°I can¡¯t do this!¡±  A young-faced priest shouted from the back of the group, shoving past his comrades and scrambling towards the door they had infiltrated through.


    Cleo sank into the darkness, appearing out of the shadows in front of the terrified man and connecting her armoured fist with his stomach, then teleported back in front of Corvus, all in the blink of an eye.


    The terrified man sank to his knees, spewing up his last meal and several mouthfuls of blood onto the cold stone floor.  The priests nearly broke ranks in shock, several of them were visibly panicking, hyperventilating and quivering in fear.  The woman who had killed Daeden backed off slightly, her gaze darting around fearfully.  The only reason the priests were still there at all was Sky.


    ¡°Stop it, damn it, all of you!¡±  Sky held up his hands, a desperate look on his face.  He turned to Cleo, lowering his gaze in appeasement.  ¡°Listen to me, please.  I don¡¯t want this to turn in to a fight, and I don¡¯t want to endanger anyone who is foreign to our conflict.¡±  He gestured at Corvus and his friends, who were still reeling from the sudden invasion, as well as the two crying children.


    Cleo raised her spear, pointing it at Sky.


    ¡°You killed my friend.  You turned this into a fight, not me.¡±  Her voice was low and vicious.


    Sky glared at the red-haired woman, tensing his own fist at her look of worry.


    ¡°I know.  I take full responsibility and will accept full punishment for his death.  I only ask that it comes at a later time.  Once we have who we came for, I will stay behind and receive any pain you wish to give.¡±


    ¡°Why should I let you go?  You¡¯re in my home uninvited, you threatened my students and killed my friend.  If any of you live to see tomorrow, it would be my failure.¡±  Her voice was final and deadly.


    ¡°All of that is true, but I swore to end this conflict.  We will take your leader tonight and end his reign of power and control.  I would prefer that it is without further bloodshed.¡±  Sky raised his head, changing his posture from one of submission to resolve.


    ¡°So I should stand aside for you?¡±  Cleo raised an angry eyebrow.


    ¡°I cannot ask that of you.  However, if a fight were to break out¡­¡±  Sky looked at Corvus¡¯ group and the two terrified children, then shot a disappointed look at his priests.  ¡°I fear that some of my companions feel less strongly about sparing others than I do.¡±


    Cleo wavered.  She glanced over at Corvus and his friends, who were still watching from the side, afraid to move a muscle in case it escalates things.  She turned back to Sky; the tip of her spear lowered slightly.


    ¡°You¡¯ll spare them and leave without hurting anyone else?¡±  The anger in her voice was almost completely gone, as if it were no more than skin deep before.


    Sky nodded, lowering his claws.


    Cleo completely turned her head to Corvus, who simply shrugged.


    ¡°Alright.¡±  Cleo began to lower her spear, earning a sigh of relief from the priests.


    The low scratch of the stone doors sent silence across everyone once more.  Sky tensed up, Cleo¡¯s face fell in despair, then quickly to stone-faced duty.  Corvus raised his eyebrow at her change in expression.


    The stone door at the far end of the room opened slowly, the one that lead to the library, if Corvus recalled correctly.  Odere stepped out, flicking through a notebook that contained sketches and runes that seemed to swim across the page.


    He didn¡¯t look up, focussing intently on his research, walking through the gaps in the stone benches from memory.  The room was tensely silent as the old man quietly walked through the chapel, oblivious to the world, heading for a door just opposite him.  He put his hand on the cold stone and pushed, making his way to the other side, closing it behind him.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Several tense moments of silence passed between Cleo and Sky, taken up purely by a confused stare from him that went unanswered.


    That same door opened again, only this time Odere came out with an angry expression on his face and a sleeping person slung over his shoulder.  Odere was muttering something about not sleeping with the swords, while the sleeping man dreamily sung about seashells.  Judging by the tumbling locks of hair that fell across his shoulders and the slightly shredded pyjamas, Corvus guessed it was probably Alex.


    Odere lifted his fellow instructor as high as he could, trying to avoid hitting his head off the stones.  He opened a far stone with his foot, grumbling about how Alex apparently had injuries from his habit of sleeping in the armoury.  Odere placed his hand on the stone door, but didn¡¯t open it.  He stood motionless for several seconds, as if listening to the rocks around him.


    He turned his head around, inspecting the chapel.  When his eyes fell on Cleo and the priests, he dropped Alex to the ground in a painful thud, immediately focussing his vision and readying his small form for combat.


    Alex, meanwhile, turned over on the cold floor, groaning complaints at his colleague.  He stood up lazily, his thin cotton pyjamas hung loosely around his muscles as he shook the impact out of his head.  He blinked several times, assessing the abnormally large number of people in the chapel at this time of night.  After he realised what was going on, he sharpened, running up beside Cleo and Odere, his bare feet quiet on the ground.


    Sky flashed his pale eyes at the two new combatants with wariness.  He raised his claws, readying himself for a fight, as did the rest of the priests, their faces newly terrified.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t call for help.  Why?¡±  Odere flashed an accusatory glance at Cleo, who didn¡¯t even flinch at the comment.


    ¡°No need.  A deal has already been made.¡±  She lowered her spear, motioning for the others to step back.


    A surprised look flew across Alex¡¯s face.


    ¡°A duel?  Now?¡±  He dropped his fists in sheer confusion.


    ¡°Yes.  We have already discussed terms.  They cannot be broken anymore.¡±  Cleo stared into Sky, silently begging for him to understand what she meant.  He blinked in agreement, dropping his hands and taking several strides forward, simultaneously gesturing for his priests to stand down.


    ¡°If victory is mine, they all leave, and do not return here for the remainder of their lives.¡±  Cleo continued, stepping forward, her black armour glinting in the low green light.


    ¡°And if it is mine, we will take a single prisoner of our choosing, harming no one else.¡±  Sky spoke politely and honestly, not wanting to invoke any more hostility.


    Alex and Odere exchanged glances, weighing up their options.  The two men sighed, stepping in front of Corvus¡¯ group protectively.


    ¡°If terms have been arranged, there is nothing we can do.  We will see to it that no harm comes to these young ones.¡±  Odere nodded solemnly.


    ¡°Come on now, lets get you out of here.¡±  Alex extended a hand to the young children, assuring them of their safety.  They took it, tears flooding out of their terrified eyes.


    Alex nodded to May and Lanya, who understood.  The three of them turned and began ushering the children back to somewhere safer.


    ¡°That goes for you lot too.¡±  Odere motioned for the rest of them to go down the corridor as well.  Damian and Jack nodded quickly, stepping towards the dark tunnel, while Henrith and Aria eyed the upcoming fight, before reluctantly following their companions.


    Corvus and Johanna didn¡¯t follow them, instead, making their way further into the chapel, and sitting on a bench that overlooked the fight.


    ¡°Get back here you two.¡±  Odere spoke quietly and intensely, eager to stop any further tension.


    ¡°Not happening.¡±  Corvus didn¡¯t even look at the short man.  He picked up his sharpened blades from the bench in front of Daeden¡¯s cold body, slipping them back into his belt, before returning to his seat.


    Odere looked as if he wanted to strangle Corvus, but gave up eventually.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back shortly, and you will follow me.¡±  Odere jabbed a finger at them, before turning and ushering the rest of his classmates down the dark hall.


    Cleo sighed gratefully, then turned her gaze back to Sky, who smiled apologetically.


    ¡°In other circumstances, I would¡¯ve liked to talk with you further.¡±  He bowed his head slightly.


    Cleo didn¡¯t reply.  She took two steps forward, so that she and Sky were almost touching noses.  She leaned up to him, whispering something in his ear.


    His face rose in surprise, then horror, then sympathy.  When her message was over and she backed away, he was speechless.


    Cleo nodded, raising her spear above her head and striking at his heart.  Sky¡¯s distracted ended quickly, as he struck at the sharp steel with his claws, deflecting the strike away from him.


    Cleo dashed backwards putting some space between herself and Sky, who cracked his back and began flexing his muscles in preparation for their duel.


    ¡°They¡¯re going to kill each other.¡±  Johanna noted, worriedly.


    ¡°Probably.¡±  Corvus shrugged, propping his legs up on a nearby block of stone in a way that would make Gilgamesh proud.  ¡°Let¡¯s watch.¡±